“Why?”
Her eyebrows lifted, giving away her surprise. “So they can come get Jack, of course.”
He shook his head. “They’d only try to locate his next of kin, and that’s me, so there’s no need to call them.”
“But you aren’t equipped to take care of him.”
“No,” he said grimly, “but it looks like I have little choice.”
“So what does that mean? What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “Raise him.”
She blinked at him. “Just like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.” What did it say about him that he hadn’t even hesitated? That he was honorable? Responsible? Both fit with him being a sheriff. “You’re not even going to think about it?”
“My uncle took me in, taught me what it meant to be a man. Jack was like a brother to me. Of course I’m going to take care of his kid.”
“That’s huge. There aren’t many men I know who would just take a baby in like that.”
“Then they aren’t men.”
That was a pretty tough stance. But after a moment’s thought, Michelle nodded. He was right. One thing she could say about her dad, he’d never tried to give her away.
“Do you have to start tonight? Couldn’t you call Child Services to take him until you move into your new place and get all the gear you’ll need?” How could she work on the house with a baby around? They required care and feeding, and quiet.
His hands went to his hips and he shook his head, his expression forbidding.
“Ms. Ross, if anyone is leaving tonight, it’s you. As it is, you’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. Because this is my place for the next four months.”
“But I need to sell the house. And I need to make improvements.”
“Not my problem.”
“But it’s my house.”
“And I have a lease. We’ve been over this.”
“But—”
He held up a hand. “There are rental laws. Read them. Then we’ll talk.”
Michelle wanted to bite the offending hand. Arrogant jerk. It wasn’t her fault her father rented the place without letting her know. She had the right to move on with her life and selling this house was a big part of that.
But she was smart enough to know pressing the issue wouldn’t gain her any points, so she retreated.
She nodded at the note. “What about the mother? She didn’t sign the note. Do you know her?”
“I met her. Wasn’t impressed.” The very flatness of his tone spoke volumes. “She has a criminal record so she won’t get another chance to hurt Jack.”
“Understand I have no sympathy for the woman, but it’s possible she knocked. We were arguing and the storm is loud.”
“Then she should have knocked harder—” there was no give in his response “—waited for me to open the door and talked to me.”
“You might have said no.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“No, but it’s a possibility she wasn’t willing to risk. Wait …” Michelle suddenly noticed something was different. “He’s stopped shivering. I heard that’s bad.”
“Maybe not.” His calm response took the edge off her panic. “If he were still in the cold, yes. But he’s been warming up. The need to shiver is gone. Is he still breathing?”
She froze, worried for a moment he’d stopped, but she felt the soft heat of his breath against her chest.
“Yeah.” She glanced down at her misshaped T-shirt. “I’d feel better if I could see him.”
Nate stepped over, grabbed the neck of her undershirt in both hands and effortlessly tore an eight-inch rip down the front. Michelle gasped, shocked by his outrageous action.
“Hey!” she protested, glowering at him.
“You said you wanted to see the baby. Now you can.”
Yeah, and the swell of her breasts and the pink lace of her bra. She pulled her flannel shirt closed over herself and the baby.
“I thought the point was to keep the baby warm.”
“Right. And skin-to-skin is the best way. Warm fluids would be good, too.”
She nodded toward the diaper bag. “There’s probably stuff to make a bottle in there. Do you think you can handle it or should we trade places?”
“If I’m going to raise him, I may as well learn how to feed him now.” He grabbed a bottle and a tin of formula from the diaper bag and headed for the kitchen.
Michelle frowned after him. Most people would probably find that admirable. She just found it annoying. It was just as much a fault to have to do everything yourself as to want everyone else to do it for you.
Then again she may just be reacting to her disappointment in not getting to see the baby pressed to Nate’s bare chest.
She imagined it would be a pretty impressive sight.
Thinking about it, she decided, no, her annoyance had nothing to do with being denied an erotic peek and everything to do with Sheriff Nate Connor being an arrogant pain in the butt.
In the kitchen Nate leaned against the counter and curled his shaking hands into fists.
How righteous he sounded when he told her he’d be raising Jack. Little did she know the internal fight he went through.
What did he know about raising a kid? Nothing. Sure his uncle had taken him in, but he’d been a stupid teenager and Uncle Stan already had a kid, so taking on Nate had been nothing new. And the Lord knew Nate was already messed up so there was little Uncle Stan could do to damage him.
Not so with Jack. He was an infant with his whole life spread out before him. The damage Nate could do encompassed everything from the baby’s health to his spiritual upraising. Nate groaned. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he went to church, the last time he’d done more than take the Lord’s name in vain.
New rule—no cursing.
Because he was a father now, no matter how freaked the notion made him. Because he was no coward and no quitter. He owed Uncle Stan and Jack, so Nate reached for the can of formula and began to read.
He would learn and he would adjust. And he and baby Jack would be just fine.
The
