The Baby Trail (Baby Bonds #2) Page 3

  She found herself smiling as she drove. Since when had lunch at The Silver Dollar seemed like a main event?

  Since Garrett Maxwell had extended the invitation.

  Not knowing what in the hell he was going to do with Gwen Langworthy, Garrett noticed her terrifically long legs covered by her deep violet slacks, the sway of her breasts and hips under her sweater. He spotted an empty table and they headed for it.

  The Silver Dollar was three-quarters full. It was a nice-sized restaurant decorated with ranch brands and lariats on the walls, alongside framed signed photographs of Roy Rogers and Gene Autry. But the western atmosphere barely registered as Garrett pulled out Gwen’s chair for her.

  Damn, she got to him in a way Cheryl never had. She was pushier than his ex-wife, franker, definitely more determined. In spite of himself, he wanted to know more about her and that was a big mistake. If he took this case, he’d just have to stay away from her.

  If he took this case? He was already hooked and he knew it.

  Stay away from Gwen Langworthy, he repeated to himself as if he had to translate the words from a foreign language. Standing behind her, looking down at her shiny auburn curls, all he wanted to do was sink his fingers into them. Well, that wasn’t all he wanted to do.

  Swiftly moving away from her perfume that smelled fruity and flowery all at the same time, he took the chair across from her and realized that his knees could too easily brush hers at the small table. It didn’t take Yoda shaking a spiny finger at him to warn him not to engage in physical contact. May the Force be with him.

  Before she opened her menu, her dark brown eyes met his. “How much do you charge?”

  “I don’t charge when I find children.”

  “As you pointed out, this isn’t a child.”

  He shrugged. “Same difference this time.”

  “I can’t let you—”

  He dismissively brushed her words away. “You’re not letting me do anything, and as I told you before, we might not find her.”

  “If this takes your time away from your other work, I need to reimburse you…for something.”

  “Let’s just see where it goes. My workload is moderate right now.” It would be until he heard the decision on the government contract he’d bid on.

  She leaned forward a little. “The article I read said you do security consulting work. What exactly is that?”

  “It varies.”

  When her eyes were still questioning, he knew she was going to come up with another inquiry. He remembered that determination he’d pegged in her. “I develop firewalls that are hacker-proof, along with suggesting physical systems for particular needs.”

  “You make Web sites secure? So that if I use my credit card number, nobody can filch it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Is that what you did for the FBI?”

  Now she was treading into territory where he didn’t want to go. “The skills I used in the FBI were varied.” If his job had only been concerned with Internet security maybe Cheryl wouldn’t have divorced him…maybe she wouldn’t have lost their child.

  “Classified?” she asked as if she knew what that was all about.

  He laughed. “Let’s just call it that and say the subject’s off-limits.”

  But she didn’t stop probing. “For personal or professional reasons?”

  It was time he stopped her get-to-know-you session, although at some point he hoped to turn the tables on her. He didn’t see a ring on her finger and wondered if she was involved with anyone.

  “This conversation has nothing to do with Baby Amy, and that’s who we came here to talk about.”

  “All right,” she acquiesced begrudgingly. “What are we going to do next?”

  Gazing into Gwen’s beautiful dark brown eyes, he almost lost his train of thought. Focusing again, he answered her. “My guess is, the couple wasn’t here more than a day. The fact that they bought the supplies they did at a convenience store rather than a grocery store or drugstore tells me they might have been passing through, maybe living out of the kid’s truck. Maybe the girl even had the baby in the truck.”

  “But if she wasn’t from here, why would she leave the baby with me? How did she know who I was?”

  “You tell me.” He had an idea, but he wanted to see if he was right.

  After Gwen fingered her menu and chewed on her lower lip—whether she knew it or not, the habit was damn sexy—she explained, “When I go to a town to set up a program, like Jackson Hole or Cheyenne, sometimes there’s an article in the paper about what I’m doing. But I don’t think anyone would see that and decide to leave a baby with me.”

