face. He’d studied her résumé and read through the positive letters of reference from labs and stables alike. She exuded strength of character as well as physical confidence. Whatever had brought her to his door, he counted himself extremely lucky.
She bumped her nose to the baby’s and then did something with the last clean blanket that calmed Baby John instantly. When she lifted him to the crook of her arm he was wholly content.
“He looks like a baby burrito,” Fox observed wryly.
She put the baby into his arms. “Swaddling is the technical term,” she said, her voice as light and soft as a cloud. “But baby burrito works.” She cleaned up everything and went to wash her hands. “Be right back.”
He stared down into the baby’s blue eyes. Was this one of his brother’s children?
“I tossed in a load of his laundry so we have clean clothing for tomorrow,” she said when she returned. “Want me to take him?”
Yes. No. Fox held on for the moment, more relaxed now that he had some help. He’d never known how soothing and right it felt to hold a happy infant. He didn’t remember days like this with Sloane’s daughter. His niece was like a hummingbird, always on the move or chattering. Often at a volume that made his ears cringe. “I looked up swaddling online. They make it look easy in the videos.”
The baby yawned and scrunched up his mouth. Fox panicked, standing up and striding to Kelsey. “What does he need?”
“Probably this.” Kelsey popped the pacifier into the little guy’s mouth.
“Probably you,” Fox said, handing the baby back into the arms of the expert.
He stared at her, openly in awe of her skills with the baby. She made child care look more like child’s play. “How do you know what to do and when?”
He peered over her shoulder into the infant’s drowsy eyes. Baby John yawned again and then worked the pacifier.
“Years of practice,” she said, rubbing the baby’s back while she held him close.
“You don’t look old enough to be Mary Poppins.”
According to her résumé, she’d had two jobs as a nanny during her undergraduate years and occasional stints of child care between internships while she finished her master’s degree.
“Brilliant and funny,” she mused. “Good qualities in a boss.”
He hadn’t really been joking. According to her bio, she’d just turned thirty. Maybe dealing with babies had more to do with some innate female intuition than women wanted to admit. He wasn’t about to say that out loud and have her walk out on him.
“I wish I knew how to find his family.” He walked over and stared out the big windows that overlooked the nearby paddock. He could just make out the lights in the bunkhouse beyond the barn. “Someone has to be missing him.”
“That doesn’t mean someone wants him back,” Kelsey murmured.
“I guess you’re right.” He hadn’t thought of it that way. Should have. Hell, he hadn’t had much time to think at all since taking the baby in. “I assumed the mother dropped him here, though I don’t have any reason for that assumption other than the way he arrived.” And now he had Deputy Bloom’s concern in his head, as well. What if Baby John’s mother was a victim of the Avalanche Killer?
“How was he dropped off?” Kelsey asked.
“He was bundled up in a car seat. The diaper bag was stocked. He was clean.” The baby had smelled like his niece just out of the tub. He hadn’t made that connection until just now.
“So the basics of food, clothing and safety were met?”
“Yes. My first thought was that the baby was supposed to be dropped off at Wyatt’s place.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my brother. Deliveries frequently get messed up between his address and mine.” He laughed. “And because his wife just delivered a baby boy. The day before this little guy showed up.”
Kelsey smiled. “Logical.”
He grinned down at her. They both knew it wasn’t the least bit logical.
“He’s out,” she whispered. “I’ll go put him to bed.”
“He’ll cry,” Fox warned. Last night his heart had broken a little more every time the baby fussed. Although he’d napped quietly for a couple of hours while they’d eaten dinner and discussed horses. He and Kelsey had similar philosophies about breeding, and she was as familiar with his primary goal to breed a healthier quarter horse for ranchers as he was.
“We’ll figure it out,” she promised.
Her confidence balanced his lack thereof. She headed down the hall and he went to the kitchen for a beer. When she came back, only silence behind her, he shook his head.
“Miracle worker.”
“I’m not,” she insisted. “You just have a tired, content baby.”
“Want a beer?”
“No thanks.” She walked around him and poured herself a glass of water instead. “Did you notify the authorities when he showed up?”
He was pleased she was already so at home in his house. “Yes.” It helped to have someone to talk with, even if she was mostly a stranger. Except she felt like a friend after the time he’d spent reviewing her résumé. “I went straight to the sheriff’s office. Fortunately or not, depending on your viewpoint, no one in the area has reported a missing baby.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t take him off your hands.”
“They tried.” Goose bumps rose on his arms and he rode out the chill that followed. “Sheriff Colton—he’s a cousin—told me they’d call in child services to take care of him. But it felt wrong.” He couldn’t meet her gaze, unwilling to bare his soul completely. “Someone left him here, on the Crooked C. Everyone knows this is Colton property. I couldn’t turn around and hand him over to strangers.”
“I’m not judging you,” she said so low he thought he’d imagined it. “I expect the sheriff was confident you could handle it.”
Fox laughed. “Feel free to call and tell him the truth.”
Her smile radiated equal parts amusement and acceptance. He hadn’t seen that kind of look aimed his way since he was a kid.
“It’s not considered news anymore, but my sister and I were adopted by Russ and Mara Colton when my parents died. Mara was my mom’s older sister. She and Russ took us in rather than let us go into foster care.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. The change must have been a relief as well as a challenge.”
“Exactly both. They kept us with family and raised us as if we were theirs from the start.” There were inevitable differences between his parents and Mara and Russ, but he’d always felt
