struggling to make sense of the situation. The infant suddenly voiced his displeasure, and her eyes, as well as her heart, were drawn to him. “A baby isn’t a joke.”
Megan experienced the maternal pull she always felt at the sight of a baby. Forgetting for a moment the note, the accusations and the implications that went along with them, she took the infant from her daughter.
A soft warmth pervaded her chest, then flooded through her. She smiled down at the small, scrunched-up face. “Hello, little stranger. Where’s your mommy?”
Holding the child, feeling the small life wriggle against her breast took her back. Back to the times she’d given birth. To the first time she’d held each of her children in her arms.
No, she reminded herself, not each. Not the first one. She hadn’t been allowed to hold that baby. Her father had had the stillborn infant whisked away before she could even see him. Or touch him.
He’d done it for her own good, he had said. To save her heartache. To help her to move on. She had been seventeen at the time, and there had been so much more of life ahead of her. He’d been afraid she’d cling to the memory of a dead baby if she’d held it to her.
But there were times, even now, so very many years later, that Megan wished she’d had just that one opportunity to make a bond. And say goodbye.
She realized that her children were looking at her, concern in their eyes. Waiting.
Forcing a smile to her lips, she returned the infant to Abby. “Take him to Ford and have him checked out. I want to be sure that this baby is all right.”
“And then?” Ellie asked.
Megan pressed her lips together as she passed her hand over the tiny head. She looked down at the infant. And noticed a small bracelet encircling the child’s flailing wrist. “And then we’ll see.”
“Ellie’s just uptight because he doesn’t have any insurance cards for her to photocopy.” Abby was being deliberately flippant, hoping to distract her mother.
Ellie caught on quickly. “Careful, before I photocopy you,” she countered.
Though he kept to himself a good deal, this time R.J. was on the same wavelength as his sisters. “You can’t photocopy something that doesn’t leave a shadow,” he interjected.
Megan knew why they were doing this, why they were bantering carelessly at a time when they should have been shoring up their defenses. To distract her. Even though she had fought so many battles on her own, even though she had managed to rise above her poor beginnings and the tragedy that haunted her to become the respected matriarch of a wealthy socially prominent family, her children still felt they had to protect her.
And she loved them for it. And for countless other reasons. If this baby did turn out to be a Maitland, her feelings wouldn’t change. There would just be one more child to love.
With affection, she terminated the banter. “We’ll discuss the abilities of the copy machine and your sister’s lack of shadow later. Abby, go.” Shooing her off, Megan turned to the remaining duo in the spacious office. She wanted to adjourn to her own office, where she had faced her toughest decisions, had had her finest triumphs. She felt secure there. “R.J., Ellie, come.”
Abby raised a brow and glanced toward her sister. “Ever notice how she treats the kids like dogs?”
“Go,” Megan repeated.
Abby hurried off.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Dana’s question met Abby the moment she walked out of R.J.’s office.
“I’m not really sure,” Abby confessed. Dana Dillinger was one of her closest friends and she didn’t feel right about brushing her off, but she was really running behind now. “Get R.J. to tell you.”
Dana shook her head and sighed. “As if R.J. could ever share anything but reports and schedules with me.”
Abby raced out the door and hurried to the elevator banks, nodding at several people she knew. Mercifully, the elevator was empty. She got in and quickly pressed the button. Only once the doors had slid closed again did she glance at the baby in her arms.
The eyes were blue, as were those of most infants, and opened wide, as if he were drinking in the entire world around him and storing it up for future reference. Abby felt a tug in her heart, the way she did with each child she held in her arms.
“So, am I really your aunt Abby, or is this just some kind of a hoax?” In response, the baby squirmed. “No offense, little guy, but I really hope it’s a hoax. Not that I wouldn’t mind having you in the family, you understand, but…”
The squirming was followed by a gurgling sound a moment before the infant turned an extreme shade of beet red. A second later, a distinct odor began to rise from the vicinity of his tiny bottom.
How could anything so small smell so bad? she wondered.
“Okay, be that way,” Abby murmured, shifting the baby. This was going to mean a little extra work for Katie, she thought. As if the pediatric nurse didn’t already have enough to do…
DROPPING THE CHART Ford had just given her into the To Be Filed pile, already four deep at nine-thirty in the morning, pediatric nurse Katie Topper turned when she heard the private entrance door opening. She flashed a quick smile when she saw who it was. Then a small furrow formed between her brows when she noticed the baby.
“Abby, what’s up?”
Like Dana, Katie was one of Abby’s closest friends. But if she’d had no time to fill Dana in, she had even less time now. Her mother’s unintentional ambush had cost her more than half an hour. The way her luck was running, she’d probably be called away for a multiple birth on her way back down.
“Got a new patient for Ford to check out.” Abby glanced toward the reception area. There were only three patients waiting their turn with the pediatric surgeon. “Mother’s orders.”
Katie glanced behind Abby, expecting to see another woman entering. “Where is the baby’s mother?”
An involuntary sigh escaped her lips. Abby looked at the infant. “That’s the 64,000-dollar question.”
“But you just said—” Katie began.
“My mother,” Abby clarified. “She wants Ford to check him out as soon as possible.”
The request was unusual. “What’s wrong with him?” Katie sniffed the air. “Other than the obvious. Did you have to bring me a ripe one?”
“Sorry.” Abby laughed. “And to answer your other question—nothing, I hope.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Katie said. She reached for an empty folder. “So, what name do I put on the chart?”
“This—” Abby held the infant up “—is Baby X.”
Katie put down her pen and looked at Abby. “Is this some kind of a joke?”
R.J.’s words, Abby thought. “I wish. Someone just dropped him off on our doorstep.
