Hannah's Baby

And yet the way he had stopped dead in his tracks when he had read the message, not to mention the byplay of emotion across his face, made her sure he was dealing with something very personal.

As she drifted off to sleep, Hannah was still wondering what could have caused him to react like that.

The next thing she knew, she was waking to the hysterical shriek of the baby in the crib beside her bed. She bolted upright, as Isabella screamed in terror. Hannah flung back the covers. In the opposite bed, Joe did the same. Hannah picked up Isabella, soothing her with words and touch. To no avail. Isabella looked at Hannah as if she had never seen her before in her life. Tears streaming from her dark eyes, she screamed and kicked and flailed. Joe turned on a light.

He came toward them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Hannah walked Isabella back and forth. She gently rubbed her daughter’s back, soothing her all the while. “I think it might be a night terror.” She had read about the sleep disturbance in infants. “She looks like she’s awake…”

“But she’s really still in the midst of a nightmare.” Joe spoke to be heard above the crying.

Hannah nodded.

He began speaking Mandarin Chinese. Hannah had no idea what he was saying, but the sound of his low, masculine voice soothed Isabella—and Hannah—in a way her English words could not.

As Hannah continued to sway the baby back and forth, Joe kept murmuring to her child. Slowly, the wailing diminished, and the tears stopped flowing. Before long, Isabella’s eyes slowly shut again.

Her own body relaxing in relief, Hannah held her baby close, rocking her gently back and forth, letting the rise and fall of her own chest synch with Isabella’s. Until finally, her little girl was limp in her arms once again. Hannah carefully eased Isabella back into the port-a-crib and covered her with a blanket.

Trembling with delayed reaction to the tumultuous event, Hannah sat down on the side of the bed.

Her heart still racing, she watched over her baby for signs of further distress. There were none.

Concerned, Joe brought her a bottle of water.

Hannah drank deeply. He touched her shoulder briefly, his palm as warm and comforting against her bare skin as his verbal reassurances had been to her infant daughter.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered.

Feeling like she could drown in the empathy in his eyes, knowing it would be all too easy to depend on his inherent kindness, she nodded. Seconds later, they turned off the light.

As Hannah lay back against the pillows, her breath shallow in her chest, she wondered what had frightened the baby so. Was Isabella remembering the night she had been abandoned in a city park by the family who could not care for her? Nights and days spent in an orphanage where again it seemed like she was all alone? Or was she afraid of the changes and unfamiliar faces?

All Hannah knew for sure was that she would do anything to protect her baby. Isabella needed to know she had family now. A family who would always love her and care for her, a family she could count on.

Isabella would never be forsaken again, Hannah vowed fiercely. She would see to that.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S going to be a delay?” Hannah asked the international adoption agency representative who had come to their suite.

Joe turned to the bearer of bad news.

The Hong Kong–born woman in charge of all legal matters was deeply apologetic. “We have just received word that our English interpreter has fallen ill. Our appointment with the local court is in one hour. We cannot get a suitable replacement that quickly. So all the English-speaking families in the group will have to reschedule for next week. The French and Italian families will proceed as scheduled.”

Joe watched the color drain from Hannah’s cheeks. He could imagine what she was thinking. International adoptions were orchestrated very carefully. A single glitch could cause the process to be set back for weeks or months. A lengthy delay would not only cost her thousands of additional dollars she might not have to spend, it could also prompt the Taiwanese authorities to send Isabella Zhu Ming back to the orphanage, until all was in order again.

Any obstacle to Isabella legally becoming Hannah’s child was unbearable. “Can’t you act as interpreter?” she asked the woman emotionally.

The representative shook her head. “While my English is fine, my Mandarin is rudimentary. The magistrate will be asking questions, and your answers to him must be correctly translated.”

Once again, Joe found himself getting involved despite his better judgment. “I speak the language fluently.” Before he knew it, he was on his way to the local court with the rest of the group. And Hannah Callahan was looking at him with more gratitude than ever before….

Once the adoptive families arrived, they were ushered into a waiting room and then called in to the judge’s chambers, one by one.

Joe served as interpreter for two other families before it was Hannah’s turn to appear with Isabella. As in other cases before the magistrate, vital statistics for both were verified. Then came the questions that were even more important.

“Are you adopting this baby girl as a single parent?”

“I am,” Hannah answered.

Her reply was translated. Then the next question came and was similarly transposed so she could understand. “Do you plan to someday marry?” Joe inquired for the court.

Hannah hesitated, her eyes locking with his momentarily, before she turned back to the bench. And in the silence that fell Joe found he was—surprisingly—almost as interested to hear her reply as the judge.

