“She was screaming and I couldn’t find the bottles so I dumped everything out.”
“I get it, trust me. But it looks like you’ve got it under control now.” Devin reached over and picked a white envelope up from the floor. “What’s this? Want me to open it?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” The baby sucked the last little bit of milk from the bottle. Her eyes were closed now, her little body finally relaxed. “Wait. She finished the bottle. Am I supposed to burp her now?”
“Just put her on your shoulder and pat her back.” Devin didn’t look up from the papers. “The baby’s name is Charlotte. She’s two weeks old. Wow. Two weeks?”
“Who thought it was a good idea to leave a two-week-old baby with me?” Garrett’s voice rose in alarm as he patted the back of the tiny little girl.
“Well, there are some legal papers here that look like someone thought it was a good idea to leave a baby with you forever. You’re listed as Charlotte’s legal guardian.” His brother laughed. “Well...this will put a damper on your merry-go-round of girlfriends.”
Garrett scowled.
“You know I haven’t been out with anyone si—” His mouth dropped open. “Guardian?”
His mind would not process this. Finally, he said, “The mother’s name?”
“Brooklyn Brady. Do you know her?”
Garrett slumped back in the seat, one hand holding the baby in place on his chest. “I know her. I was her law guardian until she aged out of foster care. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
Garrett’s eyes stung. Brooklyn had been his client for as long as he’d been doing family law. She’d grown up in foster care with her own mother dropping in and out just often enough to keep the courts from terminating parental rights. Brooklyn had finally been freed for adoption, but by that time she was an angry fifteen-year-old and no one wanted to adopt her.
“There’s a letter here for you.” Devin looked up from the papers in his hand. “How old is this girl?”
“Eighteen.” Garrett’s emotions had been on a roller coaster—no, roller coaster wasn’t descriptive enough. This morning had been more like one of those slingshot rides that shot you into the sky and bounced you around on rubber bands until you got sick.
Mostly now, he just felt sad. Sick, but sad.
“She says she can’t give Charlotte a stable life. She can’t give herself one. So she’s leaving Charlotte with you because...” His brother cleared his throat. “...because you’re the only person who ever made her feel like she wasn’t damaged goods. Like she was worth caring about. That’s why she left the baby with you.”
Garrett had tried to do his best for Brooklyn, but he felt like he’d failed her. She’d aged out without a family, without anyone to guide her and be her support system. She’d kept in touch with him for a while but when she’d stopped calling, he hadn’t tried very hard to find out why.
“What are you going to do?”
Garrett wanted to settle down. He wanted to know that when he came home from work, someone would be there waiting for him. He hadn’t found the right person yet—not for lack of trying—a fact his brothers teased him about incessantly. But he was tired of being alone.
He wanted a family. He just hadn’t expected it to happen like this. “If the paperwork holds up?”
“Yeah.”
Garrett tucked a sleeping Charlotte into the crook of his arm. She barely stretched from his elbow to his wrist. So tiny and so dependent. He blew out a shaky breath and looked up at his brother. “Guess I’ll have to learn how to change a diaper.”
* * *
Abby Scott strolled down the main street of Red Hill Springs, Alabama, getting her first look at the little town where she’d taken a temporary grant-funded job as the town social worker. Her golden retriever Elvis walked calmly beside her. He was on a leash, but didn’t need to be. He wouldn’t budge from her side unless she asked him to.
Together, she and Elvis had traveled almost constantly for the last eight years, providing animal-assisted therapy in disaster areas. She was the expert in mental health, but Elvis was her partner, the one who really made the kids she worked with feel better.
Compared to the places she usually stayed, the small house she’d rented in Red Hill Springs had seemed positively luxurious when she’d stopped by this morning to drop off her stuff.
The town was charming with the carefully curated storefronts and restaurants. There was even a pediatrician’s office on this street. For a moment, she wondered if he saw a lot of childhood trauma in his practice and then shoved that thought right out of her head. She’d find out soon enough.
The call from Mayor Wynn Grant asking her to set up a program in their town to make sure no kids slipped through the cracks had come at a perfect time. She was on leave from her job at the disaster relief organization, making her own mental health a priority for a few months.
Her last assignment had been hard. She needed a reset. Brain. Heart. Body. Faith.
A car door closed behind her and she turned around to see her old friend Wynn, hair flying, heels clacking, arms stretched out to sweep her into a whirling hug.
Abby stepped back, laughing. “You haven’t changed a bit since our days on Capitol Hill, Mayor Grant.”
“Ha! I’ve seen the bags under my eyes in the mirror. I know that’s not true.” Wynn locked arms with Abby and drew her down the street. “Come on. My office—your new office—is just a few doors down. You might need to pick up a few things before you start next week.”
“I can’t wait to see it. You’re happy? You look happy.”
Wynn smiled as she pushed open a door next to a small brass sign that said Cole & Grant, and underneath, in smaller letters, Attorneys at Law. “I am. I’ll tell you all about it. But we have plenty of time to talk while you’re here. I’m so excited!”
Abby really didn’t have to ask. She could see the happiness and peace radiating from her friend’s face. A knot formed in Abby’s stomach, the same knot she’d been pushing down, pushing away, for months. She hadn’t felt at peace in a long time and a part of her was afraid she would never find it again. She’d seen so much, experienced so much. Her hand inadvertently went to her side, where the scar from the bullet wound that had been her ticket home still ached.
