Page 36 of The Cowboy's Miracle Baby

Or until Cami found Lolly’s real mother.

Lolly finished her bottle, looking milk drunk, and Cami lifted her onto her shoulder for a burp. Her compact little body fit perfectly in the curve of Cami’s shoulder and her smell… that baby smell was slightly intoxicating to her, as well. She supposed that was how it worked in nature. A perfect design for mother and child.

Cami stared into the darkened room. Even if she did manage to find Lolly’s mom—and the odds were against it—she didn’t really have a plan to fix this. Finding her might only lead to Tara—if it was Tara—being arrested. Deep down, Cami couldn’t imagine what would have to happen in her own life for her to do what Tara had done. Then again, who knew what she’d been through? What she had left? Who was there to help her?

Cami’s guess to all of those questions was that she was alone in the world without help or support. She wished she knew. Tomorrow, she would track down and call the Simons, and find out what they knew.

Meanwhile…

She had two days left of school before the holiday break. Her mom and Shay, who luckily only did part-time freelance accounting off the ranch, had volunteered to watch Lolly until she got home from school in the afternoon. Thank God for them.

She rested her head back against the chair and began thinking about Gus and how his arm had felt around her on the hayride. She was pretty sure it was simply a kind gesture on his part, to keep her warm, but remembering it now sent a whole different sort of warmth through her. The imagining kind of warmth. In her mind, she traced the outline of his face, lit by moonlight and the little cleft in his chin, the dimple in his cheek, smiling as she did.

Gah! Cami. For heaven’s sake! In a minute, you’ll be doodling little hearts on a notebook with his initials scribbled on it.

She gave the baby a squeeze. Okay, so it had been a long while since someone—a male someone—had that effect on her. It wasn’t like she’d intentionally quit dating after Patrick. She’d just never found anyone who made her feel… like the world just got bigger. Like… there was something on the other side of the little box she’d been living in. Like… if he’d kissed her, she would have wanted more.

Don’t get carried away. He’s on his way out of town soon. Permanently. Besides, he only asked you to dinner. And to help pick out a gift for Ella. No big deal.But even more embarrassingly, she’d been actively contemplating what to wear on a date three days from now. She glanced at the small clock above the mantel… 2:37a.m.

Make that two days from now.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and yawned. Whether she’d manage to stay awake on a date with Gus Claymore was another matter altogether.

At the front window, Poppy, the half-grown pup who’d been sleeping peacefully on his dog bed, suddenly startled and alerted at the window. A low growl rumbled in his throat, which was unusual for Poppy who didn’t usually have a single, guard dog instinct in him. But the hair on the back of Cami’s neck went up and she prayed he didn’t start barking and wake Lolly.

It could be coyotes, who often frequented their pastures, sometimes in packs, hunting for rabbits or gophers or, occasionally, a newborn foal. The two that had just been born were still in a stall in the barn with their mamas. But there weren’t any newborns in the field. And she didn’t hear the telltale yips of the pack.

Poppy was almost five months old now and not full grown, but he was already big enough to intimidate a full-grown man if need be. Not that he’d ever been so inclined. Nor was Pippa, who was fast asleep upstairs in Ryan’s room.

Cami stood and moved to the window. “What is it, Pops?” She ran her fingers through Poppy’s fur staring out into the moonlit darkness. “What do you see out there?”

The dog’s stare was fixed on the road to the bigger of their two barns and something she could not see at all. “It’s okay. It’s nothing. Let’s leave it. Probably just the wind.”

But it was several minutes before the dog would leave the window reluctantly and settle back down to sleep. Cami glanced out the window one last time, checked the door lock, and returned to her room with the baby and settled her in her bassinet. It was probably nothing. But something told her it wasn’t nothing. Maybe, she thought, with the irrationality that came in the middle of the night… maybe it was a sign.

*

Over the nexttwo days, between teaching the final days before winter break and surviving nearly sleepless nights, Cami did her best to hold everything together. While Shay and her mother watched Lolly during school hours, her students were too excited and preoccupied with the upcoming holiday to do much learning, but there were tests to be taken and papers to be graded. In between, she was determined to wrangle a bit of fun from the last week of school with inside games and lots of art projects.

Two more rehearsals for Sunday’s Christmas pageant had been crammed into her already-busy schedule, but the rehearsals went surprisingly well, aside from the fact that a viral cold was raging its way through her cast and two of her shepherds were down for the count. Gus had appeared before the end of the last rehearsal to watch from the back of the church. It made her nervous, seeing him there. But when one of the dogs—who were standing in for the goats who would appear in the real performance—started chasing a cat that had wandered into the sanctuary, Gus was the one who’d caught it and calmed it down, averting disaster with the manger set. Gus to the rescue…

Somehow, on little to no sleep, she’d held it all together.

Later this week there would be the Christmas pageant, then Izzy and Will’s wedding this weekend, for which she could hardly wait. Then Christmas.

She was exhausted just thinking about the week to come.

And during lulls in her ridiculous schedule, she managed to track down the Simons, but a phone call to Mrs. Simon was not, in the end, much help. Yes, Tara had been their foster daughter for two years. No, she did not live with them now. At eighteen, she had, in fact, aged out of the foster care system, and they were not in a position to adopt her. She explained that while the goal of most foster situations was to somehow reunite birth parents with their children, Tara’s own parents had lost parental rights years ago.

No, Tara hadn’t been in touch for months, despite Mrs. Simon’s attempts to reach her. It turned out that Tara had fallen for a considerably older boy during her last year of high school and that the Simons—vocally—disapproved of him. But Tara had been stubborn about it.

“Looking back,” Mrs. Simon had said in a voice that seemed to hold a mountain of regret, “that boy must have felt like an anchor to Tara. An anchor to hold onto, grounding her for a future that was, at best, very unclear. He wasn’t good for her. We knew that much. At least we told her as much, but she didn’t believe us. We were maxed out with four other fosters and two of our own when my husband got a new job in Missoula, and we had to move. We told her she could go with us and that we would help her get an apartment, but she said no. She stayed here in Marietta with…him. With Joey.”

“And this was a year ago?”

“Not quite. We moved early last summer.”

“So,” Cami asked, “the older boy? Did she move in with him?”

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