Her hands moved lightly over the baby, automatically evaluating, examining.
Finnegan turned around, ready to make tracks for the outside as fast as his size elevens would take him.
“Not so fast this time, Finnegan. We need some information first.”
Damn. “Whatever you say, doctor.” He gritted his teeth and swung back to her.
“What can you tell me about this baby?”
“Diddly squat. We found her at the Second Baptist Church, in the manger, under its roof. Nobody else was there. She doesn’t look abused, she doesn’t look like a newborn, but of course I’m not the doctor—” he let the word take a bit of ice “—and that’s all the information I have.”
Sophie’s gaze flickered from the baby to the nurse. “You know what I’m thinking?”
“Makes sense,” the nurse responded as she stared at the baby and then down the hall. “Might explain what the woman kept crying out, I guess.”
“Awful big coincidence otherwise.”
“Still, it could be coincidence. It’s not as though she’s the first Asian patient here in Poinciana.”
“And not the first beating victim, either. We’re getting a lot of them lately.” Anger rippled over her face. “And not just our Asian population. Boy, this is lousy. What in heaven’s name is happening to Poinciana?” Her eyes were huge, dominating the soft roundness of her face.
Judah shook his head, fighting for clarity. He was finally free of the baby, but something she’d said had struck him as important. He shook his head again. Got it. “Coincidence? What coincidence?”
Sophie’s mouth tightened as she glanced from the baby to him. “A patient we had earlier.”
He forced his brain to focus. “A patient?”
“A woman. Beaten.”
“What happened?”
“She died.”
“I see.” He scratched the bristles on his chin. “You think this is her baby?”
“I don’t know, Finnegan.” Her sigh echoed his own fatigue. Her gaze returned to the baby. “It’s all such craziness.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that score.”
“Really? How remarkable.” Her quick glance mocked him. Taking the warmed blanket from the nurse, she passed him the one in which he and Tyree had cocooned the baby.
“This little girl looks all right. We’ll give her a thorough work-up and then—” She frowned. “Children and Families will take over. You know how the system works. It’s the way it is.”
“Yeah. I reckon.” Every inch of his skin twitched with the need to go home, collapse on his bed and sleep for a day. Or a week. How many hours had he been on duty? When was the last time he’d slept? Last night? The day before?
Every cell in his battered body craved relief from the fizzing running through him when he was around Sophie. He didn’t know which he wanted more—sleep, or just a release from the tension she created in him.
Every instinct he owned urged him toward her.
It had been like that from the first moment he’d seen her, jogging down Palmetto Avenue, her hair clumped together by a green clip on top of her head, beads of sweat pooling in the small triangle at the bottom of her throat. Beneath fire-engine-red frayed shorts, her thighs and calf muscles pumped and thrust.
And heat had licked through him like a flash fire.
He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing. He’d simply nudged the squad car over to the curb, letting it roll forward with her for a few minutes until she finally glanced his way.
She’d sent him a smart-alecky grin, saluted with a quick hand to her forehead, and shot off, her legs like slim pistons flickering in the late August heat as she disappeared into the path that curved along Poinciana River.
That was how it had started.
Dangerous, being this tired and this pissed off. Remembering. Remembering never led anywhere good.
A faint stirring of adrenaline roughened his voice. “Do I have permission to leave now, Doctor?”
Even as he spoke, she was already walking away toward one of the examining rooms, her head bent to the baby.
The nurse, Cammie, he made himself remember, sent him a quick smile and a thumbs-up.
And once more he found himself treated to the fine sight of Sophie Brennan’s butt, its curves shaping the jacket to her, the jacket moving with each hip sway. He swallowed. His mouth was dust-dry, the night’s fatigue vanished momentarily in a rush of blood.
“Look, but don’t touch, right?” Tyree’s smooth amusement snapped his head around. “Caught you, didn’t I?”
“What?”
“My, my, aren’t we grouchy? Guess doing without will make a man…irritable.”
“I was thinking, Tyree.”
“Sure you were, Judah. And I’ll bet you a nice, green hundred-dollar bill I know exactly what you were thinking.” His grin widened, crinkling his whole face. “Looks like it wasn’t the first time, too.”
Judah scowled at him. “Button it, Tyree.”
“Can’t blame you. The doc sure is one fine-looking woman.” He laughed. “But don’t tell Yvonna I said that, or I won’t be getting so much as a sweet kiss for a month.”
“Serve you right.”
“Nah, you don’t know Yvonna. She can be one tough lady when she puts her mind to it. She can make my life real…interesting when she wants to.”
“Yeah?” Judah listened with one ear, his attention still on Sophie.
“Anyway, c’mon. Another call came in while you were in here.”
“Right.” Judah’s gaze stayed on Sophie as she hovered over the baby, her every movement visible through the still-open curtain.
He couldn’t get over her—foggy-headed, he couldn’t find the word he wanted. Protectiveness. Yeah. He rubbed his head again. That was the word. She seemed so protective of the tiny scrap of life he’d brought to her.
Not cold at all.
Not at all the way she’d been with George.
And none of the prickliness she showed him.
One more puzzle piece.
But he couldn’t make sense of any of it until he’d had a couple of hours of sleep.
“Hey, Judah.
