Jingle Bell Baby. Kate Little

trudged to the door and pulled it open. She felt a knot instantly clench up in her stomach.

      “Looks like I woke you,” Clint Bradshaw greeted her.

      She hadn’t been able to guess who was banging on her door. But he was the last person she’d expected to see. Was he here to take Daisy after all? So early?

      “I guess you did.” Jessie lifted a hand to her sleeptousled hair. She couldn’t imagine what she looked like. She didn’t want to know. “We—uh, had a late night,” she said. She pulled the door open wider and stepped aside. He came inside, his big body instantly filling up the small foyer and creating an uncomfortable sense of intimacy between them.

      He stared down at her. “How’s the baby?”

      “Oh, she’s fine.” Jessie looked at the drowsy baby, then back up at Clint. “Still a little sleepy, I guess.”

      “Did she cry much last night?”

      “A little,” Jessie replied. “I guess she missed her mother.”

      Jessie could now recall falling asleep with Daisy in the chair the first time. Daisy waking, getting fed and changed and having another crying spell a few hours after that and Jessie ending up right back in the chair with her sometime right before dawn, only to fall asleep again.

      “Yes, I guess so,” he answered, nodding.

      Enough of the small talk, Sheriff, she wanted to say. It’s really not your style anyway.

      “Have you come to take her?” Jessie forced herself to ask him.

      He removed his hat and gloves. His expression showed no emotion. “Tired of her already?”

      “No—no, not at all. She’s not a bit of trouble,” Jessie protested, some part of her mind registering that in some sense, her words weren’t entirely true. The baby had been heaps of trouble and had kept her running all night long. But she wouldn’t have traded those hours with Daisy for anything.

      Clint looked down at her, his gaze narrowed. And though the look was clearly a suspicious one, Jessie couldn’t help but notice the attractive little lines fanning out at the corners of his eyes. Damn, but the man was something to look at. Even more so in the light of day.

      “Well, you can keep her here until tomorrow. Or maybe even the day after,” Clint said. “Providing, of course, you want to.”

      “Two whole days?” Jessie felt her deflated heart fill with joy. “You mean it?”

      “I guess that’s a yes,” Clint said dryly, the hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

      “Of course it’s a yes.” Jessie smiled up at him. “But why? I thought you said someone would come for her today.”

      “The roads between here and Whitewood are a mess with the snow and the social services people at the hospital are all off for the holiday anyway,” he explained. “Nobody seems to think that there’s any emergency about bringing her in.”

      “Did you hear that, baby?” Jessie happily whispered to Daisy. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and it will snow for a week.”

      “Yeah, well, it just might.” Clint didn’t seem to consider this a fortunate turn of events, Jessie noticed. “We’ll see how you sound two days from now, snowed in with a tiny baby.”

      “I wouldn’t mind being snowed in with her for a month,” Jessie replied.

      Daisy, who was balanced on her hip, reached up and grabbed a long loose curl of Jessie’s hair. She yanked it with surprising strength. “Ouch!” Jessie yelped and gently pried the baby’s fingers free. “No, honey. Not the hair,” Jessie said patiently.

      Clint glanced down at her with an “I told you so” look, but she ignored him.

      “I brought you some supplies,” he said. “They’re out in the car.”

      “Supplies?”

      “Diapers, bottles, formula, rubber ducks. Hell, from what I’ve seen, babies need mountains of stuff,” he said as he pulled on his gloves and hat again. “And you can’t very well take her out in this weather,” he added, his hand on the door. “She doesn’t even have a snowsuit or a car seat.”

      “Uh, no, she doesn’t. I guess you’re right,” she had to agree.

      Snowsuits? Car seats? Jessie wondered how he had become so well-versed in the secret language of babies. Was he married with enough offspring to fill a minivan? He looked and acted single. And he didn’t wear a wedding ring. But all that could be said of many men who were anything but unattached, Jessie reminded herself.

      “I’ll be right back,” Clint said, swinging open the door. “Better keep her out of the cold draft.”

      “Oh, right. I’ll leave the door unlatched,” Jessie said, heading for the living room.

      As Clint disappeared out into the snow again, Jessie dashed to her bedroom, hugging Daisy close. She set Daisy on the bed and quickly changed her diaper. She had perfected her technique during the night and now managed to put a fresh diaper on the baby without using up half a bag of them in the process.

      She was about to scoop Daisy up and take her back out to the living room when she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror over her oak dressing table.

      Jessie winced.

      After bringing Daisy in last night, she hadn’t had a moment to think about herself. Not even time enough to shower and change into her nightgown. She had slept in the rocking chair, wearing a big plaid bathrobe over her waitress uniform. Half the pins had fallen out of her hair and it now looked like something was nesting on her head.

      Oh, Lordy! It was amazing the man didn’t turn and run when I opened the door this morning, she thought. She was about to put Daisy down and attempt some emergency repairs when she heard an unholy roar from the living room.

      “What in God’s name—” It was Clint. She scooped up Daisy, then rushed down the hallway just in time to see Clint standing in the doorway of her living room with white parcels hanging from each hand.

      She wondered what the problem was. Had he hurt himself? Twisted an ankle in the snow? She drew closer and stood right behind him. She looked past his broad back and through the doorway to see what he saw.

      The living room looked like a cyclone had struck. Large, white balls of rejected diapers littered the couch and floor. Baby clothes, towels, all of Daisy’s blankets, cotton balls and a few brightly colored plastic cups that Jessie had used to amuse the baby, covered every flat surface.

      Just the fallout from her wild night with Daisy, but she hadn’t had a chance to tidy up.

      He turned to her, his expression dark, his gaze pinning her like a butterfly on a specimen tray.

      “What the hell happened in there?”

      “It…uh, got a little out of control last night with the baby, I guess,” Jessie stammered. “She wasn’t…um, quite as easy as I thought to take care of.”

      “You told me you knew all about taking care of a baby,” he reminded her in a stern, quiet tone.

      Jessie’s mind raced. She could lie her way out of this. She could tell him that Daisy was a particularly difficult baby. The roughest, toughest, most stubborn little critter she’d ever come across. Though the baby’s present calm disposition certainly belied that explanation.

      “Well? Do you or don’t you?” he demanded.

      “It’s just—” Jessie cleared her throat and started over. “It’s just that it’s been a while since I watched a baby alone and those darn disposable diapers must have been factory rejects because—”

      Daisy reached up and swatted Jessie’s mouth. The baby had obviously been entranced by the movement of her lips, but the gesture made Jessie think