It seemed the more she stared at the infant, the more this little girl became her own person. With each passing second, her face became more distinctly different from Gage’s or Broderick’s.
Glenna shook her head while swaying to rock the baby. The swishing movement calmed her as much as it did the little babe. With a slow exhalation, she said, “It’s okay.” The words steadied her. “Don’t tiptoe around or worry about what needs to be said. The most important thing is that we focus on this child and making sure she’s safe and healthy.”
Broderick nodded tightly. “We should contact the police. She could be a kidnapped child.”
“Oh, God,” Glenna gasped, and studied the baby’s face again. Such innocence, unaware of the chaos in her world. Thank God. “I never considered that possibility. We should check with the authorities.”
Broderick’s brother Marshall—the middle Steele son—took the papers from Jeannie. “I’ll meet with our security team here and we’ll contact the police. We can find out if there are missing child alerts, and let them know the baby is here.”
“Thank you, son,” Jack said.
Glenna’s mind began to clear. “We should go inside where it’s warm and dry. We also need to make sure she has fresh formula.” She found comfort in taking control as she charged toward the towering redwood mansion. “I’m assuming the note doesn’t say when she ate last. She could be hungry any moment now, and she’s been through enough change without having to be uncomfortable for even an instant.”
Broderick scooped up a pink checkered diaper bag and walked beside her. “Apparently, she came with this.” He unzipped the sack. “It looks like there are some of her things inside.”
What was he thinking right now? This could be his child. Had that registered with him? Glenna couldn’t envision him as a single father.
Truly, she couldn’t envision much of anything at the moment. “I’m not sure I trust anything dropped off by a stranger who dumped her baby with people the poor little tyke has never met. At least we can use the formula brand to go shopping.” She climbed the wooden steps to the back deck of the Steele mansion, all too aware of Broderick’s bracing hand on her back. A steadying and unsettling assurance all at once. “Bottom line, this baby is an innocent and she needs our help.”
Her thoughts winged fast to the reality of sharing this baby with Broderick, even for a short time. She couldn’t help but feel the strength of his touch, and yes, a tingle of awareness where each of his fingers settled on her back. He would make a powerful partner for a woman.
And she couldn’t deny that seeing him in this new light was flipping her world upside down.
* * *
Broderick paced around the lodge’s great room.
Even in this expansive space, he felt caged in, waiting for Glenna to join him with the baby…
The baby.
Potentially his baby.
Fleur.
He didn’t know what he thought about the possibility of being a father. Of what this would mean for his attraction to Glenna or the fact that he wanted to pursue her even in the middle of family drama.
He couldn’t help but think about the possessiveness he’d felt earlier when he’d placed his arm around Glenna. Seeing the way she cradled the child—possibly his child—had burned through him with a fierceness that rattled him even now.
Each successive lap on the thick rug brought more questions, more unease.
Every stable aspect of his life had been yanked from him in a very short time.
Boots thudding off the carpet, Broderick made his way to the stone fireplace. Flames danced along the logs, casting orange-tinged shadows in the room lit only by a small table lamp.
A stranger walking in would mistake the space as soothing and luxurious. But right now, tension hummed so palpably through Broderick that he was sure it filled the space around him.
And he wasn’t sure how to fix the world again.
He paused in front of the fireplace, kneeling to stoke the flames to a crackling blaze. One of the logs settled with a shower of sparks.
Hungry for normalcy, he surveyed the room. The fireplace wall was dominated by massive moose antlers—a family heirloom that had belonged to his great-grandfather when Steele Industries was just getting started. Back when Alaska was a wilderness to be conquered. Tall ceilings normally provided an airy balance to the thick leather sofas that filled the room, but did nothing to alleviate the pressure and confusion jackhammering in Broderick’s mind.
Pacing again, he wandered with determined footfalls to the other side of the room, to a painting of an Alaskan forest. He was no art aficionado, but he appreciated the vivid colors and strong brushstrokes that seemed to capture so perfectly the nuance of light in early springtime.