Santa's Special Delivery

“It’s a she,” Lori corrected. She’d found she couldn’t continue calling the baby a “him” when she’d changed her first diaper. She carefully lifted the babe and turned to sit down on the edge of the bed. Rocking automatically, she murmured softly and cradled the child against her. The baby immediately stopped crying.

If the past couple of hours had proved anything, they proved she had to trust someone. She’d thought she’d have an hour or two before the helpless being, who depended on her completely, woke again. Time to think. Time to figure out how to get more diapers. The baby was wearing the last one included in the surprise package this morning.

“It isn’t my baby,” she managed to whisper.

His back went ramrod straight. Those wonderful brown eyes sharpened. The light behind them said his mind worked quickly. They narrowed and directed suspicion at her. He was drawing the wrong conclusions!

“I didn’t steal her,” she protested.

His eyes widened. “You’re keeping her for a friend?”

“Sort of,” she prevaricated, unable to meet his gaze. “I found her. Outside my door. In that big box in the living room,” she added.

“With the note.” Understanding was beginning to dawn.

She rose, coming across the room carefully to protect the child from jolts. The tiny eyelids had fluttered closed again. The delicate mouth puckered and moved in the same motion the baby girl used to drink from her bottle. Maybe the infant would sleep for a while if Lori just continued to hold her.

The visitor seemed stunned. Speechless.

Lori jerked her head toward the light streaming down the hall from the living room. “Come on. Let’s go back out there. Will you give me some advice?”

He stepped aside, waiting for her to lead.

Lori eased down onto the edge of the couch. This time, he didn’t sit down beside her. Mr. McAllister stood before her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black trousers, ruining the elegant line of his impressive tuxedo.

He was the first one to speak. “When did you find her?”

“’Bout seven-thirty this morning.”

“You haven’t called the authorities?”

“I haven’t told anyone. Except you now,” she added. She wanted to be honest with him. Surely the what-you-get-out-is-only-as-good-as-what-you-put-in- rule applied to lawyers as well as computers. Truth was the only way she could expect to get good advice, wasn’t it?

“Why?”

“At first, I didn’t have time. I was occupied trying to figure out how to take care of her.” She realized she was still whispering. She cleared her throat. “Then I wasn’t sure who to call, what authority. And, by the time I could, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call anyone. That’s when I left the note for you.”

His lips compressed in a solid, uncompromising line over those perfect white teeth. She glanced quickly away from him.

“Ms. Warren, you need to give me a retainer.”

That brought her attention back.

“Are you hiring me?” he asked. His face looked carved out of stone. “If you are, you need to give me some money.”

There was an urgency in his voice, something she couldn’t ignore but didn’t understand. Greed? Irritation set in so fast she had to consciously hold on to her temper and remind herself she didn’t want to wake the baby. He didn’t look nearly as good as he had a minute ago. She focused on keeping her voice calm. “Can you bill me? I just want a little bit of advice. I wanted—”

“Lady, if you’re hiring me,” he interrupted, “do it. Now.”

So much for the rave reviews she’d heard from various elderly neighbors about the nice lawyer who’d moved into the complex. No advice without money, huh? She resented his obvious conclusion that she wanted free advice. Couldn’t he bill her after the fact if there was a charge? One of the things she’d pondered at the back of her mind all day was whether she could afford a baby. She was living—barely—to the hilt of her income now. She would have to cut expenses somewhere, probably first by finding a less expensive apartment. She hadn’t considered legal expenses.

She lifted her chin. “I don’t know where I put my purse,” she said, looking around. It wasn’t on the kitchen counter where she usually set it. She’d been on her way out the door when she found the baby. She didn’t think she’d touched it since then.

“This it?” He spotted it on the floor beside the arch leading to the foyer just as her gaze landed there. He lifted it and handed it across to her.

“Thanks.” She juggled to open the wallet with one hand, then finally placed the open purse on the coffee table in front of her.

“Here, let me take the kid,” he offered. In a second, before Lori could think about it, the child was in his arms. He plopped the infant against his shoulder, bracing her nonchalantly with one arm. Lori resented his casual confidence with the baby as much as she resented his greed. Life really wasn’t fair.

