Bundle of Joy

“I figured as much.”

She looked up to find him staring at her. Or, more accurately, straight into her—as though he were searching for something she wanted to keep covered up.

He settled the still sleeping child back into the basket. Shelby reached out to pull the top blanket up over the baby. He did the same.

Their hands brushed. The warmth of his callused palm eased through her chilled fingers.

This time she did not yank away, but let her hand flit from the blanket to the baby’s soft curls and on to its soft, plump cheek. “If you don’t mind, I was just going to tuck the baby in and say a little prayer for...the baby...and for whoever left the baby here.”

He nodded. “That’s kind of you. I’m more than a little ashamed that I didn’t think to offer that myself.”

That caught her off guard. “You want to join me in a prayer?”

“For the child, yes, ma’am, I would. I don’t know if I can be so gracious toward the one who walked off and left her....” He bowed his head and shut his eyes, then opened them once again to nail Shelby with a look as he added, “Or him.”

Shelby took a deep breath, acknowledged both the remark and the reservations they both still held for one another with a curt nod. “All right, then...”

“Jackson Stroud.” He held his hand out.

“Shelby Grace Lockhart.” She gave his hand a quick, firm shake and, just before she let her hand slip from his, added in a soft whisper, “Jax.”

The use of the name he had first given her seemed to hit home with him. It appeared to set him off his game for a split second before he nodded to her and bowed his head.

She bowed her head, too, but she did not close her eyes. Instead she focused her gaze on the compelling face of this innocent, seemingly unwanted child as she prayed.

“Every creature matters to you, Lord. Everyone is loved. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that none of us is ever truly alone when we feel lost. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to do and who to trust. Please, Lord, help me...help us...to show your love to this newcomer. And through it all, let us not forget your mercy for whoever found themselves in a place where they thought it best to leave this precious one here tonight. We place them and ourselves in your loving hands. Amen.”

“Amen,” he murmured.

“Amen? Y’all holding a revival in here or something?” Tyler came striding in with his phone in one hand and earbuds swinging in his other with every step. “The store is all locked up tight. Sheriff Denby just pulled up outside.”

Shelby spun around to face Tyler, her heart pounding. A mix of panic and embarrassment swirled through her at the idea of being seen praying with this man, whom she had met only moments ago and clearly had no reason to fully trust.

“Just another hard luck case for Shelby Grace,” she could imagine folks saying. Someone else who would fill her head with promises and her heart with hope, when anyone else with any sense would know it was all a lie or a dream. Shelby had had her fill of that. That was why she had been headed out of town tonight. Slipping away after her last shift, leaving nothing but a note to explain that it was time she started over in a place where she wasn’t known as softhearted Shelby. That was the best way to make an exit from the Crosspoint Café once and for all.

Of course, now that exit would have to wait. She tucked the note into the old backpack she’d had since she was a teen, and looked for something to keep her busy. “I’ll make coffee.”

“You think this will take long?” Jax called out as she hurried off. “I have plans.”

“I hope those plans include watching the baby for the next few minutes, while I do this.” Shelby dove into the task, grabbing a bright red plastic container from a shelf above the coffeemaker.

“Trust her, man. If anyone knows how to get around the old guys in town, it’s Shelby Grace.” Tyler took a seat at the long service counter and began swiveling back and forth on a stool.

“That so?” Jackson Stroud studied her through those piercing, narrowed eyes once again. He might have looked menacing if not for the fact that the whole time he kept one hand protectively on the side of the basket, making sure the baby didn’t wriggle it off the tabletop.

“You want to get this done quickly? Then coffee is the only way to go.” Shelby pulled out the carafe and held it up like she was filming a commercial for it.

The mysterious cowboy just scoffed.

She set the carafe down hard.

He tipped his head to her, as if to say he would bow to her expertise.

That small triumph buoyed her movements as she got out the filter and opened the container. With the rich aroma of coffee filling her nose, she tipped out a spoonful of grounds and said, “Sheriff Denby is not a young man. It’s late. The least we can do for him is have some coffee waiting so he can tackle this case with a clear head.”

“Clear head? That may be hoping for a bit much,” Tyler joked.

