The Cowboy Seal's Christmas Baby

Jane glanced up to find Gideon now in front of her.

“You don’t look so hot.” He reached out, almost as if he’d intended to touch her arm, but then changed his mind. “Are you tired? Or did you remember something?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe both.” She trudged a few feet farther to a flat boulder, backing onto it.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He removed both of his loads, then sat beside her. After digging through the nearest pack for a canteen, he unscrewed the lid, offering it to her.

“Thanks.” She drank deeply, resisting the urge to lean against him for physical and emotional support. He was a stranger, yet at this moment, she knew him better than she knew herself. “I just had the strangest sensation—not really a memory, but a gut-deep feeling that someone in my life wouldn’t approve of me taking a break.”

“Your husband?”

She glanced at her ring-free left hand. “I-I don’t think so. Maybe my father?” She passed Gideon the canteen.

“If you feel I’m pushing you too hard, we can stop here for the night. I was hoping to make it farther—to a creek where we can replenish our water supplies. But if—”

“I’m okay,” she promised. “Just needed to catch my breath.”

“How’s the little guy?” He nodded toward the baby. He’d again started to reach out, but as earlier, she got the impression that Gideon didn’t want to touch. Why? Was he afraid of overstepping personal boundaries? Or getting too close? Given the fact that in a day or two they’d never see each other again, it was unlikely they’d ever be more than casual acquaintances. A good thing, considering her tenuous grasp on reality.

“He’s great. Sleeps a lot. But I guess that’s to be expected?”

“No clue.” Gideon toyed with the canteen lid. “Babies aren’t my thing.”

“What do you do? I’ve been so caught up in my own mystery that I hardly know anything about you.”

“Not much to know.” He took another swig of water, then offered it to her.

“Tell me about the horse that ran off. Do you think he’s all warm and cozy back in your barn?” She drank deeply. It felt odd—the intimacy of their lips touching the same vessel.

“Hard to say. And he is a she.” Gideon shared the horse’s heartbreaking story.

After hearing about what the poor creature had been through, Jane said, “We have to find her.”

“Let’s get you and the baby to a hospital first. Odds are, she is back at my place. If not, I’ll come back out as soon as you two are safe.”

“But—”

“Not up for debate.” When Jane again tried speaking, he held out his hand to stop her. The gesture royally ticked her off. As if another man in her life had a nasty habit of shushing her.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” He was rummaging through his pack.

“Shut me up. I’ll say my mind whenever I see fit.” Her raised voice woke the baby.

Her son showed his displeasure with a series of fitful cries.

“Don’t blame me for that.” Eyeing the infant, Gideon raised his hands in the universal sign of not guilty. “All I was trying to do was impress upon you the urgency of getting you and your son back to civilization. This time of year, snowfalls are epic, and we’re way past due for a big one. Hopefully, the horse can fend for herself.”

Jane jiggled her son, but that only made him cry louder. “Do you think he’s hungry?”

“How would I know?”

“You seem to know everything else,” she snapped.

He sighed. “I’ll give you privacy. Why don’t you...” He gestured toward her chest.

“Feed my son? With my breasts? Are you twelve?”

“What happened to perky Jane? I liked her way better than snarky Jane.”

Jane rolled her gaze skyward. “I liked you better before you were so bossy.”

The baby wailed.

“I’m out of here to look for signs of the horse, but I’ll stay within earshot. Holler when you’re done and we’ll go together to the stream, then set up camp for the night.”

“Aye-aye, Captain Bossy.”

When he turned his back, Jane stuck out her tongue.

While she was by no means an expert on infant care, thankfully, breastfeeding was coming naturally to her and her sweet little Chip.

With him feeding, Jane arched her neck back, drinking in warm sun. All of this was so strange. Part of her felt wholly at ease in the forest. Another part warred with the notion that beyond a few hunches about who she was, and what sort of lifestyle she preferred, the truth was that where her memories should be now yawned a frightening black hole.

She knew she preferred Gideon’s sweeter side as opposed to this new grouch. And she also knew that given her aversion to his demanding tone, she was now apprehensive about what secrets her former life may hold. Could she have been on the run from someone abusive? Or just a bad breakup from her baby’s father?