“I will only marry if the man loves Isabella as much as I do and will promise to be there for her always,” Hannah stated plainly.

Her answer was relayed. The judge nodded, his gaze approving—but stern. Another question in Mandarin.

Again, Joe translated. “Who will care for this child?”

Hannah’s voice rang with the certainty of a promise made and kept. “I will.”

“Will you be with the child during the day or will you be at work?” was the judge’s next inquiry.

“I will take the baby with me to the store where I work. I can do this,” she explained, “because my family owns the store.”

Gus might have something to say about that, Joe thought. Then again, given the look of determination on Hannah’s face, maybe Gus would not have a say, at all….

“Do you promise to love this child always?”

As soon as she understood the question, Hannah’s heart was in her voice, and her eyes shone with tears. “Yes. I will always love her.”

“Do you promise to never abandon her?” Joe asked for the judge, looking deep into Hannah’s eyes. Yet already knowing the answer as surely as he was beginning to know her.

“I promise that with all my heart,” she said thickly. And this time a single tear—of pure and unadulterated happiness—did fall.

TO HANNAH’S DELIGHT, ISABELLA Zhu Ming Callahan’s adoption was approved and her HHR—household registry—was changed to reflect this. The adoption then became legal and final. And it was off to a clinic with the rest of the babies to have a rudimentary physical examination that consisted of a palpitation of her abdomen, a listen to her heart and lungs, a measurement of her head, and movement of her arms and legs.

That quickly, she was pronounced healthy, a rubber stamp affixed to the required medical exam papers. After the groups split up to keep their preset appointments with the various consulates, the three of them headed to the American Institute in Taiwan. In the consular section on the third floor, another interview commenced—this one all in English—and an immigrant visa was issued for Isabella Zhu Ming Callahan.

Hannah didn’t know whose smile was broader—hers or Joe’s—as they left the AIT. It had been six hours since they had left the hotel, and although Isabella had enjoyed several bottles of formula, neither she nor Joe had eaten. The hotel was a half-hour cab ride away. The dinner hour was upon them. Aware what a trooper he’d been, and how little she’d done to see to his comfort on this trip, she offered a tentative smile. “We should celebrate,” she said.

Joe grinned back, looking more content and at ease than she had ever seen him. “We should,” he agreed.

The question was where, she thought, acutely aware that this was suddenly feeling more like an impromptu date than a mission to be accomplished. “Any ideas?” she asked, trying not to notice how strong and handsome Joe looked standing there beside her.

Joe slid his hands in his trouser pockets. “We could have dinner at a place I know.” He maintained the casual attitude he’d exuded all day. “It’s not too fancy but the food is amazing.”

Wishing she had time to freshen up, Hannah used her free hand to push the hair from her face. “Sounds great.”

There was no chance to converse en route because Joe was busy giving the driver directions in Mandarin Chinese. Upon arrival, Hannah took Isabella to the ladies’ room to change her damp diaper. When she returned, Joe was on his cell. He looked…stressed.

“I think you should calm down.” He shot her an apologetic look for the interruption and kept right on giving counsel. “Girls that age break up with their boyfriends all the time. If Valerie thinks it was time for Elliott to hit the road, then I’m sure it was. Yeah, I will. But I don’t think she’s going to call me. Bye, Aunt Camille.”

His expression taut with displeasure, he ended the connection and addressed her. “Sorry about that. I’d had about ten messages from them today. I really needed to call my aunt and uncle back.”

Although very open about many aspects of his life, Joe had said very little about his family. She was glad he’d brought it up. “You’re close to them?”

For a second, Joe hesitated. His expression became even more circumspect. “They became my guardians when my mom and dad were killed in a train derailment while on vacation in Spain.”

Hannah knew how hard it had been, losing her mom just two years ago. It had to have been much tougher for him to lose both parents at once. “How old were you?” she asked sympathetically.

“Nine.” He looked over at Isabella, and she leaned toward him, indicating she wanted to go to him for a while. “I lived with my aunt and uncle and their three kids for about a year, and then I went to a boarding school after that.” He held out his arms to the baby.

“Was going away to school a tradition in your family?” she asked, handing Isabella to him.

He propped Isabella against his shoulder, so she could look out at the other patrons in the small homey restaurant. She rested her cheek against his shirt, wreathed one arm about his neck and clutched his sleeve with her other hand.

“I’m the only one who went.” Joe surveyed Hannah while he cuddled Isabella close, the tenderness of the gesture bringing a lump to Hannah’s throat. “But it was a good experience,” he continued matter-of-factly. “It made me independent at an early age.”

