Kate Little - Baby On The Run

At the top of the stairs he turned left and led her to a small bedroom at the end of the hallway. A milk glass lamp on a small table by the bed cast the room in a soft glow. A full-size bed pushed against one wall took up most of the space. It was covered with a white-and-blue quilt with a traditional wedding ring pattern, a striped wool blanket folded at the foot of the bed and fluffy pillows.

A small white painted dresser and a rocking chair were the only other furnishings. The ceiling slanted with the eaves of the roof above, lending the room a cozy, warm feeling.

Carey saw that Ben had already brought up her duffel bag and other belongings and left them at the foot of the bed.

“Well…here you are. The bathroom is the next door down, on the right. My room is at the other end of the hall. If you need anything, just call me.”

As he spoke, he started to back out of the room. Carey watched from where she stood by the bed. He suddenly seemed nervous and she could guess why. The sight of the big empty bed made her acutely conscious of their attraction, too, and how he had just nearly kissed her… And now that they were alone together in this house all night long…

She imagined herself and Ben, lost in a rapturous embrace, rolling around on the big soft bed… Then she blinked to dispel the image.

Ben had been speaking, but she’d lost track.

“…well, good night. See you in the morning.” He stood in the doorway, his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans, filling the space with his big body.

She started to take a step toward him, then decided it was best to say good-night from a safe distance.

“Thanks again for all your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found us.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at her gratitude. “I’m just glad that you and Lindsay are okay. Good night, Carey…Merry Christmas.”

The soft, deep tone of his voice seemed to hold a note of longing, a single note that touched something deep within her.

“Good night, Ben.” She met his gaze briefly before he closed the door.

Chapter Three

Carey sat down on the edge of the bed. She listened as Ben’s footsteps faded down the hallway, followed by Dixie’s soft tread. Then she heard a door open and close.

What had gotten into her tonight?

She barely knew the man and here she was, ready to just…lose all control if he’d so much as kissed her.

It had to be the accident and being rescued by him. Feeling saved and protected. It had to be this cozy house and the spell cast by the firelight. She’d been fending for herself for a long time. She was tired and vulnerable. Especially tonight.

But she couldn’t let her guard down. Not even with a man like Ben. Especially not a man like him. One who was so honest and straight.

Carey dug through her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then found the power cord in her duffel and plugged it into the wall and the other end, into her phone.

She flipped it open and turned it on. There was a message and she recognized the number. Paul and Nora Newton. She dialed her mailbox and listened to the call.

“Carey, it’s Paul. I just wanted to check in with you, see where you’re at. Nora sends her love. We know you’re not having much of a Christmas, but we’re thinking of you. Give the baby a kiss for us and call when you can. We hope that you’re at least safe and warm.”

The familiar voice was a comfort. Paul and Nora were almost like parents to her. Yet she wondered if there was something more Paul wanted to tell her. Did he have some news about Quinn?

She’d call back tomorrow and let him know she was stuck in Maine for a few days. She hoped the delay wouldn’t help Quinn’s investigators catch up to her.

Lindsay was still sound asleep in the seat, which now sat on the bed, close to the wall. Carey leaned over and stroked the baby’s soft cheek with her fingertip.

They were definitely safe and warm here, in Ben Martin’s house. At least for tonight.

Carey woke slowly from a deep sleep. At first, she didn’t remember where she was. Then it all came back, the accident and Ben Martin. Sitting in his kitchen and then by the fire. Nearly kissing him… She remembered that very clearly.

She peered into the car seat that sat beside her on the bed. Lindsay was still asleep. She looked like a little angel. The makeshift cradle must be very comfortable, Carey thought.

The bedroom was filled with the soft glow of morning sunlight reflected off the freshly fallen snow. Carey got up and pulled back the curtains. The snowfall had ended sometime during the night and the sky was clear blue and cloudless. Every inch outdoors was covered with white.

Mostly, Carey saw tall pine trees. Out in front of the cabin, she saw the large green SUV. Someone—Ben, of course—had already shoveled in front of the cabin, cleaned off the vehicles and shoveled a car-wide path leading up to his private lane. She wondered if they would have trouble getting out of here today. She hoped not.

Lindsay began to stir and Carey picked her up, then took care of her. She set the basket in a safe place in the bathroom while she showered and dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater.

Her long curly hair was a sight, but she didn’t want to take the time to wash it. She swept it up in a loose knot and clipped it at the back of her head. She didn’t have any makeup handy, but did find some lip gloss in the bottom of her bathroom kit and swiped it on.

She would have liked to look nicer across the breakfast table this morning. But what was the difference? Ben’s interested glances and rare smiles might give her ego a boost. But nothing could come of it. She’d be leaving here in a day or two and would never see him again. She had to remember that. Though each time she stared into those blue eyes, she seemed to fall headfirst, into the deep end.

She carried Lindsay downstairs in her basket. The smell of coffee and something cooking led her to the kitchen.

Ben stood at the stove, his back turned toward her. He wore a dark blue Henley shirt over jeans. The soft knit fabric emphasized his broad shoulders and back. The worn jeans draped his lean hips and long legs like an advertisement for masculine sex appeal.

He turned to her, taking her in from head to toe with a sweeping glance. Carey was glad she’d gone for the lip gloss.

“Merry Christmas.” His voice was deep and quiet. Almost serious.

“Merry Christmas, Ben…I almost forgot,” she confessed.

“I didn’t have time to get you anything. So I made you some pancakes and bacon.”

He flipped a pancake with a long spatula, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

“The homemade gifts are always the best. Especially if they’re edible. Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so. There’s coffee in that pot. The pancakes will be done in a minute. How’s Lindsay this morning? Did she have a good sleep?”

“Straight through the night. She slept much later than usual, too.”

So did I, Carey realized, glancing at the clock. She felt embarrassed for coming down so late, while Ben had been up and about, shoveling snow and cooking pancakes.

Carey made Lindsay a bottle of milk and heated it in the microwave, then fed the baby some cereal and a jar of peaches. The baby was finished with her breakfast at just about the same time Ben brought the platters of food to the table.

Carey balanced Lindsay on her knee as she fixed herself a dish and started eating. “Mmm…these are good. How do you get them to come out so thin?”

Carey wasn’t very good in the kitchen and was impressed by anyone who could cook.

“The great chefs never tells their secrets.” He smiled slightly, then sat back and took a sip of coffee. “I owed you for the burned grilled cheese.”