Randall Wedding
Judy Christenberry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing fulltime. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy is a native Texan.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

Russ Randall glanced at his watch. It was only two in the afternoon, but the sun was long gone, buried behind the clouds that had brought the snow. It was early December in Wyoming, and snow wasn’t unusual, but this storm had the makings of a fierce blizzard. He hoped he could make it home.

Normally the drive from this point was half an hour, but he’d be lucky if he made it in an hour. The heater was on full force, but he could feel the cold creeping into the truck.

He leaned forward over the steering wheel, pressing for every advantage. Then he slowly hit the brakes, coming to a halt opposite the car sitting at an awkward angle in the ditch. He had to make sure no one was stuck in there before he continued on his way. Ignoring a stranded motorist was like signing his, or her, death warrant.

He undid his seat belt and reached for the door handle just as his passenger door was jerked open. He couldn’t even get a word out before a furbundled person shoved in a baby carrier and then slammed the door, remaining out in the storm.

“What the…?” Russ began, when he heard a small sound from the carrier. If he’d avoided anything the past year and a half, and he had avoided a lot, he’d avoided babies. Even among his family, no one asked him to hold their babies. They understood.

He heard the same sound again and he peeled back the covering blanket to discover the sweetest face he’d ever seen.

He stared at the beautiful baby. Finally he forced himself to move, reaching for the middle seat belt to strap the carrier in place.

Movement reminded him of the person outside. He zipped up his coat and climbed out of the cab to discover that several suitcases and boxes had been loaded in the back of the truck. He went around his vehicle to the car in the ditch, a Cadillac with New York plates. A couple more boxes were in its open trunk.

He assumed the person was a woman, for she was wrapped in a full-length mink coat and wore a muffler wrapped around her head. He put the rest of the boxes on his truck bed. Then he opened the front passenger door and bundled the woman inside. She seemed to be resisting, but he was anxious to be on his way. The blizzard was worsening.

Once he was back behind the wheel, he opened his coat a little to let in the warmth from the heater. He turned to suggest his passenger do the same and he discovered a beautiful woman, her mink coat shoved off her, her cheeks red with heat, her eyes glittering.

“You’re ill!” he exclaimed, recognizing the signs of fever. “Uh, keep your coat on.”

“Too hot,” she muttered, not looking at him.

“Does the baby need anything?”

“No, Angel’s fine.”

Russ wasn’t going to argue with that. He decided his job was to get these two stranded ladies to town.

He tried to keep focused on his driving, but he couldn’t help looking at his passengers occasionally. He’d avoided the company of all women, and in particular babies, the past two years. Abby, his wife, had been pregnant with their child when she died.

He knew he’d never marry again, so he’d never fulfill his dream of children. His family had babies. His twin brother, Rich, and his wife, Samantha, had a little boy. His cousin Toby and his wife, Elizabeth, had two babies. Tori, his cousin and partner in the accounting firm, had a little boy.

He would never have children.

That was why he avoided them. He did his work. That was all there was in his life. He was satisfied with that.

It suddenly occurred to him that he was going to be stuck with the woman and the baby. The town of Rawhide would be shut down, everyone locked safely in their homes. And they wouldn’t come out until the storm ended.

Maybe he could make it to the ranch where his parents and aunts and uncles lived. The women there could take care of this lady and her beautiful baby. And they would, if he could get there.

But the ranch was on the other side of Rawhide, a good half-hour drive. Making it there was impossible.

“I need something to drink,” she muttered fuzzily.

He took a good look at her. Her fever still seemed high. He thought she was referring to water, but he didn’t have any with him. “You’ll have to wait just a little while. I’ll get you something to drink as soon as we reach town.”

She didn’t appear to have heard him.

He reached over and felt her face. Lord have mercy, she was on fire! Was he going to have to take her to Jon’s? Tori had married Jon Wilson, the new doctor, last year. He’d come to replace Doc, intending to stay only four years. Tori took care of that, he thought with a smile.

Russ caught the shadow of a building through the snow. Had he reached the outskirts of town? Not that Rawhide was big. There was no hotel, not even a motel. They’d had a bed-and-breakfast for a couple of years, but no longer. So he was stuck with his passengers.

He pulled his pickup to a stop right beside the stairs that led up to his apartment over the accounting office he and Tori shared. He drew a deep breath and tried to relax his muscles. Then he said, “We’re here.”

No response. He lifted the blanket from the baby. He could see the baby breathing, but the infant’s eyes remained closed. The woman didn’t open her eyes, either. Okay. He couldn’t take them both up at once. He’d carry the baby up first and turn on his gas fireplace. The heating was already on, of course.

After he’d released the seat belt, he opened his door and slid out into the storm, the baby carrier sheltered against his chest. He kept a hand on his truck as he went around it. Then he reached out to find the stairs to the apartment. Afraid he’d fall and harm the baby, he kept a tight hold on the banister and climbed slowly.

Once he was inside, he put the carrier on the sofa and crouched down to start the gas fireplace. Then he took the blanket off the top of the carrier. The baby stirred, but then settled down again. He was relieved.

He left the baby and headed out into the storm again. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he opened the passenger door of the truck. “Lady, you’re going to have to help me. Are you awake?” he yelled over the storm. He pulled the mink coat back on her shoulders and fastened the hook.

She accepted the coat, but as he pulled her out, she lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Lady, we’ve got to get upstairs to the baby. Come on. Hold on to me. We’ll be fine.”

