Chapter One
Micah
“Five minutes. We’ll just be in here five minutes,” I promise the little girl in my arms. I never expected to wake up with a baby girl on my doorstep. But that’s what happened two days ago. The only clue was a note left with her. She’s yours. Take good care of her, Micah.
Except she’s not mine. That isn’t denial talking. It’s cold, hard science. Despite my nearly thirty years of age, I’ve never been with anyone. I’ve poured everything into making the Kringle Christmas Tree Ranch more profitable. No one has ever caught my eye. Well, not until the little thing who works here at Emma May’s grocery store did a few weeks ago. But I’m too old and too gruff for a sweet woman like Chloe.
Abby blinks up at me. Actually, I think she’s squinting. I’m not sure how well babies can see. I add it to the list of things I’ll be searching on my phone later. As it was, it took me all of yesterday to choose a name. There wasn’t anything to identify her in the car seat or diaper bag. Just two bottles of formula and that damn note.
A smarter man would have called the sheriff. But Sheriff Luke is obligated to tell child protective services. Next thing you know she’s being bounced around from home to home.
I was just like her once. I was a foster kid who kept getting thrown away for one reason or another. No matter how good I tried to be or how hard I worked, I couldn’t make anyone want me. I won’t let that happen to her. I won’t let it be her story.
I called in Cash, the town doctor, to examine her as soon as I found her. He estimates she’s only about two weeks old. He didn’t ask me too many questions. I’m considered an upstanding member of the community. Which means as long as there are no blood tests and everyone takes my word for it, this will be fine.
“So, the thing is, grocery stores are loud sometimes, and I can’t really help that,” I tell her. It’s my job to introduce her to the world. That’s what the parenting podcast I’ve been listening to in between her naps tells me.
If I’d had any other option, I would have left her at the house. But my brothers are struggling to keep the ranch running in my absence, and the foster parents I met when I had just turned eighteen are sick with a cold. Even if they weren’t, they’re busy with lives of their own. They don’t need to be raising a kid again, which means I need someone to help me out.
There’s a thread on the Courage County social board where townsfolk can ask Santa for something. People can post anonymously or as themselves. I posted asking for a nanny for Christmas. Figured it was probably better than asking for a date with the dark-haired cashier who features in my dreams.
Abby grunts and starts rooting around my chest. I manage to juggle a bottle of formula out of the truck and get it into her mouth before she can start screaming her head off.
She’s beautiful and amazing and also the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. She eats constantly, about every two hours. Cash said it was normal and even dropped off some formula to get me through these first two days with her. It’s only been forty-eight hours, and I don’t know how new parents do this. She’s so tiny and she needs constant care. My every thought is now about her and whether she’s happy.
“See? That’s better now, isn’t it?” I croon as I wander into Emma May’s grocery store like this is normal. Like I’m always around town with a baby tucked in my arms. I chose the early morning hours to minimize the amount of people she would be exposed to. I won’t hide her. Not ever. I’m damn proud of this little girl. But the world has to be a scary place when you’re that small and surrounded by strangers.
Warm air greets us inside the store, a welcome relief from the cold winter. It’s not long now until Christmas. I wonder what babies want for the holidays. I wonder if she’s even noticed the tree in my living room. Can she identify objects yet?
I glance around the brightly lit, clean store. I scan the register area and tell myself that I’m not disappointed when it’s empty. I wasn’t looking for a certain brunette with the shy smile and sweet curves. Nope, wasn’t looking for Chloe at all.
Since the store is mostly empty, I thread my way back to the baby care section while keeping one eye on the bottle. Cash had rules about stopping to burp her through the feedings. Said something about air getting trapped in her little tummy. Fuck, there’s a lot to remember with a baby.
Still, I figured out how to run the ranch. It was making some money but not a lot when I took over as manager at barely eighteen. I’m pretty sure the only reason that Mr. Kringle gave me the job was because I’d tried to do everything else at the farm. I hadn’t been very good at any of it. He must have finally figured that at least my brain might be useful.
