The Baby Race (12 page)

Race watched Claire hurry away. What did he
deserve? He'd let Banner disappear into the night. Was the Rescue
Race Ranch more important than one little girl's future?

Without false modesty Race knew his ranch
filled a need, but there were others doing the same. If he lost the
ranch he could place the horses now in his care.

He knew what he deserved. What did Bobbie Sue
deserve?

"Come see my presents."

Bobbie Sue's excited call drew Race from his
thoughts. His decision made, he plastered a smile on his face and
headed toward the gaggle of little girls.

*****

From where she curled on the porch swing,
Claire could see the stars, like the flicker of fireflies,
reflecting on the river. A water-cooled breeze whispered over her
heated skin, bringing with it the scent of moss. The chirp of
crickets and the croak of frogs filled the night air, but the
peaceful atmosphere didn't ease her tension. She wasn't sleeping
well. Each night she woke in a sweat, her heart pounding from
nightmares of hunting for Bobbie Sue.

Banner hadn't contacted her in a week. Not
that it mattered. She hadn't – couldn't raise the money he
demanded.

Monday was her appointment with the
caseworker. Would Banner come tonight? Had he decided to sue for
custody? If he did, could she take Bobbie Sue and disappear? After
what he'd done for her, could she abandon Race?

Where could they go? She still had another
year before she finished her degree in food and beverage
management. What would she use for money?

Pride warred with fear. Should she go to
Grandmere and plead for help? Though Grandmere seemed fond of her
and Bobbie Sue, Banner was asking for a lot of money. Grandmere
might decide to challenge him in court rather than just pay him
off. Could Claire take the chance of losing Bobbie Sue?

Like the drone of angry bees, questions
without answers buzzed in her mind.

In three days school would start. To
celebrate the end of summer, Cindy and Jackson had taken their
girls, Vicki and Bobbie Sue camping. While Claire appreciated the
warm, loving extended family they'd found, Bobbie Sue's absence
left her heart feeling empty.

Earlier Race had jumped in his truck and
peeled down the gravel drive, his destination unknown. Since Bobbie
Sue's party, a week earlier, he'd been silent and withdrawn. The
marriage bonus money from Grandmere in hand, he no longer made even
a pretense of being a loving husband. His desertion hurt. Though
Claire realized their marriage was one of convenience, with no
declarations of love on either side, she'd come to look forward to
spending time with him.

The rumble of an engine made her sit up.
Headlights pierced the darkness, blinding her. Despite the mild
night air, cold sweat trickled down her back. Was it Banner? What
could she say to the man to convince him to leave Bobbie Sue with
her without the money?

Race's truck spewed gravel as it slammed to a
stop in front of the house. Claire sagged in relief. No matter how
brief, she welcomed the reprieve. She looked down at him from the
porch. Light from the house filtered out partially illuminating his
face. Unshaven and rumpled, head and shoulders bowed, he looked
tired and withdrawn.

"Hi," she said.

His gaze didn't meet hers, but he lifted his
head. She gasped. Blood trickled from over one eye and his nose.
Dark blotches stained his torn shirt and jeans. His denim jacket
hung limply from one finger over his shoulder.

Concerned, she hurried down the stairs and
took his arm. "My God, what happened? Are you hurt? Come inside and
let me see."

He gave only a token resistance when she
pulled him into the kitchen and gently pushed him down onto a
chair. Once there his eyes closed and his shoulders sagged. The
smell of cigarettes, beer and stale perfume hung in the air around
him, stinging her nose and raising her ire. He'd been fighting. His
denim jacket slid to the floor.

She wet a dishtowel and dabbed at the blood
on his face.

His eyes flew open. He grabbed her hand.
"Damn, woman! That hurts."

"Serves you right for drinking and
fighting."

"Wasn't drinking. Other guy spilled his beer
on me. Not a fight. Takes two to fight," he muttered.

Puzzled over his comment, she tugged her hand
free and continued to clean his injured face. "I think I should
take you to the emergency room. You need a couple stitches over
your eye."

"No hospital."

"But...."

"Put a butterfly on it. It'll be fine. I've
had worse."

"Maybe I should staple it."

