Baby Love (16 page)

Head resting against the back of the chair, Rafe sat with his legs bent. His scuffed boots bracketed the dresser drawer that served as Jaimie's bed. Taking care of a baby was no small responsibility, and he snored so loud, he wanted to be sure he woke up if Jaimie cried.

Just as Rafe started to snooze, a sharp rap on the door jerked him awake. His first thought was that Boyle had reneged on their deal and sent the police. Pushing to his feet, he finger-combed his hair and stepped over to the door.

"Who is it?" he growled, fully prepared to make a fast exit out the bathroom window if a cop answered.

"It's Ryan, " a rough-edged voice replied.

Rafe curled his hand over the knob and flipped the lock with his thumb. He hesitated a moment.
Ryan.
His grip tightened on the brass.

For an instant when he saw the man on the porch, Rafe felt as if he were staring at his reflection. His brother wore a blue chambray shirt and well-fitting, faded jeans, the only difference between their garments the quality of the cloth.

Neither of them spoke. Rafe wasn't sure who moved first. The next thing he knew, they stood on the threshold, locked in a rib-cracking hug. As Ryan finally drew away, Rafe felt his brother's body shaking. He flipped the wall switch to turn on the bedside lamp.

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154 CATHERINE ANDERSON

Stepping farther into the room, Ryan cuffed Rafe lightly on the arm. His voice gruff and thick, he said,

"You look like hell. If this is what booze does to a man, it doesn't come highly recommended. "

Now that he was seeing his brother in better light, Rafe could detect vast differences between them, the most notable that Ryan outweighed him by a good twenty pounds, every ounce honed by grueling physical labor into rock-hard muscle. Broad shoulders, thighs roped with muscle, and a depth to his chest that Rafe had long since lost. It came as a bit of a shock to realize that his baby brother had matured into a man he would hesitate to take on in a fight.

"Damn, son. " He pushed the door closed to prevent the cold night air from chilling the baby. "Last time I saw you, I still had to wipe your nose. "

Ryan gave a derisive snort. "You never wiped my nose. "

It was true; Rafe hadn't. They were only two years apart. Ryan was twenty-eight now, and it showed on his face. At the corners of his steel-blue eyes, he was beginning to get crow's-feet, and the dimple in his cheek so like Rafe's own had deepened into a long, sun-weathered crease. "You're right. Most of the time, I just wanted to thump you for being such a smart-ass. "

Ryan sent his hat sailing onto the bed and then planted his hands on his hips. "You couldn't find anything better than this? It smells of mildew. " He strode to the bathroom, gave the broken door a nudge, and shook his head at the dated fixtures. Turning back, he said, "At least that rattletrap heater works. "

His gaze flicked to the drawer on the floor. He froze and stared at the sleeping infant. When he looked at Rafe again, his mouth hardened. "Where's the broad? Still in the hospital?"

Hearing his brother call Maggie a "broad" sent Rafe's temper rising. He tamped it down. Ryan hadn't seen Maggie for himself. Once he did, Rafe believed his

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brother's attitude toward her would undergo a fast change. He hoped so, anyway. If not, there would be some rough road to grade when Ryan found out Rafe planned to marry her. "Yeah, she's a pretty sick girl right now. A nasty kidney infection that went septic, "

Ryan rubbed the corner of his eye. Then he sniffed and stepped soundlessly over to gaze at the baby.

"You're right. He's a cute little fellow. " He angled Rafe a look. "Is it the woman you're crazy about, or her kid?"

Rafe chuckled and pushed a hand through his hair. "I reckon I'd have to say it's a toss-up. " He gestured at the bed. "Take a load off. "

Ryan hadn't completed his snooping tour. After peeking in the empty closet, he said, "You weren't kidding about bumming the rails. No luggage. "

"My Gucci was stolen. "

"Who's the smart-ass?"

