by Delia Latham
“I’m not sure, but…well, I think so. One of ours here at Wellsprings—at least, she used to be. She was doing so well, or at least, we thought she was. And then she just quit coming. But I had a feeling she was pregnant when she left.” She touched a light, wing-shaped birthmark on the baby’s neck. “She has this same mark on her neck.”
Dawni couldn’t understand the delay. “Then let’s go there. Now.”
“No.” Gabe shook his head and raised a brow at his wife. “That can’t happen, Susanna.”
The director smiled. “Of course not, sweetheart. Here, hold him for a moment, Dawni, before you go. Gabe’s right. I can’t take you there, and I can’t reveal the girl’s name. We have a confidentiality clause here at the center. But I promise you, sweetie, I will find out—and soon.”
Gavin spoke up, to Dawni’s immense relief. He’d apparently realized she couldn’t speak past the boulder-sized lump in her throat. “If the Becketts take him in, you’ll be able to visit him at the ranch, Dawni.”
“May I?” She directed the question to Susanna.
“As long as the Becketts don’t mind, of course you may.”
“Oh! I’m so glad. Thank you—for everything.” She jerked her chin toward the bags stacked just inside the office door and forced herself to address Gabe. “I brought everything that was with him on the greenway.”
Gabe nodded, and offered a smile that somehow eased Dawni’s tension, and she silently chided herself for doubting the man for even a second. Talk about emotions going every which direction.
“That’s good.” Susanna laid a hand on Dawni’s arm. “He’ll be fine, honey. Don’t worry. Oh—I meant to ask…did you find a note or anything?”
She hesitated, and then slowly nodded. “Yes.”
“What?” Gavin frowned. “You didn’t say anything.”
“I know. I looked, after you mentioned it. It was tucked in between a couple of disposable diapers.”
“Do you have it with you?” Gabe asked. “I’ll need to take that, as well.”
“Yes.” She dropped a kiss on the baby’s downy head and handed him back to the director so she could pull the note from her pocket. “I thought you’d want it.”
“What does it say?” Gavin demanded.
Officer Perreti opened the folded paper and read aloud. “’The angel said to leave him here, so I know whoever finds him will take care of my baby. Thank you…whoever you are.’”
Tears streaked Dawni’s face, and Gavin slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close to his side. “Shhh. It’ll be all right. Looks like the Heart’s Haven angels had a hand in this, so everything’s bound to work out just fine, honey.”
Susanna blinked several times and swallowed hard. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Even the officer gave a firm nod of his head, while his lips ticked upward just enough to make it clear he actually believed in “the Hearts Haven angels.”
Did all of these people really buy into all those legends about the little cottage complex? Not that it really mattered. She had another tiny problem that weighed heavily on her mind.
Dawni touched the infant’s soft curls and swallowed a sob. Would she ever see him again?
Gavin kept an arm around her as they walked to his pickup. He opened the door, and then, placing his hands around her waist, lifted her up into the seat.
Dawni sniffed, and then giggled. “I could’ve managed the step up, you know.”
“I know.” He winked. “But I thought you could use a little lift, and besides—you don’t weigh anything.”
He rounded the hood and climbed in behind the wheel, where he stayed quiet, seeming to sense her reluctance to talk on the way back to the Haven. He just covered her hand with his, and didn’t even try to stop her when she cried all the way home.
5
Hours and days dragged by in slow motion.
Dawni missed the baby, and worried about whether he was being properly cared for. Were they feeding him? Did someone keep him clean and dry? She’d discovered that he loved having his back gently rubbed in circles. Why hadn’t she thought to share that with Susanna?
Gavin kept her company as much as possible, but he worked long hours—and so did she. Thank goodness she had her business, Designing Woman, to bury herself in—otherwise she’d be pulling her hair out by now, waiting to hear something.
The day after she left the baby with Gabe and Susanna, a case worker stopped in to ask a hundred and fifteen questions. Someone from Child Protective Services called with even more. But no one gave her direct information about the little guy. No one seemed to know or be willing to share specifics about how he was faring in the system.
