Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (57 page)

“Wait for me, my sweethearts. Don't go looking in your stockings until I'm off the phone,” she admonished the children playfully. She reached for the phone in the pocket of her bathrobe. It was a long-standing habit of hers to keep her cell close by, even while she was sleeping. Better safe than sorry.

She glanced at the number. She didn't recognize it, but it was local.

“Hello?” She hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.

“Heather? This is Pastor Shawn O'Riley. I apologize for interrupting you on your Christmas morning.”

“Shawn?”
The baby.
Heather's adrenaline spiked along with her anxiety. “Is something wrong with Noelle?”

“No—no,” he answered hastily. “Well, maybe. I'm not sure. I think perhaps it's just that I don't know what I'm doing. I've never been in charge of a baby before.”

Heather pinched her lips and shook her head at the irony. A pastor, a man used to directing others, had in one single night discovered that caring for an infant offered a completely different set of challenges. Even a natural leader couldn't make a baby do what he wanted her to do.

But there were some men who would try.

She shoved out a breath. Shawn had given her no reason to suspect he might fall into that category. “Can you be more specific?”

“Let's see...I've changed her diaper, fed her, burped her—repeatedly, as a matter of fact. It's a never-ending cycle, it seems.”

Welcome to parenthood,
Heather thought. She'd never had children of her own, but for a while just after graduating from college she'd found great happiness working in a day-care center. In her heart of hearts she'd desperately wanted a baby of her own, but the idea of Adrian fathering any children she might bear had left her frightened beyond words at the prospect of conceiving and bringing a child into her terrifying and hopeless world. She hadn't dared to have a child, who'd have been immediately put at risk.

“Sounds like you're doing everything right,” she assured Shawn, forcefully shifting her thoughts to the present. To Noelle.

“I hope so, but I sure don't feel like it. She's a little darlin', but I'm beginning to think I've bitten off more than I can chew, so to speak. I've tried everything. I've done bathing, swaddling, attempting to coax her to take a pacifier—which, incidentally, is much more difficult in practice than it looks at first approach.”

Heather chuckled. “It takes some getting used to.”

“Yes, but here's my problem. The one thing I cannot get her to do is
sleep
. She'll only doze off for a few minutes at a time, and even then, it's only if I'm rocking her in my arms. The moment I try to lay her down on her own, her eyes pop back open and she starts wailing in earnest. Then the whole process begins again.” He sighed deeply.

It sounded as if the poor man was sleep-deprived in a major way. Heather imagined it was hard enough to care for a newborn when there were two parents in the house to tag-team on getting some rest. She had to admire Shawn for taking such immense responsibility on his own shoulders, even for one night. It wasn't something she would have expected from a single man.

But why was he calling her?

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for his answer.

His groan was one of utter defeat. “No. Not really. I guess I just wanted to hear the sound of someone's voice, an adult someone, that is—and maybe be reassured that I'm doing everything I need to be doing for Noelle. I don't want to mess this up. Jo Spencer considers you the resident expert, since you raise foster kids and have worked in day care and everything. I figured you were the one to call. I would hate to think I accidentally overlooked something important that I could have done to make Noelle more comfortable. Anyway, thanks for listening. I appreciate it.”

“Do you have anyone who could come over and spell you for a while so you can get some sleep?” Heather didn't know why she asked. It wasn't as if this situation had anything to do with her. Not directly. She wasn't Shawn's friend, and she didn't want to be, thank you very much. But this concern she felt wasn't truly for his sake, was it? No, it was for Noelle. The sweet baby deserved loving, capable care. And while Shawn seemed to be earnestly trying his best, he was unpracticed at child care even when he
wasn't
sleep-deprived. “A friend? A neighbor?”

“No. This is all on me. I wouldn't want to pull anyone away from sharing Christmas with their families.” He stifled a yawn. “I'm sure I'll make it...somehow.”

“I can't leave my foster kids.”

“Of course not.” He sounded genuinely surprised. “I wouldn't expect you to, even if you could.”

“My parents are no longer living, so I don't have any help from that quarter.” She didn't know why she felt the need to rationalize her actions to him, but there it was. “I'm single. I have no one else to watch them.”

“Seriously, Heather. I'm not asking for you to go out of your way for me and Noelle. I guess I shouldn't have called. I didn't mean to bother you or to put any kind of pressure on you.”

“You aren't bothering me,” she replied, which was half true. It would be a good long time, if ever, before she was completely comfortable around men—particularly those who claimed to be men of faith. But this was about the baby, and making sure the tiny infant was taken care of could never be a bother.

She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth—as she'd learned through many, many months of therapy.

Be calm. Relaxed. Composed.

