LITMIR.BIZ

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the baby on her shoulder and patting her back, Maggie stared at him. “The baby?”

      “Of course the baby! What else could I mean?”

      Fed up with the going-nowhere conversation, she straightened her shoulders. “Look, Mr. McKinley, let’s start at the beginning. Whose baby is this?”

      “Mine.” His single word seemed to come out reluctantly, and he looked away.

      Maggie stared at him, blinking rapidly at the unexpected answer. “Yours? You’re the father?”

      “Yes, damn it!”

      “What’s her name?”

      “How do you know it’s a girl?” he demanded.

      “She’s wearing pink.”

      “Oh. Yeah.”

      “Her name?” Maggie prompted.

      “It’s—Damn, I can’t remember!”

      Maggie gasped as if he’d revealed a heinous crime. “You don’t know your own daughter’s name?”

      His cheeks flushed. “I...I was in shock. You don’t understand. I didn’t even know about her until they...they handed her to me. I know they mentioned—” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s an oldfashioned name. It’ll come to me.”

      “I can’t believe you don’t know your—”

      “Lady, cut me some slack! I told you—it’s on the papers I have in the car.” He turned to leave, and Maggie was filled with fear that he wouldn’t return.

      “Where are you going?”

      He stared at her in surprise. “To the car to find out her name. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

      “No! I mean...how do I know you’ll come back?”

      Her question didn’t make him happy. That much was evident by his glowering face. Suddenly he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick wallet. “Here’s my driver’s license, my money and my credit cards. Okay?” He laid the wallet down on the counter and strode to the door.

      Maggie stood there, holding the baby, staring at the wallet as if she feared it would try to get up and run away by itself.

      Two minutes later he reappeared with a small bag. “Everything’s in here,” he muttered, digging around. Triumphantly he pulled out papers. “Virginia Lynn. That’s her name, Virginia Lynn.”

      Maggie pulled the baby away from her shoulder. “Ginny? Is that your name, sweetheart?”

      The child hiccuped, then reached for Maggie’s dark hair.

      “When was she last fed?”

      “They gave her a bottle at four, because I hadn’t called. I remember they told me four o’clock.”

      He acted as if he deserved a prize. “Okay, then she’s probably hungry. What is she supposed to eat?” Maggie asked.

      “Hell, lady, why are you asking me all these questions? I don’t know anything about babies. That’s why I need a woman.”

      Maggie let her lids settle gently over her eyes to hide herself from the angry man in front of her. But he didn’t go away. She knew because she could hear his raspy breathing, as if he’d run a race...or was upset.

      “Did they include anything in the bag?”

      “The bottle’s in here, but it’s empty.” He dug it out and handed it to her.

      “Wanda?” she called over her shoulder. “Could you clean this bottle and fill it with milk?”

      “Whole milk or skim?”

      Maggie looked helplessly at Josh McKinley, and he shrugged his shoulders. She moved closer to hand him the baby.

      He backed away. “Hell, lady, you aren’t going to give up because I don’t know what kind of milk, are you?”

      Exasperated, she said, “No! But I thought you could hold the baby while I call my sister. My nephew is almost a year old. Kate will know what to do.”

      He reluctantly took the baby back into his arms, holding her against his body, as if he’d learned from watching Maggie.

      She headed for the phone, and the baby started crying again.

      “She hates me,” he protested, following Maggie.

      “Don’t be silly. She’s probably not used to a man’s voice. Speak softly.” She dialed Kate’s number.

      “Kate, do you know what kind of milk a baby should have?” she asked as soon as Kate answered.

      “Maggie? What?” her sister asked.

      “A man is here with a little baby, and we’re fixing a bottle, but I don’t know if she should have skim milk or whole milk.”

      “How old is she?”

      Maggie hated to ask the man for more information, but she had no choice. Not that she expected him to know. “How old?”

      To her surprise he said, “Eight months. She was born last October.”

      She repeated the information to Kate.

      “Whole milk is fine. She can probably eat a little mashed potatoes, too, if they’re not heavily seasoned. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

      Maggie explained about Josh McKinley.

      “Hey, maybe your sister could take her in tonight, just until I can arrange things,” the man suggested.

      Maggie suddenly realized he was standing right next to her, his shoulders brushing hers. “I doubt—”

      “Ask her.”

      “Kate, he wants to know if you can take Ginny tonight.”

      “He what?” Kate squawked. “No, no, I can’t. Nate has come down with the chicken pox from a child in his play group. I don’t think it would be good to—”

      “Oh, no. You’re right.”

      “Look, I’ll pay—” Josh urged.

      “Her baby has the chicken pox,” Maggie explained.

      Before the man could respond, Ginny whimpered again.

      Kate spoke before Maggie could. “You’d better get off the phone and feed her. And don’t forget to change her diaper. She’s probably wet.”

      Maggie hung up the phone. “Do you have any dry diapers? When did you last change her?”

      “Change her?” Dawning realization stole over the man’s handsome features. An unpleasant realization. “You mean—” He gestured to the baby’s bottom.

      “Of course that’s what I mean. You haven’t changed her, have you?” she asked as her own realization occurred. “How long have you had her?”

      “A couple of hours. I couldn’t figure out what to do.”

      “Do you have diapers?”

      “You’ll have to look,” he insisted, clutching the baby against him with two hands, as if he feared she’d run away.

      Maggie opened the bag and found five unused disposable diapers. “Good. I’ll show you where you can change her while I fix some potatoes and her bottle.”

      “Potatoes?”

      “My sister said she could eat them. This way.”

      “Wait a minute!” he gasped as he followed her. “I can’—I mean, I’ve never—You do it!”

      “It’s not difficult, Mr. McKinley. And she is your daughter.” She wasn’t about to admit

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