Where was he, and would she ever see him again?
Just over a week later, the phone rang. Immersed in an ad campaign for a huge company in San Antonio—ironically enough, it was a chain of stores that supplied items for babies, from pharmaceutical products to diapers to furniture, and everything in between—Dawni jumped three inches off her chair, and then made a desperate grab for her cell.
“Hello, lovely lady.”
She glanced at the clock. Why would Gavin be calling in the middle of the afternoon?
“What’s up, cowboy?”
“Can you meet me at your gate in about ten minutes?”
“Uhm…I’m really busy. What’s—”
“You can work later. This is important. Meet me outside…please.”
He hung up before she could offer any further protest.
Dawni huffed out a breath. Sometimes that handsome cowboy friend of hers could be a bit demanding. Still, she reluctantly saved her work and shut down the computer. She yanked a brush through her hair and splashed cold water on her face. No time for makeup. The jeans and sleeveless, coral-colored top she had on would have to do.
Gavin’s engine revved, and she hurried to the door. He swung her gate open and grinned. “Do shake a leg, m’lady. We have places to go and people to see.”
“Where are we going?” She accepted a hand up into the truck, and found her face mere inches from his. Oh, merciful heavens…those eyes! A girl could get lost in them for days.
Gavin touched the tip of her nose, grinned and shut the door. He swaggered to the driver’s side and climbed in. “You’ll see when we get there.”
Nothing she said on the way pried another word out of him about their destination. But he kept her entertained and laughing, despite the knot in her stomach. What was he up to?
To her relief, he pulled off the road within about ten minutes and drove under a huge overhanging sign that read ‘Beckett Ranch for Angel Kids.’
“This is where you work, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
Her voice caught, and she swallowed. “Is the baby here?”
“Yep.”
Dawni squealed and grabbed his arm. The truck swerved a bit, but he righted it, laughing into her eyes.
“Watch it there, city girl. I don’t know how those San Antone truckers do it, but here, we have to keep our hands on the wheel and the nose pointed forward.”
Her cheeks warmed, but for once she didn’t care about that dreadful blush of hers. “I get to see him? Are they keeping him? Did Susanna find his mother? How’s he—”
“Whoa, whoa!” Gavin’s deep, rumbling laughter made her smile, despite her nerves. “One question at a time.” He parked in front of a long, ranch-style building, the front of which was covered in a glorious display of fuchsia and blue morning glories. “In fact, just come on inside, and get your answers there.”
He opened her door and helped her down, slid an arm around her waist, and then turned her to face him. “You’re trembling. Relax, OK? Everything’s gonna be all right. I promise.”
“I’ll try.” She bit down hard on her bottom lip, determined to overcome the tears that burned the backs of her eyes.
Gavin bent and touched his lips to her forehead. “That’s my girl.” He tucked her arm through his elbow and walked her to
the door, then slid a thumb under her chin and tugged upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Ready?”
She swallowed hard, drew a deep breath and nodded. Gavin opened the door.
Children sat in little groups, reading, playing games, and watching television. Through the window, she spotted several more in a playground area, climbing on monkey bars, flying through the air in swings, jumping ropes. Most of the kids showed obvious signs of disabilities or special needs, some with Downs Syndrome and autism.
A woman sat cross-legged in a circle with several little ones, all around eight or nine years old. Her fingers flew in rapid communication as she signed to the group, who laughed in response.
Dawni’s heart squeezed tight in her chest. All these special needs—and they were just kids. Life sometimes seemed so unfair. And yet…the folks out here at Beckett Ranch cared about them. Oh, how she would’ve loved to have this kind of sanctuary a few years ago.
“Hey, Gavin!” A dark-haired woman with a smile like sunshine hurried to greet them. “Who’s this pretty little thing with you? And what in the world are you doing in here? We don’t often have the pleasure of your company in the children’s hall.”
