and walked off wondering if he was losing it. A beautiful woman, a willing smile and he didn’t act on it. What was he looking for? He suddenly saw green eyes and an uptight expression.
Grace.
Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his head?
THE NEXT MORNING Tuck was at the hospital early. Opal was at the nurses’ station so he slipped in to see Brady. He was still lying on his stomach, but in a different direction and he had on a diaper and a gown. The dog, all clean, was tucked under his arm.
He stood there staring at this little boy whose life might become a part of his own. Suddenly he wanted that more than anything—to love him, to make sure he never went hungry and that no one ever harmed him again. He could do that. He could be Brady’s father.
“Are you the officer who brought the stuffed animal?”
Tuck turned to look at a woman sitting by the next bed, where a little girl in a pink gown slept. Machines were attached to her head and her chest. “Yes,” he replied, and introduced himself.
“I’m Barbara Wilcott and this—” she glanced at the baby “—is my daughter, Molly. That’s very nice, what you did.”
“Thank you.” Tuck walked around Brady’s bed to stare at Molly. Her head was bandaged and she had an IV in her arm. “How is your daughter?”
“They removed a tumor from her brain three days ago. She hasn’t woken up yet. We keep waiting.” Barbara brushed away a tear.
Tuck felt a lump in his throat. “How old is she?”
“Two.”
“She’s very lucky to have you.”
Barbara wiped away another tear. “And that little boy is lucky to have someone so caring looking out for him.”
Opal entered the room, preventing Tuck from responding. “I pray your little girl recovers,” he said instead, and walked over to Opal.
“How’s Brady?” he asked.
“He’s much better. They took out his IV this morning.” Opal set her purse on the floor. “He should wake up at any moment. I just spoke with the nurse and she said they’ll start the refeeding process and watch him closely. The problem with kids this age who’ve been deprived of food is they’ll binge on everything in sight. She said they’ll start with formula and work up to solids, taking it slowly.”
“Does anyone know how long he was without food?”
“We’re guessing about three to four days. The neighbor saw Nicole with Brady about four days ago, but she hasn’t seen Brady since. Nicole has been in and out, but no Brady. We think Davis cut off her drug supply and she was out looking for another fix. She found the guy who was dead in the bed in a bar. Davis came home at the wrong time, or maybe for Brady it was the right time. Just so sad.” Opal shook her head.
“Yeah. But Brady’s going to be okay, that’s the main thing.”
Opal nodded. “I got your message about the grandparents. Sad, but I see it all the time. Some can’t do enough. Others just walk away, but that’s okay. We’ll find Brady a really good home.”
“I’m thinking about adopting him.” Tuck thought this was as good a time as any to tell her.
Those tired blue eyes opened wide. “You talked your wife into taking him. That’s wonderful.”
“I’m not married.”
Opal frowned. “What?”
He knew what that frown was about. “Is there a law that says a single male can’t adopt?”
“Heaven forbid, are you from another planet?”
He tensed. “I take offense to that.”
“Take all the offense you want. I’m just being honest. I know you care for Brady and you’ve formed a connection to him. But I’ve been in this business long enough to know that a judge rarely grants custody to a single person, especially male.”
“But it’s not unheard of?”
Opal pushed her glasses up her nose. “I wish you would have told me this yesterday. I’ve already let people know we have a fourteen-month-old up for possible adoption. We’ll get responses—” she looked directly at him “—from couples. And a judge will go for a family structure first.”
“I know,” Tuck admitted. “But I have to try.”
Opal shook her head again. “You’re a rare specimen, Ranger Tucker.”
Tuck had heard that before.
Brady moaned and they turned their attention to him. He rolled over, winced as his bottom touched the bed, but he didn’t cry. He sat up and stared at Tuck and Opal.
“Why isn’t he crying?” Tuck asked under his breath.
“I have no idea,” Opal whispered back. “He should be screaming his head off.”
Brady grabbed his stuffed dog and held it close to his chest, his dark eyes watching them.
Tuck removed his hat and placed it on the nightstand. “Hi there, buddy,” he said. “Feeling better?”
Brady didn’t make a move or a sound.
Tuck held out his hands over the railing. “Want to get out of there for a minute?”
Brady leaned over and bit his fingers.
“Ouch, buddy. That’s not nice.”
“Oh, this is going to be a tough one,” Opal said. “I can see that now. Usually babies who’ve been left alone will go to anyone, but Brady’s doing just the opposite. He’s fighting back at everyone.”
A nurse came in with a sippy cup of milk and Tuck and Opal backed away to let her take care of him. She didn’t have much better luck. Brady hit and bit her, but he took the milk.
Watching Brady, Tuck could almost feel his anger and he knew Brady’s full recovery was going to take time. He’d have to learn to trust again. Tuck was patient and could help Brady—if only the court would let him.
GRACE WAS HAVING A BAD DAY—her second in a row now. It was Jeremiah’s fault. Ever since he’d touched her she’d been having all these feminine feelings distracting her from her work.
Today she went shoe shopping, her passion, on her lunch break and stopped in the lingerie department at Neiman Marcus. She looked at skimpy, silk peignoirs like the ones Caroline used to wear. She’d even bought one. When she planned to wear it, she had no idea. She just enjoyed looking at it and imagining herself wearing it.
If she was really honest with herself, she’d go so far as to admit that she imagined the look in Jeremiah’s eyes when he saw her in it. But being honest with herself made her appear needy and pathetic and…
She had to get Jeremiah out of her head. How did she do that? He was a man and she was a woman, so the logical process would be to have an open and adult conversation. Simple. She chewed on the inside of her lip. Then why did the thought make her feel as if she were being prepped for painful surgery—open heart surgery?
A tap at her door interrupted her agonizing thoughts. “Come in.”
Nina, her secretary, walked in with a notepad in her hand. “You have a partners meeting at two and Mr. Coffey wants to speak to you beforehand.” Nina, a single mother of two, was all business and Grace liked that about her. They had a good working relationship.
Grace leaned back in her chair. “Did he mention what about?”
“No. But it’s either about the day care center you’re opening on the first floor or he wants your support on something.”
Byron Coffey was her father’s age and had joined