The Sheriff and the Baby (8 page)

“She lives up off Blue Spruce Drive,” Hank blurted before Matt could even flip it open.

Matt smiled to himself. Hank was a coward at heart. “Where?”

“I own a cabin up there.”

“And?”

“I rented it to her for six months. She promised me ten thousand dollars at the end of it, as long as I don’t tell no one about her.” His face clouded. “Guess I just kissed that goodbye.”

“Guess you did. Is she there now?”

He shrugged. “I took her there from the bus station. I thought she was up to somethin’ when she didn’t want me getting her from in front of the hospital.” Hank’s voice held pride at his perspicacity.

“And you didn’t think to tell me that? You of all people must’ve known we were looking for her!”

Hank shrugged again. “Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money, Matt.” Then in an attempt to moderate his guilt in failing to report Beth’s whereabouts, he said, “I
tried
to talk to you about her the other day, when you asked me to get estimates on fixin’ her car.”

And Matt had cut him off, believing Hank was about to engage in more gossip! If only he’d listened then, he’d have known everything he needed to know about Beth. “I’ll deal with the serious matter of your having obstructed justice later,” he said. “But, for now, where
exactly
is this cabin?”

T
WO MINUTES LATER
, Matt was driving toward the mountains on the other side of town and headed up to Blue
Spruce Drive, perched overlooking the town at eleven thousand feet.

The snow was coming down so heavily now, the plows were having trouble keeping up with it. Conditions could turn dangerous by tonight.

Beth wouldn’t be happy to see him, but that was just too bad. He had questions that needed answers. And the first question was,
Why did you name me as Sarah’s father?

He picked his way up the snow-covered mountain road, unable to comprehend how Beth had managed to drive down it that snowy Saturday night without going over a cliff.

He was having enough difficulty negotiating it in his all-wheel-drive SUV. There’d been power outages all over the county due to the storm, and by the looks of it, Blue Spruce Drive was still without power. Smoke billowed from chimneys of the houses set on the acreage lots he passed, indicating residents were relying on their stoves or fireplaces for heat.

He pulled in at the red-painted timber gate Hank had told him to watch for. A log cabin that looked like something out of a Christmas story sat almost surrounded by pine trees. The only thing missing was the smoke coming out of the chimney. And lights at the windows.

Fresh snow carpeted the ground, undisturbed by vehicle tracks or footprints. Nobody’d survive a day like today without a roaring fire in the grate.

Apparently she wasn’t here and he had no idea where he should start searching for her now. Sure as hell, if she was still in the county, Beth would’ve taken pains to cover her tracks even better than before. Because now she’d know he was looking for her.

Deciding to see if she’d left any clues inside the cabin,
he climbed out of his vehicle, knocked at the front door and, when he didn’t get any reply, tried the knob.

It turned and he stepped inside.

The cabin was icy cold and dark. Matt brushed the snow from his shoulders and stomped it off his boots before walking into the living room. He flicked the light switches. They were dead. The fire had burned out long ago.

Then he heard the cry of an infant. Heart hammering, he raced toward the sound and burst through a door into a bedroom. Sarah lay by her mother’s side, her little arms waving frantically, her cries of distress filling the room.

He strode to the bed, picked her up and cradled her inside his jacket, next to the warmth of his body. Her face felt cold through his shirt, but she quieted as she snuggled against him.

Beth lay motionless, her face pale in the snow-clouded light coming through the window.

He sat on the bed and shook her arm. “Beth!” She didn’t move. He felt for her pulse. Unable to detect anything but his own racing heart, he placed his hand gently over her mouth and nose. Warm breath covered his chilled palm and her forehead was damp with perspiration. The room was like an icebox, yet she was sweating. That could mean only one thing—she had a fever.

“Beth!” he called and shook her again, ignoring the rising pitch of Sarah’s crying. “Beth. Wake up!”

Sarah’s crying grew louder. He made soothing noises to her and she turned her head toward his chest, rooting around as if she wanted to suckle.

He shook Beth again with his free hand. Finally her eyelids fluttered. “Wha…?” she murmured but didn’t open her eyes.

Her cell phone was lying open on the bedside table as if
she’d tried to make a call. He checked it and realized the battery was dead.

