Guarding his secret son, p.2
Guarding His Secret Son, page 2
A bullet wound to the chest? He shook his head, grappling with the news. “I don’t understand. Who shot her?”
“I don’t know.” Liz glanced back down at the baby in her arms. “She couldn’t tell me much, other than to bring the baby to you so you would keep him safe.”
“‘Safe’? From the perp who shot her?”
“I assume so.” Liz took the bottle from the baby’s mouth and turned to rest him upright on her shoulder. She smoothed her hand in circles along the baby’s back. “I was hoping you would know more.”
“I don’t.” None of it made any sense. Rebecca knew he was a deputy; why wouldn’t she have come to him sooner if she was in danger? He began to doubt this woman’s story. “Why would Rebecca show up at your clinic with a gunshot wound?”
“Good question.” She turned the baby back in her arms, gazing down at his sleeping face for a long moment before she looked up at him. “I wish I could tell you more, but honestly, her arrival was a complete shock. Most of my clients are poor, either from the reservation or referred to me because of the free services I provide. Rebecca was dressed in top-notch maternity clothes. She’d had her hair done and beautifully painted nails. Not like my usual clientele.”
Yeah, that sounded like Rebecca.
“I’ve never had a pregnant woman suffering a gunshot wound show up like that,” Liz continued. “But on my way here, I saw a Cadillac along the side of the road, about two miles from my clinic. I didn’t stop to investigate because I was too scared to risk placing Micah in harm’s way.”
“We’ll go there now.” He stood. “I need you to show me the way.”
“My clinic is sixty miles from here,” she warned. “Although I do have to go home that way, I guess.” She rose to her feet and offered the baby. “Don’t you want to hold your son?”
His son. Garrett felt as if he’d been jettisoned into outer space. Was he dreaming? As Liz gently pressed the baby into his arms, he knew he wasn’t.
“Micah,” he whispered, his heart squeezing in his chest. Ten minutes ago, he hadn’t known about his son.
Now he found himself wondering what he was going to do with a new baby. This—He wasn’t prepared for this!
“I can give you some of my supplies until you can shop for your own things,” Liz said, as if reading his mind.
Her offer was another punch to the gut. He didn’t have anything at his place for taking care of a baby. And he didn’t have a clue what that all entailed.
“Please take him.” He couldn’t hide the desperation in his tone as he placed Micah back in her arms. “Let’s go. I need to see Rebecca’s car. There must be some explanation for what happened. A clue of some sort, to figure out what she meant by keeping Micah safe.”
“Okay.” She gave him an odd look but didn’t argue. He took a moment to shut down his computer, then waited for her to secure Micah in his infant car seat. He noticed a small white stuffed bunny was tucked next to the baby. When she finished, she slung the diaper bag over her shoulder.
When he reached for the handle of the baby carrier, she smiled in approval. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d only done that because he knew how heavy it was.
Not because Micah was his son.
His. Son.
There was no reason to believe Liz was lying to him. Why would she? But the entire situation sounded too bizarre to be real.
He was having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that the night Rebecca had comforted him after Jason’s death had resulted in her giving birth to a son. His son. Without her telling him. That was the part he really struggled with.
“Are you sure Rebecca said the baby was mine?” He held the door open for Liz, then took a moment to lock it behind him. “Maybe she just wanted me to keep him safe.”
“I’m positive she said you were Micah’s father.” There was no hesitation in her statement.
“What else did she say?” He led the way around the building to the parking lot. The hour was past eight, and despite the warm July breeze, the sun had dropped below the horizon.
“She begged me not to call 911 because ‘he’ would find her and kill her.” Liz’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She was deathly afraid, Deputy Nichols. And the baby was already crowning, so I placed a pressure dressing over the gunshot wound, then quickly attended to the delivery. But I underestimated how much damage the bullet had caused. There was far too much bleeding into her chest cavity.” Her stricken gaze met his. “I—It was horrible. I’m so sorry. Maybe if I had called 911 right away, she’d still be alive.”
“I don’t blame you, Liz.” He could only imagine what she’d been through. “I’m sure that was a very difficult situation to be in.”
“One of the worst,” she admitted softly.
They had crossed the parking lot and were heading toward a small blue sedan he assumed was Liz’s car when the sound of a shoe scraping along the asphalt reached his ears.
