The Baby Bond

But baby Alex had wanted him, and the little dude was the one in jeopardy.

Besides, as Nic and his firefighter buddies always said, he could sleep when he was dead.

With a tired sigh, he headed back down the hall to the baby’s room, knowing he was about to stick his nose where it did not belong. Mama would say he was going to get it cut off one of these days.

The thought put a spring in his step.

The never knowing when was part of life’s adventure.

With the flat of his hand, Nic pushed open the door to room twelve-fifteen and followed the vinegar woman inside.

Cassidy turned from the crib in surprise. Her gaze slid past her grandmother to him. “Nic. I thought you’d left.”

“I did.”

She patted Alex’s back and covered him with a blanket. “Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.”

She glanced around the small room. “What is it?”

He ignored the question. “Is this your grandmother?” And did you know she wants to put Alex up for adoption?

Vinegar lady slid a critical glance over his dirty face and uniform. Her nostrils twitched in distaste. “A fireman, I presume?”

His mama would throttle him if he was rude to his elders. Vinegar lady didn’t know how lucky she was. “Yes, ma’am. Nic Carano. I’m a friend of Cassidy’s.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened at the word friend, but she didn’t deny him. “Nic, this is my grandmother, Eleanor Bassett. Grandmother, Nic rescued Alex from the…house.”

Again, Mrs. Bassett settled narrowed blue eyes on him. The blue eyes were about the only thing she had in common with her granddaughter.

“Thank you, Mr. Carano.” The gratitude seemed to pain her.

“Nic,” he said. Poor Cassidy, if this was her comforting family, she was in a world of hurt. The woman hadn’t so much as hugged her.

“I suppose the Browns have been notified.” Mrs. Bassett perched her narrow backside on the edge of a chair and folded her hands atop an expensive-looking handbag. Dressed in a business suit the color of zucchini, she appeared ready to conduct a board meeting. Or, Nic thought with a hidden grin, be chopped into a salad. Add a dab of oil to the vinegar and voilà, lunch.

“Yes, Grandmother.” Cassidy’s face, so pale before, was now blotchy red. “They’ve been notified.”

If he was a guessing man, he’d say vinegar lady made her granddaughter both anxious and unhappy.

She was starting to do the same to him. Nic Carano did not like to feel either of those emotions. The woman needed an injection of fun. Or cyanide. The bit of internal sarcasm tickled him. He would laugh later.

Mrs. Bassett checked her watch. “They should be arriving soon. If I can drive from Dallas, they should be able to get here from Joplin in equal time.”

“They’ve lost their only son, Grandmother.”

“Yes. A shame, too. Bradley was a good boy. That wind is awful today. My hair’s a mess. I’ll have to call Philippe for a recomb.” She patted the brown fluff around her face. “There are so many details to take care of. I hope they arrive soon. I have a dinner party tonight. We need to get the problems ironed out today.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to miss a dinner party on the day of your granddaughter’s death.” Cassidy’s words were quietly spoken, but the resentment was clear. So were the red splotches covering her cheeks and neck.

What had he walked into? And why didn’t he hit the road before the war broke out?

One look at Cassidy, standing sentry beside Alex’s crib, hands white-knuckled against the railing, gave him his answer. She was fighting to hold herself together, as much for her sister’s baby as for herself. Aunt Cassidy needed his support, whether she wanted it or not. Baby Alex needed him even more.

“Don’t be sarcastic, Cassidy. It isn’t ladylike.” Vinegar lady opened her purse and removed a card. “This is my attorney. He can help work out the details.”

Nic crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, glad to have some plaster to hold up his fatigued body. Cassidy glanced his way as if just remembering he was there. Something flickered behind those baby blues. He gave her a wink of encouragement. She glared back, clearly not wanting him to stay. Call it macho, call it stubborn, but the notion made him even more determined to stick around.

“I don’t know what you mean, Grandmother.” Cassidy took the card, studied the face, turned it over and then back again. “Why do we need a lawyer?”

“Issues of estate. The problem of Alexander.”

Cassidy’s hackles rose. She stood up straighter. “Alex is not a problem.”

“You know what I mean, dear. He’ll need new parents, although the Browns may have some notion of taking him on.”

Taking him on. That’s the way Grandmother had thought of her and Janna, as unpleasant responsibilities she had incurred. The notion would have hurt if Cassidy hadn’t always known.

“No,” Cassidy said with surprising firmness. “Not strangers.”

“Be reasonable, Cassidy. The child is still young enough to be acceptable to adopters.”

“I don’t want someone to take him because he’s acceptable. I want him to be loved.”

Grandmother huffed; her mouth puckered tighter. “I was afraid you’d be like this. You and Janna could be so stubborn at times, binding together in your fits of determination.”

Trembling with fatigue and emotion, Cassidy pressed a hand to her forehead. A dozen issues she’d never considered or discussed with Janna filtered through her head. The only thing she knew for certain was that she, not Grandmother, needed to make this decision. She prayed she was strong enough to stand against the powerhouse woman whose iron hand ran a company with several hundred employees.

Nic, whom she’d almost forgotten, surprised her by pushing off the wall and coming to stand beside her. He brought the nauseating scent of smoke with him. Why had he come back when she’d been more than clear that she neither needed nor wanted his interference?

He took one of her hands. She knew she should yank it away, but she was too weak and empty to fight both Nic and her grandmother. When the firefighter gave her fingers a squeeze, she realized how cold she’d become since Grandmother’s arrival. How sad that a virtual stranger—even one she didn’t particularly like—could provide more comfort than her own flesh and blood.

Considering that painful fact, maybe Grandmother was right. Perhaps adoption was the answer.

She pulled her hand away, knotting it with the other in front of her. Nic’s eyes bore into the side of her face, but she kept her gaze trained on Alex.

Dear Lord, help. My mind is so scattered right now.

As though someone had asked for his input, Nic said, “You need some time to think. Nothing should be decided today when you’re still in shock.”

Grasping that tiny bit of good sense, Cassidy nodded. He was right. She was running on fumes and emotion. How could she make an intelligent decision about Alex’s future in this condition?

Grandmother did not agree. “The sooner you settle things, the better. You have a busy career and Alexander has nowhere to go. I am simply not up to taking on another child.”

“Grandmother, please,” she interrupted before Eleanor could begin her diatribe on the supreme sacrifice she’d made when Cassidy’s parents died. Cassidy was determined that Alex would never feel the sting of believing he was an intruder living in someone else’s home. She wanted better for her nephew and with God’s help, she would figure out something.

Eleanor had opened her mouth to say more when Beverly and Thomas Brown entered the room. Both of them looked completely shattered. Cassidy rushed to greet them.