Huntington Family Series Page 32

  Should she?

  That was when Emily Jane started to cry. She didn’t scream and pound her fists, or even struggle to get down but simply laid her head on his shoulder and cried. Tears leaked from her wide, frightened eyes, and her tiny shoulders shook with sobs. “Momma,” he thought he heard her say but couldn’t be sure. Emily Jane was thirteen months old—at what age did babies begin talking?

  “Momma,” Emily Jane repeated, this time unmistakably. She held out her small hand in the direction of the street, opening and closing the fingers as though trying to motion someone closer.

  Mitch’s heart ached. “Oh, sweetie. Your mommy would be here if she could. Your daddy, too. They love you so much.” He rocked her as his own tears fell into her hair.

  Muffin sat on the porch staring up at them, as confused as Mitch himself. Slowly, Mitch entered his house and shut the door. As Emily Jane’s sobs grew weaker, he sat on the brown couch that had once graced the family room at his parents’ house. The baby lifted her head and stared at him with watery blue eyes.

  “I’m here,” Mitch told her. “I know that’s not good enough, but I’ll do my best. Everything will be okay. I promise.” Yet how could he ever do enough for this child who had lost everything?

  Emily Jane must have found what she needed in his face because she laid her head back on his shoulder, gave a shuddering sigh, and closed her eyes. His arms tightened instinctively. Every now and then her body shook with a stray sigh. After long moments, her regular breathing told him she was asleep. Mitch found his own eyes growing heavy.

  His stomach woke him shortly before noon, his neck and back aching from the unaccustomed position. Emily Jane still slept on his chest. The heat of tears had left her face, and she looked peaceful now. His heart swelled with the grim reality that awaited her upon waking, followed by an amazingly strong protective urge that left him both determined and breathless.

  He decided the first order of business was to get himself something to eat. Afterward, he’d call his family for backup. Or at least his sisters. Only now did he remember his parents were visiting friends in Arizona.

  Gently, he lowered the baby to the couch until she nestled with her back against the cushions. Then he sprinted to his room to find a pillow in case she rolled off. Thinking of his experiences with his nieces and nephews, he tried to remember what babies of her age could do, but his memories failed him. One of his sisters would know best—probably the oldest, Kerrianne, since she had three children, one a boy some months older than Emily Jane.

  “Come on, Muffin,” he called to the dog, sleeping in the middle of the carpet. He let Muffin out the back door, grabbed a blueberry bagel from the fridge, and went to find his cordless phone—which he eventually discovered in the garage next to the ferret cage. No wonder the lawyer hadn’t been able to reach him. He was lucky the phone had any charge left. He really needed to invest in a good cell phone to replace the one he’d lost.

  Sighing, he pushed Kerrianne’s number. She didn’t answer until the fifth ring, but he was used to that. Since her husband’s death a year and a half ago, life was a struggle for her every day. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Mitch. I need help. I have a baby here.” A fresh wave of sorrow shook him as he thought of Lane and Ashley and the orphan now in his charge.

  “A baby? Why do you have a baby?”

  “Do you remember Lane, my first mission companion? And his wife, Ashley?”

  “Of course I remember them. You were all inseparable for a while.”

  “Well, they moved to Texas and now”—Mitch took a deep breath for what he had to say next—“they’re dead. A boating accident. Their lawyer brought their baby to me.” His voice choked, despite his resolve to be strong so he wouldn’t add to her already heavy burden. “But I don’t know what to feed her—or anything.”

  “Okay,” came Kerrianne’s soothing voice. “First, take a deep breath.”

  Mitch obeyed, glad she believed him. His other sister, Amanda, would have asked if he were pulling her leg.

  “Good. Now where’s the baby?”

  “Sleeping on the couch.”

  “How old did you say she is?”

  “Thirteen months.”

  “Well, she should be in a crib or a toddler bed with a railing. I have either of those you can use. Caleb doesn’t need them since he sleeps with me.” Kerrianne paused briefly, as though remembering that her husband’s death was the reason she had plenty of room in her own bed for little Caleb. “But we’ll worry about that later. Can you see her?”