Garrett whirled around, reaching for his gun. Holding on to the baby’s carrier slowed him down, and he was a second too late.
The crack of gunfire echoed through the night.
“Down! Get down!” He awkwardly held the carrier behind his back with one hand as he aimed and fired toward the shadow of a man crouched near one of the parked cars.
He missed, the bullet pinging off the side of the vehicle. Garrett hoped the gunfire would bring backup, but the parking lot remained quiet.
Too quiet.
Had the gunman left? No, he didn’t think so.
Another crack of gunfire confirmed his suspicion. Garrett placed himself between Liz and Micah as he returned fire.
The sound of running footsteps made him think backup had arrived. Then he saw the shadow of a man disappearing down the street. Every cell in his body wanted to give chase, but he didn’t dare leave Liz and Micah unprotected.
Apparently, Rebecca was right: Micah was in danger.
Too bad he had no idea who had come after his son.
TWO
Crouched behind Garrett, Liz had bent over Micah’s carrier, protecting the baby with her body. Her heart thundered in her chest as gunfire reverberated around them.
What in the world was going on? How had the gunman who’d shot Rebecca known to come here, to Green Lake?
And why would anyone want to hurt an innocent baby?
“We’re getting into my SUV, understand?” Garrett’s voice was clipped.
She tentatively lifted her head to look around. “Is he gone?”
“I think so.” Garrett’s grave expression could have been carved from stone. “I’ll need you to carry the baby so I can protect us if needed.”
The baby? Not his son? She frowned but did as he asked since she appreciated the fact that he’d needed his hands free. Seeing him holding the gun made her shiver.
Someone had shot at them! Being square in the middle of gunfire was difficult to comprehend. She straightened and picked up the carrier. Garrett urged her to step in front of him, guiding her to a black SUV not far from her sedan.
He unlocked the vehicle, then stood behind her as she secured the baby carrier, placing it in the car seat so the baby was facing backward. Then she set the diaper bag on the floor.
Garrett escorted her to the passenger seat, again protecting her with his body. Only once she was settled did he jog around to slide behind the wheel. Moments later, he quickly drove out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” She didn’t like leaving her sedan behind. “I need my car to get back to my clinic. I also use my vehicle to visit patients on the rez.” A horrible thought struck her. “Deputy Nichols? Do you think the gunman followed me here to Green Lake?”
“Call me Garrett.” He grimaced. “The perp may have followed you, but I don’t understand why he would wait to come after you and Micah outside our headquarters. Shooting at us near a police station wasn’t smart. Especially when he could have taken you both out on some section of deserted highway, where you wouldn’t be easily found.”
A chill snaked down her spine. “Thanks for that image.”
“Sorry.” He patted her hand. “I didn’t mean to sound callous, but I do think it’s odd the gunman attempted to shoot you here, right next to the sheriff’s department headquarters. And his aim was bad, too. The bullet only missed me by inches but didn’t come anywhere close to you or Micah.”
She frowned, not liking the idea of either of them being a target. Would the gunman kill her just because she’d delivered Micah? That didn’t seem logical. Then again, nothing about this situation made sense. “Okay, so where are we going?”
“My place.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, you and the baby will be safe there.”
Rubbing her temple, she strove to remain calm. Being targeted by gunfire had been terrifying. Garrett’s place would be safe, but she couldn’t just stay in Green Lake indefinitely. She had patients to care for.
Granted, not that many. The rez population had dwindled over the years, especially women of childbearing age. Young people didn’t stay on the reservation; they went out to make their way in the world. Still, she was determined to offer her services to pregnant women in need. Pregnant women of any background—Native American, African American, Hispanic or Caucasian. She welcomed them all.
Thankfully, word of mouth—especially from the Green Bay and Appleton areas—had helped bring women to her clinic. Each time she assisted in bringing a new child into the world, her burden felt a little lighter.
Her clinic was partially subsidized by the government, and by the reservation, but she barely made enough money to pay her meager bills. Liz didn’t mind. Tending to pregnant women was her calling. And it helped her deal with her own loss.
