They pulled up in front of the orphanage. Liz recognized the three-story gray stone building from her previous visit. This time the skies were clear and there wasn’t any snow on the ground. A few flowers clung to the bushes by the front door and there was a large garden around back.
But Liz didn’t care about the foliage or even the weather. Her concern and apprehension faded as anticipation took its place. After five weeks, she was going to see Natasha again. How much had the baby changed and grown? Would it take long for them to bond?
She bounded out of the car and hurried up the steps. The Winstons were right behind her, trailed by Maggie.
Liz pushed open the front door and stepped into the large foyer. Several people stood in front of the main desk, but Liz’s eyes were drawn to the right, to the man leaning against a wall. When he saw her, David straightened and approached.
Her heart gave a little shimmy. Already breathless with anticipation at the thought of seeing her baby, Liz found herself even more light-headed at the sight of him. Apparently her body really couldn’t take too much excitement.
He walked up, smiled and kissed her cheek.
“Your eyes are glowing,” he told her. “Somehow I don’t think that’s all from seeing me.”
Man, did he look good. A dark suit, pale yellow shirt and a tie. The combination of success and power made her mouth water.
“Some of it is about you,” she said. “Some is about the baby.”
“If I have to come in second, I’ll accept the position if it’s in relationship to your daughter.”
Maggie walked up and joined them. Liz introduced the social worker to David.
“You’re part of the Logan family, aren’t you?” Maggie asked as she shook David’s hand. “I escorted your parents on their last trip to Russia. They’re both wonderful people.”
“Thank you,” David said.
“Miss Duncan?”
Liz turned toward the voice and saw a teenager hovering in the hallway. Slight, with long dark hair and big eyes, she was pretty, if too thin. Liz searched her memory for the name, then smiled.
“Sophia?”
The teenager nodded shyly, then ducked her head. “Yes. Hello.”
Her English was stiff and heavily accented, but amazingly clear. As Liz’s Russian consisted of da and nyet she wasn’t in a position to complain.
“You’re still here,” she said as she approached the girl, leaving David in Maggie’s well-manicured clutches. “I wasn’t sure you would be.”
Sophia shrugged. “I like to work with babies. They let me.”
“You’re an amazing volunteer.”
Liz had met Sophia on her last visit. The teenager showed up every day to help out with the babies. Liz hadn’t been able to learn much about her family. Maggie said the staff suspected she was an orphan herself and made her welcome. No one knew where she went each night or how she supported herself, but she was brilliant with the children and the orphanage needed all the help it could get.
“How is Natasha?” Liz asked.
“Good. Big.” Sophia smiled. “She makes noise.”
Liz’s heart clenched. “Like she’s trying to talk?”
The teenager nodded. “Many children were sick, but not Natasha. She is strong. She—”
Sophia caught sight of David approaching and froze. Liz quickly introduced the two, mentioning that David worked at the United States embassy.
Sophia relaxed a little when he greeted her in Russian. Liz sighed. If she’d known she would one day adopt a Russian baby, she would have paid more attention when her nana had tried to teach her the language.
“Ready?” Maggie asked.
Liz nodded and the social worker led her toward the nursery.
The babies were kept on the second floor. Cribs filled three large rooms with big windows that let sunlight rain onto the scarred but clean hardwood floors. Stacks of diapers and other supplies lined the walls. In the cribs some babies were sleeping, while others cried. On the other side of the hallway were the playrooms where the staff and volunteers interacted with the babies, a few at a time. But there was never enough staff or resources.
Liz followed Maggie into the middle room, then down the center aisle to the last crib on the right. Liz’s heart beat faster and faster until she wondered if it would simply take flight. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, not when she saw a dark-haired baby happily staring up at a brightly colored mobile made up of carousel horses.
“Natasha,” she whispered as she stepped next to the crib and dropped her purse on the floor.
She smiled down at the big eyes, the chubby cheeks and perfectly shaped mouth.
“How’s my girl? How’s my very best little angel?”
Moving slowly so as not to startle the baby, she picked up Natasha and held her close. Her scent was as familiar as her face. Yes, she’d grown, but Liz would have recognized her anywhere.
“Natasha, I’m back. I told you I’d come back and here I am.”
She knew the baby couldn’t possibly understand or remember her, but Natasha didn’t squirm or complain. Instead she relaxed into Liz’s arms, as if sensing everything was going to be all right.
Liz heard footsteps. She turned and saw David and Sophia walking toward her. The teenager’s expression tightened slightly, as if she were uncomfortable.
Probably all this western emotion, Liz thought humorously. Strangers hugging babies as if their lives depended on the moment. No doubt the teenager thought they were odd.
“You’ve done wonderfully well with her,” Liz told her.
Sophia nodded, then slipped out of the room. David moved closer.
“So this is the lucky little girl who gets to go home with you,” he said lightly. “She’s a beauty.”
“I know. And she’s really smart.”
He grinned. “You can tell that how?”
“Instinct.”
Liz laughed as she spoke. David glanced from her to the baby she held. He didn’t know much about kids, and this one pretty much looked like all the others he’d seen. What made her special was the love in Liz’s eyes.
He hadn’t been able to figure out the adoption angle. Liz was young, healthy—why wouldn’t she have a baby of her own? But now that he saw her with the infant, he knew she was already a goner. Whatever her reasons for coming here, she’d made the decision to fall for Natasha.
Was that what happened with an adoption? Did the parents make a conscious decision to open their hearts to the children? He’d never considered the relationship in those terms—that it was love by choice. Is that what had happened with the Logans when they had adopted him and his sister?
“I’m shaking,” Liz said, then grinned. “I know, I know. You think I’m crazy.”
“No. I think Natasha is a very lucky little girl. You love her with your whole heart. I can tell.”
“Really?” Liz beamed