The Baby Switch!

by Melissa Senate

  He took home the wrong baby...

  But gained a wife!

  Single dad Liam Mercer loves his son with all his heart. But the unthinkable has happened—his beloved baby isn’t really his! And Shelby Ingalls is reeling to discover that her baby was accidentally switched with Liam’s. Their solution? Marriage! And in this new Wyoming Multiples miniseries by the former Meg Maxwell, the sparks flying in this marriage of convenience sure look a lot like love.

  There was no bridal march. There was no red carpet. There was no aisle.

  Shelby focused on the babies in their tuxedo-printed sleepers, and they looked so cute and sweet that she couldn’t help the smile bursting from inside her. But when she glanced at her groom, waiting by the mayor’s side, her smile faded. From nerves.

  She was marrying this man. He would be her husband. Not in every sense of the word, but he would be hers.

  As she stood inches across from Liam, facing him, she forced the cotton from her ears and the strange sensation from her head to focus on the mayor’s words.

  “Do you, Shelby Rae Ingalls, take Liam West Mercer as your lawfully wedded husband?”

  She looked at Liam, who was looking directly in her eyes, not a hint of worry or concern in his eyes. Because he was getting exactly what he wanted and needed. The family unit. A mother for Alexander. His biological child, Shane. An agreement: no love, no romance, no passion.

  She glanced at the babies in their tuxedo sleepers. You’re doing this for them. And for you. So you can have them both without worry.

  And you’re doing it for Liam. A good man.

  “I do,” she said.

  WYOMING MULTIPLES: Lots of babies, lots of love

  Dear Reader,

  In July 2002, I gave birth to my only child, a baby boy, in a New York City hospital. From the moment he was taken away to be weighed and measured and tidied up, I worried that something could happen to him. He was a mere five pounds, four ounces! Tiny! Defenseless! Any time a nurse came to my room, which I shared with a roommate who’d also just had a dark-haired, slate-blue-eyed baby boy, to bring him back to the nursery, I worried she’d accidentally switch the babies. Yes, I know—crazy, but I was in my postdelivery haze.

  Then, a few years ago, my son and I started binge-watching a TV show called Switched at Birth, about two teenagers who discover they were switched, and he said, “Wow, can that even really happen? Can two babies be accidentally switched in the hospital right after they’re born?” I did an online search and the answer was yes. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. So I decided to write a novel to allow for the happiest possible ending. In Wedlock Creek, Wyoming, Shelby Ingalls, a struggling single mother, and Liam Mercer, a wealthy single father, discover their baby boys were switched at birth. How they decide to handle the situation surprises everyone, especially these two, who’ve been guarding their hearts for a long time.

  Did you know that I also recently wrote the Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen miniseries for Special Edition under the pen name Meg Maxwell? For more information about me and my books, please visit my website, melissasenate.com. You can also write me with comments or questions at MelissaSenate@yahoo.com, friend me on Facebook at Facebook.com/melissasenate and follow me on Twitter, @MelissaSenate. Thanks so much for your interest in The Baby Switch!, book one of The Wyoming Multiples series.

  Thank you!

  Melissa Senate

  The Baby Switch!

  Melissa Senate

  Melissa Senate has written many novels for Harlequin and other publishers, including her debut, See Jane Date, which was made into a TV movie. She also wrote seven books for Harlequin’s Special Edition line under the pen name Meg Maxwell. Her novels have been published in over twenty-five countries. Melissa lives on the coast of Maine with her teenaged son, their sweet beagle, Lemon, and a lap cat named Cleo. For more information, please visit her website, melissasenate.com.

  Books by Melissa Senate

  Harlequin Special Edition

  Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen

  (as Meg Maxwell)

  Santa’s Seven-Day Baby Tutorial

  Charm School for Cowboys

  The Cook’s Secret Ingredient

  The Cowboy’s Big Family Tree

  The Detective’s 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise

  A Cowboy in the Kitchen

  The Montana Mavericks: The Great Family Roundup

  (as Meg Maxwell)

  Mommy and the Maverick

  Red Dress Ink

  Little Black Dress

  Whose Wedding Is It Anyway?

  The Breakup Club

  The Solomon Sisters Wise Up

  Questions to Ask Before Marrying

  Love You to Death

  See Jane Date

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  Dedicated to the one, the only Gail Chasan, editor extraordinaire.

  I can’t thank you enough for everything.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Her Man on Three Rivers Ranch by Stella Bagwell

  Chapter One

  Liam Mercer’s agenda for Friday, April 14:

  *Negotiate 2.4 million-dollar acquisition of Kenyon Corp.

  *Take six-month-old son for first haircut at Kidz Kutz, where apparently there was a baby seat in the shape of a choo-choo train, and a puppet show video to distract criers.

  *Preside over four meetings, sign countless documents, approve hiring of VP in New Business Development, prepare quarterly report for board of directors.

  *Repair lifetime rift between his father, the imperious Harrington Mercer, and his I’ll-do-what-I-want-it’s-my-life younger brother over the weekly family dinner tonight at the Mercer ranch.