She may not know much, but she somehow knew she didn’t love Chip’s dad.

But what if I’m still married to him?

As much as she wanted to fill in the missing pieces of her life, another part of her was afraid. What if she didn’t like the woman she turned out to be?

The question made her pulse race uncomfortably fast.

So much so that the logical choice for her immediate future seemed to be remaining with a grumpy cowboy. What was that old saying about it being better to be with the devil you knew? Not that Gideon was in any way mean or cruel, but given his current frame of mind he could hardly be considered warm and fuzzy.

Tears stung her eyes, but she swiped them away.

She needed to be strong.

Not just for the baby, but herself. This was no time for a breakdown. Whatever had led her to run into this forest, she feared she’d need all her strength to face it.

A twig snapped.

She darted her gaze in that general direction. “What was that?” she asked her son. “Probably a squirrel, right?”

He stared up at her with enormous baby blues.

“But it sounded bigger. What do you think?”

There was another twig snap. A low huff.

Jane froze. “Maybe it’s Gideon’s missing horse?” Standing, holding her son close while he finished brunch, she called, “Jelly Bean, sweetie? Is that you?”

A low growl came from the camp’s edge.

Not thinking, just doing, Jane screamed, “Gideon!”

* * *

GIDEON HEARD JANE’S cry and abandoned the track he’d been following to run toward her and the baby.

“Jane?” he called. “Hang tight! I’m coming!”

After damn near breaking his neck while charging through thick underbrush, Gideon finally reached the trail, then poured on extra speed to reach the boulder where he’d left her.

Pebbles skittered after him on a steep downhill section.

He rounded a corner to find her standing with her zippered jacket hanging open and full breasts exposed save for the parts covered by her still-nursing son.

As fast as he’d been running, Gideon now screeched to a full stop, politely averting his gaze.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” she said as if she wasn’t standing there half-naked. “There’s a monster growling—just over there.” She pointed to the dense woods behind them. “I thought it was Jelly Bean, but then whatever it was turned bloodthirsty.”

“Bloodthirsty?” He nodded. “Guess it could have been a mountain lion, but they’re usually fairly skittish, and aren’t known for making warning noises before they eat you.” He winked, then realized her condition. “Would you, ah, mind fastening that up?”

A glance down left her cheeks reddening while she fumbled to hold her now-sleeping son and fasten her front-latching sports bra. Turns out it couldn’t be done, so she returned to her rock seat, setting her son alongside her. Once she’d closed the “mess hall,” she looked Gideon’s way.

He’d meant to turn his back to her, but hadn’t quite managed. He’d intended to offer to hold her son for her, too, but the words refused to leave his mouth. So there he stood. Frozen. Like a big, dumb rock.

Above her, a squirrel chattered.

“Apparently,” she said, “he’s bothered by the sight of a little skin, too?”

“I’m not bothered,” Gideon said, “just figured you might be cold.” He averted his gaze. “Are you decent?”

“I was decent before, but if you mean fully clothed—yes.”

“Sorry.” He sighed, then found the wherewithal to once again meet her gaze. “Your scream got me spooked. Then I showed up and you were—well, barely dressed.”

“Because I was feeding my baby.”

“Yeah, I know that now. Give me a minute, okay? It’s not an everyday thing around here for me to find pregnant ladies on my trail.”

“I’m not pregnant anymore,” she sassed.

“By God, you are a handful.” He raked his fingers through his shaggy hair.

“Sorry, I’m not sorry?” Now she winked.

Gideon busted out laughing.

And then she was laughing.

The racket startled her baby awake, but then she was smiling down at him, and rocking him, and crooning soft words to coax him back to sleep.

Something inside Gideon shifted.

Instead of viewing the two of them as enemies hell-bent on destroying his carefully structured life, he recognized them as something far more menacing—enjoyable. They represented a welcome change. A bright spot of hope in the dark fog that had become his world.

But there was danger in that hope, because just as soon as he returned Jane to the real world, her family would claim her. Her husband would claim her. And just like that, Gideon would be in the dark again.

