Violet knew that Poppy and her best friend, the currently deployed Lieutenant Trace Caulder, were trying to adopt—without getting married.
“The mother’s wishes were clear. She wanted her baby to have a mother and a father who are in a committed relationship, if possible.” She continued walking around with her older sister, showing her the space. “So Gavin and I talked it over and decided it would be best if Ava went to a married couple with an established family unit.”
Poppy stopped to measure a length of windowless wall. “Which would put me and Trace out of the running, since the good lieutenant isn’t due back in the United States for a visit for another ten months or so.” She sighed wistfully.
Violet held one end of the tape measure for her. “Ava needs new parents as soon as possible. Luckily, Mitzy is expediting the process. So it all should happen fairly quickly.”
“It’s a good thing that, unlike me, you don’t fall completely in love with every infant you see.”
Violet bit her lip. Truth was, the pang of longing she’d felt deep inside when she’d gotten her first glimpse of little Ava had caught her completely off guard. And she hadn’t even held her in her arms yet!
But, for obvious reasons, she wasn’t about to admit that to her sister.
Poppy jotted down a final set of numbers. She looked back up, a fleeting sadness in her eyes as the two of them strolled toward the door. “Anyway, back to your current storage problem... I’ll pull a solution together for you and then let you know what we’re going to need.”
“Thanks, Poppy.” Violet gave her big sister a hug and watched as she drove off. She signed off on the delivery of the Dumpster, talked to the construction foreman, then headed into town, the completed questionnaires in tow.
Mitzy was out on a home visit, so she left the paperwork at her office, then went on to the hospital. Carlson Willoughby was undergoing the first of several days of testing. Since the results weren’t yet in, she went up to the nursery to check on their charge and caught her breath at what she saw.
Gavin, sitting beside the incubator, a blanket-wrapped baby Ava cuddled gently in his arms. The tiny infant had a pink cap on her head, a nasal cannula still assisting her breathing, monitors that measured her heartbeat and breathing visible beneath the soft white blanket that surrounded her.
Her eyes were shut and she appeared to be sleeping.
Violet could hardly blame her.
To be held against that strong, warm chest, cradled so tenderly by those brawny arms...
Violet grabbed a sterile gown, put it on over her clothes and slipped into the small, dimly lit visiting room behind the glass window.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Gavin looked up at her. “The nurses wanted me to hold her for a little bit.”
She ambled closer. “I can see that.”
The tenderness in his expression made him all the more handsome. “I have to admit, I never really understood why the parents of premature infants were so loath to leave the nursery and head home to rest.”
She nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. “But you get it now.”
He shot her a knowing grin. “You should give it a try.”
“I don’t want to interrupt...”
He stood and gestured toward the comfortable recliner-rocker he’d been sitting in.
Unable to summon a reason why she shouldn’t start fulfilling her duties as temporary guardian, too, Violet took his place in the seat that still held his warmth. And the enticing soap-and-man scent of his skin.
Gently, he transferred Ava to her arms.
The preemie was incredibly light and fragile, at just a little more than four pounds. As Violet looked down at Ava, a wave of tenderness unlike anything she had ever felt swept through her.
Gavin pulled another chair up to sit beside Violet. Together, they watched the sleeping baby. Neither speaking. Barely moving. Yet united just the same.
Who knew how long they would have stayed that way had Bridgette, the nurse on duty, not come in to reluctantly interrupt. “It’s time to put Ava back in the warmer. But if you’d like to come back later this evening to help us try to get her started on drinking formula from a bottle, that would be great.”
Gavin and Violet exchanged looks. “I’ll be here,” Violet said.
To her surprise Gavin said gruffly, “So will I.”
Bridgette nodded, accepting the news with the same equanimity she accepted the infant. Bridgette looked at her big brother. “Would you mind hanging around for a moment? I really need to talk to you about Nicholas. And, Violet, if you’ve got a moment, I’d like your opinion, too.”
* * *
AS SOON AS Ava was settled, Bridgette told her coworkers she was taking her break.
The three of them headed for the staff lounge, which was blissfully empty. Although not sure what she might have to contribute in what seemed to be a Monroe family matter, Violet was glad to be of assistance in any way that she could.
Violet and Gavin both got coffee, while Bridgette grabbed a bottle of water. “Nicholas rented a car and went back to Austin this morning,” she said.
“That’s good,” Gavin said.
Bridgette took a seat on the sofa. Violet settled opposite her, and Gavin sank down beside her, close enough she was aware of his steady male presence but not close enough to be touching.
His sister looked worried. “I’m not so sure. He hasn’t been the same since the accident.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed. “Medically?”
“Emotionally,” Bridgette corrected. “Swerving to avoid running over that deer changed him. He said he saw his life flash before his eyes. And he didn’t like what he saw. So far, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin chided.
“I don’t know. But I have this uneasy sense that he’s planning something.” Bridgette turned to Violet. “You have a lot of experience with young adult patients coming close to the brink, then recovering and trying to resume a normal life. Does that seem like a common reaction to you?”
Reluctantly, Violet admitted, “If something’s brewing in a person, yes, it usually erupts under the stress.” As it had with Sterling.
Gavin turned to her, his shoulder nudging hers in the process. “What should we do?”
What I didn’t, Violet thought before she answered.
“Listen to whatever your brother has to say. And take Nicholas seriously—even if it seems like he’s coming out of left field.”
Gavin