  Just another Friday. Well, except for the haircut. That was new. Liam loved firsts when it came to Alexander and noted them all in the leather-bound baby book his cousin Clara had given him, along with a seven-foot-tall stuffed giraffe, the day after Alexander was born. The first notation of the first first: at barely a half hour old, Alexander West Mercer wrapped his tiny fist around Liam’s pinky. Every worry and fear that a single, twenty-eight-year-old corporate president who’d had no idea he was even going to be a father could actually raise a helpless living creature on his own, fell away. Of course, every one of those worries returned two seconds later, but his heart had been swiped by the little guy. A love he’d never felt before had come bursting out of Liam’s chest. And that was that.

  He shifted Alexander in his arm, nudged the heavy baby bag higher up on his other shoulder and pulled open the door to Mercer Industries. Despite the fleece jacket with its bear-ears hood covering his son’s dark hair, the silky wisps were getting so unruly they were peeking out. The plan was to knock off the acquisition, deal with two of the meetings, then slip away at lunchtime to Kidz Kutz and be ready with his camera.

  “There’s Wyoming’s luckiest baby!”

  Liam turned around in the reception area. Clara, his favorite cousin and right-hand woman, VP of Mercer Industries
, bent forward to coo at Alexander. As it was just before nine o’clock, employees began streaming through the doors, smiling at Alexander as they passed through to the elevator bank.

  Clara gave the baby a little tap on the nose. “Yup, luckiest. Millionaire at birth, gorgeous gray-blue eyes and the Mercer dimple and a doting extended family, including myself. Oh, and let’s not forget a daddy who refuses to hire a nanny and instead keeps him close by at the cushy company day care and visits twice a day.”

  “Three times, actually,” Liam said. He couldn’t spend enough time with his son.

  And at least it was Friday. Even though Liam always had work crowding his weekend, he was looking forward to his plans to take Alexander on a hike up Wedlock Creek Mountain to see the huge Cottonwoods. Alexander would watch the scenery from his perch in the backpack carrier, one of the zillion baby gifts he’d received from family and friends and coworkers in total shock that Liam Mercer, who wasn’t exactly a playboy but lived for work, had become a father.

  After the hike it would be library time, where he’d sack out on the huge bean bags dotting the children’s room and read Alexander’s favorite book three times, the one with the talking pear named Joe. On Sunday they’d head to his family’s ranch, a huge spread with a small petting zoo that his father had created just for Alexander. He was a good eight months away from feeding a goat pellets from his hand, but his dad wanted the zoo in place “because clearly Alexander is advanced.” His father was way over-the-top when it came to Alexander, but Liam had to admit the grandfatherly pride was touching. Especially from Harrington Mercer.

  Liam’s phone buzzed in his pocket, as it had been doing for the past half hour, par for the course for the president of Mercer Industries. But he couldn’t reach his phone with Alexander in one arm and his baby bag in the other. “Hold him for a sec, will you, Clara?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “And risk baby spit-up on my dress for the big meeting with Kenyon Corp? No way.” She did a few rounds of peekaboo, covering her face and opening her hands to reveal a big smile to a rapt Alexander. “Peekaboo, I see you! And I swear I love you even if I won’t risk what happened last month at your grandmother’s birthday dinner. Oh, yeah. I know you remember, drool-boy.” She blew a kiss at Alexander, then headed through the frosted-glass double doors on her very high heels.

  Liam rolled his eyes with a smile. Six months and a day ago, he’d been the same way. He’d no sooner go near a sticky baby than pet an animal who’d get white hairs on his Hugo Boss suit. But six months and a day ago, Liam hadn’t even known he was about to become a father.

  Life could change just like that. And had.

  And now Liam knew how wrong he and Clara were about their expensive clothes and perfect hair. Spit-up didn’t bother him at all. Changing diapers—no problem. Alexander’s new favorite solid food—Toasty Os cereal—thrown at his hair with a giggle? Good arm, kid. It was amazing how Liam had changed in six months because of one tiny baby. His baby.

  And Clara was wrong about something else. Alexander wasn’t the luckiest baby in Wyoming. He didn’t have everything.

  He didn’t have a mother.

  After the shock had worn off, when Liam had stepped into his new role as someone’s father, when he’d sit with Alexander in the middle of the night in the rocking chair in the nursery, feeding him a bottle, holding him, rocking him, breathing in the baby-shampoo scent of him, staring at every beautiful bit of him, all Liam could really focus on was the fact that his baby’s mother had died during childbirth, that this innocent child in his arms was motherless.

  Liam was doing okay as a father, maybe even better than okay. It had been some learning curve. He’d forced himself to take two weeks off from the office, hired a baby nurse to teach him the ropes, which had involved waking up every few hours, warming baby bottles, changing diapers, acquainting himself with ointments and lotions and baby bathtubs, and figuring out which cry meant hungry or diaper rash or gas or pick me up. Now, six months later, he basically knew what he was doing. But no matter that Liam was there, really there, he was no substitute for a mother.

  The problem with finding a mother for his son was that Liam wasn’t looking for a wife.

