West Texas Nights Page 6

He leveled a smoldering look at her then. “Not a saint, Laurie. You’d be wise to remember that before you start testing me.”

  “I have no intention of testing you,” she insisted, giving him a haughty look before going into the bathroom and closing the door emphatically behind her.

  When she came out again, she was wearing a too-big Dallas Cowboys T-shirt that reached to midthigh and brought a smile to his lips. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, it was the very same shirt he had given her on her last visit to Texas, a shirt he’d worn until it was faded and one she’d loved because it carried the scent of him. He wondered if she remembered that when she’d put it on or if she’d simply hoped that he’d forgotten.

  She turned out the light on her way to the bed, then slid beneath the covers. The mattress wasn’t what it could have been. It sagged under his weight, which eventually caused her to roll toward him despite her best efforts to cling to her own side.

  Harlan Patrick was still wide awake when she settled against him. He heard her soft exhale of breath and felt her snuggle just a little tighter. That was the second time in twenty-four hours when it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep his promise and keep his hands off of the woman he loved.

  Five

  A baby’s soft whimpers jarred Harlan Patrick out of a restless sleep that had lasted all of a half hour. For a minute he had no idea where he was or why a baby might be nearby. Then he felt the once familiar whisper of Laurie’s breath fanning across his cheek, felt the weight of her arm resting on his chest, sniffed the rose-petal scent of her perfume.

  It all came flooding back to him then, the tabloid, the trip to Nashville, the rush to Montana. Those whimpering cries, which he judged from experience with what seemed like a zillion nieces and nephews and second cousins, were about to turn into a full-throated yowling.

  Miracle of miracles, he recognized that those cries were coming from his daughter. His daughter. What an unexpected blessing.

  He eased out of the bed and padded over to the crib. At his arrival the baby seemed to take a deep breath and wait, as if trying to decide whether the whimpers had accomplished her goal or if more-strenuous cries were necessary. Blue eyes, shimmering with tears, stared solemnly back at him. He felt his heart turn over in his chest.

  “Don’t cry, precious girl. Daddy’s here,” he whispered as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms.

  “Daddy’s here,” he said again a little more emphatically as he carried her into the living room of the suite and settled into a chair with her, awestruck with the wonder of holding his own child in his arms.

  The whimpers subsided the instant he picked her up, but he figured it wouldn’t be long before they started up again unless he figured out what had brought them on in the first place. Again years of experience with other people’s kids kicked in.

  “So, what’s the deal?” he asked. “You wet? Hungry? Maybe both?”

  She seemed to study him quizzically, either trying to make sense of his words or trying to weigh whether or not to trust him. Suddenly that little rosebud mouth tilted into a crooked smile that came pretty darned close to breaking his heart.

  “Did I guess right?” he asked conversationally. “I’ll bet there’s a diaper bag around here somewhere, but what about a bottle? Any ideas?”

  She gurgled at him happily, as if imparting the information he’d requested. Unfortunately he didn’t have a clue how to interpret it.

  Tucking her against his shoulder, he searched for supplies. As he’d anticipated, the diaper was easy enough to come by and no challenge at all to put on. The bottle had him stymied. He wondered if room service was up to the challenge, or was this something for the invaluable Val, whose last name and room number he didn’t know?

  When he was about to concede that he was going to have to wake Laurie, he was struck by an inspiration. There was a tiny refrigerator in the room. Under normal circumstances it would be stocked with sodas and liquor and overpriced snacks, but maybe Laurie Jensen would rate a selection of baby bottles instead. He used the key that had been left lying on top of the refrigerator. Sure enough, there was a handful of bottles tucked inside.

  “See there, darlin’, Daddy’s not going to let you down. We just have one little problem left. Something tells me you won’t like this stuff if it’s cold as ice.”

  He glanced around, but there was no sign of a microwave. He could think of only one alternative. “Shall we take a little stroll down to the hotel kitchen and have it heated? I know it’s barely daybreak, but surely someone will be stirring down there.”

  Amy Lynn gurgled in apparent agreement.

  He propped the baby against a nest of pillows while he paused to tug on his boots. Even the momentary abandonment almost brought on a fresh bout of tears. The instant he had her back in his arms, she beamed at him approvingly, clearly pleased that he was catching on. He slipped quietly out of the room and carried her and the bottle downstairs.

  The only waitress on duty in the hotel restaurant at that early hour took one look at the two of them and rushed to help.

  Harlan Patrick held out the bottle. “Help? I know you’re probably not quite ready to open, but we have a little emergency here.”

  “No problem. I’ll have that heated right up for you,” she said, taking the bottle and giving him a less than surreptitious once-over. “Just have a seat at that table over there by the window. It’s got the best view in the room. The sun ought to be sneaking up over the mountains any minute now. You want a cup of coffee when I come back, sugar? It should be just about ready by now.”

  Harlan Patrick thought of the acid already churning in his stomach from last night’s caffeine overdose and shook his head. “Maybe a big glass of orange juice and some toast, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Coming right up,” she promised.