She was so encompassed with her thoughts that she hadn’t realized Garrett had pulled into the driveway of a log home, one that blended nicely against a wooded backdrop. Glancing back at the baby, she wondered if Garrett planned to keep and raise his son. Or if the little boy would end up in foster care.
It bothered her to think Garrett wouldn’t keep Micah. She pushed out of the passenger seat, then went around to unbuckle the baby carrier.
Garrett stood, sweeping his gaze around the area as she shouldered the diaper bag and then lifted the carrier out of the car. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the heavy carrier from her hand.
The baby continued to sleep as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Liz stepped over the threshold, greeted by the welcome scent of pine cleaner. The open-concept kitchen and living room were spotlessly clean. He was either a neat freak or had a cleaning service.
After setting the baby carrier on the kitchen table, he turned to look at her. “I have two guest rooms, but no crib or anything like that.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t expecting this. Rebecca never told me she was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She couldn’t help but wonder if Rebecca’s secret had resulted in her being shot. “Micah can sleep in the carrier for now, although a cradle would be better.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. It was late, going on nine o’clock. Getting back to Liberty would take an hour. “We’re not going to be here that long, are we?”
“Depends on what the deputies find.” He stared down at the sleeping baby for a long moment, then pulled out his cell phone. “Excuse me while I make a few calls. Please make yourself at home.”
At home? She found the log cabin beautiful and cozy, but she wasn’t comfortable in this level of luxury.
A cot and a small kitchen attached to the clinic was her home.
Micah woke up and began to cry, interrupting her thoughts. Garrett moved farther away from the baby while still on the phone. Liz quickly unbuckled the baby and lifted him into her arms.
“Shh, little one. It’s okay. You’re fine.” She cradled the baby close, holding his head against the V in her neckline to enhance skin-to-skin contact.
He snuggled against her, melting her heart. She would do whatever was necessary to keep the child safe.
Should she take him to the closest hospital? Hand him over to a social worker who could take care of getting him placed in foster care? That may be the safest approach.
“Thanks, Wyatt.” Having ended his call, Garrett returned to the kitchen as he pocketed his phone. He seemed confused as to why she was standing there. “Do you need something?”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you have any intention of keeping your son?”
His eyes widened as if she’d slapped him, and he took a step back. “I—uh, yeah. I just don’t have much experience with babies.”
“You won’t learn if you refuse to hold him.” She walked toward him, pinning him with a narrow gaze. “Take your son, Garrett. He needs to find comfort in your arms, too.”
“I—Okay.” He took the baby from her arms and cradled him to his chest, much the way she had. The infant rested against him, falling back to sleep within seconds.
“You need to bond with him,” she said in a low voice. “He’s already lost his mother. He can’t lose his father, too.”
A pained expression crossed his features. “How am I going to raise a baby? I can’t stay home with him twenty-four seven.”
She curled her fingers into fists, trying not to lash out at him. A baby wasn’t a nuisance. She would have given anything to have Willow alive and in her arms. “Babies are a gift from God, Garrett. If you don’t keep him, he’ll end up in foster care. Is that what you want?”
“No, but...” His voice trailed off.
She squelched a flash of annoyance. “I’m sure you can get a leave of absence from work until you can make childcare arrangements.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I can do that.” He sounded more sure of himself now. “But I still need to understand the source of the danger.” He met her gaze head-on. “And for that, I need your help.”
Her help? She wanted to flat-out refuse, but the way Micah slept against Garrett’s shoulder gave her pause. He obviously couldn’t fight a gunman with a baby in his arms.
Didn’t she owe this much to Rebecca? The woman whose life she’d failed to save?
Yes. Because if something terrible happened to Micah, she would never forgive herself.
* * *
Garrett needed to get to work, try to figure out what Rebecca had gotten herself tangled up in—but he couldn’t tear his gaze from his son.
At one time, he would have thought God was sending him a clear message, but he wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with Him at the moment.
God should never have let Jason die. The twenty-five-year-old officer had been on the force for just over three years.
He’d been so young. Too young to die. If only he hadn’t sent Jason to the scene first. If only he’d gotten there sooner. If only...
Garrett gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t afford to wallow in a pool of self-pity. Not over Jason’s death or the unexpected arrival of his son.
Liz was right about one thing: babies were a precious gift. He hadn’t known about Micah—or why Rebecca had kept the news a secret—but as the baby slept with his face pressed into the side of his neck, he was struck by an unexpected wave of love.
