Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep. Lauri Robinson

sneak into the back filming lot all the time, but as soon as they see a person, they run.” He led her around the corner of the diner building.

      It was even darker back here, and she shivered again, held Grace tighter. There was a cluster of trees between them and Julia’s house, she could make that much out, and she wasn’t looking forward to walking on the little pathway that led through the trees.

      The trail narrowed and she had to either step behind or in front of him.

      He paused.

      She nearly stumbled.

      “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

      She denied the truth. “I’m not scared, I just like being prepared.” That said, she came up with a plan. “We’ll need to run if we see a coyote and I’m not sure of the way.”

      He chuckled. “Do you have any idea how fast a coyote can run?”

      “No. Do you?”

      “Yes. Faster than both of us put together.” He tugged on her arm and started walking again. “You really are a city girl.”

      She hung close to his side, and chose not to reply. She might be a city girl, but also had good reason to be afraid of the dark. Chicago might not have had coyotes, but it had all sorts of things that could attack you late at night.

      In the dark.

      Like this.

      “Don’t fret, we’re almost there.”

      She forced her feet to keep moving as they grew closer and closer to the cluster of trees.

      * * *

      Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He might never have seen someone as scared as she was right now. Someone who’d never heard the sound before could be scared by a coyote’s howl. There was an eeriness to it like no other. But it was also easy to get used to. He remembered falling to sleep to the sound. It had been a long way between towns while his parents had been acting in playhouses across the center of the nation. During good years, they’d traveled by trains. Not so good years, it had been a wagon and horse. Once it had been a mule, one that had been too stubborn to move most of the time.

      He and Joe had spent hours pulling that stupid critter forward, and had slept a lot of nights beneath that wagon. Remembering listening to coyotes was a good memory. That meant it hadn’t been raining or snowing. There had been nights he’d probably have frozen to death if Joe hadn’t snuggled up against him. Kept him warm.

      A walk down memory lane wasn’t what he needed right now.

      “So,” he started, looking for something else to focus on. “You lived in Chicago your entire life, but don’t have any family there?”

      “No. None.”

      He nodded, but didn’t say anything because concern tickled his spine. He should be able to see lights on at Julia’s house. It was just on the other side of the grove of trees.

      Side by side, they stepped through the trees, and he surveyed the house. The dark house. “Julia must have already gone to bed.”

      “Is it that late?” Her voice quivered slightly.

      “No, actually, her car is gone,” he answered, nodding toward where it was usually parked. “She must have had somewhere to go tonight.”

      “Maybe someone borrowed her car,” she said hopefully.

      “Let’s go see,” he said, stepping forward.

      A few minutes later, Jack wasn’t sure if he was happy or not. No one answered the door and the place was locked tight. He couldn’t leave them here, not without Julia home, and Grace was getting fussy. Hungry. Wet. Both maybe. He didn’t know.

      He had offered to take them to his apartment, and would, if necessary, but he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.

      Grace let out a solid wail.

      Helen talked softly to the baby, but her fussiness continued. Not an all-out cry like before, but it sounded like that’s what she was working up to.

      Good idea or not, he didn’t have a choice. “Let’s go.”

      “Go where?”

      “To my apartment.”

      “But—”

      “Julia’s not home, and Grace is hungry, or wet or something.” He took hold of Helen’s elbow again and turned her back toward the trail that led through the grove of trees. “I’ll give you a ride back here in the morning.”

      This time she was too busy dealing with Grace to worry about coyotes. He led her all the way to his car in the studio’s parking lot, and held the door open while she climbed in, trying her best to hush the fussy baby.

      “It’s not far,” he said, dropping the bag in the backseat before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

      The three miles to the apartment went quickly, in some ways. To Grace, it appeared, it was way too long. She was crying in earnest by the time he parked the car.

      “She’ll quiet down as soon as she’s fed,” Helen said, as if apologizing.

      Like before, the sound of Gracie’s sobs did something to his heart. Though his niece would never remember this night, she was far too young, he could remember being hungry. It was a miserable feeling.

      “This way,” he said, grabbing the bag out of the backseat as soon as Helen had climbed out. “Through that door and up the stairs.”

      There was a total of sixteen apartments in the building. His was on the second of four floors. Solidly built of bricks, the walls were thick so he wasn’t overly concerned that Grace’s crying would disturb anyone. If it did, too bad.

      Helen talked quietly to the baby, telling her everything would be all right very soon, as they hurried to the building and up the stairs. He unlocked the door and let them in, then hit the light switch, kicked the door shut and set the bag on the table near the door so he could open it all at the same time.

      He found the bottle, milk and can opener. Unsure what to do, he set them on the little table. “Here, I’ll take her. The kitchen is straight ahead. You get the bottle ready.”

      “Thank you,” Helen said. “I’ll hurry. I’ve rarely heard her cry like this.”

      The moment he took Grace and placed her up against his chest, she stopped crying. Her little body shook slightly from the remnants of her sobs, but as her eyes met his, her little petal-shaped lips formed a smile.