The Baby Switch!

The administrator cleared her throat, her expression almost grim. Shelby felt for the woman. The Wedlock Creek Clinic, a nonprofit that included an urgent care center, was a godsend for so many in the county, since the county hospital was forty-five minutes away. A lawsuit had the potential to close the clinic.

“I’m going to just say this outright,” Anne said, looking up from some paperwork. “A week ago, Ms. Ingalls—” she gestured to Shelby “—brought her six-month-old son, Shane, to the clinic with a stomach virus. A standard blood test was run. This morning our lab returned the results, noting a discrepancy with Ms. Ingalls’s blood type and Shane Ingalls’s blood type.”

A discrepancy? Huh? Shelby leaned forward a bit, staring at the woman, who glanced at her for a moment, the expression in her eyes so compassionate that the hairs rose on the back of Shelby’s neck.

Anne Parcells looked down at the papers in her hands, then back up. “Based on the results, it would be impossible for Ms. Ingalls to be Shane’s biological mother.”

What the ever-loving hell? Shelby bolted up, her arms around Shane in the sling. “That’s impossible! Of course he’s my son! I gave birth to him!”

The administrator’s expression turned grim again. “The test was run three times. I’m afraid that Shane Ingalls cannot be your biological son, Ms. Ingalls.”

Shelby’s legs shook and she dropped down on her chair, her head spinning. She tried to make sense of the words. Not your son. Discrepancy. Impossible.

This had to be a mistake—that was the only explanation. Of course Shane was her son!

Dimly, she could hear her sister-appointed lawyer requesting to see the paperwork, the ruffling of sheaves of paper as Anne handed over the stack and David Dirk studied them, flipping through the various documents.

“Jesus,” David mutter-whispered.

Shelby closed her eyes, trying to keep hold of herself despite the feeling coming over her that sh∆e was going to black out. She felt herself wobble a bit and grabbed David’s chair to steady herself.

He put a bracing arm around her. “We’ll have your and Shane’s blood drawn again and retested in a different lab,” he said.

She sucked in a breath and nodded. Yes. Redone. A different lab. It was a mistake. Just a mistake. The results would prove she was Shane’s mother. She was!

“Excuse me,” Liam Mercer’s lawyer said, darting a compassionate glance at Shelby. “But what does this have to do with my client?”

The administrator took a deep breath. “Based on the results and a discussion with a night-shift nurse who retired three months ago, we believe your babies—Shane Ingalls and Alexander Mercer—born within minutes of each other in the early-morning hours of November 5, were accidentally switched at birth.”

Chapter Two

Shelby gasped.

“That’s impossible,” Liam Mercer said, his gaze narrowed on the administrator, then on Shelby. “Come on.”

The woman glanced from Shelby to Liam, then said, “In the chaos of the storm, the nurse didn’t follow procedure to secure an identifying bracelet around the male babies until the generator kicked back in. She was positive she’d put Ms. Ingalls’s baby in the left bassinet and Ms. Harwood’s in the right. But because we now know that Shane Ingalls can’t be the child Shelby gave birth to, she thinks she must have made a mistake.”

Liam stood up, tightening his hold on the baby in his arms. “That’s ridiculous. Like Mr. Dirk said, the blood test results are a mistake. A mislabeled vial, and voilà, mother and baby are suddenly not related. There was no switching of babies.”

“Mr. Mercer,” Anne Parcells said. “I wish that were the case. However, given that the generator failed at precisely the time when both babies were taken, within minutes of each other, to the pediatric clinic to be weighed and measured and cleaned up, it’s entirely possible that the nurse accidentally switched the babies. I also wish that the blood type issue could be a mistake, but Ms. Ingalls’s blood was drawn twice on prior visits to the clinic during prenatal care—and documented, of course. Her blood type is not compatible with Shane’s.”

Oh, God. There went her last hope.

“Entirely possible isn’t good enough,” Liam said, his voice ice-cold. “Either the nurse did switch the babies or she didn’t. If you don’t know for sure, then...” He shook his head, then stared at Anne Parcells. “Wait a minute. Alexander was born here, so you must have his blood type on record and his mother’s. Are they compatible? I’m sure they are.”

