***
“The bottles are in the fridge, and there are clean clothes in the drawer. Oh, and diapers are on the changing table in her room. I left you my number right?” Phil rattled off the list, making Marissa smile as Chase pulled his wife from the house.
“You already told her that three times honey,” he laughed. “Now come on, you deserve a night out and that’s what you’re going to get.”
Behind them, Megan’s soft cries grew louder but Marissa just smiled and waved until they had climbed into the old truck and started down the road.
“Now what are we going to do with you?” Marissa said bouncing the little girl gently and trying to calm her. “You might not like it, but your mama needs a little fun, so you’re just stuck with me tonight.”
The little girl looked up at her with violet eyes as she screwed up her little face and squalled.
Marissa shook her head, turning down the hall to the baby’s beautifully decorated room. The pale lavender walls, soft lighting, and plush toys making for a restful environment, and Marissa thought the color should be soothing, but the baby still cried.
Laying the little girl on the changing table, Marissa pulled out a clean diaper making the change quickly and efficiently. “You aren’t even wet,” Marissa commented looking into the tiny face and teary eyes. “Maybe you just like to hear your own voice,” she finished with a smile before taking the baby back into the open living space and settling into an old rocking chair.
An hour later, the baby was still fussy, and Marissa took a turn around the room. She had turned on soothing music, bathed the tiny girl, dressed her in the softest thing she could find, and even fed her one of the bottles that Phil had put aside.
“I don’t understand what you want sweetheart,” Marissa finally said pacing the room with the baby girl. Chase and Phil had been gone no more than two hours, and she didn’t want to call them and spoil their dinner, but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Walking to the phone in the kitchen, she pulled it from the wall and began punching in her sister’s number, but stopped when someone knocked on the door.
Hurrying to unlock the door and hoping that Megan’s parents had decided to come home early, Marissa pulled the door open only to look up into Trace’s blue gaze.
“Oh,” she said lamely stepping back and patting Megan on the back. “I thought you were Phil and Chase.”
“They aren’t back yet?” Trace said. “I was just dropping in to let them know the ride went well tonight.”
“Okay,” Marissa said leaning back to look at Meg as she tried to understand why the little girl was so unhappy.
“Can I help?” Trace said.
Marissa raised a brow, wondering if she looked like her sister with the expression. “Only if you can get her to stop crying,” she finally said stepping back and letting him in.
Trace tossed his hat on a chair then reached for the baby lifting her high and looking up into her face. “What’s the matter sweetheart?” he asked his warm rich voice trickling over them both like warm honey. “You just aren’t happy tonight are you?” He shifted her onto his shoulder then strode across the room to the large couch.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had to deal with such a fussy baby,” Marissa said following him. “I now understand why Phil is so exhausted.”
Trace chuckled laying the tiny bundle on the couch and grabbing a blanket from the back cushions. Carefully spreading the blanket on the couch, Trace placed a protesting Megan in the middle of it then folded the bottom corner over her feet before wrapping the other two sides around her and tucking them in tight. Once the baby was swaddled tightly in the soft blanket, Trace cradled her in his arms and began to sing.
Marissa stood in the middle of the living room mesmerized by the cowboy as he crooned to the baby in his arms. As his soft baritone trilled the Irish Lullaby, the little girl’s cries turned to soft huffs, then sleepy coos. Instead of struggling against the tight wrappings, the baby seemed to settle, before relaxing into the cowboy's secure grip.
“That’s amazing,” Marissa whispered as Trace continued to sing the old tune. His voice was rich, warm, and soothing and even Marissa felt some of the night’s tension slipping from weary shoulders.
As Trace came to the last verse of the song and the beautiful baby drifted off to sleep, the house grew quiet.
Marissa gestured at Trace to follow her down the hall urging him to settle the baby into her crib in the softly lit room.
Grinning, Trace laid the baby gently onto the mattress covered in a Noah’s Ark pattern then pulled another blanket halfway over her before tiptoeing back out the door to find Marissa breathing a sigh of relief.
“How did you do that?” she whispered looking at him as if he might be from another planet.
“I’ve had loads of practice,” he said leaning in, so she could hear his words. “Some babies aren’t too happy being in the wide-open world, so you have to shrink it down a little for them.”
Marissa shook her head walking the length of the hall and heading for the kitchen. “Coffee or Coke?” she asked opening the fridge and handing out a red can.
“Coke sounds good,” Trace said.
A minute later, they were both sitting at the table an easy silence settling between them as they sipped their drinks and enjoyed the sound of stillness.
“Thanks,” Marissa said just as Trace spoke.
“You alright?” Trace said chuckling lightly as his voice meshed with hers.
“Go ahead,” Marissa
