Guarding His Secret Son, page 1
The crack of gunfire echoed through the night.
“Down! Get down!” Garrett yelled. He held the infant carrier behind his back with one hand and fired toward the shadow of a man crouched near one of the parked cars.
He missed, the bullet pinging off the side of the vehicle. Garrett hoped the gunfire would bring backup, but the parking lot remained quiet.
Too quiet.
Had the gunman left? No, he didn’t think so.
Another crack of gunfire confirmed his suspicion. Garrett placed himself between Liz and Micah as he returned fire. He had no idea who had come after his son.
Crouched behind Garrett, Liz had bent over Micah’s infant carrier, protecting the baby with her body.
What in the world was going on? How had the gunman who’d shot Micah’s mother known to come here?
And why would anyone want to hurt an innocent baby?
Laura Scott has always loved romance and read faith-based books by Grace Livingston Hill in her teenage years. She’s thrilled to have been given the opportunity to retire from thirty-eight years of nursing to become a full-time author. Laura has published over thirty books for Love Inspired Suspense. She has two adult children and lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband of thirty-five years. Please visit Laura at laurascottbooks.com, as she loves to hear from her readers.
Books by Laura Scott
Love Inspired Suspense
Hiding in Plain Sight
Amish Holiday Vendetta
Deadly Amish Abduction
Tracked Through the Woods
Kidnapping Cold Case
Guarding His Secret Son
Justice Seekers
Soldier’s Christmas Secrets
Guarded by the Soldier
Wyoming Mountain Escape
Hiding His Holiday Witness
Rocky Mountain Standoff
Fugitive Hunt
Mountain Country K-9 Unit
Baby Protection Mission
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Guarding His Secret Son
Laura Scott
But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.
—Luke 18:16–17
This book is dedicated to all the wonderful midwives taking care of pregnant moms. You are a blessing to so many.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Ambush in the Mountains by Mary Alford
ONE
“Please save my baby!”
Midwife Liz Templeton was doing her best to do just that. This stranger, Rebecca, had shown up at her clinic in Liberty, Wisconsin, with a bullet lodged in her chest and in full-blown labor. Liz had placed a pressure dressing over the bullet wound before turning her attention to the baby.
“Easy now, I see this little guy’s head.” Liz kept her tone reassuring. She’d had many unusual cases arrive on her doorstep, but a pregnant woman in labor suffering a gunshot wound was a first. “With the next contraction, you need to push.”
“Okay.” Rebecca panted, a layer of sweat over her brow. Her face was so pale because of the pain and the blood loss from her injury.
“It would be better if I could call 911,” Liz repeated for the second time.
“No! Please don’t. He’ll find and kill me. Please!”
There wasn’t time to ask questions about who “he” was and why he’d shot her. Not when the baby’s birth was imminent.
“Push,” Liz said. “Come on, Rebecca, push!”
Her wounded patient did her best, bearing down with the contraction. But Rebecca was weak, and the baby’s head didn’t breach the birth canal.
“Harder! Push harder!” Liz ordered.
With a low groan, Rebecca tried again, putting all her effort into the push. This time, Liz was able to gently guide the baby’s head toward her. She quickly cleared the infant’s nose and mouth with a bulb suction and towel.
“Good job. He’s almost here. Come on, Rebecca, you can do it!”
Tears streaked down Rebecca’s cheeks as she panted, waiting for the next contraction. Then she gave another push, and the baby was born.
“You did it!” Liz wrapped the baby in the towel, then clamped the umbilical cord. The little guy cried, showing off a nice set of lungs. Once she’d snipped the cord, she brought the crying baby up to Rebecca. “Isn’t he beautiful? Meet your son.”
“Yes. Micah. Beaut...” Rebecca’s eyes drifted shut.
“Rebecca?” Panic seized Liz by the throat. She turned and placed the wrapped newborn in the warmer, then rushed to her patient. “Look at me, Rebecca. Open your eyes!”
The injured woman opened them just enough to look at her. “Take Micah to Deputy Garrett Nichols.” Rebecca’s tone was barely more than a whisper. “Tell him—keep his son safe.”
Liz didn’t understand. She peeked beneath the gauze over Rebecca’s chest wound, horrified to see the right side of her chest blowing up like a balloon. The tension pneumothorax must have happened when she’d pushed to deliver the baby. “Who shot you, Rebecca. Garrett?”
“No!” Rebecca’s eyes shot open, meeting her gaze. “Promise me. Take Micah to Garrett! He’ll keep Micah safe...”
“I will.” Ignoring the crying baby, Liz took a large needle and quickly inserted it between the fourth and fifth ribs along the right side of Rebecca’s chest. If she didn’t relieve the tension of the pneumothorax, the pressure would eventually stop Rebecca’s heart. A whooshing sound indicated the air had been released, but then blood began pouring out of the opening.
