Maybe My Baby

The second floor was one large room except for the bathroom. One large room with a brass bed, an overstuffed chair, a reading lamp and a very old armoire. And nothing else.

Emmy thought that cozy was stretching the truth a bit, but she didn’t say that.

“The bed has a feather mattress,” Aiden informed her as he set her suitcases on the wooden floor that hadn’t seen stain or varnish in several decades. “I hope you aren’t allergic.”

“I’m not,” she said as she poked her head into the bathroom, where she found toilet, sink and a claw-footed bathtub with a very dated showerhead dropping down from directly over the middle of the tub.

Aiden had turned on the space heater by the time she returned from inspecting the bathroom.

“I wouldn’t recommend using the heater all night long. It can get pretty hot if it’s on for hours at a time. And there’s an electric blanket on the bed, under the quilt, so you’ll be warm enough while you sleep. Getting out of bed in the morning is just sort of a shock to the system.”

“I can imagine.”

“Wakes you up, though.”

“Mmm.”

“Come on, let’s go downstairs. I have some sandwiches made up since we didn’t have any in-flight food service.”

He held the door open for her, and Emmy went out into the cold again.

At the bottom of the steps Aiden went ahead of her to the main door. As he did, her gaze dropped inadvertently to the jeans-clad derriere that was visible below his jacket.

Like the rest of him it was something to behold, and Emmy silently chastised herself for looking, snapping her eyes up to a safer view.

But the view wasn’t actually much safer when she took in the expanse of his back and broad, broad shoulders, or the sexy way his hair waved against his thick, strong neck.

“Ladies first,” he said then, and she noticed belatedly that he was waiting for her to go in ahead of him.

Emmy stepped into the cabin, glad for the warmth coming from the old radiator against one wall.

The place seemed about double the size of the attic room but it still wasn’t large. Or luxurious. Living room, dining room and kitchen were all one open space, with a mud room off the kitchen in the rear and a single bedroom and another bath on the other side of a log-framed archway to the left of the living room.

The furnishings were as inelegant as the cabin itself. There was a brown plaid sofa and matching easy chair at a ninety-degree angle to each other, with a wagon wheel coffee table in front of them and a moderately sized television and VCR across from them.

Aiden’s stereo equipment was on an arrangement of stacked cinder blocks against one wall, there was a fairly nice desk taking up another, and a scarred oak kitchen table and four ladder-backed chairs stood in what passed as a dining room only because the table and chairs were near the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the cabin.

“I know it’s nothing fancy,” Aiden said in response to Emmy’s glance around. “But Boonesbury provides the cabin and most of the furniture for the local doctor, and I’m usually not here enough for it to matter that it isn’t too aesthetically pleasing.”

“But it is cozy,” she said, mimicking him to tease him a little.

He laughed and she liked the sound of it. Along with the fact that he’d caught the joke.

He hadn’t been kidding about already having sandwiches made. There was a covered plate of them in the refrigerator. He brought that and a bowl of potato salad along with two glasses of water to the kitchen table where they shared the light repast while Aiden filled her in on the quirks of the plumbing system and the party-line inconveniences she would encounter if she used any telephone in Boonesbury.

They’d finished eating and Aiden was on his way back to the fridge with the remaining sandwiches when there was a firm knock on the front door.

By then it was after ten o’clock and a drop-in visitor struck Emmy as strange.

But Aiden took it in stride and said over his shoulder, “Get that, will you?”

She’d already figured out that he was a very laid-back guy and that there weren’t going to be any formalities even for the director of the Bernsdorf Foundation. So, in an attempt to adjust to the casual attitudes, she went to the door and opened it.

There was no one at eye level, but down below, on the porch floor, there was a baby carrier and a duffle bag.

Thinking that this couldn’t possibly be what it looked like, Emmy stepped out into the cold to investigate.

But it was exactly what it looked like.

Amidst a nest of blankets and a hooded snowsuit there was a baby bundled into the car seat. A baby with two great big brown eyes staring up at her from over the pacifier that was keeping it quiet.

