Читать книгу Fortune's Secret Baby - Christyne Butler, Christyne Butler - Страница 7

Thirteen steps.

The length of the baby’s room, from the crib near the bay window to the doorway at the opposite corner, could be covered in thirteen steps.

Cooper Fortune had been counting, repeatedly, for the last interminably long twenty minutes while the squirming five-month-old in his arms wailed loud enough to wake the dead.

Anthony, middle name still unknown, Fortune. His son. A child he’d only known existed for the last week and a half.

Probability of paternity = 99.99%.

That’s what the laboratory had told him when they’d called with the results and in the blink of an eye, Cooper Fortune—wandering cowboy—had a child.

“Looks like you lost the parent lottery.” Cooper spoke above the baby’s cries as he paced the small room, cradling the flailing infant against his chest. “Welcome to the club, buddy. My folks were lousy, too.”

He had no memory of his father, and Cooper’s mother, Cindy Fortune, a former showgirl and wannabe socialite, easily held the number-one spot on the list of worst mothers in the history of the world.

“Of course, we still don’t know what happened to your mama,” Cooper continued, noticing the decibel level of the baby’s cries, not to mention the wiggle factor, had lessened as soon as he started talking. “But your Uncle Ross is on the case and I’m sure he’ll find her soon. I wish I knew why she left you and how the hel—heck you ended up here in Red Rock.”

And why Lulu never bothered to tell him she was pregnant.

He’d met Lulu Carlton at a local bar about a year and a half ago while working on a ranch in Rock Country, Minnesota. They dated for about six months, but when Cooper’s job ended, so had the relationship. Anthony’s estimated birth date was around the middle of December, which meant the child was conceived just before Cooper hightailed it out of Minnesota early last year.

And didn’t that make him feel like a loser?

As he stared down at the little bundle looking up at him with a curious gaze from familiar dark brown eyes, Cooper had no idea what to do next.

“This isn’t working out too well, huh, partner? We haven’t exactly had much one-on-one time, until tonight. And usually you’re a bit quieter.”

Cooper watched the baby rub at his eyes with tiny fists. The crying lowered to a soft whimpering for a moment. Could the pacing and talking actually be working?

He slowly headed for the crib. Maybe he could get back downstairs before the end of the Red Sox/Rangers game he’d been watching in between reading a book that promised to tell him everything he needed to know about dealing with a baby. He leaned over the railing, making sure to support Anthony’s head like he’d seen Kirsten do numerous times, but the moment the kid went horizontal, the screams returned.

“Okay, so you’re not ready to concede.” Cooper gathered the baby to his chest and started walking again, patting Anthony gently on his back. “Boy, you got some lungs on you. I don’t recollect you putting up this much of a fuss before.”

Cooper had slept in the spare bedroom downstairs for three nights before he’d heard a peep out of the kid after bedtime. At first he hadn’t known what the noise was. Heck, it sounded a bit like a baby calf bellowing for its mama.

“But by the time I hightailed it up here, Miss Kirsten already had things taken care of, huh? Not tonight, though. Tonight, it’s just you and me—”

“What’s going on? Is he okay?”

He turned toward the feminine voice. His cousin’s fiancée, Kirsten Allen, stood at the doorway. When Anthony let loose another howl, she crossed the room in a heartbeat and reached for the baby.

And Cooper let her take him.

His first instinct had been to keep hold of his son, but Anthony had stuck out his little arms for the petite brunette as soon as he saw her.

“Oh, sweetie, what’s all this crying about?” Kirsten cooed as she held the child close. “It’s okay now, I’ve got you.”

Cooper crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the pang in his heart at her words.

“He’s been bawling like that for close to a half hour now,” he said when she looked at him. “He calmed down some, but I guess that was just a rest before he revved up again.”

“Is he wet? Did you check his diaper?”

Diaper?

Damn! Cooper let his silence answer her.

Kirsten walked to the changing table and laid Anthony down on the padded cushion. “What about a bottle?” she asked, her tone softer, matching Anthony’s now-quiet fussing while making quick work of changing the baby. “It’s been a few hours since he last ate. Did you make up a bottle for him from the formula we left on the kitchen counter?”

Strike two. The thought of a bottle never crossed his mind. “I’ll go get one now.”

She paused in closing up a fresh diaper on the baby to look at him. “Cooper, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved off her apology and headed for the doorway. “Be back in a minute.”

Seconds later, he walked into the kitchen but stopped at the sight of his cousin, Jeremy Fortune, a can of powdered formula and jug of filtered water in front of him, mixing up a bottle.

