The Baby Consultant

Jack had gone around to the trunk and was lifting out a portable crib and several other bags. Buried beneath all the items he was balancing in his grip, he came around to Frannie’s side and peered down at the baby. The child finally was quieting, its little chest catching in occasional spasms as its sobs subsided.

“How’d you do that?” he demanded. “She’s been screaming since the moment we got off the plane.”

Frannie was astonished. “You’ve been flying with her?” She realized the child was a girl as she noted his use of the feminine pronoun.

He nodded. “It’s a long story. But I’m sure you’re not interested.” He hesitated. “Could you hold her until I get the stuff out of the car and set up this crib?”

Frannie nodded.

“The thing is,” he said over his shoulder as he started for the door, “your pictures are at my office. If you can wait until tomorrow, I’ll get my secretary to deliver them personally first thing in the morning. The office has been closed—that’s why you couldn’t reach anyone.” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry. I thought I had all the loose ends tied up.”

She trailed along behind him, crooning to the baby. Her portfolio seemed less important now, and she was ashamed of her anger. Whatever he’d been doing, Jack clearly hadn’t simply neglected to get her things back to her. “That would be fine.”

Stepping through the door, she took in the expensive furniture and the lush, deep pile of the carpet. Jack had dumped a pile of baby accessories on the couch and was pulling open the portable crib. Unfortunately, it was designed like most things that were advertised as easy to set up and take down. As fast as he pushed one side into place, another snapped back up. He finally got smart and planted one enormous loafer at one end, using his upper body to stretch the two opposing sides. That left one more side to be pulled into place, and Frannie took pity on him. She walked over and got a firm grip on the rail with her free hand. “Okay, now pull,” she said.

The crib popped open and Jack stood back with a sigh. “Thanks. Why don’t you just put her down in there while I get the rest of the stuff? She’ll probably play or something until I get unpacked.”

He was kidding. She hoped. Cautiously she pointed to a mechanism on the bottom of the crib. “You need to push this down to lock it into place. Otherwise, it could fold up with her in it.”

Jack stared at the little lever. “Oh.” He reached down and secured it. “It’s a good thing you’re here.”

“Um, I hate to be a busybody, but I don’t think she’s going to be very happy if I put her down.” Frannie glanced at the baby, who wasn’t screaming anymore, but was definitely beginning to root around, banging her little head against Frannie’s sweater in a vain quest for dinner.

Jack looked dubious. “Well, I’ll take her. I guess I can unpack with one hand.”

He started to reach for the child with a distinctly apprehensive expression on his face.

“Jack.”

“What?” He paused.

She waited, but he seemed genuinely oblivious to the infant’s increasingly restless behavior. Finally she said, “I think she’s hungry.”

He smacked himself in the forehead. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? The lady on the plane said she’d probably get hungry every three or four hours.”

This was getting stranger and stranger. Frannie couldn’t imagine what Jack Ferris was doing with this baby. Clearly, he didn’t have the faintest notion of how to care for her. “How long has it been since she was changed?” she asked.

He speared one hand through his hair and Frannie realized why it was standing on end. “I don’t know. I guess since...I think one of the flight attendants changed her.”

“You think? Where is her mother, Jack?” And why on God’s green earth would she entrust her to your care!

Jack’s shoulders sagged. “Her mother is dead.” He looked at the baby. “I’m all she’s got now.”

Her mother is dead. Whatever answer she’d imagined, that one had been far, far from even making the list. Slowly, she sank down on the edge of the sofa. The weight of the baby in her arms suddenly seemed vitally warm and alive, precious and fragile. She looked down at the little girl, noting the dusting of blond hair, the flushed cheek and tiny, perfect lips.

“Do you mean you’re keeping her?” She hated to keep asking intrusive questions, but her conscience would not, absolutely could not, let her walk away from this place until she was sure the infant was being properly cared for.

Jack sat down opposite her on a wide hassock. “Yes. I’m her legal guardian, and her only living relative.” His elbows rested on his knees, and his big hands dangled between them. He dropped his head.

This puzzle didn’t have enough pieces for her to even frame it up with all the straight edges. “Is she...are you the father?”

