Книга - Yuletide Baby Bargain

Yuletide Baby Bargain
Allison Leigh


Christmas Miracle…or Christmas Mayhem?When Lincoln Swift finds a two-month-old infant on his doorstep, it's panic time! Still, he takes the child in, believing she's his missing in action brother's. Then he turns to social worker and old friend Maddie Templeton for help. But his relationship with Maddie is complicated by past quarrels and a present attraction that grows ever fiercer as they bond over the baby.Linc knows this instant family could be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Will he propose a more permanent arrangement to Maddie just for the baby's sake? Or will she drive a hard bargain of her own, holding out for the best Christmas gift a man could give?







Christmas Miracle...or Christmas Mayhem?

When Lincoln Swift finds a two-month-old infant on his doorstep, it’s panic time! Still, he takes the child in, believing she’s his MIA brother’s unless a DNA test proves otherwise. Then he turns to social worker and old friend Maddie Templeton for help. But his relationship with Maddie is complicated by past beefs and a present attraction that grows ever fiercer as they bond over the baby.

Linc knows this instant family could be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Will he propose a more permanent arrangement to Maddie just for the baby’s sake? Or will she drive a hard bargain of her own, holding out for the truest Christmas gift a man could give?


“I should have given you something to sleep in,” Linc said.

“No need.” It was much too easy to imagine slipping one of Linc’s T-shirts over her head. Of course, it had been a fantasy that had fueled her teenage self for a long time. “It’s one night. I’m fine like this.”

“Have you slept at all?”

She nodded and stood. The spacious nursery felt much too close. “I think I’ll fix Layla a small bottle. Maybe she’ll sleep afterward. You want to hold her?”

He immediately shoved his hands into his front pockets.

She averted her eyes from the fine line of dark hair running downward from the flat indent of his navel and headed toward the doorway. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“She’s happy with you.”

He flipped on lights as they made their way to the kitchen. Before Maddie could mix up more formula, Linc did.

She sat on one of the bar stools at the island and watched.

And wondered some more.

About him and Jax.

About the nursery.

About how the bare skin stretching over his shoulders would feel beneath her fingertips...

* * *

Return to the Double C: Under the big blue Wyoming sky, this family discovers true love


Yuletide Baby Bargain

Allison Leigh






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


A frequent name on bestseller lists, ALLISON LEIGH’s high point as a writer is hearing from readers that they laughed, cried or lost sleep while reading her books. She credits her family with great patience for the time she’s parked at her computer, and for blessing her with the kind of love she wants her readers to share with the characters living in the pages of her books. Contact her at www.allisonleigh.com (http://www.allisonleigh.com).


For beautiful little Monroe Lea,

who has been born into a wonderful family.

Welcome to the world!


Contents

Cover (#u7d71a20f-c6b6-5199-b099-b8ca24adfd35)

Back Cover Text (#u10538fec-4c3e-5a03-b6b1-11debd53fef0)

Introduction (#ufe9c0d81-15cd-57c7-b37e-ddd48437f663)

Title Page (#ucf49d3c3-ded2-5a59-b0d0-3885716c9291)

About the Author (#u31f6eac9-42ed-5d26-a763-7563655d2cef)

Dedication (#ub0c647fe-45a0-5740-87d6-4af67707f43c)

Chapter One (#uafdd6f3a-41e4-5c95-a7be-4eccd1010f8e)

Chapter Two (#u56b0301c-df12-5d30-a1df-76de541e8113)

Chapter Three (#u09f269d0-764a-5cc2-93e8-9f7164b10471)

Chapter Four (#ub5be4d0e-de5c-5241-aff2-49347215627f)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#uf078ba68-6042-5ccd-9461-528bac324d69)

“Are you a social worker or not?”

Maddie Templeton’s jaw tightened at the impatient words being spat at her through the phone line. She wished she could pretend she didn’t recognize the owner of the voice.

This was the last thing she needed. She’d already spent the entire day dealing with tying up troublesome details at work before a forced two-week vacation. Then she’d rushed home to change into somewhat date-worthy clothing and driven the thirty miles over winding roads from Braden to Weaver, where she was supposed to meet a man named Morton for dinner.

Only Morton had stood her up.

Instead of having a date for the first time in months—which was a generous estimate, if she were truthful—she’d ended up spending the evening with her grandmother. Not that Vivian wasn’t entertaining enough. She just wasn’t the kind of company that Maddie had been hoping for.

Now, it was after ten o’clock, and after returning to the house she shared with her sisters—knowing they were probably out with guys who’d never dream of standing them up—she just didn’t feel in the mood to deal with Lincoln Swift’s phone call.

Because she couldn’t stand Lincoln Swift.

If only she’d let the phone continue ringing as she’d walked in the door. Eventually, it would have gone to voice mail, and she’d be happily trespassing in Greer’s bathroom by now, watching her sister’s claw-foot tub fill with hot water while she decided what task to tackle first on her use-it-or-lose-it vacation time.

Instead, she leaned against the half-finished kitchen cabinets—the do-it-yourself refinishing job had been stalled for months—and fantasized about hanging up on him. After telling him just how little she thought of him.

After all these years, turnabout would be sweet.

But instead of letting every bit of her day’s frustration out on the man, she swallowed it down. “Yes, Linc, I am a social worker,” she said evenly. “What’s the problem?” There would have to be a problem to make Linc ever reach out to the likes of her.

“I don’t want to get into it on the phone. Just come to the house.”

“I’m sorry.” Even though her teeth clenched and her hand tightened around the receiver, she managed to channel the dulcet tone that Greer used in the courtroom before skewering someone. “What house?”

As if Maddie didn’t know perfectly well that he’d moved into the grand old mansion once owned by his grandmother Ernestine Swift after her death. Maddie knew every corner of that mansion, too. But only because as a child, she’d accompanied her mother every week when Meredith cleaned the place for Ernestine.

That was how she’d met Linc and his brother, Jax, in the first place.

They’d chased each other all over that place.

Until Linc had decided he was too old for such nonsense and pretty much seemed to forget Maddie existed.

Then it had been just Jax and Maddie.

Until Linc had decided that was nonsense, too.

“My brother’s gone and done it again.” Linc’s voice was tight. “Are you going to help me or not?”

When she and Jax had dated, they’d been in high school, but even then Maddie hadn’t been serious about him. He was a lot of fun. But good boyfriend material? Definitely not.

Aside from her sisters, though, he’d been just about her best friend in the world. Until Linc made sure she knew she wasn’t good enough for Jax in any way, shape or form.

That had been thirteen years ago, and it still held the record as the single most humiliating moment of her life—far outstripping being stood up by a computer programmer named Morton.

She dropped the dulcet tones for her usual frankness. “Jax is thirty years old, Linc. He’s a grown man. Whatever he’s gone and done, he can undo.” Jax had had plenty of practice, after all. And it wouldn’t be legal trouble. If it were, Linc definitely wouldn’t have called her. Swift Oil, his family business, had a phalanx of lawyers on the payroll.

“He’s not here. He’s out of town.” Linc sounded like he was talking through his teeth, too, and it took no effort at all to conjure an image of his face.

Which annoyed her to no end.

Even though she ran into Jax fairly often around town, she’d had only a few dealings with Linc since that long-ago mortifying day.

He ran an oil company.

She was a social worker.

Since he’d moved back to Braden when his grandmother died, they’d rarely run into each other. Which was saying something because, on a good day, the population there didn’t break 5,000. The last time she’d seen him in person had been at Ernestine’s funeral. Three years ago.

She’d offered her condolences and left the very second that she could.

She squared up the stack of paint chips sitting on the counter that her sisters had been squabbling over for a month, trying to block the memory of the grief that she’d seen in his face that day. “If Jax isn’t there, then what are you even calling me for?”

