by Terri Osburn
Haleigh did as ordered, and Jessi dipped the small nipple into the baby’s mouth. The hungry little thing began eating like a champ.
“It’s working,” Jessi said, doing a happy dance on her toes. “She’s taking it.”
“She is.” Chubby cheeks sucked in and out as a little hand wrapped around Haleigh’s thumb. The newborn might as well have thrown a lasso around Haleigh’s heart and tugged it out of her chest. “So precious,” she whispered.
“I should probably take her back now,” the mother said, reminding Haleigh that they were standing nose to nose in the middle of the kitchen.
“Of course,” she said, fighting the urge to keep the child close. It wasn’t as if Haleigh didn’t hold babies every day. They were just usually bright red and covered in bodily fluids.
Jessi mimicked the swaying motion Haleigh had used to calm the child and smiled at the doctor. “Thank you for helping. I panicked for a minute there.”
“I’m sure every new mother panics at first.” Haleigh certainly would if she were in Jessi’s position. And then she remembered that she almost had been in Jessi’s position. Somehow the memory didn’t feel as raw today. She took that as a positive sign. “There’s a learning curve, but you’ll figure things out.”
“We didn’t keep you up last night, did we?” Jessi asked. “You look like you haven’t had much sleep.”
Ah, the honesty of youth.
“I spent most of the night at the hospital. Which is why, as you point out, I look like roadkill this morning.”
“I didn’t say that,” Jessi corrected. “I’m probably the one who looks like roadkill.” She punctuated the assertion with a yawn. “Maybe she’ll sleep after this bottle and I can pass out.”
A pushy voice niggled at the back of Haleigh’s brain, and it sounded an awful lot like Cooper.
You’re a good person, Hal. You know you want to help the girl out and let her get some sleep.
She could volunteer to babysit. For once, she had the day off and wasn’t on call again until after midnight.
“Where is this angel I’ve heard so much about?” echoed a high-pitched voice from the front hall. Abby and Cooper’s mother blew into the kitchen, heading straight for Jessi.
“Hello, Mrs. Ridgeway,” Haleigh said, stepping between the older woman and the retreating teen to give her second—and possibly favorite—mom a hug. “Linda Ridgeway, this is Jessi and baby Emma. I’m afraid the new little angel kept her mother up last night, so Jessi and I were working on getting her to sleep.”
“You poor thing.” Linda gave Jessi a sympathetic frown. “Though it’s been decades, of course, I still remember those first days of having them home.”
“She slept a little,” Jessi said, defending her baby’s behavior. “An hour here and there.”
“You must be exhausted.” The newcomer cupped Jessi’s cheek. “No need to worry now. I’m here.”
Brown eyes caught Haleigh’s over a puff of gray curls. “You are?”
Haleigh mouthed the words Go with it then said, “I’m sure Jessi doesn’t want to put you out, Mrs. Ridgeway.”
“Don’t be silly,” the woman said, taking the bait as Haleigh knew she would. “You need your strength to take care of a baby. Especially in the beginning. Don’t fret one minute more. I’ll take care of the little one while you crawl right back into bed. And then, when you wake up, I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Um,” Jessi hesitated. “Okay?” She passed Emma into Linda’s impatient arms, eliciting a loud belch from the baby.
“Very good, little one,” Linda said, shooing the other two women out of the room. “Go on now. I have everything under control.”
“If you’re sure,” Haleigh said, pushing Jessi out of the kitchen from behind. Linda didn’t answer but continued to hum to the bundle in her arms.
“Am I dreaming?” Jessi asked, standing outside her bedroom.
“Linda has been hoping for a grandchild for nearly a decade. Emma is in capable hands, and if you’re smart, you’ll sleep as long as she’ll let you.”
“I don’t know. It feels kind of weird to hand my baby over to a total stranger.”
“You’re living with strangers, Jessi. How much weirder could it get?” Haleigh blamed that zinger on lack of sleep. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve known Abby and Cooper’s mom my whole life. I promise that Emma will be fine.”
