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Colton’s protectiveness grew fierce. Whatever had happened to this baby’s mother, he would find her. In the meantime, he would protect the baby and take care of it.
At that moment, the baby screwed up its face and cried—a sound like a mournful cat. So weak and pitiful Colton wondered if something was wrong.
“Don’t cry.” He cradled the baby against his chest and jiggled the little bundle.
“Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”
But the wails intensified. The baby sounded distraught.
What was he to do with such a tiny baby? Colton remembered the bottle and grabbed it. Stuck the nipple in the crying mouth.
The baby choked.
Colton’s face turned cold. His heart forgot to beat. In his ignorance had he drowned the wee mite?
* * *
Twenty-three-year-old Rebecca Sterling reminded herself to keep a cheerful smile and a hopeful heart as she headed down the street toward the orphanage. She was the one who had received the anonymous check, so she was the one in charge of the orphanage-building project, and she was determined to make it a success.
True, she knew nothing about building, but a year ago, she had known nothing about finding homes for orphan children, either. Her assignment with the Orphan Salvation Society—a New York–based organization that rescued orphaned city children from the streets and found families for them out West—had changed that in a hurry. Now all but one of the orphaned children placed in her care had been settled with families. The last child, ten-year-old Heidi Strauss, was at her side as they crossed the street to the orphanage building site. Half a block later, Rebecca’s heart sank and her smile faltered when she could see that no lumber had been delivered.
“No more wood,” Heidi announced.
“So I see.” No lumber. Things gone missing. Boards destroyed and made to look like an accident.
Someone didn’t want her to succeed at getting the orphanage built. Rebecca fought against her feelings of frustration. They were running out of time. The specially appointed U.S. marshal would soon return with the rescued orphans who’d been forced by Baxter into virtual slave labor for unscrupulous miners and farmers all over Nebraska territory.
The children deserved more than rescue. They deserved a warm place to live where they would be welcomed and protected. She intended to see that they got it. The orphanage would be built. Somehow.
She tucked her chin toward her chest in a sign that anyone who knew her would recognize as a sign of stubbornness. Whoever was at the root of her troubles would soon learn that Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling expected people to do as she asked.
Her chin sagged. Here in small-town Nebraska, the name Lawrence Sterling III didn’t carry the weight it did back in New York. Few people here had heard of her father. Fewer knew or cared that he was a rich importer of European goods.
She again drew her chin back. She would not accept defeat.
Through the framework of the building, a dark figure lurched from side to side.
“Someone’s there,” Heidi whispered as she tugged on Rebecca to stop her.
Rebecca jerked to a halt and clung to Heidi’s hand. Was he the one responsible for the mischief at the site? Or was he there to help?
Realizing that she was alone except for the small girl, who squeezed her hand hard enough to numb her fingers, Rebecca glanced around, but saw no one. No one to help her...but no one to aid the intruder, either. There was only one of him, after all. No reason to be all trembly inside. She’d had enough of delays. If his intention was anything but working on the building...
A horse whinnied as she and Heidi trod past him.
A cry reached her ears. A thin wail. She stopped and listened. “What is that?”
Heidi listened, too. “It sounds like a baby.”
“Must be coming from an open window.” She moved on until she reached the corner of the framed building, where she paused to study the man. A big man, broad at the shoulders. Something stirred within her. A sense of recognition and more—a sense of eagerness and curiosity.
Nonsense. She pushed away everything but caution and determination. Whoever he was, whatever he was up to, she had a job to do on this building. It was time everyone involved realized that she was in charge and would not relent until her job was done.
“Come along,” she murmured to Heidi, who hung back, afraid of the man. Rebecca led her forward.
At that moment, the man turned.
Rebecca recognized him—Colton Hayes, a cowboy she’d seen in church, in the store, riding down the street, driving a buggy with an older man and woman she’d been informed were his parents.
Her admiration of the way he gently helped his parents from the buggy was her justification for why she’d studied him so intently. Noted his strong build, his thick black hair. The few times she’d seen him without the black cowboy hat he now wore, she’d noticed that his hair dipped in a wave. Today he wore a soft-looking blue shirt and denim trousers faded across the thighs, darker at the seams.
Surely he wasn’t the one responsible for the mischief.
Not a tall, handsome man like that.
He considered her across the distance. Too far for her to see the color of his eyes, though she knew they were as green as emeralds.
Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, have you taken leave of your senses? Staring shamelessly at a man? What would your father say? She scolded herself in her mother’s voice and words. Her mother had died seven years ago, yet Rebecca still heard her and listened to her. But that was not to say that she always followed what she knew would be her mother’s advice. If she heeded her mother, she would demurely approach the man and speak quietly and gently. Perhaps ask if he needed assistance. Instead, she lifted the hem of her navy blue skirt and stepped quickly and confidently across the rutted ground. She circled the corner and approached the man. Heidi followed on her heels, trying to be invisible behind Rebecca’s skirts.
