A Bundle of Complications

Groomed for high society, Rebecca Sterling now has a new mission—to help the orphans coming to Evans Grove. Yet just before she’s due to return to New York, she faces two unexpected challenges. There’s the tiny infant abandoned on her orphanage steps…and the big, gruff cowboy who found him.

Colton Hayes knows nothing about babies and even less about pampered socialites. But as he and Rebecca work together to watch over little Gabriel, he comes to care deeply for them both. What can a rough-and-ready cowboy offer a woman made for city living? Except, perhaps, the dream dearest to both their hearts—a family built on faith and love.

“What about it, Miss Rebecca?” Colton asked.

“The orphanage may be your responsibility, but I’m the one who found this child—that makes him my responsibility.” The baby nestled in the crook of his arm. Before Rebecca or Heidi could stop him he grabbed the basket and headed for his horse.

“Besides, you don’t fool me. You don’t know any more about caring for the baby than I do. At least I have my ma at home to help.”

Rebecca stared at the retreating back. Technically the child was not her responsibility. But she couldn’t let him go. She shared something with the child—abandonment. She wanted to give the baby the care and love he deserved.

“Wait.”

He stopped, and turned slowly. “I’m taking this baby home.”

“I accept your offer. I think it would benefit us both to work together.”

He continued to study her without any change in his expression. Then he nodded. “Very well. Come along, then.”

Rebecca picked her way across the rough ground. Was it possible she’d agreed to work with him? Live in his house?

ORPHAN TRAIN:

Heading west to new families and forever love

Family Lessons—Allie Pleiter, April 2013

The Marriage Barter—Christine Johnson, May 2013

The Baby Compromise—Linda Ford, June 2013

LINDA FORD

lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada. Growing up on the prairie and learning to notice the small details it hides gave her an appreciation for watching God at work in His creation. Her upbringing also included being taught to trust God in everything and through everything—a theme that resonates in her stories. Threads of another part of her life are found in her stories—her concern for children and their future. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids and assorted friends and relatives.

The Baby Compromise

Linda Ford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

—Philippians 4:13

This story challenged me. It was because of the help of my critique partner, Debora Dale, that it has structure. Debora, with her wonderful grasp of story and her ability to sort out the tangled elements, lent her hand and guided me through the morass. I owe her a debt of gratitude. I can’t wait to see her stories published and on the shelves for all of you to enjoy.

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Linda Ford for her contribution to the Orphan Train miniseries.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Evans Grove, Nebraska

Late May, 1875

One day. He could spare one day away from home. He owed it to the people of Evans Grove to help with the construction of the town’s new orphanage. A single day wasn’t much, but it was something. The orphans rescued from the clutches of Felix Baxter deserved a safe place to call home.

But still, twenty-eight-year-old Colton Hayes paused at the door as he planted his favorite black cowboy hat firmly on his head.

“Ma, Pa, you’ll be okay until I get back?” He didn’t like to leave them alone.

“Those poor children need the orphanage as soon as they can get it,” Pa said. “You go do what you can to help.”

“I’ll try to make supper.” Ma had her long-suffering tone down to a fine art. Not that she didn’t have cause. Bearing him late in life had overtaxed her heart. From a young age, he’d done all he could to ease her burden.

“Don’t worry about it, Ma. I’ll make something when I get back. You two just take care of yourselves.” He’d be hungry after a day of work, but he had pork chops in the icebox. He’d learned long ago to boil potatoes in their jackets to save time.

“Pa, you need anything?”

“I’m fine, son.” And to prove it, he pushed up from his chair.

Before he could hobble more than a step, Colton leaped forward to take the cup from his trembling hands. Since his accident three years ago, Pa lived in constant pain that made walking almost impossible.

Knowing his stupidity had caused Pa’s injuries twisted Colton’s insides. He silently vowed yet again to take care of him the rest of his life.

