The Maverick's Baby-In-Waiting

Chapter Three

Your baby will be soothed to sleep in this must-have bouncer that features gentle vibration and sweet lullabies.

Mikayla’s gaze moved from the description on the box to the price tag. Two hundred ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents. Her heart plummeted. Baby Bonanza, a baby-supplies emporium in Kalispell, was supposed to have reasonable prices, but last week, when she’d driven out here to buy a crib, she’d been shocked by the cost and had to start a layaway account. She certainly couldn’t afford this bouncer. Unless she took the packs of diapers, pajamas and onesies and the infant car seat and snap-in stroller base out of her cart.

Well, she already had a built-in bouncer that featured vibration and sweet lullabies: herself. There was a rocker right in her room at Sunshine Farm, and she’d hold her baby against her chest, gently rock the little one and sing Brahms’s “Lullaby” herself. Who needed a bouncer for three hundred bucks?

I wish I could buy you everything, she said silently to her baby. She didn’t have much in savings, and since her job at the day care had ended in June, she’d been unemployed for a couple months. Trying to get a new job when she was seven months pregnant seemed foolhardy, but she really had no choice. Perhaps she could find a job where she could bring her newborn.

Right. Because every workplace wanted a crying baby interrupting things.

You will figure it out, Mikayla. Trust in yourself.

She reached into her purse for the list of baby must-haves that Baby Bonanza had stacked at the front of the shop.

Crib. Bassinet. Bouncer. Play mat. Bottles. Wipes. Wipes warmer. Diaper master...

Apparently, a diaper master was a special little garbage pail in which you threw out diapers. Wouldn’t a regular old garbage can with a lid work? For a quarter of the price?

“Ooh, I’m definitely getting that deluxe bouncer, Mom,” a very pregnant woman said as she and an older woman walked up behind Mikayla. She was eyeing the model that had given Mikayla sticker shock. “Only the best for my little Arabella,” she added while patting her belly. She looked to be around seven or eight months along.

“That one only vibrates and plays music,” her mother said, reading the description on the side of the box. She pointed at another box on the shelf above. “This double-deluxe model says it vibrates and gently massages the baby, a must when cranky. It’s only fifty dollars more. Worth every penny.”

“Oh, definitely that one,” the expectant mom said. Her mother lifted the even more expensive model into the cart, which already had a lot of items.

Only fifty dollars more. Jeez. That’s two weeks’ worth of layaway payments for me.

It was just stuff, she reminded herself. And not what mattered.

An image of her own mother popped into her mind. Widowed when Mikayla was a teenager, Hazel Brown had been a wonderful mother, and Mikayla had lost her just three years ago to a car accident. How she wished her mother was here now, by her side, explaining things, telling her what to expect, telling her everything would be okay. At least she knew her mama was looking down on her, watching over her like a guardian angel.

Chin up, she moved away from the expensive bouncers. The next aisle was filled with baby blankets and crib sheets that were so adorable her heart lifted again. She could afford one package of sheets and a waterproof liner. After all, that was what laundry three times a day was for.

Smiling, she put into her cart a lemon-yellow sheet with tiny pastel animals, along with a waterproof pad, then turned and headed for the checkout, but her gaze was caught by the cradle and crib aisle. Last week she’d put a beautiful white spindle crib on layaway. She stared at the floor model, struck by the fact that in just a couple months, the crib would be in her room at Sunshine Farm, her baby nestled inside on little animal-print sheets. She smiled at the rocking bassinets, one of which she’d also put on layaway, and the toddler beds in the shapes of race cars and butterflies. She couldn’t even imagine her baby walking and talking and sleeping in a big-kid bed. That seemed so far down the road.

“Oh, how adorbs!” another expectant mom said—this time to her doting husband, who was pushing their cart with one arm around his wife. Their gold wedding rings gleamed in the dimly lit aisle.

