Ranger's Baby, page 4
At the same time, he had to keep them safe from harm. With Caity staying at the ranch, she’d be safe among his family.
Fiona would be another matter altogether. How was he supposed to keep her safe when she stepped into harm’s way every day she worked as a deputy sheriff?
Chapter 4
Fiona stared down at Mrs. McKinnon and Molly playing with Caity and regretted keeping the secret for so long. The McKinnon clan had always been a tight-knit family. Caity would be well loved in their midst. She deserved to know all of her family—grandparents, uncles and aunt. And they deserved to be with the beautiful baby girl who looked so much like them.
Truth was, Fiona felt some of the burden of raising her daughter alone shift off her shoulders. It was at once a scary and a liberating feeling. With both of her parents gone, she’d felt her job left Caity vulnerable.
She’d shared the information about her child’s father with Sheriff Barron, with instructions that, if anything happened to her, he was to notify Duncan immediately. If he’d been unable to contact Duncan, he was to go to the McKinnon family and let them take Caity in until such a time as Fiona recovered, if she recovered at all.
Mrs. McKinnon rose from the floor, her gaze remaining on Caity. “I’ll be right back, Caity, after I help your mommy get settled.”
Then she turned to Fiona and hugged her. “Thank you so much for sharing her with us.” She turned toward the staircase with a sigh. “It’s been so long since there’s been a baby in this house, I don’t know how to act.”
“You raised five children beautifully,” Fiona said. “You’re a natural.”
Mrs. McKinnon laughed. “I don’t know about that. We didn’t have a guide book. James was hard on them a lot of the time, but they knew we loved them and only wanted the best for them.”
Fiona remembered how the taciturn McKinnon patriarch had scared her with his gruffness, but how he could be so gentle with his wife.
She touched the woman’s arm. “We’re still looking for him,” Fiona assured her.
She gave Fiona a wobbly smile. “I know you’re doing the best you can. The house just isn’t the same without his booming voice and huge presence.”
With a nod, Fiona followed her up the stairs to Duncan’s bedroom. She smiled as she entered. It appeared much as it had when he’d been in high school. They’d spent many evenings sitting cross-legged on the bed, going over chemistry and algebra, preparing for tests. She’d helped him with history and English assignments, and he’d helped her with anything to do with math.
A lump formed in her throat.
His mother chuckled as she looked around the room. “We’ll have to redecorate this room. It seems to have been frozen in time over a decade ago.” She shook her head. “If I had known you two were a thing back then, I wouldn’t have let you study in his room unchaperoned.”
Fiona snorted. “Trust me, we weren’t any more than friends back then. He was the football star with cheerleaders hanging all over him. I was the tomboy who would rather have been out riding than doing my hair.” She raised a hand to her slicked back hair. If she let it loose, it framed her face in a mass of riotous, dark red curls. “I’d still rather ride horses than do my hair. I was lucky to have him as a friend.”
“Sweetheart, he was lucky to have you. You kept him grounded when the other girls were all about the drama.” Mrs. McKinnon smiled gently. “And you were kind enough to go with him to the senior prom when his date called it off at the last minute.” She fisted a hand on her hip. “How in the world did you find a dress at such a late date?”
Fiona shrugged. “I guess I got lucky.” And boy had she. Her mother had insisted on her attending her prom, even though she didn’t have a date. She’d made Fiona go on a dress shopping expedition that had made her want to tear out her hair. When they’d found a dress they could both live with, Fiona had snatched it up and marched toward the counter, ready to get the hell out of the shop and back outside where she felt more at home.
Sticker shock set in when the clerk rang up her choice. Fiona told the clerk never mind. She wasn’t that interested in the dress after all. She’d walked out the door, climbed into the family SUV and waited for her mother, who’d taken an inordinate amount of time telling the clerk she wouldn’t be buying the dress.