I’ve done him proud in the time since. I consistently double the ranch’s profits and ever since then, he leaves me alone to do whatever I want. In fact, he won’t make a decision about the ranch without consulting me.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even hear Emma May approach as I glance at the rows of baby formula. Each one promises to be gentle on her tummy while being fortified with vitamins needed for her growth.
“And who is this little one?” Emma May’s silver hair is in its usual long braid down her back, and she peers over her bifocals. She’s a tiny little thing that barely comes up to my chest, so I crouch lower, letting her see my Abby.
“Such a pretty girl,” she admires and accepts my daughter when I pass the little bundle to her. She’s had five children of her own and fostered countless others. That’s the thing about a place like Courage County. Your past doesn’t matter. Everyone is welcome here. “You didn’t tell me you have a daughter.”
I haven’t introduced her to anyone but family yet. Even then, my parents only got to see her on video call since they’ve been sick. “I didn’t know until just recently.”
Truth is, I’m a little worried about Abby’s mama. You don’t leave a baby on a doorstep because you think you’ve got a lot of options. Given how she’s only around two weeks old, her mom could be in need of medical care too. I wish I had some clue as to her identity, some way to reach out and let her know that I can help. That I’ll keep Abby safe and warm and make sure she grows up with all the love in the world.
Emma May clucks her tongue. “Well, where’s her mama?”
Sweat trickles down my back. Whatever I say in this moment will be repeated across town for years. Little Abby will most likely hear it when she’s old enough, so I settle on the best thing I know to say, “She’s not in her life at the moment. But I’m hopeful one day things will be different.”
Without missing a beat, she pops the bottle from Abby’s mouth and keeps her entertained long enough to burp her. How she did that without Abby letting out one of her screams, I’ll never know. “Let’s hope so. Christmas is a time for miracles.”
I glance over at the baby in her arms. “It sure is.”
After I’m done getting everything on Cash’s list and a few things that Emma May insisted he must have forgotten, Abby is sleeping again. All this kid does is sleep and eat. The parenting blogs tell me this is normal, and she’ll eventually become a little more alert. But it scared the shit out of me at first.
As I approach the registers, I notice Chloe is here now. My mouth goes dry, and my heart starts pounding. I’ve never talked with her other than to exchange pleasantries. Sure, I think she’s damn beautiful, and I’d love nothing more than to take her up against the side of my truck with her fingernails digging into my arms and her sweet voice screaming my name. But I’m too old for her. I won’t be the creepy guy who leers at her while she works, so mainly I keep my mouth shut around her.
“Did you get stuck on babysitting duty this morning?” Chloe asks as she scans the extra-large pack of diapers. Forget selling Christmas trees. The ranch is going to sell diapers. We’ll make a fortune within a week.
“She’s mine.” It’s stupid to be so nervous about this. It’s not like the curvy woman in front of me is anyone to me. At this rate, she never will be.
The only hint that this news has affected her is the slight pause before she reaches for the next item. “I didn’t realize you were a father.”
I pretend to survey the offerings of gum and try to ignore the expression on her face. Why does she look disappointed? Nah, I’m imagining that. This is the problem with being nearly thirty and never having taken the time to date. I don’t know how to read a woman. “It’s new.”
Now she’s scanning without looking up at me, letting her dark hair fall like a curtain. My fingers itch to smooth it back so I can see her facial expression again. “What’s her name?”
“Abigail. Abigail Kringle,” I answer. Technically, I’m not a Kringle. They never adopted me the way they did my sister. I was already eighteen by the time I met them. But everyone calls me a Kringle, and with the baby and all, I figure I should embrace that. Give my little girl a last name she can be proud of.
She finally looks up then and says softly, “That’s a real pretty name.”
Yeah, I’ve read this whole thing wrong. She’s not into me at all. I’m not disappointed, not even a little bit. I take my bagged groceries, ignoring the jolt that goes down my arm when our fingertips brush. “Well, I asked Santa for a nanny this year. Maybe the big, jolly guy will do me a solid.”
I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask Santa for a date with the pretty cashier. I’d have made a fool of myself in front of the whole town.