The Baby Switch!. Melissa Senate

at your expense, Ms. Ingalls, but this is a mistake,” he said to her. “It has to be.”

      “He’s right!” Shelby shouted, panic and bile rising. “It’s all a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

      “There were four babies born the night of November 5,” the director said. “Two boys and two girls. If there was a switch, it was between Shane Ingalls and Alexander Mercer.”

      The lawyers began talking, but Shelby’s ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. As Liam began pacing, she glanced at the baby in his arms—and gasped.

      “What?” Liam asked, freezing, his gaze narrowed on her again.

      “The little birthmark on his ear,” she whispered, standing up. “I have it, too. So does my grandmother.” Norah didn’t have it. Her mother didn’t have it. But Shelby did.

      Everyone peered at the tiny reddish-brown spot on the baby’s earlobe. Then at Shelby’s ear.

      “Oh, for God’s sake. It’s nothing,” Liam said, shifting Alexander in his arms so that he was out of view. “It’s a mark that will fade away.”

      Shelby’s legs shook to the point that she dropped back down in her chair. She stared at Shane’s dark hair, so unlike her own, which was blond. But Shane’s father, a bronc rider she’d foolishly married after a whirlwind courtship and who’d left town with another woman the moment Shelby told him she was pregnant, had Shane’s same dark hair. He had blue eyes, too, just like Shane.

      But the baby in Liam Mercer’s arms was also dark-haired. Also blue-eyed.

      In fact, the babies looked a lot alike, except for the shapes of their faces, and Shane’s features were a little sharper than Alexander’s. Did Shane look like Liam Mercer? Okay, yes. But he also looked a little like Shelby. Even if no one ever commented on that. He must look like his daddy, she’d heard someone say a time or two as they’d peered in Shane’s stroller, then at her.

      She suddenly felt dizzy and put her hand on her lawyer’s chair to brace herself again. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. This could not be happening.

      It was a mistake. Shane was her son.

      Liam’s lawyer also flipped through the paperwork, then looked up. “As there’s no reason to believe that Alexander West Mercer is not my client’s biological child, based on blood type, we’ll await DNA results before any further discussion.”

      Shelby’s lawyer nodded. “We’ll have Shelby’s and Shane’s blood tested for type at a separate facility. Until those results come in, we also will proceed with the understanding that Shane Ingalls is Shelby Ingalls’s biological child.

      Thank God Norah was dating a lawyer. Shelby’s mind was in such a state that she’d never have thought of that.

      “If that is agreeable to both parties,” the administrator said. “Of course I’ll need you both to sign some documents.”

      Shelby stared down at Shane, the voices retreating as everything inside her went numb. She held him as close as she could without squeezing him. He was her son.

      “I saw you,” Liam said, a reluctant awareness edging his deep voice.

      Shelby looked up. Liam was standing in front of her and staring at her.

      “The night Alexander was born,” he said. “I was in the waiting room and you were suddenly wheeled in, but another gurney was blocking the doorway. I was afraid you’d deliver right there in front of me.”

      “I remember,” she said. The sight of you, the way our eyes met, gave me something concrete to focus on.

      “I’d like to confer with my client,” Liam’s attorney said.

      “As would I,” Shelby’s lawyer said.

      Liam and his lawyer stepped to the back of the room. Shelby and hers stayed at the front.

      “Until we have your blood tested again, Shane is your son same as he was a half hour ago,” David said. “Even if the results indicate that you and Shane can’t be biologically related, operate under the assumption that he is your child under the law until the DNA tests are in.”

      He is. He is my son! But she heard herself ask the impossible. “What if he isn’t?” she said, her voice strangled on a sob. “What if he’s not my son?”

      “Then the four of us will meet again, Shelby. But until we know for sure, don’t agree to anything Mercer or his attorney asks of you and for God’s sake, don’t sign anything. Do you hear me?”

      She nodded. “I hear you.”

      The administrator took Shelby and Liam and their attorneys into a room, explained in detail how the DNA test worked, then had a technician swab the inside of their mouths and draw blood for good measure, vials labeled with their names. In addition to their attorneys, two techs served as witnesses and the entire process was videotaped to assure all was handled correctly. Shelby and Liam both watched, eagle-eyed, as the swabs and vials were sealed into separate bags.

      “I’ll also have my and Shane’s blood drawn at Cottonwood County Hospital today,” Shelby said. “I’ll ask for the results to be forwarded to all parties.”

      Finally, after another clipped speech about how sorry the administrator was and that she’d call the moment the DNA test results reached her desk, the attorneys left, and Shelby and Liam Mercer were alone.

      Liam had the same expression on his face that Shelby had to have on hers. Shock. Confusion. And fear. He was looking down but not at his son or at the floor.

      “I’m hanging on to useless hope,” she said. “If Shane isn’t my biological son, if the babies were switched, then the baby in your arms is my child?” She shook her head. “This is crazy.”

      “Alexander is my son,” Liam practically growled, his expression so fierce she took a step back. “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re going through the same thing I am. I don’t mean to take this out on you, of all people.”

      She bit her lip and let out a breath. Was the baby in Liam’s arms her son? Had she walked out of this clinic six months ago with someone else’s child? And left her own behind? Tears pricked her eyes.

      “May I see him?” Shelby asked, blinking back hard on the tears. “Up close?”

      Liam hesitated, then stepped toward her. Shelby tried to stifle the gasp. Alexander Mercer did look an awful lot like her. Down to the shape of the eyes, his face, something in his expression and the little Ingalls birthmark. But he had a dimple—like Liam. None of the Ingallses had a dimple.

      But Shane’s father did.

      Still, hair and eye color and a birthmark and a dimple didn’t mean Shane wasn’t her son.

      Even if the baby in her arms looked a lot like Liam Mercer.

      Shelby shook her head, suddenly unable to speak. She sucked in a breath. “I love Shane with all my heart. I’m his only parent. I’m his mother. He’s my son.”

      “I feel the same way about Alexander,” Liam said. “His mother died in childbirth.”

      Oh, no. That was why he looked the way he had that night. “I’m so sorry.” She let out a breath. “And I’m scared. Really, really scared.”

      “I don’t say this often, Ms. Ingalls. But so am I.”

      That made her feel better. Especially because he was a Mercer. And the Mercer name in Wedlock Creek meant two things. Power and money. Shelby barely broke even every month. And her lawyer was on loan.

      “Liam,” she said. “My son looks a lot like you. And your son looks a lot like me.”

      He turned away, then stared down at the baby in his arms. Then at her. Then back to his son. “Yeah. I know. And I’m worried as hell. That the babies actually could have been