Five Brothers and a Baby Page 2

  Ry gave him a pat on the back, as he turned to leave. "You can handle it."

  "Yeah," Woodrow agreed, backing from the room. "You always were good at handling things, Ace."

  Ace clamped a hand on Rory's arm, stopping his brother before he could follow the other two from the room. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "Uh … to get the baby a bottle? Yeah, a bottle. She's probably hungry."

  Ace slowly relaxed his grip. "All right. But make it fast. I don't want her to start crying again."

  "Sure thing, bro," Rory promised … then turned and ran.

  Ace heard the front door slam behind all three of his brothers, the rev of three engines.

  And swore.

  * * *

  Bleary-eyed, Ace jostled the squalling infant on his shoulder as he watched the pan, willing the water to boil.

  "Come on, kid," he begged pitifully. "Give me a break. I'm doing the best I can."

  When the baby only cried louder, he snatched the bottle from the pan, shook a couple of drops of milk onto the inside of his wrist, testing the temperature, then used his foot to drag a chair out from the table.

  Easing down, he shifted the baby to cradle in the crook of his arm and stuck the bottle in her mouth. She latched on to the nipple and sucked, as if she hadn't eaten in a week, which he knew wasn't the case, since she'd gotten him up a minimum of three different times during the night to give her a bottle.

  With the baby occupied for the moment—and quiet—he reached for the phone book and drew it to the edge of the table, desperate to find someone to take care of the kid. He'd already called every child care facility listed in the Yellow Pages and been told by each that they didn't accept newborns. His only hope was to locate the woman who'd dumped the kid on him in the first place and try to hire her.

  And he'd do that just as soon as he remembered her name.

  It started with a D, he recalled, and was short. He quickly flipped pages to the D section and began to skim. Daily. Dale. Davis. Day. Dean. That was it! Dean. Maggie Dean. Relieved, he skimmed the listings, searching for her name, but didn't find anything that came even close. Unwilling to give up, he pushed aside the phone book and reached for the portable phone. He quickly punched in the number for directory assistance.

  "Information. May I help you?"

  "I hope so," he said with a weary sigh. "I'm looking for a listing for Maggie Dean." He frowned when the operator asked for the city. "I don't know. Some place in Texas, I'd guess."

  While he waited, he thumbed a line of milky drool from the corner of the baby's mouth and wiped it down the leg of his jeans.

  "I have a listing for a Maggie Dean in Killeen."

  Recognizing the town as one near Tanner Crossing, Ace went almost weak with relief. "That's bound to be her." He tucked the phone between shoulder and ear, while he grabbed a pencil.

  As he wrote down the number, it occurred to him that it might be better if he talked to Maggie face-to-face, rather than over the phone, figuring it would be harder for her to refuse him in person.

  "Do you have an address?" he asked. He jotted that down, as well, then thanked the operator for her help and punched the disconnect button.

  "Well, kid," he said, pleased with himself. "Looks like we're fixing to take us a little ride through the country."

  * * *

  To say Maggie lived in a low-rent district would be an understatement, Ace thought, as he drove slowly down her street.

  Wood-framed houses lined the narrow, potholed road, each less than spitting distance from its neighbors. Junk cars were parked along the curb and on the postage-stamp-sized lawns, while cast-off furniture and appliances seemed the decorative choice for sagging porches.

  As he searched the fronts of the jammed-together houses for her address, he found himself remembering the clunker of a car she had driven, the worn jeans, her work-roughened hands.

  He spotted the faded numbers of the address he'd jotted down and pulled to the curb in front. Like the other cookie-cutter houses surrounding it, it was sorely in need of repair. Peeling paint; missing shingles; a silver strip of electrical tape stretching across a broken windowpane. A sidewalk shot in a straight line from the street to the porch. Halfway up to the house there was a hump in the walk where the concrete had broken and the parched earth had forced it to buckle.

