2
LEIGHTON MITCHELL
Eight Weeks Later
My twelve-hour shift is almost over and I can’t resist taking Scarlett out of her crib, sitting with her in my favorite rocker, and cuddling her in my arms. I hold her close and caress the top of her head with my palm. “Hey, little Miss prissy pants. Dr. Wilson says that you are going home soon.”
I can’t believe how attached I am to this baby. I adore her. I’m aware that bonding with Scarlett this way is a mistake, but I find it impossible not to when she doesn’t have a mother coming to hold and embrace her.
Every baby deserves to feel loved and comforted and protected. And Scarlett wasn’t getting that in the beginning of her life. I really had no choice; River Winfrey was so cold and distant with the poor little thing during the first weeks of her life.
It didn’t happen overnight, but Scarlett managed to melt the icy walls around her father’s heart. It’s been a beautiful thing… watching this baby girl wrap her daddy around her tiny little finger.
I’m holding Scarlett against my chest, humming a lullaby, when River Winfrey arrives for his daily visit. “Look who’s here to see you, Miss prissy pants. It’s Daddy.”
River comes up to us and leans down to speak to Scarlett while untucking his shirt and unbuttoning it. “How is Daddy’s little princess today?”
Damn, I don’t hate this part of my job—watching this gorgeous country music star open his shirt so he can place his growing preemie skin-to-skin against his chest. That muscular, fit chest complete with the most perfect V at his waist… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. I bet he has a woman waiting for him in every city he tours.
“Miss Scarlett has been a little angel today. Like always.” Such a sweet temperament.
“She’s always an angel when her favorite nurse is on duty.”
The other nurses take good care of Miss prissy pants, but none of them spoil her with hugs and kisses the way I do. And River knows that. I’ve never hidden my partiality for Scarlett from him.
I get up from the rocker and hand her to her father. But not before I steal a look at his broad, muscular chest and narrow waist with a trail of dark curls that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. I shouldn’t imagine what that trail leads to, but I can’t help myself; it’s been a year since my divorce. Longer than that since I’ve been touched by a man.
“I have great news. Scarlett’s doing so well that Dr. Wilson says he’ll probably discharge her home next week.”
A wrinkle forms across River’s brow. “Is she ready to leave the hospital?”
“She’s consistently maintaining her body temp and oxygen levels. Those are the only things that have been keeping her here.”
The smile I expected to see on River’s face is absent. “I’m not ready.”
Most parents have an initialoh shitmoment when they realize that they’re about to take full responsibility for a child who once required twenty-four-hour care. And River Winfrey is no exception.
This is a new situation for me. I’ve discharged plenty of babies to a home with a mother and no father, but never a father without a mother. And this is a particularly sensitive situation; he’s only had eight weeks to adjust to the idea of having a child. Scarlett had already arrived by the time he found out about her.
“Don’t worry. Dr. Wilson isn’t sending her home today. You have time to get everything prepared for her.”
“No, I meanI’mnot ready.” It’s pure, unadulterated fear that I see in his eyes. “I… I can’t take care of her on my own.”
Scarlett is going to have special needs, but River’s friends and family seem eager to offer their help. I’m not at all worried about his having family support. “I’m certain that your family will lend a hand until you’re settled in and comfortable with caring for her. They aren’t going to abandon you.”
“But they can’t stay forever, and I don’t have a clue what I’ll do when it’s just the two of us.”
“You are her daddy. You’ll figure it out.”
“She deserves more than…me figuring it out.” He looks at her for a moment before his eyes return to mine. “I canceled shows so I could be here with her, but I’ll have to go back on the road soon. What then? Am I to take her with me?”
A baby, particularly one born three months prematurely, can’t ride around the country on a tour bus. “Her immune system is too compromised for that kind of travel. She should be around as few people as possible, especially since flu and RSVP season is still upon us.”
“Then you see my dilemma?”
I understand that River’s job includes traveling. He wouldn’t be the first father to leave a child at home so he could go out to make a living. “You’re definitely going to need help, but I’m confident that you’ll find a way to make it work. That’s what parents do.”
“My mom and sister will help with Scarlett. Even my friends, Claudia and Ashlyn, have offered. But I can’t count on them to raise her in my absence. And I don’t want to. She’smydaughter.Myresponsibility.”