She knew she was going to regret the next words coming out of her mouth, but she'd made a promise to herself and God that she'd help children in need whenever and wherever she found them. It was, in a sense, her penance for all of the mistakes she had made.

And at this moment, that meant she was going to help Noelle.

There was nothing she could do for the two children who'd died instantly after being sideswiped by Adrian's car as he swerved all over the road in a drunken haze. She couldn't turn back the clock and keep Adrian from walking out the door on that fateful day, even though she'd known he'd had too much to drink and that he was going to get behind the wheel and drive. She'd only been thinking about herself at the time. She'd wanted him gone, and she'd let him walk away.

She wished she could make things right, but she couldn't. However, she
could
do something for the tiny baby who'd been abandoned by her mother on Christmas Eve. She could—and she would.

“I know I said I can't leave my kids alone in the house, but that doesn't mean you can't come over here. I will set an extra plate, and you and Noelle can join us for Christmas dinner. I'm sure the kids would love to have extra guests at the table. I'll be happy to watch Noelle for a bit while you catch a power nap. Unless you have other plans, that is.”

“No. No other plans. But are you sure I won't be imposing on you?” Relief was evident in his voice.

“No.”
Yes.
“Not at all.”

“Well, then.”

Why was he hesitating? Could he hear the tentativeness in
her
tone?

“Oh, that's right. You don't have a car seat, do you?” She slung out a guess.

“That's not a problem. A car seat isn't necessary. It's not an immediate issue, anyway. I'll have to procure one eventually, I suppose, if I'm going to be the one taking Noelle to the authorities in San Antonio. But today, we can walk.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief and she dragged in a silent breath. He hadn't noticed her uncertainty, then.
Good.

“Then it's settled. I'll set an extra plate for you. Come over whenever you're ready. Oh, and be sure to bundle Noelle up really well. There's a bit of a chill in the air.”

“You're sure you don't mind the extra company?”

No, she wasn't sure. She would never be sure. Probably not for one single day for the rest of her life. And she wished he would stop asking, or she was liable to give in to her doubts and capitulate.

“I'm absolutely certain,” she reassured him for what she hoped was the last time. “I'm looking forward to seeing that precious little blessing of yours.”

At least that was the truth.

Chapter Three

S
hawn had never been so uncomfortable in his life. Being the kind and thoughtful woman she was, Heather hadn't said as much out loud, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was intruding on her personal family time—and that she was only allowing it because he was entirely inadequate to the task of caring for an infant.

From the moment he'd stepped into the house, Heather had swept Noelle into her arms and taken over all of the baby care. How quickly she had put the poor little infant's world to rights. Heather had also fixed
his
most pressing problem, insisting he head straight into Jacob's bedroom for a quick nap.

He'd dropped into a dead sleep but had been wakened shortly after by a phone call from Jo, inquiring how he was faring with Noelle. She hadn't even sounded a little bit surprised when he revealed he had come to Heather's house for help. Probably because Jo already suspected how hopeless he'd be with an infant.

Why no one had bothered to inform
him
that he wasn't up to the task was beyond him. No one had uttered a single word of warning. Instead, every last one of them had played right along last night when he'd unwittingly offered to care for the infant. No one had laughed. No one had even seemed startled by his hasty proposal. They'd let him dive right off the side of a cliff without testing the depth of the water first.

How could he have known what he was letting himself in for? He was a simple cowboy preacher. He knew ranching and he had the gift of gab. He was a single man and lived alone. His needs were few.

Noelle's needs were apparently many, or at least they were a mystery to him, and he was clearly lacking in his ability to take decent care of her. At least here with Heather, he could be assured that Noelle would have everything she needed. Though the downside was that he'd have Heather as a witness to see exactly how inept he truly was. He grinned, not bothered by the laughter that was bound to come at his expense—and if there wasn't yet, there soon would be. Christmas Day wasn't over. He had a while yet to display the stunning depths of his incompetence.

He didn't really care if other folks caught a laugh or two over his present circumstances—he was laughing at himself. It was pretty funny, when he thought about it.

Chuckling, Shawn assured Jo that all was well for the time being. It was all good
now
—because of Heather's generosity and help. Jo laughed with him and agreed with his assessment of Heather and then promised she'd check in on him later. Shawn tucked his cell phone into his shirt pocket and stretched to get the kinks out of his shoulders. Now that he was awake, he wasn't sure what he should be doing.

Probably leaving. He didn't want to take advantage of Heather's kindness, particularly on what he understood to be her first Christmas with her foster children.

But when he padded back into the living room and spied Noelle and Heather looking so comfortable and contented together in the rocking chair, he couldn't find it in his heart to break them up. And truth be told, even considering how awkward he felt right now being the third wheel, he wasn't yet prepared to go off on his own and face another night of single-parent foster-daddy duty.

