The Baby Discovery

“I know you’re crazy about the baby.”

“I am!” she confessed. “But that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Even in the semi-dark interior of the cab, his eyes blazed a hot blue. The problem is you, Mr. Broderick. I think I’ve fallen in love with you, and you only see me as a live-in nanny.

“It’s inevitable he would get attached to me. It would be a wrench for him when I have to leave. Cruel, in fact. He deserves to have someone around on a permanent basis, not just a month or two.”

“I couldn’t agree more, and I have a solution. In fact I would have suggested it in the beginning. But first I needed to find out if there was a man in your life.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Marry me.”

Captain Howard Stansbury of the U.S. Topographical engineers, who surveyed the valley of the Great Salt Lake in 1849, reported, “This valley is called Tuilla Valley.”

(sounds like Two-Willa).

The name comes from the Shoshoni Indian Language and is a Gosiute tongue variant, named for the Bear family, a Gosiute Indian family, some of whose members still reside in Tooele today.

THE BABY DISCOVERY

Rebecca Winters

To Janet and George, with love and gratitude for their invaluable help.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

A FREEZING gust of wind caused Zane Broderick to turn up the collar of his sheepskin jacket. An early December snowstorm had blown in, making for poor visibility in this remote wilderness.

It was the “lake effect” that gave Tooele its reputation for severe winter weather. Forty minutes from Salt Lake, the tiny Utah town received an overabundance of moisture due to its proximity to the Great Salt Lake.

Tonight he felt a whiteout coming on. The kind where livestock froze and all transportation came to a standstill. By tomorrow morning the conditions would be perfect for the engineering team to do an experimental, driverless winter test run of the new prototype magnetic levitation train he’d designed.

As soon as he’d given one more inspection to this last section of forged track for any unforeseen problems, he could call it a night.

Blizzard conditions made it impossible to rely on his eyes without help. He pulled the heavy-duty flashlight from the back of his truck where he’d covered his equipment with a tarp.

The wind drove the snow so hard, his footsteps disappeared with every step he took alongside the platformed structure housing the twelve miles of seamless track.

Twenty minutes later he was satisfied that the workmanship looked slick-as-a-whistle, as his father would say. He came to the last hundred feet, carefully shining his light down inside to make certain he’d covered every square inch.

While he’d been out here, the wind, strengthened in force, pelted him with icy shards. At times its moaning sounds rose in pitch, imitating an animal’s cry.

Zane began to think a cougar foraging for food must have come down from the nearby mountains and had picked up his scent.

He made a last scan with the light, then froze.

Something about the size of a sack of flour was lying in the middle of the track wrapped in a snow-covered cloth. It was hard to make out details with white stuff swirling all around him.

He heard another cry, more distinct this time. What the devil?

In the next second he vaulted inside to see what it was. As he drew closer, he could have sworn the material moved.

A grimace marred his features. Had some deranged lunatic decided to dispose of a cat in this fashion?

Hunkering down, he carefully removed one edge of the thin cotton material. After pointing the light on it, he let out a gasp of sheer disbelief.

A newborn baby without a stitch of clothing on!

It made another infant cry.

Good Lord. The little boy was on the verge of freezing to death!

Tears of rage filled Zane’s eyes. If he hadn’t decided to inspect this end portion of track one more time…

Setting down the light, he whipped off his jacket. Carefully he placed the baby against the sheepskin lining and wrapped it up like a cocoon. All the while he prayed the warmth from his own body would ward of hypothermia.

Without a second to lose, he climbed back out with his precious bundle and started running.

The tears continued to run down his cheeks. They froze to his skin but he wasn’t cognizant of anything except the tiny life that would have died from exposure, if not from…

He couldn’t think about the other horrific scenarios flooding his mind. He refused!

The truck was two miles away, but it felt like a hundred. The baby could die before he got it to a hospital.

Suppressed memories of Zane’s twin brother drowning in San Francisco Bay years ago came back with gut-wrenching clarity.

Please God. Let this baby live.

Julie Becker, the other registered nurse on duty in the emergency room at the small Oquirrh Mountains Medical Center, came into the cubicle where Meg Richins was setting up a morphine drip on a migraine sufferer.

“It’s pretty quiet, Meg,” she whispered. “I thought I’d run across the street for some fresh cappuccino. The coffee around here is ghastly. Do you want anything?”

“I don’t think so, but thanks anyway,” Meg whispered back. “Let’s just be grateful we’re on the night shift. After the storm is over in the morning, there will be a steady stream of casualties.”

“Don’t I know it, and we’ll both be in our apartments sound asleep! But alone in our beds,” she added jokingly.

Meg smiled, but it really wasn’t funny.

“See you in a few minutes.”

When she left, Meg looked down at her patient. “How’s the nausea, Mrs. Pope?”

“It’s not too bad yet.”

