“Can you tell us what was happening at that time?” Liam asked.
Kate folded and unfolded her hands in her lap. “It was terrible. The wind was howling so badly and we were all so afraid the power could go out and it did. The generator came on but then it failed, too. I’d just brought the Ingalls baby to the nursery to weigh and measure him and the lights came back on so I put him in the bassinet and ran to Ms. Harwood’s labor and delivery room for her infant to bring him to the nursery. The lights went out again just as I approached. All of a sudden, a tree fell on the east wing and people were screaming in fear. I put the Harwood baby down in a bassinet for safety and wheeled both over away from the windows. I was sure the Ingalls baby was on the left and the Harwood baby was on my right. But in the chaos, I must have mixed them up. I must have put the bracelets on the wrong babies.”
“You said you had no inkling you might have switched the babies,” Liam said gently. “As you were braceleting them, you didn’t think for a second that you could have switched them?”
She shook her head. “I was so sure. Ingalls left, Harwood right. And I remembered thinking, the Harwood baby had that tiny birthmark on his right ear.”
“Like this,” Shelby said numbly, pointing at her own ear.
“If only the lights hadn’t gone out the moment Shane was born,” Liam said. “Shelby would have noticed the birthmark—and noticed that it was gone when she next held her baby. Because she was holding the wrong infant.”
“I’d mixed them up in my mind even before I put on their bracelets,” Kate said. “How could I have done such a thing? I’d been a nurse for over thirty years. I am so, so sorry for what I did. I take full responsibility.”
Liam looked at Shelby. He watched her get up and go sit down next to the retired nurse and put her arms around her. The woman looked so surprised that she burst into tears and held tightly on to Shelby.
“It was an honest mistake in the chaos of a terrible snowstorm,” Liam said. “It happened and that’s that. Nothing’s going to undo it so we just all have to accept it and move on.”
Kate wiped under her eyes with a tissue. “You sure are being kind about this. My daughter said we should expect to be sued.”
“No one is suing anyone, Kate,” Liam said. “I want you to put that worry out of your head.”
The woman burst into tears again, covering her face with her hands.
“Kate?” someone called from upstairs. “Is it time for my soup? Where is my soup?”
Kate took a breath. “That’s my mother. She’s elderly and not very well.”
“We won’t take any more of your time,” Liam said. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
“Yes, thank you,” Shelby said. “It was helpful to hear what happened. How it happened.”
Kate walked them to the door, her mother calling about her soup again. “Are you going to switch the babies back?”
Shelby froze.
Liam felt momentarily sick.
It was the first time anyone had actually asked that question.
“No, ma’am,” Liam said. “I have a better idea.”
Shelby glanced at him, questions in her eyes.
“Where is my soup!” Kate’s mother called again.
“You go ahead, Kate,” Shelby said, stepping out onto the porch. “Thanks for talking to us.”
Kate nodded and shut the door behind them.
Liam leaned his head back and he headed down the porch steps. “I need about ten cups of coffee or a bottle of scotch.”
“I thought I might fall over when she asked about switching the babies back,” Shelby said, her face pale, her green eyes troubled. She stared at him. “You said you had a better idea. What is it? I sure need to hear it. Because switching the babies is not an option. Right?”
“Damned straight it’s not. Never will be. Shane is your son. Alexander is my son. No matter what. Alexander will also become your son and Shane will also become my son as the days pass and all this sinks in.”
“I think so, too,” she said. “Right now it’s like we can’t even process that babies we didn’t know until Friday are ours biologically. But as we begin to accept it, I’ll start to feel a connection to Alexander. Same with you and Shane.”
He nodded. “Exactly. Which is why on the way here, I started thinking about a way to ease us into that, to give us both what we need and want.”
She tilted her head, waiting.
He thought he had the perfect solution. The only solution.
“I called the lab running the DNA tests and threw a bucket of money at them to expedite the results. On Monday,” he continued, “we will officially know for absolute certain that our babies were switched. Of course we’re not going to switch them back. I’d sooner cut off my arm.”
“Me, too,” Shelby said, staring at him. “So what’s your plan?”
“The plan is for us to get married.”
* * *
Shelby’s mouth dropped open. “What? We’ve been living together for a day. Now we’re getting married. Legally wed? Till death do us part?”
Liam opened Shelby’s car door, and she got in, her entire body feeling like rubber. He shut the door and came round and got in. “Let’s get out of here and talk. We’ll go to my ranch. Then we’ll pick up the boys.”
She nodded, all she could manage. Married? What?
“On Monday we’ll know with certainty, Shelby. You have my child and I have yours. You’ve been raising my son and I’ve been raising yours. You love Shane and I love Alexander. If we marry, if we join together as a family unit, we each have the boys we’ve been raising and the baby we didn’t know was ours.”
“Join together as a family unit,” she repeated. “So...we’re getting married to become a family. For the boys’ sake and ours.”
“Yes. Precisely.”
Her baby’s father floated into her mind. One day we’ll get married and it’ll be us against the world. We’ll have a big old house in the country, a chicken coop, maybe even horses. We’ll watch reality TV and go to the rodeo and die old, fat and happy.
