Page 39 of Red Boar's Baby

The wailingof the baby woke Diana with a jerk from uneasy dreams. She was already sitting up when she became aware that Costa was out of bed. In the living room, the crying died down to murmurs.

“Need help?” she called blearily.

“We got it,” Costa answered from somewhere out of sight. “Don’t we, baby bubba?”

It was still early. Dim light came through the gauzy white curtains, suggesting predawn. Diana flopped on her pillow, but as it became clear that she was too awake to get back to sleep, she sat up again.

She pulled on her jeans and socks, and padded into the living room. Costa was making up a bottle in the kitchen, holding the baby in the crook of his arm. For a minute she just stood and watched him. Why it was so captivating to watch him with a baby, she had no idea. But it drew her, especially in her sleepy state, her body still warm from the bed she had shared with him.

Costa looked up and saw her. His smile was quick, soft, and involuntary, and she found the warmth of his regard even more compelling than the sight she had been enjoying a moment ago of the baby nestled in his muscular arm.

If this keeps up,she thought,I’m gonna be in major trouble.

I’m worried I already might be.

Costa’s smile became more guarded, and Diana wrenched her gaze from his face. “Coffee?” she said. “I doubt we’re going back to bed.”

“Coffee sounds great.”

Diana poked through the contents of the kitchen, navigating around Costa as he prepared the bottle. She found both an old-fashioned tin coffeepot and a small (if old) electric coffeemaker, and decided to go with the sure thing rather than making cowboy coffee. Only things in the fridge were a box of baking soda and the handful of grocery items that were somehow, bizarrely, the only things she currently owned.

My worldly assets: half a gallon of milk, a pound of French roast, and some yogurt. Amazing.

At least it meant they could have coffee. She set up the coffeepot, and while Costa sat in one of the armchairs feeding Emmeline, she wandered around the cabin inspecting the rest of the amenities. There wasn’t much to see. Shelves held a few books and games. The closet turned out to be crowded with a variety of items including the sort of things she might expect in an Airbnb (an ironing board, cleaning supplies, a box fan) as well as personal effects that had probably belonged to family members staying over: jackets and shoes, toys, well-used sports equipment. She climbed the ladder to peek into the loft and found it absolutely crowded with boxes of books and toys, old furniture, and something in the shadows under the eaves that looked like it might be a spinning wheel.

Outside the windows, the gray dawn light had turned gold. Diana fixed herself a cup of coffee and took it out on the porch just as the sun rose.

It was a gorgeous sight. The cabin offered a sweeping view of the canyon, currently bathed in pale gold morning light with stark blue shadows. Diana could not quite see her family’s former ranch spread from here; it was concealed at this angle by a curve of the arroyo and bluff that separated the two properties.

The low angle of the morning light also picked out the spring-lush vegetation of the desert landscape. Patches of dusty green and gold vegetation, lit from behind; great sweeping expanses of yellow and pink wildflowers on the hills. The air was chilly enough to raise goosebumps on her bare arms, and filled with fragrant and subtle scents.

Costa emerged from the cabin door with Em bright-eyed and alert in his arms. “Ready to head down to breakfast?”

“And run the family gauntlet, you mean?” she asked. “Into the breach once more, and all of that.” After draining her cup, she left it in the kitchen sink, and they headed down the hill together.

By daylight, Diana saw numerous other signs of occupation that had escaped her notice in the dark. There was a motley array of dusty vehicles in the parking area in front of the main house, and another truck parked by the fence of what was clearly a pasture. Staggered lines of fencing ran across the sloping landscape behind the house, containing some cows, a calf, a few horses, and a couple of sheep.

Costa headed for the main house. They entered to be greeted by delicious cooking smells and a chatter of conversation, mostly female voices.

“I heard there’s a baby!” This was Auntie Lo, who swooped down on them, her long graying hair falling over her shoulders rather than tucked up into her usual bun. “Where’s the baby? Hi, sweethearts.” She kissed Costa’s cheek, and then Diana’s. “Oh, who’s a little darling, who is it? It’s you!”

Em, draped against Costa’s chest, looked around wide-eyed at the room full of strangers. After a little supportive cuddling from both Costa and Diana, she was willing to allow herself to be swept off with the aunts.

“Now then, CeCe, whose baby is she?” Aunt Brill asked, ever practical.

Costa promptly launched into a story, mostly accurate but skipping past a few inconvenient facts. He explained that she was a possibly kidnapped shifter child who had been found at a crime scene, they were currently trying to locate her parents, and they didn’t have a foster home for her yet.

This brought on a full groundswell of “Poor little lost lamb!” from the aunts, and there was little chance of getting Em back now. Costa and Diana both watched with a vigilant attentiveness that Diana herself was surprised by, in both of them, until it was clear that Em was enjoying being the center of attention.

Aunt Lo declared that she should be on solid food, and an argument followed over what sort of solid food, which seemed to be settled in favor of fork-mashed banana. (About which Em expressed clear opinions, mostly by squishing fistfuls of it into her own hair.)

Meanwhile, Aunt Maura—the oldest of the aunts, Costa’s dad’s widowed sister—presided over the griddle and frying pan, churning out pancakes and omelets with thin, iron-hard arms that had been honed to a high degree of fitness by shearing sheep and setting fence posts. Uncle Rodrigo presided over all of it cheerfully from his favorite chair by the kitchen window.

Diana felt a little overwhelmed. At least Costa’s three or four cousins and their families weren’t here, and his brother’s family (what was the wife’s name? Jenny?) didn’t seem to be here either.

But they were completely friendly to her, almost effusively so. Diana dug into a stack of pancakes and eggs, and let the family chatter wash over her. After they ate, she asked if she could use the phone or computer to contact her workplace and let them know what had happened. Costa took her to the computer and showed her how to set it up so she could use wifi for phone calling. Then he went to use the landline to check in with the SCB. Diana fielded a flurry of worried texts from Luis, her boss, and other friends, briefly glanced at her email, and was reading news stories about the fire when Costa hung up and came over to sit down next to her.

“How’s it looking?” he asked quietly.

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