No! Too much blood! Liz was losing her!
She needed to call 911. Unfortunately, her clinic was near the southernmost tip of the Oneida Native American reservation in the middle of nowhere. The closest hospital was eighteen miles away. She quickly made the call, requesting an ambulance, then turned toward the baby.
“Hey, Micah, it’s okay.” She gathered the baby close, knowing how important skin-to-skin contact was. She couldn’t hold him for long, though, and quickly wrapped him in a soft blanket and set him in the warmer. She hurried back to her patient.
“Come on, Rebecca, stay with me.” Liz attempted to start an IV, but her veins were already collapsed from blood loss. Desperate, she inserted an intraosseous needle to inject fluids directly into Rebecca’s femur. It seemed barbaric, but it was her patient’s only chance.
Liz opened the clamp so that the fluids ran wide open. Whispering words of comfort to the baby, she checked Rebecca’s vital signs. The new mom’s skin was pale and cold. Too cold. Her muscles went slack beneath Liz’s fingers; her head lolled to the side.
No, no, no! Liz checked for a pulse.
Nothing.
She pulled a stool over and jumped up to start CPR. She placed her hands on Rebecca’s chest and began giving compressions. That’s when she noticed that with every push downward, the pool of blood on the floor grew larger. The bullet must have nicked an artery. After one round of compressions, she felt for a pulse.
Still nothing.
Stifling a sob, she did another round, then another. But then she stepped off the stool. It was no use. CPR wouldn’t help if there wasn’t blood to circulate through Rebecca’s body. She didn’t have the luxury of packed red blood cells available in the clinic, and that was the only thing that would save Rebecca now. That, and surgery to repair the torn artery.
Bowing her head to offer a quick prayer, she mentally kicked herself for not calling 911 sooner. She should have anticipated the extensive internal bleeding. Her expertise was childbirth, not traumatic gunshot wounds! But the baby had already been crowning, so that was where she’d focused her efforts.
Now it was too late.
But not for Micah. Rebecca had been shot. Why, Liz had no idea. She hurried back to the warmer. She quickly checked Micah’s height and weight, satisfied to note he was seven pounds, five ounces. She took a moment to wash Rebecca’s blood from her hands, then used a soft washcloth to bathe Micah. After dressing him in a diaper and a blue onesie, she wrapped him in a clean blanket and carried him with her to her small living area adjacent to the clinic.
Thankfully, she kept a stock of supplies for her low-income mothers, including diapers, infant formula and bottles. Moving through the kitchen, she packed the items in a large diaper bag. As an afterthought, she tossed in the small stuffed bunny she’d bought all those years ago for her daughter. Then she crossed over to the computer she used for her notes. The reservation had internet access, although it wasn’t great.
Shifting Micah to one arm, she single-handedly ty
Green Lake was sixty miles from her clinic. What had Rebecca been doing here near the rez? Why hadn’t she gone to Green Lake, if that’s where Micah’s father was? Liz hesitated, gazing down at Micah. He’d stopped crying now, having fallen asleep against her. Was she really going to do this? Normal protocol would be to call the Department of Health and Human Services, who would put the baby in foster care.
But Garrett Nichols was the baby’s father. He deserved a chance to see his son. Leaving Rebecca behind didn’t sit well. Maybe she should wait for the ambulance to arrive. Then she remembered the bullet in Rebecca’s chest. No, she couldn’t take the risk. If there was any remote possibility the baby was in danger, the best thing she could do was take him to Deputy Garrett Nichols, as his mother had asked—no, had begged.
Besides, dropping a baby off at a police station was allowed and protected under the Safe Haven Act. That might still be a stretch, though, because Liz wasn’t Micah’s mother.
For a moment, the memory of her stillborn daughter flashed in her mind. The ache was always there, a constant reminder of what she’d lost.
Willow was gone, but Micah needed her now.
She would not fail this innocent baby the way she’d failed her own daughter.
* * *
Garrett looked up from his desk when Sheriff Liam Harland rapped on the door. His boss’s expression was full of concern. “Go home, Garrett.”
“I will.” He tried to smile, but it wasn’t easy. The last ten months had been tough. The day he’d lost a fellow officer in a drug bust, he’d also lost his zest for life.
And his faith.
“I mean it, Garrett.” Liam’s scowl deepened. “You’re not to blame for Jason’s death.”
He was, but Liam was too nice to say it. Avoiding the topic, Garrett gestured at the computer. “I’m almost finished. I’ll be out of here soon.”
Liam sighed, obviously not believing him. “If I hear that you slept here in the office again, I’m going to put you on a leave of absence. Understand?”
He winced and nodded. “Yeah, sure. I hear you.”
Mumbling something about a bullheaded cop, Liam turned away. Garrett waited until he heard the door of the sheriff’s department headquarters close before dropping his head in his hands.
