The Millionaires' Club: David, Clint & Travis

Entangled With a Texan

SARA ORWIG

Locked Up With a Lawman

LAURA WRIGHT

Remembering One Wild Night

KATHIE DENOSKY

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Entangled With a Texan

SARA ORWIG

“WHAT’S HAPPENING IN ROYAL?”

NEWS FLASH – Strange things are afoot in Royal this month! Seems a woman collapsed the other night at our very own Royal Diner. Rumours are circulating that she had a baby and quite a load of cash on her. Who is she? Just what kind of trouble is this mysterious woman in? Unfortunately, our Jane Doe has not yet regained consciousness and the citizens of Royal can only speculate on the answers…

And what’s going on at Royal’s Millionaires’ Club? Some of our sexy gents were on hand to help Royal’s Jane Doe and continue to keep a close eye on her. This reporter has tried to get a statement from recently returned member David Sorrenson, but he refused to comment on the proceedings except to say the Club was handling things…

Is David on baby-sitting detail? Reliable sources have spotted the notorious playboy shopping for baby clothes with an infant in tow. It’s a good thing David has hired Marissa Wilder as the little girl’s nanny. Marissa knows a thing or two about babies and is more than happy to help him out. Of course, what single girl in this town wouldn’t jump at the chance to live under the same roof as this drool-worthy bachelor? Could this arrangement lead to something a bit steamier? Only time will tell…

SARA ORWIG

lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.

Look for Sara Orwig’s latest novel, Seduced by the Enemy, in Desire™ in June 2009.

Laura Wright, Kathie DeNosky, Cindy Gerard, Cathleen Galitz and Kristi Gold – it was fun to work with you. Also, thanks to Liz Schultz and special thanks to my editor, Stephanie Maurer.

One

Intuition told him that something was wrong. The last time he had felt this way was ten minutes before he had been pinned down by a sniper in a land far from home.

In spite of the good food and the great company, David Sorrenson shifted on his seat with an uncustomary restlessness. On more than one occasion, such hunches had saved his life, and he didn’t like the hunch he was getting now. He tried to shrug it off as ridiculous. He was home safe and told himself to stop worrying.

The cold night on the third of November made the weekly chilifest at the Royal Diner even more appetizing. While vintage rock and roll played on the jukebox, the enticing smell of Manny’s frying burgers permeated the local greasy spoon. Only a few booths were filled, and none of the red vinyl stools at the counter held customers.

In such a relaxed atmosphere, David couldn’t explain the nagging uneasiness he was experiencing. It was good to be in his hometown of Royal, Texas, to be through with Special Ops, out of the air force and back with old friends.

David laughed at a joke Alex Kent was telling. His friend’s green eyes sparkled. David had known Alex since they were kids. They were both thirty-five now, and their lives held a lot of similarities—no mother growing up, going all the way through school together, David involved with Special Ops and Alex, the FBI. Then, there were big differences. Alex, who drew the ladies like a flower draws bees, appeared completely comfortable with his life, while David didn’t know why lately he had felt as if he were at a crossroads in his.

“David, you look like you’re out in the south forty,” Clint Andover said, curiosity in his blue eyes.

“Nope, I’m right here, but I was in the south forty all day hunting steers and it’s good to sit and eat Manny’s chili and listen to you two.”

“Too bad Ryan couldn’t join us,” Alex remarked, referring to another of their friends.

“He’s got a hot date tonight,” David answered dryly, shifting his jeans-clad legs beneath the table. “He’s going to rival you with the ladies, Alex.”

The tiny brass bell over the front door tinkled, and David glanced that way. The door swung wide, causing a stir of the muslin curtains at the windows and allowing a blast of cold air to sweep into the restaurant. A woman clutching a baby and a diaper bag staggered into the diner.

“Oh-oh,” David muttered, already sliding out of the booth, bracing himself on his booted feet, aware in his peripheral vision that his friends were up and moving as well.

