The Rancher's Baby Surprise. Kat Brookes

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      Garrett looked to the bed where Hannah lay, her face blessedly pain-free. She looked tired—understandably, after all she had been through—but there was a glow about her that hadn’t been there before. Her long hair, now dry with the exception of a few sweat-dampened spirals, fell about her face and down over her shoulders. It was the most vibrant shade of copper-red he’d ever seen, reminding Garrett of a fall sunset. Something he hadn’t picked up on in the dark of the storm.

      His gaze fell to the towel-wrapped bundle Hannah held in her arms as she lay there and the tiny face peeking out of it. So very tiny.

      “He doesn’t bite,” Hannah said with a sleepy smile as she looked down at the babe in her arms. “You can come closer.”

      “He’s perfect,” Garrett said in awe as he moved to settle into the straight-backed chair his mother had just vacated. Despite his slightly wrinkled, blotchy red skin and scrawny little limbs, her son was perfect. The baby had a dusting of strawberry blonde hair on his head and big, slate blue eyes.

      “He’s so small,” Hannah said with a worried frown as she looked down at her son. Then her gaze lifted to meet Garrett’s. “But he’s here. Without you, he might have...” Tears filled her eyes. “We might have...”

      “But you didn’t,” he said, not wanting her to dwell on what could have happened. It hadn’t. “And I think the Lord played more a part in it than I did,” he added with a warm smile.

      “That might be the case,” she agreed. “But you were the one He sent to save us. The man who risked his own life to save ours. The man who helped to calm me, finding us shelter during the storm. I can never thank you enough for what you did for us.”

      “Seeing that you’re both all right is enough for me,” he said, noting that she could barely keep her eyes open.

      “I should leave you to rest,” he said.

      “I’m so tired,” she admitted with a soft sigh.

      “Then close your eyes and get some sleep,” he told her.

      Worry creased her brows. “I don’t dare. Not while I’m holding him. He could fall from my arms if I relaxed in sleep.”

      “I could hold him for you,” he heard himself offering before he thought things out thoroughly.

      “If you don’t mind,” she agreed with a sleepy yawn. “I know he’ll be safe with you, and I’ll only close my eyes for a short while.”

      She was trusting the most precious thing in the world to her into his safekeeping. Garrett’s gaze came to rest on the sweet face of her newborn son. He was so small. Hardly bigger than his own outstretched hand, he thought with a surge of panic. Not that he hadn’t handled other small newborns before, but those had been in the form of bunnies and puppies and kittens. This was a baby, and he would never have one of his own.

      “Garrett?”

      He looked up at Hannah. “I’ve never held a baby before. I’m not sure I would even know how to go about it.”

      “That’s how I felt when your mother laid him in my arms. But it’s much easier than you think,” she said with a reassuring smile. “But you’ll need to wash your hands first.”

      Of course. He knew that. He should have done so before ever coming into the room, but he’d been so eager to see for himself that Hannah and the baby were all right. “Be right back,” he said, hurrying off to the washroom.

      When he returned, Hannah smiled up at him. “Ready?”

      “Ready.”

      “Okay, now hold out your arms and I’ll hand him over to you.”

      He did as she said, feeling an overwhelming sense of awe as she settled the babe into his outstretched arms. So, this is what becoming someone’s father would have felt like.

      “Now bring him to your chest,” Hannah coached softly. “It will help to keep him warm. Just make sure his face isn’t covered. He doesn’t have as much body fat on him as a full-term baby would have had.”

      As he settled the towel-swaddled infant against his chest, Garrett felt his heart swell.

      “I’d like to name him after you,” Hannah said, her eyes drifting shut.

      Garrett’s gaze snapped up, her words taking him by surprise.

      “That is, if it’s all right with you,” she mumbled sleepily.

      “I’d be honored,” he said. Truth was he couldn’t have been more honored. This child she’d given birth to was all she had left of her sister and he was going to carry Garrett’s first name. And it wasn’t as if he’d ever have children of his own to pass his name down to. His heart had died with Grace that day, along with his dreams of having a family of his own.

      “What’s your middle name?”

      “Austin,” he replied, his attention centered on the tiny face before him.

      “Garrett Austin,” Hannah said with a sigh. Her soft, even breathing told him she had finally fallen into an exhausted slumber.

      Garrett looked down at the precious bundle he held in his arms and smiled. “Welcome to the world, Garrett Austin Sanders.”

      He sat holding the infant for nearly half an hour, his mother and Autumn popping in and out to check on Hannah who was still sound asleep. Both had offered to take the baby, but he’d refused to part with the sleeping infant. While holding something so small—a living, breathing little something—terrified him, Hannah had entrusted him with her baby’s safekeeping. He would keep her son cradled in his arms until she awakened.

      That determined thought had no sooner passed through his mind when the sound of the baby’s breathing changed. Not significantly. If he hadn’t been holding the bundled infant against his chest, he might not have even noticed. But it had definitely quickened, the urgent little breaths enough to stir unease in his gut.

      He crossed the room and stepped out into the hallway. “Mom,” he called out softly, not wanting to startle the baby.

      A second later, she was in the hall, moving toward him. “Honey? Is something wrong?”

      “I’m not sure,” he answered with a worried frown as he looked down at the baby. “His breathing seems a little off. I wanted to see what you thought before overreacting.” Preemies might have issues with underdeveloped lungs, but that wasn’t always the case.

      Concern lit her features as she leaned in to check on Hannah’s son. That concern remained as she lifted her gaze back up to his. “His coloring doesn’t look good. We need to get him some immediate medical care.”

      Care that Garrett couldn’t provide. “Take the baby and have Autumn get Hannah ready to leave.” He started for the front door.

      “What are you going to do?” she called after him.

      “Whatever it takes,” he answered as he let himself outside.

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