hadn’t been sleeping or eating. She was living on adrenaline, and she had to get away from them both. “There are nannies specifically trained to care for preemies.”
“I don’t want a stranger. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“This isn’t about money.” She’d stayed with the baby at the hospital. She couldn’t put herself in any more emotional jeopardy. This man. This baby. They were living reminders of her own failure. “I’ll get some recommendations from the nurses and make a few phone calls.”
“I don’t want anyone else. You’re smart. You’re competent. And you’re no bullshit.”
“I appreciate your trust in light of what happened, but I don’t want to do it.”
He regarded her with steady eyes and struck his lowest blow. “I guess you’ve forgotten.”
“Forgotten?”
“The promise you made to Bianca. Right before she died.”
* * *
The hospital made certain his immunizations were up-to-date and gave him instructions on infant CPR that caused him to break out in a cold sweat. They told him about car seats and something called kangaroo care, which he hoped Tess knew all about because he sure as hell wasn’t going to provide it. He tried to focus on the birth certificate worksheet they’d given him. His handwriting was barely legible.
Tess sat on the other side of the lounge. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t speak. He stopped writing. “They want the baby’s name.”
Tess got up from her chair and walked toward him. She took the clipboard. Took his pen. Wrote something, then handed everything back to him.
Wren Bianca North.
Not right, but good enough.
The nurse came to get them, but he stayed where he was while Tess followed her. Minutes ticked by. He shifted in his seat. He was a hard man. Not sentimental. He put his identity into his work. Only there. That was the way he lived. The way he wanted to live. And now this.
Tess appeared with the baby. He tried not to look at either one of them.
They were silent in the elevator
Eventually, the doors opened. As they passed through the lobby, people smiled, seeing them as loving parents bringing their precious newborn home. He wanted to run. Get away from everyone. He wanted things the way they used to be when he could block out the world with his brushes and spray cans, his posters, stencils, and murals. When a new commission, a new gallery exhibition, a new army of critics praising his work meant something.
When he still knew who he was and what his work meant.
He left Tess long enough to pull her car up to the hospital entrance. Yesterday he’d retrieved her keys from her cabin and hired a kid who worked at the gas station to take care of the rest—installing a car seat and getting her car from Tempest to the hospital. He had his own car here. Tess would have to take the baby with her.
Anything else was unthinkable.
Chapter Five
Tess white-knuckled it all the way to Tempest. She’d never been a nervous driver, but then she’d never had a newborn strapped in her backseat. Fortunately, a newborn who was asleep, but that could change at any moment.
More than her deathbed promise to Bianca had made her agree to do this. There was something else. Something selfish she was only beginning to understand. Because Wren needed all her attention, Tess could go for an hour or more without thinking about Trav. This fragile infant had brought her a sliver of respite.
She glanced into the rearview mirror for a fruitless view of the baby. Nothing. She understood why it was best for infant car seats to face the rear, but she’d already pulled off the road twice to make certain Wren was still breathing. She fought the urge to pull over a third time.
The battered sign for the tempest women’s alliance slipped by. She drove carefully up the bumpy mountain road to the cabin. North had left first, and he was supposed to meet her here, but there was no sign of his dirty white Land Cruiser.
The baby had slumped into the very corner of the car seat, her lavender beanie askew on her doll-size head. She awakened as Tess took her out. She didn’t look happy, and by the time Tess had them both inside, she’d begun to cry, an unnaturally piercing sound coming from such a small body. “Shhh . . . Give me a chance, will you?”
The cabin was cold. Cold and damp. North was supposed to have turned on the small furnace and unloaded the things