“Because his kid is here,” he said even more sharply. “Isn’t that what you deal with? Kids left to fend for themselves because their parents can’t be bothered?”

She straightened abruptly from her slouch, and felt her red sweater catch on a nail. He could have been describing his and Jax’s parents, but she had the sense not to point that out. She carefully unhooked the threads of her sweater before they unraveled. “Jax has a child?” She knew she sounded shocked, even though it wasn’t such a shocking thought.

Jax loved women, after all. He’d never been without at least one on his arm from the time he’d entered puberty. But he’d always claimed he’d never get caught by one the way his dad had been.

Linc made a sound that wasn’t quite an oath. “Just get over here, would you please? I didn’t know who else to call.”

She grimaced. “You must be desperate, indeed.”

“I’ll leave the gate open,” he said flatly.

A moment later, all she heard was the dial tone.

He’d hung up on her.

“I’ll leave the gate open,” she muttered, hanging up harder than necessary. Typical Linc. Issuing edicts as if he had a divine right to do so.

It would serve him right if she ignored him. She was supposed to be on vacation, after all.

But what about the child?

Jax’s child?

She huffed out a breath and left the kitchen, returning to the foyer where she’d left her boots. The artificial Christmas tree that her sister Ali bought was sitting in its enormous box, blocking half the room. None of them were thrilled with having an artificial tree instead of a fresh-cut one, but Ali’s overdeveloped sense of safety had prevailed. She was a police officer and had just dealt with a family home burning down from a tree that went up in flames. Neither Greer nor Maddie had had the heart to argue with her. They’d both promised Ali they’d help put it up this weekend.

Maddie sat down on the box, pulled on her leather boots and zipped them up to her knees.

Despite the weatherman’s dire predictions, it still hadn’t snowed yet, but the temperatures were already cold and bitter. She wrapped a scarf around her neck on top of her coat before she let herself back out into the night. Her car was parked in the driveway; both engine and interior were still warm from the drive back from Weaver.

At least she wouldn’t have to go so far to get to the old Swift mansion. It used to sit on the eastern edge of Braden, but due to progress, the town limits had been creeping past it for years. Now it was more like a crown jewel in the center of town.

When she arrived, the ornate iron gate guarding the long drive to the house was open, just as Linc had promised.

She drove through it, and memories of climbing on the thing pulled at her. The first time, Maddie’s mother had been horrified. But Ernestine—seeming old even then—had merely laughed and waved it off. How could Maddie be expected to not climb on it when her grandsons were doing the same thing?

Maddie rubbed her forehead, trying and failing to block out the images of her, Jax and Linc running around that first summer. She and Jax had been six, Linc a much older and wiser eleven.

By the time she and Jax were eleven, Meredith was no longer cleaning the mansion for Ernestine. But Maddie’s friendship with Jax—and her fascination with Linc, who’d totally lost interest in them by that point—had lived on. For a few more years, anyway. Until he’d made so very plain what he thought of her.

Her headlights swept over the stone wall that ran alongside the narrow driveway as it curved its way to the mansion sitting atop the hill.

Her mouth felt dry.

Which was just plain stupid.

The drive swelled out into a circle in front of the house before narrowing again as it continued off into the darkness. She hadn’t been out there in more than a decade, but she assumed there was still an enormous detached garage next to the gardener’s shack.

She parked in the circle and took a deep breath before getting out of the car and reluctantly climbing the brick steps. As soon as she reached the door, she could hear the wailing from inside and her gloved hand paused on the lion-shaped door knocker.

It was the distinct wail of a baby.

She started when the door opened, the door knocker yanked out of her lax fingers before she could even properly use it.

“Took you long enough,” Linc greeted her as he shoved the infant car seat he was holding into her arms.

She rapidly adjusted her hold on it when he let go and backed away. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

From the baby? Or from Maddie?

She averted her gaze, but not fast enough to keep from noticing that his disheveled blondish-brown hair showed a sprinkle of gray on the sides that hadn’t been there three years ago, and the faint lines arrowing out from the corners of his hazel eyes weren’t quite so faint anymore.

And he looked better than ever.

Dammit.

She channeled Greer’s dulcet tones again. “Good to see you, too, Linc.” She smiled insincerely and looked down at the wailing baby. A girl, if the pink blanket was anything to go by. “Where’s her mom?”

“Who the hell knows?” He shoved his long fingers through his hair. “I came home and that—” he waved at the infant seat “—was sitting all alone on the doorstep.”

She stepped inside and set the carrier on the old-fashioned table in the middle of the spacious foyer. After dumping her purse on the table, too, she delved beneath the pink blanket, relieved to feel warmth coming off the crying baby. “How long ago?”

“You’re not shocked?”

She deftly released the harness strapping the baby into the seat and picked her up. “By a baby being left somewhere or by you calling me about it?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she tried to soothe the baby. “Unfortunately, I can’t say this is my first experience with an abandoned baby. How long ago did you get home?”

He was wearing a dark blazer over a white shirt and blue jeans. Date wear.

She hated the fact that she’d even noticed. Or that she cared.

The baby was still wailing, so hard that she was hiccupping. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Maddie jiggled the baby and blindly swept her hand inside the car seat, finally finding a pacifier wedged under a corner of the fabric lining. She touched it to the baby’s lips and she latched onto it greedily.

“Silence,” Linc muttered. “Thank God.”

Maddie refrained from telling him that he could have found the pacifier, too, if he’d tried. Through the fleecy polka-dot sleeper the baby was wearing, she could feel the diaper was heavy. “So? How long ago?”

“Less than an hour ago.” Linc raked his fingers through his hair again and paced on the other side of the foyer table. “A few minutes before I called you the first time. It took three tries before you bothered to answer.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’ve done something wrong,” she said. “I was out, too. It is allowed, you know. Even for social workers.”

And those too lowly to consort with the vaunted Swift family.

She pressed her lips against the child’s temple, banishing the thought.

The baby’s forehead felt sweaty, but that could have just been from all her crying. “Is there a diaper bag or something?”

“Or something.” He set a small plastic garbage bag on the table next to the car seat.

Maddie quickly reached for it and their hands accidentally brushed. She ignored the heat that immediately ran under her skin and tipped the bag over. A half-dozen diapers and a thin container of baby wipes scattered across the table. A small can of powdered baby formula and an empty, capped baby bottle rolled out.

She grabbed a diaper and the wipes and marched around the table, heading into the house. “Go make a bottle with the formula,” she told him. “I’ll get her diaper changed, and then I’ll call my uncle.”

* * *

Linc stared after Maddie’s departing form. Her hair was as dark as it had always been, but it was longer now than she’d used to wear it, tumbling well past the bright red scarf wrapped around the collar of her short black coat. Below the coat, her hips—trim as ever—were outlined in black denim jeans tucked into her flat-heeled brown boots.

She always had liked wearing boots. Not the cowboy kind, either.

He grabbed the container of formula and the bottle. Not that he knew what to do with them. “Why do you want to call your uncle?”

“He’s a pediatrician,” she answered as if it should be obvious. She’d laid the baby on the antique bench situated against one wall of the living room. Even though the baby’s legs and arms were waving around, Maddie competently peeled back the neck-to-toe outfit, revealing a tiny white T-shirt that didn’t reach past the baby’s rosy belly and a fat-looking disposable diaper. “Poor thing is soaked.” She sent him a chastising look as she slipped a fresh diaper under the existing one.

“Save that look for the person who dumped off the kid on my front porch.”

She pulled out a wet wipe from the plastic container. “How long do you think she’d been there before you got home?”

“God only knows.” His first reaction when he’d realized what was on his porch had been to call the police. He’d had his phone in his hands when he’d spotted the note tucked next to the kid’s head.

After reading it, he’d learned that the little girl’s name was Layla and that she belonged to Jax. Supposedly. Which meant there was no way he could call the police.

