“Since I’m only temporary, it’s up to you how right she is.”
His smile was slow with an ornery tilt and then it was gone. “Will it be a problem sharing a room with the baby?”
“Not at all.” The baby would be a more congenial roommate than her last two had been. The guest room was a vast improvement over the cramped lab tech housing in the dorm she’d left behind. Sharing a bathroom with only one adult? This might be the best corporate housing ever.
“Thanks, Kelsey. I really appreciate this.” When they were back in the main room, he said, “Did you need to cancel a hotel reservation?”
“Oh, I hadn’t found a motel.” She laced her fingers together to keep her hands still.
“Perfect.” He started for the door. “I’ll help you bring in your things.”
“Wait. My stuff is still in my car, which broke down. That’s why I was late,” she reminded him.
He glanced to the front door, though he couldn’t see the driveway from here. “Oh. I assumed...”
“The car is a few miles east of town. I grabbed a ride part of the way and walked the rest.”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You walked?”
“The rideshare app didn’t have anyone available,” she said, waving off his concern. “The car is safely on the shoulder. It’s too dark to head out there now. It can wait until tomorrow.”
“All right.” He checked the windows and released a breath. “I guess we’d better find food for the two of us.”
Her stomach growled, and his grin flashed again. It was amazing to feel both safe and valued. To be employed twice over. Though she’d learned to protect herself through the years, living under Fox’s roof gave her an extra layer of security she appreciated right now.
Hours later, after they’d demolished a couple of burgers and a salad, Fox watched as Kelsey sat on the floor in front of his fireplace. She changed the baby into a clean diaper and pajamas at light speed. It didn’t seem to impede her progress when the baby kicked his legs or tried to roll one way or another.
Her sleek, strawberry-blond hair was still locked into a bun at the back of her head and he wondered how long it was when it was loose. She was a petite thing, with big hazel eyes in a pixie’s face. He’d studied her résumé and read through the positive letters of reference from labs and stables alike. She exuded strength of character as well as physical confidence. Whatever had brought her to his door, he counted himself extremely lucky.
She bumped her nose to the baby’s and then did something with the last clean blanket that calmed Baby John instantly. When she lifted him to the crook of her arm he was wholly content.
“He looks like a baby burrito,” Fox observed wryly.
She put the baby into his arms. “Swaddling is the technical term,” she said, her voice as light and soft as a cloud. “But baby burrito works.” She cleaned up everything and went to wash her hands. “Be right back.”
He stared down into the baby’s blue eyes. Was this one of his brother’s children?
“I tossed in a load of his laundry so we have clean clothing for tomorrow,” she said when she returned. “Want me to take him?”
Yes. No. Fox held on for the moment, more relaxed now that he had some help. He’d never known how soothing and right it felt to hold a happy infant. He didn’t remember days like this with Sloane’s daughter. His niece was like a hummingbird, always on the move or chattering. Often at a volume that made his ears cringe. “I looked up swaddling online. They make it look easy in the videos.”
The baby yawned and scrunched up his mouth. Fox panicked, standing up and striding to Kelsey. “What does he need?”
“Probably this.” Kelsey popped the pacifier into the little guy’s mouth.
“Probably you,” Fox said, handing the baby back into the arms of the expert.
He stared at her, openly in awe of her skills with the baby. She made child care look more like child’s play. “How do you know what to do and when?”
He peered over her shoulder into the infant’s drowsy eyes. Baby John yawned again and then worked the pacifier.
“Years of practice,” she said, rubbing the baby’s back while she held him close.
“You don’t look old enough to be Mary Poppins.”
According to her résumé, she’d had two jobs as a nanny during her undergraduate years and occasional stints of child care between internships while she finished her master’s degree.
“Brilliant and funny,” she mused. “Good qualities in a boss.”
He hadn’t really been joking. According to her bio, she’d just turned thirty. Maybe dealing with babies had more to do with some innate female intuition than women wanted to admit. He wasn’t about to say that out loud and have her walk out on him.
“I wish I knew how to find his family.” He walked over and stared out the big windows that overlooked the nearby paddock. He could just make out the lights in the bunkhouse beyond the barn. “Someone has to be missing him.”
“That doesn’t mean someone wants him back,” Kelsey murmured.
“I guess you’re right.” He hadn’t thought of it that way. Should have. Hell, he hadn’t had much time to think at all since taking the baby in. “I assumed the mother dropped him here, though I don’t have any reason for that assumption other than the way he arrived.” And now he had Deputy Bloom’s concern in his head, as well. What if Baby John’s mother was a victim of the Avalanche Killer?
“How was he dropped off?” Kelsey asked.
“He was bundled up in a car seat. The diaper bag was stocked. He was clean.” The baby had smelled like his niece just out of the tub. He hadn’t made that connection until just now.
“So the basics of food, clothing and safety were met?”
“Yes. My first thought was that the baby was supposed to be dropped off at Wyatt’s place.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my brother. Deliveries frequently get messed up between his address and mine.” He laughed. “And because his wife just delivered a baby boy. The day before this little guy showed up.”
Kelsey smiled. “Logical.”
He grinned down at her. They both knew it wasn’t the least bit logical.
“He’s out,” she whispered. “I’ll go put him to bed.”
“He’ll cry,” Fox warned. Last night his heart had broken a little more every time the baby fussed. Although he’d napped quietly for a couple of hours while they’d eaten dinner and discussed horses. He and Kelsey had similar philosophies about breeding, and she was as familiar with his primary goal to breed a healthier quarter horse for ranchers as he was.
“We’ll figure it out,” she promised.
Her confidence balanced his lack thereof. She headed down the hall and he went to the kitchen for a beer. When she came back, only silence behind her, he shook his head.
“Miracle worker.”
“I’m not,” she insisted. “You just have a tired, content baby.”
“Want a beer?”
“No thanks.” She walked around him and poured herself a glass of water instead. “Did you notify the authorities