Baby On The Run

The only thing Carey wanted to change was her job. But it wasn’t that easy. She began to fear his reaction if she resigned. His reprisals to business rivals who he believed “crossed him” were chilling. Carey began to feel stalked by his obsessive interest, to be truly afraid of him and felt a prisoner under his ever-watchful eye.

She could save a little money out of her weekly paycheck, but never enough to escape. Still, she scrimped and saved for her freedom, knowing she could never tell him outright that she was leaving town. She’d hinted at it once and his reaction had been frightening. Of course, he was sorry afterward. So miserable and contrite, leaving a dozen roses on her desk, a snowsuit and stuffed toys for Lindsay, begging her forgiveness. Quinn needed help. Serious help for his mood swings and temper tantrums. But who in his circle had the guts to tell him? Not Carey.

Finally, Quinn went too far. She discovered that he was meddling in the books and tax records, in ways that were unethical, even illegal. She was afraid of his reaction, but confronted him anyway. Her conscience demanded it. As she expected, he flew into a rage, and threatened her.

He claimed she was culpable, too. She was handling a lot of the financial records, wasn’t she? She could never leave now because he’d use the improprieties against her.

Carey pretended to heed his warnings and played along, promising that she’d let him judge what was best for the business. But when she had a chance, she scraped up what little money she could, accepted help from friends and ran as far away from Quinn as she could manage.

She went to Chicago, figuring it would be the best place to disappear into a crowd. She also had a college friend who helped her find a job and get settled under a new identity. Her life was falling into place again.

The friends back in Ohio who helped her get away and stay hidden were Paul Newton and his wife, Nora. Paul was one of Quinn’s site foremen and kept Carey informed about Quinn’s activities. Quinn had been looking for her, Paul reported, but after a few months when her trail went cold, he seemed to give up or be distracted by more immediate concerns.

A few weeks ago, Paul reported that Quinn’s business practices, along with a mortgage company that he dealt with often, had come under investigation. He was indicted as part of a ring, charged with rigging fake mortgages and defrauding the bank of millions.

Carey learned that investigators for the prosecution were looking for her. They wanted her testimony and maybe even believed she’d been involved in the illegal deals, too.

Carey knew if she dared to come out of hiding and profess her innocence, and testify against Quinn, he would find a way to take revenge on her…and Lindsay. While her conscience urged her to offer her testimony, her instincts as a mother overruled. She didn’t dare risk putting her baby in danger.

She didn’t trust the authorities to believe her. Or protect her. The man was more than obsessive, he was insane. What if he wasn’t found guilty? Or wasn’t given a long prison sentence? He would come after her for sure. She couldn’t take that chance. So now she had both the legal authorities looking for her and Quinn’s private investigators.

If she stopped to think about it too much, it was hard to function…to keep going. To do what she had to do to survive…

Ben’s voice broke into her rambling thoughts. She could tell from his expression he thought she must have been lost in thoughts of her late husband.

“The holidays can be hard if you’re alone,” he said finally. “Everywhere you look, everyone seems so happy. If you don’t feel that way, you think something must be wrong with you. You feel so…out of sync.”

That was exactly the way she felt. Though in her case, it was even more complicated. He seemed to understand and feel the same. She wondered if he had any plans to celebrate Christmas Day or would avoid it by going to work. But she didn’t feel comfortable asking him.

“Would you like some more coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Carey shook her head and sat up.

It was wonderful to sit with him like this, talking and staring at the fire. She worried that if she sat much longer she’d get so relaxed, she’d end up giving all her secrets away.

“I think I’d better turn in. Before I fall asleep again in your living room.”

“You’re welcome to sack out anyplace you like. But I did put your things in the guest room and made up the bed with clean sheets. You should be comfortable there.”

He rose from the floor in a quick, agile motion, then stretched down his hand to her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Carey at first ignored his help, then reached up and put her hand in his. She needed a tug. She was bone-tired after her ordeal today and could barely move.

She came to her feet and they suddenly stood face-to-face, so close she could feel his breath stirring her hair.

