# Emergency: Parents Needed

Jessica Matthews

## Emergency: Parents Needed. Jessica Matthews


www.millsandboon.co.uk

## Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Praise

About The Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

Praise for Jessica Matthews:

‘THE BABY DOCTOR’S BRIDE, by award-winning author Jessica Matthews, offers a fresh storyline with compelling characters. The loyalty and dedication of medical staff are highlighted, as well as their very human side. Dealing with life and death can dramatically affect the lives of doctors. Ms Matthews handles this facet of their life extremely well, as well as treating her readers to a touching romance.’

—Cataromance

Jessica Matthews’s interest in medicine began at a young age, and she nourished it with medical stories and hospital-based television programmes. After a stint as a teenage candy-striper, she pursued a career as a clinical laboratory scientist. When not writing or on duty she fills her day with countless family and school-related activities. Jessica lives in the central United States with her husband, daughter and son.

To my readers. Thanks for allowing me to share my stories with you.

## Chapter One

“THERE’S been a change in plans, Maggie.”

Reporting for duty on Monday morning, Maggie Randall stopped in her tracks at Captain Keller’s words. That particular phrase never heralded good news and she braced herself for the latest bombshell. Two weeks ago when the captain had said something similar, she’d gotten a new partner and her life hadn’t been the same since.

Then again, maybe he had finally realized how partnering her with Joseph Donatelli had been a mistake, she thought hopefully. Perhaps he was about to announce that he would shuffle the duty roster and assign her to someone else, someone who understood the concept of compromise.

“Oh?” she asked.

“You’ll work with Kevin Running Bear today,” he said.

Kevin was a firefighter with emergency medical technician training. Normally, he fought fires, but in a pinch he filled in on the ambulance crew. Apparently today was one of those move-people-around-to-cover-the-hole days, which meant that Joe must be playing hookey.

As crazy as it sounded, she was actually relieved. For the next twenty-four hours she could do her job in peace. No battles to fight. No justifying her every move. No opportunities for Joe to find fault with her decisions, complain about what he considered her overly friendly bedside manner or the length of time she spent with their patients.

And definitely there would be no chance of her knees turning weak when he flashed one of his lazy smiles at her. Being attracted to a man who could push her buttons without even trying was extremely irritating, which was probably why she practically bristled like a porcupine whenever they were together.

Needless to say, their little ‘clashes’, as she liked to call them, were making it extremely difficult to develop the rapport they needed to function together as a team. Doing so was important to her for no other reason than she’d never live with herself if a patient ultimately paid the price for their inability to get along.

“What happened to Joe?” she asked, half-surprised that he called in on such short notice. In the four years they’d both been employed by the Barton Hills Fire Department, Joe had received citations for his perfect attendance. Whatever had kept him from his shift must be serious indeed.

“He’s taking a personal day,” Captain Keller said.

A personal day? She may have only worked with Joe for the past two weeks since his temporary transfer to Station One, but the crews scattered among the three fire stations in Barton Hills were a close-knit group. Everyone knew everyone else and Joe’s record for dependability was legendary. The man was the first to arrive—often an hour before his shift began—and the last to leave. Rumor had it that he’d work 24/7 if allowed to because he didn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. Of course, that would cut into the steady stream of women he supposedly dated, but, regardless of his social life, he lived his job to the point that he only scheduled a vacation when he’d maxed out his earned time hours.

“Really?” she asked, incredulous.

He nodded. “Really. But before you break out the champagne…”

Her face warmed under her superior’s chastening gaze. “I wouldn’t,” she protested weakly.

He raised an eyebrow, as if he knew she wasn’t quite telling the truth. “Just remember, this is only for today.”

She held back her sigh of disappointment. “I know.”

He eyed her carefully. “Look, I’m aware that things aren’t running like a well-tuned engine between you two, especially after the Hilda Myers incident.”

Hilda was an elderly lady who suffered from anxiety attacks and called 911 on a regular basis. Maggie had befriended her and usually, after a short visit that was long enough to sample the cookies or cake that Hilda had so precipitously provided, the older woman was fine. Joe had taken exception to a call that he considered to be little more than a social visit and quietly began to dig into Hilda’s history. The next thing Maggie knew, he’d gotten the captain, then the chief involved, and by the end of the week Hilda’s family had moved her to an assisted living home. While Maggie had been working for weeks to convince Hilda to accept her limitations and relocate to a place of her choosing, she hated that the elderly lady hadn’t been given the option to decide her own fate.

In truth, she didn’t fault Joe for the final outcome—Hilda was finally in an environment that suited her needs, even if the older woman had been reluctant to take that step. However, what really rankled Maggie was how Joe had accomplished in a matter of days what she hadn’t been able to accomplish in months. He was the full-steam-ahead sort while she was willing to look for a more circuitous solution.

“The problem is, you’re both, shall we say, strong willed,” the captain continued, “but you each have partners on medical leave and pairing you two was the only logical decision Chief Watson could make.”

This time she did sigh. “I suppose so.”

He clapped her shoulder. “Cheer up. It’s only until Bill and Robert get back on their feet. A few months, tops.”

Her regular partner, Robert MacArthur, had missed a step at home and fallen down a flight of stairs, breaking an ankle. He’d undergone two surgeries and developed an infection after the second. Bill Reeves, Joe’s partner at Station Two, had torn a rotator cuff in his shoulder, playing baseball with his teenage son. After surgery, he wasn’t healing as fast as his doctor had hoped. As a result, both Joe and Maggie had been “orphaned” and rather than play musical partners, the chief had matched them on the paramedic duty roster.

In Maggie’s opinion, it wasn’t a match made in heaven.

“A few months,” she echoed with a weak smile. She could handle anything for that length of time. Or so she hoped.

“You’re both off for the next couple of days,” Keller reminded her. “If I were you, I’d use the time to figure out a way to resolve your differences. Otherwise the next couple of months will stretch out mighty long for all of us. I don’t want to referee your little skirmishes for the entire time.”

Once again, the captain was right. Four months, less two weeks, could stretch out interminably, even with their twenty-four-hours-on, forty-eight-hours-off schedule.

“Yes, sir,” she said, hoping he’d given Joe the same pep talk when he’d called in to take his personal day.

Maggie thought about the situation throughout her entire shift. Resolving their differences when they were rooted within completely different philosophies seemed an impossible task, but she had to do something.

The answer came in the late night hours as they often did when she was about to drift off to sleep. If Joe had called in to take an unscheduled personal day, he had to be sick. What man wouldn’t appreciate someone giving him a little sympathy when he was suffering? Yes, she thought with some satisfaction, a bit of TLC was in order…

Joe saw the familiar older-model sedan with its front end folded like an accordion against a light pole. He jumped from his ambulance and ran forward, only to find Dee’s head resting against the steering-wheel. Eyes closed, blood ran down her face from the cut on her forehead.

“Dee?” he urged, feeling a familiar panic as he recognized his victim was a friend. “Hang on and we’ll get you out of there.”

Her pale eyelids fluttered open. “Joe?”

He clasped her hand, noticing how cold her skin felt. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” He turned to yell at the firefighters swarming over the vehicle. “Hurry up. We need to get her out of there, now.”

“Joe?”

He met her gaze, determined to hide his worry in spite of the fear gripping his chest. “Yeah?”

“I can’t feel my legs or my arms.”

