BEVERLY BARTON – Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby (страница 8)
Frank glanced down at the picture, then reached out and took it. He stared at the photo for what seemed like forever, then smiled and said, “He looks like you. Lucky kid.”
Leenie clenched her teeth to keep from crying.
“I guess he’ll grow up to be tall, huh, since I’m six-three and you’re—what?—five-nine or ten.” Frank looked at her.
She nodded. “He has big hands and big feet. Long toes and long fingers.” She cast her gaze on Frank’s hand holding the frame.
“Like me.” He looked at Andrew’s picture again, then handed it back to Leenie.
She placed the frame on the bedside table and slumped down on the edge of the bed. When she turned back to Frank, she noticed he was headed toward the door.
He glanced back at her. “I need to get my bag out of the rental car. I’m going to stay here with you until we find Andrew, if that’s all right.”
Her heart soared. “Yes. Yes, it’s all right with me.”
He offered her a forced smile, then opened the door.
“Thank you,” she called.
He paused momentarily, but didn’t turn or speak; then he left.
When Frank brought his bag in, Haley Wilson stopped him in the foyer. “Are you planning on staying?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Look, Ms. Wilson, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”
“All right. Leenie is one of the strongest, most independent women I know. But she’s vulnerable right now. Her whole life is hanging in the balance because Andrew
“I agree.”
Haley stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “She hasn’t slept since the night before last and she hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’ve gotten her to drink a little tea, but that’s all. Do you think you could get her to eat?”
“Is there any cheesecake in the house?” Frank asked, remembering how they had devoured cheesecake at dawn, after a marathon lovemaking session.
Haley cocked her head sideways and smiled. “You do know a little something about her, don’t you? As for the cheesecake—I had my husband stop by the bakery and drop one by here a little while ago.”
Frank dumped his bag in the corner of the foyer. “I’ll take her a piece and make sure she eats it.” He looked directly at Leenie’s friend. “I’m going to take care of her. I promise.”
This woman had no way of knowing that Frank Latimer didn’t make promises easily, that when he made one, he kept it.
Five minutes later, Frank entered Leenie’s bedroom. He carried two slices of cheesecake and two cups of hot tea on a tray. Leenie glanced up at him from where she still sat on the edge of the bed. She clutched a damp, wrinkled handkerchief in her hand.
“Snack time.” He walked over, placed the tray on the bed and sat beside her. “Cheesecake and hot tea. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember, but I’m surprised that you do.”
He lifted one plate and fork and handed them to her. “Eat up.”
“Frank, I’m not—”
“Eat.” He picked up the other plate, sliced off a large chunk of cheesecake and slid it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed dramatically. “Nothing better than cheesecake, except—”
“Sex,” she finished his sentence.
Grinning, he took a second bite before placing his plate back on the tray. He eased his hand under her hand to support her plate, then lifted her fork and cut off a piece of the cheesecake and lifted it to her mouth. She parted her lips; he slid the cheesecake into her mouth. As soon as she finished one bite, he gave her another, and then another—slowly, patiently—until three-fourths of her slice was gone.
“I can’t eat anymore,” she told him.
He set her plate on the tray, then handed her the tea. While she sipped the tea, he drank his, watching her all the while. After she drained her cup, he removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor.
Leenie was dead on her feet, worn out from lack of sleep and the stress of not knowing where Andrew was or if he was all right. Frank realized she needed more than cheesecake and tea. She needed to rest. He scooted up in her bed until his back hit the headboard, then he reached out, grasped Leenie’s hand and tugged on it urging her to join him. They sat side-byside in her bed, their backs resting against the headboard. Frank put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled her against him.
“Would you believe I had blond hair and blue eyes when I was a baby?” he said.
“What?” Turning her head sideways, she glanced over at him.