The administrator nodded. “Alexander’s blood type, one of the most common, is a match for Liza Harwood’s. However, it’s also a match for Ms. Ingalls. Which leads to next steps. DNA tests must be conducted.”

“There,” Liam said, “Alexander’s blood type is compatible with his mother’s. And mine, I’m sure. He’s my son.”

“You visited the urgent care center twice in the past five years, Mr. Mercer. Your blood type is on record. Your blood type is compatible with Alexander’s, as well.”

The relief that crossed Liam’s face almost had Shelby happy for him. But she was barely hanging on.

“This is all some mix-up with Ms. Ingalls and her son’s blood type but it has nothing to do with me.” He looked over at Shelby then, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. Just like the night she’d first seen him. “I don’t mean to sound cavalier at your expense, Ms. Ingalls, but this is a mistake,” he said to her. “It has to be.”

“He’s right!” Shelby shouted, panic and bile rising. “It’s all a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

“There were four babies born the night of November 5,” the director said. “Two boys and two girls. If there was a switch, it was between Shane Ingalls and Alexander Mercer.”

The lawyers began talking, but Shelby’s ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. As Liam began pacing, she glanced at the baby in his arms—and gasped.

“What?” Liam asked, freezing, his gaze narrowed on her again.

“The little birthmark on his ear,” she whispered, standing up. “I have it, too. So does my grandmother.” Norah didn’t have it. Her mother didn’t have it. But Shelby did.

Everyone peered at the tiny reddish-brown spot on the baby’s earlobe. Then at Shelby’s ear.

“Oh, for God’s sake. It’s nothing,” Liam said, shifting Alexander in his arms so that he was out of view. “It’s a mark that will fade away.”

Shelby’s legs shook to the point that she dropped back down in her chair. She stared at Shane’s dark hair, so unlike her own, which was blond. But Shane’s father, a bronc rider she’d foolishly married after a whirlwind courtship and who’d left town with another woman the moment Shelby told him she was pregnant, had Shane’s same dark hair. He had blue eyes, too, just like Shane.

But the baby in Liam Mercer’s arms was also dark-haired. Also blue-eyed.

In fact, the babies looked a lot alike, except for the shapes of their faces, and Shane’s features were a little sharper than Alexander’s. Did Shane look like Liam Mercer? Okay, yes. But he also looked a little like Shelby. Even if no one ever commented on that. He must look like his daddy, she’d heard someone say a time or two as they’d peered in Shane’s stroller, then at her.

She suddenly felt dizzy and put her hand on her lawyer’s chair to brace herself again. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. This could not be happening.

It was a mistake. Shane was her son.

Liam’s lawyer also flipped through the paperwork, then looked up. “As there’s no reason to believe that Alexander West Mercer is not my client’s biological child, based on blood type, we’ll await DNA results before any further discussion.”

Shelby’s lawyer nodded. “We’ll have Shelby’s and Shane’s blood tested for type at a separate facility. Until those results come in, we also will proceed with the understanding that Shane Ingalls is Shelby Ingalls’s biological child.

Thank God Norah was dating a lawyer. Shelby’s mind was in such a state that she’d never have thought of that.

“If that is agreeable to both parties,” the administrator said. “Of course I’ll need you both to sign some documents.”

Shelby stared down at Shane, the voices retreating as everything inside her went numb. She held him as close as she could without squeezing him. He was her son.

“I saw you,” Liam said, a reluctant awareness edging his deep voice.

Shelby looked up. Liam was standing in front of her and staring at her.

“The night Alexander was born,” he said. “I was in the waiting room and you were suddenly wheeled in, but another gurney was blocking the doorway. I was afraid you’d deliver right there in front of me.”

“I remember,” she said. The sight of you, the way our eyes met, gave me something concrete to focus on.

“I’d like to confer with my client,” Liam’s attorney said.

“As would I,” Shelby’s lawyer said.

Liam and his lawyer stepped to the back of the room. Shelby and hers stayed at the front.

“Until we have your blood tested again, Shane is your son same as he was a half hour ago,” David said. “Even if the results indicate that you and Shane can’t be biologically related, operate under the assumption that he is your child under the law until the DNA tests are in.”

He is. He is my son! But she heard herself ask the impossible. “What if he isn’t?” she said, her voice strangled on a sob. “What if he’s not my son?”