And there was no way to reach Jax, either, since he’d found his brother’s cell phone sitting dead in the kitchen where Jax had forgotten it.

He’d found the phone a week ago.

But his brother had been gone longer than that.

He focused on the top of Maddie’s head while she undid the wet diaper.

He knew she still hated him. And why. But even if he’d had to do things over again, he would still choose the same path.

“I was busy all day at the office. Worked there until about seven, then went straight on to a dinner engagement.” It was as good a way as any to describe the irritating evening spent with his parents. They’d thrown a party, celebrating their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Linc might have celebrated it, too, if he didn’t know what a joke their marriage really was. If Blake Swift wasn’t cheating on Jolene, then Jolene was cheating on Blake. Except for the delight they took in making each other miserable, Linc still couldn’t understand why they remained together. He also would have accused Jax of making a getaway before the party, except Linc knew perfectly well that his brother couldn’t care less what their parents did.

“There was nobody here at the house to notice anything?”

“No.”

She’d finished diapering the baby. She kept her palm on the baby’s chest as she glanced up at him. “No?”

He frowned. Her pretty eyes were as dark as chocolate and yet the doubt in them was as clear as a spotlight. Another thing that hadn’t changed over the years. Everything going on inside Maddie’s head was broadcast through those expressive eyes. Her two sisters had the exact same eyes—the exact same looks, in fact, since they were identical triplets—but he’d never thought their emotions were as transparent as Maddie’s.

And he’d never looked at Greer or Ali and felt a slow burn inside.

“Who do you think should have been here?”

She looked back at the baby. “I figured you’d have a housekeeper or something.” She slipped the baby’s kicking legs back into her stretchy clothes. “At least she seems to have been warm enough. I don’t see any signs of frostbite. She still needs an exam, though.” She folded the used diaper and wipe into a ball, secured it with the sticky diaper tapes and held it out.

He was glad his hands were full. He lifted them—formula can in one, empty bottle in the other.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the baby, nestling her in one arm as she stood. “Kitchen still in the same place?” Not waiting for an answer, she walked past him and around the staircase.

He followed. “Where would it have gone?”

She ignored the question. When she reached the kitchen, she tossed the diaper into the trash bin located in the walk-in pantry, then returned to stop in front of him. She took the can from his fingers and set it on the wide soapstone-topped island. Then she took the bottle and before he knew it, she was holding out the baby.

Layla watched him with wide blue eyes. She was going at the pacifier as if it might actually produce milk.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Linc!” Maddie sounded exasperated. “Just take her. She won’t break.”

He wasn’t so sure. He gingerly placed his hands near Maddie’s, underneath the baby’s arms. As soon as he did, Maddie moved hers away. She went to the sink and turned on the water to wash her hands.

The baby was a lot lighter than he expected, considering how heavy she’d been when strapped inside the car seat.

She opened her mouth, the pacifier dropped out and she let out an ear-piercing wail. For such a tiny thing, she made a helluva racket.

He wasn’t a man who panicked easily, yet that was all he’d done since he’d realized there was a baby on his doorstep.

“Nope.” He pushed the kid back at Maddie. “No way.”

“Oh, for the love of Pete.” She took the baby back. “Get me the pacifier.”

It had rolled under the scrolled wooden edge of the island. He grabbed it, handing it to her.

“Wash it, would you please?” She handed him the bottle. “And this, too.”

He joined her at the sink. “Aren’t they supposed to be sterilized or something?”

“In a perfect world, probably. But who knows what other conditions this baby has endured. For now, hot water and a good wash with soap will have to do.” Without waiting for him to finish washing the pacifier and bottle, she tucked one wet finger into the baby’s mouth.

The crying stopped.

But that was the only bit of relief he got.

“Now that my hands are busy, you can make her a bottle,” Maddie ordered. “Directions are on the side of the can.”

He peered at the small print on the can. He’d left his reading glasses in his jacket and it was impossible to read.

Maddie was pacing around the island, bouncing the baby a little with each step. “How do you know for sure she’s Jax’s baby, anyway? Do you know her name?”

“Layla. And of course she’s Jax’s.”

“He told you?”

“He didn’t have to.” Glad for the excuse, he left the can on the counter and went back out to the foyer. When he returned, he had his reading glasses as well as the note. He unfolded it and spread it on the counter so she could see. “This was stuck in the car seat with her.”

Maddie pursed her lips as she studied the single line of looping handwriting. “Jaxie, please take care of Layla for me,” she read. Her eyes lifted to his for a moment. “Jaxie?”

“You know how women are with Jax.” Even Maddie had been susceptible to his brother, once. Until Linc set her straight.

“The note isn’t signed.”

He gave her a look. “Presumably, Jaxie knows who the mother of his own child is.”

“But he obviously didn’t tell you about her.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t really talk to each other a lot anymore.”

“How long has he been out of town?”

He shrugged. “Little over a week.”

“He still lives here, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. So?”

“So how can you live in the same house and not talk to each other?”

He wished he hadn’t said anything. “It’s not germane.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. Well, if it’s not germane.” She gave him a wide-eyed stare and grabbed the washed pacifier, trading it for the tip of her index finger in the baby’s mouth. Then she took the baby bottle and filled it part way with tap water, added a few scoops from the can of formula without so much as a glance at the tiny print, and screwed on the nipple. She shook the bottle vigorously and held it under running hot water. “While you’re feeding her, I’ll call my uncle and check in with my boss to let him know what’s going on. I have enough autonomy to set up the emergency placement, but Ray’s still going to want to know about it. He’s a stickler that way. But no matter where the placement ends up being, Layla still needs an exam first, particularly considering the way she was left. Just because I didn’t see any signs of injury, it’s not a medical assessment. And Uncle David’s qualified to make one, which means maybe we can avoid having to involve the hospital, too. Are you sure you don’t know who her mother might be?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have needed to call you.” He tossed his reading glasses onto the island alongside the note. “And what the hell is ‘emergency placement’ supposed to mean?”


Chapter Two (#uf078ba68-6042-5ccd-9461-528bac324d69)

Ignoring Linc’s annoyed tone, Maddie turned off the water and dried the bottle with a towel she pulled from the drawer next to the sink, all with one hand. The white cloth was clean and crisp, just like the towels that Ernestine had kept there when Maddie was a child. She wondered if Linc had changed anything at all around the house since his grandmother died.

The black-framed glasses were definitely a new addition for him, though—and an unwelcome, unexpectedly sexy one.

“Emergency placement,” she repeated smoothly. “It’s what it sounds like.” Layla’s eyes were fastened on the bottle and she wrapped her little starfish hands around it as soon as Maddie put the nipple near her lips.

The baby’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head as she guzzled the lukewarm formula. “Poor baby. You’re so hungry.” Anger threatened to boil inside her over the baby’s neglect, but she knew better than to let it get the best of her. She couldn’t be effective in her job if she let herself be consumed by anger or horror over the situations she saw.

When she looked at Linc again, his brows were pulled even closer together above his long, narrow nose.

She definitely shouldn’t take any pleasure in antagonizing him. Not under these circumstances.

“Emergency placement is a temporary measure while the authorities have a chance to investigate the whole situation,” she explained calmly. “Once that’s done, our office will make the report to the prosecutor’s office. If there are criminal charges involved, he’ll probably handle the case. If there aren’t, he’ll likely leave it in our department’s hands to make a recommendation to the judge—”

“Judge! Who said anything about a judge?”

She watched him for a moment. Linc had always been much harder to read than Jax. But the fact that he was more alarmed than ever was obvious. She just wasn’t entirely certain why. Despite the past, he’d called her to take care of the situation, and that was what she was doing. “No matter what led to Layla being left on your doorstep, this situation is going to involve the family court,” she said a little more gently. “Judge Stokes is a good guy—”

“I don’t care how good a guy he is. There’s no need for a judge. No need for your boss, for that matter.”

