Oh. My.
They were nearly to the churchyard when Dave stopped suddenly, looking over at the nativity. There was a thin film of snow on the tops of the statues, but it really did look lovely, especially with the single small floodlight casting a glow on the scene. She looked up at him and saw a frown marring his face, his brows pulled together in the middle.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Stay here. I thought I saw something.”
She waited as he stomped through the snow on the church lawn. Down the block, she noticed as a person jogged to a parked car, got in, and wasted no time driving away. She looked back at Dave, whose body blocked her view of the manger. More perplexing was the way he stared at it, his body utterly still.
“What on earth are you doing?” she called out.
A thin, plaintive sound traveled on the cold air, and she looked around to see if anyone was passing close by with a stroller or baby in their arms. But the crowd had dispersed and there was barely anyone on the street now. Her gaze turned back to Dave and her heart thumped against her ribs at the same time as her stomach seemed to drop to her feet.
He was standing in front of the manger. And instead of a T-shirt and plastic doll, he appeared to be holding a baby, wrapped in a red blanket.
Chapter Three
Awake now, the baby cried a bit, a helpless little wail that made Dave hold him or her a little closer to his jacket, tucking the blanket more firmly around the tiny form.
“Dave?”
He stepped forward. “I think we have a big problem, Charlie.”
She rushed forward, stirring up snow until she reached him and pulled back a corner of the blanket. “Oh my God. This baby can’t be more than a few weeks old. We need to get inside where it’s warm.”
“The pub?”
She frowned. “I guess. No, wait. My office is only a few blocks over. He … she … needs to be examined. Did you see anyone? What about that car that rushed away?” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped out her cell phone, walking as she talked. Dave followed right at her heels.
“Hi. It’s Dr. Yang from the clinic. Who’s on duty tonight?”
There was a momentary pause as the person on the other end answered.
“Can you have him meet me at the clinic right away? I’m on my way now.” She ended the call and then automatically dialed again.
“Josh? It’s Charlie. I have to take a rain check on tonight. Something’s come up.” There was another pause and Dave watched as Charlie’s face wrinkled with annoyance. “No, not that. We just found … something … at the nativity. I’ll explain it all later. I don’t have time right now.”
She hung up and nodded at him, all business. “Let’s hurry. The police are on their way and we have to get this little one inside and out of the cold.”
The wind had picked up a bit and Dave unzipped his coat partway, then tucked the bundle inside, cozy between his body and the protective nylon shell. Charlie smiled and said, “Great idea” as she led him to the corner and left, going up the street, turning left again at the next corner until they were standing outside a house that had a floodlit signing announcing JEWELL COVE MEDICAL CLINIC.
She dug in her purse for keys, went to the back door and opened up, then quickly disarmed the security system.
“Come on in,” she invited, flicking on a light.
The reception area was bathed in a welcoming glow. The office was warmer than outside, but still chilly, and Dave stood by feeling helpless as Charlie bustled around, turning up the heat and flicking on lights. She’d gone from sweet, blushing Charlie to super-efficient Dr. Yang in the blink of an eye. Now he understood a little better why she might have earned the nickname Dr. Pit Bull.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Let’s have a look at this little one.”
Dave looked down inside his coat. He must have thrown off some good heat because the baby was sleeping, little tiny lips moving in and out as it breathed. As gently as he possibly could, he slid his opposite hand inside and cradled the baby’s bottom in his wide palm, using his shoulder and upper arm to assist him in shifting the baby out of his coat.
“You’re good with babies,” she offered. She reached for the bundle and took it into her hands. They were good hands, he realized. Despite her small size, her hands were strong and capable. Ordinary—no polish, just smooth, rounded nails, and as their fingertips brushed, her skin was soft against his. Yesterday they’d had the thickness of gloves between them. Now, as their hands touched while shifting the baby, the contact felt somehow intimate. It was the damnedest thing.
Cradling the infant in the crook of her elbow, Charlie peeled back the blanket. The baby was dressed in a blue fuzzy sleeper and a thin stretchy hat.