“Don’t panic,” he told her, trying to follow his own advice. “We’ll take care of you. I promise.”

“O…K.” Dee’s eyes closed, then burst open. “The baby. Look after…the baby, Joe.”

Immediately Joe glanced into the backseat. Empty. No infant car seat, no baby paraphernalia. “What baby, Dee?” he asked. “Whose baby?”

“Mine,” Deanna mumbled.

“Where is it?” he urged. “I don’t see a baby.”

“Take care…of…her.” Dee gasped for air and began to act agitated. “Promise.”

Trying to keep her calm and certain she was hallucinating, he said the only thing he could to a friend. “I promise, but where is she?”

Dee cocked her head. “Can’t you hear her, Joe?”

He listened. “I can’t.”

“You have to, Joe. You’re all she has.”

This time, a distant wail of a baby caught his attention and he knew it was imperative that he locate this child. But where should he look? “I hear her, Dee, but where is she?”

“She’s right here.”

He glanced around the scene, afraid to find the broken body of a child thrown from the vehicle. Nothing. “I don’t see her, Dee…”

Joe bolted upright in his easy chair, awakening to the now-familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach before he realized he’d been dreaming again. He wasn’t reliving a modified version of the accident that had taken the life of his old friend, Deanna Delacourt, and he wasn’t frantically searching for a baby. He was at home, dozing in his easy chair, and Dee’s daughter was sleeping in his spare bedroom, although at this particular moment she was wailing loud enough to wake the neighbors.

Muscles protesting as he unfolded his body to stand, he rubbed his gritty eyes before checking the time. 9:00 a.m. He’d gotten exactly three hours of uninterrupted sleep all night, which wasn’t remarkable by itself. Working long stretches without a break wasn’t uncommon when he was on duty because emergencies didn’t occur on a schedule. He simply went home at the end of his shift, fell into his bed and caught up the hours he’d missed.

Unfortunately, his life wasn’t as accommodating since little Breanna Delacourt had moved into his house. She was his to care for 24/7 whether he was exhausted or not, which meant his days of solitude had come to a swift end. Hell, at this rate, he’d have to go to work just so he could get some shut-eye.

Breanna’s wails pierced his eardrums. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said aloud to the empty room as he walked down the short hallway, rolling his shoulders to ease the ache and rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes.

“Good morning, little Bee,” he told the eleven-month-old, who was sitting on her makeshift bed of blankets and a sleeping bag in the middle of the bedroom floor. “What’s wrong?”

Breanna’s mouth quivered as tears glistened on her eyelashes. From the way she eyed him, she’d obviously felt as if she were living her worst nightmare, too. And she probably was. Wanting her mother and getting him instead had to be as stressful for her as the situation was for him. He, at least, had the advantage of understanding what had happened but Breanna did not. She only knew that she wanted her old life with her mother, not this new one with a man she’d never met.

What were you thinking, Dee? he silently railed. You knew I wasn’t cut out to be the sort of father figure a kid needed.

But whatever plane in the universe where Dee had gone didn’t allow for two-way communication. He was on his own, left to devise a plan for a situation he hadn’t anticipated in his wildest dreams. And at the moment the first thing to do was to sort out what Breanna wanted…

Uncomfortable in his new role as father, Joe had learned enough in his crash ‘daddy’ course to change her diaper and he did so with clumsy hands. He’d never felt as helpless as he did now—as he had for the past thirty-six hours. Nothing he did made the little girl happy and he’d already exhausted his small store of parenting ideas. He needed help…and fast. But who could he call?

Honestly, Dee, what made you think I was the best candidate to take care of your daughter?

His little voice corrected him. Dee said you were all she had, remember?

“She was wrong,” he said aloud, ignoring the idea that denying Dee’s claim didn’t make it so.

The doorbell pealed and he frowned at the interruption. Dressing Breanna for the day would have to wait.

He freed her snuggle bunny from being buried in the blankets and tucked it next to her, hoping he could deal with his early morning guest before Breanna realized he’d left the room and raised the roof again.

A minute later, to Joe’s amazement, he saw his fellow paramedic, Maggie Randall, fidgeting on his porch. She’d obviously come directly on her way home from the fire station because she still wore her blue uniform. Her long, tawny hair was restrained in her customary braid and her expression reflected the wariness he was coming to expect when she spoke to him.

He wasn’t so physically and emotionally exhausted not to realize that he was responsible for the caution in her chocolate-brown eyes, but what could he expect? They’d butted heads from the very beginning and all because it was the only way he could counteract the electrical jolt a single, innocent and accidental touch had given his system. Right now, though, she was a familiar face and a welcome sight.

“Am I glad to see you,” he said fervently.

She blinked, clearly taken aback by his declaration. “You are? Oh. Well, good morning to you, too.” Her gaze swept over him, making him conscious of his babyfood-stained T-shirt, tousled hair and bare feet. “Sorry to show up unannounced, but you missed a shift so I thought I’d check on you and make sure everything was OK.”

The concept of anyone questioning his absence and worrying about him was foreign and completely disconcerting, especially when Maggie was the one worrying. She was an attractive woman with a vivacious, caring personality that he found very appealing. For the hundredth time, he wished Maggie had chosen another field because she stirred him in ways he shouldn’t be stirred if he wanted to keep their relationship on a professional footing.

“Actually, things aren’t OK,” he began.

Sympathy shone from her eyes. “I can see that. You look a little rough around the edges. The stomach bug going around right now is vicious.” She thrust a container at him. “My mother swears there isn’t anything that chicken-noodle soup can’t cure, so I got up early and threw it together just for you.”

The dish was still warm. Once again, it was humbling to realize Maggie had gone to the trouble when she didn’t have to bother. It was even more humbling to think she’d made the effort when he hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her. “How did you manage? You couldn’t have had time to go shopping…”

“I didn’t,” she admitted. “I raided the cupboards at the station so I’ll replace what I took the next time I’m on duty. It’s no big deal.”

Her effort may not be a big deal to her, but to him it was. “Thanks, but I’m—”

“Don’t worry, I left out the arsenic.”

Unable to help himself, he chuckled. “I wasn’t worried. If anything happens to me, you’ll be the first suspect.”

Her smile lit up her face. “Exactly. However, if I were you,” she continued as if she were in a hurry to leave now that she’d done her good deed, “I’d go back to bed and get some rest. Do you have the usual home remedies? Acetaminophen, decongestant, cough medicine, soda and crackers? If not, I’ll be happy to run to the store or do whatever…”

“I’m not sick.”

She hesitated. “You aren’t?”

“Something came up,” he began as an idea popped into his head and instantly took root. “Something personal.”

“Oh.” She took a step backward. From the way her face turned a beautiful shade of pink as she eyed the bowl in his hand, she clearly regretted her kind action. “Then I’m sorry to bother you,” she said stiffly.

“You aren’t bothering me at all,” he assured her. “In fact, you’re the very person I need, Maggie.”

Before she could do more than stare at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside.

Maggie didn’t know what threw her off center the most—the tingles his touch sent up her arm or the claim from the most independent, do-it-himself man she’d ever met that he needed her. Although her heart warmed at hearing the words, she also knew that being needed was her weak point. She hadn’t fully recovered from the last time a man had taken advantage of her good nature with those words.

“Excuse me?” she asked politely as she found herself in his foyer, where she heard a baby wailing.