Gavin grinned and gave the woman a one-armed hug. “I know, Miss Elaine—but that’s about to change.” He tugged at Dawni’s hand, pulling her closer when she held back. “This is Dawni Manors. Dawni, I want you to meet Miss Elaine Sparks. She keeps the wheels oiled and rollin’ here in the children’s hall at Beckett Ranch, and most ever’body here calls her Nonna.”
“Elaine Sparks-Dawson.” The woman shook a finger at Gavin. “Cowboy here keeps forgettin’ I got married last year. Yeah, I’m a little older than your typical blushin’ bride, but hey—better late than never!” She took Dawni’s hand, gave it a gentle shake, and patted it with her free one. “Nice to meet’cha. You know you can’t believe half of what this cowboy says, don’t you? He spends a good deal of time kissin’ the Blarney Stone.”
“I kinda had a feeling. Thanks for looking out for me.” Dawni liked Elaine already.
Gavin groaned. “Now, Miss Elaine, I’m tryin’ hard to convince this gal that I’m a reliable, trustworthy, upright citizen. And here you go underminin’ my efforts.” He drew his eyebrows together and offered a fake glower. “How’m I ever gonna get her to trust me with you around to tell her who I really am?”
Miss Elaine laughed—a low, throaty chuckle. “Well, I’ll see what I can do to help out, if you promise to be on your best behavior.”
“Deal.” Gavin grinned. “Dawni’s about to burst, and here we are makin’ small talk. Where’s the little guy?”
“I take it you’re askin’ about our newcomer? The little nameless baby boy?”
“That’s the one. Still no name, huh?”
The woman motioned them to follow as she hurried down a long hall. “Well, not unless y’all want to give him one.” She paused here and there to touch a child’s head or tweak a turned-up nose.
“Why, I reckon Dawni can handle that just fine.”
As he spoke, Dawni became aware that he still held her hand in his own. She should probably pull it free, but she had no intention of doing so just yet. Even in his strong grip, her hand trembled.
He winked and gave her a smile. “What do you think? Wanna name the little guy?”
Before she could answer, Miss Elaine entered a room on their right. “Here we are.” She grinned. “And he’s wide awake. Come on in, you two.”
The baby lay kicking and cooing in a crib all prettied up with blankets, a mobile, and a thick bumper pad, all in a jumble of pastel colors and kiddie décor.
Obviously, the Becketts accepted donations and weren’t too proud to use them. Someone had painted a colorful juvenile scene on the wall above the bed, and stenciled the words, “Jesus Loves the Little Children.”
Dawni approached the bed, every inch of her body tense and tight. “Hey, little guy. I sure have missed you.” Her voice sounded hoarse, and why not? She’d pushed it past a throat that seemed to be trying to close up completely, disallowing both voice and breath.
Behind her, Gavin cleared his throat. Was he having the same problem? She turned in time to see Elaine pat his arm, while the cowboy dashed the back of his hand across his eyes.
“May I—?” She raised an anxious gaze to Elaine.
“Sure, honey! Pick him up. Babies need to be held and loved. We do our best around here, but we don’t have nearly enough hands on deck to keep them all happy all the time.”
Dawni picked up the baby and cuddled him close to her heart. She placed her thumb in the palm of his little hand, and he curled tiny fingers around it.
“You know, I think he remembers you.” Miss Elaine stepped closer and ran a gentle hand over the infant’s soft curls. “It’s amazing what sticks in the minds of babies we think are too young to remember anything.”
“You really think he knows me?” Dawni couldn’t seem to pull him close enough, and the thought sent a fiery dart of fear through her heart. God, help me. I can’t get in too deep.
As if she wasn’t already.
“’Course he knows you.” Gavin broke in before Miss Elaine could respond. “You’re the lady the Heart’s Haven angels gave him to. He knows who you are.”
Miss Elaine lifted an eyebrow. “Angels?”
“Yep. Dawni found a note we assume was from the mother. She said the angels told her where to leave this little tiger, so she knew whoever found him would take care of him, even though she couldn’t do it herself—whatever that means.” He rolled his eyes, clearly not understanding why any woman wouldn’t want to take care of her own child.
