Читать книгу A Baby For Lord Roderick - Emily Dalton - Страница 11

All business now, Allie jogged ahead of them to the back of the house where the three rooms that constituted her home office were located adjacent to the den, where she’d just been sleeping in front of the television and dreaming of a baby. The dream coinciding with a real baby’s arrival at her office would seem weird…if she didn’t dream about babies most of the time. She flipped on the bright overhead lights, making everyone wince and blink, then immediately moved to a large stainless steel sink and turned on the hot water tap.

“Whose baby is it?” she asked over her shoulder as she soaped up her hands and rinsed them in scalding water.

“We don’t know,” Liam answered. His brows drew together as he closely observed her movements. “I found him in a rubbish bin.”

“The Dumpster behind Johnsons’ Gas ’n Go,” Doug clarified.

Allie’s whole body revolted at the idea of someone putting a newborn baby in a Dumpster to die a cold, miserable death. She was again stunned into momentary silence and immobility. Liam’s frown stirred her to action, though, and she quickly grabbed a wad of paper towels and dried her hands. “When?”

“Fifteen minutes ago,” Liam said, then abruptly, “What’s taking you so long? Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

“I am doing something,” Allie replied calmly, attributing his uncivil tone to worry and fear. “You don’t want him to get an infection on top of everything else, do you? Put him on the table.”

Allie noticed a muscle ticking in Liam’s jaw as he laid the baby on the examining table. Then, without being told, he spread his hand on the baby’s midsection to keep him from accidentally rolling off—unlikely with a newborn, but still you couldn’t be too careful—leaving Allie free to rummage through her supply drawer.

She ripped open a sterile plastic bag containing an infant-sized oxygen mask, attached the tubing to the free-standing tank by the table, adjusted the flow and placed the mask over the baby’s nose and mouth.

“Hold this over his face, while I adjust the strap.”

Liam obeyed instantly, one hand holding the mask in place while the other hand remained securely on the baby’s stomach.

Allie found it rather unnerving ordering Liam around, and she didn’t suppose he was at all used to it. But she had learned to be as bossy as necessary when it came to saving lives, not holding back even when male egos were involved…or in this case, the ego of a viscount with the fancy-schmancy title of Lord Roderick, who also just happened to have been the romantic hero in some of her more vivid girlhood fantasies. She supposed it was all those hours in the tree, watching him, making up stories about him….

She grabbed the digital thermometer from the countertop and swiped the probe with an alcohol swab.

“Do you need me?” Doug demanded. “Because if you don’t, I’d better get back to the Gas ’n Go. I’ve called Lamont and I’m meeting him there.”

Allie looked up. “You called Lamont out tonight?” Lamont was the county’s Crime Scene Investigator.

Doug nodded curtly. “Attempted murder is pretty serious stuff, Allie. Got to get the evidence while it’s fresh.”

Murder. Allie could hardly believe something like this was happening in Annabella. She nodded, then said, “Go to the hall closet and get the small quilt Grandma Lockwood made, please.”

Doug immediately turned and headed for the door. She caught sight of Bea hovering just behind her father, trembling with either excitement or fear. “Get a blanket for Bea, too,” she called after him.

Doug was a lot easier than Liam to order around, even if he only did what he was told when he wanted to, or really needed to, as now. Besides, he knew where everything was.

She turned back to the baby, pushed the sweater just far enough aside to expose his bottom, and inserted the probe. She could have used the ear thermometer and got an instant reading, but she’d found the rectal thermometer to be more accurate and it took only a few seconds longer.

Liam kept his hand on the child’s chest and stomach, his fingers making tiny, caressing circles. With his free hand, he reached back and rubbed Bea’s neck and shoulders, trying to calm her. Once upon a time Allie had watched those hands whittling sticks, building a birdhouse, digging in the dirt for nightcrawlers or for stones to skip on the pond by Mary’s house. Liam’s grown-up hands were elegantly shaped, the fingers long and tapered, the nails immaculately groomed.

