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What’s wrong with naming her after yourself? Trish is a pretty name.”
    “Short for Patricia,” she explained derisively.“It’s a fine name, I suppose, but too ordinary. I want something that will make her stand out.”
    “Take it from someone whose name was a constant source of teasing, ordinary has its merits.”
    He paused for a minute, suddenly struck by a memory of the one woman in his life who’d been steadfast and gentle, his grandmother Laura. She’d died when he was only ten, but he’d never forgotten the warmth she had brought into his lonely life on her infrequent visits. She’d smelled like lily of the valley and she’d always had little bags of candy tucked inside her purse. She was the one person on his mother’s side of the family who’d ever bothered to stay in touch.
    “There is one name that comes to mind,” he said, still hesitant to become involved in this at all. His gut told him even such a tenuous tie to this woman and her baby was dangerous.
    “Tell me,” she commanded eagerly.
    “Laura. It’s a little old-fashioned, I suppose. It was my grandmother’s name.”
    “And she meant a lot to you?” she asked, searching his face.
    “A long time ago, yes, she did.”
    Trish’s expression brightened then. “Laura,” she said softly. “I like it.”
    Hardy liked the way it sounded when she said it. He liked the way her voice rose and fell in gentle waves. Even when she’d been snapping his head off during the baby’s birth, there had been a hint of sunshine lurking in that voice.
    He liked everything about this woman a little toomuch. She and her baby were the type who could sneak into a man’s heart—even his—before he knew what hit him. Just thinking that was enough to have him heading for the exit from the nursery.
    “You’re leaving?” Trish called after him, clearly surprised by the abrupt departure.
    “Work to do,” he said tersely, not turning around. “I meant to go a while back.”
    “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
    “Since you’re not from around these parts, I doubt it.”
    He hesitated, then turned and took one last look at the two of them, sitting in that rocker with the sunlight streaming in and spilling over them. He had a feeling that image would linger with him long after he wanted to banish it.
    “I’m glad everything turned out okay,” he said. “You all have a good life wherever you go.”
    Not until he was out in the hallway with the door firmly closed behind him did he begin to feel safe again.

Chapter Four
    T rish had no idea what to make of Hardy Jones. He wasn’t like any other man she’d ever known. He was brusque and tough one second, a little shy the next. As gorgeous and enigmatic as he was, she could imagine women falling at his feet, wanting to unravel the mystery of him. She had no intention of being one of them.
    He’d done her a huge favor. She’d thanked him. There was no reason for their paths to cross again. In fact, he’d made it plain that he’d prefer that they didn’t. Given some of the gossip she’d heard in the hallways about his active social life, she’d concluded he was a little too much like Jack. She certainly didn’t need another man like that in her life.
    After Hardy had gone, her doctor magically appeared in the nursery as if she’d been waiting just outside the door.
    “So, what did you think of Hardy?” she asked.
    It seemed to Trish that she posed the question a little too casually. Her watchful gaze suggested she was very interested in the answer. Alarm bells went off. Between her father and her big brothers, Trish had spent her entire life with overactive meddlers. She knew one when she saw one. She phrased her reply very carefully.
    “He’s very sweet, but he seemed nervous. He must be awfully shy around women, or is it just me?” she said, testing what she’d overheard about Hardy’s womanizing.
    The doctor’s mouth gaped predictably. “Hardy, shy? That has to be a first. If you asked