Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (60 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby
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“We're going to be late,” she said, her voice sounding high and squeaky.

He slid a hand over his hair, feeling oddly as if something precious had been taken away from him. He didn't know what had just happened, but it had nothing to do with needing to get to the social services office. Yet what else could he do but go along with her?

“Right. I'll get the baby.”

Thankfully, it was easier to remove Noelle from her car seat than it was to put her into it, and soon they were approaching Maggie Dockerty's office, such as it was. There was no receptionist at the front desk, only a clipboard with a lined sign-in sheet dangling off the front counter by a worn chain. A felt-tip pen was attached by a piece of Velcro.

Shawn glanced around. A couple of raw, informal cubicles were sectioned off by gray partitions that looked as though they'd seen better days. Hand-me-down office equipment littered the area. The whole place felt old and decrepit, not at all what Shawn would have expected from an office dedicated to finding children good homes.

A middle-aged brunette with short, spiky hair popped her head around the corner of the nearest partition. “Heather? It's good to see you again. And you must be Shawn O'Riley,” she continued, nodding his direction. “Come on back and take a seat here. I'm anxious to meet that precious little baby girl Heather has been telling me all about.”

Maggie's tone and words set Shawn's mind at ease. At least she appeared to genuinely care about Noelle, to acknowledge her as a person needing care.

That was something, wasn't it?

They entered Maggie's cubicle, and Shawn offered Heather a seat before taking his own, careful not to disturb Noelle, who was sound asleep in the curve of his arm. His gaze darted from place to place and finally settled on Maggie's desk, which was littered with paper. He couldn't look at Noelle or he would simply lose it, and he didn't dare meet Maggie's eyes, afraid his distress would show. He hadn't shed tears since the day they had buried David, but right now his eyes were burning like hot coals, and it took every ounce of his will to screen his emotions.

“I've already got the papers drawn up for you, Shawn,” Maggie informed him, pushing a stack of papers across the desk and into his view and waving a ballpoint pen under his nose.

“Papers?” he echoed, confused. He took the pen from her, but only because she wouldn't leave off waving it at him.

Why would they need him to sign anything? He wasn't the child's guardian. Was it because he was the one who'd found her?

“Naturally, we'll have to schedule a home visit so I can make sure you've got everything baby-proofed, but it's mostly just a formality. We don't have nearly enough foster parents, and it certainly isn't every day that a man steps up for a child the way you are right now.”

Steps up?
What was Maggie talking about?

He shifted his confused, questioning gaze to Heather, whose hazel eyes widened in dismay. She grimaced, her hand flying up to cover her lips.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Maggie,” she blurted out. “You must have misunderstood me. Shawn was gracious enough to take care of Noelle until we could get to San Antonio, but he can't keep her. Not permanently.”

“I see.” Maggie pinched her mouth around the edges and tiny lines formed on her upper lip. “I beg your pardon, Shawn. I was under the impression that you'd come in today to apply to become Noelle's foster father.”

“I—I can't,” Shawn stammered, heat rising to his face and his throat tightening, cutting off his supply of oxygen. “I would, but I—”

“Of course. I understand.” Maggie cut him off before he could finish the sentence, and he was glad of it. He didn't know how he
would
have finished that sentence if Maggie hadn't taken pity on him and interrupted when she did. It wasn't so much a matter of “wouldn't.” It was a matter of “couldn't.” He couldn't take care of baby Noelle. He couldn't risk it. She deserved so much better than anything he was capable of offering.

“As Heather well knows, it's difficult to foster children when you're single,” Maggie continued. She smiled gratefully at Heather, but Shawn noticed the stress lines that had formed on her forehead. He imagined it wasn't an easy job for her, finding homes for all the tough foster cases she dealt with every day. No wonder she looked taxed. “Heather told me you're a pastor in addition to being a rancher, Shawn. I commend you for that, and I'm sure you're far too busy with your congregation and your ranch work to care for an infant.”