“Then the four of us will meet again, Shelby. But until we know for sure, don’t agree to anything Mercer or his attorney asks of you and for God’s sake, don’t sign anything. Do you hear me?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

The administrator took Shelby and Liam and their attorneys into a room, explained in detail how the DNA test worked, then had a technician swab the inside of their mouths and draw blood for good measure, vials labeled with their names. In addition to their attorneys, two techs served as witnesses and the entire process was videotaped to assure all was handled correctly. Shelby and Liam both watched, eagle-eyed, as the swabs and vials were sealed into separate bags.

“I’ll also have my and Shane’s blood drawn at Cottonwood County Hospital today,” Shelby said. “I’ll ask for the results to be forwarded to all parties.”

Finally, after another clipped speech about how sorry the administrator was and that she’d call the moment the DNA test results reached her desk, the attorneys left, and Shelby and Liam Mercer were alone.

Liam had the same expression on his face that Shelby had to have on hers. Shock. Confusion. And fear. He was looking down but not at his son or at the floor.

“I’m hanging on to useless hope,” she said. “If Shane isn’t my biological son, if the babies were switched, then the baby in your arms is my child?” She shook her head. “This is crazy.”

“Alexander is my son,” Liam practically growled, his expression so fierce she took a step back. “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re going through the same thing I am. I don’t mean to take this out on you, of all people.”

She bit her lip and let out a breath. Was the baby in Liam’s arms her son? Had she walked out of this clinic six months ago with someone else’s child? And left her own behind? Tears pricked her eyes.

“May I see him?” Shelby asked, blinking back hard on the tears. “Up close?”

Liam hesitated, then stepped toward her. Shelby tried to stifle the gasp. Alexander Mercer did look an awful lot like her. Down to the shape of the eyes, his face, something in his expression and the little Ingalls birthmark. But he had a dimple—like Liam. None of the Ingallses had a dimple.

But Shane’s father did.

Still, hair and eye color and a birthmark and a dimple didn’t mean Shane wasn’t her son.

Even if the baby in her arms looked a lot like Liam Mercer.

Shelby shook her head, suddenly unable to speak. She sucked in a breath. “I love Shane with all my heart. I’m his only parent. I’m his mother. He’s my son.”

“I feel the same way about Alexander,” Liam said. “His mother died in childbirth.”

Oh, no. That was why he looked the way he had that night. “I’m so sorry.” She let out a breath. “And I’m scared. Really, really scared.”

“I don’t say this often, Ms. Ingalls. But so am I.”

That made her feel better. Especially because he was a Mercer. And the Mercer name in Wedlock Creek meant two things. Power and money. Shelby barely broke even every month. And her lawyer was on loan.

“Liam,” she said. “My son looks a lot like you. And your son looks a lot like me.”

He turned away, then stared down at the baby in his arms. Then at her. Then back to his son. “Yeah. I know. And I’m worried as hell. That the babies actually could have been switched. I mean, I saw you here, in this clinic, in labor, at the same time Alexander’s mother was in labor. I saw you with my own eyes. You gave birth to a baby boy. That’s not in dispute. If Shane isn’t yours, then...” He shook his head, then stared at the ground.

She expelled a breath. “So now what?”

Alexander gurgled and cooed, “Du, wa,” his gaze on Shane. The two babies eyed each other, smiles forming. Alexander reached out to touch Shane’s arm and Shane smiled, reaching to touch the brim of the little Stetson.

“They like each other,” Liam said softly, his voice hollow. “Look, let’s go to the hospital and get your and Shane’s blood drawn for typing. For all we know, the clinic here has been making mistakes for years. Let’s find out for sure that you and Shane can’t be related.”

Should she go anywhere with Liam Mercer? Maybe she should run it by her lawyer. But then again, there was only one person on earth who knew what this insanity felt like: Liam. She wanted to hear what he had to say. She needed to be around him right now.

She let out a breath and nodded. “I’m in no position to drive. My hands will shake on the wheel.”

“I’ll drive. I’ll install Shane’s seat in the back of my SUV.”

Which meant he was calm. Outwardly, anyway. Because he knew that no matter what, he wouldn’t lose anything? That was very likely how things were for Mercers. Money and power talked.