“Let me know if it gets worse and I’ll tell Dr. Tingey. We can give you something for it.”

“I’m allergic to a lot of things.”

“I can see that on your chart. Don’t worry. I hate a bad reaction as much as anyone. I promise we’ll do everything in our power to make sure you don’t suffer any additional discomfort.”

A few years ago, after the operation to remove Meg’s ovaries, she’d become deathly ill on her first injection of a normal painkiller for that kind of surgery. Since then she’d learned great respect for her patients’ fears in that department.

After drawing the curtain for privacy, she walked over to the desk where their intense new resident, Dr. Parker, was writing a prescription for an outgoing patient who’d come in with a broken arm.

She waited until he was finished.

“Yes, Meg?”

“Do you know where Dr. Tingey is?” Meg knew it was wrong of her, but there were some cases where she would rather deal with the seasoned, mellow head of the ER.

“Over in X-ray for the moment. What do you need?”

“This is a list of drugs Mrs. Pope is allergic to. She’s nauseated and I’m afraid it’s going to get worse. I thought we should be prepared.”

He studied it for a minute. “I’ll go in and talk to her.”

Somehow Meg knew he would say that. One of the new breed of doctors, he always questioned everything the patients said, as if their input wasn’t credible. She wondered if he treated his wife the same way, then chastised herself for being unprofessional.

Dr. Tingey was so different, Meg was spoiled. She not only had the greatest respect for his medical expertise, she loved him for his wonderful bedside manner with the patients who adored him.

On more than one occasion she’d heard him say he’d seen everything in his forty years of practice. In that amount of time he’d learned to listen, and truly cared about people. Those qualities alone made him the greatest doctor around as far as she was concerned. Dr. Parker would do well to emulate him.

A slight draft in the room brought Meg’s head in the direction of the double doors leading to the entrance of the ER. She assumed it was Julie returning from the convenience store.

Instead her gaze fell on a tall, lean male in his mid-thirties rushing toward her in a snow-covered cowboy hat, jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, but no winter coat. He was clutching something wrapped in his arms.

“Quick! Help me! The baby was left out in the blizzard to die!” The man sounded absolutely frantic.

The word “baby” galvanized her into action. “Come with me.” She hurried down to a room marked Infant ICU. “Right in here. Lay the baby on this counter.”

While he did her bidding, she switched on the warmer of the specially equipped cribs to treat hypothermia, then undid the rust-colored jacket covering the baby. A tiny head with a dusting of dark hair appeared.

It was a newborn boy! Meg’s professional eye looked him over. The umbilical cord still needed trimming.

His naked, shivering body had been wrapped in a thin, blood-stained cotton receiving blanket. He had an unhealthy pallor. She felt for a pulse. It was alarmingly weak, as were its infant cries. When she pressed on the skin of his upper arm, she noted decreased capillary refill.

Who could have done such a thing to a human being, her heart cried in fury.

Swallowing her sobs she whispered, “You precious little darling. Let’s get you warmed up.”

With the utmost care she lifted him from the counter and placed him unclothed on his back inside the crib. The quiver of his baby chin exaggerated his total helplessness, wringing another inner convulsion from Meg.

“I’ll get the doctor,” she murmured to the rugged stranger who hovered anxiously nearby. With one covert glance she read pain in his expression as he stared at the miniscule lump of humanity struggling for life.

To her relief, Dr. Tingey had returned from X-ray. As soon as she told him the situation, he followed her to the room where she’d put the baby.

After nodding to the man standing next to the crib, he proceeded to examine the infant.

“This little tyke isn’t more than a couple of hours old. Where did you find him?”

“On the train track,” came the thick-toned response. Meg moaned at the same time Dr. Tingey grimaced. “I was doing a last-minute inspection of the end section when I heard a cry.

“The second I realized it was a baby, I brought it here as fast as I could. Is it going to live?” His deep voice sounded haunted.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to make certain it does,” he assured him in a calm tone.

Two years of working in the ER had taught Meg how to read the expression on Dr. Tingey’s face. When one eyebrow arched higher than the other, it meant the victim’s medical condition was precarious, but no one else knew that.

“Set up an IV to start the antibiotics and fluid bolus. Then call the lab. I want a full workup, blood cultures, et cetera. Tell Julie to phone the sheriff’s office. We have a Baby Doe.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

Meg hurried to do his bidding. It was just as she’d feared. The infant had suffered blood loss during birth. No telling where the delivery had taken place. Considering the raging storm outside, she didn’t think she could bear to hear the tragic details, even if they were ever to come to light.

Within fifteen minutes everything possible was being done to stabilize the baby. Meg stood by to monitor the speed of the drip and get more IV bags ready if needed. Dr. Tingey finished trimming and cleaning the cord to make it sterile.

He’d told the stranger he could wait out in the small reception area if he wanted. But the other man insisted he would remain in the room.

