unlike the Reids, McCabes did not shirk their obligations, familial or otherwise. So he was going to have to see this calamity through to its resolution.
Aware what Bridgett Monroe probably wanted him to say, so the way would be clear for her, he paused, then finally said, “No.”
His younger brother Dan looked on approvingly, while sharp disappointment showed on Bridgett’s pretty face.
Mitzy simply waited.
Cullen inhaled deeply, then directed his remarks to everyone in the room. “Someone left the puppy and the baby for me. Like it or not, that makes them my responsibility. At least until their real family is found or permanent arrangements can be made to give them a good home. So I’d like to keep tabs on the child while he’s being fostered. Meet the dog.” Who might have more of a connection to him than anyone except his brother yet knew.
Mitzy turned. “Bridgett? Is this going to be okay with you? Because if you’d rather your first ward be a child who has already been released for adoption, I would completely understand. And so would everyone else at the department.”
For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, Cullen saw Bridgett falter. She turned to glance at the papers that would make her the baby’s temporary foster mother and, for a second, looked so vulnerable he couldn’t help but feel for her. Pushing aside the temptation to take her in his arms and comfort her, he swallowed hard, reminding himself this situation was complicated enough as it was.
Bridgett drew herself up, raised her chin and looked Mitzy straight in the eye. “I can handle this,” she vowed.
Could she? Cullen wondered.
“You really don’t have to walk us to my SUV,” Bridgett said half an hour later, as she got ready to go.
Cullen was clearly skeptical. “You’re saying you could easily manage all this on your own?”
Bridgett looked at the messenger bag she took to work, the diaper bag filled with emergency essentials, and the swaddled infant she was about to pick up. He had a point. It was a lot.
“Okay.” She handed him both bags and her vehicle keys, then gently picked up little Robby.
She’d handled hundreds of newborns in her career. Cuddled and given medical aid and taken care of their emotional needs for as long as they were in the N-ICU.
But this was different. It had been from the first moment she’d gathered the little infant in her arms.
She felt connected to this child, heart and soul.
As if she were already his mother.
“But that’s all the help we need,” Bridgett continued firmly. “Once I get to my apartment and you meet the puppy, to see if that sparks anything, I’ll be able to handle it from there.”
The only problem, she noted ten minutes later as she pulled up in front of her nondescript brick apartment building and saw a furious man pacing outside, was that she still had a few more wrinkles to iron out.
Cullen emerged from his pickup truck. He nodded at the short and stocky man storming their way. “Who’s that?”
Her heart sank as she stepped from the driver’s seat and faced off with the man who had just been peering in her apartment windows. “My landlord, Amos Stone.”
The gray-haired man marched closer. “Miss Monroe! Do you have a dog in your apartment?”
Too late, Bridgett realized she should have found another emergency solution that morning. One that hadn’t involved spiriting a dog who’d had no place in the hospital to yet another place he was absolutely forbidden to be. She fixed the building’s owner with her most winning smile. “I can explain.”
Her landlord did not think so. “Your lease explicitly says no pets of any kind allowed. Ever.”
“I know.” Bridgett reached into the car to gather Robby in her arms. “But—”
“No buts,” the older man huffed. “You’re out of here! Effective immediately.”
Cullen stepped forward. “Surely there’s some middle ground here,” he beseeched cordially, on her behalf.
Amos Stone glared. “Nope. Twenty-four hours to get everything out, or I start formal eviction proceedings. And that mangy mutt goes right this instant. Or I call animal control to take him for you!” He stomped off.
Able to hear the barking from inside her unit, Bridgett handed Robby over to Cullen, then hurried to unlock her front door. What she saw, as the pup barreled toward her and leaped into her arms, was even more dismaying.
Riot had pushed aside the temporary barrier she’d set up between her small galley kitchen and the rest of the unit. He’d wreaked havoc throughout the apartment, knocking pillows off the sofa and upending plants, lamps and a basket of clean laundry. He’d also had several accidents on the wood floor.
Apparently being left alone had stressed the poor little guy out.
But now that the puppy was in her arms again, he was quiet, cuddly and clearly exhausted.
Cullen stood beside her, a drowsy Robby held against his broad chest. He looked around, surveying the damage. “What next?” he said.
Outside the window, she saw her landlord standing next to his car, phone to his ear. She headed outside again, to her vehicle, and Cullen followed. “Mr. Stone is probably on the phone with animal control right now. So we need to get Riot out of here.”
Cullen inclined his head toward the slumbering infant. “Want to switch?”
“Um...let’s not rock the boat just yet.”
Especially since Robby looked as if he were in baby nirvana. She nodded at the safety seat that had been installed in the backseat of her SUV. “If you can settle Robby back in that, I’ll hand off Riot to you and then get the baby strapped in.”
Cullen did as she asked and then took the dog from her. “Where do you want the pup?” he asked.
Good question. To have Riot on the loose while she was driving and Robby was strapped in a car seat did not seem like a good idea.
Cullen understood her indecision. “Why don’t I put him in my truck and drive him wherever you’re going next?”
If only she knew where that was, Bridgett thought, opening the door on the driver’s side to let the pleasant spring breeze circulate through the interior of the car. For the next few minutes, they remained next to her SUV while she scrolled through the hotel listings on her phone and made a few quick calls.
“Any luck?” Cullen asked, after the third.
Disappointed, Bridgett shook her head. “None of the inns in the county allow pets.”
Still holding the puppy against his chest, he used the index