  “Uh, no, I’m in the garage by the ferrets’ cage.”

  “Well, go make sure she’s okay. At this age you can’t leave them alone for a minute. She might fall or wander off.”

  Mitch stumbled over his own feet as he ran through the kitchen and into the living room. The couch was empty, the pillow tossed onto the floor. “Uh, Kerrianne, she’s gone.”

  “Is there an outside door open?”

  “No.”

  “She can’t be far. Do you have anything dangerous lying around?”

  “How should I know?” His voice rose a notch. “What’s dangerous to a one-year-old?”

  “Everything.” Her answer was far from reassuring.

  Mitch first checked the spare room where he kept most of his animals. If Emily Jane climbed onto one of the cages, there could be a problem. But she wasn’t there, so he headed for the bathroom.

  “Oh,” he groaned into the phone.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s in the bathroom.”

  Kerrianne gave a little laugh. “I should have guessed. You’ll have to keep the door shut or you’ll—”

  “Have toilet paper everywhere.” Mitch surveyed the mess with dismay. Emily Jane was surrounded by unrolled paper. The cabinet under the sink was open as well, and a new roll was clutched in her tiny hands. Several chunks were missing.

  “Uh, Kerrianne, she’s eating the tissue.” Sure enough, as she stared up at him with wide eyes, she brought the roll to her mouth and tore out another chunk. He reached out. “No, don’t do that!” Her face scrunched, eyes filling with tears. He retracted his hand instantly.

  “That’s okay,” Kerrianne said. “At least she’s not playing in the toilet. A little paper won’t hurt her. Just take the rest away.”

  “She doesn’t want me to take it.”

  “Then get her something to eat in exchange.”

  “Like what?”

  “Cereal, uh, anything small. Yogurt. Look, I’m coming right over. Stay put!”

  Mitch hung up the phone. Kerianne lived in Pleasant Grove, about twenty minutes south of his place in Sandy. He would have to survive until she arrived. He knelt on the floor by Emily Jane.

  “Here, sweetie, can you give me that?” He held out his hand. “I know you’re hungry, and I admire you for trying to find something to eat, but I have much better stuff in the kitchen. Come on, give it to me.”

  Emily Jane smiled through her tears, a hesitant, toothy smile that brought a ray of light into his heart. She held out the roll. Just as his fingers touched it, she pulled it back . . . and laughed. Mitch laughed, too, but softly, so as not to startle her. He laughed until the laughter threatened to turn to tears.

  “Why don’t you keep it, sweetie? Give me your hand, and we’ll walk to the kitchen. You can walk, can’t you? I thought so.” Emily Jane let him take her hand, and she walked beside him, still hugging the roll of tissue to her chest.

  After rejecting the kitchen chairs as a possibility, he settled her on the linoleum floor. “Let’s look in your bag and see what’s there,” he said. “Maybe that lawyer left something to eat.” Thankfully, he found several jars of baby food, a baby spoon, a bottle, and a can of formula.

  Emily Jane picked up the spoon, so Mitch opened a jar that contained broccoli. He scooped some out and gave it to her. She opened her mouth obediently but made a sour face as she ate.

  “That bad, huh?” Mitch dipped his f
inger in the green mound clinging to the lid and tasted it. “Yuck. Don’t they put any salt in this stuff?”

  Emily Jane brought the roll of toilet paper up for another bite, but Mitch beat it to her mouth with the broccoli. She swallowed, but she definitely wasn’t impressed. Vowing to find something more appetizing, Mitch sprang to his feet and rifled in the cupboard, his hands closing on a box of cornflakes. Between feeding Emily Jane bites of green gunk, he mixed her formula in a bowl and tossed in the cornflakes. When they had softened a bit, he gave her those. She let the roll of paper drop to the side and stuck her hand in the cereal.

  “No,” he began, but she was too fast. “Well, okay. Go ahead, help yourself. Why not?”

  They sat on the floor for what seemed an eternity to Mitch. He was sure more food made it onto Emily Jane’s face and clothes and the floor than into her stomach. After a while, she stopped eating and looked around the kitchen. He tried to feed her more, but she turned her head and grunted, pointing at the cupboard.

