Chapter Four
Thanks to Houston traffic, the drive to Teresa’s home took longer than Cooper would have liked, but at least Emma was quiet. That was a good thing. At least, he thought it was. Should she be talking and making noise? Maybe her silence was actually a bad sign? Or maybe he should have just let an experienced foster family take custody of the little girl until her mother was better.
Shaking his head, he looked up at the rear-view mirror. Of course that was not the better idea. The kid was staring ahead, sucking her thumb, and clutching that little blanket-like flamingo. Too small to actually be a blanket, he assumed it was a comfort thing. He also knew that clueless or not, taking custody of Emma had been the right thing to do. What he didn’t know was what the heck to do next. If ever there was a time when Google was your friend, this was it. At the next red light, he took a moment to search the day of a toddler. A few more swipes and he found the perfect site to layout a typical schedule.
A horn honked behind him and he stepped on the gas. Never before had he wished for more red lights, but by the time he’d reached the quaint suburban house on a tree-lined street, he’d felt more confident about what he was supposed to do with the little girl. Starting with a nap. She needed a nap. And a snack. He prayed that finding those would be easy.
Pulling into the driveway, he parked in front of the detached garage and continuing his prayers with every step, managed to remove Emma from her seat without much fuss and even successfully unlocked the door with a toddler on his hip. Oddly enough, he was actually more proud of himself for accomplishing this small feat than he’d been with any other recent project in his life.
The home was bright and airy and clearly still in the process of being unpacked. Dropping the diaper bag on the sofa, he crossed the living room into the breakfast nook and on into the kitchen. Looking around, he spotted the pantry and started there. Bingo. Right in front of him was a shelf dedicated to what looked like kid snacks. At least he assumed that organic Nothing But Fruit oat bars and Goldfish crackers were her snacks. Another basket caught his eye. Fruit sauces in a pouch with a big red top. That did not look like something used for cooking. Lifting one, he paused to read the label, but Emma reached for it, trying to snatch it away.
“Would you like some apple sauce?”
Still no smile, but she did nod and softly, and clearly announced, “Yes.”
Unscrewing the cap, he wondered, did he have to put her in a high chair, squeeze it into a bowl? Pausing again, the pouch in his one hand and Emma on his other hip, he studied the layout and opted to start checking the cabinets closest to the sink for dishes. He’d only taken a single step when Emma leaned forward and successfully snatched the pouch from his hand. At the same time he used his now free hand to help rebalance her on his hip, Emma shoved the pouch in her mouth and began sucking.
“Well, that was much easier than I thought.” Now he had to wonder if the combination apple and banana sauce was enough or if he needed to offer her a bar or fish or something. As he glanced in the fridge and spotted similar pouches labeled yogurt, Emma shifted slightly in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. “You must be tired.”
After all, from what he’d read, children this age still need at least one nap a day. Circling around through what was supposed to be a formal dining room but looked more like a box warehouse, he continued back into the front hall and up the stairs. There was no missing Emma’s room. If the one wall painted bubble gum pink wasn’t a dead giveaway, the menagerie of stuffed animals and white crib removed any lingering doubt.
Letting the empty snack pouch fall to the floor and still clutching the flamingo blankie in her other arm, Emma flung herself toward the crib. Could it really be this easy?
Not knowing what else to do, he drew the curtains closed on the window—after all, he liked a dark room, so should a little kid—and then he set her inside the crib. Immediately, she reached for a pacifier that was in the corner, shoved it into her mouth and snuggled into the blankie. Had he ever seen anything so angelic in his life? “Sweet dreams, little one.”
He almost wished he could just stand there and watch her sleep. How crazy was that? Slowly backing out of the room, he pulled the door closed and blew out a deep sigh. So far so good. But now what?
Why did her head hurt so much? Teresa tried to touch her temple, but her arm weighed more than a wet Persian cat. Why? Had she slept on it? So sleepy. Emma. Everything was so quiet. Emma must still be napping. Or was she still sleeping? Was it morning or afternoon? No. Had to be morning or why would she be in bed?
The way she struggled to open here eyes, it must be the middle of the night, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe if she sat up. Okay, everything felt heavy, not just her arm. What the heck? Forcing one eye open, she tried desperately to focus. Her lids drifted shut again and one more time she tried to open her eyes and focus. The wall was white, not her wall. Wait, new house. Was this her new room?
Losing the battle of the eyelids, her eyes fluttered shut one more time. The banging in her head seemed more of a dull ache now.
“You need your rest. Everything will be okay.”
Who said that? Was someone in the house? No. A dream. Was she dreaming? Everything was so very… fuzzy. Just five more minutes, then she’d get up and unpack. Yes. Five more minutes.
On the phone, doing his best to take care of some business while the little girl napped, Cooper churned his new responsibilities in the back of his mind, scribbling notes and doing internet searches between calls. The first thing he looked up was how long he could expect the baby to sleep. That response was all over the place. Apparently, he had between one and three hours. A couple of times he’d gone upstairs to listen at Emma’s door but didn’t hear a peep. Poor kid was probably exhausted.
The more he searched online the more keenly aware he was of just how little he knew about children. For one thing, apparently he was supposed to change her diaper before putting her down for a nap. Besides the few in the diaper bag, he didn’t have a clue where more diapers were kept. For Emma’s sake, he sure hoped the hospital had changed her before he came to see her.