The funny thing was, he’d been there so long, he’d almost convinced himself he liked it. But then this spitfire had come along, changing everything.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?” she asked.

“You.” He hadn’t meant to tell the truth, but it had slipped out.

“Is that good or bad?”

In keeping with his truthful scheme, he said, “A little of both. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She hugged her baby close, kissing the crown of his head. He’d seen her perform the maternal move at least a dozen times, yet it never failed to stir him. He could deny it all he wanted, but he realized he wasn’t mad at his wife for stealing the joy of becoming a father from him. He was mad at himself.

He waved off her question. “It’s way too deep to go into now. We’re strangers. I’ll try being nicer and leave it at that.”

Eyes narrowed, she cocked her head. “Sometimes strangers are best for making confessions. The beauty of them is that you get to unload, and then never see the person again.”

“True. But then your juicy secret is out there, just waiting to hit tabloids and TMZ.”

“Interesting...” Gaze narrowed, she said, “I wouldn’t have taken you for the TMZ type.”

“I’m not.” He sat beside her to dig into his saddle bag. “But a few of the younger guys I served with never stopped yapping about Hollywood crap.”

“You’re a veteran?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out two protein bars and handed her one.

“Which branch?”

“Navy. Has anyone in your family serv—”

Her complexion paled.

“Sorry.” Gideon gave himself a mental kick. Dumbass. If she couldn’t remember her own name, how was she supposed to remember a family member’s service records?

“No worries.” She ran her thumb over the protein bar’s label. “Chocolate chip. Did I mention that while we were hiking, that’s what I decided to name my son?”

“Chocolate Chip? Cute.” Gideon bit into his bar and chewed. “Don’t think I’ve ever met one.”

“You have now. Chip for everyday. Chocolate for holidays and special occasions.” She smiled.

He smiled.

It was all very civilized, but underneath these newfound manners ran a tension Gideon couldn’t quite get a read on.

They sat in silence long enough for the songs of nature to feel noisy in Gideon’s head. Wind in the pines. A cawing crow. He wanted to say so much to Jane, but wasn’t sure how—or even why. The sensation was as unnerving as it was unwelcome.

“Ready to get going?” he asked. “I’d like to make the stream in a few hours, then set up camp well before nightfall.”

“Sure.” She wadded up her bar’s wrapper, tucking it into a pocket of her pack.

He liked that she hadn’t littered. He liked her green eyes that reminded him of new grass in the spring. He liked her laugh and the way she doted on her son.

He did not like the way she’d unwittingly taken over his life.

Which was why, once they’d gotten back under way, he set the pace faster than he probably should, because he had to escape not only Jane, but the biting pain of what it felt like to be connected to another person. And to know with absolute certainty that he’d never see her again.

* * *

IT TOOK HOURS to reach the gurgling stream beside which Gideon was now assembling Jane’s tent.

She sat on a fallen log, nursing her son, appreciating the unseasonably warm late-afternoon sun. It was almost as hard to predict Arizona weather as it was Gideon’s moods.

At one point during their death march out of these woods, he’d seemed downright chivalrous, waiting for her to catch up. He’d almost held her hand over an especially rocky part of the trail. But at the last moment—as if remembering girls have cooties—he’d changed his mind.

Her stomach growled.

“Gideon!”

“Yeah?”

“Mind if I have another one of your protein bars?”

“Go for it.”

“Thanks.” Midway through the day, he’d removed his coat. She had spent hours staring at the back of his green T-shirt. How had it escaped her that his shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and his derriere... Oh my.

Might her former self have giggled at such an observation? The fact that she didn’t know soured her stomach.

He cursed at her tent. “This thing was clearly designed for yuppies.”

“I’m not a yuppie.” She bristled more at his tone than the label. She honestly wasn’t even sure what being a yuppie entailed.

“But that’s the thing.” He straightened. “You don’t know. Your gear shows that you have a more than average knowledge of backpacking. Almost as if you were in training for, I don’t know? Something big—like the Pacific Crest Trail.”

Free hand on her hip, she cocked her head. “Me? Hiking from Mexico to Canada? Yeah. I suppose that’s possible. But if that was the case, what am I doing in Arizona?”