“How much?” she asked stiffly, withdrawing two twenties from her wallet.

“Write me a check,” he replied absently. “That would be better.”

“Very well.” She got out her checkbook and pen. “How much? Will a hundred do? You can always bill me if it’s more,” she felt compelled to add.

“Fifty should do it,” he said. He patted the child as though he was an old hand at knowing what a baby needed. She looked smaller than ever compared to his hand. He glanced at his watch and grimaced as she handed him the check. He stuffed it in his pants pocket without looking at it. “Thanks.”

She would swear the sigh he emitted was one of relief. She held out her arms for the child.

“Let me take care of her for a few minutes,” he offered again, adding gently, “You look exhausted. Sit down. Take your time. I’ll hold the young‘un while you concentrate on telling me what you want me to do.”

“Isn’t that what I just hired you for? To tell me what I should do?” She couldn’t keep the indignation out of her voice.

“No, ma’am.” His soft chuckle surprised, then warmed her. “You hired me to keep us out of trouble.”

So many questions popped into her head she couldn’t begin to vocalize even one of them. Damn, he looked good, gazing at her with that devilish, killer smile—a direct contrast to the picture he made with the tiny baby against his broad chest.

“I have a feeling I’m about to see a crime committed,” he continued.

Her frown grew.

“If you’re going to admit to committing one, don’t you want our relationship covered by attorney/client privilege?”

“What crime?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure,” he said. “Kidnapping’s the closest thing I can think of.”

“I didn’t kidnap her. She was left on my doorstep.”

“Like I said, I don’t know specifically what law you’re breaking, but I’m confident that it’s illegal to find someone’s baby and just keep it. Am I right in guessing that’s your plan?”

“That’s what I want you to do. Tell me how to keep her. Legally,” she added.

“You found her this morning?” he asked, scowling as he ran a hand through his thick dark hair.

“Yes.”

“And you know you want to keep her? Some stranger’s baby? A baby you can’t be sure doesn’t have something wrong with her? Do you want her if she’s a crack baby or has AIDS or something?”

She looked at the child and silently prayed that she was healthy and normal. But even if she wasn’t perfect, it didn’t make a difference. It was something Lori hadn’t thought of, but she’d take care of the tiny child, she thought fiercely. “Yes,” she said again.

“What if the mother should change her—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, impatiently interrupting him. Maybe if the lawyer would quit looking at her with that subtle glimmer in his gaze, she could concentrate. “I want to keep her.”

“Then, first things first.” He moved easily to the end table, his movements not hampered at all by the baby. “We’ll call the police, make a report and then we’ll start the process of getting you appointed as her foster parent or guardian.”

She moved faster than she had all day. “No.” Her fingers closed over his as he started to lift the phone. His startled look had her withdrawing her hand quickly.

The tiny child stirred against his chest and began the thing with her mouth again. The motion tugged at Lori, sucking out and exposing a vein of protectiveness she didn’t know lay under the thick skin she’d worked so hard to develop. Lori resisted the urge to touch the baby. She probably couldn’t do it without touching him again.

“As an officer of the court, I’m obligated to report criminal acts,” he said softly. “If you hadn’t retained me as your lawyer, I’d be reporting this abandoned child right now. And as your attorney that’s what I advise.”

An officer of the court. The very words set her on edge, stiffened her spine and made her move away from him. Money had never been as well spent as the check she’d just written. It bound him and defined him as her advocate. He couldn’t do anything contrary to her wishes.

“Do this right, Lori Warren,” he urged. “Report her to the authorities, then neither of us has to worry. I’ll do my utmost to guarantee you’re appointed her guardian.”

“That’s the problem. You can’t guarantee anything.” His brown eyes held steady on her, making her want to smooth her hair, rearrange her clothing. “Can you?” she tacked on the challenge.

“I’m very good at what I do.”

“Then I’m glad I hired you.” She had to be the one to break their visual connection. She focused on the baby. “But do you know where this baby would be right now if I’d called the police this morning?”

He frowned. “In foster care?”