Colton filled the cup and carried it back to the table beside Pa’s chair. “I’ve left soup on the stove. Ma, can you see that Pa gets a bowl of it?” He really should stay home and make sure they were both safe.

Ma sighed. “I ’spect I can manage, though I’ve been feeling poorly these past days.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

Colton studied her. Did pain deepen the lines on her face?

She waved wearily. “You go ahead. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be back later.” Still he hesitated, torn between his parents’ needs and the building project. “Seems we should help the community as much as we’re able,” he said, reminding himself why he’d made the commitment away from home. “After all, God spared us from the devastation of the flood.” A storm in the spring had caused the nearby dam to break, flooding the town, damaging many of the homes and businesses, and causing several deaths. Then, in hopes of ensnaring more children for his child-labor schemes, Baxter had started a fire that destroyed the school. Thankfully, his attempt to implicate the local orphans so the citizens of Evans Grove would send the children to Greenville had failed. The townspeople were pulling together to rebuild. Colton owed it to them to lend a hand.

Pa settled back in his chair with a muffled groan. “God truly spared us.” He lifted his hand in a half wave. “You go help out where you’re needed.”

Colton closed the door quietly, then turned toward town. One day to work. Then he’d be back home, taking care of his responsibilities.

He swung into the saddle and rode the few miles to town. He passed familiar homes, called a greeting to Mr. Gavin as he passed the general store. Like many of the homes and businesses in town, it still bore the mark of the high water of the flood.

He continued onward to the raw frame of the orphanage. Once it was finished, it would be a two-story structure with bedrooms upstairs for the children and staff. Rooms on the main floor would be used for daytime activity.

Strange. No one had arrived to work yet. He understood that men had volunteered and were scheduled to show up on specific days. Just as he had signed up to work today.

He studied the shell of the building. Wasn’t there supposed to be a stack of lumber nearby? Bought and paid for by the generous, yet anonymous, donor funding the project? The gift had everyone talking and guessing as to who the donor might be.

It would be interesting to know who had enough money to fund two building projects—both the orphanage and the school. But unless men showed up to work, the money would benefit no one.

He slipped from his horse, tied the reins to the nearest post and continued his inspection on foot.

As far as he could tell, there’d been nothing done since his last visit to town three days ago. He scratched his head. Moreover, it appeared as if someone had tried to knock out part of the framework where the front door would be. Was there something wrong with the work? He examined the braces and could see no flaw in the construction. Strange.

He circled the building to the back and stared. Someone had left a basket in front of the doorway. Laundry, by the look of it. Who would do that? And why? This whole thing was beginning to feel wrong.

He crossed the distance and squatted by the basket. Looked like... He lifted the first item. Bedding? Small bedding. What on earth?

The laundry in the basket moved. He jerked, almost losing his balance. Sucking in air to steady his twitching nerves, he gingerly plucked at the items. A cotton flannel square and then a quilt wrapped around—

Colton stared. A baby? He jolted upright and gave the surroundings an intent stare. Where was the mother? He saw no one nearby except Mr. Gavin sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store. Colton opened his mouth to call to him and demand if he knew anything, but he was too far away.

The baby made a mewling sound.

Colton squatted by the basket again. “Who are you?” He’d never seen such a tiny human before. He didn’t know much about babies—anything, really—but he suspected the infant couldn’t be more than a few days old. He touched the incredibly small, pink cheek. So soft. So warm.

Who did this baby belong to? He poked his fingers around the swaddled infant, looking for clues to the young one’s identity. He found a bottle full of milk, but nothing more.

Nothing except—

He examined the quilt bundled around the baby and realized that he recognized this pattern. No one made it but his grandmother. She said she’d dreamed it after Grandfather died. She called it “flowers of life.” Triangles of dark fabric formed the bottom half of the diamond and then a maze of bright fabric formed the top half. He had no idea how she managed to create such a beautiful design—one that looked like flowers growing from dark soil. No one else had ever managed to duplicate the pattern accurately. She had made this quilt—and she only gave quilts to family. That meant the baby belonged to the Hayes clan. He considered the relations who lived nearby.

