“Sometimes I wonder if I’m cheating Alex out of a real family.”

Easily pushing Alex’s stroller with one hand, Nic took Cassidy’s elbow in the other and guided them across the busy street. “Don’t do that. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I want what’s best for him.”

“That would be you. You are a real family. Small but mighty.”

She was starting to believe him.

After they stepped up on the curb, Nic dropped his hold. She realized how protected and safe she’d felt for those few seconds. Nic was working his amazing charm on her and she couldn’t seem to stop reacting to him.

He was in her thoughts constantly. And on the days he didn’t bounce up to her apartment with some silly quip or tale of wild adventure or jokingly asking to borrow a cup of sugar, she missed him.

At times like this, she could forget he was a firefighter and how much that scared her.

Almost.

LINDA GOODNIGHT

Winner of a RITA® Award for excellence in inspirational fiction, Linda Goodnight has also won the Booksellers’ Best, ACFW Book of the Year, and a Reviewers’ Choice Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews magazine. Linda has appeared on the Christian bestseller list and her romance novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages. Active in orphan ministry, this former nurse and teacher enjoys writing fiction that carries a message of hope and light in a sometimes dark world. She and her husband, Gene, live in Oklahoma. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com, or c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

The Baby Bond
Linda Goodnight

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

—Isaiah 43:2–3

During the writing of this book, I was blessed

to have the help of an awesome group of real-life

heroes—the men of B Crew, Fire Station One in

Norman, Oklahoma. Captain Lenny Mulder,

Driver Keith Scott, and firefighters Matt Hart and

Cody Goodnight answered any and all questions,

discussed scenarios and even let me ride along

on a call in the new fire engine. Thanks, guys.

You’re the best!

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

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Nic Carano leaped from the fire engine as soon as the truck came to a rolling stop, heedless of the sixty pounds of turnout gear weighing him down. Along with the captain, the driver and two other firefighters from Station One, he’d been the first to arrive on a very bad scene. Flames shot out of the front windows of an old two-story Victorian. Fully involved. Being devoured by the beast. Smoke plumed upward like gray, evil genies. With a sinking heart, Nic realized fire crews had only arrived and they were already behind.

Almost simultaneously, Engine Company Two wailed onto the scene and “pulled a spaghetti” as a pair of firefighters, moving in opposite directions, circled the structure with the two smaller lines.

Someone said, “We’ve got people inside.”

Nic’s adrenaline jacked to Mach speed. He glanced at his captain, and noticed the fire reflecting gold and red in the other man’s pupils. Without a word, Nic tapped a finger to his chest. Ten minutes ago he’d been asleep in his bunk. Now he was wide awake and revved for takeoff.

“You and Ridge do the primary.” Captain Jack Summers’s graying mustache barely moved as he spoke. “No heroics.”

His captain knew him well. Nic wanted in. He wanted to face the beast and win. Maybe he broke a rule now and then, but Captain knew he’d never endanger the crew. He and Sam Ridge, a quietly intense Kiowa Indian had gone to the academy together and practically read each other’s minds.

If there were people inside, they would find them.

He and Ridge charged the house, pulling hose. Engine Company Two axed through the front door. The beast roared in anger. Nic and Sam hit their knees, crawling low into the dark gray blindness. As nozzle man, Nic went first, spraying hot spots while Sam rotated the thermal imaging camera left to right around the rooms.

The whoosh-hush of his own breathing filled his ears. Darth Vader, he thought with humor. Otherwise he heard nothing, saw nothing.

“Front room clear,” he said, feeling his way through a doorway to the left and into the next room.

“We got casualties.” His partner’s terse words jacked another stream of adrenaline into Nic’s already thundering bloodstream. He aimed the hose in the direction Sam indicated and crawled through the smoke to a bed. Two people lay far too still.

In moments, he and Ridge had shouldered the victims and were back outside. A man and a woman. Young. Maybe his age. He discerned no movement, no rise and fall of rib cage. Smoke, he figured, because they looked asleep. The woman was blond. In Scooby Doo pajamas.

Paramedics took over, working frantically. But Nic’s gut hurt with the knowledge: they’d arrived too late.

Nic clenched his jaw against the emotion. Fury at the fire. Fury at himself for being too late.

Though he’d been on the force for five years and he’d been taught to stay detached, firefighters were human. This could be one of his sisters.

“I’m going back in,” Nic said grimly. “There may be kids upstairs.”

More victims was always a possibility. He could only hope the smoke hadn’t gotten that far yet.

The captain gripped his shoulder. “Parrish and Chambers can go.”

Nic shook his head, already changing to fresh air tanks. “Me and Ridge. We started it. Let us finish it.”

The captain’s radio crackled. Lifting the black rectangle to his lips, Summers motioned toward the inferno. “Go. Don’t do anything stupid.”

This wasn’t the first time Nic had heard the warning. And it wouldn’t be the last.

He and Sam made the stairs in double time. Fire danced below them, taunting and teasing. The firefighters outside were doing their job, knocking down the worst. Smoke rolled as wild and dark as Oklahoma thunderheads.

The thin wail of a smoke detector pierced the crackle and roar of the blaze. Downstairs had been ominously silent. No detector. Or one that had been disconnected. Nic’s teeth tightened in sad frustration.

Again, moving clockwise, they searched two rooms before Nic heard another sound. He stopped so fast, his buddy slammed into him.

“Did you hear that?” Nic asked.

“Can’t hear anything over that detector but you, puffing like a freight train.”

Nic pointed with his chin. “Scan over there.”

Sam raised the camera. “Bingo.”

The noise came again, a mewling cry. “A kid?”

“Baby.” Sam shifted the viewfinder into Nic’s line of sight. “And he’s kicking like mad.”

Nic wasted no breath on the exultant shout that formed inside him. Handing off the nozzle to his partner, Nic approached the crib and had the crying child in his arms in seconds. His blood pumped harder than the engine outside, consuming way too much air. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sam scanned the rest of the room as they exited, hosing hot spots along the way. A crumpling roar shook the floor beneath them. They both froze. Nic tucked the baby closer, waiting to see if the flooring would give way and send them plummeting down into the inferno.

Sometimes Nic wondered if his afterlife would be like that: A trapdoor sprung open and a long fall down into the flames.

Pray, Mama, he thought, knowing Rosalie Carano prayed for him all the time. He was her stray son, the one who danced on the borderline between faith and failure. Often she told of waking in the night to pray when he was on duty. He hoped she’d awakened tonight.

With the fire below them, eating its way up, it was only a matter of time until the second floor would be fully involved or structurally unsound. If it wasn’t already.

“Move it, Sam. This little dude is struggling.” Everything in him wanted to break protocol and give the baby his air mask. He’d do it, too, if he had to and worry about the consequences later. Nic reached toward his regulator.

A gloved hand stopped him.

“Don’t even think about it, hotshot,” Ridge growled, reading his intention. “You’re no good to him dead.”

Ridge was right. As always. Neither of them knew what might transpire before they could escape. Firefighters had been trapped in far less volatile situations.

Nic gave a short nod and started down the stairs, the infant tight against his chest. Almost as quickly, he jerked to a stop and slung his opposite arm outward to block Sam. “Trouble.”

Big trouble.

Heart jackhammering, Nic spoke into his radio. “Firefighter Carano to Captain of Engine One. Stairs have collapsed. We have an infant, approximately three months old, conscious and breathing, but we have no means of egress. I repeat, Captain, we have no means of egress.”

A moment of silence seemed to stretch on forever. The baby had stopped struggling. Gone quiet.

Pray, Mama. Pray for this kid.

Nic was reaching for his air mask again when the radio crackled. “Firefighter Carano, you have a window on D side, second story. We’ll send up an aerial.”

He dropped his hand.

“10-4.” Now to find the window. Fast. Though the upstairs smoke remained moderate, the darkness was complete. Without the imaging camera, he was as good as blind.

Keeping the baby as low to the ghostly haze as possible, Nic felt his way around the walls through the upper rooms, working toward what he hoped was D side. His partner found the exit first and opened it with a forcible exit tool. Glass shattered, the sound loud and welcome. The baby jerked. Cool night air rushed in.

