broken body, she was getting her own family.
As she looked around the room, at all the friends and family who had dropped everything to stop by and wish her the best, Dakota realized she was wrong. She wasn’t getting her own family. Her family had always existed. What she was getting instead was a wonderful, unexpected blessing.
DAKOTA HAD NEVER BEEN in a small plane before. But even flying in something roughly the size of a tin can was nothing when compared with the reality of becoming the mother of a six-month-old child she’d never met.
As Finn flew them southwest toward Los Angeles, she frantically flipped through the book she’d bought the previous day. The authors of What to Expect the First Year deserved some kind of award. And perhaps a house on the beach to go with that. Thanks to them, she at least had a place to start.
“Diapers,” she muttered.
“You okay?” Finn asked.
“No. Yesterday Pia went on and on about different kinds of diapers. I thought she was silly. I mocked her. But what do I know about diapers? I can’t remember the last time I diapered a baby. Any babysitting I did in high school was with older kids.”
She looked at him, trying to breathe through her panic. “This is crazy. What are those people doing, leaving me alone with a child? Shouldn’t they have investigated me more? There were only two home visits. Should I have to take some kind of practical evaluation? I don’t know what formula to give her or if she’s had shots. Kids get shots, don’t they? Shots are a big deal.”
“Calm down,” Finn said soothingly. “Diapers aren’t that hard. I changed them when my brothers were babies. The disposable kind make it really easy.”
“Sure. They were easy twenty years ago. Things could be different now.”
He turned his attention back to the view out the front window. One corner of his mouth turned up. “You think they’ve made it more difficult to diaper a baby in the past twenty years? That doesn’t make for a very good marketing plan.”
Her chest felt tight. She told herself she was fine, but it seemed more and more difficult to breathe. “Don’t use logic on me, mister. Do you really want me to get hysterical? Because I can.”
“I don’t doubt you,” he said. “Dakota, you’re going to have to trust yourself. As for the formula and shots, whoever has Hannah now will give you all that information. What did they tell you when they called?”
“Not that much,” she muttered. “You heard most of the conversation.”
“Didn’t you have other interviews before?”
“Yes. Several. There was paperwork and we talked and they came to Fool’s Gold and checked out me and my family. The process was very lengthy.”
“So they’ve checked you out thoroughly. If they trust you, then you should try trusting yourself.”
“Okay.” She inhaled. “That could work.”
“Remember, you have your mom for help. Your sisters and your friends. You can ask me anything you want.”
She clutched the book tightly against her chest. “Would you please turn the plane around?”
“Anything but that. You know you want this baby.”
He was right. Sure, it was going to be tough in the beginning, but she would learn. Mothers had learned for thousands of years. She was considered to have above average intelligence. That had to help.
She opened the parenting book and tried to read. The words were a blur. The illustrations frightened her, and the lists made it difficult to keep from screaming.
“I need more time. Can’t I have more time?”
“We’ll be landing in about forty minutes. Is that enough?”
She glared at him. “That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” He clicked on the microphone and spoke to the tower.
Dakota didn’t know much about flying, but she realized Finn had been telling the truth. As she looked out the window she saw the vastness of Los Angeles spread out before them.
She could do this, she told herself. She wanted to do this. She glanced at the notes her mother had given her. She knew she had the right supplies, even if she didn’t know what all of them were. She was prepared for Hannah to be tired and cranky. There were soft blankets and diapers and stuffed animals in the baby bag. A couple of changes of clothing in different sizes, in case Hannah’s clothes were damp.
Finn had promised to help her with the first couple of diaper changes. There would be a family restroom in the airport terminal. Everything was going to be fine. She just had to keep telling herself that.
As promised, forty minutes later the plane rolled to a stop. Finn grabbed the diaper bag and stepped out of the plane. Dakota followed. She felt light-headed, and if her heart pounded any harder, it was going to jump out of her chest. That wasn’t going to be pretty.
Finn checked in with the office and explained they were only going to be on the ground about an hour. Dakota had already called on the flight from Europe. Hannah and her escort were probably clearing customs right now.
They took the shuttle from the chartered airport over to the LAX international terminal. Finn had the diaper bag over one shoulder and held on to her hand. She clung to him, aware she probably looked pathetic, but not caring.
The main floor of the terminal was crowded with waiting families. People from dozens of countries spoke different languages. She wasn’t sure how they were supposed to find a woman they’d never met, carrying a baby she’d never seen in person.
“I wish they’d sent me her picture as well as Hannah’s,” she said. “That would have made this easier.”
“Dakota Hendrix?”
Dakota turned and saw a small nun with gray hair holding a crying baby. The little girl was the same one in the picture, she realized. Her face was flushed and she was much smaller than Dakota had expected. Even so, everything inside her went still, as if each cell in her body knew this was one of those extraordinary moments out of time.
“I’m Dakota,” she whispered.
“I’m Sister Mary and this is your little girl.”
Instinctively, Dakota held out her arms and took the child. Hannah didn’t struggle. Instead her slight weight settled into Dakota’s arms, and she gazed up at Dakota with dark brown eyes.
Hannah wore a pink jumper with a T-shirt underneath. Both were wrinkled and had a few stains on them. Not surprising, given how long she’d been traveling. Her dark hair was cut in an unflattering bowl style, but she was still beautiful.
Her full cheeks were deep red, and her mouth moved as if she were gathering her energy to cry. Even through her clothes, she felt warm.
Finn led them to a relatively quiet corner of the terminal. As people bustled around them, Sister Mary checked Dakota’s identification. They both signed paperwork, and then it was
