“I’m Sylvia Foster.”
“Emma Robbins,” she said, extending her hand.
“My replacement.” Blue eyes twinkled good-naturedly.
“That’s my hope, but I’m happy just to have a second interview.” Emma hadn’t expected it. The doctor had seemed distant after they’d shaken hands.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s desperate. I gave him an ultimatum and it wasn’t easy. Breaks my heart to leave this baby. But...”
“He told me your first grandchild is due soon.”
“A boy,” Sylvia revealed, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so torn. I’ll miss Kyle terribly, but my three children are in Southern California, not to mention a sister and brother. My whole family is there.”
A little voice chattered unintelligible sounds behind her and she turned. On the gorgeous dark-wood entryway floor was the doctor’s son, crawling toward the open door as fast as he could.
The older woman tsked, although there was no scolding in the sound. “Kyle Flint, just where do you think you’re going?”
She started to bend and grab him as he scooted by her with every intention of getting outside. Emma squatted on the porch side of the low threshold and looked up at the older woman.
“It took a lot of energy for him to make a break for it. Would it be okay if he comes out just for a minute? A little reward to encourage his sense of exploration?”
“I like the way you think.” Sylvia nodded and watched the baby touch the slats separating his protected world from the unknown beyond.
He sat and slapped it a few times before going on all fours again and venturing out. Turning wide eyes, his father’s gray eyes, on Emma, he took her measure. Just as the doctor had done.
“Hi, cutie.” She let him look, get used to her. Overwhelming him with verbal, visual and tactile stimuli could be disconcerting to the little guy.
After several moments, he crawled outside and over to her, putting a chubby hand on her thigh. Then he boosted himself to a standing position.
“He’s pretty steady,” she observed. “Is he walking yet?”
“Not quite,” Sylvia confirmed. “He’s a little hesitant to take that first step.”
Emma knew how he felt. She had a family here in Blackwater Lake that she hadn’t known about until just before her “mother” died. The woman had confessed to kidnapping Emma as an infant from people who lived in this town. Shock didn’t begin to express how she’d felt at hearing the words, and she was still struggling to wrap her head around it all.
This trip to Montana was about her own personal exploration. She’d been in town for three and a half weeks, checked out the diner that her biological parents owned and managed. But she hadn’t taken the next step of telling them who she was. Everything would change for them and there’d be no going back. She wasn’t sure turning their world upside down all over again was the right thing to do. Observation showed that they’d found some sort of peace, and learning the truth might not be for the best.
The little boy slapped her jeans-clad leg and grinned as he took steps while barely holding on.
“Hey, buddy,” she crooned. “You’re a handsome little guy.”
“A heartbreaker in training, just like his father,” Sylvia said.
Emma wondered if Justin warned women away because he didn’t want to break hearts. He was a doctor, after all, a healer. Or maybe he really wasn’t looking for anyone because he was still grieving the wife he’d lost in a car accident. She’d checked him out on the internet and there was a lot of information on the celebrity plastic surgeon who’d given up fame and fortune due to shock and grief over losing the woman he’d loved.
An expensive silver SUV pulled up in front of the house and parked behind the little compact she’d rented at the airport nearly a hundred miles from Blackwater Lake. So the doctor was in. If this second interview went as she hoped, she’d have her car shipped from California and return the rental. The next few minutes would determine her course of action.
“Daddy’s home, Kyle.” Sylvia smiled at the baby and clapped her hands.
“Da—” he gurgled.
“Aren’t you smart,” Emma said.
She stood, gently holding the baby’s upper arm to keep him from falling. Bending, she held out her hand to see if he was willing to be picked up by a stranger. He smiled and bounced, holding out his arms.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said, lifting him up and cuddling him against her. “You’re a heavy boy.”
Justin got out of the car and walked toward them, then up the steps. A man who looked as tired as he did had no right to still be so handsome. His short dark hair was sticking up a little, as if he’d run his fingers through it more than once that day. Piercing gray eyes grew tender when he looked at his son. In that moment he was an open book and it was as if the hidden path to his soul were exposed. He could have been a troll, but the feelings so evident on his face made him nearly irresistible.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, stopping beside Emma. “There was an emergency.”
“Everything okay?” she asked, automatically swaying from side to side with the baby in her arms. Kyle had discovered the chain around her neck and the butterfly charm attached to it.
“A little girl had a run-in with broken glass.” The doctor’s eyes turned dark and intense when he looked at her holding his son.
“Is she okay?”
“I gave her my personal guarantee that when she’s wearing her high school cheerleader uniform, no one will ever know she had stitches in her knee when she was eight.”
“So you’re a hero,” Sylvia said.
“I wouldn’t say that, but if you’re passing out compliments...” He held out his arms. “Hey, buddy. Can I have a hug?”
The baby turned away and buried his face in Emma’s shoulder. Not her fault, but not how a father away at work all day wanted to be greeted by the child he clearly adored.
“Hey, sweetie, want to say hi to your dad?” She wouldn’t hand the boy over to his father until he was ready, or the doctor insisted.
“That’s not like him,” Sylvia commented. “Usually he crawls up and into your arms. I think he likes Emma. Seems very comfortable with her. Just my opinion as his primary caregiver, but you should hire her.”
“And that judgment has nothing to do with the fact that you’re about to leave me in the lurch.”
“You’re an evil man, Dr. Flint,” Sylvia teased. “I don’t have enough mother’s guilt, so you feel the need to pile on more?”
“Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat,” the older woman said good-naturedly.
“Let’s go inside.” Dr. Flint gave no hint about whether or not he was annoyed.
Emma followed the older woman into a big entryway with a circular table holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. Twin stairways on either side led to the second story. To the left was a large formal dining room with a dark, cherrywood table and eight matching chairs. Directly to the right was the living room with a striped sofa in rust, brown and beige. Two wing chairs in a floral print with coordinating colors were arranged in front of a raised-hearth fireplace.
As they walked toward the back of the house, the little boy wiggled to get down. Emma set him on his tush, making sure he was stable before straightening. He crawled over to his father and pulled himself up before strong arms grabbed him and held him close.
“Hey,