Independent, or unable to settle down? Hannah wondered. Trying not to think how sad that was, she mixed formula in the baby bottle, capped it with the nipple and shook it vigorously.

Joe leaned back, allowing the waitress to put the menus in front of them. “Anyway, yesterday the family discovered that Valerie dropped out of summer classes and moved out of her college dorm without discussing it with them first.”

“Why would she do that?” Ready to feed the baby, Hannah held out her arms.

Joe slid Isabella into her embrace. “Apparently, she and her boyfriend broke up. She decided she could no longer be on the same campus as he was—they were both in summer school at a private liberal arts college just outside Austin. She contacted the registrar, told them she was quitting the university and took off.”

She situated Isabella with the bottle. Again the baby faced away from her, as was her preference while she fed. “And no one told her parents?”

The waitress appeared with two cups of green tea. “Valerie told her student advisor she was going to do that.”

“But she didn’t.” Hannah pointed to what she wanted on the menu.

Joe placed his order, then continued catching her up. “Valerie told them about the breakup—she didn’t tell them about the dropping-out-of-school part. So when my aunt and uncle flew down from their summer place in Aspen yesterday to check on Valerie and found out what happened, they were livid. They found her staying with one of her girlfriends in San Antonio and demanded she meet with them immediately. She said no and took off again to parts unknown.”

Joe exhaled in frustration. “Ten minutes after the conversation with my aunt—who can be a little, uh, shall we say controlling—Valerie withdrew enough cash from her ATM to last her a while. Anyway, that’s why they were so desperate to talk to me last night and why I went down to the lobby to return their call. They thought she might try to stay with me, since I’ve been living in Texas temporarily.”

Isabella finished her bottle. Hannah sat her up on her lap, facing Joe. “Only you’re not in Texas right now.”

“But Valerie doesn’t know that, since I didn’t tell the family I would be over here with you.” He paused, explaining, “When they need me, they contact me by e-mail…or cell. Other than that, we don’t communicate a lot.”

Isabella burped softly, a bubble of milk covered her lower lip. Joe leaned over and dabbed it with a cloth napkin.

Hannah smiled at the display of tenderness. He was a natural, when it came to kids. “Are you and Valerie close?” she asked curiously.

Again, that self-protective expression. “Let’s just say we have similar standings in the family,” Joe remarked quietly.

Similar standings? What did that mean? And why did she see a flash of sorrow in his eyes just now?

“Anyway, I’m sure she’s fine.” Joe’s emotions were veiled again. “My cousin will turn up—but not until she is ready.”

Joe spent the rest of the meal regaling her with tales of his exploits in China and Taiwan. Just hearing about his experiences thrilled Hannah, and it was with great reluctance that they returned to their suite.

Hannah stood slightly to the side as Joe unlocked the door with the electronic key card. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”

He held the door for her, his tall body radiating warmth and strength. “Thanks for the company.” He stepped back to let her pass, then followed her inside. He shut the door behind them, the action cloaking them in the intimacy of shared space.

He smiled. “I can’t remember when I’ve had two such charming dinner companions.” Coming near once more, Joe tucked his index finger into Isabella’s fist. Isabella looked up at him with the solemn expression Hannah was beginning to love so much.

Regretting the fact that their time together was about to end, Hannah asked him wistfully, “Do you think she’ll ever smile?”

Joe nodded, as certain as Hannah was unsure. “She will when she’s sure she’s here to stay. That this isn’t all some wonderful dream she’s having.”

His affection for her child kindled feelings in Hannah—for him. She kicked off her shoes and sank down onto the edge of the bed, with Isabella still in her arms. “She is wonderful, isn’t she?”

Joe sat down next to Hannah and smoothed a hand through Isabella’s soft hair. “And then some.”

For a moment they reveled in the wonder of the child they had both come to know.

They studied one another. Hannah couldn’t be sure, but she thought—hoped—Joe was fighting a desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. The same way she was fighting not to kiss him.

Working hard to keep her feelings in check, she turned her glance to the suitcases that still had to be packed. “And tomorrow we go back to Texas.” To real life. Away from the fantasy and wonder of this magical time in Taiwan…

Joe caught her hand in his. “I thought you’d be happier about that.”

She looked down at their entwined palms. It was a friendly gesture. Nothing more. Yet his touch felt so good…so right. “I’m worried about my dad,” she admitted.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go. “Gus is going to love Isabella when he sees her.”

Hannah gave Joe a skeptical look.

“How could he not?” he asked.

How, indeed? Hannah wondered.

“YOU SURE YOU WANT ME TO GO IN with you?” Joe guided his Land Rover into a space in front of Callahan Mercantile & Feed.