When her mother came out of the shop carrying a garment bag, Fiona’s heart dropped into her belly. Her mother had spent a small fortune on a single dress. Fiona couldn’t disappoint her by telling her she didn’t feel well and wouldn’t be going to the prom after all.
She’d felt like her dress would be her date—until the night before prom, when Duncan called, asking her to go to the prom as his date.
Even so many years later, she could still feel the flutter of her nerves as she’d let her mother apply makeup she never wore. She’d fixed her crazy hair, sweeping it up into a messy bun on the crown of her head. Long tendrils had spiraled down around her ears, driving her insane throughout the night.
But the look Duncan had given her when he’d arrived to pick her up in his father’s shiny black truck had been worth the effort. He’d stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.
Heat had rushed up into her cheeks and down to pool low in her loins. Fiona had always been more than halfway in love with Duncan since she’d sat beside him in the fourth grade.
Seeing him in the rented tuxedo, sporting a tight, white rosebud in his lapel, his hair slicked back and a single dark strand falling over his forehead had made her heart skip beats and butterflies flutter in her belly. That was the night she’d started dreaming about being kissed by the handsome football jock. She’d known she was the replacement date, but she couldn’t help fantasizing about the young man and wishing he could see her as more than just a friend. She’d been stuck in the friend zone for so long, she hadn’t thought she’d ever pull herself out without damaging that friendship. So, she hadn’t.
They’d gone to prom. His friends had all given him hell about his date dumping him the day before, but then stared at her as if they’d never met her.
Duncan had treated her like his date, presenting her with a rose corsage he clumsily pinned to her dress, his knuckles brushing against the swell of her breasts.
That had started her blood thrumming through her veins. Until that moment, she’d been okay with being relegated to the friend zone. After he’d touched her once, she’d known she could never go back. She loved Duncan McKinnon with all of her heart. And she could never tell him. God forbid he insist on marrying the mother of his child, for the sake of Caity.
Deep down, Fiona had hoped Duncan would contact her and profess his love for her rather than be forced into a relationship because of a baby. The real reason she hadn’t contacted him was because she’d wanted him to love her as much as she loved him. For herself. Not for Caity. Caity was a bonus, but children only stuck around for eighteen or twenty years. Fiona wanted Duncan for a lifetime.
Mrs. McKinnon helped her set up the crib Colin brought down from the attic. “I’ll wash the sheets I had for the mattress. I’m sure they’re dusty after decades in storage.”
“Thank you for all you’re doing for us.”
Mrs. McKinnon waved a hand. “I should be thanking you. James and I have been wishing for grandchildren for the past ten years. But none of our offspring seemed to be in a hurry to provide additional McKinnons. I really thought it would be Angus. Now that he and Bree are together, I expect there will be wedding bells soon and babies shortly after.” The woman clasped her hands together and smiled. “The cousins will grow up together. It all makes my heart sing.” Her smile faded. “James would be beside himself. That big, old gruff demeanor of his hides a teddy bear who loves the babies. He’ll be so happy when he comes home.”
When.
Fiona’s heart squeezed hard inside her chest. Mrs. McKinnon held out hope they’d find her husband alive. After the first forty-eight hours, Fiona figured his chances of resurfacing on his own two feet were getting slimmer by the minute.
Not wanting to squash the woman’s optimism, she nodded. “I love that Caity will grow up around her grandparents. I never knew mine.”
“Darling,” Mrs. McKinnon touched her arm, “your parents were middle-aged when you came along. I was sad to hear when they passed. But don’t you worry, we’ll shower our little Caity-did with all the grandparent love she can stand.”
Fiona nodded, the back of her throat burning from unshed tears.
Mrs. McKinnon started to pull clothes out of the drawers and set them on the bed.
“Wait,” Fiona said. “Are those Duncan’s?”
Mrs. McKinnon paused with a handful of T-shirts. “Yes, they are.”
“Does the room he’ll be sleeping in have a dresser and a closet?” Fiona asked,
“No,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “But he can live out of his suitcase for now. He might not be here for long.”
