The Unclaimed Baby. Sherryl WoodsЧитать онлайн книгу.
Branson had walked her home carrying all the packages. Even though she’d said she could manage, he’d given her one of those impatient, superior male looks, picked up the supplies and waited for her to lead the way. It hadn’t seemed worth arguing about. And it had been reassuring to have someone to cling to each time her feet had slipped on the icy sidewalks. She was forced to admit it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid a tumble without him. For her own sake and the baby’s, she’d been grateful that he’d insisted.
At the house, though, she’d been eager to have him leave. Other than family, she hadn’t had any male company since she’d moved in and Cord was the kind of man who made his presence felt the instant he walked through the door. All that potent masculinity was an unnecessary distraction when she wanted to concentrate on the baby.
Cord had offered to stick around and help, to bunk on the sofa, but she’d figured she was going to have enough explaining to do about the baby without having to come up with explanations for letting a total stranger—a very masculine stranger—spend the night in her house. It was a very logical excuse for ridding herself of a man who made her nervous for reasons she wasn’t quite ready to explore.
The minute she’d hustled him out the door, the baby had begun to cry as if she’d felt abandoned all over again. Sharon Lynn had begun her night of pacing. Even after the baby had fallen into a restless sleep, she’d been unable to fall asleep herself. There were too many decisions to be made, too many unanswerable questions to consider.
By morning she’d reached only one conclusion. She knew she was going to have to call someone, Justin maybe, and report the baby turning up. She probably should have done it at once, but the instant Cord had placed the child in her arms, she had known she couldn’t let go until she could come up with a plan to keep the baby safe from whomever had abandoned it on her doorstep. Protecting the child was all that mattered.
She wanted to believe it was someone who’d chosen her store because he or she had known that Sharon Lynn would care for the baby. She tried to envision a mother desperate enough to let her child go but concerned enough to assure that the baby was in good hands.
But even as she tried to put the best possible spin on things, she couldn’t help thinking that the baby could have died, could have been left in that alley all alone, undiscovered, until it was too late. She knew that was what Cord thought had happened. He hadn’t believed for an instant that the baby was meant to be found. Skepticism had been written all over his face when she’d suggested it. The possibility that he could be right infuriated her.
How could anyone be so heartless? How could any mother do that? she wondered fiercely.
Then she recalled what Cord had deduced. The person doing the leaving had been a man. The baby’s father, perhaps? A man who couldn’t cope with his own responsibility for a newborn? Somehow that was even worse. She prayed for the chance to see that man rot in jail for his crime against the precious baby now sleeping in her room.
It hadn’t required a lot of detective work last night to determine that the baby was a girl. One diaper change had answered that question. The baby wasn’t a newborn. That question had been answered as well. The umbilical cord had healed. She had to be a few weeks old at least. That meant that the mother had held her and fed her and comforted her—and then let her go.
Which brought Sharon Lynn right back to the question that had been tormenting her all night long. How could any mother give up her baby, especially in such a cruel and heartless manner? Had an unwilling father or a new boyfriend been the one to take the baby and leave it in the alley? Why would any woman choose a sick man capable of doing that over her own precious baby?
Those were all questions for the authorities, but as the night had worn on, Sharon Lynn hadn’t been able to imagine letting them take the baby away while they searched for answers. There had to be some way she could become the child’s temporary guardian, if only to assure that the baby wouldn’t become just another statistic in the overburdened foster care system. She’d read too many horror stories about slip-ups, about babies sent home only to wind up beaten or dead within days or weeks. It wouldn’t happen to this child, not if she had anything at all to say about it.
At dawn she called her part-time employee, Patsy Driscoll, and asked her to open up at Dolan’s. Two hours later with the baby fed and her own breakfast churning acid in her stomach, she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to dial the sheriff’s office. To her dismay her cousin wasn’t in yet, but the new dispatcher clucked sympathetically at Sharon Lynn’s explanation for needing Justin and promised to track him down and get him to her house on the double.
“I can try him at home,” Sharon Lynn protested.
“No, indeed. You just take care of that child,” Maribel Hawkins insisted. “I’ll find the sheriff for you. With the roads a mess, people skidding into ditches and every deputy out on calls, there’s no telling where Justin might be. He hasn’t checked in with me yet, but that doesn’t mean he’s not on duty. He has a way of forgetting that it helps if I know where to find him.”
Sharon Lynn grinned at the touch of indignation in Maribel’s voice. She’d taken over while the regular dispatcher was out on maternity leave and her oft-stated goal was to change Justin’s lackadaisical ways. Obviously she was relishing this latest chance to chide him for not following the rules about reporting in at the start of the day. Maribel wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the fact that as the town’s newly elected sheriff, Justin was the one who made the rules.
“Don’t forget he could be at Dolan’s having breakfast,” Sharon Lynn said.
“Believe me, honey, I know all the man’s hiding places. He’ll be over there in a heartbeat.”
True to Maribel’s promise, Justin arrived within minutes, looking disheveled and cranky. Apparently the dispatcher had dragged him out of bed on what had turned out to be his first day off in two weeks. A newlywed, he was none too pleased about that or about the reason for it.
“Maybe I was still half asleep, maybe I didn’t hear dispatch right,” he said as he came in the front door without bothering to knock. “Maribel said somebody left a baby on your doorstep last night.”
There was enough censure and disbelief in his tone to have Sharon Lynn scowling at him defiantly. “That’s correct.”
His voice climbed. “And the reason you didn’t notify me before now would be?”
“Because it was late and I figured there wouldn’t be a thing you could do before morning anyway. Cord and I had things under control here.”
His scowl deepened. “Cord?”
“Another story,” she said dismissively. If Justin was this worked up over the baby, she could just imagine what he’d have to say about the stranger who’d been a big part of the night’s events. Thankfully he let the mention of Cord pass.
He glanced around the living room. “Where’s the baby?” he asked.
“Sleeping, or at least she was until you came in here bellowing.” Hands on hips, she faced him belligerently. “Tone it down, or you can leave right now.”
“I don’t think so.”
They scowled at each other for a full minute, before she finally relented and led the way to her bedroom. The baby was squarely in the middle of her bed, surrounded by pillows. She was so tiny, so precious, with her halo of soft blond curls and rosy cheeks. Her solemn, watchful eyes seemed to fix on Sharon Lynn. Just looking at her was enough to fill Sharon Lynn’s heart with joy. With her gaze immediately drawn to the sleeping child, she moved to the edge of the bed and skimmed a finger across a pudgy cheek.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” she whispered.
“Oh, no,” Justin said, his gaze locked on her and not the baby.
Sharon Lynn blinked at his fierce tone, then glanced up at him. “What?”
“You can’t keep her, Sharon Lynn.”
She had known