Beneath a tangled mass of long, dark brown hair, the woman’s head was bleeding—she looked as if she had fallen out of a car. Over a wrinkled blue-denim jumper, her bedraggled gray cloth coat was mud-spattered and torn. She was as pale as snow and looked on the verge of collapse.

Even as they rushed to her side, she began to fall. All three men reached for her.

Clint Andover caught her in his arms, and David grabbed the tiny blanket-wrapped infant. Alex took the bulging diaper bag and already was on his cell phone calling for an ambulance.

When they caught her and the baby, the woman’s eyelids fluttered. Large, thickly lashed violet eyes gazed up at them, and the only reason David heard her was because he was bending close as she whispered, “Don’t let them take… my baby… don’t let them get Autumn….”

Her eyelids fluttered again and closed as she went limp in Clint’s arms.

Swaddled in a blood-spattered, torn pink blanket, the baby began to cry. While David gently patted the infant, Clint lowered the woman to the floor. Manny charged up with a grease-spattered topcoat.

“Here’s a coat—”

While Clint took it to cover her, David continued patting the baby. To his surprise, the infant stopped crying, gazing up at him with wide, dark blue eyes.

“An ambulance is on its way,” Alex said, and Manny moved away. Giving them plenty of room, diners stared in frozen shock while the three men tried to take care of the woman and baby.

Alex leaned down to the woman and took something crumpled from her fingers. David watched Alex straighten out the card. Startled, David met Alex’s solemn gaze. When both men looked at Clint, a silent communication passed among them. David knew the other two also recognized the Texas Cattleman’s Club card that the stranger had clutched in her hand.

As a member of the prestigious social club, David knew, as well as his friends, that the Texas Cattleman’s Club was a facade. Its members worked together covertly on secret missions to save innocent lives. Tonight, two more close friends would have been with them, except Travis Whelan and Sheikh Darin ibn Shakir were out of the country on a confidential task. The woman lying on the floor of the Royal Diner was evidently here because she was seeking a Texas Cattleman’s Club member to help her.

She had a dark bruise on one cheek, and Clint had his handkerchief pressed against the wound on her head. In the distance a siren wailed.

All of the diners still stood back so David didn’t feel anyone could hear them if they talked softly. “She’s here for help from the club,” he said. “We can’t just leave her.”

“I agree,” Clint replied, and Alex nodded.

“We have to ride in that ambulance with her. And we can’t let them take the baby away from her,” David continued.

“I’ve glanced in this bag she was carrying,” Alex added quietly, with a grim note in his voice. “It has diapers and bottles and a little formula, but it’s also stuffed with money. A damn lot of big bills.”

David mumbled an expletive and tucked the baby into the crook of one arm. He hunkered down to take the woman’s wrist and feel her pulse. When he looked at her pupils, he saw one was dilated more than the other.

“She’s in bad shape,” David said, looking at Clint and Alex. “Her pulse is weak.”

“If something happens to her, we can’t let the state take the baby until we know who gave her that card,” Alex said.

“Call Justin Webb,” David suggested, thinking of a fellow club member physician. “Tell him to meet us at the hospital and let’s get him to check the baby. Even though babies aren’t his usual patients—as influential as he is at Royal Memorial, he can step in and help us.”

While Alex punched numbers, David said to Clint, “Take the baby.” With his pararescue training, David didn’t want to wait for the paramedics if the woman needed help. Before he could hand the infant to his friend, the bell over the door tinkled and two paramedics swept into the room. David recognized one of the medics and stood to speak to Carsten Kramer.

“Did anyone see what happened?” Carsten asked as the other paramedic knelt over the woman. David filled him in quickly while Clint put away his phone and nodded at David, indicating, to David’s relief, that Justin Webb would meet them at the hospital. David watched while the medic checked the woman’s airway, her pupils and her pulse.