Nic yearned to reassure the frightened infant. Through the plastic of his visor, he looked down into the wide, tearing eyes. Poor little dude would probably grow up with a terror of Star Wars.

The ladder clattered against the outside. Nic handed the child to Sam and climbed out, grateful for the flood of light as he reached back for the baby. He always appreciated life and light and fresh air a lot more after an entry such as this.

In seconds, he was down the ladder and on the ground. Paramedics whisked the baby out of his arms and started toward the ambulance. Nic followed, ripping away his helmet and mask as he walked.

His legs felt like deadweights inside his turnout boots.

“He gonna be all right?”

The red-haired paramedic, Shannon Phipps, nodded, her busy hands assessing, applying oxygen and otherwise doing her job with rapid-fire efficiency.

“You done good, Carano,” she said.

Nic knew he was expected to shoot back a wisecrack so he did. In truth, all he could think of was the tiny boy in blue sleepers who would never know his mother and father.

“We’ll get him to the hospital,” Shannon said. “But I think he’ll make it. Listen to that cry.”

Nic nodded, watched the paramedics load and slam doors. Heard the whack-whack of a hand on the back indicating the ambulance could pull away.

He jogged to his captain, equipment thudding, and then, as the ambulance started to leave, he stepped in front of the headlights. The driver slammed on his breaks and rolled down his window.

With a frown, the paramedic said, “Carano, I should have known it was you. You maniac, what are you doing?”

“Make room,” he said. “I’m going with you.”

This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Please, God in heaven, this can’t be real.

Cassidy Willis’s mind chanted disjointed prayers and denials as she stumbled down the corridor of Northwood Regional.

Janna and Brad would be waiting for her. They would laugh and yell a very cruel “April Fool.” This was not real. Her sister and brother-in-law could not be dead.

A nurse stopped her. “Miss, are you all right?”

Cassidy nodded numbly.

“Fine.” The word came out as a croak. “I need room twelve-fifteen. Alexander Brown. My nephew.”

Comprehension and a heavy dose of compassion registered behind the nurse’s glasses. She knew baby Alex was an orphan now.

An orphan. Oh no. Could she live through this torment again? She’d already lost her parents. Janna had been her family, her best friend, her sister. They’d had each other when life had been too hard to bear.

Cassidy closed her eyes and swayed. The nurse looped an arm gently through hers. “I’ll walk you down. You must be devastated.”

Devastated. Devastated. Like a recording stuck on repeat, words reverberated and replayed in her head.

All she could do was nod and stumble on, going through the motions. Doing what had to be done.

Whatever that was.

Alex. Baby Alex needed her. He was alone. All alone in a violent world that had stolen his mommy and daddy. A mommy and daddy who had loved him fiercely.

She felt lost. Alone. Just like Alex.

At the door of the room, she paused and sucked in a deep breath, hoping for strength, settling for vague sensory input. Hospital food. The clatter of trays coming off the elevator. Breakfast.

It seemed like hours since the sheriff had appeared at her door. But morning had just arrived, the dawn of a new and terrible day. A day she could not bear to face.

Maybe she was still asleep. Still dreaming. That was it. Bad dreams about death and destruction were all too common to her.

Wake up, Cass. Wake up.

The urging didn’t work. She was still standing outside a thick, brown door inside Northwood Regional Hospital staring into the gentle eyes of a nurse. Wishing she could slide to the floor and die, too, Cassidy faced the fact that this nightmare was the real thing.

“Is Alex…?” How did she ask if he was horribly burned or hooked up to tubes and wires? If he was suffering?

The nurse nodded, understanding Cassidy’s concern. “He was far enough away from the fire to escape the worst. He suffered some smoke inhalation, but nothing that breathing treatments won’t resolve in a few days. He should recover well.”

With a push to the center of her glasses, the kind woman left the rest unsaid. Alex had slept in the remodeled nursery upstairs. His parents slept downstairs in the unfinished portion of the old house. The fire must have started on the bottom floor, sucking their lives away while they slept, exhausted from the chore of remodeling the beautiful old Victorian into a bed-and-breakfast. A dream that would die with them.

The nurse hovered, leaning close to whisper. “He came in with the baby. I hope you don’t mind.”

Cassidy paused, perplexed, the flat of one hand against the cool wooden door.

“Who?” She had no relatives close enough to have arrived already. Not anymore. No one but Alex.

“The firefighter. He won’t leave.”

Cassidy tensed. The last thing she wanted was a firefighter hanging around to remind her of what she and Alex had lost this horrible night. She wanted the man to get out, to leave her in peace. But she hadn’t the strength to say so.

“I’ll handle things from here. Thank you.” Her voice sounded strangely detached, as though her vocal cords belonged to someone else far away in a big, empty auditorium.

“If I can do anything….”

Cassidy managed a nod. At least she thought she did as she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The eerie quiet that invades a hospital deepened inside the room. Pale morning light from the curtained windows fell across a bulky form. Still dressed in the dark-yellow pants and black boots of a firefighter, stinking of soot and smoke, a man had pulled a chair against the side of Alex’s crib. Turnout coat hung on the back of the chair, his dark head was bowed, forehead balanced on the raised railing. One of his hands stretched between the bars, holding Alex’s tiny fingers.

Too exhausted and numb and grief-stricken to think, Cassidy paused in the doorway to contemplate the unlikely pair—a baby and a fireman. What was the man doing? Sleeping? Praying? Why was he here?

Unexpected gratitude filtered in to mix and mingle with her other rampaging emotions. After the night’s tragedy, she could hardly bear to think about anything related to fire—even the men who fought it—but she was very glad her four-month-old nephew had not been alone all this time.

The fireman roused himself, lifting his head to observe the sleeping baby and then to turn and look at her. Cassidy’s first impression was of darkness. The same black soot covering his clothes smeared his face, so that Cassidy had a hard time discerning his age or looks. His eyes, though reddened behind the spiky eyelashes, were as dark as his nearly black hair. Only the fingerprint cleft in his chin stood out, stark white against the soot.

With another look at the baby, the man carefully slid his fingers from Alex’s grip and stood. He wasn’t overly tall, but his upper body was athletic and fit beneath the navy Northwood Fire Department shirt. Weariness emanated from him.

“Are you the aunt?” he asked. “They said he had an aunt.” He glanced back at Alex, swallowed. “My sister has a baby.”

Then he stopped as if the word sister was too strong a reminder of the night’s loss.

“Yes, I’m his aunt. Cassidy Willis.”

She moved to the raised crib and gazed down at the child with her sister’s dark-blond hair and Brad’s high cheekbones. What was she going to do now? What would Janna want her to do? Who would be mother and father to her sister’s little boy?

“Is anyone else coming to be with you?”

Gripping the rail with both hands, she struggled to think. Her brain was a fog. Her emotions jumbled, but mostly numb.

“Brad’s parents.”

“Brad?” he asked gently, standing close as though he thought she’d faint. The scent of smoke seeped from him in insidious waves. Her stomach churned, fighting down a memory. She’d hated the smell of smoke before. Now she hated it even more.

“Alex’s father. My sister’s husband, Bradley Brown.”

“Ah.” He didn’t have to say the words. She could hear his thoughts. Brad Brown was dead along with her sister.

“His parents live in Missouri, just over the state line. They’ll come.”

“Have they been notified?”

She looked at him then, lost. Notified? Of what? “The fire?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I gave their information to the sheriff.” At least she thought she had. Those moments in her small living room with the solemn sheriff were a painful blur, a slow-motion torture of trying to comprehend the loss, of answering questions, of understanding that Alex needed her and she had no time to grieve.

She knew little about Brad’s parents except that they lived in Joplin and had raised a son who loved her sister. The pair of them had been building the one thing Janna and Cassidy had always dreamed of—a real family.

“The sheriff will make sure they are notified.”

Good. She wasn’t certain she could speak the words that resigned her sister to eternity. Dead was such a powerful term, as if saying it aloud made it so.

“They’re probably on their way now. My grandmother. I called her.” For whatever good it would do.

