The instant she heard the words foster care, Daphne had loomed large on her radar, far larger than her poor cousin. Diane simply could not let that darling baby go to strangers, and the social worker also pointed out that MaryJo was too mentally ill to legally put the child up for adoption.
Adoption?
There wasn’t even a father to turn to. Whoever he’d been, he was apparently long gone.
Adoption? No.
The last days had turned into a whirlwind of packing, signing papers, gaining permission to take the child to her new job, getting baby supplies and a travel bed—oh, yeah, and a car seat—then Daphne had been delivered into her care.
Diane had never doubted that this was right thing to do, but it had all landed on her like a train wreck, and she was still figuring out how to handle everything. Most especially how to care for the baby. She didn’t have siblings, and she’d never watched anyone else’s kids because she’d been too busy with an after-school job at a local law office. What did she know about kids?
Only that she couldn’t let Daphne wind up in the foster care system. And part of her problem, as she’d discovered since she’d arrived in town two days ago, was that she didn’t want to leave the baby in anyone else’s hands, either. Most day care around here was in-home. The one early-learning center didn’t have an opening. Her reluctance to trust someone else with the baby’s care was likely to become a big issue.
So here she was, her first day on the job, with a baby. Yeah, she expected trouble, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t have begun to explain why she cared so much about a baby she’d only had for a few days, or why she was feeling so reluctant to put her in a stranger’s care while she worked.
Yet a stranger had just diapered Daphne with practiced ease and was now pacing slowly with the sleeping girl on his shoulder. Daphne was still tiny at three months, but Blaine Harrigan made her look minuscule.
He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved khaki work shirt and jeans. The last place she had worked, a polo shirt and slacks was as informal as it got. Apparently things were different here. He certainly looked like a man ready to work hard, a sharp contrast to the way he handled Daphne: easily, gently, yet confidently. She envied that confidence. She wished she could siphon off a gallon of it and put it in her veins.
Well, she’d get there eventually. She’d learned everything else she’d needed to in life. Usually. God, she hoped she wasn’t kidding herself and running headlong into a big failure.
“Are you looking forward to this job?” he asked her.
For the first time, she realized that his voice seemed to resonate from deep within his chest, below baritone but maybe not quite bass? An interesting, slightly rough sound. “I think so, yes. I know I was before life got out of hand.”
He smiled faintly. “This little one, you mean? Ah, she won’t be any trouble now. I was wondering, you worked in a larger city before. Why come to a small town?”
“The challenge,” she said. “An outdated comprehensive plan that needs to be rewritten, and that covers an entire county. I’ll have a lot of input. I’ve always wanted that.”
He hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but then resumed his gentle pacing, rubbing Daphne’s back all the while. “Did you visit first?”
“Of course. I came out for the interview. I’m surprised I didn’t meet you then.” And she was. They’d have to work closely together. She began to wonder how this place functioned.
“I was on vacation. I didn’t hear a thing about you until I got back.”
Okay, that was strange, she thought. Given his position, he should have had some say in her hiring. For the first time, she felt uneasiness about the job itself. Was there something going on here? But she couldn’t ask Harrigan, because he worked here, too. Until she had a read on everyone involved, asking questions could be dangerous. Wisdom dictated that she keep everything on a professional level.
Although that was already a limit she had broken, considering her infant cousin was riding on the shoulder of the county engineer. Very professional. Under other circumstances, she might have been amused. Starting a new job, not so much.
Then, for the first time, she really saw his face. Looked at it and took it in, and felt her stomach flutter. Dark, nearly black hair with blue eyes so bright the color was arresting. The rest of that face was great, too, squarish, a good chin, with fair, unblemished skin. His last name suggested he was Irish, as did a few hints in his pronunciation. He couldn’t have left the isle very long ago, she thought. Western sun and wind hadn’t kissed him for long.
Fortunately, Daphne made a small sound, drawing Diane’s attention before she stared at Blaine too long. Somebody should have warned her that a man holding an infant was more irresistible than one standing solo. She never would have dreamed. She watched as he pulled a visitor’s chair back from her desk and slowly lowered himself into it. The chair was springy, and he rocked gently.
Then she felt embarrassed. “Would you like me to take her back?”
He smiled over the baby’s head. “It’s been a while since I held a baby. I’m liking it.”
She felt her mouth frame a smile in return. She had to admit that this early into her new role as a mother, she was glad of a brief break. She’d had no idea that her patience wasn’t infinite, that she’d be losing a lot of sleep and that she could get frazzled by a baby’s persistent crying.
The new character insights didn’t exactly make her feel proud. Now she not only needed to deal with a job and the baby, but she needed to deal with herself, as well.
“So what brought you here, Blaine? I’m assuming you didn’t grow up here.” An assumption based on those faint traces of an accent.
“No, I grew up in Ireland, I did. Galway. I’m liking it quite a bit here, but missing my family.”
“You said a big family?”
“I’m one of six. The eldest.”
“That’s a big family,” she agreed.
He leaned back a little farther and crossed his legs loosely. Tight denim left no doubt that his lower half was built as well as his top half. Diane swallowed and dragged her gaze away.
After a bit, he spoke again. “You look tired. Not sleeping well?”
Finally she felt a bubble of real amusement, for the first time in days. She’d begun to wonder if she still had a sense of humor. “What do you think?” An attempted joke that might have sounded like a challenge, but his demeanor didn’t change. God, was she going to have to watch her tongue now, as well? Somehow she needed to get more sleep.
He nodded. “Babies are hard at first. It does get better, though. Just snatch your sleep whenever you can. So has anyone primed you for how things run around here?”
She sat up a little, fatigue forgotten. “What do I need to know?”
“Only that members of the city council and the county commission make up the county planning board. Two hats, you might say.”
She wanted to drop her head into her hands. In an instant she began to envision a skein of tangled relationships all knotted up with ego and personal aims. No real control on them at all, except for when they might get angry at one another. Why had they even wanted a planning manager?
Oh, yeah.