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Compassion lit his eyes. “You think she’s going to freak?”
Unfortunately, yes. “It had occurred to me.”
He squinted. “What happened to her hair?”
Hannah looked down at the top of Isabella’s head. “I rubbed baby oil into her scalp, to soften the cradle cap.”
Joe moved to stand beside Hannah. “It looks soft, all right.”
As well as greasy. “Obviously, I need to shampoo that out.”
Looking more man of action than uninvolved bystander, Joe braced his hands on his waist. “Hard to do if you can’t put her down,” he noted.
Hannah didn’t want Isabella screaming in terror before she even got her in the water. Nor could she do everything with one hand, while still holding Isabella with the other. “Exactly.”
Joe sized up the situation. “Want me to help?”
He didn’t know how much. Yet, her conscience prevailed. “I promised you that you wouldn’t have to do this stuff,” Hannah reminded him guiltily.
Joe’s lips tightened with determination. “Let me put it to you this way. If she doesn’t sleep, you don’t sleep. And if neither of you sleep, I won’t sleep…and I like to sleep. So, what do you say we get this show on the road? Where do you want to do this?” he asked.
Hannah sized up the accommodations. The bathtub was way too big and deep for a baby who couldn’t even sit up yet. “How about the sink?”
“Good choice.” Joe cleared the toiletries from the marble counter between the two sinks. “She can look at herself in the mirror.”
Hannah turned the infant so that Isabella could see her reflection. The smile she had hoped to see did not come, but Isabella kept her gaze on the mirror. “If you could hold her, I can get everything ready.”
Joe held out his hands. Their hands and arms touched as they shifted the baby from her embrace to his. Isabella’s brows knit together, but she did not make a sound.
Hannah spread a thick hotel towel on the counter, and draped the baby bath towel on top of that. She brought in a bottle of lavender-scented baby wash and shampoo, a small thin baby washcloth, a clean diaper, undershirt and sleeper. Joe swayed the baby back and forth in his arms until the shallow oval basin was filled with warm water.
Hannah turned to him, aware she was nervous again. Maybe because it had never been more important to her to do something right. “I’ll ease her clothes off while you hold her.”
“Sounds good.”
Gently, she eased the pants and sweater Isabella had been wearing from her body. The diaper, after that. It was the first time Hannah had seen her baby without any clothing. She was shocked by how thin Isabella’s arms were, but relieved to see her torso was nice and sturdy, her ribs barely discernible beneath her delicate golden skin.
Hannah checked Joe to see if he was ready. He looked back at her as if to say, Here goes.
Murmuring soft words of comfort, Hannah eased Isabella Zhu Ming into the warm water. Isabella stiffened, a look of terror on her face, and began to struggle hysterically to get out. Joe produced the yellow rubber ducky. Isabella batted it away, still kicking.
He began speaking in Mandarin Chinese.
Isabella grew very still.
He did a little puppet show. “Huaji rubber ducky. Rubber ducky xihuan, Isabella Zhu Ming…”
He made quacking sounds that had Hannah smiling, Isabella solemn but intent. He had the duck “swim” circles around Isabella and washed the rubber ducky’s beak with the same baby wash Hannah was using on Isabella. By the time Hannah had put the shampoo in Isabella’s hair and tenderly massaged it in, Isabella was less concerned with the newness of her bath, reaching tentatively for the duck. She had it clutched in her hand by the time Hannah rinsed the soap out with a cup of water. Joe and Hannah locked eyes. They shared the triumph of her first bath, which, thanks to his help, had been relatively stress-free.
Isabella was still holding on to the toy when Hannah drew her out and wrapped her in a hooded towel. Soundlessly, Isabella examined every aspect of the duck while Hannah dressed her in a soft pink cotton sleeper. Hannah picked her up and breathed in the soft, clean baby scent of her. Tenderness, unlike anything she had ever felt, filled her heart. And she could have sworn, Joe felt it, too…
JOE HAD HEARD IT COULD TAKE days, weeks…even months for an adoptive mother to bond with an older infant.
Obviously, he noted as Hannah cuddled Isabella Zhu Ming Callahan close to her heart, this was not the case here. There was an unspoken connection between the two that transcended the barrier of so much that was unfamiliar. They communicated with touch and look. The message both were sending out was that they belonged together.
“You look so…wistful,” Hannah remarked, reluctantly handing Isabella back to Joe so she could make another bottle of formula.
“Do I?” He cradled Isabella in his arms and found the experience of holding the sweet and solemn little girl every bit as fulfilling as Hannah evidently had. Was this how it felt to be a parent? Was he giving up something incredible in refusing even to consider the possibility of fathering a child? Or was he being smart, given the kind of life he led, in abandoning the idea of a family of his own?
Finished making the bottle, Hannah retrieved Isabella and sat down in one of the upholstered chairs in front of the windows.