Despite his request, she wasn’t much help. But they eventually reached the top of the stairs. He dragged her the few steps to the front door and opened it, then got her to the sofa and lowered her to the cushions. He felt her face again and headed to the small kitchen for some pain reliever and water.

After giving her the pain reliever and some water, he moved the baby carrier and let the woman lie down on the sofa. He covered her with the mink coat. The baby opened its eyes and suddenly let out a yell.

“So, we’re hearing from you, are we?” He stared at the baby, not sure what to do for her. “Hmm, Mom said your name is Angel. That would make you a girl, wouldn’t it?”

Of course, he received no answer, though the baby continued to scream. He’d thought the mother had passed out, but she pushed herself up and reached for the baby. “Whoa!” Russ said. “You can’t go anywhere. What do I do for the baby? Change her diaper? Feed her?”

“Bottle,” she mumbled.

“Where is it? In the back of the truck?”

She turned to look at him. “I…I don’t know.”

“In the boxes? We loaded boxes from your car in the back of my truck.”

“Yes. I…I think so.”

He zipped up his coat and pulled on his gloves and hat. “Stay under your coat and relax,” he said. Then he hurried out into the storm again, which showed no indication of letting up. He grabbed two boxes. One was diapers, the other appeared to contain bottles. He carried them up the stairs and set them inside. The baby was crying, but the woman was sleeping. He made two more trips, bringing up the suitcases and a third box.

Each time he entered, the baby was still yelling and the woman still sleeping.

He opened the box labeled “feeding system.” Fortunately there were instructions that were fairly easy to follow. He put the milk mixture in the microwave and heated it for the time given. Then he put the nipple on it and shook it. He felt like a pro when he tested it on his arm the way he’d seen his mother do.

“Okay, baby, I think it’s ready. You want to try?”

He stuck the nipple in the little mouth, which instantly clamped on. He held the bottle with one hand and unfastened the straps holding the baby in the carrier. He should pick her up, shouldn’t he? Then he reached for the phone, leaving her in the carrier. He dialed a number with one hand, knowing it by memory.

“Mom?” he replied to the voice he heard. He was lucky that one of the women on the ranch answered.

“I’ve been wondering about you, Russ,” Janie, his mother, said. “I called half an hour ago.”

“I know, but I just got in. I have a problem. Do you pick up a baby when you’re feeding it?”

Janie remained silent, apparently stunned by his question. Finally she said, “You have a baby?”

“I picked one up on the highway with her mother. The mother is passed out with a high fever. The baby was screaming. I followed directions and fixed the bottle and she’s eating, but—”

“How old is the baby?”

“I’m not sure, but she’s really little.”

“A girl?”

“I think so. Her mother said her name is Angel.”

“You haven’t changed her diaper?”

“No. Should I do that?”

“Yes. Halfway through the bottle, burp her on your shoulder. Then change her diaper. Then finish feeding her and burp her again.”

“Okay,” he said, staring at the baby. Then he said, “Thanks, Mom.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. Is there anything I can do? Do you want your father to drive me into town?”

“No! The storm’s really bad and it’s not ending anytime soon. I’ll call you later when I get this feeding taken care of.”

“Okay, dear. I’m proud of you.”

Russ shook his head. He hadn’t done anything to make his mother proud. Anyone would’ve figured out how to feed that screaming machine. He put the phone down and pulled the bottle out of Angel’s mouth. Immediately the screaming started again. “Baby, you’ve got a siren like I’ve never heard.”

He shrugged out of his jacket, then picked up the baby. That change of behavior startled the baby and she took a breath. Any hope she was going to stop screaming disappeared, however. He put her on his shoulder and patted her back. She continued to cry, but it wasn’t nonstop.

Her mother stirred and Russ didn’t know what to do. Then a large burp ripped out of the baby. He drew her down from his shoulder, staring at her. This delicate little bundle had made that sound? He hurriedly laid her down on the carpet and grabbed the box of diapers. Then he undid the sleeper and undid the tapes on the diaper.

“Ooh! Definitely ripe, young lady.” He set the dirty diaper aside and spread out the fresh one. It wasn’t too hard to figure out. Finding the right snaps on the pajamas was more difficult. Especially when she continued to scream. He quickly offered the bottle again.

Peace! Her mother stopped trying to get up, now that the baby had stopped screaming. Russ felt as if he’d scored a real success. When the baby got close to the end of the bottle, its little rosebud mouth stopped working. He eased the bottle back, and the little jaws started working again. The third time the baby didn’t move. He thought about skipping the burping again, but he was afraid that would harm the baby. So he put her on his shoulder and burped her again.

This time, after burping, she fell asleep and remained asleep. With relief, he put her in the carrier and covered her with the blanket.

For the first time since he’d picked them up, Russ could take a minute for himself. Then he felt the woman’s face. It was still hot, but not as hot as earlier. He picked up the phone again.

“Dr. Wilson,” Jon said when he answered.

“Jon, it’s Russ.”

“Hey, you doing all right? Some storm, huh?”

“Yes. I picked up a stranded woman and her baby on the road. I managed to feed the baby and she’s sleeping fine. But the woman is very hot. I got some pain relievers and a little water down her, but is there anything else I need to do?”

“Did you put her in bed?”

“No, she’s on the sofa, but I can do that. I’m using her mink coat as cover right now.”

“She’d be better off if she was in bed with regular covers on her. She may get overheated under the fur. What’s her temperature?”

“I don’t know. It’s come down a little since I gave her the medicine, but she’s still hot. I don’t see any rash or anything. I don’t know how long they were stuck out there, either.”