  But unlike the neighboring houses, no cars were left abandoned on Maggie's lawn. No ratty furniture or rusted appliances cluttered her small porch. Though her attempts at improving the place were meager, the pride she took in her home was obvious. A sprinkler turned lazily beneath an already blazing sun, casting badly needed water over clumps of newly planted plugs of grass. From the porch eaves hung wire baskets filled with a colorful array of cascading flowers. On the front door, a wooden sunflower with the word Welcome hand-painted in the flower's center greeted guests.

  Ace tried to name the emotion that suddenly crowded his throat. Pity? No, he thought. Not pity. It was more an overwhelming sadness at her feeble attempts to make the dump a home. Which was stupid, he told himself, as he reached to unbuckle the seat belt from around the infant carrier. He didn't want to feel anything for this woman but relief when she agreed to return to the ranch with him and take care of the kid.

  He hooked an arm around the car seat and climbed down from his truck. Silently praying he could convince Maggie to see things his way, he strode for the front door. He rapped his knuckles on the wood just above the Welcome sign, then shifted the carrier to a more comfortable position on his hip and waited. The faint sound of music came from somewhere inside. Country, he noted with relief, not that god-awful heavy metal so many favored these days.

  The door opened and he quickly stuck a foot in the opening before she could slam it in his face.

  Narrowing her eyes at him through the crack that remained, she kept a firm grip on the door. "What do you want?"

  "Your help." When she tried to shut the door again, he put a shoulder against it. "Please. Just hear me out."

  She glared at him for a good five seconds, then dropped her gaze, noticing the infant for the first time. She gulped, staring, then set her jaw and released her hold on the door.

  "Make it fast," she said, as she turned back into the room. "I have to go to work."

  Ace quickly pushed his way past the door, before she changed her mind about letting him inside. "Ten minutes, max," he promised. He glanced around, noting the cleanness, if scantiness, of her furnishings. "Mind if I sit down?"

  Folding her arms beneath her breasts, she tipped her head toward the sofa beneath the front window, but kept her lips pressed tightly together. Her silence didn't worry Ace. He planned on doing most of the talking anyway. He plunked the carrier down on the sofa, then rolled his arm, lengthening the cramped muscles, before dropping down beside it.

  Stretching his arms out along the sofa's back, he focused his gaze on her. Another time, he might have taken a moment to admire the length of long legs exposed by the short denim shorts and the swell of breasts beneath the red bandanna print cropped shirt, but at the moment he was more interested in finding a baby-sitter for the kid than he was the anatomy of a good-looking woman. "I've got a proposition for you."

  "If you're here to try to persuade me to take the baby, you're wasting your time. I've already told you I can't keep her."

  He shook his head. "No. Actually, I came to offer you a job."

  She rolled her eyes. "I have a job. Now, if you don't mind—"

  Ace held up a hand, cutting her off. "Just hear me out. My brothers and I are willing to take responsibility for the ki—" At her arched brow, he amended quickly, "I mean baby. But, as I said before, we're just a bunch of bachelors and don't know the first thing about caring for an infant. The obvious solution, as far as I can see, is to find a relative of Star's who'd be willing to take the baby in. I plan to hire a private detective to track down Star's family, but in the meantime…" He lifted his hands. "Someone's got to take care of the ba
by."

  "And you want me to be that someone."

  "You seem the perfect choice. You obviously developed an affection for the baby while you had her, and you're already familiar with her routine."

  "I have a job," she reminded him. "Plus, I go to college part-time. I don't have the time or energy to take on anything else."

  "I'm not asking you to. What I'm proposing is that you quit your job, take a break from your classes. Work fulltime for me. As a nanny of sorts." He watched her face and was sure that he saw a change in her expression. Interest? "How much money do you make as a waitress?" he asked.

  Her chin came up. "That's none of your business."

  "I wasn't being nosy. Just trying to establish a base. How about if I offer to pay you say … six hundred a week."

  Though she didn't say a word, he could tell by the rounding of her eyes that his offer was a hell of a lot more than she currently earned waiting tables. "And free room and board," he added, hoping to sweeten the pot a little more. "Does that sound like a fair offer to you?"

