Читать книгу The Cowboy Seal's Christmas Baby - Laura Marie Altom - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“That was delicious. Thank you.” Jane couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed a meal more. But then considering the fact that she didn’t know her own name, was that a surprise? The act of eating proved especially enjoyable, because of the normalcy of sharing a meal. If only for a moment, it distracted her from her frightening reality—of literally having zero reality.

“It was no biggie.” Her cowboy had added water to a packet of dehydrated sweet-and-sour pork. He was right; the shared feast hadn’t required an inordinate amount of culinary skill, but it was hot and filling and for now, that was good enough.

Before sundown, he’d built up the fire, then moved the tent closer to take advantage of the radiant heat.

Jane cradled her son, rubbing the underside of her chin along his downy hair. Part of her couldn’t wait to get him back to civilization. Another part was terrified of what that return might find. There had to have been a reason for her to have endangered herself by traipsing off into the woods this late in her pregnancy. It had been not only irresponsible, but just plain dumb. She was lucky they were still alive.

So why had she done it? A nagging voice told her she didn’t want to know.

“Do you have kids?” she asked Gideon, eager to change the subject—if only in her own mind.

“Nope.”

“I’m assuming you’re not married?”

“Nope.”

“Would you ever want to be?”

“Nope.”

“Why so fast to respond?” She kissed the crown of her baby’s head. “I’ve only been a mother for a few hours, but this guy’s already got me wrapped around both of his tiny pinkie fingers.”

“Let’s just say I’ve been there, done that, and learned the hard way that marriage isn’t for me. The only logical conclusion is that parenthood would end with the same dismal results.” He set the foil food packet on the ground beside his log seat, then warmed his hands in front of the fire. He was tall and ruggedly appealing, but not traditionally handsome. His nose was crooked as if it may have been broken. His jaw was too wide and his cheekbones too high. That said, something about the way firelight danced in his brown eyes called to mind s’mores and made her wonder what kind of ugly breakup had resulted in such a bad attitude toward any sort of new relationship.

Skirting the direct issue, but still curious, she said, “Tell me about your parents.”

“Not much to tell.” He added a log to the fire. “They’ve passed.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged, staring into the dancing flames. “They were hardly the sort who inspired procreation or family unity. I’d never even celebrated Thanksgiving until joining the Navy. Before Mom split, we did usually have Christmas.”

“That’s sad. But back to your grim outlook on marriage, what happened?”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yes, but I won’t get a wink of sleep until you answer my question.”

He sighed. “If you must know, I’m divorced. My marriage ended so badly that my ex wanted her freedom even more than my assets. We had to have set a record for the world’s fastest split.”

Jane whistled. “Did you cheat on her?”

“Why would you assume that?”

“You said you were in the Navy. I thought you might have had a girl in every port.”

“I didn’t.” He pitched a log into the fire hard enough to send sparks flying.

“I believe you. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. How about you turn in. I’ll keep watch.”

“For what? Mountain lions? Bigfoot?”

“Look...” He clasped his hands. “Don’t take this personally, but I’d rather sleep outside.”

“Oh.” Why did his rejection hit her as if he’d turned down her invite to a Sadie Hawkins dance? “Sure. I understand.”

But she didn’t.

Worse yet, it wasn’t so much his rejection that had her super confused, but her silly reaction. For a woman who literally knew only two people in the world, to have one dismiss her stung.

* * *

GIDEON WOULD HAVE enjoyed nothing more than stretching out in his sleeping bag in Jane’s toasty tent. The night had turned breezy, and his fingers and nose felt cold enough to snap off. Just what he needed: to also be missing his nose. That’d be a big hit with the ladies.

Suddenly mad at the world, his ex, Missy, and most of all himself, Gideon kicked dirt into the fire.

Nights were always tough.

Jane’s incessant babbling and questions weren’t making this particular night any easier.

How long had it been since he’d shared a meal?

The part of their time when they’d exchanged small talk about favorite old movies had actually been pleasant. He would have never pegged her for an old-school sci-fi fan. Maybe once they got back to his cabin, he’d make popcorn. The two of them—make that three—could settle in for a movie marathon.

Stop.

He pressed the heels of his hands over his stinging eyes.

For the sake of argument, even if he was interested in hooking up, perky Jane was hardly his type. He was willing to bet that somewhere out there she had a husband desperately searching for her and their son.