Grandmother Bassett had been detached from her life and Janna’s, an austere provider who sometimes seemed surprised to find them living in her house. She’d taken them in as orphans, but she’d been too busy with her business and her own social circle to be a parent. Though a good person in her way, Eleanor Bassett did not know how to comfort and nurture. If she came at all, she’d do so only to issue orders.

With a shudder of hopelessness, Cassidy realized she had no one now to understand and share her pain. No one to help her make decisions for Alex. No one but God. And at the moment, God seemed far, far away.

Oh, Janna. My beloved sister.

“Isn’t there someone close? You shouldn’t be alone.”

She’d always had Janna. They’d run to each other when trouble came. “No one, but I’m fine.”

For most of her life, she’d depended on no one but Janna or herself. Leaning on others, asking for help, did not come easily. She could handle this, the same way she’d handled the loss of her parents and growing up in a home that was less than warm. Without God, she wasn’t sure she would have survived to adulthood. This time, the burden was almost too much to bear.

Her body sagged. She crossed her arms in an attempt to remain upright.

The firefighter touched the back of her shoulder. “I could call someone for you. You need your family.”

He had no idea. She opened her mouth to reply that she had no family now, but she would be all right. He should go away and leave her alone. Leave her to think things through, to figure out where to go from here.

Baby Alex chose that instant to stir. Both adults turned their attention to the crib. Dressed in a hospital gown decorated with yellow ducks, he looked small and helpless. Murky blue-brown eyes blinked up at Cassidy. She touched his reaching hand and felt his strong grip against her fingers. Her heart turned over with love and regret.

“He doesn’t seem to have suffered any permanent effects,” she murmured, more to herself than to the fireman.

“He’s a tough one. A fighter.” The man reached inside the crib again as though he couldn’t keep his hands off the tiny survivor. Alex kicked his feet, happy with the attention. “His eyes are still red. They were streaming from the smoke when I brought him down.”

“You?” Of course, now his presence made sense. She turned slightly, caught the hint of emotion in the man’s face. This close, she could see he was about her age and was probably nice-looking beneath the grime. “You rescued Alex.”

Which meant he must have seen Janna and Brad, too. She wouldn’t ask about that.

“Handsome little dude.” His full bottom lip curved.

As if insulted, Alex’s small face puckered and he began to cry. Cassidy reached inside the crib and lifted him into her arms, thankful that he was not attached to the wires and tubes she’d feared.

He cried louder. She bounced him up and down, feeling as helpless as he did. She was his aunt, not his mother. What did she know about soothing a baby? She’d spent time with him, but Janna had always been nearby, ready to take over when the crying commenced. It had been a standard joke between her and her sister. Cassidy played with Alex. Janna did all the hard stuff.

“It’s probably breakfast time, don’t you think?” the fireman asked.

Oh dear. Breakfast. Cassidy’s stomach fell to her toes. “I don’t know what to do.”

He shot her an odd look, as if everyone knew what to do with a hungry baby. “Give him a bottle, I guess.”

Cassidy bit her bottom lip, both embarrassed and dismayed. “Janna was nursing him. He’s never had a bottle.”

In fact, Janna had never left her son with anyone, not even Cassidy, for more than a few minutes. Alex was her child of joy and promise, the beginning of the big family she and Brad had wanted. If Cassidy was honest, Janna was living the life both sisters had longed for.

“Oh. That does present a problem.” He held up one finger. “Sounds like a job for the nurse.”

He pushed the button and issued the order for formula as though he did this every day. Maybe he had kids of his own.

“Thank you. I hope Alex can deal with the change,” Cassidy said, juggling the fussy child up and down, up and down, praying the nurse would hurry with that bottle.

“It may take some time, but he will.”

He must be a dad, she thought. Nice guy, firefighter, baby expert. Not hard to look at, either. Interesting fellow. “I never did get your name.”

“Carano,” he said. “Nic Carano. Fire Station One.”

Cassidy blinked. He couldn’t be. No way. This firefighter who had rescued her nephew was Nic Carano?

Notorious Nic?

Chapter Two

“I remember you,” she said, trying to reconcile the helpful firefighter with the Notorious Nic she remembered.

He’d dated half the girls in her sorority house. All at once. Nic Carano, the fun-loving life of the party who went through girlfriends faster than frat boys through a keg of beer. She’d been very careful to be sure she wasn’t one of them.

Nic was not her kind of man. If she had a kind. Unfortunately, building her career in graphic design left her little time to date. If she did, it would not be a man like Notorious Nic, no matter how nice-looking and charming he seemed.

The door swished open and a nurse attired in blue scrubs appeared with a bottle, patted Alex’s head and disappeared again. As if she had a clue what she was doing, Cassidy tilted the baby into a cradle hold and slid the nipple into his squalling mouth. Alex shoved back, twisting his head, fighting the strange silicone.

“You look familiar to me, too.” Apparently unperturbed by Alex’s crying, Nic went on talking as he pushed a chair behind Cassidy’s knees. Gratefully, Cassidy slid onto the seat. She hadn’t realized she was still standing. “College maybe?”

Cassidy nodded. “Kappa Kappa.”

“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “My favorite sorority. You lived there?”

He asked as if he were puzzled, as if he hadn’t dated her so how could she have lived in the Kappa Kappa House.

For one thing, she’d been too focused. For another, she’d been too smart to get involved with a man who was all charm and no substance. Though loath to admit it, her social life had been limited to a few shallow, quickly fading relationships, a couple of them regrettable. The Lord had forgiven her, but she was taking no chances on making the same mistakes again. Handsome, charming, shallow men were off-limits.

Alex grew frustrated and thrashed in howling protest. Cassidy jiggled the bottle, trying to calm him. She’d had no idea feeding a hungry baby could be this difficult.

“Come on, sugar. I know it’s different, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

She tried again, sliding the nipple onto his tongue. He jerked away, pushing at her hand.

“Want me to try?” Nic held out his arms. “I’ve got a little experience.”

“You do?” Now that was a shocker.

He winked. “Trust me. I’m amazing.”

Right. Trust him. How many girls had heard that line? Trusting Nic was the last thing on her agenda. In fact, the sooner Fireman Fun and Games disappeared, the better. She had enough to deal with.

“I appreciate all you’ve done, Nic. Really.” She jiggled Alex harder. “But you must be exhausted. I can handle things from here. You look like you could sleep for a week.”

Alex screamed, a cry that would bring police, and fire and rescue in any other setting.

Fire and rescue was already here, holding out his arms, with a funny little quirk at the corner of his mouth.

If Nic comprehended her efforts to get rid of him, he didn’t show it.

“Come on. Let me try. Me and the little dude are buddies. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

The word dead lingered between them, harsh and dark. The night’s tragedy slipped back into the room. As though water flowed through her veins instead of blood, Cassidy’s arms went weak.

What was she going to do without Janna? What was Alex going to do without a mother who knew how to soothe him when he cried?

“Hey,” Nic said, his voice soft and concerned. She raised her eyes to his and he must have seen her helplessness. Without asking again, he took Alex from her.

Cassidy sat, limp and devastated, trying to think of anything except that ugly word—dead. Her head was like an echo chamber bouncing the word back a thousand times. Dead, dead, dead.

Swallowing a cry of anguish, she focused on Nic Carano, cradling her nephew against his chest as if holding a baby was the most natural thing in the world.

Did that mean Nic Carano was now married with children? That the wild and crazy jokester without a care in the world was not only a firefighter, he was a dad?

The image didn’t fit. The party boy she remembered did not have either “responsibility” or “settle down” anywhere in his vocabulary.

Right now, however, he was using his charm to convince Alex to accept the unfamiliar bottle. He pressed a dab of formula onto the infant’s lips and then stroked the corner of his mouth with the nipple. As if by some form of communication known only to the male species, Alex turned his face and latched on.

“Attaboy,” Nic murmured. His gaze flicked up to Cassidy’s. “Look at him go.”

Cassidy should have felt better. Instead, her depression deepened. If she couldn’t even feed Alex, how could she care for him? And if she didn’t, who would? She was no more parent material than Nic Carano. Nor did she possess his natural ease with people.