“Am I ever glad to see you,” the rancher said at their approach.
She jerked to a halt. Confusion clouded her thoughts. What on earth did he mean? And what did he have in his arms? Something alive, if the movement inside the quilt indicated anything. The cry she’d noted before came from that bundle. The squalling intensified.
“What is that?”
His crooked grin seemed both amused and desperate, which didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t imagine this big, bold man uncertain or desperate about anything.
“It’s a baby.” His voice carried a definite note of tension. “A crying baby. I tried to give it a bottle but nearly choked it to death.”
“I see.” She didn’t. Why did he have a baby?
“Perhaps you can help.”
“Me?” Her voice squeaked and she swallowed hard, forced calmness to her words. “What would you like me to do?”
“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”
She closed the remaining distance and looked at the small, scrunched-up face. Two little fists quivered beside the red cheeks. “It’s very tiny.”
“I figure it can’t be very old.”
“Is it a boy or girl?”
He shook his head as he continued to jiggle the infant. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
He chuckled. “Maybe because I haven’t seen anything more than the bit that’s not wrapped up.”
“You mean to say—”
“I found it here in that basket. Can’t you make it stop crying?”
He expected her to know what to do? Of course he would. After all, as an agent for the Orphan Salvation Society, she was deemed an expert on children. Only one problem. Until her father had signed her up for this trip, she’d had very little to do with children except in the company of their mothers or older sisters. Never had she even seen a baby so tiny.
Still she told herself, I can do this.
She would do this. She’d prove to her father and everyone else—herself included—that she wasn’t simply a fancy lady from New York. She was capable.
He held the crying infant out to her.
Her heart thumped so hard she thought he might hear it. She sucked in a steadying breath. Hoping her arms wouldn’t shake noticeably, she took the baby. It was incredibly tiny. Somewhere deep in her being, a protective ache made itself known and she cradled the bundle close.
Heidi stood on tiptoe to peek around Rebecca’s shoulder. She pulled aside a corner of the quilt to look at the baby. “Oh, sweet,” she whispered. Then, as she realized Colton could see her, she ducked back out of sight.
Colton heaved a sigh that Rebecca took for relief. Obviously, he thought she could take care of the little one.
“Very well.” She could do this. “What does it need?”
He shrugged, though it seemed more like a gesture of uncertainty than lack of concern. “Beats me. But I suppose it’s hungry.”
“Then hand me the bottle, please.” She indicated the nursing bottle he held in one hand.
He did so. His fingers were long and firm-looking. A workingman’s hands. Hands that would grip life with an unrelenting grasp.
She pulled her thoughts back to reality and the heart-wrenching wails of the infant in her arms. She rocked. “Shh. Shh.” But the cries did not abate. What was wrong? What should she do? Steeling her face to reveal none of her fears, she shook the bottle then tipped the nipple into the open mouth.
The baby choked.
She jerked the bottle away. Oh, dear God, please don’t let this little one die. At that moment she wished some of her deportment lessons had been forgone for instruction in child care. But, of course, she was expected to follow her mother’s example and let her future children be raised by wet nurses and nannies. Rebecca recalled her nanny from when she was about five. When Miss Betsy left, she remembered crying for days until her mother had forbidden any more tears. Then she’d cried in private, often disappearing into a closet and shutting the door, hiding in the darkness.
Her arms tightened around the baby. No child deserved to know such loneliness and isolation, if it could be avoided. A child belonged in a home where he or she would be loved and valued.
Heidi tapped Rebecca’s shoulder and whispered so softly Rebecca strained to catch her words. “Maybe the baby needs a dry diaper.”
Rebecca stared at Heidi. How did this child know more about infants than she, a grown woman, did? She stilled a sigh. Because Heidi had been taught from an early age to be practical rather than ornamental.
The girl smiled. “Maybe there’s one there.” She indicated the basket, but didn’t move.
Rebecca understood that Heidi didn’t want Colton to see her. The poor girl was terribly self-conscious about the burn scars on her face and arms, especially after they’d kept her from gaining approval from any of the families looking to take in one of the Orphan Salvation Society children. But their time together had left Rebecca feeling very close to Heidi and very protective of the sweet, quiet girl. If she couldn’t find a home for Heidi, the child would live in the orphanage and Rebecca would have to return to New York once she was done here. If her father would allow it, she would take Heidi back to New York and keep her so she wouldn’t have to go to the orphanage. But even if Father did approve, the Society would insist the child be placed in a two-parent family. And anyway, her father would absolutely refuse. Rebecca prayed daily for a loving home for the child and did her best to ignore the ache in her heart at knowing she must say goodbye to Heidi.
