able to sort all that out,” Heather pointed out, feeling a need to champion the unknown woman. Delia had been holding the infant, but now Heather reached for her, coveting the comforting feeling of the baby in her arms. “She could have been thinking only of the baby’s safety. We don’t know what circumstances she’s facing. Maybe she’s poor and can’t feed the little darling. Maybe she was being chased by someone. Or she could be in an abusive relationship.”
Heather’s throat tightened around the words and her stomach lurched at the thought. She struggled for a breath as drops of cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
“Any of that could be true,” Slade agreed. “Then again, she could be a hopped-up crackhead who doesn’t even care that she’s dumped her baby into a stranger’s hands.”
“At a church,” Shawn reminded him gravely. “The mother left her child at a church. Surely that tells us something—it suggests the woman was cognizant of her baby’s needs, that she wanted the best for her. She could have abandoned the baby anywhere. I’ve heard horrible stories of babies left in Dumpsters or parking lots. That’s not what happened in this case. The fact that the mother chose to leave the child here—on Christmas Eve, no less—must mean that she was appealing to our Christian duty to step in and help. Right?”
Heather was surprised to receive help from that quarter. Pastor Shawn was sticking up for the absent mother?
“We shouldn’t speculate until we’ve gathered the facts,” Slade conceded. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“I think I’ve found something.” All eyes turned to Brody, who was crouched next to the manger, sifting through the straw. He withdrew his gloved hand to present a small bundle tied with a dirty red strip of cloth, a seam that looked as if it had been ripped from the bottom of a cotton shirt.
“What is it?” Jo asked as they gathered around.
Brody shifted from a crouch to his knees and set the small bundle on the floor in front of him. Gingerly, he worked the knot in the cloth until it loosened.
“There’s a bit of cash here,” Slade said, sifting the contents. “And a crumpled piece of paper. Maybe it’s a note?” He dropped it into an evidence bag.
“Can you use fingerprints from the letter to identify the woman?” Shawn asked, moving closer to Slade.
“It’s a possibility, but not a great one. If the mom has a criminal record—maybe.”
The men appeared to be more interested in the money as Brody rifled through the bills. Heather’s attention was on the scrap of paper within the clear plastic evidence bag Jo plucked away from Slade. Heather, Delia and Jo all hovered over the mysterious missive.
“What does it say?” Heather asked, scooting closer to Jo as the older woman carefully handled the evidence bag. Heather’s breath caught and held when she laid eyes on the delicate handwriting within the letter. The loops and curls were carefully formed and ornamented, so much so that Heather had the distinct, immediate impression of youth.
“I think we may be dealing with a teen mom,” she speculated aloud.
Jo met her gaze, her eyes warm with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. “Unfortunately, I think you might be right, dear. Though for the life of me I still can’t place any woman in Serendipity who looked to be in the family way, most especially a young lady. Teenage girls these days keep themselves so blooming skinny. I feel sure I would have noticed if one of them had been expecting.”
Heather laid a reassuring hand on Jo’s arm. From the tone of the older woman’s voice, Heather could tell Jo was taking a good deal of the responsibility for the abandoned baby upon herself. The townspeople often joked that Jo was the first to know everybody’s business. In this case, she was clearly calling herself to task for not knowing, likely believing that she could have helped the mother if she’d been attentive enough to spot the situation in time. Heather saw no reason for Jo to take any of the blame.
“It may very well be that you don’t know her at all. It seems to me that, given the circumstances, it’s far more likely that the mother wasn’t a local.”
“Serendipity is hardly the kind of place one just passes through, especially a teenage girl on her own. And on Christmas Eve, no less. This town is miles away from anywhere significant.”
“If she is a stranger, somebody here is bound to have seen her. Or maybe there’s a clue in the note.”
Jo nodded and held up the missive, adjusting the range to support the farsightedness that came with age. “Wish I had my reading glasses with me,” she mumbled, then cleared her throat and began reading aloud. “‘Please take care of my baby. She is not safe with me. Her father must never find out I had her. This money is all I have to give.’”
The note was not signed, but there was a hastily scribbled postscript at the bottom of the letter that caught Heather’s attention. “‘P.S. Her name is Noelle.’”
The men approached just in time to hear the baby’s name. Shawn smiled and reached out to brush the palm of his hand over the baby’s silky black hair. “It’s beautiful. A Christmas name for a Christmas baby.”
Heather stiffened. Shawn was close enough that she could smell his spicy aftershave, and though he didn’t actually touch her, she knew his palm fell just short of the small of her back as he leaned over to murmur nonsense syllables to Noelle.
“Any clues as to the mother’s identity or whereabouts in the note?” Brody asked, leaning forward to see for himself.
Jo shook her head and handed the evidence back to the officer. “Nothing definitive. Heather and I are guessing she’s a young mother and not local.”
“It sounds like she is running away from the baby’s father,” Heather added, then hesitated. That wasn’t quite right. She, of all people, knew how difficult it was to break free from an abuser’s hold on her life. “Or maybe she’s staying with him and she’s just trying to protect the baby from him,” she amended hastily.
“In any case, she’s made it perfectly clear that she’s not coming back for little Noelle, at least not at present. I think we can work off the assumption that she’s gone.” Slade frowned, his brow creasing.
Heather was glad that baby Noelle had so many people here concerned about her future, folks who Heather knew would help this child get a running start at life. That was more than many others had.
“There’s roughly thirty-five dollars here, mostly ones,” Slade informed them, holding out the crumpled wad of cash. “It’s not going to get the child very far.”
Heather sniffed as tears burned in her eyes. The sound evidently caught Shawn’s attention, for he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and his compassionate blue eyes flashed to hers. Their gazes locked for a moment and he seemed to be probing her thoughts and measuring her feelings, all without speaking a word. She shuddered and physically jerked from him, refusing to be taken in by whatever kindness he was showing her.
This wasn’t the time to think of herself, or about Shawn. The baby needed all of their attention. “I believe that was all that the mother had to give.”
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