“April twenty-fifth,” he says. He sees my look of shock, disbelief, amazement. “What’s so special about April twenty-fifth?”
“Quinn, that’s my birthdate.”
“Damn, really? That’s a coincidence.”
I stare at her. She’s so peaceful as she eats. She has no idea her mother left her. No idea she might be alone in this world. And I wonder if somehow there aren’t any coincidences. Only fate.
Josie finishes half the bottle, and I show him how to burp her. While he does, I go through everything Michelle left. The top of the stroller is also a car seat that snaps off. There’s a bag full of clothes and another full of blankets and a pack of diapers. In the storage bin under the stroller, there’s a baby carrier, a book about babies, a bottle warmer, and the base for the car seat. She brought almost everything one would need to care for an infant. Which makes me think she’s serious about this. I glance at the petition to terminate her parental rights on the coffee table. I wonder what’s going through Michelle’s head right now. Is she somewhere in her car, regretting this and wanting to come back? Or is she breathing a huge sigh of relief?
Josie spits up all over Quinn’s shirt. “Ah, shit,” he says.
“Oops. Forgot a burp cloth.” I get one from the bag, wipe him up, and drape it on his shoulder. “Finish her bottle, and then I’ll take her while you change.” He cradles her in his arm and gives her the rest of the bottle. “You’re a natural.”
He scoffs. “Just because I’ve been around babies doesn’t mean I want one of my own.”
“Sometimes we don’t always get what we want, cowboy. Now tell me something. When you say you’re rich, do you mean relative to Michelle, or rich like you can afford first class plane tickets that you lied to me about?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. Listen, everyone around here knows who I am and what I come from. It was kind of refreshing to meet someone who didn’t. And the money isn’t anything I ever wanted or even deserved. It was a trust fund set up by my grandfather. It’s something I rarely dip into.”
“Maybe you have a reason to now.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Say she’s yours. Is this trust fund enough to support her? Enough to hire a nanny?”
He nods. “It’s enough.”
The look on his face tells me it might be way more than enough. “Like are we talking a hundred thousand or a million?”
“We’re talking fifteen.”
My eyes bug out. “Million?”
“Like I said, it’s not money I ever wanted.”
“Want and need are two different things, Quinn. And right now, you need a lawyer. So I’d get the checkbook out if I were you. And try not to feel guilty about it.”
“It’s blood money, Amber.”
“You had no problem using it to buy me a plane ticket.”
“Your father was dying.”
I swipe a hand across Josie’s soft brown hair. “What could be more noble than spending your money on a baby who has no one?”
She finishes the bottle, and I put the burp cloth on my shoulder. “I’ll take her. You go change.” I walk around Quinn’s small living room, patting her on the back. I take a whiff of her head, her baby smell permeating me to my core. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn
Maddox, Andie, Aaron, and Devyn all stare at a sleeping Josie.
“She just left her?” Andie says. “And she’s not coming back?”
Aaron looks at the papers on the table. “Seems like she’s pretty serious about it.”
“Check your phone,” Maddox says. “I sent you our lawyer’s info. He’s not a family lawyer, he’s a corporate attorney, but Jason knows a lot of people. Text him and see if he can hook you up with someone.”
I immediately fire off a text. The sooner I can deal with this, the better.
“She’s adorable,” Devyn says, holding four-month-old Casey on her lap. “It’s amazing how quickly they grow up. How old is she?”
“Almost six weeks,” Amber says.
“What are you going to do until you get the test results?” Aaron asks.
I shrug. “Amber wants to keep her here. She said she’d help.”
“Here? In this tiny apartment?” Maddox says. “The three of you?”
Andie shakes her head. “That won’t do. You should use the guest house. There are three bedrooms. It’ll be a lot easier for all of you.”
I go to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Maddox follows. “I know this is overwhelming,” he says, “but this will end in one of two ways. She’s either your daughter and you man up and take responsibility, or she’s not and this will all be over in a matter of days. Either way, having a kid even for a few days is no easy task. Use the guest house. We’ll bring over some of Viv’s baby things—a bassinet, her swing. We’ve got it all and won’t need it ourselves for another six months or so.”
“I appreciate the crib and shit, but we don’t need the guest house. Like I said, this will be over soon.” I lean against the counter. “How is this even happening?”
He grips my shoulder. “You dip your stick in enough women and things like this are bound to occur.”
Twenty minutes later, there’s more baby crap in my living room, and everyone is gone. Josie wakes and cries. I’m relieved when Amber gets her, but my relief is short-lived when Amber plops her in my lap. “You deal with this. I need to get a few things from my apartment.”
“How do I know what she wants?”
“Process of elimination. Is her diaper dirty? Is she hungry? Is she hot or cold? Does she need stimulation?”
“How in the hell do I know if she’s hot or cold? And what the hell do you mean stimulation?”
“Playtime. You know, communicate with her.”
“She’s an infant, Amber.”
“She’s a human, Quinn. All humans need interaction. Talk to her. Make silly faces. Let her grab your fingers. Show her some of the colorful toys Andie brought over.”
“What am I supposed to say to her?”