  “That depends. I imagine it’s clearly stated that you’re an obstetrical nurse practitioner. That would qualify you to take care of a child. My guess is, if she’s not from Wild Horse Junction, the mother met you at one of your programs. I want you to make a list of any young girls you talked to within the past year.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “But I usually don’t know last names.”

  “I don’t care. Just try to get down names and if you can, picture faces with the names.”

  Suddenly Gwen’s serious expression was overtaken by a brilliant smile as she spotted somebody coming through the door. It was a couple with a baby who looked to be six to eight months old.

  The tall, sandy-haired man carrying the child and the pretty woman beside him came straight to Gwen. The two women hugged while the man looked on patiently. Then Gwen gave him a hug, too, baby and all. “It’s so good to see you. Are you all unpacked?”

  “Almost,” Gwen’s friend answered with a sideways glance at Garrett. “We have decorating to do, though. We’re using lots of Dylan’s photographs, of course, but I need some sconces and hangings.”

  “She really needs them,” the sandy-haired man joked, trying to suppress a smile.

  His wife playfully swatted his arm.

  Before the conversation developed further, Gwen gestured to Garrett, who had stood.

  “This is Garrett Maxwell. He’s helping me find Baby Amy’s mother. Garrett, this is Shaye and Dylan Malloy and their son Timmy. Shaye is the social worker I called.”

  Now the puzzle pieces fit. Garrett had seen the article in the Wild Horse Wrangler about Dylan Malloy’s show at the Flutes and Drums Gallery and how successful it had been. The man was a top-notch wildlife photographer. Garrett also remembered the write-up on the accident that had taken the lives of Dylan’s sister and brother-in-law in February. Timmy had been born right before his mother had died.

  Garrett shook hands with the husband and wife. Timmy was a cute little guy with blond hair and green eyes, but he was already getting itchy, squirming in Dylan’s arms.

  “Okay, big fella,” Dylan said. “We’ll pick up dinner and go.”

  “We called after church,” Shaye explained to Gwen. “We’re taking a meal out to Kylie.”

  “I spoke to her last night,” Gwen said. “I’m worried about her. Ever since Alex’s funeral, she’s been working twice as hard as she should while she’s pregnant. Now at over five months, she should be slowing down.”

  “I know.” Shaye shook her head. “That bull-riding accident didn’t just end Alex’s life, it left Kylie with a burden that’s too big to handle on her own.”

  “That’s why we’re going out to Saddle Ridge,” Dylan interjected. “She has a fence down and Dix hasn’t had time to get to it. I’m no expert, but I can rig up something.”

  After realizing they were keeping Garrett out of the conversation, Gwen turned to him. “We have a friend who was widowed in July. She’s taken on running the ranch with her foreman and it’s a lot to handle, especially with her being pregnant.”

  The cashier near the door waved to Dylan and Shaye and motioned to the takeout containers on the counter.

  As Timmy began to fuss louder, Dylan lifted him high and wiggled him a bit. “We’re going. We�
��re going.”

  Shaye gave Gwen’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll call you later.”

  After goodbyes all around, the Malloys went to the counter to pay for their dinner. Dylan’s arm curved around his wife’s waist as they waited for the cashier to ring up their food.

  “They’ve only been married since July,” Gwen told Garrett as she sat down once more. “They’re still newlyweds.”

  “I imagine it’s hard to be newlyweds with a baby.” Garrett kept his tone even. When he thought about the child he’d lost before it even had a chance, his insides went cold.

  “Timmy brought Shaye and Dylan together,” Gwen explained. “So they cherish every day with him.”

  “Timmy was Dylan’s sister’s child?”

  “Right. Are you from around here? Did you know Julia, Dylan’s sister?”

  “I was born here, but left when I was a teenager. Since I came back, I don’t socialize much. I didn’t know his sister.”

