The Rancher's Doorstep Baby. Patricia Thayer

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company. They come in, construct windmills and give the owners a percentage of the profits.” He smiled. “Rachel. You could not only get money for the leased land, but for the electricity they produce and sell to the surrounding areas.”

      “So it’s a good thing?”

      “It could be very good. But you need to contact this 21st Century and let them know you’re interested. No matter what the lawyer says, you’re more than capable of dealing with these people…” He glanced down at the name. “This Douglas Wills.” He handed the letter to her. He inhaled her fresh scent. No perfume could ever be as intoxicating.

      Rachel raised her head and looked up at him. Her face was void of makeup, allowing him to see the tiny freckles scattered across her nose. Her eyes were amber, fringed with long dark lashes. His body warmed as desire spread through him. He tried to ignore it, but she was too close, her mouth too inviting. He found he wanted a taste. He heard the quickening of her breathing.

      Then she spoke his name. “Cole…”

      Blocking out logical reasoning, he lowered his head to hers, anticipating the kiss. Just to taste her, he promised. Just once he wanted to get lost in her innocence…her sweetness.

      He was quickly brought back to reality by the sound of a car. Rachel jumped back. He should have been relieved but what he felt was frustration.

      As Rachel went to the window Cole followed, amazed at how close he’d come to making such a huge mistake. He couldn’t mess around with someone like Rachel and walk away. That would be too cruel.

      The sun was setting right outside the window making it difficult to see clearly. “Who is it?” he asked.

      “Not sure.” She walked out of the room, and Cole followed. He finally caught up to her as she stepped out on the back porch just in time to recognize the deputy sheriff getting out of the patrol car along with another man.

      Cole stood close enough to feel her tense.

      The man in the khaki uniform tipped his hat. “Good evening, ma’am.” He walked toward the porch, but stopped at the base of the steps. “I’m Deputy Clarke.”

      “Evening, Deputy,” Rachel said. “What brings you out here?”

      “We’re looking for Rachel Hewitt.”

      “I’m Rachel Hewitt.”

      The two men exchanged a look, then the deputy asked, “Do you have a sister named Sarah?”

      A whimpering sound escaped Rachel, and Cole automatically moved closer. “Yes…” she answered.

      “Could we come inside? We’d like to ask you some questions.”

      Rachel nodded and the two men walked up the steps and into the kitchen. “Have you seen my sister? Is she in Fort Stockton?”

      “No,” the deputy answered. “This is Mike Bentley. He’s from social services in San Antonio. That’s where your sister has been living for the past few months.”

      Suddenly the back door opened and Cy walked in. “Rachel…why is the sheriff’s car…?”

      “Cy, these gentlemen are here about Sarah. She’s been living in San Antonio.”

      Cy and Cole exchanged a worried look. The sheriff didn’t show up on your doorstep with good news. “Is that a fact?”

      The man from social services finally spoke. “We tried to find her family, but it wasn’t until a friend came looking for her that we knew about you, Ms. Hewitt.”

      “Er, maybe you should sit down, ma’am,” the deputy said.

      Rachel blinked. “Is my sister in trouble, Deputy?”

      He shook his head. “I’m sorry to say Sarah died nearly three weeks ago in an automobile accident.”

      Rachel didn’t hear much more as the buzzing in her head drowned out everything else but the words, Sarah died. She felt herself sinking, until Cole put his arm around her and held her up.

      “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Just lean on me.”

      Struggling to regain her composure, Rachel straightened. “Please, sit down.” She moved around the kitchen. “I’ll make some coffee.”

      She suddenly felt Cole grip her trembling hands and stop her. “Rachel, we don’t need coffee. You need to sit down.” His eyes held hers. “Do you want me to call someone?”

      She shook her head. “Just…can you…stay with me?”

      “Of course.” He led her to the table and sat her down in a chair, then pulled out another one for himself.

      “I’m sorry to put you through this, Ms. Hewitt, but your sister didn’t leave much information about her family. And it was important we find you because…” The two men exchanged a long look, then the deputy continued, “Because before your sister died she gave birth to a baby girl.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      AT SIX-THIRTY the next morning, Rachel dressed in a dark skirt and white blouse. The night had passed in a blur. She had relied on Cy and Cole to take the details about her sister’s accident. After the words, blown tire, she hadn’t processed much more. Later, Rachel learned that Sarah had lost control of her car and crashed into a tree. Her sister had been in a coma when the doctor delivered her baby four weeks prematurely.

      Unable to sleep, Rachel had wandered through the house, trying to rid herself of the guilt that threatened to consume her. She should have tried harder to find Sarah, tried harder to bring her home.

      Now, she was bringing home her sister’s baby daughter.

      After packing an overnight bag for the trip to San Antonio, she went out where Cy and Cole were waiting beside the dark late-model truck. Cole took her bag and placed it inside the crew cab. She turned to Cy.

      “Are you sure you’re well enough to handle things?”

      “Shoot, I could do it with my eyes closed.” He hugged her. “To ease your mind, Bud Campbell is stopping by to help out.”

      Rachel studied the man who’d been the only loving force in her life. He was like an uncle to her. “Just don’t overdo it. I left some chicken in the refrigerator for you. So be sure to eat it, and not that fried food and heavy gravy from the diner in town.”

      “Stop nagging me, girl.” Cy hugged her. “You have enough to worry about.” He glanced at Cole. “Make sure she eats, too.”

      “Will do,” Cole promised as he opened the door. “We better get on the road.”

      After Rachel climbed in, he started the engine and headed toward Interstate Ten. Cole tried not to speed, wanting to arrive safely, but it was a long way to San Antonio. For the first few hours Rachel just sat there and stared out the window. The constant steady hum of the engine was the only sound in the truck cab.

      “Do you think she suffered?” Rachel finally

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