Cooper leaned against the door frame and fought not to react to the unnamed emotion bubbling up inside him at the sight of the doctor who looked so at ease fixing a meal for his son.

But life in general was easy for his cousin; being one of the good Fortunes made it so for him and his four brothers, all of whom had found success, both professionally and in their personal lives. Cooper and his siblings had never had it easy despite sharing the Fortune name, a name that carried a lot of respect and admiration, not only in Red Rock, but all of Texas.

Then again, Cooper’s brother, Ross, and their sister, Frannie, both had finally found happiness and love over the last year and his other brother, Flint, had made a name for himself as a fine arts dealer.

So where did that leave him?

Up until a couple of weeks ago, he’d lived a good life with a few simple guidelines: Always do the best job you can. A healthy bank account was more important than material belongings. Avoid stepping on another man’s toes where the ladies were concerned.

And no putting down roots. Better to be a rolling stone than a moss-covered rock stuck in one place. That last one led easily to the most important rule of all.

Never marry or have kids.

No sense getting involved when his personal history made it clear he was never going to be any good at it. Being a wandering cowboy, moving from ranch to ranch, job to job, came as natural to him as breathing.

Happily ever after? Not for him.

Scrubbing his face with his hand, Cooper pulled his mind from the past to deal with the here and now. He wasn’t angry, at least not with Jeremy or Kirsten. They were only doing what they knew was right for Anthony.

Was he pissed at himself for not remembering the basics Kirsten had tried to drill into his head for the last ten days? Or was it something more—a sense of defeat, of loss?

When Anthony had pulled away from him and reached for the woman who’d been taking care of him for the last four months, he felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by a wayward horse hoof.

“Ah, I guess I beat you to bottle duty.” Jeremy finally noticed Cooper standing there. “We heard Anthony crying when we walked in. I told Kirsten to let you handle things, but she lasted less than five minutes before heading upstairs. I figured having a second bottle ready to go wouldn’t hurt.”

Cooper smiled, hoping for the practiced grin he’d refined back in high school that had charmed everyone from cheerleaders to the local sheriff deputies. “You figured right.”

Jeremy secured a clear plastic cap over the nipple and tossed the bottle in Cooper’s direction.

He grabbed it midair. “Why don’t you take it upstairs?” Cooper asked. “I figured I’d catch the end of the game.”

His cousin just shook his head. “He’s your kid, Daddy.”

That was the first time someone had called him that and it hit Cooper right between the eyes. Hell, he hadn’t said the word to himself yet.

“What?” Jeremy asked.

Cooper shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Look, I know this … this whole situation is the craziest thing we’ve ever had to deal with—”

“With this family?”

A slight frown slipped over Jeremy’s face. “Okay, the craziest thing you’ve had to deal with since you headed out for greener pastures twenty-odd years ago, but you’re doing … You seem to be working hard at figuring everything out.”

“Yeah.”

His cousin put the jug of water into the refrigerator before turning back. “You know, finding out she wasn’t Anthony’s aunt was a bit of a shock for Kirsten. She and her brother believed the baby was his after his ex-girlfriend left Anthony with them.”

Cooper had already heard this crazy story.

When they’d managed to finally find the ex-girlfriend, she admitted neither she nor Kirsten’s brother were the baby’s true parents and that another man she was involved with gave her the baby to care for. Then the ex-girlfriend skipped town. The police were still trying to find her.

“If that gold medallion hadn’t been left with Anthony,” Jeremy continued, “who knows if we would’ve ever connected the baby to your side of the family.”

Cooper nodded. The medallion was one of four identical coins given to him and his siblings years ago as a Christmas gift from their mother. He hadn’t even realized it was missing from the inside zippered pocket of his duffle bag all these months.

“It’s been hard for Kirsten, but she’s happy you two have found your way to each other. She just wants what’s best for everyone. What’s best for Anthony.”

And you aren’t it.

The words weren’t spoken, but Cooper got the message.

Loud and clear.

“Are you nuts?” Flint Fortune took a long swallow before returning his beer bottle to the table with a loud thud. “Moving out? Living alone with Anthony? You’ve been in the kid’s life two weeks!”

Cooper ignored his younger brother and concentrated on Ross, the older one, who sat across from him in a booth at Red, a celebrated family restaurant in Red Rock. Owned by José and Maria Mendoza, Red was managed by one of their many offspring, Marcos, who’d sat the Fortune brothers in a corner booth to allow for private conversation.

