Yuletide Baby Bargain. Allison Leigh
she also has a name. Layla. Aside from that, we know nothing for certain.”
“Jax—”
“Jax isn’t here. So I’ll tell you the same thing Judge Stokes is going to tell you. This child appears to have been abandoned and—”
“No.” He crossed the room in two strides and took the baby out of her arms.
The bottle fell out of Maddie’s grasp and rolled across the table. Layla’s eyes rounded and she opened her mouth to protest loudly, but he caught it before it rolled onto the floor and shoved the nipple quickly back into her mouth. The baby subsided, blissfully guzzling once again, even though Linc was essentially holding her like a football under his arm. “You’re not sticking her with a bunch of strangers.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” Layla was kicking her legs so enthusiastically, Maddie was afraid the infant would squirt out from Linc’s grasp like a wet bar of soap. “She’s going to spit up everything she drinks. Give her to me.”
“No.”
She lifted her eyebrows. She wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl who could be easily brushed off by him anymore. She’d cut her teeth in adult probation before transferring into family services. “No?”
“If you’re not going to help, then just go home.” He turned away from her, walking out of the room. Layla’s legs bounced.
Maddie followed after him, skipping twice to dart around him and block his momentum. “You don’t get it!”
He frowned down at her. “I get that you’re in my way.”
“You can’t unring the bell here. I can’t pretend you didn’t call me.” She tried to slide Layla out of his grip.
He caught one of her hands in his, holding it away.
“Linc! I have a legal obligation to rep—” She broke off when he squeezed her fingers. Not enough to hurt, but enough to express himself. His hazel eyes were hard and his jaw was so tight, it looked white.
“To do nothing,” he ground out. “She’s my niece.”
Maddie exhaled, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy that she hoped was more from exhaustion and goodwill toward his brother than because of tender feelings for Linc himself. “You think she’s your niece,” she corrected in an even tone. Based on a note that said nothing of substance.
“She was left in my care.”
“Jax’s care, actually. And you’re saying he’s out of town. Have you tried calling him? To see what he has to say about the baby?”
“He’ll be home soon.” Linc’s tone was flat.
She didn’t believe him.
“Do you even know where he is?”
His expression turned darker, his jawline whiter. “No.”
She sighed.
There was no earthly reason why she should want to help him. Yet that was exactly what she realized she was going to do. Or try to do. It would involve an end-run around her boss, but he was already going to be annoyed with her anyway, so she supposed she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
“I’ll call Archer.” Her brother, though personally exasperating, was a well-respected attorney practicing in Braden. “He used to clerk for Judge Stokes back in the day and they have a good relationship. Hopefully good enough to cut out some of the steps and get you appointed temporary custodian right from the start.”
“Perfect.”
“He can try. It’s still a longshot,” she warned. “You’re a single man with no proof right now that this baby is your niece, so you don’t have that relationship on your side. I’m on a first-name basis with all of the individuals around this region who are qualified foster care providers, and there’s not a single, unmarried man among them. So—”
“I don’t care who or what they are. I’m not some perfect stranger! Everyone in this town knows the Swift family.”
Not necessarily a good thing. She kept the thought to herself. “Swift Oil pumps a lot of money into Wyoming,” she allowed. “But—”
“But nothing. That should at least buy me enough time with the judge so that I can prove she’s my niece!”
He wouldn’t be able to buy anything else with the judge. She had plenty of experience with Horvald Stokes. The judge cared about one thing—the well-being of a child. Period. “Without the mother here to say anything, you’ll need a DNA test to prove it.”
“Then I’ll get a freaking DNA test!” His voice rose. “How long can that take?” Layla’s face crumpled and she started crying again.
And Linc looked like he was about to lose it.
Maddie decided not to tell him that Layla would need the test, as well. And that would require the judge’s order, too. “I’ll call Archer,” she said again and this time, successfully lifted the baby out of Linc’s arms. She offered Layla the bottle, but the baby turned her fussy face away. Maddie put her against her shoulder as she walked back out to the foyer, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. What a night you’ve had, huh?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
She worked open her purse and started rummaging inside. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
As if she would ever call him sweetie.
Her fingers latched onto her cell phone and she dragged it out of her purse. “When did you start needing glasses?”
She didn’t bother dialing her brother’s home phone. There was no way he’d be home on a Friday night. Archer was the only person she knew who liked his women more than Jaxon Swift did. Instead, she dialed his cell phone and hoped that he would at least be somewhere that the signal reached. Around their area of the state, such a thing was never guaranteed.
“Why?”
She tucked the phone against her shoulder as she bounced the baby and started unwinding her winter scarf. “Just trying to make conversation.”
“I don’t need conversation. I need results.” He left the foyer.
She made a face at his departing back and finally freed the scarf. She dropped it on top of her purse and started unbuttoning her coat.
“This better be good,” Archer’s voice suddenly came on the line. “I was in the middle of something.”
“Middle of someone more like,” she said. “I need a favor.” She quickly told him the situation. “Do you mind calling the judge for me? See if he’s willing to even consider it?”
“What’s your boss say about it?”
She mentally crossed her fingers. “He said it’s my call.” As lies went, it wasn’t the worst she could tell. Under ordinary circumstances, Raymond Marx trusted Maddie’s judgment.
But she had only had a few days off in the last three years. And he’d been adamant. The rules required a minimum of two continuous weeks off every year. She was well past that. Which meant that in this instance, her boss would say she was on vacation and should hand off anything even remotely approaching a case to one of her associates for the next two weeks. Period. She was supposed to be out living her life. Having a date or two. He’d even set her up with his buddy, Morton. Because, despite being a stickler for the rules, Ray really did care about his people.
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Stay by the phone,” her brother said in answer, and disconnected.
“Nothing like being surrounded by abrupt men,” she murmured. She managed to shrug out of her coat and the baby finally gave up a hard little burp.
“Attagirl.”