Page 5 of Due North
“Cece, I’m just opening the door,” I said, my brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
I pushed the door open and let it rattle against the doorstop. An automatic glance around the room froze me in place. There was a little body cuddled on a bed under a fleece blanket. “What the hell?” I asked, spinning on my boot heel to face the woman next to me.
Cece’s entire body trembled as tears gushed from her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Caleb,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. We need help.”
I caught her in my arms as she crumbled to the floor and sobbed incoherently in my arms. I rocked her, whispering that it was going to be okay, but my gaze never left the little cherub on the bed, her eyes closed and her red curls, the same curls as the woman I held in my arms, fanned across her face.
Two
I woke slowly with the sun bright on my face. Where was I? I glanced around the room and realized I was back in my bedroom at the main house at Heavenly Lane. A warm body was pressed against my chest tightly, her little arms wrapped around my neck. When I opened my eyes, hers were open too. I smiled and kissed her forehead. My lips lingered there, and I inhaled the scent of her baby shampoo. The scent tickled my nose and convinced my heart to slow its hammering now that she was safe with me.
The scene in the bunkhouse came rushing back to me, dragging a groan from my lips. I had collapsed in Caleb’s arms, so exhausted I couldn’t even speak. Somehow, we ended up here, but I couldn’t remember anything after he opened the door and found my secret.
“You’re awake,” Dawn said from the doorway where she stood with a cup of coffee. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
I stroked the red curls of the little girl in my arms and tried to smile, but it was impossible around the tremble of my lips. “I’m better. How long have I been asleep?”
“Only a couple hours. The little one has been awake for an hour, but I couldn’t convince her to come with me to the kitchen for a snack.”
I tightened my arms around my little girl, and shook my head, her warm body reminding me that we were safe. We were safe here. “She won’t go with anyone she doesn’t know.”
“That’s okay. I stayed here and kept an eye on her, but she was happy to be with you,” Dawn said. “I know you’re scared, but you’re not alone, Cece. Not on this ranch. You got that?”
I swallowed hard as the pain and fear swelled in my chest. “I don’t know what to do, Dawn,” I said, a tear falling down my cheek.
I sat up, and my little monkey sat up with me, her arms still wrapped around my neck and her legs going around my waist in an automatic motion.
“You’re going to get up, come to the kitchen, and have something to eat. We’re going to feed the little one and make sure she’s happy, and then you can tell us what happened. Okay?”
I braced my hand under Poppy’s bottom and stood, nodding as I slid my feet into a pair of slippers. Poppy grunted and reached toward the bed, reminding me I couldn’t go anywhere without pink blankie. She’d had it since she was a baby. It was ratty with sewn together holes, but Poppy didn’t care.
I followed Dawn down to the kitchen holding Poppy in my arms. I wasn’t surprised to see Amity sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her while wearing concern like a shawl. I squeezed Poppy tighter to me as I sat down in a chair, shifting her, so she sat on my lap, her blanket up to her face as she inhaled the scent. She did it to soothe herself. I wished I had my own pink blankie right about now.
Dawn slid a cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee in front of me along with a smaller bowl with a cut-up cinnamon roll for Poppy. “That smells like heaven,” I whispered, wiping away another tear. “I wish I had an appetite.”
I held the bowl out to Poppy, and she picked up a piece of the yeasty dough and licked it. Deciding it was safe, she hungrily ate the entire roll in under a minute.
“Does she like milk?” Dawn asked.
“She does, but she needs a special cup. I don’t know where it is right now.”
Dawn held up the sippy cup with gripper handles. “This one? I found it in the bed in the bunkhouse, so I washed it up.”
“That’s the one,” I said, waiting while she filled it with milk and gave it to Poppy. The little girl leaned back against my chest and sucked on the cup, her eyes assessing the others in the room in the most suspicious way possible for a three-year-old who just had her world ripped out from under her.
Amity waved at Poppy with the smile of a grandma whose grandchild was their pride and joy. Poppy gave a small wave before she gripped her cup again and buried her face in my chest out of shyness.
“She’s a doll baby, Cecelia,” Amity said. “What’s her name?”
“Poppy Rose,” I said, resting my chin on her baby-fine hair. “Born with a head of red hair on Valentine’s Day, the name fits her perfectly.”
“She shares your birthday?” Amity asked in surprise.
“We’re birthday buddies.” That was all I could say because my heart was breaking. My sister always loved that her daughter was born at 12:02 a.m. on Valentine’s Day. When I held Poppy the first time, she had whispered it was meant to be. Then, I laughed with the joy of a new aunt. Now, I could see that she was right.
“Is she your daughter?” Dawn asked, sitting down at the table.
My chin trembled for a moment until I cleared my throat. “She is now, but not biologically. Poppy is my niece.”
