Child on His Doorstep Read online

  An unexpected delivery. A fresh start...

  He needed only a nanny...

  but in her he’s found so much more.

  Suddenly a father after his little brother is abandoned on his doorstep, Corbin Beck has no idea how to care for a toddler. Thankfully, former hometown party girl Samantha Alcorn is making a fresh start as a live-in nanny. As Corbin bonds with little Mikey—and sparks fly with Samantha—they begin to feel like a family. But Samantha’s secret could change everything...

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  “I think you’re doing a great job,” Samantha said. “Parenting is a challenge.”

  “I guess.” He wasn’t used to doing things poorly. He was used to working at a task until he could become an expert.

  But it seemed that nobody was an expert when it came to raising kids, not really.

  “Mikey can be a handful, just like any other little kid,” Samantha said.

  “He is, but I sure love him,” Corbin said. It was the first time he had articulated that, and he realized it was completely true. He loved him as if the boy were his own son.

  “I love him, too,” she said, almost offhandedly.

  She just continued wiping down the counters, not acting like she had said anything momentous, but her words blew Corbin away. She had an amazing ability to love. Mikey wasn’t her child, nor her blood, but she felt for him as if he were.

  If he loved Mikey despite his issues and whining and toddler misbehavior, could it be that he could love another adult who had issues, too?

  USA TODAY bestselling author Lee Tobin McClain watched Doctor Zhivago way too young and developed a lifelong passion for angsty romance. When she’s not writing, she’s probably FaceTiming with her college-aged daughter, mediating battles between her goofy goldendoodle and her rescue cat, or teaching aspiring writers in Seton Hill University’s MFA program. She is probably not cleaning her house. For more about Lee, visit her website at leetobinmcclain.com.

  Books by Lee Tobin McClain

  Love Inspired

  Rescue Haven

  The Secret Christmas Child

  Child on His Doorstep

  Redemption Ranch

  The Soldier’s Redemption

  The Twins’ Family Christmas

  The Nanny’s Secret Baby

  Rescue River

  Engaged to the Single Mom

  His Secret Child

  Small-Town Nanny

  The Soldier and the Single Mom

  The Soldier’s Secret Child

  A Family for Easter

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  CHILD ON HIS DOORSTEP

  Lee Tobin McClain

  Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

  —Joshua 1:9

  To Grace, the inspiration for every child character I’ve ever written.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Raising Honor by Jill Lynn

  Chapter One

  Professor Corbin Beck stretched his stiff back, then leaned toward the computer screen in his home office. He was so close to figuring out the meaning behind his data points that he could taste it. Feel it. Smell it.

  Hear it.

  Hear it? He lifted his head. The sound he’d heard was a lot like a little kid crying.

  Must be one of Mrs. Hutchenson’s grandchildren next door. He refocused on his experimental protocol. If he could understand just where this was leading, he might make a breakthrough with nutritional care for senior dogs. It could have ramifications for other mammals, too. Not only would his position at the university be secured—no small thing for a guy who’d grown up the way he had—but he’d be helping animals. He understood them so much better than he understood people.

  He forked his fingers through his hair and leaned closer to the computer screen in front of him, but now that he’d noticed it, the wrenching, sobbing noise couldn’t be blocked out.

  Definitely a kid. Definitely crying. Definitely not at Mrs. Hutchenson’s house; much closer. Somewhere in the vicinity of his front door.

  He shook himself out of his academic fog, shoved back his chair and strode to the door. He’d get the unhappy little tyke back to his grandma—hopefully without terrorizing him, as he had a tendency to do with kids—and return to his work.

  He opened the front door of his sturdy brick home and reeled back a little. There, right on his front porch, was a scrawny toddler. The boy looked up at him and his squalling subsided for an instant, then started up again with redoubled force.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Corbin hurried out onto the porch and folded his six-foot-three frame a little closer to the child, peering at him. Yep, super skinny with long, wildly curly hair, just as Corbin had had as a kid. Fortunately, Corbin looked more ordinary now, but he remembered being teased and felt a pang of sympathy for what this child was likely to go through.

