And she loved them for it. And for countless other reasons. If this baby did turn out to be a Maitland, her feelings wouldn’t change. There would just be one more child to love.
With affection, she terminated the banter. “We’ll discuss the abilities of the copy machine and your sister’s lack of shadow later. Abby, go.” Shooing her off, Megan turned to the remaining duo in the spacious office. She wanted to adjourn to her own office, where she had faced her toughest decisions, had had her finest triumphs. She felt secure there. “R.J., Ellie, come.”
Abby raised a brow and glanced toward her sister. “Ever notice how she treats the kids like dogs?”
“Go,” Megan repeated.
Abby hurried off.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Dana’s question met Abby the moment she walked out of R.J.’s office.
“I’m not really sure,” Abby confessed. Dana Dillinger was one of her closest friends and she didn’t feel right about brushing her off, but she was really running behind now. “Get R.J. to tell you.”
Dana shook her head and sighed. “As if R.J. could ever share anything but reports and schedules with me.”
Abby raced out the door and hurried to the elevator banks, nodding at several people she knew. Mercifully, the elevator was empty. She got in and quickly pressed the button. Only once the doors had slid closed again did she glance at the baby in her arms.
The eyes were blue, as were those of most infants, and opened wide, as if he were drinking in the entire world around him and storing it up for future reference. Abby felt a tug in her heart, the way she did with each child she held in her arms.
“So, am I really your aunt Abby, or is this just some kind of a hoax?” In response, the baby squirmed. “No offense, little guy, but I really hope it’s a hoax. Not that I wouldn’t mind having you in the family, you understand, but…”
The squirming was followed by a gurgling sound a moment before the infant turned an extreme shade of beet red. A second later, a distinct odor began to rise from the vicinity of his tiny bottom.
How could anything so small smell so bad? she wondered.
“Okay, be that way,” Abby murmured, shifting the baby. This was going to mean a little extra work for Katie, she thought. As if the pediatric nurse didn’t already have enough to do…
DROPPING THE CHART Ford had just given her into the To Be Filed pile, already four deep at nine-thirty in the morning, pediatric nurse Katie Topper turned when she heard the private entrance door opening. She flashed a quick smile when she saw who it was. Then a small furrow formed between her brows when she noticed the baby.
“Abby, what’s up?”
Like Dana, Katie was one of Abby’s closest friends. But if she’d had no time to fill Dana in, she had even less time now. Her mother’s unintentional ambush had cost her more than half an hour. The way her luck was running, she’d probably be called away for a multiple birth on her way back down.
“Got a new patient for Ford to check out.” Abby glanced toward the reception area. There were only three patients waiting their turn with the pediatric surgeon. “Mother’s orders.”
Katie glanced behind Abby, expecting to see another woman entering. “Where is the baby’s mother?”
An involuntary sigh escaped her lips. Abby looked at the infant. “That’s the 64,000-dollar question.”
“But you just said—” Katie began.
“My mother,” Abby clarified. “She wants Ford to check him out as soon as possible.”
The request was unusual. “What’s wrong with him?” Katie sniffed the air. “Other than the obvious. Did you have to bring me a ripe one?”
“Sorry.” Abby laughed. “And to answer your other question—nothing, I hope.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Katie said. She reached for an empty folder. “So, what name do I put on the chart?”
“This—” Abby held the infant up “—is Baby X.”
Katie put down her pen and looked at Abby. “Is this some kind of a joke?”
R.J.’s words, Abby thought. “I wish. Someone just dropped him off on our doorstep. Classic note pinned to the blanket and everything. All that was missing was snow and a heart-wrenching musical score.” She shook her head. It wasn’t the baby’s fault, but that didn’t change anything. “The press is going to have a field day.”
Katie took the baby from her. “The press?”
Abby nodded. “They were there for Mother’s announcement about the clinic’s twenty-fifth anniversary celebration. They liked this story better.” She glanced toward the door leading to the first examining room. It was closed. “Tell Ford I’ll be by as soon as I can manage.”
Katie shifted the baby to her other arm. The outer door buzzed softly, announcing another patient. “What do we do with Baby X until then?”
Abby paused in the doorway, one hand on the knob. “See if you can get him to talk.” With that, she hurried away.
THE DARKNESS ABOUT HER lifted slowly, like a heavy curtain being drawn away. A dull, persistent ache came to fill its place, and it felt as if there was something inching down her forehead just above her brow.
With fingers that didn’t quite feel as if they belonged to her, she touched the spot on her head. A stickiness registered. She looked at her fingers.
Blood.
Her blood.
Why?
She gazed around slowly. The ache wouldn’t allow her to move quickly. She was on the ground, in an alley of some sort, and it was daylight.
Relying on shaky limbs, she managed to rise to her feet. As she did so, she became aware of another sensation.
Her arms felt empty. As if she had been holding something that was gone now.
But what?
Dazed, confused, she looked down at them, trying to remember what it was she’d lost.
Trying to remember anything at all.
But there was nothing but a huge void.
She couldn’t remember.
Anything.
A noise caught her attention. Like a magnet of hope, it drew her around.
There was a man standing at the end of the alley. A man dressed in blue. A policeman.
He looked at her uncertainly, stepping forward. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
A sob caught in her throat as she made her way toward him. “Yes.”
Suddenly the world began to shimmer. Spinning, it retreated from her until there was nothing left but a tiny opening for the light to squeeze through. And then, even that was gone.
Boneless, she fell to the ground.
CHAPTER TWO
KYLE MCDERMOTT SHIFTED in his chair. He’d lost count of how many times now. Had he been wearing the jeans he so rarely put on these days, he would have rested his ankle across his thigh. But that wouldn’t fit, given the three-piece suit he was wearing. Besides, it would somehow seem disrespectful to the other occupants of the room, most of whom looked as if they hadn’t been truly comfortable in months.
He glanced at his sister. He knew that Marcie had been uncomfortable for a while now. She was the reason he was here, suffering and growing