He couldn't believe his sister had entrusted her son to
Shaye Bartholomew rather than to him. Still in shock even
after two days of traveling, Dylan Malloy stepped inside
the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. His gaze focused
intently on the woman seated by Timmy's tiny bed...the
woman who had custody of his nephew.
Walter Ludlow's call had been a severe blow, and Dylan was
still reeling from it. His lawyer and long-time mentor,
calling Tasmania from Wild Horse Junction, Wyoming, had
hastily told him, "There's no easy way to say this. Julia
and Will were in a serious accident. Will died on impact.
Julia hung on until Timmy was delivered, then we lost her,
too."
We lost her, too.
The words wouldn't fade out. They'd been a shout in
Dylan's head ever since he'd heard them. Seconds later
Walter had followed them with, "Julia gave Shaye
Bartholomew legal guardianship. She didn't want to burden
you again."
Dylan couldn't wrap his mind, let alone his heart, around
losing Julia. The grief enveloped him like a dark shadow
that continuously seeped through him, leaving no room for
anything else.
"Fight, Timmy. Fight." Dylan heard Shaye Bartholomew
encouraging Timmy, her voice breaking.
The doctor had explained Timmy's condition to Dylan. Born
twenty-eight weeks into Julia's pregnancy, he was on a
ventilator to help him breathe normally. He had a good
chance to survive. But with so many tubes and wires
connected to him, that was hard for Dylan to believe.
Did Shaye already think Timmy was hers? he wondered.
She hovered beside the baby, her lips moving silently.
Maybe in prayer?
Dylan's work as a wildlife photographer had taught him
stillness and patience. But now he had questions, and
Shaye Bartholomew held the answers.
After crossing the room, he pulled her attention from the
infant bed. "Miss Bartholomew?"
She gave a small sound of surprise when she saw him and
recognition dawned. They'd met at Julia's college
graduation. Shaye had been a year ahead of his sister, and
the two women had become friends.
"Mr. Malloy. I'm so sorry about Julia." Her eyes brimmed
with tears.
Why did he suddenly feel as if he wanted to take this
woman into his arms to give both of them some comfort?
Dylan knew he looked unkempt. He hadn't shaved in two
days, his hair was disheveled and needed a cut, his
sweatshirt was streaked with lines from being slept in.
"I got here as soon as I could." He'd been photographing
kangaroos when he'd gotten the call. That seemed like eons
ago.
Standing, Shaye let him come in closer to Timmy's bed.
Dylan could see the reflection of the fluorescent light on
her shoulder-length, coffee-brown hair and noticed the
sheen in her amber eyes. When their gazes locked, the
grief inside him shifted a bit, but he let it settle back
into place as he broke eye contact and stared down at his
nephew.
Timmy had sandy-brown hair and green eyes...like
Julia...like himself.
Softly, Shaye said, "During Julia's pregnancy we talked
about baby names. She said she wanted to name a girl after
her mother, a boy after her father. Your mother and
father."
Ironically, like Julia and her husband, their parents had
also been killed on a slippery road. That night, Family
Services had taken the two of them to a holding facility
in Cody. Back then, Dylan had had to break out of his
shock to take care of his sister. Now he had to break
through it to think about Julia's baby.
Forcing his attention back to Shaye, Dylan couldn't keep
the edge from his tone when he said, "I want to know how
you came to be named Timmy's guardian. I know Will's
mother was too frail to consider —"
One of the monitors began to beep loudly. At once, a nurse
appeared at Timmy's bedside while another rushed to call a
doctor.
A physician in a white coat hurried in. One of the nurses
put a hand on Shaye's arm and spoke to Dylan. "Please wait
outside."
"I want to know what's happening," Dylan demanded, fear
for his nephew beating hard against his chest.
"We have to let them work." Shaye tugged at Dylan's
elbow. "They know what they're doing. The doctor will come
talk to us when they get him stabilized. We have to do
what's best for him. We're just in the way."
After another glance at the personnel around the baby's
bed, certainty dawned that he was in the way. Dylan pulled
from Shaye's clasp and strode to the door leading outside
the unit.
Had Dylan Malloy come back to mourn his sister? Or had he
returned to Wild Horse Junction to claim his nephew?
Shaye took a few shallow breaths, reaching deep inside for
the strength that had kept her going since the call about
Julia and Will. Once in the hall, she motioned to the
waiting room.
Instead of going in, Dylan paced. "I don't want to be that
far away." His gaze shot back to the NICU. "Surely someone
will tell us if he's going to make it."
When he ran his hand through his tawny hair, when she
glimpsed again the primordial pain in his green eyes, she
wished she could ease his grief. But no one could. "Have
you spoken with the doctor?"
