Someone's Baby

“Forget it. Let me die in peace.”

“You aren’t gonna die.”

“I am if you keep helping me.”

His lips twitched. Her voice might be weak, but she had spunk. Her grit came as a complete surprise. He’d expected buckets of tears. She had to be in considerable pain.

“It was an antibacterial cream.”

“I know what it was and my shoulder hurts like the devil. Will you just take me to a doctor?”

“I’d love to, but we have a problem.”

Her tired eyes opened again. “What problem?”

“Someone stole my truck.”

“What are you talking about? Where are we?”

“We’re at a line shack on my ranch.”

“Well, call someone!”

“Happy to oblige, but the radio is in the truck.”

“Then use your cell phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a cell phone these days.”

Cade shook his head. “I’m not real fond of modern technology.”

“Yeah. I could tell from your archaic idea of medicine. What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ to put a butterfly bandage over the bullet hole. And it would be a whole lot easier if you’d hold still and cooperate.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Offended, he pursed his lips. Ungrateful little witch. “Well, get over it. Right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

She glared at him, but held still while he applied the bandages and began to wrap her shoulder. Suddenly, her eyes grew wide.

“You took off my blouse!”

Embarrassed, he didn’t meet her eyes. “Tough to tend your wound with it on. I had to cut the strap off your bra as well.”

“You didn’t,” she gasped.

“’Fraid so, but you can’t wear it over that shoulder anyhow. And your blouse won’t be good for much even after I wash it out. Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

“You’re gay?”

Indignant, he glared at her. “Of course not!”

“Then why should I believe I’m safe with you?”

“Because my taste doesn’t run to mouthy juveniles with tiny babies and a gun-toting husband,” he snapped in reply. “I take it he was the one who shot you?”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but she swallowed back what she started to say and looked at him strangely. “Who are you?”

“Cade McGovern. Who are you?”

“Jayne.”

He waited but she didn’t offer a last name. The baby stirred behind him as he finished wrapping the tape around her shoulder.

“Well, Jayne. I hope you’re prepared to breast-feed because your daughter will soon polish off those bottles you were traveling with and I don’t imagine powdered milk is going to make a good substitute.”

Chapter Three

Jayne thought frantically past the pain in her shoulder. This sexy man with the incredible voice thought she was the mother of the baby. She hadn’t even known it was a girl.

Caution curbed her first impulse to tell him everything. She didn’t know him or anything about him. But watching him with the infant had brought a lump to her throat. For such a large man, he handled the tiny baby with a gentle touch. He hadn’t seemed awkward, just a bit unsure which endeared him to her. He was obviously a good person.

Though he’d hurt her, he’d been nothing but kind trying to fix her shoulder. It was probably insane, but she trusted him. The only problem was, the kidnappers had already proved they would stop at nothing. Was it fair to involve him any further in this mess?

“Who stole your truck?”

His eyes darkened and a hardness set in around his mouth. “Good question. I don’t like any of the answers including the possibility that your husband may be outside right now with my rifle trying to figure out the best way to get in here and finish the job he started.”

Fear returned with a vengeance. In her mind, she clearly pictured the man standing in the parking lot aiming the gun at the car she stole.

“You think he followed us here?” She swallowed past her dry throat.

“It’s not a possibility I’m willing to rule out.”

“We’ve got to get out of here!”

She tried to sit up but he held her in place easily with one hand. She was so weak the effort nearly drained her and the motion jarred her shoulder alarmingly. She could have wept from the searing pain.

“We’ve got no place to go,” he said soothingly.

“But—”

“I’m not completely unarmed,” he told her. The flick of his hand sent her eyes to his waistband where the handle of a gun protruded. “He’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

That braked the fear and reached into her muddled mind with a whole host of confusing sentiments. He was going to protect her?