Ross eyed him over the rim of his own beer, one brow raised.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a few days.” Cooper answered Ross’s unspoken question, his thumb tracing patterns in the condensation on his glass of iced tea. “I know it’s the right thing for me. And for Anthony.”

Taking a mouthful of tea to soothe his parched throat, Cooper reminded himself again why he’d sworn off alcohol the night he’d found out about his son.

There was no way his child would ever associate the stale odor of booze with a parental touch. The few times Cindy had displayed halfhearted affection to Cooper, the embrace always reeked of perfume, cigarette smoke and whatever drink she’d chosen as her favorite cocktail of that week.

“You’ve had a rough couple of weeks. First Anthony, and then finding out Lulu had been dead all these months instead of just a runaway parent. You sure this isn’t misplaced guilt?” Ross finally asked.

“No.”

“Identifying a former girlfriend’s remains in a morgue is something I never want on my ‘to-do’ list,” Ross continued. “And giving her a proper burial yesterday was a decent thing to do.”

“Lulu didn’t have any family. I did what needed to be done. I still wish I knew why she never tried to find me.”

“Well, we guessed she came to Red Rock back in January to see you because she’d read the news about William and Lily’s wedding.” Flint shoved a forkful of fajitas and guacamole into his mouth and quickly chewed. “The forensics report did say her car accident happened around that date.”

“That still doesn’t explain how my son ended up with Kirsten’s brother’s ex-girlfriend. Unless Lulu purposely left the baby with her,” Cooper said.

“Or why Lulu didn’t try to contact you long before the baby was born,” Ross added.

“Not that you would’ve been easy to find,” Flint said. “Hell, you finally got your first cell phone a week ago. Welcome to the twenty-first century, bro.”

The device was a necessity now because of the baby, and Cooper still wasn’t used to the contraption clipped to his belt. Still, even if he’d had a cell phone last year, would he have shared the number with Lulu?

“Lulu wasn’t happy I was leaving town, but it’s not like she begged me to stick around.” Cooper pushed at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. “We both made it clear from the beginning neither of us was interested in settling down. You guys know me, my life is—was—about being a cowboy, being free to go where I want, when I want. Maybe Lulu figured it was best if I wasn’t in the kid’s life at all.”

“But now you are.”

He let the fork drop to the plate. “Yes, and I need one-on-one time with my son if we’re ever going to find our way.”

“You don’t plan on leaving town, do you?” Ross asked.

Cooper shook his head. “No. Red Rock is home. The Fortunes are here and they’re Anthony’s family.”

“Damn right we are.”

All three brothers looked up to find JR Fortune standing at the table. The oldest of their Uncle William’s five sons, JR had left a successful life in Los Angeles last year to put down roots in Red Rock. He’d purchased a local ranch, renamed it after his deceased mother and went to work restoring the land and the buildings.

“JR.” Cooper greeted his cousin as he sat next to him.

“Things a bit crowded at my brother’s place?” JR asked.

Cooper nodded and quickly told the men at the table what happened two weeks ago and how he hadn’t had a moment alone with his son since. “I know I didn’t come up with the diaper or bottle answer right away that night, but I would’ve. I just never got the chance to think that far ahead.”

“Well, I have an idea that might work,” JR said. “Your stallion’s been staying at my place since you got back into town. We’ve got room for you and the baby, too.”

Cooper shook his head. The main house at his cousin’s ranch, Molly’s Pride, came with three times the square footage of Jeremy and Kirsten’s, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. “I appreciate you taking in Solo when I got to town and keeping an eye on him, but—”

“I’m not talking about staying in the hacienda with me and Isabella. There are a couple of furnished cottages on the place sitting empty. You and Anthony are welcome to one of them. It would give you two the independence it sounds like you’re looking for, but with family nearby … just in case.”

Glancing at his brothers, Cooper watched them nod in agreement. It was a good idea. He missed being on a ranch and he missed Solo, the buckskin stallion he’d picked up outside Laramie, Wyoming, six years ago and named after his favorite movie character. The horse had quickly become his best friend.

“Okay, but only if the place is far away from your house. Anthony’s got quite a set of lungs on him and he’s not afraid to use them.”

JR chuckled then said, “That’s fine with me, but we need to get used to the idea of baby noises around the ranch. Isabella is already decorating the nursery for our bambino.”

They sealed the agreement with a handshake and another round of beers for everyone—except Cooper, who asked for a refill on his sweetened iced tea.

As the setting sun cast a blaze of deep reds, bright oranges and soft pinks across the Texas sky, Cooper felt pretty damn proud of himself. He and Anthony were all moved into a two-bedroom stucco cottage. Ross, Jeremy and JR had helped with moving the baby furniture that Jeremy and Kirsten had insisted Cooper take with him.

