“There now,” she murmured and brushed the silken golden-blonde hair on the child’s head. “You did that like a pro.”
Avery snorted. “Hey there, Princess.”
The child stared up at her father, her gaze transfixed by the man gazing down at her.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Haley’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed at the tender bonding moment.
“My baby,” he murmured. “My little girl. No one is going to hurt you ever again.”
Tears blurred Haley’s vision. She blinked them away as quickly as possible.
“Let me get that bottle, Papa.”
Hurrying to the kitchen, she pulled from the fridge one of the bottles she and her mother had prepared earlier in the day and placed it into the bottle warmer.
“I remember when that fridge held as many longnecks as it does those bottles.”
Haley grinned. “Those will be gone by tomorrow, and we’ll make a whole new batch. I hope the longnecks didn’t disappear as quickly.”
Pulling the bottle from the warmer, she tested the milk on her wrist—“Ah, just right”—and then, satisfied with the temperature, she turned to face Avery.
Holding the bottle out, she watched his eyes round.
“I can’t,” he panicked. “I don’t know what to do.”
She moved to his side and hovered at his right elbow. “I don’t believe that. You’ve bottle fed motherless cows and abandoned foals. She’s no different. All you have to do is show her the business end, and she’ll do the rest herself.”
Avery’s fearful gaze stared down at her. Haley reached out and grasped his right hand, then placed the bottle against his palm and folded his fingers around it.
“Go ahead, Papa. Give it a whirl.”
Under her watchful gaze, he turned toward the child. The baby’s eyes widened as she focused on the nourishment. Her mouth opened in anticipation. Her feet wiggled and her arms stretched toward his. Haley watched as his hand narrowed the gap and the child’s fingers opened, taking a firm hold on Avery’s hand. Seconds later, the bottle was in her mouth, and she suckled contently.
“See, that’s all there is to it,” she murmured.
Leaning closer, Haley placed her head on Avery’s shoulder.
“That’s daddy’s good girl,” she cooed.
Chapter Five
Within a few days, a simple routine fused itself into place. Haley would rise around five a.m., shuffle into the kitchen, and plug in the coffeepot. Then she would make her way down the hall, toss in a load of laundry, and still manage to hand Avery a muffin before he hurried out, all bleary-eyed, to face the day. Today, the sun melted the low-hanging clouds, and she took the opportunity to set up the baby’s playpen on the front porch.
“Now…” She smiled down at the baby’s upturned face. “You play in the pen, while I hang up your diapers. We’ll enjoy the sun together, okay, Princess?”
The infant’s trusting eyes gazed adoringly up at her, and Haley’s heart melted. “You know, you are just too darn cute for words.”
The little face broke into a grin, and she couldn’t resist brushing her index finger down the child’s nose. Avery’s daughter squealed with joy and waved her arms and legs to show her approval. Chuckling, Haley laid the child down and placed her favorite rattle close at hand.
“I’m going to be right over here at the clothesline.”
Picking up the basket, she rested it against her hip and crossed the short distance over to the three lines of rope Avery had strung the day before, just for this purpose. She set the basket down on the warm ground and glanced over to the porch. She could see the child moving her arms and legs in the air, content to practice rolling onto her side. Knowing the child was entertained, Haley bent down, picked up a diaper, draped the edge of it over the line, and clamped a clothespin over each of the two corners to hold it in place. Three diapers later, the hum of a motor caught her attention.
Turning, she watched a dark sedan bounce along the dirt drive, heading toward the yard. Haley stepped back from the line and placed a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun’s glare. An emblazoned shield on the side of the car came into view as it turned in near the house. While she couldn’t read the words, deep down she knew she didn’t have to. A sick feeling followed the drop of her stomach to her feet. She retraced her steps and placed her body in front of the playpen.