  “How long ago did you return?”

  He wondered if he was attracted to Gwen because she irritated him or in spite of the fact. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  Instead of being offended, she smiled sweetly. “How else am I going to learn what I want to know if I don’t ask questions?”

  Shaking his head, he had to chuckle. “I returned five years ago.” Now he turned the beacon of questioning on her life. “How long have you and Shaye Malloy been friends?”

  “Shaye and Kylie and I were pals in grade school. When Kylie skipped a grade, we kind of took her under our wings.”

  “Her husband died recently?”

  “Shortly after Shaye and Dylan’s wedding. We want to help her but she’s so independent. She insists on doing everything herself. As her pregnancy gets further along, I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

  “I’m not sure I understand. Why can’t she hire extra help?”

  “Have you heard of Saddle Ridge Ranch?”

  “Nothing lately. Jack Warner owned the place when I was younger. He raised cutting horses, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but his son Alex—” Gwen abruptly stopped. “I shouldn’t say anything else.”

  So Gwen wasn’t a gossip and she was loyal to her friends. Most of the women he’d known had been very competitive and a little thing like friendship wouldn’t have made a difference or gotten in the way of catching a man or achieving a higher level in a career.

  The waitress came over to them and they quickly glanced at the menus and ordered. As they ate the special of the day—roast beef, mashed potatoes and a vegetable medley—Garrett noticed Gwen finished almost all of it.

  “Do you work out?”

  Laying down her fork, she wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I work out at the Wagon Wheel Fitness Center. Why?”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “Because it’s been a long time since I saw a woman down mashed potatoes.”

  Spots of color came to her milky white cheeks that were dotted with a few freckles. “That’s an advantage to working out, I guess. I eat pretty much what I want.”

  As his gaze passed over her pale lilac sweater and the way the material clung to her breasts, his jeans got tight and not from the food he was eating.

  Retreating to safer territory, he remarked, “Now that Malloy’s married, I wonder what will happen to his career.” Garrett knew all about careers ruining marriages—first his dad’s, then his own. The thing was he’d become an FBI agent for a good reason and the idea of giving up his mission had been unthinkable. If his friend hadn’t been kidnapped when they were both nine, if he hadn’t felt a moral calling to right the world’s wrongs, maybe he could have given up his vocation and put all of his passion into his marriage. Maybe.

  “He’s changing how he works,” Gwen admitted. “He’s contracted for a book about the wild mustangs and another one on whales in Alaska. He’s determined not to let his work get in the way of his marriage.”

  “Work can do that,” Garrett muttered softly.

  “Yours got in the way of a relationship?”

  “Mine ended my marriage.” It was the first he’d ever said it out loud to another living person, and why he’d said it here, now, to Gwen Langworthy, he didn’t know. He didn’t like not knowing.

  Picking up the bill the waitress had left on the table, he glanced at it, pulled out his wallet, left a tip, stood and said, “I’ll take care of this. I want to ask the cashier a few questions.”

  The restaurant had emptied out and the cashier sat on the stool by the register, reading a romance novel. Romance might come alive in books, but that was the only place anybody would find it, Garrett decided as he made his way to her.

  By the time the cashier closed the book and stood, Gwen was by his side, the fruity-flowery scent of her annoying him, her energy invigorating him, her beauty capturing him. He fought against the capture.

  He was aware of Gwen watching him while he paid the bill. She was such a distraction, he wanted to put her outside while he completed his questioning. But he knew she wouldn’t stand for that.

  A few minutes later, to his surprise and Gwen’s, the cashier described the couple in more detail than the teenager at the convenience store, then pointed them toward the waitress who had been on duty that night.

  Mandy Jacobs remembered the couple. But foremost on her mind was batting her lashes at Garrett and flirting with him for all she was worth. “The girl had soup and the cute guy had a burger. They didn’t leave a tip, that’s why I remember them so well. That’s about all I know. I’ll ask around, Mr. Maxwell. I’ll be sure to contact you if any of the other girls saw anything or remember more than I do.”