“How did you do that?”

Nic shrugged. A small smile gleamed white against his dirty face. “Told you,” he said easily. “Uncle Nicky’s got the touch.”

“Are you this good with your own kids?” she asked, not because she cared about his life one way or the other, but to keep from thinking about Janna and Brad.

Nic drew back in feigned alarm. “The Caranos have enough rug rats running around the place without me adding to the numbers. I’m Uncle Nicky. Not Daddy Nic.”

That sounded more like the Nic she remembered. Naturally he would love to play with the little ones, but he wouldn’t want to take on such a responsibility. The guy probably still lived at home so his mom could do his laundry.

“No matter where you learned, I appreciate your expertise. I’m kind of lost.”

Lost and more afraid than she’d been since that night in the Philippines. And almost as helpless.

Shoulders sagging, she closed her eyes. Janna’s pretty face laughed behind her eyelids.

Somehow Nic managed to hold Alex and his bottle as he leaned toward her, stirring the sickening stench of smoke. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

Cassidy nodded, numb and empty. She would never be okay again, but what could Nic Carano do about it? What could anyone do?

“I’m sorry.” He tilted his chin toward the baby. Alex gazed up at him with wide, earnest eyes, still sucking for all he was worth. “Sorry for both of you. I wish there was something more I could do.”

What good was sorry? She was sorry, too, but Janna was still gone. There were no words to describe how shattered she felt, how special Janna was or how much both she and Alex had lost last night.

Insides chilled, Cassidy drew her crossed arms tightly against her body as if to ward off reality. She longed to go to sleep, wake up tomorrow and discover this had all been a bad dream.

“Where do you go from here?” Nic asked gently. “I mean, who’s going to care for the little dude?”

The “little dude” had finished off his bottle. As if handling a baby was second nature, Nic set the bottle on the floor, lifted Alex to his shoulder and patted his back. Alex made gurgling, satisfied noises, oblivious to the drastic change in his life.

“I don’t know what we’ll do.” She didn’t want to think about the future. She could barely deal with the here and now. “Brad had no siblings and there was only Janna and me in our family.” She thought about Brad’s parents. They might be willing to raise Alex.

“My sister’s a social worker. She might be able to help.”

The idea of a social worker frightened Cassidy.

“No,” she said a little too sharply. “No social services.”

She trembled to think of her nephew growing up lonely and unloved the way she and Janna had. Alex deserved a loving home and family, not a parade of foster homes. She would choose. She would make the decision. Somehow.

“Forget I brought it up. Today is way too soon to think about that.”

“I never dreamed this would happen to Janna,” she murmured.

“No one ever expects a tragedy of this magnitude. Not even us firefighters. These things happen to other people. Not to us. Or so we think.”

Almost to herself, Cassidy said, “I don’t understand why God would let this happen.”

Again, she thought. Twice in her life she’d lost those closest to her. It wasn’t fair. She’d always considered God to be a good and loving God, the Father she’d lost as a child. Now she was left floundering to understand. Had she failed in some way? Was she being punished?

“You got me there,” Nic said. He tapped Alex on the nose and waited for the toothless smile before settling him on his lap to face Cassidy. Alex made a goo-goo sound, waving his arms in poignant happiness as he recognized her. “My mom would say all things work to the good for those who love God, but I have to admit I don’t get the whole God thing.”

Cassidy, too, was having a hard time believing that anything good could come from the death of two young, caring, godly people and the orphaning of their son.

“So you aren’t a believer?”

His smile was crooked. “Oh, yeah, I believe.”

Cassidy heard the unspoken “but” at the end of his proclamation, though she didn’t understand it.

From her missionary parents, she’d learned to love, revere and serve God all the days of her life. Regardless of her questions, God was the only answer. He was her anchor, her only hope. Though she couldn’t begin to understand, she had to believe God was with her. The alternative was hopelessness. How could anyone face an uncertain future without His strength and courage to sustain them?

She was about to ask Nic that very question, when he crinkled his nose. “Uh-oh. Change time.” Averting his head, he pushed the baby in her direction. “Uncle Nic does not do diapers.”

His lighthearted comment was a welcome diversion. She smiled in spite of herself.

“Firemen are supposed to be brave.”

He made a face. “Brave is relative. Give me a nasty, dirty fire any day, but not a nasty, dirty diaper.”

A nasty, dirty fire. Nic’s words brought back the pain, as sharp and plunging as an ice pick. She wished he would go away. He was a walking, talking reminder of death.

She’d had enough of death to last a lifetime.

Holding Alex, she abruptly stood, turning her back on the gear-clad firefighter. “Thanks for all you’ve done, Nic. I’ll take it from here.”

Her words were a stiff dismissal he couldn’t possibly miss this time.

A moment of silence stretched behind her. She didn’t turn around. If she did, she would apologize, and he would stay longer. He had to go and take his ghoulish job with him.

“If you need anything—”

Why did he have to be nice? “I won’t. Bye, Nic.”

She was giving him the brush-off?

Nic shifted on his feet, his boots heavy, his body weary. He wanted to be ticked, but he tamped down the reaction. Cassidy Willis was living a nightmare he couldn’t begin to comprehend. She looked so shattered that for a minute or two there, he’d been tempted to take her in his arms and comfort her. With most women, he would have done exactly that, but the classy-looking blonde exuded a cool aloofness that kept him at bay. For some reason, she wanted him to leave, but he couldn’t do that, either. Not yet anyway.

Normally, he didn’t get involved with fire victims, but last night the baby boy had gotten to him in a big way. As he’d waited in the emergency room, the child had clung to him, calm only as long as Nic was present and touching him. The little dude seemed to intuitively understand that his parents were gone and that Nic had saved his life.

Then when the aunt had stumbled into the room, the soft heart that sometimes got Nic into trouble had done a weird flip-flop, like a banked bass. Compassion, he supposed, but he was intrigued, too, though he had to admit, all women intrigued him. Ladies were a gift from God. Might as well enjoy them. But Cassidy Willis was different from his usual lady friends. Perhaps not in looks—she did have those—but in demeanor.

He’d known she was the aunt right away. She resembled the woman in the Scooby Doo pajamas he’d carried out of the burning house. Only where Alex’s mother had been dark-blond, Cassidy’s hair was sleek platinum, the kind that required considerable maintenance. Pampered sorority girl hair that went perfectly with her fancy acrylic nails.

She also had the kind of blue eyes men dream about, as vivid as his mama’s pansies. At the moment they were filled with anguish.

She must have been heading out for a jog when the news arrived because she wore a running outfit. From the looks of her slim form and pro athletic shoes, Cassidy Willis was a serious runner.

Too bad she couldn’t run away from the situation. Her world had turned upside down and she was coping pretty well, he thought. Well enough to want him to leave.

He was kind of offended at that. Most women wanted him to hang around. This one wanted him to leave.

In any other situation, he’d consider that a challenge.

Maybe he did anyway.

Her back still turned as if he wasn’t in the room, Cassidy reached beneath the crib, found a box of baby wipes and a clean diaper. He should go. He needed to go. Hanging out in hospitals with orphaned babies and bereaved women wasn’t his idea of a party.

Still, he felt this obligation to do something for her and the little dude.

Cassidy’s polished beauty was right up his alley, but her looks were the farthest thing from his mind. He wasn’t after a date. He had a couple of those already. He was after—Nic didn’t know for sure what he was after.

For reasons he could not explain, he couldn’t walk away and forget this pair. He should. He wanted to. But something irrevocable had happened last night and he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do something for them. Besides, his big, pushy family would have his head if he didn’t look after a damsel in distress.

Maybe that was the problem. Family expectations, as usual, were his undoing.

“Hang on,” he said, though she clearly wasn’t leaving and had effectively shut him out. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogged out of the room, only to reappear in seconds bearing a pen and notepad. The nice nurse at the desk had been all smiles and obliging. He grinned and patted his chest with the flat of one hand. Must be the uniform.

He scribbled on the sheet, ripped off the page and handed it to Cassidy.