“It’s hard for me to say without examining her. But do you have some soup? Preferably chicken, or beef consommé you could heat up and feed her?”

“I’ll check. Okay. Put her in bed and feed her soup. Anything else?”

“All the liquids you can get down her. Clear liquids, like juice.”

“Okay. If you don’t mind, I may call you later if that doesn’t work.”

“Of course, Russ. Call if you have any questions. Is the baby all right?”

“Well, she’s got the healthiest lungs I’ve ever heard. But she’s sleeping just fine now.” Russ started to hang up, but then he thought of another question. “Hey, how often does she take a bottle?”

“How big is she?”

“Tiny.”

“Probably every four hours. Don’t wake her. I’m sure she’ll wake you up when she’s ready to eat. Did you change her diaper?”

“Yeah. Okay, I’ll see what I can do for the mom before the baby gets hungry again.”

“Good job, Russ.”

Russ wasn’t used to all the praise coming his way today. He was only doing what he had to do. He shoved those thoughts away and reached for the largest suitcase. He found a pair of silk pajamas in forest-green. He looked at them and then at the woman. They looked conservative enough. He carried them into his bathroom. Then he turned down the king-size bed.

He returned to the couch and pulled off the mink coat. “C-c-cold,” she muttered, not opening her eyes.

“Come on, lady. You’ve got to put on your pajamas and go to the bathroom. Then I’ll put you to bed.”

She didn’t respond.

He had no idea what her name was. He bent over her. “Lady, what’s your name? Come on, wake up. What’s your name?”

“Izzy.”

She still didn’t open her eyes. And he wasn’t sure what that name was. “Izzy? Izzy, open your eyes.”

Long lashes fluttered several times. Then they settled on her cheeks again.

“No, Izzy, come on, open your eyes.” He pulled on her arms, raising her to a sitting position as she struggled to wake up. “Izzy, I’m going to help you to the bathroom, okay? When you get in there, put on your pajamas. Okay?”

He slid an arm around her slender figure and lifted her to her feet. “Come on, Izzy. I’m going to feel pretty strange if that’s not your name.”

They made their way to his bathroom. “Izzy, you’re in the bathroom now. Can you change your clothes?” When she started to undress, he slipped out of the room.

He came back after putting a pan on the stove and filling it with a can of chicken soup. He knocked on the door. “Izzy? Are you dressed in your pajamas?”

When there was no answer, he eased the door open. No, she wasn’t in her pajamas. She was sitting on the floor half-asleep. He took a deep breath and got her pajama bottoms on her. Then he carried her to the bed. He removed her sweater. She was a beautiful woman, and Russ held his breath, trying not to notice. By the time he got her into the pajama top, he was breathing heavily. He pulled the covers over her and was relieved when her eyes closed and she didn’t move.

He went back to the stove and poured the soup into a bowl. Then he poured some grape juice into a glass. Once again, he tried to wake Izzy. After propping her up on several pillows, he managed to feed her a few spoonfuls of soup. Then a few drops of juice. Not much.

Finally he let her sleep.

It was his turn. He took out a frozen dinner and put it in the microwave. It was well past lunchtime and he was hungry. After he’d fed himself, he lay down on the sofa and decided he’d rest a few minutes.

He awoke to the “siren” sounding for the baby’s next meal. He’d meant to have a bottle ready so the baby wouldn’t wake her mother.

Too late.

How in the hell had nature chosen him to be a nursery maid? That was the last thing he wanted to do, but at this point he had no choice. He steeled himself to pick up the warm bundle of baby, fighting the joy that flowed through him. He was in big trouble.

Chapter Two

Forty-eight hours.

Russ stared at the white world outside his window. Because of a snowstorm, he was lost.

Not lost in the snow. He was lost in a baby’s warmth. In her tenderness. In her need for an adult to care for her. Every four hours, she signaled her need clearly, but her mother couldn’t respond. Oh, she tried. He’d been amazed how she’d stir from the deepest sleep to try to get to her baby. Every time he’d assured her he’d take care of Angel.

He was becoming an expert with the tiny baby. He could even get her to stop screaming—at least for a minute or two—before the bottle was ready.

She recognized his voice, his touch. She knew when he showed up, food would soon follow. But this afternoon, they’d varied their routine.

Izzy had begged to feed her baby. To hold her against her. She hadn’t run a fever in a while, but she was still weak. When he used that excuse, she’d promised to stay on the bed if he’d bring the baby to her. So he’d done so.

He’d had to leave the room, because it hurt too much to let someone else feed her. In forty-eight hours, Angel had carved a place in his heart.

He stood there, staring at the blizzard, telling himself that he was foolish even to think of a relationship with Angel. For all he knew, Angel had a perfectly upstanding, caring father. Izzy had said nothing about their reason for being on the road alone. He didn’t even know their destination. They could’ve been taking the scenic route to Yellowstone.

He gave a grim smile at that thought. Not where he’d take a new baby. Hard to be interested in mountains and hot springs when your kid was waking you up every four hours. His brothers and friends had mentioned how tired you got when you couldn’t sleep straight through the night.

He loved getting up with Angel. But he was wearing down, he had to admit.

“Hello?” Izzy called from the bedroom. Russ realized he’d never told her his name.

He hurried into the bedroom, his hands reaching out to take the baby.

“Hi. I…I need a clean diaper.”

Her eyes, just as blue as Angel’s, weren’t glittery with fever any longer. Her black hair hung down her back in tangled curls, and her pajama top was almost slipping off her slender shoulders. He thought her face was a little gaunter than it had been when she was running a fever.

