The Rancher's Christmas Promise Page 9

  “You never did have a sense of humor.” Vivian looked at Greer with a twinkle in her eye as she patted her handbag sitting on the chair beside her. “I have my own flask with me for emergencies just like this. Just enough to make a cup of the dreadful coffee they have here a little more palatable.”

  Greer smiled, though it was anyone’s guess whether or not Vivian was being serious. Not that it mattered to her if her grandmother wanted to spike her coffee while they waited for the baby to arrive. As far as she was concerned, nearly anything that got them through was fine. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  She left the waiting room and started toward the elevator, but then aimed for the stairs instead to prolong her journey. As she passed the window of the nursery, she slowed to look inside. A dozen transparent bassinets were lined up, four of them holding tiny occupants, wrapped so snugly in white blankets that they looked more like burritos than miniature human beings.

  A blonde nurse wearing rubber-ducky-patterned scrubs walked into view and picked up one of the baby burritos, affording Greer a brief view of a scrunched-up red face and a shock of dark hair before the nurse carried the baby out of sight again.

  Greer lifted her hand and lightly touched the glass pane with her fingertips as she lingered there.

  When Daisy had left Layla on Linc’s doorstep, they’d estimated she was about two or three months old.

  Looking at the babies inside the nursery, Greer still found it unfathomable how Daisy could have done such a thing. If she had lived, if she’d been charged with child endangerment, if her case had managed to land on Greer’s desk like so many others, would she have been able to do her client justice?

  The blonde nurse returned to the area with the bassinets. She didn’t even glance toward the window, which made Greer wonder if the view was one-way. She plucked another baby from its bassinet, but instead of carrying the infant out of sight, she sat down in one of the rocking chairs situated around the nursery and cradled the baby to her shoulder as she began rocking.

  Greer finally turned away, but the hollowness that had opened inside her wouldn’t go away.

  It was still there when she went down the cement-walled staircase, footsteps echoing loudly on the metal stairs. At the bottom, she pushed through the door, and realized that the staircase hadn’t let her out in the lobby like the elevator would have, but in the emergency room.

  Since there had been plenty of times when she’d had to visit a new client in Weaver’s ER, she knew most of the shortcuts. She headed past the empty waiting area and the registration desk, aiming for the hallway on the other side that would take her back into the main part of the hospital.

  “Hey, Greer. Heard that Maddie came in earlier. How’s she doing?” the nurse behind the desk asked.

  Greer slowed. “Six hours and still at it.” She smiled at Courtney Hyde, who’d been an ER nurse since well before Greer had learned that they were cousins a few years ago. “Thought you didn’t work nights anymore?”

  Courtney tucked her long gold hair behind her ear. “Don’t usually. But we’re shorthanded at the moment, so.” She shrugged. “We’re all doing our part.” Then she smiled a little impishly. “And it gives Sadie an opportunity to have her daddy all to herself at bedtime. Yesterday when I got home, she’d convinced Mason to build her an ‘ice palace’—” she air-quoted the term “—to sleep in, using every pillow and furniture cushion we have in the house. Sadie slept the divine sleep that only a three-year-old can sleep.”

  “And Mason?”

  Courtney grinned. “My big tough husband had me schedule him for a massage just so he could work out the kinks from a night spent on the floor crammed inside an igloo of pillows.”

  Considering the fact that Mason Hyde was about six and a half feet tall, Greer could well believe it.

  “I swear I’ll never stop melting inside whenever I see the way he is with her, though,” Courtney added, sighing a little. “Just wait. Someday you’ll see what I mean.”

  Greer kept her smile in place, even though the image inside her head wasn’t one of Mason Hyde and his little girl. It was of Ryder, scooping Cow Pie Surprise into Layla’s greedy mouth.

  “You going to be at the picnic?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Gloria and Squire are hosting a big ol’ picnic next week out at the Double C. To celebrate Labor Day. Whole family will be there.” Courtney’s eyes twinkled. “That includes all of you Templetons now, too.”

  Greer chuckled wryly. “I kind of need to show my face at the county employee picnic that weekend. My boss’s wife organizes it. Besides which, just because the Clay family lines have expanded our way doesn’t necessarily mean we’re welcome. If my grandmother finds out we’re consorting with your grandfather, who knows how bad the fireworks will be.”

  “Old wounds,” Courtney said dismissively. “Vivian might have shunned Squire’s first wife sixty years ago, but she’s apologized. It’s high time he let it go. At least think about the picnic.” She reached out an arm and picked up the phone when it started ringing. “Emergency,” she answered. “Think about it,” she mouthed silently to Greer.

  Nodding, Greer left the other woman to her duties and continued on her way, only to stop short again when the double doors leading to the exam rooms swung open and Ryder appeared. He was holding Layla, wrapped in a blanket.

  Alarm exploded inside her.

