The Baby Notion Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Books by Dixie Browning

  About the Author

  Meet The Soon-To-Be Moms of New Hope, Texas!

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Preview

  Copyright

  Cowboy Jake Spencer’s Surefire

  Plan For Staying Single:

  1) Avoid all women who want babies! This pretty much includes every female in New Hope, Texas.

  2) Don’t allow yourself to be turned by a pretty face and a pair of tight jeans, especially if the long-legged beauty is one baby-wanting Miss Priscilla Barrington.

  3) No matter how desperate her situation may seem, don’t invite the lady to stay at your ranch. She’ll just try to win you over by cooking dinner and ironing your socks.

  4) Whatever happens, don’t believe for a minute that she’s really going to visit the sperm bank. It’s your baby she wants—and it’s your hand in marriage she’ll take!

  Dear Reader,

  Cowboys and cops…sexy men with a swagger…just the kind of guys to make your head turn. That’s what we’ve got for you this month in Silhouette Desire.

  The romance begins when Taggart Jones meets his match in Anne McAllister’s wonderful MAN OF THE MONTH, The Cowboy and the Kid. This is the latest in her captivating CODE OF THE WEST miniseries. And the fun continues with Mitch Harper in A Gift for Baby, the next book in Raye Morgan’s THE BABY SHOWER series.

  Cindy Gerard has created a dynamic hero in the very masculine form of J. D. Hazzard in The Bride Wore Blue, book #1 in the NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series. And if rugged rascals are your favorite, don’t miss Jake Spencer in Dixie Browning’s The Baby Notion, which is book #1 of DADDY KNOWS LAST, Silhouette’s new cross-line continuity. (Next month, look for Helen R. Myers’s Baby in a Basket as DADDY KNOWS LAST continues in Silhouette Romance!)

  Gavin Cantrell is sure to weaken your knees in Gavin’s Child by Caroline Cross, part of the delightful BACHELORS AND BABIES promotion. And Jackie Merritt—along with hero Duke Sheridan—kicks off her MADE IN MONTANA series with Montana Fever.

  Heroes to fall in love with—and love scenes that will make your toes curl. That’s what Silhouette Desire is all about. Until next month—enjoy!

  All the best,

  Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  The Baby Notion

  Dixie Browning

  This one’s for Curtiss Ann Matlock,

  my cowboy connection.

  Books by Dixie Browning

  Silhouette Desire

  Shadow of Yesterday #68

  Image of Love #91

  The Hawk and the Honey #111

  Late Rising Moon #121

  Stormwatch #169

  The Tender Barbarian #188

  Matchmaker’s Moon #212

  A Bird in the Hand #234

  In the Palm of Her Hand #264

  A Winter Woman #324

  There Once Was a Lover #337

  Fate Takes a Holiday #403

  Along Came Jones #427

  Thin Ice #474

  Beginner’s Luck #517

  Ships in the Night #541

  Twice in a Blue Moon #588

  Just Say Yes #637

  Not a Marrying Man #678

  Gus and the Nice Lady #691

  Best Man for the Job #720

  Hazards of the Heart #780

  Kane’s Way #801

  *Keegan’s Hunt #820

  *Lucy and the Stone #853

  *Two Hearts, Slightly Used #890

  †Alex and the Angel #949

  †The Beauty, the Beast and the Baby #985

  **The Baby Notion #1011

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Finders Keepers #50

  Reach Out To Cherish #110

  Just Deserts #181

  Tune and Tide #205

  By Any Other Name #228

  The Security Man #314

  Belonging #414

  Silhouette Romance

  Unreasonable Summer #12

  Tumbled Wall #38

  Chance Tomorrow #53

  Wren of Paradise #73

  East of Today #93

  Winter Blossom #113

  Renegade Player #142

  Island on the Hill #164

  Logic of the Heart #172

  Loving Rescue #191

  A Secret Valentine #203

  Practical Dreamer #221

  Visible Heart #275

  Journey to Quiet Waters #292

  The Love Thing #305

  First Things Last #323

  Something for Herself #381

  Reluctant Dreamer #460

  A Matter of Timing #527

  The Homing Instinct #747

  Yours Truly

  Single Female (Reluctantly) Seeks…

  Silhouette Books

  Silhouette Christmas Stories 1987

  “Henry the Ninth”

  Spring Fancy 1994

  “Grace and the Law”

  *Outer Banks

  †Tall, Dark and Handsome

  **Daddy Knows Last

  DIXIE BROWNING

  has written over fifty books for Silhouette since 1980. She is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America and an award-winning author who has toured extensively for Silhouette Books. She also writes historical romances with her sister under the name Bronwyn Williams.

  Meet The Soon-To-Be Moms

  of New Hope, Texas!

  “I’ll do anything to have a baby—even if it means

  going to the sperm bank. Unless sexy cowboy

  Jake Spencer is willing to be a daddy…

  the natural way.”

  —Priscilla Barrington, hopeful mom-to-be.