He shuffled toward the corner of the living room, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue jeans. He probably should at least offer to do something to help, but he hadn't the faintest notion of what assistance he could give. He wasn't family. He wasn't technically even a guest. He didn't know where she kept the silverware. His cooking skills were marginal. And though he could probably manage to keep the older kids occupied, he was totally useless with the baby.

“You don't have to hold up the wall,” Heather commented with a gentle smile, brushing a long strand of mahogany-brown hair behind her ear. “Feel free to sit wherever you can find a free space, although it looks like you may have to move something to find a seat. I usually have a rule about putting away toys before new ones get taken out, but I'm being a little lax today, since it's Christmas.”

He smiled and nodded to acknowledge her offer, but he was too fidgety to sit down just yet. Besides, standing gave him a better view of the kids. There was nothing like the sight and sound of jubilant children on Christmas morning to raise a man's spirits.

Crumpled wads of bright-colored Christmas wrap, now ripped and forgotten, lay balled underneath the glittering tree. Heather's three foster children were busy with their new toys. The boys, nine-year-old Jacob and three-year-old Henry, played together, pushing their shiny cast-model race cars around a plastic track. Seven-year-old Missy held a new doll in the curve of her arm and mimicked Heather's sounds and movements as she held Noelle. It was a heartwarming sight, especially since just yesterday he'd imagined he'd spend the day as a lonely bachelor.

What a difference a day could make. Here he was, enveloped in the warmth of a child-filled house. He hadn't realized just how wonderful it would be after having been alone all these years. It filled his heart with great joy to realize how little it took to make the young ones happy. He needed a little bit more of that innocence in his life. If only adults had the same capacity to give and receive as generously as the youngsters.

Heather hadn't gone overkill on the number or size of the gifts—whether because she couldn't or she chose not to, but there was no shortage in the amount of joy she'd given her children in what they
had
received. It was abundantly clear to anyone observing the scene that she knew each of her foster children intimately and was mindful of what they wanted and needed.

Shawn was envious of that quality in her.
He
apparently hadn't been able to anticipate Noelle's needs at
all
.

It was a good thing for the baby that he wasn't going to end up being her permanent foster parent. She would no doubt go to a wonderful home with a foster mother like Heather, who had the knowledge and capacity to care for her. All of her needs would be anticipated and met without Shawn's doltish stops and starts. She was such a sweet little girl, and he was certain she'd eventually be adopted by a nice Christian family with a mom and a dad who loved each other. Maybe she'd have other siblings to play with and a dog and a cat and a yard with a fence.

All he had to offer was the dog and the cat and the yard and the fence—and pigs and goats and horses and ranch land.

Not good enough. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

He shifted his attention back to Heather, who watched over her brood from an old-fashioned wooden rocking chair laden with colorful floral cushions. She hummed a Christmas carol as she rocked. She had a lovely, rich alto voice that enthralled Shawn as much as it did Noelle, purring through his muscles until he felt thoroughly relaxed and yet completely alert at the same time. It was an odd paradox, but true nonetheless.

To his utter astonishment, he discovered that Noelle, who was contentedly curled in the crook of Heather's arm, wasn't asleep as he'd first assumed she must be. Instead, she was staring up at Heather, her chubby fist in her mouth and her eyes just beginning to focus on the woman holding her.

What she
wasn't
doing was crying. Not wailing, not squalling, not bawling, not even a whimper.

Go figure.

Shawn was amazed by how quickly Heather had made everything right in the tiny baby's world. He didn't know if it was because she was experienced in caring for infants or the fact that she was naturally suited to be a mother. Maybe it was a combination of both, but Noelle responded to Heather in a way that made Shawn feel especially incompetent, a fact which, while impressive, grated against his distinctly male pride.
He
wanted to do it right, get things done the first time and in an expedient manner—not stumble over his every move.

He watched in awe as the baby took a bottle from Heather without a fuss. Adding insult to injury, Noelle fell asleep while Heather was in the midst of patting her back.

Heather definitely must know some tricks of the trade that he didn't. Or maybe the tiny tyke was plain old worn-out from her self-appointed task of keeping Shawn awake all night. She had to sleep sometime, right?

Just not on his watch.

Shawn shifted his weight and smothered a yawn behind his fist. The catnap he'd taken was a drop in the bucket after the past twenty-four hours. It wasn't just the fact that he'd had to stay awake, although there was that. It had been quite a few years since he'd pulled an all-nighter. But there was a great deal more to the fatigue weighing him down—like the stress of being singularly responsible for a tiny human life, completely helpless and dependent upon him.