Gideon would be wise to adopt his usual protector role, get her and her son safely delivered back to her family, then wash his hands of the whole situation.

In fact, as well as Jane had already recovered from giving birth, he figured Jelly Bean needed him more than she did.

“Gideon?” she called from the tent.

“Yeah?”

“What was that noise?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“Listen! It’s like a snort, then I heard a twig snapping. Maybe even a growl.”

Gideon heard nothing but the occasional owl and wind high in the pines.

“Could you please stay in here with us? Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep.”

It was her second time using the phrase. Had it occurred to her that if she stopped winking long enough to close her mouth and eyes that sleep might come? Shaking his head, Gideon banked the fire, then snatched up his sleeping bag. If Jane wanted him to stretch out alongside her, rather than spending his night upright on a log, who was he to argue?

Hours later, Gideon woke to golden sun warming his face.

Even better? The mesmerizing sight of Jane breastfeeding her son. Witnessing the nurturing act warmed a long-frozen place in his heart. But then he grew fully awake. Fully grounded in the knowledge that if his heart ever did thaw, it would be as gray and ruined as freezer-burned meat.

The woman was pretty, but the expression on her face when she held her baby transformed her into what he could only describe as ethereal. Then she turned to look at him.

Her faint smile faded to fear.

As if she’d forgotten he was even there, she looked up with a startled jolt. “G-good morning.”

“Hey.”

The few minutes it took for him rummage around in his bag, straightening his prosthetic without her seeing, took a lifetime. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

She apparently wished the same.

“Um...” Because he’d been on more pleasant bombing raids, he cleared his throat. “Give me a sec to get coffee in my system and I’ll launch a fresh search for the horse.”

She nodded. “I’ve got freeze-dried scrambled eggs if you’d like me to make breakfast?”

“Thanks. But you’ve got your hands full. I’ll tackle chow. You handle baby maintenance—speaking of which, he probably needs a fresh diaper.” Lord help him, now that he was on a roll, he couldn’t shut up. “I’ve got biodegradable paper towels that should work.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He unzipped his sleeping bag, then rolled onto his knees, maneuvering himself into a standing crouch that his height forced him to use all the way to the tent’s zippered door.

“You slept in your boots?”

Gideon froze. “Is that a problem?”

“No. I mean, I guess not. It’s just a little odd.”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion.” The blunt-edged statement had been intended to shut her up. It did. But instead of feeling satisfied, he felt ashamed.

Of course, she had no way of knowing he’d slept with his boots on for the purely prideful reason of keeping his most carefully guarded secret.

“Sorry.” Her ghost of a smile as she rubbed her son’s back should have warmed him, but it only served as a further reminder of his condition. Of the reason his entire life had fallen apart. “I was teasing. It’s touching—the fact that you care so much about protecting us that you fell asleep fully dressed. Thank you.”

Gideon grunted before tugging hard enough on the tent’s zipper to make the whole structure lean.

He had to get out of here.

Being around Jane and her baby only served as a reminder of the life he might have had.

He was one of the lucky ones. No pain. Full functionality. But somehow in the grand scheme of things, none of that mattered.

Some days he felt as if that grenade hadn’t just taken his leg, but his man card.

What he needed to feel better was to get Jane and her baby off his mountain. He’d help find her family, and that would be that. Like his ex, she’d be a memory best forgotten.

Outside, gulping fresh air, he made quick work of tossing her the paper towels, then starting a fire.

When the camp soon smelled of sweet woodsmoke, brewing coffee and dehydrated eggs mixed with onions and peppers, his stomach growled.

But then Jane emerged from the tent, carrying her son, spoiling not only his privacy, but his peace.

Gideon consoled himself by reasoning that within a few hours, Jane would no doubt have the cavalry out searching for her and her baby boy. When they found them, Gideon would once again be blessedly alone.

He was great with that.

Had to be.

Before his mind took any further control over his day, he cleared his throat, then gestured to her half of breakfast. “Eat up. Coffee’s almost done.”

“Thank you.” She ate from a neon-green plastic bowl she’d unearthed the previous night from her pack. It was the type of pricey camping frill that weekend trail rats would find necessary when the only purpose it served was adding extra supply weight. Gideon ate his freeze-dried meals straight out of the package. If he hadn’t had a horse, his cast iron pot weighed too much for hiking. But it was a luxury for cooking over a decent-sized campfire.

