Soon To Be Brides: The Marrying Macallister / That Blackhawk Bride. Barbara McCauley
chin and meeting his gaze.
“Forget the call. I’m not going to do it. I’m not telephoning the hospital and checking up on things.”
“Right.” Caitlin rolled her eyes.
“I mean it. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Oh, hey, here comes Eliza beth.”
No one spoke as Elizabeth rejoined the group.
“Okay, we’re on target,” she said. “It’s four o’clock. Go unpack and be back down here at five ready to go to the orphanage.”
“Oh,” Caitlin whispered. “Oh, my goodness.”
Three new mommies-to-be burst into tears.
“Shoo, shoo,” Elizabeth said, laughing and flapping her hands at them. “Go to your rooms. There. I sound like a stern old auntie. I’ll see you all back down here in an hour.”
Everyone collected their luggage, and Caitlin and Matt headed to their rooms.
Matt stopped as Caitlin poked the key card in the slot when they reached her room, then opened the door when the green light blinked on. She stepped inside the room far enough to hold the door open with her bottom and look back at Matt.
“I see the gizmo on the wall for the card so I can turn on the lights,” she said, laughing. “I’m a quick study.”
“Good for you, but maybe you should turn around and see what they’ve put in your room.”
Caitlin frowned slightly in confusion, turned, then a gasp escaped from her lips.
“Oh. Oh, Matt, look. It’s a crib. A port-a-crib. It’s Miss M.’ s crib where she’ll sleep after I bring her back here tomorrow. Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
Matt’s gaze was riveted on Caitlin as he heard the awe, the wonder, the heartfelt emotion ringing in her voice.
“Yes, I’m looking at one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen.” He cleared his throat as he heard the rasp of building emotions in his voice. “I’ll knock on your door when it’s time to go back downstairs. Okay?”
“’Kay,” Caitlin said absently, starting toward the crib.
The door swung free and closed in Matt’s face with a thud. He stood statue still for a long moment, attempting to visualize Caitlin inside the room, maybe running her hand over the rail of the crib, or across the soft sheet on the tiny mattress, or perhaps just gazing into the crib and envisioning Miss M. sleeping peacefully there, where she belonged, with her mother watching over her.
He looked quickly in both directions to be certain that no one had seen him standing there like an idiot who was attempting to carry on a conversation with a closed door before trudging back to his room.
Everyone in the group was fifteen minutes early arriving in the lobby, but no one settled onto the comfortable-looking chairs and sofas, not having the patience to sit still.
“What time is it?” Marsha said to Bud.
“One minute later than when you last asked me,” he said, smiling. “Chill, pretty wife, or you’re going to pass out cold on your nose.”
“Oh, right,” Marsha said, frowning at him. “Like you’re Mr. Cool, huh? Might I mention that you forgot to tie your shoelaces?”
“Well, cripe,” Bud said, looking down at his feet.
Matt whopped Bud on the back as he bent over to tend to his laces.
“Little shook up, Daddy?” Matt said. “Mmm. Maybe we should check your blood pressure, Doctor. You’re in a high-stress mode.”
“Can it, MacAllister,” Bud said, straightening and glaring at Matt. “Caitlin, do something about this man.”
“Me? What man?” she said, laughing. “I’m such a wreck I’m having trouble remembering my own name.”
“The vans are here,” a woman said, more in the form of a squeal.
“So they are,” Elizabeth agreed, joining the group. “Is everyone ready? Let me count noses.” She did a quick perusal of the gathered people. “Right on the money. Let’s go meet some new baby daughters.”
The fifteen-minute ride to the orphanage was a total blur to Caitlin until they suddenly turned onto a narrow street lined with small, shabby houses made of a variety of nonmatching material. At the end of the street a tall, seven-story building could be partially seen.
“That’s the orphanage,” Elizabeth said. “It’s big, as you can see, and filled to the brim with kids. There are infant floors, where the little ones sleep two and three to a crib at times, toddler floors, then older children have several floors where they sleep dorm-fashion until they are fostered out to work in the fields in rural areas.
“There is no heat in that building. They have to layer the kids in lots of clothes in the winter to keep them warm. A portion of the fees you paid for this trip will go directly to the orphanage for food, clothes, medical supplies, what have you.
“The vast majority of the children are girls, as you know. The few boys that are brought here have some kind of medical problem, or perhaps a birthmark that is too noticeable, or they might have been the second boy in the family, breaking the law about only being allowed to have one child, and there isn’t a thing wrong with them. However, it’s rare for boys to be in the orphanages.
“And,” Elizabeth said as the vans drove around a circle driveway. “Here—” the vans stopped “—we are.”
Matt reached over and squeezed one of Caitlin’s hands, finding it ice cold.
“Calm down,” he whispered to her. “If you touch Miss M. with hands that cold she’ll have a screamer of a fit.”
Caitlin nodded jerkily.
A beaming Dr. Yang greeted the group as they entered the building. He was a slightly built man in his mid-thirties with handsome features and dark, almond-shaped eyes that seemed to be actually sparkling.
“I feel as though I know you,” he said, his English having only a trace of an accent, “because I’ve read all of your dossiers. Welcome to China. Welcome to Nanjing. Welcome to the humble place where your daughters are waiting to meet you. Our elevator is very small, so I’ll ask that you go up to the third floor four at a time, please.
“We will go into a living room, then I’ll tell the head of the orphanage that you are here and that the caregivers should bring the babies to where you are. My paperwork is upstairs that documents the matches.” He laughed. “Same as always, Elizabeth. You bring me people who are too nervous to speak.”
“Never fails,” she said, smiling.
“But soon they’ll be crying those happy tears we always see,” Dr. Yang said.
“They’ve been practicing those already. Okay, folksies. Here we go.”
The living room Dr. Yang had spoken of was quite large, but the furniture and carpeting was very faded and worn. The paint on the walls was a color somewhere between gray and yellow and was peeling in numerous spots. There was a dusty, plastic red rose in a bud vase on a shabby end table in one corner. No pictures adorned the walls.
Caitlin, Matt, Marsha and Bud settled onto a threadbare sofa. Bud wrapped his arm around Marsha’s shoulders and she sat as close as possible to him. Matt fought the urge to do the same to Caitlin as she sat next to him, her hands clutched so tightly in her lap the knuckles were turning white.
Elizabeth and Dr. Yang left the room and a heavy silence fell as the minutes ticked slowly by. Then everyone stiffened as the pair reappeared followed by caregivers in white uniforms, some holding one baby, others with two.
Dr. Yang consulted a sheet of paper he was holding, then placed his hand on the shoulder