But it was the way he was trying to comfort both children at once that made her smile up at him and say, “Don’t worry. I think the baby’s going to be fine. By the looks of him, he has only a mild case of hypothermia…thanks to you. You must have found him very soon after the birth. You did just the right thing bundling him up in the sweater and finding help. I’ll know exactly what to do, too, as soon as I get this temperature reading.”

Liam didn’t return her smile. His green, matinee-idol eyes stared back at her for a moment, then his gaze shifted to the baby. Her overture rejected, Allie felt a little stab of hurt, of annoyance.

The thermometer beeped and she read the temperature with a sigh of relief. She was tempted to smile, but remembered the response to her first smile and didn’t. “Just as I thought, his temperature is only slightly below normal. We can treat him here and save him the trauma of a trip to the hospital tonight, particularly since it’s still raining like gangbusters. He’ll be much safer, warmer and dryer here than en route to a facility seventy miles away.”

Liam straightened up and pulled Bea against his side. “I called the operator from a pay phone. She told me to wait there for the sheriff. He showed up about two minutes later—which was quite a relief—then I followed him here. But I assumed he called for an ambulance. Wouldn’t that be routine?”

Allie picked up her stethoscope and hooked it around her neck. “Not necessarily, but we’ll ask Doug. On a night like this, we’d be lucky to get one. Our nearest ambulance center is located in Kamas, same as our nearest hospital. They both service an area that’s sparsely populated but very large in terms of miles. And getting to some of the more remote areas can be tricky on the system of highways we’ve got in this part of the state. We’ve learned to take care of what we can on our own, or drive like the wind to get someone to Kamas if there’s a life and death situation.”

Liam gave a slight, disapproving shake of his head. “What if this had been a life and death situation? What if it still is?”

Allie was now convinced of something she’d suspected all along…that Liam didn’t have a gnat’s worth of faith in her abilities. Again she told herself that he’d just been traumatized and was probably not his usual charming self.

She took a deep breath and forced an understanding smile. “Trust me, Lord Roderick, the baby will be fine. I really do have the situation under control.”

At his continued doubtful scowl and silence, she spoke up again, this time her words more clipped and pointed. “I may practice in a rural area, but I’ve still got all the skills necessary to be a doctor. There’s no time to poll the townspeople for an opinion of my abilities, but I’ve got a pretty darn good reputation. If you’ve got doubts about my credentials, however, my framed diplomas and certification documents are displayed over my desk in the next room.”

If Liam was chagrined by her mild sarcasm and felt an urge to apologize, Allie didn’t wait to find out. She fit the stethoscope to her ears and listened to the baby’s heart and lungs. Although slightly tachy, his pulse was strong and had a regular sinus rhythm. His respirations were a little shallow, but the airways sounded clear as a bell. There was nothing unexpected, nothing she couldn’t treat right there in the office.

Next she removed the oxygen mask—he was pinking up very nicely already—and checked the baby’s pupils and reflexes. They were normal. Then she gently moved the baby’s arms and legs, probing and testing for possible breaks or bruises. He seemed fine, but follow-up X rays at the hospital tomorrow would be a good idea.

During the entire examination, the baby didn’t make a peep. He just lay there, listlessly staring. Allie figured he didn’t have the energy to cry, but she’d soon fix that.

Doug came back in the meantime and confirmed her suspicions that he hadn’t bothered to call an ambulance at all. He’d decided to wait for Allie’s take on the situation. Despite everything else wrong with their relationship, at least Doug believed in her abilities as a doctor.

Now her ex-husband was standing at her elbow, looking uncomfortable as he held out the small quilt. Allie understood his discomfort. Grandma Lockwood had made and given the quilt to Allie in anticipation of a great-grandchild, and had died still believing that she and Doug would someday have a baby of their own. Allie had always intended to give the quilt to someone who could actually use it, but despite lots of friends and relatives having babies, she just couldn’t bring herself to part with such a precious gift. It would be like giving away a dream.

After Allie took the quilt, Doug handed a regularsize blanket to Liam. Liam had picked up Bea in his arms to cuddle and soothe her while Allie examined the baby, and now he quickly settled her in a chair by the door, tucking the blanket snugly around her from neck to toes.

