Cradle and All (8 page)

Five minutes later the doorbell rang again. It was beginning to look like Tom was on call twenty-four hours a day. Anne rose again, balancing Tommy on her hip as she padded to the door in her stocking feet.

Martha Dorn stood on the doorstep. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see Anne. “Is Father Tom free?” Martha asked.

“He had to go out on a call,” Anne explained. “Is there a message I can give him?”

“We just heard about the car accident,” Martha said. “That poor young woman. Was she really the mother of that sweet baby?”

Anne was stunned at how fast the news had traveled. The FBI’s information-gathering techniques did not hold a candle to those of Cooper’s Corner’s. When Hunter started asking questions around the village, he would quickly connect the baby with Lindy.

Anne made a mental note to warn Tom.

“I’ll be happy to take care of Tommy for the next couple of hours,” Martha offered.

“I’ve got it covered tonight, Martha,” Anne said. “Will you let the other ladies know?”

Martha positively beamed. She placed her hand on Anne’s arm and gave it a companionable squeeze. “I’d be delighted to, dear.”

Once she’d said good-night to Martha, Anne closed the door. She returned to the study and settled back on the sofa, with Tommy in her lap. That look on Martha’s face made her uncomfortable.

Her own fault, she knew. But she hoped she had stopped the flow of all the well-meaning women in the village tonight. She didn’t relish getting up to answer the doorbell again, and disturbing the baby. He was snuggled and yawning in her lap.

And no wonder, after no sleep the night before. Poor little guy. She was yawning herself.

If Tom weren’t back in an hour or so, she’d leave him a note and take the baby with her to Twin Oaks.

* * *

T
OM
WALKED
INTO
his study a couple of hours later, his thoughts heavy. But when he caught sight of Anne and Tommy on his sofa, his heart lightened and his lips drew back in a smile.

Anne lay on her back, her thick bangs and eyelashes casting deep golden shadows across her cheeks, her skin as delicate as a snowflake in the dying glow of the wood stove. The baby lay on his tummy across her chest. They were both sound asleep.

Tom stood watching them silently for several minutes until their image was so firmly fixed in his mind that he knew he would never be able to enter this room again without remembering them there—and smiling.

How different things would be if only Anne were Tommy’s mother!

Still, as hard as it was to accept sometimes, Tom knew everything happened the way it did for a reason. He just had to do the right thing and have faith that a higher power would take care of the rest.

He opened the door to the wood stove and added several thick logs to the burning embers, then slipped off his shoes and sat on the lounge chair across from Anne and Tommy.

The rain that had started as a sprinkle on his drive home now beat a heavy staccato on the roof. It was barely nine. There was time. He could let them sleep. When she woke, he’d drive her back to Twin Oaks. Not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do.

Still, it felt right having her here. He’d never imagined himself falling for a judge. But there it was. Beyond any rational analysis and all possible doubt, he knew he was falling for Anne.

How it could work between them, he had no idea. He just knew that it was up to him to convince her that it could, and would.

Tom leaned back into the soft cushions of the chair, smiling at her lovely face as she lay sleeping so soundly across from him in the dark room. He wondered what she would say if she knew of his plans.

Probably something witty and wildly irreverent. He grinned as he stretched back in the chair and contemplated the possibility of waking her with a soft kiss. Would she return it or punch him in the jaw? Maybe he should try it and find out.

The next thing Tom knew, he was opening his eyes to morning sunlight streaming through the windows. He shot upright and looked at the sofa. It was empty.

Anne had left and taken the baby.

Disappointment whipped through him. Until he heard the shower running. Tom smiled as he made a beeline for the bedroom.

* * *

A
NNE
STOOD
UNDER
the shower, letting the spray of warm water cascade over her and the baby. Tommy giggled in her arms.

“Like that, do you?” she asked, smiling into his face.

She rocked him like a football under the spray so he could feel the tingling sensation all over his body, and he giggled some more. It was such a delightful sound that she found herself giggling, as well. She was beginning to understand why parents mimicked their babies. A baby’s delight in the simplest things was contagious.

