Maybe My Baby

Mickey grinned even bigger, as if that idea had thrilled him.

“Okay, but here’s what I’m thinking,” Aiden informed the baby. “I’ll get you cleaned up and fed, and then you’re going to have to pay me back by keeping things on the up and up while Ms. Emmy Harris is around. You can’t let me do anything stupid. What do you say?”

Mickey finally removed his fist from his mouth and blew a spit bubble for him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

But Aiden was worried that Mickey had his work cut out for him.

Because as he got out of bed to pick up the baby he could feel the itch to see Emmy again, to hear her voice, to catch a whiff of her perfume.

An itch so strong he wasn’t sure how he was going to ignore it.

Even if the medical future of the whole county was riding on it.

For Emmy there was ordinarily nothing like a good night’s sleep to recharge her batteries and help her face the day.

But she had had nothing like a good night’s sleep. And when she woke up at five minutes after seven, she was aggravated with herself. Even if she was on a business trip, it was Sunday and there was no hurry getting to work. The least her body could have done was to have let her get some rest.

Although, it wasn’t actually her body at fault. Her body was supremely comfortable in the feather bed.

It was her mind that had kept her awake most of the night. Her mind that had kicked up again now.

She kept her eyes closed and took deep breaths, willing herself not to think about anything.

Just sleep, she told herself. Just sleep…

But her nose was so cold where it poked above the covers that she thought that might be keeping her awake.

Which meant she would have to get up, have her bare feet touch an undoubtedly frigid floor, expose herself completely to what her nose was suffering already and go all the way to the far corner of the room to turn on the space heater.

What exactly was it that people saw in rustic living? It was a mystery to her.

She sighed and resigned herself to having to leave her warm cocoon to get some heat in the place.

Flinging aside the electric blanket and quilt, she ran on tiptoes to the space heater to turn it on, then dived back under the covers again.

But that mad dash didn’t save her, and even after she was back in the warm bed a chill shook her whole body like a leaf in the wind.

How could any place in the twenty-first century—especially in Alaska—not have central heat, for crying out loud?

But once the chill had passed and the room was beginning to warm up, Emmy relaxed again and admitted that it was nice under that electric blanket and the weight of the quilt. She even began to wonder if maybe she’d be able to fall asleep again after all.

She closed her eyes and gave it a try.

Just sleep. Just sleep…

But would her stubborn brain give her a break?

Absolutely not.

It started spinning with the same thoughts that had kept her up most of the night—that it was a dirty trick Howard was playing on her to put all these obstacles in her way to test her on her very first trip for the foundation.

But he wasn’t going to get the best of her. The determination to pass the test was stronger this morning than it had been the night before.

She figured that she’d already overcome some of the obstacles: she’d gotten on that small plane rather than allowing fear to rule; she’d left Aiden Tarlington to contend with the baby rather than digging in as if it were her problem; and she’d made it through her first night in the attic room without heat.

So there, Howard!

Of course, she’d also spent the night tormented with vivid images of Aiden Tarlington and a strange longing to be back downstairs with him.

But that didn’t count as a failure of the test; keeping her from sleeping was not foundation business. It only counted as foundation business if she was distracted from her reason for being here. And while the much-too-attractive doctor had the potential to do just that, she was not going to let it happen.

Any more than she was going to let herself get sidetracked by the complications of the oh-so-cute baby who had come onto the scene last night.

Because although it might not be easy to keep her focus, she was going to do it. She really was. Howard was not going to win this one.

She’d fought for this job, and now that she had it, she was going to do it. She was going to do it better than anyone had ever done it before her—man or woman. And without a peep of complaint.

She just needed to wear blinders of a sort. She needed to block out the effects of Aiden Tarlington’s appeal, the draw of the adorable Mickey, and keep her eye on the ball.

And that was what she was going to do.

The little pep talk bolstered her confidence and she felt herself actually beginning to drift off to sleep again.

