The Littlest Stowaway Page 3

  EVERYONE AGREED that “li’l orphan Annie,” as B.J. had nicknamed the baby, was hungry. She made that clear enough with her lusty wails and frantic fistsuckling. Unfortunately none of the adults in the room had any experience with babies. The paper bag B.J. had discovered in the plane held several plastic bottles, a can of powdered infant formula, and perhaps a dozen tiny disposable diapers.

  Steve eyed the can of formula doubtfully. The dry powder didn’t look particularly satisfying—or appetizing—to him. “This is all the kid needs to eat?”

  Casey transferred the baby to his arms, taking the can of formula from him without meeting his eyes. “All we have to do is read the directions,” she said, returning now to her usual efficient manner. “We need sterile water,” she added, glancing at the label.

  “There’s bottled water in the kitchen,” Madelyn volunteered. “And a microwave.”

  Casey nodded. “I’ll prepare a bottle. Someone should probably check the baby’s diaper while I’m gone.”

  Steve looked at B.J., who held up his huge, rough hands and shook his shaggy head. “Don’t look at me. As big as I am, I’m scared to even touch that little bitty girl.”

  Both men looked at Madelyn. “I’ve never changed a diaper,” she said with a shrug. “Only child, remember? Never even had a baby-sitting job while I was growing up.”

  Steve made a face. “I haven’t changed a diaper since I was twelve and my kid brother was a toddler.”

  “Looks like you’re elected,” B.J. said in relief. “You’ve had experience, however far in the past.”

  Steve seized on the only excuse that occurred to him. “But she’s a girl.”

  Madelyn’s eyes glinted with sudden humor. “B.J. and I will chaperone.”

  He swallowed, knowing when he was defeated. “Clear a spot on your desk, will you?”

  Madelyn had already cleaned her desk for the day, leaving the wooden surface uncluttered except for her open week-at-a-glance calendar and a plastic container full of sharpened pencils. She moved those aside and laid out a clean diaper. “Change away.”

  It was a terrifying experience. The baby cried and squirmed, looking so small and fragile that Steve’s fingers shook slightly when he touched her. He changed her as quickly as possible, thinking he should probably have baby wipes or powder or something, but making do with a clean, dry diaper.

  “There’s nothing else for her to wear in that bag?” Madelyn asked, touching a cautious fingertip to the baby’s thin white cotton shirt.

  Standing at a safe distance from the diapering area, B.J. shook his head. “That’s all I found.”

  “Here’s the bottle.” Casey reappeared just as Annie wound up to howl again. “I hope I did it right. I warmed it just a little more than room temperature.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Steve replied. “Why don’t you sit in Madelyn’s chair while you feed her?”

  “While I feed her?”

  “Hey, I changed her.”

  Casey looked at Madelyn, who shook her head, and at B.J., who backed away in alarm. “All right I’ll feed her,” she conceded, turning back to Steve with an air of resignation.

  She sat in Madelyn’s comfortable office chair and Steve laid the baby in her arms. For a moment, it seemed the unhappy infant would reject the rubber nipple Casey tried to offer. The adults held their breaths until the child finally latched on and began to nurse noisily. There was a collective sigh of relief when the crying was finally silenced.

  Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I’d better call and cancel my meeting in Memphis. B.J., why don’t you stop at Janice’s trailer park on your way home, see if anyone has heard from her?”

  B.J. nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Steve turned to Madelyn. “You might as well go home. Your mother will be worried. If you can think of anyone to call who might know something about Janice...”

  “I’ll think about it, but I don’t know anyone who knows her.”

  He nodded. “All right. I’ll see you Monday.”

  Madelyn hesitated, looking from him to the baby in Casey’s arms. “What are you going to do with the baby?”

  “I’ll take care of her,” he promised rashly. Somehow.

  He was doing this for Janice, he reminded himself. He only hoped she repaid her faith in him by coming back to claim her baby and then convincing him that she would never do anything like this again.

  When B.J. and Madelyn were gone, Steve turned back to Casey, who was watching the baby in obvious fascination. Something about the way she looked at Annie made Steve smile—and fall for her all over again.

  He cleared his throat, which had suddenly grown tight, and tried to dilute the awkward intimacy of the moment. “You should probably burp her.”

  She looked up at him, blinking as though she was surprised to find him still standing there—hardly a boost to his ego. “What?” she asked.

  Get ahold of yourself, Lockhart. Concentrate on the baby. “I don’t think she should take the whole bottle without burping. It might give her colic—or, uh, or something.”

  One corner of Casey’s mouth twitched with what might have been amusement at his expense. “You don’t really know much about babies, do you, Lockhart?”

  “No. Do you?”

  She made a face. “No.”

  Carefully, she pulled the nipple away from the baby’s mouth and set the bottle on the desk. And then she lifted Annie to her shoulder, awkwardly trying to support her wobbly little head with one hand and pat her back at the same time. It only took a moment for a noisy burp to emerge—along with a mouthful of regurgitated formula that trickled down Casey’s arm. “Oh, yuck,” she said. “That is so disgusting.”