He gazed down at her, studying her face. She tried hard to avoid looking into his eyes, but it was impossible.

He lifted one hand and touched her soft curly hair, pushing a strand back from her cheek. His hand lingered there for a moment, cupping her cheek. Carey knew he was about to kiss her and knew she ought to step away. But somehow, her feet wouldn’t move, stuck firmly in place. Somehow, her gaze wouldn’t break away from his as his head dipped and his face came even closer.

Her lips parted and she took in a deep breath, her eyes starting to drift closed.

Lindsay’s soft whimper broke the silence. They both stepped back and looked down at the baby. She’d been sleeping so peacefully all this time, Carey hadn’t fussed over her at all.

Carey knelt and checked the baby’s diaper, which was dry. Then she patted Lindsay’s back, murmuring softly to her. The baby was soon fast asleep again.

Ben leaned down and spoke in a whisper. “I’ll carry the car seat to your room. No need to wake her.”

“Good idea,” Carey whispered back.

Ben lifted the basket easily, baby and all. He headed for the stairway and Carey followed.

At the top of the stairs he turned left and led her to a small bedroom at the end of the hallway. A milk glass lamp on a small table by the bed cast the room in a soft glow. A full-size bed pushed against one wall took up most of the space. It was covered with a white-and-blue quilt with a traditional wedding ring pattern, a striped wool blanket folded at the foot of the bed and fluffy pillows.

A small white painted dresser and a rocking chair were the only other furnishings. The ceiling slanted with the eaves of the roof above, lending the room a cozy, warm feeling.

Carey saw that Ben had already brought up her duffel bag and other belongings and left them at the foot of the bed.

“Well…here you are. The bathroom is the next door down, on the right. My room is at the other end of the hall. If you need anything, just call me.”

As he spoke, he started to back out of the room. Carey watched from where she stood by the bed. He suddenly seemed nervous and she could guess why. The sight of the big empty bed made her acutely conscious of their attraction, too, and how he had just nearly kissed her… And now that they were alone together in this house all night long…

She imagined herself and Ben, lost in a rapturous embrace, rolling around on the big soft bed… Then she blinked to dispel the image.

Ben had been speaking, but she’d lost track.

“…well, good night. See you in the morning.” He stood in the doorway, his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans, filling the space with his big body.

She started to take a step toward him, then decided it was best to say good-night from a safe distance.

“Thanks again for all your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found us.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at her gratitude. “I’m just glad that you and Lindsay are okay. Good night, Carey…Merry Christmas.”

The soft, deep tone of his voice seemed to hold a note of longing, a single note that touched something deep within her.

“Good night, Ben.” She met his gaze briefly before he closed the door.

Chapter Three

Carey sat down on the edge of the bed. She listened as Ben’s footsteps faded down the hallway, followed by Dixie’s soft tread. Then she heard a door open and close.

What had gotten into her tonight?

She barely knew the man and here she was, ready to just…lose all control if he’d so much as kissed her.

It had to be the accident and being rescued by him. Feeling saved and protected. It had to be this cozy house and the spell cast by the firelight. She’d been fending for herself for a long time. She was tired and vulnerable. Especially tonight.

But she couldn’t let her guard down. Not even with a man like Ben. Especially not a man like him. One who was so honest and straight.

Carey dug through her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then found the power cord in her duffel and plugged it into the wall and the other end, into her phone.

She flipped it open and turned it on. There was a message and she recognized the number. Paul and Nora Newton. She dialed her mailbox and listened to the call.

“Carey, it’s Paul. I just wanted to check in with you, see where you’re at. Nora sends her love. We know you’re not having much of a Christmas, but we’re thinking of you. Give the baby a kiss for us and call when you can. We hope that you’re at least safe and warm.”

The familiar voice was a comfort. Paul and Nora were almost like parents to her. Yet she wondered if there was something more Paul wanted to tell her. Did he have some news about Quinn?