Bea remained silent, but her worried look must have prompted Liam to say with a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, love. No need for the hospital. The doctor says the baby’s going to be just fine.” Then he stooped and kissed her on the top of her head.

Bea’s pinched little face relaxed a bit. Now if only Bea’s father actually believed what he was saying, Allie thought wryly.

“Anything else you need before I go?” Doug asked.

“I’ve got premixed bottles of formula in that bottom cabinet in the kitchen by the fridge. You know, where I’ve always kept the bottled water? Heat one for a minute or so under the tap. Room temperature would normally be fine, but this little guy could use something warm.”

Doug hesitated, staring down at the baby with a worried look on his lean, tanned face. “Is he really going to be all right?”

Allie was glad he’d had the tact to whisper the question. “Yes,” she assured him. “If he doesn’t take the bottle, though, I’m going to do an IV. We need to get his blood sugar up and some fluids in him.”

Doug, still rooted to the spot, dragged a hand through his thick blond hair, his expression part disbelief and part grim fury. “Hell, Allie…who could have done this?”

Allie shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought I knew everyone who’s pregnant around here and I can’t imagine any one of them doing such a thing. Besides, if you’re pregnant, then suddenly you’re not, people are going to wonder what happened to the baby. It would have been a noticeable pregnancy, too, because this baby looks full term.”

“Well, whoever it was deserves to be strung up…or thrown naked into the same Dumpster on a night like this. Hopefully there’ll be plenty of evidence at the station that will help us find the mother.”

“Well, get me the bottle, so you can go,” Allie said. “I’d ask Lord Roderick, but he doesn’t know how to get around the house like you do.”

Doug flicked a surprised glance at Liam, obviously recognizing the famous name. The name was even more famous in Annabella than it was in other more sophisticated parts of the world—or perhaps it would be more correct to say “infamous.” Liam’s grandmother had a history with the town that had become local lore. Hazarding her first direct look at Liam since her reprimand, she saw, and thought she understood, his grimace. He hated being recognized.

“Doug…?” Allie prompted.

Doug left the room. Liam gave Bea another reassuring pat before walking back to stand next to Allie. “You should have let him go,” he said. “I think I could have found the kitchen if I’d tried. England’s another country, not another planet.” After an infinitesimal pause, he added, “Or maybe, because of my title, you don’t think I’ve ever been inside a kitchen?”

Allie looked up at him, surprised. “Believe me, I haven’t given any thought to what rooms you may or may not frequent, Lord Roderick. Why are you being so touchy? I know you’re stressed out over this. We all are. I didn’t mean to insult you…even though you don’t seem to mind insulting me.”

He looked equally surprised. “When did I insult you?”

“You didn’t think I knew what I was doing and was worried that I was going to—” she lowered her voice “—let the baby die.”

“No. No,” he objected. “It’s not that I thought you didn’t know what you were doing. It’s just that he’s so small, and he was so cold and so—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head, his disapproving scowl replaced by a more appropriate look—in Allie’s opinion—of sober concern. “Never mind. I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. But do you think a bottle is enough? Why not do an IV just to be sure?”

Softened by his apology, Allie altered her tone and answered patiently. “Despite what they show on all those hospital TV shows, starting an IV isn’t always the first thing a doctor does when a patient is brought in for emergency treatment, Lord Roderick.” She stooped to tuck the blanket around the baby and lift him gently into her arms. “I think we can—”

Her sentence trailed off as she absorbed the shock of an immediate, almost overwhelming surge of feeling for the child as she settled him against her chest and smiled down into his small face. He had the usual newborn look, complete with squinty eyes and a slightly misshapen head topped with sticky black hair.

Allie thought the baby was beautiful…cone-shaped head, squinty eyes and all. The feel of him, the welcome weight of him in her arms, was just like one of her dreams.

“You were saying, Doctor?”

Allie realized that Liam was staring at her, and his disapproving scowl was back. Caught feeling foolish and vulnerable as she drooled over her dream-baby, she tried to sound as professional as possible.

