A Bride Before Dawn

by Sandra Steffen

  Beside him, Marsh, who obviously had no sense of humor whatsoever today, said, “We called the judge because we have to go through the proper channels or risk the child-protection agency getting involved and taking control of Joey’s care.”

  “We’re going to be late,” Reed said. “Here, Lacey. I’ll take the baby.”

  “Wait,” Noah said.

  Marsh and Reed looked at him, and so did Lacey.

  “You’re dressed up, too,” Noah said. “Do you have someplace you have to be?” The moment Lacey shook her head, he asked, “Would you do us a huge favor?”

  “That’s a great idea, Noah,” Marsh exclaimed.

  She turned her round blue eyes to each of them in silent question.

  “Joey’s sleeping now,” Reed said quietly. “If you could hold him in the outer office while we meet with the judge in his private chambers, it would be an enormous help.”

  “You want me to go up to the judge’s private chamber with you?” she asked.

  Three tall, broad-shouldered grown men nodded in earnest. “He’s squeezing our appointment in between cases,” Noah explained.

  It didn’t take her long to make up her mind. In a matter of seconds, the entire entourage was hurrying along the curved walkway, up the courthouse steps, through the metal detectors and into the waiting elevator.

  They emerged onto the third floor and arrived at the judge’s office at twenty-five minutes before twelve on the nose. They were right on time.

  Reed left the bag that held a spare bottle and diaper with Lacey in the outer waiting area. Marsh knocked on the raised panel door.

  While they waited for the gruff summons, Noah quietly said, “Don’t stare him down. Don’t fidget. And whatever you do, don’t act like teenagers caught with toilet paper on a Friday night.”

  Reed smoothed his tie. Marsh took a deep breath.

  From the other side of the door, the judge said, “Don’t just stand there. Come in.”

  Marsh went first, and then Reed followed. After casting a look at Lacey over his shoulder, Noah went in last, closing the door behind him. In the adjoining room they fell into rank, feet apart, shoulders back, arms at their sides.

  Ivan Sullivan was one of those men few people liked but nearly everyone respected. He’d earned the nickname Ivan the Terrible his first year on the bench. During his forty-year career, he’d also earned the reputation as one of the toughest, shrewdest and fairest judges in Acorn County. Everyone, including his great-nephews, called him Judge.

  In his late seventies now, his fingers were gnarled from gripping a gavel. Although his brown eyes had faded to amber, his stare was no less haughty as he gestured impatiently for each of them to sit down in one of the chairs arranged in front of his desk.

  The moment they were all seated, he leveled his gaze at Noah. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you here again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Ten years.” As if the old codger didn’t know exactly how long it had been since Noah had stood in his courtroom, hoping his fear didn’t show.

  Older now, Noah admitted that he’d been on a road to self-destruction back then. The last infraction had been for fighting. Technically, he’d been defending some young woman’s honor by hitting a jerk who thought he had certain rights when it came to women who’d had a little too much to drink.

  Noah hadn’t known the girl, but he’d seen her struggling in the alley behind Bell’s Tavern, and, hell, what choice did he have? A fight had broken out and some do-gooder called the police. It turned out the jerk had been the woman’s boyfriend, and she’d refused to press charges. When the judge had pointed his gavel at Noah and asked him if he had any plans to break any more noses, he couldn’t lie. He assumed he’d get slapped with a fine and maybe be sentenced to a weekend in the county jail.

  Judge Sullivan had something else in mind. He gave Noah a choice: a year behind bars or a year pursuing a higher education. Noah had been stunned. The very thought of being locked up, unable to see the sky for a week, let alone for a year, had rendered him speechless, his Adam’s apple wobbling and his hands shaking. At the time, the thought of being confined to a classroom had seemed nearly as confining and limiting as jail. And the judge knew it. On rare occasions, the old man had given other misunderstood and misguided hellions options that had the potential to change their lives for the better. Noah had chosen a higher education, in this case, an Airfield Operations Specialist training program open to new enrollment down in Florida. What he’d wanted to do was wipe the condescending smirk off the judge’s lined face.