“Rebecca named him Micah?”
“Yes.” Liz gestured to the diaper bag. “I have birth certificate forms that need to be filled out. Rebecca didn’t give me her last name, and I didn’t see a purse or ID when she staggered into the clinic, either. Since she didn’t give Micah a middle name, you can choose that one.”
Birth certificate. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I’d like to name him Micah John Nichols. John is my middle name.”
“That sounds perfect.” She dug inside the bag and pulled out the paperwork.
Somehow, documenting the information on legal forms made it all the more real. There were so many things he’d need to do—to buy—but that would have to wait.
His phone rang. Holding Micah to his chest with one hand, he pulled out the device with the other. After seeing Wyatt’s name on the screen, he answered quickly. “Wyatt? Please tell me you found the shooter.”
“Sorry, boss, not yet. We have all deputies on alert, though. We scoured the parking lot and found a slug imbedded in the front of a blue sedan. We also found several shell casings. One looks to be from your gun.”
“It probably is.” He glanced at Liz. “What caliber is the other shell casing from?”
“A .45. We’re getting it tested for possible fingerprints.”
Garrett knew better than to count on the shooter making a rookie mistake. “Is the blue sedan drivable?”
Liz snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes wide. “My car?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“I’m afraid not. One bullet struck the radiator. There may be other engine damage, too. I’m no expert.”
“Okay, do me a favor and call the garage. Have the sedan towed there to be repaired. I’ll pay for the damage.” He watched Liz sink into the closest kitchen chair as if devastated by the news. And really, he couldn’t blame her. None of this was her fault. All she’d done was help deliver a baby.
“Will do. Anything else, boss?” Wyatt asked.
“Just keep an eye out for the shooter.”
“We will—but keep in mind that finding someone who looks out of place among the crush of tourists roaming around will be impossible.”
“I know.” Their small department was over taxed during the peak tourist season, when those who came to visit their beautiful lakes often misbehaved. It was the main reason he’d intended to wait until fall to quit.
Now that he had Micah to consider, he realized that resigning from his position was no longer an option. How had his life gotten so complicated, so fast? “Just do your best.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“I don’t know.” Liz glanced back down at the baby in her arms. “She couldn’t tell me much, other than to bring the baby to you so you would keep him safe.”
“‘Safe’? From the perp who shot her?”
“I assume so.” Liz took the bottle from the baby’s mouth and turned to rest him upright on her shoulder. She smoothed her hand in circles along the baby’s back. “I was hoping you would know more.”
“I don’t.” None of it made any sense. Rebecca knew he was a deputy; why wouldn’t she have come to him sooner if she was in danger? He began to doubt this woman’s story. “Why would Rebecca show up at your clinic with a gunshot wound?”
“Good question.” She turned the baby back in her arms, gazing down at his sleeping face for a long moment before she looked up at him. “I wish I could tell you more, but honestly, her arrival was a complete shock. Most of my clients are poor, either from the reservation or referred to me because of the free services I provide. Rebecca was dressed in top-notch maternity clothes. She’d had her hair done and beautifully painted nails. Not like my usual clientele.”
Yeah, that sounded like Rebecca.
“I’ve never had a pregnant woman suffering a gunshot wound show up like that,” Liz continued. “But on my way here, I saw a Cadillac along the side of the road, about two miles from my clinic. I didn’t stop to investigate because I was too scared to risk placing Micah in harm’s way.”
“We’ll go there now.” He stood. “I need you to show me the way.”
“My clinic is sixty miles from here,” she warned. “Although I do have to go home that way, I guess.” She rose to her feet and offered the baby. “Don’t you want to hold your son?”
His son. Garrett felt as if he’d been jettisoned into outer space. Was he dreaming? As Liz gently pressed the baby into his arms, he knew he wasn’t.
“Micah,” he whispered, his heart squeezing in his chest. Ten minutes ago, he hadn’t known about his son.
Now he found himself wondering what he was going to do with a new baby. This—He wasn’t prepared for this!
“I can give you some of my supplies until you can shop for your own things,” Liz said, as if reading his mind.
Her offer was another punch to the gut. He didn’t have anything at his place for taking care of a baby. And he didn’t have a clue what that all entailed.