Her job as a social worker on a disaster relief team wasn’t made up of predictable pieces. It was random and exhausting, but also meaningful. Her decision to go on a training mission to a refugee camp near the Syrian border had seemed like more of the same. She’d never worried much about her own safety. Danger to herself had always seemed sort of abstract.
Until it wasn’t.
Wynn’s voice dragged her back to the present. “So this is it. Nothing extravagant. But we have Bess—the best executive assistant in the southeast. Bess, this is my friend Abby. She’s joining our staff here for a few months—unless we can convince her to stay.”
“Nice to meet you.” Bess was young and pretty, and from the looks of her spotless desk, frighteningly efficient. She picked her bag up from a hook on the back of the chair. “Wynn, I have a dentist appointment this morning, but I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Garrett should be in any minute. We’ve got it covered.” Wynn turned to Abby. “I have a few minutes for coffee, if you do, Abs.”
“Of course.” Abby followed Wynn to the coffeepot against the back wall and leaned against the counter while her friend filled two mugs. “I love this. I love all of it. The town, the office, your happy face. I’m so glad I’ll get to be here for a few months to enjoy it.”
“Me, too.” Wynn handed her a cup of coffee with a speculative look Abby recognized. “So tell me why you really had six months to give me for this project. I’m thrilled, believe me. But I thought you were planning to go back to your job when your doctor gave you the all clear.”
“I was.” Abb
y hesitated. She wanted to go back to work. She found it fulfilling in a way that nothing else in her life ever had been. But being wounded in Syria had changed things, left her feeling helpless in a way she never wanted to feel again. She needed time.
She took a deep breath, about to say just that, as the front door slammed open.
A man struggled through the opening with an infant car seat over one arm. On the other, he’d strung a diaper bag and a half-dozen plastic bags from a discount store.
He was dressed in a suit, but he’d missed a couple buttons on his shirt, which was only tucked in on one side. She narrowed her eyes, glancing over at Wynn. “Client?”
Wynn’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah...no. My partner, Garrett. Who doesn’t have any kids and is usually fully dressed when he comes to work.”
Abby watched as Garrett strong-armed his load onto a conference table. His dark hair was in haphazard disarray. Behind dark-rimmed glasses, his deep brown eyes were expressive and desperate.
“Garrett, what in the world?” Wynn reached him in time to help him untangle himself from the line of plastic bags. A pink plastic baby bottle tumbled out of the bag and bounced off the concrete floor.
Abby crossed to the table and picked up the bottle, holding it out to Wynn’s partner.
He took it from her hand and then looked up, shoulders squaring as he realized he didn’t know her. His gaze shot to Wynn, who grinned.
“Garrett, my best friend Abby, our new town social worker. Abby, this is Garrett. And I have no idea who this baby belongs to.”
“That would be me. For now. Apparently.” Garrett shoved his fingers through longish dark hair, making it stand on end. “I’m her guardian.”
“I’m sure there’s a story there and I definitely want to hear it,” Wynn said. “But right now, I have a date with Judge Morrison.”
“You’re in court this morning? I was hoping you could watch Charlotte. I have court, too. I’d ask for a continuance, but it’s a permanency hearing.”
Wynn shrugged into her suit jacket and picked up her briefcase. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I’m cutting it close as it is.”
She wrapped her free arm around Abby and cinched her in for a sideways hug. “I’m so glad you’re here for a while. It’s been too long. I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Go do your job. We have time to catch up before I start work next week.”
As Wynn blew out the door, an uncomfortable silence stretched. Abby shot Garrett an awkward smile.
“I’m usually a little more together than this.” Garrett smiled sheepishly, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I usually shave.”
He was obviously in over his head and since she could understand that, Abby gave him an empathetic smile. “It sounds like you’ve had quite a morning. Most of the time Elvis and I work in places where there’s no running water, so there’s a decent chance I wouldn’t have noticed anyway.”
He looked around the office. “Bess?”
“At the dentist.”
His head dropped. He muttered, “Family emergency justifies a continuance and this is most definitely a family emergency.”
Was he talking to her?
A second later, he dug his cell phone out of his pocket and snapped off a text. He didn’t look up again until he’d shoved the phone back into place in his pocket. His eyes widened when he saw her, like he’d forgotten she was there.
He rubbed his forehead. “Sorry. This morning really threw me. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Abby told herself this wasn’t her problem. She told herself not to get involved. She even told herself to think about that long nap she’d promised herself this afternoon. “I could stay. I guess?”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Are you sure?”
The hope in his brown eyes made her glad she’d made the impulsive offer. “Sure. I like babies.”
“Do you know how to change a diaper?” His grin was lightning fast as he turned to unbuckle the baby from the car seat. “Oh, no, I left the diapers in the car.”
Abby let out a stunned laugh as he handed her the baby and sprinted out the door. She touched the baby’s dimpled chin with one tentative finger. “Hey, little girl.”
The baby blinked up at her, a fleeting smile crossing the small face. Just like that, Abby was charmed.
She glanced down at her golden retriever, who waited patiently beside her. His blond eyebrows seemed a little skeptical, even as his tail thumped on the floor. “Oh, come on, she’s cute, but we’re just helping out for a little while.” His expression didn’t change. “I mean it. We’re not getting sucked into anything, I promise.”
Copyright © 2020 by Stephanie Newton
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ISBN: 9781488060045
The Texan’s Promise
Copyright © 2020 by Jolene Navarro
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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The Texan's Promise Page 19