Be My Baby

Why, Mac wouldn’t care if she got stuck somewhere between home and work, but Donovan did. He’d just purchased a new four-wheel-drive truck last fall and had given her rides on a few of the worst days between then and now.

Of course, it helped that she was good friends with his wife, Sarah. Sarah worried about her and probably told Donovan to ask. But it didn’t matter who told him, Donovan was a nice guy who was right, her car wouldn’t make it if the storm hit.

Amelia’s old car was on its last legs—or tires as the case may be. But she’d just paid her brother’s last tuition payment, and as soon as she could save up a down payment, she was going to celebrate by buying a new car.

Brand new.

Something that had that new car smell.

Cloth seats at the very least.

Maybe even leather.

Her friend, Libby, had just bought a new car with automatic ignition and electric seat-warmers. Just push a little button from the warmth of your house, and then walk out five minutes later to a warm car and warm seats.

Oh, the utter decadent luxury of it all.

Soon Amelia would save enough money to get something like it. After years of taking care of other people, she would finally be able to concentrate on what she wanted.

Their dad had left them when Amelia was young, not that he’d ever really been with them, even when he still lived at home.

She hadn’t mourned her father’s leaving. But her mom…when she had died, Amelia thought her heart would break. She was only twenty-one, but knew what she had to do. She dropped out of college and took over as head of the family. Her brothers deserved all the breaks she could give them.

After scrimping and scraping for the last six years to get both Marty and Ryan through college, she was now a financially independent woman. She’d spent her life looking after people, now all she had to do was look after herself. She could do all the things she’d always dreamed of.

At least, she could if she could figure them out.

Maybe she’d go back to school. Maybe she’d take up skydiving. Maybe…

There was a world of opportunity out there. A new car with seat-warmers was just the start. Life was just waiting for Amelia Gallagher to discover it.

No, not Amelia.

That was a name that sounded weighted with responsibilities.

Mia.

Her family had always called her Mia when she was younger. When she was carefree. Somewhere along the line they’d stopped and she’d become Amelia.

Amelia. The responsible one. The one who took care of things…who took care of the rest of them.

Well, she was carefree again and she would soon discover what that meant. She was Mia again. Amelia might not know just what she was going to do, but Mia was going to figure it out.

Annoying attorneys forgotten, Mia continued to fantasize about all the things she could do now, starting with the car she was going to buy soon.

Very soon.

“This is just a stop-gap measure, Mr. Mackenzie. You’ll have to decide soon, very soon.”

“Legally, it’s my right.” Mac didn’t know many things—and at this moment, the biggest thing he didn’t know was what he was doing—but he knew the law.

“I don’t know if exercising that right is in the best interest of the child, and that’s all that concerns me,” Ms. Lindsay said, giving him a look that clearly stated that she was positive Mac couldn’t handle the job.

“Her mother named me guardian, and as such, it’s up to me to worry about Katie’s upbringing.”

He was responsible. The thought scared Mac to the very core of his being, and he was man enough to admit it. At least to himself.

He was responsible for a baby.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about her, but he was sure he wouldn’t drop the ball…not like his parents had.

He slammed the door shut on that thought.

He wouldn’t mess things up for this baby like his parents messed things up for him.

It wasn’t as if it was a life-long commitment. He would find her a home—a loving, dependable adoptive home with people who would love her and always be there for her—and that would be that.

It amazed him how much things had changed in just one short hour.

Just sixty minutes ago he’d returned Kim Lindsay’s call. Of all the things he’d expected, this wasn’t even the glimmer of a possibility. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of Esther Thomas’s living room with the mysterious Kim Lindsay.

She wasn’t someone he’d met and forgotten as Amelia had suggested. Leave it to Amelia to always suspect the worst of him. Just this once, he wished she’d been right. It would be so much easier if Kim Lindsay was just another person he’d met and could forget. But no, Ms. Lindsay was a social worker assigned to his case.

Not his case, but Katie O’Keefe’s case. It had been Kim Lindsay’s job to find out if the infant had any relatives to care for her and to make arrangements if she didn’t.

Katie O’Keefe didn’t have any relatives, but she had Mac.

Her guardian.

He was responsible for the baby. That was something Ms. Lindsay was having problems remembering.

“I already have a foster home lined up for her,” Ms. Lindsay said. “The super let me into Marion’s apartment and I found your name as her emergency contact.”

“Not an emergency contact, a guardian. I’ve shown you copies of all the papers.” He was glad that he’d thought to bring them.

“And you told me that you never imagined it would come to this, that you don’t know the first thing about babies, and don’t plan on keeping her. If that’s the case—”

“I’d be willing to keep her, for a fee. Just enough to cover the costs,” Esther Thomas wheedled.

Mac looked at Marion O’Keefe’s neighbor. She looked frail with age, hardly able to take care of herself, much less a baby.

“No,” he said, his response was quickly echoed by the social worker. They exchanged conspiratorial smiles. They might not agree on where Katie O’Keefe should stay, but they obviously had no trouble agreeing it wasn’t here.

“I mean,” Mac said when the old woman scowled, “while I appreciate all you’ve done for Katie, her mother wanted me to care for her, and that’s just what I’m going to do.”

“Ms. Thomas, would you excuse us a moment?” Ms. Lindsay asked.

“Yeah, whatever. Her mother never wanted me to baby-sit either, as if I can’t take care of a baby…” The older woman wandered down the hall, muttering to herself.