  “That would be great,” he told her, handing her his card. “We appreciate all the help we can get.”

  Fluttering her lashes at him a few more times, she encouraged him, “You be sure to sit at my table next time you come in.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Garrett returned with a smile.

  Gwen hadn’t said a word during the interchange and as they stepped outside, she muttered, “Talk about charm.”

  “She probably does that with every man she waits on. Better tips.”

  “You didn’t do anything to discourage her.”

  Unreasonably, Garrett felt a bit of male satisfaction at Gwen’s comment. “She could have had information I needed, and she still could find out something. You just never know.”

  Stopping, he took Gwen’s arm. “Why would it bother you if she was flirting with me?”

  “It didn’t bother me,” Gwen protested quickly. “But she’s an impressionable young girl and if you give her hope…”

  “The Silver Dollar doesn’t hire anybody under eighteen so she’s not so young—not the way you mean, anyway. And…I never encourage anything more than answers to my questions.”

  When Gwen studied him for a very long time, he asked, “Are you involved with anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have a marriage that went south, too?”

  After a brief hesitation, she answered, “No, I didn’t get that far. My fiancé stood me up at the altar.”

  “On your wedding day?” Garrett was truly astonished by that piece of background.

  “On my wedding day. And I don’t intend to ever let that happen again. I’ll never again depend on a man to make me happy or trust a man the way I trusted Mark.” Moving away from him, maybe embarrassed because she’d said too much, she pointed to the decal on his SUV. “What’s that for?”

  “I belong to a network of pilots who help with search and rescue. That’s our logo.”

  “You’re a pilot?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you have your own plane?”

  “I inherited my dad’s.”

  “You lost him?” she asked so sympathetically he was reminded she’d known loss, too, albeit in a different way.

  “Yes. Seven years ago. In some ways it seems like yesterday and in others it seems like forever.” When his paren
ts divorced, he’d gone to live with his father. College had only been two years away and the judge had acceded to Garrett’s wishes to move to L.A. with his father rather than to Wisconsin with his mother. Losing his dad to cancer had been a blow he hadn’t expected.

  “Do you still have your mom?”

  “I sure do. She lives in Wisconsin now, and if I don’t faithfully call once a week, she worries.”

  His gaze on Gwen, he watched as a wave of sadness passed over her face. Was it the reference to motherhood? But before he could probe a bit, she said, “You’re a complicated man.”

  “No more complicated than you are.” Knowing that their conversation would soon lead to more personal territory that was better left unexplored, he asked, “Where are you going now?”

  “Back to the hospital. I want to hold Amy for a bit.”

  Immediately, he could envision Gwen holding that precious child and the turmoil inside him was too stormy to analyze. “I’ll follow you there. A nurse was going to see if she could find the clothes Amy was wearing the night she was brought in.”

  “I wonder why the sheriff didn’t take them. He looked at them, but didn’t take them.”

  “I don’t know what that was all about, but then Sheriff Thompson is near retirement age,” Garrett noted. “I’m not sure how much effort he puts into his work. We’ve butted heads a couple of times so I stay clear of him if I can. But I might have to pay him a visit.”

  They stood at Garrett’s SUV by the side of the building. Nobody came and went. Once in a while a few cars traveled up and down the street as the wind whipped Gwen’s curls across her cheek. Without fore-thought Garrett reached out to stroke them away.

  He should have known better than to touch her.

  Her eyes became luminescent and softly deep. The urge to kiss her was so strong, he could taste it. He could feel it in every part of his body, especially the ones that mattered. He stepped even closer…bent his head…

  The sun, which had been hiding behind a cloud, suddenly shone brightly and illuminated Gwen, sending firelight through her hair, giving him clarity about what he should and shouldn’t do.