  Ten years later, that smirk hadn’t changed. Noah was smarter now and knew better than to try to stare the other man down.

  Marsh began, explaining why they’d requested this meeting. Reed drew the handwritten note from Joey’s mother from his pocket and slid it across the large wooden desk. Just as they’d rehearsed, they stuck to the facts about their surprising discovery of the baby on their doorstep. They described the woman Noah had seen crossing the lawn when he’d flown over, and they outlined the steps they were taking to locate Joey’s mother.

  The judge read the letter and turned it over much the way each of them had. “Who is she?”

  This was the part that was most difficult to explain. “We’re not certain,” Reed said.

  “What do you mean you’re not certain?”

  “She’s either a woman from my past,” Reed said quietly.

  “Or a woman from mine,” Marsh added.

  The judge’s eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me you don’t know which one of you is the father?”

  Marsh and Reed both remained silent, the equivalent of taking the Fifth. Their discomfiture wasn’t easy to witness.

  “Where is the baby now?” the judge asked.

  “He’s in your outer office.”

  Noah didn’t like the way the judge’s lips formed a thin line. He’d seen that expression before. It meant his mind was already made up. Marsh, Reed and Noah flicked a glance at one another. Noah wasn’t the only one growing more uncomfortable by the second.

  “Don’t just sit there,” the judge said. “I want to see him.”

  With little choice, Marsh went to the door and opened it. “Lacey, would you bring Joey in?”

  Noah and Reed rose as Lacey entered the small room. As far as Noah knew, she’d never faced a judge. Not one to let that stop her, she raised that fighter’s chin of hers and strode into his chamber as if she’d done this a thousand times.

  She kept her arms firmly around Joey and planted her feet well away from the judge’s desk. If he wanted a closer look, he was either going to have to bid her to come closer or go to her. Noah’s chest expanded again, this time with burgeoning admiration.

  Judge Sullivan pushed his large leather chair back and stood, his cold, assessing, rheumy eyes on the baby in Lacey’s arms. The clock ticked on the shelf beside musty old law tomes and the judge’s framed law degree. For what felt like forever nobody moved.

  The judge broke the silence when he said, “Take him down to State Services. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

  Marsh backed up until he stood directly between Lacey and the judge. “All due respect, sir, no one’s taking my son.”

  “Or mine,” Reed said, going to stand beside Marsh.

  “Or my nephew,” Noah said, completing the wall of shoulders and determination. They remained that way, three abreast, a united front of protection for the baby they had every intention of caring for themselves.

  The judge’s expression didn’t change, but everyone in the room felt his agitation and determination. Noah waited for the explosion.

  “A baby this young needs his mother,” the old man said indignantly. “At the very least, he needs to be in a woman’s care, and by God—”

  Before Marsh could remind their great-uncle that he didn’t have children and, therefore, was hardly an expert, and before Reed could call the ju
dge a chauvinist and Noah could call him a lot worse, Lacey spoke up behind them. “Excuse me, Your Honor, but I am a woman.”

  The judge gestured impatiently with his hands. Noah took a step to the right, making room for Lacey to fall into formation between him and Marsh, Joey still fast asleep in her arms.

  After looking her up and down, the judge said, “You’re Harlan Bell’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  “I’m Lacey Bell, yes.” After a barely perceptible hesitation, she added, “I’m little Joseph’s nanny.”

  The judge looked as surprised as Marsh and Reed. Noah felt a grin coming on.

  “Is this true?” the judge demanded.

  Since Reed and Marsh were honest to a fault, and therefore couldn’t be trusted not to mess this up, Noah said, “You said it yourself, Your Honor. Babies this young need to be in a woman’s care.”

  “Lacey is extremely good with him,” Reed said, recovering.

  “Have you ever heard of swaddling?” Marsh asked their uncle. “Until Lacey demonstrated and explained the technique, I never had, either. We should be getting Joey home. He’ll want to eat again soon.”

