The Cowboy's Unexpected Baby. Stephanie Dees

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      Abby picked up the diaper-changing paraphernalia and tucked it into the diaper bag, trying to ignore the warm feeling in her chest as she watched Garrett’s face soften. “So how does one end up being surprise guardian to an infant?”

      He glanced up. “She was left on my doorstep this morning.”

      “What?” Abby gaped at him. It sounded like something from the plot of a TV movie. “Do you know who left her there?”

      He swayed back and forth as Charlotte’s eyelids fluttered closed. “Her mom is a former client. I was her law guardian when she was in foster care.”

      “Maybe this is an obvious question, but how’d she know where you live? I’d guess that’s not something you share with your clients on a regular basis.”

      “No. My brothers and I own a ranch and we have some horses and goats and cows. Last spring, we invited a bunch of foster families out for a picnic. Brooklyn was one of those.” He shrugged. “It seemed like such a small thing at the time.”

      “It’s a nice thing. I wouldn’t second-guess it now.” She put her hand on his arm and his dark brown eyes darted up to meet hers. She swallowed hard. “So, um…she just left the baby on your porch?”

      “She also left signed papers giving me custody—technically a delegation of parental authority—but I have no idea if that will stand up to scrutiny. To make matters more complicated, I’m a mandatory reporter. I can’t just pretend that a baby didn’t appear on my front porch. I have to report this to family services.”

      His eyes were steady behind the lenses of his dark-rimmed glasses and Abby realized that momentary flash of attraction hadn’t gone away. Instead, she found herself drawn to find out more about him. His laugh lines told her he was a man who smiled often, his gentleness with the baby revealing a kind heart.

      Oh, girl, get a grip on that wild imagination. She had no space in her life right now for any kind of entanglement, romantic or otherwise, even if she did that kind of thing. Which she didn’t. She had to focus on rebuilding her life. Or building a new life?

      Whatever—she had to focus. “Do you know how to reach the mother?”

      “I tried calling her. Or at least the last number I had for her, but I didn’t get an answer.”

      “Tough situation.” Abby paused a moment, not sure if she should even ask the next question. “Do you…want to be her legal guardian?”

      He looked down into Charlotte’s guileless face, raised one shoulder and let it drop with another sigh. “I don’t know what I want. I want to make this better—for everyone.”

      Abby nodded slowly. “I’m familiar with that feeling. If I can help, let me know.”

      “Thanks.” With Charlotte firmly asleep, he laid her gently into her car seat and eased himself free. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

      The office space was open, industrial almost, with three small offices and the receptionist’s desk on one side of the room. The walls of the offices were glass panels which, now that she considered it, was a thoughtful choice. Enough privacy for confidentiality but enough visibility for everyone’s safety. Something she could appreciate these days.

      “Before Wynn joined the practice, the whole space was open. It was just a few chairs and a desk.”

      By the front door, there was a cozy seating area. Behind that a conference table and, in the very back of the room, a small kitchenette. The overall effect was warmth from the exposed brick and reclaimed wood, but with enough polish that it would give clients a sense they were in good hands. “It’s really a remarkable space. I can see that you both had a hand in designing it.”

      “Thanks. I like it.”

      A quick look at the baby reassured Abby that Charlotte was still sleeping, so she followed him across the room for a closer look at the individual offices. Elvis lifted his head to track her movement.

      “This one is Wynn’s, if you couldn’t tell from the desk. Her husband Latham made it.”

      Like Wynn herself, the small office managed to convey chic and approachable at the same time. The desk was a smooth concrete surface over reclaimed wood supports. It was bare except for a closed laptop and a small bird’s nest with four hand-carved eggs. “I love it. It looks just like her.”

      Garrett’s office was next to Wynn’s. In contrast to Wynn’s pristine office, his space was…lived in.

      “I like a creative organization system, as you can see.” Garrett grinned.

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