Only Mine

by Susan Mallery

  He winced. “Don’t let word get out. I have a reputation to uphold. How are you getting to L.A.?”

  “To pick up Hannah? I can’t decide. That’s what I was going to talk to my mom about. Flying is faster, but I’m afraid to take an unfamiliar baby on a plane. Which means driving makes more sense, but it’s kind of long. I don’t know how she’ll feel or what she’s like. She could be really scared.”

  “Let’s fly,” he told her. “I’ll rent a plane. She’s coming into the international terminal, right?”

  “Yes, but you can’t fly me to Los Angeles.”

  “Why not? Don’t you trust me?”

  Her concern wasn’t about his flying abilities. She was sure he was very good. “Isn’t renting a private plane a big deal? And expensive?”

  “Not that big a deal. It’s going to cost more than flying commercial, but I’m talking about a four-seater plane. Not a jet. It’ll be faster than a car, and when you consider going through security and having to get there two hours before your flight, faster than flying commercial. There’s an executive airport just east of LAX. We’ll land there and take the shuttle to the international terminal.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she said, relieved to have her problem solved. “Thank you. This is a huge relief. How do I pay for the plane? Do you want my credit card number?”

  “We’ll work that out later,” he told her. “Let me go arrange for the rental.”

  They decided on what time they were leaving in the morning, then Finn kissed her lightly. “Congratulations,” he said.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “I’m happy to help.”

  After he left, Dakota stood in the center of the room, holding her coffee. She was still surprised by his offer of help, although very grateful. She wasn’t sure why he was getting involved, but she knew better than to ask questions.

  A quick glance at the clock told her it was time to call her mother. She only had one day to get her entire life rearranged. In less than forty-eight hours, she would be a mother.

  BY NOON, her house was overflowing with well-wishers. Dakota had called her mother. Denise had called her other daughters, along with most of the people they knew in Fool’s Gold.

  Nevada and Montana had shown up first. Then her mother had arrived minutes later. Liz and Jo were joined by Charity and her new baby. Marsha, the town mayor, arrived with Alice, the chief of police. Friends and neighbors filled Dakota’s small house.

  She’d already printed out the pictures of Hannah the adoption agency had emailed, and they were passed from hand to hand.

  “Are you excited?” Montana asked. “I would be terrified. The dogs take the best of my maternal skills. I’m not sure I could manage more.”

  “I am terrified,” Dakota admitted. “What if I screw up? What if she doesn’t like me? What if she wants to go back to Kazakhstan?”

  “The good news is, she can’t talk,” Nevada told her. “So asking to leave is out of the question.”

  “Small comfort,” Dakota muttered.

  Her mother joined her on the sofa and put her arm around her. “You’re going to do just fine. It’s going to be difficult at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. Your daughter is going to love you and you’re going to love her.”

  “You can’t know that,” Dakota told her, fighting panic.

  “Of course I can,” her mother said. “I guarantee it. And the best part of all is I finally get a granddaughter.”

  Nevada smiled. “Because it’s all about you?”

  “Of course.” Denise laughed. “Not that I don’t love my grandsons, but I’m dying to buy something pink and frilly. Please don’t turn my only granddaughter into a tomboy, I beg you.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Dakota promised.

  She looked around her crowded living room. Most of the women had brought food for the impromptu gathering. A few had brought casserole dishes that she could use later in the week. That was the way of life here. Everyone took care of their own.

  A very pregnant Pia and her husband, Raoul, Dakota’s boss, moved toward her.

  “So typical,” Pia said hugging her as tightly as her huge belly would allow. “Jumping to the front of the line. Here I am nearly two months away from giving birth and you’re getting a baby first.”

  “Congratulations,” Raoul said, kissing her cheek, while managing to keep his arm around Pia. “How you holding up?”

  “I’m in a panic. I need to go shopping,” she said. “I need diapers and a bed and a changing table.” She knew there was more, but she couldn’t think of what. One of those baby books would help, she thought. Didn’t they have lists of what you needed? “Are there baby things that you don’t need when the kid is six months old?” she asked.

  “Not to worry,” her mother told her. “I’ll go shopping with you. I’ll make sure you have everything you need for the flight home. You’re going to give me your house key. By the time you get home tomorrow, everything will be waiting.”

  If anyone else had told her that, she wouldn’t have believed her. But this was her mother. Denise knew how to get things done. You couldn’t have six kids and not be an expert at management.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, then hugged her mother. “I couldn’t get through this without you.”

  Emotions threatened to overwhelm her. None of this felt real, yet she knew it was happening. She was going to have a baby. A child of her own. Despite her broken body, she was getting her own family.

  As she looked around the room, at all the friends and family who had dropped everything to stop by and wish her the best, Dakota realized she was wrong. She wasn’t getting her own family. Her family had always existed. What she was getting instead was a wonderful, unexpected blessing.

  DAKOTA HAD NEVER BEEN in a small plane before. But even flying in something roughly the size of a tin can was nothing when compared with the reality of becoming the mother of a six-month-old child she’d never met.