“I just said you could be in training. The trail we’re on is a notorious killer.”

“Good to know.”

“Have you been all through your backpack? Are you sure there’s nothing we could use for a clue? How could you not have at least had a credit card or ID?”

“No clue. Maybe it fell? Or I was in such a hurry to get started I left it in the car? When we stopped by that mushroom patch, I had to dig deep for the paper towels. I didn’t see a single useful item in regard to discovering my identity.”

“No worries. We’ll figure it out. In fact, once we get you to a hospital to get checked, I’m sure the place will be crawling with your family.”

“Hope so...” Tears stung her eyes, but she swiped them away. This was no time for a breakdown. Whatever issue had led her to run into this forest, she feared she’d need all her strength to face.

With Chip fed, she got herself zipped up, settled him on a soft grassy patch, then dived into Gideon’s saddlebags for the protein bar.

She easily found it, but she’d also stumbled across a laminated photo she had a feeling Gideon would never want her to see. It had to have been taken at his wedding. He wore Navy dress whites, and the woman’s full-skirted gown seemed too fancy for the casual beach setting. His look of adoration for his bride made Jane’s stomach tighten.

Was this the woman who had broken him?

Of course, there were always two sides to every story, but what part had he played in their marriage’s collapse?

“Mind helping me out with the center pole? I don’t know how the hell you got this assembled while in labor. It’s like freakin’ origami.”

She tucked the photo back in the saddlebag, then went to help. “You have to work it through. You can’t just shove it. The whole process needs finesse.”

“Words to live by.”

It took her a minute, but then she caught his grin and blushed. “You know what I mean. Here, let me show you.”

“Do I need to cover Chip’s tender eyes?”

“Stop.” She brushed past him to grab hold of the channel the tent pole needed to be worked through. Now that she had an audience, the motion did feel less than wholesome in a comical way.

When Gideon stepped in to help, Jane fought to ignore the tingly awareness stemming from his faintest contact. He reached over her, raising the nylon channel for her to feed the pole through. The action was simple, so why did her every move strike her as beyond complicated? The heat of his chest radiated against her backside, and when his forearms accidentally grazed the sides of her overly sensitive breasts, she bit her lip to keep from begging for more.

Insanity! That’s what this was.

Her brain got the message, but her body refused to listen.

Ten minutes later, she stood side by side with Gideon while surveying their work.

“We have a home,” he said of their blue abode.

Home. An interesting choice of wording given their situation. She felt the same vibe—at least in the moment. The setting with its gurgling stream and sunny glade surrounded by towering ponderosa pines was idyllic. The stuff of fairy tales. Only by all logical standards, her current situation more closely resembled a nightmare.

Only...it didn’t.

Now that Gideon had mellowed, and her son seemed healthy and content, and she was immersed in a postcard-worthy setting, her current lot in life no longer seemed all bad.

“What’s causing that smile?” Gideon asked.

“Oddly enough, the fact that this trek has suddenly turned kinda fun.” She smiled.

“You won’t be thinking that when this clear sky causes nighttime temps to dip into the twenties.”

“That’s why Chip and I have you—to build us a nice, toasty fire.”

“True...” He returned her smile, warming her from the inside out. “But please remember that my whole rescuer gig is only temporary. As soon as we hit civilization, you and your little chipmunk will be history.”

His comment should have brought her comfort, but all it really did was make her feel like crying.

Chapter Five

“Aw, why are you crying?” Gideon supposed the decent thing to do would be to draw Jane into a nice big hug. But while they’d had fun joking around while assembling the tent, that didn’t mean they were best buddies or that he’d ever again be decent. What went down in Iraq had fundamentally changed him to the point that he was no longer a nice man. Missy, his wife, had told him every chance she’d gotten before she’d left him.

Then she’d died.

Her words had stuck to his skin like a shirt with static cling.

Jane said, “Y-you have this way of making me feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster. One minute, we’re laughing and everything’s chill. The next, you look at me and Chip as if we’re your mortal enemies. My gut tells me you’re a great guy, but your mean mouth is telling a different story.”

