and Janette were doing.
“You have work to do.” There was a sharp note in Janette’s voice that wasn’t lost on Lana. She glanced around the display area. It looked fine. Brittany was a conscientious and focused kid, even if she did have five earrings in each ear and her navel pierced, which fortunately didn’t show in the clothes she wore to work. Nor did the two tattoos she’d gotten over the summer.
“Oh, lighten up, Janette,” Brittany countered. “We’ve sold two of those really expensive solid cherry furniture suites since he’s been here. I mean, when customers come in and see him lying in the bed or swinging in his swing, they can’t help themselves. They buy the works, even if they just came in to window-shop. I think we should consider keeping a baby here all the time.”
Janette was divorced with three kids and an ex-husband who was six months behind on child support. She was slightly more immune to Greg’s charm than Brittany, but only slightly. “Honey, if you’re that susceptible to a man’s come-on already, you’re in for a lot of heartbreak.” But she was grinning when she said it, and she bent to give Greg a kiss. “Men are all alike. They smile and look deep into your eyes and let you think you’re their moon and stars. When all they really want is for you to fill their stomach or warm their beds, preferably both.” Janette ran the tip of her finger along the satiny curve of Greg’s cheek. “Are you hungry, little man? Hmm, I bet you are.”
“He is due for a feeding. I’ll warm his bottle.” Brittany looked up as a very pregnant young woman entered the store. It was her responsibility to greet customers. “Sorry, little guy. You’ll have to wait,” she whispered, moving away from the carrier.
“You go get Greg’s bottle ready,” Lana said, raising a hand to wave Brittany back. “I’ll wait on her.”
“Thanks.” Brittany picked up Greg’s carrier and disappeared into the back room to heat his bottle.
Janette made a clucking noise with her tongue. “You’re spoilin’ that girl as bad as this baby.”
“I look at it as an advanced course in domestic studies. When I was her age we had to carry around a ten-pound sack of flour with a beeper attached to it for two weeks. It’s not nearly as much fun as practicing on a real baby.” Lana put down the Beatrix Potter catalog she’d been perusing and smiled at the young woman standing uncertainly just inside the door. “May I help you?”
“Hi. I was told you have car seats…used car seats. The social worker at Maitland Maternity sent me here. My baby’s due any day and I won’t be able to leave the hospital without one.” The young woman was dressed simply in cotton slacks and an oversize T-shirt that strained across her bulging middle. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and her face looked haggard and too careworn for someone her age. Another of the single mothers-to-be from a nearby women’s shelter who received free prenatal care at Maitland Maternity, Lana guessed. Sent to take advantage of the gently used car seats she collected from customers and friends, and friends of friends.
“Right over here,” she said, leading the way to the corner of the store where she kept several of the seats on display with a sign inviting customers to donate their car seats when they were no longer of use. “Choose the one that will suit you best.”
“I…I don’t have much money,” the young woman said.
“That’s okay. The cost is whatever you can pay.”
“Really?” Her face lit up. “That’s great. I…I was really worried about getting a good one. I only have a few bucks…”
“Whatever you can afford,” Lana repeated gently. “I think you’d like this one.” She picked up a car seat that doubled as a carrier. “This will do wonderfully until the baby’s about six months old.”
The young mother’s face fell again. “But…they told me my baby will need to be in a car seat until—”
“When he outgrows this one, you come back and trade up to a full-size model,” Lana said, giving her best imitation of a used-car salesman. “No extra charge.”
“Great! I’ll take it.”
“Fine, here it is. Janette will show you everything you need to know about fastening your baby in safe and snug.”
“Thank you. This is a load off my mind.” She followed Lana to the counter.
“You really should let me publicize this little program of yours. I could do a lot more for you if you’d let the PR people at the clinic run with it.”
Lana turned to find the regal figure of her godmother, Megan Maitland, standing beside a mahogany reproduction of Prince William’s cradle.
“Aunt Megan.” Her mother’s longtime friend had suggested long ago that the Lord siblings call her that, and Lana still did. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day? I thought you were going to take some time off to spend with Connor and Lacy and little Chase.” Megan had recently been reunited with Connor, the grown son she had been told had died at birth.
“I’m on my way home now, but there’s something I need to talk to you about.” Megan motioned toward the back of the store. “Can we use your office?”
“Brittany’s back there feeding Greg. Remember I told you at the party I was giving baby basics lessons to…my new landlord.”
“That includes keeping his child here in the store?” Megan looked around.
“It does for the time being. As a matter of fact, he’s staying at the house.” Megan looked surprised. Lana pointed to the ceiling. “Lead paint. It’s not safe for the baby. They’re staying in the maid’s room.”
“Do your brothers know this?”
Lana laughed, but it sounded thin and nervous even to her own ears. “Well, no. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them just yet. Or Shelby, for that matter.”
“Certainly, if that’s what you want.”
Lana was surprised Megan didn’t pursue the subject. She seemed distracted, and Lana wondered what she was doing here at this time of day. It must be important.
“Come over here. We can be private enough.”
Lana led the way to an alcove filled with framed prints and quilts and Noah’s ark figures displayed in an antique cupboard. Once they stepped inside they were out of sight of Janette and her customer. “Now, what’s up?”
Megan didn’t return her smile. “I’d like you to come out to the house tonight.”
“You know I never turn down an invitation for dinner with you.”
“This isn’t just a dinner invitation, dear. I received something in the mail yesterday that concerns you. All of you.”
Lana began rearranging the Noah’s ark figures on the piecrust table in front of her. Something in her godmother’s voice set off an internal alarm. She flicked the switch on a music box and watched the little animals move around the ark, two by two, as it played Brahms’s “Lullaby.” Her hands were trembling. Only one person in the world would try to contact all four of them through Megan Maitland. “It’s from our mother, isn’t it?”
“Yes,