“I don’t know who else to turn to,” he admitted. “When you showed up on my doorstep…trust me when I say you’re a gift from heaven.”

She eyed him with suspicion, purposely staring at his face to avoid the sight of his wide chest, the well-defined muscles under his snug-fitting gray T-shirt, and the runner’s legs revealed by his athletic shorts. “A gift? Come on, Donatelli. This is me you’re talking to, not one of your weekend bimbos. Are you sure you haven’t been nipping the cough syrup?”

“I haven’t taken a drop,” he insisted. “I just need a few pointers…”

The wailing grew louder until she saw the source of the noise crawling toward them in a pink sleeper. The little girl with tousled light brown curls and a scowl on her pixie face dragged a lopeared bunny in a tight-fisted hand.

“You’re babysitting?” she asked inanely.

A pained expression crossed his face. “No. Well, I am, but not in the true sense of the word. She’s…” His voice faded and he rubbed his face.

“She’s what, Joe?”

He hesitated. “She’s…mine.”

Joe? A father? It simply didn’t compute. He’d never given any indication, never even hinted that he had a child, but he was a handsome man who didn’t seem to lack female companionship. Nothing said he couldn’t have an ex-wife in the picture, even if he hadn’t shared that so-called picture with anyone.

His ‘something personal’ was definitely personal, but his new status struck her the most. She did not want to be attracted to another single father. Once had been enough.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any family,” she accused.

“I don’t.” He jerked a hand through his hair, leaving several strands askew. “Breanna is…It’s a long story.”

“I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath. Certain she should steer clear of this situation because it was nothing more than an emotional minefield, she edged toward the door. “I should go and leave you two to…” She watched the baby maneuver herself into a sitting position at Joe’s feet, where she continued to whimper. “To bond.”

He reached out and held the door closed with one large hand. “Don’t go. Please.”

“You’re busy, Joe, and I only stopped by to drop off the soup, which obviously wasn’t necessary.”

“I need you. Breanna needs you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said briskly, determined to stick to her non-involvement policy. “I just met her. What can I do?”

“Help me figure out why she won’t stop crying. She’s been like this since I got her.”

Breanna stared up at Maggie with water-filled eyes and hiccuped her sobs. Maggie steeled herself against the tears, but when the little girl dropped to all fours and crawled forward until she grabbed Maggie’s pant leg and pulled herself upright, Maggie knew she couldn’t walk away.

She cast a disparaging glance at Joe before crouching down to the little girl’s level. “Hi sweetie,” she crooned. “What’s wrong?”

Immediately, Breanna raised her arms and sniffled.

Maggie’s heart hadn’t hardened enough to deny this precious and clearly unhappy baby a hug. Giving in to the inevitable, she lifted the youngster off the floor and tucked her expertly on one hip as she swiped Breanna’s tear-streaked face. “What’s wrong with your world, little one?”

Breanna laid her head on Maggie’s shoulder and quieted.

Joe mumbled something under his breath—something that sounded like ‘what wasn’t wrong?’

“What did you say?” she asked.

He rubbed his face at the same time his shoulders seemed to slump as if in relief. “Nothing.” Then, “She likes you.”

Maggie would have been perfectly satisfied if the little girl had ignored her and crawled in the opposite direction. “She just recognizes a soft touch.”

“Soft touch or not, do you mind staying for a while? Until she settles down for longer than thirty seconds and my ears stop ringing?”

She wanted to refuse, but his hopeful expression, coupled with her own goal to begin building some sort of rapport with him, convinced her to agree. “OK, but only for a few minutes.”

“Great. Have a seat while I fix her breakfast.”

Maggie followed him into a small kitchen where the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes. From the way he paused to frown, then sigh at the sight, she suspected he was normally as meticulous in his house as he was on the job. Clearly, his daughter had upset his entire routine and style of living.

She sat at a table covered with pizza boxes and take-out containers as the little girl clung to her like a sandburr; nothing short of something drastic would convince her to let go, so Maggie simply let her hang on.

“To be honest, I expected to find you with your head in the toilet, not taking care of a baby,” she commented, politely ignoring the mess.

“After the past two days, I wish you had,” he said dourly.

Maggie chuckled, somewhat amused that she was finally seeing a different side to the organized, everything-in-its-place Joseph Donatelli. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“It was worse,” he said glumly, rubbing the two days’ worth of dark whiskers on his face before he began preparing baby formula with actions testifying to an obvious lack of experience. “I haven’t slept for more than a few hours at a time and neither has she. I honestly don’t know how she has the energy to keep going.”

Strangely enough, his less-than-immaculate appearance only made him seem more human, more vulnerable, and far more appealing than he already was. He looked like a man in desperate need of a woman’s touch and she had to stop herself from wanting to be the one to give it to him. As much as she hated to think that he’d denied his own child, she couldn’t ignore the way he had to read directions for such a simple task. OK, so he didn’t talk about his daughter, but maybe he had a good excuse…Maybe her mother lived in another state; maybe he didn’t have access to his child until now, maybe it was too painful to discuss a baby who wasn’t a part of his life. But whatever the reason, as her partner, he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

“You haven’t done this very often, have you?” she asked softly, noticing how he spilled the formula as he poured it into a bottle and struggled to attach the nipple.

“Clearly, my incompetence shows,” he said wryly.

“I wouldn’t call it incompetence,” she said, trying to minimize his obvious failing. “Awkwardness, perhaps, but if you do anything often enough, it will become second nature. Before long, you’ll be able to fix her formula in your sleep.”

He cast a baleful glance in her direction. “Mixing formula is one thing. Understanding what to do to keep her from crying all day long is another.”

“Given enough time, you’ll learn that, too,” she predicted. “Didn’t you spend any time with her while her mom was around so she’d learn you weren’t a stranger?”

“No.”

“Then maybe you should call her and explain the problems you’re having,” she suggested. “She may—”

“No.” He shook his head for emphasis. “I can’t.”

How typical of the Joe Donatelli she knew. He could never admit failure, never admit he might be wrong or couldn’t handle a situation. She wanted to think his Italian heritage came into play, but she had enough males in her family to suspect his stubbornness was just a guy thing.

“Of course you can,” she said impatiently. “Admitting you’re out of your depth isn’t the end of the world.”

“Her mother’s dead,” he said flatly. “I’m on my own.”

Dead? He had a far bigger problem than she’d realized…“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He raked his hair with one hand. “That makes two of us.”

“I assume it was recent,” she said slowly, testing his reaction.

Silently, he brought a small bowl of baby cereal and a jar of strained peaches to the table, then mixed some of the formula into the cereal. His jaw was clenched, and Maggie waited for his answer.

Finally, he nodded. “A week ago. Car accident on the other side of town. She apparently hydroplaned and struck a telephone pole.”

Maggie thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. I remember reading about the accident in the newspaper. That was Breanna’s mother?”

“Yeah,” he admitted gruffly. “That was Dee.”

“If I remember right, the guys from Station Two responded.”

“We did.”

Suddenly, it all became clear. He’d been more taciturn than usual on that particular Friday when they’d worked together. She’d assumed his grumpiness had been because he’d pulled an extra shift at Station Two on his regular day off to cover their staff shortage, but obviously she’d been wrong.

“And you were on the scene,” she guessed.

Again he nodded, his eyes bleak. “Yes.”