Cousin Amelia lived in Evans Grove, but she was in Kansas visiting her sister. Although she had put on weight lately, he’d seen no indication that she had been expecting a baby. She certainly hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone. Colton might not get into town very often, but news like that would have reached him no matter what. Children were something to celebrate in Evans Grove, especially after so many had been lost to the flood. No, the child couldn’t be Amelia’s.

He had cousins in Ohio. Perhaps one of them had come to visit and something had happened. If Ma and Pa had been healthy, the mother might have left the baby with them instead of at the unfinished orphanage.

A fierce protectiveness filled his chest. He would take care of this little one until the parents returned. He reached into the basket, thinking to scoop the baby up, then hesitated. Wasn’t there a special way to hold tiny babies? He’d heard women mention it when they handed their infants to others, but he couldn’t recall their exact words. Something about holding its head. But how should he hold it? Up? Down? To the side? Was he meant to hold the baby from the head or support it from the neck? He pulled his hands back to his knees. He knew how to care for baby calves and foals. He’d seen baby kittens born, watched brand-new puppies. Once he’d even saved a nest of pink mice, only to watch them grow into troublesome rodents. But a human baby! He had no idea what to do.

Standing, he again looked around, hoping the mother had slipped away on an errand and would now be returning on hurried feet.

But only a pair of cowboys rode down the street. A wagon approached from the north side of town. Somewhere he heard a door slam. And distant voices laughing.

“Hello?”

The only answer came from the basket, a little squawk.

The baby’s face wrinkled up like a prune and a thin cry came from the tiny mouth.

Colton’s heart turned warm and soft. This lost or abandoned or forgotten baby was somehow connected to Colton and, as such, would receive all the care Colton could provide. Remembering the admonition to watch the head, he cupped his hands under the bundle and lifted it to his chest, hoping for the best.

“You’re safe now, baby. Don’t cry.”

The wee face smoothed. The lips puckered into a little rosebud, and the baby opened watery blue eyes to consider Colton.

Colton’s protectiveness grew fierce. Whatever had happened to this baby’s mother, he would find her. In the meantime, he would protect the baby and take care of it.

At that moment, the baby screwed up its face and cried—a sound like a mournful cat. So weak and pitiful Colton wondered if something was wrong.

“Don’t cry.” He cradled the baby against his chest and jiggled the little bundle.

“Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”

But the wails intensified. The baby sounded distraught.

What was he to do with such a tiny baby? Colton remembered the bottle and grabbed it. Stuck the nipple in the crying mouth.

The baby choked.

Colton’s face turned cold. His heart forgot to beat. In his ignorance had he drowned the wee mite?

* * *

Twenty-three-year-old Rebecca Sterling reminded herself to keep a cheerful smile and a hopeful heart as she headed down the street toward the orphanage. She was the one who had received the anonymous check, so she was the one in charge of the orphanage-building project, and she was determined to make it a success.

True, she knew nothing about building, but a year ago, she had known nothing about finding homes for orphan children, either. Her assignment with the Orphan Salvation Society—a New York–based organization that rescued orphaned city children from the streets and found families for them out West—had changed that in a hurry. Now all but one of the orphaned children placed in her care had been settled with families. The last child, ten-year-old Heidi Strauss, was at her side as they crossed the street to the orphanage building site. Half a block later, Rebecca’s heart sank and her smile faltered when she could see that no lumber had been delivered.

“No more wood,” Heidi announced.

“So I see.” No lumber. Things gone missing. Boards destroyed and made to look like an accident.

Someone didn’t want her to succeed at getting the orphanage built. Rebecca fought against her feelings of frustration. They were running out of time. The specially appointed U.S. marshal would soon return with the rescued orphans who’d been forced by Baxter into virtual slave labor for unscrupulous miners and farmers all over Nebraska territory.