  She was back in no time with the juice, the toast and the heated bottle. His daughter took the bottle and began sucking lustily. He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Most definitely an Adams,” he observed. “We all have healthy appetites.”

  “She’s a beautiful baby,” the waitress said.

  “Isn’t she?”

  “And you’re a natural with her. She’s a lucky kid.”

  Harlan Patrick grinned. “Thanks.”

  “You give a holler if you need anything else.”

  He glanced at his daughter. “Oh, I think we’re all set now.”

  After the waitress had gone, he held Amy Lynn contentedly while she finished the bottle, staring at her in awe, still unable to believe he’d had a part in creating anything this perfect, this fragile. This time alone with her reassured him that his determination to make a place for himself in her life was well-founded. He’d always wanted kids, but it had been an abstract kind of longing, something he pictured in his future with Laurie. Amy Lynn was real, and the protective paternal sensations she stirred in him were overwhelming.

  Just when he was finishing up his juice and thinking it was time to go back upstairs, all hell broke loose. Security guards, trailed by a frantic Laurie, still wearing only the Dallas Cowboys T-shirt, along with Val and several men Harlan Patrick guessed were members of the band came charging into the dining room.

  “There,” Laurie shouted, pointing at him and practically quivering with outrage. “There he is. He’s trying to steal my baby.”

  Harlan Patrick reacted with stunned silence to the outrageous accusation.

  Even before the guards could react, Laurie rushed across the room and tried to snatch Amy Lynn from Harlan Patrick’s arms. He stared at her and held the baby out of reach.

  “Have you lost your mind?” he asked Laurie in a deceptively mild tone as men surrounded him.

  “You took her,” she accused. “You took her without my permission.”

  When one of the guards reached for him, Harlan Patrick shot a quelling look
in his direction that instantly had the man backing off.

  “Ms. Jensen, it looks like your baby’s just fine,” one guard suggested quietly. “He hasn’t gone anywhere with her.”

  “He just brought her down for a bottle,” the waitress chimed in. “What in heaven’s name is all the fuss about?”

  “He took her from my room,” Laurie whispered, sinking onto a chair beside him as the fight drained out of her. “I woke up, and my baby was gone.”

  Harlan Patrick finally understood her hysteria. In a fleeting, half-awake daze, she had thought he’d taken off with the baby. It was ironic given his own fears that she’d do the very same thing if given a chance. Still, he cursed himself for not thinking to leave a note. He’d never meant to scare her to death. He’d just assumed she wouldn’t awaken before he returned.

  “Darlin’, you knew she was with me,” he reminded her quietly. “You had to know no harm would come to her.”

  “Don’t you see?” she replied in a choked voice. “That’s why I was so terrified.”

  “You thought I’d run off with her,” he said, voicing his earlier assessment of her overreaction.

  She nodded, and this time when she reached for Amy Lynn, he placed the baby in her arms. Then he tucked a finger under Laurie’s chin and forced her to face him. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her chin wobbled.

  “Listen to me,” he commanded gently. “No matter what happens between us, no matter how angry I get or how frustrated, I will never just walk away with Amy Lynn. You have my solemn vow on that. Whatever happens, the two of us will decide it together, okay?”

  Her gaze locked with his. “You swear it?”

  “On my honor.”

  A sigh shuddered through her then. One glance at Val was all it took for the security guards and the band members to melt away, leaving the three of them alone—Harlan Patrick, Laurie and the baby. Even the friendly waitress seemed to know enough to steer clear.

  “You okay?” Harlan Patrick asked eventually.

  Laurie gave him a halfhearted smile. “Just embarrassed over the fuss I caused.”

  He grinned. “If you’re feeling that way now, then there’s no telling how you’re going to react when you realize you’re in the middle of a public restaurant wearing nothing but a big ol’ T-shirt.”

  She glanced down at herself and moaned. Then she scowled at him. “This is your fault, you know.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I know. And I am sorry. The baby was hungry and I wanted to get her fed without waking you. I thought I was being clever to think of coming down here to get her bottle warmed.”

  “A noble intention,” she agreed, “but then yours usually are. That’s never meant you couldn’t find some way to turn my life upside down in the process.”

  He nodded at that, too. “It’s been my pleasure,” he said with a grin. “Yours, too, if I remember correctly.”

  “Sometimes,” she conceded. “But we’re supposed to be responsible adults now. We have a child, for goodness’ sakes.”

  It was exactly the opening he’d been waiting for. “I’m glad you can see that. I have a suggestion.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let’s prove just how responsible we are. Let’s get married.”

  The suggestion was made impulsively. Harlan Patrick had no idea when he’d reached any decision that marriage was the route they should take. If he was startled by the words coming out of his mouth, though, Laurie looked as if he’d suggested they go snowboarding stark naked.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, hitching her chair backward to get away from him as if his very nearness was somehow threatening.

  “Don’t what?”

  “You are not going to manipulate me into marrying you, Harlan Patrick Adams,” she said with fire in her eyes.

  “I wasn’t aware I was manipulating. I thought I was proposing.”