Matt contemplated bundling both of them up and getting them to the hospital, but the roads were treacherous and he didn’t have any way of securing Sarah in his vehicle.

Pulling out his own cell, he punched in Lucy’s number. She answered right away.

“Lucy, it’s Matt.”

“What’s the matter? And what’s all that crying?”

“I’ve found Beth,” he said, jiggling Sarah in an attempt to quiet her since she’d given up on sucking on his shirt. “But she’s in a bad way. She’s sweating a lot and nearly unconscious and Sarah’s starving.” He wasn’t in any mood to make apologies for how dramatic his explanation sounded. This was one of the few occasions in his life when he was close to panic.

“Are her breasts tender and hot to the touch?” she asked.

“How the hell should I know?” he snapped. His nerves were completely frazzled. “She’s pretty much out of it.”

“You could feel them.”

“I am
not
feeling her breasts!” he yelled above Sarah’s plaintive crying. Desperate to calm her, he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder and did as he’d seen Becky do with her daughter, Lily. He stuck the tip of his little finger between Sarah’s lips and was nearly knocked sideways by the power of the suction from her tiny mouth.

Beth finally seemed to have the strength to open her eyes.

“Ah, are your breasts tender?” he asked.

She gave a faint nod.

He swallowed. He wasn’t going to ask if they were hot.
Nor do as Lucy suggested. “Yeah, I guess they are,” he said into the phone.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure I know what her problem is. Can you get her into the hospital as soon as possible?”

Matt strived to keep the exasperation from his voice. “Lucy, I’m in a cabin up on Blue Spruce Drive. I don’t have any way of restraining Sarah in my vehicle and Beth’s in no condition to hold her.”

“I’ll come to you, then, but first I’ll need to collect a few things. How do I find you?”

He barked out directions, yelling above Sarah’s strident cries since she’d relinquished his finger.

“Gotcha. I’ll see you soon,” she said and broke the connection.

Matt wondered how long it would take Lucy to collect what she needed and get to the cabin. Sarah seemed fine, apart from needing to be fed but he was worried sick about Beth.

“Let’s go find something to make your mom more comfortable,” he murmured to the baby.

In the adjoining bathroom, he wet a washcloth, squeezed it out, then went back to Beth and placed it on her forehead. “Sarah?” she whispered hoarsely.

“She’s fine. Just hungry,” he assured her. “Lucy’s coming. Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” she murmured. “So thirsty.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, taking Sarah into the kitchen with him. A pacifier sat on the counter. He had no way of knowing if it was sterile, but then neither was his finger. He rinsed it under the tap and stuck it in Sarah’s mouth. She quieted immediately. As she suckled furiously, he filled a glass with water and returned to Beth’s side.

When he placed Sarah on the bed, she began to protest and her pacifier fell out. He stuck it back in her mouth, then
slid an arm behind Beth and helped her sit up. “Here,” he said. “Can you manage?”

She gulped the water greedily. “Slowly,” he warned. “Take it slowly and I’ll get you some more.”

He refilled the glass and held it for her. She finished it and lay back on the pillows. “Thank you,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

Matt tried to tell himself she looked a little better as he pulled the covers up to her chin and picked Sarah up again. “Let’s get some heat into this place,” he said to the squirming baby and carried her into the living room.

Five minutes later he had a roaring fire going in the grate and the cabin was starting to feel warmer. He lit candles to brighten it up, then lit the wood-burning stove in the kitchen, figuring it was probably connected to the hot-water supply as a backup. Since the baseboard radiators were stone-cold, the power must’ve been off for a good while.

After washing his hands, he picked up Sarah, who was screaming again, having realized the pacifier didn’t contain any nourishment. A search of the kitchen for any evidence of bottles of formula proved fruitless, and she continued to complain about her empty stomach.

“Hurry up, Lucy,” he urged, patting Sarah’s back. He glanced out the kitchen window into the gathering darkness, willing Lucy’s car to turn into the drive, then went back to check on Beth. She was perspiring even more. He freshened the cloth and wiped it across her brow and along her cheeks.

“Burning up,” she protested and pushed the bedclothes down. “Cool me down. Please,” she begged.

When he placed Sarah on the bed, she wailed at being separated from him.