“Here you go,” he said. “That’s my cell and my house. Call if I can do anything.”

The way Cassidy stared at his broad scrawl made Nic wish he’d taken more interest in penmanship.

“Thanks.” She pocketed the piece of paper without enthusiasm.

“I’m serious,” Nic said, backing toward the door. “Call. I have a whole army of family who’d be glad to help.”

She nodded but returned her attention to the baby.

It wasn’t the reaction Nic was hoping for, but he’d done his duty. His conscience could rest. He needn’t give Cassidy Willis another thought.

Maybe.

Chapter Three

Nic met the angular, suit-clad woman in the hallway coming in as he was leaving. When she stopped at the nurse’s desk and asked for Alexander Brown’s room, Nic knew she must be the grandmother Cassidy had spoken of. A sense of release settled over him. Cassidy and the baby needed this woman’s company.

Coming from a very large family, he couldn’t imagine having so few relatives. In fact, he’d tried to imagine it a few times but with the Carano bunch, he never had a moment’s peace. They were in his business more than he was. At times he resented them for that, but situations such as this one made him appreciate the circle of love.

Which did not mean he wasn’t going to move out on his own as soon as he found an apartment. No matter how his parents argued that it was not necessary. No matter how economical the arrangement might be, no matter how expensive apartment rentals were, Nic needed his own space. Space to study for another go at medical school exams. Space to be away from the prying eyes and pressure of second-generation Americans who expected him to be something more than what he was. Much as he loved them, a big family could be trying.

With a quirk of his lips, Nic admitted to himself that he would, however, miss his mama’s cooking.

He was pushing the elevator button when he heard the older woman ask in a high and nasal voice, “Has anyone telephoned child welfare? That baby will need to be adopted out.”

He pivoted for a better look at Cassidy’s grandmother. The woman looked as though she had swallowed a glass of vinegar and was sorely annoyed to be in this place. Not grieved, annoyed.

Maybe he’d been wrong about Cassidy needing her family.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, thinking, fighting the temptation and losing so fast his head spun. He needed to head home, clean up, catch some Zs. He and Lacey and Sherry Lynn were on for a Redhawks game tonight. This was none of his business. Cassidy didn’t even want him here. She’d practically tossed him out on his ear.

But baby Alex had wanted him, and the little dude was the one in jeopardy.

Besides, as Nic and his firefighter buddies always said, he could sleep when he was dead.

With a tired sigh, he headed back down the hall to the baby’s room, knowing he was about to stick his nose where it did not belong. Mama would say he was going to get it cut off one of these days.

The thought put a spring in his step.

The never knowing when was part of life’s adventure.

With the flat of his hand, Nic pushed open the door to room twelve-fifteen and followed the vinegar woman inside.

Cassidy turned from the crib in surprise. Her gaze slid past her grandmother to him. “Nic. I thought you’d left.”

“I did.”

She patted Alex’s back and covered him with a blanket. “Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.”

She glanced around the small room. “What is it?”

He ignored the question. “Is this your grandmother?” And did you know she wants to put Alex up for adoption?

Vinegar lady slid a critical glance over his dirty face and uniform. Her nostrils twitched in distaste. “A fireman, I presume?”

His mama would throttle him if he was rude to his elders. Vinegar lady didn’t know how lucky she was. “Yes, ma’am. Nic Carano. I’m a friend of Cassidy’s.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened at the word friend, but she didn’t deny him. “Nic, this is my grandmother, Eleanor Bassett. Grandmother, Nic rescued Alex from the…house.”

Again, Mrs. Bassett settled narrowed blue eyes on him. The blue eyes were about the only thing she had in common with her granddaughter.

“Thank you, Mr. Carano.” The gratitude seemed to pain her.

“Nic,” he said. Poor Cassidy, if this was her comforting family, she was in a world of hurt. The woman hadn’t so much as hugged her.

“I suppose the Browns have been notified.” Mrs. Bassett perched her narrow backside on the edge of a chair and folded her hands atop an expensive-looking handbag. Dressed in a business suit the color of zucchini, she appeared ready to conduct a board meeting. Or, Nic thought with a hidden grin, be chopped into a salad. Add a dab of oil to the vinegar and voilà, lunch.

“Yes, Grandmother.” Cassidy’s face, so pale before, was now blotchy red. “They’ve been notified.”

If he was a guessing man, he’d say vinegar lady made her granddaughter both anxious and unhappy.

She was starting to do the same to him. Nic Carano did not like to feel either of those emotions. The woman needed an injection of fun. Or cyanide. The bit of internal sarcasm tickled him. He would laugh later.

Mrs. Bassett checked her watch. “They should be arriving soon. If I can drive from Dallas, they should be able to get here from Joplin in equal time.”

“They’ve lost their only son, Grandmother.”

“Yes. A shame, too. Bradley was a good boy. That wind is awful today. My hair’s a mess. I’ll have to call Philippe for a recomb.” She patted the brown fluff around her face. “There are so many details to take care of. I hope they arrive soon. I have a dinner party tonight. We need to get the problems ironed out today.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to miss a dinner party on the day of your granddaughter’s death.” Cassidy’s words were quietly spoken, but the resentment was clear. So were the red splotches covering her cheeks and neck.

What had he walked into? And why didn’t he hit the road before the war broke out?

One look at Cassidy, standing sentry beside Alex’s crib, hands white-knuckled against the railing, gave him his answer. She was fighting to hold herself together, as much for her sister’s baby as for herself. Aunt Cassidy needed his support, whether she wanted it or not. Baby Alex needed him even more.

“Don’t be sarcastic, Cassidy. It isn’t ladylike.” Vinegar lady opened her purse and removed a card. “This is my attorney. He can help work out the details.”

Nic crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, glad to have some plaster to hold up his fatigued body. Cassidy glanced his way as if just remembering he was there. Something flickered behind those baby blues. He gave her a wink of encouragement. She glared back, clearly not wanting him to stay. Call it macho, call it stubborn, but the notion made him even more determined to stick around.

“I don’t know what you mean, Grandmother.” Cassidy took the card, studied the face, turned it over and then back again. “Why do we need a lawyer?”

“Issues of estate. The problem of Alexander.”

Cassidy’s hackles rose. She stood up straighter. “Alex is not a problem.”

“You know what I mean, dear. He’ll need new parents, although the Browns may have some notion of taking him on.”

Taking him on. That’s the way Grandmother had thought of her and Janna, as unpleasant responsibilities she had incurred. The notion would have hurt if Cassidy hadn’t always known.

“No,” Cassidy said with surprising firmness. “Not strangers.”

“Be reasonable, Cassidy. The child is still young enough to be acceptable to adopters.”

“I don’t want someone to take him because he’s acceptable. I want him to be loved.”

Grandmother huffed; her mouth puckered tighter. “I was afraid you’d be like this. You and Janna could be so stubborn at times, binding together in your fits of determination.”

Trembling with fatigue and emotion, Cassidy pressed a hand to her forehead. A dozen issues she’d never considered or discussed with Janna filtered through her head. The only thing she knew for certain was that she, not Grandmother, needed to make this decision. She prayed she was strong enough to stand against the powerhouse woman whose iron hand ran a company with several hundred employees.

Nic, whom she’d almost forgotten, surprised her by pushing off the wall and coming to stand beside her. He brought the nauseating scent of smoke with him. Why had he come back when she’d been more than clear that she neither needed nor wanted his interference?

He took one of her hands. She knew she should yank it away, but she was too weak and empty to fight both Nic and her grandmother. When the firefighter gave her fingers a squeeze, she realized how cold she’d become since Grandmother’s arrival. How sad that a virtual stranger—even one she didn’t particularly like—could provide more comfort than her own flesh and blood.

Considering that painful fact, maybe Grandmother was right. Perhaps adoption was the answer.

She pulled her hand away, knotting it with the other in front of her. Nic’s eyes bore into the side of her face, but she kept her gaze trained on Alex.

Dear Lord, help. My mind is so scattered right now.

As though someone had asked for his input, Nic said, “You need some time to think. Nothing should be decided today when you’re still in shock.”

