Dr Velascos' Unexpected Baby. Dianne Drake

I do.” He was dressed in jeans, and an unbuttoned white cotton shirt that proved a startlingly sexy contrast to his dark skin. Bare feet, mussed hair, the total image of him caused Bella to step back when he opened the door all the way. She shouldn’t be harboring these kinds of thoughts for him. He had been widowed only three days, for heaven’s sake! A man in mourning. He probably hadn’t even had time to bury his wife yet.

      Hormonal reaction, she decided. Biological clock ticking hard and fast. A particularly pointless ticking for a woman who was on a road with an uncertain ending to it. Or maybe she was finally tired. “I heard Ana Maria…”

      “She’s been crying for the past hour, and I can’t get her to sleep. I had room service bring me sugar water because I thought she might be hungry, and if that doesn’t work…” He shrugged.

      Bella went straight to the crib where Ana Maria was having a royal fit, and picked her up. “Is it your tummy again?” she practically cooed, running her fingers lightly over Ana Maria’s belly to check for any distention. None found. Then she felt her cheeks and forehead for a fever and, again, none discovered. “So far, so good,” she said softly, raising the baby to her shoulder, then giving her a light pat on the back. Ana Maria rewarded the effort with a healthy little burp.

      “That’s it?” Gabriel sputtered. “That’s all it was?”

      “Just a gas bubble. Babies need a little help getting them out, you know.”

      “I know that,” he snapped, then immediately shook his head impatiently. “Sorry. I’ve been going crazy worrying about her, and all she needed was a burp. That makes me look pretty stupid, doesn’t it?”

      Bella laughed. “Not stupid, just inexperienced. And don’t take it personally. I think you’re a little overwhelmed right now.” She really wanted to ask more about his situation, about his wife’s death, but it wasn’t her place. And she knew from experience that so many questions hurt. People had asked about Rosie, trying to be kind, of course, but the pain had been unbearable. Still was.

      “A little overwhelmed is right. And I’m sorry I’m always snapping at you. It’s just that every time you’ve caught me so far I’ve been at my worst.”

      Something with which she commiserated as she hadn’t exactly been at her best lately either. “Believe me, I gave up making assumptions and judgments a long time ago. You’re having a bad time right now and I understand completely.” She glanced sideways at Ana Maria, who’d gone right to sleep with her head on Bella’s shoulder. “I think she’s OK,” she whispered.

      Gabriel stepped forward to take Ana Maria, but Bella shook her head. “I know you told me you didn’t need my help, but I think you do. So why don’t you go sleep for a few hours, get yourself rested to face all the things you’re going to have to take care of tomorrow, and I’ll take care of Ana Maria, since I’m wrestling with a bout of insomnia anyway? This will keep me from walking the hall all night.”

      He studied her for a moment, taking in her pink slippers and moving upward. When he reached her face, a warm smiled flickered across his lips, and for the briefest moment his eyes were so gentle, so…so deep. Then the worry came back, and along with it the scowl he seemed to wear all the time. “I appreciate this, Arabella. It’s been rough, and unexpected. From the time I got word that Lynda had died…” He broke off, swallowed hard. “You’re right. I do need to sleep. So maybe if I can grab a couple of hours my disposition will improve.”

      “Your disposition is fine.”

      “My disposition is lousy, and you’re too kind to mention it.” He smiled wearily. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better. So, are you sure you don’t mind doing this?”

      “I don’t mind,” she said, lowering Ana Maria into her crib. This was what she did after all. She took care of children. That’s how she defined herself, the way she felt safe.

      “Then I promise I’ll be nicer when I wake up.” He made a cross-my-heart gesture. “And better with Ana Maria, too.”

      Bella smiled at Gabriel, but didn’t say a word as she settled herself into the chair next to the crib. But she did watch him wander into the bedroom of the suite. He’d be a good father given some time and confidence, she thought. Once he got used to it.

      Sleep came fast, and hard. He didn’t dream, although he’d thought he would. Didn’t have thoughts of his sister to keep him awake. Once he’d slumped into bed, that was it. He was out cold. But not for long. It had been only three hours, and he was awake again. Now he was being bombarded by the thoughts he’d wanted to avoid, the feelings he’d wanted to dismiss.

      He was angry, damned angry. Lynda shouldn’t have died. She had been young, strong, healthy. Sure, women died in childbirth. But why his sister?

      He could have been there, should have been there. Maybe he could have done something, seen something. Gotten his sister to a hospital somewhere.

      Pacing over to the window, Gabriel pulled back the heavy curtains and looked outside. The city was dark now. And it seemed so…small. When he had been a boy, Iquitos had been the world. It had had everything. And on those few trips when his parents had brought him here, he’d been exposed to amazing culture and things he hadn’t even known existed in this world. But now the city seemed tiny, compared to Chicago. That was home now, and held everything he wanted. Large medical practice, nice condo on the lake, great lifestyle. He couldn’t even imagine living in a village like Lado De la Montaña again, let alone a city such as this. When he had been young, that life had been all he’d known. It was all in his past though, and he couldn’t go back. Didn’t want to go back. Which meant Ana Maria would be returning to Chicago with him since his mother wasn’t physically able to raise a baby and there was no one else. Not even the child’s father, Hector.

      “Hector doesn’t want the child,” his mother had told him. “Nor does his other wife, Estella. They have three daughters already and Hector wanted Lynda to give them a son. That’s why he married her, to give him the son Estella could not. But since Lynda did not, Hector has refused to take this child in and Estella wants no part of raising another woman’s daughter.”

      It didn’t make sense to him. How could a man simply give away his child that way? But that’s what had happened. Hector had taken Ana Maria straightway to the village priest, signed the papers giving up custody, and walked away. Probably to find another wife who would might give him that son.

      Gabriel had never liked his sister’s marriage arrangement. But in the villages it wasn’t uncommon for the men to have two wives at once. Lynda had been Hector Ramirez’s second wife, one who’d come into the marriage a good ten years after Hector’s first marriage. Oh, he’d tried arguing his sister out of it, but she’d told him that he lived in a different culture now, and his ways were not hers. Hector was a good man, Lynda had contended. He’d make her a good husband.

      Yeah, well, what kind of good man abandoned his child after the death of the baby’s mother?

      Gabriel continued staring at the empty street below for another few minutes, trying not to think. But there was a little girl just outside his door he couldn’t take his mind off. And a woman tending to her who’d captured a fair share of his thoughts, too. Arabella seemed to be clinging to Ana Maria as if she was a lifeline, what was her story anyway? He thought about asking her, then thought better of it. How could a man who didn’t know enough to burp a baby take on another person’s problems? The answer was simple—he couldn’t.

      But he did wonder about Arabella. And worried a little because, come morning, when he and Ana Maria returned to the village, what would she do?

      Curiosity got the better of him and, after fifteen minutes of restlessness, Gabriel crept to the bedroom door and peeked out to the sitting area. The room was so quiet he didn’t want to disturb either of them. As he started to pull his door to, he heard Arabella whisper, “She’s just fine. Sleeping like she should.”

      Opening the door again, he stepped