of protest soon filled the air.
Karen placed the naked, crying baby on the scale and fiddled with the dial. “There we go. Four pounds, eleven and a half ounces.”
Uh-oh. Only a half ounce? That wasn’t very much, was it? At this rate, Marissa would be in kindergarten before she hit the ten-pound mark.
“Good job, Mom.” Karen picked up the unhappy baby and handed her to Juliet. “She’s already regained her birth weight.”
“That’s good,” Juliet said. “She’d dropped down to four pounds, six ounces when we left the hospital.”
Oh. So she was making up for lost weight. Mark blew out a sigh. “When do we have to bring her back in?”
The “we” slipped out without him realizing it.
Damn, he was going to have to step back and let Juliet and Marissa get on with their lives. He’d be leaving town shortly—just as soon as he finished the story.
“Since the baby was a good four weeks early and small,” the nurse said, “we’d like to see her in another week. But so far, so good. She’s doing just great. Do you have any questions?”
“When can she take a bath?” Juliet asked.
“The cord is just dangling. So as soon as it falls off, you can bathe her.”
Mark didn’t like the thought of the tiny girl in the bathtub. “Isn’t she too little for the tub?”
The nurse smiled. “If you don’t have one of those plastic baby baths, you can bathe her in the kitchen sink.”
“Oh,” he said. There was a lot about babies he still didn’t know.
The nurse led them to the desk where they could make an appointment. When they settled on next Friday at two, the receptionist said, “There’s a ten-dollar co-pay for this visit.”
Mark reached for his wallet.
“What are you doing?” Juliet tugged at his shirtsleeve. “I can pay that.”
“I know.” But he wasn’t going to let her. She had a lot of upcoming expenses—a babysitter, for one. He whipped out a twenty. “Let me take care of this.”
The woman at the desk gave him change and they returned to the car. All the while, Marissa made quite a racket, and no amount of shushing or gentle swaying seemed to help.
“Do you mind if I feed her first?” Juliet asked.
“No. Go ahead.” Mark hadn’t meant to watch, to see her unbutton her pink cotton blouse and offer a breast to the child. But he couldn’t turn away.
It’s not as though there was anything sexual about it. Well, not really. But the attraction, the appeal, was just as strong, just as powerful.
For a moment, he wondered if he would ever be part of a family—like this one. But he quickly shook off the crazy notion.
After all, he’d been married once. To a pretty coed he’d met in college, a homebody with a teaching credential. The kind of woman who wanted to be a mother and create a family. A sweet, twenty-two-year-old redhead who’d morphed into a whiny nag after the first six months. And then she’d offered him an ultimatum—either his marriage or his career.
Mark had told her that he couldn’t walk away from the job he loved, especially not while on an assignment. And when he got back to town, she was gone—along with the furniture and all the wedding gifts.
The failure of the marriage had hurt, even though he’d sensed it coming. But he hadn’t fought the divorce, letting his ex have all the stuff they’d acquired in the short time they’d been together.
What the hell. He would have had to put everything in storage anyway.
After Marissa had been burped and placed into the car seat, Mark headed home along White Water Drive.
The sky was a vast, springtime blue, and the sun promised to warm the wintry chill in the breeze and carry them to summer. Yet Mark had learned the weather in Montana could turn stormy on Mother Nature’s whim.
As they neared the colorful flags that lined the entrance of Ranch View Estates, a hell of an idea began to form.
Mark’s accountant had been after him for years to buy a home—as an investment, as a much needed tax write-off. But Mark had dragged his feet.
Hell, he’d let the execs at Golden Eagle know that he was willing to go anywhere the company sent him. So why have a house when he was never home?
Instead, he’d socked away the cash he would have spent on a mortgage and put it into a money market account that had been growing steadily. With his globe-trotting lifestyle, complete with a hefty expense account, he didn’t have much opportunity to spend his earnings.
Still, he thought about what his accountant had said.
What if he bought one of those ranch-style houses? Just a small one, of course. He could let Juliet and the baby live there, and she could take care of the property for him—in lieu of rent. After all, he’d be taxed on rental income anyway, wouldn’t he?
And she certainly didn’t need to be wasting money that was better spent elsewhere. Her wages and tips from The Hitching Post couldn’t possibly be very much, and he suspected she would have a difficult time making ends meet, especially if she had to hire a sitter.
And speaking of babysitters, they’d better find someone good. Someone competent. Mark didn’t like the idea of just anyone looking after Marissa.
“It’s a pretty day,” Juliet said.
“Yeah. It is.” And it was too nice for her and the baby to stay cooped up in that drab old apartment. “I was planning to go by the museum today. Would you and Marissa like to go with me?”
“Sure. We’d love to. On my days off, I used to spend a lot of time there.” She crossed her arms and slid him a questioning look. “But why do you want to go to the museum? I thought history didn’t interest you.”
“Normally, it wouldn’t. But I’m looking for information about the Queen of Hearts that will add a little color and flavor the article I’m writing. And while I interview the docent, you and Marissa can wander around and enjoy the place all you want.”
“We will.” Then she flashed him a pretty smile that turned him every which way but loose.
Damn. He was growing a little too fond of the mother and her baby. Too concerned about their welfare.
It was definitely time to finish his story and get the hell out of Dodge.
The Thunder Canyon Museum was located on two acres of land on Elm Street, in a barn-red clapboard structure that had been a schoolhouse in the late eighteen hundreds. Originally, it had been built in the classic, one-room style, with a foyer/mudroom and big closet in front, the schoolroom in the center and a kitchen/workroom in back.
But over the years, outbuildings had been added until the community outgrew the