“As I was saying, I think we can stabilize this child without drugs or invasive procedures. His hypothermia is mild and he checks out normally in all other respects. He just needs to be wrapped up, snuggled in someone’s arms and given a warm bottle. If he’s too sluggish to suck, we’ll do an IV. Later, once his temperature’s risen sufficiently, we can put him in a warm bath and get that blood and gunk off him.”

Unable to resist the urge any longer, she threw her professional image to the wind and bent to lingeringly kiss the baby’s sticky forehead. “Poor little thing smells like the dump on a warm day,” she whispered.

Liam said nothing and Allie didn’t dare look at him. Besides, she was perfectly content looking at the baby.

Doug was back with the bottle. “I tested it, but you’d better test it, too.”

Allie agreed. Doug knew squat about babies and bottles. But to Allie’s surprise, the temperature of the formula was just right.

“It’s fine, Doug. Thanks.”

“Then I’ll be going.” He was already striding toward the door. He pointed a finger at Liam. “I’ll need to talk to you some more, so don’t leave town, Lord…er….”

Liam winced. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you—all of you—weren’t so formal. My name is Liam, and I have no intention of leaving town for at least a month. Oh, and look by the rubbish bin…er…Dumpster…for a patchwork quilt like that one.” He motioned toward Allie and the baby. “He was wrapped in one very like it when I found him.”

Doug nodded briskly and left, allowing Liam to turn his full attention back to Allie and the baby. She wished his lordship would leave, too. She’d give anything to be alone with the baby so she could feed him and enjoy him without feeling watched and self-conscious. Certainly this unsmiling peer-of-the-realm would find something wrong with the way she was holding the bottle or question the wholesomeness of the formula brand.

Sure enough, just as she raised the bottle to the baby’s lips, Liam interrupted.

“Can I hold him and give him the bottle?”

“No, I need to monitor his response firsthand.”

Liam looked skeptical but backed away. He leaned his hips against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his intense gaze on Allie and the baby. He may have backed off, but he was still staring at her.

Fortunately Bea’s imploring expression must have caught his attention. Looking contrite and concerned, Liam went to Bea, lifted her up and slipped into the chair, settling her comfortably in his lap.

Now both of them were staring at her.

“Shouldn’t you call your grandmother?” Allie asked on a sudden inspiration. “I’m sure Mary’s worried sick by now. There’s a phone on my desk in the next room.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Oh, and while you’re in there, please feel free to look over my medical credentials.”

Liam gave her a baleful look, which she answered with a guileless smile. He left, carrying Bea in his arms.

Allie finally had the baby to herself.

Smiling down at him, she observed that his color was already much better. Normal, in fact. Now, if she could just get him to take the bottle. But his eyes were closed. He might have fallen into an exhausted sleep.

She touched the rubber nipple to the baby’s lips, a tiny drop of warm formula seeping out to pool in the corner of his mouth and dribble down his chin. “Come on, sweetie,” Allie coaxed. “I know you’re tired. This has been a doozy of an opening act, but now’s not the time for a siesta. Open up. I think you’ll like this. It’s going to make you feel much better.”

The baby’s eyes fluttered open. His mouth caught the nipple and clamped onto it. Thank God for the sucking instinct, Allie thought.

The baby’s forehead furrowed with surprise as he took a couple of involuntary swallows. His eyes widened, blinked twice, then drifted shut as he continued to suck. Allie gave a sigh of relief and smiled, her heart swelling with that wonderful “motherly” feeling she’d experienced before only in her dreams.

MARY ANSWERED halfway through the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Gran, it’s me.”

“I’ve been worried, Liam!”

“I know. I’m sorry. It took us longer to get into town than I expected, then Bea had to go to the loo and we stopped at a petrol station.”

“At a petrol station? Nothing’s open this late in Annabella. Where are you, Liam?”

“We’re at Doctor Lockwood’s.”

“What’s wrong? Is Bea sick?”

“No, Bea’s fine. I’m fine, too.”

“Then why—?”