  As Finn flew them southwest toward Los Angeles, she frantically flipped through the book she’d bought the previous day. The authors of What to Expect the First Year deserved some kind of award. And perhaps a house on the beach to go with that. Thanks to them, she at least had a place to start.

  “Diapers,” she muttered.

  “You okay?” Finn asked.

  “No. Yesterday Pia went on and on about different kinds of diapers. I thought she was silly. I mocked her. But what do I know about diapers? I can’t remember the last time I diapered a baby. Any babysitting I did in high school was with older kids.”

  She looked at him, trying to breathe through her panic. “This is crazy. What are those people doing, leaving me alone with a child? Shouldn’t they have investigated me more? There were only two home visits. Should I have to take some kind of practical evaluation? I don’t know what formula to give her or if she’s had shots. Kids get shots, don’t they? Shots are a big deal.”

  “Calm down,” Finn said soothingly. “Diapers aren’t that hard. I changed them when my brothers were babies. The disposable kind make it really easy.”

  “Sure. They were easy twenty years ago. Things could be different now.”

  He turned his attention back to the view out the front window. One corner of his mouth turned up. “You think they’ve made it more difficult to diaper a baby in the past twenty years? That doesn’t make for a very good marketing plan.”

  Her chest felt tight. She told herself she was fine, but it seemed more and more difficult to breathe. “Don’t use logic on me, mister. Do you really want me to get hysterical? Because I can.”

  “I don’t doubt you,” he said. “Dakota, you’re going to have to trust yourself. As for the formula and shots, whoever has Hannah now will give you all that information. What did they tell you when they called?”

  “Not that much,” she muttered. “You heard most of the conversation.”

  “Didn’t you have other interviews before?”

  “Yes. Sev
eral. There was paperwork and we talked and they came to Fool’s Gold and checked out me and my family. The process was very lengthy.”

  “So they’ve checked you out thoroughly. If they trust you, then you should try trusting yourself.”

  “Okay.” She inhaled. “That could work.”

  “Remember, you have your mom for help. Your sisters and your friends. You can ask me anything you want.”

  She clutched the book tightly against her chest. “Would you please turn the plane around?”

  “Anything but that. You know you want this baby.”

  He was right. Sure, it was going to be tough in the beginning, but she would learn. Mothers had learned for thousands of years. She was considered to have above average intelligence. That had to help.

  She opened the parenting book and tried to read. The words were a blur. The illustrations frightened her, and the lists made it difficult to keep from screaming.

  “I need more time. Can’t I have more time?”

  “We’ll be landing in about forty minutes. Is that enough?”

  She glared at him. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” He clicked on the microphone and spoke to the tower.

  Dakota didn’t know much about flying, but she realized Finn had been telling the truth. As she looked out the window she saw the vastness of Los Angeles spread out before them.

  She could do this, she told herself. She wanted to do this. She glanced at the notes her mother had given her. She knew she had the right supplies, even if she didn’t know what all of them were. She was prepared for Hannah to be tired and cranky. There were soft blankets and diapers and stuffed animals in the baby bag. A couple of changes of clothing in different sizes, in case Hannah’s clothes were damp.

  Finn had promised to help her with the first couple of diaper changes. There would be a family restroom in the airport terminal. Everything was going to be fine. She just had to keep telling herself that.

  As promised, forty minutes later the plane rolled to a stop. Finn grabbed the diaper bag and stepped out of the plane. Dakota followed. She felt light-headed, and if her heart pounded any harder, it was going to jump out of her chest. That wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Finn checked in with the office and explained they were only going to be on the ground about an hour. Dakota had already called on the flight from Europe. Hannah and her escort were probably clearing customs right now.

  They took the shuttle from the chartered airport over to the LAX international terminal. Finn had the diaper bag over one shoulder and held on to her hand. She clung to him, aware she probably looked pathetic, but not caring.

  The main floor of the terminal was crowded with waiting families. People from dozens of countries spoke different languages. She wasn’t sure how they were supposed to find a woman they’d never met, carrying a baby she’d never seen in person.

  “I wish they’d sent me her picture as well as Hannah’s,” she said. “That would have made this easier.”

  “Dakota Hendrix?”

  Dakota turned and saw a small nun with gray hair holding a crying baby. The little girl was the same one in the picture, she realized. Her face was flushed and she was much smaller than Dakota had expected. Even so, everything inside her went still, as if each cell in her body knew this was one of those extraordinary moments out of time.

  “I’m Dakota,” she whispered.

  “I’m Sister Mary and this is your little girl.”

  Instinctively, Dakota held out her arms and took the child. Hannah didn’t struggle. Instead her slight weight settled into Dakota’s arms, and she gazed up at Dakota with dark brown eyes.

  Hannah wore a pink jumper with a T-shirt underneath. Both were wrinkled and had a few stains on them. Not surprising, given how long she’d been traveling. Her dark hair was cut in an unflattering bowl style, but she was still beautiful.

  Her full cheeks were deep red, and her mouth moved as if she were gathering her energy to cry. Even through her clothes, she felt warm.

