by Teri Wilson
“She’s right,” Wade said. “Vermont’s Safe Haven law means she can give up the baby anonymously.”
Such a thing had never happened in Lovestruck before, though. According to what the mother had told him when she’d given birth on Thanksgiving Day, she didn’t even live in the Lovestruck town limits. She lived in a rural community two counties away, closer to Burlington. Under the Safe Haven law, she could have taken the baby to any police or fire station, a hospital or house of worship. There had to be at least half a dozen of those closer to the young woman’s home.
Which meant she’d specifically wanted to leave her baby with him.
“Okay.” Wade swallowed hard. “Everything’s going to be fine. There are procedures for this sort of thing.”
“Good.” Felicity blew out an exhale, as if she’d finally remembered how to breathe.
Wade wished he could hug her, but he had an armful of baby and was far too rattled to attempt multitasking. He also wished—very much so—that Felicity wasn’t dressed like the Virgin Mary. She looked so pretty draped in Biblical blue silk, and coupled with the live infant cooing against his chest, it was just too much. Like this moment was predestined somehow. Fated.
“What are those procedures, exactly?” Felicity glanced down at the baby and then back up at him. “What do we do now?”
We.
Thank God. If she left him to deal with the child alone, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Some hero.
Wade took a deep breath. He’d been trained for instances exactly like this one. He knew precisely what he was supposed to do—examine the baby to make sure the child was unharmed and then transport him immediately to a hospital. From there, the Department of Child and Family Services would take over. They were used to this sort of thing. They did it every day. They’d most likely place the child in a foster home, and Wade would be free to go.
And he’d never see the baby again.
His throat burned. He looked down at the tiny bundle resting in his arms and breathed in the newborn’s soft, baby powder scent. He couldn’t drive to Burlington and hand the child over to a government agency. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.
“We’re calling Cap,” Wade said.
Cap would help him. He’d understand Wade’s dilemma—at least Wade hoped he would.
But whatever happened, Wade didn’t want to go through it alone. Maybe it was the fact that he and Felicity were both standing there on a cold December night, dressed as Mary and Joseph. Or maybe it was the way her eyes seemed haunted every time she looked at the baby, but it felt like they were in this thing together. And he wanted, needed, it to stay that way. At least for now.
“Don’t go,” he said, and his voice sounded rusty all of a sudden, like it hadn’t been used in a very long time. Then again, Wade wasn’t accustomed to asking for help. He was unflappable. Like most firemen, he was always composed, always in control.
Until now, it seemed.
“Please,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. “Please, don’t go.”
* * *
Back when Felicity worked at Fashionista in New York, the magazine did a glamorous photography spread based on the scientific principle of the flight-versus-fight response. Sometimes called the acute stress response, fight or flight refers to the human body’s physiological reaction to anything extreme or terrifying. Triggered by the nervous system, a rush of hormones flood the body, propelling a person to either stay and fight or run away as fast as they can.
The photo spread, shot on location in the hall of dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History on the Upper West Side, was somewhat ridiculous. Reed-thin models in sky-high Jimmy Choo stilettos ran away from T. rex skeletons, while others pretended to box a Brontosaurus with diamond-encrusted boxing gloves from Tiffany and Co. Absurdity aside, seeing the pictures on the glossy pages of the magazine where she worked made Felicity wonder what she might do when faced with imminent danger.
Flee? Or stay and fight for her life?
Now that she was inside the warm firehouse, settled into one of the soft leather recliners with the LFD logo embroidered on its back, she still wasn’t sure. There was an infant on her lap, staring up at her with baby blue eyes and a tiny little mouth as perfect as a pert little bow. Felicity’s heart was pounding so hard and fast, she knew she was definitely having some sort of major physiological response, but she couldn’t decide which one it was.
Was it possible to want desperately to flee and somehow also long to stay and cuddle the innocent baby cooing away on her lap, all at once?
“Well.” Cap sighed and sat back in the recliner beside her.
He’d arrived at the station within minutes of Wade’s call and, for the past half hour, had been listening intently to Felicity’s recap of the encounter with the desperate young mother. She’d told the story at least ten times by now, but it never seemed to get any easier. The lump in her throat was a hard rock, and it was beginning to feel like it might be permanent.
“Well,” Cap said again, clearly at a loss for words.
Felicity understood why he felt so unsettled, but it seemed like such a strange word to keep repeating.
Well...well.
Things weren’t well at all. In fact, she hadn’t felt so unwell in quite a while. Six months, to be exact.
“It definitely sounds like the mother has chosen to engage a safe haven.” Cap sighed again and stood. “We’ve never had a safe haven baby here in Lovestruck, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Wade?”
Wade’s gaze shifted from the baby to Cap. “Yes?”
He’d been strangely quiet since they’d moved into the firehouse, and once Cap arrived, he hadn’t added a single word to Felicity’s statement. He’d just leaned against a nearby wall with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. The only time he seemed to relax was when he looked at the baby.