  THE BABY NOTION

  by Dixie Browning (Desire 7/96)

  “I’m more than willing to help Mitch McCord take care

  of the baby he found on his doorstep. After all, I’ve been

  in love with that confirmed bachelor for years.”

  —Jenny Stevens, maternal girl-next-door.

  BABY IN A BASKET

  by Helen R. Myers (Romance 8/96)

  “My soon-to-be ex-husband and I are soon-to-be

  parents! Can our new arrivals also bless us with a

  second chance at marriage?”

  —Valerie Kincaid, married new mom.

  MARRIED…WITH TWINS!

  by Jennifer Mikels (Special Edition 9/96)

  “I have vowed to be married by the time I turn thirty.

  But the only man that interests me is single dad

  Travis Donovan—and he doesn’t know I’m alive…yet!”

  —Wendy Wilcox.

  biological-clock-counting bachelorette.

  HOW TO HOOK A HUSBAND (AND A BABY)

  by Carolyn Zane (Yours Truly 10/96)

  “Everybody wants me to name the father of my baby.

  But I can’t tell anyone—even the expectant daddy!”

  —Faith Harper, prim, proper—and very pregnant.

  DISCOVERED: DADDY

  by Marilyn Pappano (Intimate Moments 11/96)

  One

  Jake stepped out of the barbershop feeling naked after his long overdue haircut. Pausing on the dusty sidewalk, he pulled
a list from his shirt pocket, squinted down at it and then checked off one more item. That made…let’s see, florist? Check. Shady Grove Cemetery? Check. Bank? Yep. Barber? Yep. Which left the hardware store, the grocery store and—

  “Hey there, Jake.”

  He glanced up and smiled. “Hey there, Trilla Dean.”

  “You going to the dance Sunday night?”

  “Honey, you know me and dancing. I’d cripple half the women in New Hope if I was to show up at a dance.”

  “You’re not all that bad.”

  “I’m worse, and we both know it.”

  She giggled. “I’ll save you a dance, anyway, just in case you decide to come.”

  “You do that.” Jake grinned and shook his head. Trilla Dean Moyers was his age. She’d put on about fifty pounds since they used to make out in the back of his truck, but with her big blue eyes and her slow, sweet smile, she didn’t look a day over twenty.

  Jake took out another list—Pete’s grocery list, this time. Squinting some more, he muttered, “Two dove’s eyes,” and translated it to two dozen eggs. He didn’t know which was worse—Pete’s writing, or his own reading. Jake figured either his eyes were going or his arms had gotten shorter.

  “Hey, Jakey.”

  He glanced up again and grinned at the frayed-looking redhead with two kids hanging on to her skirttails. Poor Connie. She was pregnant again. “Hey, Connie. How’s Mick?”

  “He’s doin’ better, but he’s still real tore up about the Harley. I guess you heard it was totaled. Come see us sometime, y’hear?”

  “I’ll do that,” Jake said, and meant it. Connie was another of his old classmates. They’d had a thing or two going way back in junior high school.

  Jake was just about to shove the two lists back in his pocket and head over to the hardware store to see if the truck was loaded when he saw a peach-colored Cadillac convertible slide into a parking space across the street. Leaning his back against the sun-warmed brick wall, he lingered to watch the driver open the door, swing both legs out and follow them with a body that was designed to raise the noonday temperature about ten degrees.

  The haystack blonde. He’d been hoping for a glimpse of her before he headed back out to the ranch. When she leaned inside the car to retrieve her purse, Jake lifted his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Somebody ought to tell her, he mused, that women built the way she was built weren’t cut out to wear tight jeans. Especially not when they were also wearing pink plastic sandals with fourinch heels.

  Fortunately, no one ever had.

  Jake flexed his shoulders, enjoying the sensation of heat on aching muscles. He didn’t particularly like towns. He especially didn’t like the town of New Hope, Texas. But then, he’d never been one to cut off his nose to spite his face, and catching a glimpse of his favorite fantasy always made the trip worthwhile. One of these days he was going to screw up his nerve and—

  Whoa. She was fixing to go into that shop across the street.

  Well, hell, as long as he was in the neighborhood…

  Shrugging away from the hot brick wall, Jake rammed his lists into his pocket, carefully resettled his Stetson, and sauntered across the street, never once taking his eyes off that sweetly rounded backside.

  Jake had been known to forget a name. He might even forget a face. Hell, he’d even been known to forget his own when he’d been on one of his infrequent benders. One thing he never forgot, however, was a well-turned rear end, on either a horse or a woman. He’d been seeing this particular example around town for too long now without ever getting a close look at her face.

  Or maybe he just wasn’t a face man.

  The first time he recalled seeing her had been the day they’d auctioned off that godawful palace of old man Barringer’s, along with everything in it, right down to the last solid-gold toothpick holder. Folks had come from five states to pick over the leavings.

  Normally Jake wouldn’t have been caught dead at a gig like that, but the old man had had a mare that Jake had wanted right bad, so he’d figured he may as well give it a shot.

  And there she’d been, standing off to one side with her arms crossed and her nose in the air, like she was too good for the rest of the vultures flocking around to pick over the old bastard’s carcass.

