if this is a ploy to get your attention, Dr. Garner, I assure you, it’s not mine.”
Thad looked into Michelle’s face. He rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. “Why would anyone leave an infant with me?”
Michelle motioned at the piece of white paper wedged between the side of the baby bed and the mattress in the bottom of it. “Perhaps that envelope will tell you.”
Thad knelt down to get it. His name was scrawled across the front, all right.
He tore into it and read.
Dear Thad,
Brice and Beatrix may have changed their minds about becoming parents—I haven’t. It’s up to your brother, Russell, to decide what to do about William, since William is his kid.
I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but again, it’s not my problem. I did what I signed on to do. And that’s all I’m going to do.
Sincerely,
Candace
P.S. I hope you have better luck tracking down Russell than I did.
“What the…?” Thad muttered, scanning the letter once again.
Still trying to make sense of what it said, he held it out so Michelle could read it, too. “Who are Brice and Beatrix?” she asked with a frown.
Aware the baby looked blissfully happy snuggled against his neighbor’s soft breasts, Thad said, “No clue.”
Michelle pulled the blanket closer around the baby’s tiny body. “Candace?”
Thad shrugged and studied the wisp of dark, curling hair escaping from beneath the crocheted blue-and-white knit cap. The baby’s clothes looked expensive. “Also no idea.”
“But Russell…?”
“Is most definitely my brother and my only living relation,” Thad replied, taking in the baby’s cherubic features and fair skin. Was that his imagination or did William have the Garner nose? And Garner eyebrows? And chin?
He knew his older brother prided himself on his vagabond lifestyle, but could Russell really have turned his back on his own son? Or did he not know about him? Had the mother of this obviously unwanted child decided Russell was a bad bet as a father and put their baby up for adoption without consulting Russell? Only to have the adoptive parents back out at the last moment?
Michelle stared down at the baby as if he were the most adorable infant ever to grace the earth. Thad knew how she felt—the kid was certainly cute enough to grace a baby-food ad.
Michelle looked up at Thad. “Do you think your brother even knows he’s a father?”
Thad exhaled. “Hard to say.”
Irritably he scooped up the diaper bag, infant car seat and Moses basket and set them in his foyer. “Please come in,” he said gruffly.
Michelle did so, albeit hesitantly, warily.
Not that she had ever been particularly friendly with him, Thad thought.
Since moving to Summit some three months earlier to take over the law practice of a retiring local barrister, she’d barely had the time of day for him. He wasn’t sure why she was so aloof, at least where he was concerned. He’d never been anything but cordial to the attractive attorney.
Of course they hadn’t encountered each other all that often. She worked from nine to six Monday through Friday. His shifts were generally twelve hours and varied according to the demands of the Summit, Texas, emergency room.
Nevertheless, he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes off the willowy strawberry blonde.
Michelle Anderson carried herself with the self-confident grace of an accomplished career woman. On workdays she could usually be seen in sophisticated business suits and heels. On weekends and evenings, she was much more casual.
This morning, she was wearing a pair of navy running shorts that made the most of her long, shapely legs, a hot-pink-and-navy T-shirt that paid similar homage to her breasts. Her running shoes and socks were white. Her hair was caught up in a ponytail on the back of her head, and the few escaped tendrils were attractively mussed. Her peaches-and-cream complexion had a healthy glow, while her emerald-green eyes held the skepticism of a woman who had seen and heard way too much in the course of her profession.
But then, Thad thought, walking over to snag a navy-blue T-shirt off the back of the sofa and pull it on, so had he…
“Well?” Michelle asked, bouncing slightly to comfort the now squirming newborn, as Thad slid on a pair of moccasins and came back to stand beside her. “Does that letter make any sense at all to you?” she demanded.
Thad watched the baby root around as if looking for a nipple. “Unfortunately, yes,” he admitted reluctantly, not proud of this part of his family heritage. Spying a baby bottle in the pocket of the infant seat, he plucked it out and unscrewed the lid.
The formula smelled fresh. He screwed the top back on and handed it to her. “My brother is as reckless and shortsighted as they come.”
“Meaning?” Michelle offered the bottle to William and smiled when he latched on immediately.
Thad frowned. “It’s possible Russell’s gotten himself in a mess and left me to clean up.” And that was all Thad was prepared to say until he had talked to his only sibling.
AT THAD’S INVITATION, Michelle sat down on the sofa and gave William his bottle while Thad went off to make some phone calls.
When he returned some thirty minutes later, he was dressed as if for work, his broad shoulders and impossibly masculine chest covered by a starched green shirt and tie, his trim waist, hips and long, sinewy legs draped in khaki dress slacks. His custom-made leather boots were buffed to a soft sheen.
He smelled…so good. Like the forest after a drenching spring rain. And he looked great, too—his square jaw newly shaven, his golden-brown eyes alert with interest. “I left messages for Russell everywhere,” he reported grimly.
Trying not to notice how the early-morning sunlight streaming in through the windows glimmered in his short, sandy-brown hair, Michelle shifted William to her shoulder to burp him. Up close, she couldn’t help but notice—once again—how ruggedly handsome Thad was. No wonder all the women in town were wild about him. When she tore her gaze from his chiseled jaw and sensual lips, it was only to meet the warm intimacy of his amber eyes.
Finally she found her voice. “Any idea how long it will take for your brother to get back to you?” she asked, surprised at how casual and unaffected she sounded.
Thad looked unhappy. “No telling.” He clipped a pager and cell phone to his belt, searched around for his keys. “Russell could be in any time zone. He’s a photojournalist for a wire news service, always off on assignment somewhere, but he checks his messages every day, unless he’s in a war zone. Then, of course, it can be harder to get in touch with him.”
Michelle was rubbing William’s back gently. “What are you going to do?”
Thad
