little snowplow.
Jessica stood up and cradled Daisy’s little head against her shoulder. The baby’s prize-winning burp seemed to have worn her out completely. Though her eyes were wideopen, Jessie had the feeling that if she played her cards right, the baby would drop off to sleep in no time. Without another ear-splitting crying jag, she hoped.
She rocked the baby from side to side, mulling over her situation. She knew that sooner or later she had to officially report that she’d found an abandoned baby. And quite conveniently out of the blue, here was a suitable “official” to report it to. Yet, Sheriff Bradshaw had assumed that Daisy was her baby and her heart told her to just let Sheriff Bradshaw continue on with his assumption.
It wasn’t as if she were telling him a lie; she just wasn’t telling him…everything. If she did tell him the truth, it would only set the official wheels in motion and part her and Daisy all the sooner. Daisy sighed, snuggling closer. Jessica brushed her chin against the baby’s unbelievably soft hair.
Couldn’t it all wait until tomorrow? Or even the next day? her heart whispered.
But Jessica hadn’t been raised that way. It was simply impossible for her to be anything less than completely and totally forthright. Although at times like tonight, she wished her nature would let her get away with just a little white lie here and there.
“No husband,” Jessie succinctly informed him, “so I don’t have to worry about anybody worrying.”
“Oh.” He looked down at his shoes for a moment, then back up at her. His expression was unreadable but his gaze was intense, making her lose track of her thoughts for a moment.
“Not only is there no husband, Sheriff, this isn’t even my baby.” Jessie took a breath and held Daisy a little closer in her arms. “I found her. That is, someone came in here a little while ago and left her. Right on the countertop in that laundry basket.”
“Left her? Are you sure?” His thick brows came together in a frown.
Clearly the good sheriff was having a hard time believing that anyone could be so unconscionable as to abandon a helpless little baby.
“Is anyone you know in the habit of misplacing their baby?” Jessie asked him. “Here, look at this. It was attached to the basket.”
Jessica picked up the note from the counter and handed it to him. His head bowed, he quickly read it.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He let his hand drop to his side, still clutching the note. “Have you reported this to anyone yet?”
“Well, I’m reporting it right now, to you, I guess,” Jessie told him.
He looked right into her eyes and for an instant she imagined that he had read every thought running through her head. I know you didn’t really want to tell me about this baby, did you? she could almost hear him saying aloud.
“You’d better tell me the whole story, from the beginning.”
“Well, let’s see.” She took a deep breath, deciding there were some details she’d just as soon edit out. Sobbing over that silly old movie, for one thing. “It was just about midnight, I guess. I was in the storeroom, catching up on some bookkeeping. The TV was on, too. I had just shut it off when I heard the bells on the front door ringing. Then I called out to whoever it was that I’d be right out—”
“There was no one else here?” he asked. Jessie nodded. “You don’t run this place by yourself, do you?”
“I gave everyone time off for the holiday. I—” She caught herself starting to disclose some more personal details. “I decided to keep the place open anyway.”
She didn’t have to tell him everything about herself, did she? Yes, she was alone here because she had given Sophie, Ivy and Charlie the night off. They all had somewhere to go and she didn’t. It was that simple.
Oh, she’d had invitations—more than she could remember refusing—from Sophie, who was making a huge dinner for her three children and eight grandchildren. From Charlie, who was going to his daughter’s home in Maryland. From Ivy, who was going to spend the holidays with her folks who lived just outside of town. And of course, from Aunt Claire, who was on the first leg of a world tour and had tried to persuade Jessie to join her in the Greek Islands. Claire was spending the holidays exploring ancient ruins, then heading off for India.
Jessie always had invitations from the good people who worked for her and all her friends in town. But somehow, this year, she didn’t feel like being part of someone else’s celebration. She didn’t feel like being the designated “favorite aunt,” the close friend of the family who sat just outside the golden family circle, looking on hungrily at other’s people’s happy marriages and growing children. Christmas was a time for family, and Jessie didn’t have one. And this year, she didn’t feel up to the challenge of wearing a happy face while, inside, she felt so keenly the lack of all she was missing.
Now, did Sheriff Bradshaw need to know any of this?
Not on her life, Jessie decided. Daisy, who was resting with her head propped against Jessie’s shoulder, gave a soft sigh. The baby felt relaxed and heavy, Jessie noticed, the milk in her belly taking effect.
“I think she’s about to fall asleep,” Jessie said, rocking slowly side to side.
Clint stared down at her solemnly and seemed suddenly lost in thought. Jessie was willing to wager that he wasn’t thinking about her or even about the baby. No, he was miles away in some very private place, a place that wasn’t a very happy one, either, Jessie would guess, for the expression that flashed across his face was one that Jessie could classify only as total emptiness. Sadness. Loss.
It transformed his strong features for an instant, then just as swiftly, it was gone and he looked at her again, wearing an expression that revealed no emotion at all.
“So you heard the door and came out here,” he said in a low tone, mindful of the baby. “Then what?”
“There was no one here when I came out. I saw the laundry basket on the countertop, and then, after a moment or so, I realized what—or rather, who—was in it.”
“And you didn’t see anyone around, out on the street or getting into a car?”
“No, didn’t see a soul.” Jessie shook her head. “There was just that note.”
Clint’s gaze rested on the baby, who was fidgeting a little as she tried to fall asleep, burrowing her head into Jessie’s shoulder.
“What kind of a mother would leave her little baby like that?” he asked, and the intensity in his blue eyes was frightening, Jessie thought.
“Oh, I don’t know…A young, scared, overwhelmed kind?” Jessie offered.
Maybe it was her Christmas spirit acting up, but Jessie didn’t want to judge whoever had left Daisy and that note too harshly. At the very least, whoever it was had thought to bring her somewhere safe and warm.
Had they known that Jessie would be alone tonight in the café? Had they chosen her specially to find Daisy?
Jessie felt the baby’s head drop against her shoulder and her breath go heavy and slow. “Are her eyes closed?” she whispered.
Clint stooped over to check. “Out like a light.”
He lifted his big hand toward the baby’s cheek, paused, then let his hand drop without actually touching her.
He straightened up and was all business again. “I suppose I’d better take her over to the hospital in Whitewood.”
“She doesn’t seem sick,” Jessie said. “She seems perfectly fine to me.”
“It’s routine procedure in a case like this. She needs to be examined and observed for twenty-four hours.”
“But Whitewood is over an hour’s drive, even in good