Jack’s head shot up. “Of course not!” He glared at her.

She shrugged. “It was a logical question.” The baby was growing angry again, and she stood and rocked her. “Maybe we’d better change her and feed her.”

“Right.” He stood, too, and looked around for the diaper bag. Then he hesitated, turning back to her. “Miss Brooks—”

“Frannie.” She smiled. “Miss Brooks is too formal for someone who’s about to get spit up on.”

“You’ll stay for a while?” His face lit up so pathetically she would have laughed if the whole situation wasn’t so sad. “I don’t want to intrude if you have plans, but I need a crash course in baby care. Just the basics, until I can take her to a doctor and figure out this whole deal.”

She wanted to tell him “the basics” were a major part of a young baby’s life, but she sensed he was about at the end of his rope. “Sure. I can stay for a while.”

He was a very different man from the self-confident flirt she’d met in his office last month. While she changed the baby—whose name, Jack said, was Alexa—he brought in the rest of the things he’d stashed in the car. Then he hovered, uncertainty radiating from him like a bad sunburn, watching her mix formula, test the temperature of the liquid on her wrist and settle down on the sofa to feed Alexa.

She realized he’d gotten a yellow legal pad at some point. “Are you going to try to work tonight? Because you really need to understand that babies—”

“I’m not working.” Wearily, he plopped down beside her. “I’m taking notes on everything you did so I don’t forget it when I’m on my own.”

“There are books that can tell you this stuff,” she said gently.

He’d let his head drop back against the couch and the notes lay half-finished on his lap. “How did you learn so much about babies?”

“I have three younger brothers,” she said. “And two of them have children that I’ve helped to raise.”

His eyes were closed and she risked staring for a moment, taking in the details of his profile, the enormous hands spread over thighs that looked heavily muscled even when disguised by his khaki pants. His jaw was heavy with stubble several shades darker than his hair, as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days. It only emphasized how very masculine he was, as if she wasn’t already aware of that.

As she shifted the baby to her shoulder to burp her, her arm brushed against his. It was like brushing concrete. No, that was wrong. Concrete didn’t exude heat; concrete didn’t tempt her to touch. His arms were as toasty as if he had a furnace inside, packed in solid muscle.

He turned toward her then, and she forgot all about her speculations. He was closer than their limited acquaintance dictated, and as he put one hand against Alexa’s back, he leaned even closer. “Thank you,” he said, and she watched his lips form the words with a fascinated detachment. How would those lips feel against hers? Would his kisses be tentative, persuasive? Or was he as sure of his kissing as he was of his flirting? If so, he would be a very dangerous man.

And this was a dangerous line of thinking. One she had no intention of pursuing.

“You realize a child is going to change your life completely,” she said to him. “Are you sure there’s no one more—no one else to take her?”

“I’m sure,” he said. Although he still was turned toward her, his eyes were looking into a memory she couldn’t share, and the sudden grief in his face unnerved her.

Without thinking, she put her free hand to the side of his cheek.

Immediately he covered it with his own, closing his eyes as if to savor the contact. “Alexa is my niece,” he said. He released the pressure holding her hand in place, but turned his own and carried hers to his lap, where he played absently with her fingers. “My brother and his wife were killed in an accident.”

Frannie could see the naked sense of loss on his face. “So your brother is—was her father?” It took a determined effort of will to ignore the gentle rub of his fingers over her knuckles.

“Yeah. Randy and Gloria had been trying for a long time to start a family. They were pretty thrilled when Alexa was born.” He squeezed his eyes closed, as if to deny reality. “A tractor-trailer jackknifed and slid into them on a highway two weeks after she was born. Alexa wasn’t injured because her car seat sat so low in the back seat—the whole top half of the car was sheared off.”

Frannie stifled a small cry. Cold prickles of goose bumps spread down her arms and she shivered involuntarily. She turned her palm up and linked her fingers through his, gripping tightly. “Oh, Jack, I am so sorry. What a terrible tragedy.” The full impact of the story sank in on her as the baby on her shoulder made a funny little lip-smacking sound and she realized this child would never know her mother or father, that her uncle Jack was the only family she had.