  “Not so fast.”

  Noah, Marsh and Reed didn’t move. Lacey broke away from the others and came to stand directly in front of the judge’s desk. “Would you like to hold your great-great-nephew, Your Honor?”

  The judge took his wire-rimmed glasses off, cleaned them and put them back on. Even Noah was having a hard time refraining from fidgeting.

  After what felt like a very long time, Judge Sullivan said, “No, I would not. He does look like a Sullivan, I’ll give him that.”

  For a moment, Noah almost thought the judge was going to say something complimentary or perhaps bestow some memory of their childhoods, or his. Instead, he said, “I expect a weekly progress report and a phone call the moment you locate his mother.”

  “Yes, sir.” Marsh opened the door.

  “Thank you, sir,” Reed said, gesturing for Lacey to precede him from the room.

  Lacey carried the baby out, Reed right behind her, followed by Marsh. The last one through the door, Noah couldn’t be sure whether the judge was hiding a smug smile or indigestion.

  Noah wasn’t prone to smiles, either, but he couldn’t keep a grin off his face as he followed the others back the way they’d come, through the judge’s outer office, down the long corridor, into the elevator, out through the lobby, down the courthouse steps and out into the valiant unfolding of a mild but far-from-ordinary summer day.

  He’d never put a lot of faith in Fate. In his experience, life randomly knocked people on their ass. Those who could hauled themselves back to their feet and those who couldn’t either crawled to a safe corner or gave up.

  Lacey was a fighter. They were alike that way. He’d said it yesterday. It was good to have her back in town. Orchard Hill hadn’t been the same without her. And neither had he.

  As he followed Lacey and his brothers to the bronze Johnny Appleseed sculpture, he realized that he wanted another chance with her. He wasn’t sure how to go about it. They couldn’t just pick up where they’d left off. Their differences were still between them. Where exactly did that leave them?

  Lacey could feel three sets of eyes on her back. She was accustomed to that. She turned around and faced Noah and his brothers. “This is where I came in,” she said. “Who wants to take the baby?”

  Marsh and Reed both held out their hands for Joey. It occurred to her that one of them was going to be terribly disappointed before this situation was resolved.

  “Why don’t you give him to me?” Noah said.

  The transfer was handled a little awkwardly but safely. Joey woke up, but he didn’t cry. He looked around, unbelievably tiny, but perfect in every way. Her heart gave a little thump, because babies were miracles. Joey was extremely alert. It seemed to Lacey that he was already starting to recognize all three of the Sullivan men. It was almost as if he realized he was one of them, a throwback to past generations of rugged, smart Sullivans.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Marsh said.

  “You were amazing, Lacey,” Reed added.

  “I, for one, am not surprised,” Noah said, his voice huskier than the others’.

  She could hold her own with nearly anybody, but even she got a little breathless when these three turned on the charm at the same time. Flexing the kink out of her arm now that she was no longer holding Joey, she said, “You can have me canonized, throw quarters, whatever, but, for the record, you’re welcome. I just hope I don’t go to jail for lying to a judge.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a lie,” Reed said.

  She tilted her head ever so much and backed up a step. “I have to find a job. That’s what I was doing when you shanghaied me.”

  “That’s what I mean,” he said. “It pains me to admit it, but the judge was right. We’re in over our heads. Joey needs a nanny. We need a nanny for him. We’ll pay you.”

  She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Marsh and Noah flashed each other a quick glance.

  “Reed,” Noah said.

  “Reed’s right,” Marsh insisted.

  “Guys,” Noah said, more firmly this time.

  “But I haven’t had any official training as a nanny,” she stammered.

  “He likes you,” Reed stated. “That’s all that matters.”

  “But…”

  “Before you arrived this morning, none of us could do a thing to calm him,” Reed said. “He responds to you, Lacey. Maybe it’s your scent or the sound of your voice or your gentle touch.”

  Lacey couldn’t hide her surprise. Her—Joey’s nanny? It was ludicrous.