“I think you better come see this,” she called to Aiden as she glanced all around and found no signs of anyone else.

But about the time Aiden came out onto the porch there was the sound of a vehicle racing away in the distance.

“What’s going on?” Aiden asked.

“Good question. All I know is when I opened the door this was what I found—a duffle bag and a baby in a car seat. And I just heard a car or truck drive off.”

“Oh-oh,” Aiden said. But he didn’t sound as unnerved as Emmy felt.

He went down off the porch, searching both sides of the cabin. But after only a minute or so he rejoined her, shrugging those mountain-man shoulders of his as he did.

“There’s nobody out there anymore. But we’d better get this little guy—or girl—in out of the cold.”

He picked up the carrier and the duffle bag and took them inside.

Emmy followed him all the way to the kitchen table, where he deposited everything, unbundled the baby and lifted it out.

“Hello, there.” He greeted the child in a soothing voice he probably used with his youngest patients.

Then, to Emmy, he said, “Check the bag, see if there’s a note or something that tells us who this is.”

Emmy did as she was told, wondering if her predecessor had ever had a trip quite like this one was already turning out to be.

Along with baby clothes, diapers and food, she did find a note, albeit not much of one. Written on it was only one word: Mickey.

“Mickey, huh? Well, let’s check you out a little, shall we, Mickey?” Aiden said when Emmy let him know what she’d found.

She watched as he took the baby to the sofa and laid it down there to unfasten the snowsuit. Then he removed the pajamas that were underneath it, and then the diaper.

“Looks like Mickey is a boy,” Aiden announced unnecessarily, replacing the diaper in a hurry and with more expertise than Emmy would have had. “Don’t let him roll off the sofa,” he instructed, going for his medical bag where he’d left it on a table near the front door.

Bringing it back with him, he went on to examine the child who was still watching everything with wide eyes and sucking on the pacifier, only protesting when Aiden used the stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs.

“I’d say Mickey, here, is about seven months old, well fed and taken care of and as healthy as they come,” was the final diagnosis.

“And why was he left on the porch? Or do you often have people drop off their children late at night for a checkup?”

“No, this is a first.”

“You don’t know the child or who he belongs to or where he came from?” Emmy asked with undisguised disbelief.

“I know as much as you do,” Aiden said patiently.

Emmy stared at him, wondering how he could possibly be so calm about this.

Then something clicked in her brain and she began to replay all that had happened since she’d landed in Alaska. The need to take the small plane into the middle of nowhere. To stay in a strange, distractingly attractive man’s cabin away from everything and everyone, in a room without central heat. And now a baby left on the doorstep?

This had to be some kind of practical joke Howard was playing on her.

Or maybe it was a test to see how she handled whatever curves came her way and to find out if she really was better suited to the job than Evelyn had been.

“This is all a setup, right?” she heard herself say. “Howard just wants to see how I deal with the unexpected, if I can keep my eye on the ball and not get overly involved in matters that don’t concern me. I know he thought Evelyn didn’t make it as director because she was so freaked out by the things that happened on these trips. He thought that she took everything too seriously and too personally, that she got too involved in things that didn’t have anything to do with the grants, that she lost sight of what she was in these communities to do, of what was and what wasn’t her business and let the wrong things influence her recommendations. So he decided to put me through trial by fire, didn’t he?”

Aiden settled Mickey on his knee and looked at Emmy as if she’d lost her mind. “The only thing Howard set up was the opportunity for Boonesbury to be considered for the grant.”

“Come on. Making me fly in the same kind of plane Evelyn nearly crashed in? Making me stay here? A baby left on the porch the minute I arrive? Howard arranged it all.”

“I’m sorry, Emmy, but he didn’t. This is just the way things are.”

It was not a good sign that even in the middle of this the sound of him saying her name made her melt a little inside, and she wondered if she was just on some kind of overload. She had been up since four o’clock that morning, after all, and it had hardly been a relaxing day.