  He watched her throat convulse in a swallow and knew she was close to saying yes. In hopes of tipping her over the edge, he pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket and tossed it to her. "Call your boss. Tell him you quit. We can use my truck to haul whatever you want to take with you to the ranch."

  She slowly flipped open the cover of the phone. She'd punched in at least four numbers, before she stopped. "I can't."

  He pushed out a hand, urging her to complete the call. "Sure you can. Once you've given your notice, we're outta here."

  "But what happens to me if you're able to locate Star's family? I'll be out of a job." Pressing her lips together, she snapped the cover on the cell phone back into place. "I won't do it. Jobs are too hard to come by. You'll have to find someone else."

  Ace leaped to his feet. "Dammit! There isn't anyone else! I've already called every child care facility in town and was told they don't take newborns."

  Awakened by Ace's shouting, the baby began to whimper. He dropped his head back and groaned. "Please, don't start squalling again," he begged. "My nerves can't take any more."

  In the blink of an eye, Maggie had tossed aside the phone and was across the room, snatching the baby from the car seat.

  "She's been crying?"

  "Yeah," he said cautiously, watching her. "Most of the night."

  Her face creased with worry, she gently laid the baby on the sofa and began to examine her. "Did you feed her?"

  "Yeah. Three or four times."

  "Change her diaper?"

  He shuddered upon being reminded of that disgusting task. "Yeah. And she's definitely not constipated, if that's what you're worried about."

  Maggie picked up the baby and held her against her shoulder, as she began to pace. "Did she sleep at all?"

  "Some, I guess. At least, I assume she was sleeping, when she wasn't screaming."

  Maggie continued to pace, while frantically patting the baby on the back. "It's okay, precious," she soothed. "Maggie's got you now."

  Ace watched, kicking himself for not thinking of just handing over the baby when he'd first walked in the door, instead of waving money in front of Maggie's face. It appeared the kid was much more of an inducement than a big salary.

  There was a loud burp and Maggie jerked to a stop to look at the baby in surprise. She turned slowly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Ace. "Did you burp her?"

  "Burp her?"

  "Yes. At least twice while she was having her bottle."

  He lifted a shoulder. "Didn't know I was supposed to."

  "Seven hundred."

  Ace looked at her confusion. "What?"

  "Seven hundred a week. And I'll need at least one day off."

  Though he hoped this was the last time he ever had to touch the kid. Ace pried the baby from Maggie's arms. "Seven hundred it is." He nodded toward the cell phone she'd dropped. "Now why don't you make that call so we can get this kid home before she needs another feeding."

  Maggie took the baby right back from him. "No. I'd rather give my notice in person."

  "How long will that take?" he asked in frustration.

  "I don't know. A half hour or so. But there's no need for you to wait." She clutched the baby tighter against her chest. "Laura can ride along with me."

  * * *

  Two

  « ^ »

  When a woman doesn't own much, it doesn't take her long to pack. Maggie completed the task within fifteen minutes of Ace's departure. Within thirty, she was standing in front of the Longhorn Restaurant and Saloon, the baby in her arms, taking one last look at the place she'd worked for the past four years.

  After sundown, when the oversized neon horns above the entrance were lit and the parking lot was jammed full of vehicles, the Longhorn didn't look half bad. But in daylight, with the cracks on the stucco facade as glaring as varicose veins on an aging woman's legs, and the sidewalk and the parking lot littered with empty beer cans and debris, it looked shabby, cheap.

  But Maggie was used to shabby and cheap. She'd lived with both all her life. She intended to see that Laura didn't have to do the same.

  Pressing a kiss against the top of the baby's head in a pledge to fulfill that promise, she headed for the rear of the building. Finding the delivery door locked, she used her key to enter. The hallway she stepped into was dark, as were the kitchen and public rest rooms she passed, but ahead she could hear Tammy Wynnette's soulful whine coming from the jukebox in the bar. She followed the sound and found Dixie Leigh, the Longhorn's owner, perched on a tall bar stool, studying her liquor order for the day, her eyes squinted against the thin column of smoke curling from the tip of the cigarette she held clamped between her teeth. With her bottle-red hair teased high, false eyelashes and skin tight jeans, Dixie looked much the same as the building she owned—faded and cheap.

