Linda Goodnight - Married In A Month

“Cookie, get in here,” he bellowed. At the sound of shouting, the baby jerked, his little arms flew straight up and he wailed all the louder.

Cookie, chief cook and general housekeeper for the Garret Ranch, scuttled in from the kitchen. Twigs of hair stuck out on his head like blackjack sprouts. A battleship tattoo, a result of one wild weekend in Hong Kong, sailed his arm from shoulder to wrist. A white chef’s apron covered the forty extra pounds of paunch around his middle. He was a scary sight, but the bachelor brothers of Garret Ranch didn’t care. He made a mean chicken-fried steak, and that was really all that mattered.

“What in blue blazes is all the racket in here, boss?” His voice, a startling replica of an air horn, made the baby cry even more.

“It’s a baby.”

“A what?” Cookie backed away.

The sight brought a momentary, though not too happy, smile to Colt’s face. “I said a baby, Cookie, not a rattlesnake.”

“Same blame thing. Only, I know what to do with a rattlesnake.” He shuffled over to the couch and peered down at the screaming infant. “Whose is it?”

“For the time being, he’s mine.”

Cookie plopped down on the couch beside the crying infant and began to laugh. The sound rumbled like a passing train. “One of them lady friends of yours finally got you, didn’t she? You gave her a baby, and she gave him back to you. I knew it. I knew it. I told you that wild living would come home to roost some day, and it sure enough did. Here it is in the flesh.”

Cole was dumbstruck. “You think this is my baby?”

“Ain’t it?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

Of course he was sure. He hadn’t done any “wild living” in years. Well, months, maybe. And the few times he’d been with someone he’d been very, very careful. He and his brother Jett had long ago made a pact to remain footloose and fancy-free. They were cowboys who loved their freedom and their wide-open spaces. No women or kids could tie them down. No sirree, not the Garret brothers.

The baby’s cries had turned to shrieks. The tiny face was a wrinkled, purple mess.

“Do something, Cookie.”

“Me?” The older man shook his head, setting the blackjack sprouts aquiver. “It’s your baby.”

“What do you suppose he wants?” Side by side, the men stared down at the infant.

Cookie, who thought food was the answer to every problem, hit upon the perfect solution. “Maybe it’s hungry. You suppose there’s a bottle or something in one of them bags?”

Colt hadn’t even noticed the three bags leaning against the wall just inside the front door. He hurried to them, searching for something—anything—to make this little fella hush up. An array of plastic diapers, blankets and tiny clothes were stuffed into the bags. One by one he threw them out, scattering baby items all over the thick, brown carpet.

“Aha!” he cried. Delirious with relief, he withdrew a filled baby bottle and carried it back to the couch. The baby lay in his padded carrier thrashing his arms and squirming like the rattlesnake Cookie had likened him to. Colt pushed the bottle into the infant’s open mouth. Instantly the baby quieted.

“Just like feeding a motherless calf,” Cookie commented as the child latched on to the nipple and sucked greedily.

“This is a lot more serious than a calf, Cookie. Babies need attention all the time, not just morning and evening. We’ve got to find this baby’s mama and send him home.”

“Cute little feller, ain’t he?” Cookie stroked one fat finger along the baby’s cheek. The child turned his head toward the finger, a pair of brown eyes searching Cookie’s face. “How could any mama worth her salt dump him on a stranger’s doorstep like this?”

“According to the letter, the mother doesn’t consider me a stranger. That’s the odd part of all this. I don’t remember ever meeting any Natosha Parker, but this paper says I’m the only person she trusts to take good care of little Evan.” He looked up and grinned. “I guess his name is Evan.”

“Don’t make no sense, boss. If you don’t know her, how can she trust you?”

“I don’t know.” Thoughtfully Colt rubbed at his whiskers. “Maybe I should call the sheriff and turn the baby over to him.”

“And have him wind up in one of them homes somewhere? We can’t do that to this little feller.”

Never one to shun responsibility, Colt knew Cookie was right. The papers looked legal and in order, granting him complete and total custody of Evan Lane Parker, two-month-old son of Natosha Parker. He’d handled enough of his own stock contracts to know airtight legal work when he saw it.

“That’s the answer, Cookie.” He slapped the papers against his knee. Once more the baby jerked his hands into the air. “These are legal papers. Some lawyer drew them up for this Natosha Parker woman. I’ll call Jace Bristow and have him take a look. He can trace the mother through these papers.”

Jace Bristow had been Colt’s attorney since the two graduated from Texas A & M. He was a great attorney and an even better friend. If anyone could trace this baby’s mother, Jace could do it. Colt breathed a tentative sigh of relief.

Cookie, however, looked doubtful. “What do we do with him in the meantime?”

Colt hunkered down beside the couch, his eyes on the baby. The little critter didn’t look half so scary with his mouth closed. Fact of the business, he was downright cute sucking on that bottle with such heartrending desperation. He wasn’t bald like most babies Colt had seen. He had a smooth cap of dark hair above a round face, a tiny bit of a nose and a pair of big brown eyes that followed every move Colt made. Someone had lovingly dressed him in blue overalls, a soft red shirt and a floppy cotton sailor hat that had fallen off during his fit of crying.