But still she didn’t give up the notion that Howard had planned what had happened since she’d landed in Alaska to test her. And she knew that even if he had, his cohort here wasn’t likely to confess from the get-go.

“Okay, fine. This is just the way things are,” Emmy repeated with a note of facetiousness. “So what does that mean? That while I’m here and you’re giving me the tour of Boonesbury’s medical needs we’re going to deal with an abandoned baby, too?”

“Well, it looks like I am. I don’t have a choice. Somebody left this baby here, and they must have had a reason. For now I need to find out who that person is and what the reason was and decide what to do about it. But I won’t let it—or Mickey—stand in the way of what you’re here to do. Boonesbury really could benefit from that grant money.”

“And you’re just going to take it in stride,” Emmy said, still finding it difficult to believe anyone could be so cool about it all.

Aiden Tarlington shrugged his shoulders again. “This is Alaska. Things in Fairbanks, Anchorage, Juneau—the cities—are pretty much what you’d find in the lower forty-eight. But out here there’s a mix of stubborn independence and neighbor helping neighbor. I know these people and I know this baby being here could mean just about anything. But, like I said, I’ll make sure it doesn’t interfere with what you’re here to do, or impact on you in any way.”

And if this was all some kind of test Howard had set up, she decided on the spot that she was going to pass it. That she wasn’t going to get upset by this turn of events and call the head of the board of trustees to whine about it the way Evelyn would have. That she wasn’t going to take it upon herself to care for that baby even if she was itching to hold him and comfort him and let him know he was with people who would be kind to him. That she wasn’t going to let herself be distracted the way Evelyn would have been. Or let herself be swayed in Boonesbury’s favor because she was already having her heartstrings tugged.

She was there to assess medical needs of the entire area and community and that was all. Period. Finito. That was the total sum and substance of what she was concerning herself with. She knew that Howard had very nearly not given her the job because Evelyn had left him with so many doubts that a woman could do it. Doubts that a woman could weather the hardships of these trips and remain objective in the face of the things she might see. And Emmy was going to prove him wrong.

So, with all of that in mind, Emmy tried to ignore Mickey by raising her chin and her gaze high enough not to see him and said, “I’m sure everything will work out. But if you don’t mind, I’ve had a really long day and I think I’ll leave you to do whatever you need to with Mickey to get him settled in for the night.”

“Sure. You must be beat. There won’t be any rush to get out of here tomorrow, so you can sleep in as long as you want and we’ll just go into town whenever you’re ready.”

“Great.”

Aiden stood to walk her to the door, taking Mickey along with him. “If you need anything just stomp on the floor a couple of times and I’ll come running.”

“Okay. Good luck with this,” Emmy added, nodding at Mickey.

“Thanks,” Aiden said with a small chuckle, as if he could use some luck.

Or a benefactor who hadn’t enlisted him to test the new director, Emmy thought. Although she was impressed by how good he was at the charade. Obviously, Howard had chosen well in his coconspirator.

Emmy opened the front door and flinched at the blast of cold air that came in. “Better keep Mickey out of the draft,” she advised. “I’ll close this behind me.”

Aiden nodded, staying a few feet back.

“Good night,” Emmy said.

“Sleep well.”

She pushed open the screen door, then stepped out onto the porch and turned to pull the wooden door shut.

But as she did she couldn’t help taking one last look at Aiden Tarlington, standing there holding that baby, and she was struck by what an appealing sight it was to see the big, muscular man cradling the infant in his arms.

But she wasn’t going to let any of it get to her, she reminded herself firmly.

Not the adorable, abandoned baby.

Not the wilderness.

Not the rustic room without heat.

Not the idea of needing to fly back to civilization in the tiny plane when this was over.

And not the drop-dead-gorgeous, sexy doctor she was sort of living with.

Evelyn, Emmy knew, would never have been able to keep her mind on the job with all these distractions.

But Emmy was determined that she would.