  But beneath the layers of heavy makeup and too-tight clothing, Maggie knew lay a heart of solid gold.

  "Hey, Dixie," she called softly.

  Dixie jumped, then snatched the cigarette from her mouth and scowled. "Girl, don't you know how to knock? You almost made me swallow this thing."

  Biting back a smile, Maggie approached the bar. "Shouldn't smoke."

  "Shouldn't do a lot of things," Dixie grumbled, "but there you are." She shifted her gaze to the baby, her frown deepening. "I thought you took that kid to the Tanners?"

  "I did. Ace brought her back this morning."

  "Ace? He'd be Buck's oldest. The wildlife photographer."

  "He didn't mention his line of work."

  Dixie grunted. "Guess he was too busy dumping the kid and hightailing it to take time for any small talk. A shame, too, since all the Tanner men are blessed with such pretty faces."

  Maggie couldn't vouch for all the Tanner men, but if the rest of them looked anything like Ace, they'd been blessed with more than just pretty faces. They had the bodies to go along with them. "I really didn't notice," she said vaguely.

  Scowling, Dixie tamped out her cigarette. "Which is more the shame." She fluttered her fingers, motioning for Maggie to bring her the baby. After settling the infant in the crook of her arm, she lifted the blanket back from its face. Her lips trembled as she looked down at the sleeping infant. "Ain't she just the prettiest little thing," she murmured. "The spittin' image of her mama."

  Maggie heard the tears in Dixie's voice and felt her own throat constrict. "Yes, she is."

  Dixie shook her head with regret. "Seems like I should've been able to do something to prevent all this. The minute Star walked into the Longhorn, I knew that girl was headed for a bad end. Had tragedy written all over her."

  "She needed a job and you gave her one," Maggie said in her employer's defense. "What Star did with her free time was her choice and no fault of yours."

  Dixie sighed wearily. "I suppose." She stared down at the baby a moment longer, then glanced up at Maggie. "So you're going to keep her, after all?"

  "Oh, Dix.
You know I can't."

  "Then what are you going to do with the child?"

  Maggie avoided Dixie's gaze, knowing her employer probably wouldn't approve of her plans. "That's what I came by to talk to you about."

  Dixie narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like what you have to say?"

  Maggie lifted a shoulder. "Probably because you're not."

  "Well, you might as well spit it out," Dixie snapped irritably. "Dragging out the telling isn't going to make it any easier for me to swallow."

  "Ace has asked me to work for him as Laura's nanny."

  For a moment, Dixie could only stare. "You're quitting your job here?"

  "I'd rather think of it as taking a leave of absence," Maggie said, hoping to soften the blow—and at the same time leave a door open for herself should she need it. "If you'll let me, I'd like to come back once Ace locates Star's family."

  "Star didn't have family," Dixie reminded her drolly.

  "No," Maggie agreed. "At least, not that she mentioned to us. But Ace is convinced she has a relative somewhere. An aunt or a distant cousin, maybe, who'd be willing to take the baby. He's hiring a private detective to track them down."

  "And you think this private eye's gonna find someone?"

  Maggie shook her head. "I think if Star had any family, she would've told me."

  "Then why are you letting the Tanners waste good money chasing folks who don't exist?"

  "They can afford it. Besides, it'll give Laura some time."

  "Time for what?"

  "To win them over." Curving a hand around the top of the baby's head, Maggie smiled down at the sleeping infant. "A few weeks with this sweet little angel and they won't be able to let her go."

  "Ace has already told you they don't want her."

  "No," Maggie corrected, straightening. "He said they didn't know how to take care of a baby. With me there to see to her needs, that won't be a problem."

  Dixie eyed her suspiciously. "You see yourself in this kid, don't you? You think by sticking with her, you can prevent happening to her what happened to you."

  Maggie stiffened defensively. "I'm only doing what Star asked me to do."