Some kind of wonderful (2 page)

"So, are you back home to stay?"

He stopped briefly and shot her a quick look. "No," he said, wanting to make sure she got that little news bulletin out onto the jungle grapevine fast. "I'm only standing in for Sheriff Thompson until he's well enough to come back."

And he wouldn't have been doing that much if he'd been able to think of a way around it. Right now, he could be on his way to ... anywhere would do, actually. He could be on a beach with a mai-tai... or in a bar with a beer. Either of which sounded better than being rousted out of bed at one in the morning. Which just went to prove his father had been right. "No good deed goes unpunished, Jack." He could practically hear the old man muttering it now, which was a hell of a job of remembering since Jack's dad had died more than ten years ago.

"That's a shame," Tina said and pushed herself up from her chair.

Jack's gaze dropped to her swollen belly and his jaw clenched. "You better sit down, Tina."

She waved off his concern. "Please. This is number three. With two kids under the age of five, who gets to sit?"

Jesus, he was getting old. Tina Mitchell had two and a half kids. Just yesterday, she'd been leading cheers while he ran for touchdowns. Shaking his head, Jack headed off down the hall, following the sound of voices drifting to him from the last examination room on the right.

"A healthy, six-pound, two-ounce baby girl," the doctor proclaimed after a thorough examination.

"And human, right?" Carol asked.

Dr. Phoebe Hightower looked over at her friend and lifted a finely arched red eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, not such a weird question." Carol grinned at her. "On the walk over here, it— she was making some really strange sort of. .. bloopy noises."

"Define 'bloopy.'" Phoebe tucked her short, coppery hair behind her ears and looped her stethoscope around her neck. "I'm fascinated."

"You know..." Carol shrugged and jammed both hands briefly into her jeans pockets before pulling them out again to wave. "Noises coming from both ends. And lots of.. .fluids."

"Yeah, sure sign of an alien life-form."

"Hey, I'm not an idiot," Carol said. "I know babies have fluids. But you checked? No venom sacs in her cheeks? No forked, suspiciously reptilian tongue?"

Phoebe stared at her friend for a long count of five. "You've been watching the V marathon on the Sci-Fi channel again, haven't you?"

"Lizard babies in human suits." Carol grinned and shrugged. "Hey, you'd feel pretty silly if you missed diagnosing an alien baby, wouldn't you?"

"How embarrassing that would be."

"See? Only looking out for you, pal."

"Uh-huh. And you found her in the manger?"

"Yeah." The smile slipped from Carol's face as she stared down at the little girl, now wearing a diaper and wrapped in a nice clean blanket. She reached out one hand and tentatively stroked the tiny palm with the tip of her finger. The baby grabbed at it, and Carol felt that grip tighten around her heart.

This probably wasn't a good thing, she thought, even as she concentrated on the feel of those tiny fingers wrapped around her own. With every moment that ticked past, this baby was slipping quietly past Carol's defenses. The heck of it was, she wasn't at all sorry. Maybe she would be later, but at the moment, everything in her was busy responding to a kindred spirit.

This child, like Carol herself, had been abandoned. And who knew better than Carol "what that baby would feel as it grew and had to accept the fact that she hadn't been worth keeping?

"Who could just leave her there and walk away?" Phoebe muttered and smoothed her palm over the baby's head.

"Walking away's the easy part," Carol muttered, then deliberately forced a smile. "Or so I'm told."

"Hey ..." Phoebe winced. "I'm sorry, I just didn't think and—"

This time Carol really smiled. Her past was just that. Past. She'd moved past the hurt of never having a family. Of never having a real home to go running to when

times got tough. She'd grown up in spite of everything. And she'd built her own home. Made her own mark. The past was just memories and memories couldn't hurt her anymore.

Still, realizing that this tiny girl would grow up with the same doubts and questions tugged at Carol. She knew how the system worked. This tiny child would be taken to a state home. She'd be laid down in one of a series of cribs. She'd cry and wait her turn for attention. She'd be fed, held and cared for, by overworked and underpaid attendants, but she wouldn't get the special time and care that all children were entitled to.

