Yuletide Baby Bargain Page 7

  “Does your dad still have a hand in running Swift Oil?”

  “Why?” The single word held a wealth of suspicion.

  She let out a huff. “I don’t know! Do you have to be so touchy? I’m just making conversation and trying not to scratch! I’ve never had poison ivy, but I bet this is worse.”

  He braked at a stop sign and looked over his shoulder at her again. “It’s not worse than poison ivy. I had it when I was a kid. Your face isn’t even all that red anymore. And I’m not touchy.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “O...kay.”

  His jaw canted to one side. But then he turned to face the wheel once more and continued driving. “I contacted one of my lawyers while you were in with the doc.”

  “And?”

  “He specializes in mineral rights. He referred me to someone else who deals in family law.”

  She knew all the attorneys in the area who handled anything remotely regarding family law. There were only a few, including her brother. “That’s good. Who?”

  “Tom Hook. Over in Weaver. He’s setting up the DNA testing. So it will all be official, in case I need to use the results in court.”

  “Tom’s a good guy.” A rancher as well as a lawyer, the older man had a sensible approach to things that Maddie generally appreciated. “He handled a custody case I was involved with a few years ago.”

  “You’re not going to argue about it with me?”

  She couldn’t help groaning as she wriggled in the seat, rubbing her itching back against the leather upholstery behind her. “Just because I’m following the rules about Layla’s immediate status doesn’t mean I’m hoping you’re not her uncle. For her sake, I mean. Get that established and things are much simpler. Until Jax returns or we find Layla’s mother or another close family member, you’ll have every right to request she be placed in your care. Until then, or if the test is negative—”

  “It won’t be.”

  She ignored that. “Then shelter care is still necessary. Did Tom give you any idea when the test would be scheduled?” If genetic testing was conducted for legal reasons, there were certain stipulations that had to be followed. The entire process was witnessed. Strictly controlled and documented.

  “He’s getting back to me on it.”

  He turned down another street and they passed Magic Jax, the bar his brother owned. “Have you talked to any of Jax’s workers at the bar? Seen if anyone there knows how to reach him?”

  “The manager.”

  “And?”

  “He’s new. Didn’t even know Jax had left town. But then the guy doesn’t strike me as the sharpest crayon in the box.”

  “What about the servers?” The last time she was in the bar—admittedly quite some time ago—all of the servers had been female. Comely ones. Jax liked comely women.

  He shook his head. “I just spoke with the manager this morning. Bar doesn’t open until later this afternoon.”

  She studied the back of Linc’s head. His thick hair was a little long at the neck. A little wavy at the ends. At his grandmother’s funeral, it had been rigidly short.

  “Is that scratching I hear?”

  She immediately flattened her fingers against her thighs, holding them still. Beneath the denim, her skin felt on fire. “No.”

  “You always were a bad liar.”

  She made a face at the back of his head. Childish? Yes. But also satisfying. “Unlike you, who always spoke the truth. As you saw it, anyway.”

  He made another turn. “We’re back to that? Are you ever going to get over it? It was a decade ago.”

  “Thirteen years.” The words escaped before she could stop them.

  “Fine. Thirteen years ago. You and Jax weren’t suited. I’m sure your parents thought the same thing.”

  Her dad had been full of dire warnings about Jax’s reputation. Her mother had been less concerned; she’d understood that Maddie and Jax were just buddies. Of course, Meredith had once caught Maddie doodling Mrs. Lincoln Swift all over her notebook, too.

  His eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror again. “Are you going to sit there and say you’ve been nursing a broken heart for Jax ever since? What’s been stopping you? I’ve been gone for more than half that time.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  He gave a disbelieving snort. “He’d have broken your heart long before now if I hadn’t stopped things before they went too far. And you have to know it, too, by now.”

  It was her turn to snort. “As if that was your concern. You just didn’t want Jax being serious about me. My mother had cleaned house for your grandmother. We weren’t country-club folk.”

  “Country-club folk!” They’d reached her house and he pulled up to the curb, stopping so hard that she jerked forward. He looked back at her again. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Braden doesn’t even have a country club. Not then. Not now.”

  “No, but there were still differences between your family and mine. You got back from graduating college and decided I wasn’t good enough for your family and that was that!”

  “It wasn’t you who wasn’t good enough. Even as a teenager, Jax was a chip off our old man. I didn’t want him putting you through the wringer.”

  Layla whimpered and Maddie automatically stroked her soft little arm, soothing her. “Please. You’d been off to college for four years. At that point, I bet I knew Jax better than you did. He wasn’t going to put me through any wringer!”

  “Well, if you thought he’d put a ring on your finger, you were going to be disappointed. Jax still doesn’t know how to commit to anyone. And he doesn’t give a damn who gets hurt in the process.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake! I was seventeen. I didn’t want a ring. Pretty much all I wanted was a date to prom!” She shoved open her door and hopped out, intending to go around and unbuckle Layla from the other side, but Linc beat her to it.

