Her frown grew.
“If you’re going to admit to committing one, don’t you want our relationship covered by attorney/client privilege?”
“What crime?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure,” he said. “Kidnapping’s the closest thing I can think of.”
“I didn’t kidnap her. She was left on my doorstep.”
“Like I said, I don’t know specifically what law you’re breaking, but I’m confident that it’s illegal to find someone’s baby and just keep it. Am I right in guessing that’s your plan?”
“That’s what I want you to do. Tell me how to keep her. Legally,” she added.
“You found her this morning?” he asked, scowling as he ran a hand through his thick dark hair.
“Yes.”
“And you know you want to keep her? Some stranger’s baby? A baby you can’t be sure doesn’t have something wrong with her? Do you want her if she’s a crack baby or has AIDS or something?”
She looked at the child and silently prayed that she was healthy and normal. But even if she wasn’t perfect, it didn’t make a difference. It was something Lori hadn’t thought of, but she’d take care of the tiny child, she thought fiercely. “Yes,” she said again.
“What if the mother should change her—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, impatiently interrupting him. Maybe if the lawyer would quit looking at her with that subtle glimmer in his gaze, she could concentrate. “I want to keep her.”
“Then, first things first.” He moved easily to the end table, his movements not hampered at all by the baby. “We’ll call the police, make a report and then we’ll start the process of getting you appointed as her foster parent or guardian.”
She moved faster than she had all day. “No.” Her fingers closed over his as he started to lift the phone. His startled look had her withdrawing her hand quickly.
The tiny child stirred against his chest and began the thing with her mouth again. The motion tugged at Lori, sucking out and exposing a vein of protectiveness she didn’t know lay under the thick skin she’d worked so hard to develop. Lori resisted the urge to touch the baby. She probably couldn’t do it without touching him again.
“As an officer of the court, I’m obligated to report criminal acts,” he said softly. “If you hadn’t retained me as your lawyer, I’d be reporting this abandoned child right now. And as your attorney that’s what I advise.”
An officer of the court. The very words set her on edge, stiffened her spine and made her move away from him. Money had never been as well spent as the check she’d just written. It bound him and defined him as her advocate. He couldn’t do anything contrary to her wishes.
“Do this right, Lori Warren,” he urged. “Report her to the authorities, then neither of us has to worry. I’ll do my utmost to guarantee you’re appointed her guardian.”
“That’s the problem. You can’t guarantee anything.” His brown eyes held steady on her, making her want to smooth her hair, rearrange her clothing. “Can you?” she tacked on the challenge.
“I’m very good at what I do.”
“Then I’m glad I hired you.” She had to be the one to break their visual connection. She focused on the baby. “But do you know where this baby would be right now if I’d called the police this morning?”
He frowned. “In foster care?”
She nodded. “By now maybe, but in the meantime, she would have spent the day being passed around frantic offices at the police station or social service agencies.”
“By now, she’d be in a home,” he said.
“With four or five other foster children and maybe an additional child or two of the family’s,” she said dryly. “lfiose are the kinds of places willing to take children in an emergency and at a moment’s notice like this.” She glanced at her watch. “And right about now, if the foster mother is any good, all of those children will be clamoring for her attention while the poor frazzled woman is trying to fix dinner.”
“And if she’s not a good foster parent?”
“The children are trying to stay out of the way and beneath anyone’s notice.” Lori made the mistake of looking at him again.
His brows lowered, matching the mouth that slanted in a concerned frown. “You’re speaking from experience? You’ve lived in foster homes?” They were questions but his voice said he knew the answer. His eyes darkened with sympathy.
She raised her chin a smidge. “I survived. The system made me strong.” She crossed the couple of feet that separated them and held out her empty arms. “That doesn’t mean it has to be that way for this little one. Not if I can help it,” she added determinedly as he handed the sleeping child over.
She tried to imitate the manner in which he’d cradled the helpless little girl—one-armed, between his neck and chest. She found herself leaning so far backward to compensate, she was afraid she’d pitch over. She gave up the attempt.
“Are you going to just keep calling her Baby or Little One?” he asked with an amused smile that turned into a thoughtful frown. “I’m surprised her mother didn’t give her a name in the note.”
Lori had been so busy trying to take care of the child, she hadn’t thought about it. Of course, the baby needed a name. She felt inadequate all over again. “Any suggestions?”
He lifted a shoulder. “The logical choice would be Jane,” he said. “That’s what the authorities would be calling her. As in Jane Doe? That’s what they call every female they don’t have a name for,” he added.
Jane Doe was as generic as Baby and reminded Lori of dead bodies in a TV movie. The thought validated Lori’s decision not to report her to anyone. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would call someone alive that. She shuddered. “I’m not calling her Baby Jane Doe.”
“Maybe Rose?” he suggested. “You know, like a Christmas rose. You found her blooming at your door?”
Lori peered at the child. Her nosed crinkled in the habitual response she’d been trying to break ever since one of her foster mothers had pointed out that the frown would eventually cause wrinkles. She commanded her face to relax. “She doesn’t look like a Rose to me.”
“I think it’s too early to tell,” Andy said.
She glanced at him to catch the smile in his voice. “A name does seem like such an important thing. I should have thought of it.”
He met her eyes in that direct way he had and his grin faded. “Whatever name you choose, it probably won’t stick,” he warned. He’d moved and was standing much too close. “In all likelihood—” he cleared his throat “—you are going to lose this child eventually, Lori. At least for a while. Are you certain you don’t want to call the police now? Before you get too attached?”
“It’s too late.” His logic grated at her practical side, the side she tried to use when dealing with life in general. Unfortunately, even that commonsense side of her had deserted her today. She felt much too sensitive, too tender. She felt herself going on the defensive. “I can handle it,” she said. “Besides, you are going to help me. You’re very good at what you do. Remember?”
“I remember.” He touched her cheek, then stiffened and dropped his hand to his side. “But I’d be a lousy lawyer if I didn’t advise you of the probabilities.”
“I know. And I do appreciate it.” The baby was an excellent excuse to move away from him, around him. “I think