He sighed heavily. “I’ve been stuck in Florida for almost a month, disposing of their estate and straightening out the custody arrangements for Alexa.” The small messy details of the coffee and newspaper she’d glimpsed in his kitchen through the back door made sense now. Those would have been the last things on his mind when he got that phone call.

Well, Alexa certainly could have fared worse. “She’s a lucky little girl,” she said. “I don’t know a lot of men who would willingly take on a twenty-year commitment without some serious reservations.”

“Oh,I have reservations,” Jack assured her. “You’ve seen the extent of my child-rearing skills. Alexa might not think she’s so lucky after a couple of days with me.” A trace of humor surfaced in his eyes and then he grinned. “And I don’t know the first thing about how to handle puberty and dating.”

Frannie’s opinion of Jack Ferris had risen significantly in the past hour; now it rose even more. “I was thinking more along the lines of how a baby is going to torpedo your social life. Not to mention your romantic interests.”

“Yeah, I can foresee some serious changes in my future. I may have to get married just to get some help with this.” He indicated the child, now dozing on Frannie’s shoulder.

He might have been joking, but his words struck a nerve she thought had been buried. “Why?” Her voice was crisp, reflecting the resentment that gripped her. “Women aren’t automatically programmed to be the family caretakers.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I have to be going.” With the ease of experience, she shifted the sleeping baby into Jack’s arms and set the bottle down on the coffee table. “I don’t think she’ll eat any more right now. She’s exhausted. You’d better put her down and get some sleep yourself. She’ll be hungry again in a few hours.”

“Frannie, wait.”

But she didn’t want to hear any more. Whether or not he’d meant it, she couldn’t pretend to be amused by his comment. Not when she had a vivid image of herself almost having been stuck in a loveless marriage solely for that very reason. “Relax. You’ll be fine. You wrote down everything you need to survive tonight. Tomorrow you should call the pediatrician’s office. They can recommend some parenting classes and books to help you.”

She stood and looked around for her purse, telling herself she had no reason to feel guilty. This baby wasn’t her problem. She barely knew Jack and she certainly wasn’t responsible for helping him with Alexa. He would do just fine.

Two

True to Jack’s word, Frannie’s portfolio was delivered to her first thing Monday morning by the same friendly blonde she’d seen in his office.

“I am really sorry about this,” the woman said. “Jack and I had to coordinate a number of things by phone where he got called down to Florida, and I overlooked it.”

“That’s all right. Unavoidable things happen sometimes.” Frannie hadn’t been able to continue being piqued at Jack. Not after she’d lain awake half the night thinking about how he was doing with the baby.

“Jack tells me you were a godsend on Friday evening.” The blonde smiled sympathetically. “I’ve never thought of Jack as a father in all the years we’ve been together. He certainly has his hands full.”

The woman’s words caught Frannie off guard. The way he’d flirted, charmed her last night had made her forget what kind of man he was. Anger lit a small fuse inside her He had no business flirting with her like that when he clearly had a long-term relationship with his secretary.

“It was no big deal,” she said, practically shooing the blonde out and preparing to close the door. “I’d have done the same for anybody.”

The rest of the morning she was conscious of a feeling of...disappointment nagging at her. It must be human nature to want to assume the best of someone. She’d given Jack the benefit of the doubt when she should have known better. Especially when she’d had first-hand experience with the same kind of man before.

Well, she wasn’t going to give Jack Ferris another thought. She immediately called two clients and set up appointments for them to go over the portfolio with her, then went to work on a beautiful old dress that one client’s mother had worn. The girl wanted to wear it, but unfortunately she was a bit larger than her mother. Frannie had devised twin panels of additional fabric as an insert at the waist that inconspicuously offered the necessary size adjustment. Both the bride and her mother were delighted.

In the middle of the morning, a delivery from the florist interrupted a final fitting for a girl whose wedding was the following Saturday.

“Got something here for you, Frannie,” the man called.

Rising from her knees, where she’d been fiddling with the hemline that the bride insisted had be to lengthened to accommodate the higher heels she had bought over the weekend, Frannie pushed through the swinging saloon-style doors from the fitting area.