  If Marsh was the rule breaker and Noah the risk taker, Reed, the golden-haired son, was the smooth talker. There was an unmistakable earnestness on his face as he added, “You said it yourself. You’re looking for a job. Come to work for us as Joey’s nanny.”

  “Even if you would just agree to a temporary position,” Marsh said, as earnest as Reed. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

  Noah was noticeably silent.

  After a brief discussion with Reed, Marsh named a dollar amount that widened her eyes. It was far more than she would earn waitressing or working at the clothing store or as an administrative assistant, provided somebody actually hired her. “Define temporary,” she said in spite of herself.

  Again, Marsh and Reed spoke among themselves for a moment. Evidently, having reached a consensus, Reed said, “Whatever you can give us, we’ll appreciate. A day, a week, indefinitely or just until I’ve had a chance to place an ad and we hire a permanent nanny.”

  “What hours are you thinking?” she asked.

  At the same time, Marsh and Reed both smiled.

  “What hours do you want?” Marsh asked.

  “How soon can you start?” Reed added.

  “Tomorrow morning?” she asked.

  Marsh tipped his face to the sun and laughed for the first time in days. Out of the blue, he swooped down, wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her off her feet. She’d no sooner touched the ground before Reed spun her, too. Dizzy, she noticed Noah standing to one side, the baby in his arms, a pensive expression on his face.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Marsh declared. The next thing she knew, all three of the Sullivans were turning around and heading toward the parking lot west of the courthouse.

  Slightly dazed, she started in the opposite direction. She happened to glance up at the bronze sculpture as she passed. At that exact moment, a single ray of sunshine poked between two clouds and slanted toward the sculpture like a staircase to heaven. Johnny Appleseed winked.

  She stopped and stared. Then blinked. “An optical illusion. A trick of the sun. Just my imagination,” she murmured under her breath.

  As she meandered back the way she’d come, she had to pinch herself. Sculptures didn’t wink and sunbeams were not staircases to heaven. She couldn’t discount one coincidence, though. One minute she
’d been looking for a job, and seemingly the next she’d agreed to become little Joey Sullivan’s temporary nanny. Strangely, April’s dream had come true.

  She recalled how quiet Noah had grown when Reed had made the suggestion. Something was on his mind. Was he thinking about the night they broke up? Was he remembering that kiss the night before last? Or was he wondering, as she was, if they dared try again? She had no idea what that would entail, or if it was even possible. And, yet, she was thinking about it.

  Chicago was a bustling, vibrant city, but nobody she knew had discovered a baby on a doorstep there. Sculptures there didn’t wink and mysterious escape artists didn’t sleep under pool tables. She’d lived there for over two years, but during that time she’d never experienced this giddy sense of anticipation, as if anything was possible.

  Chapter Five

  For nearly two years, Noah had been painstakingly restoring an old Piper Cherokee in one of Tom Bender’s spare hangars. A lifelong dream, it required an aptitude for aerodynamics, an innate knowledge of the mechanics of moving parts and unfailing patience. So the fact that he’d spent the past hour assembling baby furniture wasn’t the reason he felt like biting through his cheek.

  He’d had an errand to run after the meeting with the judge, and had gotten home twenty minutes behind the others. A delivery truck had been pulling out of the driveway as he was driving in. Now the entire first floor looked like Christmas morning in a war zone. That didn’t bother him, either.

  Last night Reed had ordered nearly every imaginable baby item they could possibly need from a local store. There were boxes of disposable diapers, baby clothes, toys, a wireless baby monitor, two more car seats, a baby swing, a mobile, discarded cardboard, cellophane and packing foam, and baby furniture in various stages of assembly.

  On baby duty this afternoon, Reed had Joey with him in his home office off the living room at the front of the house. Marsh and Noah were on the floor in the den, a room they were converting into a daytime nursery. At night Joey would sleep upstairs in the heirloom cradle Marsh had found in the attic on the baby’s first night here.