Grasping that tiny bit of good sense, Cassidy nodded. He was right. She was running on fumes and emotion. How could she make an intelligent decision about Alex’s future in this condition?

Grandmother did not agree. “The sooner you settle things, the better. You have a busy career and Alexander has nowhere to go. I am simply not up to taking on another child.”

“Grandmother, please,” she interrupted before Eleanor could begin her diatribe on the supreme sacrifice she’d made when Cassidy’s parents died. Cassidy was determined that Alex would never feel the sting of believing he was an intruder living in someone else’s home. She wanted better for her nephew and with God’s help, she would figure out something.

Eleanor had opened her mouth to say more when Beverly and Thomas Brown entered the room. Both of them looked completely shattered. Cassidy rushed to greet them.

“I am so sorry,” she said to Brad’s mother. “I don’t know what else to say.”

The matronly woman fell against her with a sob. “I can’t believe this. I kept hoping we would get here and discover some kind of ghastly mistake had been made.”

Hadn’t she prayed for the same thing?

Thomas, a portly man, stood by looking helpless, his jowls droopy with sorrow. “How could this have happened?”

“I don’t know,” Cassidy said honestly. “I suppose the fire marshal will investigate.”

She glanced at Nic, amazed that he hadn’t left. He nodded and extended a hand to Thomas. “Nic Carano. I was at the scene last night.”

“Did you see them?” Beverly, eyes puffy and red, pulled away from Cassidy to face the fireman. Her short brown hair, shot with gray, was in disarray as if she’d run her hands through it over and over again in her distress. “My son and his wife?”

“Yes, ma’am. I brought them out.”

“Are they certain of the identities?”

The heartbroken mother was grasping at straws, hoping for a miracle that would not come. Cassidy’s stomach rolled, sick with grief.

“I don’t know about that, ma’am, but I can assure you they died peacefully and easily in their sleep. Smoke inhalation. No pain. No suffering. No fear.”

Thomas clapped a huge paw onto Nic’s shoulder, mouth downcast, as he drew in a shuddering breath and then nodded once. “Thank you for that. It helps.”

The atmosphere ached with sorrow.

“Yes, sir.”

“Nic rescued Alex, too,” Cassidy said, glad for the first time that Nic had returned to the room. His professional ease and knowledge of the situation seemed to be exactly what the devastated Browns needed.

“Thank you, Nic,” Beverly said and hugged him. The firefighter embraced her as if he’d known her forever. No surprise there. Nic Carano was comfortable with people, especially women.

Cassidy’s grandmother had kept her peace for about as long as she could. “We need to plan services, I suppose.”

The other four turned to look at her. Perched on the chair like a queen on her throne, Eleanor would run the show or die trying.

Somehow Cassidy stumbled through the visit to the funeral home, the preparations for the services and the double funeral four days later. In the midst of making all sorts of arrangements and decisions she hadn’t realized were necessary, she’d warded off Grandmother’s attempts to “deal with the issue” of Alex until after the funeral.

She and the Browns had taken turns sitting with the baby at the hospital where they’d discussed the painfully few options for her nephew, but none of them were emotionally ready to make a permanent decision.

To Cassidy’s discomfort, Nic Carano had returned every day as well, sending the baby into an excited display of arm and leg pumps and slobbery smiles. Cassidy, on the other hand, suffered a pain the size of Dallas. Every time she saw him, she had an unbidden vision of the yellow-clad fireman carrying Janna from the house, limp and dead. He was too much of a reminder of that night, of her sister’s last hours and moments.

Out of uniform, he looked different, more like the wild and crazy Nic in funny T-shirts she remembered. She couldn’t understand why he kept coming around. Surely not to see her. Having had her fill of womanizing playboys, she’d let him know from the start that she was not interested.

Alex was the only explanation. Through the shared tragedy, Nic had bonded with the child. That’s all it could be.

Until today, the doctors had kept her nephew in the hospital for observation and respiratory therapy. Two hours ago, he’d been discharged into Cassidy’s care—temporarily.

Now on this pleasant April afternoon, she sat on the off-white sofa in her tidy living room with Alex asleep in her lap, feeling as if she were a house of cards, ready to tumble at the slightest breeze. The grandparents were on their way to make the decision.

“Oh, baby boy,” she whispered to his peaceful, innocent face. “What is going to become of you?”

Earlier, her pastor had stopped by with a word of counsel and a prayer for comfort and guidance as she made important decisions in the days ahead. He’d prayed for Alex, too, that God’s will and perfect plan would unfold. To her way of thinking, God’s perfect plan should have been Janna and Brad raising their son together. Yet, she’d found relief in Pastor John’s prayers. Since the accident, praying had been difficult.

Heart as heavy as it had ever been in her life, Cassidy dreaded the family meeting that would decide Alex’s fate.

A bitter laugh escaped her throat.

“Family,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “Some family you have, baby.”

Beverly and Thomas Brown were fine people, but Beverly’s heart wasn’t strong. She’d had two bypass surgeries already. They couldn’t raise an infant and had admitted as much, though they loved Alex with all the grandparent love in the world. Eleanor, thank goodness, had never even considered “taking him on.” Had she wanted Alex, a moving freight train could not have stopped her.

Grandmother wasn’t a bad person, just a focused, determined businesswoman who’d never forgiven her only daughter for marrying a penniless missionary and then dying in a “heathen” land. Janna and Cassidy had borne the brunt of her unforgiveness.

With a shudder, Cassidy made up her mind that her nephew would never live that way. She wanted him to have love and family and warmth and support. A dear cousin in Baton Rouge was interested in adopting Alex, but Louisiana seemed so far away. Cassidy wanted him nearby, close enough that she could be part of his life.

If only she were married or had a less demanding job. If only she possessed the natural mothering instincts of her sister. If only her future weren’t laid out before her like a tidy road to the top of her game.

But it was. Regardless of the crazy thoughts going through her mind every time she looked into Alex’s face, she had no business raising a child.

“Lord,” she whispered, smoothing her fingers over Alex’s velvety forehead. “Show me what to do. Make Your plan clear. I’m dreadfully confused.”

Grandmother had declared today the final day she would “worry” about this situation, because she had business to attend to. Though Cassidy had urged Eleanor to return to Dallas and let her and the Browns decide, Grandmother wouldn’t hear of leaving until the issue was settled.

“I take familial duty very seriously,” she’d insisted with an insulted sniff. Behind her back, Cassidy had rolled her eyes.

Someone pounded on the door. Cassidy jumped. Baby Alex jerked and threw his arms out to the side but didn’t wake.

“They’re here, lamb,” she told him, stomach churning to know that after today, she would be separated from this baby she’d loved since before his birth.

Having no crib, and worried he would roll off the sofa, Cassidy placed Alex on a blanket on the floor, and then went to the door expecting to find the Browns or her grandmother waiting.

Instead, the handsome face of Nic Carano grinned down at her. In a snug black T-shirt imprinted with “Slackers give 100%, just not all at once,” he looked firefighter fit and beach tanned.

Cassidy’s stomach fluttered in a troubling and inappropriate response.

“Hey,” he said, slouching against her door.

Charm absolutely oozed from the man.

“Nic?” Her voice was cool to the point of frost. Maybe he’d get the idea. “What are you doing?” And why won’t you go away?

“Went by the hospital to see the little dude and they said he’d escaped with a beautiful blonde.”

She refused to fall for the compliment. It rolled from his silver tongue far too easily. “I brought him home this morning.”

“I called the sibs.” With a jerk of his thumb, he indicated an oncoming barrage of humanity. “Told them a friend needed some baby stuff and here they are.”

A parade of people she didn’t know had piled out of cars and were trailing up the sidewalk like smiling, supply-laden ants. Each carried something that related to an infant.

Cassidy was dumbfounded. “They’re bringing those things for Alex?”

Oh dear. What did she do now?

The dimple in Nic’s chin widened. “Unless you wear Huggies and onesies and play with bathtub toys.” He shook his head, one hand up to wave off the remark. “Scratch the last comment. Everyone needs a rubber ducky.”

Against her own better judgment, Cassidy laughed. “Nic, you’re a nut.”