  “Just go inside and take care of yourself,” he said when she hovered near his side while he struggled to release the car seat. “I’m not going to steal her, for Christ’s sake.”

  She supposed she deserved that.

  She turned and headed toward the house, scrubbing her palms down her legs as she went. The front door was closed, which she took as a good sign. When she went inside, though, it was only marginally cooler.

  All of the supplies that Linc had brought earlier had been moved inside and stacked on the couch, covering nearly every inch.

  The Christmas tree had been pushed into one corner of the living room. Even though Maddie had to admit that it was a nicely shaped tree—now that it was put together properly—she had no desire to go near it ever again. If it were going to have more decoration on the green branches than a few hundred tiny white lights, Greer would have to hold up her end of things.

  Beyond that, there was no sign of Ali or her dad.

  Linc came in, holding the carrier in front of him as if it was a bomb in danger of going off. “She’s still asleep,” he whispered.

  “Congratulations. Set her carrier in that chair.” She pointed to one of the armchairs near the couch. “She’ll be fine there for a while.”

  He did as she asked, then stood back, hands on his hips as he studied the room.

  She looked at it through his eyes. The furniture was straight out of the eighties. A shag rug equally mismatched to the Victorian architecture partially covered the parquet wood floor, not even remotely hiding all of the boards needing repair. “What’s wrong, now?”

  He just shook his head and silently moved the armchair until it was butted up against the other chair, effectively walling in the car carrier. “Now there’s no way she can fall out.” He was still whispering, even though Maddie hadn’t.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. The car seat harness still buckled around Layla
would have done the trick, but oddly, Maddie didn’t have the heart to point it out to him. Or address the fact that the play yard that was pushed against the wall doubled quite well as a crib.

  Instead, she waved at the couch. “You really overdid it with the supplies. But thank you. It was very generous.” She pressed her fingertips against her chin, trying not to scratch.

  He pulled off his jacket and tossed it on top of the gigantic box of diapers. “Where do you want the swing?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “To stay in the box?”

  In answer, he pulled a folding knife from his pocket and silently began slicing open the tape holding the box closed.

  She exhaled. He clearly had no intention of leaving yet. “You are way too used to getting your way.”

  “Shh. You’ll wake her up.” Finished with the tape, he pocketed the knife again and folded open the box flaps. “And when I can get what I want, why not?” He began extracting the swing parts. “So, where do you want it?”

  Since the coffee table was the only place left in the room to sit, she sat down on the edge of it and tucked her hands under her thighs again. “I guess where the chair used to be before you fashioned it into a crib.”

  He set the white-painted metal legs on the marks left in the rug by the chair and reached back into the box. “Find me a screwdriver, and then go take something before you scratch holes through your jeans.”

  “I’m not scratching.”

  He just gave her a look.

  She got up and went into the kitchen where she hoped she would find a screwdriver lurking in one of the drawers. Her father hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d complained about their ability to keep hold of simple tools. For whatever reason, they kept disappearing, only to turn up in the strangest places.

  Maddie blamed it on Greer. Greer blamed it on Ali. Ali blamed it on ghosts.

  There was no screwdriver. Not in the drawers. Not on top of the refrigerator. Not inside the old-fashioned metal breadbox, even though Maddie had found a hammer there once.

  She went back into the living room.

  Layla was stirring, making sounds, but not yet opening her eyes. Linc was sitting on the floor, surrounded by infant swing parts. The directions—looking considerably more detailed than the Christmas tree instructions—were lying on the floor, but he didn’t seem to be giving them any attention. “I can’t find a screwdriver,” she admitted.

  “You can’t be a homeowner without basic tools.”

  “You sound like you went to the school of Carter Templeton.” She spread her hands. “What can I say? Blame the ghosts. Ali does.”

  He pulled out his pocketknife again. “Ghosts?”

  “It’s just something she says.” Heaven forbid he take that seriously. She could just imagine him in front of the judge. Your honor, she thinks her house has ghosts... “We don’t have ghosts.”

  “Glad to hear it. Did you at least take something for your rash while you were crashing around in the kitchen?”

  “I wasn’t crashing around.”

  “Enough to wake up Layla.”

  Maddie glanced again at the baby. Still no opened eyes. “I didn’t wake her up.” But she hadn’t gotten to the medicine cabinet yet, so she left the room again, heading upstairs.

  She found the bottle of calamine lotion without a problem. But the contents were separating and when she checked the expiration date, she could see why. She dropped the bottle in the trash and grabbed the box of antihistamine tablets, reluctantly swallowing a dose before going back downstairs.

  This time, Layla’s eyes were open.

  Maddie stepped around Linc, who was impersonating MacGyver by using his pocketknife as a screwdriver, and unfastened the harness straps so she could lift the baby out of the car seat. “Hello, sweet pea.”

  Layla screwed up her face and let out a lusty wail.

  Linc frowned accusingly. “What are you doing to her?”

