and he was reluctant to put her down in the car seat in the corner. He also wanted to know what had happened to bring Diane Finch to the point of taking care of her cousin’s baby indefinitely when she was obviously so unprepared for the task.
She was a beautiful woman, all right. He couldn’t help but notice the way that satiny blouse caressed her breasts when she moved and her jacket fell open. Nice shape, adorable face and what appeared to be natural blond hair. Attractive like a flower to a bee. Not the time to be thinking such things, boyo, he told himself.
But now he was also seriously intrigued. “So, how did you come to be a foster mother?”
Her face closed a bit. “My cousin is seriously ill. She can’t care for Daphne and probably won’t be able to for a long time. That left me or putting her in the foster care system. Maybe for adoption, although my cousin...” She broke off. “Anyway, it’s me and Daphne for as long as she needs me.”
That raised more questions than it answered, but he let it go. She didn’t know him from Adam, and this was very personal ground. There were few secrets in Conard County because most people knew each other, but Diane was new and she was probably going to face a lot of prying. He well remembered how he’d been questioned. A new face always drew attention. He didn’t need to add to it.
But he had to admit to feeling some admiration for a woman who’d foster her cousin’s baby while starting a new job. Not many would want the combination, he was certain. And Diane, by all appearances, was very new to this baby thing. He wondered if she’d find it presumptuous if he offered to help. Probably. Talk about sticking his nose in the tent.
* * *
Bemused, Diane watched the tall, muscular man holding tiny Daphne on his shoulder with such ease and calm. Daphne had come to her care only four days ago, when she’d been almost packed and ready to hit the road. Her cousin MaryJo, with whom she’d never been very close, had been committed indefinitely to a mental hospital with paranoid schizophrenia. Diane had been too busy the last couple of weeks to do more than to peek in on MaryJo and her new baby, and hear how sick she had become. The three-month-old Daphne had barely entered her consciousness until the social worker had told her that Daphne would have to go into long-term foster care because MaryJo couldn’t possibly be a safe caretaker.
The instant she heard the words foster care, Daphne had loomed large on her radar, far larger than her poor cousin. Diane simply could not let that darling baby go to strangers, and the social worker also pointed out that MaryJo was too mentally ill to legally put the child up for adoption.
Adoption?
There wasn’t even a father to turn to. Whoever he’d been, he was apparently long gone.
Adoption? No.
The last days had turned into a whirlwind of packing, signing papers, gaining permission to take the child to her new job, getting baby supplies and a travel bed—oh, yeah, and a car seat—then Daphne had been delivered into her care.
Diane had never doubted that this was right thing to do, but it had all landed on her like a train wreck, and she was still figuring out how to handle everything. Most especially how to care for the baby. She didn’t have siblings, and she’d never watched anyone else’s kids because she’d been too busy with an after-school job at a local law office. What did she know about kids?
Only that she couldn’t let Daphne wind up in the foster care system. And part of her problem, as she’d discovered since she’d arrived in town two days ago, was that she didn’t want to leave the baby in anyone else’s hands, either. Most day care around here was in-home. The one early-learning center didn’t have an opening. Her reluctance to trust someone else with the baby’s care was likely to become a big issue.
So here she was, her first day on the job, with a baby. Yeah, she expected trouble, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t have begun to explain why she cared so much about a baby she’d only had for a few days, or why she was feeling so reluctant to put her in a stranger’s care while she worked.
Yet a stranger had just diapered Daphne with practiced ease and was now pacing slowly with the sleeping girl on his shoulder. Daphne was still tiny at three months, but Blaine Harrigan made her look minuscule.
He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved khaki work shirt and jeans. The last place she had worked, a polo shirt and slacks was as informal as it got. Apparently things were different here. He certainly looked like a man ready to work hard, a sharp contrast to the way he handled Daphne: easily, gently, yet confidently. She envied that confidence. She wished she could siphon off a gallon of it and put it in her veins.
Well, she’d get there eventually. She’d learned everything else she’d needed to in life. Usually. God, she hoped she wasn’t kidding herself and running headlong into a big failure.
“Are you looking forward to this job?” he asked her.
For the first time, she realized that his voice seemed to resonate from deep within his chest, below baritone but maybe not quite bass? An interesting, slightly rough sound. “I think so, yes. I know I was before life got out of hand.”
He smiled faintly. “This little one, you mean? Ah, she won’t be any trouble now. I was wondering, you worked in a larger city before. Why come to a small town?”
“The challenge,” she said. “An outdated comprehensive plan that needs to be rewritten, and that covers an entire county. I’ll have a lot of input. I’ve always wanted that.”
He hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but then resumed his gentle pacing, rubbing Daphne’s back all the while. “Did you visit first?”
“Of course. I came out for the interview. I’m surprised I didn’t meet you then.” And she was. They’d have to work closely together. She began to wonder how this place functioned.
“I was on vacation. I didn’t hear a thing about you until I got back.”
Okay, that was strange, she thought. Given his position, he should have had some say in her hiring. For the first time, she felt uneasiness about the job itself. Was there something going on here? But she couldn’t ask Harrigan, because he worked here, too. Until she had a read on everyone involved, asking questions could be dangerous. Wisdom dictated that she keep everything on a professional level.
Although that was already a limit she had broken, considering her infant cousin was riding on the shoulder of the county engineer. Very professional. Under other circumstances, she might have been amused. Starting a new job, not so much.
Then, for the first time, she really saw his face. Looked at it and took it in, and felt her stomach flutter. Dark, nearly black hair with blue eyes so bright the color was arresting. The rest of that face was great, too, squarish, a good chin, with fair, unblemished skin. His last name suggested he was Irish, as did a few hints in his pronunciation. He couldn’t have left the isle very long ago, she thought. Western sun and wind hadn’t kissed him for long.
Fortunately, Daphne made a small sound, drawing Diane’s attention before she stared at Blaine too long. Somebody should have warned her that a man holding an infant was more irresistible than one standing solo. She never would have dreamed. She watched as he pulled a visitor’s chair back from her desk and slowly lowered himself into it. The chair was springy, and he rocked gently.
Then she felt embarrassed. “Would you like me to take her back?”
He
