by Ally Blake
“She seems fine now, but perhaps tired. You should take her home and put her to bed.”
Wyatt looked away. Elli’s misgivings grew. Her heart picked up a quick rhythm again. The only information he’d offered was that her name was Darcy, and it wasn’t as if the baby could dispute it. He didn’t answer how old she was, he didn’t know to heat a bottle … What was this man doing with an infant? Was the child his? And if so, shouldn’t he know something about caring for her?
She braved a look. As much as she didn’t want to get involved, she could still smell the baby-powder scent on her shoulder, feel the warmth of the little body pressed against her like a wish come true. She took a breath. “She’s not yours, is she?”
His eyes captured hers, honest but betraying no other emotion. “No.”
“Then whose …”
“It’s complicated.”
She put her hands primly on her knees to keep from fidgeting. She briefly thought of all the news stories about noncustodial kidnappings. Sure, he was a crusty, grouchy thing, but was he capable of that? She didn’t want to believe it. “I don’t feel reassured, Mr. Black.”
His steady gaze made her want to squirm, and she fought against the feeling. Should she be frightened? Perhaps. But she hadn’t put herself in the middle of the situation. He had. A man with something to hide wouldn’t have done that, would he? “You don’t know what to do with babies,” she remarked, screwing up her courage. “You don’t even know how old she is.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never held a baby in my life before today. Does that make you feel better?”
There was a little edge of danger to him that was exciting even as warning bells started clanging. “Not exactly.”
She had to be crazy. Despite their first meeting, Wyatt Black was a stranger with a strange baby, in a situation she didn’t understand and she was alone in the house in the middle of nowhere. Calling the police had crossed her mind more than once. But then she remembered the look on his face as he’d handed Darcy to her. It wasn’t just panic. It was concern. And while he said little, there was something about him that she trusted. She couldn’t explain why. It was just a feeling.
She’d learned to trust her gut feelings. Even when it hurt.
She picked Darcy up off the sofa cushion, swaddling her in the blanket. She simply had to know more to be sure. To know that the baby would be safe and cared for. “I need you to explain.”
“Darcy is my niece. I think.”
The ambiguous response made her wrinkle her nose in confusion. “Mr. Black …”
He stood up from his chair, his long, hard length taking a handful of steps until he paused before her, making her crane her neck to see his face. His jaw was set and his eyes glittered darkly, but there was a hint of something there that elicited her empathy. A glimmer of pain, perhaps, and vulnerability.
He reached behind him into his back pocket and withdrew an envelope.
He held it out to her.
“Read it,” he commanded. “Then you’ll know just as much as I do.”
CHAPTER TWO
ELLI STARED AT THE piece of paper, all the while aware of Wyatt standing before her, the faded denim of his jeans constantly in her line of vision. She read the letter aloud, her soft voice echoing through the empty room. Listening to the words made it more real somehow. Wyatt seemed to look everywhere but at the baby.
“‘Dear Wyatt, I know right now you’re probably wondering what on earth is going on. And believe me—if I had another choice …’”
Elli risked a glance up. Wyatt was staring at a spot past her shoulder, his jaw tightly clenched, his gaze revealing nothing. She looked back down at the plain piece of paper, torn from a notebook, with the edges rough and careless. Her stomach began an uneasy turning. This wasn’t stationery chosen for such an important letter. This was hurried. Impulsive.
“I don’t know if you were ever aware, Wyatt, but we share a father. I am your half sister. I tried to hate you for it, but you were never mean to me like the others. Maybe you knew back then. Either way … you’re all the family I’ve got now. You and Darcy. And I’m not good for either one of you. If there were any other way … but I can’t do this. Take good care of her for me.”
The letter was signed simply “Barbara Paulsen.”
If the letter were genuine—and she was inclined to think it was—then he was telling the truth. Darcy was his niece. More importantly, the words themselves disturbed her. Twice she had said she had no choice … why?
“Your sister …” she began quietly.