The children deserved more than rescue. They deserved a warm place to live where they would be welcomed and protected. She intended to see that they got it. The orphanage would be built. Somehow.

She tucked her chin toward her chest in a sign that anyone who knew her would recognize as a sign of stubbornness. Whoever was at the root of her troubles would soon learn that Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling expected people to do as she asked.

Her chin sagged. Here in small-town Nebraska, the name Lawrence Sterling III didn’t carry the weight it did back in New York. Few people here had heard of her father. Fewer knew or cared that he was a rich importer of European goods.

She again drew her chin back. She would not accept defeat.

Through the framework of the building, a dark figure lurched from side to side.

“Someone’s there,” Heidi whispered as she tugged on Rebecca to stop her.

Rebecca jerked to a halt and clung to Heidi’s hand. Was he the one responsible for the mischief at the site? Or was he there to help?

Realizing that she was alone except for the small girl, who squeezed her hand hard enough to numb her fingers, Rebecca glanced around, but saw no one. No one to help her...but no one to aid the intruder, either. There was only one of him, after all. No reason to be all trembly inside. She’d had enough of delays. If his intention was anything but working on the building...

A horse whinnied as she and Heidi trod past him.

A cry reached her ears. A thin wail. She stopped and listened. “What is that?”

Heidi listened, too. “It sounds like a baby.”

“Must be coming from an open window.” She moved on until she reached the corner of the framed building, where she paused to study the man. A big man, broad at the shoulders. Something stirred within her. A sense of recognition and more—a sense of eagerness and curiosity.

Nonsense. She pushed away everything but caution and determination. Whoever he was, whatever he was up to, she had a job to do on this building. It was time everyone involved realized that she was in charge and would not relent until her job was done.

“Come along,” she murmured to Heidi, who hung back, afraid of the man. Rebecca led her forward.

At that moment, the man turned.

Rebecca recognized him—Colton Hayes, a cowboy she’d seen in church, in the store, riding down the street, driving a buggy with an older man and woman she’d been informed were his parents.

Her admiration of the way he gently helped his parents from the buggy was her justification for why she’d studied him so intently. Noted his strong build, his thick black hair. The few times she’d seen him without the black cowboy hat he now wore, she’d noticed that his hair dipped in a wave. Today he wore a soft-looking blue shirt and denim trousers faded across the thighs, darker at the seams.

Surely he wasn’t the one responsible for the mischief.

Not a tall, handsome man like that.

He considered her across the distance. Too far for her to see the color of his eyes, though she knew they were as green as emeralds.

Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, have you taken leave of your senses? Staring shamelessly at a man? What would your father say? She scolded herself in her mother’s voice and words. Her mother had died seven years ago, yet Rebecca still heard her and listened to her. But that was not to say that she always followed what she knew would be her mother’s advice. If she heeded her mother, she would demurely approach the man and speak quietly and gently. Perhaps ask if he needed assistance. Instead, she lifted the hem of her navy blue skirt and stepped quickly and confidently across the rutted ground. She circled the corner and approached the man. Heidi followed on her heels, trying to be invisible behind Rebecca’s skirts.

“Am I ever glad to see you,” the rancher said at their approach.

She jerked to a halt. Confusion clouded her thoughts. What on earth did he mean? And what did he have in his arms? Something alive, if the movement inside the quilt indicated anything. The cry she’d noted before came from that bundle. The squalling intensified.

“What is that?”

His crooked grin seemed both amused and desperate, which didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t imagine this big, bold man uncertain or desperate about anything.

“It’s a baby.” His voice carried a definite note of tension. “A crying baby. I tried to give it a bottle but nearly choked it to death.”

“I see.” She didn’t. Why did he have a baby?

“Perhaps you can help.”

“Me?” Her voice squeaked and she swallowed hard, forced calmness to her words. “What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

She closed the remaining distance and looked at the small, scrunched-up face. Two little fists quivered beside the red cheeks. “It’s very tiny.”