  “What do you want?” Mitch stood, opened the cupboard, and peered inside. Nothing but more cereal boxes and a few dinner mixes. She grunted again, accompanied with a little whine.

  He was relieved to hear the doorbell. “Come in,” he yelled, but the door was already opening, revealing Kerrianne. She was average height but too thin at the moment. Her long dark blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup—he wasn’t sure he’d seen her wearing makeup since Adam died. She had expressive blue eyes, high cheekbones, and fine pale skin.

  Behind Kerrianne came his other sister, Amanda. “You should lock your doors,” she said. Amanda was taller than Kerrianne, her hair shorter and blonder. Her eyes were like their father’s—a bright emerald green. She wore dark eyeliner and mauve lipstick that emphasized her already striking features.

  “You?” he asked Amanda, rising to meet them.

  “What? Don’t you recognize me with this big belly?” She was six months pregnant with her first child and rather sensitive about her size.

  “I just didn’t realize you were coming,” he assured her.

  “Kerrianne stopped to get me. Don’t worry, we didn’t bring the kids. They’re all with Blake. Thank heaven it’s Saturday.”

  Mitch was grateful. Amanda and her husband, Blake, had guardianship of Blake’s cousin’s two children. They were awesome, but with Kerrianne’s three, the resulting noise was more than he could handle at the moment. This one child was already causing him plenty of stress.

  “I fed her cornflakes and this broccoli—nasty-tasting stuff, if you ask me.” He wrinkled his face in disgust.

  Amanda shrugged. “Most babies don’t seem to mind it.”

  “Mine did,” Kerrianne said. “They would never eat anything from a jar.”

  “Mara didn’t like the green ones either. But she gobbled up everything else.” Amanda knelt on the floor by Emily Jane. The baby gazed at her warily, her eyes large and sad. At least she wasn’t whining anymore.

  Kerrianne squatted down next to Amanda. “What a pretty child! Look at those curls! I bet it’ll stay curly, too.”

  Amanda reached out to touch a lock of Emily Jane’s hair. “She’s adorable. Even her little freckles are perfect.” Emily Jane pulled away from Amanda’s touch, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Making a sympathetic noise in her throat, Amanda let her hand drop.

  “She is cute,” Mitch agreed. He felt more pleased than he had any right to at his sisters’ praise, seeing that he had nothing whatsoever to do with Emily Jane’s looks. “Before you came, she kept grunting and pointing,” he added. “But I can’t figure out what she wants.”

  “Maybe a diaper change?” Amanda suggested.

  Kerrianne snapped her fingers. “A drink. I’ll bet she wants water. It’s taken months for Caleb to say water instead of pointing or grunting.”

  Mitch found the smallest plastic cup he owned, filling it halfway. “Do I just give it to her?”

  “Sure.” Amanda’s green eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Kerrianne snorted. “Only if you want her to dump it. Let me show you.” Taking the cup, she held it to Emily Jane’s mouth. The baby slurped eagerly. “You’ll need a sippy cup. That way she can do it herself.”

  “Aw, but the regular cup is more fun,” Amanda said with a laugh. “But you should always use a bib. Saves on cleaning.”

  “Yeah, she got broccoli everywhere. Cornflakes, too.” Mitch wondered if he was supposed to wipe her mouth with a regular rag or something special. Amanda solved the problem by getting out a fresh cloth.

  “Good thing about babies,” she said, rubbing Emily Jane’s face and hands. “They wash up nicely.”

  The baby started to cry at Amanda’s ministrations, but Mitch picked her up, and her tears stopped almost immediately. His sisters were at once serious and thoughtful.

  “Aw, the poor thing.” Amanda arose from the hard floor and sat on a chair. “Too many strangers all at once.”

  Kerrianne nodded. “You have to take time off from work, if you can. She’ll need someone steady—especially in the beginning.”

  “I’ve only been there ten months. My vacation isn’t scheduled until August.” He sighed. “Maybe I can work something out with my boss.”

  Amanda rubbed a hand over her swollen stomach. “I can’t believe you’re keeping her.”