  He seemed to be quite a crybaby, which Corbin had been as well. Worse and worse for the child. Although since this one couldn’t be more than two, he had every right to act like a baby. “Where’s your mother?” he asked.

  “Mama!” The child wailed louder.

  Corbin cringed and squinted toward the house next door, but there was no sign of life there. He vaguely remembered hearing Mrs. Hutchenson and her grandkids packing up the car with a picnic basket and bats and balls and Frisbees, when he’d come out onto his porch to stretch his back. That must have been around three thirty, just after the time the school bus usually chugged by.

  Now, the sun was setting, golden and gorgeous as only an Ohio sunset could be.

  The child’s wails seemed to be subsiding, probably from exhaustion. His big brown eyes still broadcasting fear and worry, he reached for a stuffed tiger that was lying on top of a superhero suitcase.

  Corbin blinked. A suitcase? And was that a car seat next to it?

  When the boy secured the stuffed tiger and put its toe in his mouth, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

  Corbin snatched it up, his quick movements causing the child to break into another round of ear-splitting shrieks.

  Could Corbin slip back inside, away from the noise, to read what looked like a letter? No, that probably wouldn’t be humane, leaving a crying child alone on the porch. But he couldn’t stand to watch the kid get redder and redder in the face, practically choking on his sobs.

  He went inside, grabbed a chocolate bar from the stash beside his recliner, and took one longing glance into his study, where his neatly lined-up papers sat beside his computer.

  The sooner you help the kid, the sooner you can get back to work. He went back out onto the porch, the screen door banging behind him. “Here,” he said, unwrapping the candy bar and thrusting it into the child’s grubby hand.

  The child stared at him and kept crying.

  “Eat it,” he encouraged, an
d reached out, intending to break off a piece and show the kid how. Come to think of it, he hadn’t eaten anything today himself. The candy looked good.

  “Mine.” The little boy clutched the candy to his chest, then lifted it to his mouth for a cautious lick.

  The sobs stopped, and a smile crossed the little boy’s tear-stained face. He mashed half the candy bar into his mouth.

  Blessed silence reigned. And Corbin remembered the letter he was still holding in his hand. He lifted it and began to read.

  * * *

  Seriously, Corbin—candy? Samantha Alcorn shook her head and shifted positions inside the small copse of evergreen bushes along the side of Corbin’s small yard.

  She’d taken watch half an hour ago, the longest half hour she’d ever experienced. It wasn’t just that the ground was muddy and cold. Listening to little Mikey cry had ripped at her heart. To stop herself from rushing over and scooping him up, she’d gripped the branch beside her so hard she’d gotten red dents in her hands.

  It was for Mikey’s greater good, though. That was what this whole mission was about. If she could help Mikey find a good home, if she could save him from an awful childhood—all while keeping the truth about him secret from Corbin—maybe, just maybe, she could forgive herself for what she’d done.

  She couldn’t forget. And she wasn’t ever going to have a family herself, didn’t deserve one. Helping Mikey, though, would be satisfaction enough. At least, she hoped so. Just like she hoped Mikey would find a happy home with Corbin. Although the full-sized chocolate bar he’d consumed in record time gave her a niggling sense of worry...

  Mikey, temporarily sated by the candy, sat cuddling his tiger and studying Corbin.

  Samantha studied Corbin too as he stood in the golden light, reading the letter. My, my, my.

  Tall and muscular, the glasses he’d plucked from atop his head giving him an intellectual air, he looked way more attractive than a former ninety-pound weakling, now nerdy college professor, ought to be.

  How was he going to react to the contents of the letter?

  And how was she going to take action on the next part of the plan?

  He finished reading, and even from across the small yard, Samantha heard his sigh. He took off his glasses and looked into the distance, then frowned at Mikey as if the little boy were a complete mystery.