Soon the paramedics had her hooked to an IV, and had an oxygen mask in place. They carefully put her on a transport board with a neck stabilizer and Clint Andover got permission to ride in the ambulance while David and Alex planned to follow in their cars. David passed the baby to a paramedic, feeling a peculiar reluctance to give up the infant even for a short time.

“Manny, we’ll get the bill later,” David called over his shoulder as he and Alex grabbed their jackets and rushed out behind Clint and the medics. Manny waved them away, following them outside and standing in his shirtsleeves, a spattered apron tied around his waist while he watched them.

Bright streetlights pushed back shadows and a sliver of moon hung in an inky sky above David’s car, which was speeding toward Royal Memorial Hospital. The ride seemed interminable, yet David knew the hospital was located within walking distance of the Royal Diner. Where had the woman come from? Who had given her the card? Questions plagued him during his dash toward the emergency entrance.

Carrying the diaper bag, Alex jogged to join him and together they rushed into the hospital just as the paramedics were wheeling the unconscious woman down the hallway through double doors. David and Alex met Clint and were told they would have to wait.

In less than three minutes, a familiar tall, brown-haired man, Justin Webb, M.D., came striding through the door and shook hands with all three men.

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” David said. “They’ve already taken the woman and baby to an examining room.”

“Who is she?” Justin asked.

David quickly filled Justin in on what had happened at the diner.

“Sounds like what started out as a peaceful night in Royal has turned out to be a big problem dumped on you guys,” Justin said quietly. He nodded at David. “Okay, I’ll see about the baby.”

“Thanks!” David exclaimed with relief. “Just let us take care of the baby until the mother can.”

Justin frowned. “If the mother can’t keep the infant for a few days, I’ll see to it that y’all can,” he stated, his solemn gaze sweeping the other three Texas Cattleman’s Club men before he turned to stride away.

“He’ll keep that promise if humanly possible,” David said, staring after the tall doctor who was one of the Southwest’s leading plastic surgeons and responsible for Royal Memorial’s Plastic Surgery/Burn Unit.

“He’s been through this with his own,” Alex added as the three men headed for chairs to sit and wait.

David knew that the others were as aware as he that Justin’s oldest child, Angel, now adopted, was left on his wife’s doorstep before Justin and Winona were married.

“Justin and Winona adore that little girl of theirs,” Clint said.

“I think Justin will do everything in his power to see to it that this baby doesn’t have to go to the Child Protective Services,” David added.

As the three men waited, Alex Kent pulled out his cell phone. “Even though we need to keep a low profile on this as much as possible, it’s only a matter of time until the police are notified. I’m surprised they’re not here now. I’ll call Wayne Vicente and talk to him because we’ve worked together before.”

“Good idea, Alex,” Clint said.

David leaned back and crossed his long legs, listening to his friend talk to the police chief. Even though they were the only people in the waiting room, Alex spoke in a low voice. David glanced at his friends. They were in jeans, Western shirts and boots just as he was—standard dress for chili night at the diner.

As soon as he finished the call, Alex put away his phone. “Vicente will be here shortly.”

“I’ve been thinking about the woman,” Clint said. “If they hold her here at the hospital—or if she’s unable to leave—with all that money and a head wound and the card, she must be in danger. When they put her in a room, I think one of us should guard her.”

“That’s good,” David said. “What about it, Clint? You’re our security guy, anyway.”

Clint shrugged. “I can arrange my schedule so I can stay. Sure. I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Alex said, shifting the diaper bag underneath his chair. “I’ll deal with the police and put the money in a safe place unless Vicente takes it. Or until the mother can manage on her own.”

“I can help you,” David volunteered.

“David, you take care of the baby,” Clint said. “One of us has to.”

“If it comes to that,” David answered, expecting the baby to be put in the room with the mother before the night was over.

The three friends fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts until Alex stood and crossed the room to the door. A uniformed man entered the waiting room, and David watched as Alex greeted the stocky, brown-haired police chief.

Talking briefly, the two men crossed the room. David stood to greet the chief.