"When I was waiting for my flight in London."
"Then you know this is all up to Timmy — how he responds
to the antibiotics and the help they're giving him."
"I understand that. I certainly don't understand
everything else. Why did Will have Julia out in bad
weather? She was almost seven months pregnant, for God's
sake!"
Understandably, Dylan was looking for somebody to blame,
as people did when tragedy struck, and goodness knew Dylan
and Julia had already experienced plenty of it. All Shaye
could do was to tell him what she knew.
"Julia had been cooped up inside for over a week due to
the bad weather. Will wouldn't even let her step onto a
snowy sidewalk because he was afraid she'd fall. But she
was going stir crazy. The morning of —" Shaye's voice
broke in spite of her effort to put her own emotion aside.
Clearing her throat, she went on. "The morning of the
accident, I stopped in to see her. She was in such a good
mood. She said she'd cajoled Will into taking her to the
Johnsons that night. The weather was supposed to hold and
not turn until early morning."
"The Johnsons practically live in the mountains," Dylan
muttered. "Those roads can be treacherous any time of the
year, let alone when there's snow on them." He swore and
turned away from her.
Unexpectedly, Shaye didn't know what to do, and that was
unusual for her. In her job as a social worker, she
routinely handled sticky situations. But this one was
personal. Something about this man touched her in an
elemental way, and that, as well as the crisis with Timmy,
made her uncertain.
Dylan faced her again, everything about him shouting
restrained energy, restrained emotion, restrained
frustration. "Did you know Julia was going to name you as
guardian?"
"Yes, I did," she answered quietly, bracing herself for
whatever came next.
The nerve in his jaw worked. "Julia spoke often of you,
Miss Bartholomew. I know you were good friends. But I need
to know how this...legacy came about."
"It's Shaye," she murmured, needing to be on a first-name
basis without knowing why. With a nod, she motioned to the
lounge again. "Let's sit down."
After a glance at the NICU, he followed her into the
waiting room. Although she lowered herself onto one of the
fabric-covered chairs, Dylan remained standing. She felt
like a schoolgirl sitting in front of a principal, which
was ridiculous. In her position as caseworker for the
department of family services in the county, she'd learned
to stand her ground. With two brothers to take care of,
she'd had to be assertive or she would have been snowed
under or trampled. However, in the presence of Dylan
Malloy, her confidence seemed to vanish.
Taking a breath, she plunged in. "You know Julia and I met
in college."
He nodded, waiting. "Since we were both from Wild Horse
Junction, we caught rides together from Laramie to come
home. At first I thought she was reserved. Then I found
out she just used reserve to protect herself. She told me
about what happened to your parents and about spending
time in foster care."
She remembered the story Julia had related about how Dylan
and Walter Ludlow had become friends. At eighteen, Dylan
had just graduated from high school and landed a job at
the local paper. He'd walked into the attorney's office
saying, "I need a lawyer to petition the court to become
my sister's legal guardian."
Julia had been eight and Dylan sixteen when they'd been
orphaned, and Dylan had known his sister was unbearably
unhappy in foster care. He'd moved heaven and earth to
gain custody of her. He'd made sure she was safe, happy
and secure until she'd gone to college. Then he'd left
Wild Horse Junction to follow his own dreams.
"Julia never stopped telling me how grateful she was that
you rescued her," she added softly.
"Not soon enough," he murmured, as if he was remembering
all too well.
"As soon as you could."
Seeming to ignore her comment, he said evenly,
"After you graduated, you went on for your masters."
"That's right. By the time I returned to Wild Horse, Julia
had met Will and they'd eloped."
"She told me she didn't want a big fancy wedding," Dylan
mused. "I wanted to give her one."
"I think Julia and Will just wanted to start their life
without fanfare. So many times she told me she wanted a
home and family and someplace to belong."
"She knew she could count on me," Dylan insisted.
"Yes, she knew that, but she also realized you'd
sacrificed for her for eight years. Eight years you put
your dreams aside for her. She knew how much being a
wildlife photographer meant to you."
"Not as much as she did," he protested quickly.
"You proved that," Shaye reassured him. "You stayed here
and worked on the paper when all you wanted to do was to
catch a plane to someplace exotic."
His green eyes became piercing in their intensity. "You
seem to know a lot about me." He rubbed the back of his
neck. "It's an uncomfortable feeling when I don't know
you. Have you had experience taking care of kids?"
"In my job I sometimes have to. But besides that — My
mother died when I was ten. I had brothers who were eight
and five. My father, a cardiologist, was gone a lot, so I
had to take care of them."