It touched Meg’s heart that he would show this kind of concern for an abandoned baby. Unfortunately she’d seen too many cases where the natural parent seemed to have no nurturing instincts whatsoever.

Soon she heard voices in the hall and then a police officer came into the room. He nodded to everyone before his gaze went to the stranger.

“I’m Officer Brown assigned to this case. You’re the man who found the baby?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the name, Sir?”

“Zane Broderick.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-four.”

“Do you live around here?”

“Yes—1017 Parkway.”

“Phone?”

“My number is 734-9812.”

“What’s your occupation?”

“I’m a mechanical engineer.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“My crew and I are performing a test on a new maglev train in the morning.”

Meg blinked. She’d heard about the exciting project when one of the engineers who’d been involved came in to be treated for a gash on his leg a few months earlier. She’d ridden on a bullet train similar to the type they were building when she’d gone to Japan on a trip with some fellow nurses after graduation.

“I was checking the last section of track for any last-minute problems when I saw a bundle in the middle of it, covered in snow. I thought it was a cat crying until I opened it and found the baby inside, barely alive. It was wrapped in a cloth.” He pointed to the cotton blanket still lying inside the jacket.

The officer peered at the bloodstains. “Is this track the one on the west side of town where a large building has been erected at one end?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“I wrapped the baby in my coat and ran for my truck. It was parked two miles up the track. Then I drove straight here.”

“Do you know what time it was when you found the baby?”

“Forty-five minutes ago.”

“Is that your white Chevy V8 out there in the emergency parking?”

“Yes.”

“Give me the names and addresses of a couple of your crew, please.”

“Rod Stigler and Martin Driscoll. They live at the Doxey apartments on Conover Street. Number 10 and 14.”

“Okay. Thanks for your cooperation. I’m going to have to ask you to remain here until another officer from the station comes over to deal with the evidence and get a blood sample from you.”

The policeman turned to Dr. Tingey, but his gaze included Meg. “Don’t touch the blanket or the coat. In the meantime, if you should learn anything that could help us trace the birthmother or father, call the station. I’ll be in touch.”

“Is it routine to be given the third degree?” Mr. Broderick demanded quietly after the officer had left the room. Meg could feel his anger.

“I’m afraid even the good Samaritan is suspect until proven otherwise. As far as the police are concerned this could be a case of attempted murder,” Dr. Tingey murmured.

“The problem is, there have been too many instances in the past where the person who found an abandoned newborn turned out to be connected to it in some way. But normally it’s a teenage couple who can’t deal with the fact that they’ve become parents. They’ll do anything to get rid of it.”

Meg shuddered.

“Be patient. The truth will come out soon enough. Looking on the positive side, if this little guy continues to hold his own, there will come a day when he’ll want to thank you for saving his life.

“I’d like to thank you now for your quick action. The body warmth from your coat obviously helped preserve him.” Dr. Tingey shook the other man’s hand.

“Meg?” he called over his shoulder. “Keep the IV going. I’ve got to check on a head injury patient, then I’ll be back.” He left the room.

Under the circumstances, Meg couldn’t help but admire the kind way Dr. Tingey had tried to put the stranger at ease. He knew how unsettling it must be for Mr. Broderick whose good deed had fallen under suspicion.

“You look like you could use a cup of coffee. Can I get you some?”

His gaze was still riveted to the baby. He seemed deep in thought. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d appreciate it.”

“Not at all. Why don’t you bring that stool in the corner over to the crib and sit down while you watch the baby. I’ll be back in a moment.”

When she returned a few minutes later, she discovered he’d followed her suggestion. In the process he’d removed the well-worn cowboy hat which had been set on the counter next to his coat. Beneath the brightness of the overhead light, his medium-cropped dark-blond hair gleamed with health.

It surprised her to realize they’d both been living in town and she’d never seen him before. Lines of character defining a face burnished by the sun added to his masculine appeal. The combination of his six-foot-three height and well-honed physique made him a rarity among the male of the species. In Tooele, she hadn’t known such a man existed…

“Here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you.” He took it from her hands. In that brief moment when he’d looked up, she’d glimpsed a flash of blue. The man was even more attractive than she’d first realized.

“Hi, Meg.” The lab technician breezed in with her cart.

“How are you, Angela?” The mother of three was always cheerful.

“Can’t complain. Word has spread around the clinic that we have a Baby Doe.” She put on sterile gloves, then placed her hands inside the holes of the crib to get started.

“Oh—isn’t he sweet!” As she began drawing blood from the baby’s heels she said, “With those cheeks, he looks like a chipmunk.”

Meg smiled. “My words exactly. He’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.”

But she noticed that Zane Broderick continued to wear a pained expression throughout the procedure. For someone who’d never laid eyes on the baby until he’d found him on the track, the man seemed exceptionally attached to the child.