She wasn’t thinking about the rocking motion drawing her breast close to the baby’s mouth until Tommy suddenly clutched her breast and latched on to her nipple.

Anne stopped rocking and became still, stunned and utterly spellbound as she felt the baby become such an intimate part of her. Something so familiar and compelling it felt like a genetic memory burrowed warmly inside her. And then the sensation from the baby’s eager mouth and strong suction on her sensitive nipple shot through her breast.

“Ouch. Hold on there, little fella.”

Gently inserting the tip of her finger into the corner of the baby’s mouth, she rubbed his gums until he released her.

Tommy was not pleased and let out a howl to let her know.

Anne rocked him against her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Really I am. But I don’t have any milk to give you.”

He stopped crying after a moment and Anne switched off the shower. She gave him an extra hug before she stepped out onto the bath mat and grabbed a towel to wrap the baby in.

Tom’s white terry-cloth bathrobe was hanging on the door hook. As soon as she slipped into it, she found it had that same woodsy scent as his bath soap. Of course, it dropped to her ankles and she had to roll back the long sleeves, but it would have to do. She opened the bathroom door.

And gave a sudden start when she came face-to-face with Tom.

He was leaning against the bedroom wall, blocking her way, arms crossed over his chest, looking rumpled and unshaven and just as sexy as hell.

He gave her an appreciative once-over, from the ends of her wet hair to her bare feet. “That bathrobe looks familiar.”

“You have keen powers of observation,” she said, determined to project a calm she did not feel. “I need a shirt.”

Tom shook his head with mock concern. “First you steal my bathrobe and now you want the shirt off my back?”

“I’d prefer a clean one out of the closet, thank you. Your son spit up his breakfast all over me and himself, and it seeped through my blouse.”

“I thought you weren’t going to feed him,” Tom stated.

He knew perfectly well she had done it for him. Annoying male satisfaction just oozed out of his pores.

“Well, since you were snoring away, someone had to,” Anne said, thrusting the towel-clad baby into his arms.

As Tom took the little boy, he flashed Anne a look that made her blood very warm. She forgot all about being annoyed with him.

“He giggled when I bathed him in the shower,” Anne said, aware of an odd note of pleasure in her voice as she stepped farther into the bedroom.

“Who wouldn’t?” Tom replied, the devil in his eyes as he plopped down on the bed with the baby.

Nervously Anne eyed her white lace panties and bra lying on the bed next to him.

“And his rash is gone,” she added, circling around the bed to make a grab for her underclothes.

Tom watched her slip them into the pocket of the bathrobe, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Summoning her most commanding tone, as she pointed toward the door. “Out of here.”

“Commandeers my bathroom. Steals my clothes. And now she’s kicking me out of my own bedroom,” he complained dramatically as he got up and carried the baby to the door. Tom stopped in the doorway to smile back at her. “It’s nice having you here, Anne.”

It wasn’t until he had left and closed the door behind him that Anne’s heartbeat started to approximate normal again. She realized that, for the first time, the baby hadn’t cried when she’d released him into his father’s hands.

Maybe Tommy didn’t need her anymore now that he was well. The thought should have been a welcome one. But somehow it left Anne with a hollow feeling.

She was getting too attached to the little guy. And to his father. That wasn’t smart. Tom hadn’t been forthcoming about his relationship to Lindy. A man who hid things he’d done was generally a man who had done the wrong things.

It was hard imagining Tom doing wrong. Mistakes, yes. He was human. Deliberate wrongs? That didn’t seem possible. He had too good a heart.

Anne slipped into her bra and panties and slacks and went to check on her blouse. She had hung it in the bathroom after washing it out. She felt it and found it still quite damp. It was going to take a couple of hours to dry.

She was definitely going to have to borrow a shirt.

Tom’s closet was surprisingly tidy for a bachelor, with shirts and slacks arranged in neat rows on hangers. She had found the bathroom spotless and the bedroom in perfect order, as well. An uncluttered space that spoke of an uncluttered life.