Her regular delivery man stood in the middle of the shop, totally hidden behind a huge spray of red roses beautifully displayed with ferns and baby’s breath. His big feet in heavy work boots looked ridiculously out of place on the pale pink carpet. “You musta really impressed some fella.”

“I can’t imagine how,” Frannie replied. “They’re probably for one of my brides, though why they would have been sent here is a mystery.”

“I don’t know ’bout that,” he said. He set the arrangement down on top of a glass counter displaying a variety of ladies’ dress gloves. “It’s got your name right here.” He pointed to the address attached to the flowers before turning to leave. “You have a nice day now.”

“You, too,” Frannie said absently as she slid the small white card from its accompanying envelope.

You’re my angel. Jack.

Pleasure swept through her. An image of Jack’s face rose for an instant before the damper of reality intruded. Jack only was expressing his thanks with this too-extravagant gesture. He might have made her heart beat faster for a few hours, but that was immaterial. He was involved already. With at least one woman, she thought, remembering the phone conversation he’d been having the day she’d been shown into his office.

“Whoo-hoo! What did you have to do for those?” April, her assistant, peeked through the doors, then walked over to read the card as she bent toward the roses and inhaled deeply. “Who’s Jack? And how come florists’ roses never have any smell?”

“A little favor, a business acquaintance, and I don’t know.” Under April’s suspicious gaze, Frannie fought the urge to fidget. It was true; Jack was just an acquaintance whom she’d helped out. The roses meant nothing to him other than, “Thank you.”

And, of course, that was what they meant to her, too.

The rest of the week passed in a frantic blur. June was a big month in the bridal business; come July, the bell over the shop door probably wouldn’t ring once the whole day, but it certainly was getting a workout in June. On Friday afternoon Frannie and April were sharing a soda and nursing fingers sore from so much detailed handwork, when the door to the shop’s entry jangled yet again.

Wearily Frannie got to her feet. She would give a lot to be able to flip that sign over to Closed for the rest of the day. But they had fittings scheduled right up until they locked up that evening. With a sigh, she pushed through the doors into the shop with a smile firmly pinned in place.

She stopped dead when she saw Jack Ferris lounging against a counter, smiling at her. He was wearing a sort of backpack with Alexa snuggled into it, except that it was carried on his broad chest rather than his back. One hand patted a gentle rhythm against the spot where Alexa’s back was. It was hard to tear her gaze from the sight. The contrast between the baby’s pink, lace-edged bonnet and his big, blunt-fingered hand struck her hard in the heart.

He was wearing dun-colored slacks with a dark green knit shirt that made his eyes look silver. Or maybe it was just the light in the shop. Whatever, he looked wonderful. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath backed up in her throat for a minute. She despised her reaction, but she couldn’t control it.

“This is a surprise,” she finally managed. To her everlasting relief, her voice sounded relatively normal, if a bit higher than usual.

Jack straightened and came toward her, moving around the counter to her side. “I know. We just came from the doctor’s office and I thought you might want to hear how Lex is doing.”

“Lex?” To cover her flustered state, she seized on the name as she sidled a step away. “You’re calling that beautiful little girl Lex?”

“Sure. Every kid needs a nickname.” He took a step closer and smiled down at her. “Frannie is a nickname, isn’t it? Short for Francesca?”

“Don’t I wish.” She shook her head as she backed up another step. “Short for Frances.”

“I’m glad you’re not Frances or Fran. I like ‘Frannie,”’ Jack pronounced, advancing again.

She didn’t care what he liked. She just wished the man would quit invading her personal space. She took another step backward, and the wall brought her up short. “I like ‘Frannie,’ too.” Why are you here?

“And Jack, of course, is another name for John. My father was John, and I have to say I’m glad. Don’t you think Jack suits me?” He took another step closer.

“Jack suits you.” She took a deep breath. “You’re crowding me.”

“I know.”

She was startled into looking up and as she did so, she realized how very close he was. Their bodies were only inches apart, separated by the small mound of the baby’s carrier. He was smiling that intimate smile again, and she reminded herself that it was second nature for him, that there was nothing personal about it.