“No,” Shawn snapped back immediately. “It's not that at all.”

Both women looked at him as if he'd grown an extra eye on his forehead, and he grimaced before apologizing for his tone. He was better than this. Taking a deep breath, he focused his attention on his voice, leveling it out to something less...
frantic
.

“What I mean to say is it's not my job that prevents me from offering my services as a foster father to Noelle. I've come to care for her, and honestly, there is nothing I'd like more than to keep her with me. It's just that—”

For a man who made his living off words, he was having difficulty forming anything remotely resembling a coherent sentence clarifying why he couldn't take Noelle. The rationalization for his choice was murky in his own mind. He only knew that he couldn't risk Noelle's safety, never mind her happiness, on his potential inabilities.

“You don't have to explain,” Maggie assured him. “It's completely understandable. Believe me, I was completely aware that what I was asking you to do went far above and beyond what most folks could muster.” She wheeled her office chair over to the file cabinet in the corner of her cubicle and opened the third drawer down, riffling through several multicolored folders before she selected an olive-green one. “Let me just find the papers we need to get Noelle enrolled in a state home and I'll take her off your hands.”

“A state home?” Shawn repeated, his heart suddenly coming alive in his chest, beating a wild, irregular tattoo marked by rapid shots of adrenaline. The fight-or-flight instinct was kicking in, though he wasn't sure why. “I thought— That is, I assumed she'd go to a nice foster home. With someone like Heather.”

He heard a little gasp from Heather but he didn't look at her. His gaze was focused entirely on Maggie, who was frowning and shaking her head.

“As you can well imagine, there aren't enough people like Heather in the world. I'm afraid we have a serious overflow of foster children right now and not nearly enough homes for them. The procedure is that kids are temporarily assigned to state facilities until we can find potential foster families for them or they get permanently adopted, which doesn't happen nearly enough. Noelle being a newborn plays in her favor, though. Folks are more interested in adopting newborns than the older kids like Heather's taken. There's that working for her, at least. She may not have to stay in the state home for long.”

“How long are we talking?” Shawn asked gravely. “A few days?”

“Weeks, more like. Sometimes months. It's hard to say. Noelle will have to be formally evaluated by one of our physicians. Often in cases of abandonment, the baby has been exposed to illegal substances in utero, which makes placement more difficult due to the medical issues drug babies face.”

Shawn was stunned into silence, but his mind was screaming. Noelle in a group home with a bunch of other kids? What kind of care would she receive? How many adults would be there? Who would love her?

“A drug baby. Well, that might explain a lot,” Heather murmured. “About Noelle, I mean. It could be that she's crying so often because she's in physical withdrawal from her mother's drug or alcohol habit.”

“It's definitely a possibility,” Maggie affirmed. “I'll make a notation in her file and we'll get her a checkup immediately so we know what we're dealing with. Now, if I can get some information from you, Shawn, I'll get this new paperwork in motion.”

“No.”

Maggie's green eyes snapped to his, her dark, contoured eyebrows displaying a high arch. “I beg your pardon?”

“No. I don't want Noelle going into a state facility.”

Heather placed a hand on his forearm, which was a measure of comfort against the anxiety coursing through him that had him feeling as if he was about ready to jump out of his skin. Somehow she seemed to understand what was happening to him. Maybe she could see it. Every muscle in his body was crackling with energy. He was walking the proverbial plank with his hands tied out in front of him and manacles bound to his ankles.

But what else could he do?

“I'm afraid we don't have any other options,” Maggie informed him crisply. “Group homes are an unfortunate by-product of the system, but I assure you that we'll do all we can to make sure Noelle is well cared for. Texas has a strong support system. Her potential problems notwithstanding, I'm optimistic that she'll eventually be placed in a permanent home. There's nothing for you to worry about.”

Nothing for him to worry about?

The lady was clean out of her mind if she thought Shawn was capable of
not worrying
after handing an innocent baby off to her with no guarantee of where Noelle would land. It wasn't as if he could simply walk out of the office and forget he'd ever found the infant in the manger Christmas Eve. As if he could somehow put it all behind him and go on with his life.