Maggie leaned back in her chair and stared at him as he began feeding Breanna, hardly able to reconcile everything she’d learned with her own perceptions. It was always difficult to lose a victim, but to know that individual on a personal level made it even more so. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “You should have told us.”

“It wouldn’t have changed the final outcome.”

“No, but we could have supported you in your loss.” Then she added, “Do the guys at Station Two know?”

“I told them Dee and I were friends. Which we were.”

“Friends who had a baby.” Her mind raced with scenarios and possibilities of why Joe hadn’t told anyone about his daughter. Either he didn’t trust anyone with the information or he was as shallow in his relationships as Arthur had been. Neither option sat well.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’d be wrong.” His voice was hard.

She raised an eyebrow. “Just what am I thinking, Donatelli?”

“That I walked out on her, leaving her to face her pregnancy alone, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Pain appeared in his dark eyes for an instant before it disappeared. “The last time I saw Dee, she didn’t have a steady boyfriend and she certainly didn’t look or say she was expecting. Naturally, when she talked about her daughter while we were working on her…” He paused, then cleared his throat before he continued, “I thought she was confused and imagining things because she’d always wanted a houseful of kids.”

Dee may not have been confused, but Maggie definitely was. Breanna was Joe’s daughter, yet when he’d known her mother, Dee hadn’t been seeing anyone and she supposedly hadn’t been pregnant.

“I didn’t know Breanna existed,” he went on, “until Dee’s attorney contacted me the other day. I was apparently named in her will as Breanna’s guardian if anything happened to her.”

Now the scenario made sense. Joe wasn’t the deadbeat dad she’d feared, denying the existence of his own child. He was a man who’d been granted custody of a friend’s baby. “I assume her father isn’t in the picture?”

He visibly winced and for a long moment didn’t answer. When he finally spoke, he sounded weary. “According to Breanna’s birth certificate, you’re looking at him.”

## Chapter Two

HE WAS A FATHER. The concept was so completely foreign to him that Joe couldn’t make sense of it no matter how many times he repeated the fact. A father. A dad. A parent. Fate was surely having a laugh at his expense.

What the hell were you thinking, Dee? he silently railed for what seemed the hundredth time. You knew fatherhood wasn’t in my plans.

He wanted to wash away the past few days as easily as he washed away the smoke clinging to his body after a fire, but life didn’t work that way. He had to deal with the aftermath as best as he could, and right now that meant doing whatever was necessary to keep Breanna calm when he’d rather howl with her.

The only bright spot was that at this moment he wasn’t alone. Maggie was here, being an anchor at a time when he desperately needed one. Although, at the moment, his so-called anchor looked as if someone had pulled the rug out from under her.

“You’re her father? Her real, biological father?”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, he would have found humor in Maggie’s surprise. “So the paperwork says.”

“The paperwork,” she repeated. “You mean, you don’t know for certain?”

“No, I don’t. Dee and I…Our physical relationship was…” he winced as he chose his words carefully in the interest of full disclosure “…very short-lived. It didn’t take long for us to realize we were better friends than lovers, which was what we were during the entire time I knew her,” he insisted.

She raised an eyebrow. “I see. How old is Breanna?”

“Eleven months.”

“When did you meet Dee?”

He thought for a minute. “Not quite two years ago.”

Maggie’s brow furrowed as if she were doing the math. “The timeframe fits.” From the doubt on her features, she didn’t believe his relationship with Dee had been based on friendship, not sex. Considering the child on her lap, if he wore her shoes, he wouldn’t either.

Circumstantial evidence, in his opinion. “I know this situation doesn’t show me in a favorable light, but Dee and I were only friends,” he insisted. “And she wasn’t the sort of woman to sleep around.”

“I’m not anyone’s judge and jury, Joe. You don’t owe me any explanations,” she said.

For reasons he didn’t understand, Maggie’s opinion mattered. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him. Perhaps it was because he was still trying to find his footing with her as his new partner and feeling as if he was failing miserably. Perhaps it was because he wanted to see respect in her eyes when she looked at him. Perhaps he was afraid that if he wasn’t completely honest and utterly transparent, she’d leave him to face this alone. Right now, that was too frightening a fate to consider.

“But the fact remains—and I’m not doubting you—Breanna could be yours.”

He shook his head. “We had sex once—once—and it was very early in our relationship.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know the drill. It only takes a single swimmer to create a baby.”

“We were careful,” he insisted, not willing to believe their precautions had failed.

“If you say so,” she said agreeably, as if she were only humoring him. “And if that’s true—and I’m not saying it isn’t—then you believe Dee’s trying to foist someone else’s baby on you?”

“Yes. No.” He ran a hand through his hair. As close as they had become, it seemed out of character for Dee to have been secretly dating someone on a regular basis. If she hadn’t had a steady romantic interest, Breanna could have been the result of a one-night stand, in which case Dee might have been too embarrassed to admit it.

More importantly, though, after all the hours they’d spent talking about their shared histories, it seemed odd that she’d pass another man’s baby off on him when she’d known his decision about parenthood was unchangeable. “I don’t know. She never mentioned she was keeping company with anyone else, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t.”

And yet, realizing that she’d hidden her pregnancy from him after they’d been so open with each other was a huge disappointment.

“Then I hate to tell you this, Donatelli, whether you want to believe it or not, you’re the logical suspect.”

Admittedly, he was, but there still had to be some mistake. Birth control was something he believed in wholeheartedly and he never took shortcuts or relied on the woman to assume responsibility. Because he didn’t think he could be too careful, he always controlled that aspect of his life. No exceptions. Ever.

“I asked the lawyer for a paternity test.”

“And?”

“He’ll make the arrangements and will let me know where to be and when.”

Her expression was inscrutable. “What happens in the meantime? DNA testing could take a few weeks.”

According to the lawyer, Joe was looking at a two-to-three-week wait, give or take, and that wasn’t counting the time to schedule an appointment. As this situation didn’t warrant immediate, overnight service, Dee’s attorney wasn’t in favor of rushing the process, so Joe guessed it would take three to four weeks from start to finish.

Four weeks to assume the monumental task of looking after Dee’s daughter. Four weeks to know the truth. Four weeks that seemed like an eternity.

“I’ll do the best I can,” he said honestly.

“And if you’re not her father?” She raised an eyebrow. “What then, Donatelli?”

Funny how he was learning that when she called him by his last name, she was exasperated with him. Hell, right now he was exasperated with himself and everyone else, especially with Dee for dumping him in this no-win situation.

“I should give her to someone who wants to be a parent,” he said, testing her reaction. “Someone who’s more capable and better suited to raise a child.”

“Who says you aren’t capable?”

“I do,” he said tersely.

“I see,” she said, although her expression held more curiosity and speculation than certainty. “Then why wait? Why not relinquish your legal responsibility now?”

Why not, indeed? The fact was, two very compelling reasons had prompted his wait-and-see decision. If Breanna was truly his, he’d be damned if he’d follow in his father’s footsteps and abandon her. Of course, that raised the question of what he’d do if she wasn’t his daughter. The answer would be easy, if not for one minor, yet mighty detail.

He exhaled slowly. “I made a promise.”

“I see.” She looked thoughtful. “How does the saying go? ‘Promises are made to be broken’?”

“Not mine,” he said firmly. He’d learned through bitter experience that a man’s word was the most valuable thing he owned. He couldn’t ignore that truth simply because it was convenient.

