The Colorado Kid. Vicki Lewis ThompsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
focusing on the next steps, trying to turn the nightmare into the sort of interesting science experiment that would have challenged her in college. She’d bought several wigs to cover her red hair then traded her royal blue car in for the nondescript gray Subaru. Mechanically she’d packed, leaving in the middle of the night hoping that no one would see her. And for three days, she’d been gradually switching Elizabeth to formula.
The moon picked out fragments of ice in the dirt road, making them glitter like broken glass. Patches of snow gleamed in open areas between stands of juniper. Thank God the weather was still cold enough that the road was frozen instead of muddy. Getting stuck out here would be disastrous.
And thank God Sebastian was home tonight. She’d called earlier from Canon City, pretending to be a carpet-cleaning service when he’d answered. His strong, gentle voice, sounding slightly impatient over the unwanted sales call but still kind, had brought tears to her eyes. He was such a good friend. How she longed to pour out the whole horrible story and run to him for comfort and advice. But she couldn’t risk it.
She drove slowly, searching the road on her right for the ranch entrance. When it rose up out of the darkness—two sturdy poles braced by a third across the top—a dagger of pain sliced past her defenses and left her gasping. She stopped the car and gripped the wheel until she was in control of herself again.
Behind her, Elizabeth whimpered softly in her sleep.
The soft, vulnerable sound nearly destroyed her, but it was the one sound she needed to hear. Swallowing a sob of anguish, she turned down the road leading to the ranch.
SEBASTIAN WANTED to move the whole program from the leather sofa, where Charlotte was lying half-naked, to the bedroom, where he’d have space to stretch his legs during the proceedings and the surface wouldn’t be so damned slippery. Besides, he’d stashed a couple of condoms in the drawer of his bedside table, figuring that was the logical place for them if and when they needed to be deployed. He hadn’t counted on Charlotte seducing him in the living room.
Now she seemed too involved to welcome a change of scenery, and he didn’t think he could carry her without risk of damage to both of them.
He levered himself away from her. “Charlotte, I need—”
“You need me, honey!” She grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him back down.
“Yeah, but first I have to get—”
“Undressed.” She had his buckle open in record time. She must have worked on belt buckles a time or two before this.
“Birth control,” he said around her eager kisses. He was off-balance and couldn’t stop her from tugging down his zipper without falling flat onto her.
“I have that covered.” She reached inside his jeans. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
He closed his eyes and tried to tell himself that he trusted her to take care of that detail. But he didn’t. With a groan he pulled away from her again. “I’m getting the condoms.”
“I’ll have you know I have no communicable diseases!” She grabbed his arm as he struggled off the sofa.
“Maybe I do,” he said.
“Ha.” She redoubled her efforts to pull him back to her. “You’ve lived like a monk since Barbara left.”
“Says who?” He wrestled his way out of her arms.
“Everybody in Fremont County, that’s who.” Panting, she gazed up at him. “Come on, now. It’ll feel so good without one of those little raincoats on.”
It would. It most certainly would. But as much as he relished the idea, he wouldn’t let himself succumb. “I don’t believe in taking chances,” he said.
And he never had, not in that way. He’d risked his neck a million times, but when it came to making babies, he was old-fashioned enough to believe that the father of the baby should be married to the mother. With luck they’d also be madly in love.
Charlotte gazed at him, her eyes hot. “Better hurry then, sugar. My motor’s running.” She glanced at his erection. “And I do believe the gearshift works.”
He couldn’t help smiling. Maybe this would be fun, after all, although the frantic pace didn’t suit him. “Guess it does.” He eased his zipper back up so his pants wouldn’t fall down as he started into the bedroom. “I’ll be right—”
The doorbell chimed.
He turned, hardly believing he’d heard the sound. This time of year he was alone on the ranch. Folks didn’t just drop by unannounced at nine-thirty on a Friday night unless something was wrong.
Immediately he thought of his neighbor Matty. Oh, God. What if something had happened over at the Leaning L? Matty lived alone, too, a fact that often worried him. He couldn’t say that to Matty, though. A more fiercely independent woman he’d never known.
He turned to Charlotte, who looked extremely put out with the interruption. He shrugged in apology. “Listen, could you go into the bedroom while I see who this is? It could be an emergency or something.”
“Damn well better be an emergency,” Charlotte muttered as she gathered her blouse together and climbed from the sofa. “Oh, well. I’ll go make myself comfortable in your beddie-bye.”
Sebastian snapped his shirt buttons and tucked the tails into his jeans. Then he buckled his belt. He hoped Matty wasn’t at the door, what with Charlotte lying naked in his bed. If Matty found out, she probably wouldn’t mind. She’d probably laugh about it. But it would embarrass the hell out of him.
Checking to make sure Charlotte was safely out of sight in the bedroom, he walked through semi-darkness to the front door. He’d pulled the drapes across the windows facing the porch, both for privacy and to keep the heat in on this cold March night.
When he opened the front door, he was nearly blinded by high beams trained right on the porch. Clouds of exhaust from the vehicle billowed in the cold night air. He threw up an arm, trying to shade his eyes. “Who’s there?”
The idiot driver laid on the horn.
“Hey!” He started out the door. If this was somebody’s idea of a joke, he didn’t appreciate it. “What the hell are you—”
He stopped abruptly as he heard a wail. A baby’s wail.
Right by his feet.
He looked down and damned if there wasn’t one of those baby carriers by the door. And damned if the wailing wasn’t coming from a real live kid!
As he stood there, too stunned to react, the headlight beams shifted, arcing across the porch as the driver swung the vehicle around.
Sebastian charged down the porch steps. “Hold on! You can’t leave a baby here like some stray dog! Come back, damn your hide! How’m I supposed to know what to do with a damned baby?” He ran a fruitless few yards, memorizing the license plate before he gave up and headed back to the porch, where the baby was still crying.
He let loose a string of oaths, his breath frosting the air as he stomped up the steps. If this didn’t take the cake. Sure, he’d had the usual puppies and kittens dropped at his place. City folks seemed to think a ranch was like the local Humane Society, the perfect place to leave unwanted pets. But a baby! He couldn’t get his mind around the concept.
At least he had noted the license plate of the car. Not that anyone who would do such a thing deserved to have the kid back. He’d like to see them prosecuted, though, and that was reason enough to see they were tracked down. For the time being, he’d better get this little bundle into the house where it was warm.
He started to reach for the infant seat, and in the soft glow of the porch light noticed a note was pinned to the baby’s blanket.
“Sebastian?” Charlotte, barefoot and wearing only his bathrobe, approached the open front door. “Do I hear