“Sadly, I’m off caffeine until I’m no longer eating and drinking for two.” She kissed her tiny son’s cheek—practically the only part of him visible past his thick sweatshirt swaddling. “But this sure is good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re spoiling me.” She nodded toward the bowl she’d rested on her knee. “But I’m not complaining. I get the feeling I’ve always enjoyed camping. Fresh air, wide-open spaces. The sharp scent of pines contrasting with sweet woodsmoke...” She punctuated her words with yet another faint smile. For someone who literally could have died not twenty-four hours earlier, she was awfully chatty. “Listen to me yammering on. Maybe I was a poet?”

“Doubt it. Not with all your fancy gear.” Finished with his meal, he chucked the waste in a plastic trash bag.

“Was that sarcasm, cowboy?”

“Not at all. But think about it. From your tent to your backpack to your bowl and fork—all REI or some other big-name sporting goods chain. Camping gear like that doesn’t come cheap. At the very least, we know you had a comfortable amount of disposable income.”

Her smile faded. “But what does that mean?”

He shrugged before using his shirtsleeve as a hot pad to take an old-fashioned percolator from the fire. Morning coffee usually smelled and tasted better on the trail, but today, Gideon feared no amount of caffeine or ambience would help his suddenly sour mood.

“You were the one who said it.”

“It was an observation. Nothing more.” After setting the coffee atop a stump remaining from turn-of-the-century timber cuts, he ducked into the tent, rummaging through his saddlebags for sugar. Some guys liked their beer. Others enjoyed smoking or myriad other vices. Gideon didn’t just like sugar, he needed it. And since he had plenty of friends with worse habits, he didn’t even try abstaining.

“Guessing you’ve got a sweet tooth?” Jane said after he’d removed the grounds from the percolator, flinging them into the weeds, then dumped a good portion of his sugar into the remaining black liquid.

Ignoring her, he found a stick to use for a stirring spoon.

“I’m just messing with you. No need to turn grumpy.”

“You sure are perky for a woman who’s lost.”

“But see? Since you found me, I’m not really lost at all.” Her words proved braver than the unshed tears shimmering in her gaze.

“Never mind. Sorry I brought it up.”

“It is a valid observation.” Her tone turned low and introspective. “Maybe we can use it to find a clue about who I am?”

“I’ll play along.” Gideon sipped more coffee.

“Hmm...” Her smile returned. “What kinds of jobs require a perky demeanor?”

“Kindergarten teacher?”

“Yes—but if I were a teacher, how would I have had time for a leisurely hike in the middle of a school day? Today is Thursday, right?”

“Wait—how can you know the day of the week, but not your own name?”

“Great question. I suppose I could have been on maternity leave?”

“True. But even if that were the case, I still don’t get why any pregnant woman would have been out for a strenuous hike in less than ideal conditions. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, right?” Her shoulders slumped, as if too many of her own questions left her deflated.

If he’d had a heart, he would have felt sorry for her. But honestly? Most days he had no emotions at all. He finished the coffee, then wiped the pot and its workings dry with a shop rag he kept stashed in his bags.

Once he’d finished, and she hadn’t budged from her spot on a log, Gideon cleared his throat. “You mentioned yesterday that you’d need a day of rest before we head back to civilization. But earlier, you looked like you’re getting around okay to me. How about we pack up and at least try going a few miles?” When she didn’t answer, he found himself blabbering on. “If you do—get tired—we can always stop and make camp. I just figure it would probably be best if...” If I were no longer around you and your baby.

The two reminded him too much of all he’d lost—correction, all his ex had thrown away.

“Sure. I’ll help pack.”

“Thanks, but I’d feel better if you and the baby stay by the fire.”

“I don’t mind.”

I do. After five minutes of bickering, Gideon finally convinced Jane that her energy would be best utilized on the hike out. He spent the better part of the next hour packing. In a perfect world, he’d have let the collapsed tent air-dry before folding and then rolling it, but there was no time.

As soon as they reached his cabin, he’d drive her and her son into town, drop them at the hospital, then he’d never see either again. Maybe he’d get lucky and catch a cell signal in that high mountain meadow where he’d once picked up an Arizona Cardinals game. Then he could call for help and let authorities sort out Jane’s mess.

Yes—that was by far the better option.

As his ex had so thoughtfully reminded him, he wasn’t fit to be around women or children.