“If you didn’t ask me here to do my job, then what is it that you expect me to do?”

He gestured, encompassing her and the baby in his short, impatient wave. “What you’re doing. Taking care of the kid.”

“I’m not a babysitter, Linc! And this kid is an infant. Two, three months old, tops, if I had to guess.” She flicked the fingers of her free hand against the note still lying on the island. “And assuming that can be trusted, she also has a name. Layla. Aside from that, we know nothing for certain.”

“Jax—”

“Jax isn’t here. So I’ll tell you the same thing Judge Stokes is going to tell you. This child appears to have been abandoned and—”

“No.” He crossed the room in two strides and took the baby out of her arms.

The bottle fell out of Maddie’s grasp and rolled across the table. Layla’s eyes rounded and she opened her mouth to protest loudly, but he caught it before it rolled onto the floor and shoved the nipple quickly back into her mouth. The baby subsided, blissfully guzzling once again, even though Linc was essentially holding her like a football under his arm. “You’re not sticking her with a bunch of strangers.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” Layla was kicking her legs so enthusiastically, Maddie was afraid the infant would squirt out from Linc’s grasp like a wet bar of soap. “She’s going to spit up everything she drinks. Give her to me.”

“No.”

She lifted her eyebrows. She wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl who could be easily brushed off by him anymore. She’d cut her teeth in adult probation before transferring into family services. “No?”

“If you’re not going to help, then just go home.” He turned away from her, walking out of the room. Layla’s legs bounced.

Maddie followed after him, skipping twice to dart around him and block his momentum. “You don’t get it!”

He frowned down at her. “I get that you’re in my way.”

“You can’t unring the bell here. I can’t pretend you didn’t call me.” She tried to slide Layla out of his grip.

He caught one of her hands in his, holding it away.

“Linc! I have a legal obligation to rep—” She broke off when he squeezed her fingers. Not enough to hurt, but enough to express himself. His hazel eyes were hard and his jaw was so tight, it looked white.

“To do nothing,” he ground out. “She’s my niece.”

Maddie exhaled, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy that she hoped was more from exhaustion and goodwill toward his brother than because of tender feelings for Linc himself. “You think she’s your niece,” she corrected in an even tone. Based on a note that said nothing of substance.

“She was left in my care.”

“Jax’s care, actually. And you’re saying he’s out of town. Have you tried calling him? To see what he has to say about the baby?”

“He’ll be home soon.” Linc’s tone was flat.

She didn’t believe him.

“Do you even know where he is?”

His expression turned darker, his jawline whiter. “No.”

She sighed.

There was no earthly reason why she should want to help him. Yet that was exactly what she realized she was going to do. Or try to do. It would involve an end-run around her boss, but he was already going to be annoyed with her anyway, so she supposed she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.

“I’ll call Archer.” Her brother, though personally exasperating, was a well-respected attorney practicing in Braden. “He used to clerk for Judge Stokes back in the day and they have a good relationship. Hopefully good enough to cut out some of the steps and get you appointed temporary custodian right from the start.”

“Perfect.”

“He can try. It’s still a longshot,” she warned. “You’re a single man with no proof right now that this baby is your niece, so you don’t have that relationship on your side. I’m on a first-name basis with all of the individuals around this region who are qualified foster care providers, and there’s not a single, unmarried man among them. So—”

“I don’t care who or what they are. I’m not some perfect stranger! Everyone in this town knows the Swift family.”

Not necessarily a good thing. She kept the thought to herself. “Swift Oil pumps a lot of money into Wyoming,” she allowed. “But—”

“But nothing. That should at least buy me enough time with the judge so that I can prove she’s my niece!”

He wouldn’t be able to buy anything else with the judge. She had plenty of experience with Horvald Stokes. The judge cared about one thing—the well-being of a child. Period. “Without the mother here to say anything, you’ll need a DNA test to prove it.”

“Then I’ll get a freaking DNA test!” His voice rose. “How long can that take?” Layla’s face crumpled and she started crying again.

And Linc looked like he was about to lose it.

Maddie decided not to tell him that Layla would need the test, as well. And that would require the judge’s order, too. “I’ll call Archer,” she said again and this time, successfully lifted the baby out of Linc’s arms. She offered Layla the bottle, but the baby turned her fussy face away. Maddie put her against her shoulder as she walked back out to the foyer, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. What a night you’ve had, huh?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

She worked open her purse and started rummaging inside. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

As if she would ever call him sweetie.

Her fingers latched onto her cell phone and she dragged it out of her purse. “When did you start needing glasses?”

She didn’t bother dialing her brother’s home phone. There was no way he’d be home on a Friday night. Archer was the only person she knew who liked his women more than Jaxon Swift did. Instead, she dialed his cell phone and hoped that he would at least be somewhere that the signal reached. Around their area of the state, such a thing was never guaranteed.

“Why?”

She tucked the phone against her shoulder as she bounced the baby and started unwinding her winter scarf. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“I don’t need conversation. I need results.” He left the foyer.

She made a face at his departing back and finally freed the scarf. She dropped it on top of her purse and started unbuttoning her coat.

“This better be good,” Archer’s voice suddenly came on the line. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Middle of someone more like,” she said. “I need a favor.” She quickly told him the situation. “Do you mind calling the judge for me? See if he’s willing to even consider it?”

“What’s your boss say about it?”

She mentally crossed her fingers. “He said it’s my call.” As lies went, it wasn’t the worst she could tell. Under ordinary circumstances, Raymond Marx trusted Maddie’s judgment.

But she had only had a few days off in the last three years. And he’d been adamant. The rules required a minimum of two continuous weeks off every year. She was well past that. Which meant that in this instance, her boss would say she was on vacation and should hand off anything even remotely approaching a case to one of her associates for the next two weeks. Period. She was supposed to be out living her life. Having a date or two. He’d even set her up with his buddy, Morton. Because, despite being a stickler for the rules, Ray really did care about his people.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Stay by the phone,” her brother said in answer, and disconnected.

“Nothing like being surrounded by abrupt men,” she murmured. She managed to shrug out of her coat and the baby finally gave up a hard little burp.

“Attagirl.” Maddie shifted her hold on Layla and offered the bottle once more. “Pretty much my thinking, too, where they’re concerned.”

“Where who are concerned?”

Of course Linc would choose that moment to return.

She rounded the foyer table, for some reason wanting to keep it between them. “Nothing important. This looks like the same table that your grandmother had when my mother and I were here. My mom used to let me dust the base because I was always begging to help.” Until she’d learned cleaning was really a chore and not a game.

“It is the same table. No reason to change it.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek when silence fell and she had no brilliant ideas of how to fill it.

Fortunately, her cell phone rang just as she could feel a blush starting to rise in her cheeks. “It’s Archer already.” She didn’t expect such a quick response to bode well, and considering the way Linc’s lips thinned, she suspected he had the same feeling.

She managed to hold both Layla and the bottle with one hand as she pressed a key and held the phone to her ear. “Any luck?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” Archer said. She could hear music in the background. “Not surprisingly, Stokes isn’t inclined to depart from usual procedure, kiddo. File a report with the sheriff and turn the baby over to the hospital until an emergency placement can be made.”

She sighed, shaking her head slightly when Linc’s eyes captured hers. “Well, thanks for trying. I’ll get the ball rolling with the sheriff—”

“No.” Linc’s voice was adamant in her one ear, and Archer’s “Hold on, kiddo,” was cautionary in the other.

She ignored Linc for her brother. “What?”

“Being the weekend and all, Stokes suggested that you could personally take the child into protective custody until the hearing can be scheduled about Swift’s petition. If you agree, that is.”

Linc was standing still, watching her intently. She wished that he’d at least pace. Then he’d be doing something else with all that pent-up frustration besides shooting it all at her from his eyes. And maybe she’d be able to breathe more normally.