Chapter Two

Aiden woke up early the next morning and immediately rolled to his side to peer down at his youngest houseguest.

He’d pumped up an air mattress and placed it between the bed and the wall as a makeshift crib, but he hadn’t been sure it was the safest way for the baby to sleep. Worrying about it had made for a restless night. But, as he had on every other bed check, he found Mickey sound asleep, peacefully making sucking noises as if he were practicing for breakfast.

Even though it came as a relief to see once again that the infant was all right, Aiden didn’t hold out much hope of falling back to sleep himself. The sun wasn’t anywhere near rising yet, so he rolled to his back again, closed his eyes and tried to relax enough to maybe doze off.

Except that now he could hear those sucking sounds and he just kept thinking, What the hell am I doing with a baby…?

He’d thought he’d pretty much seen it all up here during the past seven years. But he had to admit that having a baby left on his doorstep was a new one. He delivered babies, he didn’t have them left with him.

As he’d put his tiny charge to bed he’d tried to figure out if Mickey was one of the babies he’d delivered seven months or so ago, but he hadn’t been able to tell. A newborn and a seven-month-old didn’t look much alike. Even the eye color often changed. And it wasn’t as if he could remember specific, identifying features of each baby, because he couldn’t.

And then there was the other possibility. The possibility he didn’t want to consider. The possibility he had to consider even if he didn’t want to.

What if Mickey was his? What if that was the reason he’d been left with him?

If it hadn’t been for one single night, he would have been able to say there was no way that it was possible that he was Mickey’s father. But there had been that one single night. And when he’d counted backward—seven months for what he guessed to be Mickey’s age and then another nine months gestation—he had to admit that that one single night could have, in fact, resulted in Mickey.

That thought chased sleep further from his grasp, and Aiden opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

One single night…

One single night when his marriage had fallen apart, when Rebecca had left him, that he’d gone into town and drowned his sorrow in a whiskey bottle.

And ended up sleeping with Nora Finley.

But until now he’d thought sleeping was all they’d done.

Even now he couldn’t remember anything beyond being in Boonesbury’s bar to tie one on and meeting up with Nora.

He only knew that when he finally came to the next morning, there had been a note on the pillow beside him that said, “Thanks for a good time, Nora.”

But since he’d still had his pants on he’d assumed the “good time” they’d had had merely been drinks and laughs and maybe sharing a platonic mattress.

He’d been sure that nothing else had happened. He liked Nora well enough but she was a long—long—way from his type. To say she was rough around the edges was a kind description of the woman who had hacked out a place in the woods to build her cabin with her own two hands, and who made her living running dogsled races. And rough around the edges was not something he’d ever found attractive.

But now he couldn’t be absolutely positive that nothing beyond drinks and laughs had happened. Maybe he had offered her more than a place to crash for a night.

Mickey didn’t look like Nora, Aiden reminded himself, in an effort to find something to hang some hope on to. Mickey didn’t look like Aiden, either. Or like anyone Aiden knew.

But the hope he derived from that was fleeting. Looks were hardly conclusive proof of anything.

Which meant that he was going to have to do some investigating. Some testing. Some questioning.

And all right away.

Unfortunately.

Because although this was not something he ever wanted to be faced with, having it happen now was phenomenally bad timing.

He was grateful to Howard Wilson for submitting Boonesbury for the grant that Emmy Harris was there to consider them for. The money would be a huge help in updating the care he could give, and Aiden had planned to do everything he could to convince her to recommend that they get it. Only now he had Mickey and this whole situation to deal with, too.

But there was nothing he could do about it. He just had to hope that Emmy Harris would be as understanding and patient as she was lovely to look at.

That thought made him nervous the moment after he’d had it. On two counts.

First of all, Emmy Harris had already not seemed patient and understanding about Mickey. Actually Mickey’s arrival had sort of pushed her over the edge, Aiden recalled, as he considered the end of last evening and the foundation’s director saying what she’d said about Howard setting up these complications, about this being a trial by fire.