  Grimacing sympathetically, Steve moved toward the bathroom. “I’ll get a damp paper toweL”

  “Thanks.” Casey stuck the bottle back into the baby’s searching mouth.

  Since Casey’s hands were occupied, Steve wiped her arm for her, efficiently removing all evidence of formula. Just because he liked touching her, he lingered over the task a bit longer than necessary. When she gave him a sudden, narrow-eyed look of warning, he pulled his hand away—noticing that he’d strayed perilously close to the soft curve of her breast—and tossed the paper towel into the wastebasket. Then he remained kneeling at Casey’s side, just because it was nice to be so close to her when they weren’t fighting, for a change. He reached out to stroke Annie’s downy hair with one finger. “She was hungry, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes.” Casey’s smoky blue eyes were worried when she met his gaze. “Steve, what are we doing?”

  He couldn’t resist glancing at her soft, unsmiling mouth which was so temptingly close to his. What were they doing? Oh, right. “We’re helping a friend.”

  She captured her lower lip between her teeth. If only she knew the gesture made his own mouth go dry.

  “I’m not at all sure we’ve done the right thing,” she fretted. “For all we know, Janice might want us to turn the baby over so a good home can be found for her. We have no way of knowing if she’ll come back—or if she’ll make a good mother if she does. Leaving Annie this way—I don’t know, Steve. It’s such an irresponsible thing to do.”

  “It seems that way, but I’m sure she knew I would help her out. She must have thought she was leaving the baby in good hands. Or at least in friendly hands,” he amended ruefully. “I have a feeling she was lurking somewhere around to make sure the baby was safe, even though we didn’t see her. There has to be a reason for what she’s done, even if we can’t imagine what it is right now.”

  Casey didn’t look notably relieved. “And if she doesn’t turn up by Monday?”

  “I already promised I’ll call the authorities,” he reminded her. “If there are legal repercussions for the delay—well, I’ll deal with them. I don’t even have to mention your name, if you want. As far as anyone will know, you never laid eyes on this kid.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Casey respon
ded dryly. “But I’m afraid I am involved. I’m a witness. I can’t just pretend I wasn’t here.”

  “So serious and responsible,” Steve murmured, smiling as he lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Do you ever break the rules, Casey, darlin’?”

  Her cheeks went pink. “Not very often,” she said repressively. “And I’ve asked you to stop calling me that.”

  “But I like calling you that.” He also liked looking at her, sitting so primly in Madelyn’s chair, holding the baby. The sight evoked fantasies he doubted she would appreciate at the moment

  The bottle wasn’t quite empty when Annie fell asleep. Casey managed to jostle one more burp out of her—a dry one this time—and then the baby settled down for a sound nap. Steve helped Casey lay Annie in the carrier, snugly fastening the straps. They both stepped back with a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, she’s changed, fed and sleeping. Now what?” Casey asked, turning to face him.

  “Uh—now I guess I take her home.”

  “You’re taking her home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your home?”

  He nodded.

  “By yourself?”

  “Unless you want to come with us,” he suggested hopefully.

  She surprised him by hesitating just a moment before she shook her head. “I’m not going home with you.”

  He smiled ruefully. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

  “Surely you have someone who can help you out Your, um, girlfriend, maybe?”

  “Now, darlin’, you know I’ve been hoping you would fill that vacancy,” he chided.

  Though her cheeks flamed, she pointedly ignored his remark. “What about your mother?”

  “She lives in Dallas.”

  “Don’t try to convince me you don’t know any women. I won’t believe it.”

  “Actually, I don’t know anyone who’d be interested in helping with a newborn,” he admitted. “And besides, the fewer people who know about this for now, the better.”

  “So you’re actually going to try to take care of this baby all weekend by yourself?”

  He swallowed and looked at the helpless infant in the plastic carrier. “I can handle it,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt

  “You don’t know how to make a bottle.”

  “I can read directions, same as you did.”

  A worried frown creased her forehead. “What if something goes wrong? What if she gets sick or something?”

  He wasn’t flattered that she was looking at him with such lack of assurance. “I can handle it,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

  Casey reached out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. Annie’s fingers curled reflexively. “You don’t even have a change of clothing for her.”

  “As long as I have clean diapers, we’ll get by.”

  Casey still looked worried. “I would give you a hand for a while this evening, but I have an appointment at eight.” She glanced at her watch. “As it is, I’m going to have to hurry or I’ll be late.”

  Steve wondered if she had a hot date. The prospect wasn’t one that pleased him—even though she would have correctly pointed out that it was none of his business. “Go ahead,” he said, knowing his voice had cooled a bit. “Annie and I will be fine.”

  Shifting her feet, she looked from Steve to the baby and back again. “Do you have a safe place for her to sleep? She’s not old enough to move around much, I think, but you have to be sure nothing covers her face. And I don’t think she’d be very comfortable staying in this carrier thing all night...”

  “Casey, go to your appointment. I said I would take care of Annie, and I will.”

  She bit her lower lip, then snatched a pencil and a slip of notepaper from Madelyn’s desk. “This is my home phone number. If you need my help, call me. Monday morning, after we’ve settled this one way or another, burn this number.”

