The Baby Switch!

by Melissa Senate

  Liam pulled open the door, and the sight of Shelby stopped him cold. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful; she was. But she suddenly seemed so...necessary, as if he couldn’t get through the day without being with her and had just realized it when he saw her face.

  That was nuts.

  They were in the middle of one hell of a thing. That was it. She was like a lifeline. She was the other half in this. Not his other half, of course, but the other half in this insanity. It made sense that he needed her to feel some sense of grounding.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said very honestly. “Hey there, Shane. You look very handsome in your lasso-print onesie.” Sometimes he still couldn’t get over that the word onesie was a big part of his vocabulary.

  She laughed, setting him more at ease, and he was struck by her green eyes. He saw so much in those eyes. Worry. Confusion. Anxiety. But if he wasn’t mistaken, she was also glad to see him.

  She peered behind him, and he turned to find his entire family standing in front in the arched doorway to the family room, clearly eager to get a glimpse of the woman who’d gotten herself invited to the Mercer family dinner.

  “Everyone, meet Shelby Ingalls and her son, Shane. Shelby, this is my mother, my father and my brother, Drake.”

  Everyone smiled and started talking about how cute Shane was. Everyone except Liam’s father. In fact, Harrington Mercer was glaring at Shane. Really. His dad was glaring at a baby. What the hell was his problem?

  “A word, Liam,” his dad said, his tone cold, his expression...angry.

  He glanced at Shelby standing next to his mother, oblivious to anything but Shane, whom she’d asked to hold. “Just going to talk to my dad for a second. Be right back.”

  Shelby nodded, and he followed his father to the library.

  Harrington Mercer closed the door, then pointed his finger at Liam’s chest. “Now you listen to me, Liam. I overlooked one illegitimate kid because of the circumstances and you’re raising him. But if you think this other one is going to have the same privileges as Alexander, you’re wrong.”

  Liam stared at his father, no idea what the hell he was going on about. “What?”

  “Clearly, Shelby’s child is yours. He looks exactly like you. And considering the babies are the same age, I’ll say it now, Liam—use condoms for God’s sake.”

  Liam might have laughed at how ludicrous this conversation was, but nothing about it was funny. “I have an announcement to make, Dad. I want to say it once and to everyone. So let’s head back.”

  Harrington frowned. “Trust me, you don’t have to announce anything. It’s obvious just from looking at the baby.” His father shook his head but followed Liam.

  He stood beside Shelby, so close he could smell her shampoo. “Ready?” he whispered to her.

  “Not really,” she said. “But I’ll never be.”

  “I have an announcement,” he called out, and his brother glanced at him, then lifted his dark eyebrows at the seriousness of Liam’s expression.

  “What is it, dear?” his mother asked, coming closer and wrapping her arm around her husband’s.

  He cleared his throat, took one last look at Shelby, then said, “This morning, the Wedlock Creek Clinic called and asked me to bring in Alexander—and my attorney. Shelby got the same call.” He looked at Shelby, so beautiful in her blue dress, her blond hair loose around her shoulders. He told them everything, from what the director had said to the DNA testing to Shelby getting the call to confirm that she couldn’t be her baby’s mother.

  “We should get the DNA results in about a week,” Shelby said, her voice a bit tight and strange-sounding.

  “So now I have two nephews,” Drake said. “That’s kind of awesome.”

  Liam smiled at his brother. His younger sibling had a way of always defusing a situation.

  “This is very sudden,” Harrington said, frowning. “Of course, until the DNA results are in, there’s no reason to assume that the babies were switched. Alexander is our grandchild, same as always, and Shelby’s child is hers.”

  “But Shelby’s child can’t be hers biologically, Dad,” Liam said. “Which means the two male babies born the night of November 5 were switched.”

  Harrington lifted his chin. “If that is truly the case, I’ll call my own lawyer about getting the lawsuit going. That inept clinic needs to be shut down.”

  “No,” Shelby said. “The clinic serves the entire county. It takes the poorest residents who don’t have insurance. What happened was an honest mistake during the blizzard back in November when the power went out and the clinic’s generators failed twice.”