“You remember David Sorrenson and Clint Andover,” Alex said.

“Sure do. Talked to you, Clint, what—was it just three or four days ago?” Chief Vicente said as he extended his hand.

“Something like that,” Clint answered, shaking the police chief’s thick hand.

“Here’s the bag with the money,” Alex said, and all four sat down while Vicente unzipped a turquoise-and-pink diaper bag. The police chief whistled. “The lady must be in a heck of a lot of trouble. This is a fortune.”

“We don’t know anything about her, but we want to help her,” Clint replied solemnly. “There must have been a reason for her to come to Royal.”

Chief Vicente rubbed his forehead. “Okay, Alex. I’ll file a report and let you know if I have to do anything else. If not, go ahead and put the money in a safe place and keep me posted on what’s happening. I’ll talk to the doc now and see about the woman and baby.”

“Thanks,” Alex said.

All three men stood, offered thanks, and then sat down as the chief left and headed through the door marked for hospital staff only.

It was another half hour before a nurse appeared, crossing the room to face the men. “Dr. Webb sent me to get you. Are you the men he wants to see?”

“We are,” Clint replied as they stood and followed her down a brightly lit hall into an examining room. She closed the door behind them and they were alone with Justin and the baby. Holding her, Justin was giving the baby a bottle.

“This little girl is healthy and hungry,” he said. “I’m glad you called me. This baby can’t be more than five to ten days old, because the umbilical cord hasn’t dried up yet. The mother is in a coma so she can’t care for her baby right now.”

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach over Justin’s gloomy news, David looked at the tiny baby, knowing he wasn’t the one to take charge of a baby. He tried to focus on Justin as the doctor continued talking.

“The doctors don’t have any identification. They don’t know how she got into town or where she came from. She wasn’t carrying a purse?” Justin looked at them questioningly.

David shook his head. “We don’t know any more than you do, Justin.”

“When they move her, I’m going to stay and guard her room tonight,” Clint said. “We think she’s in danger. And it looks like this is going to take longer than we thought. We expected her to clear up all the questions within the next few hours.”

“I don’t think so,” Justin replied. “They’ll put her in ICU, the Intensive Care Unit, but it’s still a good idea to stand guard. If someone was intent on harm, he could get to her. Her condition is listed as critical.”

“Oh, hell,” David exclaimed, remembering the desperate look in her violet eyes.

“Her doctor, Harry McDougal, thinks she suffered the blow to the head by a blunt instrument, so you’re probably right that she’s on the run, trying to get away from someone,” Justin continued.

“She called the baby Autumn,” Clint said, and all four men looked at the baby.

“Ah, little Autumn,” Justin said, smiling at the little girl in his arms. “Okay, guys. Clint’s staying at the hospital to guard our mystery woman.”

“I’m taking care of the money, and I’ll use my resources to find out what I can about her,” Alex explained.

“Okay,” Justin said. “So who gets little Autumn?”

“I guess I’m the guy, but I don’t know one thing about babies,” David admitted. “Any of you want to trade jobs?” he asked, a desperate feeling growing inside of him.

“We’ve got our assignments,” Alex answered, looking amused. “C’mon, David, it’s time you have some shaking up in that orderly life of yours.”

“Yeah, orderly,” David remarked, staring at the baby. “Last year I was getting shot at and feeling thankful just to be alive.”

“It’s quiet here in Royal,” Alex said. “You get the baby. Besides, neither one of us is a baby expert. Nope, we’ve got our assignments, and we’ll leave you with Justin now so you can get your instructions.”

“Hey! You two, wait a minute,” David exclaimed, feeling a momentary panic as his friends walked toward the door. “No kidding. I’ve never even held a baby.”

“Then it’s time you did,” Alex said. “We’ll head out to do our jobs and leave you to yours. We better plan a meeting, though.”