Jessi tugged on the hem of her faded black T-shirt. “I am really tired.”
“You and me both,” Haleigh said, and disappeared into her own room with a casual wave. As her head hit the pillow, she sent her brain a cease and desist order on dreams about Cooper Ridgeway. Unfortunately, her brain had other ideas. All of them X-rated.
Within an hour, she gave up and faced the day.
Lunch had ended and the three men were lingering outside Mamacita’s when Cooper remembered to ask about Jessi’s father. “Spencer, do you remember anyone in town going by the initials J.T.?”
“Doesn’t sound familiar. Why?”
“That girl I found in my storage building the other night is looking for her biological father, and all she knows is that he’s supposedly from here and gave her mother the initials J.T.”
“Did her mother meet him here?” Caleb asked.
“No. Up in Bowling Green,” Cooper answered. “Her mom was eighteen at the time and recently told Jessi that the man was older and already had a family.”
“Sounds like an upstanding guy,” Spencer observed. “Why is she looking for him now? Not that I don’t get wanting to meet your father, but does she have a reason?”
Spencer grew up not knowing so much as his father’s name, and only learned the facts last year, shortly after the man had passed away.
“I’m not sure.” Cooper hadn’t thought to ask what Jessi intended to do if she found this mystery man. Was she going to hit him up for money? Break up his family? Expect to move in with him? Or did she simply want to get to know him?
“Gerald would know,” Caleb said.
“Gerald Nichols?” Spencer asked.
“Yeah. He’s lived here all his life except for a few years spent in Korea during the war. If someone named J.T. lived in Ardent Springs, he’d be the man to ask.”
“I should have thought of old Mr. Nichols,” Cooper said. “He might be the last of his generation around here. Could you ask him for me?”
Caleb grimaced. “I would, but he and his wife are over in Napa Valley for the rest of the month. The poor man thought retirement would give him a chance to sit still, but Dolly’s kept him on the road since a week after his goodbye party. Says she’s waited their entire marriage for it to be her turn and she’s taking it.”
“Can’t blame her for that, I guess.” So much for solving the mystery on the first try. Jessi’s one- to two-week stay with Abby was starting to look like a month, at least. “I’ll keep asking around, and if we don’t find an answer before he gets back, I’d appreciate it if you could see what Nichols knows.”
“Consider it done,” Caleb said. “Are we all still on for Brubaker’s after the meeting on Friday?”
Spencer pressed the key fob to unlock his truck. “Lorelei has reminded me twice, so I’m guessing yes.” Turning to Cooper, he pressed his hand to his forehead to block the sun. “You should bring Haleigh Rae.”
Not back to this again. “I don’t think so.” If he convinced Haleigh to go out on a date, Cooper wasn’t going to drag her to the loudest, most obnoxious place in town.
“I admit,” Spencer said, “your terrible dancing could run her off before you make the first move, but maybe she’ll feel bad and take pity on you.”
“I’m not bringing Haleigh to Brubaker’s,” Cooper argued. “She’s too good for that place.”
Caleb and Spencer both looked offended.
“We take our women there all the time,” Spencer said. “What are you trying to say?”
“Come on, guys. You know what I mean.”
“I d
on’t think we do,” Caleb said, crossing his arms as he squared his stance. “Explain it to us.”
Shit fire. Cooper hadn’t meant to insult Lorelei and Snow. And he sure didn’t mean to piss off their other halves.
“I’m not saying that Haleigh is better than Snow or Lorelei. She’s just . . . different.” The tick in Spencer’s jaw proved Cooper was digging himself a deeper hole. “Forget the too-good-for stuff,” he said. “If I take Haleigh out on a date, I want to be able to talk to her without yelling over loud music, okay?”
The explanation seemed to do the trick as each man visibly relaxed.
Caleb turned to Spencer. “Should we let him off the hook?”
Spencer grinned. “I don’t know. I like seeing him squirm.”
Cooper flipped them off as he turned toward his truck an aisle over. “You guys suck,” he said, ignoring the laughter behind him.
“Come on, buddy,” Spencer yelled after him. “You make it so easy.”