The car slowly pulled to a halt. Haley held her breath as the door opened. A leg emerged first, and the foot encased in a sensible black pump planted itself on the ground. She could only stare as the rest of the woman followed. Her skirt, the same severe color as the pump, was topped by a white blouse and a nondescript jacket. Haley would have loved to see the woman’s eyes, but a pair of dark aviators kept her identity secret. A gold nametag twinkled against the breast of her jacket. Haley didn’t need to read the name to know the social worker had arrived.
The woman reached back into the car and pulled a leather-bound agenda folder from inside. Clutching it against her chest, she approached. Haley managed to swallow the tight lump in her throat.
“May I help you?”
The woman paused. Beneath the glasses, her long mouth pulled into a straight-line smile that held no warmth.
“Are you Mrs. Johnson?”
The breath Haley had been holding spilled from the tight confines of her chest. “No.”
One thin, fine-lined brow arched above the glasses.
“I-I’m Mr. Johnson’s nanny.”
Haley hated herself for stammering. Getting hold of her emotions, she straightened her shoulders and focused on where she thought the woman’s eyes should be.
“A nanny?”
Sarcasm dripped from the woman’s lips. She turned, and Haley saw her dark hair was pulled into a severe bun that rested against the nape of her neck.
“Is Mr. Johnson available?”
Her glance swept across the barnyard.
Instinctively, Haley bent down and picked up the baby. She cuddled Princess into a protective place against her chest as she spoke. “No. Avery—I mean, Mr. Johnson—is out on the ranch today.”
The child seemed to sense her nervousness, for she grew quiet and laid her head on Haley’s chest.
The woman’s lips pursed as if something sour had crossed them. “I see,” she responded.
Opening her notebook, the social worker withdrew a pen. Her fingers pressed the top down, and Haley flinched at the click.
“Well, perhaps, we can go inside, and you can answer a few simple questions?”
That was the last thing Haley wanted. Instead, she wished to rush inside the house, snatch up her keys, and rush the baby to the main house in Avery’s beat-up old truck.
“Ma’am?” The woman’s voice grew colder.
Haley placed her feet carefully on the boards of the porch. “Yes, come in.” Stepping up to the door, she could hear the tap of the woman’s heels right behind her. Her hand fumbled with the knob, and then the door swung open. Haley stepped to the side as the woman brushed past and stood in the open doorway.
Nerves tight, she waited for the social worker to move inside. Instead, the woman took the time to pull her sunglasses from her face and give the room a onceover.
Haley followed her gaze, finding all the flaws. The half glass of tea left on the coffee table. The second load of laundry she hadn’t put in the washer, still visible in the hall. She wished now she’d taken the time to run the vacuum, or at least dusted. Several agonizing moments later, the woman moved to the couch and took a seat.
Haley stepped in and gently closed the door behind her. Turning, she spied the social worker scribbling away on her notepad. Her feet seemed laden with lead weights as she crossed over to Avery’s recliner and lowered herself to the edge of the cushion. Waiting for the woman to finish seemed to take forever. She took the chance to read the name on the tag. Livia B. Rivers—well, at least the enemy now has a name.
“
Nice place. Does Mr. Johnson own it?”
Haley’s head jerked, and she focused on the woman sitting across from her.
“The house belongs to the Diamond D. Avery Johnson is their foreman.”
“So it’s a rental.” River’s looked down her nose at Haley.
How dare she! Anger coursed through Haley’s veins. Even the baby felt it, for she began to fret. She lifted the baby onto her shoulder and patted. “It is a perk of the job. The other hands on the ranch live dormitory-style on the other side of the ranch house.” To her delight, Rivers frowned.
“So how long have you been a nanny?”
Haley blinked. “Me?”
Rivers’ mouth twisted into a smile that failed to warm her eyes. “Do you have a degree in early childhood education or some other program that makes you fit to care for the child?”
“Fit!” Haley stared in disbelief.
Rivers cocked her head to the side, waiting.
“Not early childhood,” Haley snapped. “I…”
But the social worker cut her off. “I’ll take that as a no.”
Haley pressed her lips together as her temper mounted. She gave the woman a narrow glance. “I was going to say, I don’t have a degree in early childhood. However, I do have my associate’s degree. It’s in interdisciplinary studies. I planned on teaching first grade.”
