Free Having His Baby by Beverly Barton Page B

cowpoke who's going to have to float a major loan to buy the ranch."
    "Why haven't you told her that you're a rich man?" Caleb asked.
    "Maybe he doesn't want her to know that he made a lot of money as a mercenary before he retired to become cowpoke or that he's smart enough to have tripled his savings with shrewd investments." Hank looked directly at Jake. "Is that it? You want Donna to accept you, for who you are and not judge you with everyone else around here once did?"
    "Yeah, something like that," Jake admitted.
    Donna paced the floor, a fretful Louisa in her arms. "Hush, sweet baby, hush. Don't cry. I've fed you and changed your diaper and sung to you. What's wrong? Why won't you settle down and go to sleep? You haven't had a nap all afternoon. Mommy's just about out of her mind."
    Louisa wriggled against Donna's chest and let out another yelp. Since Mrs. Winthrop had come to work as her nanny, Louisa had taken several naps every day. And when she'd been fussy, Donna and Mrs. Winthrop had taken turns caring for her. But today of all days—with Mrs. Winthrop on her way to Chattanooga and Donna having been in- formed her job was in jeopardy—Louisa had chosen to act her worst.
    "Do you have a tummy ache?" Donna walked from her bedroom, out into the hall and down the stairs. "Maybe you need a change of scenery. Let's go downstairs and fix Mommy a bite of supper. I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast." As if on cue, Donna's stomach growled. "Listen to that! Mommy's starving."
    Louisa quieted when Donna carried her into the kitchen. "Would you sit in your carrier for a few minutes so Mommy can make a sandwich?"
    While the baby seemed inclined to cooperate, Donna eased her down into the carrier that was sitting in the middle of the round oak table. "That's Mommy's big girl. I promise that when I finish eating, we'll walk the floor as long as you want."
    The minute Donna turned her back and headed for the cherrywood cabinets that lined the kitchen walls, Louisa bellowed. Donna halted, sighed, said a silent prayer for help and turned to face her irate infant. "We're not going to let Mommy eat, are we? Apparently, you want me to lose weight. Is that it? You think your mother needs to lose a few more pounds?"
    Donna lifted Louisa into her arms, walked into the pantry and scratched around, picking up and putting down several bags as she looked for anything that might already be open. A package of cookies. Potato chips. Even rice cakes would taste delicious at this point. Donna finally gave up her search and grabbed a bag of unopened chocolate chip cookies. With one hand, she put the edge of the bag to her mouth and, using her teeth, ripped it open.
    "Pay dirt," Donna said, placing the bag on the counter and delving one hand into the tattered cellophane. She retrieved a cookie, brought it to her lips and bit off a large piece. Savoring the sweetness of the cookie, she moaned with pleasure.
    "Someday, my precious, you'll learn all about the healing properties of chocolate. Unfortunately, if you've inherited my fat genes, every bite of chocolate you eat will go directly to your hips."
    Just as Louisa began whimpering again, the doorbell rang. Donna put the entire cookie into her mouth, chewed quickly and rushed out into the hallway. Please, God, let it be Jake. Don't let him skip his nightly visit. Not tonight. I need him.
    Jake rang the bell again. What the hell was taking Donna so long to come to the door? She had to be home. Her Corvette was parked in the driveway. Besides, she knew he came by every night to see his daughter.
    Donna flung open the front door. Jake took one look at her and stifled the laughter bubbling up in his throat. She probably had no idea how she looked. Her hair was a mess—as if she'd been caught in a high wind. Strands hung down from the untidy topknot and loosely curled about her face. Her eye makeup was smeared, her lipstick nonexistent and her blouse was buttoned crookedly. And there was a