Mikayla glanced over to see what was so “adorbs,” and oh, God, it was. A plush baby blanket, hand knit, with little bulldogs on it. Each corner of the blanket had little chewing triangles for when the baby started teething.

“Aw, Oliver, these bulldogs look just like our Humphrey.” Into the cart the forty-five-dollar baby blanket went. Mikayla knew the price because she’d ogled the blanket not two minutes ago.

And there she was, the hugely pregnant single woman with no ring, no husband, and not able to buy a quarter of what she wanted for her child.

She sighed and was about to turn toward the checkout when a gorgeous man appeared at the other end of the aisle.

The gorgeous man she’d last seen running out of Daisy’s Donuts. This morning he wasn’t wearing a suit, as he had been yesterday. Today he was wearing sexy jeans, a navy blue Henley shirt, the zillion-dollar belt buckle and cowboy boots. His thick, silky blond hair was movie-star perfect, even though he probably hadn’t done a thing to it.

Then suddenly he froze as he noticed Mikayla at the end of the aisle. “Mikayla?” He grinned. “Well, I guess if I’m going to run into you anywhere, it would be in a baby store.”

She knew why she was here. But why was Jensen here? He wasn’t a father, was he?

“Buying a little relative a gift?” she asked.

“My brother’s nephews and niece,” he said. She was momentarily mesmerized by his blue eyes and the slight crinkles at the corners, his strong nose and square jawline. “They’re celebrating being potty trained with a party today, but I have no idea what to buy them as a gift.”

She was trying to remember back to the bachelor/bachelorette party and the Jones brothers she’d met. “Oh, that’s right—Hudson is married to Bella and she’s Jamie Stockton’s sister,” she said. “I remember meeting Jamie and his wife. They have two-year-old triplets. They potty trained three babies at once? That’s one heck of an achievement. Definitely partyworthy.”

He grinned. “I don’t doubt it. So I want to get them something worthy. Any ideas?”

“Hmm,” Mikayla said, glancing around. What would be just right for two-year-olds? “I noticed some wonderful educational toys and lots of great electronics in that aisle,” she said, pointing. “And those big stuffed animals are so adorable,” she added, gesturing at the three-foot-tall giraffe with a little seat built in. “Oh, I love those toddler beds in the shape of a race car and a butterfly.”

“Sold,” he said as his gorgeous blue eyes lit on the beds.

“What? Really?” She’d noticed the very high price tags when she was here last week. The beds cost a small fortune. Times three? A big fortune. The cost of things clearly didn’t faze him. When you were a Jones millionaire, it was probably like buying a cup of coffee at a gas station. Barely a blip on the budget.

She wondered what it would be like not to have a budget. But she truly couldn’t imagine.

“Do two-and-a-half-year-olds sleep in those kind of beds, or would they still be in cribs?” he asked.

“They’re probably just the age to move into big-kid beds,” she said.

“Perfect. I knew you were the woman to ask.”

“Ha, I have no idea what a newborn needs, let alone a toddler. I’m seven months along and just learning on the go. There must be a million books written about what to expect when you’re pregnant, but until I’m actually holding a newborn and need to do the zillions of things infants require...”

“I suppose you’ll hire a baby nurse,” he said. “That should make things easier.”

She almost laughed. Baby nurse! Was he kidding with that one? As if she could afford another crib sheet in addition to the one in her cart, let alone a living, breathing, experienced baby nurse to care for her infant during the night while Mikayla got eight hours of interrupted sleep.

“Uh, I’ll be the baby nurse. And nanny. And chief bottle washer.”

He smiled. “One-woman operation, huh?”

Her own smile faded. “Yeah. Just the way it is.”

Her heart pinching, Mikayla wanted to flee and stay at the same time. That was a weird dichotomy.

“So what are you buying today?” he asked, glancing in her cart.

“Just a crib sheet and some pajamas. I guess I can’t help window-shopping for the nursery I’d love to have, but that’s silly when I’m staying at Sunshine Farm and don’t know when I’ll move into my own place.”

