Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“Do you want to see her? She’s sleeping but I can get her.” I don’t know this woman. I’m not entirely sure that Micah does either. But I’m not going to keep a mama from seeing her baby.
“Maybe I could take a quick peek.” Her anxious gaze flickers to Micah. “If that’s OK.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “When did you leave her on the porch?”
She rattles off the date easily, seeming to shrink in on herself.
“What did you leave her with?”
She answers that question with her shoulders hunched against the biting wind.
I know he’s just trying to verify who she is. After all, anyone could appear on his doorstep and claim to be Abby’s mother. It’s just like Micah to slip into protector mode. But I believe this girl. I think she’s exactly who she says she is.
I move my hand from his back and put it on his arm instead.
He looks to me and I give him a little nod, letting him know that I trust her. “Abby will be safe.”
“Is that what you named her?” The girl asks.
I hold out my hand, feeling compassion for the girl standing in front of me. I don’t know what led her here, why she chose Micah or how she left little Abby behind. But I know she’s my daughter’s mother. She’s given me the most precious gift in all the world, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that. “Yes, and I’m Chloe.”
She doesn’t take my hand, but she does lift her chin. “Sydney.”
I give her a smile that I hope is welcoming. “Well, come on in out of the cold and see your daughter. Then we’ll have breakfast if you want it.”
I still don’t know why she’s here. But given her hesitation, I don’t think she’s here for her daughter. At least, I don’t believe she’s here to take her back. If anything, she’s skittish and shy.
Sydney follows me to our bedroom where the crib is. Micah has a spare room that he’s been working to turn into a nursery. But he’s taking his time and I think it’s because he doesn’t want her sleeping away from us.
I move to the crib, gesturing for Sydney to come near.
Micah stands in the doorway with his arms crossed again. It’s not lost on me that he’s blocking the room’s exit. He studies her, his face an unreadable mask. This must feel like his worst nightmare.
“You’re sure she’s happy?” Sydney asks again, peering into the crib.
“She’s the sweetest thing,” I assure her. “She can lift her head up a little on her own. And she coos at us. I think I even saw her smile the other day. Would you like to hold her?”
She shakes her head. “Babies aren’t my thing.”
I lead her back into the living room, so we won’t disturb Abby and encourage her to take a seat. She perches on the edge of a loveseat, the one nearest the door. She looks like she could bolt at any moment.
I sit across from her on the couch. I gesture for Micah to join me, but he paces the room, agitated and frustrated.
Since he’s processing this, I turn to Sydney. “Abby is incredible, and I’m grateful to you. I’m grateful that she’s here.”
“I’m glad she landed with you two. Guess I did one thing right for her, huh? I mean, she’s cute and all. But I’m not...I wasn’t ready.”
“That’s OK,” I reassure her quickly. I don’t want her feeling guilt or shame. Not everyone is suited to be a mother, and I don’t care how Abby came into my life. I only care that she’s a part of it now. “We love her.”
Abby lets out a wail, and I glance at Micah. He still looks distraught, so I say, “I’ll settle her with a bottle. You talk with Sydney.”
Micah
I stare down at the teenage girl. Fuck, she’s young. Too young for a baby. She looks like she should be graduating high school and packing a beat-up car with furniture for college. Not wandering around homeless and gaunt.
She fiddles with her backpack and a loose string on her pants, anything really. That’s when her nervous habits finally jolt my memory.
“Nashville. I was on business for the ranch. Gave you a ride.” I don’t usually give out rides but something about her made me want to stop. She ran her hand up my thigh as soon as she was in the truck. I made it damn clear we weren’t doing anything like that. But I offered her dinner, and we ended up at an all-night diner. We sat for hours, shooting the breeze and talking about nothing important.
She tips her head, studying me. “You do remember me. I didn’t expect you to.”
Now that I’ve placed her, everything about that evening comes flooding back. “That was what...eight months ago?”