The Colton Ransom Page 2

  Oh, hell, what did he know? He supposed that it wasn’t quite fair for him to assume something like that. She had to know more than he did.

  When she finally reached him, Trevor tipped his black Stetson at her, murmured “Ms. Gabby” politely enough and continued walking.

  It took Gabby a moment to summon her courage—there was something really intimidating about the tall, muscular former law-enforcement officer. But his wailing daughter made her forget about her own discomfort, leaving her no choice.

  “Trevor, wait,” Gabby called out, hurrying to catch up to him. The man had one hell of a lengthy stride, especially when he walked quickly.

  It irked Trevor that because he was an employee at the ranch, he had to stop the moment he heard her calling to him. But he was mindful of his position, so he stopped, using up the last of his patience in an effort not to snap out “Yes, ma’am” at the twenty-four-year-old.

  “She’s really crying up a storm, isn’t she?” Gabby said as she caught up to him.

  Nothing he found more irritating than someone stating the obvious.

  “Certainly sounds that way,” Trevor replied, managing to take the edge out of his voice at the last possible moment.

  “Do you know why she’s crying?” she asked him.

  “If I knew why, Ms. Gabby, I’d know how to get her to stop,” he answered, measuring out each word carefully and counting the seconds until the young woman left him alone.

  “Most likely she’s crying because she’s cranky and needs a nap.”

  Avery wasn’t the only one. “You think that’s it?” he asked out loud. Trevor felt completely wiped out. Being on all-night stakeouts had been far easier than what he’d been going through each night lately. Becoming a father literally overnight and putting up with the exhausting demands of a wailing infant these past two weeks had all but completely drained him to the point that most of the time now, he felt punchy. His last decent night’s sleep had occurred before she’d been thrust into his arms—literally and figuratively.

  “I’m fairly certain,” Gabby replied. And then she grinned broadly as an idea hit her. “I tell you what, you hold Cheyenne here and I’ll take your daughter and put her down for a nap. Might perk her right up,” she predicted. “How’s that?” she asked, her grin widening to the point that he thought he was going to fall in.

  He inclined his head, ready to agree to anything that would give him even a few minutes’ respite. “I’d be in your debt, ma’am.”

  She rolled her eyes at the salutation he used. “Oh, please. Having you call me ‘Ms. Gabby’ is bad enough. Please don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel absolutely ancient.”

  Trevor laughed shortly at the assessment. “Well, if it’s one thing you’re not, it’s ancient,” he told her. To him, especially since he had ten years on her, Gabriella Colton was barely older than a child.

  Gabby, however, took his response to be on the flirtatious side. Consequently, a slight blush crept up her cheeks. Dusting them with a pink hue.

  Clearing her throat, she tried to draw attention away from the momentary infusion of color. “Okay, give me Avery, and you hold Cheyenne for a few minutes.”

  The shift took a little maneuvering to accomplish since there was nowhere to put either infant down to achieve the swap smoothly.

  As he handed over his daughter and took hold of Gabby’s tranquil niece, Trevor felt his knuckles brush against something soft.

  By the expression on the young woman’s face—first startled, then embarrassed—he realized that he’d unwittingly brushed his knuckles against her breasts. That had not been his intention.

  “Sorry,” Trevor mumbled awkwardly.

  Gabby murmured a perfunctory “It’s okay,” deliberately avoiding making any eye contact. She drew his daughter against her, focusing on the infant’s wails of distress. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re going to take you inside and make sure you take a nice, peaceful nap. Everything’ll be all better when you wake up again. I promise.”

  The instant his daughter left his arms, Trevor felt relief washing over him. Just to be rid of his wailing burden for even a few minutes felt like a much-longed-for blessing.

  Trevor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked up into Gabby’s bright green eyes. “Thanks,” he told her dutifully.

  Patting the baby’s bottom and cooing to her, Gabby glanced over to Avery’s father and smiled serenely. “Don’t mention it.”

  She sounded as if she meant it. Obviously crying babies didn’t seem to have any effect on her or her nerves. That put her one up on him, Trevor couldn’t help thinking.