“I was supposed to retire over a year ago.” The familiar booming voice of Sheriff Andrew Denby—Sheriff Andy to the locals—echoed in the café as he appeared in the doorway. “But they can’t find a replacement willing to work my hours for the amount the county budget can afford to pay. Nights like this, I don’t wonder if I’ll ever retire. Who are you?”

Jax held his hand out to the man, but his expression remained reserved. “Jackson Stroud. I found the basket.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff Andy, but this couldn’t be helped.” Shelby poured water in the machine, flipped it on, then turned to find the older man peering down into the basket on the table.

“It’s not just a do-nothing job, you know.” The sheriff spoke directly to Jackson Stroud, who nodded politely. “We get our share of excitement coming in off the highway. Anyone they hire needs to be a diplomat to work with the town council, a stickler to meet state and county regs, a detective and apparently—” he reached in, lifted the baby up and gave a sniff “—a diaper changer.”

“Oh, Sheriff, let me take care of that.” Shelby rushed forward.

“You pour the coffee. This ol’ grandpa knows which end is which.” The sheriff gathered baby and clean diaper and headed for the restroom, calling over his shoulder, “So no idea who the parents are? No clues? No note?”

“Nothing.” Shelby set the coffee down.

“She had a note.” Jax eyed her. “And a backpack full of stuff on her way out the door after closing up early. If you look at her face, you’ll find she’s been crying.”

The sheriff reentered the room. He, Tyler and Jax all locked their gazes on her at once.

Shelby felt as if she’d been slapped. “What? You can’t possibly have seen all that.”

Sheriff Denby slipped into the restroom without any further response.

“I don’t know how you do police work around here, but some people might call that a clue.” Jax raised his voice to make sure the sheriff heard.

“Yeah? Well, around here, it’s what we call besmirching a good woman’s reputation!” Shelby came around the counter, her pace underscoring the quick clip of her irritation at what this total stranger seemed determined to pin on her. “I may be a soft touch. I may have wasted most of my life waiting for my father’s dreams of raising quarter horses to pay off so he could buy us this café like he promised. I may even have thrown away three of my twenty-eight years thinking Mitch Warner would stop running around with other girls and settle down with me, but...” Her voice broke. Her heart pounded. She had never admitted all of that out loud to anyone. Pouring it out to Jackson Stroud left her feeling vulnerable but justified when she jerked her head high and concluded, “I am not the kind of girl who would have a child without being married and if I were a mother. Let me assure you, I’d never leave him or her. I’d do anything in my power to protect my baby...”

“It’s a girl.” Round-faced Sheriff Denby appeared with the freshly diapered infant and handed her to Shelby.

“Surprise, surprise.” Jax cocked his head and crossed his arms. “No chance you knew that already?”

Shelby sighed and shook her head at the implication in his question.

“And her name is Amanda,” the sheriff went on. “At least that’s what it says in fancy stitching on the corner of this blanket she was wrapped up in.”

“Hand-stitched, huh?” Jax looked at the corner of the blanket, then at Shelby’s decorated backpack. “Any flowers on it?”

“You have got to be kidding.” Shelby couldn’t help but laugh as she spoke to baby Amanda to get her point across to everyone. “This guy thinks I’m your mother, sweet pea.”

“Shelby Grace? A mama?” Sheriff Denby snorted out a laugh that someone else might have taken as an insult. “No way could she have had a baby and kept it a secret around here. Maybe somebody could have, but not her. We all know her story.”

“I don’t,” Jax said in a soft tone that bordered on dangerous—but also carried interest.

“This ain’t about you.” Sheriff Denby moved to the counter, picked up the coffee carafe and flipped over a cup on the counter. But he didn’t pour. “This is about Shelby Grace.”

“Right. We agree on that, at least.” Jax adjusted his hat, and the movement came off as a kind of sly tip of congrats to the sheriff for being on his side.

“What do you mean? About me how?” Shelby cradled the baby higher in her arms, but that did nothing to temper the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Everybody in town knows your story, Shelby Grace. We all know about your daddy, about that Mitch. Some of us even know that you broke your lease and packed up all your belongings today.”

