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lump of emotion in her throat. “I think he needs a change.”
    Dexter laughed softly as he looked down at the baby. “Could be.” He brushed a finger under the tiny chin. “Could be.”
    And then something happened that took Amanda’s breath away. Bartholomew grasped the old man’s finger tight in one small fist, and smiled.
    She grabbed Chase’s arm. “Did you see that? Bartholomew smiled! Chase, he’s never done that before. It’s the first time!”
    Chase glanced at her hand on his arm and she quickly removed it. “Guess he likes ol’ Dex,” Chase said easily.
    â€œLikes me.” Dexter played a gentle tug-of-war with the baby.
    Behind them the carved double doors opened. Amanda turned at the creak of hinges and discovered a gray-haired woman with an ample bosom standing in the doorway. “What are you folks standing out in the heat for?” she asked in a lilting voice.
    â€œFoal...no...little...baby!” Dexter said. “There! I said it! Baby!”
    â€œWhat?” The woman circled Chase, the luggage and Amanda to stand in front of Dexter. “Sakes alive! It is a baby!”
    â€œI said so.”
    Chase cleared his throat. “Belinda, this is Amanda Drake. Amanda, this is Belinda, Dexter’s wife and the person who supervises the kitchen.”
    Belinda glanced quickly behind her with a smile and a nod. “Nice to meet you,” she said before returning her attention to Bartholomew. “But who is this, Dexter?” She reached for the baby and Dexter handed him up to her.
    â€œBaby,” he said.
    â€œI can see that.” Belinda cradled Bartholomew in the crook of her arm and beamed down at him. “And a beautiful baby you are, too,” she crooned. “Look at those big eyes! And such curly hair. And a cute little button nose, and rosy cheeks! You are a charmer, you are!”
    Chase shifted his weight and hooked his thumbs through the loops of his belt. “That’s Amanda’s son.” He coughed into his hand. “Bartholomew.”
    Amanda knew in that moment that Chase didn’t like the name she’d chosen, and disappointment pricked her. Not that she should care if he liked the name or not, she told herself.
    Belinda looked up at Chase. “Why, he looks just like you, Chase,” she blurted out. Then she blushed. “Goodness, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Mrs. Grimes,” Amanda said. “Chase is technically the father.”
    Chase spun toward her. “Technically? What kind of ridiculous statement is that?”
    Heat rose in Amanda’s cheeks. A moment ago, she’d been enjoying the response of these two sweet old people to her baby, almost as if she and Chase had brought Bartholomew home to adoring grandparents. Now the illusion was shattered. “Simply that I don’t expect you to shoulder any of the responsibilities of being a father,” she said.
    Bartholomew, as if he were a barometer of the mood, began to cry.
    â€œI need to take him in and change him,” she said, holding out her arms toward Belinda.
    â€œOf course.” Belinda leaned down to drop a kiss on the baby’s forehead before she gave him up. “He’s so sweet.”
    â€œStinks some,” Dexter said.
    â€œI’ll just go inside and take care of that,” Amanda said. “Mrs. Grimes, where would be a good place for me to change him?”
    â€œCome with me. And call me Belinda.” The older woman picked up the diaper bag, circled Amanda’s waist with one arm and guided her toward the open door. Then she glanced over her shoulder. “Chase, take Amanda’s luggage out to the cottage. I think we have an old cradle in storage. Get Rosa to help you find it and clean it up.”
    Amanda couldn’t help smiling at Belinda’s tone. She didn’t speak to her boss as if she were an employee. Amanda