Yuletide Baby Bargain

Chapter Three

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!”