  Finn led them to a relatively quiet corner of the terminal. As people bustled around them, Sister Mary checked Dakota’s identification. They both signed paperwork, and then it was done.

  “Someone from the agency will call you in a couple of days, to set up an appointment,” Sister Mary said. “Have you named her?”

  “Hannah.”

  “A beautiful name,” the nun said. “She’s had a difficult journey. She has a low-grade fever and you’ll want to get her ears looked at. I think she has an ear infection.” The other woman sighed as she passed over some baby Tylenol. “This is all we have. Money is so limited. There are so many children and so few resources. The doctor cleared her for the trip but that was more so she could come here. She’s due for another dose in an hour.”

  Hannah’s eyes had closed. Dakota stared at her, torn between the beauty of her daughter and the fear that she might be sick.

  “Is she small for her age?”

  “Not compared with some of the other children. I’ve brought a supply of her formula, a few diapers and her clothes.” The nun glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry but I have a flight to catch.”

  “Yes, of course,” Dakota said. “Please feel free to go. I’ll get Hannah into a doctor as soon as possible.”

  “You have all the numbers for the agency,” Sister Mary told her, handing Finn a small suitcase. “Call anytime, day or night.”

  “Thank you.”

  Finn stood and shook hands with her. When the nun had left, he turned to Dakota. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she said softly. “Did you hear what she said? Hannah might be sick.” The baby’s eyes were closed. Her breathing was regular, but her skin was so red. It burned Dakota’s fingers when she stroked her cheek. “I need to get her to a doctor.”

  “Do you want to do that here or do you want to go home?”

  “Let’s get her home.” Dakota checked her watch. She already had an appointment with the pediatrician late that afternoon. Better to take care of things there.

  They went back the way they’d come. Fortunately, the shuttle driver had waited for them. It only took Finn a few minutes to check the plane and then get clearance. Less than an hour after they’d landed, they were airborne again.

  This time, she sat behind the passenger seat with Hannah strapped into a car seat next to her. Dakota watched her anxiously, counting every breath.

  “You doing okay?” Finn asked.

  “I’m trying not to freak.”

  “She’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so.” She kept her gaze on her daughter. “She’s so small.” Too small. “I know she comes from a very poor part of the world, that the orphanage doesn’t have much money or many resources. I knew there could be problems. They warned me about that.”

  When she’d first applied, there had been several live interviews where she’d seen videos of the different orphanages the agency worked with. She’d also spoken with other parents. They’d told her about children who were small for their age, but quickly caught up. They’d glossed over any initial difficulties.

  Now, as Dakota felt her daughter’s fiery cheek, her own eyes burned.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “You’re taking her to a doctor. It’s only a few hours.”

  She nodded because it was impossible to speak. Her new daughter might be desperately ill, and she didn’t have any way to make her better. Not medicine or even the experience to know how to make a poultice.

  “Do you know what a poultice is?” she asked Finn.

  “No. Why?”

  “I thought it might help.”

  “Dakota, you have to relax. Wait until there’s a reason to get upset, okay? You’re going to need your energy to keep up with Hannah once she’s crawling around.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice oddly thick. It was only then, she realized she was crying.

  She dropped her head
into her hands and gave in to the tears. A couple of seconds later, Hannah woke up and started crying, too. The baby rubbed at her ears, as if they hurt her.

  “It’s okay,” Dakota said quickly. “It’s all right, sweetie. I have some medicine right here.”

  She dug out the Tylenol and measured the dose. The plane was amazingly steady, for which she was grateful.

  “You’re saving my life,” she told Finn. “I couldn’t have done this on my own. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Just hang on.”

  She nodded, then offered Hannah the baby spoon. The little girl turned her head.

  “Come on, sweetie. Take the yummy medicine. It will make you feel better.”

  After offering it a couple more times, Dakota lightly touched the girl’s nose, then stroked her cheek. Hannah parted her lips, Dakota slipped the medicine inside, and the girl swallowed.

  But whatever bothered her was too much for an over-the-counter remedy. Or the child was tired, or maybe scared. After all, she was surrounded by strangers. Whatever the reason, she cried louder and harder, her whole body shaking with her sobs. Dakota tried rocking the car seat and rubbing her tummy. She sang to her. Nothing helped.

  Through the rest of the flight and the car ride to the pediatrician, Hannah screamed. The sound wrenched at Dakota’s heart and made her feel nauseous. She didn’t know what to do and knew that her ignorance could put an innocent child at risk. What had the agency been thinking—giving her a child?

  Finally they pulled up in front of the pediatrician’s office. She got Hannah out of her car seat, wrapped her in a blanket and carried the still-screaming infant into the waiting room, Finn close behind her.

  Dakota, crying as well, could barely speak her name. The receptionist took one look at the two of them and motioned to the door on her left.

  “Vivian will show you right into a room.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Dakota looked at Finn. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said over the baby’s crying. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll call my mom and she’ll come get me.”

  Finn brushed her cheek with his fingers. “Go. I’ll wait. I’m not going to leave you now. I have to see how this all ends.”