“I figure it can’t be very old.”

“Is it a boy or girl?”

He shook his head as he continued to jiggle the infant. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

He chuckled. “Maybe because I haven’t seen anything more than the bit that’s not wrapped up.”

“You mean to say—”

“I found it here in that basket. Can’t you make it stop crying?”

He expected her to know what to do? Of course he would. After all, as an agent for the Orphan Salvation Society, she was deemed an expert on children. Only one problem. Until her father had signed her up for this trip, she’d had very little to do with children except in the company of their mothers or older sisters. Never had she even seen a baby so tiny.

Still she told herself, I can do this.

She would do this. She’d prove to her father and everyone else—herself included—that she wasn’t simply a fancy lady from New York. She was capable.

He held the crying infant out to her.

Her heart thumped so hard she thought he might hear it. She sucked in a steadying breath. Hoping her arms wouldn’t shake noticeably, she took the baby. It was incredibly tiny. Somewhere deep in her being, a protective ache made itself known and she cradled the bundle close.

Heidi stood on tiptoe to peek around Rebecca’s shoulder. She pulled aside a corner of the quilt to look at the baby. “Oh, sweet,” she whispered. Then, as she realized Colton could see her, she ducked back out of sight.

Colton heaved a sigh that Rebecca took for relief. Obviously, he thought she could take care of the little one.

“Very well.” She could do this. “What does it need?”

He shrugged, though it seemed more like a gesture of uncertainty than lack of concern. “Beats me. But I suppose it’s hungry.”

“Then hand me the bottle, please.” She indicated the nursing bottle he held in one hand.

He did so. His fingers were long and firm-looking. A workingman’s hands. Hands that would grip life with an unrelenting grasp.

She pulled her thoughts back to reality and the heart-wrenching wails of the infant in her arms. She rocked. “Shh. Shh.” But the cries did not abate. What was wrong? What should she do? Steeling her face to reveal none of her fears, she shook the bottle then tipped the nipple into the open mouth.

The baby choked.

She jerked the bottle away. Oh, dear God, please don’t let this little one die. At that moment she wished some of her deportment lessons had been forgone for instruction in child care. But, of course, she was expected to follow her mother’s example and let her future children be raised by wet nurses and nannies. Rebecca recalled her nanny from when she was about five. When Miss Betsy left, she remembered crying for days until her mother had forbidden any more tears. Then she’d cried in private, often disappearing into a closet and shutting the door, hiding in the darkness.

Her arms tightened around the baby. No child deserved to know such loneliness and isolation, if it could be avoided. A child belonged in a home where he or she would be loved and valued.

Heidi tapped Rebecca’s shoulder and whispered so softly Rebecca strained to catch her words. “Maybe the baby needs a dry diaper.”

Rebecca stared at Heidi. How did this child know more about infants than she, a grown woman, did? She stilled a sigh. Because Heidi had been taught from an early age to be practical rather than ornamental.

The girl smiled. “Maybe there’s one there.” She indicated the basket, but didn’t move.

Rebecca understood that Heidi didn’t want Colton to see her. The poor girl was terribly self-conscious about the burn scars on her face and arms, especially after they’d kept her from gaining approval from any of the families looking to take in one of the Orphan Salvation Society children. But their time together had left Rebecca feeling very close to Heidi and very protective of the sweet, quiet girl. If she couldn’t find a home for Heidi, the child would live in the orphanage and Rebecca would have to return to New York once she was done here. If her father would allow it, she would take Heidi back to New York and keep her so she wouldn’t have to go to the orphanage. But even if Father did approve, the Society would insist the child be placed in a two-parent family. And anyway, her father would absolutely refuse. Rebecca prayed daily for a loving home for the child and did her best to ignore the ache in her heart at knowing she must say goodbye to Heidi.

She edged toward the basket to consider the contents, letting Heidi follow in her shadow.