His boots did an about-face and she looked up from the paper. He was no longer directly in front of her. He had moved and stopped at the front window, looking out over the hedge and small garden. There was a stiffness in his posture that caused Elli a moment of pause. Surely a mother’s care was better than this detachment. Faced with an infant, Wyatt showed the same cold, stubborn side as he had the afternoon they’d first met. Babies needed more than bottles and a place to sleep. They needed love. She wondered if Wyatt Black was even capable of tenderness.
She cleared her throat. “Your sister,” she continued, her voice slightly stronger, “must trust you very much.”
“My sister?” The words came out in a harsh laugh. “We have a biological relationship, if that. I went to school with her, that’s all.”
“You don’t believe her?”
He turned slowly from the window. His dark eyes were shuttered, his expression utterly closed, and she couldn’t begin to imagine what he was thinking. Nothing about his face gave her a clue. She wanted to go over and shake him, get some sense of what was going through his mind. It was clear to her that there was a plea in Barbara’s note. She was asking for help. And he was standing here like some judgmental god doling out doubt and condemnation.
“There were rumors … I ignored them. It certainly makes sense—most of it anyway. It’s not much of a stretch to think that my father …”
There, there it was. The flash of vulnerability, in his eyes and flickering through his voice. Gone just as quickly as it had surfaced, but she’d caught it. What sort of life had he had as a boy? He wasn’t shocked at the discovery of his father’s betrayal, she realized. But he was bitter. She had to tread carefully. She folded up the letter neatly and handed it back to him.
“What if it’s not true?”
His lips became a harsh, thin line. “It probably is,” he admitted. “But I need to find out for sure. In the meantime …”
“Yes,” she agreed quietly, knowing he had to see that Darcy was his first priority. “In the meantime, you have a more immediate problem. You have Darcy. What are you going to do?”
“I am hopeless with babies. I know nothing about them.” His dark eyes met hers, looking as if he expected agreement.
“That goes without saying,” she replied, crossing her arms. “But it doesn’t change that Darcy has been left in your care.”
“I don’t know what to do. A few hours and I’ve already screwed up. I’ve never been around babies.”
Elli offered a small indulgent smile. At least he seemed concerned about getting things right. Maybe she was judging him too harshly. “You were one, you know. A baby. Once.”
“My memory is a bit dim,” he reminded her, but she could see her light teasing had done its work. His facial muscles relaxed slightly and she thought there might actually be a hint of a smile just tugging at the corner of his lips. Just as soon as it came, it disappeared, so that she wondered if she had imagined it. The moment drew out and Elli’s gaze remained riveted on his face. When he wasn’t looking so severe, he was really quite …
Quite good-looking.
Darcy kicked on the sofa, a tiny sigh and gurgle breaking the silence. Elli looked away, wondering what on earth the child might be thinking, totally oblivious to the chaos around her. She thought briefly of Darcy’s mother, Barbara, and felt a flash of animosity. How could a mother, any mother, simply drive away and leave this bea
utiful child on a stranger’s doorstep? Did she not know how lucky she was? And yet … there was a sense of desperation between the lines of her letter. For some reason Barbara didn’t think she could look after her own daughter. She was so afraid that she’d left her on the front porch of a man little more than a stranger.
Wyatt sat down on the sofa on the other side of Darcy, the cushions sinking beneath his weight. “I know,” he said, as if replying to the question she hadn’t asked. “I don’t know how she could do it either. I haven’t seen her in years. Maybe it is all made up. But maybe it’s not. And I can’t take that chance with Darcy.”
“What do you mean?” Elli turned to face him, keeping her hands busy by playing with Darcy’s feet, tapping them together lightly. She was already feeling the beginnings of resentment toward a woman she had never met. Darcy was so small, so precious. Elli had learned from years working in the emergency room that she shouldn’t judge. But it was different when faced with an innocent, beautiful child. She was judging. It was impossible not to. She would give anything to be playing with her own child’s feet at this moment. She knew in her heart that if William had lived, nothing could have pried her away from him.