On the other hand, were verbal agreements valid when they were elicited without full disclosure? At the time, he would have sworn anything to keep Dee calm. Would he have been as quick to tell her what she’d wanted to hear if he’d known of Breanna’s existence, if he’d really known what he was pledging to do?

He’d obviously said the right words because a wide, approving smile stretched across Maggie’s face. “You’re a good man, Donatelli,” she said gruffly, “even if you don’t think you’re the best man for the job.”

“How can I be?” he asked. “I’m a single guy.”

“Lots of single parents, including men, raise kids.”

“I don’t have any idea how to take care of a baby, much less a little girl.”

“You’ll learn.”

He began to pace. “You don’t understand. I’m the last person a kid needs as a father figure. My own—” He cut himself off.

“Yes…?” she coaxed. “Your own…what?”

He didn’t want to explain and never felt the need to share the sordid tale. Dee was the only person who’d ever heard his story, but that had only been because she’d been a kindred spirit—a young woman who’d shared his experience. For his entire life, he’d placed that history into a small box he’d labeled “Keep Out” and stored it in the back of his memory while he’d gone to school and made a successful, rewarding career for himself. He’d built his life the way he wanted it and he was happy being a carefree, no-strings-attached bachelor.

At the same time, he knew Maggie would never understand his position if he didn’t explain. As soon as he did, she’d agree he wasn’t the best man for the job.

“My home life was dysfunctional, to say the least,” he said, omitting specifics. “My mother died when I was a baby and when I was five, my father disappeared, leaving me in foster care. By the time I was ten, I’d decided that parenting wasn’t in my future. I’m thirty years old and don’t have the first clue about dealing with a kid, much less a baby.”

To his surprise, Maggie didn’t gasp in horror, although he saw the sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry you didn’t grow up under ideal conditions,” she said softly, “but I know who you are today, Joe. I’ve seen you interact with children when we’ve worked accidents. You aren’t as incompetent as you think.”

“Handling a youngster during an emergency situation is different than in a day-to-day situation,” he added impatiently. “I don’t know the first thing about finding a sitter or a doctor. Then there’s formula and baby food, clothing sizes, and God only knows what else! What I know about a child’s daily needs would fit in a teaspoon.”

She shrugged. “Then you’ll learn. Do you think first time parents learn those things by osmosis, that it’s magically downloaded into their brains during delivery?”

OK, so maybe he could cope with the physical stuff like diapers and formula and clothing sizes, but the emotional aspect scared him spitless. How could he possibly give the love and support Breanna needed when he had nothing in his own experience to use as a pattern?

“I can’t screw up her life,” he said flatly.

“Giving up already?”

Her expression was inscrutable, but Joe sensed her disapproval. And if she disapproved of him breaking his promise, he could imagine the response he’d get from his superiors—quintessential family men—as well as the guys who worked alongside him in the trenches. None of them would understand; they’d only see the situation as one where he didn’t live up to the duties that a dead woman had given him, regardless of who had fathered her child. That was a big deal to men who safeguarded people and property at all costs.

He rubbed his eyes. “Promise or not, she’d be better off with a stable couple who wants children.”

“Dee apparently wanted you to do the honors,” she reminded him.

Dammit, Dee! Why did you drag me into this? And if Breanna is mine, why didn’t you tell me? Prepare me?

But she hadn’t and now he had to deal with this mess as best as he could. If the situation simply didn’t work out, then his conscience would be appeased, but he owed it to Dee to try his best in the meantime.

Which meant he needed a crash course on parenting from someone with experience…

Half resigned and half scared out of his wits at his fate, he met her gaze. “Regardless of what Dee was thinking, I can’t take on Breanna alone.”

“Once the guys at the station hear what happened, their wives will offer more help than you can ever imagine.”

He shook his head as his answer stood before him. “Not good enough. Oh, I’m sure they’ll be happy to pitch in once in a while or when I’m on duty, but what about the rest of the time?”

“You’ll function like every other single father. You’ll look after her, take her wherever you go, play with her, and pray for nap time.”

“And what if I have a problem, like today? I need someone I can depend on, day or night.” He turned a steady gaze on her. “Someone like my partner.”

Her jaw dropped. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re perfect. You’re single, so I wouldn’t feel guilty calling you at all hours, and you’re a woman so you’re a natural at the nurturing stuff.” As she sputtered, he continued, “You’re also the one with the huge family, scads of nieces and nephews. You have an instinct with kids. Why, look at the miracle you performed in the last thirty minutes.”

“Yes, but—”

“I need someone to teach me what to do. With your family experience, you’re the best candidate. The only candidate.”

No, Maggie screamed inside. As sorry as she was about his tough childhood, he should rely on someone who wanted the job. Joe’s suggestion was out of the question. Simply. Out. Of. The. Question.

“No,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I’m not your man, or your woman as the case may be.”

He seemed surprised by her answer. “Why not? You love children.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Oh?”

His raised eyebrow made it plain that he was waiting for an explanation. He would wait for a long time, she thought wryly. For one thing it was too painful to discuss and for another she didn’t care to admit she’d been duped by a man who’d played her as expertly as a cellist played his instrument.

“I won’t discuss them,” she said stiffly. “Rest assured, my reasons are valid.”

“And mine aren’t?”

“OK,” she conceded, “maybe we both have good excuses but—”

“I’d heard via the grapevine that you’d almost married a guy with two kids.”

“‘Almost’ is the operative word,” she quipped to hide the ache that hadn’t completely disappeared. “Your situation is different.”

“Because we aren’t sleeping together?” he asked. “If that’s what it takes…”

A tingle shot through her—a completely unwarranted tingle that started low in her belly and moved upward as a mental picture instantly developed in living color in her mind’s eye. A second later, she wiped away the image and shifted her weight to stop the electricity skittering across her nerve endings.

“Don’t be crude,” she snapped, as irritated by her response as by his offer. “I loved him and I loved…” her throat suddenly closed “…those little boys. Your circumstances don’t compare.”

“Dee’s daughter needs you as much as those two did, if not more. They had their father. She has no one except me and I’m not doing such a hot job.”

As if he needed to remind her of the little girl’s need while the infant sat on her lap and clutched Maggie’s shirt with one tiny fist. He had to state the obvious, which was guaranteed to tug at her heartstrings. “You’re not playing fair.”

“No, I’m not. If you expect me to have a hope of raising Breanna properly, I need your help.”

An image of Zach and Tyler flashed into her head. She hadn’t seen them for more than a year. Their father had decided to move back to Montana so he could leave his memories of his dead wife behind and renew his relationship with his highschool sweetheart. As soon as she’d recovered from the shock that he hadn’t reciprocated her love in spite of what she considered evidence to the contrary, she’d realized she’d simply been his stopgap measure. He’d used her to buy himself time to get over the proverbial hump of losing his wife and learning to deal with his two children. Once he had, he’d moved on.

And now Joe was asking her to put herself in the same position of being used again. Well, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She’d sworn off getting emotionally entangled with a man who had children and she wasn’t going to reverse her decision even if he had become a parent overnight.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she said flatly, trying to ignore Breanna’s sweet baby scent or the way she leaned against her with complete trust. “As you know, my story didn’t end on a happy note.”

“His loss.”

