his expression turned strangely serious. Leaning forward, he reached for her closest hand, enfolding it in his.
She swallowed hard, willing her pulse to slow.
“I’m so glad you and the girls are out of the woods,” he said. “I know all of these presents must seem like overkill, but I’m just so damned relieved.”
“Me, too,” Cassie said, licking her lips. “I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Your smile is all the thanks I need.”
“Yes, well…” Suddenly shy, and unsure of the complex emotions that made the back of her throat ache, Cassie gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing him. “That might be good enough for you,” she finally managed to say. “But I’m going to think of something more grand.”
He cleared his throat. “Like naming Noelle for me wasn’t already a pretty grand gesture? They put her name on a card in front of her bassinet.”
“Who said she was named for you?” Cassie teased with a sassy wink.
“Ouch.” Noah clutched his chest. “Talk about zinging an arrow straight through my heart.”
After they’d shared another laugh, he reverently feathered his fingers across her baby’s curls, reminding Cassie of how good that same touch had felt to her yesterday afternoon in the back of his SUV.
Squeezing her eyes briefly shut, she returned to that moment. To the wonder of being cocooned in Noah’s strength. Even though today his comforting hand touched her baby, his kindness still managed to touch her soul.
“So?” he asked. “You come up with a name for this one yet?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm…how about Joelle?”
Nose wrinkled, Cassie said, “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“No rhymes?”
She shrugged. “Rhymes are okay, but I thought keeping the N-theme might be nice.”
“Okay…N, N—Nicky, Nancy, Nathan—”
“Oh, now, Nathan. That’d be real cute embroidered on her ballerina costumes.”
He made a face. “Hey, at least I’m trying. I don’t hear any brilliant ideas coming from you.”
“True.” Drawing in her lower lip, she said, “Nobody told me having babies turns your mind to mush.”
“Give me that kid,” he said, reaching for the baby girl, then holding her close. She looked so tiny in his arms. So safe.
Noah was a big man.
Like Cassie’s father had been.
Growing up, Cassie had worshipped him. When her mother died of cancer before Cass had been barely old enough to talk, her father had meant the world to her. He’d been someone big and strong to protect her from the rough and tumble world. In Tom, she thought she’d found someone much like her own powerful dad. Even in school, her then future husband had possessed a magnetic presence. Just looking at him, she’d known he was destined for greatness. Sure enough, right out of law school, he’d landed a job with a top Little Rock firm. Everyone loved him—his partners, his clients, and his two wives.
One “wife” might still be alive—but Cassie’s love wasn’t. It had long since turned to hate, and even thinking Tom’s name turned her blood cold.
Having been raised by her overprotective Aunt Olivia, Cassie had always thought if only she’d had her mom and dad with her for a little while longer, her life would have turned out differently. Maybe then she wouldn’t have run straight into Tom’s scheming arms.
Trouble was, she had. And looking back on it, for all the wrong reasons. Fear over not being able to make her own way in the world. Reluctance to be alone. Being so eager to start her own family, that she’d never even considered the fact that the man she thought she loved had been a con artist extraordinaire.
All of those reasons combined had since taught her a valuable life lesson. That fairy tales were better left to the experts at Disney. For in real life, when it came to relationships with men, there was no such thing as happily ever after.
Now, relationships with babies on the other hand…
“She sure smells good,” Noah said, nuzzling the baby’s downy soft hair. “How ’bout giving her a flower name? Petunia or Hydrangea?”
Cassie made a face. “Still not quite right.”
He shifted the infant from where she’d rested her tiny head against his chest to cradle her in his arms. Putting the tip of his long index finger to her nose, he said, “You gave me one heck of a scare, young lady.”
“Me, too,” Cassie said, queasy at just the memory of how dicey her second child’s birth had been.
“Now, I look at you,” Noah said to the tiny infant, “and all I see is hope. Hope for a very bright future filled with giggles and sunshine and water balloon fights and puppies and—”
“Hope,” Cassie said. “That’s it.”
“What?”
“Her name. I’ll call her Hope.”
“Wait a minute, don’t I get a say in this? After all, I was the one who ushered her into this world.”
“True. So, if you don’t like that, then what do you suggest?”
“There’s always Joelle.”
“Noah!”
“Don’t get your diaper in a wad,” he said, his wide smile aimed straight for her heart. “I was just razzing you. Hope sounds perfect.”
Perfect… Cassie thought with a secret smile.
Just like my new friend, Noah, who not only gave both of my daughters their lives, but names.
“PSST. ARE YOU AWAKE?”
Cassie cracked open one eye to see a model-perfect, blue-eyed brunette staring at her—a very pregnant perfect brunette. When Cassie opened both eyes, the woman held out her hand for her to shake.
“Oh, good,” she said. “You are awake. I’m Tiffany. Number Three in Noah’s Lonely Hearts Support Group, formed way back in the early nineties. When Noah’s ex-wife, Darla, decided marriage bored her, Noah decided he felt the same. Since then, we’ve grown considerably. The woman we all thought he’d marry, Kelsey, is Number Seventeen. He’s dated casually after her—no one significant enough for a number, but you, my dear, show promise, and as such, we’ve already assigned you Number Eighteen. Since I’m on maternity leave from Olivetti’s—that’s River-dale’s best dress shop if you happen to need anything while you’re in town—I’ve been nominated by the group to welcome you.”
Cassie’s look must have been blank, because unfortunately the woman continued while her crisp, outdoorsy perfume filled the room.
“No need to look shocked,” she said, “like your babies have been bugged or anything. We have inside sources all over town. At the hospital, Noah dated Nurse Helen—she’s Number Eleven amongst his victims.”
“His victims?”
“Yeah, you know, his Victims in Love—or VILs as we affectionately call ’em. Here,” Tiffany said, reaching into a quilted blue toile purse to pull out a gold foil box. “The girls and I bought you a combination Congratulations on Your Babies/Welcome to the Group gift. I know this must seem a bit premature, offering you membership when you and Noah have only just met, but after what happened at Kelsey’s wedding, we figure Noah’s gotta be on the verge of a total meltdown. Now, the women around here are equipped to handle his many bad boy charms, but we figure you being a city girl, may need a few pointers to come out of this on the right side of sanity.”
“Um,