Mission: Cavanaugh Baby. Marie Ferrarella
up and down movement filled her with a sense of awe as well as joy. Adele had been her first.
“You go on sleeping, sweetheart,” Tessie whispered softly, “so you can grow up big and strong. Mama loves you.”
The heavyset woman then made her way to the next crib.
Maureen appeared to be fast asleep, as well. Even so, when Tessie gently brushed her fingertips along the infant’s smooth, silky cheek, she saw the tiny rosebud mouth begin to root around, as if she was searching for her bottle.
This one was going to wake up hungry, Tessie thought, lingering over the crib.
“I’d better get your bottle ready, little one,” she murmured softly.
As Tessie drew her hand back, she accidentally brushed it against Maureen’s tightly closed fist. Even in sleep, the infant reacted. Her fingers closed around Tessie’s finger, creating a link—a brand-new life connecting to one that had been around for more than five decades.
Tessie stood over the crib for several moments, absorbing the warm sensations she always felt whenever Maureen would grasp her finger this way.
The helplessness of the infant before her branded her heart. Maureen was completely dependent on her for everything, as were Adele and the occupant of the third crib, Cathy.
The sense of responsibility she was feeling humbled Tessie, the way it always did.
Disengaging her finger from Maureen’s grasp, Tessie made her way over to the third crib a little more slowly. There was rain in the air, and that always seemed to bother her arthritic knees.
Cathy was her favorite, although she would never allow the other two to suspect this. She knew she wasn’t supposed to have favorites, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she approached and touched Cathy, the infant would turn her head to look at her, as if Cathy had recognized her from the very first.
It felt as if they had bonded the second Cathy had come into her life.
Tessie had thought perhaps this was all just a happy coincidence, Cathy turning her head and making eye contact when she touched the baby, but it wasn’t. Cathy actually responded to her, would look to find her no matter which side of the crib she stood on. Those electric-blue eyes would always seek her out.
“Well hello, Night Owl,” Tessie cooed over the infant. “I see you’re still awake.” Tessie chuckled. “Somehow, I knew you would be. Tell you what, what do you say to letting your sisters stay in dreamland while just the two of us go off? You and I have a date with a warm bottle and a rocking chair.” Tessie smiled at the small figure in the large crib. “There might even be a lullaby in it for you if you don’t make a sound to wake your sisters.”
Bending over the crib, the woman placed her hands carefully beneath the precious bundle and silently lifted her into her arms. Cathy turned her head as if to watch her and make sure that everything was all right.
Placing the baby against her shoulder, Tessie could feel the infant’s weight shifting, could feel her tiny body melding against her.
She never grew tired of that sensation. It filled her with love and the desire to protect these tiny little beings with the last ounce of breath in her body.
She patted Cathy’s back as she withdrew from the room. Cathy didn’t make a sound.
“Good girl,” Tessie whispered. “You didn’t wake your sisters.”
Leaving the room as softly as she had entered, Tessie closed the door again so that no outside noises could rouse either Adele or Maureen. After all, she only had two hands, and one baby at a time was really all she could handle.
Despite the fact that the door to the nursery was closed, Tessie still kept her voice to a whisper. “I don’t know where your bottle got to, so I’m using Maureen’s. I won’t tell if you don’t,” she said to the infant, chuckling.
Cathy remained silent.
Tessie’s smile spread. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, pleased. “When the new little one comes,” she continued as she walked through the house to get to the kitchen, “I’m going to be counting on you to show her the ropes.”
Not making a sound, Cathy continued to look at her, appearing to hang on every word that was said.
Chapter 1
“Get that needy little face away from me. I’m onto you, Rusty.” Glancing at the worn-out analog watch that was never off her wrist except when she was showering, Officer Ashley St. James shook her head as she moved about her small bedroom, trying to get ready for work. “I’ve got just enough time to put your breakfast out, so stop dancing around trying to trip me or I’m going to be late—and I can’t afford to be late again this month. The lieutenant is not a forgiving man, understand?”
Two sets of eyes looked up at her, and it seemed for all the world as if the creatures behind those eyes were hanging on her every word.
Ashley knew better.
Rusty and his cohort in crime only heard what they wanted to hear. Right now, what they both appeared to want to hear was simply the sound of her voice. They didn’t want her to leave. They wanted her to stay and play with them.
She only wished she could oblige.
“Out of my way, boys,” Ashley ordered, sweeping past the furry duo and making her way to the kitchen. Her entourage followed swiftly in her wake. Anticipation, Ashley could tell, was in the air.
Her routine was second nature to her. Quickly distributing equal amounts of food between two bowls, Ashley carried them over to the corner of the kitchen where the two dogs she’d rescued always ate.
Ordinarily that would be enough for Olympic-speed chewing to begin. But this morning, the two canines she shared her home with seemed far more interested in surrounding her—thereby outnumbering her—and loudly protesting the fact that she was just about to leave the house.
When they barked like that, they sounded more like a pack of dogs than just two.
Ashley put her hands on her hips and gave each culprit a look that was meant to silence them. “C’mon, guys, no more fooling around—or there’ll be no treats when I get home.”
That, she noted with no small satisfaction, combined with her I’m-not-kidding look, seemed to do the trick. The two dogs immediately stopped barking and turned their attention to the bowls brimming with food as a consolation prize.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the love and affection, I do,” she told them, rushing around the kitchen, attempting to restore it to reasonable order before she left.
If there was anything she couldn’t stand, it was a messy kitchen. Coming home to one after her shift was over was downright disheartening to her. And she would only have herself to blame if it was in a total state of chaos. Initially the dogs, both of which she’d rescued once it was clear that each had been abandoned by their former owners, had no problem showing their displeasure if she did something they weren’t happy about. They soon learned that pulling open the bottom drawer of her bureau and dragging it clear across the first floor, then emptying its contents and making a home in her underwear, was not acceptable.
Still, she could tell that they really wanted her to stay. That was what she got for spending the weekend catering to them and playing with them. They took to that instantly and seemed to think it was going to be like that from then on.
She only wished they were right. But life wasn’t that simple.
“I know, I know, if it was up to you, we’d all hang out together and I’d never leave the house. But if that happened, how would I earn the money to feed you two gluttonous creatures, never mind getting it to the house? The pet store doesn’t make deliveries.”
In response to her question, the dogs just continued eating as if the food before them was about to vanish at any second.