She nodded. “By now maybe, but in the meantime, she would have spent the day being passed around frantic offices at the police station or social service agencies.”

“By now, she’d be in a home,” he said.

“With four or five other foster children and maybe an additional child or two of the family’s,” she said dryly. “lfiose are the kinds of places willing to take children in an emergency and at a moment’s notice like this.” She glanced at her watch. “And right about now, if the foster mother is any good, all of those children will be clamoring for her attention while the poor frazzled woman is trying to fix dinner.”

“And if she’s not a good foster parent?”

“The children are trying to stay out of the way and beneath anyone’s notice.” Lori made the mistake of looking at him again.

His brows lowered, matching the mouth that slanted in a concerned frown. “You’re speaking from experience? You’ve lived in foster homes?” They were questions but his voice said he knew the answer. His eyes darkened with sympathy.

She raised her chin a smidge. “I survived. The system made me strong.” She crossed the couple of feet that separated them and held out her empty arms. “That doesn’t mean it has to be that way for this little one. Not if I can help it,” she added determinedly as he handed the sleeping child over.

She tried to imitate the manner in which he’d cradled the helpless little girl—one-armed, between his neck and chest. She found herself leaning so far backward to compensate, she was afraid she’d pitch over. She gave up the attempt.

“Are you going to just keep calling her Baby or Little One?” he asked with an amused smile that turned into a thoughtful frown. “I’m surprised her mother didn’t give her a name in the note.”

Lori had been so busy trying to take care of the child, she hadn’t thought about it. Of course, the baby needed a name. She felt inadequate all over again. “Any suggestions?”

He lifted a shoulder. “The logical choice would be Jane,” he said. “That’s what the authorities would be calling her. As in Jane Doe? That’s what they call every female they don’t have a name for,” he added.

Jane Doe was as generic as Baby and reminded Lori of dead bodies in a TV movie. The thought validated Lori’s decision not to report her to anyone. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would call someone alive that. She shuddered. “I’m not calling her Baby Jane Doe.”

“Maybe Rose?” he suggested. “You know, like a Christmas rose. You found her blooming at your door?”

Lori peered at the child. Her nosed crinkled in the habitual response she’d been trying to break ever since one of her foster mothers had pointed out that the frown would eventually cause wrinkles. She commanded her face to relax. “She doesn’t look like a Rose to me.”

“I think it’s too early to tell,” Andy said.

She glanced at him to catch the smile in his voice. “A name does seem like such an important thing. I should have thought of it.”

He met her eyes in that direct way he had and his grin faded. “Whatever name you choose, it probably won’t stick,” he warned. He’d moved and was standing much too close. “In all likelihood—” he cleared his throat “—you are going to lose this child eventually, Lori. At least for a while. Are you certain you don’t want to call the police now? Before you get too attached?”

“It’s too late.” His logic grated at her practical side, the side she tried to use when dealing with life in general. Unfortunately, even that commonsense side of her had deserted her today. She felt much too sensitive, too tender. She felt herself going on the defensive. “I can handle it,” she said. “Besides, you are going to help me. You’re very good at what you do. Remember?”

“I remember.” He touched her cheek, then stiffened and dropped his hand to his side. “But I’d be a lousy lawyer if I didn’t advise you of the probabilities.”

“I know. And I do appreciate it.” The baby was an excellent excuse to move away from him, around him. “I think she’s wet,” she commented.

“Can I get you a diaper?” he offered.

“Oh, no.” She closed her eyes. “This is the last one. I forgot. I have to...I need...” She let her shoulders droop and started over. “Since you came here in that monkey suit, I know you didn’t come here to spend the evening but...”

He winced as if the reminder was painful and checked his watch. She suspected whatever function he was supposed to attend was important. “I thought this would be something minor,” he explained. “Something that would take ten minutes, but you just hired me as your attorney and I—”

“It’s obvious you have other plans,” she interrupted. “I’m grateful that you came at all. You must be anxious to get...wherever. But could you stay, maybe spare ten minutes more?” she pleaded, feeling guilty even as she asked. “With the baby? So I can run to the store and get more stuff to feed her and some diapers? I’ll hurry. I promise. I don’t know what else to do. It’s cold out and...and—”

“Let me go to the store for you.” He held up a hand. “It’ll be quicker.” He checked his watch again. “Believe me,” he added with a whimsical lift of his eyebrows, “this has been much more interesting than the cocktail hour I’m missing. I’ll get your things and still manage to make my appearance at the dinner. That’s the important thing.”

