Baby Love

by Catherine Anderson Narrated by Suzanne Toren

Overview

Catherine Anderson has published 16 romance novels and is a New York Times best-selling author. Her works, including Cherish, have quickened the pulses of readers around the world. With her infant son clutched to her breast, Maggie Stanley flees for her life. She has abandoned everything else to escape her abusive family. Ragged and hungover, Rafe Kendricks is also on the run, trying to erase memories of the accident that killed his wife and child. Maggie and Rafe meet in a moment of mutual need, but soon the young woman will find that Rafe is not whom he appears to be. Baby Love is a moving story of the heart and its capacity for love and trust. With Suzanne Toren's lyrical narration, each scene, whether tender or violent, takes on added emotional depth.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

Anderson's newest contemporary romance (after Simply Love) begins with a rescue: vagabond Rafe Kendrick prevents Maggie Stanley from being raped by boxcar bums. Saving Maggie and her baby gives Rafe's life meaning again, and he decides he'll do anything to keep them from harm's way. In order to protect Maggie from her ne'er-do-well stepfather, Lonnie, Rafe contacts his family, who hasn't heard from him since he abandoned his profitable ranch after an accident that killed his wife and children. Although she distrusts his motives, Maggie returns with Rafe to his Oregon ranch and they marry. As Maggie heals in body and spirit, their love becomes mutual. While the premise is riveting, the Cinderella-like aspects of the story are overdone, and Maggie's stepfather's drive to do evil is almost cartoonish. Rafe is not only a successful rancher—he's got $50 million in the bank. Equally unrealistic is the premise that Rafe can stop drinking without suffering any symptoms of withdrawal. However, Anderson is a strong storyteller, and the book should appeal to fans of the genre despite its cliches. (Oct.) Copyright 1999 Cahners Business Information.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940170445554
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	01/15/2008
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Drifting in the misty unreality of dreams, Rafe Kendrick surrendered himself to the images that moved softly through his mind. As he sank deeper into slumber, the details gained clarity and seemed more lifelike. He smiled drowsily. He was down on the lakeshore, he realized, not far from the main ranch house. Through the stands of evergreen trees, he could see the sprawling expanse of ivy-covered brick that was his family home, three of its fireplace chimneys silhouetted against the summer-blue sky. On the gentle breeze, he heard the whinny of a stallion coming from the north pasture behind the stables.

Home. On some level he knew this was only a dream, but it felt wonderfully real, a vivid recollection of all that he'd lost. Small, water-worn rocks shifted under his feet as he followed the sweep of shoreline. The soft lapping of the water soothed him. He took a deep breath, identifying the smells that had once been so commonplace he scarcely noticed them. Fir and pine. Sunwarmed grass and fertile earth. A crisp edge to the breeze, even on a summer day, because the highelevation basin was ringed by snowcapped peaks.

His footsteps slowed as he crested a slight rise. Ahead of him in a shaded grove, he saw a sorrel mare and a buckskin gelding. They grazed contentedly, their reins loosely draped over the limbs of sapling oaks. Nearby two blanket-draped saddles rested on the green grass.

A sense of deja vu filled Rafe. He remembered this day. He and Susan had taken the kids for a short ride through the forest, and then they'd come back here for a picnic by the lake. They had enjoyed themselves, singing silly songs they made up asthey went along to entertain their three-year-old son, Keefer. It had been a near perfect outing, and they had ended it here because they loved spending time near the water.

He eagerly scanned the clearing, his yearning to catch a glimpse of his family so sharp that it made his breath hitch. Drawn by a red-checkered tea towel that fluttered in the breeze, his gaze came to rest on the wicker picnic basket first. The hinged lid was wedged partially open by the protruding neck of a wine bottle that their nannyhousekeeper, Becca, had slipped inside to accompany their meal.

Oh, yes...he remembered it all so clearly — Susan, in snug faded jeans and a pink cotton blouse, her golden hair caught at the crown with a clip to spill in a silky cascade to her shoulders. He could almost hear the sound of her laughter rippling around him — and smell the little-boy scent of his son, riding double in front of him on the buckskin. After coming here to eat, he had rocked his baby daughter to sleep while Susan set out the food, and he could recall exactly how his little girl's plump body had felt in his arms.

A slight frown pleated Rafe's brow. This was too real to be a dream. He could actually hear the water lapping and feel the breeze caressing his skin. With every step he took, the beach pebbles pressed sharply into the soles of his riding boots. Dreams weren't this vivid.

Oh, God. Could he dare to hope? Maybe a miracle had happened, and somehow he'd been hurtled back in time. Maybe, after all this time, his prayers had finally been answered and God was giving him a second chance.

Oh, yes, please...All he needed was just one more chance. This time, he wouldn't blow it. He'd put his family first. Nothing had ever mattered more to him than his wife and kids. Nothing. He'd just gotten so caught up in the everyday responsibilities and obligations of being a husband and father that he'd lost sight of what was really important for a while.

He'd never make that mistake again.

Wanting, needing to believe that this was all actually real, he clenched his hands into throbbing fists and eagerly scanned the clearing. Susan and the kids lay only a short distance away from the picnic basket. The three of them were taking a nap on a Navajo blanket he'd spread on the grass for them. Their snuggled forms were dappled with sunlight that filtered through the fir boughs above them. Susan lay on her back with a child on each side of her, her sweet face relaxed in sleep, her lush mouth curved in a slight smile of contentment. His son Keefer had fallen asleep with his arms around her neck, and he still clung to her, his baby-soft cheek pressed to her breast. The six-month-old Chastity was cradled in Susan's other arm, her tawny curls glistening like drizzles of honey.

Rafe walked toward them, a sharp ache stabbing his chest. Dear God, how he loved them, and it had been so long — so very long — since he'd seen them. Thank you, God. He wanted to shout and run to cover the distance more quickly. But no. He couldn't shake the feeling that this scene from out of his past might exist only in his imagination. A loud sound or sudden movement might shatter it like fragile glass.

As he moved closer to the blanket, Susan's face grew less distinct. He squinted down at her, wanting to see her more clearly. But no matter how hard he tried, her features remained an elusive blur, framed by a nimbus of golden hair. He came to a stop, staring so hard that his eyes burned. It was like trying to see her through a plate of steam-fogged glass.

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