“Right. Tomorrow morning,” David replied darkly, staring at the bundle in Justin’s arms. All he could see was a small round head with wisps of light brown hair showing. “You guys meet me at the club at noon tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there,” Clint promised as the two walked away. “Thanks, Justin.”

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Alex added, and closed the door behind them.

“I don’t know what to do with a baby,” David repeated, his hands on his hips. “I’m trained for the stuff those guys are doing.”

“Just feed and change her and hold her and you’ll do fine,” Justin said.

“When do I feed her? Breakfast, lunch and dinner?”

“Where’ve you been living—under a rock? Don’t any of those gorgeous women you date have babies around?”

“No, they don’t. And there were none in my family,” David added tersely, wondering if there was any way to get out of keeping her.

“I imagine this little girl is going to want a bottle every couple of hours.”

“Every two hours!” David exclaimed, astonished and appalled and wondering how he was going to cope.

Justin looked as if he was struggling to keep a straight face. “Yes, David. Now, let me show you how to change a diaper and the umbilical cord dressing,” Justin said, turning to carefully place the baby on the examining table while David moved close beside him.

After fifteen minutes, Justin let go a guffaw. “Damnation, man! It’s simple. I’ll bet that even blindfolded you could put that rifle you carried, night scope and all, together in seconds and take it apart again, so I know you’ve got the dexterity and brains to catch on how to put these little diapers on this tiny little person.”

“A rifle is a hell of a lot simpler,” David snapped. “And she keeps kicking her legs all the time. A rifle just lies there.”

“You’ll get it. You made it through U. S. Air Force Special Ops training so I know you’ll get this. I seem to remember a degree from Harvard, too. So come on, pull your wits together and try again. And by the way, she’s being very good-natured about this. By now, most babies would be complaining loudly enough to be heard on the next floor. You’ve got a little doll here,” Justin added, his voice changing to a gentler note. “I miss having a baby.”

“Well, why don’t—”

“No way. Don’t even suggest it,” Justin said firmly, shaking his head. “Winona would throw me out the door. I can’t go home with a baby that we know we’d have to give up soon. Now, you change that diaper. Put all your Special Ops skills and your years of education into this.”

“I’m beginning to be sorry I called you. Nothing at Hurl-burt Field or anywhere else prepared me for this. Look how tiny she is. I’m scared I’ll hurt her.”

“No, you won’t. She isn’t going to break,” Justin replied with a grin. “Just be careful—like you were with your M16 or whatever lethal weapon you carried. David, I read somewhere that the Air Force Special Ops training dropout rate is almost eighty percent. That means only a little more than twenty percent make it. You’re one who did. Now, if you can do that, you can do this.”

“A baby is entirely different,” David said grimly through clenched teeth. “She won’t stay still.” He struggled with the diaper, finally getting it in place and watching, letting out his breath when it didn’t spring loose. “There!”

“Congratulations! You got it! I knew you could do it!” Justin exclaimed, slapping David lightly on the back.

“Can it, Webb,” David snarled, frowning. “Now, what else do I need to know?”

“Do you know how to mix her formula?”

“Her what?”

“Why does your question surprise me?” Shaking his head, Justin picked up a six-pack of cans. “Here’s formula. I’ll send you home with a goodly supply. The directions for mixing it are on the can. I’ll give you a supply of diapers and bottles— the hospital has plenty to send home with new mothers. And I guess you’re as new a mother as anyone could be.”

“She can’t just drink milk from the fridge?” David asked, holding up a can of formula and reading the instructions.

“No, she can’t drink milk from the fridge,” Justin replied patiently. “And there are other things. Tomorrow, you’re going to need to get the little girl some clothes, unless there are some things buried in the bag with all that money Alex was talking about.”

“Great balls of fire! How could a little tiny person require so much stuff and so much attention?” David exclaimed, shocked by all that was going to be required and wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“My friend, if you have her more than three days, you’re never going to want to tell her goodbye.”

“I don’t think so,” David said, eyeing the baby, whose eyes had closed. “Is she all right?”