Thankfully, Heidi reached around her and searched through the items. “I found one.” Her voice remained low, not wanting Colton to hear her. “And here’s a note.” She handed the piece of paper to Rebecca.

Her heart quivering, Rebecca unfolded the page.

I’m so glad there’s going to be an orphanage where my little boy can be safe. Please take good care of my darling. His name is Gabriel.

She pulled the baby close to her heart. The orphanage wasn’t ready, but she’d take care of this child until it was. But now she had Heidi and the baby in her care. And an orphanage with stalled construction. The baby cried and she jiggled it in a vain attempt to soothe it.

It was a lot to manage. She drew in her chin. But she would do it.

Chapter Two

Rebecca handed the note to Colton, felt his concern even before he read the words.

Heidi tugged at Rebecca’s arm. She bent to catch the child’s soft words. “What does it say?”

She told Heidi that the baby had been left behind.

Little Heidi’s big brown eyes filled with shock. “His mama and papa are gone? Are they dead?” Sorrow hollowed out each syllable.

“I don’t know what’s happened to them.” A number of possibilities came to mind, but none she wished to share with a ten-year-old, especially one who knew all too well the agony of losing her parents.

“Poor little baby.” Heidi reached out and tenderly stroked the tiny cheek.

The baby stopped crying long enough to swallow hard, then began again. He sounded so distressed that Rebecca’s heart threatened to weep in response.

Heidi offered her the diaper.

Rebecca simply stared.

“You want I should do it?” Heidi’s voice carried more eagerness than Rebecca had heard since shortly after they left New York. At that time Heidi had been full of hope for a new, loving family. But at every stop, people had seen her scarred face and turned away.

Perhaps helping care for the baby would ease Heidi’s hurt. “If you’d like.”

Heidi didn’t have any younger siblings, yet she knew what to do. Were some people born with that knowledge? If so, what was she born for? Her mother’s voice answered, Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, there is no greater privilege than to run a home, entertain guests and be an asset to your father’s station in life. And when you marry, provide the same for your husband.

The lessons she had learned about maintaining flawless etiquette, organizing superb dinner parties and dressing to the most fashionable degree were all well and good in New York, but here they proved utterly useless. She couldn’t help but wonder if those lessons were truly any more useful in the big city. Certainly her fiancé had found her lacking, despite her rigorous training to be a high-society hostess. She shoved the thought away. She’d vowed not to think about Oliver once she boarded the train on this trip.

At her father’s request—insistence, really—Rebecca had left New York two months ago with thirty children. As an agent under the auspices of the Orphan Salvation Society, she had assisted the late Mr. Arlington in placing children at the various towns in Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and Nebraska. They had been on their way to Greenville—the final stop on their itinerary—when tragedy struck.

She tried to stop the horrifying memories from filling her mind, but they came with brilliant sharpness. The holdup of the train. The bandits making impossible demands. The children crying. The chaos that broke out when the thieves couldn’t open the safe and then the shock of a gunshot echoing through her head and heart. Her mouth still grew parched at the memory. Poor Mr. Arlington. His life ended a few miles from Evans Grove. But good had come even from the darkest of days, since the loss of Mr. Arlington had caused her and the children to settle—temporarily at first—in Evans Grove. If they’d gone to Greenville, most of the children would have ended up in Felix Baxter’s orphanage, farmed out for slave labor. Instead, nearly all the children had found good homes in Evans Grove. All but Heidi, who looked as happy as Rebecca had ever seen her with little Gabriel to care for.

Heidi spread a blanket on a clean board and indicated that Rebecca should put the baby down.

Colton moved closer, peering over Rebecca’s shoulder as Heidi tenderly folded back the quilt until the baby lay exposed in a white flannel gown.

Rebecca could not believe how tiny he was.

Colton whistled. “You ever see such a small baby?”