She supposed it fit a priest. But she wasn’t sure if it fitted Tom. Somehow, he seemed too complicated for such simple surroundings. There were no pictures or mementos anywhere, nothing at all personal. Where was the evidence of his past?

Anne took a dress shirt out of the closet and tried it on in front of the dresser mirror. The sleeves and shirttail were so long she looked comical.

She returned it to the closet and rooted around in the dresser for something else. She found a faded blue cotton T-shirt and tried it on. It was a little too snug for comfort, so she looked for something to wear over it. After selecting a sleeveless cardigan and pulling it on, she stood in front of the mirror once again.

The cardigan hid the snugness of the T-shirt, but it came to her knees. She slipped her hands into its pockets, trying to decide if she could pull it off. And found her hand coming into contact with a folded sheet of paper. Anne drew the paper out of the pocket and unfolded it. She read the rapid scrawl.

Tom,

I think someone’s following me. Have to leave Tommy with you until I can be sure. I’ve thought about what you said. I know you think giving him up is the right thing to do. But I can’t. I love him. And I love you.

Lindy

Anne had forgotten until this moment what Keegan had said about a note being left with the baby.

Was this what Tom had been hiding? That he had been pressuring Lindy to give up Tommy? Was he so afraid for his reputation?

Anne sank down on the bed. Of course, that had to be it. A priest needed respect from his congregation if he expected to remain their spiritual leader. Without that respect, he had nothing.

Despite whatever good deeds he might have done, Tom was bound to lose the respect of his parishioners if the facts of this situation were made known. Fathering a child out of wedlock. Refusing to commit to its mother. He might even be kicked out of the priesthood altogether.

But, still, how could Tom have asked the mother of his child to give up her baby?

Disappointment settled like a black cloud over Anne’s heart.

She never should have come to the church yesterday morning. She never should have held the baby. She never should have agreed to help. And she definitely never should have looked into Tom Christen’s warm blue eyes.

* * *

T
OM
GOT
A
DIAPER
on Tommy, fixed himself a cup of instant coffee and sat down to wait for Anne to get dressed. But drinking the coffee soon became out of the question.

Tommy appeared to have discovered that he had strength in his leg muscles, and he was trying them out for all he was worth.

Setting his coffee on the table, Tom supported the little guy while he bounced to his heart’s content. Not only wasn’t the child howling, he was cooing and actually seemed happy. Two major victories as far as Tom was concerned.

Even if his lap had suddenly become a trampoline.

“So, you’re feeling better, are you?” Tom asked, and wondered why the pitch of his voice had suddenly ascended to that of the cooing child’s.

As the baby bounced and gurgled and spit at him, Tom took the time to study his tiny features more closely.

Tommy’s head was very round and his ears were small and flat. In addition to his fair hair and big blue eyes, he had light-bronze skin, high cheekbones, a slender body and long legs.

All in all, a true credit to his genes. It rather amazed Tom that so much already showed in a body so small. The baby reached out and latched on to Tom’s nose. Tom smiled at the little bundle of energy in his arms.

“Was Lindy a bad mother?” Anne’s voice demanded from the entrance to the kitchen.

Tom twisted his head to look at her, surprised at her unexpected entrance and her out-of-the-blue question. Then he totally lost his train of thought when he saw that she was wearing one of his shrunken T-shirts. It hugged her slender waist and the fullness of her breasts like none of her tailored blouses had.

“Was she, Tom?” Anne persisted.

“Yes, uh, I mean no—I believe she tried to be good to Tommy,” Tom said, forcing himself to focus on her words. “Why do you ask?”

Anne studied him for a moment as though she were seeing him for the first time. Tom did not like the reassessing look on her face.

“It’s not important,” she said, but Tom knew with a certainty that it was.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Anne said as she made her way to the back door. “Word has gotten around the village about Lindy’s accident. Hunter is bound to find out about her connection to the baby when he starts asking questions.”

Tom had figured that was inevitable. But at the moment, he was more concerned with what was happening with Anne. “Where are you going?” he asked.