“‘Eventually' isn't good enough for me,” Shawn informed her, adjusting Noelle in his arms so his hold on her was even more secure. Right next to his heart, where she belonged—at least for now. “I'm taking her home with me.”

* * *

Heather's pulse jolted to life at Shawn's words. He was going to step up and foster baby Noelle, after all?

What man did that—set aside his own expectations, his own lifestyle, to care for the needs of another, especially one as innocent and helpless as Noelle?

None that she'd ever known. He was a rarity, for sure.

Shawn had already surprised her a number of times over the past weekend, beginning with the moment he'd volunteered to take Noelle into his care rather than pawn her off onto someone else on Christmas Eve. It would have been easy enough to hand her off to the police, or try to find someone else in town to take the baby on temporarily. But he hadn't done that. He cared enough to sacrifice his own comfort to do the right thing, even when the going got rough. And then later, after being exposed to the truth about parenthood, he hadn't broken. No matter how tired and sleep-deprived he'd been, he had never once lost his temper, yelled or complained—at least that she had heard.

And now, even after learning firsthand how difficult taking care of a newborn could be—very possibly a newborn with unforeseen medical problems—he was going to take the ultimate leap into foster parenthood.

What kind of man would make such a sacrifice?

Apparently, she was looking at him. She just couldn't believe her eyes. Or her ears. Never mind what her heart was telling her.

Shawn was a man whose actions spoke louder than his words. He was a man who saw the worth in a tiny bundle of humanity who'd been thrown out to be eaten up by the big, wide, nasty world—and he not only noticed, but stepped up to do something about it. When Noelle had been abandoned, Shawn was there to protect and defend her.

In short, he very much appeared to be the kind of man Heather had once hoped and believed existed somewhere in the world but had long since given up on finding in reality. At least,
her
reality.

The jury is still out
, she reminded herself sternly. She winced inwardly. She knew better than most that what a woman observed on the outside was not always what she got on the inside, not when push came to literal shove.

“Give me a pen,” Shawn said, his voice a deep, rich hum. “I'm ready to sign whatever legal documents are necessary to keep Noelle with me.”

“Excellent,” Maggie said. Unlike Heather, Maggie didn't sound surprised that Shawn had changed his mind—or rather, made up his mind. But then again, thinking back over Maggie's comments, Heather wondered if Maggie had been pushing Shawn that direction all along.

“Are you sure?” Heather couldn't help but ask the question aloud.

Did he realize what he was getting himself into?

He'd come with the intention of handing Noelle off to another foster family, which of course was to be expected. Why should he change his whole life because he'd found a baby inside his church? Noelle wasn't supposed to be his problem.

But now she would be. He was making her his problem, legally and officially. And Heather couldn't imagine why.

She was well aware of why
she
fostered children, or at least why she'd taken Jacob, Missy and Henry in the first place. Her motives had shifted over the months she'd had the kids, as she'd fallen in love with the three little sweethearts. But that didn't negate the fact that originally she'd signed up as a foster mother as a meager form of penitence. She wasn't kidding herself about her motivation. While she would never be able to make up for the lives lost due to her negligence with Adrian, she could and did make her foster children's lives better.

They were happy. She was as content as she'd ever been. And she loved her kids more than she'd thought possible.

But what were Shawn's motives?

God presumably knew, but Heather certainly didn't. If the pensive expression on Shawn's face was anything to go by, she doubted even Shawn knew.

Shawn patted Noelle's back in a gentle rhythm. “You mentioned baby-proofing my house.” He grimaced, cleared his throat and flashed a weak grin. “How do I do that, exactly? Do you have an instruction guide? Diagrams?”

“The best I can offer you is a policy-and-procedure manual,” Maggie said with a laugh. “We offer weekly parenting classes, but I'm not sure how feasible that would be for you, living as far out of town as you do.”

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