LITMIR.BIZ

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ever be with Brad Price—arguably the best kisser in southwest Texas.

      Two

      “Zeke, is Sheila at home?” Brad asked, as soon as his best friend answered the phone.

      “Hey man, how are things going?” Zeke Travers asked cheerfully.

      Brad tried to rub away the tension building at the back of his neck. “At the moment, not good.”

      “I can tell.” Zeke laughed. “It sounds like Sunnie is throwing one grand and glorious fit. Where’s Juanita?”

      “Out of town and—”

      “Uh-oh, you’re on your own with the baby,” Zeke finished for him.

      “Yeah and she won’t stop crying,” Brad said, wondering how something as small as a baby could make so much noise. He was pretty sure her wailing had the dogs barking in downtown Royal. “I was hoping Sheila might have an idea of what could be wrong with her.”

      “Sorry, man. Sheila went with Abby Langley to do some shopping for the Christmas party they’re throwing next week for the kids at the women’s shelter over in Somerset.” His friend paused. “Do you think Sunnie might be hungry? When Sheila took care of her, I noticed that Sunnie was pretty short on patience when she wanted a bottle.”

      “It hasn’t been that long since I fed her, and everything was fine up until about ten minutes ago,” Brad said miserably. “That’s when she started crying, and she won’t stop.”

      “Maybe she needs her diaper changed,” Zeke suggested, sounding as mystified as Brad felt.

      “I just put a new one on her.” Brad walked over to the baby swing, where his niece sat screaming at the top of her lungs. “I’ve tried rocking her, holding her to my shoulder and walking the floor with her. Nothing seems to help. She normally likes her swing, but that isn’t cutting it with her this evening, either.”

      “Man, I don’t know what to tell you.” Zeke paused. “Hang on a minute. Abby’s car just pulled into the driveway. Let me fill Sheila in on what’s going on and then have her call you back.”

      “Thanks, Zeke. I owe you one,” Brad said, ending the call. He tossed the phone on the couch and picked up Sunnie to pace the floor with her again.

      He hated having to bother Zeke and Sheila. They were newlyweds, and he was pretty sure they had more pleasurable things to do in the evenings than give him advice on how to care for a baby. But he was at his wit’s end and man enough to admit that he needed help.

      “It’s okay, baby girl,” he crooned as he patted her back and walked from one room to another. “We’ll get through this.”

      If anything Sunnie’s screaming got louder and made him feel like a complete failure for the first time in his life. He had thought he was doing the right thing when he made the decision to adopt his late brother Michael’s daughter. But if today was any indication of his parenting skills, he might have been wrong. Although he had gotten the hang of diapering and feeding Sunnie, it appeared he was a complete washout at knowing what was wrong and how to calm her.

      What was taking Zeke and Sheila so long to return his call? he wondered, checking his watch. It had been a good ten minutes since Zeke assured him that Sheila would call him back.

      With Sunnie wailing in his ear like a banshee gone berserk, it took a moment for Brad to realize that someone was ringing the doorbell. “Thank God,” he muttered, as he rushed over to open the door. He fully expected to see Zeke and Sheila Travers standing on the other side. “I really appreciate—”

      Instead of Sheila, Abigail Langley stood on the front porch with her hand raised to ring the doorbell again. Great. The last thing he needed was her witnessing yet another of his inadequacies in child care.

      “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here,” she said, as she hurried into the foyer. “But Sheila became ill while we were out shopping and asked me to stop by to check on you and Sunnie.”

      Apparently he hadn’t been very good at hiding his displeasure at seeing her again. But Abby’s help was better than no help at all, he quickly decided when the baby’s screaming reached a crescendo. Explaining everything he’d tried to get Sunnie to stop crying, Brad shook his head. “Nothing works. She’ll start to wind down and look like she’s going to nod off, then she’ll open her eyes and start screaming again. If she keeps this up much longer, I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself.”

      Quickly removing her coat, Abby handed it and her purse to him as she reached to take the baby. “It’s all right, angel. Help has arrived. Where’s her pacifier?”

      He handed Abby the one he had been trying to get Sunnie to take. “I don’t think it will do any good. She keeps spitting it out.”

      As soon as Abby placed the pacifier in the baby’s mouth and cradled her close, Sunnie’s crying began to lessen. “Do you have a rocking chair?” Abby asked.

      All she had to do was walk in the door and take the baby from him and Sunnie reduced the racket she was making by a good ten decibels. “What the hell does she have that I don’t?” he muttered under his breath, as he laid Abby’s coat and purse on a bench in the hall, then led the way to the family room.

      Motioning toward the new rocking chair he’d bought the day before bringing Sunnie home from Sheila and Zeke’s, Brad stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and watched as Abby seated herself and began to gently rock the baby. In no time at all Sunnie’s cries had settled to occasional whimpers and he could tell she was about to go to sleep.

      “When I tried rocking her, she just screamed louder,” he said, unable to keep from feeling a bit resentful. The immediate change in the baby when Abby took her made him feel completely inept, and it annoyed him beyond words that she had been witness to it.

      “I think the problem is that you’re nervous about taking care of her without help.” Abby shifted Sunnie from her shoulder to the crook of her arm. “She senses that.”

      “I don’t get nervous,” he said flatly. Frowning, he stubbornly shook his head. “I might feel a little apprehensive about being solely responsible for her care, but I’m not the nervous type.”

      Abby laughed softly. “Apprehension, nervousness, whatever you want to call it, I think she’s picking up on it and she’s letting you know the only way she can that it upsets her.”

      Feeling a little insulted, he glared at the woman calmly rocking his niece. “So you’re saying it’s my fault she wouldn’t stop crying?”

      Her indulgent smile as she shook her head had him clenching his teeth. “Not entirely. I think a big part of her problem is that she’s fighting to stay awake.”

      Brad grunted. “I’d rather fight for sleep than against it.”

      She nodded. “Me, too. But with each day Sunnie is becoming more alert and aware of what’s going on around her. I think she’s probably afraid she’ll miss something.”

      While Abby rocked the baby, Brad went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and see if there was some of Juanita’s apple cake left. The least he could do was offer Abby cake and coffee for bringing the noise level down. When he returned to the family room, Sunnie was sound asleep.

      “I don’t think we should risk waking her when you pick her up,” Abby said, her tone low.

      “Good God, no.” Just the thought of another crying marathon like the one that had just ended made him cringe.

      Rising from the chair, she smiled. “If you’ll tell me where the nursery is, I’ll put her to bed for you.”

      He led the way up the stairs to the bedroom he’d turned into a nursery and couldn’t help but notice how natural Abby looked with a baby in her arms. If any woman was meant to mother a child, it was Abigail Langley. It bothered him to think

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