“I want to make something clear, Mr. Mercer. I know the Mercer name. You and your family are wealthy and powerful and own half the commercial real estate and the rodeo. I’m a single mother without much to my name but a secondhand shop. Regardless, if you push me, if you try anything underhanded, I’ll fight you with everything I have.”

“Whoa,” he said, his blue eyes steady on her. “We’re going through the same thing, Ms. Ingalls. We’re in the same position. Money and power are meaningless here. If Alexander isn’t my biological son, all the money in Wyoming won’t make it any less true.”

She stared at him. He was right—to a point. Money and power could take Shane away from her. He could end up with both boys.

“I might be rich, Ms. Ingalls. But I’m not underhanded. I’m a single parent, just like you are. And I’ll swear on anything you want. I’ll never do anything to hurt you or these babies.”

The sincerity on his face made her feel better. And truth be told, she needed to believe him or she’d spontaneously combust. “Call me Shelby.”

He nodded. “And call me Liam.”

He gestured for her to walk ahead out the door. “Let’s get the hell out of this clinic.”

As she watched Liam zip up his son’s fleece bunting, the tenderness on the man’s face almost stole her breath.

He loves that baby. Like I love Shane.

Dear God, this was a mess.

You’re my son, no matter what, she whispered silently to Shane.

As they left the office, each holding a baby, Shelby was barely hanging on. If the DNA tests proved the impossible, that they’d each taken home a baby who wasn’t theirs, would Liam try to seek custody of both babies and win because of his power and money and influence? Right now it was easy for him to say he’d never do anything to hurt her. His back wasn’t up against a wall—yet, anyway. Not like hers was.

Stop getting ahead of yourself, Shelby. He might be a Mercer, but she had a loud, bossy, big family in Wedlock Creek. They’d have her back. Her sister had managed to supply her with a lawyer in less than five minutes, after all. One step at a time, one piece of information at a time.

Feeling a little stronger, she watched as Liam headed across the parking lot to his car, a sleek, black SUV, settled Alexander in his car seat, then drove it over to where she stood next to her twelve-year-old Ford.

She could not, would not, lose Shane. But the little boy in that black car was very likely her baby, too.

Oh, God. Suddenly she wanted to tear Alexander from his car seat, take him in her arms and explain it had been a mistake, she hadn’t known, she was so sorry she let someone else take him home and raise him these past six months.

As tears slipped down her cheeks, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She hadn’t even realized Liam had gotten out of his car and had come over to her. “We’ll figure this out together,” he said.

At the word together, she calmed down again and looked up into Liam Mercer’s eyes. She saw sincerity there. But the last time Shelby had trusted a man she’d ended up pregnant and alone.

Careful, she told herself. Proceed with utmost caution. Agree to nothing. Sign nothing. You’re a smart woman. Keep your head.

She was glad when Liam let go of her shoulder and opened her car door to get Shane’s car seat, busy with installing it in his SUV. They were not united. They were not anything. His use of the word together would likely only serve him. She didn’t know this man at all.

She was on her own here and had to remember that. Or she’d lose everything.

* * *

Liam’s hands had been steady on the wheel during the drive to the hospital, but inside he was a mess. Every time his mind latched on something that would make Alexander his biological son, three more yeah, but what about xyz, yeah, but remember when the administrator said socked him upside the head. Shelby had been silent for the almost hour drive, and he was glad. He didn’t want to talk about any of it. He could barely handle thinking about it.

Alexander wasn’t his son? He damned well was, no matter what a piece of paper said. That was the one thing that kept reverberating in his head. He was sure it was the same for Shelby, which made him want to be around her and never see her again at the same time.

Was the baby in the back seat, the one without the cowboy hat, his biological child?

Maybe. Probably? No. Yes. He went round and round as Shelby and Shane were ushered into the lab room to get their blood drawn. As he sat in the waiting room, Alexander playing his favorite game of squeeze Daddy’s chin, women around him commenting on Alexander’s cuteness and big cheeks, he could hear Shane crying behind the closed door. Which made him hyperaware of the timing; his tiny vein had just been pricked, a vial filling with his blood. Which would prove, once and for all, if the clinic hadn’t made a mistake with the typing. From prior visits, at that.