“It’s a long story, Gran. I’ll tell you everything when I get to the house.”

“How soon will you be here?”

“In just a few minutes.” Liam hesitated, then asked, “How well do you know Allie Lockwood, Gran? Has she been in Annabella long?”

“Allie’s family’s been in Annabella since the dawn of time, just like mine. Our tribe moved away, but she and…a couple of her family stayed on.”

“Okay, so she’s a longtime resident, but is she a good doctor?”

“I’ve never needed her services, thank God, but everyone swears by her around here. If she’s half as good as her grandfather was, though, I’d say she’s an excellent doctor.”

Mary’s voice had gone suddenly wistful. That’s when Liam remembered something he’d heard about Annabella. Something he’d been too distracted to remember sooner. Lockwood. Lockwood was the name of that man from Gran’s past. The man she’d jilted to marry his grandfather. He’d never heard the whole story before and was suddenly consumed with curiosity, but now was not the time to drag out skeletons.

“Liam? Why do you want to know if Allie Lockwood’s a good doctor? I thought you said you and Bea were fine?”

“We are.”

“But—”

“Bea and I will be there in just a few minutes, Gran. I’ll explain then.”

“All right, then. See you soon. I’ll have hot chocolate ready for you.”

“Goodbye, Gran.”

“Goodbye, love.”

Liam hung up and looked down at Bea, curled up in the corner of a small sofa in Allie Lockwood’s tiny cubicle of an office. She looked so tired, so frail, so anxious. As traumatic as the past hour had been for him, he imagined it had been even worse for her. And he’d been so preoccupied with making sure the baby was okay, he’d neglected her a little. He forced his lips into a smile.

“Gran’s got hot chocolate waiting.”

Bea nodded. “Good. But what about the baby, Daddy?”

“I told you he’s going to be all right, Bea.”

“I know, but…but are we just going to leave the baby here? Who’s going to take care of him?”

“Doctor Lockwood, for now. As for later, I don’t know, Bea. Probably—”

Bea’s brows drew together and her large brown eyes darkened. “Because I’ve been thinking, Daddy,” she said in a tone that struck Liam as being heartbreakingly serious and grown-up for such a small child. “Why can’t we take care of him? He needs a home, doesn’t he?”

“It’s not that simple, Bea.”

“I think God sent him. We lost our baby, so God sent us another baby to take his place.”

Sure, if life was fair, if there really was justice in the world, Liam thought to himself, the infant he’d found tonight might be able to help fill the void that had been left by the deaths of his wife and child. And the baby would be needing a home…. But Liam wasn’t even an American citizen. And with the circumstances of the baby’s birth and the crime committed still unknown, he’d be crazy to get involved. He’d done his part by fishing the baby out of that rubbish bin and now they must part ways.

“It doesn’t work that way, Bea,” he finally answered. “But we’ll talk about it again tomorrow, if you want. Right now Gran’s waiting for us. Let’s go say goodbye to Doctor Lockwood.”

Bea struggled up from the couch and looked so pale and weary, Liam picked her up in his arms, keeping the blanket snugly wrapped around her.

Bea giggled. “I’m not a baby, Daddy. You don’t have to carry me.”

“But just this once, you don’t mind, do you?”

She put her arms around his neck and tucked her head under his jaw. “No, I don’t mind.”

Liam walked to the door of the examination room and looked inside. Allie stood with her back to them, gently swaying back and forth. One elbow was in the air, as if she was holding a bottle. Good. The baby must be taking the formula.

“Doctor Lockwood?”

Allie turned around and the radiance on her face startled Liam.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” she said. She looked and sounded pleasantly dazed, and not at all displeased that they were about to depart. It struck him then that her attachment to the baby was unnaturally quick and unprofessional.

In fact, if looks could kill, he’d have been dead the minute he suggested giving the baby the bottle instead of her. But all Liam had wanted was to hold him just once more, now that he was safe. To hold him without that awful feeling that he might die in his arms at any moment. Was that so much to ask?