  “Pinching her, of course,” Maddie deadpanned. “I’m sure she’s hungry.” She plucked one of the ready-to-use bottles from the case he’d brought and went into the kitchen. They still had only the one nipple. She quickly prepared the bottle and laughed softly when Layla grabbed for it, her wailing ceasing the second she got her mouth around the nipple.

  With Layla happily gorging herself, they returned to the living room once more. Maddie nudged one of the chairs away from its “crib” mate enough so that she could sit down with the baby in her lap.

  She watched Linc for a moment. He had the legs of the swing assembled and was working on putting together the seat. The direction sheet was now shoved halfway beneath the coffee table.

  “You seem pretty adept at that.”

  He didn’t look up. “Putting a few parts together—it’s not rocket science.”

  “Or a Christmas tree,” she murmured. She watched Layla’s blissful face for a few moments. “Why did your grandmother put in a nursery?”

  Chapter Six

  Why did your grandmother put in a nursery?

  Maddie’s question circled inside Linc’s head while he popped the seat into the motor assembly. He wondered if she already knew the answer. Or at least suspected. But if she did, she was better at hiding her thoughts than he’d given her credit for.

  Either way, he might as well tell her. There were plenty of other people who knew.

  Jax, for one. Not only had Dana cheated on Linc with him, it turned out she’d been cheating on Jax, as well.

  “Because my wife was pregnant.” Using the dinky screwdriver attachment on his knife, he tightened the seat.

  He finally glanced at Maddie when her silence lasted longer than usual.

  She was staring at him, her soft lips parted. “You have a child?”

  “No.” He connected the swing legs and tightened a few more screws. Nor did his wife, since she had chosen to end the pregnancy.

  Maddie was still staring. “I’ve never heard you’re married. You don’t wear a ring.”

  “That’s because I took it off when I stopped being married. It was a long time ago.”

  “How long?”

  He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Six years.” He flipped the swing right-side up and eyed the last part. It was a mobile meant to be hung from the housing above the seat. He unfurled the tightly wound purple and pink horses and threaded it into place. “I thought babies liked bunnies and bears and little baby stuff.”

  “Sorry?”

  He flipped his hand across the mobile, making it swing. “These are horses.”

  “Unicorns.” Still holding Layla, Maddie slid off the chair onto her knees and came closer. With her free hand, she stilled one of the dangling unicorns. “There’s the silver horn. It’s just a little bent, but the fabric will straighten out in time.” She stilled another. “This is a Pegasus. You’ll have to know these things with a little girl around. It’s all unicorns and a flying Pegasus at first. Until she gets a little older and then, like with me, it is all horses. Real ones. I always wanted one, but the closest I ever got to any was at your grandmother’s.”

  Her lashes lifted and he got a blast of her warm, chocolate eyes.

  She blinked once and looked back at the mobile. “She had three. Laughy, Taffy and Daffy. Taffy was always the first one to get to the apples we’d feed her.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. “You don’t need me to tell you about your grandmother’s horses.”

  Nor about Maddie and her sisters feeding them apples. Carrots. Whatever they could get their enthusiastic little hands on.

  He remembered all right.

  But he made a face and pushed to his feet. He’d do what was right where his brother’s child was concerned. But he didn’t want to sit there feeling this churning inside. He already had one barely healed ulcer. He didn’t wan
t another.

  “Call me when you come to your senses and are ready to stay at my house,” he said abruptly. “I’ll send someone to pick up all the gear so you don’t have to drag it along with you and the baby.”

  The soft look that had been in her eyes disappeared. She focused on the baby in her arms as she moved back to the chair. “I’ll call you when I know when the hearing is scheduled,” she corrected.

  He made himself shrug. As a little girl, she’d been shy and eager to please. As a teen, she’d been wide-eyed and innocent, no matter what she claimed about his brother and the prom. As a woman, he was quickly learning there was no point in arguing with her. He’d have to trust that she’d come to her senses soon enough. “Call me if you need anything else.”

  She gave a pointed look at the swing and the supplies covering the couch. “I think Layla is set for quite some time.”

  “And you?” Instead of heading to the door the way he should have, he crossed to her and lightly caught her chin, nudging it upward. She still had a splotch of red on her right cheek and a slightly smaller patch on her chest, right above the scooped neckline of her ivory sweater. Layla’s head was lolling against Maddie’s chest as she ate, causing the sweater to dip even more, giving Linc an excellent view of smooth, pale skin cupped by creamy white lace.

  Not that he looked.

  Layla’s big blue eyes were staring up at him, looking almost glazed. She didn’t even blink as she drank.

  Ernestine had never blinked when she was ferreting some truth out of him, either.

  So maybe he looked. For a second.

  Shoot him. He wasn’t dead.

  He let go of Maddie’s chin. “Are you set, too?”

  Her pupils seemed to dilate. The splotch on her cheek became less noticeable because the rest of her face turned pink. “For what?” Her voice sounded a little faint. Then her lashes lowered. She gave a quick cough. “I mean, I’m fine, too. I think the, um, the antihistamine is starting to kick in already.”