Protecting His Kidnapped Family - Leslie North Page 0,8
he’d gotten a better look at the kid’s face. Gracie’s face. And damn if she didn’t have his cleft chin too. He remembered his mom telling him once that that was genetic.
So yep. Gracie was his.
And didn’t that just make his pulse race harder. Having grown up with parents who’d been just as happy to scream as look at each other, he’d not been sure if he’d ever want a family of his own. Hard to decide when the one you came from was so dysfunctional. Not that they hadn’t loved him, because they had. Just not each other. Theirs had been a quickie marriage, vows taken in the heat of passion, only to find as time went on that they weren’t compatible at all. His mom was cautious and concerned. His father was the polar opposite, a risk-taker of the first order. Noah had grown into a mix of the two, a careful gambler taking calculated risks, one foot on either side of the fence.
How that would play into being a dad himself, he wasn’t sure.
He finished checking the property and found nothing amiss, then inspected the generator again, happy to find a half-full gas can nearby to keep them going through the night, before heading back inside. Enough uncertainty. Time for the truth.
Serena was in the kitchen, the baby in one arm while she punched the buttons on the microwave with the other. She was crooning softly to the kid, and Noah found his heart lodged in this throat again. But he was no coward and he needed to get the question out before he couldn’t anymore.
“Is she mine?” he asked quietly.
At first, the only sign that Serena had heard him was that she stilled and stopped humming. Then slowly, she turned to face him, her serious expression telling him everything he needed to know even before she spoke.
“Yes, Gracie’s yours,” she said at last.
He nodded, denial not an option. His instincts had known it from the start.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said, turning back around to face the microwave, her voice a tad shaky. He had the crazy urge to rush over and hug her but stopped himself. Harder to suppress was the urge to argue with her. He might not be father material, but he took care of his obligations. He wasn’t going to leave her to raise his kid by herself. But even as he worked at formulating the words, she continued speaking. “I mean, I’m sure this comes as a huge surprise to you, but Gracie and I are fine on our own.”
“You’re not fine. And I’ll do my part,” he said, his words gruff. “But first, we need to get you both back to the US. And we’ll need more supplies for—” he hesitated, waving at the baby. “It.”
“She’s your daughter, not a chair,” Serena snorted. “And sorry, but there aren’t any baby supply stores in the middle of the rainforest.” She shrugged as the microwave beeped. “Don’t worry. I’ve got some supplies in my knapsack. And we used cloth diapers at the villa, so I can just wash them out and reuse them. The low supply of baby wipes might be a problem, but if you can find me a pair of scissors, I can cut up some of the sheets in the closet over there to make some spares to use in a pinch. And as long as I’ve got my boobs, I’ve got food for her, so that’s covered too.”
“What about carrying her? You can’t use that sling forever.” Noah frowned. “We’re going to be on foot for a while tomorrow and the terrain is rough. You’re already at a disadvantage with those shoes.”
“Well,” Serena said, pulling out a large bowl of what looked like vegetable soup from the microwave and setting it on the table. “I also found some boots in the closet over there. They’re men’s and way too big for me, but if I stuff them with more sheets, then maybe I can make them work. Problem solved. And we can share the carrying duties. She’s small and doesn’t weigh much yet, plus she naps a lot.”
“Hmm.” Noah still wasn’t so sure. Besides, the Serena he remembered had been feisty, but pampered. He didn’t completely trust this new, resourceful and adaptable woman yet. He took the seat opposite her at the table and watched as she dished them each out a bowl of soup, then handed him a spoon. He’d not eaten since that morning