  Harrington stared at her. “Well, the generators shouldn’t have failed. The backup is supposed to back up.”

  “First of all, Dad, I don’t have conclusive proof that Alexander isn’t my biological son. I won’t know for certain until the DNA tests.”

  “Proof that he isn’t?” Harrington snapped. “You sound like you believe this nonsense.”

  Ha. A minute ago his father was sure Shane was Liam’s child. “I’m facing facts.”

  His father stared at Alexander in his playpen, still wearing his little brown cowboy hat, then slid a glance at Shane in Shelby’s arms. “So this,” he said, pointing at Shane, “is my true grandchild?”

  What the hell, Liam thought. True grandchild? “Alexander is your true grandchild, regardless, Dad,” Liam and his brother said at practically the same time.

  “This is quite a mess.” Larissa Mercer patted at her ash-blond hair. “I say we sit down to dinner and talk about something more pleasant. As your father said, until the DNA results come in, there’s no need to discuss it.”

  “We should prepare for the truth to come,” Shelby said softly.

  Liam glanced at her and had the urge to hold her hand, in solidarity, in needing her strength, in offering her his. “I agree.”

  “Do you like salmon, Shelby?” Larissa asked. “I’ve made a heavenly balsamic-glazed grilled salmon with new potatoes.”

  Liam looked at Shelby, his expression hopefully telling her that his mother just couldn’t handle this right now. They would talk salmon instead.

  “I love salmon,” Shelby said with a gentle smile. She looked around the room. “I love your house, Mrs. Mercer.”

  Relief crossed Larissa Mercer’s face, and she linked arms with Shelby. “Come, dear, you can test-taste a potato and tell me if it’s ready.”

  As the women left the room, Liam watched his father walk across the floor and pretend great interest in rearranging the glasses on the bar.

  “You okay?” Drake asked, taking Alexander from the playpen and holding him.

  Liam stared at his son. His son. “Not really.”

  “This may get seriously complicated,” Drake said. “You know that.”

  Liam frowned. “Shelby’s a good person. I have no doubt of that and I barely know her.”

  “I’m not referring to Shelby,” Drake said, his gaze moving to Harrington Mercer.

  Liam felt a quick, hot poke at his gut. “Well, we’ll find out what a real cowboy truly is, then, won’t we?” he said.

  Not even sure himself what he meant.

  Chapter Four

  Dinner had been an awkward nightmare. Shelby had never been so happy to leave anywhere in her entire life. Of course, she didn’t know Liam Mercer very well, but even a total stranger could see the man was tense.

  “Oh, Shelby, wait!” Larissa Mercer said as they stood in the doorway, about to make their escape. “I have something for your shop.”

  Shelby turned around and smiled, surprised. That was unexpected. Larissa opened the foyer closet and amid some coats and rain boots, Shelby could see a large plastic container marked Donate. She pulled out a medium-size plain brown bag with little handles and handed it to Shelby. “Here you go. Someone l
eft it on the porch a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to bring it over to Treasures. It’s one of those musical jewelry boxes. It works, too—plays one of my favorite Mozart piano sonatas.”

  Shelby glanced in the bag, but the box was wrapped in newspaper. “That’s very kind of you to donate it to Treasures. I wonder why someone left it on your porch.”

  Larissa shrugged. “Harrington’s name is on the bag,” she said, pointing to the black script across the front. “Your father shrugged when I asked him about it. I guess someone left it as a thank-you for something or other. But there’s not a drop of space for another thing in this house, so you take it, Shelby. It’s lovely and someone will indeed ‘treasure’ it.”

  Liam reached over and hugged his mother, his shoulders relaxing. “Thanks for dinner, Mom.”

  “Ahlabawa,” Alexander cooed, looking at his grandfather with his big blue eyes.

  “Bye now,” Harrington Mercer said, nodding at all of them and then turning away.

  Larissa sighed and leaned forward. “It’s a lot to take in. Let him digest it.”