“It’s not so much what you say, it’s how you say it. You could read her the Wall Street Journal for all she cares. Do it in a soft, soothing voice, and maybe use different fluctuations.”
I pick up an issue of Sports Illustrated. “Will this do?”
“Perfect. Read it to her. Show her the pictures. I’ll be back in a few.”
Amber leaves and I’m alone with Josie. “I’m totally going to fuck this up.” I look at the fussy baby. “I suppose I shouldn’t say that in front of you. Okay, you can’t be hungry. You ate not too long ago. Let’s check your diaper.” I reluctantly put my nose near her butt and sniff, not believing what I’m doing. Then I squeeze it to check for wetness. “I think you’re good.” I reach for some toys on the coffee table—a squishy giraffe and a bright-pink hippo. “Look here, these are cool.” I make the giraffe dance around, and Josie follows it with her eyes. She stops crying. “Listen, I’m sorry you got a bum deal for a mom, but don’t like it here too much. As soon as we figure this shit, uh… stuff out, we’ll take you back home and make her find your real dad. I mean really, you do not want to be a Thompson. Believe me. Around here, people will hate you for it when they find out you’re related to Joel or Jon. You’re definitely better off being from some unknown family.”
My phone rings, and I peek at the number. It’s the lawyer. I put Josie in the crib thing Maddox loaned me.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Thompson, this is Jason Truly.”
“Thanks for getting back to me on a Sunday.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m going to send you a few names of family law attorneys. But I know enough to give you a little advice, and that is, do not use an at-home paternity test. I know you can easily order one over the internet, but the results will not hold up in a court of law.”
“What do I do, go to a lab?”
“Your doctor’s office can swab you
r mouths and send it off. Should only take a few days.”
“I don’t have a doctor.”
“I’m sure someone at DHR does. Maybe Maddox’s pediatrician. Try to make an appointment first thing tomorrow, then give one of my friends a call. I’m sure they can help you out.”
“I appreciate the advice.”
“Good luck.”
I text Maddox and Aaron, asking for the number of a doctor. When Amber comes back, Josie is asleep again. She has a change of clothes in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. “What’s that?”
“Stuff from my refrigerator. I figured I’d make dinner. Spaghetti okay with you?”
“I think I like this girlfriend thing. Is you cooking for me part of the deal?”
She puts her stuff down. “I don’t know. I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before.”
“First sandwiches and now pasta. I could get used to this.”
“Well, don’t.” She glances at Josie. “Like you said, this may be only temporary.”
“The girlfriend thing or the baby thing?”
“Very funny.”
“What if I still want you in my bed after she’s gone?”
“You’ve had me in your bed for a week.”
“What if I want you there indefinitely?”
“Isn’t it a little too soon to be having this conversation, Quinn?”
I remember what Aaron said to me last year about him knowing he was in love with Devyn shortly after they met. He told me to wait—that it would happen to me. I didn’t believe him. Yet here I sit, practically asking Amber to move in with me. “I suppose so.”
Josie wakes and cries. Amber checks the time. “She’s probably hungry.”
“Again? How often do they eat?”
“Often, I think.” She motions to the book on the table. “Look it up if you want.”
I hold up my phone. “I don’t need a book.” I Google it. “Damn. Every three to four hours.” I look up. “Wait, does that mean around the clock?”
She laughs. “I guess we’ll see.”
Two hours later, the kitchen is a mess, Josie spit up on me again, there are two smelly diapers in the trash can, and Amber and I are exhausted. I collapse onto the couch. “Leave the dishes. We’ll do them in the morning. How can one tiny human do this to two grown adults?”
“Seriously. And Andie wants two of these?”
“We should go to bed,” I say. “Who knows when she’ll wake up again.” I walk toward the bedroom.
“You can’t just leave her out here.”
“Why not? She can’t even sit up. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”
“Quinn, what if she wakes up?”
“Amber, the entire ranch will hear her if she wakes up. Girl’s got some lungs.”
“What if she chokes or something?”
I glance over at Josie. “Fine. But if she wakes up when we move her, you’re dealing with it.”
“Fair enough.”
We get on either side of the bassinet and carefully move it into the bedroom. We set it down gently and then breathe a sigh of relief when Josie doesn’t wake up. I thumb to the bathroom. “I’m going to wash the baby vomit off me.”
Once I’m behind the closed door, I stare into the mirror. “No way is this my life.”
“No shower?” Amber whispers when I return shortly.
I lean close, not wanting to wake the sleeping beast. “Too tired.”
She straddles me, and it’s only now I notice she’s naked. “I hope you’re not too tired for this,” she says in my ear.
“You can’t be serious.”
“You promised to make it worth my while if I stayed with you.”
I glance over at Josie. “But she’s right there. And she’s sleeping. We’ll wake her. Plus, I need sleep.”
“Well, I need you.”
Suddenly, my need for sleep is overtaken by my need to please Amber. I flip us around so she’s underneath me. I hand her a pillow. “Do not make noise. I’m going down, and I’m going down hard.”
She smiles. “I do love a challenge.”