It was galling that even after all these years, just being near him made her...edgy.

Layla had drained the bottle, so Maddie set it on the table, repositioning the baby once more against her shoulder as she considered Archer’s words. The hearing had to be scheduled within forty-eight hours, excluding the weekend. “At the latest, we’re looking at midweek, then.” At which time the judge would likely order the baby be placed into shelter care while the prosecutor’s office investigated. They’d start by determining whether Layla was already reported as a missing child, and then try to locate her mother.

But to locate her, they’d need to identify her.

In the meantime, Linc would get a head start on reaching Jax. And maybe he could succeed before Ray even found out about Maddie’s involvement.

“Stokes said to call his clerk Monday morning first thing,” Archer told her. “The judge’ll make room earlier in the schedule if it’s humanly possible. It’s that or emergency foster care for the next several days,” he concluded.

“I’m aware of that.” It wasn’t as if Braden had an overabundance of qualified providers willing to take an infant on a moment’s notice. The last baby she’d had to place in emergency care ended up more than fifty miles away. If a caregiver couldn’t be found, the baby would be assigned to the hospital, which wasn’t ideal, either. For now, Maddie did have time on her hands. And she was perfectly qualified to take care of Layla for a few days, so long as she didn’t have Linc breathing down her neck the whole while.

“So? What’ll it be, Maddie? He’s waiting for me to call him back to confirm.”

Layla burped again and then turned her head against Maddie’s throat, letting out a shuddering sigh.

Maddie sighed, too. She’d always been able to keep an emotional distance when it came to children—at least professionally.

But none of the children who’d ever passed through her casework had been a relative of a friend.

Linc finally moved, but only to plant his hands flat on the foyer table while he bowed his head.

Or a former friend.

She looked away. When Ray did discover what she was doing, he would just have to understand. She might be on vacation because of him, but what she did on that vacation was entirely up to her. “Tell Judge Stokes that I agree.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it, kiddo.”

She didn’t look back at Linc. “It’ll be fine.” The trick would be to maintain her usual professionalism. Forget the past. Forget everything but the baby. “I appreciate the help. Sorry to interrupt your evening.”

“No harm. I’ll catch you Monday.”

“Thanks, Archer.” She ended the call.

“What hearing? What did you agree to?”

There was a mirror on one wall and she could see in it that Layla’s eyes were at half-mast. She also could see that Linc had lifted his head and his eyes were dark and intense.

Professionalism. She took a quick breath and turned to him. “The judge is willing to let me take Layla into protective custody. There will be a hearing scheduled by the middle of the week, at the latest, when he’ll probably order her into foster care.”

“But he could leave her in my care.”

“She’s not in your care, Linc. She’s in mine. Temporarily. What happens after that depends greatly on Judge Stokes. If he decides that placing Layla with you is in her best interests, then that’s what he’ll do.”

“But if my DNA proves she’s my niece—”

She lifted her hand. “That’s going to take at least a week. Maybe more. Until then, I’m telling you not to put all your eggs in that particular basket. Because it’s beyond unlikely that you’ll be granted temporary custody as a foster-care provider. You’re not qualified, and I know Judge Stokes. He’s never done that before. He’s not likely to do it now just because you want him to.”

His lips twisted. “You’re enjoying this.”

She had enough experience under her belt dealing with families in turmoil to keep from losing her patience.

“There is nothing enjoyable about an abandoned child, I promise you. And maybe none of it will be necessary. Maybe you’ll reach Jax. He’ll come back and offer proof that he knew nothing about this situation at all. He’ll claim her and everyone will be happy.” Maddie turned the car seat around on the table and carefully lowered Layla into it.

Linc looked alarmed. “Where are you taking her?”

“Nowhere.” Yet. “She’s falling asleep and the seat is as good a place as any.” She shook out the pink blanket and gently spread it over the baby before picking up her phone again.

“Now who are you calling?”

“My uncle.” Because that was one thing she would not neglect.

“It’s too late.”

She shook her head, already finished dialing. “He’s had late calls like this before. Uncle David! Hi.” He’d answered on the first ring. “It’s Maddie. Sorry for the late call but I have an abandoned baby—”

“She’s not abandoned,” Linc interjected.

She turned her back on him. “I don’t know how long she was left alone outside, but I didn’t see any signs of frostbite or other injury. I’m guessing somewhere between eight and twelve weeks old. But she’s in my care at least through the weekend, and you know how we’ll ultimately need a medical eval for her case—”

* * *

Unable to stand listening to Maddie’s one-sided conversation, Linc picked up the baby—car seat and all—and carried her from the foyer.

He wasn’t thrilled with the decisions being made around him. But he also knew that he didn’t have much of a choice.

He bypassed the kitchen and carried the baby into his study, where he carefully set the car seat on the floor.

He sank wearily onto the couch, staring down at the baby’s face. Her eyelids were closed, looking delicate and pink. Her lashes were soft feather fans of pale brown, much darker than the wisps of hair on her round little head.

He’d never been around babies. Never wanted to be, particularly after his wife got pregnant with someone else’s. Dana had then become his ex-wife. That had been nearly six years ago.

Layla hitched in an audible breath, which made him hold his. She sucked at her bow-shaped lips and her pink eyelids fluttered.

But she didn’t wake.

He exhaled slowly, and slid off the couch to sit on the floor next to the car seat.

“Linc?”

“In here.” He didn’t raise his voice. Maddie still must have heard, because a moment later she came into his study. She stopped when she saw him sitting on the floor.

The leather creaked as she slowly perched on the far cushion of the couch. “Are you all right?”

“They must pay you to ask.” He was certain she hadn’t asked out of friendly concern.

She didn’t answer immediately, but slid down to sit next to him on the floor, her back against the couch. The car seat was between them. “Considering I’m on vacation, technically, I’m not really getting paid for this at all.” She sounded carefully neutral.

He gave her a sideways look. “Vacation?”

“Another thing even social workers are allowed.” She stretched out her legs and fiddled with the plain watch strapped around her narrow wrist. “My boss scheduled it. Told me he didn’t want to see me in the office for the next two weeks.”

“Big fan of yours?”

She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

“If you’re on vacation, what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a chance to tell you.” She folded back the edge of the pink blanket with her slender fingers. Her fingernails were short, neat and unvarnished. “I work in family services, Linc. Vacation or not, this is what I do.”

“You could have sent someone else.”

“You called me. At my home. If I’d known any one of my associates would have done just as well, I’d have been more than happy to send someone else.” Her fingertips grazed the downy blond hair on Layla’s head. “You’re stuck with me now. At least until the hearing next week.” She drew her hands back and went onto her knees, wrapping her fingers around the carrier handle.

“What are you doing?”

“Right now, Layla is in my care. Which means where I go, she goes.” She stood, picking up the carrier. “And I’m going home. It’s been a very long day, and my uncle is going to meet me there.”

“Why not here?”

“Because we’re not staying here,” she said with exaggerated patience.

He stood, closing his hand over hers on the handle.

She froze, her expression tightening. “Linc, don’t even ask me to leave her with you.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Her gaze flicked up to his, then away.

“You could both stay here.” He realized his hand was still on hers and let go. “You know how big this place is. There’s lots of room.”

“There’s room at my house, too.”

She lived in a worn-down Victorian that she shared with her sisters. He’d driven by it more than once. His brother’s bar was nearby.

“Does it have a nursery?”

She waved her hand, taking in their surroundings. “The only thing that seems to have changed since the last time I was here is this room, and your grandmother didn’t have a nursery, either.”

“I’ve changed a few things. And she put in the nursery a few years before she died.”

Maddie gave him a surprised look, but still shook her head. “A nursery isn’t a necessity.”

“Maybe not. And there’s nothing in it but furniture, but it’s better than that.” He gestured at the car seat. “Better than that house of yours.”