  “It is a lot to take in,” Shelby agreed. “Thanks again for the donation.”

  The moment the Mercers’ stately red door closed behind Larissa, Shelby breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone—except for Drake—had eaten in record time and then made excuses for having to disappear. Dinner had taken all of fifteen minutes.

  Liam half smiled in the illumination of the porch light. “Yeah, I know,” he said in response to absolutely nothing. No words were needed.

  She smiled. “Every Friday, huh? You’re made of strong stuff.”

  They headed to their cars, Liam with a baby carrier in each hand, Shelby holding the bag Larissa had given her. Liam shrugged. “I don’t know why I expect my father to be different, but I always do. I always wish he’ll say: ‘Whatever you need, Liam. I’m here for you.’ My mom tries, but she’s an ignorer, a rug sweeper-under.” He shook his head. “I guess they have a right to their own take on things.”

  Shelby touched his arm, her heart going out to him. “Well, it had to be a shock for them. They’re Alexander’s grandparents. Their lives are turned upside down, too.”

  He frowned. “Pretending the situation doesn’t exist and talking about gardening and the new gift shop on Main Street isn’t going to make the situation any less crazy.”

  Truth be told, Shelby had appreciated the small talk about spring bulbs and how the gift shop sold a simply delightful rose-scented hand cream in the loveliest packaging. For the half hour she’d spent in the Mercer mansion, she’d almost forgotten the events of the day. Almost. Being forced to talk about something else, to think about something else, had been a good thing. “Your mom is right, though. Your dad just needs time to digest. To let it sink in.”

  He nodded and glanced down at Alexander in his baby carrier. “He’s out cold.”

  “So’s Shane,” she said, reaching to caress a strand of silky brown hair in the breeze. “Liam, what are we supposed to do for a week until the results come in? Until we know for sure. How are we supposed to get through this? What are we supposed to do? I can’t think straight.”

  “Me either. I could use a strong cup of coffee right now. That’s all I know.”

  “I have a new bag of Sumatra beans,” she said. “And really good chocolate cookies.”

  He smiled. “Your place, it is. I’ll follow you.”

  Within a half hour they were on their second mugs of coffee and another cookie each in the eat-in kitchen in Shelby’s apartment, both babies stirring in their carriers on the side table across from them. Shane began fussing, which made Alexander scowl and pipe up.

  Shelby got up and was about to pick up Shane when she stopped and turned around.

  “Liam?” She bit her lip, then rushed to get her thought out before she clamped down on it. “Maybe you should soothe Shane. And I’ll pick up Alexander.”

  He put down his mug and stared at the boys in their carriers. Finally, he nodded and stood up, and she was suddenly so aware of his height and the breadth of him. Earlier he’d seemed like an adversary but now he felt more like an anchor somehow.

  “You first,” he said. “If that’s okay.”

  She walked over to the table and kept her eyes on Alexander, trying not to let her gaze keep drifting to the little birthmark on his ear. Or how like her eyes his were.

  “He can get a little fussy with newcomers,” he said. “He likes his grandfather and uncle and two particular teachers at the day care. He’s warming up to my cousin Clara and seems to save his spit-up for her.”

  He was being kind, she realized. Trying to let her know that if he squirmed and fussed in the arms of the woman who’d given birth to him, to not take it personally. She turned to him and smiled and he smiled back.

  She undid the harness and scooped up the baby, cradling him against her. He slipped into her embrace as though he’d always known her, one little hand grabbing at her shirt, the other wrapping around a strand of her wavy blond hair. He looked up at her with those enormous blue eyes.

  As tears pricked her own eyes, she turned away a bit, needing some privacy from Liam.

  He seemed to get that. “I’ll go pick up Shane now, if that’s all right.”

  She whirled around, suddenly nervous despite this being her idea. “Okay.”

  She watched him walk over to the table and undo Shane’s harness, then carefully pick him up and cuddle him against his chest.

  “He feels like Alexander—like a six-month-old baby boy. But he’s not Alexander.”

  “No,” Shelby said. “He’s not.”

