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Yuletide Baby Bargain Page 9
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Greer had immediately remodeled her bedroom and en suite. Maddie’s was a work in progress. She had an operable shower, but barely. And Ali’s was mostly a plan in her mind, which meant she was usually borrowing Maddie’s shower.
“True,” Greer was saying. “But I’d rather help with Layla’s bath than decorate the tree.”
“Fine. And when Ali comes home and finds it still undecorated, we’ll end up with a tree full of God knows what from the police station.” She’d threatened them with Wanted posters, but knowing Ali, the tree would be accessorized by handcuffs and billy clubs.
Greer rolled her eyes and reached into the box. She pulled out a bundle of red and green garland. “Where is our baby sister, anyway?”
A whopping total of thirty minutes had separated their three births. Ali appreciated being called the baby about as much as Maddie appreciated being called by her given name, Maude.
“She probably got called in to work again. You know how her sergeant has been riding her lately.”
“Yeah, well, baby sister should have thought about the ramifications before she decided to date then dump her sergeant’s son.”
“Come on, Greer. That’s a little harsh.”
“Sorry! But we all know it’s never a good idea to be too female in our respective workplaces. It only ends up biting us in the butt.”
More so with Ali than either one of them, Maddie thought.
She waited long enough to see that Greer really was putting the garland on the tree, then carried Layla out of the room. She stopped in the laundry room to toss the sleeper into the wash and patrolled the house for open windows before proceeding upstairs to Greer’s bathroom.
It was a little chilly, so she turned on the heat lamp before pulling out a clean towel that she spread over the white and black hexagon tiled floor. She settled Layla on the towel while she started the bathwater. Once there were a few inches of warm water and she had soap and towels at the ready, she reached for the baby, who’d managed to get a foot away, simply by virtue of her churning legs. “Not so fast there, speedy.” She pulled off the diaper and swung the baby over the edge of the claw-foot tub. Layla squealed, obviously delighted, when her toes hit the water.
“So you like baths.” Kneeling next to the tub, Maddie lowered the baby until she was seated, keeping a secure hold of her. “That’ll make this nice and easy. I bet your mommy gave you lots and lots of baths.” She dunked the washcloth in the water and squeezed it over Layla’s shoulders. The baby laughed and Maddie’s heart melted. “Oh, sweet pea. I don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She sluiced more water over her and ran the wet washcloth over her head, turning the soft blond tufts dark. “But we’re going to get it all figured out,” she murmured. “You’re going to have a happy ending. That, I can promise you.” She reached for the bar of soap.
The pink lotion she’d spread over her arms was beginning to wash away from the bathwater.
She sighed a little.
She could promise Layla a happy ending.
But she couldn’t promise the same thing to Linc.
And she was uncomfortably aware that she was beginning to wish she could.
Chapter Seven
Maddie awkwardly maneuvered the stroller she’d borrowed from one of her most reliable foster moms through the front office door of Swift Oil.
It was Monday morning. There were two inches of snow on the ground outside.
And Maddie had spoken with Judge Stokes’s clerk.
A middle-aged woman was sitting behind the modern-looking reception desk and she quickly hopped up when she spotted Maddie and came over to hold open the door for her. “Let me help you.”
“Thanks. I think—” she edged the stroller slightly to the left and felt it clear the threshold “—I’ve got it.” She looked over the top of the stroller at Layla, bundled in her fleecy sleeper and the puppy-patterned blanket that had been in the bag of stuff Linc had brought to the house on Saturday. The baby’s eyes were bright and blue above the squeaky giraffe she was chewing. The toy had also been in the bag. Along with a rattling ball well-designed for infant hands and a purple, plastic horse.
“Isn’t she a sweetheart?” The woman’s expression was openly longing as she let the door close and moved around the stroller to admire Layla. “I keep waiting for a grandchild, but so far neither of my sons is cooperating.” She finally looked up at Maddie and introduced herself. “I’m Terry. Receptionist and—”
“Gatekeeper.”
Maddie’s heart jumped in her chest. They both looked over to see Linc. He was standing in one of the hallways that extended from both sides of the reception area.
Terry was much less surprised. “And gatekeeper,” she said with a chuckle as she straightened and tugged at the hem of her bulky Christmas sweater. “I was just getting ready to ask this pretty mama what I could do for her.”
Maddie flushed. “I’m not Layla’s mother. I’m only her care provider,” she corrected. “And—”
“She’s here to see me,” Linc told Terry. “Layla’s my niece.”
Terry looked delighted.
Maddie felt dismayed.
“I didn’t know your brother had children,” Terry said. “Your mother never mentions grandchildren when she comes by the office.”
Linc’s expression turned sardonic. “You know Jolene. She’d pretend that Jax and I were still in short pants if she could. Otherwise, it’s getting harder for her to pretend to still be thirty-nine.”
Terry just laughed and swatted her hand at him, as if he were joking. Maddie was fairly certain that he hadn’t been. “Go on with the both of you, then. Someone has to work around here.”
“Come on back to my office.” Linc turned on his heel, disappearing beyond the stylized black wall that bordered Terry’s work area. Maddie quickly pushed the stroller forward to follow him.