  “There’s our little heir,” came the voice of Harrington Mercer. The fifty-eight-year-old CEO took Alexander and held him high in the air, his own expensive suit be damned. “Good, Alexander, you’re all ready for a day of soaking up the corporate culture. You’ll intern here through college, then get your MBA, and you’ll be in line to take over Mercer Industries, just like your father and your grandfather did from great-granddad Wilton Mercer.”

  Liam mentally shook his head. “Dad, he’s six months old. Let’s get him sleeping through the night before he starts as a junior analyst at MI.”

  His father waved his hand in the air. “Never too soon to immerse the heir in the learning process. Anyone knows that, it’s you, Liam. Heck, you grew up in this building.” His dad smiled and kissed Alexander on the cheek. “Oh, I have a little present for you, Alexander.” He set his briefcase on the reception desk and opened it, and pulled out a tiny brown Stetson. “There. We may be businessmen, but we’re Wyoming men and cowboys at heart.”

  Harrington Mercer took off Alexander’s hood and settled the little hat, lined with fleece, on his head, nodded approvingly, then handed him back to Liam and headed through the double doors.

  “One minute I don’t understand your grandfather at all,” he whispered to Alexander. “And the next, I want to hug him. People are complicated. Life lesson one thousand five.”

  Alexander smiled and reached out to squeeze Liam’s chin.

  “You know what’s not complicated?” Liam whispered as he shifted his son to push open the door. “How much I love you.”

  Liam took the elevator to the fourth floor, which held the company’s health club, cafeteria and the day care, using his key card to open the door to the day care center. The main room, separated from the door with a white picket fence-gate decorated with grass and trees and flowers, was for the toddlers and preschool-age kids. Liam waved at one of the teachers, then headed into the nursery for babies under fourteen months. The room, with its pale blue walls bordered with smiling cartoon animals, was cozy with its decor and baby gear, the play mats and bouncers and bassinets with little spinning mobiles playing lullabies. Two babies were already there, having tummy time on the thickly padded mats. There were seven babies currently, ranging in age from three to twelve months.

  “Morning, Liam,” the nursery director said with a smile. “And good morning, Alexander. I like your hat.”

  Liam signed in his son and handed him over, always feeling like he was handing over a piece of his heart. Another employee came in with her four-month-old and stood for a while by the window, nuzzling her little daughter’s cheek before finally giving her to the director with a wistful smile.

  I know how you feel, he thought, staring at his baby son. It’s so hard to say goodbye, even for a few hours.

  The day care center had been started almost sixty years ago by his grandmother, Alexandra Mercer, for whom Alexander was named. Back then, when the brilliant businesswoman, then president of Mercer Industries, became a mother, she’d insisted that her husband, Wilton, the CEO, agree to open a day care center on site for all employees. She’d hired the best nannies in Wedlock Creek to staff the new corporate day care and told off anyone who dared say that she should be at home, raising her child herself. Back then, not many employees partook in the service offered. But now, with women comprising over half the employees at MI, the day care center was almost always filled to capacity. Knowing their babies and toddlers and preschoolers were well taken care of just an elevator ride away made for happier, more productive employees. Liam could attest to that firsthand.

  He kneeled down on Alexander’s play mat and pulled out his phone to take a photo of Alexander in his cowboy hat, noticing an u
nfamiliar number on the screen. The same number had called three times in the past half hour. As he snapped the photo of Alexander, the phone buzzed again.

  “Can I throw this thing out the window?” Liam asked the director.

  She laughed. “You go ahead—answer it, I mean. We’ll take good care of Alexander.”

  Liam smiled and nodded. “See you in a few hours for lunch and a haircut, cowboy,” he said to Alexander, then finally answered the call on his way out the door.

  “Liam Mercer,” he said.

  “Oh, thank goodness we finally reached you,” a female voice said. “Mr. Mercer, my name is Anne Parcells. I’m the administrator of the Wedlock Creek Clinic. We need you to come to the clinic right away and to bring the minor child, Alexander West Mercer, and your attorney.”

  He froze. The minor child? His attorney? What the hell was this?

  Liam frowned. “What’s this about?”

  “We’ll discuss everything at the meeting,” Parcells said. “If you can get here by 9:15, that would be appreciated. The others will be here by then, as well.”

  “The others?”

  She didn’t respond to that. “Can we expect you by 9:15, Mr. Mercer? Please come to my office, two doors from the main entrance.”

  Liam glanced at his watch. It was 8:55. “I’ll be there.”

  There for what, though? Alexander was born in the Wedlock Creek Clinic. If the administrator was referring to his son as “the minor child” and talking attorneys, there was probably some kind of liability issue regarding the night he was born. A class action lawsuit, maybe. Liam closed his eyes for a second as memories of the snowstorm came back, memories he’d tried to block. Alexander’s mother phoning him, a desperation in Liza Harwood’s voice he’d never heard before, not that he’d known her very long.

  Liam, there’s no time for explanations. I’m nine months pregnant with your baby and in labor. I should have told you before but I’m telling you now. I’m on my way to the clinic. The snowstorm is so bad. If anything happens to me, I left you a letter...