If the truth were known, it was more hers than his because she’d invested her heart and soul into their relationship, but she wouldn’t dwell on that right now. “I won’t let myself get emotionally involved again.”

“Says the woman who does it more often than not. Dare I mention the Hilda Myers situation?”

“According to what you so kindly pointed out at the time, you consider my emotional involvement to be a character flaw,” she countered.

He shrugged. “At times. At others, like now, it’s a strength.”

“In this case, it is a flaw,” she insisted. “I already know what will happen. I’ll grow attached to Breanna and then one day it’ll all be over!” I’m twenty-eight and once again I’ll be left with nothing.

“I can argue the same,” he said. “You could meet some guy and next thing I know, you and Mr. Maggie are having juniors and juniorettes all over the place.”

Oddly enough, his description startled her out of her panic and she laughed. “Mr. Maggie? Junior and juniorette?”

“You know what I mean.” He sounded impatient.

What he didn’t understand was that being with him day in and out was as dangerous to her peace of mind as becoming Breanna’s temporary mother figure. If she struggled with her attraction to Joe when they were on duty, how much more difficult would it be to keep her heart intact if she spent her free time with him as well?

“The point is,” he continued, “I won’t consider keeping Breanna unless I have someone I can depend on. Someone who has my back, so to speak.”

“You can’t dump your decision on my shoulders, Donatelli.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes cool. “After Hilda’s case came to a head, you accused me of not supporting you. ‘We didn’t function as a team,’ you said. This is our chance to do that, Maggie, or were you just paying lip service to the concept? Does your philosophy of teamwork only apply when it suits you?”

“I was talking about supporting each other on the job,” she stressed. “I wasn’t referring to our personal lives. They’re separate.”

“Only to a degree,” he pointed out. “Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have a problem working with me if I turned Breanna over to Social Services? That you wouldn’t treat me differently because I didn’t measure up to your standards?”

She bit her lip. Knowing he’d avoided his responsibilities probably would affect her opinion of him. And if she lost her respect for him because she questioned his decision-making ability, how could she ever hope they would function efficiently in an emergency?

“What about all these women you date?” she asked, desperate to provide another solution. “Surely one of them would be happy to—”

“You’re the one I want—the one I trust,” he said firmly.

“I’m flattered, but—”

“You’re asking me to face my fears,” he pressed on. “Yet you’re not willing to face yours. You want me to commit to a job that will last for the next twenty years and beyond, but you aren’t willing to invest a few months or a year of your time? Talk about a double standard.”

She fell silent as the little girl rested against her chest as if she’d settled in Maggie’s lap for the duration. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d suspect this baby was doing her part to convince her to take on this new role.

“Would you really give up Breanna in spite of your promise to Dee if I don’t help you?” she asked.

“In a heartbeat,” he stated with clear conviction. “I know my limitations and I can’t do this by myself. Better for her to go to a loving couple now rather than later.”

The little girl fit in Maggie’s arms as if she belonged there. Holding her was bittersweet. “This is blackmail.”

“It’s common sense,” he corrected. “And I’m desperate, Maggie. If you don’t agree…”

His pleading expression and helpless shrug tugged on her sympathies. As competent as he was as a paramedic, caring for a baby was clearly out of his comfort zone.

“How about this? If you’ll hold my hand until the paternity test results are released, we’ll re-evaluate the situation then.”

“In other words, you’re giving us both a way out.”

“We’ll re-evaluate,” he repeated. “We both want what’s best for Breanna, whatever that might be.”

While that was true, his lack of commitment concerned her. Because of it, could she handle helping him with the baby in the meantime? She frowned, remembering her experiences with Tyler and Zach—how she’d helped with their bedtime rituals, fixed their breakfasts, received the handpicked bouquet of dandelions when they’d played outside.

Even after all this time, the loss hurt.

As she glanced at Joe, the hope in his eyes tipped the scales in his favor. He was her partner and he needed her. She’d also promised her chief to do what she could to mend their differences. If word got around that she refused to help Joe when it was in her power to do so, she’d suffer the consequences.

She didn’t have a choice, she thought with resignation. Because she didn’t, she would treat this situation with the same emotional detachment she used in her job. Her weakness for babies would be a drawback, but this time she wasn’t expecting a happily-ever-after. Her eyes were wide open and no matter how events transpired, she wouldn’t allow herself to forget that she was simply a stopgap measure, a temporary solution.

As long as she remembered that, it would be easy to guard her heart.

“OK,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll help until you have your answers from the lab. Then you’ll have to sink or swim on your own.”

“Fair enough.”

But later, as they rearranged Joe’s spare bedroom to accommodate the baby furniture he had yet to retrieve from Dee’s apartment, she wondered if she hadn’t made a deal with the devil.

It was absolutely amazing to see the difference Maggie’s presence had made in just a few hours. Breanna had stopped her constant crying and had even giggled a few times when Maggie had played peek-a-boo. Joe had been able to take a long, relaxing shower instead of barely giving himself time to get wet, because Maggie had kept the little girl occupied. By the time he’d finished, Maggie had also washed his dishes and tidied the main living areas so his home looked neat and clean, rather than the disaster area it had become.

If he’d thought she wouldn’t take offense and run off in a huff, he would have kissed her.

“How did you do it?” he asked as he surveyed the rooms.

She looked puzzled. “How did I do what?”

“Do your chores and keep Breanna happy at the same time?”

She laughed at his amazement. “It wasn’t hard—you just go about your business. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“You will,” she promised.

“So what did you do to Breanna to keep her happy?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing?”

“Not a thing,” she said. “I suspect she was simply reacting to your negative energy. Your nervousness and anxiety made her nervous and anxious and the only way she could express her emotions was by crying. As you can see, she’s fine.”

And she was. Breanna sat on the floor, cheerfully banging a wooden spoon on a plastic bowl and babbling.

“Wow. I’m amazed. Awed. And thoroughly intimidated.”

Her laugh did funny things to his chest and he wanted to hear the sound again and again. “In a few days,” she assured him, “you’ll be an old pro.”

He was skeptical. “If you say so.”

“Anyway, I took the liberty of going through Breanna’s things and made a list of what she’ll need. You might want to pick up these things today, unless you have a stash of disposable diapers and formula that I didn’t find.”

“No stash.” Joe took the list Maggie had made and read the items recorded in her handwriting. Man, he was in trouble if he thought her handwriting was sexy! Maybe it was time he started living up to his reputation, but surprisingly enough the handful—not hordes—of women he’d spent time with recently faded into insignificance when he compared them to Maggie.

“In that case, I’ve done all I can. I’ll just get out of your hair…”

The thought of her leaving him to handle the baby on his own was scarier than a rescue on a construction scaffold. He caught her arm, conscious of her soft skin. “No, wait.”

She paused. “Did you need something else?”

Hell, yes, he needed something else! He needed Maggie to stay with him, to be his safety net. Knowing that he wasn’t Breanna’s sole caretaker had done wonders for his peace of mind. The sensation of drowning because he was in over his head had eased and he wasn’t eager for that suffocating feeling to return. It would, just as soon as she walked out the door.

“I’d hoped you could spend the day with us,” he admitted. “Between your list and my plan to pick up Breanna’s furniture at her mother’s apartment, an extra pair of hands would be nice.” He flashed her his most pleading expression, hoping she couldn’t resist.

