Chapter Two

      Violet walked up to the front door of the cute, brick Craftsman-style bungalow with its perfectly landscaped and manicured lawn. The West home backed up to her tiny rental house. Literally. Nothing but a low row of hedges separated their backyards.

      The huge front porch with a swing and window boxes cascading with petunias invited her to come sit a while. Exactly the feeling she’d dreamed about having in a small town. If only she could find time to make some friends.

      Holding three bags of newborn necessities in her left hand, she rapped on the door with the other. Time to show this clueless man how to take care of his baby cousin.

      Jake opened the door, his broad shoulders and husky physique filling the space, making her stomach flutter.

       No, no fluttering allowed.

      “Hey, come on in,” he said as he reached for the bags with strong arms. “Let me take those.”

      He appeared to be six-one or six-two, maybe two hundred twenty-five pounds. A large man, built of solid muscle without a pinch of fat.

      “Thanks, but, uh...” Focus. “There’s more in the car. I left it open for you.”

      “Got it. You can head on back to the kitchen.”

      She stepped inside and passed through a well-used living room fitted with older, broken-in furniture. Abigail slept soundly in her carrier on the worn tweed couch. Violet kept going until she found the kitchen and then began to unload the bags.

      The outdated furnishings, which must have belonged to Edith and Paul West, lent a homey feel, something her parents’ home had lacked because her mother hired a decorator to redo the house every few years.

      A small, drop-leaf breakfast table by the window, however, looked new. On it sat an opened newspaper beside a laptop computer. Discarded after breakfast or when his cousin showed up needing a babysitter?

      Other than the newspaper, everything was in its place, neat as a pin, and wasn’t at all what she would picture for a busy bachelor. Surprisingly, the rooms felt welcoming.

      For some reason, the tidy, cozy home didn’t fit with Jake’s overgrown, wavy brown hair, closely trimmed beard and rugged, mountain-man looks.

      Shaking her head, she laughed. What had she expected? A tent and camping stove?

      “Disposable diapers,” he declared as he entered the room and plopped the bags on the counter. “Lots of diapers. Enough to single-handedly overload the county landfill.”

      “Abigail will use all of those in about a week.”

      “No kidding?” He tucked all but one of the packs in the pantry. “Guess I need to practice changing her, but I hate to wake her.”

      “We can work on the feeding first.”

      She pointed to a case of already-prepared formula. “I figured you’d rather splurge on ready-to-feed formula instead of having to mix the powder.”

      “Good call.”

      She held up a carton and gave instructions on how to heat it.

      He pulled bottles out of the diaper bag. “These are the ones Remy sent.”

      Examining their condition, Violet wrinkled her nose. One was coated with the curdling remnants of formula. The nipples looked worn. Too worn, as if Remy had gotten them as hand-me-downs. “You know, I think since you don’t know where these have been, we’ll boil them first. And we can throw some of them away. I bought a few new ones.”

      His expression hardened. “My cousin may not have the best of everything, but I don’t think she would expose her baby to unsanitary conditions.”

      Spoken as if he thought Violet was used to having the best of everything. The fact he must think her haughty nipped at her conscience. How many times had she been mortified by her mother’s snobbish actions? She’d vowed never to have that same attitude.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. But nipples do wear out and tear, which could choke the baby. We have to be careful.”

      With tense shoulders easing, he let out a breath. “Okay.”

      “We also need to boil the new bottles and nipples before the first use. Do you have a large soup pot we can use?”

      He opened cabinet after cabinet, searching. The man was obviously a bachelor because the shelves were mostly empty.

      “Found this.” He pulled out a pan that was big enough to heat a can of soup.

      “You don’t cook, huh?”

      “I know how, but I’m not here much. I make sandwiches for lunch and give Edna a lot of business at the diner.”

      “I’m glad I brought you a case of sample bottles to get you through until you can buy a larger pan.” She couldn’t help but wonder at how much sense his cousin, Remy, had to leave a baby here.

      Pulling out an informational brochure she’d brought with her, she showed him how to clean bottles with the brush she’d purchased and how to use the dishwasher for future washings. He seemed to be taking in all the information and even jotted notes.

      Satisfied, she pulled out the baby monitor she’d picked up at the hardware store. “Now, you’ll need this so you’ll hear Abigail when she cries during the night.”

      The wary look on his face was comical. He had no idea how his life was about to change.

      “I guess she needs a room. And a crib.”

      Violet’s stomach sank. “You mean you don’t have a place for her to sleep?”

      “Well, there are two extra bedrooms,” he sputtered, looking offended. “I had no notice about Remy dropping off the baby.”

      She wouldn’t ask more questions and risk him getting his back up. “Don’t put her in your bed. Just remove the comforter, pillows and blankets and put her on the guest bed for tonight. Tomorrow, you can buy a crib. Since it’s short-term, a portable one will be fine.”

      At his look of further confusion, she let out a sigh. “Can I use your computer? I’ll show you the items you’ll probably need to buy.”

      He pointed her toward the table. “Good idea. Will you listen for Abigail while I go change