The Billionaire And The Baby. Rebecca Winters
station museum.
It filled Hannah with pride that Sandhill stood on Carr property, one of the few stations across the country still remaining and still preserved in its original state since the 1860s.
Literally a crude log hut where the riders of old changed horses and bedded down for the night in a bunk, Hannah’s deceased father, a rodeo champion turned postal worker who’d retired early due to a medical disability, had constructed a counter so they could turn the place into a shop as well as a museum.
Outside he’d restored the original makeshift barn. Hannah kept her mare there. Under her supervision parents paid good money to let their children have a ride around the small corral.
Thankful for the customers who flocked to Wyoming, especially during the summer months, Hannah counted on the revenue for her bread and butter. With Elizabeth to feed and clothe, back tuition fees to pay, plus the heavy expense of hiring a private detective to locate her missing sister, Hannah needed every dime she could save.
Two weeks ago she’d opened the museum to coincide with the end of classes at the university, the signal that summer had come to the state.
Now that the hotter weather had finally kicked in, the tourist season had started to pick up and would reach its peak through July and August. Tour bus groups spent the most money, especially the elderly couples.
While the men purchased maps and argued points of history, their wives thronged to the counter to buy Pony Express rider hats and trinkets for their grandchildren.
As soon as Hannah showed them the flyers, most of the women bought one, but so far Elizabeth had been the greatest attraction to date. The minute the women caught sight of the baby, everything stopped while they oohed and ahhed over her. Even the men couldn’t resist patting her on the head. While everyone lingered, the sales continued to mount.
After this long Hannah had thought Elizabeth would have grown used to the attention, but she invariably burst into tears and would cling to Hannah, hiding her head so no one could get a good look at her. In fact she’d been fussy since the last busload pulled away.
The museum was no place for a baby. Mr. Moench, an attorney and old family friend who’d helped find a reputable private investigator to look for her sister had intimated as much, and no one knew it better than Hannah. The heat could be suffocating by the end of the day.
But even if she could have come up with the money for a woman to baby-sit Elizabeth at the claustrophobic apartment in Laramie, Hannah couldn’t bear to be parted from her all day long. Her heart would have ached for the baby if they couldn’t be together. Hannah loved Elizabeth every bit as much as if she’d given birth to her.
The baby was thriving and doing the most amazing things. She was a miracle. Hannah didn’t want to miss a second of her development. Besides, Elizabeth needed her. She depended on her for literally everything…So there was no other choice but to make a difficult situation work, despite the obstacles.
Unfortunately after Hannah’s last trip to the car, the baby seemed worse and refused to be comforted. Hannah had fed her and changed her diaper, but still her tears increased. Maybe she’d caught a cold and her tummy was sick.
“There, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” she crooned to her, reaching out a hand to feel her cheeks and forehead. In this heat Hannah couldn’t tell if the two of them were just hot, or if the baby was running a temperature.
Growing more anxious, Hannah picked her up and started rocking her. When the baby cried harder, there was nothing to do but close the museum an hour early and take her to the nighttime pediatrics clinic in town. No matter how much she needed the money the store generated, Elizabeth’s health came first.
She quickly placed the Closed sign in the window, then emptied the money box in an envelope, which she put in her purse. Grabbing the diaper bag she headed for the door with Elizabeth, only to be bombarded by another group of tourists making their way through the entry.
Hannah couldn’t believe it. In her haste to get back to town, she hadn’t heard another tour bus drive up. The confusion and noise upset the baby even more. She began crying at the top of her lungs.
On the verge of telling everyone they would have to leave because she was taking the baby to the doctor, she heard a deep, rich male voice say, “Allow me.”
The next thing Hannah knew, a pair of bronzed, masculine hands came out of nowhere and plucked Elizabeth from her arms.
Caught off guard, Hannah spun around to find herself looking up at the breathtaking stranger from last night who seemed perfectly recovered after his accident.
He began whispering little French phrases to the baby that made Hannah’s insides quiver for no reason. Slowly he started kissing Elizabeth’s flushed cheeks.
At first the baby fussed, and though Hannah appreciated the stranger’s attempts to help, she was ready to take Elizabeth back when by some miracle she started to quiet down.
Each kiss he bestowed silenced her a little more until a smile quivered on her rosebud mouth and she forgot to cry. Her moist, awestruck green eyes stared at his incredible masculine looks in rapt absorption.
Hannah had to suppress a moan. Even Elizabeth at her tender age had fallen under this man’s powerful charisma and had become mesmerized by him. Within seconds she actually seemed content to be held close against his broad shoulder.
In absolute wonderment Hannah stood there and watched as the baby burrowed her face in his suntanned neck. That telling gesture not only meant Elizabeth felt secure, she craved the attention and comfort this man was willing to give her.
“Your husband certainly has a way with that adorable little girl of yours,” one of the elderly female tourists said loud enough for everyone around to hear. But Hannah was so stunned by what she was seeing, she couldn’t find the words to correct the woman’s erroneous assumption.
The stranger’s gaze found Hannah’s once more. His intelligent dark brown eyes, fringed by even darker lashes, slowly traveled over her upturned features, reducing her limbs to water.
In a quiet aside he said, “This is the least I can do after your heroic gesture for me last night. Go ahead and finish waiting on your customers while this golden cherub and I get better acquainted. What do I call her?”
“E—” Hannah had to clear her throat. “Her name is Elizabeth.”
CHAPTER TWO
“ELIZABETH.” She heard him repeat the name in the French way before he kissed her tiny nose and cheeks once more.
The baby’s mouth kept breaking into a smile. She was loving this! If she had a tummy ache, it didn’t seem to be bothering her right now.
Hannah couldn’t believe Elizabeth’s reaction to the stranger. The baby had never let anyone else get this close to her except Hannah. For one ridiculous moment Hannah actually found herself envious of the infant who appeared to have captivated the man’s attention so thoroughly.
He was so natural with her, Hannah imagined he must be a father several times over to know how to stop those tears. Of course a man like him would have a wife and family of his own, ring or no ring! It was ludicrous to believe anything else, let alone fantasize about him.
She quickly looked away and began waiting on the tourists lined up in front of the counter. For the next twenty minutes there was a steady stream of customers.
Every so often she stole a glance at the arresting stranger who moved back and forth with a slight limp while he rocked Elizabeth in his hard-muscled arms. Obviously content, the baby’s eyelids had lowered to half-mast. So far not one peep had come out of her.
Judging by his demeanor, you would never have guessed he’d been semiconscious from a car accident last night.
Eventually the museum emptied. His gaze captured hers. “Are you going back to Laramie tonight?” There was a hint of compassion in his deep voice and eyes as he scrutinized