Be My Baby. Holly Jacobs

well-layered self toward the car, and as she got closer she heard noise. Lots of noise. It wasn’t music. Or if it was, it was the most awful music ever.

      It sounded like—

      She opened the door and peeked in the back seat.

      It was.

      A baby.

      And a crying baby, at that.

      Chapter Two

      “What did you do now, Larry?” Mia accused loudly as she leaned into the car and stared at the car seat.

      “Just get in and buckle up, fast. She cries whenever the car stops. If it’s moving, she’s okay.”

      Mac had learned that the hard way. The entire trip from Esther Thomas’s home to the office was fraught with red lights.

      As a matter of fact, every single traffic light he came to was red. And it stayed red for an inordinately long period of time.

      Or maybe it just seemed like eternity because Katie O’Keefe screamed every time the car stopped.

      Speaking of eternity, he watched Mia settle herself in the passenger seat, taking more time than he liked. She was moving rather stiffly.

      “Are you in yet?” he asked, practically shouting to be heard over the baby.

      She nodded.

      Mac threw the car in gear and started down the street. The baby quieted immediately.

      “So, what’s going on, Mac?” Mia asked, obviously disconcerted enough not to tease him.

      As a matter of fact, she sounded genuinely concerned.

      “You know that call you took today? That woman, Kim Lindsay? She was calling to tell me I had a baby.”

      “Oh, Larry, how could you be so careless?”

      He glared at her. “I wasn’t, but of course you’d assume the worst. Kim Lindsay is the social worker. I’m the baby’s guardian.”

      She was silent a moment, then softly said, “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

      Amelia Gallagher apologizing? That was certainly out of character.

      He nodded his acceptance and concentrated on the driving. He didn’t even glance in her direction as he said, “A woman came into the office last year wanting me to draw up a will. She named me her executor and guardian of her unborn child. I know it’s not normally the way things are handled, asking a lawyer to serve as guardian. It’s not something I’d normally agree to, but…” he paused. “There was something about her, about her story. She had no family, the baby’s father had died, and top it off, she was new in town. She was completely alone in the world. She worked at the courthouse and had heard about some of the cases I’ve done involving kids and…well, I just couldn’t say no.”

      Mac had felt the now familiar stab of empathy for Marion O’Keefe.

      He remembered her vividly, even after all this time. She’d been pale. More pale than redheads normally were. He should have known something was wrong with her physically. He should have tried to help her.

      Kim Lindsay said that she’d died of a brain aneurism. It was fast and painless. There was nothing anyone could have done. But Mac still felt guilty, as if he should have known and been able to do something.

      His voice lowered. “I never really expected it to come to anything. She passed away yesterday and this is her daughter.”

      “Oh, the poor baby.” Mia peeked into the back seat.

      Mac was pretty sure he caught the glitter of a tear in her eye, but she brushed her hand across her face, so he wasn’t sure.

      “What can I do?” she asked.

      He’d expected he’d have to cajole her, to bribe her…heck, maybe even threaten her into helping. He hadn’t expected such an immediate offer of assistance.

      “I don’t know anything about babies,” he admitted.

      “I don’t know much myself. I mean, I’ve baby-sat, so, I guess I know more than you, but it’s been years. I’m no expert.”

      “Do you know enough to help me buy what she needs? At least, enough to cover her most immediate needs? She’s only got two diapers and one bottle of formula. There wasn’t much in the apartment, not even a crib. I know what they sent with me won’t get me through the night, much less the next couple days. I can pay you.”

      Amelia glared at him, as if she was insulted. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to annoy her. Even when he wasn’t trying, annoying Amelia came pretty easily to him.

      “I don’t need your money,” she said, frowning at him.

      The baby made a soft cooing noise in the back and Amelia’s expression softened. “But I suppose I can help you get set up. Does this mean you’re keeping her?”

      The light ahead of them turned red, and as the car stopped, right on schedule, Katie started to scream.

      When they started moving again and the baby quieted, he answered, “No, of course not. I mean, I’m not equipped to take care of a baby for a few days, much less, take care of her long-term.”

      “So why didn’t you just let that Kim Lindsay take her? That’s what Social Services does, right?”

      His stomach clenched at the thought of sending Katie O’Keefe into the foster system, even if it would be only for a short time. He remembered what it was like being shuttled from house to house. Not that he was in the foster care system, unless you referred to his extended family in that respect.

      When he was ten his parents took off for California with dreams of fame and glory, at least that’s what they said. Mac had always felt as if they’d simply become bored with playing a family. They’d sent him to live at his grandmother’s for a short stay. They’d promised to send for him, but they never did. Oh, he got an occasional call or letter, always filled with empty promises. His parents couldn’t handle the responsibility of a kid.

      His grandmother passed away when he was twelve, he stayed with his aunt for a year, but she wasn’t thrilled with having the responsibility of looking after a child.

      Finally, he ended up moving in with a friend’s family during his freshman year of school. The Zumigalas had let him stay until he left for college. Despite the fact they’d treated him as a son, he’d always known he wasn’t. He’d always known he was living there at their discretion and any day they could decide to kick him out. He’d expected it, had waited for it. But they never had.

      They still invited him home to Pittsburgh for every holiday. They were the closest thing Mac had to a family.

      He had never understood why they’d taken a stranger into their home, taken on the responsibility of another child. After all, his own family didn’t want him, why had they?

      He’d never really figured it out. But he was thankful. They had given him more than a house to live in, they’d given him a home.

      He was going to find for Katie O’Keefe what the Zumigalas had given him…stability. A place to belong.

      She might be too young to understand on an intellectual level how precarious her position was, but she’d have to recognize what was happening on an emotional level. And he wouldn’t do that to her.

      No, she’d stay with him until he found her a family of her own. A permanent family. People who would love her and never desert her.

      “Her mother left her to my care,” he said. “She trusted me to find her a suitable family, though neither of us really expected me to ever be in charge of the baby. But I am, and I will personally care for her until other arrangements can be made.”

      “What kind of arrangements?”