“Nice meeting you,” she told Terry as she passed her.
“You too, honey.” The phone on Terry’s desk beeped and she reached out to answer it. With her other hand, she waved bye-bye to Layla.
Maddie caught up to Linc only because he was waiting at the point where the hallway turned left in front of a glass wall.
“In here.” He stepped aside so she could push the stroller through the door that was propped open.
Why had she ever thought it was such a good idea to tell him about the hearing in person? A phone call would have done just as well. And she could have put off being anywhere near him for another twenty-four hours.
But she was there.
Bing Crosby was softly crooning “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” on the sound system.
She entered the office.
Linc lifted his arm, nearly brushing her shoulder, and she drew in a quick breath.
He merely pushed the door so that it swung shut. It was a glass door. Entirely transparent. It shouldn’t feel like he’d just closed out the rest of the world.
But it did.
She slowly exhaled. He was dressed in jeans and heavy work boots, with a dark gray shirt hanging open over a white T-shirt. And though he looked like he’d be more comfortable around an oil rig, he smelled like a guy gracing the cover of GQ.
Or how she imagined such a guy would smell.
One part of her wondered how quickly she could get that seductively woodsy scent out of her head and one part of her wondered how long she could hold on to it.
She watched him move behind a massive wood desk that wasn’t the list bit modern. He sat in his chair and leaned back, propping one boot on the corner of his desk as he gestured to the chairs in front of it. “Sit. Otherwise, you look like you’re ready to make a run for it.”
Great. She felt her face flush and rolled the stroller closer to sit in one of the chairs. She pulled the front of the stroller aroun
d so that Layla could still see her, and moved aside the blanket so the baby wouldn’t swelter in the warmth of the office.
“Sleeping in your parkas yet?”
She ignored him. Mostly because he wasn’t far from the mark and her face was already feeling flushed enough. His and her father’s dire predictions about the house getting too cold without the furnace had been pretty accurate. Maddie had kept Layla in bed with her, just to make sure the baby stayed warm enough, and Greer had gone around town borrowing space heaters from their friends. “Judge Stokes scheduled the hearing for tomorrow,” she told him baldly. It was supposed to be the reason she was there. “Nine a.m. sharp. I was in the area, so I figured I’d save a phone call.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
She ignored the taunting voice inside her head.
He dropped his boot to the floor and leaned his arms on the papers strewn across the desk. His long fingers closed together. “Sooner than you expected. That’s good though?”
“It’s not bad,” she allowed. She hadn’t spoken with him since Saturday. “I should have called to thank you for the calamine.”
He lifted a few fingers dismissively. “Doesn’t look like you need it so much now.”
“Not so much.” She made herself lower the hand she’d lifted self-consciously to her cheek. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Jax?” She knew it was a long shot and when he shook his head, she wasn’t surprised. “And your DNA test? Is it scheduled?”
“I’m heading over to the hospital in Weaver this afternoon about two. Hook’s going to meet me there.”
“That’s good.” She leaned over to pick up the giraffe when Layla threw it.
“Want to go with me?”
She nearly dropped the giraffe herself. She handed it back to the baby, trying not to stare at Linc. “I, uh, I—” She broke off and cleared her throat.
“Never mind,” Linc said before she could think of what to say. “It was just a thought.”
“No, I just—” She broke off when there was a noise behind her, and looked over her shoulder to see Blake Swift pushing through the glass door.
“Linc, what’s this bullsh—” Blake abruptly stopped speaking, whether because he realized he had more of an audience than he expected or because of the glacial look that his son was giving him, Maddie couldn’t tell.
“Well, well.” Blake’s expression shifted from annoyance to something else that Maddie couldn’t quite put a name to. He strode across the gleaming wood floor to take her hand. “And who is this pretty little thing? I’m sure we’ve never met.” His thumb moved across the back of her hand. “I would certainly have remembered you.”
Wolfish.
That was what it was.
There could never be any doubt that Blake was Linc’s father. Or any doubt that Linc would be just as handsome in another twenty-some years.
But for all of her opinions about Linc, that expression was one she had never seen on his face. She sincerely hoped that looks were the only thing he’d inherited from his father.
She slid her hand free from Blake’s, resisting the urge to wipe it against her jeans as she leaned down to retrieve the giraffe from the floor once again. “Maude Templeton,” she said crisply. “And we have met, actually. A long time ago.” She’d been eleven.
She looked at Linc. “This afternoon sounds fine.” She handed the giraffe to Layla and stood. “I’ll leave you to your business.”
“Templeton,” Blake was murmuring. “The name sounds familiar.”
“Maddie,” Linc spoke over his father. “You don’t have to go.”
“I do. I, uh, I have a meeting—”
Blake suddenly snapped his fingers, interrupting her lie. “Maddie. Your mama’s Meredith Templeton.” His lips curved. “Well, no wonder. You’re as pretty as she was. You’ve got a sister, too, don’t you? Twins?”
“Triplets.” Like it or not, there were no other sets of triplets in Braden that she was aware of. The locals tended to know who she and her sisters were even if their paths had never specifically crossed, which wasn’t the case where Blake was concerned.