The woman’s eyebrows arched. “So what stopped you from finishing?”
“Personal matters.”
“Such as?” Rivers poised her pen over the pad, ready to write.
“Divorce.” Haley bristled. “Divorce. I came home after my marriage dissolved.”
Livia Rivers bounced the end of her pen on the notepad in thought, then asked, “Your divorce, was it because of Mr. Johnson?”
Haley’s heart thudded to a stop. Her jaw slackened, and she stared at the woman across from her. “Excuse me?”
Rivers gave another twisted smile. “In preparation for today, I did some background work. It seems to be common knowledge that in high school you ran with a fast crowd. My sources tell me that you had a ‘thing’ for Mr. Johnson.”
“You did a background search?” Haley spit the words out; they left a sour taste in her mouth. “You mean you’ve been down to the Lucky Quarter, listening to gossip.”
Rivers ignored the remark. “Now, Miss Thorpe—or is it still Branch?”
“Thorpe,” Haley snapped and rose to her feet. “I believe this interview is over.”
Rivers looked up. Her eyes hardened. “I don’t believe you want to do this.”
Haley’s anger caused her to tremble. “Oh, forgive me, but you don’t know how much I do.”
The social worker drew her mouth into a pout.
“I see.”
She snapped the portfolio closed and stood. Facing Haley, she gave her a hard stare.
“You must know that usually, in cases such as these, we take the child until the investigation has been concluded. Mr. Davis may throw his weight around to get what he wants through the police department, but the County is very concerned about the welfare of this child. If it were up to me, Miss Thorpe, I’d leave here with that child, Mr. Davis be damned.”
Haley opened her mouth to speak, only to hear Alicia Davis’s voice instead: “Oh, Haley, you have company.”
Both women turned to stare at the woman at the door. Alicia Davis smiled back. When neither Haley nor Rivers spoke, she pushed the door wider and stepped in.
“I brought some of those cinnamon rolls you like.” She lifted the glass baking dish she held. “Just tell me where you want it, and I’ll put it down and leave.”
“No.” Haley offered a quick glance. “Stay. Mrs. Rivers was just leaving.”
“Really?” Alicia looked from one to the other. “And I was hoping to be introduced.”
“I need to change the baby,” Haley continued.
“Well, I’ll keep…” Alicia looked at the social worker, obviously hoping for a name.
“Rivers. Livia Rivers.”
“Ah, Miss, is it?”
The social worker nodded.
“Well, I’ll keep Miss Rivers company while you change that precious little one, and then we’ll all talk.”
“You do that,” Haley snapped and turned on her heel to leave.
****
The bedroom door slammed shut. Alicia Davis winced. “Gracious, I must have my husband look at that door. So…” She turned and beamed a smile at the social worker. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
The social worker used her free hand to smooth down her skirt. “I would like one, yes.”
Alicia gave a nod. “Fine, follow me.”
Leading the way to the kitchen, Alicia glanced over at the small dinette table. “Have a seat.”
Leaving the social worker to seat herself, she placed her baking pan on the stove top and reached for the canister of coffee against the back of the counter.
“So you’re here to see how we are taking care of the baby.”
Livia dampened her lips with the edge of her tongue. “I have been asked by the county office to look into the matter.”
“Good. I’m sure you will find Haley is doing a fine job.” Alicia poured the ground coffee into the filter and plopped it into the coffeemaker. “I must say, Avery was quite in shock when he found the child on his doorstep.”
“I imagine he was,” the social worker agreed. “Perhaps he should have thought about the consequences of his actions before spending the night with the baby’s mother.”
Alicia said nothing. Turning toward the counter, she put her back to the woman at the table and silently counted to ten before pulling the steaming pot toward her and filling two mugs. Her fingers threaded through the handles, she took a deep breath before facing the social worker.
“Here’s our coffee.” She took two steps and set one mug before Livia and took the seat opposite. “Sugar?” She pushed the bowl toward her.