She’d call back tomorrow and let him know she was stuck in Maine for a few days. She hoped the delay wouldn’t help Quinn’s investigators catch up to her.

Lindsay was still sound asleep in the seat, which now sat on the bed, close to the wall. Carey leaned over and stroked the baby’s soft cheek with her fingertip.

They were definitely safe and warm here, in Ben Martin’s house. At least for tonight.

Carey woke slowly from a deep sleep. At first, she didn’t remember where she was. Then it all came back, the accident and Ben Martin. Sitting in his kitchen and then by the fire. Nearly kissing him… She remembered that very clearly.

She peered into the car seat that sat beside her on the bed. Lindsay was still asleep. She looked like a little angel. The makeshift cradle must be very comfortable, Carey thought.

The bedroom was filled with the soft glow of morning sunlight reflected off the freshly fallen snow. Carey got up and pulled back the curtains. The snowfall had ended sometime during the night and the sky was clear blue and cloudless. Every inch outdoors was covered with white.

Mostly, Carey saw tall pine trees. Out in front of the cabin, she saw the large green SUV. Someone—Ben, of course—had already shoveled in front of the cabin, cleaned off the vehicles and shoveled a car-wide path leading up to his private lane. She wondered if they would have trouble getting out of here today. She hoped not.

Lindsay began to stir and Carey picked her up, then took care of her. She set the basket in a safe place in the bathroom while she showered and dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater.

Her long curly hair was a sight, but she didn’t want to take the time to wash it. She swept it up in a loose knot and clipped it at the back of her head. She didn’t have any makeup handy, but did find some lip gloss in the bottom of her bathroom kit and swiped it on.

She would have liked to look nicer across the breakfast table this morning. But what was the difference? Ben’s interested glances and rare smiles might give her ego a boost. But nothing could come of it. She’d be leaving here in a day or two and would never see him again. She had to remember that. Though each time she stared into those blue eyes, she seemed to fall headfirst, into the deep end.

She carried Lindsay downstairs in her basket. The smell of coffee and something cooking led her to the kitchen.

Ben stood at the stove, his back turned toward her. He wore a dark blue Henley shirt over jeans. The soft knit fabric emphasized his broad shoulders and back. The worn jeans draped his lean hips and long legs like an advertisement for masculine sex appeal.

He turned to her, taking her in from head to toe with a sweeping glance. Carey was glad she’d gone for the lip gloss.

“Merry Christmas.” His voice was deep and quiet. Almost serious.

“Merry Christmas, Ben…I almost forgot,” she confessed.

“I didn’t have time to get you anything. So I made you some pancakes and bacon.”

He flipped a pancake with a long spatula, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

“The homemade gifts are always the best. Especially if they’re edible. Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so. There’s coffee in that pot. The pancakes will be done in a minute. How’s Lindsay this morning? Did she have a good sleep?”

“Straight through the night. She slept much later than usual, too.”

So did I, Carey realized, glancing at the clock. She felt embarrassed for coming down so late, while Ben had been up and about, shoveling snow and cooking pancakes.

Carey made Lindsay a bottle of milk and heated it in the microwave, then fed the baby some cereal and a jar of peaches. The baby was finished with her breakfast at just about the same time Ben brought the platters of food to the table.

Carey balanced Lindsay on her knee as she fixed herself a dish and started eating. “Mmm…these are good. How do you get them to come out so thin?”

Carey wasn’t very good in the kitchen and was impressed by anyone who could cook.

“The great chefs never tells their secrets.” He smiled slightly, then sat back and took a sip of coffee. “I owed you for the burned grilled cheese.”

“The grilled cheese was fine.” She shrugged. “But these are…much better.”

She dipped a forkful of pancake in a puddle of syrup on her plate and popped it into her mouth. These really were the best pancakes she’d had in a long time. She glanced around the kitchen and could see he’d gone to some trouble to fix such a nice breakfast. She would insist on cleaning up.

Then she’d insist on leaving.