Heidi jerked back at his voice. She gave Rebecca a pleading glance before the baby’s cries drew her attention back to him. Rebecca let out a gust of air, thankful that Heidi hadn’t gone into hiding the way she often did with strangers.

She answered Colton’s question. “Never.” A fierce protectiveness filled her heart. She tore her gaze from the baby to Colton’s face and blinked at the way his green eyes glistened. As if he found the sight of the baby as incredible as she did. For a heartbeat she let herself share the sense of pleasure and possibility with him. Though she couldn’t have explained either if anyone asked.

She shifted her attention back to Heidi, carefully memorizing everything the child did. Rebecca might be inexperienced when it came to caring for babies, but she had proven over and over that she could learn new things very quickly. She’d learn how to care for this tiny newborn and provide for his every need.

Heidi put a dry diaper on the baby, then swaddled him in the quilt. She pulled at Rebecca’s skirt, urging her closer so she blocked Colton’s view. Then she sat cross-legged on the board, took the bottle from Rebecca’s hand and began to feed the baby. She indicated that Rebecca should lean closer and she did. “You have to wait until he stops crying so he won’t choke.”

Rebecca filed that information alongside the steps on changing the baby and swaddling him in a blanket. Then her brain raced with all the things she needed to do. “He’s going to need fresh milk. I’ll speak to Mr. Gavin about it. At the same time I’ll ask where the building supplies are. I’ll arrange for a crib or cradle to be put into our room at the hotel.” Somehow she’d care for the baby and oversee the orphanage construction at the same time. How hard could it be? She turned back to Colton to assure him that she could manage.

But she did not see approval in his face. She saw resistance. He opened his mouth, but she wouldn’t let him voice his argument. She might be a city girl, but she could handle a lot more than people gave her credit for.

“The orphanage should have been finished by now. That’s obviously what the mother of this little boy expected.” She tipped her head toward the note he still held. “As the person responsible for the building project, it’s only reasonable for me to care for him until he can be safely sheltered under this roof.” She indicated the building under construction.

He shook his head. “Not this baby.”

She stared at him. What did he mean? Was he suggesting that she wasn’t up to the challenge?

She tipped her chin and rallied her defenses.

* * *

“This baby belongs with me.” Colton forced himself to ignore the shocked hurt in Rebecca’s eyes.

Her cheeks flared pink. “He’s your son?”

His face burned and he hoped he didn’t turn the color of a bonfire. “No.”

“Then I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You see the quilt?”

From the way she looked at him, he knew he wasn’t making any sense.

“It’s my grandmother’s. Or rather, my grandmother made it.” He stumbled over the words. When had he ever had such a hard time explaining a simple thing? Never. But with Rebecca’s wild-flax-flower blue eyes on him, he could hardly think straight. He felt clumsy and way too big before her daintiness. Though she was tall for a woman, she still had to tip her chin to meet his eyes. Which she did, her expression was patient, serene and yet downright challenging. No doubt she wasn’t used to having her decisions disputed.

She might be a rich, city girl and he only a nothing-special kind of cowboy, but this baby wasn’t going to an orphanage if he had anything to say about it. “The quilt proves he’s connected to the Hayes family, and I aim to take care of him.” He let out a sigh of relief when she didn’t point out that the quilt might have been passed on to someone outside the family, though he detected a flicker in her eyes that might indicate she wondered at the possibility.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask how you intend to care for a baby. You’re a—”

“A cowboy. I know.”

“When I got here a few minutes ago, you didn’t know what to do with him. You appealed to me to help make him stop crying.”

“True. But I’m sure I can manage. My ma will help.” At least, she’d be able to give advice. “He’s family. I have an obligation.” Caring for a baby would stretch his time to the limit. Already he struggled to keep up, always torn between the demands of the ranch and the care of his parents. But he’d find a way to make it work. He wouldn’t accept any other possibility. He had a duty to this child, and he was determined never to fail in his family duties again.

She smiled, making it even more difficult for him to figure out his thoughts.

