The Gentrys: Cal. Linda Conrad

to locate a replacement for Mrs. Garcia?

      Cal inched toward the front door as fast as his useless leg would let him. When he got there, it took a minute to lean the crutch against the wall, shift his weight so he could stand alone, and rearrange the baby to ensure she wouldn’t squirm out of his grip. As he accomplished it all, the thought that the person knocking must be someone sent to be the baby’s nanny became more and more plausible in his mind. He eagerly threw open the door.

      Before him stood one of the most exotic and beautiful women he’d ever beheld. Cal couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips.

      After he’d swallowed a couple of times and managed a second look, he realized that the gorgeous Mexican-American woman on the doorstep also appeared somewhat haggard. In her mid-twenties, she appeared to be a little older than his sister. The worse-for-the-wear clothes she wore hung loosely on her ultra-thin frame. Her shoes were filthy, dust and mud clung to them like she’d walked both through shallow puddles and the deep Texas dirt.

      Aside from her weary-traveler appearance, she was downright spectacular. Warm-chocolate eyes with golden highlights stared out of a perfect heart-shaped face. Her expression was laced with a kind of soul-searching starkness.

      But her skin, the color of golden honey, looked as smooth as a brand-new fiberglass paint job. She’d pulled back her long, shiny black hair into an untidy ponytail. The strands resembled spun silk where they flew loose around her face.

      “¿Señor? I saw the smoke from your chimney. Excuse the interruption but…”

      The musical sound of her voice rising above the baby’s cries broke into Cal’s stupor.

      “Thank God you’ve come!” he shouted at her over the din. “Come in. Hurry!”

      Snatching up his crutch again, he shuffled aside to allow her to enter. She hesitated and looked at him with a puzzled expression, but finally began to step inside.

      When she’d taken only a few tentative movements to cross the threshold, those beautiful limpid eyes focused on Kaydie. “What is wrong with the little one?” she asked.

      “Wrong? I have no idea. I don’t know what she wants. I can’t make her stop screaming.” He shoved the baby in her direction. “Here, you see what you can do.”

      Suddenly the extraordinary eyes he’d been concentrating his whole attention upon flashed angrily. “You do not treat a baby in that way,” she fiercely announced.

      “It’s not my fault,” Cal began as he released his child into the woman’s arms. “I am not equipped…”

      Immediately she cradled Kaydie in her arms and placed a soft kiss against her forehead. “Madre de Dios!” she exclaimed, interrupting his excuses. “Pobrecita. This child is muy caliente.”

      Cal thought that meant that Kaydie felt hot. But he wasn’t sure, and all he really wanted was to make her screaming come to an end. “Will kissing her make her stop that squalling?”

      “Do you know nothing about children?” the woman muttered. “Putting my lips to her hot skin tells me this baby is burning up with fever. And you do nothing for her but complain about the crying?” Her gorgeous brown eyes were shooting sparks of anger in his direction.

      “Hey. That’s not fair. I’m not—”

      “Have you called her doctor?”

      Cal shook his head. “We just moved here, and she was fine this morning.”

      “And she is what…six months old?”

      “Yes, almost, but—”

      “Where is the kitchen?”

      Cal pointed toward the back of the cabin.

      “We shall see what we can do,” she said, and rushed off carrying the baby in her arms.

      Cal stood at the open front door and stared after her. What had just happened here? The strange but spectacular-looking woman wasn’t dressed like any nanny he’d ever seen, and she’d never actually said she was a nanny, either.

      It suddenly occurred to him that he’d just handed over his daughter to a total stranger. He stepped out to look around the cabin’s empty yard and began to wonder who this rather prickly and hotheaded woman might really be.

      And who had brought her all the way out here? Come to think of it, Cal hadn’t heard any noises at all that might’ve been her transportation.

      This morning he’d given Mrs. Garcia the keys to his Suburban when she’d demanded to be returned to civilization, and told her to just leave the truck at the bus station in Gentry Wells. The doctors wouldn’t let him drive yet, anyway, and Cal knew it would only take a phone call to his older brother, Cinco, to get transportation or supplies to them whenever necessary. So the cabin’s yard stood completely empty of vehicles.

      But how did this stranger get her things out here if she came any other way? He looked around the front stairs and found one bundle that looked like rags tied together. The woman had obviously hidden it under some bushes.

      Hmm. This definitely was not adding up.

      She could be an escaped convict or a lunatic or any of a dozen unsavory characters. He’d handed over his tiny daughter to an exotic woman who just might be a crazed maniac. What was the matter with him? Had he been so mesmerized by a pretty face that he’d totally lost his mind?

      Where were her references? How did she get here? His brain finally began working once again. He hadn’t even asked the most basic of questions. Like what the heck was her name?

      He steadied himself with his crutch and, following the sound of his daughter’s cries, he limped toward the kitchen—and some answers.

      Bella Fernandez fought back her irritation at the gringo’s lack of sympathy for the sick baby girl. She’d come begging for a little help and compassion for herself. But when she’d seen his seeming ignorance and confusion over the helpless child, righteous indignation got the best of her.

      That had always been one of her worst faults, she sighed. Stepping in and opening her mouth when she should’ve kept her thoughts and opinions to herself. The current turmoil bringing her to this remote cabin in the United States stemmed from just that same sort of thing.

      She gently laid the baby on the kitchen counter and removed the little girl’s dress and diaper. Murmuring to the child as she went, Bella quickly checked her over for any signs that this might be more than a simple childhood fever.

      The baby wasn’t convulsing and had no skin lesions, rashes or contusions. She didn’t seem dehydrated. Her tears were falling easily, her lips weren’t dry or cracked. No yellow appeared in her eyes and she certainly wasn’t excessively lethargic or sleepy.

      The swinging kitchen door opened up behind her. “What are you doing to my child?”

      In the bright golden light of the late-afternoon sun streaming through the kitchen window, Bella noticed for the first time what the confused man really looked like. Early thirties, lean but broad-shouldered, his light-brown hair was cut short in back yet hung down over his forehead. Bella felt a crude rush of awakening but wished she hadn’t.

      Instead of answering his question right away, she continued examining the baby and studying the man at the same time. She could tell a ladies’ man from miles away, and this one was most certainly qualified. His sharp, gray-green eyes focused intently on her. But those eyes also held an underlying potent sexual draw.

      To complete the perfectly dashing picture, full lips and a cleft in his chin softened what would otherwise be a too severely chiseled jaw. That erotic magnetism in his eyes made him look rather devil-may-care and young.

      All in all, his looks succeeded in showing off a thrilling mixture of allure put together with a rock-hard promise of passion. She turned her back to him and concentrated her attentions on the baby.

      Yes, most women would definitely fall