“Since you were the one on duty when the child was brought in, you need to be the one to take the baby up to the hospital in Burlington.” Cap raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “A social worker will want to talk to you and have you fill out some forms. Felicity, I hate to ask you to make the trek up there, but it would be great if you went along.”
Felicity’s pulse beat so fast that she felt like she was choking on it.
“No,” Wade said quietly.
Thank goodness. The more involved she got with this mess, the worse she’d feel when it ended. She couldn’t accompany Wade all the way to the city just to drop the baby off like an unwanted animal at the pound. Just the thought of it made her stomach turn.
“I’m afraid they’ll want to talk to her, too,” Cap said. “She was the only person who had any direct contact with the mother.”
“No,” Wade said again—louder this time, with an edge that made Felicity go still. “I don’t mean that I don’t want Felicity to come along. What I’m trying to say is that we can’t turn that baby over to the state.”
Cap’s gaze narrowed as uncomfortable silence fell over the room. If the baby hadn’t just closed his eyes and fallen asleep, Felicity would have gotten up and gone someplace else. Anyplace, really. From what she knew of Cap, he was a perfectly nice man. Madison’s husband, Jack, almost seemed to think of him as a father figure, and up until now, she’d only seen Wade treat him with the utmost respect.
But Wade had just refused an order from his captain, and it didn’t seem to be going over well. An angry-looking vein had just appeared in Cap’s temple, a definite cue for Felicity to leave and let these two alpha males battle it out for themselves.
She wasn’t about to disturb the sleeping newborn, though. There wasn’t an ounce of formula on hand. Or a baby bottle. Or diapers. Or anything that infants needed. If this child started fussing, she’d have no way to make him stop, and he’d already been through more than any tiny baby should.
“Disobeying an order isn’t like you, son,” Cap finally said.
Wade seemed to soften at the endearment. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly. But his eyes grew shiny, and Felicity definitely knew she was witnessing something she shouldn’t.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said. His gaze flitted briefly toward Felicity and she looked away.
The set of Cap’s jaw went as hard as granite. “What aren’t you telling me?”
A silence fell over the room, so tense and thick it was almost palpable. The infant’s soft sleep noises seemed deafening all of a sudden.
“It’s the same baby,” Wade finally said.
Cap’s mouth fell open. At first Felicity didn’t know what Wade meant, but then she remembered what he’d said in the SUV on the way to the firehouse and the way his smile hadn’t quite met his eyes.
No baby talk tonight, I promise.
She’d given him her word, because he didn’t want to dwell on the baby he’d helped deliver—the baby everyone in town couldn’t stop talking about.
Could the infant in her lap be the very same baby?
A cold chill swept over Felicity as the young mother’s panic suddenly made more sense.
He might recognize me.
Cap studied the baby through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure?”
Wade nodded. “One thousand percent.”
The two of them looked at one another for a prolonged moment, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them.
Cap sighed. “I understand why you might feel attached, but—”
“But nothing. I’m not turning that baby over to the state. I can’t do it, not now. It’s almost Christmas. What if the mother comes back? What if...” The hint of desperation in Wade’s tone seemed to scrape Felicity’s insides, reopening wounds that had scarcely begun to mend.
What if?
Felicity allowed herself a brief moment to look at the baby’s face—really look, as opposed to just sneaking glances at him as if she were terrified of his fragile vulnerability. Which she sort of was. Although truthfully, her own vulnerability was equally terrifying.
Everything about him was so tiny and precious. His delicate eyelashes rested against pale skin, so fair it was almost translucent. And his mouth was as pink and perfect as a rosebud. Of course Wade didn’t want to turn him over to the state. Felicity completely understood his hesitancy. She understood more than he or Cap could possibly know.
Cap’s eyebrows rose. “You’re telling me you want to keep the baby.”
“What? No, of course not.” Wade went pale again. “I don’t think so, anyway.”
Good. A million things could go wrong if he tried to adopt this child. He’d have no idea what sort of pain he was opening himself up to. As much as Felicity hated to admit it, Wade was better off following Cap’s orders and taking the baby straight to the hospital.
But there was no way she was going with him. Wild horses couldn’t drag her there.
“You don’t think so?” Cap said.
Wade shook his head and dragged a hand through his hair. He looked impossibly weary all of a sudden, as if he’d been carrying the weight of the world on his back these past few weeks, instead of a mere six pounds and thirteen ounces. “I just need some time with him, okay? I feel responsible for him, and in my head, I know that the responsible thing to do is to take him straight to Burlington. But in my heart...”
His voice cracked, and Felicity’s eyes filled with unshed tears. Everything went blurry, like a watercolor painting. She really needed to leave—the sooner, the better.
“Please, Cap? Isn’t there anything you can do? It’s the holidays. Just give me until after Christmas.” Wade’s hands flexed and unflexed, like he was preparing for some sort of battle.