"I'm glad you find this funny." His bark of
laughter ended on a groan. "Give me some aspirin."

She cleaned and bandaged his battered face,
then handed him a glass of water and several painkillers. A few
moments later she asked, "Want to tell me what happened?"

His expression turned cold. "Not really your
business." He stood and left the room.

Though he was right, his words hurt.
Mechanically she tidied the kitchen.

In the last few months she'd let herself
forget that they didn't have a real marriage or even a personal
relationship. It was a business deal. She had no need to know what
he did or he to know what she did. She picked up his jacket. His
scent clung to the rough denim.

Though it was only for show, she'd grown
comfortable and content in her role as Race's wife. Her brief
glimpses of the tender man beneath his gruff exterior tantalized
her. She tried not to wonder what it would be like to be the
recipient of his care...his love. She rarely allowed herself to
long for a more intimate connection with Race.

After the court made its decision about
Bobbie Sue, all that remained was for them to live as roommates for
the next nine months to fulfill the terms of Grandmere's marriage
bonus. Then they'd be free to go their separate ways.

But if Banner refused to sign the papers and
demanded custody, things would change. She'd have to take Bobbie
Sue and run.

Where would that leave Race? If Grandmere
demanded he return the money, he would lose the ranch.

What choice did she have? Race's dream or
Bobbie Sue's future? Tears of fear and exhaustion burned the back
of her eyes. Like a life preserver on a stormy sea she clutched his
jacket.

Paper crackled. She eased her grip. A crisp
white envelope was stuck in the pocket. When she draped the jacket
over the back of the kitchen chair, the envelope tumbled to the
floor. The contents, several sheets of paper, slid free of the open
envelope. Legal documents.

As she was stuffing the papers back into the
envelope Banner's name jumped out at her. Crouched on the kitchen
floor she clutched the paper and started to read.

This was the form Banner needed to sign for
her to adopt Bobbie Sue. Her heart jumped and her fingers trembled
as she scanned the document. There in an untidy scrawl Banner's
signature signed away his rights to Bobbie Sue.

Bones weak with relief, she sat on the floor
her back against refrigerator. The uneven vibration of the
machine's motor echoed the erratic thud of her heart.

Somehow Race had convinced Banner to sign the
papers. How had he done it? The image of Race's bloody face floated
in her mind. Had the two men slugged it out? Did it matter? Bobbie
Sue was safe. Banner was out of their lives. New energy surged
through Claire. She jumped to her feet. She had to thank Race.

*****

Race let the hot water beat down on his bent
head. Soap stung the cut above his eye. He welcomed the pain, but
it didn't still his thoughts.

He'd tracked Banner to the Dog Pit, a local
watering hole at the edge of town. In return for Race's investment
in Banner's latest business venture, one that happily didn't
involve him remaining in Council Falls, Banner had signed the forms
giving up his parental rights to Bobbie Sue.

The whole transaction left a sour taste in
Race's mouth. He'd thought briefly of telling social services about
Banner's threat, but the risk was too great. His personal
experience with social workers and the courts didn't inspire
confidence that they would act in Bobbie Sue's best interests.
While the investment wasn't technically connected to Banner's
signature on the adoption papers, if the court were to investigate
closely, they'd all be in trouble.

Still, Banner seemed happy enough with the
deal. He made it clear he didn't want custody of Bobbie Sue. A
little girl would cramp his style. Even though his own actions were
suspect, Race made it clear that if Banner tried to hold them up
for more money, he wouldn't hesitate to go to the authorities and
have what was left of Banner arrested for extortion. The man
promised he'd be out of town by Monday.

The cut over Race's eye and bloody nose
happened when he went back into the bar to celebrate Bobbie Sue's
adoption and mourn the coming loss of the Rescue Race Ranch.
Saturday night at the Dog Pit tended to get rowdy. But rowdy suited
Race's mood. Or he thought it did until the first drunk dumped a
beer all over him, a second took a lucky swing and bloodied Race's
nose, and then a buxom, leather-wrapped, bottle-blonde started to
coo over his injuries.