“Huh?” Tyler glanced up and blinked. “You moving, Miz Shelby?”

“I don’t know your story, Miss Lockhart, but I do know that that’s an interesting development.”

People were not supposed to find out this way, not by hearing it couched in supposition and gossip, and certainly not before her father. “It doesn’t matter, Tyler. None of this has anything to do with me and—”

“Hold that thought right there, young lady.” Sheriff Denby flipped a waiting coffee mug over on the counter and helped himself to a steaming hot cup. “There is a more than passing fair chance that whoever left that baby on the doorstep, when you were here closing up all by your lonesome, left her here for you to find.”

“Makes sense to me.” Jax turned toward the door, then looked at Tyler. “You said someone tried to steal gas from the station tonight. Did they happen to be driving a silver SUV?”

“Uh, no. Actually, when I looked up and saw a faded red Mustang slide up to the pump, I thought it was Mitch come to see Miz Shelby. So I stopped paying attention until they took off fast. That’s when I thought maybe they’d filled up and run off without paying, but turns out their credit card had been denied and they didn’t get a drop.”

“Mitch?” Jax leaned one elbow on the counter, gave Shelby a hard look, then glanced at the baby. “Any particular reason this Mitch might have come by tonight and not hung around to talk to you face-to-face? He a friend of yours?”

“An ex...friend,” Shelby said, oddly defensive in this man’s presence. Still, she searched the baby’s face for any similarity to Mitch, who she had forgiven more than once for cheating on her.

The man stared her down with an expression that made her feel he knew all about Mitch and his cheating ways, though that would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?

“This Mitch wouldn’t be the kind of ex-friend who might think you’d be a good person to raise his child, would he?” Jax asked, sounding far too matter-of-fact for that kind of question.

“The last thing Mitch Warner would have wanted was to be a daddy,” Sheriff Denby snorted.

Shelby tucked the baby in closer, as if that might conceal how strongly her heart was beating at the very idea that Mitch might have done something like this. “Of course, we are conveniently overlooking the possibility that the baby was left by someone who doesn’t even know me. Someone we don’t know, for that matter.”

“Like me?” The man with the cool eyes and the quick smile cocked his head at her.

“I’m just saying that we all know one another around here. You just showed up.” At the worst time. Or maybe the best, if he had no connection to tiny Amanda. “Tonight, of all nights.”

“You want to know who I am, Miss Shelby Grace Lockhart? I’m a man who served four years with the Greater Dallas police force.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet, glanced down at it, grimaced slightly and put it back. “At least I used to. Now I’m, for all intents and purposes, homeless and unemployed for the next couple of weeks.”

He gave her a wistful smile that hinted he expected her to find that notion so preposterous, she would have to laugh. She didn’t know whether to smile or shake her head at that.

He nodded at her nonresponse. “You got me. I’m pretty much the most likely suspect in your child abandonment scenario.”

“Yup.” Andy Denby set the coffee cup down on the counter without a drop ever going in his mouth. “Not trying to be punitive. Got to consider what’s right and best for little Amanda. My wife is the town’s only physician, so it makes sense we get the child to my house to be checked over.”

“So that means...” Jax narrowed his eyes and held out his hands like a man waiting to carry out an order.

“That makes it official. This is a case. I’ll call in what details we have tonight, see if there are missing children reports that might be connected. Whatever else needs to be done can wait till morning.” The sheriff turned to grab a to-go cup and poured his untouched coffee into it as he half spoke, half yawned. “C’mon, Shelby Grace. The old doc will be tickled pink to have you and that little one stay with us for the night.”

“Stay? In Sunnyside?” Her mind raced. She had planned to be long gone by morning, to have begun a whole new life. “Can’t you just take the baby and...”

“And what?” Sheriff Denby took the emptied ceramic cup around behind the counter and disappeared long enough to bend down and drop it in the dirty dishpan. He motioned to her, then to her backpack. “Allow you to leave town before we get statements and figure out what’s best for little Amanda?”

Shelby held her breath. How had the sheriff known she was fleeing town tonight? Had she been that obvious? She turned to Jackson Stroud, as if she actually hoped that somehow he would spring to her rescue. That was his style, right? If he was telling the truth, that he had come over to save a basket he thought held kittens, then why wouldn’t he save her?