A tiny thread of suspicion made its way up to his brain. Was her smile meant to disarm him?

“I admire your sentiment.” Her tone didn’t quite match her words. “But it’s clear as glass that the mother intended the baby to be cared for in the orphanage. That means I am the one who should care for this baby until the building is finished.”

“Then what?” Surely there was more in the baby’s future than being raised in an institution. There were already too many children who didn’t have loving homes. A fact that tore at his insides. He wouldn’t leave an abandoned kitten to fend for itself, and the thought of abandoned, orphaned children seemed as wrong as a yellow sky. He couldn’t take in all the children who would eventually come to stay at the orphanage...but he could take in this one.

“He could be raised in the orphanage or maybe placed in a foster home or adopted,” Rebecca replied.

A moment ago he’d feared that his face was turning red. Now the blood rushed from it. “No. I’ll take him home. He’ll be safe with me.” He wouldn’t contemplate the baby going to strangers.

Little Heidi had fed the baby the milk and burped him. He now slept in her arms, the fingers of one hand curled around her index finger. Asleep he didn’t look like such a challenge.

Heidi saw him watching her—or, more correctly, the baby—and ducked behind Rebecca’s back. He understood Heidi’s shyness, having seen the scars on her face. They marred an otherwise beautiful child, but he didn’t find her appearance off-putting, especially given her sweet way with the baby. Since she hid behind the curtain of her saddle-brown hair and kept her face turned down, he guessed she thought otherwise. Someone should tell her to let people see her big brown eyes more often and they’d forget about her scars.

He returned his attention to Rebecca. The pretty blue eyes had become brittle granite. He took a step backward and tried to sort out his thoughts. He didn’t know the rules of arguing with a pretty city girl. All he knew was that he intended to personally see to the care of this infant and he’d brook no argument.

She turned to the little girl. “Come along, Heidi. We’ll go to the store first.”

Before she could take a step, he planted himself in her path. “Now, wait just a minute.” He tried to form a plan, mount a convincing defense, but her steady consideration of him and the way she held her head high left him scrambling for reason. “Look, maybe we can work something out.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

He didn’t have anything concrete planned, but perhaps they could share the responsibility. The idea immediately appealed to him. “There’s plenty of room at the ranch. You and Heidi and the baby could live there. I could help care for the baby and make sure he’s okay.” As he spoke, the idea took shape in his mind. “You wouldn’t have to stay at the hotel any longer.”

Rebecca smiled, though the brittleness remained in her eyes. “That’s a lovely idea.”

He heard the but before her smile faded.

“But I have to stay in town to see why the materials haven’t been delivered. I have to make sure this building is complete before the orphans come to live here. Wyatt will return any day with children.” Wyatt Reed was the newly appointed U.S. marshal charged with tracking down the orphans Baxter had hired out. The marshal had recently married Charlotte Miller and they’d adopted Sasha, one of Rebecca’s young charges. If Wyatt hadn’t discovered how Felix Baxter was getting rich by hiring out orphans from earlier trains, those poor children would still be suffering. “It makes me angry to think how the children have been mistreated.” Felix had robbed those children of any chance at a normal life.

Colton jerked his attention to the frame of the building beyond her shoulder. The only thing he could offer was his help. “I came here this morning to pitch in on the construction.” An idea took root and blossomed. “If you take care of the baby at the ranch, I could do more work on the orphanage.”

The doubt that clouded her eyes did not clear.

He had to convince her. It was the only way he could think to get her to give up or at least share the care of the baby. “I’ll take over supervision of the construction work. Personally see that this building gets completed in a timely fashion.” Surely a few words in the right ear and an occasional trip to town would be sufficient. The task wouldn’t require much time away from the ranch. It was the ideal solution.

But she shook her head. “I am not prepared to abdicate my task to someone else.”

He got the clear feeling that that was her final word on the subject. Was there anything that could be said to change her mind?

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