He tilted his head and stared at her. “Sunshine Farm? Isn’t that Luke and Eva’s ranch house?”

She could feel her cheeks turning pink. She was pregnant and didn’t even have her own place.

“That property is gorgeous,” he said. “I love the big yellow barn. I think I heard my brothers say the Stocktons intend to turn the place into a guest ranch.”

Mikayla nodded. “I’m trying to be a very good guest so that I don’t ruin their fantasy for them. But when the baby comes...” Her eyes widened and she grinned. “I can’t believe they haven’t told me to scram before my due date, but they apparently like the idea of a baby in the house.”

He winced. Slightly, but he did. She knew what he was thinking: Who’d want to wake up in the middle of the night to a baby wailing? Or change a diaper—ever? Mikayla wondered if he’d feel differently if it were his own baby, but she figured he’d hire a day and night nurse if he ever had a kid of his own.

“Are you planning on staying in Rust Creek Falls permanently?” he asked.

“I really don’t know,” she said, quite honestly. “I’m kind of...figuring things out right now.” Could the floor open up and swallow her and her cart? He’d probably never had to figure out the basics of life—like a place to live and money to buy a crib. Move along, Mikayla, she told herself. There’s no sense even making this man’s acquaintance. You live on different planets. “Well,” she said with what probably looked like a forced smile. “I’d better get going. Nice to see you again, Jensen.”

Too bad pulling her eyes off him was so hard. She could stand here and look at this man all day and night.

“Nice to see you again, too,” he said, kind of wistfully, if she wasn’t mistaken. Huh. Once again, Mikayla the Amazing Mind Reader had a good idea what he was thinking: Shame she’s pregnant. She could be showing me the sights around town, including lovers’ lane, where we could have had some fun.

Was there even a lovers’ lane in Rust Creek Falls? As if Mikayla would know.

“Can I help you?” a store employee asked as she walked over, smiling at Mikayla and Jensen. “Oh, and congratulations, you two. Mommy and Daddy are getting their nursery in order before the big day, I see.”

Mikayla turned beet red.

Jensen practically choked.

“Oh, we’re not together,” Mikayla rushed to say. Why do I always feel the need to explain? she wondered. For a second there, she’d been someone’s wife, her baby had a father and she was setting up her nursery in advance of the big event. Just the way she’d dreamed.

The sales clerk cringed. “Sorry. I’m always putting my foot in my big mouth. You could have been brother and sister, too.”

“We’re definitely not,” Jensen said. “I’ll take three race car beds,” he added to the clerk. “And they must be delivered this afternoon by one. Oh, and I’d like the beds personalized with the names across the fronts. Jared, Henry and Katie.”

“Did you want the butterfly bed for Katie?” the salesclerk asked, pointing at the pink-and-purple bed.

Jensen shook his head. “Apparently, Katie loves cars just like her brothers, so a race car it is. Her favorite color is orange, so maybe her name can be stenciled in orange.”

The manager nodded. After Jensen gave the delivery information, she said, “I’ll make sure everything is correct and delivered with bows by 1:00 p.m. to the Stockton residence in Rust Creek Falls.”

“Thanks,” Jensen said. Then he turned to Mikayla. “And thanks for your help. I never would have thought to buy the beds. They’re perfect.”

She managed a smile. “Well, ’bye,” she said too brightly and practically ran down the aisle to the checkout.

Crazy thing was, the moment she stopped, she missed being around him.

* * *

Well, the woman was definitely not trying to find herself a husband—and a rich one, at that, Jensen thought. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

He wondered why. Most single women flirted with him outright, making no mistake of their interest. Mikayla Brown’s interest was less than zero.

As he watched her wheel her cart to the checkout, Jensen stood about fifty feet away, partially blocked from view by a giant stuffed panda he pretended interest in buying. He was trying to come up with some reason to stall her, to talk to her more, maybe offer to take her for coffee—decaf—or an early lunch.