“You do.” She offered the bottle to Isabella. Once again, the baby turned her head away from Hannah to drink it. She stared at Joe instead.
Restless, Joe got up and took one of the chocolates the hotel staff had left on his pillow at turndown. “I was just thinking about how much of the world I have left to see and write about,” he fibbed, sure the unexpected sentiment he felt would disappear the moment they got back to the States and parted company once again.
Hannah shifted so the baby would be situated more comfortably in her arms. “How many books have you done so far?”
Joe picked up the camera she had brought with her and took a couple of photos he knew she would appreciate later. “Ten.”
Hannah smiled as the baby snuggled closer and shut her eyes. “How many do you intend to do?”
He shrugged, intent on capturing that moment of sweet mother-daughter bonding. He knelt and used the zoom function on the lens. “Fifty, if I’m lucky, plus updated versions of all the books I have in print.”
Hannah considered him thoughtfully. “Which means you go back to the countries you’ve already detailed?”
Wishing the two of them were like-minded enough to date, Joe nodded. “Right. I add new places, take out others that have either declined or closed their doors.” Desire welled inside him. He shunted it aside deliberately.
Compassion lit Hannah’s dark-brown eyes. “It must be exciting.”
And lonely, he thought. Especially on nights like this, when he was in an incredible city and had no one special to share it with. He turned the attention back to her once again. “You traveled a lot in your previous job, didn’t you?”
Hannah shifted the baby to her shoulder. “Every week I went somewhere to meet with a customer and help them revise or completely retool the marketing plan for their business.”
“Did you like it?”
Hannah patted Isabella gently on the back. “I liked the challenge of figuring out how to make something better.” She scowled, admitting, “I hated living out of a suitcase in so-so hotel rooms, always getting in late—or having to leave very early—driving rental cars in unfamiliar cities….”
Joe grinned. “I’m getting the sense you didn’t enjoy the traveling part,” he teased.
“You sense right. Although,” she added pensively, “maybe it would have been different if five-star accommodations and chauffeured limos had been part of my expense account.” She sneaked a peek at the infant curled up on her shoulder. “I think she’s finally asleep.”
“Want to try and put her down?”
Hannah nodded.
Joe took the empty baby bottle from her hand, being careful not to touch her in the process. She rose slowly, Isabella still in her arms, glided ever so carefully over to the port-a-crib in the corner, and gingerly eased Isabella down on her back.
To their mutual relief, Isabella slept on.
The picture of maternal tenderness, Hannah took the pink cotton baby quilt with the satin trim and tucked it around her new daughter. Next to her child, she secured the rubber ducky and an infant-size teddy bear, so both would be within reach when Isabella did wake up.
Hannah stepped back, still looking down at her daughter. Joe was so busy admiring her skill as a mother, he didn’t get out of her way fast enough. Their bodies brushed. She tilted her face up to his. Their glances met, and it was all Joe could do to keep from taking her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. The rational side of him knew, however, that kissing her now would be out of line. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her, or the situation.
Pushing his own desire aside once again, Joe cleared his throat, stepped back. He wished the situation were different, he were different. Because if he were a stay-in-one-place kind of guy he wouldn’t hesitate to make a move on Hannah, to see if this simmering attraction he’d been feeling led anywhere. But he wasn’t in the market for a wife and kid. And she wasn’t the kind of woman looking to have a fleeting affair. It was best, then, that they stayed friends. And only friends. “Guess we better hit the sack while we can,” he stated affably.
Hannah’s dreamy expression faded. In complete control of her emotions once again, she nodded. “No telling how long she’ll sleep.”
Joe walked over to the bureau where he had stowed his things. On top was his BlackBerry. Before he attached it to the charger, he checked the screen, saw the text message. He exhaled, resigned, and turned back to her. “I have to make a call. I’ll go downstairs.”
“You can do that here,” she offered.
Joe dreaded the upcoming conversation. This was not a part of his life he wished to share, even inadvertently. “I don’t want to chance waking Isabella up.” He pocketed his hotel room key card and warned without inflection, “I may be a while. So don’t feel you have to wait up.”
Chapter Three
Hannah got ready for bed and climbed beneath the covers. She should have been exhausted since it had been such an eventful day. What kept her awake was the look on Joe’s face when he checked his BlackBerry…the way he’d had to leave the room to make a phone call.
She understood he might want his privacy.
Furthermore, she knew she had no right to be curious about what was going on in his life tonight.
And yet…she was.
Did he have a woman in his life?
He hadn’t mentioned one.
No one had seen him with a female friend in the four months he had been renting a cabin outside of Summit. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t romantically involved.
She had just assumed, by the quick way he had accepted her invitation to accompany her to Taiwan, that he was single and as unencumbered emotionally as she was.