She edged around the stroller, keeping her eyes on Linc. “Shall I meet you there?” She felt reluctant to mention exactly where they were going in front of his father.
Linc had leaned back in his chair again. “I’ll pick you up. No need for us both to drive.”
She nodded. “Okay, then.” She started forward with the stroller. She couldn’t pass Linc’s father without saying something, but she was darned if she’d tell him it had been nice to see him again. Not when he was the reason her mother had felt forced to stop cleaning for Ernestine all those years ago.
Nevertheless, Maddie managed a polite smile as she steered Layla around him. Because her mother would have her hide if she ever learned Maddie was rude to anyone. Even Blake Swift. “Have a nice afternoon.” She pushed the stroller through the still-open door.
* * *
Linc thoughtfully watched Maddie’s hasty exit.
When she was no longer in sight, he slid his attention to his father.
Blake had thrown himself down in the chair that Maddie had vacated.
“What do you know about Meredith Templeton?” Linc kept his tone mild, but inside he felt anything but.
“She was a sweet piece of—” Blake frowned a little when Linc glared. “Work,” he finished. “She used to clean house for Mother, until—” He broke off.
“Until?”
Blake shrugged. “Until she quit.”
Linc had never once given any thought to why Maddie’s mom had stopped cleaning for Ernestine all those years ago. His grandmother had gone to the same church as Carter and Meredith Templeton. She’d always liked Meredith. Used to say that she had “pluck.”
But now, he knew there was a reason.
And that it involved his own father.
“What’d you do? Sleep with her, too?”
Blake huffed, assuming a wounded expression. “No!”
Understanding hit. “She turned you down.” Good for Meredith.
Blake’s lips twisted. “Don’t know why. It’s not like she was such a saint. Her reputation—”
“Don’t.” Linc lifted his hand. “Don’t even go there.” He couldn’t stomach hearing his dad badmouth Maddie’s mother. “What’d you barge in here for, anyway?”
“My contact at OKF tells me you’re backing out of the deal.”
“There was never a deal.”
Blake’s eyes hardened. “My mother may have left you in charge here, but I still own just as much of an interest in the company as you and Jax do. We’ve all got a third, sonny boy.”
“And without one of the thirds here to side one way or the other, you and I are at a stalemate. Which means no deal.” Linc stood. “And the reason why your mother left me in charge was because she knew I actually cared about this company. And, because I do care, I’ve got work to do.”
He grabbed his jacket off the coat tree that had belonged to his grandfather. It, along with the desk, were the only things Linc had managed to save when his father had decided it was time to remodel the home office.
Just bringing it into the twenty-first century, Blake had said.
Since Linc had been busy negotiating drilling rights at the time, he’d been happy enough to keep Blake distracted with the remodel...and the pretty architect who’d been the latest to catch Blake’s eye.
“That’s not work you’re thinking about,” Blake said now. “It’s that pretty little Maddie. You responsible for that baby she’s got?”
“What if I am?” He knew what his unsubtle father was implying and didn’t care that his answer would be misconstrued.
Blake just laughed. “Then you’re more a chip off this old block than I gave you cre
dit for. Just be careful, boy. You’ll marry her, like I married your mama when she got knocked up with you, but she’ll end up turning on you the same way Jolene turned on me.”
“It’s amazing that you still believe you’re innocent where Mom is concerned.” His mother’s infidelities were generally in retaliation for his father’s.
Not surprisingly, his father didn’t turn a hair. “When Jax gets back, I’ll talk him around on the OKF deal,” he warned.
“The deal is dead. Period.”
“Then I’ll find another. Only good thing about Swift Oil is the money it’s worth. Money that I can spend a lot better somewhere else besides this bustling metropolis.”
“I’m sure you’ll try.” Blake always did. For as long as he’d lived in Braden, he’d claimed he’d wanted to be elsewhere. Linc pushed his father’s shoulder until Blake preceded him out of the office. “And nobody’s forcing you to stay here. There’s a perfectly good house waiting in Cheyenne that you insisted you had to have. Remember it?” As far as Linc knew, Blake hadn’t been there in several years.
“Your mother’s there. Drove over yesterday.”
“So that’s yesterday. What’s your excuse been for the last year?” He pulled the door shut. “Don’t answer that. I’m not interested in who she is.”
“A shame. She has a sister—”
Inured to his father’s ways, Linc simply walked away. His dad would either go into his own corner office and try cooking up another headache for Linc to deal with, or not.
He returned to the lobby. “I’m going out to check on Number Five, and then I’ve got to take care of some business in Weaver,” he told Terry. “Anyone calls, I’ll get back to them tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Linc.” Terry pushed a button on the fancy telephone switchboard. “Merry Christmas,” she said cheerfully into her headset. “This is Swift Oil. How can I help you?”
Outside, the ever-present wind was blowing a few snowflakes around and he turned up the collar of his jacket as he walked to his truck. Someone had stuck a circular under his windshield wiper. He pulled it loose, tossing it on his passenger seat as he got inside.