Page 5 of Rancher to the Rescue

She placed it over her shoulder, leaned forward with the baby, and then repositioned the sleeping angel so her head was on Prudence’s shoulder. “I’m not sure how to do this.”

Patting the baby’s back didn’t work.

“Try bouncing a little bit,” Adam offered.

She did, and voila. His suggestion worked.

Pride filled her chest at having the baby fed, burped, and sleeping despite a wet diaper. “Where should I change her?”

“I felt something on the side of this thing.” Adam reached for the diaper bag. He set it on the table next to them. He unsnapped one side and unfolded a mat. Something that looked a lot like pride passed behind his eyes when he said, “Try putting her on this.”

Prudence stood, and then placed the baby on the makeshift changing table. All the supplies she needed were inside the bag; wipes, bottom cream, and a dozen or so diapers. There was also a binky and an assortment of plastic bottle inserts along with packets of formula. She suddenly realized she should have drilled Casey with questions while she had someone with experience in the room. It was clear both she and Adam were fumbling their way through the diaper change.

The diapers were a tad too big, the baby too small, but Prudence made it all work. More of that pride filled her chest at the accomplishment. She swaddled the baby in the blanket before returning to her seat.

“What should we do next?” she asked. “Call the sheriff and see if any babies have been reported missing?”

Adam palmed his cell. He stopped mid-dial. “Are you sure you have no idea why my name was in her blanket?”

“Afraid so,” she said, not liking his frown at the non-answer. “My first thought, of course, was that you must be her father.”

She’d clearly caught him off guard with that comment because his jaw nearly dropped all the way to the expensive tiled floor.

“I don’t have any children.” Adam would be the first to know if he did. “I’m not seeing anyone and haven’t been for a long time.”

“Then, maybe the person wrote down your name because he or she knew you would protect this little angel?” she surmised.

He’d had the exact same thought. Again, he drew a blank on who that might be. He studied the paper to see if he recognized the handwriting. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had written him a note.

The letters were small, and it looked like they’d been hastily scribbled.

“I don’t know anyone who is pregnant or has been in the past…for however many months it takes to brew one of those things…nine?” His question was rhetorical. He remembered something about nine months being a full-term pregnancy. If this kiddo was a few weeks old, it was mathematically impossible for the child to be his.

Someone had to be missing her.

He was more than mildly curious as to why Prudence was holding a child she didn’t know. And didn’t seem to have any memories of how the baby showed up. This situation definitely called for the law’s intervention.

“That sounds right,” Prudence said. She had the most interesting eyes hiding behind those Coke-bottle glasses.

“I’ll get Sheriff Lawler on the line. See if we can figure out what happened. Someone will be missing a sweet little angel like her.” He didn’t see the need to mention the disturbing set of pipes the kid on her. They were strong.

Prudence nodded.

He picked up where he left off calling Lawler. Since poachers were a serious problem to ranchers, Adam had the lawman’s number on speed dial.

“What can I do for you, Adam?” Timothy Lawler had been two grades ahead of Adam in school, so they knew of each other. Lawler had been a star quarterback who was being scouted by some big-name programs when he took a hit that broke his arm in four places. He’d managed to get off the game-winning throw, but the injury had ended his career and any hopes of playing college ball. He’d gone to school and studied criminal justice instead and then followed in his father’s footsteps in law enforcement.

“Any chance you’re looking for a few weeks’ old baby?” Adam had never been one to mince words. Now seemed like a bad time to start.

“No. Why?” Lawler had a shocked quality to his tone that was laced with disbelief, like he was about to ask if this was a prank.

“Prudence,” he glanced at her drawing a blank on her last name.

“Owens,” she supplied.

“Owens,” he echoed, “is here with an infant and has no idea how she got her.”

“Is Prudence hurt in any way?” Lawler’s questions came without hesitation.