Lone Star Baby

* * *

“WHY NOT ADMIT you made a mistake with this whole glamping thing and move in with me temporarily,” Violet’s oldest sister, Poppy, said the next day when she arrived to assess Violet’s storage needs. Fiercely independent, and the only single-birthed daughter of Jackson and Lacey McCabe—who also boasted a set of twins and triplet daughters—Poppy was an interior designer, known for her practicality, efficiency and style.

“I just need a neat and inexpensive way to organize my clothes so I’m not tripping over them or rooting through boxes and suitcases for the next few months.”

And, Violet thought, still getting hot and bothered whenever she thought about it, she especially didn’t need to be rolling around on her bed kissing Gavin Monroe! Not that she was obsessing over their hot, sexy clinch or anything.

Poppy walked around the large space, measuring, thinking, making notes. She swung back around. “I have plenty of room in my bungalow, you know.”

Violet looked at the gray clouds on the horizon. “Thanks, sis, but I’d rather be here.”

Poppy frowned. “Aren’t you lonely?”

She sure hadn’t been last night. Gavin had stayed another hour and a half, as they’d taken their time with the questionnaires, debating each fine point, wondering what would be best for their tiny charge.

But at least he hadn’t tried to kiss her again when he left—

The sound of a big tractor-trailer roaring up the lane jerked Violet from her reverie.

She and Poppy moved to the open screen door. They looked out to see the arrival of the big steel Dumpster for the construction debris, and another six pickup trucks carrying the workers.

“I mean, it’s so quiet out here in off-hours. And it looks like it’s going to be really noisy during work hours.”

“I can handle that.” Violet pointed to her headphones. “As for the rest of the time, I like my solitude.”

Her sister’s gaze narrowed. “Too much sometimes?”

Everyone had thought that, after Sterling died. What they hadn’t understood was how much the alone time had helped Violet to process her loss and work through not only her grief but the many mistakes she had made, the countless ways she had let Sterling down.

Now, finally, she was ready to move on.

She just wasn’t sure to where or to what.

All she knew for sure was that she felt stuck. And the only way to get out of her rut was to seek change. Big, life-altering change. In the meantime, though...

“I have the transformation of McCabe House to keep me occupied.” She glanced at her watch. “And I have to get to the hospital, too.”

“To check on the baby you and Gavin are temporary guardians for?”

Violet nodded, aware that with the exception of the four phone calls she’d made to the nurses’ station in the Special Care Nursery, she had sort of been delaying going back there in person. For reasons she didn’t really understand.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance the baby could go to a couple who isn’t married?”

Violet knew that Poppy and her best friend, the currently deployed Lieutenant Trace Caulder, were trying to adopt—without getting married.

“The mother’s wishes were clear. She wanted her baby to have a mother and a father who are in a committed relationship, if possible.” She continued walking around with her older sister, showing her the space. “So Gavin and I talked it over and decided it would be best if Ava went to a married couple with an established family unit.”

Poppy stopped to measure a length of windowless wall. “Which would put me and Trace out of the running, since the good lieutenant isn’t due back in the United States for a visit for another ten months or so.” She sighed wistfully.

Violet held one end of the tape measure for her. “Ava needs new parents as soon as possible. Luckily, Mitzy is expediting the process. So it all should happen fairly quickly.”

“It’s a good thing that, unlike me, you don’t fall completely in love with every infant you see.”

Violet bit her lip. Truth was, the pang of longing she’d felt deep inside when she’d gotten her first glimpse of little Ava had caught her completely off guard. And she hadn’t even held her in her arms yet!

But, for obvious reasons, she wasn’t about to admit that to her sister.

Poppy jotted down a final set of numbers. She looked back up, a fleeting sadness in her eyes as the two of them strolled toward the door. “Anyway, back to your current storage problem... I’ll pull a solution together for you and then let you know what we’re going to need.”

“Thanks, Poppy.” Violet gave her big sister a hug and watched as she drove off. She signed off on the delivery of the Dumpster, talked to the construction foreman, then headed into town, the completed questionnaires in tow.

Mitzy was out on a home visit, so she left the paperwork at her office, then went on to the hospital. Carlson Willoughby was undergoing the first of several days of testing. Since the results weren’t yet in, she went up to the nursery to check on their charge and caught her breath at what she saw.

Gavin, sitting beside the incubator, a blanket-wrapped baby Ava cuddled gently in his arms. The tiny infant had a pink cap on her head, a nasal cannula still assisting her breathing, monitors that measured her heartbeat and breathing visible beneath the soft white blanket that surrounded her.

Her eyes were shut and she appeared to be sleeping.

Violet could hardly blame her.

To be held against that strong, warm chest, cradled so tenderly by those brawny arms...

Violet grabbed a sterile gown, put it on over her clothes and slipped into the small, dimly lit visiting room behind the glass window.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Gavin looked up at her. “The nurses wanted me to hold her for a little bit.”

She ambled closer. “I can see that.”

The tenderness in his expression made him all the more handsome. “I have to admit, I never really understood why the parents of premature infants were so loath to leave the nursery and head home to rest.”

She nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. “But you get it now.”

He shot her a knowing grin. “You should give it a try.”

“I don’t want to interrupt...”

He stood and gestured toward the comfortable recliner-rocker he’d been sitting in.

Unable to summon a reason why she shouldn’t start fulfilling her duties as temporary guardian, too, Violet took his place in the seat that still held his warmth. And the enticing soap-and-man scent of his skin.

Gently, he transferred Ava to her arms.

The preemie was incredibly light and fragile, at just a little more than four pounds. As Violet looked down at Ava, a wave of tenderness unlike anything she had ever felt swept through her.

Gavin pulled another chair up to sit beside Violet. Together, they watched the sleeping baby. Neither speaking. Barely moving. Yet united just the same.

Who knew how long they would have stayed that way had Bridgette, the nurse on duty, not come in to reluctantly interrupt. “It’s time to put Ava back in the warmer. But if you’d like to come back later this evening to help us try to get her started on drinking formula from a bottle, that would be great.”