Wyatt scowled slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “If she is my niece, I can’t just call the police, can I? Because we both know what will happen to her then.”
Elli nodded, pulled out of her dark thoughts. She had to look away from Wyatt’s face. Was that tenderness she’d glimpsed in his eyes? The very emotion she’d doubted he possessed only moments ago? He might be inept, but he was trying to do the right thing.
“I can’t just let her go into foster care. If I do, maybe there’s a chance that her mother will never get her back. I can’t let that happen. At least not until I know for sure. I need to find Barbara, talk to her.”
Elli tried hard to fight away the surge of feeling expanding in her chest. She could already feel herself getting involved, getting sucked into a situation not of her making. Coming here, housesitting for the Camerons—that was supposed to be her way of taking a first step toward building a new life. Her chance to try again away from the drama and pitying looks. Poor Elli. Bad luck comes in threes. Whatever will she do now? She’d had enough of it.
A bachelor next-door neighbor with a baby wasn’t exactly the type of special project she’d been looking for. She drew her attention back to the letter.
“This woman, this Barbara, even if she is your sister, Mr. Black, deliberately left a six-week-old baby on the doorstep of someone she barely knew with no guarantees that you would even be there.” Elli fought to keep the anger, the frustration, the passion, for that matter, under control. This wasn’t a subject she could be rational about. She knew it. It was the exact reason she should steer clear of the whole mess.
“Doesn’t that tell you how desperate she is?”
Without warning, tears stung the backs of her eyes and she bit down on her lip. She got up from the sofa so that he couldn’t see her face. So he couldn’t see the grief that bubbled up.
She went to the kitchen, going instinctively for the kettle to give her hands something to do. Losing William had nearly destroyed her. It had certainly destroyed her marriage. And now that baby Darcy was quiet and content, the emergency was over. There was no way on God’s green earth she was going to tell Wyatt Black—a man she’d just met—the sordid story of her disastrous pregnancy and resulting divorce.
She plugged in the kettle and took out a mug, hesitating with her hand on a second cup, trying to regain control. She should send him on his way. Remind him to warm up the bottles and wish him well.
He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, filling the frame with his solid figure. She paused, the cup in her hand, looking up into his unsmiling face. He had Darcy on his arm in an awkward position.
Elli sighed, putting the mugs down on the counter. She’d taken the new-baby classes with Tim by her side. Back then it had been with dolls and smiles and laughter as the instructor showed them how to do even the simplest things. She’d blocked out those times from her mind deliberately, because they were so painful. But with Wyatt and Darcy only footsteps away, they came rushing back, bittersweet. She’d been excited to be pregnant, but also overwhelmed by the impending responsibility of caring for a baby. How must Wyatt be feeling, thrust into the situation with no preparation at all?
“Here. Let me show you.” She went over to him and was careful to touch him as little as possible. Her fingers brushed the soft flannel of his shirt as she adjusted the pink bundle just the way she’d held the doll in classes. She forced the pain aside and focused on the task at hand. Darcy looked up, eyes unfocused, seemingly unconcerned. Elli moved Wyatt’s hand slightly. “You need to support her neck more,” she said quietly, remembering what she’d read and heard. “Babies can’t hold their heads up on their own at first. So when you pick her up or hold her, you need to make sure she has that support.”
He cradled her close. “Maybe I should call someone. I really don’t have a clue. She’d be better off with someone else, right? You said it yourself. I’m hopeless.”
His eyes were dark and heavy with indecision, and shame crept through her. How could she have said such a thing, knowing how hurtful it could be? No matter how grumpy or grouchy he’d been, she could do better than throwing insults around. Elli could see that he was trying to do the right thing.