He’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable in his home and she didn’t feel right causing any more work for him. He had his own life, his own obligations and plans for the holiday. Though he’d only mentioned his family, she was sure that there must be a woman in the picture, somewhere.

“I’d better call some hotels this morning and see if I can find a room,” Carey said suddenly. She glanced at him, but he didn’t show any reaction.

“I can take you to the Greenbriar Inn in town.”

“The inn your family runs?”

“That’s right.” He dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. “I called this morning and told my mother about you. She has plenty of guests checking out today. She’s going to find a nice room for you and Lindsay.”

Carey didn’t know what to say. He thought of everything, didn’t he? “I appreciate your help, Ben. Once again.”

“It wasn’t much. Just a phone call.”

“I hope it’s not out of your way to take us there? Maybe I should call a cab.”

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. “There are only two taxis in this town, Carey, and neither are pulled by reindeer, so I think you’re stuck riding with me. Some of the roads won’t be plowed, but we’ll get through. I’m going to the inn later. It’s not any trouble to take you.”

“I thought you might be working today.”

“I have the day off. No excuse to miss the family Christmas party.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, but Carey sensed that given half a chance, he would have liked to skip the family party.

“Is it a big group?”

“Big enough. Aunts, uncles, cousins… We have a big family on both sides and they all assume that since my mother runs a hotel with a huge dining room, she should host all the holidays. She complains,” he confessed, “but I don’t think she’d ever give it up, even if someone offered to take over.”

It sounded like a very big party. Carey wasn’t surprised that Ben had mixed feelings about being part of it. He didn’t seem the type who enjoyed big parties. She could already tell that much about him.

“How about you? Does your family have parties on the holidays?”

Carey shook her head. “My folks are both gone. My dad died when I was in high school and my mother, just a few years ago. My parents would entertain a few relatives and friends at Christmastime. But it was usually pretty quiet. I do have some nice memories of those days,” she said wistfully. “Special presents. Baking cookies with my mom. Singing Christmas carols. That sort of thing…”

She’d never told anyone that, Carey realized. Not even Tom. But no one else had ever asked, had they?

Ben’s expression was thoughtful. “You’re pretty much alone in the world right now, aren’t you?”

Carey shrugged, making light of his question. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There’s Lindsay,” she said, glancing down at the baby. Lindsay was the joy of her heart. She’d do anything for her. “We have each other. We’re independent types,” she added.

“I can see that,” he said quietly.

She felt the conversation growing too serious. “What time do you want to leave for town?” she asked suddenly.

“In about an hour.” He glanced at his watch. “That should be enough time, even with the snow.”

Carey rose and picked up some dirty dishes.

“I can do that,” Ben said.

“Sorry, my turn. You made breakfast,” she reminded him. “This will be my Christmas present.”

She glanced at him and caught a rare smile. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and watched her work.

“It was this…or a tie. You don’t seem the tie type, though.”

His smile grew wider. “You’re right. I’m not.”

He was anything but. You’d have to be blind not to see that, Carey reflected. She worked quickly, focusing on her tasks.

He watched her for a moment more, then started to help her. She didn’t argue with him, though she felt a bit light-headed from his nearness in the small kitchen. She was relieved when they were done and she was able to take Lindsay upstairs again and get ready to leave for the inn.

The short stay at Ben’s cabin had worked an amazing effect. She felt so relaxed, as if she’d been on a weeklong vacation. She’d eaten well, slept well and her pressing worries had suddenly seemed very distant. All the voices in her head were muffled by the snowfall and her mind totally distracted by her handsome, compelling host.

Now as they drove toward town, Carey felt all her cares rushing in again. But it was Christmas, she reminded herself. Even if she wasn’t going to celebrate the day, she could at least give herself a day off from worrying.

She watched the snow-covered scenery pass by. It all looked different in the daylight. Now she could see the road she’d driven down did have a few houses scattered here and there. Or at least, roadside mailboxes and narrow lanes that seemed to indicate life up in the woods. The houses soon became more visible and frequent. She realized they were coming into town.