With a cocky grin, he turned and hollered down the stairwell. “Come on up, folks. She’s laughing. I don’t think she’ll shoot.”

While Cassidy wrestled with the wisdom of letting Notorious Nic into her house, a ribbon of chattering, jostling Caranos, all toting various baby items, trudged up the steps and into her space. Nic stood in the doorway like an affable traffic cop, rattling off introductions as three men and three women passed through. Even with six, Nic declared that some of the family had to work today.

“These are only the goof-offs,” he said with affection.

Cassidy, confused, touched and annoyed in equal amounts, could only watch in stunned amazement. How many Caranos could there be? Where did they get all this stuff? Why would they give it to her?

A man Nic introduced as his father, Leo, paused in the living room to ask, “Where do you want us to put everything?”

With his blue-collar physique and thin ring of hair around a shiny bald head, Leo Carano would have been perfect in a sitcom set in a pizza parlor.

“Anywhere,” she said, and then, discombobulated, changed her mind. “No, wait. The guest bedroom.”

What was she doing? Alex wasn’t here to stay. The furniture would only have to be moved again.

Before she could tell them as much, a beautiful, full-figured woman reminiscent of Sophia Loren stopped with a box of baby clothes in her arms.

“I’m Rosalie,” she said, hitching her chin toward Nic. “This rascal is my baby boy.”

No wonder Nic was so handsome.

“Now, Mom,” Nic said with considerable humor. “Don’t start telling stories.”

Rosalie cocked an eyebrow at him. “Then stop lazing in the door and go help your brothers. Cassidy won’t remember who was who anyway. Later, we’ll get acquainted. Anna’s bringing pizza.”

Pizza? Somehow she had to stop the madness and tell these people that she could not accept their generosity. Alex was not here to stay.

A painful knot formed in her throat.

“Nic,” she started.

“Gotta go,” he said, cutting her off.

With a parting wink, he saluted his mother before bounding down the steps. On the way, he shouted general insults at his brothers. They shouted back, all in good fun.

Cassidy watched in fascination at the family dynamics. Teasing, working together, the bond of love between them was practically visible. Her heart ached with the knowledge that this was the kind of life Janna and Brad had been building for Alex. Now what would he have? Where would he go?

Rosalie returned from the bedroom, empty-handed. “I think my Nicky likes you.”

Liked her? No way. “He likes the baby, I think. He rescued him from the fire and they seem to have formed a bond.”

It was the only explanation she could think of, the only acceptable one.

“Precious angel from God.” Rosalie looked over at Alex who didn’t seem to mind that an army of Caranos were tromping all around him. “You’ll be a fine mother for him, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I can’t keep him. That’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

The woman was taken aback. “I’m sorry. I thought Nic said you were the aunt, the only sister of the baby’s mother.”

“I am. It’s just that…”

Rosalie tilted her kind face to listen. Cassidy stumbled through her litany of reasons.

“I’ve already missed four work days. I can’t keep a baby. I’m single. I don’t know anything about babies. My job is demanding. I’m working my way up to creative director. That’s even more demanding. Alex deserves…” Realizing she was babbling, Cassidy clamped her lips together.

Rosalie patted her arm. “It’s all right, Cassidy. Alex deserves love. Everything else is negotiable.”

Cassidy opened her mouth to say more but nothing came out.

“You’ll do the right thing. God will guide you.”

She hoped she could count on that.

“But what about all these lovely things? I can’t keep them.”

The woman waved her off. “As long as you need them. We know where they are.” Then Rosalie stuck her head out the door and called down the stairs. “Come on, boys. This baby does not need to sleep on a floor with all of you tromping around like Bigfoot. Bring that up here.”

Two men who looked remarkably like Nic pulled a baby crib from the back of a pickup.

Cassidy felt a moment of panic. This was getting out of control. Did she need a crib?

One of Nic’s dark-haired sisters, Mia, if she remembered correctly, asked, “The baby is awake. Do you mind if I pick him up?”

“No. Please. I—” Cassidy blinked, as confused as a minnow in a whirlpool.

Her heart continued to race as load after load of baby paraphernalia, much of which she could not identify, found its way into her apartment. By the time the pickup and two cars were unloaded, the guest room was crammed with baby items.

With relentless cheer, the Caranos went to work organizing and setting up. The men clanged away at the crib, arguing over the direction of the springs and screws. The ladies folded sweet-smelling clothes and placed them inside a small chest.

The Caranos were like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their power. Cassidy gave up the battle. She’d deal with this later.

“What is this thing?” Nic asked, holding up a device with a dangling electric cord.

“Baby wipe warmer.” Mia’s full lips curved in amusement at her clueless brother. “Now that my little one is out of diapers I don’t need it or most of this other stuff. Thank goodness.”

“Sweet,” Nic answered and found a place for the warmer on the baby changer. “Right here okay, Cass?”

No one called her Cass.

“Perfect,” she muttered, helpless to say otherwise.

Nic efficiently filled the machine from a package of wipes, plugged it in and then wove his way through the maze of working Caranos and baby stuff to her side.

Smelling like baby wipes, a fact that made Cassidy want to giggle, the macho fireman plopped down on the floor and tilted a roll of Life Savers toward her.

She was on her knees next to Rosalie sorting onesies by size.

“Overwhelmed yet?”

She dug a cherry candy from the wrapper. “A little.”

“Want us to disappear?”

What could she say? To tell the truth would be both unkind and lacking in gratitude. Suspecting she would live to regret the decision, she said, “Stay.”

“Sure?” He popped a lemon Life Saver into his mouth.

Trying not to remember who he was or his role in her sister’s death, Cassidy controlled the urge to send him away. She slid the candy onto her tongue and sucked at the sweetness.

During the hour since the Caranos had swept into her life with their friendly laughter and kindhearted intentions, she’d pushed aside the terrible circumstances that brought them here. For this little while she’d witnessed the inner workings of a real family, the kind she and Janna had dreamed of. For the first time since Janna’s death, she’d felt almost human. That’s why she’d let them stay. She’d needed to feel normal again.

Now the sorrow came back in a rush.

Nic was silent beside her as though he guessed her thoughts. Guilty, troubled, hurting, she folded and refolded the onesie, never taking her eyes off the tiny garment.

I’m a mess. She, a woman who had long known what she wanted and where she was going, now floundered like a baby bird fallen from the nest.

The intrusion of a single, high-pitched, nasal voice jolted Cassidy from her brooding.

“What is all this?” Eleanor Bassett stomped into their midst, the heels of her alligator pumps thudding ominously on the beige carpet. Beverly and Thomas Brown peeked in behind her. Ignoring them, Grandmother swept one arm imperiously around the bedroom filled with boxes, diapers, bottles, a changing station, a crib and a lot of people.

Nic leaned into Cassidy’s ear and whispered, “Cruella de Vil. Hide the puppies.”

Squelching a gust of sudden and surprising laughter, Cassidy pushed at his shoulder and stood. He came up with her, eyes dancing above an expression as innocent as a rose. He’d probably gotten away with a lot of things because of that face.

“Grandmother, come in. I’d like you to meet the Carano family.” She’d almost added “friends of mine” and yet she hardly knew them. This amazing group that had baffled her with their display of generosity to a bereaved aunt and an orphaned baby were basically strangers.

Introductions were made and Grandmother perched on the rocker, ready to take over. The Caranos, while polite, didn’t seem all that impressed.

“Cassidy, we’ve come to discuss the situation. Although I see no reason whatsoever for you to have purchased all this frippery, shall we adjourn to the living room and leave these people to their work?”

The Caranos exchanged amused glances, aware they had been relegated to the position of hired help.

“Grandmother, the Caranos are friends.” There. She’d said it. “They donated these items for Alex.”

“Oh. Well.” Eleanor tilted her nose down a notch. “Unnecessary given the situation, but thank you. How generous. Now, Cassidy, as I was saying, let’s adjourn to the living room. I need to get back to Dallas tonight. The Forkner merger is set for tomorrow and I have tons of paperwork to prepare.”