And if while she did, the picture of Aiden Tarlington came back into her mind and made something warm and fuzzy inside her stir to life?

Well, she wasn’t working at the moment, was she?

There may have been no hurry for Emmy to join Aiden for the tour of Boonesbury but, when the next time her eyes opened it was eleven o’clock, she bolted out of bed in a panic. What kind of impression did it make for the foundation’s director to sleep that late?

She rushed to the bathroom to take a shower but that was no quick thing. She had to deal with the peculiarities of a pitifully poor spray of water that literally ran hot one minute, cold the next, and never just warm enough to stand under.

She’d wanted to do something nice with her hair. Something nicer, more youthful and definitely more attractive than the bun. But that would have taken too long so she ended up leaving it to fall loosely around her shoulders.

And as for clothes, she could hardly dawdle when it came to deciding what to wear, and quickly chose a pair of black slacks and a long-sleeved, white, split-V-neck T-shirt. Then she applied blush and mascara—as fast as she did in her car on the way to her office when she’d slept through her alarm.

Yet it was still noon before she grabbed the black knee-length cardigan sweater she’d brought with her and bounded down the stairs to knock on Aiden’s door.

“It’s open. Come on in.”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the barely above-freezing temperature outside actually shook her at the sound of his voice through the closed door. Before she opened it she reminded herself how much she had riding on this trip and how much damage she could do to herself by allowing an unprofessional response to this man.

Besides, she’d already had her life scrambled by a nature boy, and she knew better than to get too close to another one. She and Aiden Tarlington were oil and water, and the two just didn’t mix.

Remember that, she ordered herself as she went inside.

“Hi,” he greeted, the moment she did.

He was sitting at the kitchen table with Mickey in the baby carrier in front of him so that he could feed the infant what looked to be applesauce.

Emmy returned his greeting and then debated about making an excuse for why she was putting in such a late appearance. But the fact that Aiden didn’t question her gave her the opportunity not to explain herself and so she didn’t.

“We’re just finishing up lunch here,” he informed her. “Help yourself to something to eat.”

Emmy was struck all over again by the lack of formality, but she went to the other side of the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee.

There were still a few sandwiches from the night before in the fridge and, in the interest of letting him think she’d been up for more than an hour, she chose one of those to bring back with her to the table rather than having the toast or cereal she would have preferred as her first meal of the day.

As Emmy joined Aiden and Mickey at the table, Aiden was intent on persuading the baby to accept another bite of food. Not being in the conversation left Emmy free to drink in the sight of the big man.

He had on blue jeans and a blue-plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows exposing the cuffs of a darker blue crew-neck T-shirt that also showed behind the open collar. He looked more like a lumberjack than a doctor but he was something to behold nevertheless.

“So I see Mickey is still here,” Emmy commented, when the infant took the spoonful of what was indeed applesauce.

“Still here,” Aiden confirmed.

“Mmm-hmm. And you’re still going with the story that he was just left here,” Emmy said, unable to suppress a knowing smile at what she was convinced was an elaborate ruse instigated by Howard.

“I’m still going with the story because it’s the only story there is.”

She decided to call his bluff. “If Mickey has really been abandoned shouldn’t you call the police or Child Protective Services or someone with the authority to do something about it?”

Aiden showed no sign of wavering. “That might be what I should do if I was somewhere else,” he explained smoothly. “But we don’t have anyone in Boonesbury to call. State police provide law enforcement on the rare occasions we need it, but since this isn’t an emergency it could be days or even weeks before they get around to sending someone. There’s a Social Services office in Fairbanks but I’d have to take Mickey to them.”

“That seems like what you should do, then,” Emmy said, still testing.

Until something else even more outlandish occurred to her.

“Unless he could be yours,” she said with a full measure of challenge in her tone.

But Aiden didn’t pick up the gauntlet she’d dropped. He didn’t raise his eyebrows at the very suggestion. He didn’t balk and defend himself in instant outrage.

Instead his slightly bushy eyebrows pulled into a frown that actually seemed unnerved by exactly that possibility.