Why, though? he asked himself. The woman is about to have a baby! And the last thing Jensen planned to be was anyone’s daddy. Maybe in ten years. Or never. But definitely not in a couple of months.

“I’d like to put twenty-five dollars down on the crib I have on layaway,” he heard Mikayla say to the cashier. “And I’d also like to add this car seat and snap-in stroller to my account.”

A crib and car seat on layaway. Jesus. He knew not everyone could afford everything they wanted right then and there, and racking up debt on credit cards wasn’t a great idea, but these seemed to be necessities for a newborn. It killed him.

When she left the store with her meager purchase of a crib sheet and two pairs of cotton pajamas, grand total $24.52, he walked up to the cashier.

“I’d like to pay off the balance of Mikayla Brown’s layaway items,” he said. “The woman who just left.”

“Oh, she sure is lucky to have a guardian angel,” the woman said. She typed in Mikayla’s name into the computerized cash register. “Ah, the crib, a bassinet, diapers, wipes, a changing table and pad, and an infant car seat with a snap-in stroller.”

Just the basics, Jensen realized. He could do a lot better than that for her. “Does she have a wish list?”

“Oh, yes,” the woman said. “Helps our expecting mothers keep track of what they’d like, particularly for registries for baby showers.”

“I’ll pay off the layaway and also take everything on the wish list,” Jensen said.

The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Wow, you’re like a summertime Santa Claus.” She punched in a bunch of keys. “I can have everything delivered to Ms. Brown’s address—Sunshine Farm in Rust Creek Falls—by late this afternoon. We have everything in stock here, and instant delivery is how we keep folks from going to the big-box store outside town.”

“Thanks for all your help,” Jensen said.

He felt much better as he exited the store into the bright August sunshine. He couldn’t have Mikayla Brown, but he could help her out.

He lifted his face as the refreshing breeze ruffled his hair. This was a perfect morning for a long ride. Walker kept horses and had told Jensen to take one out whenever he wanted. A ride would clear his head, hopefully ridding it of Mikayla’s beautiful face and her not-so-great life situation. He had to forget her.

So why the hell couldn’t he?

“Last place I’d ever expect to see you, Jensen,” called out a familiar voice.

Jensen turned to find his brother Walker and Walker’s wife, Lindsay, exiting their car in the parking lot of the baby store and heading toward him.

“I came out here to pick up some gifts for the potty party,” he said. “Try saying that five times fast.”

Lindsay laughed, tossing her long brown hair behind her shoulder. “Us, too. Oh, Jensen, I keep meaning to tell you. I’ve heard through the grapevine that several women in town are very interested in meeting you. Everyone keeps asking me, ‘Is he single? Seeing anyone? Should I tell my sister to go for it?’”

Walker shook his head with a grin. “I told you, Lindz. They’re all wasting their time.”

She playfully socked her husband in the arm. “Oh, come on. Until I hear it from the man himself, I won’t believe you. Who wouldn’t want to meet the love of their life?”

No wonder Lindsay was such a good lawyer. She put it right out there. No escaping the truth.

“I’m open to a dinner out or seeing the sights around the county,” Jensen said. “But beyond that—no. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Every time a Jones man says that, one finds him,” Lindsay said. “So beware.”

Jensen froze as the image of Mikayla Brown putting two mere packages of baby pajamas on the checkout came to mind.

“Told you,” Walker said to his wife. “Look up the word bachelor in the dictionary and you’ll find a little photo of my kid brother—the ladies’ man Jensen Jones.”

“Ladies’ man?” Jensen said on a laugh. “I haven’t taken out one woman since I’ve been in Rust Creek Falls.”

“Yeah, because Dad’s been after you to get the hell out of here before some woman gets you to put a ring on her finger.”

“Don’t you have three stuffed animals to buy or something?” Jensen grumbled at his brother.

Lindsay cracked up. “We most certainly do. Come on, Walker. You’ve been ragging on your baby brother since he was born.”