They’d gotten married at the famed Wedlock Creek Chapel. Legend said that those who married at the chapel would have multiples in some way, shape or form: twins, triplets, quadruplets, even quintuplets, whether through nature, science, marriage, or adoption. The town and county was full of big families with identical twins and fraternal triplets. Morgan Crawford had said he’d hoped they’d have quintuplets. Except by the time she did discover she was pregnant, Morgan had two other girlfriends. One of whom was the supposed real love of his life. When Shelby, who had no clue her new husband was cheating on her, told him she was pregnant, he said he was sorry but he was filing for divorce and that, “I’m sorry, Shel, but happiness has to come first.”
She was around six months along when she’d heard he’d died in a car wreck. Shelby had been very sad about the whole sorry story for so long that her sister had moved in with her for two weeks and made her scrambled eggs and toast every morning and minded the shop, letting her just lie on her sofa, her hands on her growing belly, unsure what anything meant anymore. If you couldn’t trust the word of the man you loved, the man you thought loved you, the man you’d married, what could you believe in?
Heck, she couldn’t even believe in the legend of the Wedlock Creek Chapel. She was pregnant with one baby, which was more than fine with her. But maybe true love and legends only came true for others.
You believe in this, Norah had said, taking Shelby’s hands and putting them on her stomach, where she’d felt a good, hard kick. That kick had made her burst into a smile, her first in weeks, and from that moment on, she’d been fine. She had her baby-to-be. She had her family. She had Treasures. Her trust had been breached, but who said she had to let another man into her life? She certainly didn’t plan to. Not for a long while, anyway.
Now here was Liam Mercer proposing they marry for the most practical of reasons. Maybe she shouldn’t pooh-pooh it, no matter how much she believed that love, deep, abiding, lasting love, was real and waiting for her. Right now her heart was guarded with barbed wire.
But marry a man without love as the main reason? Come on.
“Think about it,” he said. “I think it’s a good solution. The only solution, really.”
“But what about the future? What about love, Liam?”
He snorted. “Love? That’s for fairy-tale endings. No—I take it back. I do love Alexander. And I’m going to love Shane the moment I let myself go and trust me, I’ve been fighting it.”
She felt herself go limp. “I know. Me, too.”
“Monday, the results will say that Shane is my flesh and blood. And the floodgates are going to open, Shelby. I think the same will happen to you.”
“I know it will.”
He pulled over and put the SUV in Park and turned to face her, reaching for her hand. “So, let’s have our children. Both children. Together. A family unit.”
She noticed he kept saying a family unit instead of a family. Because family implied something else, whereas a family unit sounded more like a business term. Because this would be a businesslike marriage. A merger, a spousal acquisition for the benefit of both parties. And both minor parties.
“I will think about it, Liam. But I won’t give you an answer until I see the DNA results.”
“Understood.”
He put the car in Drive and continued on, signaling for the service road that would lead back into town.
Marriage. To Liam Mercer.
Chapter Seven
Shelby had needed a break from their conversation, so instead of going back to Liam’s ranch to talk, they picked up the babies and each went their separate ways with the plan to meet up for dinner at home—home being Shelby’s apartment. When Liam had dropped her and Shane off, he hadn’t mentioned the proposal, and she’d gotten out of the car so fast it was a wonder she hadn’t dropped Shane on his head. Maybe getting married was a ridiculous idea. But it seemed the only good one. The only solution to one hell of a situation.
“How about we go see the goats at Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Liam said to Alexander as they pulled onto Main Street.
Of course from his rearview mirror he only had a view of the back of the baby’s rear-facing car seat, but he still imagined Alexander smiling and clapping his hands about going to see the goats. As for Liam, he needed the open air and the hundreds of acres of wild Wyoming land. His own property had almost a hundred acres but was closer to town and more developed than his parents’ place twenty miles out. Besides, he needed a sense of familiarity, of grounding about who he was.
He also wanted his father to show him that Harrington Mercer was back to being the loving, doting grandfather he’d always been. He didn’t like being on the outs with his dad; they’d always gotten along, and Liam had always prided himself on understanding his father when his brother wouldn’t even try. He’d stuck up for Harrington Mercer in arguments with Drake so many times over the years. But the way his father had thrown around words like real grandson had sent shock waves through his gut. He didn’t like it and he needed that nonsense over and done with. He was sure his father would be back to his old self today now that he’d had some time.
As he pulled up in the circular drive, Harrington Mercer was just coming back from the stable, his usually perfectly coiffed salt-and-pepper thick hair a bit mussed, which meant he’d been out riding.
“Thought I’d show your grandson the goats,” Liam said as he got out of the car and took out Alexander. He turned toward the penned pasture where around ten goats of all colors were grazing.
“Sure,” Harrington said, his voice strained. Liam noticed he didn’t reach for Alexander. Or say one word to him, as a matter of fact. “Your mother and I have a fund-raising dinner, so just see yourself out when you’re done here.”
Alexander reached out his hands for his grandfather, whom he adored. “Ga,” he said, one of his only words.