Telling them about his decision had been hard, but they’d agreed it was the best idea for everyone, even as Kirsten flagged pages in his Parenting for Dummies book and programmed their phone numbers into his cell phone.

JR’s wife, Isabella, who ran her own interior design business from the ranch, had decorated the cottage with sturdy furniture and accents of bright Southwest colors. The miniature hacienda came complete with a swing on the covered front porch, a fully stocked kitchen and bedding for the queen-size bed in the bigger of the two bedrooms. With the smaller bedroom filled with everything Anthony needed, Cooper had to admit it felt good to be on his own again.

On his own plus one.

“Time for bed, little guy,” Cooper whispered, rising from the rocking chair, the bottle releasing from the baby’s mouth with a gentle pop.

It’d taken three tries to get the consistency of the bedtime bottle right, but he considered that a victory after they’d sampled a half dozen different jars of baby food before finding a flavor Anthony would eat without sending it flying through the air in disgust.

Making his way to the crib, Cooper stepped over the remains of a handful of disposable diapers on the floor. Who knew the sticky tabs on those suckers ripped off so easily? But his son was on his way to dreamland, that’s all that mattered.

Laying the boy on his back, Cooper paused for a moment, awed by the tightening in his chest as he looked at his son. Unable to stop himself, he lightly touched the unbelievable softness of one chubby cheek. Anthony’s fists waved in the air and Cooper backed away. Turning on the baby monitor on the nearby dresser, he grabbed the smaller handheld version and left the darkened room.

Drawn to the kitchen by the smell of freshly brewed coffee he’d made himself earlier but never got to taste, he poured a mug and paused to listen to the silence.

He wasn’t used to this.

Usually he spent his evenings at a local honky-tonk, in the company of fellow cowboys with a beer in one hand and a fistful of cards in the other, or on occasion, it was just him and his horse.

Ignoring the itch to visit his friend tucked away in the main barn, Cooper turned away from the mess in the kitchen and walked into the living room. He placed the baby monitor on the coffee table and reached for the parenting book he’d been reading for the last couple of weeks. The image of a smiling family graced the cover.

Had his father and mother ever looked at each other that way? At him? He doubted it. His father had taken off for greener pastures before Cooper had turned two, and Cindy was an indifferent parent at best.

What kind of parent had Lulu been? How had she dealt with being alone and pregnant? And what had finally driven her all this way to find him? Hadn’t she wanted the baby anymore?

Sighing, he settled back in his chair and cracked open the book, his mind focused on Anthony. Less than six months old and the kid was already the ultimate story of luck gone bad—a motherless child who was now stuck with him for a dad.

A little while later, cries jerked Cooper out of the arms of an unknown woman in a strange but enticing dream. Stumbling out of the chair and tripping over his boots lying nearby, he raced down the short hallway to the baby’s room.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found Anthony still on his back, the angelic look gone from his face and replaced with eyes clenched tightly together and his tiny mouth letting loose an ear-piercing screech.

“Hey, buddy, what’s going on?” He reached for the baby, who continued his crying. “Geesh, you’re not a happy camper.”

First stop, the changing table. Cooper made quick work of the baby’s diaper, thankful it was only wet and not one of the industrial-strength, poop-filled ones Anthony favored at times.

He peered at the clock and saw that it was just short of midnight. “Okay, so you must be ready for another fill-up. Good thing I’ve got another bottle cooling in the fridge, but you can tone it down any time now.”

Anthony either didn’t care or thought his daddy wasn’t moving fast enough, because the crying only increased as Cooper headed for the kitchen. His tone doubled when he saw the bottle.

“Hold on, partner. You don’t want cold cow juice.” Cooper juggled the baby with one arm while popping the bottle into the electric warmer. “Hang on just another five minutes.”

Anthony was hanging on, but not quietly. He fussed and squirmed while Cooper counted down the minutes on the warmer. Finally done, he shook the bottle and it took some maneuvering to test its contents to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Then he popped the bottle into Anthony’s waiting mouth.

The peace and quiet only lasted a few seconds.

“Easy there, you’re going to drown yourself.” Cooper pulled the bottle back as Anthony continued to cry, spitting up more of the liquid than he was taking in. “Okay, you don’t want the milk. What do you want?”

Anthony’s only answer was increased wailing.

He held the baby close to his chest and walked. Around the dining table, into the living room, down the hall and back again. He didn’t bother to count his steps this time as he gently patted Anthony on the back. Thankful for the dim glow from the night-light in the baby’s room and the light over the stove, he made it through the furniture obstacle course without stubbing his toe or bashing an ankle.