  When he spotted her, his dark brows pulled together over his bloodshot blue eyes. He stopped several feet away. “What’re you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Without thought, she closed the distance between them and put her hand on Layla’s back through the blanket. The toddler’s head was resting on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  The comment came from Caleb Buchanan, and Greer realized the pediatrician had followed Ryder through the double doors. “However, if she hasn’t improved in the next twenty-four hours, give me or her regular pediatrician a call.”

  “Thanks.” Ryder’s jaw was dark with stubble and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple days.

  “And don’t worry too much,” Caleb added. “Kids run fevers. As long as it doesn’t get too high, her body’s just doing what it’s supposed to do.”

  When Ryder nodded, Caleb transferred his focus to Greer. “Heard Maddie was here. How’s everyone doing?” Thanks to the prolificacy of Squire Clay’s side of the family, Caleb was also a cousin. His pale blue scrubs did nothing to disguise his Superman-like physique. But Greer knew from experience that the doctor was singularly unconcerned with his looks.

  “Fine. Anxious for the baby to get here. We’ve been waiting hours.”

  “Want me to check in on them?”

  “That’d be great, if you’ve got the time. Everyone’s up in the waiting room. I was just gonna grab some coffees from the cafeteria.”

  He smiled and patted her shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out.” Then he retreated through the double doors.

  Greer immediately focused on Ryder again. “How long has she been sick?”

  “She didn’t eat much of her dinner, but she seemed okay until she woke up crying a couple hours ago.” He shifted the baby to his other shoulder. Layla didn’t stir. “She threw up all over her crib, then threw up all over me and was hot as a pistol.”

  Greer couldn’t help herself. She rubbed her hand soothingly over the thin blanket and the warm little body beneath. “Poor baby.”

  “Speaking of. Your sister’s having hers?”

  She nodded. “Whole family’s been here at some point tonight.”

  “Hope everything goes okay.” He took a step toward the sliding glass entrance doors.

  “Ryder—”

  He hesitated, waiting.

  She wasn’t sure why her mouth felt dry all of a sudd
en, but it did. “I...I haven’t heard anything on the job postings yet. Have you?”

  He shook his head. “Mrs. Pyle said she’d give me the rest of this week, after all.” He shifted from one cowboy boot to the other. “Think she’s feeling in a good mood after her grandson’s acquittal last week.”

  “But not good enough to stay on indefinitely.”

  “She’s a housekeeper. Not—”

  “—a nanny,” Greer finished along with him. “Well, I should get back up to the waiting room. They’re probably wondering what’s keeping me.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I don’t suppose you want to come...”

  He was shaking his head even before her words trailed off. “Need to get her back in her own bed.” He grimaced a little. “After I’ve gotten it all restored to rights, at least.”

  “Of course.” She pushed her hands down into the back pockets of her lightweight cotton pants. It was silly of her to even have the notion. “Well.” She edged toward the elevator. “Fingers crossed someone nibbles at one of the job posts.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted slightly and she felt certain he was thinking more about his wife idea than the nanny. “Yeah.”

  She took two more steps toward the elevator and jabbed her finger against the call button.

  “Don’t forget the cafeteria.”

  “What?” Her face warmed. “Oh. Right.” The elevator doors slid open but she ignored them.

  He smiled faintly. “G’night, Counselor.”

  She managed a faint smile, too, though it felt unsteady. “Good night, Ryder.”

  He carried Layla through the sliding door and disappeared into the darkness.

  Greer swallowed and moistened her lips, then nearly jumped out of her skin when Courtney walked up and stopped next to her. She was carrying a stack of medical charts. “If I weren’t already head over heels for my husband,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I’d probably be sighing a little myself over that one.”

  “I’m not sighing over him.”

  Courtney grinned. “Sure you’re not.” With a quick wink, she backed her way through the double doors.

  Left alone in the tiled room, Greer pressed her palms against her warm cheeks. She shook her head, trying to shake it off.

  But it was no use.

  And then her cell phone buzzed with a text from Ali. Where are u?! Baby here!

  Forget the coffee.

  She pushed the phone back into her pocket and darted for the elevator.

  * * *

  “If we’re keeping you awake, Ms. Templeton, maybe you should consider another line of work.”

  Greer stared guiltily up at Judge Manetti as she tried to stop her yawn. It was a futile effort, though.

  Just because she’d been at the hospital until three this morning celebrating the birth of her new nephew didn’t mean she’d been allowed a respite from her duties at work.

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor,” she said once she could speak clearly. In the year since Steve Manetti had gone from being a fellow attorney to being a municipal court judge appointed by the mayor, she had almost gotten used to addressing him as such. But it had been hard, considering they’d been in elementary school together.

  She glanced down at her copy of the day’s docket before slipping the correct case file to the top of her pile. “My client, Mr. Jameson, wishes to enter a plea of not guilty.”

  Manetti looked resigned. “Of course he does.” He looked over his steepled fingers at the skinny man standing hunched beside her. “Is that correct, Mr. Jameson?”

  Johnny Jameson nodded jerkily. Every motion since he’d entered the courtroom betrayed the fact that he was high on something. Undoubtedly meth, which was what he was charged with possessing. Again. “Yessir.”