The man in the Stetson stepped forward. “So that’s it? I can get back on my way, then?”

Cowboys. Shelby let out a huff. You couldn’t trust them, at least not to do anything but think of their own hides.

“Absolutely...not.” The sheriff put the lid on his to-go cup with a soft click. “It’s late. I can’t call around to find somebody to put you up, so I’m asking nice. Will you just bunk at the Truck Stop Inn for the night so we can sort this out with clear heads tomorrow morning?”

“I can let you in.” Tyler started toward the back of the building, motioning. “It ain’t fancy, but there’s a couple rooms with cots and a shower that we rent out to truckers by the night.”

“Tell Miss Delta to bill the department for it.” Sheriff Denby clapped his hands together, then motioned for Shelby to hurry up and get her things together. “As of now, this is an official investigation. I’ll thank you not to leave town, Stroud, until after we speak again.”

“I was only joking about being homeless and unemployed. I have a job waiting for me in Miami. I was on my way there tonight to find a place to live and get the lay of the land before I start work.” Jax followed behind Tyler. “I can’t stay here indefinitely. I have—”

Denby gave the stranger a hard look that cut him right off. But when the man got even with the sheriff, it did not escape Shelby’s keen eye that the older man added something to the conversation that made the wandering cowboy’s wide shoulders stiffen. He glanced back at Shelby and the baby.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment.

Then Jax nodded to no one in particular and said, “I guess I can spare some time. But as soon as I have nothing more to offer this case, I need to get on my way.”

Chapter Three

Jax rolled onto his side. The whole framework of the old cot creaked. When he’d climbed between the scratchy, bleached brilliant white sheets last night, he hadn’t expected to get much sleep. He thought he would never get comfortable or be able to quiet his mind after the day’s events. But the minute his head had hit the pillow, the prayer he had shared with Shelby had come echoing back to him, and a sweet peace had washed over him. The next thing he knew, the dim light of the new day was creeping through the crack where the shade did not quite meet the windowsill.

He checked his cell phone for the time and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Head bowed, he rubbed his fists into his eyes. Tyler had said that both the café and the convenience mart opened at six in the morning. That meant, he calculated, he had twenty-five minutes to get ready for...

For what? A few hours ago, his course had been set. If you’d asked him then, he’d have told you without hesitation that he’d be in Miami this morning. He’d be scouting out apartments, looking over the exclusive gated community where, on the first of next month, he’d start his job as head of security. Now he didn’t even know what to expect beyond getting up and getting dressed.

That his lack of control in this new situation didn’t have him on edge was not like him at all. Jax was a man always one step ahead of everyone else. He pressed his eyes shut tightly. For a moment he considered praying for guidance, but in the end he decided what he really needed was determination. He set his own way, and his way was toward Miami before the end of the day.

He sighed as the peace of last night turned into a weight pressing down on his shoulders. That weight did not lift as he cleaned up with the toiletries Tyler had gathered for him last night. He’d feel better if he could put on clean clothes, but that would have to wait until he reached Florida tonight.

He walked into the Shoppers’ Emporium part of the building in time to see the spectacular sunrise over the wide-open Texas landscape, framed by a large plate-glass window. It was the loveliest thing he’d seen in a long time.

“Make that the second-loveliest thing,” he murmured to himself as Shelby Grace Lockhart suddenly stepped into view from around the corner in the parking lot. Her hair was windswept, her expression determined, and both her hands gripped the handle of a baby carrier.

“Miss Delta?” Shelby peered in with her cute little nose all but smashed against the glass. “You in there yet?”

“I’m coming. Just hold on to your—” A woman who looked to be a few years shy of sixty, with hair the color and consistency of sunburnt hay, bustled past him, then slowed. She gave him a quick once-over and cocked one penciled eyebrow. She paused long enough to plunk her fist on her bony hip and ask him, “Cowboy or trucker?”

“Cop,” he said, then corrected himself. “Ex-cop, that is.”

Shelby knocked on the door. “Miss Delta? I’m kind of in a hurry. You’ll never believe what happened last night.”