Maybe it was because the miracle of birth had happened only hours before its discovery and the crisis had managed to tug at his parental instincts. In some men those feelings were very strong. If that was the case, Meg could well understand his reaction.

Since she’d discovered the tiny infant wrapped inside the man’s coat, the powerful drive to mother the child she would never be able to conceive had been given a real workout.

By the time the technician had finished her job, it was time for Meg to start another IV. Mr. Broderick leaned closer to the crib.

“Do you think the baby looks any better yet?”

I wish I could tell you yes, but I can’t. “He’s holding his own, which means he’s a fighter.”

“In other words, there’s a good chance he might not make it.”

His tormented tone alarmed her. “Give him a little more time. Babies are more resilient than you might imagine.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He downed the rest of his coffee.

She checked the thermostat on the warmer to be sure it was maintaining a constant temperature, then reached for his empty cup. “I’ll dispose of that.” On her way over to the waste bin, two policemen entered the room.

“Mr. Broderick? If you’ll come with me.”

The stranger’s jaw hardened. Meg shared in his frustration as he got up from the stool and was forced to follow one of the officers out the door. The other officer placed the cotton blanket and sheepskin parka in bags for the forensics lab to examine.

Putting on sterile gloves, Meg walked back to the crib. Her heart ached for this baby who’d been deprived of his mother and desperately needed to be held. She reached inside the holes and grasped his tiny hands, trying to infuse him with all the love she would have poured out on her own baby. The one she would never have…

“You’re the sweetest boy I’ve ever seen. So strong and brave. The man who saved you thinks you are, too. He’ll be back. You’re not alone in the world, little precious.”

“Am I allowed to make a phone call now?” Zane demanded in suppressed anger, rolling down his shirt-sleeve over the gauze the technician had taped to his inner elbow.

The officer nodded. “Of course. Thanks for cooperating. We’ll get your coat back to you within twenty-four hours.”

After the policeman and technician had left the emergency room cubicle, Zane pulled out his cell phone. First he called Martin. Following the brief explanation, he asked his assistant to inform the rest of the crew that the test run for tomorrow needed to be postponed for a couple of days. He’d get back to him later.

As soon as they’d said goodbye, he rang Dominic Giraud at his apartment in Laramie, Wyoming. If he didn’t answer, then Zane would phone Alik Jarman who lived nearby. Both men were his best friends. Together the three of them were making the maglev project a reality.

This test was the critical one. He knew they’d be upset when they heard it had to be put off for another day or two, but circumst—

“Hello?”

“Hannah?” Dom’s wife was a sweetheart.

“Zane! Dominic and Alik were just talking about you.”

“Are they still there?”

“Yes.”

“Put them both on, will you? I’ve got something important to tell them.”

“Of course. Just a minute.”

He could hear happy sounds in the background. In his mind’s eye he pictured the small apartment bulging at the seams with both couples and their children assembled in the front room. At the odd time like this, Zane experienced a disquieting emptiness he didn’t like to acknowledge, not when his bachelor status had served him perfectly well all these years.

“Mon vieux—” His French friend often used the endearment in addressing him and Alik. Right now Zane felt like he was an old man. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

“We’ve been watching the weather channel,” Alik broke in on the other line. “You’re being blasted with snow right now. Exactly what we wanted for the test run in the morning!”

Zane gripped the phone a little tighter. “I’m afraid the test has to be postponed. That’s why I’m calling.”

After a slight pause, “What happened?” The disappointment in Dom’s voice was tangible.

“It has nothing to do with the train’s mechanics.”

“Then there’s something wrong with you,” Alik surmised, his tone full of concern.

He sucked in his breath. “You’re not going to believe this, but the track has been taped off as a crime scene.”

“What?” both men interjected at the same time.

“That’s right. At the moment I’m the chief suspect in an attempted murder case. As we speak, I’m in the ER in Tooele where I’ve just been fingerprinted by the police. They took a blood sample. I’ve been warned not to leave town until further notice. Oh yes, they’ll give me back my parka after the crime lab has examined it.”

“It sounds like you need an attorney. Alik and I will phone New York as soon as we hang up.”

Thank God for choice friends.

“I appreciate the backing, you two. If it comes to that, I’ll let you know. But this is an entirely different situation than you’re imagining. Just hear me out.”

For the next little while Zane told them everything that had happened. “You should have seen the little guy with only a thin cotton blanket for protection in that blizzard. An animal could have come along. If we’d done that test tomorrow—” Zane was so choked up, he couldn’t talk.

“Good Lord,” Alik muttered.

“How old did you say he was?”

“An hour maybe.”

“Mon Dieu.”

“Everything possible is being done for him here, but no one’s guaranteeing anything.” Not even the attractive nurse who’d brought him coffee had tried to paint a rosy picture. That pretty well said it all.