Somewhere Between Luck and Trust by Emilie Richards Page B

baby’s face and cradled her tiny head in the crook of her left arm. “Lottie here seems to like it, too. She’s always quieter, but maybe it’s the trip. All those twists and turns probably put her in a trance. And Velvet—that’s the sniffer down there—loves to find out what critters passed this way in the night.”
    Cristy peeked at the baby. She had a sweet little pointy chin and surprisingly long eyelashes, like feathers against her cheek. Her hair was the palest brown, not quite blond like her mother’s, and there wasn’t much of it, just enough to be seen.
    “She’s lovely,” Cristy said.
    “Especially when she’s asleep, although now that she’s beginning to smile, I think she could win a beauty contest.”
    “When do they start to smile?”
    “Little smiles really early, but at about three to four months they last longer, and she smiles when she’s responding to something she likes.”
    “She’s three months?”
    “Thirteen weeks.”
    The baby opened her eyes and blinked a few times, as if she was trying to focus. Then she closed them again, as if all that blinking wasn’t worth the effort.
    “She’ll wake up for sure in a little while,” Harmony said. “And she’ll be hungry. She’s always hungry.”
    “I’ve never spent much time around babies.”
    Harmony nodded. “I never had, either. I did a little babysitting and didn’t like it. It’s different when it’s your own. Marilla—she and her husband, Brad, own the farm where I live—she says she didn’t like children at all, not one bit, until she had her first. Then she fell madly in love. She has two adorable little boys, and I’m with them so much I’ve fallen in love with them, too.”
    Cristy wondered if this was just the way things happened. Would she feel that way after she spent time with Michael?
    “It sneaks up on you,” Harmony said, as if she were reading Cristy’s mind. “But it must have been hard for you to have your son taken away after he was born.”
    Cristy wasn’t surprised Harmony knew her circumstances. “Sure,” she said, with little conviction in her voice. “Only I knew from the start I wouldn’t be able to keep him with me.”
    “That seems wrong. You should have been allowed to bond with him.”
    “And then have him taken away?”
    Harmony met her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. And maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, only I wanted you to know maybe I understand a little of what you had to go through.”
    As nice as Harmony seemed, Cristy doubted that.
    “I need a glass of water and a bathroom break. Would you like to hold Lottie while I’m gone?”
    Cristy didn’t want to, but she knew Harmony was offering her a gift. Her own son wasn’t there to hold, but she could hold Harmony’s daughter, a substitute to practice on. And didn’t offering the baby show that Harmony trusted her, ex-con and all?
    She nearly said no, but she knew staying here might be dependent on the goodwill of all the trustees, including Harmony. She held out her arms.
    Harmony carefully transferred the baby. “She should sleep right through this.”
    Cristy was surprised at how light the baby felt, and how sweet the little bundle smelled. She adjusted the blankets so that Lottie’s face was clear of them.
    “Nothing feels quite like a sleeping baby,” Harmony said. “I’ll be right back.”
    Cristy hoped so. Because sitting here, holding Harmony’s baby daughter, was the last place on earth she wanted to be. Nearly the last. Because the real last place would be at her cousin’s house holding Michael.
    * * *
    The day didn’t drag. Cristy had to admit that much. The others returned from their walk, and everyone worked on lunch together, which was clearly intended to be the big meal of the day. They had leftover spaghetti and salad, a vegetarian minestrone that Harmony had brought along, homemade bread and jam, courtesy of Harmony’s employer Marilla Reynolds, and brownies that Edna and Samantha