“I can change her. I’ve gotten quite good at it in the past couple of days.”

“I’m sure you have,” she said softly, smiling shyly. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

He tried to resist the warmth and charm. “No need.” He held out his hands for the baby again.

“She needs a new nightgown. If you’ll bring me one…”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said firmly, and scooped Angel into his arms. Then he hurried out into the living room.

He’d made part of the sofa into a changing table. He lay Angel down on the soft blanket he’d spread out. “I just stole you from your Mommy, didn’t I, little girl. But I missed you. Did you drink all your milk? What a good girl you are,” he added, smiling at her. He was crooning nonsense to her, and she loved it, as usual.

She was too young to smile at him, he’d decided, but she put those rosebud lips together and tried to blow bubbles. “Did you miss me? Did you think I’d gone away? Of course not.”

He gently removed her nightgown. Pretty soon he’d need to wash a load of baby clothes. Would his regular laundry soap be all right? He’d have to call his mom again. Not that she’d mind. She seemed to be enjoying his calls.

He changed her diaper and found another soft nightgown, this one pink, instead of a blue print. “Pink is your color, my Angel. It makes you look beautiful. You’ve got your mother’s hair, of course.” It was black and curly, making her look like an expensive doll. He could imagine her in her terrible twos, those curls bouncing in every direction as she raced through the house, getting into trouble.

To his surprise, the picture was as clear as could be. Much clearer than his memories of Abby. He stared at the baby in horror. What was wrong with him? This baby wasn’t his. Abby was his. His memory, his love.

Angel’s face puckered up, as if he’d frightened her. Abby would never want that. Russ relaxed once more, using his soothing voice to reassure the child.

“Hello?” called Izzy. “Has she gone to sleep?”

He still hadn’t told Izzy his name. “Just a minute,” he called back. Then he picked up Angel and walked to the door of the bedroom. “She’s settling down now. I’ve been letting her sleep in the carrier. Is that all right?”

“Yes, of course, but if you put her here, I can feed her when she wakes up.”

“Not unless you get up and make a bottle.”

He felt badly about his abrupt return to reality. She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe I can manage that, too.”

“I apologize, Izzy. What in hell is that short for, anyway?”

“Isabella.”

“Oh. That’s a lovely name. I’ll go put Angel to bed. Then I’ll come back and introduce myself.” That was the least he could do. It looked as if she was finally getting well. He’d talked to Jon several times to make sure he was doing the right thing.

He laid the baby in the carrier and tucked a blanket around her, thinking he’d never seen anything quite as beautiful as Angel sleeping. The phone rang and he hurried to answer it so it wouldn’t wake the baby.

“Hi, son. It’s Mom. Everyone is waiting for our daily report. How’s the baby doing?”

He chuckled. “I’m doing fine, Mom, thank you for asking.”

“Well, I can tell that. Now, how’s the baby?”

“Doing fine, too. She just finished her bottle, had a change of clothes and has gone back to sleep.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job,” Janie said.

“Well, her mother fed her just now. I guess she should get some praise, too.”

“The mother’s awake? How is she doing?”

“I think she’s better. I was just going to fix her something to eat. Why don’t I call you back after she eats?”

“All right. Ask her—”

“I know what to ask her. Talk to you later.”

He’d fed the woman soup ever since they’d been in his apartment, but he didn’t think she’d finished as much as a can. He stepped to the door of the bedroom. “Isabella, I’m going to make an omelette and share it with you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

A faint thank-you drifted after him as he headed for the kitchen. He concentrated on the omelette, able to handle that with no trouble. He wondered about the woman, was not even sure she was a good mother. After all, she and her baby had been alone in a storm.

Of course, the storm had come up suddenly. Even the weatherman hadn’t given them much warning. Nevertheless he’d warn her to check more carefully before she set out again.

He made a vegetable and cheese omelette. Once he made sure she would eat meat, he’d fix her a steak. But he thought this would go down easier for her first real meal. He cut about a fourth of the omelette for her. Then he put the rest on his plate.

He dug out a tray and put both plates on it. Then he added some orange juice and some buttered toast. That should be enough for her first meal.

He entered the bedroom to find her eyes closed. Going to the opposite side of the bed, he set down the tray. Then he leaned over the bed and shook her shoulder. “Isabella? Wake up. I’ve brought you some lunch.”

She blinked several times, staring at him. Again he was reminded of how much Angel’s eyes were like her mother’s. “I…don’t think I can keep anything down.”

“Just try a little bit. You won’t get stronger until you eat something.”

She struggled to sit up against the pillows and he shoved another pillow behind her. Her fingers were trembling and she grabbed them to try to hide her weakness.

“Do I need to feed you?”

“No! No, I’m s-sure I can manage.”

But when she picked up the fork and it shook, he realized he shouldn’t have asked. “This time I’ll feed you. I don’t want you getting my pajama top dirty,” he added with a smile.

Unfortunately that apparently reminded her of a question she wanted to ask. “Why am I wearing your pajamas?”

“I wasn’t sure how to wash silk pajamas.” He scooped up a bite of egg, cheese and veggies and held it in front of her.

“I have nightgowns in my suitcase,” she said, not taking the bite.

“Come on before I drop it.” He was pleased when she opened her mouth. She chewed slowly, but it didn’t come back out. That made him think he’d been successful.

“It’s very good, but—”

“By the way, I apologize. My name is Russ. Russ Randall.”

She stared at him. “Randall? I’ve heard that name before.”

He held up another bite. “Try another bite before it gets cold.”

