Jingle-Bell Baby. Linda Goodnight
pair was all right.
They haunted him. He couldn’t get them out of his head, a fact that infuriated him.
Now a phone call to the hospital told him exactly nothing. What had he expected? The day he’d visited her, he hadn’t even thought to ask her name. He’d just asked for the mother and baby he’d brought into the emergency room. How stupid was that? All the receptionist would tell him was that mother and baby had been discharged, but unless Dax was next of kin, and she knew danged well he wasn’t, no other information could be shared.
A distant relative of Reba’s, the hateful old biddy had never liked him anyway. She’d enjoyed putting him in his place.
“Fine,” he said to absolutely no one. The little mama and her baby were gone. They were all right. He could forget them. They were not his responsibility. He had enough of that to choke a horse already. End of topic.
No use fretting over a baby girl he’d never see again when he had his own problems to contend with. Shirley down at the employment office was sending him a new recruit this morning.
He laughed, a mocking sound. Good old Shirley had warned him she was sick and tired of finding him housekeepers only to have him run them off with his cranky-butted attitude. Her words. Cranky-butted. He could almost see her shaking her finger in his face.
He’d laughed when she’d said it. Now he wondered. Was he cranky-butted? Was he a bitter man with a bad attitude? Was that why Reba had walked out, leaving behind a new baby, a husband who’d adored her and an easy life?
He kicked a chair leg. Reba and her betrayal was not allowed in this house.
Dax snatched up the two empty glasses and a corn dog wrapper from the coffee table, toting them to the big, silver, step-levered trash can in the kitchen. Silly to feel nervous about interviewing a prospective housekeeper, but he needed to get this woman on board right away. Rushing home to meet Gavin’s school bus each evening took a bite out of his productivity.
He trailed back through the living room, wiping a shirtsleeve over the fireplace mantel then grimaced to discover his shirt was now covered in dust. He batted at it and sneezed when the dust flew upward, dancing in the overhead light.
The doorbell chimed.
As he strode across the carpet toward the foyer, he noticed two of Gavin’s miniature cars and a sock sticking out from under the couch—along with a dust bunny the size of a jack rabbit.
He gave up. He was a rancher. This was why he hired housekeepers.
With a final slap at his dusty shirtsleeve Dax yanked the front door open. His mouth also fell open as he looked down into a familiar face. A very young, slender and decidedly pretty face.
Blast it.
What the devil was the little mama doing on his porch? Please, please. Surely not to apply for the housekeeper position.
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