Cap must have finally gotten the message that he wasn’t going to back down, because the older man glanced at the infant sleeping in Felicity’s lap again, and this time, his expression turned tender. “I could probably give the social worker up in Burlington a call and see if we could place the baby with someone here in town. But I’m warning you, it’s a long shot.”
“But it’s possible?” A smile crept its way to Wade’s lips, and a rebellious little flutter traveled through Felicity’s belly.
She hadn’t been sure anything could make Wade Ericson more attractive, but his sudden attachment to an abandoned baby definitely did the trick. Ugh, why did she have to be so weak?
“Only if there’s someone here in Lovestruck who’s undergone official foster care training. If not, you’re out of luck,” Cap said. “And that’s assuming the social worker will even agree to try to find placement for the child here in town.”
Felicity coughed. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just remembered there’s someplace I need to be.”
Both men frowned in her direction.
“You mean the living nativity?” Wade said.
“Don’t worry about that.” Cap shook his head. “I spoke to the mayor and told her it would need to be postponed because Wade had to go out on an emergency.”
“No, I don’t mean that. It’s something else.” Felicity gathered the baby in her arms. He squeezed his little hands into fists, as if in protest, and hot tears stung her eyes again, clouding her vision. “I just need to go. Right now.”
She offered Wade the tiny bundle, begging silently for him to take it.
He did, peering intently at her, face etched with concern. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to come with you?”
She shook her head. The absolute last thing she needed was baby-loving hero Wade Ericson to escort her home.
Anything but that.
“I’m fine. Really. I just—” She waved a hand toward the exit. A chill wracked her body, she felt cold and hot at the same time, and panic clawed at her from the inside out.
This is it, she thought. Fight or flight.
Wade took a step closer. If she didn’t get out of here right now she’d get caught up in the foster parent discussion, and she couldn’t let that happen. No way.
So in the end, Felicity chose flight. And without another word, she turned around and ran right out the door.
Chapter Three
The door banging shut behind Felicity felt like a punch to Wade’s gut. He wasn’t sure why, but he got the distinct feeling he’d just done something wrong.
Very, very wrong.
But he had no clue what it could possibly have been. He’d been on the receiving end of plenty of door slams in his bachelor life, and usually he had a good idea what he’d done to deserve them. No such luck this time.
“That was an oddly abrupt departure.” Cap frowned in the direction of the closed door. “Did I miss something?”
“I think we both did,” Wade said. But he couldn’t begin to unpack the myriad of social cues he’d apparently missed where Felicity was concerned, because the tiny baby boy in his arms was beginning to wake up.
He blinked big blue eyes up at Wade, and even though Wade was fairly certain two-week-old infants weren’t capable of focusing at such a young age, an immense vulnerability swept over him. He felt raw. Seen. Seen in a way he’d never quite felt before.
And then the baby’s tiny face turned pink and he began to wail.
Crap. What had possessed him to think he needed to be involved in this situation in any way? He had no clue what he was doing.
It’s going to be fine. You’re not keeping the baby. You just want to see for yourself that he’s properly taken care of.
Wade shifted the baby from one arm to the other and did his best to emulate the rocking motion Felicity had used earlier while he’d been busy calling Cap. Despite the hesitancy in her expression, she’d been a natural with the infant. And, in the moments when Wade had been pretty sure she thought he wasn’t looking, she’d seemed downright entra
nced by the child. Serene. Beatific, even.
Or maybe that had just been the Virgin Mary costume talking.
Somehow, he doubted it. In any event, she was gone now, which was perfectly fine. She didn’t owe him a thing. They barely knew each other, and after all, he was the one who’d suddenly decided he couldn’t bear to send the baby off to strangers in Burlington.
“Wade.” Cap arched a brow as Wade continued trying the shoosh-bounce thing Felicity had done.
As best he could remember, it had involved a lot of rocking, combined with soft shushing sounds. Clearly, he was doing it wrong.
“Yes?” he said, just loud enough for Cap to hear him over the baby’s cries.
Cap massaged the back of his neck. The lines in his forehead seemed to be growing deeper by the second. “You’re making a valiant effort, but I don’t think bouncing around and whispering hush are going to cut it.”
“Oh.” Wade’s heart sank a little. He’d realized his little baby dance wasn’t making much of a difference, but having those suspicions confirmed by an outside party didn’t feel great. He needed some sort of manual. Or better yet, a miracle. “Should I sing instead?”
He couldn’t think of a proper lullaby off the top of his head, so he launched into an admittedly off-key version of “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round,” replacing the word bus with fire truck. As one does.
Cap covered his face, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. Which made exactly one person in the room who was entertained. The baby was still decidedly unimpressed.
Cap shook his head. “Good grief, please stop.”
Wade clamped his mouth shut. The infant kept on fussing. Other than being worried about the child’s well-being, Wade didn’t really mind the crying. It was more of a loud mewing than an outright roar, sort of like a lion cub testing out his lungs.
He arched a brow at Cap. “What’s wrong with my singing?”
“In a word?” Cap snorted. “Everything.”