“I haven’t gone home since I left work,” she pointed out. “I’m still wearing my blues, for pete’s sake. I’d really like to change into something else.”

He ran his gaze over her, noticing as he had on days past how well she filled out the unisex department-issue clothing. The good thing about the blue uniform was that it only hinted at what it hid while street clothing usually did not. As she’d mentioned it, though, he wouldn’t mind seeing her in an outfit that she had chosen. Jeans, a skirt, a form-fitting T-shirt that clung to her curves all came to mind…Suddenly, giving her time to change clothes seemed like a wonderful idea.

“Not a problem. We’ll follow you home and then leave from your place.” He sounded overeager, even to his own ears. “Unless you have plans? Then we can come over later.”

“No specific plans,” she said slowly. “At least, nothing that can’t wait a few hours.”

Relief filled him as he grabbed her hand with both of his and squeezed. “Thanks, Maggie. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re…you’re welcome.”

She sounded breathless, as if she wasn’t quite sure of what to make of his impulsive yet enthusiastic gesture.

He wasn’t certain either, but the sensation of her palm against his and the strength in her fingers that belied the fine bone structure coalesced into a desire to pull her into his arms and hold her tightly against him.

However, patience and restraint were lessons he’d learned and things he practiced since he’d been a child. To ignore those lessons was asking for trouble, but he was also a strong believer in taking an opportunity as it presented itself.

Reluctantly, he released her hand. “Shall we go?”

Ten minutes later, he and Breanna walked into Maggie’s house and he was instantly struck by how perfectly suited Maggie was for the task facing him. Her home was cozy and welcoming, with its framed pencil sketches and watercolors on the walls, the large throw pillows and fuzzy afghans hanging from an oak quilt rack. The house was neat and tidy, but it was obvious that everything inside had been selected for comfort rather than style. It was a house in which a person could kick back and relax, a house with a peaceful, contented atmosphere.

In less time than he expected, Maggie returned from her bedroom to rejoin him in the living room. She looked different, almost unrecognizable, and his inner peace shifted to purely masculine interest.

Her uniform had always told him that she was just “one of the guys”. However, as she stood before him in street clothes, he saw her in an entirely new light.

Her faded and soft-from-numerous-washings denim jeans hugged her slim hips and long legs. The lime green V-neck T-shirt clung to her torso and revealed a modest amount of cleavage. A pair of sandals showed off red-painted nails and a silver ring on her second toe.

To think all this had been hiding under the regulation light blue shirt and utilitarian navy blue pants! Oh, the unisex cut of the clothing hadn’t completely disguised what lay underneath; her feminine shape had filled the fabric in ways that the rest of the crew couldn’t, but he’d had no idea just how mouth-watering her form really was.

Or maybe it was simply a case of knowing she was beyond his reach, so he’d never let himself imagine…but now, uniform or not, he’d never look at her the same way again.

## Chapter Three

THEY passed the drive to Dee’s house in silence. Maggie knew Joe wasn’t the talkative sort, so she didn’t find his lack of conversation unusual. He maintained his usual calm, stoic expression as if he didn’t consider this more important than any other errand, but as she studied him unobtrusively—he couldn’t be that unmoved by their tasks or the reason behind them, could he?—she soon found several chinks in his armor.

His mouth had a pinched quality and his eyes, when he accidentally met her gaze, appeared positively haunted. His shoulders seemed permanently squared, as if he needed a military posture to maintain his composure. Strangely enough, knowing that he wasn’t as unaffected as he appeared only made her more sympathetic toward him.

Fortunately, Dee’s neighbor and Breanna’s old babysitter, Hannah Lightner, was at home, so she looked after the toddler while Maggie and Joe let themselves into Dee’s apartment.

The place was eerily quiet, as if it were mourning its missing occupant. Stop being fanciful, she scolded herself. It’s only four walls.

But, walls or not, the spirit of Dee seemed to hover overhead, especially when Maggie entered the bedroom and saw a pile of green silk—a nightgown—lying on the bed. Joe must have sensed it too because for the first time since they’d arrived, he looked uneasy. Then again, perhaps coming here only emphasized the new set of responsibilities that had landed on his shoulders without warning or preparation.

Feeling as if she was intruding on his private moment, Maggie headed to the baby’s bedroom. Joe followed on her heels, as if he didn’t want to be left alone with his memories.

“What should we load first?” she asked, determined to be as upbeat as possible in the face of his somber mood.

“The crib, I’d guess. I’ll get my toolbox from the truck while you pack Breanna’s clothes.”

Within an hour, everything from the crib to the changing table to a stroller and clothing were stacked in the back of Joe’s truck. “We’ll pack up Dee’s things later,” he said as they secured the furniture for travel. “We have a few weeks before the rent is due, so that’ll give us time to figure out what to do with her stuff.”

“That didn’t take long,” Hannah declared as they reappeared on her doorstep.

“We only took the baby’s things,” Joe told her. “We’ll take care of the rest another day. How’s she been?”

“Oh, fine,” Hannah said. “She’s always been such a good baby. I’ve never had any trouble with her at all.”

Joe nodded, but his mouth was pressed into a hard line. Obviously Hannah’s well-meant remarks only emphasized Joe’s feelings of inadequacy. Maggie would have to find ways to build his confidence and increase his comfort level with the little girl, although doing so in the space of a few hours seemed a monumental task.

“I’m just glad I was home today and could help,” Hannah continued, blithely unaware of Joe’s set jaw. “I’m going to miss her. I’ll miss them both.”

Sensing Joe’s tension, Maggie stepped in. “As will a lot of people,” she said. “But we thank you for your time and now we’ll get out of your way so you can enjoy the rest of your day off.”

“Of course.” Hannah led them inside.

Maggie was prepared to see Breanna sitting on the floor, playing with a stack of plastic building blocks, but she hadn’t prepared herself for what came next.

“Mama?” the little girl asked Maggie.

Oh, dear. The one word, uttered with just the right amount of hope and uncertainty, nearly undid her. She wanted nothing more than to escape, to leave this temporary child-rearing task to someone else, but she wasn’t a quitter, or so she told herself before turning a smile on the little girl.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said. “Daddy’s here.”

Breanna went to Hannah, the one familiar constant in her life. “Mama?” she asked.

Hannah’s eyes became suspiciously moist. “No, sweetie. Mama’s not here. But your daddy is.”

Maggie glanced at Joe. The man who’d always seemed as steady as a rock and completely fearless now appeared as if he were living his worst nightmare.

In his mind, he probably was.

“It’s time to go, Breanna,” he said, his voice unnaturally gruff.

Breanna studied him with eyes far too serious for a child her age. “Mama?”

Hannah shrugged apologetically. “She must be waiting for Dee to take her home.”

The notion sent a flash of pain through Maggie’s chest. Right now, Breanna wouldn’t understand why she suddenly had a hole in her young life—she would only know that she did. It would fall on Joe to make sure this child never felt abandoned because of her loss.

Joe turned to Maggie. His eyes reflected indecision. “Now what? I’d rather not drag her out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“Let’s see what she does in a few minutes,” Maggie suggested. She turned to Hannah. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. If you like, I’ll tell you what I know about her schedule.”

So, for the next half-hour, Maggie listened and took mental notes, hoping Joe was absorbing a fraction of the information he was hearing. From the vacant expression on his face, she suspected he was still overwhelmed by the situation. She would need to fill the gap until he found his footing.