Cassidy looked from the woman who’d birthed her mother to Nic’s sister who held Alex. The blue-clad baby reached chubby arms toward his aunt. Cassidy’s heart swelled with an undeniable emotion—love. Her knees started to shake. Could she do this? Could she let Grandmother ship him off to virtual strangers? Could her heart let him go?

The answer came loud and clear. No. She could not.

Lord, help me. She was about to jump off a building without a safety net.

“Grandmother. Mr. and Mrs. Brown.” She sucked in a steadying lungful of Nic-scented air and let it out slowly. This was the right thing. The only thing. “I want to keep Alex.”

Nic squeezed her elbow.

Buoyed by that simple gesture and the growing confidence that no one else could love Alex the way she would, Cassidy took her nephew from a gently smiling Mia and kissed the top of his head. His warm baby smell filled her senses and settled in her heart.

“That’s ridiculous, Cassidy. You have no business with a child. You have a busy, growing career.”

That was one of the dozen problems she hadn’t figured out—yet.

“Something will work out.”

“Well now, if that isn’t a well-considered plan.” Grandmother’s nostrils flared in sarcasm. “You’re single, Cassidy. You cannot raise a child and that is all there is to it.”

The Caranos had grown quiet, eyes averted as they busied themselves with work, trying not to listen. All but Nic who stood at her side like some kind of warrior, which was ridiculous given that this was Notorious Nic. Despite his job, Nic wasn’t a fighter. He was a player.

Still, his solid presence was oddly strengthening. She, who had rarely won a battle with Eleanor Bassett, quelled the trembling in her bones.

“I promised Janna and Brad.”

“Promised them what?” Grandmother’s mouth puckered. Vertical lines, like spokes in a wheel, circled her lips. “To give up your own life?”

Cassidy’s chin rose a notch. She could feel the red blotches creeping up her neck. She hoped Grandmother didn’t take them as a sign of weakness. She was anxious, not weak.

“I promised to take care of Alex if anything should ever happen to them.” With the stress and confusion of the past few days, she’d forgotten the conversation and the piece of computer-printed paper until this moment.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Eleanor waved at the air in dismissal. “No one would hold you to some silly, sentimental promise.”

“I would. I believe God would, too. Janna and I knew from experience that the worst could happen. She loved Alex so much, she wanted to be certain he would never—” She stopped before she could say too much. Her grandmother had tried. Hurting her now had no value. “We even put her wishes in writing with the nurses as witnesses. I have the paper in my safe-deposit box, if anyone wants to see it.”

The day after Alexander Bradley Brown was born, Brad and Janna had handed her a document asking her to act as legal guardian if anything should ever happen to them. She’d wanted to laugh it off, but she and Janna knew that life didn’t always play fair.

“We think it’s a wonderful solution, Cassidy,” Beverly Brown said, coming close enough to stroke Alex’s hair. Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “This is what we’ve prayed for, though we didn’t want to pressure you. You’re young and healthy, and you love this baby.”

“You’ll always be his grandparents,” she said, aching for Beverly’s loss. “He’ll need you in his life.”

“Thank you, honey,” Beverly whispered. “We want that very much.”

Without a word, she slid Alex into his grandmother’s arms and watched her cradle the infant tenderly. Tears shimmied loose and slid silently down the woman’s ruddy cheeks.

Grandmother Bassett, however, was determined to have her way. “You’re running on emotion, Cassidy Luanne. This can’t last. Then later, you will be sorry you made such a drastic mistake.”

With a sharp pang, Cassidy realized Grandmother spoke from experience. She considered taking Janna and Cassidy into her home a “drastic mistake.” That final, cruel comment gave Cassidy the last bit of courage she needed.

“Loving Alex could never, ever be a mistake.”

Regardless of her single status, regardless of the demanding career, regardless of her goal to be a premiere graphic designer, and though she knew nothing at all about raising a baby, Cassidy Willis would find a way to give her sister’s son the loving home he deserved.

Chapter Four

Nic tossed down the remote, skirted the semicircle of recliners pointed at a television set and headed into the kitchen area of Station One to dish up the lasagna. Four tough, manly firefighters followed like puppies. Tonight was his night to cook at the fire station, and thanks to his mother’s recipes, Nic’s cooking was favored by the other men.

“Not as good as your mama’s,” Captain Summers teased, his mustached mouth so full his words were mush. “Passable.”

Above high cheekbones, Sam Ridge’s brown eyes glittered with amusement, but he said nothing. Such was Sam’s way. If he strung twenty words together during a twenty-four-hour shift, everyone sat up and listened. Nic always figured he and Ridge got on so well because Nic liked to talk and Sam liked to listen. Pretty sweet deal.

The Kiowa took an extra slice of buttered garlic bread, lifted it toward Nic in appreciation and returned to his chair to eat and watch reruns of MASH. If they were lucky, no calls would come in before they’d finished their meal.

During Nic’s rookie year, Mama had appeared at the fire station to supervise the kitchen on his night to cook. Now that Nic had the recipes down, Mama still came around on occasion with pastries or breads from the family bakery. The other men lived for the times Rosalie Carano swept into the station to see “her boys,” as she called all of them.

Lately Nic wished Mama wouldn’t come around so often. Though he laughed at the good-natured teasing, the mama’s boy comments were growing thin.

Nic dished up a healthy dose of steaming, cheesy casserole, his belly whimpering in anticipation. Other than a few medical calls, a couple of motor vehicle accidents and a grass fire, today’s shift had been slow, both a blessing and a pain. Nic liked to be busy. Taking care of the station, the engines and the equipment was part of the job as was ongoing training, but he liked the adrenaline rush of a callout.

From the corner of his eye, Nic caught movement at the outside door. A luscious brunette, long hair blowing in the fierce Oklahoma wind, swept into the station. Behind her came a short, perky redhead.

Ah, well, he thought with a grin, there are other types of adrenaline rushes.

“Mandy! Rachel!” Nic said. “What’s going on?”

One of the cool perks of being a firefighter was that citizens could drop by any time. Even gorgeous girl citizens who only came in to flirt.

He could deal with that.

Rachel, the leggy brunette, swept her hair back with one hand. “Came by to see you, what else?”

From the circle of recliners came the usual hum of interest. Sam and the other firefighter, “Slim Jim” Wagner, momentarily lost interest in Nic’s lasagna.

Mandy, the perky redhead, opened a tiny purse and extracted a brochure. “We’re getting up a group to go to the beach. Are you game?”

Trips to anywhere entertaining were right up his alley. After a long, windy and cold winter, some fun in the sun sounded pretty sweet. “When?”

“This weekend.” She waved a photo of blue water lapping at sunny, white-sand beaches. “Three days at a friend’s condo right on the beach in Galveston.”

This weekend. He’d planned to drop by and check on Cassidy and Alex this weekend. Not that Cassidy was all that hot to see him. Fact of the business, he’d called her a couple of times since she’d made the decision to become Alex’s permanent guardian, but she never answered the phone.

Weird.

He hoped she didn’t have caller ID. The implications of that would be ego-crushing.

She’d sent cards to him, his parents and siblings expressing gratitude for their help. Nic would have preferred a phone call. One of those gushy-breathed, “Oh, Nicky, thank you so much for being there for me and baby Alex.” But what did he get? A formal card with all the warmth of January.

He must be losing his edge.

He thought she liked him okay, but he also felt a kind of pushing away, as though she was too polite to say so, but she didn’t want him around.

A terrific, fun-loving guy like him, he thought with humor. What wasn’t to like?

Rachel’s voice intruded on his aberrant thoughts. “So are you going with us, Nic?”

What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. A trip somewhere. “If I’m not on duty.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Nic, it’s this weekend. Remember? I have your schedule. I know when your four-days are. None of us want to go without you.”

Ah, sweet. His ego was feeling better by the minute. Why was he letting a cool blonde and a toothless baby mess with his head?

Nic clapped his hands together. “Sounds good. You make the plans. I’ll make the party.”

Both girls laughed. Rachel tossed her hair over one shoulder. Nice hair. Nice girls. Fun times.

“You ladies up for a plate of my lasagna?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.