“Could he be yours?” Emmy repeated in shock.

Again there was no quick denial.

In his own sweet time Aiden said, “I’m going to have to do some digging before I can answer that.”

Which obviously meant that there was a possibility Mickey might be his.

And for absolutely no reason Emmy could put her finger on, she felt a swell of something that seemed like jealousy. Although, of course that couldn’t have been what it was.

“Oh,” she said quietly, hating that she sounded so incredulous.

Aiden didn’t seem to notice, though. He was very serious now and he stopped feeding Mickey to level those incredible blue eyes on her. “I know it looks bad that there’s even the chance that I could have a baby I had no idea existed. You’re probably thinking it makes me an irresponsible jerk who shouldn’t be caring for Boonesbury’s citizens, let alone be the person who would oversee your grant money. But it isn’t like that.”

Actually she’d been too stunned to think anything. But she let silence pretend that was exactly what had been on her mind so he would go on.

Which was what he did.

“It’s a long, personal story,” he said. “But if Mickey is mine—and I’m not convinced that he is—but if he is, it was a matter of one night when I hit rock bottom and pickled myself in a bottle of scotch. Now that’s something I’d never done before and haven’t done since. But that night I ended up so out of it I don’t remember what happened. Until now I’d been sure nothing had, and that may still be the case. Mickey’s being left here could be something entirely separate from that night. From me. I just don’t know. But either way, I’ll have to find out what’s going on.”

Emmy stared at him. Intently. She searched his eyes, his handsome face. And she suddenly began to doubt that this was a test Howard had set up. This man was too uncomfortable admitting this to her, too embarrassed to have to admit it to her, for it not to be real.

“Did you call the woman who could be Mickey’s mother to ask if he’s yours?” Emmy inquired, maybe testing just a little more.

“The woman’s name is Nora Finley and I haven’t seen or heard from her since that night I thought I’d just given her a place to stay. She lives in a cabin a long way from anywhere and she doesn’t have a phone. She’ll have to be tracked down, and the best way to do that is to put out a message over the radio. There’s a station in Cochran—that’s the nearest town to Boonesbury. Their signal is strong so it gets picked up pretty far out. I called there and they’re going to report on Mickey on their newscast, requesting that anyone with any information about him contact me or the station, and they’ll be broadcasting regular messages from me to Nora, asking for Nora to contact me as soon as possible. That will all start tomorrow since they don’t air on Sunday.”

So he was trying to reach this woman over public airwaves to ask if they’d slept together, if she’d had his baby and if she’d left that baby on his doorstep?

No one would choose to do that unless they had to.

“This isn’t something Howard arranged in order to see how I handled complications and distractions on these trips, is it?”

Aiden shook his head. “I wish that’s all this was. But it isn’t. I told you that.”

“Someone actually packed up their child and brought him to you without warning or explanation.”

“I’m afraid that’s how it looks.”

“And it’s a coincidence that it happened now?”

“A lousy coincidence that I’m trying to make the best of.”

Maybe she was letting down her guard, but she believed him. It was all just too crazy to be invented, and in the light of day, looking at Aiden’s expression, she honestly didn’t think anyone could be that adept an actor.

“Okay, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt,” she finally said. “But if this is all something you and Howard devised—”

“Why would I risk all of Boonesbury’s medical future?” Aiden cut her off to ask. “I know your recommendation makes or breaks that grant. Even with Howard’s endorsement there are still six other votes that have to go Boonesbury’s way in order to get the money. If you go back and tell them not to give it to us, Howard’s one vote in our favor isn’t going to amount to a hill of beans.”

That was all true and swayed Emmy more in the direction of letting go of her assumption that Howard had arranged a trial by fire for her. Apparently Evelyn’s complaints that these trips rarely went smoothly had some merit.

But that was all right, Emmy consoled herself. She was good at multitasking and she’d put that into play here.

“Then I guess we’ll just deal with this along the way,” she finally said.