Although she did not know why this should suddenly matter to her. The two of them were not hooking up. He was moving on shortly after they returned to Texas.
And yet the way he had stopped dead in his tracks when he had read the message, not to mention the byplay of emotion across his face, made her sure he was dealing with something very personal.
As she drifted off to sleep, Hannah was still wondering what could have caused him to react like that.
The next thing she knew, she was waking to the hysterical shriek of the baby in the crib beside her bed. She bolted upright, as Isabella screamed in terror. Hannah flung back the covers. In the opposite bed, Joe did the same. Hannah picked up Isabella, soothing her with words and touch. To no avail. Isabella looked at Hannah as if she had never seen her before in her life. Tears streaming from her dark eyes, she screamed and kicked and flailed. Joe turned on a light.
He came toward them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah walked Isabella back and forth. She gently rubbed her daughter’s back, soothing her all the while. “I think it might be a night terror.” She had read about the sleep disturbance in infants. “She looks like she’s awake…”
“But she’s really still in the midst of a nightmare.” Joe spoke to be heard above the crying.
Hannah nodded.
He began speaking Mandarin Chinese. Hannah had no idea what he was saying, but the sound of his low, masculine voice soothed Isabella—and Hannah—in a way her English words could not.
As Hannah continued to sway the baby back and forth, Joe kept murmuring to her child. Slowly, the wailing diminished, and the tears stopped flowing. Before long, Isabella’s eyes slowly shut again.
Her own body relaxing in relief, Hannah held her baby close, rocking her gently back and forth, letting the rise and fall of her own chest synch with Isabella’s. Until finally, her little girl was limp in her arms once again. Hannah carefully eased Isabella back into the port-a-crib and covered her with a blanket.
Trembling with delayed reaction to the tumultuous event, Hannah sat down on the side of the bed.
Her heart still racing, she watched over her baby for signs of further distress. There were none.
Concerned, Joe brought her a bottle of water.
Hannah drank deeply. He touched her shoulder briefly, his palm as warm and comforting against her bare skin as his verbal reassurances had been to her infant daughter.
“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered.
Feeling like she could drown in the empathy in his eyes, knowing it would be all too easy to depend on his inherent kindness, she nodded. Seconds later, they turned off the light.
As Hannah lay back against the pillows, her breath shallow in her chest, she wondered what had frightened the baby so. Was Isabella remembering the night she had been abandoned in a city park by the family who could not care for her? Nights and days spent in an orphanage where again it seemed like she was all alone? Or was she afraid of the changes and unfamiliar faces?
All Hannah knew for sure was that she would do anything to protect her baby. Isabella needed to know she had family now. A family who would always love her and care for her, a family she could count on.
Isabella would never be forsaken again, Hannah vowed fiercely. She would see to that.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S going to be a delay?” Hannah asked the international adoption agency representative who had come to their suite.
Joe turned to the bearer of bad news.
The Hong Kong–born woman in charge of all legal matters was deeply apologetic. “We have just received word that our English interpreter has fallen ill. Our appointment with the local court is in one hour. We cannot get a suitable replacement that quickly. So all the English-speaking families in the group will have to reschedule for next week. The French and Italian families will proceed as scheduled.”
Joe watched the color drain from Hannah’s cheeks. He could imagine what she was thinking. International adoptions were orchestrated very carefully. A single glitch could cause the process to be set back for weeks or months. A lengthy delay would not only cost her thousands of additional dollars she might not have to spend, it could also prompt the Taiwanese authorities to send Isabella Zhu Ming back to the orphanage, until all was in order again.
Any obstacle to Isabella legally becoming Hannah’s child was unbearable. “Can’t you act as interpreter?” she asked the woman emotionally.
The representative shook her head. “While my English is fine, my Mandarin is rudimentary. The magistrate will be asking questions, and your answers to him must be correctly translated.”
Once again, Joe found himself getting involved despite his better judgment. “I speak the language fluently.” Before he knew it, he was on his way to the local court with the rest of the group. And Hannah Callahan was looking at him with more gratitude than ever before….
Once the adoptive families arrived, they were ushered into a waiting room and then called in to the judge’s chambers, one by one.
Joe served as interpreter for two other families before it was Hannah’s turn to appear with Isabella. As in other cases before the magistrate, vital statistics for both were verified. Then came the questions that were even more important.
“Are you adopting this baby girl as a single parent?”
“I am,” Hannah answered.
Her reply was translated. Then the next question came and was similarly transposed so she could understand. “Do you plan to someday marry?” Joe inquired for the court.
Hannah hesitated, her eyes locking with his momentarily, before she turned back to the bench. And in the silence that fell Joe found he was—surprisingly—almost as interested to hear her reply as the judge.
“I will only marry if the man loves Isabella as much as I do and will promise to be there for her always,” Hannah stated plainly.