Her heart ached as old memories rushed into her mind along with worry for the child who was too young to defend herself against the pain that was already headed her way.

"It's okay, Phoeb," Carol said, swallowing hard. "I'm a big girl. I don't have any 'issues.'" Phoebe Hightower had been her first friend in Christmas. Heck, her first real friend anywhere. And for the past two years, she and Phoebe had bonded over Mel Gibson movies, Chocolate Brownie ice cream, and the lack of interesting men in Christmas. Well, that last part didn't count anymore, since Phoebe had stumbled across a certain sexy carpenter who had changed her opinion on dating life in a small town.

But even Phoebe didn't know everything there was to know in Carol's past. And that's just the way she liked it.

"Yeah, but still."

"Really. No biggie." She didn't want to think about the past she'd left behind a long time ago. The whole point of moving to Christmas had been to build a future and to forget the past, right? Right.

Phoebe sighed and studied Carol's eyes for a long moment before letting go of whatever she was thinking. "I have to call Social Services."

Carol's heart twinged painfully again. She looked down at the tiny baby girl and knew that she couldn't let it happen. Couldn't allow this infant to slide into the system when she was less than twenty-four hours old. She herself had far too many memories of institutional life. She'd never be able to live with herself if she simply walked away, knowing that the baby would become just another abandoned child.

Carol wanted to protect her heart. She really did. But looking at the baby, she knew she couldn't save herself by sacrificing the child.

"Do we have to?"

• Phoebe just looked at her. "Yeah. It's the law. The sheriff's already been called. He'll be here any minute."

"What about if I took her?"

"Carol..."

"For now," she said, blurting the words out quickly as if putting hedges on her offer would make the pain less when she eventually had to give up the baby.

"Are you sure?"

Carol choked out a laugh. "No. But I can't let her go to a homeT

Phoebe looked down at the baby, then turned her gaze back to Carol. "We'll have to clear it with Maggie ... but I'm sure she'll approve you." She stepped to the counter and picked up the phone.

Nerves skittered inside Carol, but she fought them back. She knew what she was doing. And it was temporary, after all. She only half-listened as Phoebe talked to Maggie Reilly Cooper, the local Social Services rep. Instead, Carol watched the baby, and the baby returned

that solemn stare, as if they were sizing each other up. And Carol half-wondered just what the tiny girl thought of her.

A few minutes later, the phone conversation had ended, everything was decided, and Carol's new course had been charted.

"It's official," Phoebe said.

A new rush of nerves hustled through her system. But she'd made her decision and she wouldn't change it now. "Okay, then, I guess it's just me and Lizardbaby."

Phoebe laughed and the sound seemed to echo in the small cubicle. "Honest to God—"

"Lizard baby?" A deep voice from the doorway rumbled through the room.

An instant later, Quinn did a little rumbling himself as he stood up from his post beside the examining table. The big dog's throaty growl seemed to roll on and on like thunder.

"Jesus," Jack said and took an instinctive step backward. "You brought a trained bear to the clinic?"

"Quinn..." The dog's rumbling stopped short and Carol looked at the man warily watching the animal. "He's my dog. He won't bite."

"Famous last words," Jack muttered and took a cautious step into the room. "Besides, he looks like he wouldn't have to bite. He could probably swallow me whole."

Carol watched him watch Quinn and she had to admit, at least privately, that she wouldn't mind taking a bite out of Jack Reilly herself.

Tall enough to qualify for mountain status, he had shoulders broad enough to balance the world and deep blue eyes that looked as though they'd seen way too much misery. By the look of it, his nose had been broken

once or twice, he had a wide mouth and thick black eyebrows. His square jaw was bristled with a dark shadow of whiskers and his black hair was gleaming wet, as if he'd just stepped out of the shower when he was called to the clinic.

That thought brought up a couple of lovely images that she hadn't had nearly enough time to enjoy when he spoke again, shattering her concentration.

"You must be Dr. Hightower," he said and offered his hand.

"I am. Thanks for coming so fast." Phoebe shook his hand firmly, then nodded at Carol. "This is Carol Baker, she found the baby."