“Please take him.” He couldn’t hide the desperation in his tone as he placed Micah back in her arms. “Let’s go. I need to see Rebecca’s car. There must be some explanation for what happened. A clue of some sort, to figure out what she meant by keeping Micah safe.”
“Okay.” She gave him an odd look but didn’t argue. He took a moment to shut down his computer, then waited for her to secure Micah in his infant car seat. He noticed a small white stuffed bunny was tucked next to the baby. When she finished, she slung the diaper bag over her shoulder.
When he reached for the handle of the baby carrier, she smiled in approval. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d only done that because he knew how heavy it was.
Not because Micah was his son.
His. Son.
There was no reason to believe Liz was lying to him. Why would she? But the entire situation sounded too bizarre to be real.
He was having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that the night Rebecca had comforted him after Jason’s death had resulted in her giving birth to a son. His son. Without her telling him. That was the part he really struggled with.
“Are you sure Rebecca said the baby was mine?” He held the door open for Liz, then took a moment to lock it behind him. “Maybe she just wanted me to keep him safe.”
“I’m positive she said you were Micah’s father.” There was no hesitation in her statement.
“What else did she say?” He led the way around the building to the parking lot. The hour was past eight, and despite the warm July breeze, the sun had dropped below the horizon.
“She begged me not to call 911 because ‘he’ would find her and kill her.” Liz’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She was deathly afraid, Deputy Nichols. And the baby was already crowning, so I placed a pressure dressing over the gunshot wound, then quickly attended to the delivery. But I underestimated how much damage the bullet had caused. There was far too much bleeding into her chest cavity.” Her stricken gaze met his. “I—It was horrible. I’m so sorry. Maybe if I had called 911 right away, she’d still be alive.”
“I don’t blame you, Liz.” He could only imagine what she’d been through. “I’m sure that was a very difficult situation to be in.”
“One of the worst,” she admitted softly.
They had crossed the parking lot and were heading toward a small blue sedan he assumed was Liz’s car when the sound of a shoe scraping along the asphalt reached his ears.
Garrett whirled around, reaching for his gun. Holding on to the baby’s carrier slowed him down, and he was a second too late.
The crack of gunfire echoed through the night.
“Down! Get down!” He awkwardly held the carrier behind his back with one hand as he aimed and fired toward the shadow of a man crouched near one of the parked cars.
He missed, the bullet pinging off the side of the vehicle. Garrett hoped the gunfire would bring backup, but the parking lot remained quiet.
Too quiet.
Had the gunman left? No, he didn’t think so.
Another crack of gunfire confirmed his suspicion. Garrett placed himself between Liz and Micah as he returned fire.
The sound of running footsteps made him think backup had arrived. Then he saw the shadow of a man disappearing down the street. Every cell in his body wanted to give chase, but he didn’t dare leave Liz and Micah unprotected.
Apparently, Rebecca was right: Micah was in danger.
Too bad he had no idea who had come after his son.
TWO
Crouched behind Garrett, Liz had bent over Micah’s carrier, protecting the baby with her body. Her heart thundered in her chest as gunfire reverberated around them.
What in the world was going on? How had the gunman who’d shot Rebecca known to come here, to Green Lake?
And why would anyone want to hurt an innocent baby?
“We’re getting into my SUV, understand?” Garrett’s voice was clipped.
She tentatively lifted her head to look around. “Is he gone?”
“I think so.” Garrett’s grave expression could have been carved from stone. “I’ll need you to carry the baby so I can protect us if needed.”
The baby? Not his son? She frowned but did as he asked since she appreciated the fact that he’d needed his hands free. Seeing him holding the gun made her shiver.
Someone had shot at them! Being square in the middle of gunfire was difficult to comprehend. She straightened and picked up the carrier. Garrett urged her to step in front of him, guiding her to a black SUV not far from her sedan.
He unlocked the vehicle, then stood behind her as she secured the baby carrier, placing it in the car seat so the baby was facing backward. Then she set the diaper bag on the floor.