The odor of sweat, booze and stale perfume
clinging to her reminded him of his childhood and made him long for
Claire's fresh clean scent. Like a whipped dog, tail between his
legs, he ran for home - the home Claire had created out of his
house. And like that same dog, when she offered him comfort he'd
growled and snapped at her in fear.

Race leaned his head against the tile and
groaned. How had he let Claire slip under his guard? Become
important to him? Theirs was a business arrangement. He had nothing
to offer her or Bobbie Sue - financially or emotionally. Especially
now.

They could get by on the money from his
saddle making business, but come next June the ranch was gone. Or
he should give it up now, place the horses elsewhere and sell the
land to Colin. The proceeds would allow Race to provide a secure
home for Claire and Bobbie Sue while they waited out the year until
they could divorce.

Tomorrow he'd file the papers and contact
Colin.

The water turned cool, but Race didn't move.
He shivered with a cold that had nothing to do with the now icy
water cascading over him.

Suddenly the shower door opened and the water
shut off.

"Are you crazy?" Claire tugged him out of the
shower stall and thrust a thick towel at him. "You'll catch a
chill."

Chilled or not, her presence heated his
blood. He snatched the towel from her hands and held it to cover
himself. But not before she caught sight of his erection.

Color flared across her cheeks. "I-I'm
s-sorry," she stuttered, and stumbled back, suddenly aware of what
she'd done.

Anger sparked Race's desire. "Do you think
I'm a eunuch?"

"N-no, of course n-not. I wasn't thinking.
I'll leave now." She backed away.

"I don't think so." He let the towel slip
from his fingers and stalked toward her.

Her wide-eyed gaze followed the fall of the
towel then jerked upward. "W-what are y-you d-doing?"

"I was taking a shower until you interrupted
me. Did you want something?" He backed her against the sink and let
his lips curl up suggestively. Mere inches separated their bodies.
Though they didn't touch, he felt her tremble.

Want, hot and hard, slammed into him. Beyond
sense and reason he wanted - needed this woman. Now.

Only she could fill the emptiness deep in his
soul. Only she touched that part of him he'd thought long dead.
Only she reached into him and resurrected the man he was meant to
be, the man he'd buried during childhood.

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
Mouth parted on a startled gasp, she stared at him. Her eyes
reflected the heat he knew burned in his. Soft and moist, the tip
of her tongue flicked nervously over her lips.

With a groan he surrendered to her unspoken
invitation, lowered his head and took possession of her lips. With
a soft moan she accepted and gentled his kiss. Warm and willing,
her mouth clung to his. Her arms crept around his shoulders and she
arched her body against his. Heat, sweet with her scent, surrounded
him, filling his senses. Like a trail of liquid lightning, her
fingers stroked the sensitive nape of his neck, and tangled in the
wet strands of his hair.

For a while he was content to explore her
eager mouth. At his tender urging she opened her lips and admitted
his tongue. She tasted of raspberry ice tea and frosted sugar
cookies. He delved deeper, swallowing her startled whimpers of
pleasure.

Her breasts pressed against his chest. His
erection throbbed in time with the rapid beat of her heart. He
reached for the buttons on her blouse, wanting – needing to feel
her skin against his. Her small flinch of denial before she relaxed
in his embrace made him pause and look up. Dark lashes fluttered on
sun-kissed cheeks. Her parted lips looked ripe and moist from his
kisses.

Water dripped off his hair, dampening her
cotton shirt to near transparency. The simple lines of her virginal
bra reminded him of her youth and inexperience, tempering his
ardor. In the foggy mirror behind her head he could see his
reflection - a ragged, battered stranger stared back at him. Guilt
and conscious stabbed him.

He couldn't do this. Couldn't betray the
trust she so mistakenly gave him. With a frustrated groan he said,
"You'd better leave before we do something we'll both regret."

Regret was the furthest thing from his mind,
but honor demanded he push her away. He tried to pull away and step
back; only she was having none of it.

She tightened her arms around him and met his
gaze without flinching. "The only thing I'll regret is if you leave
me now. Even if it's not forever we're married. I want to feel
married. Feel…" She let her words fade away then said, "Hold me.
Touch me. I want you to make love with me, Race. Please."