Operation Baby Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  “Well, it worked,” she said almost an hour later when she checked her watch. “Your pleasant company has kept my mind off what Kim told me tonight and saved me from sitting alone at home agonizing over what it could mean.”

  He gave her a satisfied smile. “Mission accomplished.”

  “I hope I haven’t kept you too late.”

  He shrugged. “My mother might be a bit worried about what kept me, but as soon as she hears I was having coffee with an attractive lady, all will be forgiven. She’s been encouraging me to start dating again.”

  A knot of regret tightened in Elise’s chest. “Jared, I, uh…I’m not in a place where I…well, I’m not ready to date. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  He nodded and raised a hand. “That’s fine. I’m not sure I’m ready to date again, either. But…” He twisted his mouth in a thoughtful moue, and his eyes took on a devilish spark. “We don’t have to tell my mother. As long as she thinks we might be an item, maybe she’ll back off trying to fix me up with her single friends.”

  Elise scrunched her nose in a sympathetic wince and chuckled. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” A low, melodic laugh rumbled from his chest. “And let’s just say, there is a reason some of her friends are still single.” He rolled his eyes and whistled. “So the true nature of our friendship can be our little secret. Deal?”

  She laughed harder, savoring the feeling. How long had it been since she had a reason to laugh? “So you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

  He pulled a face. “Well, we might not have to take it that far, but I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d be my excuse for not meeting Linda-from-accounting or Betty-from-her-scrapbooking-club.”

  She flashed him a sassy grin. “Yeah, and what do I get out of this deal?”

  He leaned back in the booth and folded his arms over his chest. “An occasional cup of coffee, maybe dinner or a movie once or twice.” He winked, and his cheek tugged up in a playful grin. “And, of course, my charming company and scintillating conversation.”

  “Gosh, I don’t know…” She rubbed her chin and pursed her lips as if struggling with the decision, as if agreeing would be a hardship.

  In truth, the hardest part of such an agreement would be not developing any romantic feelings for Jared. He was handsome, kind, thoughtful and funny. Exactly the kind of man she could fall for—if she were looking for a boyfriend. But, as alone as she felt most of the time, involvement with a man who had a one-year-old daughter would be…torture. Anguish. She was bound to form attachments to Isabel, painful reminders of what she’d lost, bonds that would add to her grief when they were inevitably broken. Because Jared wasn’t looking for a new wife. He clearly still loved his late wife. Elise had already made the mistake of falling for a married man, and she wanted no part of a love triangle—even if the third party was a ghost.

  “Wow,” Jared said with a self-deprecating scoff when she hesitated a moment too long, “I didn’t realize being my decoy was such an onerous favor to ask.”

  “Oh!” With a startled laugh, she shook herself from her thoughts and reached across the table to grasp his arm. “Oh, no… I was just thinking. I’d love to have coffee with you again. It’s better than sitting home by myself stewing over tragedies.”

  He gave her a comically pained expression. “Ouch. Maybe I should quit while I’m behind.”

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, laughing softly. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean…”

  Shaking his head, he grinned and slid to the end of the booth, picking up the check as he stood. “Just say good-night, Gracie.”

  Gracie.

  Though she knew he was quoting George Burns from his old radio show with his wife, Elise felt the blood drain from her face, and her heartbeat slowed. Jeez, she was a mess, if just the mention of her daughter’s name still delivered an instant breath-stealing jolt.

  Jared’s face fell, and he dropped back on the booth bench, reaching for her. “Cripes, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of—”

  She covered his mouth with her fingers, and his warm breath tickled her palm. “Don’t apologize. Remember—no tiptoeing around each other.”

  He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pressed a kiss on her palm. “Right.”

  The scratch of his five o’clock shadow on her skin sent a ripple of sweet sensation to her core. Inhaling deeply to steady herself, she mustered a smile for him and said softly, “Good night, Gracie.”