Livia shook her head.
Alicia pulled two packets out, tore the edges, and tipped them over her cup. She watched the sweet grains fall into the dark coffee. Glancing over to the social worker, she replied, “Don’t you think that’s a very cynical point of view?”
Livia’s head jerked up, and they stared at one another. “Mrs. Davis, emotion has no place when it comes to guaranteeing the safety and welfare of a child.”
“Oh, on the contrary, I would think emotion should play a part. Your gut should tell you that a child needs love, and that is exactly what that sweet bundle is getting here. Haley Thorpe is a wonderful caretaker. I would recommend her one hundred percent.”
Livia gave a sigh. Pushing the mug to the center of the table, she rose to her feet and pulled the strap of her pocketbook onto her shoulder. “And that is why, Mrs. Davis, this conversation is at an end. I plan on remaining impartial when it comes to this investigation.”
The woman’s glance moved to the coffee cup, and Alicia’s eyes followed.
“Bribery of any sort is frowned upon. Even Mr. Davis’s money and influence can’t change the outcome.”
Alicia’s jaw grew slack. “Ms. Rivers, I assure you this was just a cup of coffee.”
Livia straightened her shoulders. “Perhaps.”
Without another word, she turned on her heel and moved toward the front door.
“Have a good day, Mrs. Davis. We’ll be in touch.”
****
Haley heard the door to the bedroom open. She didn’t want to look up. She’d changed the baby, then taken a seat in the bedroom rocking chair Avery had brought in just for her. Rocking the baby calmed her. That woman had destroyed all the goodness and niceness she’d felt all day and left her with nothing but anger and the urge to strike out and hurt just as she had been hurt. Yes, holding Avery’s little princess filled the gnawing hole that gave her the impression she’d somehow failed, big time.
“Haley? Honey, are you all right?”
Alicia’s voice brought a rush of raw emotions re
miniscent of the hurt from high school, when she had been “the girl on the outside.” Despite her attempts to control it, Haley felt her chin tremble.
“Is she gone?”
Each word in the sentence came out haltingly, like a sentence unto itself.
“She’s gone.”
Alicia Davis walked toward her and perched on the edge of the bed next to the rocking chair. “That woman is a piece of work,” she admitted.
Haley kept her focus on the baby going to sleep in her arms. “She—” The word came out rough, and she paused to take a calming breath. “She made me feel…feel like such a failure.”
Haley couldn’t stop it. A tear pooled over the edge of her eye and slid down the lash to find its own path down her cheek.
“Oh, Haley.” Alicia’s soft tone surrounded her like a hug. “You are not a failure.” Her comforting hand found Haley’s shoulder. “You weren’t a failure when you came home after Joey took off. You are not a failure now. In fact, I think you are one of the smartest women I know.”
She couldn’t help it. Alicia’s words touched a switch, and Haley broke down.
Chapter Six
Avery knew something was wrong before he stepped out of the cab of his truck. The main clue? Jim Davis’s pickup parked right next to Josephine Thorpe’s car. The clan had gathered. His heart plummeting to his boots, he slammed the vehicle into Park, cut the motor, and threw open the door to rush toward the house. Bursting through the front door, he expected to find bodies or some kind of disaster. Instead, three heads turned in his direction. Their solemn glances did little to dissuade his feeling of impending doom.
“Haley?”
She rose slowly from the seat in the chair opposite the couch.
“Avery.”
“The baby. Is she all right?”
Haley blinked.
“Is my princess all right?” he demanded again. When Haley didn’t answer, he strode down the hall and opened the bedroom door, to find his daughter sleeping peacefully.
The breath he’d been holding slipped past his lips, and he walked to the edge of the crib. His hands first latched onto the railing of the crib as he stared at her little body beneath the bright pink blanket. Gingerly, he reached out with his right hand and rested it lightly against her back. A deep relief flooded through him as he felt the rise and fall in her little body.
Baby on His Doorstep Page 5