As he stared at Allie Lockwood and the baby he’d fished out of a rubbish bin, Liam suddenly realized that it wasn’t going to be possible to simply part ways with this child. And he wasn’t going to wait for God to fix things and make them fair, either. It was impulsive and possibly stupid, but Liam determined at that moment that he would play God for once and try to bring about a little justice of his own.

“I’m leaving, but I’ll be back,” he told Allie. “I care about that baby and I want to be involved in any and all decisions made about him.”

Before Allie could answer he turned and left the room, but her radiant look had been replaced by one of suspicious dismay. He knew he’d come across as arrogant and had undoubtedly overstepped his bounds…especially considering he had no rights whatsoever in the matter. In fact, he knew his whole manner from the moment they’d arrived with the baby had been abrupt and rude. He supposed his painful concern for the baby’s welfare was the reason he’d behaved so badly, and he shouldn’t have taken it out on Allie Lockwood.

But, he admitted, there was another reason he’d reacted to the doctor the way he had. The thing was, Allie Lockwood seemed to be finding it just as impossible as he was to be emotionally objective about this baby. She was so proprietary. Too proprietary. Did she want the baby, too?

Liam set his jaw. Too bad if she did. Besides, what was stopping her and her Sheriff boyfriend from making babies of their own? They had to be an “item.” What other explanation was there for Sheriff Renshaw’s familiarity with Allie’s house?

DOUG HAD NEVER SEEN such a bloody mess in his life. It was all he could do to keep his dinner down. Sure, Annabella wasn’t known for its violent crime and he’d only been on hand for a couple of domestic disturbances that involved shootings, but not even Homer Bledsoe’s gushing neck wound had prepared Doug for the women’s bathroom at Johnsons’ Gas ’n Go.

Whoever had given birth to that baby had lost a lot of blood doing it. Which made him wonder if it wouldn’t be a good idea to check the hospital at Kamas for recent admissions. He’d better check the morgue, too.

“I smell like hell.” Lamont Johnson, the county’s one and only full-time Crime Scene Technician, was standing in the Dumpster in waist-high garbage. “Kelly’s not going to let me in the house tonight.”

“Why should tonight be any different, Lamont?” Doug stripped off the latex gloves he’d been wearing and carefully put them in a plastic bag, tied it off and stuffed it back inside the pouch on his belt.

Lamont snorted. “You’re one to talk. Allie’s still lockin’ you out, I hear.”

“You shouldn’t listen to gossip. Besides, my situation with Allie is different. We’re not married anymore.”

“Just wished you were, eh?” Lamont straightened up, pressing his knuckles into the small of his back. “I’m done here. There’s more than enough evidence in the blood samples I collected to match DNA to a likely suspect.”

Doug grabbed the tight muscles at the back of his neck and grimaced up at the dark sky. It had finally stopped raining, but the clouds still blocked any hint of stars and moon.

“There’s the rub. We haven’t got any suspects. And besides the blood, all we’ve got is that ratty old quilt.”

Lamont struggled out of the Dumpster. “Think Captain Hightower will send you some help?” he asked on a grunt as his feet hit the asphalt.

“Maybe if I ask for it. But I’m not going to ask. This is my town and I know it better than any of those jokers Hightower might send me from the main office. I know the people and I know how to talk…and not talk…to them. I’ll have better luck with this investigation if I do it on my own and in my own way. Besides, if news of this got beyond Annabella that that royal pretty boy, McAllister, found the baby, the national media might grab hold of it and the town could be overrun with paparazzi. It’s best if we try to keep this local, and Hightower agrees.”

Lamont nodded and hiked up his drooping pants. “Well, that makes sense. But you’re taking on a lot, Doug. If you don’t have a clue who the perpetrator is, you’re goin’ to be doing a helluva lot of overtime.”

Doug shook his head and gave a ragged sigh. “Lamont, when I think about how hard Allie and I tried to have a baby, then someone just throws one away like that…The whole damned thing just makes me want to puke.”

Lamont snapped off his gloves and gave Doug a keen look. “I guess you really want to solve this case?”

Doug nodded grimly. “Yeah, Lamont, I guess I sure as hell do.”