“But…” she began, but then stopped talking. He assumed she was following directions and carefully shoved the bite into her mouth.

She covered her mouth with her hand. “Did you bring a napkin?” she muttered after a minute.

He handed her the small glass of juice. “Drink some juice and I’ll go get napkins.”

When he returned, he decided her drink of juice must’ve been small. The level hadn’t gone down much. “Take another swallow.”

She lifted the glass to her lips, but didn’t drink much. “I remember where I heard your name.”

“Oh, really? Where? Connected to rodeos?”

She appeared surprised by the question. “No. I don’t know anything about rodeos.”

“Really? That’s a switch. I thought maybe you’d heard of Pete, Toby or Rich.”

“Who are they?”

“Randalls who’ve made a name for themselves.”

He held up another bite and she took it. “This really is good, Russ.”

“Thanks. Want some toast?”

She took the toast and bit off a little.

He fed her more. She started to speak, but he gave her a determined stare, and she took the bite.

“Didn’t you make a name for yourself?” she asked.

“Not as a rodeo cowboy. I’m an accountant. Not exactly headline stuff.” He’d always scored a lot lower than the rest of his family with the ladies. Somehow, adding up numbers wasn’t as exciting as wrestling bulls or riding bucking broncos. Of course, he didn’t suffer broken bones, either. Rich had done that. But it was how he met Samantha, so maybe it was worth it.

“Accountants are very important,” Isabella said solemnly.

He thought she was mocking him, but her look was sincere.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course. Accountants run the world.”

“Well, they certainly keep count of everything.” He scooped up more egg.

“No! I’ll just nibble on my toast and drink more juice. I don’t think I should try too much too soon.”

Russ frowned. “But you only had a few bites.”

“But they were big bites. Besides, your share will get cold if you don’t eat some of it soon.”

“All right. But let me know if you want more.”

She smiled in agreement and picked up her toast.

Russ took a bite of omelette. Lunch was a bit late today and he was hungry.

“How many brothers do you have?”

He looked up, surprised by her question. “Two.”

“But you named three, Pete, Toby and Rich.”

“Only Rich is my brother. My twin, to be exact. Pete’s my dad and Toby’s a cousin. I’ve got another brother, Casey. He’s the baby of the family. Well, that’s not true. He’s the baby of this generation, but we’ve got three babies in the next generation.”

She stared at him. “How many people are in your family?”

“Well, my father is one of four Randall brothers. They all married and had eleven children between them. Then there’s Griffin—he’s a cousin—and his wife Camille, who have two kids. Then there’s Gabe and Nick, two more cousins, also twins. Gabe and his wife Sarah just had twins and Nick and his wife are expecting. I think that makes a total of twenty-nine and growing. We’re a big family.”

That’s when Russ discovered she’d fallen asleep. Obviously his family wasn’t as dynamic as he thought.

He eased himself off the bed and carried the tray to the kitchen. He didn’t get her to eat much, although in addition to the bit of omelette, she’d managed half a piece of toast and half a glass of juice. Maybe he’d better check with Jon.

When his cousin-in-law answered the phone, he asked him if that was enough food for one meal.

“Sounds like it. Unless you make really bad omelettes,” he teased.

“They’re my specialty, Jon.”

He heard Tori protesting behind her husband. Omelettes had been Abby’s thing for him to fix her, especially if she was sick.

“Russ, I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t worry about it, Jon. She did eat half a piece of toast and drank half a glass of orange juice.”

“Big glass?”

“No, a juice glass.”

“That’s probably best. If she keeps that down, that’s good.”

“You mean she might not?”

“You never know.”

“Man, that’s not something to look forward to.”

“Nope. That’s why I keep nurses around.” Jon chuckled, but then he asked, “Hey, did you find out anything about your mystery guest?”

“Her name is Isabella.”

“Pretty name.” He had to repeat it for Tori. “So, I guess she’s Italian.”

“That would be a good guess. She has long black curls.”

“Is she a teenage runaway?”

Russ paused. “No, I don’t think so. I’d guess she’s in her mid-twenties.”

“So what else did she tell you?”

“Uh, that’s it. I was busy trying to get her to eat. That seemed more important than pumping her for information.” He knew he sounded stiff. But he felt awkward once he realized what a poor job he’d done. Man, he certainly didn’t want to call his mother now.

“I’m sure Isabella will tell you anything you want to know when she feels better,” Jon said soothingly, reminding Russ of how he talked to Angel.

“Yeah. Well, I’d better go. Mom’s still waiting for her daily report.”

“Tori talked to her mother yesterday. The whole bunch of parents are gathering for your daily report.”

“Must be because of the blizzard. Not much to do when you’re trapped in the house.”

“Right. Well, call me if you have any concerns. Oh, I heard the weather report a short while ago. They think the storm might blow itself out by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Terrific,” Russ said, but he noticed a decided lack of enthusiasm in himself that he didn’t want to examine.

“Okay, we’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Jon.”

Could he put off calling his mother? The four sets of parents all lived together in the main ranch house. They shared their problems and their joys with one another. The kids all grew up together. He was as close to his cousins as he was to Casey. He’d admit he was a little closer to Rich, since they were identical twins, but not much.

They were all one big happy family.

Until Abby died.

Then he’d bowed out. Oh, he’d still been a member of the family, but he’d avoided all their big get-togethers. He’d avoided every rodeo they had at the ranch. He’d withdrawn into a colorless world where he didn’t have to risk dealing with his emotions.

