The Unclaimed Baby

By morning she’d reached only one conclusion. She knew she was going to have to call someone, Justin maybe, and report the baby turning up. She probably should have done it at once, but the instant Cord had placed the child in her arms, she had known she couldn’t let go until she could come up with a plan to keep the baby safe from whomever had abandoned it on her doorstep. Protecting the child was all that mattered.

She wanted to believe it was someone who’d chosen her store because he or she had known that Sharon Lynn would care for the baby. She tried to envision a mother desperate enough to let her child go but concerned enough to assure that the baby was in good hands.

But even as she tried to put the best possible spin on things, she couldn’t help thinking that the baby could have died, could have been left in that alley all alone, undiscovered, until it was too late. She knew that was what Cord thought had happened. He hadn’t believed for an instant that the baby was meant to be found. Skepticism had been written all over his face when she’d suggested it. The possibility that he could be right infuriated her.

How could anyone be so heartless? How could any mother do that? she wondered fiercely.

Then she recalled what Cord had deduced. The person doing the leaving had been a man. The baby’s father, perhaps? A man who couldn’t cope with his own responsibility for a newborn? Somehow that was even worse. She prayed for the chance to see that man rot in jail for his crime against the precious baby now sleeping in her room.

It hadn’t required a lot of detective work last night to determine that the baby was a girl. One diaper change had answered that question. The baby wasn’t a newborn. That question had been answered as well. The umbilical cord had healed. She had to be a few weeks old at least. That meant that the mother had held her and fed her and comforted her—and then let her go.

Which brought Sharon Lynn right back to the question that had been tormenting her all night long. How could any mother give up her baby, especially in such a cruel and heartless manner? Had an unwilling father or a new boyfriend been the one to take the baby and leave it in the alley? Why would any woman choose a sick man capable of doing that over her own precious baby?

Those were all questions for the authorities, but as the night had worn on, Sharon Lynn hadn’t been able to imagine letting them take the baby away while they searched for answers. There had to be some way she could become the child’s temporary guardian, if only to assure that the baby wouldn’t become just another statistic in the overburdened foster care system. She’d read too many horror stories about slip-ups, about babies sent home only to wind up beaten or dead within days or weeks. It wouldn’t happen to this child, not if she had anything at all to say about it.

At dawn she called her part-time employee, Patsy Driscoll, and asked her to open up at Dolan’s. Two hours later with the baby fed and her own breakfast churning acid in her stomach, she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to dial the sheriff’s office. To her dismay her cousin wasn’t in yet, but the new dispatcher clucked sympathetically at Sharon Lynn’s explanation for needing Justin and promised to track him down and get him to her house on the double.

“I can try him at home,” Sharon Lynn protested.

“No, indeed. You just take care of that child,” Maribel Hawkins insisted. “I’ll find the sheriff for you. With the roads a mess, people skidding into ditches and every deputy out on calls, there’s no telling where Justin might be. He hasn’t checked in with me yet, but that doesn’t mean he’s not on duty. He has a way of forgetting that it helps if I know where to find him.”

Sharon Lynn grinned at the touch of indignation in Maribel’s voice. She’d taken over while the regular dispatcher was out on maternity leave and her oft-stated goal was to change Justin’s lackadaisical ways. Obviously she was relishing this latest chance to chide him for not following the rules about reporting in at the start of the day. Maribel wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the fact that as the town’s newly elected sheriff, Justin was the one who made the rules.

“Don’t forget he could be at Dolan’s having breakfast,” Sharon Lynn said.

“Believe me, honey, I know all the man’s hiding places. He’ll be over there in a heartbeat.”

True to Maribel’s promise, Justin arrived within minutes, looking disheveled and cranky. Apparently the dispatcher had dragged him out of bed on what had turned out to be his first day off in two weeks. A newlywed, he was none too pleased about that or about the reason for it.

“Maybe I was still half asleep, maybe I didn’t hear dispatch right,” he said as he came in the front door without bothering to knock. “Maribel said somebody left a baby on your doorstep last night.”

