Ranger's Baby Rescue. Lara Lacombe
a moment, she flipped it around so he could look at it.
“That’s my love,” she said, choking up a bit.
Matt had to admit her daughter was a beautiful child. She had her mother’s curly dark hair and heart-shaped face. But her eyes were startlingly blue, like a cloudless summer sky. Deep dimples reminded him of a cherub, and her toothless smile held such joy Matt couldn’t help but smile back.
Seeing her made his heart ache for the child he’d lost. Even though he hadn’t been the father of Jennifer’s child, he’d been well on his way to falling in love with the little guy.
“How old is she?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the picture.
“Ten months,” Emma replied.
Almost a year, he thought. A little older than Fisher had been when the DNA test results had proved Matt wasn’t his father. Did babies that young have memories? It broke his heart to think that Fisher, now three years old, might remember him or feel abandoned because he’d left.
Matt cleared his throat, trying to cast off his melancholy. “Too young to be away from you for long,” he said.
Emma nodded. “She’s eating solids now, so as long as Joseph has baby food she won’t starve. But she still likes a bottle, and he won’t know that.”
“We’ll find her,” Matt said. The thought of that innocent baby crying from hunger made his own stomach twist with anxiety. He hadn’t considered all the logistical reasons why Christina needed her mother—he’d just assumed maternal love was driving Emma’s sense of urgency. But now he realized all the practical issues involved—the diaper changes, feeding, dressing, rocking. All tasks that could technically be completed by anyone with half a brain, but from the baby’s perspective, her needs had only ever been met by her mother. To have a stranger caring for her now had to be stressful and frightening.
All the more reason to get out there and start looking.
“Send me that photo, please.” He rattled off his email address. “And send me any pictures you have of your brother.”
Her fingers flew across the screen of her phone. “Done.”
A moment later he heard the chime indicating a new email. He inserted the photos into the flyer and hit Print.
The printer across the room hummed to life and began spitting out pages. He walked over and grabbed the stack, bringing it back to his desk.
Emma reached for a sheet. She studied it carefully, her gaze lingering on the page. Her scrutiny made Matt self-conscious; hopefully he hadn’t made any spelling errors or other glaring mistakes.
It was a simple flyer, showing both Christina and Joseph and asking visitors to report any sightings to the park rangers or the police. He’d distribute some among his coworkers as well, so they all knew to keep their eyes open. The more people aware of the situation, the better the chance of finding Emma’s daughter.
“This looks good.” Emma returned the page to the top of the stack and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands.
Sympathy welled in Matt’s chest at the sight of her obvious pain. “I can change things if you want,” he offered, unsure of how to comfort her. Had it been a mistake to create the flyers? But how else could they spread the word?
She shook her head. “No, they look great. I just never imagined I’d see my baby’s face on a missing person poster, you know?”
“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you,” Matt said. Walking away from Fisher was the hardest thing Matt had ever done, and he’d only known the little guy for a few weeks. Emma was functioning amazingly well for a mother whose child had been kidnapped—he didn’t think he would be so tough if he were in her shoes.
“She’s my world,” Emma said, sniffing. “I’ll never stop looking for her.”
But why are you searching alone? he wondered. Based on the little he knew, he didn’t think Christina’s father was in the picture. Why not? Emma didn’t look like the anonymous one-night stand type; being deployed while in the army had made him an expert of sorts at spotting the women who hung around base, only wanting a quick roll in the hay. No, he could tell Emma was the kind of woman who did relationships. She had a girl-next-door appeal that screamed “wife and family.” She was the type he and his army buddies had talked about settling down with after they’d had their adventures.
Of course, Jennifer had been like that, too. That hadn’t exactly turned out well for him. Maybe something similar had happened between Emma and the father of her baby?
It really wasn’t any of his business, but curiosity got the better of him. “Where is Christina’s dad?” Not the most delicate way to ask the question, but since Matt was going to be spending the foreseeable future with Emma, he wanted to know why the father of her child wasn’t out beating the bushes, as well.
Her lips tightened, and for a second, he thought she wasn’t going to answer the question. Then she spoke, her voice low. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting, and Matt felt like a world-class idiot for pressing the issue. “I’m so sorry.”
Emma jerked one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “You couldn’t have known.”
No, but he could have been a bit more sensitive. He had to stop thinking the worst of people; not every woman was a liar like Jennifer.
He cleared his throat, needing to change the subject. “I’ll leave these out front, so people will see them. Let’s start getting supplies together, and then I can hit the trails.”
“You mean we can hit the trails,” she said.
Matt bit his bottom lip, cursing silently. Did the woman ever miss anything? “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea for you to accompany me—” he tried, but she cut him off.
“I have to go with you. I can’t stay here doing nothing.”
Matt took a deep breath and tried a different tack. “I know you’re frustrated and feeling helpless, but it’s best if you stay behind. What if your brother tries to call? Cell service in the more remote areas of the park is patchy at best.”
Emma frowned, as if she hadn’t considered that possibility before. Matt began to relax, thinking she’d accepted reason.
But she shook her head again. “It’s a chance I’ll have to take.”
Okay, he was clearly going to have to be a little rude to get her to listen. “Look, I can’t take you with me. You’ll slow me down and limit how much ground I can cover at a time.”
“No, I won’t.” She sounded supremely confident. He ran his eyes over her body, looking for clues as to her fitness. Her oversize T-shirt didn’t reveal much—from this angle, he couldn’t tell if she was all softness and curves or lean, toned muscle.
Did it matter? At this point, he knew she would follow him whether he wanted her to or not. Perhaps he should give in. If it turned out she couldn’t keep up with him, he could send her back to the ranger station. But if he remained stubborn and refused to let her join him, he’d be distracted by worries that she was out there wandering the park alone and with no one to help her should she find trouble.
“All right,” he said finally. “I guess we’ll find out if that’s the truth.” It shouldn’t take long for her to realize she was out of her depth, and by that time, she’d likely be all too happy to return to the refuge of the ranger station. “We can start as soon as I get my bag packed. Do you have supplies?” Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d say no.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m all set in that area.”
He nodded. “I’d like to look at what you brought, make sure you have the essentials.” Experience had taught him that hikers didn’t always bring the