Mickey, who had lost interest in his applesauce and instead had turned his attention to Emmy, cooed at her as if he were giving his approval.

And Emmy, who had been trying not to notice how cute he was, finally gave in and laughed at him. “You like that idea, do you?” she asked the baby.

Mickey giggled as a reward.

“Does this mean you’ll do diaper duty?” Aiden asked, sounding relieved and relaxed again.

“Oh, no. There has to be a line drawn,” Emmy joked in response to the note of teasing in his tone. “The only diapers I’m signing on for are for kids of my own if I ever have any.”

“Guess I’ll have to take care of it, then, so we can get going. Will you keep an eye on him while I clear away his lunch?”

“That I’ll do,” Emmy agreed.

She was finished with her sandwich, so when Aiden got up from the chair in front of Mickey she replaced him.

The seat was still warm from his body, and of all the things to find sexy she didn’t think that should be one of them.

But that’s how it was just the same and it left her fighting images of his body wrapped all around her.

Luckily Mickey seemed to have made it his goal to entertain and charm her because he helped get her mind off the image by drawing her attention back to him with enthusiastic waves of his arms and kicks of his legs.

Only too willing to comply, Emmy grasped his feet in her hands and made a bicycle motion that delighted him as she studied him.

He was an absolutely adorable baby with those big brown eyes and those chubby cheeks. He had pale-brown hair that cupped his round head like feathers and two tiny teeth just beginning to poke through the center of his bottom gums.

“How could anybody leave you on a stranger’s doorstep?” she asked in a cooing sort of way that belied the words.

Mickey apparently responded to the tone rather than the content because he grinned at her and made a grab for her hair.

“That’ll hurt if you let him do it,” Aiden advised as he rejoined them.

“Oh, I think I could stand it,” Emmy said in a singsong as she rubbed Mickey’s knees with her nose to make him laugh.

“Don’t be too sure.”

Aiden had laid a towel on the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the cabin, and he took Mickey out of the car seat then to lay him on the towel to change him and get him into his snowsuit.

As he did, Emmy finished her coffee and washed her cup to replace it in the cupboard. Then, after Aiden had bundled the baby back into the carrier the way Mickey had been the previous night when they’d found him, Aiden put on that same jean jacket he’d worn the day before, tossed a few diapers, the pacifier and a bottle in a plastic bag to take with them, and carried the car seat outside to the SUV. With Emmy following behind.

“Why don’t you start the engine so it’ll warm up while I figure out how to strap this thing in the back seat?”

Again, no standing on ceremony.

But Emmy was getting used to the fact that things between them were so casual and she didn’t mind it. She was even beginning to like it a little.

“Okay,” she agreed, catching the keys Aiden tossed to her with an ease that seemed to impress him.

Emmy was waiting in the passenger seat and the engine was warm enough to produce heat before Aiden finally judged the carrier secure and slipped behind the wheel.

“I talked to Joan—the woman who owns the local store,” he said as he put the SUV into gear and pulled away from the cabin. “She’s meeting us at one-thirty so we can get the shopping over with before I show you around town. I didn’t think you should be doing a lot of walking until we got you a coat.”

“Okay.”

Something about that made him smile a smile that might have been a smirk on a less handsome face. “What? No more of the ‘I’m not susceptible to the cold’ stuff?”

“I’m conceding to your greater experience in the tundra,” she said as if she were merely humoring him.

“This is nothing compared to the tundra,” he said with a laugh. “But if you want to sneak a peek at that—”

“No, thanks. Boonesbury and the complete tour of the medical needs it serves will be fine.”

“In a warm coat,” he goaded. But his grin was every bit as infectious and charming as Mickey’s, only with a whole lot more grown-up appeal.

He went on looking at her out of the corner of his eye for a moment longer. Then he said, “I like your hair down better than in that librarian bun, by the way. The bun doesn’t suit you.”

“It has its purpose.”

“Probably to make sure Howard and the rest of the Old Boys take you seriously.”