This was the crap he got for being a nice guy. “Screw you!” he hollered back. “I’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 7
Since sleep wasn’t in the cards, and Haleigh felt in the way with Abby’s mom and the baby, she ventured downtown in search of artwork for her bedroom wall.
This was an unusual occurrence to say the least.
When she’d moved in, Abby had suggested that Haleigh personalize her room. Make it her own. And in six months, she’d failed to add so much as an accent pillow. In her own defense, the idea of decorating anything intimidated her.
She’d apparently been absent the day they passed out the decorator gene, which was likely the same day they’d distributed non-addictive personalities and the ability to pick a suitable partner. The go-to excuse of her long hours at the hospital grew thin when Abby pointed out that other doctors managed to have full lives.
Even ventured into polite society on occasion.
If only socializing wasn’t so . . . dangerous. In her drinking days, Haleigh had been the life of the party. Once sober, she realized she hated small talk and sucked at mingling. Pretending to have a good time was the worst when all she wanted to do was escape. Marcus had been the king of the dinner parties, always looking for new connections and encouraging Haleigh to do the same. Networking, he’d called it.
Torture was her preferred term.
Marcus had known about her addiction, but as he’d never seen her fall off the wagon, he assumed being in the presence of alcohol bore no challenge for her. Raquel, Haleigh’s longtime sponsor, had suggested she correct this assumption, but for some reason she never did. Heaven forbid she not bend over backward to please her fiancé.
Which reminded her, she needed to call Raquel with an update. The sweet older woman had recently found the love of her life—again—and was blissfully planning her third wedding, this one hopefully the proverbial charm. Haleigh couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the cheerful time. And in truth, she was handling things on her own just fine.
Mostly.
Ardent Springs didn’t offer anything as convenient as a mall, but the downtown area had developed quite a bit since she’d left for college. Her mother had dragged her to a cute little store on the corner of Fourth and Main last summer, so Haleigh pointed her car in that direction.
The first person Haleigh spotted inside the store was Lorelei Pratchett, more an acquaintance than a friend during high school. Lorelei’s penchant for drama and rebellion had led Haleigh to keep a comfortable distance between herself and the bold blonde. Haleigh had yet to find her rebellious side in those days.
As she considered spinning on her heel to beat a hasty retreat, Lorelei caught sight of her. “Hey there, Haleigh Rae,” she called, her voice carrying without the necessity of a megaphone. “Welcome to Snow’s Curiosity Shop.”
Sliding past inviting displays of old suitcases and funky bookends, Haleigh joined Lorelei near the center of the store.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m doing some overdue shopping today.”
“Then you’re in the right place.” Lorelei’s genuine smile went a long way in helping Haleigh to relax. As the store owner approached, Lorelei said, “Have you met Snow?”
“We met briefly last summer when I came in with my mother, and then again when Carrie delivered,” Haleigh replied as she accepted the petite woman’s nod of greeting. “The place is as quaint as I remember.”
Unlike the flea markets and consignment shops Haleigh had visited in the past, Snow’s place was organized while maintaining a relaxed and cozy feel. In lieu of junk in piles, themed displays surrounded them, each with an eclectic mix of items that should have clashed but somehow meshed in an inexplicable shabby-chic sort of way.
The store’s owner had clearly implemented her own style into the business. Her necklace should not have gone with her earrings, and the sweater, which reached the back of her knees, would typically be a no-go on such a petite person. Yet, Snow looked stylish. Like one of those women who could drag three random items from her closet and make them look like something off a runway.
In addition to missing the decorator gene, Haleigh also lacked in the fashion department. Thankfully, scrubs and a lab coat didn’t require Fifth Avenue know-how.
“Thanks,” Snow said. “It’s always a work in progress, but I like it. Are you looking for anything specific, or just browsing today?”
“I’m looking for artwork, actually.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Afraid not,” Haleigh said, embarrassed that she couldn’t offer a better answer. “I have a bare, dark blue bedroom wall to fill, but no idea what to put on it. If you’ll point me in the right direction, maybe something will catch my eye.”