  “I’ll be right back,” Gabby promised, turning on her heel and walking toward the entrance to the main wing of the house. The wing where the Coltons—she, her two older sisters, Amanda and Catherine, and her father—all lived. There was another wing for the staff and wranglers as well as a wing at the very farthest end of the mansion where her father’s ex-wife—his third—lived with her two adult children from a previous marriage, Tawny and Trip.

  It made for crowded living conditions at times, but on days like today, when everyone was gone, it felt as if she had an entire castle at her disposal.

  Gabby smiled to herself as she entered the house.

  Trevor gazed down warily at the infant in his arms. Part of him was waiting for the tiny female to burst into tears. But Cheyenne Colton remained quiet, staring up at him as if he were the newest wonder to come into her world.

  “I guess all babies don’t cry all the time,” Trevor theorized out loud.

  Gabby Colton’s niece was almost exactly the same age as his newly discovered daughter. But that was where, in his mind, the similarity ended. To his recollection, the infant he was currently holding hardly even whimpered, much less cried.

  On the other hand, it seemed as if Avery had done nothing but cry in the time she’d been with him. She’d worn away just about all of his nerves—not that he’d had all that many available to begin with.

  “Maybe she’s just grumpy—like her old man,” he guessed out loud.

  When he realized that he was actually talking to an infant, he abruptly stopped, feeling somewhat chagrined and annoyed with himself.

  Cheyenne looked up at him and gurgled as if to tell him that it was all right.

  * * *

  “You’re not really a crybaby, are you?” Gabby said soothingly to the infant she was taking upstairs with her. “It’s all just new and scary to you, isn’t it? Not that I can actually blame you.

  “Your daddy’s a really handsome man,” Gabby went on. “And he’d look even more so if he just learned to smile once in a while. That scowl of his, though, I’ve got to admit is pretty scary,” she said, as if agreeing with something the infant in her arms had just told her. “Don’t worry. He’ll come around,” Gabby promised the baby with certainty. “He’ll see what a sweet little thing you can really be once you get used to everything, and his heart can’t help but melt then.”

  Coming to the landing, Gabby made an impulsive decision. “Tell you what, since Cheyenne’s already had her nap for the afternoon, why don’t we put you in her room so you can have a nice roomy crib to sleep in?”

  She shifted the infant so that she could look down into the small, round face, as if she were actually gauging the baby’s reaction.

  “Would you like that, sugar? Sure you would,” she told the child. “She’s got a room—and a crib—that are really pretty. They’re both fit for a little princess. I don’t mind telling you that her aunt Catherine and I had a hand in that,” Gabby went on proudly, sharing a confidence. “Catherine and I decided that her mommy needed something to cheer her up and get her mind off Cheyenne’s daddy taking off before she was even born. He didn’t even wait to find out if she was okay,” Gabby added sadly. She couldn’t understand someone behaving that way and felt that both Amanda and Cheyenne were better off without that man in their lives.

  “So we went all out and dec
orated the nursery as if Cheyenne were really a little princess. Today, you get to be that little princess for the afternoon,” she told Avery in a purposely breathless voice. The baby’s eyes were widening, as if she were literally digesting every word. “How about that, baby girl?” she asked, her smile now spreading from ear to ear.

  Gabby’s smile grew even wider since the baby had stopped crying and actually seemed to be listening to the sound of her soothing, upbeat cadence.

  That was what the baby needed, Gabby decided. To have someone talk to her as if she were a person, not just this—this thing to be saddled with, she concluded for lack of a better description.

  The only problem was, Gabby thought, how did she go about saying that to Trevor? She knew that the man probably wouldn’t take kindly to being told how to act toward his daughter. She doubted if Trevor was the kind to be open to any advice at all, constructive or not.

  Still, she did have his best interests at heart. His and Avery’s. All she wanted to do was just help both of them.

  “Maybe he’ll feel better after you wake up all rested and happy from your nap. You think so?” she asked. The baby made a noise that sounded a little like a squeak. “No, me neither. But we can always hope for the best, can’t we?” she asked.