Harrington glanced at the baby. “I’d better hit the showers.” With that he turned and walked away.
“Stop right now,” Liam said, his voice so cold it surprised even him. “Your grandson is reaching for you.”
“I just told you—”
“I know what you said, Dad. I want to hear what you’re not saying.”
“I’m preparing myself, okay?” Harrington said, a mix of anguish and resolve in his eyes. “You’re expecting the DNA tests soon. They’re going to say that Alexander isn’t a Mercer. That he’s not my grandson. I need to prepare for that, Liam. I need to take a step back.”
Liam’s legs actually buckled. He expelled a breath and tried to collect himself, to get over the sharp left hook his brain just took. “Not a Mercer? Not your grandson? Dad, he was your grandson two days ago. He’s your grandson now. He’ll be your grandson Monday, no matter what the hell the DNA tests say.”
“The DNA results will say he’s that Ingalls woman’s child. He’s her baby. He’s her father’s grandson.”
Liam sucked in a breath. “And that Ingalls woman’s child—Shane? On Monday is he suddenly going to become your grandson?”
“I suppose he is. I’ll have to work that out in my own time, get to know him.”
“Dad, Alexander is your grandson and will always be. Just as he’ll always be my son.”
“That’s not how life works, Liam.”
“It damn well is.” He looked at Alexander for a long moment, then turned and walked away.
Red-hot anger was working its way up every nerve in Liam’s body. He stomped back to his SUV, put Alexander back inside as gently as he could given his mood and peeled out of there. Ten minutes ago he’d needed this land, the place he’d grown up, to soothe him, to ground him. Now he never wanted to step foot here again.
* * *
Shelby wrapped the adorable elephant salt-and-pepper shakers in pink tissue paper, put them in a Treasures bag and handed it over to her smiling customer. The woman had actually left five minutes earlier with a pricey tea set that Shelby had found at an estate sale a few weeks ago, but she’d returned, unable to stop thinking about the shakers. Her customers often did that. And that was how the heart worked. You might pass something up, but if you couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially a minute after leaving, you had to come back and make it your own.
This afternoon had been good for business. Her sister, Norah, had filled in for her this morning while she and Liam had been out to see Kate Atwood. Shelby usually told Norah everything, but she found herself holding back the bit about the marriage proposal. Shelby could barely wrap her mind around it.
And she was grateful that the shop had been busy all day. Between answering questions about the origin of pieces—she usually had no idea—and whether lightbulbs came with the lamps—no—and if she’d go down ten dollars on the price—usually, since she expected to be asked—she’d barely had time to think about Liam’s proposal. Marriage.
Her gaze landed on the brown paper bag that Liam’s mother had given her last night; she’d brought it down to examine it further during slow times, and there was finally a lull. She glanced at Shane, napping in his bouncer seat behind the gated register area, then excitedly reached in the bag and pulled out the wrapped box, quickly taking off the newspaper.
The music box was so beautiful. And so old. Shelby guessed it was at least a hundred years old and had been passed down from generation to generation. She ran her hand on the pretty pink velvet lining, worn with use, and she imagined what had been in this box over the decades—brooches and earrings and pearl necklaces, beloved treasures. As her fingertip brushed the far edge of the lining, she realized there was something underneath. She tugged at the side and it released easily. The lining had a
smooth edge that would easily tuck back under.
Under the lining was a folded-up piece of paper!
A secret note? A love letter? Should she read it or tuck it back and leave the writer the privacy he or she had expected by hiding it under the lining?
But the music box had ended up in her possession. So maybe it was okay to read it. Just the first line or two, and if it belonged to someone she knew she’d stop reading immediately and return it.
The bell jangled, and Shelby looked up. Liam. Looking absolutely awful. Well, looking absolutely gorgeous but angry. He was pacing, Alexander in his baby carrier, fast asleep.
Secret note, you will have to wait until later. She tucked it back under the lining and put the music box back in the bag and stowed it under her desk, lest anyone think the box was for sale.
“You okay?” she asked. He clearly wasn’t.
Steam was practically coming out of his ears. “My father doesn’t think of Alexander as his grandson anymore. He’s not a Mercer anymore, apparently. He’s an Ingalls.”
Shelby froze, the idea of that innocent baby being rejected by his grandfather too much to take in. “What?”
As three women came in to browse, Shelby smiled tightly at them, then took Liam’s hand and pulled him closer to the wall. “Not his grandson? What?”
She watched his face as he told her what happened at his parents’ house. So many emotions flashed—fury, hurt, bewilderment.
“No one turns their back on my son. Especially not my father,” he growled under his breath.
“Alexander is your son, no matter what,” she said. “And as you told your father, he always will be, also no matter what. What you feel for him is in here—” she added, touching her heart. “That won’t change because of DNA.”
“Well, apparently my father is heartless. That’s the only excuse I can think of.”
Except from what Liam had told her of his father, Harrington Mercer wasn’t heartless. Why would he shun the baby he loved so much? It made no sense.
The Baby Switch! Page 8