“And I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Delta murmured in Jax’s direction even as she pivoted and went to unlock the front door. “Shelby Grace, where did you get that sweet little fellow?”

“It’s a girl,” Shelby corrected at the exact same time the words left Jax’s lips. Their perfect timing didn’t take the edge off her pointed tone as she added, “Someone left her outside the café last night.”

Shelby gave Jax an unyielding stare. In return, Jax gave Shelby...the biggest grin he’d ever grinned. Which wasn’t saying much, since he never grinned. Or he never used to. But there he was, unable to stop himself.

“How is she doing?” he asked, his eyes on Shelby’s face.

“Doc Lovey checked her out. She’s in good shape, but a little underweight for what Doc thinks is a four-month-old.” Shelby shifted the weight of the carrier and, in doing so, got a bit off balance.

“Doc Lovely?” Jax asked as he rushed forward and scooped the carrier up out of her hands. It felt light to him. No, it wasn’t the carrier that felt light. It was him. Like that weight he had felt since plotting his getaway from here had lifted.

“Lovey. Sheriff Denby’s wife. It’s a nickname, but everyone around here calls her that.” Miss Delta tipped her head back a bit so she could give Jax another once-over, then fixed her attention on the baby in the carrier. “Lovely is what this sweet thing is. What a cutie. Who could have ever left something this precious?”

“Someone who knew they were placing their baby in good hands,” Jax said, almost under his breath. He met Shelby’s hesitant gaze and held it until she took a deep breath and smiled.

“That’s a sweet idea, I guess,” Shelby whispered.

But? She did not say it, or even hint that there was more to say, but Jax felt it. Something else was going on with Shelby Grace Lockhart. Anyone else might have prodded, peppering her with questions to find out more, but Jax knew that people’s true motivations showed in their actions, not their words. So he held his tongue and waited.

Shelby glanced over her shoulder toward the café, then down at baby Amanda in the carrier, which Jax held easily by the handle. “But I can’t...I don’t have it in me anymore to take on one more person’s broken promises.”

“Promises?” he asked softly.

“A baby left on her own in the dark of night?” Her eyes met his. Her hair swept over her shoulder as she shook her head. “If that doesn’t say someone somewhere broke a promise and now wants someone else—”

“You,” he interrupted.

“Me.” She nodded in agreement. “Now someone wants me to do what everyone knows Shelby Grace does so well. Pick up the slack. Put the pieces back together. Always be there. I just don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He wanted to speak to her of faith. Of knowing where to find strength. Of what it felt like to be a child caught in the middle of a world with no Shelby Graces in it. Instead, he swallowed his opinion and supported her with a quiet “yeah” and a nod of his head.

She shuffled her feet, then squinted toward the large window, where the sun had begun to shine in and create shadows around them.

Clearly she wanted to get moving. But where? And why? None of his business, of course. Under other circumstances, he would have let it go. He studied her profile, the curve of her cheek. The shadows under her eyes told of a sleepless night. He couldn’t let it go—not with the simple question Sheriff Denby had asked him echoing in his mind. Why Shelby Grace Lockhart?

“I can’t believe there’s nothing this little sweetheart needs,” Delta cooed as she gave the baby’s head a pat. “I’m going to go see what I can find.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Miss Delta.” Shelby raised her hand in a halfhearted attempt to slow the juggernaut that was Miss Delta of Delta’s Truck Stop Inn. “Doc Lovey got us diapers and formula from the county health department. After I help the sheriff look for any signs of who might have left the baby, I volunteered to take her to social services over in West...more...land.” Shelby’s shoulders sagged as the older woman hurried away, rattling off a list of things she wanted to gather for the baby.

“Here kind of early, aren’t you?” he finally asked. “I don’t see the sheriff anywhere around.”

“There’s something I have to do at the café before then.”

“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes. It was a simple technique to speak little and act like you expected an answer. Oftentimes people complied without even knowing why. Other times they hesitated, then felt compelled to fill the silence, usually with the very information Jax needed.

Shelby did neither. She took the carrier and settled it on the counter. In doing so, she put her back to Jax. “Delta, will you watch the baby for a few minutes? I’ll come back for her just as soon as I—”