Maggie continued to try to soothe the baby, her gaze never left the man. He turned back to stare at Maggie, as the baby settled down again, a hopeful look on his face that made her nervous.
“Who are you?” she finally asked softly as the baby’s eyes slowly closed.
“Josh McKinley.”
Frantically she ran that name through her head and came up with nothing except a vague feeling that she’d heard it before. But where? Most of the men she knew worked at the accounting firm where she was employed. This man wasn’t one of them. Not with those muscles. She would’ve remembered.
“I’m sorry, I don’t—”
“I’m a private investigator. I found your sister for your father.”
“Oh. Right. Pop mentioned—”
“I know you don’t owe me anything, but I need a woman.”
Maggie felt her jaw drop, and she quickly snapped her lips together. If someone had needed a woman, an O’Connor woman, it had always been Kate, her vibrant, red-haired sister. Not quiet Maggie.
“Why?” she whispered.
He stared back at her as if she’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Why? The baby, of course.”
Maggie stared at the sleeping infant in her arms and then back at him. “You’re looking for a baby-sitter? Why do you think I would know where to—”
“Not a sitter. At least—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I will need a sitter, I guess, but right now, I need someone to tell me what to do.”
Maggie kept thinking everything would become clear if she asked a few questions, but each answer was only muddying the water. “What to do about what?”
She’d forgotten to whisper, and the baby’s eyes fluttered open and she began crying again.
“That!” he said in frustration.
Putting the baby on her shoulder and patting her back, Maggie stared at him. “The baby?”
“Of course the baby! What else could I mean?”
Fed up with the going-nowhere conversation, she straightened her shoulders. “Look, Mr. McKinley, let’s start at the beginning. Whose baby is this?”
“Mine.” His single word seemed to come out reluctantly, and he looked away.
Maggie stared at him, blinking rapidly at the unexpected answer. “Yours? You’re the father?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“What’s her name?”
“How do you know it’s a girl?” he demanded.
“She’s wearing pink.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Her name?” Maggie prompted.
“It’s—Damn, I can’t remember!”
Maggie gasped as if he’d revealed a heinous crime. “You don’t know your own daughter’s name?”
His cheeks flushed. “I...I was in shock. You don’t understand. I didn’t even know about her until they...they handed her to me. I know they mentioned—” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s an oldfashioned name. It’ll come to me.”
“I can’t believe you don’t know your—”
“Lady, cut me some slack! I told you—it’s on the papers I have in the car.” He turned to leave, and Maggie was filled with fear that he wouldn’t return.
“Where are you going?”
He stared at her in surprise. “To the car to find out her name. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“No! I mean...how do I know you’ll come back?”
Her question didn’t make him happy. That much was evident by his glowering face. Suddenly he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick wallet. “Here’s my driver’s license, my money and my credit cards. Okay?” He laid the wallet down on the counter and strode to the door.
Maggie stood there, holding the baby, staring at the wallet as if she feared it would try to get up and run away by itself.
Two minutes later he reappeared with a small bag. “Everything’s in here,” he muttered, digging around. Triumphantly he pulled out papers. “Virginia Lynn. That’s her name, Virginia Lynn.”
Maggie pulled the baby away from her shoulder. “Ginny? Is that your name, sweetheart?”
The child hiccuped, then reached for Maggie’s dark hair.
“When was she last fed?”
“They gave her a bottle at four, because I hadn’t called. I remember they told me four o’clock.”
He acted as if he deserved a prize. “Okay, then she’s probably hungry. What is she supposed to eat?” Maggie asked.
“Hell, lady, why are you asking me all these questions? I don’t know anything about babies. That’s why I need a woman.”
Maggie let her lids settle gently over her eyes to hide herself from the angry man in front of her. But he didn’t go away. She knew because she could hear his raspy breathing, as if he’d run a race...or was upset.
“Did they include anything in the bag?”
“The bottle’s in here, but it’s empty.” He dug it out and handed it to her.
“Wanda?” she called over her shoulder. “Could you clean this bottle and fill it with milk?”
“Whole milk or skim?”
Maggie looked helplessly at Josh McKinley, and he shrugged his shoulders. She moved closer to hand him the baby.
He backed away. “Hell, lady, you aren’t going to give up because I don’t know what kind of milk, are you?”
Exasperated, she said, “No! But I thought you could hold the baby while I call my sister. My nephew is almost a year old. Kate will know what to do.”
He reluctantly took the baby back into his arms, holding her against his body, as if he’d learned from watching Maggie.
She headed for the phone, and the baby started crying again.
“She hates me,” he protested, following Maggie.
“Don’t be silly. She’s probably not used to a man’s voice. Speak softly.” She dialed Kate’s number.
“Kate, do you know what kind of milk a baby should have?” she asked as soon as Kate answered.
“Maggie?