Garrett escorted her to the passenger seat, again protecting her with his body. Only once she was settled did he jog around to slide behind the wheel. Moments later, he quickly drove out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” She didn’t like leaving her sedan behind. “I need my car to get back to my clinic. I also use my vehicle to visit patients on the rez.” A horrible thought struck her. “Deputy Nichols? Do you think the gunman followed me here to Green Lake?”
“Call me Garrett.” He grimaced. “The perp may have followed you, but I don’t understand why he would wait to come after you and Micah outside our headquarters. Shooting at us near a police station wasn’t smart. Especially when he could have taken you both out on some section of deserted highway, where you wouldn’t be easily found.”
A chill snaked down her spine. “Thanks for that image.”
“Sorry.” He patted her hand. “I didn’t mean to sound callous, but I do think it’s odd the gunman attempted to shoot you here, right next to the sheriff’s department headquarters. And his aim was bad, too. The bullet only missed me by inches but didn’t come anywhere close to you or Micah.”
She frowned, not liking the idea of either of them being a target. Would the gunman kill her just because she’d delivered Micah? That didn’t seem logical. Then again, nothing about this situation made sense. “Okay, so where are we going?”
“My place.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, you and the baby will be safe there.”
Rubbing her temple, she strove to remain calm. Being targeted by gunfire had been terrifying. Garrett’s place would be safe, but she couldn’t just stay in Green Lake indefinitely. She had patients to care for.
Granted, not that many. The rez population had dwindled over the years, especially women of childbearing age. Young people didn’t stay on the reservation; they went out to make their way in the world. Still, she was determined to offer her services to pregnant women in need. Pregnant women of any background—Native American, African American, Hispanic or Caucasian. She welcomed them all.
Thankfully, word of mouth—especially from the Green Bay and Appleton areas—had helped bring women to her clinic. Each time she assisted in bringing a new child into the world, her burden felt a little lighter.
Her clinic was partially subsidized by the government, and by the reservation, but she barely made enough money to pay her meager bills. Liz didn’t mind. Tending to pregnant women was her calling. And it helped her deal with her own loss.
She was so encompassed with her thoughts that she hadn’t realized Garrett had pulled into the driveway of a log home, one that blended nicely against a wooded backdrop. Glancing back at the baby, she wondered if Garrett planned to keep and raise his son. Or if the little boy would end up in foster care.
It bothered her to think Garrett wouldn’t keep Micah. She pushed out of the passenger seat, then went around to unbuckle the baby carrier.
Garrett stood, sweeping his gaze around the area as she shouldered the diaper bag and then lifted the carrier out of the car. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the heavy carrier from her hand.
The baby continued to sleep as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Liz stepped over the threshold, greeted by the welcome scent of pine cleaner. The open-concept kitchen and living room were spotlessly clean. He was either a neat freak or had a cleaning service.
After setting the baby carrier on the kitchen table, he turned to look at her. “I have two guest rooms, but no crib or anything like that.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t expecting this. Rebecca never told me she was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She couldn’t help but wonder if Rebecca’s secret had resulted in her being shot. “Micah can sleep in the carrier for now, although a cradle would be better.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. It was late, going on nine o’clock. Getting back to Liberty would take an hour. “We’re not going to be here that long, are we?”
“Depends on what the deputies find.” He stared down at the sleeping baby for a long moment, then pulled out his cell phone. “Excuse me while I make a few calls. Please make yourself at home.”
At home? She found the log cabin beautiful and cozy, but she wasn’t comfortable in this level of luxury.
A cot and a small kitchen attached to the clinic was her home.
Micah woke up and began to cry, interrupting her thoughts. Garrett moved farther away from the baby while still on the phone. Liz quickly unbuckled the baby and lifted him into her arms.
“Shh, little one. It’s okay. You’re fine.” She cradled the baby close, holding his head against the V in her neckline to enhance skin-to-skin contact.
He snuggled against her, melting her heart. She would do whatever was necessary to keep the child safe.
Should she take him to the closest hospital? Hand him over to a social worker who could take care of getting him placed in foster care? That may be the safest approach.
“Thanks, Wyatt.” Having ended his call, Garrett returned to the kitchen as he pocketed his phone. He seemed confused as to why she was standing there. “Do you need something?”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you have any intention of keeping your son?”
His eyes widened as if she’d slapped him, and he took a step back. “I—uh, yeah. I just don’t have much experience with babies.”