He shook her hand, too, and Carol felt a slight zap of heat as their palms brushed together. Surprised, she closed her fingers over her palm, as if to hold on to that little burst of electricity just a while longer.

"And," Phoebe was saying, "this little girl is our mysterious stranger."

Jack sidestepped around Quinn and moved in for a closer look. "Newborn?"

"No more than a few hours old," Phoebe said softly.

He shifted a look at Carol and she suddenly knew what a butterfly must feel like when it was pinned unexpectedly to a board. "You found her?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"The manger."

"Huh?"

Carol glanced at the baby, more to break eye contact with the big man still watching her than anything else. Really, he had a penetrating gaze that could make you confess to just about anything. No wonder he became a cop.

She knew the Reilly family. Impossible to live in Christmas and not know them. Jack was the oldest, then there was Sean, a priest, then Eileen, perpetually pregnant or so it seemed, and now working on number three, then Maggie, mother of two and the local representative for Social Services, and finally, Peggy—at eighteen, the baby and family favorite. So Carol knew all about Jack Reilly, though she'd never met him before now. She knew he'd left town to join LAPD. That he'd been married and divorced. That he'd quit the big-city police force a couple of years ago—but no one outside his family seemed to know why.

He'd come back to Christmas as a favor to the ailing town sheriff. Now he was the temporary chief of their tiny department, which was why he was standing here, giving her a look that said clearly, "Talk now or down at the station ."

Really, she thought. Maybe she was watching too much TV.

Staring up into those compelling blue eyes, Carol said, "I found her in the Nativity scene in the town square."

"And what were you doing in the town square in the middle of the night?"

Well, she didn't like the tone of that question. So she fired right back. "I was doing a fertility dance with my coven. Did I mention that I practice the black arts?"

"Uh-huh " he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

He never batted an eye. That shouldn't surprise her, though. He'd probably heard far worse in LA.

"She walks her dog every night at midnight," Phoebe said.

"He's my familiar," Carol added.

"He's a bear."

"You're really not a people person, are you?" Carol asked.

"How'd you guess?"

"Hello?" Phoebe waved both hands until she had their attention. "About the baby .. ."

"Right. I'll call Maggie. See what she wants us to do about the baby."

"I just hung up with her," Phoebe told him. "She's agreed to allow Carol to be an emergency foster parent."

Jack shifted his gaze from the doctor to the tall, brown-haired woman in the faded jeans and the too-tight white tank top emblazoned with a head shot of Santa. She straightened up as though presenting herself for formal inspection. Her eyes were the color of good scotch and her breasts were high and full, and she was just the right height for him to kiss her without getting a crick in his neck.

Not that he had any plans in that direction. And if he had planned on finding a woman, he'd get one just a little less crazy, thanks.

he come full circle and returned to answering the call for help in the middle of the night? Almost two years ago, he'd walked away from the force. Turned his back on the things he knew and told himself that he'd never go back again. Yet here he was—temporarily at least—back in the saddle. He couldn't get out of it. He'd already given his word. But that didn't mean he wouldn't resent being pulled back into a life he'd deliberately left behind. And it didn't mean he wouldn't walk away again—just as soon as he could.

After all, what else could he do to repent—short of dying and being reincarnated as a cockroach?

Turning his head to look at her, he stopped dead when he came nose to nose with the bear. "Jesus!"

The damn dog was sitting straight up on the passenger seat, riding shotgun with him like they were old pals. The only problem was, Jack had never been eyeball to eyeball with a dog that damn big. Brown eyes stared unblinkingly into his. Hot dog breath puffed onto his face. And he had the distinct impression the animal didn't quite trust him.

Jack knew just how he felt.

The top of the dog's head scraped the roof of the car. His big, powerful body looked cramped in the low-slung passenger seat and Jack told himself that was the problem. The dog only looked gigantic because he was sitting in a Mustang. If Jack had had a bigger car—like, say, a Greyhound bus—the dog would look normal.

"Does he have to stare at me like that?" Jack asked, never breaking eye contact with the dog.

"Like what?"

He leaned farther away from the mutt and told himself it was caution, not fear. "Like I'm a Scooby Snack."