Rafe folded his length onto the broken-down cushion of the chair, propping his arms on his bent knees, his hands dangling. He watched as Ryan sat on the bed, assuming much the same posture. Until now, he'd never realized how very alike he and his brother were. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"I sweet-talked a little gall at the hospital. "

"I didn't expect you until morning. "

"I got the Cessna ready faster than I hoped. " He shrugged and rubbed his palms together. "Figured I might as well come, keep you out of trouble. "

Rafe grinned. "If you're hoping to protect me from a conniving woman, you'll laugh at yourself when you meet Maggie. "

Ryan frowned. "I just don't want you making any stupid mistakes, that's all. You've been through a bad time, Rafe. The folks and I are worried some little tramp's gotten her hooks into you. "

"Maggie isn't a tramp. "

"It's not like you to tie up with some gall you hardly

156 CATHERINE ANDERSON

know, especially not the kind you'd meet on a boxcar. What type of people bum the rails?"

"You're looking at one. "

Ryan's mouth tightened. "Not every bum has a reason like you did. "

"You're an expert?" Rafe settled his gaze on Jaimie. "Don't be so quick to judge people, Ryan. I could still be out there, you know. And if not for bumping into Maggie, I might never have sobered up enough to care. "

Ryan sighed. "You should have called home. I would have come. "

"You were part of the memories. Can you understand

that?"

"I'm trying. "

Rafe bent his head again. "Yeah, well, that's all I can ask, I guess. I know you love me. But love isn't always enough. You've never lost anyone except our grandparents. I know you tried to understand how I felt, that you
wanted
to help me. But I had lost my whole life, my reason for breathing. There was nothing left in me. Nothing. That was impossible for you to relate to. It still is. "

"And this Maggie person can?" He threw up his hands. "Right. "

Rafe pushed to his feet and took a slow turn at the foot of the bed. "It wasn't that Maggie talked sense into me. She was just—there, a battered young woman, down on her luck. I was passed out when she got on the boxcar. When I came around, there she was. " He shrugged, the words to explain eluding him.

"She needed
me,
not the other way around. Do you understand what I'm saying?
She
needed me. "

Ryan propped his elbow on his knee and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Watching him, Rafe felt an ache of tension in the nape of his neck. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Ryan, or Mom and Dad, either. I can see that I have. "

"You'll never know. "
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"I was so wrapped up in my own pain, I couldn't see beyond it. That was selfish and inexcusable. And I'm very sorry. I had only one feeling left, pain. For a while, I was hurting too much to love any of you back. I know that sounds bad, but it's the truth. My feelings for you were there in me somewhere, but I couldn't tap into them or care about anything, and I just had to get out. "

Ryan pushed to his feet. For an instant, they stared at each other. Then Ryan grabbed him in another bear hug. They held each other like that, their bodies tensed and quivering, emotions neither of them could express churning inside of them.

When they finally drew apart, Rafe knew everything would be all right.

The following morning, Maggie had just filled her mouth with oatmeal when Rafe Kendrick appeared in her hospital room—in duplicate. For an awful moment, she thought perhaps the nurse had misread the thermometer and she still had a high fever. Two tall cowboys in blue chambray shirts and jeans, with black Stetsons cocked at a jaunty angle on their heads?

But then she noticed that only one cowboy was carrying her baby, a half-filled bottle clutched in his hand.

The other man looked slightly younger and less worn, his Stetson newer, his Western riding boots not as rundown.

"Maggie, honey, this is my brother, Ryan, " the slightly older version said.

The younger man with the empty arms swept off his hat to reveal jet-black, slightly wavy hair exactly like Rafe's. Tall with a long-legged, well-muscled build, he stood with one lean hip cocked, his right leg slightly bent. The strong features of his face were sharpened by his stony expression, his gray-blue eyes intense and almost startling in contrast to his sun-bronzed skin.

"Ma'am, " he said coolly, inclining his head. "Good to meet you. "

158 CATHERINE ANDERSON

"Mmmm, " was the only response Maggie could utter.

She struggled to swallow and pushed at her hair, feeling horribly self-conscious. Though nearly a dead ringer for Rafe, Ryan Kendrick could have stepped straight off the set of the television series
Dallas,
one of her mom's favorite reruns. Despite the faded cowboy garb, he carried himself with the self-assurance of a wealthy rancher accustomed to barking orders. The gold watch on his wrist screamed,
Money.
Maggie doubted he was used to seeing women in hospital gowns, with no makeup and matted, tangled hair.

"I'm pleased to meet you as well, " she finally managed to say around the stubborn bits of mush that felt glued to the walls of her throat.

