The Baby Bond (6 page)

Cassidy’s chin rose a notch. She could feel the red blotches creeping up her neck. She hoped Grandmother didn’t take them as a sign of weakness. She was anxious, not weak.

“I promised to take care of Alex if anything should ever happen to them.” With the stress and confusion of the past few days, she’d forgotten the conversation and the piece of computer-printed paper until this moment.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Eleanor waved at the air in dismissal. “No one would hold you to some silly, sentimental promise.”

“I would. I believe God would, too. Janna and I knew from experience that the worst could happen. She loved Alex so much, she wanted to be certain he would never—” She stopped before she could say too much. Her grandmother had tried. Hurting her now had no value. “We even put her wishes in writing with the nurses as witnesses. I have the paper in my safe-deposit box, if anyone wants to see it.”

The day after Alexander Bradley Brown was born, Brad and Janna had handed her a document asking her to act as legal guardian if anything should ever happen to them. She’d wanted to laugh it off, but she and Janna knew that life didn’t always play fair.

“We think it’s a wonderful solution, Cassidy,” Beverly Brown said, coming close enough to stroke Alex’s hair. Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “This is what we’ve prayed for,
though we didn’t want to pressure you. You’re young and healthy, and you love this baby.”

“You’ll always be his grandparents,” she said, aching for Beverly’s loss. “He’ll need you in his life.”

“Thank you, honey,” Beverly whispered. “We want that very much.”

Without a word, she slid Alex into his grandmother’s arms and watched her cradle the infant tenderly. Tears shimmied loose and slid silently down the woman’s ruddy cheeks.

Grandmother Bassett, however, was determined to have her way. “You’re running on emotion, Cassidy Luanne. This can’t last. Then later, you will be sorry you made such a drastic mistake.”

With a sharp pang, Cassidy realized Grandmother spoke from experience. She considered taking Janna and Cassidy into her home a “drastic mistake.” That final, cruel comment gave Cassidy the last bit of courage she needed.

“Loving Alex could never,
ever
be a mistake.”

Regardless of her single status, regardless of the demanding career, regardless of her goal to be a premiere graphic designer, and though she knew nothing at all about raising a baby, Cassidy Willis would find a way to give her sister’s son the loving home he deserved.

N
ic tossed down the remote, skirted the semicircle of recliners pointed at a television set and headed into the kitchen area of Station One to dish up the lasagna. Four tough, manly firefighters followed like puppies. Tonight was his night to cook at the fire station, and thanks to his mother’s recipes, Nic’s cooking was favored by the other men.

“Not as good as your mama’s,” Captain Summers teased, his mustached mouth so full his words were mush. “Passable.”

Above high cheekbones, Sam Ridge’s brown eyes glittered with amusement, but he said nothing. Such was Sam’s way. If he strung twenty words together during a twenty-four-hour shift, everyone sat up and listened. Nic always figured he and Ridge got on so well because Nic liked to talk and Sam liked to listen. Pretty sweet deal.

The Kiowa took an extra slice of buttered garlic bread, lifted it toward Nic in appreciation and returned to his chair to eat and watch reruns of
MASH
. If they were lucky, no calls would come in before they’d finished their meal.

During Nic’s rookie year, Mama had appeared at the fire station to supervise the kitchen on his night to cook. Now that Nic had the recipes down, Mama still came around on oc
casion with pastries or breads from the family bakery. The other men lived for the times Rosalie Carano swept into the station to see “her boys,” as she called all of them.

Lately Nic wished Mama wouldn’t come around so often. Though he laughed at the good-natured teasing, the mama’s boy comments were growing thin.

Nic dished up a healthy dose of steaming, cheesy casserole, his belly whimpering in anticipation. Other than a few medical calls, a couple of motor vehicle accidents and a grass fire, today’s shift had been slow, both a blessing and a pain. Nic liked to be busy. Taking care of the station, the engines and the equipment was part of the job as was ongoing training, but he liked the adrenaline rush of a callout.

From the corner of his eye, Nic caught movement at the outside door. A luscious brunette, long hair blowing in the fierce Oklahoma wind, swept into the station. Behind her came a short, perky redhead.