  Manetti looked at Greer, then down at his court calendar. “First available looks like the second Thursday of December.”

  She made a note. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  Judge Manetti looked at the clock on the wall, then at the bailiff. “We’ll break for lunch now.”

  “All rise,” the bailiff intoned, and the small municipal courtroom filled with the rustling sounds of people standing. Manetti disappeared through his door and the courtroom started emptying.

  Greer closed her case file and fixed her gaze on her client. “Johnny, the judge just gave you four months. I advise you to clean up your act before trial. Understand me?”

  Johnny shrugged and twitched and avoided meeting her eyes. She shifted focus to Johnny’s wife behind him. “Katie? Do you want another copy of the list of programs I gave you before?”

  “No, ma’am.” Katie Jameson was petite and polite and as clean as her husband was not. “Johnny’s gonna be just fine by then. I promise you.”

  Greer dearly wished she could believe it. “All right, then.” She pushed her files into her briefcase and shouldered the strap. “You know how to reach me if you need me. Mr. Chatham will be in touch with you to go through your testimony before December.”

  Johnny grunted a reply and shuffled his way out of the courtroom.

  “You’re a lot nicer than Mr. Chatham,” Katie said, watching her husband go. “I wish you could handle Johnny’s trial.”

  Greer smiled. “Don’t worry. You and Johnny will be in good hands.”

  “Well, thank you for everything you’ve done so far.”

  It was a rare day when Greer received thanks for her service. More often than not, she busted her butt negotiating a deal for her client only to have him or her walk away without a single word of appreciation. She shook Katie’s hand. “You’re welcome, Katie. Take care of yourself, okay? I meant it when I said you can call if you need me.”

  The young woman nodded, ducking her chin a little, then hurried after her husband.

  Greer stifled another yawn as she walked out of the courtroom. She had two hours before her next appearance. If she’d had more than a few dollars left in her bank account after spending most of her paycheck on bills, she would have gone down to Josephine’s for a sandwich. Instead, she walked back to her office, where she closed the door and kicked off her pumps. Then she sat down at her desk, and with a good old peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich in one hand and a pencil in the other, she started in on the messages she hadn’t been able to respond to before morning court.

  She’d been at it for barely an hour when her office door opened and her boss tossed another stack of papers on her desk. “We’re not getting an intern this round. There were only two available and the other offices needed them more.” He pointed at the papers he’d left. “Plead all those out.”

  She swallowed the bite of sandwich that had momentarily stuck to the roof of her mouth and thumbed the latest pile. “What if they don’t all want to plead?” She knew the futility of the question, but asked out of habit.

  “Talk them into it,” he said, and then left as unceremoniously as he’d entered. He always said that. Even though he knew some cases and some defendants never would plead.

  Or should.

  She glanced at the clock above the door. She started to lift her sandwich to her mouth, but her phone rang and she answered it. “Public defender’s office.”

  There was a faint hesitation before a female spoke. “I’m calling about the job posting? The one for a nanny?”

  Greer sat up straighter.

  “This is the right number, isn’t it?” The woman had a faint accent that Greer couldn’t place. “You said public defender’s office?”

  “Yes, yes, it’s the right number.” She set her sandwich down on the plastic wrap. “I’m Greer Templeton. I represent—” She cringed, realizing how that might sound. “I’m assisting a friend with his search for a nanny.”

  “He’s not in trouble with the law?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “That’s a relief,” the
woman said with a little laugh. “The last thing I desire is another job that leaves me wanting. I prefer something that will be steady. And lasting. Your post said you’re—he, your friend—is looking for a live-in? Is that written in stone?”

  “It’s probably negotiable. Why don’t you give me your contact information and you can discuss it with him directly.”

  “Very good. My name is Eliane Dupre.”

  “Would you mind spelling—”

  The caller laughed lightly. “Like Elaine but reverse the i and a. It’s French.”

  Greer immediately imagined a beautiful, chic Parisian singing French lullabies to Layla while Ryder looked on. She cleared her throat, and her head of the image. “Is that where you’re from? France?”

  “Switzerland, actually. I moved to the States a few years ago with my husband. Alas, that didn’t work out, but here I am. I’m a citizen,” she said quickly, “in case that is a concern.”

  Her right to work should have been more of a concern to Greer, but her imagination was still going bananas. Swiss? Had Maria in The Sound of Music been Swiss? She sure got her man. No, that was Austria.

  Still, the loving governess had captured the heart of the children and their father.

  She shook her head at her own nonsense, making notes as Eliane provided her phone number and an address in Weaver in her musical, accented voice.

  “You understand that the location where you’d be working is fairly remote?”

  “Yes. Quite to my liking.”

  “How long have you lived in Weaver?”

  “I’ve only been here a few weeks. I’m staying with an acquaintance while I look for employment. Shall I expect a call from your friend, then?”

  There was no reason to hesitate, but Greer still felt like she had to push her way through the conversation. “Yes, I’ll get your information to him as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you so much. Have a lovely day.”