Linda Goodnight - The Baby Bond

“Where do you go from here?” Nic asked gently. “I mean, who’s going to care for the little dude?”

The “little dude” had finished off his bottle. As if handling a baby was second nature, Nic set the bottle on the floor, lifted Alex to his shoulder and patted his back. Alex made gurgling, satisfied noises, oblivious to the drastic change in his life.

“I don’t know what we’ll do.” She didn’t want to think about the future. She could barely deal with the here and now. “Brad had no siblings and there was only Janna and me in our family.” She thought about Brad’s parents. They might be willing to raise Alex.

“My sister’s a social worker. She might be able to help.”

The idea of a social worker frightened Cassidy.

“No,” she said a little too sharply. “No social services.”

She trembled to think of her nephew growing up lonely and unloved the way she and Janna had. Alex deserved a loving home and family, not a parade of foster homes. She would choose. She would make the decision. Somehow.

“Forget I brought it up. Today is way too soon to think about that.”

“I never dreamed this would happen to Janna,” she murmured.

“No one ever expects a tragedy of this magnitude. Not even us firefighters. These things happen to other people. Not to us. Or so we think.”

Almost to herself, Cassidy said, “I don’t understand why God would let this happen.”

Again, she thought. Twice in her life she’d lost those closest to her. It wasn’t fair. She’d always considered God to be a good and loving God, the Father she’d lost as a child. Now she was left floundering to understand. Had she failed in some way? Was she being punished?

“You got me there,” Nic said. He tapped Alex on the nose and waited for the toothless smile before settling him on his lap to face Cassidy. Alex made a goo-goo sound, waving his arms in poignant happiness as he recognized her. “My mom would say all things work to the good for those who love God, but I have to admit I don’t get the whole God thing.”

Cassidy, too, was having a hard time believing that anything good could come from the death of two young, caring, godly people and the orphaning of their son.

“So you aren’t a believer?”

His smile was crooked. “Oh, yeah, I believe.”

Cassidy heard the unspoken “but” at the end of his proclamation, though she didn’t understand it.

From her missionary parents, she’d learned to love, revere and serve God all the days of her life. Regardless of her questions, God was the only answer. He was her anchor, her only hope. Though she couldn’t begin to understand, she had to believe God was with her. The alternative was hopelessness. How could anyone face an uncertain future without His strength and courage to sustain them?

She was about to ask Nic that very question, when he crinkled his nose. “Uh-oh. Change time.” Averting his head, he pushed the baby in her direction. “Uncle Nic does not do diapers.”

His lighthearted comment was a welcome diversion. She smiled in spite of herself.

“Firemen are supposed to be brave.”

He made a face. “Brave is relative. Give me a nasty, dirty fire any day, but not a nasty, dirty diaper.”

A nasty, dirty fire. Nic’s words brought back the pain, as sharp and plunging as an ice pick. She wished he would go away. He was a walking, talking reminder of death.

She’d had enough of death to last a lifetime.

Holding Alex, she abruptly stood, turning her back on the gear-clad firefighter. “Thanks for all you’ve done, Nic. I’ll take it from here.”

Her words were a stiff dismissal he couldn’t possibly miss this time.

A moment of silence stretched behind her. She didn’t turn around. If she did, she would apologize, and he would stay longer. He had to go and take his ghoulish job with him.

“If you need anything—”

Why did he have to be nice? “I won’t. Bye, Nic.”

She was giving him the brush-off?

Nic shifted on his feet, his boots heavy, his body weary. He wanted to be ticked, but he tamped down the reaction. Cassidy Willis was living a nightmare he couldn’t begin to comprehend. She looked so shattered that for a minute or two there, he’d been tempted to take her in his arms and comfort her. With most women, he would have done exactly that, but the classy-looking blonde exuded a cool aloofness that kept him at bay. For some reason, she wanted him to leave, but he couldn’t do that, either. Not yet anyway.

Normally, he didn’t get involved with fire victims, but last night the baby boy had gotten to him in a big way. As he’d waited in the emergency room, the child had clung to him, calm only as long as Nic was present and touching him. The little dude seemed to intuitively understand that his parents were gone and that Nic had saved his life.

Then when the aunt had stumbled into the room, the soft heart that sometimes got Nic into trouble had done a weird flip-flop, like a banked bass. Compassion, he supposed, but he was intrigued, too, though he had to admit, all women intrigued him. Ladies were a gift from God. Might as well enjoy them. But Cassidy Willis was different from his usual lady friends. Perhaps not in looks—she did have those—but in demeanor.

He’d known she was the aunt right away. She resembled the woman in the Scooby Doo pajamas he’d carried out of the burning house. Only where Alex’s mother had been dark-blond, Cassidy’s hair was sleek platinum, the kind that required considerable maintenance. Pampered sorority girl hair that went perfectly with her fancy acrylic nails.

She also had the kind of blue eyes men dream about, as vivid as his mama’s pansies. At the moment they were filled with anguish.

She must have been heading out for a jog when the news arrived because she wore a running outfit. From the looks of her slim form and pro athletic shoes, Cassidy Willis was a serious runner.

Too bad she couldn’t run away from the situation. Her world had turned upside down and she was coping pretty well, he thought. Well enough to want him to leave.

He was kind of offended at that. Most women wanted him to hang around. This one wanted him to leave.

In any other situation, he’d consider that a challenge.

Maybe he did anyway.

Her back still turned as if he wasn’t in the room, Cassidy reached beneath the crib, found a box of baby wipes and a clean diaper. He should go. He needed to go. Hanging out in hospitals with orphaned babies and bereaved women wasn’t his idea of a party.

Still, he felt this obligation to do something for her and the little dude.

Cassidy’s polished beauty was right up his alley, but her looks were the farthest thing from his mind. He wasn’t after a date. He had a couple of those already. He was after—Nic didn’t know for sure what he was after.

For reasons he could not explain, he couldn’t walk away and forget this pair. He should. He wanted to. But something irrevocable had happened last night and he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do something for them. Besides, his big, pushy family would have his head if he didn’t look after a damsel in distress.

Maybe that was the problem. Family expectations, as usual, were his undoing.

“Hang on,” he said, though she clearly wasn’t leaving and had effectively shut him out. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogged out of the room, only to reappear in seconds bearing a pen and notepad. The nice nurse at the desk had been all smiles and obliging. He grinned and patted his chest with the flat of one hand. Must be the uniform.

He scribbled on the sheet, ripped off the page and handed it to Cassidy.

“Here you go,” he said. “That’s my cell and my house. Call if I can do anything.”