“No one was born knowing how to look after a baby, Mr. Black.” She kept up the use of his formal name. The last thing she wanted was familiarity. It would be too easy to get involved. The instinct to protect herself fought with the need to help. “And if it’s true, you’re family. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“More than you know,” he replied, but there was no joy in the words. “Well, she’s here now. I have a ranch to run. How can I possibly look after a child and do all that too?”
It did look as if he was beginning to think of the issue beyond Could you get her to stop crying. The kettle began to whistle and Elli swallowed thickly. “Do you want some tea?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. I should get going, try to figure this out. First of all, I need to find Barbara.”
“You seem to place a lot of importance on family, Mr. Black. That’s to your credit.”
His jaw tightened again, and Elli flushed slightly, not knowing how what she’d intended as a compliment had managed to give offense.
“People tend to appreciate what’s in short supply, Miss Marchuk.”
He’d reverted to using Miss Marchuk now, too. The heat in her cheeks deepened and she turned away to pour the boiling water into her mug. His footsteps echoed away from the kitchen down to the foyer again, and she closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.
She heard the door open and suddenly rushed from her spot, skidding down the hall in her sock feet, wanting to catch him before he left altogether. “Mr. Black!”
He paused at the door, Darcy now up on his shoulder and her blanket around her. A gust of wind came through the opening and ruffled his hair, leaving one piece standing up, giving her the urge to reach up and tuck it back into place.
“Yes?”
His one-word response brought her back to earth. She’d remembered something else, like a page torn from a book. “Heat the bottle in hot water. Then put a few drops of the formula on the underside of your wrist. When it’s warm, but not hot, it’s the right temperature.”
For a few moments their gazes held, and something passed between them that was more than bottle-warming instructions. She didn’t want to think about what it might be; even the internal suggestion of it hurt. She took a step back and lowered her gaze to the floor.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and she didn’t look up again until she heard the click of the door shutting her away from them both.
Elli struggled for the rest of the afternoon, all through her tea and while she made herself a grilled cheese and ham sandwich for supper. It was comfort food, and one she rarely al
lowed herself anymore. The months of criticism from Tim had caused her to burrow further into her grief. And like a nasty cycle, the further she withdrew, the more she had satisfied herself with food. His cutting remarks about her figure had been only one hurtful part of the disintegration of their marriage.
She put her plate into the dishwasher and cleaned the crumbs off the counter. The problem was, she couldn’t get Wyatt and Darcy off her mind. Remembering how William had died made her want to run away from the situation as fast as her legs could carry her. And on the flip side was knowing that on the other side of the line of poplar trees, in a very modest bungalow, there was a rancher who knew even less than she did about babies. One who cared about what happened. At the same time she knew that Darcy would be the one to suffer while he tried to figure things out.
She swallowed, went to the windows overlooking the fields to the south. Wyatt’s cattle roamed there, the red and white heads bobbing in the evening dusk, where she lost sight of them over a knoll. How was he managing now? Was Darcy crying, and was Wyatt trying to soothe her?
Elli wiped her fingertips over her cheeks, surprised and yet not surprised to find she was crying. She’d never even had the chance to hear William’s cries. The absence of them had broken her heart cleanly in two. She got a tissue and dabbed the moisture away.
What would Wyatt do when he had to work? Had he managed to feed her properly? It wasn’t fair to Darcy that Wyatt learned these things in trial by fire. And it was only Elli’s stupid fear preventing her from helping. Shouldn’t the welfare of the baby come before her own hang-ups?
She wiped her eyes once more, pity for the infant swamping her. Shouldn’t someone put that baby ahead of themselves?
Before she could reconsider, she grabbed her jacket from the coatrack and made the short trek across the grass to his house.
Wyatt paced the floor, Darcy on his shoulder, her damp lips pressed to his neck. His shoulders tensed as he thought about all he should have accomplished around the farm this afternoon. He’d managed to boot up the computer long enough to find Barbara in an Internet search, but when he called the number listed, there was no answer. He’d tried twice since, during moments when he’d thought Darcy was asleep.