Two guards raced from the fence line, closing in on the group of men dismounting.
Inside, the other women at the party gathered up their coats, too, without a break in their buzz of chatter, but Glenna led the pack, being the closest to the exit. She tugged on her coat and pulled open the door. A blast of crisp air washed over her.
Voices carried on the breeze.
“Ma’am.” Conrad held up two hands. “I’ve never touched you.”
What the hell? Glenna’s eyes shifted back to the baby, her heart aching as it always did when she saw a child, given the loss of so many pregnancies. She’d never even made it to the second trimester. Never felt life move inside her.
The stranger jostled the baby on her hip and fished an envelope from her jacket pocket. “I’m not little Fleur’s mother. I work for Mr. Steele—the senior Mr. Steele. Someone—I don’t know how—left the baby in the barn and I found her while I was refilling the food and water troughs for your return. Security is still trying to figure out how the baby was brought in. But there was a note on top of her…”
Jack took the envelope from her hand, glanced at the outside. Blinking fast, he looked sharply at Broderick, then Glenna, giving only a moment’s heart-stopping warning before he announced, “It’s addressed to Broderick…and Glenna.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Glenna’s stomach clenched as Jack read the outside of the envelope…addressed to her and Broderick?
Gasps rippled through the family crowded around her, sending puffs into the cold air. She glanced at Broderick, but found no answers on his handsome face. He looked as puzzled as she felt. He rubbed his temple, just under the brim of his Stetson.
Glenna pulled her gaze away from his strong, beard-stubbled jaw. What did this child have to do with her? With both of them? Even as she thought the question, she couldn’t help but reach for the little bundle in a pink parka and a blanket. The sweet weight settling into her arms was a precious, squirming joy. Her heart swelled. She stroked a knuckle along the cherub’s cheek. Wide blue eyes blinked up at her, the tiny mouth sucking on a pacifier.
She felt Broderick step up behind her, his boots crunching through the snow. She glanced back to see him look over her shoulder at the baby, then over at Jack, who was still staring at the letter.
Glenna hugged the child closer, the pink blanket trailing from her arms. “What does the note say?”
The paper crackled as Jack handed it back to the secretary who handled it carefully, as if preserving evidence, and then withdrew a sheet of paper. A swirly scrawl filled the pristine white surface. “Um, sir…” The woman from the barn passed the paper to Jack Steele. “You may want to read this. I’m not comfortable with, um, well…”
A hint of snow started whispering from the sky as Jack took the paper and then pulled a second typed document from the envelope, scanning both while tipping them for Jeannie to see. “The note says she isn’t sure who the baby’s father is,” he reported. “She sent a birth certificate for a three-month-old baby named Fleur Wilson. It lists the mother’s name as Deborah Wilson…”
Jack looked over his glasses at his oldest son and Broderick’s eyebrows shot up. Tellingly so. Glenna swallowed hard. The name was unfamiliar to her, though.
Jack glanced down, swiped a few snowflakes from his glasses and continued. “She goes on to write there’s no use in looking for her. She’s already in Canada and will contact us when she’s ready. But for now, she wants her child to be with family.” He cleared his throat. “Her message says she isn’t sure if the father is Broderick or…”
Jeannie rested a hand on his shoulder, took the papers and walked over to her daughter, worry was stamped across the older woman’s face. “Glenna, the note says the father could also be Gage. I’m sorry to even have to say that out loud.”
Glenna bit back a gasp. Her dead husband could be the father of this child?
Even with the gentle voice of her mother delivering the words, Glenna felt the blow of each syllable in her gut. She gasped in a gulp of the crisp air, swaying and forcing to herself to hold on to the baby more securely. She felt the weight of so many eyes on her, this strange mix of family and long-time enemies as she processed news that threatened to bring her to her knees.
Silence reigned, as if the group held their collective breath. Behind her, she heard the snort and stamp of one of the horses.
In some distant part of her consciousness, she realized that Broderick had placed a steadying hand on her waist. Surely he had to be staggering at this revelation, too. She looked into the baby’s face, searching the features for a magic clue to the parentage. She eased back the baby’s hood and knit cap to find light brown hair. No real clue there. She shielded the tiny face with her hand to keep the snowflakes from landing.