Sherryl Woods - The Unclaimed Baby

“Where’s my girl?” he demanded. “I’ve spent the whole weekend wondering how she was getting along. Everybody at the ranch was offering up opinions, but I couldn’t wait to see for myself.”

So that was why he’d come, she thought, feeling oddly disgruntled by the discovery that this visit was all about the baby. Apparently he’d just been making idle, small talk with her, biding his time.

Before she could reply, Cord spotted the portable crib and headed straight for it. Sharon Lynn watched as he scooped the baby up and held her in the air. The baby gurgled with delight as she had earlier for Grandpa Harlan. Sharon Lynn wanted to haul the baby into her arms and explain that girls shouldn’t go trusting a man whose attentions were so fickle. Then again, maybe she was the one who needed that advice. She’d realized when Cord walked through the door that she’d been half watching for him all weekend long.

“You’ve made a conquest, I see.” She couldn’t seem to help the testy note in her voice. Fortunately Cord seemed oblivious to it.

“I’ve always been a big hit with ladies under two.”

Sharon Lynn was willing to wager he’d been a huge success with women of any age. Aside from his looks, there was that quick wit and easygoing charm about him that could weave a spell in the blink of an eye. If she’d been a lot less wary of men and relationships, she might have been taken with him herself. As it was, she could view the ingrained flirting with tolerant amusement. Or so she reassured herself.

“Have you ever been married?” she asked.

He took the out-of-the-blue question in stride.

“No, why?”

It was as if the words had just popped out of her head. She couldn’t have explained if her life depended on it. She swallowed hard and managed to improvise. “You’re so good with the baby. It’s as if you’re used to this. I thought maybe you’d had a wife and kids.”

He shrugged. “Nope. Just second nature, I suppose. I like kids, but I’ve never had any of my own. Guess I always thought kids deserved two parents who loved each other and intended to stick together through thick and thin. There’s never been a woman I felt that way about.”

“Lots of brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews?”

He shook his head. “No, an only child. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward big families with lots of kids underfoot.”

“Then you’re at the right place at White Pines. As you’ve seen already, the ranch is crawling with family.”

He settled the baby against his shoulder, then turned his penetrating gaze on Sharon Lynn. “Ever heard the expression about being all alone in a crowd? Sometimes when what you want most in the world seems almost within reach, it’s harder than ever to accept that you don’t really have it.”

As his words sank in, Sharon Lynn’s gaze sought out the baby. It was true. For the past two days, she had been caught up in a game of make-believe. She had held a child in her arms and despite all the disclaimers she had voiced to her family, she had pretended that the baby was hers to keep. She had longed for it to be so.

Knowing that it wasn’t, accepting that it might never be, brought the salty sting of tears to her eyes. Before she was aware he’d even moved, Cord had placed the baby back in the carrier and was drawing her into his arms. To her surprise, not only did she not resist, but she went willingly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He tucked her head beneath his chin, where she could feel the beat of his heart and smell the clean, masculine scent of him. The comfort was her undoing. Tears, never far from the surface these days, spilled down her cheeks and soaked the soft chambray of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I never meant to make you cry. What was it I said?”

“It’s not you,” she managed to choke out. “I’ve been a regular waterworks for months now. It doesn’t take much to set me off.”

He tipped her chin up with a finger, then swiped gently at her tears with his thumb. The tender gesture left her trembling.

“Want to tell me why?” he asked.

“Not really.” She regarded him with a watery glance. “Do you mind?”

“I mind that you’re sad, but I don’t mind that you’re not ready to share the reason for it with me. After all, we’re little more than strangers.”

Right now, though, Cord Branson didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like a trusted, undemanding friend, someone she—and the baby—could rely on. Everyone in her family was certainly reliable, but at the first sign of tears, they worried. They plagued her with solicitous invitations or plunked themselves down in her living room and tried to cheer her up. Adamses wanted to fix things for her. Cord seemed willing to just be there.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

“No need to thank me,” he insisted. “One of these days I’ll pry the secret out of you and then I’ll go after whoever hurt you.”

“I appreciate the thought, but heroics aren’t needed.” She rested her head against the solid wall of his chest again, unwilling to leave the warmth and comfort of his embrace, even though she knew it would be the wise thing to do. Her life had gotten complicated enough in the past few days without dragging him into the middle of the storm of emotions that the baby had unleashed inside her.

Finally she sighed and pulled away. When she glanced up, it was into twinkling eyes.

“No need to move on my account,” he said lightly. “I was just beginning to enjoy myself.”

She shot him a wry grin. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

His expression sobered at once. “You don’t have to be afraid with me, darlin’. Not ever.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

He touched a finger to her lips. “That’s not what I said. I said you don’t have to be afraid with me.

Nothing will ever hurt you when I’m around. That’s a guarantee.”

For reasons every bit as mysterious and every bit as certain as those that had led her to keep the abandoned baby with her, rather than turning her over to foster care, Sharon Lynn believed him.

Because she trusted him so implicitly, she glanced around Dolan’s to be sure everything that needed to be done before closing had been done, then met his gaze.

“Why don’t you come to my place for dinner? You can put the baby to bed, while I make spaghetti and a salad.”

“Throw in a beer and you’re on.”

Sharon Lynn froze at the mention of beer. Ever since the accident, she hadn’t wanted to be near anyone who was drinking, not even a single beer. Sensitive to the circumstances, everyone in the family had been careful to avoid alcohol around her. But, of course, Cord couldn’t possibly know that.

“I’m sorry. There’s none in the house.”

The words came out more stiffly than she’d intended. In the awkward silence that followed, she waited for him to suggest stopping off to pick up a six-pack, but after an intent study of her face, he merely shrugged.

“Soda will do, with coffee for a chaser,” he said easily.

“Now that I can accommodate,” she said, relieved that he hadn’t pushed, either for the beer or an explanation.

“Then let’s get out of here. Something tells me our little buddy here is going to be starving herself pretty soon and we’d better be ready to swing into action. She’s not nearly as patient as I am.”

Nothing about Cord Branson suggested he was the least bit patient, but Sharon Lynn let that pass. He’d allowed an awkward moment slide by without comment and that was all she cared about. A man who could ignore hints and innuendoes, who could detect a puzzle and let it rest until the solution was offered voluntarily was a rarity. After months of people poking and prying into her feelings, she was more grateful than he would ever know.