He’d known it was cowardly of him. But he couldn’t bear the pain of the memories. The sight of the joy his brother or cousins felt with their new babies. The soft touches, the exchanged looks with their wives. He’d shared all that with Abby. But no more.

He’d fallen into a rut of nothingness.

Okay, so now it was time to reenter life. His fingers actually shook as he picked up the phone. He could start slowly. After Isabella and Angel went on their way, he could attend a few family functions. That would do for a while.

He dialed the number, and Red, the man who’d taken care of the house for the past forty years, answered.

“Hey, boy, you making it all right?”

“Sure, Red. But I can’t quite make biscuits as light as yours,” Russ teased.

“It’s in the wrist, boy. You know that.”

Russ chuckled and asked for his mother.

“She’s been waitin’ for your call.”

“Russ?” his mother asked when she got on the line. “Did she wake up?”

“Yeah, she did, but not for long. And she was pretty weak. I fixed her some food, but she didn’t eat much.”

“What did you fix her? An omelette?”

He should’ve known his mother would guess that. “Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That would be good for her.”

“I hope so. Her name is Isabella, but that’s all I learned. She fell asleep too quickly.”

“Oh, my. She must be really weak.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how long she was sick before I found them.”

“How’s Angel?”

“As beautiful as ever. She recognizes my voice now.” He regretted adding that information.

“Uh, yes, babies do that quickly. So her mother’s name is Isabella? That sounds Italian.”

“That’s what Jon said.”

“I wonder if she was coming here to visit someone? We have a few Italian families around here.”

“Probably not, Mom. I think she would’ve told me at once. But I’ll admit she’s not thinking too clearly. She fell asleep while I was explaining our family to her.”

Janie laughed. “No wonder. There’s so many of us.”

“I know. But she’d heard our name before.”

“Well, that happens with Pete and Toby and even Rich.”

It bothered Russ how much he was pleased to be able to tell his mother that she’d never heard of anyone connected with the rodeo. “No, she hadn’t heard of them. She’s from New York, you know. At least, her license plates say New York.”

“Oh. Then I wonder how—”

“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try to ask her the next time she wakes up. But I’ve got to go get the kitchen cleaned up right now. Before Angel’s next meal.”

“Of course, son. Oh, the snow is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll get in to see how you’re doing as soon as we can.”

“Thanks, Mom, but there’s no hurry.”

When he hung up the phone, he stood there, his hand on the receiver, wishing everyone would quit telling him about the end of the blizzard. As if that was a good thing.

Chapter Three

When he moved to the kitchen to clean it up, he first took two steaks out of the freezer. A little steak and some vegetables would be good for Isabella. He’d cook them after Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

He checked on Isabella several times before Angel finally sounded the alarm. He listened for Isabella to ask to feed her baby again, but he heard nothing. He gathered the baby against his chest and put the bottle in her mouth and all noise ceased. He cooed to her, entertaining her while she ate. Entertaining himself. He warned himself not to depend on Angel’s being around. After all, the snowstorm was supposed to end tomorrow.

But he doubted Isabella would have the strength by then to move on. After all, four bites of an omelette had knocked her out. It was strange that she hadn’t even stirred when Angel woke up. Suddenly he panicked. Still holding Angel, he jumped up from the couch and hurried to the bedroom door.

But Isabella was fine. She was curled under the covers, sound asleep and seemingly at peace. He backed away before Angel’s greedy guzzling of her bottle could bother her mother. Was Isabella going to sleep through dinner, too?

He’d looked forward to eating with Isabella. How pathetic. He was looking forward to dinner with a woman just this side of a coma. Yeah, he was going to have to change his lifestyle. Get out more. He didn’t need to consider dating or anything like that. He had no intention of dating. But he could hang out with his family.

It was just that he was curious about Isabella and Angel. He wanted to know they would be all right. That they had someone to turn to.

She probably had a truckload of relatives anxious to know what had happened to her. Especially if her car and her coat indicated her level of income. A runaway wouldn’t leave in her full-length mink coat and the Cadillac. That was a silly idea.

He had Angel changed and back down asleep before he heard anything from the bedroom. A thump. He hurried to the door and saw nothing. Including no one in the bed. He turned to the bathroom, but the door was open and the room was empty. He turned back to the bed and saw Isabella sprawled out on the floor beside it.

“Isabella! What happened?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered.

He lifted her from the floor and helped her to the bathroom. Once he got her inside, he stood her against the sink.

“Can you manage on your own?”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t sure it was wise to leave her there alone, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. He’d already seen more of her than he wanted her to know.

He hovered outside the door, waiting for her to call him.

“Russ?”

He barely heard her. Had the omelet made her worse?

He opened the door and found her where he’d left her. “Did you take care of business?”

She nodded. He scooped her up into his arms and maneuvered her through the door. When he got her back to the bed, he followed her down to the side of the bed. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

She shook her head.

“But you seem more out of it than before,” he said, really worried.

“Sleepy,” she muttered.

He pulled the cover over her shoulders. “But I was going to cook you dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Sleepy,” she repeated.

He left the room and grabbed the phone to call Jon again. Tori answered this time.

“Hi, Russ. Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know, Tori. She never really got awake. I found her on the floor because she fell trying to get to the bathroom. I got her in there and left her alone for a few minutes. Then she called me and wanted to go back to bed. All she’d say was she was sleepy. I was going to cook her supper, but she’s gone back to sleep. Does that sound normal?”

His cousin repeated the facts to Jon, her husband. He took the phone. “Does she seem to be sleeping okay?”

“Yeah, her breathing is even. Actually, she seems to be sleeping more deeply.”