Before long, Breanna crawled onto the sofa and sat between them as she eyed Joe cautiously.

“She hasn’t been around many men,” Hannah remarked. “You’re a novelty.”

Maggie found that innocently volunteered tidbit interesting. In her opinion, it added evidence to the case that Joe—not another man—was Breanna’s father. “Then Deanna wasn’t seeing anyone?”

Hannah shook her head. “If she was, she kept him a secret, which wouldn’t have been easy with us living next to each other. Although there was a fellow…” She looked thoughtful.

“And?” Joe raised an eyebrow.

“I saw him with her once or twice a long time ago, but she never introduced us. Then he quit coming and Dee never mentioned his name. Ever.”

Maggie exchanged glances with Joe. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“Possibly. Like I said, it was a long time ago. He reminded me of you,” she addressed Joe, “but not as tall. A little older. He dressed really well, too.” Her face flushed. “Not that you looked like a bum, but this guy always wore a suit.”

“Could he be Breanna’s father?” Joe asked.

Hannah shook her head. “I doubt it.”

“Why do you say that?” Joe asked.

“Because Dee said you were a tough act to follow,” Hannah said bluntly.

A tough act to follow? Maggie was surprised to hear Joe described in such glowing terms. Clearly Dee’s Joe Donatelli was a different man than her Joe Donatelli, she thought with some exasperation.

Feeling guilty for her uncharitable thought, she mentally backpedaled. OK, so he may not be an outgoing, blurt-out-everything-he-was-feeling sort, but her colleagues said he was a kind, honest, dependable person. Just because she hadn’t personally seen indisputable evidence of those traits didn’t mean it wasn’t so.

For an instant, she was almost jealous of a dead woman. Clearly Dee hadn’t had any trouble penetrating his outer shell, especially if his friendship with her had lasted longer than their physical relationship. Maggie should be able to accomplish the same.

The more she thought, the more she realized that in spite of her reluctance to help him with Breanna she wanted to meet the same Joe Donatelli who Dee Delacourt had obviously loved.

At seven o’clock that evening, Joe gratefully sank into the rocking chair as he fed Breanna her bedtime bottle of formula. The little girl had been fed her nighttime snack, bathed, and was now resting in his lap as she clutched her bunny. Joe hoped she’d exhausted herself to the point where she’d sleep all night because he certainly would if he got the chance.

His day hadn’t been tiring in a physical sense, but he’d definitely been through an emotional wringer. It had been tough to visit Dee’s apartment, but facing the memories of his old friend had been easy compared to handling Breanna.

“Tired?” Maggie asked as she sat in the recliner next to his chair and sipped at a cup of coffee.

“I’m beyond tired,” he admitted, rubbing his bristled face with one hand, careful to slow his movements so as not to startle Breanna out of her doze. “I feel like I’m at least twice my age.” At thirty, he’d considered himself in peak form, but that had been before Breanna had entered his life.

“You’ll adjust,” she predicted. “If my brothers could make the transformation to parenthood, so can you.”

He purposely didn’t point out that her brothers hadn’t managed that feat on their own either. They’d had wives and the support of their families behind them. “If you say so. Regardless, I’ve officially decided it’s less stressful to work a thirty-six-hour shift than look after a baby.”

“It’ll get better.”

He glanced at Maggie. “When?”

She smiled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my crystal ball went the way of my time machine.”

“I’ll settle for a ballpark figure.”

“How long does it take you to adjust to a new routine? A new house, new job, new friends? I’m guessing several weeks, minimum.”

He hadn’t thought of Breanna’s situation in those terms and he should have. He’d grown up in foster-care and knew what it was like to be moved into a new home for reasons he often hadn’t understood other than he couldn’t stay where he’d been. Eventually, after he’d learned it didn’t pay to get too cozy or too comfortable in any given residence because it didn’t last, he began to consider his current placement as little more than a hotel.

“Of course, she’s a baby, so she may make the transition sooner,” she offered. “It’s difficult to say.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine,” he said dryly.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said lightly. “To spread sunshine and good cheer.”

Her smile brightened his spirits. “Speaking of sunshine, I don’t want to think how this day would have gone if not for you. We wouldn’t have accomplished a fraction of the things we did. It wouldn’t surprise me if we’d still be at Hannah’s, trying to get Breanna in my truck.”

Breanna hadn’t wanted to leave Hannah’s place, and rightly so. Hannah was a familiar face in a now unfamiliar world and little Bee didn’t want any part of her new life. Maggie, however, had taken charge. She’d matter-of-factly installed Breanna in the car seat and ignored her tantrum during the drive across town. Then, when they’d arrived at his house and he’d tried to carry her inside, Breanna had screamed blue murder until Maggie had simply said her name in the tone a schoolteacher used on an unruly pupil. The little girl had instantly quieted.

“Oh, you’d have managed,” she said lightly.

“I don’t see how. And you kept her busy while I unloaded the furniture and assembled her crib.” Even now, hours later, he could visualize the homey scene. Father working his magic with a screwdriver to assemble furniture while Mother and Baby watched, but he knew this picture’s fairy-tale qualities were deceptive. Nothing lasted for ever. Not even cozy little family moments like the one he was now experiencing.

“I didn’t do anything more than watch her play with her toys,” she answered.

“Don’t be so modest.”

“OK, I’ll take full credit for Breanna occupying herself.” She stifled a yawn.

“Tired?” he asked.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Busy night last night?” he asked, wishing he’d been part of whatever action they’d had.

“Not too bad. Our last call came in at midnight and after that, nothing.”

“Until you got up early to make my soup.”

“About that…You should have told the captain what was going on,” she chided.

“Probably,” he agreed. “But you wouldn’t have landed on my doorstep with lunch in hand, would you?”

She smiled. “Probably not.” She peered at Breanna’s face. “I think she’s asleep. Why don’t you try putting her in her crib?”

Unfortunately, Maggie’s suggestion didn’t go smoothly. As he laid Breanna onto the mattress, the little girl instantly woke and began crying. Nothing he did consoled her as she kicked out in her frustration.

Joe wanted to do the same. So much for hoping tonight would be different. Fortunately, the answer to his problems stood only a few feet away.

“What now?” he asked, his voice ragged as he hoisted Breanna out of her bed and onto his hip.

Maggie stared at the two standing before her, one weary, one unhappy. At that moment, she didn’t know who tugged on her heartstrings more—the innocent whose life had been torn apart so easily by fate or the man who appeared so clearly powerless in the present circumstances. Tears of helplessness formed in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had to remain strong and confident, not just for herself and for this little girl, but also for Joe. He was a man who thrived on being in control and at the moment he was fighting a losing battle against his feelings of inadequacy.

She held out her arms. “Let me have her.”

He passed Breanna to her, but as he did so she saw the bleakness in his eyes and the expression of a man who knew he was completely out of his depth. Joe would need his confidence bolstered before she went home, but at the moment he had to wait his turn.

Maggie soothed the little one against her shoulder with every song she remembered. Fifteen minutes later, the cries were fading to hiccups.

She nuzzled Breanna’s temple and inhaled her sweet baby scent as she told herself to remain detached. She simply had to rein in her feelings and not let them overrule her good sense. If she didn’t, she’d be destroyed when she walked away. She could never lose sight of the fact that caring for Breanna was only a job, and a temporary one at that…