  Jared stayed in her thoughts as she drove home, and she caught herself smiling when she remembered his hand-kiss, his teasing, his dark bedroom eyes. Jared had been a pleasant distraction tonight, but as she parked in her driveway, her conversation with Kim replayed in her mind.

  Two babies. Two hospitals. Two stopped hearts.

  And Jared’s muttered curse. That sounds too suspicious to be a coincidence.

  The similarities in Grace’s and the Harrisons’ baby’s deaths rankled, but what did she really know? She was no doctor. Maybe the sudden death of infants was more common than she knew. She’d heard of SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, when babies died mysteriously in their sleep. Maybe Grace’s death was related to that?

  Information. As Jared suggested, she needed to gather some facts before she drew any conclusions that would serve no purpose other than making her paranoid.

  She bustled into her house, a chill autumn wind following her inside. Her black-and-brown tabby, Brooke, greeted her and trotted into the kitchen, winding around Elise’s legs as she begged for her supper.

  “Hey, Brookie Wookie. Hang on. Dinner’s coming.” She fixed herself a cup of chamomile tea, poured Brooke a bowl of food, then set up her laptop. Placing her mug beside her computer, Elise typed infant mortality rates in an internet search engine. Within a few key strokes, Elise had learned that Louisiana’s infant mortality rate of ten deaths per thousand births was higher than the national average. She also found breakdowns of infant deaths by race and region. The statistics, while eye-opening, didn’t provide her the detailed information she wanted.

  She rocked back in her chair, and Brooke took the opportunity to hop into her lap. She idly scratched Brooke’s head and twisted her mouth in thought. Wouldn’t a hospital’s records be a matter of public information? Data on all births and deaths at a hospital would have to be reported to the government, wouldn’t it? If she could get her hands on the records of Pine Mill Hospital, she could compare the information to the state and national average.

  Reaching awkwardly around Brooke to type, she tried a more specific search for Pine Mill Hospital’s yearly data, birth and infant-death totals, but hit a dead end. However the search terms infant death and Pine Mill led her to a two-year-old obituary in the Pine Mill Gazette for the infant son of a local couple.

  Elise scanned the article with her heart in her throat. The baby had died of unknown causes just after his birth at Pine Mill Hospital. Her hand shaking, she hit Print to add the article to her file.

  That made three infant deaths from mysterious causes within a matter of months, all in a small geographic region. Three that she knew of. How many more otherwise healthy babies had died tragically within hours of their births?

  Did she dare contact the parents of the baby boy mentioned in the two-year-old obituary for more information? They could have heard of similar cases, just as she was learning of stories similar to Grace’s. She didn’t want to stir up painful memories for them without good cause.

  As Jared suggested, perhaps her best move for now was to solicit information regarding similar cases. Remembering the online community message board Kim had mentioned at the grief-support meeting, Elise lifted Brooke off her lap and dug the scrap of paper with the URL out of her pocket. When she reached the home page, she created an account for herself and logged on.

  On the first screen, she found a list of the most recent posts and replies. As Kim had said, the topics varied from posts about missing children, questions about legal
rights and suggestions for surviving the holidays without your loved one.

  She spent several minutes reading the various discussion threads and found the replies of the members to be both helpful and compassionate. No wonder Kim recommended the website. Elise sipped her tea and began mentally composing her introduction. Should she make an official request for information or simply explain what happened to her and see if it solicited replies of similar incidents?

  After some thought, she chose to keep her first foray on the message board simple and see what came of it. She could always request similar stories later. At the end of her post, she gave a secondary email address she used for online shopping as her contact info. Taking a deep breath, she clicked the submit button, and her post vanished into the vast beyond. A few seconds later it appeared on the message board.

  “Well, Brooke,” she said, stroking the cat’s back as the tabby rubbed against her leg. “All I can do now is wait and see who replies.”