“What do you know about my house?”

“It was on the condemned list when you bought it.”

“It was not!”

“Okay. Maybe not.” He waited a beat. “If Jax asked, you’d agree.”

Her lips compressed. “If Jax were here, presumably he would know who the woman was who left Layla for him and the situation would be entirely different.”

Linc’s stomach burned, worse than it had when he’d called her for help in the first place. “Please.”

She rested the car seat on the arm of the couch and her lashes swept down. She exhaled heavily. “Fine. But just because it’s already so late.” But then she sent him a skewering look. “And just for tonight.”

If he could talk her into one night, he figured his chances were pretty good of talking her into another.

But all he did was nod. “I’ll show you where the nursery is.”


Chapter Three (#uf078ba68-6042-5ccd-9461-528bac324d69)

Maddie jerked awake, staring into the dark for a second before she remembered where she was.

Under Lincoln Swift’s roof.

And Layla was crying.

She pushed the button on her sensible watch and groaned a little when it lit up with the time. It hadn’t even been two hours since her uncle had left.

Every muscle she possessed wanted her to roll over and curl up against the pillows.

But she shoved aside the blanket that she’d pulled over herself and climbed off the bed. Aside from removing her boots before lying down, she was still fully dressed.

The bedroom she was using connected directly to the nursery. Linc’s warning about furniture being the only thing the room possessed had been accurate.

The mattress inside the spectacularly beautiful wooden crib had no bedding. The drawers of the matching chest contained nothing but drawer liners. The changing table held no diapers.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it ever had.

Only the toy box held anything of note—a stuffed bear easily as big as Layla. It was dressed in overalls and cowboy boots. Even all these years after Maddie had dusted the ornate base of the foyer table, she could remember Ernestine talking about her husband, Gus. He’d died when he was still a relatively young man. No matter what sort of success the wildcatter had found before his death, though, he’d always worn overalls and cowboy boots.

One thing Maddie was used to doing, though, was improvising. She’d folded a regular bedsheet tightly around the crib mattress and Linc had produced a woven throw to use as a blanket. The pink one Layla had been left with had fallen victim to what Maddie kindly termed a “poopsplosion” while her uncle had been examining Layla. Linc had promptly turned green and produced a trash bag, seeming horrified that Maddie had been prepared to just toss the blanket in the washing machine. Instead, he’d promised to replace the blanket with a half-dozen if need be.

As for diapers and such, they had only what remained of the meager supply that had been left with Layla—also strongly depleted after the poopsplosion. Which meant Maddie was going to have to resupply. Soon. Because when it came to disposable diapers and formula, there was only so much improvising she was willing to do.

The second she picked up Layla, the baby stopped crying.

Her diaper still felt dry when Maddie checked, and she cuddled her close. “You just want a little company, or are you hungry?” She turned the light on in the empty closet, leaving the door nearly closed so a little light seeped through, then sat down on the upholstered rocking chair in the corner and stood Layla on her thighs. The baby pushed down on her feet, bouncing jerkily. “I think it is just company you want. Don’t you know that it’s two in the morning, sweetie?”

The baby babbled and grabbed two handfuls of Maddie’s hair, yanking merrily.

Maddie winced. “You need better toys than my hair,” she murmured ruefully as she tried to disentangle herself.

“I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

Startled, she looked over at the open doorway where Linc stood.

She might have gone to bed fully dressed, but Linc clearly had not. He wore only a pair of jeans. The rest of him above the waist was bare.

Gloriously bare.

She was glad for the dim light, because she was pretty sure if there’d been more, she wouldn’t have been able to hide her gawking.

It really had been too long since she’d had a decent date if she couldn’t keep from drooling over Lincoln Swift.

He stepped into the room and she quickly shifted her focus to the baby’s grip on her hair. “A few plastic things from your kitchen would do just fine.”

“Babies need stimulation. Your uncle talked about that when he was here.”

“Yes, they do. Doesn’t mean they need a bunch of fancy toys, though.” Finally freeing herself, she quickly twisted her hair behind her neck with one hand and grabbed the baby’s hands. “Oh no you don’t, missy.” She patted their hands together and Layla chortled, bouncing on her legs again. “They need love and attention. They need a safe environment and to feel secure.”

“And health care and college funds.”

She looked up at him. He’d crossed the room and was facing the oversize teddy bear.

She turned Layla around so she was sitting on Maddie’s lap. “So what’s going on between you and Jax?”

Except for the way the sinewy muscles roping over his shoulders flexed, he gave little response. “Nothing new. How do I get a DNA test done?”

Layla leaned her head back against Maddie’s chest, and she couldn’t resist rubbing her cheek against the infant’s silky hair. “The hospital in Weaver can facilitate it. I know they’ve got a sizeable backload, though.” His determination wasn’t exactly a surprise, even though it had been more than a decade since she’d come up against it. “You do expect Jax to come back, don’t you?”

Linc turned around, folding his arms across his wide chest. It only seemed to make his jeans hang even more precariously below some serious washboard abs. Maddie might be feeling her age lately, but Linc was five years older and, on him, thirty-five sat very well.

“He always comes back. He does own Magic Jax. Sooner or later, he checks in on the bar.”

“And you really have no idea where he could be?”

He shook his head, then rubbed his hand over his chin, and then down his chest.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying not to stare. “You’re going to look for him anyway. Right?”

His lips thinned. “I should have given you something to sleep in,” he said, rather than answering her question.

Which just made her wonder even more about the state of their brotherly love. “No need.” It was much too easy to imagine slipping a T-shirt of Linc’s over her head. And it wasn’t professional at all. “It’s one night. I’m fine like this.”

“Have you slept at all?”

She nodded and stood. The spacious nursery felt much too close. “I think I’ll fix Layla a small bottle. Maybe she’ll sleep afterward. You want to hold her?”

He immediately shoved his hands in his front pockets.

She averted her eyes from the fine line of dark hair running downward from the flat indent of his navel, and headed toward the doorway. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“She’s happy with you.”

She realized he was following her, and hoped that he would turn into whichever room leading off the wide hallway belonged to him.

But he didn’t. Soon, she’d reached the staircase. He flipped on a light as she grabbed the bannister and started down.

Since Maddie had first promised that she would at least stay there for the night, he hadn’t made a single attempt to hold the baby. “You realize that if you do get your way where Layla is concerned—no matter how temporary—you’re going to have to hold her. You’re going to have to change a diaper or two. And you’re not going to want to throw away every blanket just because it gets a little soiled.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Jax and I had nannies when we were little. So can Layla.”

Sure. A single, male foster father. Who hired nannies. Judge Stokes would love that.

Maddie pressed her lips together and continued down the stairs in silence.

He flipped on lights as they made their way to the kitchen. The lone baby bottle was still sitting on a clean towel next to the sink where Maddie had left it last. Before she could mix up more formula, Linc did.

She sat on one of the bar stools at the island and watched.

And wondered some more.

About Linc and Jax.

About the nursery.

About how the bare skin stretching over Linc’s shoulders would feel beneath her fingertips...

She swallowed and looked down into Layla’s wide-awake face. The baby’s fingers were again wrapped in Maddie’s hair. Linc was warming the formula by holding the bottle under the faucet and running hot water the same way she’d done it. “From what I’ve heard, Swift Oil is doing well.”

He made a sound. Agreement, she guessed. Although if Swift Oil weren’t doing well, he wouldn’t admit it. Greer would know. Her sister kept her finger far more securely on the pulse of local businesses than Maddie did.

Layla continued tugging merrily on Maddie’s hair.

She noticed a crock of cooking utensils sitting next to the enormous gas range, so she got up and pulled an oversize wooden spoon from the selection. Layla released Maddie’s hair and grabbed for it. Maddie returned to the stool, holding Layla on her lap. The wooden spoon smacked the counter and Layla jerked, gurgling. “Fun stuff, huh?”

