Leaving Enchantment

She’d reacted with total silence.

He’d repeated the story, adding details this time, getting up to pace, then collapsing into a chair. He’d rubbed the stubble on his face, watching Irene’s face turn blanker and blanker.

“I’ll make coffee.” He’d been in the kitchen, searching for a filter cone, when she’d started to scream.

That had woken Sammy, asleep in the spare room. As he’d assumed, Mary and Steve had dropped her off on their way to The Birth Center.

The little girl had wandered into the kitchen wearing something soft and pink. “Has Mommy had my baby sister yet?” she asked him.

Irene wasn’t screaming anymore, but sobbing loudly. Nolan had been stunned by Sammy’s question.

Explaining to Sammy what had happened was even harder than telling Irene. The little girl didn’t seem to believe him at first. He’d returned to the living room to try to deal with Irene. Unable to calm her down, he’d phoned her doctor.

Teresa Saramago’s number had been listed by the phone as one of Irene’s emergency contacts, and he’d called her, too. Apparently she had a daughter the same age as Sammy and did some occasional baby-sitting. She agreed to take in the child while he drove Irene to the hospital.

Hard to believe that had happened just two nights ago. Nolan turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

There was a little girl inside that house for whom he was about to become solely responsible. Nolan wasn’t married, or engaged, he didn’t even have a steady girlfriend. Thirty might be a little old to be living a footloose kind of lifestyle, but it suited him and the demands of his profession.

He wanted to restart his vehicle and drive the hell out of there. Instead, he got out slowly, his reporter’s eye ticking off details as he approached the home. A tricycle tipped over near the front step. A red plastic pail tucked into the shrubbery under the front window. Kids lived here, all right. Including, for the moment, his niece.

If only he could leave her here. It was a cowardly thought, but expressed his feelings on the matter exactly.

Nolan stopped in front of the freshly stained wooden door of the well-maintained home. A good mother lived here. She had kids of her own. She’d probably make a perfect surrogate parent for Sammy.

If only he had Steve’s mother for support. But Irene had been checked into the hospital and prescribed sedatives. She was still there now. Her friend and neighbor, Mabel Judson, was planning to pick her up tomorrow and keep her at her house until after the funerals. “For as long as she needs,” Mabel had said when they’d talked on the phone this morning.

It seemed that as well as inheriting a kid, he was getting his sister’s mother-in-law, too. A package deal he could have happily lived without.

Nolan let his knuckles fall against the door. Right away it opened. Teresa Saramago was visibly pregnant, carrying a toddler in her arms. She seemed tired and relieved to see him.

Two little girls stood behind the woman in the hall. One of them had Steve’s big eyes, Mary’s curly hair.

“Thanks for looking after Sammy,” Nolan began.

“We were glad to help,” the mother of two, soon to be three, replied. “I wish we could keep her longer, but I’m due myself in a few weeks.”

He nodded. “I understand.” He wondered if the woman had any idea how panicked he felt right now. How totally unprepared he was for this much responsibility. He felt awkward, standing in the hall, with the mother and two little girls watching him expectantly. What was he supposed to do? Tentatively he held out his hand to his niece.

Sammy started to cry.

“Sammy, you have to go with your uncle now,” the woman prompted gently. “You can visit again, soon.”

Sammy kept crying and Nolan cringed. This was impossible. Sammy wanted to stay here. He wanted Sammy to stay here.

The woman frowned slightly. She set down her toddler, in order to give Sammy a hug, then shot him a look charged with expectation.

He scooped Sammy into his arms, and she stiffened, turning her face away from his. Adjusting his grip awkwardly, he gave another quick thanks to Teresa, then hustled back to his car. As he bent to put his niece in the front passenger seat, the woman shouted from her doorway.

“She’s too little to sit in the front—because of the airbags. Put her in the back.”

Hell. He should’ve known that. He’d read articles about airbag injuries to children under the age of twelve. So he settled Sammy in the center of the back seat, making sure to tighten the lap belt securely.

He was in the driver’s seat, engine started, ready to head to his condo, when he realized he still hadn’t spoken a word to the little girl. He swiveled to face her.

“I’m your Uncle Nolan, Sammy. You probably don’t remember me, but I came to visit you the day after you were born. I bought you a teddy bear.”

“The white one?”

Damned if he could remember the color. “Um, I think so.”

Her head dropped, and she didn’t say anything else. He watched her a moment, then sighed and drove off. Which of them, he wondered, was the most terrified right now?

CHAPTER FOUR

TWO WEEKS LATER, Nolan’s spirits weren’t any higher. He’d buried his sister, his brother-in-law, his nephew. He grieved for them in the lonely hours of the night, but his days were crammed with activity. Looking after Sammy, meeting with the lawyers, then Steve’s accountant. He’d opened an estate bank account and had begun to deal with the financial aftermath of this mind-numbing tragedy.

Unfortunately, his sister’s family hadn’t been financially stable. They owed a lot on their expensive home and car. And Steve had just taken out an operating loan for his new business.

Add onto that the medical bill he’d just discovered this morning at their house and the whole situation turned very grim. Once the dust settled, Nolan was afraid there would be no nest egg for Sammy and her future education.

Nolan buckled his niece into the back seat of the Explorer and set off for The Birth Place. He might as well take care of this latest problem right away. According to the invoice he’d found, his sister’s account was already several months in arrears.

So far, most of Steve and Mary’s creditors had been sympathetic. They had an account with the dry cleaners, the dealership where they serviced their vehicle and several other local businesses. Nolan had met with most of them in the past two days. Everyone had been very kind, assuring him they were happy to wait until the assets had cleared probate before receiving their money.

He’d left Sammy at the Bulletin while he’d gone on those appointments, but poor Toni was already strained with the extra work he’d piled on her. Today he’d decided he just couldn’t expect her to add child care to her job list—even though she professed herself more than willing to help him out. She was too valuable an employee to abuse in that way. Besides, she wasn’t exactly young anymore.

Nolan pulled into the parking lot of The Birth Place. Steve and Mary owed this place more money than all the bills he’d dealt with so far combined. Still, he hoped the accountant here would be as sympathetic to his situation as the other creditors had been.

A MERE TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED since Lydia had put her in charge of the Mother and Child Reunion and already Kim had a venue booked, invitations designed and most of the guest list compiled. A few days ago, Lydia had taken her to lunch. Kim had run through her ideas and Lydia had approved every last one of them.

“Who have you got helping you so far?” she’d asked.

Kim had been vague in her reply. Didn’t Lydia think she was capable of handling the project on her own? Well, Kim was certainly going to show her.

A rap at Kim’s office door distracted her. Trish Linden apologized immediately for the interruption. “I know you’re busy, but someone would like to see you.”

People didn’t come to see Kim. Kim dealt with all her business over the phone. She frowned at Trish, but before she could ask for more details, Trish had backed out and a tall sandy-haired man strode into the room.

A little girl trailed behind him. Huge, sad eyes. Red, pursed lips. Her denim overalls were stained with something orange and her hair was a tangled mess. In her arms she carried The Giving Tree, a Shel Silverstein book.

The man smiled, a full-wattage grin that showcased great teeth and bright, intelligent eyes. He could have been a young college professor with his slightly rumpled jacket and curly hair worn a little too long. The look might be appealing to some women, but Kim didn’t trust the charm the man displayed so easily.

“Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Isn’t it obvious that you are? We don’t have an appointment, do we?”

His eyes widened. She could tell she’d surprised him with her rudeness, but she didn’t care. She’d been hired to work with numbers, not clients.