“You still look thoroughly exhausted,” Heather commented. She tilted her chin and blinked up at him with her big hazel eyes that softly glimmered from the lights of the tree. “I think maybe you need to sleep a little bit longer. There's no rush, you know. I don't mind watching the baby this afternoon.”

Caught up in her gaze, Shawn's stomach did a little flip and he barely stanched the urge to clear the catch out of his throat.

“Jo woke me when she phoned to check on Noelle. I attempted to go back to sleep but my mind started spinning with all that's been going on and that was the end of my nap. As tired as I am, I don't think I could sleep any more.”

“That's a shame. Maybe you should have put your phone on mute.” She smiled, though it looked a bit forced. “Well, in any case, you don't have to stand in the corner. You look like a hat stand—or else like someone put you in time-out.”

Shawn chuckled. “It wouldn't be the first time.”

“And probably not the last. Seriously—please come sit down on the couch and take a load off. You make me nervous when you hover that way.” Despite her kidding tone, he almost got the sense that she truly
was
nervous. But that couldn't be right, could it? What reason would she have to be nervous around him?

“I don't even mind if you put your feet up on the coffee table—well, the storage bench that serves as the coffee table—either,” she continued. “As far as I'm concerned, that's what it's there for.”

“Not for decoration? It's a nice-looking piece of furniture.” The bench looked as if it fit with the rest of her decor—not that he was any kind of expert on matters of decorating. The padded corners were a little worn, but it exhibited the same lived-in look as her other furnishings. He liked lived-in.

She chuckled. “No fancy furniture in this household.
Decorative
would last about a day. With three kids running around, functional is the name of the game here.”

He groaned in delight as the plush cushions on the chocolate-colored couch enveloped him like gentle arms. True comfort. Everything about Heather's house suggested it was the genuine article. Her entire home expressed her heart—and it was all about the children.

Her home was far more comfortable and welcoming than the more perfectly kept, sanitized houses of some of his congregants, where he found himself tiptoeing around, afraid to stand near the furniture, much less sit on it. He felt ill at ease in too-clean houses. As a pastor, visiting his flock was one of his favorite tasks, but as a cowboy who lived and worked on a ranch with horses and goats and pigs, he wasn't always dust-and dirt-free. Heather certainly didn't need to apologize for her furniture. He wished everyone kept a house like hers.

She was literally encouraging him to put his feet up.

Sweet!

All he needed now was a cold soft drink and a football game on television—although of course he'd never suggest such a thing. He'd already probably put enough dents into her holiday without bringing sports into it.

“I can't believe how worn-out I feel,” Shawn said, running a hand across the stubble on his jaw and belatedly realizing he hadn't shaved that morning. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't combed his hair before he left, either—and then he'd gone and taken a nap, which could only have served to worsen his already disheveled appearance. He must look like the abominable snowman's twin brother, and yet Heather hadn't blinked an eye, not when he'd appeared at the door, and not when he'd shuffled out after his nap. “I don't know how new parents do it, but I'm certainly too old to try to pull all-nighters anymore.”

Heather raised a brow and huffed a breath through her teeth. “You're not exactly over the hill. What are you—twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”

“Twenty-nine, although at the moment I feel more like I'm sixtysomething. Was it only a few years ago when I was in seminary that I could stay up all night with ease? Seems like forever. Me and my buddies used to get lost in these deep theological debates. They'd last for hours, many times the whole night, and then I would go straight to my classes the next day without so much as a yawn. I studied for finals that way, too. Pulled all-nighters and managed to do well on my tests without much more assistance than a stout cup of coffee or an energy drink to back me up. Now look at me.” He chuckled and hung his head with a dramatic groan. “One night with a baby and I'm as good as gone.”

She laughed. “It might be the stress that's really taking it out of you, you know. Watching a baby isn't for the weak of heart. I've never been the parent of an infant myself, but I saw plenty of them during my experience as a day-care director. If I don't miss my guess, all new parents go through this no-sleeping stage, at least to some extent. I remember my first few nights as a foster parent of these three sweethearts—hovering over the kids' beds when they were sleeping just to check and make sure they were all breathing. I was hypervigilant for the entire first month, I think. And my kids aren't even infants.”

Shawn groaned and shoved his fingers through his hair. He appreciated the way Heather was trying to make him feel better, but he still believed he'd epically failed in something that up until last night he'd simply and erroneously assumed was easy. He apparently lacked the entire skill set for being a father. “Thankfully, I'm not a real parent yet. I always thought I'd have a family someday, of course, but now I've got to admit I'm questioning how smart that would be. I'm not sure I can handle this
daddy
business. Unless maybe it's different when it's your own kid.”