Ah, well,
he thought with a grin,
there are other types of adrenaline rushes.

“Mandy! Rachel!” Nic said. “What’s going on?”

One of the cool perks of being a firefighter was that citizens could drop by any time. Even gorgeous girl citizens who only came in to flirt.

He could deal with that.

Rachel, the leggy brunette, swept her hair back with one hand. “Came by to see you, what else?”

From the circle of recliners came the usual hum of interest. Sam and the other firefighter, “Slim Jim” Wagner, momentarily lost interest in Nic’s lasagna.

Mandy, the perky redhead, opened a tiny purse and extracted a brochure. “We’re getting up a group to go to the beach. Are you game?”

Trips to anywhere entertaining were right up his alley.
After a long, windy and cold winter, some fun in the sun sounded pretty sweet. “When?”

“This weekend.” She waved a photo of blue water lapping at sunny, white-sand beaches. “Three days at a friend’s condo right on the beach in Galveston.”

This weekend. He’d planned to drop by and check on Cassidy and Alex this weekend. Not that Cassidy was all that hot to see him. Fact of the business, he’d called her a couple of times since she’d made the decision to become Alex’s permanent guardian, but she never answered the phone.

Weird.

He hoped she didn’t have caller ID. The implications of that would be ego-crushing.

She’d sent cards to him, his parents and siblings expressing gratitude for their help. Nic would have preferred a phone call. One of those gushy-breathed, “Oh, Nicky, thank you so much for being there for me and baby Alex.” But what did he get? A formal card with all the warmth of January.

He must be losing his edge.

He thought she liked him okay, but he also felt a kind of pushing away, as though she was too polite to say so, but she didn’t want him around.

A terrific, fun-loving guy like him, he thought with humor. What wasn’t to like?

Rachel’s voice intruded on his aberrant thoughts. “So are you going with us, Nic?”

What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. A trip somewhere.
“If I’m not on duty.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Nic, it’s this weekend. Remember? I have your schedule. I know when your four-days are. None of us want to go without you.”

Ah, sweet. His ego was feeling better by the minute. Why was he letting a cool blonde and a toothless baby mess with his head?

Nic clapped his hands together. “Sounds good. You make the plans. I’ll make the party.”

Both girls laughed. Rachel tossed her hair over one shoulder. Nice hair. Nice girls. Fun times.

“You ladies up for a plate of my lasagna?”

Rachel touched her flat belly. “Can’t. We’re dieting. Swimsuit time.”

“Don’t know what you’re missing.” Slim Jim lifted his nearly empty plate above his recliner.

“Yes, we do,” Mandy simpered. “Nic is a fabo cook.”

“He’ll make someone a great wife one of these days,” Captain Summers added, his tone droll. “Did he tell you ladies about his new baby?”

Both women froze. Nic wished he’d had his camera phone ready to catch their shocked expressions.

“Get lost, Captain,” he said mildly, and then to the girls. “He’s kidding.”

Yet, the mention of baby Alex started that strange yearning inside of him all over again.

Cassidy was a zombie.

“How’s that design coming, Willis?” The art director of McMann’s Marketing, Shane Tomlinson, was a go-getter, a type A personality who wanted everything done yesterday. On a normal day, Cassidy was right there with him.

But there was nothing normal about this week or the one that had preceded it.

“Fine,” she muttered and reached for her coffee cup, hoping to appear cool and in control.

“Good. We need it ASAP.” He tapped the top of her desk and wandered off to hassle another designer. Thank goodness.

For the past ten minutes, Cassidy had sat at her station staring mindlessly at the same rotating graphic. How was she
supposed to create a new Web site for the Sports Emporium when all she could think about was sleep and Alex?

After four days and four of the longest nights of her life, she and her nephew had yet to establish a workable routine.

Workable? What a laugh. They had no routine at all. Alex cried and refused to sleep from dark to dawn. Cassidy rocked and sang and prayed and wondered if she’d lost her mind to think she could raise a child and keep her high-pressure career in fourth gear.

To make matters worse, after taking a week off, she was far behind. And today was the first day Alex had attended day care.

She glanced at the clock on her computer, then reached for her cell phone. She had the number on speed dial.