She nodded and reached for her purse.

“The diapers and formula are my treat.” He grabbed his coat from the end of the couch where he must have put it when he followed her to the bedroom. “What kind of formula did her mother leave?”

Lori hurried to get an empty can from the kitchen garbage. “Mr. McAllister...” she started as she handed it to him.

“Call me Andy.” His dark eyes sparkled. “Might be better under the circumstance, don’t you think?”

All day, she’d pictured the “Mr. McAllister” that people around the complex had talked about as a stern, older, fatherly, serious lawyer type. That image definitely did not fit this man. She felt her face grow hot, remembering her daydreams outside the apartment complex’s exercise room. She prayed he couldn’t read her thoughts now.

“I appreciate...” She shook her head, knowing she had to concentrate on what she was saying if she wanted to express her feelings adequately. She failed. “I do appreciate everything you’re doing for us, Andy.”

“How could I resist?” he asked softly. His gaze felt as physical as the hand he had. rested on the baby’s back. His subtle cologne wafted over to Lori. “I won’t have but a minute when I bring back the diapers but I’ll come back later, after the dinner, if you’d like. Will you and the baby be all right until then?”

She nodded with more certainty than she’d felt all day.

His thumb teased the corner of her mouth. “Smile. We will get through this.” He winked, then raised his hand in a salute.

Lori watched the door close behind him. Speechless, confused by the crazy, erratic variety of emotions that had washed, one after another, over her all day, she stood rooted to the spot and experienced a whole new set of emotions.

She’d spent all her life trying to gain independence and become self-reliant. She’d finally achieved what she’d been striving for: she could say with confidence that she needed no one.

One tiny baby left at her door—someone who needed her—and suddenly, she was back where she’d started from. She needed and had to depend on someone else. She should find the thought abhorrent. She didn’t. She was eager to accept help, she excused her optimistic feelings toward the man offering it, because of the baby.

She stroked the tiny head so near her own. She placed a soft kiss where her fingers had just been. “We’ll take all the help we can get, won’t we?” she whispered.

The baby wiggled her nose and snuggled closer.

“Now,” Lori said, going back to the couch to sit down, “all we have to do is figure out how to take care of you. I have a feeling Mr. Flop-You-Around-Like-He-Knows-What-He’s -Doing McAllister will be helpful there, too.”

Even though they hadn’t resolved a thing, the crushing burden she’d carried around all day felt lighter. And she hadn’t cried like an idiot for at least half an hour. Lori sighed and relaxed.

He’d promised to come back later.

CHAPTER TWO

ANDY drove away from the governor’s house, torn between despair that he’d done serious damage to his chances for the appointment by not making it to the cocktail party and anxiety to get back to the woman and the baby. Lori Warren was obviously clueless about taking care of a baby.

Which is why you should call the authorities.

He ignored the voice. Lori had taken care of the baby all day without anything disastrous happening. They’d be all right until he checked in on them again.

The voice refused to be silenced. That’s hormones talking if I’ve ever heard them, it mocked him. You liked the look of her, so you’re justifying taking a retainer from her instead of convincing her to call the police.

Andy smiled to himself. Okay. That would have been the logical thing.

But he’d seen those big red-rimmed green eyes and felt the urge to play Superman to her damsel-in-distress. He’d watched the distressed ditz who’d opened the door to him turn into a totally absorbed, frantically protective tigress, just because a baby cried.

He could still picture her kneeling in the middle of her bed, concern marring her perfect face. She’d unwrapped the child, examining her carefully from head to toe before cautiously picking her up and cradling her next to her breast. He’d rarely felt so moved...or as envious of some unknown man he’d believed to be the missing piece of a threesome. He was certain he’d never seen such undisguised love as he watched from Lori’s bedroom door. And as soon as he’d learned the facts, he’d felt as fiercely protective of Lori as she’d acted toward the tiny baby who wasn’t even hers.