“Probably she didn’t get any good sleep until you got more food down her. I bet the next time she wakes up, she’ll be hungry. Don’t worry, Russ.”

“Whatever you say, Jon.” He knew he didn’t sound satisfied with Jon’s words, but he couldn’t help worrying.

“If you get worried later, give us a call. No matter what the time.”

“Okay, thanks. Hopefully I won’t have to bother you.”

Russ went back into the bedroom. He stared down at Isabella, watching her breathe. Then he walked out to the living room and looked at Angel. They were both sleeping fine. Maybe if he watched Monday Night Football he could forget the warmth and beauty of the two females. But he knew Angel had already claimed his heart. What worried him even more was that Isabella had that effect on him, too. He couldn’t feel anything for her! Could he?

WHEN SHE WOKE UP Isabella had no idea where she was. She realized she must have been ill, because she was very shaky. What had woken her up?

It had to be Angel, of course. But had she stopped crying? That didn’t sound like Angel. She usually screamed continuously until she got her bottle. They’d been in a hotel. Was that where—? She heard a man’s voice.

She struggled from the big bed and managed to get as far as the door, leaning against the wall for support. She silently opened the door and stared into the next room.

There was her child, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against a man’s bare chest, taking her bottle. Isabella watched as the man moved around the room, as if slowly waltzing with Angel. He was wearing loose sweatpants, hanging low on his hips—and nothing else.

“Who are you?” she demanded, but her voice came out faint and weak.

“Isabella! You’re up!”

“You know me?”

He gave her a strange look. “We introduced ourselves last night. Don’t you remember?”

“No. Where am I?”

He moved closer and she almost fell over. “I think you’d better get back in bed. Angel and I will come in there and we’ll talk while she finishes her bottle.” He bent over and got a clean nightgown and diaper before coming toward her.

She stumbled back to bed, already exhausted by the brief exchange. As she pulled the cover up, she realized she had nothing on her legs. She was only wearing a pajama top and panties. Her panties, someone else’s top.

The man sat on the foot of the bed, still feeding the baby. “I picked the two of you up three days ago on the road south of Rawhide. A blizzard was starting and I was trying to make it back to Rawhide. Your car was off the road in the ditch.”

She didn’t remember any of this. Three days ago?

“You opened my passenger door before I could get out and shoved in Angel in her carrier. Then you started loading your suitcases and boxes. I climbed out and helped you. Then I got you in the truck and myself behind the wheel. When I looked at you, I realized you were running a high fever.

“We got back here and I brought you both up here and started taking care of you.” He stood and went over to the curtains. He pulled them open and showed her a white nothingness. He pulled the curtain closed again. “Helps keep the cold out.”

“You mean the snow is as high as the second story?”

“No. But with a storm, we get a lot of wind. Until it blows itself into North Dakota, there’s more snow in the air than there is on the ground. Travel is impossible.”

“Oh. So we’re in Rawhide?”

“Yeah. Where were you heading?”

“Rawhide.”

He stared at her as if she’d said something strange. “You were?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that? Don’t you get visitors in Rawhide?” She shifted under the covers, feeling uneasy suddenly.

“Yeah, sure. Were you visiting someone?”

“Yes, my aunt.”

“Oh, that explains it. But Angel is too young to be traveling. And you need to watch the weather closely in Wyoming.”

“Thanks for the warning!” she snapped angrily, but she was so weak her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, no need to cry. I saved you.”

“I’m sure we would’ve been all right,” she said with a sniff.

He stared at her. “No. You would’ve frozen to death.”

His raw statement made everything worse. “Give me my baby!”

“Why? She needs to be changed so she can go back to sleep.”

“I know that! I can take care of her!”

“Can you? You can barely stand. You certainly can’t carry her around, and you’ve been very sick. I don’t think you should push it.”

She gave up, though she didn’t think it was her nature. But he was right. She didn’t have any strength. She turned over and buried her face in a soft pillow. “Go away!”

She heard him stand and walk away. When she looked up she was alone again, the door closed. Wearily, she pushed her hair back from her face and tried to think about her next step. But it seemed too hard to make a decision. Gradually her lashes lowered over her eyes.

AFTER A SLEEPY Angel was settled back down in her carrier, Russ silently opened the door of his bedroom and discovered Isabella had gone back to sleep.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Last night she’d seemed sweet and cooperative. This morning she was difficult…except that she was too weak. He really needed to feed her again, but he was thinking they both might benefit from another couple of hours’ sleep. This was Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

He returned to the air mattress he used when he went camping. It was better than the floor. He was too old to sleep on the floor. Okay, he wasn’t ancient, only in his early thirties, but he felt older.

He lay down, thinking of his king-size bed in the next room. He had a second bedroom, but he’d made it into an office. There was no bed there. One thing about taking care of Angel, though. He didn’t have to worry about falling to sleep.

That was true this morning, too.

AROUND EIGHT, Russ pulled on jeans and a sweater, using the spare bathroom. Then he headed for the kitchen. He first put on a pot of coffee. Then he put oatmeal on to cook. He fried bacon and added buttered toast. When it was all ready, he went to the bedroom door and opened it.

“Isabella, I’m serving breakfast in five minutes. Want to visit the bathroom beforehand?”

At least she’d opened her eyes. She stared at him, blinking several times.

Then she nodded and began shoving back the cover. Until she reached her bare legs. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“That top comes almost to your knees. Come on. If we don’t hurry, the bacon will burn.” He noticed interest in her eyes when he mentioned bacon. That was a good sign. He helped her to the bathroom.

