Because of the Baby.... Cat Schield
working?” Keaton’s blunt question caught her unprepared.
Lark usually worked four twelve-hour shifts in a row and then had six days off. She liked the schedule, but it was going to make being Grace’s primary caretaker a little challenging. Lark had no intention of putting the tiny baby in day care and she didn’t like the idea of a stranger watching her while Lark was at work. She’d hoped her mother might be willing to watch her grandchild, but thanks to Skye’s estrangement from the Taylor family, Lark was pretty sure the answer would be no.
“I haven’t finalized anything.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because I intend to be involved.”
* * *
Keaton saw immediately that Lark didn’t like what he had to say.
“Involved how?”
“I’m going to take care of her while you’re working.”
“You, personally?” She shook her head. “What do you know about babies?”
“What I don’t know I can learn.”
“Don’t you have enough going on with rebuilding your ranch?”
When the tornado had torn through in October, the Holt ranch house had been demolished along with several of the outbuildings. Fortunately Keaton’s parents had been out of town and most of the ranch hands had been miles away checking the fence line for breaks.
Keaton and a few of his employees hadn’t been so lucky. Most of the men working nearby had made it to shelter before the tornado hit, but Keaton and his foreman had been in the barn. Jeb had suffered a minor concussion and Keaton’s shoulder had been dislocated by flying debris.
Because of the number of people injured by the tornado, Lark had been working in the ER when Keaton drove himself and three other injured men to the hospital. He recalled the way his spirits had lifted at the briefest flash of awareness that had sparked between them as her eyes first met his. A second later she’d blinked and became all business as she sorted out the extent of their injuries.
The fleeting connection reminded him of simpler days when they’d been kids and he found her both appealing and a curiosity. The three-year difference in their ages and the feud between their families had given him plenty of reasons to give her a wide berth. But it hadn’t stopped him from wondering about her.
“My foreman can supervise when I’m not there and call me if something needs my immediate attention.” He was determined to protect his brother’s paternal rights. “I’m not negotiating with you, Lark.”
A mulish expression settled over her features. “Do you even have a place you can care for her? Where are you living while your ranch house is being rebuilt?”
“A hunting cabin.”
“A cabin?” Lark crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think so. A preemie’s lungs are delicate. She needs to be in a clean, warm environment free from drafts and damp.”
“My parents are staying with friends in Pine Valley. I could bring her there on the days you work.” He made the suggestion knowing it would never fly.
“That would be a terrible imposition on your parents’ friends.”
“Then I’ll watch her at your house.”
Lark’s eyes widened. Her mouth popped open, but she must have recognized the determination on his face, because whatever refusal she’d been about to utter didn’t come. Her facial muscles shifted into unhappy lines.
“I don’t really think...” she began before turning toward the door to the NICU. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to take care of a baby?”
“Some.”
Giving him a doubtful frown, Lark motioned for him to follow her. Her stiff posture demonstrated she wasn’t happy with his determination to be involved with Grace. Too bad. As her uncle, he had as much right to be with the infant as Lark.
In silence they walked down the row of incubators to the crib that held Grace. The anxious burn in Keaton’s chest whenever he visited his niece had faded. Born ten weeks premature at two pounds, two ounces, the baby girl had gained almost three pounds since then and was now free of all sensors, IVs, pressurized oxygen and the feeding tube.
Acting as if Keaton had ceased to exist for her, Lark carefully picked up Grace and settled her into the crook of her left arm. “Hello, beautiful. How are you doing today?”
“She’s doing great,” said Ginger. The nurse on duty was a plump woman in her midforties with keen brown eyes and an engaging smile. “Ready to go home in a few days.”
“I’m really excited about that,” Lark said, adjusting Grace’s pink hat embroidered with the word Miracle.
“Are you ready?”
“I have tomorrow off. I’m going to go shopping for everything.”
“We’re going shopping,” Keaton corrected her, drawing Ginger’s gaze. “Grace is my niece, as well. I’m going to be involved with taking care of her.”
Ginger’s eyes brightened. “That’s wonderful. Grace is going to need a lot more care than the average baby. I’m glad you’re going to be helping Lark out.” The NICU nurse gave his arm a pat as she moved off to check on another infant.
“It’s premature to talk about your involvement,” Lark muttered as soon as the other nurse was out of earshot. “Grace’s paternity has not yet been determined.”
“Today or tomorrow we’ll have the results and you’ll see she’s my niece as much as yours.” Seeing the way Lark’s mouth tightened, Keaton continued. “I intend to share the responsibility.”
“A lot of men wouldn’t want the responsibility of a preemie.”
“I know Jake would expect me to take care of his daughter.”
He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t respond. Lark had always struck him as the ultimate wallflower. Quiet and reserved, she watched more than participated. Why had he noticed her at all? Probably because he had similar tendencies. He kept to himself, enjoying the solitude of his cabin beside the small five-acre lake after a hectic day spent managing the ranch.
Her preoccupation with the baby gave him a chance to study her at length. Dressed in pale green scrubs, her wavy blond hair cut in a short bob, she gave off an ignore me vibe. She might have gone unnoticed if she wasn’t so tall. At five feet ten inches, she would have made a great basketball or volleyball player, but she’d been more of a bookworm than an athlete. She and Jake had been classmates, but despite the fact that he’d been secretly dating her sister all through high school, Lark had never been part of the same crowd.
Three years older than Lark, the single year they’d attended the same in high school, Keaton hadn’t had any contact with her, but she’d been extremely intelligent and that intrigued him. With a perfect score on her ACTs and could have had her pick of colleges if she’d wanted to venture out of Texas.
“Can you hold Grace for a second?”
Keaton blinked himself out of his thoughts. “Excuse me?”
“Can you hold Grace?”
“Why?”
Lark’s long lashes fluttered upward as she glanced at him in confusion. “Because she needs to be changed and I need to go get some wipes. This is out.” She pointed to a box on a nearby shelf.
Keaton stared down at Grace with his hands at his sides. She was so tiny. And he was a big guy more accustomed to wrestling with querulous calves than handling fragile things like a five-pound baby.
Lark stood and held Grace out to him with an impatient “here.”