“Well, she isn’t ours,” he says. “No one here has had a child in five years. Nor do we want her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It isn’t.”
I hope I don’t look relieved when he says she isn’t theirs. I keep thinking of that boy and his father, and I do not want her to be a child of this settlement. That’s unfair, I know. As I said, it’s a harsh life, and there is no room for soft parenting. Still, my hands clutch the baby a little tighter.
A rap sounds at the door.
“Come in, Eric,” Edwin calls in English. When Dalton enters, he says, “Done playing with Jamie?”
Dalton grunts.
Edwin continues. “I’ll see that you get your hat and scarf back before you go. And I’ll speak to his father.”
Dalton nods, and at that, the matter is dropped.
“So, Casey tells me you found this baby,” Edwin says, “and you’re looking for her people. As much as it pains me to say this, if she was found in the snow…”
He glances toward the door. “It’s the beginning of winter. All signs point toward a long and cold one. Our practice of contraception, if I may be indelicate, is limited to less-than-foolproof methods. We advocate keen attention to monthly cycles, and children must be born before late summer. We would certainly never abandon a winter baby, but in the forest, between the hostiles and the nomads…” He shrugs. “There is, I fear, a reason why the child was left alone in the snow.”
“Under other circumstances, I’d agree,” I say. “However, she wasn’t alone. We found her with a dead woman who was not her mother.”
His eyes glitter. “That is intriguing.”
“Yeah,” Dalton says. “I know your English seems perfect, but I think the word you want is ‘tragic.’”
Edwin only shoots him a withering look. He turns to me and says, “Explain,” in Mandarin, a clear slight to Dalton. When I answer, it’s in English.
“The woman had been murdered,” I say. “She died holding the infant, but our doctor says she’s not the mother. The baby was wrapped only in skins, so I have no clues to her identity. I do have some to the woman’s, though, which I hope will lead me in the direction I need to go.”
I hand the baby to Dalton, then open my pack and pull out a decorated portion of the woman’s parka that I cut off for easy transport.
I pass him the piece. I have the ankle bracelet, too, but I want to show him this first. When I do, he gives a slow nod as he runs the fabric through his fingers.
“You recognize the handiwork?” I say.
He hands it back. “If I say I do not, will you accept that the baby is abandoned?”
“We aren’t looking for an excuse to keep a baby, Edwin.”
“Perhaps. But I am looking for an excuse to stop you from returning this child to her family.”
“Why?”
“Because you would make a good mother. You are young, strong, intelligent. Eric would make a good father. He is young and strong.”
Dalton snorts, not missing the adjective Edwin has skipped.
Edwin only smiles and looks at me, with a wave at Dalton. “See how happy that baby is with Eric? How easily he holds it? How he helped young Jamie? He is a natural father. That’s rare. You should take advantage of it.”
“By stealing a baby so Eric will be stuck with me?” I say. “Not exactly my recipe for a happy family.”
“Oh, I’m sure he would be very happy to be stuck with you. Wouldn’t you, Eric?”
Dalton only rolls his eyes, and I say, “I’m not taking this baby from her family. If you know who they are—”
“I do, which is why I am suggesting you forget them. The child was abandoned. Found with a dead woman, who probably is her mother. Your doctor was clearly wrong. The child is motherless and alone. You should take her.”
“So which is it? The baby was abandoned? Or orphaned?”