When he had her back in bed, he went to the kitchen and loaded the tray with their breakfasts and came back. He walked around the bed and piled the pillows behind her so she was almost sitting up. Then he slid the tray closer.

“Help yourself,” he said, picking up the bowl with the most oatmeal. She picked up her own bowl, but she stared at him.

“I like my oatmeal with a little sugar,” he said, sprinkling it on his cereal, “and then I add raisins. Does that suit you?”

She nodded and he added sugar and raisins for her.

“Want some milk to cool it off?”

She nodded again. He poured some for her. “Can you stir it up yourself?”

She nodded. Good thing he didn’t expect a lot of conversation.

“Eat a piece of bacon and a bite of toast while it cools,” he ordered. He figured if he gave her a choice, she’d refuse everything. She followed his lead. In fact, she ate half a piece of toast. Then he started eating the oatmeal and she followed suit.

Fifteen minutes later, the tray was pretty much emptied. He’d eaten most of it, but she’d done a pretty good job. “Feel better?”

She nodded again.

“Are you ever going to speak again?”

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome. Now, who were you coming to visit? They’ll be worried about you.”

“No. She didn’t know I was coming.”

“Then whoever you left will be worried. Tell me who to call and I’ll let them know you’re all right.”

She said nothing.

“What’s going on here? Why aren’t you talking?”

“Because there’s no one I want to tell.”

“You came from New York?”

“How did you know that?” she asked, stiffening.

He smiled as he shook his head. She was a suspicious woman. “I saw your license plate.”

“Oh.”

He’d told Jon he didn’t think she was a runaway, but now he wondered. “Are you hiding from someone?”

“What if I am? I’m an adult.”

“I don’t think that’s an adult way to handle things.”

“Well, I think it is. I’m too weak right now to fight. When I’m strong again, I’ll handle everything.”

She was already tiring, and he wanted more information before she went back to sleep. “Who is Angel’s father?”

“Timothy Walker, my…my husband.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s dead.”

Russ knew the elation that filled him was wrong. And it didn’t mean he could keep Angel, but at least for now, he was the only man in her short life. “When did he die?”

“Six months ago.”

“Angel looks about a month old. So you went through the pregnancy by yourself?”

She nodded, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Not quite the truth, he guessed, but she closed her eyes.

“I’m too tired to talk anymore.”

“Okay. We’ll try again at lunchtime.”

She didn’t answer. He picked up the tray, but he stared down at her for a moment. The food was helping her. She was going to regain her strength quickly.

But the mystery wasn’t solved. And he intended to solve it before he let Isabella and Angel go away.

HE HANDLED Angel’s ten-o’clock feeding as usual, except that he talked to her and played with her for about half an hour before he let her go back to sleep.

“Like mother, like daughter, little Angel. I can’t keep either one of you awake.” With a grin, he tucked the baby into her carrier. Then he took a quick look out the window. The wind seemed to be abating a little. He decided he’d better straighten up the living room before his mother arrived. And Tori and Jon. In fact, there might be a crowd before supper.

He wished he knew who Isabella was planning on visiting. No one he knew had mentioned relatives in New York. Nor had they had any visits from relatives from there. Was she all alone in New York? He didn’t think so. The way she’d avoided his gaze when she said she’d had the baby alone made him think someone was around. And she was running from whoever that was.

He checked on Isabella. She was still sleeping, her face almost as innocent and young as Angel’s.

He fixed himself a sandwich and turned on the television. He had a satellite dish and got the latest in weather. His family had been right. The snow was supposed to taper off this afternoon. Come to think of it, he didn’t hear any wind now. He stepped to the window and opened the drapes.

It was a winter wonderland. There was the occasional little gust that stirred up snow crystals, but most of the snow had settled on the ground. He crossed to his front door, which looked down on Main Street, and saw several individuals outside, clearing off the sidewalks. He waved and went back inside.

Then he heard steps on the outside stairs. He opened the door just as Jon and Tori reached it.

“May we come in?” Tori asked, not waiting for an answer. She ducked under his arm and darted into the warmth.

“Hi, Jon.” Russ said. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here. I think we’re doing all right.”

“No, no trouble. Except I tried to leave Tori at home with the baby. But Rosa will take care of him.” Rosa was their housekeeper.

“Oh, Jon, come look. She’s beautiful. Look at those curls!” Tori exclaimed.

Jon joined his wife at Angel’s carrier. “Is she all right? Do I need to check her?”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s about a month old and she’s eating every four hours. She has incredibly healthy lungs,” Russ said.

“I know. So does Jonny. If anything, they get louder. Jonny is almost nine months old,” Tori informed him. “I thought you might not know since you’ve avoided all the babies.”

“I know.”

Jon changed the subject. “Where’s her mother?”

“In my bed.”

Tori gasped.

Russ turned bright red. “I slept out here! On my air mattress, Tori. That’s the only bed I had available.”

“Oh. Of course. I’d break it to your mother in a different way, Russ. She’ll have you married before you know it.”

“Tori, behave yourself,” Jon ordered. “That’s none of our business.”

Russ said nothing.

“I’m serious, Jon! Janie wants Russ to remarry. She’ll use any excuse she can find!”

For a minute Russ didn’t even object. That meant he could keep Angel with him if he married Isabella. But marrying Isabella, even for Angel’s sake, was a lot more complicated. She was a warm, passionate woman. He had withdrawn from life. They couldn’t possibly live together unless one of them changed. And he couldn’t change, so he returned to sanity. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

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