head and neck—that much he remembered from christenings. With this little one, it wasn’t hard to do. The infant was so tiny it almost fit into one of his large palms.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he murmured gently to the whimpering infant. He rocked on the heels of his boots. “It’s okay, little one. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
He frowned. That wasn’t exactly right. Not that the baby could understand his words, but he was hardly in a position to make a promise like that. There wasn’t one single thing about this situation that was okay.
Where was the mother now? How had she gotten into the church and back out again without anyone noticing her? Had she disappeared for good, or was she lingering around somewhere to make sure her baby was well cared for? Had she picked this chapel for a reason, out of all the places she could have taken the child?
And maybe the most pressing question of all—what was he supposed to do with an abandoned baby on Christmas Eve?
If he wasn’t mistaken, there were safe-haven laws in Texas to deal with the issue of child abandonment, but Shawn didn’t know the exact details. Would a church even be considered an acceptable drop-off point in such a situation? Perhaps allowances could be made, since the nearest hospital was over an hour away? And speaking of hospitals, he should call Delia Bowden, the town doctor, who would no doubt want to check the baby’s health. Also, he would need to call the police immediately, to report what could potentially be considered a crime.
He forced a breath through his lungs. He had people who’d help him through this. That was a good thing. But the question remained—whom should he call first? No matter how he tried to reason around it, he couldn’t get over the fact that whatever motivations had compelled the woman to commit such an act, the distressed mother had chosen to leave her precious baby here, in this church, and not at the police station or firehouse as she might have done.
A myriad of emotions pressed upon him and he struggled to work them out, to untie the knots in his chest. There had to be a reason the baby was here. God didn’t make mistakes, and though it seemed incomprehensible to Shawn, it was abundantly clear to him that he was meant to find this child.
But why?
Threading his fingers through his hair, he murmured a frantic prayer for guidance under his breath. What would the Lord have him do?
Jo Spencer. Owner of Cup O’ Jo Café and second mother to half the town, she had a word of advice to give for any situation under the sun. She’d been a good listening ear and friendly adviser to him in the past.
It was a decision, at least, and a good one, at that. He sighed in relief.
Jo would know what to do in his hour of need. She was the resident expert on everything—and everyone. Shawn was reluctant to wake her at this time of night, but he knew she would want to be part of this. At the very least, she’d help him think through his options, and she’d definitely know who else to call in as reinforcements. She quite literally knew everyone in town. She might even have an idea who the mother was. If there were any women outside the church’s parish who might be pregnant and close to delivery, Jo would know about them.
Shawn’s heart ached for the woman who was desperate enough to leave her infant at a church on Christmas Eve. She must be feeling such a deep sense of anguish. No doubt her circumstances, whatever they were, had been dire.
He shifted and wrinkled his nose as an odd, pungent odor assaulted him.
“Yes, little person,” he said, addressing the baby. “We need to call in the cavalry.”
Along with everything else, Jo Spencer would know how to change a diaper.
He curled the infant into one arm and fished for his cell phone in the pocket of his black slacks. Fortunately, Jo was an active member of the faith community, and her number was on speed dial.
After several rings, a gravelly, sleep-muted male voice answered.
“This’d better be good.” Jo’s husband, Frank, was gruff on the best of occasions, and Shawn highly doubted that being dragged from a dead sleep even remotely qualified for that category.
“So sorry to wake you, Frank, but I’ve got a bit of an emergency here. This is Pastor Shawn, by the way.”
“Yeah, I figured. When Jo’s new-fangled cell phone rang, your picture came up on the screen.”
One corner of Shawn’s mouth rose. He heard a crackle and a thump on the other end of the line.
“Emergency, you said?” Jo didn’t even sound sleepy, though he knew he’d wakened her from the same state that had Frank so grumpy. “What can I do for you, Pastor?”
Shawn released the breath he’d been holding, relief rippling through his muscles as he continued to jiggle his arm to keep the gurgling infant happy.
“I have a baby,” he blurted.
“Oh. I...” It was unusual for Jo to stammer. He’d clearly caught her off guard, and no wonder. “Are congratulations in order?”
“What?” Of all the things he expected Jo to say, that wasn’t it. “No. I mean— It’s not my baby.”
Jo let out a big guffaw. Shawn wondered how anyone could sound so gleeful in the middle of the night.
“Well, young man, you’ll pardon me for sayin’ I’m relieved to hear it. Not that you wouldn’t make a wonderful father, mind.”
“Thank you for that,” he responded, chuckling under his breath. “But I do have a problem. That baby I mentioned—I have it right here. At the church. I think someone abandoned it.” He hated calling the baby an it, but he thought calling Jo was more expedient than taking the time to check to see if it was a boy or a girl.
“Oh, my stars,” Jo exclaimed. “An abandoned baby? Well, why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
Shawn grimaced and the baby startled, wagging his or her little arms in the air and breaking into a weak wail.
“I hear the dear little sweetheart. Is it a boy or a girl?”
Shawn shifted the wiggling bundle to his shoulder and bounced softly on his toes. “I don’t know. I haven’t checked yet. I called you first.”
“And that was exactly the right thing for you to do, my dear. I’ll be over faster than you can say Jack Washington. We’ll figure it out together, you and I. I do believe I’ll also get on the horn with Heather Lewis and see if she can come out and help us.”
“Heather Lewis?”
“She’s a local foster parent. I imagine she’ll be able to give us some perspective on the situation.”
With an inaudible sigh, Shawn crooked the phone against his shoulder so he could pat the infant on the back. Jo had no idea how very much he needed to hear that help was on its way. What he knew about babies was quite literally limited to the christenings he performed. He didn’t have any children of his own, nor did he have nieces or nephews. He’d never actually had to care for a baby before, especially not in the plethora of ways he imagined this little one would need.
Apprehension