“Damn, woman...” Summoning a half smile, he pressed his hand over his heart. “I’ve had gunshot wounds hurt less.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about—and why are you carrying around a wedding photo? Sorry—I saw it by accident, but it doesn’t fit with the man I’ve come to know.”

“Look...” Needing a barrier between them, he crossed his arms and took a defensive step back. “I keep that pic to remind me I’m never again taking that route. As for what’s going down between us? I’m trying to be a stand-up guy. I promised to get you and your son safely to a hospital and I will, but beyond that?” He shrugged.

“I stupidly thought we were friends.”

“We’re acquaintances. Nothing more. Psychologically, I’m guessing you’re placing importance on our relationship, because at the moment, aside from your infant son, I’m literally all you have.” He softened his voice. “That won’t last forever. In fact, there are probably search parties out looking for you right now.”

“Think so?”

He nodded.

She looked so utterly lost, so confused and alone and beaten, that he broke his every rule to extend his arms to her for a quick hug. When she stepped into his embrace, crying so hard that tears wet through his T-shirt, there was nothing he could do but hold her. Which hurt him. Every second she sobbed against his chest equated to weeks—hell, maybe months—it would take him to rebuild his carefully constructed walls.

How long had it been since he’d felt needed? He used to thrive on problem-solving. A part of him craved charging in to Jane’s rescue, but to fully embrace her needs, he’d have to abandon his own.

Or maybe not? Maybe all this situation required was basic human compassion. What could it hurt to at least offer her that?

She sniffed, finally backing away. “Sorry. I-I guess you’re right. I’ve been putting on this brave front, trying to act upbeat and like my loss of memory doesn’t really matter, but it does. I’m terrified. I have dozens more questions than answers. Biggest of all? What if I ran into the woods to escape danger?”

“Not gonna lie—” with her no longer in his arms, he missed their physical connection “—it’s a possibility. How about if we make a deal—once we get to the hospital, and your husband or parents step forward, if you feel at all threatened, give me a sign. Tug your ear or scratch your nose.”

“Then what?”

“No clue. We’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“Promise?” She’d lowered her gaze, and when she glanced up at him with late-afternoon sun making her still-teary eyes glisten, Gideon was lost.

“Sure.” By this time tomorrow, Jane and her son would be back with her family, and he would be reunited with Jelly Bean, who was no doubt miffed to find he hadn’t yet made it home. His life would have officially reverted to normal.

His neighbor and occasional caretaker, Mrs. Gentry, would barge in right when he sat down to dinner, yammering on about what naughty boys and girls his ragtag crew of livestock had been. After helping herself to a good portion of his meal, she’d then devour most of his dessert, leaving him even more grouchy than when she’d arrived.

“You’re scowling again.” Jane had left him to retrieve Chip from his grassy patch in the sun.

“It’s not about you. I have a busybody neighbor who makes me all kinds of crazy. I was just thinking about how infuriating it is when she eats my baked goods.”

“I’ll have you know I’m the best baker in—” She covered her mouth when a gleeful laugh bubbled free. “Did you hear that? I’m not sure how I know, or even where I stash my prized pink KitchenAid mixer, but I know I’m a baker—and I like pink.”

“This is good,” he said, collecting wood for a fire. “Is anything else coming to mind? Do you specialize in pies or cake or cookies? Please, God, let it be cookies.” His laugh felt shockingly good—and real. As real as his love for oatmeal scotchies and snickerdoodles.

“I’m not sure. Maybe? That might make sense since the first name that popped into my head for this little guy was Chip.”

“That’s a logical assumption. And shoot, I never met a cookie I didn’t like. I’ll bet you make them for gifts—you know, for your family and neighbors.” He dumped his latest load of wood next to the stone ring he’d previously made.

“That sounds nice.”

“Yes, it does.”

Call him crazy, but relief shimmered through him over the fact that her mood had returned to her formerly perky self. He liked her better smiley than moping. A double standard considering his own mood swings over the course of their journey. But now that they’d cleared the air between them, and he’d had his say about the fact that they were destined to be acquaintances—nothing more—his spirit felt lighter. With her not expecting anything from him, he felt more at ease.