Dawni tended to agree, but said nothing. She couldn’t take her gaze off the bright blue eyes of the little guy in her arms.
Miss Elaine, however, spoke gently. “Well, now…let’s be careful not to judge, cowboy. We never know the stories behind situations like this. Sometimes life isn’t fair, and sometimes—however much a young mother might love her baby—situations exist that make giving the child up a better choice. At least, that’s how it seems to them at the time.”
Gavin’s jaw jutted outward in stubborn disagreement. A layer of ice coated his eyes. “I suppose so, but the Lord’s gonna have to give me a better understanding, I guess. For the life of me, I can’t imagine giving up something that—” He hesitated and seemed to struggle for the right word.
Probably one that wouldn’t sound too soft and pretty for a tough cowboy.
“Well, doggone it, something that precious!” he said.
Dawni grinned.
Miss Elaine laughed and reached up to pat his cheek, which had taken on a deep, brick red tint. “You thought we didn’t know you had a marshmallow heart, didn’t you? You don’t hide it nearly as well as you think you do.”
Gavin rolled his eyes, but said nothing more.
“Y’all stay as long as you want. I’m sure the little fella won’t object, and I sure don’t.” Miss Elaine turned and headed for the door. “Every extra pair of hands is a blessin’ in this place.”
When she was gone, Gavin stepped closer and touched the baby’s cheek. “He sure is a dandy. Whaddaya think? What shall we call him?”
Dawni swallowed. She ought not to love the sound of that “we” quite so much.
“I don’t know…do you have any ideas?”
“Well, we seem to be callin’ him ‘the little guy’ an awful lot. Maybe that’s s’posed to be his name. Guy. Ya think?”
Dawni smiled. “We have, haven’t we? And I like Guy…it seems right, somehow. But he needs another name too. Let’s go with the initials L.G.—for little guy. How about Logan Guy?”
“May I?” Gavin reached for the baby, and Dawni handed him over, knowing she’d get another chance to cuddle him before they left. “L.G. Hmm…what do you think, little one? Are you an L.G.?”
The baby’s mouth spread in a happy smile, and Gavin laughed. “OK, then, Logan Guy it is.” He cocked his head at Dawni. “Guy, t
hen? Or L.G.?”
“He’s so tiny. L.G. seems like it’s more for an adult. Maybe he’ll go by that when he’s older, but for now, let’s just leave it at Guy.” She met Gavin’s gaze with a questioning one of her own. “What do you think?”
Gavin touched his cheek to the baby’s soft one, then turned to place a kiss in the same spot. “Guy. Our little Guy. Yeah, I like it.”
Dawni’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know which she liked better—the baby’s new name, or Gavin’s use of the word ‘our.’
For a stubbornly independent woman, she was digging herself a deep hole. She’d best gouge out a few handholds along the way—otherwise, she’d never be able to get herself out of this one.
6
Gavin cast one last glance into the mirror, set his Stetson atop his head, and walked out of his cottage. Should he drive the truck down to Dawni’s place, or walk? They could come back here for the pickup if she agreed to go. Last-minute invitations don’t usually work with women. You know that. So why…?
Stupid question. He knew why. He’d had a gut feeling Dawni would turn him down flat if he asked her out. So he’d waited. And waited some more. Finally, with his work week behind him, he’d talked himself into risking rejection by inviting her to dinner at the last possible moment. On a Friday night.
As if she wouldn’t have at least a dozen Texas cowboys already trying to find a way into her carefully guarded world. Except he hoped her reticence wasn’t directed only at him. Maybe she hadn’t given other guys any more encouragement than he’d received.
Maybe.
By the time he knocked on the door of cottage nine, nausea churned in his stomach. He hadn’t been this nervous back in high school, when he’d landed a date with the most popular girl in Twitty High—then managed to spill an entire chocolate milk shake down the front of her lacey white top.
High school aside, Gavin Sampson had never had a problem “getting the girl.” But Dawni…man, this gal wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. He didn’t want to let her get away.
The door swung open and his heart sank to his toenails. Obviously some smarter man had issued a more timely invitation.