In Protective Custody. Beth Cornelison
Laura’s neck bit harder with every minute of his silence. “Max, whose baby is—?”
“He’s my nephew.” The haunted, dark-eyed glance he sent her twisted inside her. “My sister’s in the hospital. She might…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “She might die. She asked me to protect her son from the men who just shot at us.”
Laura narrowed her eyes warily. “You lied to me earlier. When you said you’re his father.”
“Well, in a way, I am. A father figure at least. His real dad’s out of the picture, and—”
“Semantics! You still misled me. You let me believe he was yours!”
Returning his attention to the road, he blew out a harsh puff of air. “I saw no reason to explain. As soon as we got to my house, you were supposed to take your car and leave. The end. Goodbye. No sticky explanations.”
“I knew something was fishy.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her mouth. “I’m still not convinced I should trust you.”
His head whipped toward her, and pain riddled his eyes for an instant before he hardened his expression and tensed his jaw. “Elmer is my nephew. And until Emily gets out of the hospital, I’m his guardian. His protector. That’s the plain and simple truth.”
“What about the message on your answering machine? That guy thinks the baby belongs with him.”
“Elmer’s mother wants me to have him. That’s all you need to know.” He held her gaze, his own challenging her to believe him, penetrating to her core and stirring a restlessness in her.
Protect the baby.
She twisted toward the backseat to check on the newborn again. Elmer. How could anyone have named a baby so sweet and innocent something as awkward as Elmer?
Turning back around, she leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. What should she do? Did she dare believe Max? He’d lied to her twice. So how did she trust him now?
Fatigue permeated her to the bone. She longed for the calm and seclusion of her apartment. Even the microwave dinner she’d planned for supper held a certain appeal at this point.
She had decisions to make, but exhaustion numbed her mind too much to think straight.
Her only certainty was she had to do what was best for Elmer. No matter what. Her day care training, her personal experience with foster homes demanded she find out where this baby really belonged, where he would be safe, where he would be loved.
A groan from the driver’s seat called her attention to the ruggedly handsome man behind the wheel. He winced and rolled his injured shoulder.
“You need a doctor.”
“Naw. I’m all right. It’s just stiff.”
“You should go to a hospital and let someone—”
“No! It’s not serious.” He set his jaw in a stubborn glower. “Besides, a doctor would have to report a gunshot wound to the police. I can’t get the police involved.”
Another uneasy prick jabbed her. “Why not? Those men shot at us!”
He hesitated, checked his mirrors again and sighed. “Long story. But…I have to keep the baby with me. The police might take him and—” He sent her a sharp look and shook his head. “Forget it. Just trust me on this, okay?”
She grunted, and he scowled.
“Well, someone needs to clean the wound before it gets infected, and I can’t do it.” She sighed. “Blood makes me sick.”
Taking one hand from the steering wheel, he peeled back his shirt to examine his wound. “It’s really only a scratch. I’ll live.” He paused. “But thanks for your concern.”
The smile he gave her shone from his eyes and warmed his face. His crooked grin removed the hard, worried edge that had darkened his face from the moment she’d met him.
But handsome as he was, his desire to avoid the police, even with the dangerous men after them, baffled her. Bothered her. If Elmer was in some kind of danger, why wouldn’t Max involve the police?
And if the baby was at risk, how could she justify walking away? The baby’s safety was her utmost concern. Max had admitted he wasn’t the baby’s real father, had said Elmer’s real father was “out of the picture”—whatever that meant. The facts of this scenario only seemed to get murkier, more confusing. It seemed the real truth was she was Elmer’s best chance of being returned to the right hands. She needed to take the baby to the police, let the authorities straighten out the question of custody. But how did she get the infant away from Max?
“There’s a little town up ahead.”
She faced Max when he spoke.
“I’m going to stop at a car rental agency there. I need you to go in and rent a car for me. I’ll give you the cash.”
“Me?”
He met her curious look. “I can’t very well go in with a bloody shoulder. I’d raise too much suspicion. Once I have a different car, you’ll be free to go home.”
“That’s it? You’re dismissing me?”
Her comment earned a confused scowl from Max. “You want to go home, right?”
The promise of home and freedom made her spirits jump for joy. But soon after, her sense of responsibility to the infant reared its head. Her stomach clenched.
Protect the baby.
“Well—”
“I’ll pay for repairing your car, if that’s the problem.”
“No, I…”
“What?”
The sinking sun cast deep shadows across his face. The blood on his shirt had dried, leaving a dark vermilion blotch on his blue knit shirt. Max’s handgun lay across his lap, ready for the next brush with death. The man’s appearance screamed danger. Violence. Trouble.
Yet a niggling sensation in her gut wouldn’t be quieted. She had to look out for the innocent baby she’d cradled in her arms. No one had given her the job. Only her conscience, her love for children, her personal experience with being lost in the foster system prodded her to accept the position as the baby’s guardian. Along with her certainty that things with Max Caldwell weren’t what they seemed.
Protect the baby.
She’d worry about getting away from Max and sorting through the facts later. Right now, baby Elmer needed her. Spurred by her determination to assure the baby’s safety, she made her decision and wouldn’t look back.
“I’m not going home. I’m staying with you.”
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