She hadn’t seemed patient or understanding then. She’d seemed agitated.

And second of all, what was he doing thinking about her being lovely?

That didn’t have a place in any of this.

It was tough to ignore, though, he secretly admitted to himself.

Because she really was a knockout. And a whole lot more his type than Nora Finley.

Not that he was interested in Emmy Harris personally. But, purely on an empirical basis, she was a very attractive woman. How could he not notice that? How could he not notice that she had skin as flawless as Mickey’s? And high cheekbones that no plastic surgeon could have fashioned as well? And a small nose with the faintest hint of a bump on the bridge that kept it from being too perfect and ended up making it just plain cute? And lips full enough to inspire images of long, slow kisses…

Fast—think about what you didn’t like about her, he ordered himself before his mind ventured too much farther afield than it already had.

He hadn’t been wild about that bun her hair had been in—that was something he hadn’t liked.

Although the hair itself was a great color—rich mink-brown all shot through with russet red.

And her eyes were a fascinating color, too. Dark brown but with rays of glittering green all through them so that first he’d thought they were brown and then he’d wondered if they were green, before he’d finally sat across the kitchen table from her and been able to really figure it out.

Plus there were those legs of hers. Terrific legs.

Any woman in a skirt and nylons was a rare, bordering-on-nonexistent sight in Boonesbury. But even if it had been an everyday occurrence, her legs would have caught his attention. Long, shapely legs that made them a particular treat.

A treat that only started there. It continued all the way up a great little body that was just curvy enough to let him know she was a woman underneath that stuffy suit and high-collared blouse.

Oh, yeah, she was easy on the eyes.

And smart.

And she had a sense of humor, too—something he was really a sucker for in a woman….

Aiden mentally yanked himself up short when he again realized the direction his thoughts had wandered.

So much for thinking about what he didn’t like about her.

But even when he tried to come up with something else, he couldn’t. The bun was about it in the negatives column. And he had no doubt one swipe of a hairbrush would take care of that.

Which was probably why, even in spite of the mess with Mickey, he was looking forward to this next week more than he had been before he’d met Emmy Harris.

This isn’t a social event, he reminded himself.

This week was work. And that was the only way he should be thinking about it.

Besides, even if Emmy Harris had been there for some other reason, Aiden knew better than to let down his guard with a woman like her.

She might be more his type than Nora Finley, but he could tell the minute she’d stepped up to him at the airport that she was not the kind of person who could make a go of life in the Alaskan wilderness.

Emmy Harris might look pretty special, but he knew right off the bat that she wasn’t the kind of special to live where high fashion translated to anorak jackets, mukluks and thermal underwear. Where the only restaurant was also the gas station and the mayor’s office. Where there wasn’t a shopping mall within driving distance. Where a fair share of women—like Nora—considered cutting their nails with a gutting knife to be a manicure.

And if there was one thing Aiden already knew from painful experience it was that it was a losing battle to make any attempt to fit the round-peg kind of woman Emmy Harris was into the square hole of Boonesbury.

Oh, no, that wasn’t something he’d ever try again.

But even so, he thought as the sun began to make its first appearance through the open curtains of his bedroom window, he did have to admit that having the foundation’s beautiful director there with him for a little while would be a nice change of pace.

Of course it would have been a nicer change of pace if he didn’t have an abandoned baby and possible fatherhood looming over his head at the same time to distract him, but it was still a nice change of pace, anyway.

On the other hand, considering how intensely aware he’d been of every detail about Emmy just in the first few hours of knowing her, maybe having Mickey around as a buffer was a good thing.

Mickey made a noise just then that sounded different from the sucking noises, and Aiden rolled to his side again to check on him.

When he did he found the baby’s eyes open and his fist in his mouth.

Mickey left the fist where it was but looked up at Aiden with curiosity.

“Morning, little guy,” he said softly.

Mickey granted him a tentative smile from behind the fist.

“Ready to get up?” Aiden asked as if the infant would answer him.