There was enough censure and disbelief in his tone to have Sharon Lynn scowling at him defiantly. “That’s correct.”

His voice climbed. “And the reason you didn’t notify me before now would be?”

“Because it was late and I figured there wouldn’t be a thing you could do before morning anyway. Cord and I had things under control here.”

His scowl deepened. “Cord?”

“Another story,” she said dismissively. If Justin was this worked up over the baby, she could just imagine what he’d have to say about the stranger who’d been a big part of the night’s events. Thankfully he let the mention of Cord pass.

He glanced around the living room. “Where’s the baby?” he asked.

“Sleeping, or at least she was until you came in here bellowing.” Hands on hips, she faced him belligerently. “Tone it down, or you can leave right now.”

“I don’t think so.”

They scowled at each other for a full minute, before she finally relented and led the way to her bedroom. The baby was squarely in the middle of her bed, surrounded by pillows. She was so tiny, so precious, with her halo of soft blond curls and rosy cheeks. Her solemn, watchful eyes seemed to fix on Sharon Lynn. Just looking at her was enough to fill Sharon Lynn’s heart with joy. With her gaze immediately drawn to the sleeping child, she moved to the edge of the bed and skimmed a finger across a pudgy cheek.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” she whispered.

“Oh, no,” Justin said, his gaze locked on her and not the baby.

Sharon Lynn blinked at his fierce tone, then glanced up at him. “What?”

“You can’t keep her, Sharon Lynn.”

She had known that, of course, but something in Justin’s voice riled her. Her stubborn streak kicked in. She lifted her chin. “Why not?”

“You know perfectly well why not. She’s not yours.”

“Well, obviously the mother doesn’t want her.”

“Unless she was kidnapped,” he suggested.

Sharon Lynn swallowed hard. It was one explanation she had never even considered. Kidnapped babies were held for ransom. They weren’t abandoned. Were they?

“You don’t seriously think…”

He raked a hand through his hair and snapped impatiently, “I don’t know what to think. I would have known a hell of a lot more by now if you’d told me about her last night, if I’d been able to check out the alley behind the store for any evidence, and if I’d had time to check all the faxes about missing kids.”

“Do that now,” she said reasonably. “Whatever evidence was in that alley hasn’t gone anywhere. As for the faxes, I’ve seen your desk. They haven’t gone anywhere, either.”

“I’ll do all that right after I take her to the hospital to be thoroughly checked out and call social services,” he said. “They’re going to love being hauled out on a Saturday after a blizzard.”

Sharon Lynn instinctively moved between her cousin and the baby. “My point exactly. If it’s going to be such a bother, then don’t call them.”

His expression turned sympathetic. “Sweetie, there are procedures in cases like this. You know this is what has to be done.”

“She’ll just end up in foster care, unless you locate the mom, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then let her stay with me. I’ll call Grandpa Harlan. He can pull a few strings and get me temporary approval as a foster parent. It’s not as if I’m an unfit candidate for it. We can call Lizzy to come check her out medically, if that will make you happy. She’s practically a full-fledged doctor. She’s doing her residency in Garden City, while granddaddy builds that clinic he promised her here in town. It’ll be by the book.” She beamed at him, then shrugged at his intractable scowl. “More or less.”

“Sharon Lynn—”

“Justin, this is the way it’s going to be,” she said fiercely, ready to fight him on this if she had to.

“That baby would have died last night if Cord and I hadn’t found her. I’m not letting her out of my sight until I know she’s going to be safe. Whoever left her there doesn’t deserve to live, much less have the baby given back to them.”

“Well, of course not, but—”

“No buts. You know I’m right. You know she’s better off with me, at least for the time being. I feel like I owe her that much.”

She watched his face intently, saw the worry, the indecision and prayed he’d go along with her on this. Justin had a powerful sense of right and wrong, a fierce dedication to playing by the rules. She knew she was probably asking him to break a million of them.

“Please,” she begged. “Just think of what’s best for the baby. Think of all the trauma she’s already been through. She’s here now, she’s warm and safe. Don’t start dragging her around again now, just so you can cross all the t’s and dot all the i’s on your paperwork.”