“You won’t learn if you refuse to hold him.” She walked toward him, pinning him with a narrow gaze. “Take your son, Garrett. He needs to find comfort in your arms, too.”
“I—Okay.” He took the baby from her arms and cradled him to his chest, much the way she had. The infant rested against him, falling back to sleep within seconds.
“You need to bond with him,” she said in a low voice. “He’s already lost his mother. He can’t lose his father, too.”
A pained expression crossed his features. “How am I going to raise a baby? I can’t stay home with him twenty-four seven.”
She curled her fingers into fists, trying not to lash out at him. A baby wasn’t a nuisance. She would have given anything to have Willow alive and in her arms. “Babies are a gift from God, Garrett. If you don’t keep him, he’ll end up in foster care. Is that what you want?”
“No, but...” His voice trailed off.
She squelched a flash of annoyance. “I’m sure you can get a leave of absence from work until you can make childcare arrangements.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I can do that.” He sounded more sure of himself now. “But I still need to understand the source of the danger.” He met her gaze head-on. “And for that, I need your help.”
Her help? She wanted to flat-out refuse, but the way Micah slept against Garrett’s shoulder gave her pause. He obviously couldn’t fight a gunman with a baby in his arms.
Didn’t she owe this much to Rebecca? The woman whose life she’d failed to save?
Yes. Because if something terrible happened to Micah, she would never forgive herself.
* * *
Garrett needed to get to work, try to figure out what Rebecca had gotten herself tangled up in—but he couldn’t tear his gaze from his son.
At one time, he would have thought God was sending him a clear message, but he wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with Him at the moment.
God should never have let Jason die. The twenty-five-year-old officer had been on the force for just over three years.
He’d been so young. Too young to die. If only he hadn’t sent Jason to the scene first. If only he’d gotten there sooner. If only...
Garrett gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t afford to wallow in a pool of self-pity. Not over Jason’s death or the unexpected arrival of his son.
Liz was right about one thing: babies were a precious gift. He hadn’t known about Micah—or why Rebecca had kept the news a secret—but as the baby slept with his face pressed into the side of his neck, he was struck by an unexpected wave of love.
“Rebecca named him Micah?”
“Yes.” Liz gestured to the diaper bag. “I have birth certificate forms that need to be filled out. Rebecca didn’t give me her last name, and I didn’t see a purse or ID when she staggered into the clinic, either. Since she didn’t give Micah a middle name, you can choose that one.”
Birth certificate. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I’d like to name him Micah John Nichols. John is my middle name.”
“That sounds perfect.” She dug inside the bag and pulled out the paperwork.
Somehow, documenting the information on legal forms made it all the more real. There were so many things he’d need to do—to buy—but that would have to wait.
His phone rang. Holding Micah to his chest with one hand, he pulled out the device with the other. After seeing Wyatt’s name on the screen, he answered quickly. “Wyatt? Please tell me you found the shooter.”
“Sorry, boss, not yet. We have all deputies on alert, though. We scoured the parking lot and found a slug imbedded in the front of a blue sedan. We also found several shell casings. One looks to be from your gun.”
“It probably is.” He glanced at Liz. “What caliber is the other shell casing from?”
“A .45. We’re getting it tested for possible fingerprints.”
Garrett knew better than to count on the shooter making a rookie mistake. “Is the blue sedan drivable?”
Liz snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes wide. “My car?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“I’m afraid not. One bullet struck the radiator. There may be other engine damage, too. I’m no expert.”
“Okay, do me a favor and call the garage. Have the sedan towed there to be repaired. I’ll pay for the damage.” He watched Liz sink into the closest kitchen chair as if devastated by the news. And really, he couldn’t blame her. None of this was her fault. All she’d done was help deliver a baby.
“Will do. Anything else, boss?” Wyatt asked.
“Just keep an eye out for the shooter.”
“We will—but keep in mind that finding someone who looks out of place among the crush of tourists roaming around will be impossible.”
“I know.” Their small department was over taxed during the peak tourist season, when those who came to visit their beautiful lakes often misbehaved. It was the main reason he’d intended to wait until fall to quit.
Now that he had Micah to consider, he realized that resigning from his position was no longer an option. How had his life gotten so complicated, so fast? “Just do your best.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
