“Yeah, I didn’t have time to do research this morning. I just bought everything. Too much?”
“I’ve been out of the country for a while. I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have choices and everything available right when you need it.” Her voice was soft, her eyes on the baby.
Garrett snuck a glance at her. Short dark brown hair prone to wave, long black eyelashes, pretty hazel eyes that looked just a bit wary. He flipped through the information in his mind that Wynn had shared with him about Abby. Licensed clinical social worker. Disaster relief overseas. Old friends. Wait—she got shot. That’s right. She was working in a Syrian refugee camp and somehow got shot.
He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m not usually so impulsive. Or maybe I am, I don’t know. Either way, I just remembered you got shot. I’m sorry. That must’ve been horrible.”
Abby made an attempt at a smile. “Yeah, it was pretty bad. I know all the things to do for people who experience traumatic events, but education only goes so far when you’re the one with the trauma.”
“I was pretty young when my parents were killed in a car accident, but I still remember what it was like to have that safety net pulled out from under me. If you ever want to talk, I’m a good listener.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything, just looked away.
Okay, then. Way to go, champ. Batting a thousand. “So what’s next? Maybe I should set up the porta-crib?”
Abby wrinkled her nose. “Actually, I think now might be a good time for Diaper Changing 101.”
Gingerly, he leaned forward and sniffed. “Oh, yeah. So what do I do first?”
“I laid out the changing pad and the wipes on the conference table.” Abby walked over to the table and, with her hand supporting Charlotte’s neck, laid the baby gently onto the mat. “Make sure you hold her head up if you’re not cradling her against you.”
“Support the neck. Got it.” Oh, surely he hadn’t been letting Charlotte’s head flop around all morning?
Abby stepped to the side and said, “The first thing you do is take off enough clothes so you can change her.”
“I think this is a see-one-do-one learning experience. I’ll just watch you this time.” Garrett mentally crossed his fingers.
“Sure, but you have to take her home with you tonight whether you know how to change a diaper or not.”
“You’re not nice.”
A laugh sputtered out. “Tactfully put. But I get it, it’s cool. You’ll probably be fine on your own.”
“Wait…that came out wrong. You’re obviously very nice.” He shot a grin at Abby and stepped up to the edge of the table. Beads of sweat formed across his forehead as he looked down at the baby, who stared at him with her fist in her mouth. Charlotte’s legs were no bigger than his thumb.
“You just have to go for it. She won’t break, I promise you.”
He could do this, no problem. He’d raised newborn goats and they’d survived. How different could it be? He tucked his fingers under the elastic band at Charlotte’s waist, and after a few minutes of wrangling, he managed to get the baby partially undressed. “Now what?”
“Slide the fresh diaper underneath but keep the dirty one under her until…” Abby’s voice trailed off as he pulled the soiled diaper out and got the clean one dirty.
“Oh. Oh, no.”
She didn’t say anything, just handed him another clean diaper. This time, he slid the clean one under and took the wipe she held out.
“Take two. No worries, Charlotte. We got this.” He held her feet up, took a swipe and gagged.
Beside him, Abby tried—and failed—to hide the fact that she was laughing at him.
“Hey, feel free to get in here and—” He made another pass at the mess. “Oh, this is awful. She’s so wiggly. Stop laughing, Abby.”
She held out another wipe. “Here, but be quick about it, or…”
He sighed, and without a word held out his hand for another diaper.
The giggle from Abby started him chuckling and before he knew it, he was laughing, but he got the diaper around the baby and fastened the tabs. When he looked up, he caught a glimpse of Abby’s smile and it stopped him in his tracks, made him want to dig deeper and find out what really made her tick.
As if his life wasn’t complicated enough.
So that was a big fat no. He was full up on lost causes. He’d tried to help Brooklyn—all that time spent as her law guardian and for what? He was caring for an abandoned baby—her baby—and she was nowhere to be found.
He was on lost cause number umpteen thousand forty-two. He didn’t have time for any more. Even one with pretty hazel eyes and a sharp sense of humor.
Brushing his fingers across the peach fuzz on Charlotte’s head, he picked her up. And the diaper he’d struggled to put on her slid halfway down her legs. “Umm…help?”
“Easy fix.” Abby laid the baby back down on the mat and deftly released and refastened the tabs before slipping the leggings back on bird-thin baby legs. “You did great. You just have to make the diaper tighter than you think.”
Garrett shook his head. “Not as easy as it looks. How’d you learn to do that?”
“I put myself through college being a nanny.” She lifted Charlotte and handed her back to Garrett. “Good to go. You’ll be a pro in no time.”
He cradled Charlotte in his arms and looked down at her little face. She was precious, with that dusting of strawberry-blond hair on her head and long blond eyelashes. And that whole ugly diaper business faded from his mind.
His heart squeezed.
Was he really going to be able to do this?
Abby picked up the diaper-changing paraphernalia and tucked it into the diaper bag, trying to ignore the warm feeling in her chest as she watched Garrett’s face soften. “So how does one end up being surprise guardian to an infant?”
He glanced up. “She was left on my doorstep this morning.”
“What?” Abby gaped at him. It sounded like something from the plot of a TV movie. “Do you know who left her there?”
He swayed back and forth as Charlotte’s eyelids fluttered closed. “Her mom is a former client. I was her law guardian when she was in foster care.”
“Maybe this is an obvious question, but how’d she know where you live? I’d guess that’s not something you share with your clients on a regular basis.”
“No. My brothers and I own a ranch and we have some horses and goats and cows. Last spring, we invited a bunch of foster families out for a picnic. Brooklyn was one of those.” He shrugged. “It seemed like such a small thing at the time.”
“It’s a nice thing. I wouldn’t second-guess it now.” She put her hand on his arm and his dark brown eyes darted up to meet hers. She swallowed hard. “So, um…she just left the baby on your porch?”
“She also left signed papers giving me custody—technically a delegation of parental authority—but I have no idea if that will stand up to scrutiny. To make matters more complicated, I’m a mandatory reporter. I can’t just pretend that a baby didn’t appear on my front porch. I have to report this to family services.”
His eyes were steady behind the lenses of his dark-rimmed glasses and Abby realized that momentary