The thought of Duncan leaving again so soon made her heart tighten into a knot. The last time he’d been to the ranch, he’d only been there for a week. “How long does he have here, this time?”
“He told me he’d stay until James is found.” The McKinnon matriarch glanced toward the window. “I don’t know if that will happen before he runs out of leave. At the rate we’re going, it might take a while.”
Fiona selfishly wished Duncan would stay forever. If they weren’t meant to be together as a couple, he would at least be close enough to be a part of his daughter’s life. Caity would love her father and his family as much as Fiona. And she’d be accepted more readily.
Who couldn’t love that cherubic smile?
After they finished changing the sheets on the bed and putting away the clothes Fiona had brought with her, Fiona and Mrs. McKinnon descended to the first floor to find Duncan on his back on the floor, holding Caity above him, his brothers watching, with grins on their faces.
The infant giggled and flapped her arms, a huge smile on her face.
“Look, Fee, she likes to fly,” Duncan said. “I’ll have you parachuting before you’re fifteenth birthday.”
Fiona gasped. “Oh, no you will not. She’ll keep her feet firmly planted on the ground.”
Duncan winked up at Fiona. “Thought that would get your goat.” He smiled up at his daughter. “You’ll have to wait until you’re eighteen to make your own decision.”
Seeing him down on the floor with Caity warmed Fiona’s heart. Even if he didn’t love her, he would come to love his daughter. Already, Caity had a way of wrapping adults around her chubby little fingers.
“You want me to take her?” Fiona asked.
“No, I’ve got her until she cries.”
“Can you hold her still for a moment?” Fiona reached out to touch her daughter’s diaper. It felt warm and heavy. “She needs to be changed. Are you up to it?”
Instantly, the smile on his face fell away. “I don’t know. What do I do?”
Molly laughed. “This is rich. The football jock, badass Ranger looks a little scared about changing a baby’s diaper.”
He glared at his sister. “When was the last time you changed a diaper?”
Molly’s smile faded. “She wasn’t talking about me.”
“Yeah, well, until you’ve changed a diaper, keep your jabs to yourself.” He rolled to his feet, holding onto Caity as he came up. He bent to scoop up the diaper bag and set it out the couch. Then he dropped down on the cushion, hooking an arm around Caity’s belly. “Come on squirt, it’s time your daddy learned how to change a diaper.”
Fiona chuckled. “Are you going to wing it? Or do you need help?”
“How hard can this be?”
Fiona grimaced. “You might want to get down on the floor with her the first time. She tends to wiggle a lot.”
He frowned. “Okay.” Duncan adjusted his position and eased to the floor, wincing when pain shot through his bad leg. He bit back a curse and settled Caity on the rug between his legs. Then he looked for the way into the one-piece outfit she wore.
“There are snaps at the crotch,” Fiona said, holding back her laughter. The tough guy who always studied up before his next play was going in blind on this one. And Fiona didn’t want to give him too much information. He seemed to want to do it on his own.
He fumbled with the snaps, finally freeing all three, and then pulled the tabs free on the sides of the diaper.
When he drew the diaper down, he leaned back, his face screwing up in horror. “Holy hell, what crawled up in this kid and died?”
Fiona, Mrs. McKinnon, Molly, Angus, Colin and Sebastian all burst out laughing.
Duncan quickly covered Caity with the edge of the diaper and glared at his family. “It’s not funny. I think she’s sick or something.”
Fiona brushed the tears from her eyes and shook her head. “Do you want me to take over? Changing a poopy diaper is hard on even the toughest of us.”
“No. She’s my daughter. I need to know how to do this.” He dug in the diaper bag for a fresh diaper and the wipes. Pulling out ten or twelve of the wipes, he squared his shoulders, drew in a deep breath and held it while he attacked the situation again.
Fiona caught herself wanting to lean over and help him, but he’d insisted he could do it on his own. So, she held back and let him go for it.
Mrs. McKinnon stood by, biting her lip. Fiona could tell she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.
