The Cowboy And The Baby. Marie Ferrarella

know,” Devon answered honestly. “I was...really sure I was having...a boy, so all I have...are...boys’ names.”

      A thought hit him. It seemed almost like fate, he thought. “My mom’s name was Layla. I always thought that was a pretty name.”

      “Layla,” Devon repeated weakly. “You’re...right... It...is...pretty.” She looked down at the baby in her arms. Her daughter was looking up at her with wide, wide blue eyes. A peacefulness was descending over Devon. Her mind began to drift, but she did her best to focus. “Layla,” she repeated again to see if the name fit. It seemed to.

      “You like that?” The infant made a tiny noise. It wasn’t in response, but Devon took it that way. She glanced up at the man who had been there for her when he could have just kept going. “Looks...like it’s...unanimous.”

      “What were you doing out here by yourself?” he asked. If he’d been in her place, he wouldn’t have been driving around in the middle of nowhere. Where was the man who belonged to that ring? To that baby?

      “Looking...for a cowboy...to deliver...my baby,” she told him weakly.

      She wasn’t going to tell him, he thought. Well, that was her business, he supposed. He could respect that. Cody was just glad that he had been running late this morning. If his Jeep hadn’t decided to die, who knew what might have happened to the pregnant woman?

      He glanced at her face. She appeared frighteningly pale. “You need to be checked out by a doctor,” he told her. He would have suggested it even if she looked fine, but, at the moment, she didn’t.

      “You have...one of those...with you, too? In...your...pocket?” He was so resourceful, she thought, she wouldn’t have put it past him. But he’d have to have big pockets...

      “Not with me,” he said wryly. “But in town, we do. We’ve got two of them, actually. They’re both at the clinic,” he told her. “Along with a couple of nurses. All really top-notch. They’re certainly not in it for the money.” He glanced over to the backseat. “Why don’t I make you and Layla more comfortable in the backseat? There’s more room to lie down there. And then I’ll drive your truck into town.”

      Even if she’d wanted to protest, she didn’t have the strength to do so. Devon felt way too tired.

      “Whatever...you...say.”

      It was the last thing she recalled saying to the man who had come to her aid. In the next moment, everything suddenly and dramatically turned pitch-black.

      She lost her hold on the world.

      “Ma’am?” Cody asked uncertainly when he saw that she had shut her eyes. He got no response. “Devon?” he questioned more urgently, seeing her head nod to one side.

      The next second, he quickly took the baby from her. Devon’s hold had gone lax. The baby would have fallen if he hadn’t moved fast.

      “Damn,” he mumbled. “New plan, Layla. We buckle your mom in where she is in the front seat and I drive into town, holding you in one arm. That okay with you?” He added under his breath, “Good thing Connor was always on us to multitask.”

      Getting out of the cab with the baby in his arms, Cody came around to the other side of the passenger seat to secure the seat belt as best he could around the unconscious woman.

      He continued to talk to the baby, keeping his voice at a soothing level, the way he did when he worked with spooked horses or cattle.

      “Connor’s my big brother. You’d like him. He’s kind of bossy, but he had to be. He stuck around to raise my brother and sister and me when our dad died. Our mom died some years before that. Old Connor, he always came through.” As he talked, he found that the sound of his voice was not just keeping the baby calm, but it was helping to do the same for him.

      This wasn’t exactly something that was covered in his deputy’s manual. He was fairly certain that as far as his duties went, this was all brand-new ground he was crossing.

      Slipping the metal tongue into the seat belt receptacle, he secured it. When he looked to make sure it would hold, that was when he became aware of the blood. There was a great deal more of it than there had been just a few minutes ago when Devon was struggling to push out her daughter.

      Adrenaline spiked all through his veins. This was serious. Really serious.

      He had to get this woman a doctor and fast or the baby in his arms was going to be an orphan before the sun set.

      It took him a split second to make another decision. Running around to the rear of the truck, still holding the baby, Cody untied his horse. If he drove into town at a normal pace, the horse could easily keep up. But this was now a race for time. He intended to go as fast as he could. If still attached, the horse would be dragged in the truck’s wake.

      He spared the stallion one look and shouted a command. “Follow the truck, Flint. Follow the truck! Town, Flint. Town.”

      Telling his stallion the destination—a command he’d given often enough, except then it had been from the vantage point of a saddle astride the horse’s back—he raced around to the driver’s side and got in.

      He didn’t expect Flint to keep up, but, with luck, the horse would follow and reach town sometime after he did. If the horse didn’t reach town by the time Cody would be able to look around for him, at least he knew that Flint wouldn’t just run off aimlessly. Cody had spent long hours training the stallion. He was completely confident that, since the terrain was familiar to both of them, the horse would eventually find its way to Forever.

      Climbing into the cab, still holding on to the baby who was now whimpering, Cody awkwardly buckled himself in. A quick check told him that, mercifully, Devon had left the keys in the ignition.

      He started the truck, stepped on the gas and they were off.

      Driving with one hand while holding the baby against him with his free arm proved to be tricky and definitely not something Cody had ever even remotely prepared for. But he didn’t have the luxury of doubting that he was up to it or of looking around for an alternative method. There was no time for any of that. A woman’s life—Layla’s mother’s life—depended on him being able to handle both the emergency and the baby.

      Cody felt like he was running out of time.

      He spared Devon an apprehensive glance. She was still unconscious, but he did see her chest rising and falling. At least she was still breathing.

      “You hang in there, you hear me?” he ordered Devon. How could he have missed that she was still bleeding? How could he not have seen all that blood soaking through her dress? he upbraided himself. “I’ve never lost a mother after she gave birth to her calf and I sure as hell don’t intend to start with you.”

      Cody stepped down harder on the gas. He could see Flint trying to keep up in the rearview mirror, but the stallion was falling behind.

      “I’ve got a feeling that you’re all this little girl has, so don’t even think of checking out. You’re going to live, you understand? You’re going to live! We’re almost there,” he told her, saying anything and everything that came into his head.

      If he stopped talking, he was sure he was going to lose Devon.

      “The town’s just over that hill. It’s not all that much to look at, but Forever’s got really good people. People who take you in and look out for you. They don’t care what your story is—although Miss Joan’ll ask. Miss Joan, that’s the woman who runs the diner. She’s like a mother to all of us. Acts all grumpy, but she’s got a heart as big as the state. She’ll make sure you’re warm and fed—she did with the four of us after our dad died. Did it so that it didn’t seem like charity because Connor, he wouldn’t have accepted any charity. Ever,” Cody said. “He’s way too proud. But Miss Joan, she always found a way to get around that. She’ll just melt when she sees this baby of yours, even if she tries not to show it. And she’ll give you advice you’ll think