Greenbriar wasn’t even a full dot on the map. But up close, it was a pretty and surprisingly lively looking place, with shops, restaurants, a post office, movie theater and a town hall. A lot like the town she’d left inVermont—Blue Lake. But a bit bigger, she thought. The village was decorated beautifully, with wreaths on shop windows and garlands strung across Main Street.

Ben pulled up to a huge, Victorian mansion that faced the village green. A wooden sign in front read Greenbriar Inn in gold lettering. The three-story building was painted a muted rose color with burgundy, forest-green and golden-yellow trim.

The first floor was circled by a wide, columned porch and the second floor had a large balcony in front. The porch was draped with pine garlands and wreaths hung in all the windows on the first and second floor, each with long satin bows. A huge pine wreath decorated the front entranceway, double doors arched on top.

All in all, Carey could rarely remember ever seeing such an amazing old building.

“Here we are.” Ben parked and turned off the engine.

“Wow. It’s fantastic.” She turned to him. “Did you grow up in there?”

He nodded slowly. “I always wished we lived in a ‘real’ house. Though I certainly found a lot of ways to get in trouble living in a hotel while other kids never had the opportunity.”

“I’d never take you for the mischievous type, Ben,” she said honestly.

He smiled and pocketed his keys. “You don’t know me very well. Yet.”

His words held a promise. Or was it a dare? One she’d like to take him up on. She did want to know him better. But that wasn’t going to happen. Carey sighed and gathered her belongings.

She had to stay in town a few days for her car, but it would probably be best to avoid seeing much more of him. She already knew she was amazingly attracted and could easily have feelings for him. Very easily, she thought.

Ben got out and started to unload the car. There were bags of gifts for his family and Carey’s luggage. They managed to get everything up on the porch and then, into the hotel foyer. Carey couldn’t help gazing around at the decor, as Ben did most of the heavy lifting.

The hotel lobby was not large, with several sitting areas, but elegantly decorated. A registration desk stood at one end of the room. A woman rushed out from a doorway behind the desk. It appeared to lead to a small office.

Her expression brightened at the sight of Carey and Lindsay and Carey could tell immediately she was Ben’s mother. Her bright blue eyes were a giveaway. Her dark hair was threaded with silver, pulled back in a neat upswept hairstyle. She wore pearl earrings, a cream-colored scoop-neck sweater and a black velvet skirt that came down below her knees. She smiled as she walked out from behind the desk.

“Merry Christmas. You must be Carey and Lindsay.”

Carey nodded. “That’s us.”

“I’m Ben’s mother, Thea.” She stuck out her hand and Carey shook it. “Ben told me about your accident. How frightening for you. It was so lucky that you and the baby weren’t hurt.”

“Yes, we were lucky.”

Ben came back inside with more gift bags, the last of them. “Merry Christmas, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

“I see you’ve met Carey. I can bring her things up if her room is ready.”

“That would be a help. We’re very shorthanded today. I gave the staff the day off, of course.” She started walking across the lobby and Carey followed. Ben picked up Carey’s bags and also followed.

“I’ve put you in a nice room on the second floor. It’s really a double, with room for the baby. It has a lovely view of the green.”

They climbed a stairway up two short flights and came out in a wide hall. Thea led them to a nearby door and opened it with a key she had in her pocket. The door seemed to stick for a moment and she pulled it toward her and wiggled the knob.

“Oh, dear. Ben, you’ll have to fix this when you come next time.” She glanced at her son as the door finally swung open.

“Just put it on the list.” His tone was quiet and resigned.

Carey didn’t realize he helped out here, but it did make sense when she thought about it.

Ben stepped aside and let his mother and Carey walk in first. The sticky lock was soon forgotten.

The room was large and tastefully decorated with blue-and-white-striped drapes over sheers and a matching satin bed set. More of a suite, Carey noticed, with a separate sitting area. Thea opened a large wooden armoire that contained a TV and small refrigerator.

“It’s lovely,” Carey said. She stepped over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Long French doors led to a balcony and framed a view of the snow-covered village green.