  Jared tiptoed into Isabel’s nursery and peered over the edge of her crib to check on his daughter before heading to bed himself. He could stand there for hours and never get tired of watching his little angel sleep. But as usual, the tenderness of the moment, Isabel’s innocence and late hour were a potent brew that brought a pang of grief for what Kelly was missing. And for how much he missed Kelly.

  Tonight, however, his memories of Kelly were tinged with a shade of guilt. He knew the source.

  Elise.

  He’d had a good time with Elise, had felt comfortable talking with her, had felt natural teasing her. And had been attracted to her. Powerfully so.

  Maybe that was the root of his guilt. He’d had female friends while Kelly was alive, but his attraction to Elise seemed a bit like a betrayal of Kelly’s memory. He knew he was being ridiculous. Moving on, dating again, didn’t mean he loved Kelly any less or that he’d forgotten her. If the situation was reversed, he’d want Kelly to have a second chance for love and companionship. A life partner to help her raise Isabel. In his heart, he knew Kelly would say the same for him. But his attraction to Elise still left him off-balance somehow. He wasn’t ready to start a new relationship…?.

  Was he?

  He brushed a wayward curl away from Isabel’s cheek, and a pang tugged his heart. Maybe he was unsettled being around Elise because he knew how blessed he was to have Isabel, while Elise had lost her best chance to be a parent, had been stripped of the treasure he savored every day.

  He shuddered when he thought about losing Isabel. One of the reasons he and Kelly had chosen the private agency they used to adopt Isabel had been the agency’s assurances that the closed adoption process they employed meant the birth parents had forfeited all claims to Isabel. Their greatest fear had been to have one of the birth parents change their mind and try to take Isabel from them after the adoption closed. Just considering that scenario lit a fiery determination in his belly. He’d fight anyone who tried to take Isabel from him with every resource possible. Isabel was his.

  Chapter 3

  “Elise, I want you to go with Russell when he covers the ribbon cutting at the new monkey house at the zoo today.”

  Elise hurriedly minimized the website she’d been reading and spun in her chair to face her boss. The newspaper had rather lax rules about using the office computers for personal business, but she’d been checking for replies to her post on the Parents Without Children forum and wanted to protect her privacy.

  “Be sure to get lots of shots of the mayor and town council members, not just the animals.” The editor-in-chief put a sticky note on her desk with “zoo ribbon cutting— 2:00 p.m.” scrawled across it.

  She moved the sticky note to her date book. “Yes, sir. Uh, Mr. Grimes?” she called before he could disappear back into his office. He turned and waited for her to speak.

  She cleared her throat. “I’d like to do some kind of special piece, maybe for a weekend edition, with a photo spread and feature article—”

  “About the monkey house?” He frowned and propped his hands on his ample hips.

  “Oh…no. No. About the people in the region. Small business owners. Veterans with interesting stories from the war. Maybe someone with an unusual hobby. Something with local color.” Something that might give me a better platform for my work than ribbon cuttings at monkey houses. “I’d write the accompanying article myself.”

  “You can write?”

  “I think I write pretty well.”

  He arched an eyebrow and grunted. “Since you used well correctly, instead of saying you write good—a pet peeve of mine—I’d be willing to consider it. No promises.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth and chin as he thought. “Get me a specific idea and sample copy, and we’ll talk.”

  “I will. Thank you.” She smiled to herself as she turned back to her computer. As much as she loved photography, she knew the newspaper was struggling. Too many people had started getting their news online or from television. Rumors of staff cuts had been circulating, and she wanted to showcase her other talents and prove herself useful to the higher-ups. And she aspired to doing more with her photojournalism than snapping shots of the mayor glad-handing at ribbon cuttings.

  A face appeared over the partition between cubicles. “Are you trying to put me out of a job?”

  She glanced up at Russell Prine, the features editor, and shook her head. “No one could replace you, Russell. Why, I’d be surprised if your piece on the garden club’s bazaar doesn’t win a Pulitzer.”