  He’d got the mare, but by the time he’d wound up the paperwork, the woman had been gone. Since then he’d seen her half a dozen times, always from a distance. Sometimes she’d be walking, but mostly she’d be wheeling by in that flashy vintage Cadillac convertible. He figured she’d bought it off H. T. Barrington’s estate. He’d heard the old man collected the things.

  Jake didn’t begrudge her the car. Right this minute he wouldn’t have begrudged her every horse on his spread, and they weren’t even his.

  But he’d rather watch her walk than drive any day, because she had the kind of walk that would rattle every seismograph west of the Mississippi.

  Jake had always liked his women a little on the wild side, slightly tacky, and strictly temporary. He figured this one might just qualify on the first two counts, what with the hair, the makeup, the tight jeans and half ton of clanking silver jewelry.

  As for temporary, that could mean anything from twenty minutes to a year. Hell, even his marriage hadn’t lasted a year—although the effects had lasted considerably longer.

  She was talking to the store owner when he let himself inside the shop. A bell jingled softly, announcing his entrance. The sign over the door said Baby Boutique. Racks and stacks of pastel junk cluttered the place, making him feel like a bull in a china shop.

  On the other hand, the sun outside was hot enough to blister paint, and the air conditioner in the china shop was going full-blast, so this bull figured he could just about handle the stress.

  Feeling distinctly out of his element, Jake stepped into one of several small alcoves, this one cluttered with baby carriages and strings of plastic junk dangling from the ceiling. From where he stood, he could see the blonde’s backside and the frontside of old man Harper’s daughter, Faith, who owned the place. He’d met Faith once or twice—she seemed like a nice girl.

  Not that Jake was interested in nice girls.

  The two women were deep in conversation and Jake didn’t want to barge in right off without getting a feel for the situation, so he waited for an opening. He didn’t feel quite right about hanging around a female-type store, but one thing he’d learned from his rodeo days—timing was all-important.

  Another thing he’d learned was that his wasn’t all that great.

  “…last year, or was it the year before when you spread all that money all over Shacktown?” Faith was asking as Jake quietly listened in. He thought about strolling casually over to the counter and entering into the conversation. All he needed was an opening. He could take it from there.

  “How did you know about that? That was supposed to be a secret!” the blonde exclaimed.

  “Honey, it was all over town before the bank even closed that day. They said you sent old Joe Sakett down to Shacktown and had him put envelopes full of money in every single mailbox.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Faith, they weren’t full of money. That was the year I turned twenty-seven, and I couldn’t very well just hand out twenty-seven dollars to every family—I mean, that’s such a piddly bunch of money. Why, I spend more than that on a pedicure.”

  Pretty nice hoof-dressing, Jake mused.

  “So what did you do, put in twenty-seven dollars and fifty cents? Oh, only you.”

  The blonde shrugged. She had great shoulders. Funny thing—Jake had never even noticed her shoulders before.

  “I added a zero, okay? Now, can we forget that so I can tell you about—”

  “Oh, my God, Priss, you didn’t. Two hundred and seventy dollars in every single mailbox in Shacktown? And by the way—putting things in people’s mailboxes—isn’t that a federal offense?”

  “How do I know? Anyhow, nobody complained.”

  Priss.
Her name was Priss. Funny—she didn’t look like a Priss. She looked more like a Dolly or a Wynona.

  “But, Faith, what I wanted to tell you was—oh, by the way, I need a dozen teddy bears and some of those dangly things that hang over a crib. It’s for my birthday celebration. And I’m not putting them in any mailboxes, so you don’t have to look at me like that.”

  A dozen teddy bears?

  So she was celebrating a birthday. Jake could think of several ways he’d like to help her celebrate, none of which involved teddy bears.

  “Anyhow,” she continued, “I’m not sure they’ll let me put up those crib toys. They have so many gadgets and things hooked up to cribs in the hospital.”

  Hospital?

  Faith planted her hands on her hips. She was wearing one of those short and loose-flowing dresses. It took Jake a few minutes to realize Faith Harper was one quite pregnant nice girl. “Priss,” Faith said, “your papa endowed the entire west wing. If anyone can talk them into it, you can.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve never been much good at throwing my weight around.”

  Jake sincerely begged to differ. If she got any better at it, they might both find themselves in serious trouble.

  Jake cleared his throat, wanting to make his presence known but at the same time feeling like a creep for even being there. Before he could cut and run, the Harper woman spotted him, put on her professional smile and started across the room.

  Jake grabbed a book off a rack, held it at arm’s length and pretended to read.

  “Mr. Spencer, do you need any help?”

  “Who, me? Oh, um…no, thanks. Just looking. That is, one of my hands is having a baby, and—that is, his woman’s having it, but—” He shrugged, giving her his best Hey, I’m only a man, I can’t help being stupid smile and began to edge toward the door. On the way he knocked over a display of stuffed rabbits, caught three before they hit the floor and with shaking hands, began restacking the lot. The Harper woman turned back toward the counter at the back of the store, calling over her shoulder, “You just let me know when you decide, okay?”