“Bo-peep Daycare,” a chipper voice answered.

“This is Cassidy Willis. I’m calling to check on Alex Brown.”

There was a slight pause. “Miss Willis, didn’t you call about fifteen minutes ago?”

A lot could happen in fifteen minutes. “Is he all right?”

“He’s asleep.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Babies generally nap for a couple of hours at a time.”

Not at her place, he didn’t. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

“Positive.”

“Will you check? I mean, right now. Go stand over his crib and look at him. Make sure he’s breathing.”

The day-care worker emitted a taxed sigh. “Stop worrying, ma’am. We take excellent care of our children.”

That’s what they all said. Yet, she’d seen the news reports, the horrors of day-care abuse. Bad things happened in some of them. How was she to know if Bo-peep was a good one or a bad one? Yes, she’d checked references, toured the facility, talked to other moms, but still…

“Please. Put the phone up to Alex’s ear so he can hear my voice.”

She didn’t want him to feel abandoned.

“He’s asleep. You don’t want me to wake him, do you?”

“No, of course not.” Yet she wondered at the woman’s reticence. Was she hiding something? “Are you sure he’s all right?”

Again that pause, only this time when the woman spoke, she was defensive. “Miss Willis, Alex is doing fine, but if you are that concerned, I suggest you come to the facility and have a look for yourself.”

With a stammered thank-you, Cassidy snapped her flip phone shut and stared into space, deep in thought. After a couple of minutes, she dragged her purse out of the bottom drawer and jumped up. On her way out she passed Shane Tomlinson’s office. She called, “Something important came up. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Before her surprised boss could ask about the new Web design or remind her that she was days behind in work, she rushed out the door and down the elevator.

At ten o’clock that night Cassidy sprawled on her couch eating a convenience-store burrito while Alex gurgled happily on his play mat. Classical music, Beethoven’s
Für Elise,
tinkled from the music box as colored lights responded to Alex’s movements.

She felt like a hammered banana while Alex was rested and ready to rock and roll.

He looked up at her and smiled.

That quick her spirits lifted. Stuffing the last bite of burrito into her mouth she slid onto the floor beside him. No matter how exhausted, frustrated or lacking in confidence she might be, one smile from that face and she was mush. Sometimes she stared into his precious, innocent
eyes and saw her sister. With every look, every splashing bath, every time he caught her finger in his little fist, Cassidy fell more in love. Terrified, inadequate, but in sappy, sloppy love.

No wonder her sister had been so happy. But how had she juggled taking care of Alex with working on the B and B? How did she manage to appear fresh and rested when, at times, she must have been as frantic and exhausted as Cassidy?

The answers would forever remain a mystery. Perhaps birth mothers received some influx of hormone that kept them going.

A hormone Cassidy lacked.

Lying on her belly, she talked to Alex, played with him and then tried once more to get him down for the night.

Her head ached from lack of sleep. The tension in her shoulders was tight enough to snap. Her eyes burned.

She gathered a wide-awake Alex close to her chest and rocked him in the bentwood rocker.

“Come on, lamb, help Aunt Cassidy out. I’m so tired. I have to work tomorrow, you know. If I don’t work, I won’t be able to buy those cans of formula you’re so wild about.”

She rubbed his rounded belly with the flat of her hand. He seemed to like when she did that.

Her fingernails, she noticed, were looking rough, but when would she have the time or energy to go to the nail spa? Her roots needed to be touched up, too. Hopefully, in another week Alex would be on schedule.

“Ready for sleepy-pie?” It sounded like a dumb thing to say, but lately Cassidy found herself saying all kinds of gibberish. What exactly
was
sleepy-pie?

With a shake of her head, Cassidy laughed at her giddy thoughts. At the same time Alex swung his hand, catching hold of her hair. Cassidy’s head was yanked sideways. Tears smarted at the corners of her eyes. With painful care, she
managed to peel back each tiny finger until she was free again. Alex laughed up at her.

“Come on, buddy. Please. Go to sleep. I’m going to lay you down in your crib like a big boy and turn on your favorite lullaby.” She did so, simultaneously activating the video monitor over his bed.