“I owe you, Lindsay,” Jensen said.

He wasn’t anti-commitment in general. Just for himself. And maybe even just for now. For the next few years, at least. Maybe when he was forty he’d settle down.

But as he watched his brother and his wife walk hand in hand into Baby Bonanza, once again he was struck by how alone in the world he was. He’d never really felt that way before, except when Adrienne betrayed him.

What in the hell was going on with him?

Chapter Four

“Mikayla, your fairy godmother is here,” Eva called out from downstairs.

Huh? Mikayla got up from her bed, where she’d been making a list of possible jobs she could apply for after the baby was born, and glanced out the window. A huge Baby Bonanza truck was in front of the farmhouse.

She headed downstairs to find Eva standing at the front door, watching two burly guys taking out a giant box marked White Spindle Crib.

That’s weird, she thought. That’s the crib I put on layaway.

“Eva! Did you and Luke buy me that crib?” Mikayla asked, stunned.

Eva shook her head. “Wasn’t me. And besides, you told me you planned to keep the baby bedside in a bassinet.”

But then who? Amy? Maybe her cousin Brent?

The delivery guys leaned the box on the porch, then went back for another box, this one a deluxe bouncer—the exact one she’d ogled and had on her wish list. Wait—what? The porch was soon full of baby paraphernalia—all items that looked very familiar.

“Um, Eva, this is bizarre. This is everything from either my layaway account or my wish list at Baby Bonanza.”

“Rich relative?” Eva asked.

“Not a one,” Mikayla said. She knew Brent loved her, but not this much, and besides, he could barely keep himself afloat.

The burlier delivery guy held a clipboard and walked over to Mikayla. “I assume you’re Mikayla Brown. No offense,” he added, gesturing at her huge belly.

She smiled. “Well, I am the likely recipient of all this, but I didn’t order any of it. I mean, it’s all stuff from my layaway and wish list, but I owe a ton more on layaway and the wish list is exactly that—just wishful thinking. There must be some mistake.”

The guy glanced at the order form on his clipboard. “Nope. No mistake. Paid in full, including delivery and our tip. You can thank—” he scanned the sheet “—Jensen Jones.”

Eva gasped.

Mikayla’s mouth dropped open. What?

“Where should we place everything?” the delivery guy asked. “The order includes white-glove assembly.”

“Of course it does,” Eva said with a grin. “I take back what I said, Mik. You don’t have a fairy godmother. You have a fairy godfather.”

Jensen Jones, any kind of father? Ha. Mikayla couldn’t see it. Hadn’t he run screaming—well, maybe not screaming—out of Daisy’s Donuts when he realized the woman he was trying to pick up was pregnant?

But hadn’t he also driven all the way to Kalispell to buy presents for his brother’s triplet toddler nephews and niece? Granted, there wasn’t a dedicated baby shop in Rust Creek Falls, but he could have bought three stuffed animals at Crawford’s General Store and called it a day. He hadn’t.

She bit her lip and recalled how she’d dashed off to the checkout, needing to put a little distance between them. He must have overheard her paying another week on her layaway, then gone and bought everything for her—including all the stuff she’d added to her wish list, items she’d never spend money on. A wipes warmer? Come on.

“Why would Jensen Jones have bought me all this?” Mikayla said more to the air than to Eva.

“Oh, I have a few ideas why.” Eva turned to the delivery guy. “Upstairs, first room on the right.”

“Wait a minute,” Mikayla said, holding up a hand. “I can’t accept this. Any of it.” She glanced at the deluxe bouncer that had almost had her in tears in the store. The huge container of wipes and the crazy wipes warmer so the baby’s tush wouldn’t startle from a chill. The diaper pail. The beautiful white spindle crib on the side of the giant box. The Exersaucer. A play mat. Crib mobile. Bassinet. Changing table with a deluxe pad. The lovely pale yellow baby carriage. The blanket with the bulldogs. And so many onesies and pajamas.

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