  Mitch glared at his sister. He and Amanda had always been close, but this comment made him want to strangle her. “What else can I do? Her parents wanted me to raise her. How can I say no? It’s not as if she can be adopted and sealed to another family—she has a mom and a dad already.”

  “Relax.” Amanda lifted herself from the chair and put a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly, you’ll do great. And I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

  Kerrianne nodded agreement. “Call, if you ever need any help.”

  “How hard can it be?” Mitch asked. What was wrong with them? Sure, he’d had a challenging few hours with Emily Jane that morning, but his sisters seemed to think raising a child was the most difficult thing on the face of the planet. Did they forget that he’d raised baby birds from eggs? Now that was hard.

  Amanda and Kerrianne grinned, sharing some secret he couldn’t begin to fathom. “What?” he said, annoyed. “Look, just show me the ropes. I’ll take it from there.”

  Amanda gave his shoulder another pat. “You’ll do fine. You’re a wonderful uncle, and I don’t know what I would have done without you in the past year and a half. Gaining a husband and two children at the same time was a big adjustment for me. You’ve been a great support.”

  “For me, too,” Kerrianne added. “You’ve been there for me every step of the way since Adam passed away, and we’ll be here for you now.” She started for the front door. “We threw some things in the van that you might be able to use. While we bring them in, you should run a few inches of water in the bathtub to clean her up. Remember to check the temperature before you put her in.”

  “Okay.” Mitch had been silently debating whether he should use the kitchen sink but decided the risk of dropping her was too great.

  While the water ran, he washed the food from the floor. By the time the bath was ready, his sisters were back inside giving orders on the proper way to bathe a child. Emily Jane was thrilled to be in the water, and her smiles were frequent. After a rather long time in the tub, she was sleepy again.

  “It’s been a big day for her.” Kerrianne handed him a towel.

  “I’ll make her a bottle,” Amanda said. “Babies this age still like to drink one before they sleep.” She left the bathroom.

  “Does she have any clothes?” Kerrianne asked.

  “Yeah, in a suitcase somewhere. The lawyer left it with a car seat.”

  “Better put a diaper on first.”

  Emily Jane “helped” them go through the contents of her suitcase—mainly by spreading items around the living room. Mitch was pleased to see she had w
hat looked like sufficient clothing, and even Kerrianne was impressed. “Someone really loved to dress up this little girl,” she said, blinking her eyes as she always did when feeling emotional. Mitch didn’t blame her. His heart ached at the idea of Ashley shopping for all these clothes.

  “This looks comfortable.” Kerrianne handed him a short-sleeved cotton shirt with matching capri pants. With an amused smile, she watched as he struggled to dress the baby.

  Amanda returned with the bottle, tossing it to him, and he sat on the couch with Emily Jane. This he was good at, having helped Amanda many times with little Mara, who was now two. He was glad Amanda had come today with Kerrianne, who to his knowledge had never once used a bottle with any of her three children.

  As he held the baby, his sisters went about childproofing his house, placing anything they considered dangerous out of reach—including a plant, a stepping stool, a porcelain vase, dangling cords, and his model rocket collection. Together they set up a small portable crib in Mitch’s bedroom. Then, while Amanda ran to the store for diapers, wipes, and more baby food, Kerrianne organized Emily Jane’s clothes in his closet and in his top dresser drawer.

  By the time his sisters left, Mitch felt more in control. Emily Jane was asleep in the crib, covered with a quilt Kerrianne had made for one of her children. He also had a high chair, baby toys, and a book on childrearing. As a schoolteacher, Amanda thought of books before anything else.

  He thumbed through the book and after a few minutes was feeling overwhelmed again. What was he thinking? A child wasn’t like a bird or a gerbil. Or even a dog. A child was a human creature he could possibly damage for life. Who knew what emotional trials she would face from losing her parents so young? How could he possibly make up for their loss?

  Clenching his jaw, Mitch stilled the inner voices. Emily Jane had been left to him, and he would do everything in his power to give her everything she needed. With this in mind, he called his boss’s emergency cell phone number. “I need to take a few weeks off,” he said after explaining the circumstances. Belatedly, he added, “Please.”