Chapter 5
Micah watched Naomi run a hand through her hair and felt the air shift.
She wasn’t panicking. But her dilemma was clear.
Caleb stood a few feet away, shoulders squared and jaw tight. He appeared to be bracing for impact.
The dog pressed against Naomi’s leg, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, tail thumping once against the ground.
What am I going to do? That was what Naomi had asked.
Micah didn’t answer. This wasn’t his choice.
Caleb cleared his throat. “I can go to the hospital. Talk to whoever’s in charge. See what the situation really is.”
Naomi shook her head. “No, you should stay here. Sissy called me. I should be the one who goes.”
Caleb hesitated, and Micah saw the conflict in his eyes. He was struggling with the instinct to act versus the reality of his responsibilities at Refuge Cove. Leaving this place unattended—even for a few hours—wasn’t something any of them took lightly.
Naomi’s gaze dropped to the dog, her fingers threading absently through his fur. Micah watched her process everything the same way she always did. She moved inward before she moved forward.
“Once the paperwork clears, they’ll transfer the baby fast,” Micah told her. “Temporary placement at first. Foster care if no one steps in.”
“I hate the idea of foster care,” she murmured.
“Most foster parents are good people,” Micah told her. “There are always a few bad apples, though. If you don’t want to take the baby, I’m sure they’ll find someone else.”
Naomi swallowed hard. “Why would Sissy want me? What sense does this make?”
Micah had thought about that also, but he knew the answer. “Better you than a stranger. Despite everything that’s happened, Sissy knows you’re a good person. That goes a long way.”
Naomi nodded as if she understood. But it was clear she was still burdened by the idea.
Caleb exhaled and rubbed a hand over his neck. “You should go, Naomi. You’re right. I need to stay with Madelyn. Max is actually out with Kendra right now, so Millie and I are the only staff on the premises.”
Max was a full-time worker here at Refuge Cove, someone who handled the kennels. He’d worked for Sarah, and the Kings had kept him on after her death. He was like family to them. Kendra was a part-time worker who also helped with the kennels. The two had been out on a few dates lately.
“We can take my SUV,” Micah offered. “I’d feel better if I went with you. Plus, I need to talk to the feds again.”
Naomi looked at him, and something unspoken passed between them—gratitude mixed with fear, trust edged with reluctance. “Okay.”
Relief flooded him. He’d half expected an argument.
Then she turned to Caleb. “Can you take care of the dog? Feed him? Check him out?”
“Of course,” Caleb said. “Though it looks like he won’t be happy until he’s back with you.”
She gave the dog another head pat and muttered something to him. The dog wagged his tail as if he understood.
As Micah headed for his SUV, he knew that whatever Naomi decided about that baby, he would support her. Because if she brought that child home, not only would she need all the help she could get—she’d also need protection.
Micah kept his eyes on the road, but he didn’t miss the way Naomi sat rigid in the passenger seat, shoulders drawn and hands clasped tight in her lap as the lights of the hospital rose out of the dark ahead.
“You don’t have to decide everything tonight,” he finally murmured. “No one’s asking you to sign your life away in the next ten minutes.”
Naomi let out a slow breath. “It feels like they are.”
Micah slowed as they approached a stoplight, watching the red glow wash across the windshield. “What happens next depends on what you’re willing to consider. I just want you to understand the options before anyone starts pressuring you.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
He took that as permission and continued. “If you step in, it would be an emergency placement. Temporary. It doesn’t make you the baby’s legal guardian, and it doesn’t mean adoption.”
Naomi stared straight ahead. “It means taking temporary responsibility.”
“Yes, but with oversight.”
Micah explained that child services would run an immediate background check. They’d take her fingerprints. Draw up paperwork. There would need to be a home visit and eventually a court hearing.
“They’d rather place a newborn with a known, stable adult than send her straight into foster care,” he continued.
Naomi’s fingers tightened. “I looked into foster certification once.”
Micah glanced at her, surprise flooding him. “Did you? When was that?”
“I started about a month before Sarah was killed.” Her voice stayed even, but he heard the effort it took. “I didn’t finish the process.”
That tracked. Grief had a way of freezing good intentions in place.
“It won’t transfer automatically,” he said. “But if you’ve already had background checks and training, that could speed things up.”
“That’s good to know . . .” She crossed her arms over her chest. “However, I don’t want to do anything that would endanger the shelter. The home visits . . . people might ask questions.”
“We could get Karen Watson involved. She knows the truth about Refuge Cove, right?”
Naomi nodded, her eyes brightening. “Yes, she does. Caleb and I know her from church and felt like we could trust her.”
The hospital sign loomed closer now, the lot half full even this late. Micah felt the weight of what he was about to say settle deeper in his chest.
“Taking this baby home will complicate your life,” he added. “Even with Karen involved, people will put you under a microscope.”
Naomi finally turned to look at him. “People already have us under a microscope.”
He didn’t argue with that.
Micah pulled into a space and cut the engine. For a moment, neither of them moved.
But there was something else on his mind, something he needed to say.
“Listen, Naomi,” he started. “You don’t owe me answers. But there’s something I need to ask.”
She waited.
“You know Richard Harding,” Micah said. “You know what he’s capable of—even while in prison.”
Her jaw tightened. “Yes, I do.”
“I need you to keep those things in mind. He’s a dangerous man.” In other words, Micah was worried about her. But he couldn’t tell her that. Not directly.
Naomi closed her eyes for a brief second, then opened them. “Believe me, I will.”
He blew out a breath. He’d said what he needed to say.
And Micah had known what her response would be. He knew there would be no changing Naomi’s mind, whatever she decided—nor did he have the right to try to sway her decision.
But he was worried about this situation.
He opened his door and stepped out, scanning the lot out of habit.
Sedans. SUVs. A minivan with a car seat visible through the back window.
And there, three rows over near the edge of the lot where the light didn’t quite reach . . . was a red pickup.