  He grinned. “I’ll have committed it to heart by then.”

  “Then I’ll change it.” With one last, worried look at the baby, she moved slowly toward the door. “I hope that carrier is also a safe car seat. Put her in the back, belted in tightly, facing out the back window. Air bags are deadly to infants.”

  “I’ve watched the news, Casey. I know about air bags. Now go. We’ll be fine.”

  She was still looking nervously over her shoulder when she left the room.

  Steve was left alone with the sleeping baby.

  He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair, and drew in a deep breath. “Well, Annie, looks like it’s just you and me now. God help you.”

  He glanced at the note still lying on Madelyn’s desk. Please take care of Annie. “Janice,” he murmured, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  3

  CASEY WAS HAVING trouble concentrating. She tried to pay attention as Edward McClary told her every detail of his day, but her thoughts kept drifting to her own stressful afternoon. She hoped she’d made the right decision when she’d allowed Steve and his employees to talk her out of calling the police.

  She wondered how Steve was getting along. Was he taking good care of the baby? Did he know how and when to feed her? Would he know what to do if something went wrong? Annie was so tiny, so fragile. What if something terrible happened? What if she stopped breathing during the night? What if she’d been out in that hot airplane too long that afternoon?

  “Casey, are you listening to me?”

  Guiltily aware that she hadn’t heard a thing her stepbrother had said for the past five minutes or so, Casey looked across the restaurant table at him. “I’m sorry, Edward, I’m afraid I have been a bit distracted this evening. I encountered some...problems at work today.”

  A quick frown crossed his handsome face. Edward, Casey knew, didn’t like her stressing about her work—not because he resented her inattention, but because he had been fretful since she took over JCS that the burden would be too much for her. While she appreciated his concern, Casey found it a bit exasperating. Edward was one of the doubters she felt she had to prove something to by making JCS as strong and profitable as it had been in its heyday under her father’s management

  “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She wondered what he would do if she told him exactly what had happened, and the decision she had made not to contact the authorities. He would hit the ceiling, she imagined. He would be convinced that she would be hauled off to jail, or that some dire consequence would result from her uncharacteristic irresponsibility. Edward was a compulsive worrier—and often directed those worries toward his stepsister, for whom he had felt responsible ever since his widowed mother had married Casey’s widowed father when Edward was ten and Casey only six.

  “Never mind, Edward,” she told him with a forced smile. “It isn’t anything I can’t handle.”

  “You’re sure? Casey, I really wish you would listen to my advice—for once—and consider selling the business. Or at least taking on a partner. I worry about you. You spend too much time and energy on the business, and not enough on your own needs.”

  She sighed. “I’ve told you before—repeatedly— that I am perfectly capable of running JCS and I have no intention of selling. Nor do I need a partner.” And then she smiled. “Unless you’re applying for the position?”

  As she had known he would, Edward practically shuddered. “I’m perfectly content with the job I have, thank you.”

  A cosmetic dentist, Edward had never been interested in his stepfather’s company. He couldn’t comprehend why Casey was so determined to put in fourteen-hour days and court ulcers and migraines just to keep Jansen Charter Service in operation. He had also never understood how insulting she found his assumption that, because she was a young woman, she wasn’t qualified to run the business.

  Despite their differences and the lack of a real blood relationship between them, Casey and Edward had worked to maintain a relationship even after Edward’s m
other died five years ago and Casey’s father’s death last year. They dined together once a month and spoke on the phone a time or two in between. The tenuous connection between them was important to both of them—probably because it was the only family bond either of them had left

  Except for Edward and a few distant cousins, Casey was almost as alone as Janice, she realized somberly. Yet, if she found herself abandoned, broke and pregnant, she knew she could turn to her stepbrother. Had Janice truly had no one to help her? Was that the reason she had put her fate in Steve Lockhart’s hands?

  Now that she’d had time to think about it, Casey wasn’t particularly surprised that Janice trusted Steve that much. Steve was well-known around the airport for his kindness, his impulsive generosity, and his loyalty to his employees. He was a man people instinctively liked. Casey didn’t actually dislike him, though he irritated her to no end with his incessant teasing. Mostly, he worried her. His charter service was growing quickly and though not yet as well established as Jansen Charter Service, he was beginning to cut into her customer base. Each time he seduced one of her clients away from her, she found her own self-doubt growing.

  What if it were true that she wasn’t qualified to run the business her father and his father before him had managed so successfully? What if she really was too young and inexperienced? What if her father had been right to have so little faith in her...?

  “You’ve drifted off again,” Edward said. “Casey, really, if there’s something seriously wrong...if you need anything from me...”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little tired.”

  Which, of course, only gave him a new reason to fuss. “You aren’t getting enough rest. And not enough fun. You’re too young to spend all your time working. Most women your age go to parties and out on dates, or are starting their families. You don’t even make time to see anyone outside of the office.”

  “I see you,” she reminded him, trying to sidestep the all-too-familiar discussion she knew was coming.

  He shook his head stubbornly. “I’m your brother. I’m talking about other men. Don’t tell me you don’t want a family—I know you better than that.”