Now if he could only get the little guy to calm down.

“You liked it when I talked to you last time we were in this situation.” Keeping his voice low, Cooper never stopped moving or talking. “Maybe that’ll work again? But what the heck do I say to someone whose only response is an attempt to break my eardrums?”

Three hours later … three million steps.

Okay, maybe not three million, but it had to be close.

Cooper figured he’d shared his entire life story with the kid, starting with stories of growing up with Ross, Flint and Frannie—the four of them against the world—as they struggled to keep things going despite living with their wayward mother.

He told him about the time he and Ross taught Frannie how to ride a bicycle without training wheels, and when he’d taken on a bully twice his size after the kid refused to stop messing with Flint. Stories of high school, his rodeo days and taking college classes at a variety of places around the country until he finally earned his degree in animal husbandry. He even included every joke he could remember that might be appropriate for little ears.

He’d only paused long enough to grab a few sips of tepid tap water, not wanting to get a mug of hot coffee anywhere near the baby. Man, what he wouldn’t give for a cup of joe ….

Anthony had moments of lesser crying, but he never really stopped and Cooper was getting worried. He reached for his cell phone and flipped it open. Pressing the “contacts” button, he saw Jeremy and Kirsten’s number listed first.

But he couldn’t make the call. He and Anthony needed to make it through together. On their own.

The baby wasn’t warm so he figured he wasn’t running a fever. He was just cranky and probably missing the familiar surroundings of his former home, but Cooper had never been the one to comfort him. Someone else was always there to take Anthony off his hands. Now, he was the only person his son could rely on, and he was determined to make it work.

“You’re aiming to break the crying record, aren’t ya?” Cooper whispered. “I don’t know where you get your energy.”

Another diaper change, more tries with the bottle, making use of the rocking chair next to the crib.

Nothing worked.

“How about some music? What’s that saying about music soothing the savage beast?” He looked around for a radio, but there were none in the cottage. “Well, I hope you like country, because I don’t know any baby songs.”

He started with the classics from Johnny Cash and worked his way up to Garth Brooks, making up words when the real ones wouldn’t come. He tried the bottle again during his rendition of “Friends in Low Places” and the baby latched on to it. When it was empty, Anthony kept fussing, so Cooper kept singing. Halfway through a favorite tune by Willie Nelson, he suddenly realized two things.

The sun was starting to rise over the horizon and Anthony was finally asleep.

He put the baby back in his crib—thankful for the blinds that kept the room dark—and crept out into the hallway. Grabbing a much-needed cup of coffee and the handheld baby monitor, he headed to the front porch. Fresh air was called for right about now.

He stared out over the land. The buildings and gentle rolling hills that made up Molly’s Pride were still dark against the sky that slowly lightened. The quiet of the morning was only punctured by the soft snores coming through the baby monitor.

Damn, maybe he wasn’t doing the right thing after all.

Yeah, they’d made it through the night, but what if he was wrong? What if Anthony cried for so long because he was sick and had only worn himself out?

Stretching his arms wide, Cooper worked out the kinks in his back while offering a silent prayer that this crazy parenting plan of his was the right thing to do.

“I’ll take anything you want to send me,” he said to the heavens, resting one shoulder against the porch landing. “Just give me a sign.”

Ignoring his coffee, he stared into the distance, watching as dark shadows gave way to the coming daylight, a slow and easy progression that never failed to lift his spirits. Then on the horizon a cloud of dust formed out of nowhere, coming straight at him at breakneck speed. The sound of pounding horse hooves filled the air.

The cloud moved closer, taking the shape of a horse and rider. He straightened the moment the chestnut-colored quarter horse, recognizable by its well-muscled body and powerful, rounded hindquarters, galloped in front of the cottage.

The rider was a woman. She rode without a saddle, crouched low on the horse’s back, at ease and in control, with only the reins of the bridle in her grip. Her white dress billowed behind her, molding her curves and displaying miles of long lean legs. Her hair carelessly whipped in the wind, mimicking the horse’s tail in length and dark color.

Well, I’ll be damned.

He stepped off the porch, the morning dew soaking through his socks, and watched her ride to the top of a nearby hill. The horse slowed to a stop. The rider straightened and turned as if she felt him watching her.

A bright shaft of sunshine had him shielding his eyes. He stepped into the shadow near the porch railing, but when he dropped his hand, she was gone.

Whoa! Who was that beautiful lone rider?