The last thing he wanted was a leave of absence. Yet he also knew he was walking a very fine line. If he didn’t pull himself together soon, he’d be no good to the other deputies they had working for them.
Their newest deputies on the team, Wyatt and Abby Kane, were doing great. As soon as they hired a replacement for Jason—no easy task these days, as rural cops were hard to find—he planned to submit his resignation.
Liam would try to talk him out of it, but he’d insist. The team would be better off without him. Wyatt had been an FBI agent and would be a great replacement as chief deputy. Besides, Garrett wasn’t sure he had it in him to continue his career. If only he’d gotten to the scene soon enough to save Jason...
But he hadn’t. The young officer, barely twenty-five years old, had died. Because he’d been too late.
Stop it, he told himself sternly. They were still short-staffed. That meant he had a job to do.
A loud banging on the front door made him frown. He rose from his desk and strode across the open desk area. Since it was summer, their peak season, he had all deputies out on patrol, leaving him to man the headquarters alone.
His eyebrows levered up in surprise when he saw a pretty woman with long, straight dark hair, pounding on the door. She wore bloodstained scrubs, which puzzled him. Then his gaze dropped to the baby carrier on the ground beside her.
“Deputy Nichols!” She pounded again. “I need to speak to Chief Deputy Garrett Nichols!”
Garrett unlocked and opened the door. He might have expected to see Rebecca, if not for the fact that she’d told him to leave her alone. Honoring her wishes, he’d stopped calling, but he had wondered if she’d just show up out of the blue again, the way she had ten months ago.
The woman standing there was a complete stranger. Someone he’d never seen before in his life.
“I’m Deputy Nichols.” He gave her a stern look. “Who are you? Is there danger? Do you need police protection?”
“Oh, I’m so glad it’s you!” The dark-haired woman turned and picked up the baby carrier. “May I come inside? I—Yes, need police protection, but this may take a while to explain.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but he opened the door in a silent invitation. She hurried through, just as the baby began to wail.
“Oh, dear, Micah may need to be fed.” She looked a bit flustered. “Is there a place we can talk while I give him a bottle?”
“My office.” He’d heard of police departments finding babies on their doorstep, but in his ten-year tenure here in Green Lake, that had never happened. The way this woman attended to the baby, though, didn’t give him the impression this was a Safe Haven situation.
“Thanks.” The dark-haired woman set the baby carrier on his desk, then rummaged through the diaper bag. “I need this filled with warm water. Not too hot,” she cautioned. “And only to the line, okay? The formula is in there, so you need to shake it to make sure it dissolves.”
“Who are you?” he asked again, taking the bottle from her fingers.
“Liz Templeton.” She glanced down at her bloodstained scrubs with a grimace. “Sorry to show up like this. I’m a midwife for the Oneida Native American reservation.”
That explained her Native American looks. Straight black hair and light brown skin, but her bright green eyes indicated she had non–Native American blood in her veins, too.
Curious about why she was here, he took the bottle and filled it with warm water, knowing a bit about the process from watching Liam and Shanna take care of their daughter, Ciara.
When he returned to the office, Liz had the baby in her arms. “Thanks so much.” She plucked the bottle from his fingers and gave it to the baby.
Watching her, he propped his hip on the edge of his desk, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Had she delivered this baby? If so, where was the infant’s mother? “Why are you here?”
“To find you.” She looked up at him, her gaze intense. “Sorry, I should start at the beginning. Do you know a woman named Rebecca?”
Hearing the name of the woman he’d once loved was a sucker punch to the gut. “Yes.”
“She gave birth to Micah in my clinic, then told me to bring him to you. His father. Because you would keep him safe.”
Micah? His child? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d spent the night of Jason’s death with Rebecca, allowing their close friendship to go too far. He’d always cared for her, even loved her, but when he’d awoken the next day, she was gone. He’d called, and she assured him that as much as she cared for him, too, she didn’t love him the way he deserved to be loved. He’d known then, she’d only come to stay in Green Lake as a temporary refuge. Not a permanent move. Especially when she informed him that she was heading back to Chicago, and that he needed to let her go to live his own life.
They’d always been close friends, having met as kids during summer vacations in Green Lake. He’d loved her but had known their relationship wouldn’t go anywhere. Which only made his actions the night he’d lost Jason more despicable. He shouldn’t have taken advantage of Rebecca’s sweetness, her caring. And what he’d thought was her love.
But he had. And now?
“Are you saying Micah is mine?” He pushed the words through his tight throat. This couldn’t be happening. Why hadn’t Rebecca called him? Warned him? Told him they were going to have a child? “Where is Rebecca now? Why do you have the baby?”
Liz’s expression filled with compassion. “I’m sorry, Deputy, but Rebecca died of a bullet wound to the chest minutes after I delivered Micah. I tried to save her, but she lost too much blood, and I don’t store blood products in my clinic.”