  But as she looked down at the boy in her arms, the boy she knew was hers, too, all she could think was: you’re my flesh and blood. You’re a part of me, a piece of me. But you’re not mine.

  The tears threatened to spill over, and she blinked them back hard.

  “He’s been here in Wedlock Creek all these months and I had no idea,” Liam said, his gaze on Shane, nestled in his arms. Shelby could see anger etched into his features, his jawline hard. “I’ve been denied my child and you’ve been denied yours.”

  And they both loved the babies they’d raised for the past six months, the babies they’d believed were their children. The babies who were their children. Shane was her son. Nothing, not a blood type, not DNA, not a court order, would change that.

  “I see what you mean about not being able to give him back,” Liam said. “I’ve missed out on six months.”

  “I know,” she said, nuzzling her cheek against Alexander’s head. “So what the hell do we do? What do we do?”

  She couldn’t leave Alexander, this precious bundle she held, this baby she’d brought into the world. She couldn’t walk away, go home, open the shop, wait an endless week. She couldn’t. She needed, wanted, to be around Alexander with the same fierce drive she needed to be around Shane.

  “I don’t want to put him down,” Liam said, kissing Shane’s head. “I don’t want to give him back.”

  The tears did spill then. “I know. Me either. I don’t want to leave him behind again.”

  “Exactly,” Liam said, his gaze soft on Shane.

  She felt Liam staring at her. When she looked up at him, she could see he was deciding something.

  “Shelby, I have a proposition for you.”

  She tilted her head. “What kind of proposition?”

  “Until the DNA tests come in,” he said, “maybe we should think about the four of us being under one roof. Together.”

  “What? You’re suggesting we live together? We don’t even know each other!”

  “Except you’ve been raising my son for the past six months and I’ve been raising yours. I want to know him, Shelby. I’m sure you want to know Alexander.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I don’t know how else to go ab
out this. We’ve lost out on enough time.”

  “And if the results come back and the boys weren’t switched?” she asked. “If the blood typing results were a mistake—even three times?”

  “Then we can go back to our lives.”

  She stared at him. “And if the results come back and we know for sure the babies were switched at birth?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we get there, Shelby.”

  Live with Liam Mercer?

  Live with Shane and Alexander. That was all she needed to know. “The kitchen floor slants a bit. And Drunk Pete likes to howl at the moon when he leaves the bar down the street every night. But the guest room bed is incredibly comfortable.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking you’d move in with me. I live on a ranch on the outskirts of town. Well, it’s not a working ranch, but I do have two horses. There’s a lot of room and everything a six-month-old baby could want.”

  His turf? No way. She bit her lip. “I have everything a six-month-old baby needs. And three bedrooms. We can bunk the boys in Shane’s nursery. I’d prefer to be here, Liam, for many reasons. Including the fact that people often stop by to see if I want to purchase their unwanted treasures for the store. They know to ring my apartment bell during off hours.”

  “You sure do make yourself available to look through someone’s old stuff.”

  “You know the old saying. One’s man’s junk... But it’s more than that, Liam. Sometimes people need to get rid of things to finally let go, to say goodbye to parts of their past. I get that.”

  “There are parts of my past I wish I could let go of that easily.” He glanced around the apartment, his gaze stopping on the beads dangling down from a doorway. “Then I’ll be back with my bags in a couple hours.”

  The day had begun with learning she wasn’t Shane’s mother.

  It was ending with Shane’s father moving into her home.

  She didn’t even want to fathom what tomorrow might have in store for her.

  * * *

  Nine p.m. was closing time at her family’s Pie Diner, which meant Shelby would find her sister, her mom and her aunt Cheyenne in the main part of the diner or the kitchen, cleaning up and taking pies for tomorrow morning from the oven and leaving them to cool. She hadn’t had much of an appetite at dinner, but she would never turn down a slice of pie, particularly chocolate cream, and on Fridays there was always chocolate cream. The Pie Diner was truly just that: pies, scrumptious, homemade and sliced generously. Every day there were various quiches, pot pies, and six kinds of dessert pies, and very few leftovers.