  She flashed a teasing grin, and he rolled his eyes. “Very funny. So, Miss Snark, want to ride with me to the big zoo shindig?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “I’m leaving in an hour.” Russell disappeared again behind the cubicle wall, and Elise opened the web page for the forum again.

  She had her first three replies. Holding her breath, she opened the first one.

  Elise arrived at the grief-support meeting early the next week. She was eager to tell Jared what she’d learned so far, and, if she was honest, she had been looking forward to spending more time with the charming widower. She scanned the room but saw no sign of him. Yet.

  Having skipped dinner, she swiped a couple of cookies from the refreshment table before she took a seat in the circle, carefully choosing one that had an open chair next to it where Jared could sit. She nibbled a cookie and watched the door for him to arrive.

  Good heavens, you’re acting like a scheming teenager with a crush. She gave her head a shake. For someone who wasn’t interested in a relationship, she’d certainly spent a lot of time anticipating the meeting tonight and thinking about Jared Coleman.

  “—Are you tonight?”

  Elise snapped out of her daze when she realized Mr. Miller was speaking to her. “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  The older gentleman grinned. “I asked how you were doing, but since you were smiling, I’ll assume you’re doing well.”

  She’d been smiling? “Oh, yes. I’m doing pretty well. And you?”

  Mr. Miller used her rhetorical inquiry as an excuse to regale her with his medical history with an emphasis on his current arthritis issues. Elise patiently listened, trying to act interested in what the man was telling her about his knee-replacement surgery, while sending furtive glances toward the door.

  When Jared appeared, a small sigh of relief escaped from her before she saw what was in his arms and she caught her breath again. Isabel.

  He had a large diaper bag over one shoulder, and his golden-haired daughter perched on his hip as he talked to Joleen. Mr. Miller’s monologue faded to a drone as Elise stared, her heart in her throat. She’d been eager to see Jared again but totally unprepared for seeing his daughter. Who was the age Grace would have been. Who had her thumb in her mouth and her head tucked shyly on Jared’s shoulder. Jared gestured to Isabel then to the door.

  Elise bit her bottom lip. Was he leaving? Had something happened?

  Joleen shook her head and waved him toward the chairs wi
th a smile then tickled Isabel’s leg. Jared nodded and started toward the circle, his gaze latching instantly on Elise’s. The smile that lit his face as he approached fueled a giddy kick in her pulse.

  Oh, Elise, you are in trouble.

  “Hi,” he said. “Anyone sitting there?” He hitched his head toward the chair beside her.

  “You.” She reached for the diaper bag and helped him get settled. “No babysitter tonight?”

  The older ladies sitting nearby cooed and grinned at Isabel as he took his seat.

  “Michelle has the stomach flu, and my parents had plans. If my having Isabel here makes you uncomfortable, I don’t have to stay.”

  Her heart squeezed as she caught a whiff of baby powder mixed with Jared’s sandalwood. If she needed a reminder of why falling for Jared was a bad idea, the sharp-edged longing that knifed through her gut as she inhaled Isabel’s sweet scent sent a clear message. She wasn’t ready to be around Jared’s daughter, a too-poignant reminder of her loss.

  But Elise cleared the knot of emotion that stuck in her throat and shook her head. “No, don’t go. She’s fine. I—”

  “Kee,” a tiny voice said, halting Elise mid-thought.

  She dropped her gaze to Isabel, who stared at her with wide blue eyes and pointed a chubby finger at Elise’s lap.

  “What?” Elise glanced to Jared for help interpreting.

  “She sees your cookies.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “What can I say? My girl’s got a sweet tooth.”

  “Kee!” Isabel said louder, eliciting another round of adoring sighs and grins from the older ladies.

  “May she have one?” Elise asked, picking one of the sugar cookies off her plate.

  “I suppose. She had a pretty good supper.”

  Her pulse pounding, Elise extended the cookie to Isabel, and the toddler’s eyes lit with delight. She gave Elise a shy, four-toothed grin as she accepted her offering.