don’t believe it.”
“How is that possible?” Sam said.
Darcy shook her head. “We’re short-staffed, which means we can only take on so many babies in the nursery. They’ve already got the maximum allowed number there now.”
“So what are our options for tonight?” Annabel said.
Ridge stared down at the baby, his expression calculating. “I’ll take her.”
“What?” The word erupted from Darcy, Sam and Annabel at the same time.
“You can’t be serious,” Sam said.
“You don’t know the first thing about babies,” Annabel protested.
Ridge looked from one sibling to the other, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Like you said earlier Sam, how hard can it be?”
Both Sam and Annabel turned to face Darcy, their expressions pleading with her to make their brother see reason. “Can you explain this to him?” Sam said.
“Uh, well,” she began, feeling suddenly pressured. “Babies are pretty demanding,” she started. “They need to be fed every couple of hours, which means you won’t get much sleep.”
“Sleep is overrated,” Ridge replied.
“You don’t have any supplies,” Annabel put in. “Formula, diapers, a place for her to sleep. You have none of the things babies need.”
“Be reasonable,” Sam added. “You’re way out of your depth here.”
“I can’t leave her,” Ridge said simply. The words took all the air out of his siblings and they both leaned back on their heels, staring at Ridge as if they’d never seen him before.
“I know it doesn’t make much sense,” Ridge went on. “But this baby is my responsibility now. I’m going to take care of her until we find her mother.”
Annabel turned to Sam. “Is this even legal?”
He pressed his lips together, considering. “I’m not sure. But given the circumstances, I don’t know that we have another choice.”
“So it’s decided then,” Ridge said, sounding determined. “I’ll take her home with me tonight. We can regroup in the morning.”
Sam and Annabel exchanged a glance, and Annabel shrugged slightly as if to say “There’s nothing we can do.”
“If you’re sure,” Sam said slowly.
“I am.” Ridge’s voice was firm, making it clear he would brook no further arguments.
“All right,” Sam said. He turned to Annabel. “I suppose we should get back to the station and get that note to forensics. We’ve got some work to do tonight.”
“Yeah. I think we should bring in Chris, as well—he can start looking for home births.”
Sam nodded. “I want Trevor involved, too. He has access to all the evidence the FBI has on our killer. He can go through the letters and hopefully find some clue that will help us identify the mother.”
Annabel walked over and gave Ridge a quick hug. “Good luck tonight,” she said, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thanks,” he said softly.
Sam clapped his brother on the back. “Call if you need anything,” he said. “We’ll be at the station.”
“Sounds good,” Ridge replied. “Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime, brother.”
Ridge waited until his siblings had left the room before turning to Darcy. “Well, I guess we should head home.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Ridge’s expression didn’t change, but a coolness entered his eyes and she kicked herself for asking the question. “It’s not that I doubt your capabilities,” she said, trying to smooth things over. “But a baby is a big deal.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he said. “And yes, I’m sure I can handle it.”
Darcy held his gaze for a moment, recognizing the glint of determination she saw in his dark brown eyes. Ridge had the strongest will she’d ever known, and if he’d made up his mind to do something, he would follow through regardless of the consequences.
Knowing she’d lost this battle, Darcy decided to do what she could to help. “At least let me send you home with some supplies.”
Ridge nodded, and she spent the next few moments gathering up all the spare diapers and formula bottles she could find. She returned to the room with her arms full of packages to find Ridge had already moved the baby from the crib to the car seat.
“It’s not a lot,” she said, setting everything on the exam bed. “But it should last a couple of days at least.”
“Thank you,” Ridge said. “I appreciate your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Darcy replied. Now that the moment was here, she was strangely reluctant to part from Ridge. Being around him again was unsettling, but a small part of her felt comforted by his presence. Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’re just tired.
“Do you need help getting out to your truck?”
Ridge shook his head and she fought off a swell of disappointment. “I’ve got it,” he said, scooping everything up. “Come on, Penny,” he said.
The dog got to her feet and stretched then looked up at Ridge expectantly, awaiting his next direction.
Ridge turned to face Darcy. “Thanks again,” he said. He took a step toward the door, then stopped and looked back. “It was nice to see you again, Darcy. You take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” she replied softly. She watched Ridge walk away, marveling at the way he seemed to take all the oxygen in the room with him. His absence made her feel both relieved and sad in equal parts. “It’s for the best,” she said to the empty room. “I’m leaving soon, and I don’t need a complication like Ridge taking up what little time I have here.”
It was the truth, but it didn’t help. Even though their relationship had ended years ago, she still felt as if there was unfinished business between them.
Darcy shook her head and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Seeing Ridge had been a shock, but she couldn’t dwell on the past forever.
Time to get back to work.
* * *
“I don’t understand what your problem is. The return policy is printed right there on the receipt—thirty days from the time of purchase. I bought this just last week.” Francine Gibbons arched a brow at the clerk and stared at her, daring her to argue the point.
“Yes, ma’am, I understand that. But the dress has what looks like a wine stain on the skirt. I’m afraid I can’t accept a return of damaged merchandise.” The clerk sounded apologetic, but Francine was not appeased. Did she really not know who she was talking to?
“I’m not going to argue with you about this. I want to speak to your manager.” It wasn’t her fault the dress was ruined—Ted always got a little handsy after a few drinks, and in his eagerness he’d managed to knock over her glass of red wine. The tablecloth at the restaurant had taken most of the damage, but enough of it had gotten on her dress that she wouldn’t be able to wear it again. Best to return it and get something new.
“Ma’am, it’s store policy,” the clerk began, but Francine cut her off.
“I thought I made myself clear. I told you I want to speak to your manager. Why are you still standing here?”
“Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Gibbons?” An older woman