“Of course,” Snow said. “There are a couple of areas to check out, but I’d suggest starting along the left wall over here.”
“Do you want any help?” Lorelei asked.
“No, thank you,” Haleigh said quicker than necessary. She’d rather skip the humiliation of anyone realizing how inept she truly was at this decorating thing. “But I’ll call if that changes.”
Unbelievable. Haleigh could handle bringing tiny humans into the world on a daily basis, but found two stylish women inordinately intimidating. What a proud moment.
Flipping through a small stack of still-lifes, Haleigh gave each an immediate pass. Being greeted every morning by a bowl of fruit didn’t seem very inspiring. The piece needed to be beautiful, of course, but uplifting, too. Something that would tell a story and maybe even make her think.
This was what happened when you sent a bookworm to do a decorator’s job.
Sifting through the next stack, she found three unicorn paintings, two of frolicking cats, and the classic dogs playing poker reimagined with visor-wearing pigs. Definite nos.
“That’s the one you should buy,” Lorelei said, popping up out of nowhere. Following the direction Lorelei pointed, Haleigh located the suggested image.
A half-naked woman, with light hair piled carelessly atop her head, sprawled elegantly across a stool. The man kneeling in the shadows at her feet looked both mesmerized and forlorn, as if he’d give her anything if only she’d ask.
With a tilt of her head, Haleigh said, “I don’t know.” The picture was beautiful enough, and certainly told a story. But maybe not the story Haleigh was prepared to live with.
“What’s not to love?” Lorelei asked. “The woman is gorgeous, clearly in a position of power, and the man at her feet shows she’s desirable.”
Haleigh examined the painting closer, focusing on the woman’s eyes. “She looks lonely,” she observed. “Like she’d rather the man sweep her off her feet than worship at them.”
“Huh,” Lorelei said. “How apt.” Before Haleigh could ask what that comment meant, Lorelei reached for the painting. “I’ll help you get her down.”
“But I haven’t agreed to buy it yet,” she said, rushing to catch the opposite side of the painting as it leaned precariously fo
rward. “I might like something else better.”
Lorelei ignored the protest. “Nope. This one is perfect.”
Reminding herself that she wasn’t the expert here, Haleigh conceded and allowed Lorelei to carry her soon-to-be newest possession to the register. Preferring not to display a mostly naked woman on the streets of Ardent Springs, she said, “Can you wrap it up for me? I don’t want it to get damaged on the way home.”
Right. Potential damage was the issue and not the delicate sensibilities of the local church ladies. All of whom would report back to Haleigh’s mother.
“Not a problem.” Leaning the canvas on the wall behind the counter, Lorelei stepped to the register. “What are you doing Friday night?”
An odd and unexpected question. “I’m on duty at the hospital until six. And then I’m having dinner with my mother. Why?”
“A bunch of us are going to Brubaker’s after the Ruby committee meeting. You should come along.”
“Brubaker’s?” Haleigh’s mouth went dry. “The dance hall?”
“That’s the one,” Lorelei said as she tapped the screen of what Haleigh realized was an iPad. “Spencer and I are taking Carrie out for the first time since she had Molly and she’s nervous about leaving her. You could reassure her that one night of dancing does not make her a bad mother.” Without waiting for a reply, she added, “That’s seventy-one fifty-two.”
Crap. Haleigh hadn’t intended to spend that much on a wall decoration. Quickly debating her options, she decided to avoid the embarrassment of balking at the price and whipped out her credit card. To her surprise, Lorelei twirled the iPad to face her.
Sliding her card through the reader, she said, “That’s kind of nifty.”
Lorelei’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You should see the old biddies jump back when I do the flip thing. They act like I pulled a python out of my pocket and told them to kiss it.”
Since Haleigh had nearly jumped back herself, she couldn’t blame the older women. “It is a bit of a shock when it spins around like that. A warning might be helpful.”
Minutes later, Lorelei passed the painting, now wrapped in brown paper, across the counter. “See you Friday night,” she said with a nod.