The Marine's Baby. Deb Kastner

was too late to take back the words, she continued.

      “I’d be happy to care for Gracie on weekdays if you want to drop her by.”

      Nate smiled again, at once both a charming and disarming gesture. “I’ll do that.”

      No, no, no, no, no! the voice inside of her railed.

      Not now.

      Not this baby, who reminded her all too much of a similar tiny, smiling infant; one little baby she would never forget.

      She had come to Morningway Lodge in part to escape from her memories, not indulge them with someone else’s baby. And though she’d cared for several infants since taking the position here, none had affected her the way Gracie had, from the first moment Jessica had seen her.

      The memories were still far too painfully fresh and easily goaded to the forefront of her mind. Her own sweet baby, Elizabeth, had had big brown eyes and curly black hair, as well. Maybe that was it.

      Maybe it was that the children in her day care, who belonged to the families who resided at Morningway Lodge while their loved ones recuperated at the nearby physical rehabilitation hospital, never stayed around for more than a few months.

      It was safe, relatively, not to get emotionally involved. But Nate—and Gracie—were Morningways. They could be around forever.

      By offering to help Nate Morningway, she realized with a sharp stab of pain to her heart, she had potentially just become her own worst enemy.

      Chapter Three

      Nate never appeared.

      Jessica stared out the large bay window overlooking the front side of the day care and sighed. Absently she noted the long shadows of the pine trees that signaled that the sun would soon be setting.

      Friday afternoon, and not a word from Nate, other than the time he’d called—at the last minute—and canceled their trip to the baby store in Boulder. In the week since, he’d not once brought Gracie by the day care. In point of fact, Jessica hadn’t seen Nate—or Gracie—at all. Not even in passing.

      She didn’t know why it bothered her, but it did nonetheless.

      Actually, she knew exactly why it bothered her.

      Gracie.

      That little baby girl had captured Jessica’s heart the moment Nate had walked into the lodge with her in his arms. What a sweetheart.

      Melancholy drifted over her like a black storm cloud and burst into rain, flooding through her heart and leaving her limbs weak.

      Jessica couldn’t deny the fact that Gracie reminded her of Elizabeth. There wasn’t a single day that went by that Jessica didn’t think of Elizabeth and weep, not in two years. Every single day and night since eight-month-old Elizabeth’s unexpected death from SIDS, Jessica’s arms and heart had painfully ached for the child.

      That was why, she supposed, that as much as it had hurt, holding Gracie had been such a blessing. Babies were God’s special gift, even those that only stayed on this earth a short while.

      And there was just something about Gracie, something special that set her apart. Something that felt different than her experiences with the other babies she’d cared for since she’d taken the position as director of the day care at Morningway Lodge nearly a year earlier.

      Why hadn’t Nate brought Gracie by?

      For better—or more likely for worse—Jessica had looked forward to interacting with the sweet baby girl every day at the day care.

      Well, she realized as she finished putting toys back in the bin and surveying the empty toddler room at the day care, there was one way to find out. She would swing by Nate’s cabin on her way home from work and find out what was keeping the man. And if she got to spend a little time with Gracie, that was a plus.

      After locking up, she headed straight to Nate’s cabin, walking quickly and with purpose. She didn’t want to give herself time to talk herself out of it, and maybe never see the baby again.

      Gah! she thought as she finally stood on the doorstep of Nate’s cabin. This was awkward, especially for a self-proclaimed introvert like Jessica.

      She could definitely be accused of being a worrywort. But a busybody? Not so much.

      Given the pros and cons of her current actions, the list was hardly equal. There were more than enough reasons for her to turn herself around right now and walk away. No harm done, right?

      With a quiet murmur and a shake of her head, Jessica raised her hand and knocked on the screen door. Gracie might need her, she reminded herself. The baby probably needed her, with only an inexperienced and obviously proud-to-a-fault marine taking care of her.

      The door behind the screen was open. When no one immediately answered her knock, Jessica cupped her hand to her forehead to block the glare of the evening sunshine and peered inside.

      “Hello? Mr. Morningway?” she called softly, her heart loudly humming in her ears. “It’s Jessica Sabin from the day care.”

      “Door is open, Jess,” called Nate’s coarse, disembodied voice. “In the kitchen. And please. It’s Nate. Mr. Morningway is my pop—or my brother.”

      Jessica let herself in, fighting herself every step of the way. This was so far out of her comfort zone it wasn’t even funny, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. It wasn’t the first time, and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last, though it didn’t help that Nate was such an incredibly handsome man.

      Okay, that was enough of that kind of thinking. She was going to talk herself out of this yet.

      “Ay-uh, ay-uh, ay-uh,” Gracie screeched when Jessica entered the kitchen. She banged her fists repeatedly on the tray in a staccato rhythm.

      The baby was seated in her high chair and facing the door. Nate sat with his back to Jessica, an infant spoon in one hand and a jar of pureed carrots in the other. He didn’t look around when she entered the kitchen, his gaze solely focused on his infant ward.

      “One more bite,” he coaxed, holding the spoon to Gracie’s tiny mouth. “Come on now, girl. Open wide and say ah.”

      “Ah, ah,” Gracie complied, giving Jessica a wide, toothless grin. She flapped her arms wildly and banged her little fists on the high chair with excited abandon. Jessica had never felt so welcome as she did from the baby’s innocent greeting.

      “Well, she’s glad to see you,” Nate commented, sounding at once amused and annoyed. Taking advantage of Gracie’s open mouth, he slipped a spoonful of carrots between her lips.

      “Ah-bbbb,” said baby Gracie.

      “Ack!” exclaimed Nate as Gracie’s enthusiastic raspberry covered his olive-green T-shirt with orange spots.

      Jessica couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her chest.

      “Sure, sure. Feel free to laugh.” Nate shot Jessica a faux glare across his shoulder, his features crinkled in distaste but a wry, self-deprecating grin on his lips that belied his tone.

      Jessica clapped a hand over her mouth, but not before another giggle escaped.

      “I’m sorry,” she apologized, her shoulders heaving from the hopeless effort of restraining her laughter. “It’s just that you look so—”

      “Foolish?” he offered, joining his own laughter with hers.

      She was going to say cute, she realized, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. And just how would that have sounded?

      To cover her own embarrassment, Jessica reached for the baby wipes on the table and methodically scrubbed Gracie’s face and hands before lifting the infant from the chair and into her arms.

      “Feeding this baby is way harder than it looks,” Nate observed wryly. “I’d rather face an IED.”