Trying to gather her composure, Maggie glanced at Rafe. He had a predatory look that his brother lacked, as if suffering and deprivation had trimmed away all the excess, leaving only a core of hard-edged masculinity. Ryan Kendrick was bulkier, but Rafe was slightly taller and had the more dangerous air. His steely gaze was blade-sharp, the bunched tendons along his lean jaw more defined. There was also an alertness and tension radiating from him, as if he'd grown used to watching his back and fighting to survive.

Maggie's spoon rattled as it slipped into the bowl. She could feel Ryan's gaze taking measure of her. He was prepared to dislike everything he saw.

Rafe stepped around to the far side of her bed and held Jaimie up in the bend of his arm so she might admire the new snowsuit, a bit of blue pile lined with white. Despite her nervousness, she laughed.

Rafe drew the baby beyond her reach. "Breakfast first. You're thin as a fence rail. "

Her oatmeal had lost appeal. "Please? Let me hold him for a minute. "

Rafe narrowed an eye at her but relented, pushing the caster table aside to place the infant in her arms.

Maggie

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immediately unzipped the snowsuit, anxious to feel her baby's sweet little body. This morning he felt delightfully warm when she curled her hands over him, a sign her temperature had dropped.

Dressed in another new sleeper, this one white with blue trim, Jaimie blinked and churned his feet, clearly not pleased to be disturbed from his nap. Then, feeling the softness of his mother's breast, he turned and nuzzled the front of her gown. Maggie gave a startled jerk when the baby found his mark.

Her cheeks went fiery hot. Even through the wash-worn hospital linen, Jaimie latched onto her like a little leech and sucked air when she broke the contact. Angry at having his attempt to breakfast interrupted, her son went crimson and screwed up his small face to scream. Rafe leaned over and plugged the infant's mouth with the nipple of the half-full baby bottle. He let loose with a deep, rumbling laugh at the way Jaimie's expression instantly changed from hungry outrage to complacent satisfaction.

"I think he's ready for brunch. "

Maggie couldn't bring herself to look up. It was embarrassing to have two men watching while her baby went after her like that.

Seeing the crimson that flagged Maggie's cheeks, Rafe glanced over to gauge Ryan's reaction. Just as Rafe had predicted, his brother was staring down at her with a bemused expression, the stern set of his jaw and mouth softening. He glanced up and caught Rafe studying him. A hint of a grin tugged at his mouth, and Rafe knew Maggie had made another conquest. She radiated such sweetness, only a blind man could fail to see that it was genuine.

"He sure is a fine-looking boy, " Ryan said smoothly, for all the world as if he hadn't entered the room loaded for bear. "I'll bet you're so proud of that baby you're about to bust. "

Rafe suppressed a chuckle. Maggie's inherent wari-

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ness of men had made her one of the most difficult individuals to befriend that he had ever met, but when it came to Jaimie, the stiffness always went out of her. She cast his brother a shy smile, clearly disarmed.

Damn Ryan's hide. He always had been slick with the ladies, and he hadn't lost the knack.

"Yes, " she said softly. "I
am
proud of him. He's going to be handsome. I'm thankful he takes after my father and won't look like me. Perish the thought. "

Ryan's forehead pleated in a frown, his raven-black brows drawing together over twinkling eyes that were focused with blatant male appreciation on Maggie's delicately sculpted features. Rafe knew exactly what his brother was thinking—that a cameo could be no more perfect. Maggie's cloud of tousled sable curls set off an ivory complexion touched with a strawberry-and-cream blush at the cheeks. And those huge, incredibly liquid brown eyes were the kind a man could drown in, their size accentuated by a dusky sweep of long, abundant lashes that clustered into silky spikes.

"Well, now, I don't know about that, " Ryan replied. "Of course, if he looks too much like you when he matures out, he may be too pretty for a boy. "

Maggie's cheeks bloomed again, and she glanced toward the ceiling, wrinkling her small nose to convey she'd never heard such blarney. Rafe and Ryan exchanged a long look, both of them grinning.

Ryan folded his considerable length to sit down on the visitor's chair by the bed. Propping one boot on his denim-clad thigh, he hooked his Stetson on his bent knee. A wave of homesickness washed over Rafe, for he could recall seeing his brother strike just that pose at least a thousand times in the kitchen of the main ranch house at home. Rafe could almost smell the coffee brewing.