Gus’s truck was still out front, Hannah noted. Which was no surprise. Her dad often went in early, getting there at least an hour before the 7:00 a.m. opening, and staying at least an hour after it closed for the day. Sundays were a little lighter, but he was still there at least eight hours. The schedule, plus his refusal to ever take a vacation—never mind retire—had contributed to his heart attack. Hannah was afraid if he didn’t slow down, he would have another one.

“Because if you’d like to go it alone, have me wait out here for you…or just go on home…it’s fine.”

Hannah knew Joe was thinking this was a private matter, and it would have been, had she not been so afraid of Gus’s reaction the first time he set eyes on Isabella. Feigning more courage than she felt, she quipped, “Actually, Joe, I could use a human shield right about now.”

And like it or not, since the store had closed an hour before, Joe was likely it.

“So if you don’t mind…”

“I’d be glad to assist you, ma’am.” Joe tipped an imaginary hat at her and got out from behind the wheel. He opened the rear passenger door and waited while Hannah unbuckled the straps keeping the sleeping Isabella in her car seat. Carefully, she handed her daughter over to Joe. Then she climbed out on stiff legs.

She felt awful and exhausted, after the twenty-six hours in the air, two standing in line in immigration, and another four in the car. But this had to be done.

“Relax. It’s going to be fine.” Joe carried Isabella as far as the front door.

Savoring his reassurance, even if she didn’t quite believe it, Hannah unlocked the door and pocketed her store keys. “Keep saying that,” she murmured as he handed the now-stirring Isabella back to her.

Joe held the door open and Hannah squared her shoulders. Plastering a smile on her face, she marched on through. Gus was on a metal stocking ladder at the rear of the store, placing stadium blankets on cubbyhole shelves just beneath the ceiling. “Dad?”

He turned. The expression on his face was wary rather than welcoming. Her heart sank.

“Hannah,” Gus greeted her curtly.

Resentment and sorrow mingled inside of her. Stronger than that, however, was her determination to make this right. Isabella had come a long way. She had been through a lot. She deserved a better greeting from the only grandfather she was ever going to have. Hannah worked to keep her tone cordial. “Come down and meet your new granddaughter.”

Gus plucked another blanket off the platform on the back of the stocking ladder. He turned his back to them. “Can’t right now. I’m busy.”

He wasn’t doing anything that couldn’t wait, she thought furiously.

Joe’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

In Hannah’s arms, Isabella stirred. Eyes still closed, she opened her cherubic mouth in a sweet, drowsy yawn.

Her father missed that. He was missing everything. Hannah’s temper began to boil.

Damn it, this was an important day in her life and her father was ruining it by acting like a stubborn old fool!

Ever so gently, she transferred her baby to Joe.

Hands knotted at her sides, she walked to the rear of the store, got a second stocking ladder, and wheeled the twenty-foot apparatus over to the other. Deliberately, she turned it so it faced his. Her emotions still soaring, she began climbing.

Her father’s frown deepened with every step she climbed. A mixture of disapproval and resentment tugged his lips into a frown. “Hannah, I do not have time to quarrel with you. I’ve got work to do this evening.”

Too late, Hannah realized this was a showdown she should have had with her dad before she left. Instead of just waiting and hoping he would mellow over time. She stopped when she was at eye level with him. “Tough. This once, Dad, you’re going to hear me out.”

Gus shot a look at Joe who was standing a good twenty feet away, Isabella snuggled in his arms, then turned back to Hannah. Gus’s expression remained grim as he warned, “We can do this later, young woman! In private.”

She had never really stood up to her dad—until now. “We’ll do it now.” She matched his contentious tone.

He blinked. Obviously stunned, he demanded, “What’s gotten into you?”

Tears stung Hannah’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me. The same thing that used to get into Mom when you were out of line with me!” Only now her mom wasn’t here to play peacemaker and convince her father that what Hannah wanted—needed—wasn’t so outrageous after all.

If she wanted him to understand her, support her, she was going to have to persuade him to do so herself. And that meant talking with him, even when he was like this!

Sighing, Hannah gripped the sides of the stocking ladder and continued, emotionally, “I love you, Dad. More than I can say. But I am not—I repeat not—going to let you disrespect my child.”

Gus looked shocked. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing!” Hannah paused as she saw him reach into his shirt pocket and then clutch his chest, as if in pain. “Dad!” Hannah cried.

Too late. He had already pitched to the left and lost his footing. Arms flailing, he fell sideways.

Helpless to do anything to prevent his swift awkward descent, Hannah watched in terror. Only later did she realize that the scream she heard as Gus slammed into a display of flannel shirts and jeans, was her own.

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