Hell, it was unlikely, but he was hanging on to hope. If Shelby could be Shane’s biological mother, then they could all just walk away, go back to their lives and live happily-ever-after. Liam would have one heck of a story for tonight’s dinner at the Mercer ranch.

Shelby finally came out of the lab room, holding Shane, who had a little round Mickey Mouse Band-Aid in the crook of his right arm. Liam stared at his little tear-stained face, seeing not only his own expression in Shane’s, but Liza’s, also.

He almost fell out of his chair.

“Are you all right, Liam?” Shelby asked, rushing over.

He slowly shook his head. He was not all right.

Calm down and go back to hanging on to hope. Wait for the blood results. If they still say Shelby isn’t Shane’s mother, then you’ll wait for the DNA tests. You’re Alexander’s father. You are.

As they left the hospital, Shelby told him that the lab had promised to expedite the results, based on a call from the clinic requesting it. She would know by three o’clock today.

“I want to stay with you and Shane until we know,” he said. “I need you in my sight.”

“Because you’re afraid I’ll run away with your heir?” she snapped. “If Shane is your son, then Alexander is my son,” she reminded him, her green eyes flashing.

He stared at her. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“I don’t know you,” she pointed out. “And I don’t trust easily. Add in who you are...”

“I told you, Shelby, I—”

“Won’t do anything to hurt me or Shane. I know. I’ve tucked that away to remind you of it when you really have to face the truth of what’s happened.”

He shook his head. “Let me change how I put it, then. I want you and Shane in my sight because I’m going out of my mind. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to tell anyone about this yet. That leaves you. To be with someone who gets it without my having to say a word.”

Her expression softened. “I know exactly what you mean.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, God, I really need to head over to my shop and put a sign on the door that we’re closed for the day. The Minnow sisters are probably worried about me, and I had an appointment scheduled for ten-thirty to look through a bag of stuff.”

“Minnow sisters? Bag of stuff?”

“For Treasures, my shop. The Minnows are three elderly sisters who stop by every Friday at ten to see what I’ve added for the weekend shoppers.”

He nodded. “The secondhand store. Next to the bakery, right? My cousin Clara loves that place. I once complimented a painting of a weathered red barn in her hallway and she said she got it from Treasures. I stopped by one day to check it out but left when I realized it was a secondhand store.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Honestly, you never know what you’ll find at Treasures.”

Like dust? Falling apart old junk even its owner didn’t want? The painting had to be an exception. “Well, why don’t we head over there? We can talk there or not talk there and just keep each other occupied until the call comes from the hospital lab. I could use a few cups of coffee. At some point later I’ll drive you back to the clinic to pick up your car.”

Forty-five minutes later Liam pulled into a spot in front of Treasures. As they got out of the car, Shelby taking out Shane, and Liam taking out Alexander, he saw Shelby craning her neck to look down Main Street.

“I can just make out the Minnow sisters heading into the library,” she said. “They’re easy to spot since they always walk three across the sidewalk. They must have waited all this time for me and gave up.”

As she opened the door with an ornate gold key, he realized he actually had been in the shop once before with Clara. His cousin had insisted on dragging him along to find a present for her mother, who despite being Liam’s dear aunt, was the biggest snob alive. Liam hadn’t thought his aunt would want anything from a secondhand shop, but the next time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing the brooch that Clara had insisted she’d love. It’s antique, it’s history, it has a story, Clara had insisted. Who knows where the brooch has been, what love story it was part of. It’s so romantic!

It’s so...used, was what Liam had thought. He appreciated the shiny and new. But hey, if it worked for his cousin and aunt, all the better for Shelby, now that he actually knew the shop’s owner.

“I’ll keep the shade drawn on the door and the closed sign hanging,” she said as they stepped inside. “I hate to disappoint my customers or keep new ones away, but I can’t open the store. Not in my frame of mind.”

“I know what you mean,” he said, scooting Alexander a bit higher in his arms. The baby snuggled against his leather jacket. “I had a day full of meetings, including a very important one. I canceled everything and delegated what I could.” His cousin had been incredulous when he let her know he was counting on her to seal the deal on the Kenyon Corp acquisition, that he had full faith in her. Incredulous that he was skipping the meeting and that he believed in her so much; that part of their relationship had never really been tested before.