He shook his head as he turned into the entrance of the apartment complex.

White fairy lights decorated every tree and bush across the well-manicured grounds, looking elaborately festive but lacking in any direct hint of Christmas. His shoes echoed hollowly on the concrete as he made his way toward his building.

Disastrous, Andy defined the evening. Totally disastrous. From the minute he’d been admitted by the governor himself and escorted to the room where the rest of the guests were sitting down to dinner, to the moment he’d left, he’d endured the longest evening of his life. He should have stayed with Lori.

Andy tried to ignore the sinking feeling that by missing the cocktail party—and the little chat the governor had hinted he’d hoped to have during it—he’d eliminated himself from contention for the judicial appointment.

It didn’t matter, he thought as he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. He wasn’t a serious contender anyway, Andy’d been warned. The governor had a strong traditional streak. He liked to appoint older, bedrock-of-the-community-type judges who were solid family men. He had no way of knowing Andy had the strong traditional leanings but none of the trappings.

One thought renewed his optimism as he loosened his tie and threw his “monkey suit” on the bed. The governor wasn’t expected to make a decision until late January, so Andy might have another chance to make a better impression.

Andy still had a chance.

It was almost midnight when Andy showed up at her door again. He knocked softly.

This time, the baby wasn’t asleep and didn’t look like she had any intention of going soon.

Lori’s newly hired attorney looked weary, she decided, inviting him in. Tiny stress lines decorated the corners of his eyes. She hadn’t noticed those before.

He’d changed his clothes. How could a man look as good in worn, comfortable-looking jeans as he did in a tux? she wondered. Revealing muscular forearms, he pushed the sleeves of his loose sweater up to his elbows as he sauntered past her into the small living room. “It’s awfully warm in here,” he commented.

“I don’t want the baby to get cold.” She gestured toward the baby seat she’d wedged into one end of the couch. “She’s awake,” she added unnecessarily.

The baby lay there, mostly staring off into space but occasionally kicking or flopping her arms up and down.

“Babies are comfortable if you are,” he said.

“Oh? How do you know?”

He shrugged, frowning slightly. “Common knowledge, I guess. I don’t know where I heard it,” he added. “I just know it’s true.”

“I’ll turn down the heat,” she offered thankfully. She’d seriously been considering putting on shorts and a tank top if she ever got around to changing out of her cranberry-colored suit. As it was, she’d taken off the jacket and the hose as a concession to the heat.

When she returned to the living room, he’d settled beside the tiny girl and was softly talking to her. “Do you have your days and nights turned around, Baby?”

The tiny head turned toward Andy’s low voice and she seemed fascinated. That makes two of us, Lori thought.

As if aware of her watching him from the doorway, Andy looked up and smiled. Amazingly, he didn’t seem the least bit self-conscious to be caught talking baby talk—another reason to like him. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to figure out what you want me to do?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “Like I said, I want to keep her.”

“For always?”

“For as long as she needs me to protect her.” Lori faced him less warily. “I think that’s for always, don’t you? I’d like to adopt her.”

He frowned. “That might be difficult since you don’t have a birth certificate or any kind of parental release.”

She came around the end of the coffee table and gazed at the little sweetheart. “And the state or social services do?” she asked, a touch of sarcasm slipping in.

“They have a way to get them.” His patience didn’t seem to run out.

“Yeah, they just declare whatever they want to be so. That’s what I want you to do for me. Make them declare it ‘so’ for me.”

“I wish it were that easy.” He moved the baby seat from the end of the couch to the middle so she could sit down.

“Then that’s what we have to do,” she said, sagging onto the space he’d made for her. “We’ll find her mother. We’ll get a parental release.”

The slow smile he gave her made her heart pick up a beat. “You make it sound easy.”

“I...” She lifted one shoulder. Her throat tightened and her pulse continued to race erratically. “I know who the mother is,” she defended her idea.