Chapter Twenty
Amber
I shove the pillow over my head. Not to muffle my screams, as I did last night, but so I don’t hear Josie. It doesn’t work. Quinn was right. The kid has a pair of lungs.
“Just one more hour,” Quinn mumbles. “Then I promise I’ll feed you.”
“Bargaining with an infant. Smart.” I reach over and pat her tummy. She grabs on to my fingers and quiets for a minute. I look at Quinn and giggle. “Please tell me I look better than you do.”
“You always look amazing, sweetheart.” He turns up his nose. “But you smell like baby puke.”
“Sorry. I was too tired to change after getting up with her.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Well, you did it the first time. When do you think they start sleeping through the night?”
“Beats me,” he says. “Maybe she misses her deadbeat mom or is scared because of her surroundings.”
“Do you think a baby that small can miss someone?” It’s a question I’ve asked myself my whole life. I looked it up once. They say a baby can recognize her mother’s voice the day they are born, having heard it in the womb. Did I know Julie wasn’t my birth mom? Did I miss Piper at all? And Josie is six weeks old; she probably already bonded with Michelle, and now strangers are taking care of her. I sit up and get her out of the bassinet. “Are you a hungry girl? Breakfast is coming.”
“I’ll heat up a bottle.” Quinn is slow to get out of bed. Last night was difficult on all of us.
I lay Josie between two pillows and quickly change into a T-shirt and yoga pants. I’m glad my ankle felt good enough to ditch the boot yesterday—one less thing to deal with among all this chaos. Voices come from the living room. I pick up the baby and go out to see Maddox and Aaron.
Quinn hands me a bottle. “They wanted to see how last night went.”
Aaron looks around at the disarray and laughs. “About as expected.”
“You kept her in the bedroom with you?” Maddox says, shaking his head. “Ah, man, that’s a mistake. You’ll hear her every breath and wake up every time she stirs. We slept so much better when we moved Viv to the nursery.”
“That settles it,” Quinn says. “We’re moving to the guest house. I don’t care if it’s only for two days. I can’t do this for another night in my small apartment.”
“Pack some clothes,” Aaron says. “We’ll help.”
The men pack up the baby stuff as I feed Josie, then I go to my apartment and throw all my things into my suitcases. Twenty minutes later, we’re loaded up and heading out the door.
“You forgetting something?” Maddox says to Quinn. He nods at Josie, who’s sleeping in her stroller in the corner.
“Shit.” He goes over and gets her.
Thankfully, Andie and Devyn come to the guest house to help with Josie while Quinn and I shower. By the time we emerge, the third bedroom has all but been turned into a nursery. Quinn stops in the doorway. “This is so unnecessary.”
“Babies need lots of stuff,” Devyn says. “Believe me, you’ll be happy you have it.”
“The pediatrician called,” Andie says. “They can get you in on Thursday.”
“Thursday?” Quinn barks. “Three days from now?”
“Well, it’s not an emergency, Quinn. What would you have them do, deny kids who are throwing up or have a broken arm just so they can swab your mouth?”
“Maybe I can find someone else to do it.”
“Unlikely. Unless you’re an established patient, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a doctor who will take you right away. You should be happy Dr. Johansen could fit you in so soon.”
“Relax,” Aaron says. “It’ll be fine. We’re here to help. But now, we’ve all got to get to work. Speaking of that, the chopper will be ready next week.”
“Good. You have no idea how ready I am to get back up there. What hav
e you been telling the lodge guests who are expecting helicopter rides?”
“That it’s in for maintenance. Don’t worry. Devyn came up with some acceptable alternatives to keep them happy during their stays.” Aaron glances at Josie. “But what’ll you do if—”
“If nothing. It’s not going to turn out that way.”
“Then why even go through this song and dance?”
Quinn locks eyes with me. Because of her, he wants to say. Because she’s afraid of abandonment and begged me to do it. But he doesn’t say it. “Guess I thought it was the right thing to do.”
Aaron pats his shoulder. “More power to you, brother.”
On their way out, Andie turns. “I can see if Joe can bring you dinner tonight.”
“No need. This kitchen is huge,” I say. “We can cook.”
The four of them laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Andie says. “Just text me if you decide you want food later.”
I get my suitcase from the front hall and pull it behind me. “Um, where should I put this?”
Quinn gives me a heated stare. “Where do you think?”
I smile and go unpack my things. Then I sit on the bed and look around the room. Three weeks ago, I was just coming for a wedding. In and out in two days. And now look at me. I’m living on a ranch with a cowboy and his maybe-kid. Quinn appears in the doorway, Josie in his arms, and my heart does a flip.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I was just thinking. We should run into town and pick up a few things for her. She needs more formula and diapers.”
“We?”
“She’s got a car seat. We’ll take her with us. It’ll get us all out of the house. After the past twenty-four hours, I think we need it.”
“Do you know how to install a car seat?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out, cowboy. If not, there are four experts who can show us.”
Out in the living room, I stuff everything we might need into the diaper bag, then I strap Josie into her car seat. Quinn eyes the bag. “Babies need a lot of crap.”
Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series) Page 12