Matt wiped the cloth down Beth’s arm from shoulder
to wrist while Sarah screamed and his nerves stretched to the breaking point. The shock of finding Beth in this state and feeling helpless to do anything for her, plus the racket Sarah was making, were getting to him. He forced a calm he was far from feeling into his voice. “She’s really hungry. Shouldn’t you try and feed her?”

“Too sore,” Beth mumbled, breathing a sigh that sounded to him like pleasure. He drew the cloth down her other arm. “Here,” she said and indicated her throat and chest. “So hot.”

Matt swallowed. Her gown was gaping open, revealing the swell of her breast, but he did as she asked, wiping the cloth down both sides of her throat. He closed his eyes as his hand ventured near the open flap of her nightgown.

The sound of a car door slamming had him abandoning the facecloth, lifting Sarah into his arms and striding to the front door.

As Matt stood back to let Lucy through the door, she reached into an insulated bag.

“Where’s the patient?” she asked, handing over a small bottle of baby formula already prepared. “It’s at the right temperature,” she told him and Matt stuck the bottle in Sarah’s mouth as he led the way to Beth’s room. The baby’s wailing halted as she suckled greedily.

“You sure are burning up, honey,” Lucy said, feeling Beth’s forehead. She turned her attention to Matt. “What have you given her to eat or drink?” she asked as she set up her blood-pressure machine and fastened the cuff around Beth’s upper arm.

“Two glasses of water.”

Lucy nodded and pumped up the cuff, reached into the insulated bag again and pulled out a cabbage. “This needs to go in the fridge.”

Matt stared at the cabbage.

“Just put it in the fridge, Matt,” she said. She fitted the stethoscope earpieces into her ears, then turned back to Beth.

“Come on, Sarah,” he muttered, curious as hell about the cabbage. “We’d better go do what Lucy says. Otherwise, there’s no telling what she’ll pull out of that bag next.”

He put the cabbage into the fridge, then headed into the living room to inspect the fire. Sarah finished her bottle.

“You’re a greedy little piggy,” he cooed.

Sarah fixed him with her wide blue gaze, released the nipple and beamed at him. Matt’s heart melted, even though he knew it was probably wind that had made her smile. He lifted her for a kiss and to brush his nose against her soft cheek. “You’re gonna be a beauty, just like your mama,” he said. He held her over his shoulder and began to rub her back. “No spitting up,” he warned and went looking for her nursery.

L
UCY FOUND HIM
in the kitchen, warming a can of soup.

“How is she?”

“She’ll be fine, Matt, thanks to you.” Lucy reached up and rubbed his shoulder. “But she has mastitis.”

Matt resisted the urge to clear his ears. “I thought only cows got that.”

“Typical male!” Lucy said with a grin. “Nursing mothers can suffer from it, too.”

The tension in his shoulders eased a little. “What can I do for her?”

“You are one sweet man, Matt O’Malley. How long can you stay here?”

He shrugged. “As long as necessary.”

Lucy nodded. “Good, because she’s in no condition to look after herself or the baby.”

“She’s
that
sick?”

Lucy nodded and opened the fridge. “For the moment. But I’ve given her a shot of antibiotic. She’ll be pretty sick for the next twenty-four hours, then you should notice a significant improvement.” She withdrew the cabbage and peeled off two leaves. “However, she’ll still be weak and need lots of bed rest. I’ll come back tomorrow. If there isn’t any sign of improvement by then, she’ll have to go to the hospital.”

“Can she eat?”

“Sure. A normal diet with plenty of fluids.” She pointed to the soup and said, “That’s a good start.”

She dug around in her bag, unpacking items. “Now, this is a breast pump. I’ve told Beth how to use it, but you’ll need to sterilize it before the first use and then every time after that.” She withdrew more things. “These are the instructions on how to sterilize it. I’ve encouraged Beth to use it instead of relying on formula.”

Matt tried not to think of Beth using this strange contraption in the privacy of her bedroom.

Lucy handed him several empty bottles. “You’ll need to sterilize these, as well. Beth can store her milk in them and they get reheated like the ones I’ve put in the fridge with formula. Don’t use the milk in your coffee if you run out of cow’s milk,” she ended with a smile.

“Hardly!” And then he had to know. “Ah, why?”