“I had blond hair and blue eyes like Andrew. So his eyes could turn gray later on and his hair might not stay blond like yours.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I was bald when I was born. Well, actually, I think I had some white fuzz, but it wasn’t much. I have a couple of baby pictures that a distant relative sent me when I contacted her after I grew up and started searching for any family I might have.”
“That’s right. You grew up in foster homes, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh. After my parents died, I got shuffled from one foster home to another, until I was fifteen and wound up with Debra and Jerry Schmale.”
“Debra? The same Debra who’s Andrew’s nanny?”
“That’s right.” Leenie yawned.
“How’s she doing after her surgery?”
“I spoke to her doctor earlier today and he said she should be able to go into a private room tomorrow. Debra’s a wonderful person, the only real mother-figure I ever had that I can remember. My own mother died when I was four and I can barely remember her.”
“I grew up in a fairly conventional family. Mom, dad and an older sister. Then when I was twelve my parents divorced. Ripped us to shreds. My sister went with Mom and I lived with Dad.”
“It must have been difficult for you.”
“Pure hell. You see, my mother had taken a lover and my father wanted to make her pay for her sins.” Frank glanced at Leenie, her eyes shut, her lips slightly parted, her breathing soft and even.
“Did you hate your mother after that?” Leenie asked, her voice hushed.
“Yeah, I hated her for a long, long time, but that’s all in the past now,” Frank said, looking at the way Leenie’s eyelids closed and realizing what she needed was sleep. He moved on to more mundane topics and Leenie melted against him as she began drifting off to sleep. He kept talking quietly until he knew she was fast asleep, then he eased her down into the bed so that her head rested in his lap. He pulled the folded quilt at the foot of the bed up and over her. While she slept, he watched her. Drank his fill of her.
He admitted to himself that he’d missed Leenie while they’d been apart. He’d missed seeing her, talking to her, having sex with her. She was the first woman since Rita who’d stirred something inside him other than lust.
He caressed her hair and the side of her face tenderly. “Get some rest, Slim. I’m here now. You won’t have to go through this alone.”
Chapter Four
Andrew dangled helpless over the deep, dark well, a large hand holding him by the nape of his tiny neck. The hand loosened its grip and released the baby. His frightened cries echoed in the blackness as he fell down, down, down. God, no…no…no! Leenie tried to reach out and grab her son, but her efforts were useless. All she could do was scream in terror.
“Leenie…Leenie…wake up.”
Strong masculine hands grasped her shoulders and shook her gently. She tried to fight him, fear spiraling through her alarmingly.
“Slim, it’s me—Frank. Wake up. You were having a nightmare.”
She opened her eyes suddenly and stared into Frank Latimer’s concerned gray eyes.
“Oh, Frank, it was awful. Someone dropped Andrew into a deep well. He was crying…crying for me.”
Frank pulled her up off the bed and into his arms, his strength enveloping her. She clung to him, her mind and nerves rioting. “It was just a bad dream,” he told her.
“I know.” She burrowed her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “But he’s out there—lost.” She lifted her head and stared at Frank. “We have to find him. Please, tell me that we can save him. Make me believe that he’s not lost to me forever.”
Frank brushed loose strands of hair out of her face. His hand lingered, his fingertips caressed. And then he withdrew. She felt the emotional withdrawal as keenly as the physical release. He eased out of bed, his back to her, and said nothing for several awkward minutes.
“Frank?”
“I’ll do everything I can, but…” He turned halfway toward her, his jaw tense, his gaze unfocused as he glared off into nothingness. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ve already sworn to you that I would move heaven and earth to bring Andrew home, and I meant it. I’ll do everything humanly possible. But the honest truth is that even though I’d do anything to rescue Andrew, I can’t promise you that I can bring him back to you safe and sound.”
Her heart lurched, then sank. This wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She had thought he would reinforce his earlier vow to rescue Andrew and had longed to hear him say those comforting words. Even knowing Frank wasn’t a miracle worker, she believed in him. He was her last best hope.