Next, he perused the pantry and fridge, with little idea of what the heck he was supposed to feed her. He also didn’t know when her bedtime was, or what was her bedtime routine. Nor did he know what time she would wake up in the morning or who was going to watch her the next day so he could go to work. Blowing out a deep sigh, he doubted he had ever felt so very useless. Or stupid.
Thinking things through, if he was going to stay here, he’d need to pack a bag. Then again, at first the idea of bringing the baby home to familiar surroundings sounded sensible, but now, he felt like he was invading Tess’s privacy. Speaking of which. It struck him that surely by now she should be out of surgery, and hopefully someone would have more information for him.
All set to call the hospital, his phone dinged and at the same time, Emma let out a loud cry. Startled by it all, he sent the call to voice mail and turned away from the pantry, crossing the kitchen in two long strides. He simply could not do this alone. Not even with the advice of the internet. He had no idea how he was going to explain his being responsible for Emma, especially when he wasn’t all that sure why himself, but this was most definitely a matter for someone wiser than him. As soon as he packed a bag and changed her diaper, Emma was coming with him to the ranch. The nursery for Mitch’s daughter would work fine for Emma and his grandmother would know everything he didn’t. Emma cried out again and heaving in a deep breath, he bolted up the stairs. Grams was definitely the answer.
Inching the door open, Emma sat gripping her flamingo blankie and sucking on her thumb. As soon as he entered the room, she pushed to her feet, extended her arms to him and lifting her up, was caught completely off guard when she once again snuggled into his shoulder. Was there anything sweeter in this world? “We’re going to visit my grandmother. What do you think of that?”
“Yes,” she muttered into his shoulder. For some reason he thought ‘no’ was the one word that all young children used. So far, Emma had been extremely agreeable. Opening the drapes, he patted her back with his free hand and scanned the room. The changing table was on the opposite wall and he suspected diapers and creams and anything else needed was probably in or near the piece of furniture.
Every time he tried to set her down, she clung even harder to him. He never would have guessed it possible, but apparently, he could pack a bag and carry a kid at the same time. He’d found an insulated bag in the pantry and filled it with the yogurts, the apple sauces and anything else that looked like it might be toddler food. With the bag in his car and Emma safely strapped into the car seat, he hopped into the car and backed out of the driveway. Just knowing he wasn’t going to have to do this alone anymore was a massive relief. What he didn’t understand was how did Tess do single parenthood? There wasn’t a single sign of a man anywhere in the house. The only photos were of her and Emma.
From the car he called the house and told Margaret, the maid who’d been so much help when Gwyneth had Elizabeth, that he was coming with company. No point in explaining this over the phone, but at least he was assured both his grandparents were home and had no plans to go anywhere. He’d started to call the hospital when a truck cut him off and he swerved to avoid hitting the guardrail. Checking on Emma in the rear-view mirror, he decided definitely no more calls with a baby on board.
To his surprise, Emma was a good sport for the long drive out to the ranch. When he pulled into the driveway, her eyes seemed so full of curiosity as she took in every inch of her surroundings. Quickly, he retrieved her from the seat, kicked the car door shut with his foot, and hurried up the steps and inside. Knowing his grandparents would be in the parlor along with any other family members; he took a deep breath and patting Emma on the back, crossed the threshold into the large family room.
“Hello, dear.” His grandmother concentrated on the crossword puzzle in front of her. “Margaret said you were…” her words trailed off as she lifted her head and spotted Cooper and company. “Oh, my. Who is this?” Immediately, Grams was on her feet and slowly moving toward him.
“Emma Gordon.”
“Hello, Miss Emma.”
The child tipped her head at Lila Baron, but didn’t say a word. At least she didn’t cry.
“If you could take her a minute, I’d like to call the hospital and check on her mother.”
“Of course.” The older woman, who looked a decade or two younger than her years, reached forward. To Cooper’s relief, the child willingly went to his grandmother. If Emma was any judge of character, and he’d heard that children were excellent judges of character, she should know that Lila Baron was one of the good guys. The very good guys.
Turning and walking toward the window, and putting the phone on speaker, Cooper called the hospital. Whoever answered directed him to the appropriate nurse’s station. It took a few rings, but someone finally picked up. “This is Cooper Baron. I’m calling in to see how Teresa Gordon is doing. I assume she’s out of surgery?”
“Just a minute, Mr. Baron.”
He had no idea what the person on the other end was doing, but waiting another few minutes for answers wasn’t going to kill him. Especially since his grandmother and Emma were making fast friends over a game of pat-a-cake.
“Yes, Mr. Baron. I see here that you are Miss Gordon’s emergency contact.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, not missing how his grandparents both raised their heads to glance at him.
“Oh, and it says here that Miss Gordon’s daughter was released to her father’s custody.”
He bobbed his head and wished he hadn’t put the dumb phone on speaker. One more thing he’d have to explain to the Governor and Grams. Especially since he didn’t want to rectify the incorrect assumption if it meant Emma would be put in the foster-care system, even if only temporarily.
“And there are notes.” The woman paused a moment. “I don’t see a medical power of attorney on file, but since Emma’s pediatrician is here at the hospital, we have access to her records and birth certificate listing you as the father. That’s enough to allow us to update you.”
Birth certificate? His brain was stuck on those few words muttered by the nurse. So much so, he ignored the way his grandmother’s mouth fell open and his grandfather’s brows pleated into a frown. There had to be a big mistake somewhere. There just had to be. He’d known a lot of people in his day, and yes, he and Tess had grown close his senior year, but just as good friends. He had most definitely never known Teresa Gordon in the biblical sense—ever.