She edged toward the basket to consider the contents, letting Heidi follow in her shadow.
Thankfully, Heidi reached around her and searched through the items. “I found one.” Her voice remained low, not wanting Colton to hear her. “And here’s a note.” She handed the piece of paper to Rebecca.
Her heart quivering, Rebecca unfolded the page.
I’m so glad there’s going to be an orphanage where my little boy can be safe. Please take good care of my darling. His name is Gabriel.
She pulled the baby close to her heart. The orphanage wasn’t ready, but she’d take care of this child until it was. But now she had Heidi and the baby in her care. And an orphanage with stalled construction. The baby cried and she jiggled it in a vain attempt to soothe it.
It was a lot to manage. She drew in her chin. But she would do it.
Chapter Two
Rebecca handed the note to Colton, felt his concern even before he read the words.
Heidi tugged at Rebecca’s arm. She bent to catch the child’s soft words. “What does it say?”
She told Heidi that the baby had been left behind.
Little Heidi’s big brown eyes filled with shock. “His mama and papa are gone? Are they dead?” Sorrow hollowed out each syllable.
“I don’t know what’s happened to them.” A number of possibilities came to mind, but none she wished to share with a ten-year-old, especially one who knew all too well the agony of losing her parents.
“Poor little baby.” Heidi reached out and tenderly stroked the tiny cheek.
The baby stopped crying long enough to swallow hard, then began again. He sounded so distressed that Rebecca’s heart threatened to weep in response.
Heidi offered her the diaper.
Rebecca simply stared.
“You want I should do it?” Heidi’s voice carried more eagerness than Rebecca had heard since shortly after they left New York. At that time Heidi had been full of hope for a new, loving family. But at every stop, people had seen her scarred face and turned away.
Perhaps helping care for the baby would ease Heidi’s hurt. “If you’d like.”
Heidi didn’t have any younger siblings, yet she knew what to do. Were some people born with that knowledge? If so, what was she born for? Her mother’s voice answered, Rebecca Gwendolyn Sterling, there is no greater privilege than to run a home, entertain guests and be an asset to your father’s station in life. And when you marry, provide the same for your husband.
The lessons she had learned about maintaining flawless etiquette, organizing superb dinner parties and dressing to the most fashionable degree were all well and good in New York, but here they proved utterly useless. She couldn’t help but wonder if those lessons were truly any more useful in the big city. Certainly her fiancé had found her lacking, despite her rigorous training to be a high-society hostess. She shoved the thought away. She’d vowed not to think about Oliver once she boarded the train on this trip.
At her father’s request—insistence, really—Rebecca had left New York two months ago with thirty children. As an agent under the auspices of the Orphan Salvation Society, she had assisted the late Mr. Arlington in placing children at the various towns in Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and Nebraska. They had been on their way to Greenville—the final stop on their itinerary—when tragedy struck.
She tried to stop the horrifying memories from filling her mind, but they came with brilliant sharpness. The holdup of the train. The bandits making impossible demands. The children crying. The chaos that broke out when the thieves couldn’t open the safe and then the shock of a gunshot echoing through her head and heart. Her mouth still grew parched at the memory. Poor Mr. Arlington. His life ended a few miles from Evans Grove. But good had come even from the darkest of days, since the loss of Mr. Arlington had caused her and the children to settle—temporarily at first—in Evans Grove. If they’d gone to Greenville, most of the children would have ended up in Felix Baxter’s orphanage, farmed out for slave labor. Instead, nearly all the children had found good homes in Evans Grove. All but Heidi, who looked as happy as Rebecca had ever seen her with little Gabriel to care for.
Heidi spread a blanket on a clean board and indicated that Rebecca should put the baby down.
Colton moved closer, peering over Rebecca’s shoulder as Heidi tenderly folded back the quilt until the baby lay exposed in a white flannel gown.
Rebecca could not believe how tiny he was.
Colton whistled. “You ever see such a small baby?”
Heidi jerked back at his voice. She gave Rebecca a pleading glance before the baby’s cries drew her attention back to him. Rebecca let out a gust of air, thankful that Heidi hadn’t gone into hiding the way she often did with strangers.
She answered Colton’s question. “Never.” A fierce protectiveness filled her heart. She tore her gaze from the baby to Colton’s face and blinked at the way his green eyes glistened. As if he found the sight of the baby as incredible as she did. For a heartbeat she let herself share the sense of pleasure and possibility with him. Though she couldn’t have explained either if anyone asked.
She shifted her attention back to Heidi, carefully memorizing everything the child did. Rebecca might be inexperienced when it came to caring for babies, but she had proven over and over that she could learn new things very quickly. She’d learn how to care for this tiny newborn and provide for his every need.
