The Baby Trail

The Baby Trail
Karen Rose Smith

IN THE COLD WYOMING NIGHT, THREE HEARTS WERE WAITING TO BE FOUND…Gwen Langworthy had been abandoned as a child then left at the altar. She had given up on love and marriage and the entire baby-carriage thing.Garrett Maxwell had lost his child and his marriage and now he spent his life reuniting other families.And somewhere a down-on-her-luck new mother was longing for the baby she had been too frightened to keep–and had left on Gwen' s doorstep.Three people lost in the world…and one baby to bring them all home again.

What had almost happened between her and Garrett yesterday? Had it been an almost kiss? If so, she had pulled away from it, hadn’t she?

Gwen gave herself a mental shake and told herself to slow down. She didn’t get infatuated with men, she reminded herself. She was picky, and a rugged face with a good body might turn her head, but it didn’t stay turned. She wanted substance.

You thought you had substance with Mark, a little voice reminded her.

She’d been so wrong about that. She’d been so wrong about a lot of things. But she was working on fixing them.

And then she opened the door to Garrett—and common sense flew out the proverbial window. She was attracted to him, plain and simple. She would have to watch every step she made….

Dear Reader,

I can’t imagine going through life without true friends. My best friend from grade school and I have kept in touch all these years. As I remember high school, I picture the group of girls I had lunch with, talked about boys with and studied with. We supported each other’s dreams. My college roommate and I have celebrated New Year’s Eve together for the past thirty years. Then there’s my husband: my very best friend. He believes he knows what I’m thinking and usually he does. But once in a while, I still surprise him!

In The Baby Trail, Gwen has relied on her friends all her life. When Garrett enters her world, she realizes she needs her friends as much as ever. Yet she discovers her attraction and deepening love for Garrett lead to a soul-mate friendship she never expected to find.

I wish my readers friendships of all kinds that last a lifetime.

All my best,

Karen Rose Smith

The Baby Trail

Karen Rose Smith

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

KAREN ROSE SMITH

read Zane Grey when she was in grade school and loved his books. She also had a crush on Roy Rogers and especially his palomino, Trigger! Around horses as a child, she found them fascinating and intuitive. This series of books set in Wyoming sprang from childhood wishes and adult dreams. When an acquaintance adopted two of the wild mustangs from the western rangelands and invited Karen to visit them, plotlines weren’t far behind. For more background on the books in the series, stop by Karen’s Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com or write to her at P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.

In loving memory of my mom and dad—

Romaine Arcuri Cacciola and Angelo Jacob Cacciola.

I’m so grateful for your love and care as parents.

I miss you.

To my husband, Steve—

it was a trip of a lifetime I could only have taken and

appreciated with you. I’ll never forget our first sighting of

the wild mustangs in the Big Horns.

To my son, Ken—May your dreams always run free.

Thanks to my cousin Paul Arcuri, pilot and

my advisor on all things aeronautic.

For more information about wild mustangs,

visit www.wildhorsepreservation.com. For adoption

information go to www.wildhorseandburro.blm.gov.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

A baby’s cry tore through Gwen Langworthy’s small house. It only took a moment for her to realize the sound was coming from her sunroom!

Dusk had fallen and shadows were thick in the ranch-style house as she raced from the kitchen through the living room. As an obstetrical nurse practitioner, she was well aware of babies’ cries. They always ripped a corner of her heart. She longed to have a baby of her own.

The first cry whimpered into a second as she reached for the ceramic light on the wicker table inside the sunroom and saw a blue plastic bin sitting just inside her sliding glass doors. Rushing to it, she hunkered down. An infant with sparkling dark eyes, who couldn’t be more than a day or two old, stared up at her. Layers of newspaper lined the inside of the bin, but the baby was nestled in a pink blanket. A torn sheet of notebook paper lay at her feet with “Amy” written in block letters.