  Leaning against the door, Gabby maneuvered the door lever with her elbow, managing to open it. She then pushed the door open with her back, angling her way into the large, airy bedroom.

  The nursery was decorated in all soft pinks and whites. All in all, it did indeed look like a bedroom fit for a princess, right down to the canopied white crib with its delicate musical mobile depicting fairies floating above her.

  “Well, here it is, your very own princesslike crib for the afternoon,” Gabby declared.

  After laying the infant gently down on her back, Gabby began to rub the baby’s tummy in slow, concentric circles. It was meant to soothe Avery and help the little girl fall asleep.

  Within a few minutes, the soothing, rhythmic motion worked wonders in calming the infant down. Just as she’d hoped.

  A couple of whimpers and one near sob later, the little girl’s eyes began to flutter shut.

  Gabby smiled to herself. “That’s my girl—just let it happen. Just let your eyelids get heavy and fall into place. Everything will still be waiting for you when you wake up again. I promise,” she added in a soft, melodic whisper.

  Several minutes went by. Gabby was fairly sure the baby had fallen asleep.

  Just to be certain, Gabby remained standing beside the crib a little longer. She didn’t want to take a chance on the infant waking up and wailing again.

  Gabby didn’t know how anyone else dealt with a crying baby, but she was not partial to the school of thought that chose to ignore the infant for the first few minutes of a crying jag. She instantly picked up Cheyenne any time she heard the baby crying, feeling that it was important to make the infant feel secure and safe. To her way of thinking, picking Cheyenne up when she cried accomplished just that.

  So Gabby continued to linger, humming a fragment of a lullaby and massaging Avery’s tummy until the sound of the baby’s even, steady breathing told her that she really was asleep.

  Holding her breath, Gabby quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom, then eased the door closed. She paused for a moment longer, listening at the door.

  Satisfied that Avery was indeed fast asleep, Gabby hurried off. She still had a niece to reclaim—not to mention a dour head of security to rescue.

  Chapter 2

  Trevor wasn’t where she’d left him.

  Gabby blew out a breath as a sliver of frustration zipped through her.

  But then, what did she expect? Dead River’s head of security wasn’t the type to stand still or be pigeonholed. And although, even after all this time, she didn’t know a great deal about him, she did know that he was unpredictable.

  Her fault, Gabby told herself with a sigh. She shouldn’t have assumed that since she’d left Trevor standing outside the front of the house, holding her niece, that when she came back, he’d still be there, waiting for her with the baby in his arms.

  With her hands on her hips, Gabby impatiently scanned the immediate area in hopes of spotting the man.

  She didn’t.

  The tall, silent ex-cop was apparently nowhere in sight.

  “Okay, Mr. Head-of-Security,” Gabby said, addressing the air, “if you’re not going to be here, waiting for me to come take my niece off your hands, just where would you be?”

  Gabby glanced over her shoulder at the house she’d just left. It wasn’t as if she could just do a quick sweep of it, looking for him. The house where she and her family lived was huge, with several wings stretched out across the property. The actual number of rooms within the house had never been pinned down. She could be wandering around for hours, especially if Trevor didn’t remain stationary himself.

  Hours? She could literally be playing hide-and-seek with the man for the rest of the month and not stumble across him as long as he was moving around, too.

  Gabby chewed her lower lip, frustrated. She should have asked him to stay put, but it had never occurred to her that, since he was holding her niece, he would not just eagerly wait for her to come back so he could be freed of his charge.

  No good deed went unpunished, right? Gabby thought sarcastically.

  Still looking around the immediate area, Gabby debated what the man’s logical move would be. She sincerely doubted that he would have taken Cheyenne back to his room in the employees’ wing. Somehow, she saw Trevor as wanting his room to remain off-limits to people—any people—unless they were specifically invited. Moreover, something told her that she definitely wouldn’t make that most likely extremely short list.

  That left where?

  His office! The idea just suddenly occurred to her.