Duncan peeled back the soiled diaper and blinked as if the room had just filled with tear gas.
He started to take the diaper out from under her but stopped when the nasty stuff smeared. “How do you keep it from getting on the floor,” he said, his voice strained.
Molly squatted next to him on the floor. “I think you have to hold her up by the ankles with one hand and wipe the stuff off with the other.”
Caity laughed and kicked, getting her feet into the mess in the diaper.
“Holy sh—”
“Duncan,” his mother warned. “Caity will start talking soon. Don’t let her first word be a curse word.”
“Grrr,” he grumbled and fumbled to capture Caity’s legs as she kicked and twisted. “How do you… Come on sweetie. Geez, how can you smell so bad and look so cute at the same time?” He grabbed a heel and grimaced. “Yuck.”
His brothers stood way back, laughing.
“Shut up, jerks,” he shot back at them as he held onto the two little dirty heels. “Okay, now what do I do?”
“Use the diaper to take off what you can and the wipes to clean the rest,” his mother said.
Fiona clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. She had to give the guy credit for trying.
He managed to clean Caity’s bottom, holding her high above the trouble below, practically standing her on her head.
When he’d used at least a dozen wipes, he pulled the messy diaper away and lowered her to the carpet.
“I wouldn’t do that,” his mother said.
“Do what?”
“Lay her on the floor without a diaper beneath her,” his mother said.
At that moment Caity relaxed and grinned. A wet spot spread out beneath her, making a circle on the rug beneath her.
Molly burst out laughing. “Mom was right. She peed.”
Duncan’s frown deepened. “You’re not helping.” He grabbed a disposable diaper and struggled to unfold it and lay it out—on a dry patch on the floor.
“I’m going for some towels and rug cleaner,” his mother said.
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona said.
“Don’t be,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “I can’t tell you how many times I got hit in the face by one of my boys. Caity’s nothing compared to them.” She winked. “And the entertainment factor was worth it.” She hurried away, chuckling.
“Glad I could provide the afternoon’s sideshow,” Duncan muttered. He finally had the diaper beneath the baby’s bottom. In order to pull it up between her legs, he had to let go of the heels he’d just cleaned.
As soon as he did, Caity dug them into the carpet and twisted her torso, flipping onto her tummy.
“Hold still, little one,” he said through gritted teeth, “we’re almost to the finish line.” He rolled her to her back and quickly pulled the diaper up between her legs and applied the tape to hold it in place.
“There. We did it.” He lifted Caity up in triumph, The diaper slid down her legs and fell to the floor. “What the hel—”
“Duncan…” his mother said as she reentered the room, carrying towels. “Give me that child. You can practice another time. She’ll need to be washed down and changed into a dry outfit now.”
Duncan handed Caity to his mother and shot a frown toward Fiona. “I can do this.”
She nodded. “It takes practice. I at least had the pleasure of learning when she was too small to wiggle out of my grip.”
Duncan pushed to his feet, wincing. He limped a few steps then crossed to where his mother sat on the couch, starting over with a fresh diaper. She had Caity covered in record time, keeping control of the baby’s flailing legs and arms throughout the process. Then she secured the diaper in place, making sure it fit snugly around Caity’s middle.
Meanwhile, Molly bent to clean up the puddle on the rug. “Good job, brother,” she said.
“I want to see you do better,” he said.
“I had the benefit of seeing you do it all wrong and Mom do it right. I think I can handle it.”
“Sure, until you have to.”
Fiona fished a fresh one-piece outfit out of the diaper bag and handed it to Mrs. McKinnon. The older woman pulled the wet one over the child’s head, ran a clean, damp cloth over her body and followed it with a dry hand towel. Then she slipped the clean outfit over her head and down her body, snapping it between her legs.
Mrs. McKinnon sat the baby up on the couch and smiled down at her. “There. Now, you can have your supper.”
Caity had found her fist and was sucking on it, making slurping sounds.