Who are you, little man? And where did you come from? Colt wondered, as he stroked a finger over the velvety soft hand. Evan responded by wrapping his own tiny fingers around the much larger one. At the unexpected rush of emotion, Colt gently withdrew his hand and straightened. He was a responsible man, a decent man, but he was not daddy material. Never would be. He sure as blazes couldn’t go getting attached to somebody else’s baby. And he had a real bad feeling that would be mighty easy to do.

“I’ve got a ranch to run. You’ll have to look out for him.”

“I didn’t hire on to take care of no babies,” Cookie protested. “I feel sorry for the little feller, but I’ll quit if you try to turn me into a nursemaid.”

“Come on, Cookie, you spent twenty years in the navy. Surely, you can handle a baby for a few days.”

“Weren’t no babies in the navy. I got my hands full cooking and cleaning for you and that bunch of ranch hands. I ain’t doin’ it. You’ll have to hire a baby-sitter.”

Suddenly an unpleasant odor emanated from the couch. Colt wrinkled his nose and looked from Cookie to the straining, red-faced infant. Cookie roared like a mad bull and beat a fast retreat to the kitchen. Totally defeated, Colt stared after his cook and then down at the gurgling baby. That was the moment he knew that his life would never be the same.

“So,” he said wearily to the prospective nanny, motioning to the baby in her arms. “That’s all I know about Evan’s mother.”

He didn’t bother to tell her the rest. That live-in help was next to impossible to find because of the ranch’s isolated location in the middle of miles and miles of cattle range. Nor did he mention his less-than-stellar bachelor reputation. No use telling Miss Kati Winslow all that, or she’d up and run out the door and leave him with this unhappy baby.

“Trouble is, I don’t know what I’m doing and he senses it. He cries all the time. Never sleeps.” Colt’s shoulders sagged. “I think he hates me.”

With each word, Kati’s foolish heart lifted a few inches. He really was desperate. She just might be able to pull this off. “Have you considered turning him over to Social Services?”

Colt wagged his shaggy head. “Even though there are some good foster parents out there, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. For some reason Evan’s mother trusted me to care for him, and I’m going to do that until I find her.”

Sadness shimmied through Kati, her thoughts centered on the poor abandoned baby in her arms. This little boy had narrowly missed placement in foster care, a life that Kati knew all too well. She’d do anything—anything to spare him that. Her desire to care for him shot up a notch. Certain she was helping all concerned, Kati buried her nose in Evan’s soft, powder-scented neck and battled the guilt of using Colt’s kindness against him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garret.” With steely determination she stood and tenderly handed him the sleeping baby. A puzzled Colt slipped his dark, powerful hands beneath the child, cradling the small body against his wide masculine chest. Kati glanced away and gulped. In the next two minutes she needed to be convincing, not moved to tears by the sight of a big ol’ cowboy holding an innocent baby.

Drawing upon a lifetime of pretending, Kati took a deep breath and coolly announced, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not interested in the job.”

Colt looked stunned. Panic filled his bloodshot eyes.

“What? No. You can’t do this. I need you. He needs you.” He came around the desk holding Evan against his shoulder with one hand while extending the other in a pleading gesture. “Please. The salary is good. You’ll have your own room, your own cook, the run of the place.”

She shook her head. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but the baby’s mother could return at any time. There’s no job security. Furthermore, the ranch is so secluded.”

Colt’s dark-brown eyes locked with her gray ones, using every ounce of his persuasive charm. If she hadn’t fully intended to take the job—under her own terms, of course—she’d have buckled from the pressure. The look Colt gave her was enough to melt the polar ice cap. And Kati was a marshmallow.

“Please,” he pleaded hoarsely, “I’ll pay you whatever you ask. Anything at all.”

He moved nearer, bringing with him the scent of man and baby mingled pleasantly together.

“You’re the only qualified applicant I’ve had.” He sounded pathetic—and smelled wonderful. “The references you gave me over the phone all checked out. I’ll raise the pay. Heck, I’ll even…buy you a car. You have to take the job.”

He stood within a breath of her, staring down into her face with such earnest persuasion that Kati was on the verge of agreeing to anything he asked. She tried backing away before she lost control of the entire situation. Colt reached out and touched her arm. Like the time all those years ago the thrill of his touch rendered her senseless. She couldn’t think. Her head started chanting Colt’s name.

“Anything, Kati,” Colt begged. “Name it, and it’s yours.”

She was mesmerized. A moth over the flame. A deer in the headlights.

“Anything at all,” he said softly, seductively.

Her heart thundered. Her ears rang. She couldn’t think straight. Why had she come here, anyway? Oh, yes. Because of Colt. To marry Colt. That was it.

“Marry me,” she blurted.

He stared at her as though she’d grown horns. She wondered if she had. This wasn’t the way she’d planned to say it. She’d wanted to remain rational and logical while they hammered out a business deal. Instead she’d become the blathering idiot of her nightmares.

Slowly, Colt withdrew his hand and took one step backward. His horrified gaze remained riveted on her face.