to the baby as she settled Elizabeth in the playpen with a noisy rattle to distract her. “I’ve seen them in films and magazines, so I know they exist. But I never met one in the flesh until last night. Whoever he is, I’m afraid I’ll never forget him.”
Up until the last Christmas recess, Hannah had been in graduate school at the University of Laramie where she’d dated various men on campus who’d seemed anxious to get to know her better. But over the holidays her younger sister Lisa had given birth to Elizabeth, and then had run away from home. She’d left no message where she was going or when she would be back.
In order to care for the baby who’d been virtually abandoned and needed her aunt desperately, Hannah’s whole life had been turned around in a matter of hours. It meant putting her studies and social life on hold, but she wasn’t complaining.
Compared to the welfare of a beautiful, innocent child, any sacrifice was worth it, especially when the baby was Hannah’s flesh and blood. She would think about her own personal needs and desires at another time. Right now Elizabeth was her number-one priority.
After pressing a kiss to the baby’s silken blond head, she hurriedly took advantage of the time to get the store part of the museum ready for business.
To her consternation, the stranger’s image continued to haunt her all morning while she waited on customers. Finally, when Elizabeth went down for her afternoon nap and there was a lull in tourist activity, Hannah phoned the hospital for information.
She should have been relieved to learn that Mr. Giraud had already been discharged with nothing more than a headache and a sprained ankle. For his sake she was relieved.
What she couldn’t understand was this unfathomable sense of disappointment that he’d already left the hospital. Not that she would ever have seen him again. Of course she wouldn’t have. But it was just the idea that he’d come and gone so quickly from her life.
In ways, she wished the accident hadn’t happened at all. She wished she’d never looked into the velvety-brown depths of his eyes, never felt the strength of his incredible physique, never held him close enough to breathe in his masculine scent, never touched his luxuriant hair, never memorized the strong lines of his darkly handsome features.
What a magnificent man…
The more she thought about him, the more she wondered what kind of business had brought a person like that out to Wyoming of all places. Even more puzzling, why had he been driving around on her property, especially when there was no road? None of it made sense.
At one point she chastised herself for allowing thoughts of him to impinge on her consciousness. All they did was remind her that for whatever reason he’d ventured into Wyoming territory, he probably wouldn’t be staying here long. It was absurd to even entertain the hope of seeing him again or getting to know him better.
In fact she was so angry at her foolish, ridiculous imaginations, she intentionally exhausted her strength by spending the rest of the afternoon between customers unloading a week’s work of saleable merchandise from the trunk of her car.
The latest stack of printed flyers needed to be scrolled and put out on the counter. They’d been made to look like authentic want ads. She tied each one with a thong to add the finishing touch. The flyers, along with the Pony Express Rider outfits and the colorful maps of the Pony Express Trail, were the items tourists always bought first. In fact they sold faster than anything else at the historic Sandhill way station museum.
It filled Hannah with pride that Sandhill stood on Carr property, one of the few stations across the country still remaining and still preserved in its original state since the 1860s.
Literally a crude log hut where the riders of old changed horses and bedded down for the night in a bunk, Hannah’s deceased father, a rodeo champion turned postal worker who’d retired early due to a medical disability, had constructed a counter so they could turn the place into a shop as well as a museum.
Outside he’d restored the original makeshift barn. Hannah kept her mare there. Under her supervision parents paid good money to let their children have a ride around the small corral.
Thankful for the customers who flocked to Wyoming, especially during the summer months, Hannah counted on the revenue for her bread and butter. With Elizabeth to feed and clothe, back tuition fees to pay, plus the heavy expense of hiring a private detective to locate her missing sister, Hannah needed every dime she could save.
Two weeks ago she’d opened the museum to coincide with the end of classes at the university, the signal that summer had come to the state.
Now that the hotter weather had finally kicked in, the tourist season had started to pick up and would reach its peak through July and August. Tour bus groups spent the most money, especially the elderly couples.
While the men purchased maps and argued points of history, their wives thronged to the counter to buy Pony Express rider hats and trinkets for their grandchildren.
As soon as Hannah showed them the flyers, most of the women bought one, but so far Elizabeth had been the greatest attraction to date. The minute the women caught sight of the baby, everything stopped while they oohed and ahhed over her. Even the men couldn’t resist patting her on the head. While everyone lingered, the sales continued to mount.
After this long Hannah had thought Elizabeth would have grown used to the attention, but she invariably burst into tears and would cling to Hannah, hiding her head so no one could get a good look at her. In fact she’d been fussy since the last busload pulled away.
The museum was no place for a baby. Mr. Moench, an attorney and old family friend who’d helped find a reputable private investigator to look for her sister had intimated as much, and no one knew it better than Hannah. The heat could be suffocating by the end of the day.
But even if she could have come up with the money for a woman to baby-sit Elizabeth at the claustrophobic apartment in Laramie, Hannah couldn’t bear to be parted from her all day long. Her heart would have ached for the baby if they couldn’t be together. Hannah loved Elizabeth every bit as much as if she’d given birth to her.
The baby was thriving and doing the most amazing things. She was a miracle. Hannah didn’t want to miss a second of her development. Besides, Elizabeth needed her. She depended on her for literally everything…So there was no other choice but to make a difficult situation work, despite the obstacles.
Unfortunately after Hannah’s last trip to the car, the baby seemed worse and refused to be comforted. Hannah had fed her and changed her diaper, but still her tears increased. Maybe she’d caught a cold and her tummy was sick.
“There, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” she crooned to her, reaching out a hand to feel her cheeks and forehead. In this heat Hannah couldn’t tell if the two of them were just hot, or if the baby was running a temperature.
Growing more anxious, Hannah picked her up and started rocking her. When the baby cried harder, there was nothing to do but close the museum an hour early and take her to the nighttime pediatrics clinic in town. No matter how much she needed the money the store generated, Elizabeth’s health came first.
She quickly placed the Closed sign in the window, then emptied the money box in an envelope, which she put in her purse. Grabbing the diaper bag she headed for the door with Elizabeth, only to be bombarded by another group of tourists making their way through the entry.
Hannah couldn’t believe it. In her haste to get back to