Emmy’s expression must have shown her surprise—both at his correct assumption of the reason she wore the bun and at the term Old Boys.

As if Aiden knew what she was thinking even now, he said, “Yeah, they know you call them the Old Boys, so don’t ever say it without affection.”

“Howard told you that?”

“It came up. But since he’s the youngest of the trustees he figures you’re referring to everyone but him.”

“Great,” Emmy muttered to herself facetiously.

“There’s no offense taken, so don’t worry about it.”

The two-lane road they were on went over a ridge just then and began a steep decline that brought Boonesbury into view. It changed the subject as Aiden nodded with his chin in that direction.

“There she is—the town of Boonesbury.”

To call what Emmy was looking at a town seemed like an exaggeration.

It reminded her of the old frontier in Western movies. There was a single main street not more than four blocks long and so wide it was as if the buildings on one side were trying to keep their distance from the buildings on the other. What few cars and trucks were parked in front of the peeling-paint one-and two-story structures were aimed nosefirst to the curb and even then there was room for three regular-width lanes in between.

From the vantage point of the hill she could see houses all around what passed for Boonesbury’s thoroughfare, scattered as erratically as marbles tossed on the ground. Some of them were close enough together to be considered neighborhoods of sorts, others sat off alone as if anyone who had been inclined had staked out a plot of ground for themselves.

And that was it.

Which was exactly what Emmy said. “That’s it?”

“That’s the heart of the town. The business district, I suppose you could call it. There’s more—a lot more—that’s Boonesbury county, it’s just too widespread to see from any one spot.”

As they drove into town, Aiden pointed out the highlights of the businesses they passed.

They were all small businesses—no chain stores or recognizable names were anywhere to be seen—and only the bare necessities of the community seemed to be served.

There was a barber shop and a beauty shop side by side in the same building. An accountant and a lawyer shared an office. There was a mechanic. A tiny bank. An equally as tiny chapel for a church. An insurance office. And several other places that offered more than one interest per establishment—the Laundromat was also the library, the snowblower sales and repair shop was also the post office, the local mortician also sold real estate and acted as travel agent, and, as Aiden had said before, the only restaurant was also the mayor’s office and the gas station.

The general store was housed in the largest building, a white clapboard structure two levels high with a recessed front door and cantilevered display windows on either side of it.

Aiden parked in front, and once he’d taken the baby carrier out of the back seat they were let into the store by a tall woman with an extremely long nose and kind green eyes.

Aiden introduced her as Joan, and as Emmy went to explore the shop that carried everything from groceries to underwear to farm equipment, she could hear him telling the other woman about Mickey, asking if she recognized the baby or knew anything about him.

Joan didn’t, but before they left the store Emmy bought a down-filled parka, three sweaters, another pair of jeans and some warmer socks, and Aiden purchased a travel crib, more diapers, formula and baby food.

Introducing Emmy, showing off Mickey and telling his story, and asking about Nora Finley became a pattern once they’d left the store and begun their trek along the street. A number of the shops were closed, but there were still people milling around between the few that opened on Sunday, and since Aiden knew everyone they encountered, they all stopped to talk.

By midafternoon they’d gone completely up one side of the street and down the other with Aiden providing commentary about every building and most every owner and employee. Plus, Emmy had met more people than she’d ever be able to remember, and word of Mickey’s situation was well spread.

Aiden suggested they get in out of the cold for a cup of coffee and they ended up at the Boonesbury Inn—the only restaurant and bar.

It was a big adobe building with water-stained walls and four wooden steps up to a scarred double door.

The place was packed with people sitting on stools at the bar to watch a baseball game on the television, playing pool on the three tables that occupied the rear or sitting at the tables and booths where food was being served.

Aiden and Emmy got the last booth, which was where they spent the remainder of the day doing as they’d done through the rest of the city tour with people they hadn’t yet spoken to. But with no better results—no one recognized Mickey or knew anything about Nora Finley.