Her eyes strayed to Lincoln’s back, roving up the long, bisecting line of his spine. She was vaguely mesmerized by the shift of muscles.

But then she realized he’d shut off the water and was turning toward her, and felt her face start to flush.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice as he handed the bottle to her. “Hope it’s warm enough.”

She shook a few drops onto her inner wrist. “It’s fine.” The sight of the bottle had tempted Layla away from her banging. She quickly abandoned the spoon to reach for the bottle. Soon, her head was tilted back against Maddie’s chest as she sighed and drank.

Something ached inside Maddie. Unless she ever met a guy who didn’t stand her up, there wasn’t any likelihood of answering that particular biological tick-tock anytime soon.

“Surprised you’re not married by now with kids of your own.”

Had he always been a mind reader?

She didn’t look at him. “Could say the same about you. I’m sure you could have found someone good enough to take the illustrious Swift name.” She shifted the baby’s weight a little, almost missing the twisted grimace that came and went on his face. “What?”

He just shook his head before opening the refrigerator. “You want something to eat? Drink? Maybe a bottle of one of Jax’s precious Belgian beers?” Linc glanced over his shoulder at her, holding up a dark bottle. “Suppose not,” he answered before she could, and stuck the beer back on the shelf. “Milk is probably still more your speed.”

She assumed that wasn’t a compliment. “I don’t need anything, thank you. And what’s wrong with milk, anyway?”

“Not a thing.” He pulled out a bottle of mineral water and let the door swing closed as he twisted off the cap. “If you’re ten years old.”

She made a face at him.

He sat down on one of the other bar stools. “Or nursing an ulcer.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“So I’ve heard.”

No doubt. He was more the type to cause them in someone else.

Despite everything, the thought felt uncharitable.

Layla’s warm little body was growing heavier as she relaxed.

The only sounds in the kitchen came from the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and Layla’s faint sighs as she worked the nipple.

Maddie swallowed. Her lips felt dry. She stared at the white veins in the dark gray soapstone counter, trying not to be so aware of him sitting only a few feet away. “Hard to believe it’s going to be Christmas soon,” she said, feeling a little desperate to say something. “The year’s gone by really fast.”

“Tends to do that the older you get.”

She snuck a glance at his solemn profile. “You sound like your grandmother.”

His lips kicked up before he lifted the green bottle to his mouth again.

“I remember the way she always decorated this place for Christmas.” When Layla’s head lolled a little, Maddie set aside the nearly empty bottle and lifted the baby to her shoulder to rub her back. Layla promptly burped and snuggled her face against Maddie’s neck. “She always had the tallest Christmas trees. Tallest I’d ever seen, at least. Up until my grandmother, Vivian, moved to Weaver a little while ago from back East.”

“We’ve met.”

Maddie blinked but then dismissed her surprise. Why wouldn’t Vivian Archer Templeton—who was Richie Rich-rich thanks to Pennsylvania steel and a bunch of wealthy dead husbands—have met the guy who ran Swift Oil? “Anyway,” she went on, “Vivian’s tree was crazy tall the same way Ernestine’s used to be. My grandmother’s was more like an untouchable art piece, though. All covered in crystal and gold. What I remember about the trees here is that they were much homier.” Popcorn garlands. Popsicle-stick ornaments. Real candy canes that Jax would sneak to school and share with Maddie and her sisters. “Her trees were like the ones my mother had. Only more than twice the size.”

“My grandmother did love Christmas,” Linc agreed. “I also think she was trying to make up for what Jax and I didn’t have at home.”

Maddie slid him a glance, surprised by the personal admission. “I must have been in junior high before I realized that you and Jax didn’t actually live here all the time with her.”

“Would have been easier if we had.” He rested his forearms on the island and slowly rotated the water bottle with his long, blunt-edged fingertips. “She always dragged us to church when we stayed here.” His hazel gaze drifted her way. “Could have done without being forced into a necktie for that.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Jax always complained about having to wear a tie, too.”

“Only good thing about going was knowing that Ernestine’s pew was across the aisle from your folks’ pew. Could watch the lot of you crammed between Meredith and Carter, wriggling and whispering and wanting to be anywhere else just as bad as me and Jax.”

For some reason, his observation unnerved her. “Church wasn’t so bad.” She still went most every week, after all. The church pew that his grandmother had always occupied was typically filled now by the mayor and his family.

She turned so that Linc would be able to see Layla’s face. “Is she still awake?”

“Her eyes are closed. Looks asleep to me.”

“Success.” She carefully slid off the barstool. “And back to bed for everyone.” She started to leave the room, but Linc didn’t make any move to follow. “G’night.”

“Night, Maddie.”

A shiver danced down her spine.

She blamed it on a draft and quickly left the kitchen.

Even when she’d reached the top of the stairs, the light was still on in the kitchen.

For all she knew, he was often awake at two in the morning.

Which didn’t matter to her one bit. Because she couldn’t stand him, after all.

She padded silently down the hall and back into the nursery. Moving at a snail’s pace lest Layla awaken, she gingerly lowered the baby back into the crib. And then she didn’t breathe for what seemed another few minutes while she waited for Layla to stir.

When the baby just continued lying there, breathing softly, arms raised next to her head, fingers lightly curled into fists, Maddie finally exhaled. She leaned over the edge of the crib and gently covered Layla with the woven throw.

“Shoot for daylight next time,” she whispered, before straightening and crossing to the closet to turn off the light.

Then she returned to her bedroom. There, she stretched out on the bed once more and pulled the blanket across herself.

As tired as she was, though, all she did was stare into the dark.

Not thinking about her old friend Jax, and where he might be, or when he might return. And whether or not he really was Layla’s father.

No. All she could think about was Linc.

And that dang shiver she’d felt when he’d said her name.

* * *

Both the females under his roof were still sleeping.

Linc finished silently closing the wooden blinds hanging in the window of the nursery. When the morning light was no longer shining through, he crossed the room, hesitating at the doorway into the adjoining room, even though he’d been determined not to.

He’d already glanced through the opening once.

Just long enough to see Maddie’s long dark hair strewn across a white pillow.

An image that was going to be hell on him until he could banish it from his memory.

If he could banish it.

It didn’t even matter that beneath the blanket, Maddie was fully dressed. The sight was still more tempting than any he’d seen in too long a time.

And, if she woke up and turned over, seeing him standing in the doorway leering at her, she’d grab up Layla and be out of there in a flash.

It was only that very real possibility that finally made him move away and leave the nursery altogether.

He didn’t return to his own suite at the far end of the hall. He’d already showered and dressed for the day. He’d done it in record time, half expecting to hear Layla wailing at any moment.

But all had been peaceful in the nursery.

It was just inside his own head that everything was turbulent.

He usually spent most of his time at the office, even on the weekends. Swift Oil hadn’t been the three-man operation Gus Swift had founded for a very long time. The company Linc had been entrusted with was now one of the major employers in the state. Certainly the major employer in Braden. The only company in the region rivaling his in terms of employment was Cee-Vid, located in Weaver. But not even Cee-Vid had the history of Swift Oil. The tech company hadn’t been so much as a glimmer of thought when Gus Swift had first started out wildcatting with his father in the early 1900s.

When Linc wasn’t working at the office, he was out working in the field. There was always something that needed doing, and when there wasn’t, it meant there was something that needed undoing.

Something almost always caused by his and Jax’s father, Blake. Blake, who was either diving into yet another inappropriate relationship, or planning another scheme guaranteed to cause Linc’s ulcer to flare.

But that morning, the last thing on Linc’s mind was the company. For the moment, anyway, Swift Oil was safe enough.

So instead of heading there, he went downstairs and into his home office. He’d plugged in his brother’s dead cell phone the night before and when he picked it up and turned it on, he was rewarded by the familiar buzz that he got from his own phone.

