Hometown Honey

“There’s my little man,” Cindy said with a dopey, maternal smile, holding out her arms. “Bet you need a diaper change.” She glanced at Luke as she took the baby. “Don’t worry, I’ll open some portholes first.”

He laughed. “I’m not worried. You want me to get you a diaper?”

She pointed to a box of disposables and a container of baby wipes, and she proceeded to efficiently change Adam’s diaper.

“Where do you bathe?” Luke blurted out. Though it sounded as if he was being nosy, this really was his business, he told himself.

“The marina has a very nice bathroom with showers and everything.”

“So Adam’s a shower man.”

“He’s learning. We shower together.”

Luke didn’t want to dwell on the image that popped into his mind.

“Cindy…you can’t stay here.”

“Why not? We’re managing just fine. Anyway, it’s only temporary, just until I figure out what to do.”

“Does this place have any heat?”

“No. But the weather’s very mild right now.”

“It’s October. You know the weather can change in a heartbeat.”

“I’ll deal with that problem when I come to it.”

They were saved from further argument by another knock on the hatch. For a moment, Cindy had a look on her face that reminded Luke of a scared rabbit.

“You want me to get that?”

“Would you, please?” She was just snapping up Adam’s pajamas. “And if it’s those women, tell them I’ll talk to them when I’m ready, not before,” she added crossly.

Luke climbed the steps and unfastened the barrel bolt. He pushed the hatch outward and found himself staring into the round, brown eyes of an attractive African-American woman wearing a worn sweaterdress, white stockings and scuffed black pumps. Not exactly boating clothes.

She smiled uncertainly. “Hi, I’m Beverly Hicks. I’m looking for a Cindy Lefler?”

Alarm bells went off in Luke’s head. The woman’s appearance and demeanor screamed one thing to him—government employee. Required to dress up for work but not paid enough to look slick or stylish. Polite demeanor with just a hint of authority.

“You’ve got the right place,” Luke said. Keeping her out wasn’t going to help Cindy in the long run.

“How can I help you?” Cindy said coolly.

“I’m from Social Services. I’ve had a report that you’re living with a baby on this boat.” Beverly Hicks looked pointedly at Adam, then at the stack of boxes.

Damn. The social worker had picked the worst possible time to show up—when the boat was redolent with a used Huggie. Luke grabbed the plastic bag that held the old diaper. “I’ll take care of this.” He’d seen a trash barrel on the dock and he exited the boat in search of it.

When he returned, Beverly was going through the same list of questions Luke had just asked Cindy—bathroom facilities, sleeping arrangements, heating and cooling. And she apparently didn’t like the answers she was getting, judging from the frown and the decisive way she scribbled on a form attached to a clipboard.

Cindy wasn’t exactly helping matters with her confrontational attitude, either.

“Ms. Hicks, does this baby look neglected or abused to you?”

Adam, at that moment, was bouncing on Cindy’s knee, laughing as if this were the greatest entertainment in the world. Anyone could see he was happy, plump and healthy, dressed in clean clothes that fit him well.

“No, he looks very happy,” Beverly agreed. “But I have to follow the guidelines,” she added, not without sympathy. “Someone made a complaint about you.”

“Who?” Cindy shot back. “Who complained?”

“I have to keep that information confidential. But I have to ascertain that certain criteria are being met. And clearly they aren’t. The baby doesn’t even have his own bed.”

“He sleeps with me. Lots of parents let their little ones sleep in their bed.”

“But the rules state the child has to have his own bed. And a place to bathe. And heat.”

Oh, boy, Luke thought. He didn’t like the sounds of this.

“This is only temporary,” Luke put in. He extended his hand to the social worker. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Luke Rheems. I can vouch for Cindy—she’s a really great mother.”

Beverly shook his hand, silently appraising him. “I’m sure Ms. Lefler does the very best she can. Still, these arrangements aren’t satisfactory. Adam is ambulatory. He could wake up, walk outside, fall off the boat and drown.”

“That would never happen!” Cindy objected.

“Nevertheless, I’m afraid I’ll have to take temporary custody of Adam. We’ll put him in foster care until you can make other living arrangements that meet the state’s requirements.”

Cindy looked horrified. She wrapped her arms around Adam. “You are not taking my baby. No. No way.”

Beverly looked at Luke, pleading for understanding. “You’re in law enforcement. You understand how these laws work, don’t you?”

Unfortunately he did. But he agreed totally with Cindy. No way was Adam going into foster care. The mere thought of what could happen to a baby dropped into the hands of supposedly caring, qualified strangers made that instant coffee he’d drunk churn bitterly in his stomach.

“There must be some other way to deal with this,” Cindy said, obviously struggling not to lose her cool completely.

“Well, if there’s a qualified relative he could stay with,” Beverly said. “What about the father? Is he in the picture?”

Cindy opened her mouth to answer, no doubt about to inform Beverly that the father was deceased. But Luke beat her to the punch.

“Actually, I’m Adam’s father,” he said. “Cindy and I were just discussing the possibility of Adam coming to live with me for a while until she can pull things together.” He hadn’t planned to tell such a whopper. It had just come out of his mouth, naturally as could be.

Cindy’s jaw dropped, a denial ready, but Beverly smiled, obviously relieved. “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so? That’s a different situation altogether. You two are on amicable terms, then?”

“Oh, yes,” Luke answered quickly to keep Beverly’s attention on him. Cindy was still gaping in shock, but so far she hadn’t objected aloud.

“Do you have experience caring for a baby?” Beverly asked suspiciously, obviously doubting that this big, strapping lawman knew the difference between a diaper and a pacifier.

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I grew up in a foster home with lots of kids. I got real good at the diaper changing and bottle warming.” As if to emphasize the point, he picked up Adam and cuddled him, knowing he would look perfectly natural and comfortable with the baby—and that Adam wouldn’t object.

Beverly nodded. “What sort of child-care arrangements could you make while you’re working?” she asked, taking notes now.