“Do you do this to all your friends?” She made her voice light and amused.

At the outer edges of his eyes, the grooves deepened. “Only my absolute favorites.” But he moved back a step.

She stayed where she was, with her back to the wall. Had she imagined it, or had his eyes grown watchful? “Thank you for the roses. It really wasn’t necessary, though.”

“I didn’t do it because I thought it was necessary,” he said. “I appreciate the time you took helping me with Alexa. She’d been in foster care practically until the moment we stepped on the plane. I’ve never been around babies much. It was a shock to have this little scrap of life dependent on me for every need all of a sudden.”

“A first baby is a shock even when you’ve anticipated its arrival for months.”

“No kidding.” His voice was dry, and for the first time she noticed that he looked tired. “When people talk about how sweet babies are, they never tell you that they get you up in the middle of the night or that they throw up on you ten times a day and scream bloody murder when you give them a bath.”

To cover her urge to laugh, Frannie coughed.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That didn’t fool me. You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“Yes, but only because I’ve lived through it.”

Jack cocked his head to one side, and his eyes suddenly were clear and alert. “You told me you helped with your brothers’ children.”

“Yes. Between them I have five nieces and nephews. One of my brothers’ wives had twins a few years ago. They were premature and needed a lot of care for the first few months after they were released from the hospital.” She smiled, remembering how fussy Robert’s twins had been. “For about three months there, I was in desperate need of a few hours of unbroken sleep.”

Jack was nodding. “It’s only been a week, and I already feel that way. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, though. For the past two nights she’s slept for five hours straight. I think we’re on the right track.”

Alexa stirred and he looked down. “What’s the matter, baby doll? Are you tired of being crammed into that sack?” He glanced at Frannie. “Would you like to hold her?”

She really shouldn’t. She was up to her eyeballs in work. But she could already feel the sweet weight of the little body in her arms. “I’d love to.”

He lifted Alexa from her nest and passed her into Frannie’s hands, and she noted that in just one week he had gotten pretty sure of himself. It showed in the careful, competent way he handled the child as he untied the bonnet’s strings and lifted the little cap from her head.

“Hello, sweetie. How’s my girl today? I bet you’re having fun with your uncle Jack.” She used the special voice she reserved for teeny ones as she clucked and murmured.

Jack chuckled. “I don’t know if we’re having fun, but we’re managing.”

Alexa yawned and grimaced, and her blue eyes focused intently on Frannie’s. Then her tiny face crinkled in a wide grin.

Could a person’s heart melt? Frannie felt as if her whole being suddenly had softened as a rush of maternal delight swept over her. “Oh, look! She’s smiling at me.”

“She’ll smile at anything right now.”

“Thanks a lot. That was flattering.”

“I guess that didn’t come out quite right.” He chuckled again. “One of my clients brought her a rag doll that’s almost the size she is. I set it in the corner of the crib and every time she catches sight of its face, she smiles.”

Frannie rocked the baby as Alexa stretched and cooed. “You know a friendly face when you see one, don’t you, chickadee?” Holding Alexa up, she brushed her cheek across the down-covered scalp, then lifted her head to smile at Jack. “This has got to be my favorite age. I adore them when they’re tiny and helpless and they look at you like you’re God. Then again, toddlers are delightful, too. Just in a different way. And they’re really fun when they hit school age....”

Her voice trailed away. He was still standing too close, but she’d forgotten when she’d been absorbed in the baby. Now she remembered.

He was looking at her mouth as she spoke. It was a silly thing, but it struck her as unbelievably seductive. Even when she stopped speaking, he didn’t meet her eyes, but continued to watch her lips.

Time stopped. Her breath stopped. Deep in her abdomen, she felt a flower of warmth blossoming, unsettling her, the excitement of arousal stirring and softening her in a manner totally different from the maternal feelings she had for Alexa.

Slowly he lifted one big hand, up and up and up until it was hovering at her cheek. His index finger feathered a whisper of sensation along the bow of her upper lip; his gaze followed the motion.