  “In this case, it’s the same difference.”

  “And you say the stubborn genes are all on the Adams side,” he taunted. “Laurie, let’s be logical for a minute. Amy Lynn is mine. I want her to have my name.”

  “She already does,” she confessed in a whisper.

  This time he stared. “What?”

  “I put your name on the birth certificate. I never wanted there to be any doubt about that, at least. So, you see, marrying me would be superfluous.”

  He grinned at the airy declaration. “Is that what you call being my wife? I could take offense.”

  “You know what I meant,” she retorted with a defiant jut of her chin.

  He debated arguing with her, then decided to leave well enough alone. He might have lost the battle, but the war could be won another day.

  “Okay,” he conceded. “I can see I’m not going to get anywhere this morning. Just think about it. We have plenty of time to decide. I’m not going anywhere.” He shot her a wicked look. “You, however, might want to find out if there’s a back way out of here. Otherwise the next tabloid picture you’re in is likely to be a whole lot more revealing than either of us would like.”

  * * *

  Laurie’s nerves didn’t settle down until after she was back in the suite and had spent an hour with Amy Lynn tucked securely in her arms. Those few minutes before she’d found the baby downstairs with Harlan Patrick had been the most terrifying of her life. Even though she knew him as well as she knew herself, she had wondered for just an instant if he was so furious with her that he’d be capable of kidnapping their baby.

  Not that it would have been all that hard to trace him, she admitted. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he would make a beeline for White Pines to show his daughter off to his family.

  His proposal on the heels of that upset had been enough to thoroughly shake her. It was difficult enough to cope with Harlan Patrick when he was angry and unreasonable. It was even more difficult to fend him off when he was being quietly reasonable and persistent.

  Of course, this was hardly the first time the question of marriage had come up between them. She smiled as she recalled the first time he’d asked, way back in high school on the night of his senior prom. They’d been in the back seat of a convertible, staring up at the stars. She’d turned him down then and every time since.

  Even in high school, when she had been starry-eyed and madly in love with him, she had known instinctively that she would never be content as his wife unless she had really tried to make a career out of her music. He had never understood how much it meant to her, nor why she couldn’t be happy just singing in a local club every now and then or maybe just with the church choir. He simply hadn’t comprehended her ambition and her desperate hunger for success.

  Sometimes she hadn’t fully understood the need herself, though she suspected it had a lot to do with the hand-to-mouth existence she and her mother had led. She’d wanted to be independent enough to survive on her own without relying on the whims of a man—even Harlan Patrick—to provide for her needs.

  Harlan Patrick had everything in the world he wanted right there in Los Piños, Texas. His ranch. His family. She wanted the world and the reassurance of having her own bank account, piled high with money she’d earned herself, money she knew she could replace herself if the need arose.

  She glanced across the room to find his gaze on her. He was sprawled in a chair, his expression speculative, as if he were trying to puzzle out which buttons to push to get her to come around to his point of view. It was disconcerting, because she knew that sooner or later he would figure it out. He always had. The only time she’d ever said no to him and stuck to it was on the subject of marriage. With Amy Lynn to consider and more money in the bank than she could ever spend, she wasn’t sure how long it would be before she gave in on that, as well.

  “You still mad at me?” he asked finally.

  “No.”

  “I really d
idn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I know that.”

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

  Laurie glanced at her watch. “We need to pack up and be on the bus in an hour. The club I’m playing tonight is a couple of hours from here. That’ll give us time to get there, set up, test the sound system and rehearse for an hour or so.” Even though she suspected she already knew the answer, she asked, “What about you?”

  “Where you go, I go.”

  She sighed. “For how long, Harlan Patrick?”

  He gave her an all too familiar stubborn look. “As long as it takes.”

  “What about the ranch?”

  “Daddy’s there and Grandpa Harlan. They can get by without me for a while.”

  She hesitated, then said, “I spoke with your grandfather the other day.”

  His eyes widened with surprise. “How did that happen?”

  “I called to see if you knew about the tabloid,” she admitted ruefully. “Based on what he said about you taking off for parts unknown, I gathered you did, but he didn’t.”

  “He probably does by now. He probably started asking questions the instant he hung up. Mama and Sharon Lynn no doubt gave him an earful.”

  “They know, then?”

  “Oh yeah, they know. Sharon Lynn was the one who brought the paper out to the ranch. They were scheming to buy up every copy in town and burn them, when I walked in.”

  “Your sister used to tolerate me well enough because she knew you cared about me, but she must really hate me now,” Laurie said with unmistakable regret. For so many years all she had wanted was to fit in, to be accepted by this wonderful, loving family.

  “Let’s just say I’d be careful about ordering any food from her next time you stop by Dolan’s,” Harlan Patrick told her with a crooked grin exactly like the baby’s. “Big sisters have a way of carrying loyalty to extremes.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said, unable to hide the trace of envy in her voice. “No sisters, no brothers. That’s why I always loved going to the ranch with you. Even though it was just you and Sharon Lynn in your family, the extended Adams family was so huge and rambunctious.”