But that was as far as he could go.

Because he didn’t know his brother’s password.

Knowing Jax, it could be anything from the name of his first girlfriend to the stock number of his favorite beer.

He sat down behind his desk, studying the cell phone screen. It bore a picture of a sailboat with a leggy blonde sunbathing on its deck.

Linc didn’t know if the photo was some stock thing or from one of Jax’s frequent escapades. For all Linc knew, the blonde could be Layla’s mother. Though, admittedly, she didn’t look to be in the family way. Even in the small picture, the minuscule bikini left nothing to the imagination.

He drummed the side of the phone a few times with his thumb. Then he abruptly swiped the screen and typed in “Maddie.”

“Incorrect Password” flashed back at him before the sailboat returned to view.

He almost wished the attempt had been correct. He figured he could deal with his brother still carrying a torch for his high school girlfriend if it meant that Linc gained access to whatever secrets the phone might hold about Jax’s present whereabouts. It wasn’t as if Maddie was still likely to fall for Jax’s charms. She was an adult now. Not a teenager who’d been too pretty, too softhearted and way too innocent for her own good.

Once upon a time he’d thought the same of Dana. And look where that had ended.

He quickly typed in “Dana.”

The sailboat remained.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

It ought to be too early for a headache.

“Linc?”

He dropped his hand and looked over to see Maddie standing barefoot in the doorway. Her hair was messy around her shoulders and her chocolate-colored eyes were dark and drowsy.

He couldn’t stop the heat streaking through him any more now than he’d been able to when she’d still been a teenager and too damn young for him.

And it annoyed the hell out of him.

Jax may have slept with Dana. But Linc wasn’t going to return the favor by poaching Maddie, no matter how attractive he found her. She wasn’t too young for him now, but he still considered her off-limits. Not because of Jax. But because she was a decent woman. And the last woman who’d gotten involved with the Swifts and remained decent had been his grandmother.

His “What?” was more a bark than a question and her soft, drowsy eyes went cool.

She tugged down her sleeves. “I wanted to let you know that we’ll be leaving now.”

If his what had been terse, his “No!” was a flat-out command.

She lifted her eyebrows, unperturbed. “I’ll let you know when the hearing is scheduled with Judge Stokes.” She turned on her heel and disappeared from view.

He shoved away from his desk and went after her.

For a woman short enough to fit in his pocket, she moved fast, marching halfway up the stairs before he caught her arm. “Wait.”

She looked pointedly at his hand on her arm and he released her. The second he did, she went up two more steps.

He caught her arm again. And this time, ignored her pointed glare. “I said, wait.”

“So?” She yanked her arm free. “I’m not one of your oil minions, Lincoln. Layla needs diapers and formula. And I have things to do.” She started to turn again, but stopped. “And don’t suggest that I leave her here while I go and do them.”

That had been the last thing on his mind.

He didn’t want to let Layla out of his sight, but he still didn’t welcome any notion that he’d have to take care of her himself. Not when the only thing he knew about caring for her had so far been learned from watching Maddie during the past eight hours.

“I’ll pay you.”

Her expression went from annoyance to fury to disgust. All in the blink of an eye. “Stooping to bribery isn’t going to win any points, Linc.”

Bribery? He nearly choked on the word. “I’m not bribing. I’m just willing to pay for your time. Why not? I pay for everyone else’s.”

“Well, not mine!” Her voice rose and her arms went out. “Get it through your head, Linc. For the next few days at least, Layla is under my care, by order of Judge Stokes. You started all of this by calling me in the first place. Now I’m going to do my job, whether you like it or not. The only thing you need to focus on is finding Jax!”

“I don’t want you taking her out of the house.”

“You’re not calling the shots this time, so that’s just too darn bad.” She stomped up the rest of the stairs.

He followed her into the nursery where she scooped a very awake Layla out of the crib. “If you take her, I’m afraid you won’t bring her back.”

The admission didn’t even make her hesitate. “You still keep talking as if I have some choice in the matter. Layla’s immediate future is going to be determined by Judge Stokes.” She carried Layla into the adjoining room. The bed looked pristine, as if Maddie’s long thick hair had never spread across the white pillows at all.

“Even if I find Jax?”

“Even if you find Layla’s mom!” She seemed to realize she couldn’t put on her boots and hold the baby at the same time, but rather than try to hand the infant to him, she just set her in the middle of the bed before yanking on her socks. “I knew from the get-go that this was no safe-haven situation. Layla isn’t a newborn, but even if she were, there would still have been protocols to follow when surrendering her. Appropriate places authorized to take a baby under those circumstances.” She zipped her boots over her narrow jeans, right up to her knees. “Layla’s too old. You heard my uncle. Considering her motor control and size, she’s more likely three months than two. Parents don’t get to just abandon their children on doorsteps without having some sort of reprisal. Layla’s mother could walk in your front door right this minute and she wouldn’t be allowed to bundle her up and truck on home with her! Even if she weren’t guilty of abandonment, she is certainly guilty of neglect!”

“I don’t give a damn about Layla’s mother. As you’re so fond of reminding me, she left her own baby on a freaking doorstep!”

Layla, apparently tired of their raised voices, got into the act, too, adding her own high-pitched wail.

Maddie gave him a now-look-what-you-did glare and scooped up the infant. “Like I said. She needs diapers and formula. So if you wouldn’t mind moving out of our way, I’ll go take care of those little requirements.”

“I’ll get you all the diapers and the formula you need. Just stay.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re free to buy whatever the heck you want, Linc. But I’m not staying. And I’m taking Layla with me. If you don’t find Jax before the hearing, I can tell Judge Stokes that you’ve been helpful and supportive where the baby’s welfare is concerned.” She gave him a chilly, steady stare. “Or not.”

So much for softhearted.

“Is this your version of hardball, Maddie?”

“Call it whatever you want.” She didn’t seem the least bit fazed as she brushed past him, carrying the baby in one arm and the car seat in the other. “It’s the truth. You’ll learn what everyone else learns sooner or later—don’t piss off a social worker. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve achieved. We can be your best friend. And we can be your worst enemy.”

He followed her back to the stairs. “You walked in the door last night already thinking of me as the enemy. You’re still holding a grudge because I told you to stay away from Jax all those years ago.”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Linc. I don’t think of you as the enemy. In fact, I really don’t think of you at all.”


Chapter Four (#uf078ba68-6042-5ccd-9461-528bac324d69)

“No.” Ali was staring at her.

“You actually said that to him?” Greer was staring, too.

They were all sitting at the table in their eyesore of a kitchen. Layla—dressed in a diaper and nothing else—was lying on a blanket inside the portable play yard that Maddie had initially bought as a Christmas gift for her expectant sister and brother-in-law. The baby didn’t need any clothes besides her diaper for the simple reason that the furnace in their house wouldn’t shut off.

As a result, even though it was about thirty degrees outdoors, they were all dressed down to summer-weight clothes as befitted the overly toasty ninety degrees inside. Ali was even wearing a bikini top with her cutoff denim shorts.

“What else should I have said to him?” Maddie knew she sounded defensive, but couldn’t help it. “Just because Lincoln Swift runs Swift Oil doesn’t mean he runs everything else. He doesn’t need to think he can run me.”

“Don’t you think you might be overreacting a little?”

Maddie glared at Greer. “Whose side are you on?”

Her sister lifted her hands peaceably. “Whose side are you on?”

“Layla’s, obviously.” She leaned over the side of the play yard and tickled the baby’s tummy. Layla squealed and rolled partway onto her side, playing with her feet. “Who could leave such a darling like you that way?”

“Someone who was pretty desperate.” Greer sipped her orange juice. She’d been working on case files when Maddie arrived, and a pencil was skewered through her hair, holding it off her perspiring neck.





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