  Gabby headed there immediately, mentally crossing her fingers that she was right. Because if Trevor wasn’t there, she really didn’t have the foggiest where he might be and it was getting close to feeding time for Cheyenne. She wanted to find the infant before then.

  The little girl had a rather happy disposition, but if she grew hungry, really hungry, who knew how she might react? If her niece began fussing the way Avery had, she had a feeling that Trevor would be ready to wipe his hands of any and all babies for good—and that certainly wouldn’t bode well for Avery’s future here at the ranch.

  Hurrying back into the house, Gabby made her way through the first floor to the man’s small, closetlike office, all the while hoping against hope that she’d find him there with her niece.

  As she drew closer to the man’s office, Gabby thought she heard the sound of Trevor’s voice. It was far too low for her to make out the words, but at least the tone sounded fairly good. The important thing was that he did not sound as if he was at the end of his rope, the way he had earlier. And that was definitely good for her niece, and, with any luck, it might also be good for Avery as well.

  Gabby approached the cluttered office and saw that Trevor was sitting at his desk, his chair pushed sufficiently back to accommodate him and the baby he still had in his arms.

  From the looks of it, Cheyenne had fallen asleep in his arms.

  Gabby stood there for a moment, taking in the scene and wishing she had a camera to preserve the moment. But then, she probably couldn’t take the shot anyway. The flash might wake up her niece.

  “See, I knew you had it in you,” Gabby said out loud to him, although she knew to keep her voice down to a low whisper.

  Only maximum control kept Trevor from starting in response to the unexpected sound of her voice.

  He’d been too preoccupied, marveling at the peaceful way the infant he was temporarily in charge of had just drifted off to sleep without any encouragement at all. One minute, the baby’s incredibly blue eyes were wide open, taking in everything around her, the next minute, they had drifted shut, the long black lashes seemingly resting like soft, silky, spidery crescents on the slig
ht swell of her small, pink cheeks.

  A little bit of envy had tugged at his soul when he’d watched her. If he had to have a kid, why couldn’t he have one like this, he wondered, rather than the wailing banshee he’d got? It was a horrible thing for him to think, but he hadn’t asked for this situation.

  Nothing ever seemed to take the easy route in his world, Trevor thought in a moment of resigned frustration. Somehow, according to some vast eternal plan, it stood to reason that the cranky kid would be the one he’d wind up with. Maybe this was appropriate.

  Lost in thought like that, lamenting his current state and annoyed with himself because of it, Trevor hadn’t heard Gabby coming up behind him and, barring the control he could exercise over himself, he would have very nearly jumped.

  As it was, it took the man several long seconds to gather himself together sufficiently in order to answer her.

  “All I did was hold her,” he answered Gabby, turning his swivel chair around so that he faced her. “She did the rest.” He nodded at the baby he was holding.

  If this Colton woman was trying to flatter him into thinking that he was up to the task of caring for this daughter who had materialized out of nowhere, it wasn’t going to work. He knew exactly what he was and wasn’t capable of and raising a kid fell into the latter category.

  “You’re just being modest,” Gabby told him, dismissing his words with a careless wave of her hand. She’d never met a man who shied away from taking any credit the way this man did. “I bet you’d be a natural if you just gave yourself half a chance.”

  Gabby said the words with such conviction, he could only stare at her in absolute wonder. Did she actually believe what she was saying? Or did she just think she could hypnotize him into believing her? Either way, it wasn’t happening.

  When he finally had a chance to get a word in edgewise, all he could do was shake his head. And then, curious, he had to ask, “Do your horses ever come back to the stable?”

  Because he’d worked the streets as a police officer, he’d come across a lot of people in his time, but he could honestly say that he had never met anyone who just radiated supreme optimism and babbled incessantly about everything eventually being right in the world. Gabriella Colton did just this. Every bit of her seemed hell-bent on brightening her surroundings. For his part, he’d seen too much of life’s underbelly to dip into that well water the boss’s youngest daughter was drinking. People were either good or bad, and given a choice between the two, people usually went with the latter.