  “Mama,” Mikey said fretfully, and looked toward the street where his mother had driven away. “Mama.”

  The discouraged sound in the toddler’s voice brought tears to Samantha’s eyes.

  “Where’s your mama?” Corbin asked, sitting heavily down on the front porch step, marginally closer to Mikey.

  Mikey pointed in the direction of Main Street.

  “I guess we should go look for her,” Corbin said. Again, he studied the boy, his forehead wrinkling. “Can you walk?”

  “No walk.” Mikey pointed to the rope tied around his ankle. “No walk.”

  Corbin’s whole body stiffened, and then he knelt and rapidly untied the child.

  Samantha’s face heated. That was the part she hadn’t wanted to agree to, but Mikey’s mother had casually explained that Mikey was used to it, that she regularly leashed him to a chair leg or doorknob when she needed to keep him safe.

  Bringing him to Corbin is for Mikey’s greater good. She shifted position and watched while Corbin picked up the little boy and lifted him down the steps. He didn’t even seem to notice the chocolatey hands gripping at his shirt.

  “This way,” he said. “Let’s go find Mom.” But his voice was bleak.

  It looked like he knew he wasn’t going to find Cheryl.

  But by going downtown, he was playing right into Samantha’s hands. As soon as the pair had made their slow way past her hiding place, she checked the area, climbed stealthily out of the bushes, and brushed off her knees.

  Enough of playing the role of Moses’s sister. She was about to take center stage.

  As she headed after the pair, walking at a safe distance, Samantha marveled at the unexpected paths life could take. No one who’d known her in her younger days would have expected her to allude to a bible story, even inside her own head.

  What was the world coming to?

  * * *

  As Corbin walked through downtown Bethlehem Springs, he held two-year-old Mikey—his brother, if his mother’s note was to be believed—by the hand. The little boy clutched his tiger in his other arm.

  How could his mother inflict Mikey on him, and especially, how could she inflict Corbin on Mikey?

  She couldn’t. She’d just have to take Mikey back.

  He blew out a sigh. What was he doing, walking downtown, anyway? Did he really think he’d find Cheryl in one of the cafés? More likely at a bar out by the highway. He’d pulled her out of a few of them in his day.

  I have a brother. Corbin could barely take it in.

  Suddenly, Mikey pulled his hand away from Corbin’s and pointed. “Dog!” he said joyously, pointing across the street.

  And then he took off toward it, running with all his two-year-old might.

  “No!” Corbin dove after Mikey as time seemed to switch into slow motion.

  An oncoming car swerved, its brakes squealing.

  Corbin caught Mikey in his arms and crashed to the ground, landing hard on his shoulder to keep from hurting the child. He wrapped his brother in a bear hug and scrambled to the curb.

  “My tiger!” Mikey sobbed.

  Reese and Gabby Markowski, owners of the dog, rushed across the street with their daughter, Izzy. Gabby picked up the tiger and handed it to Mikey as the driver of the car, Bernadette Williams, parked and hurried back over.

  “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she said. “Everybody okay here?”

  “Yes, thanks to your good reflexes.” Corbin flopped down on a bench, Mikey in his arms. “I thought I’d have a heart attack, too.” Was he going to have to place his brother in social services? No way could he take care of him. He’d almost gotten the child killed within the first hour of meeting him.

  “Somebody needs to teach this little one to stay out of the street,” she said. “And keep a firm hold on his hand until he’s learned it.”

  “You’re right.” Corbin felt completely inadequate. Was completely inadequate.

  “All right. I’m late to a finance committee meeting. You all take care.” And Ms. Williams hurried off.

  “Who’s this?” Reese asked over Mikey’s whimpers.

  “Um, it’s...my little brother,” Corbin said, trying on the words. “I’m taking care of him for awhile.” A very little while. Cheryl had said a week in her letter, but he’d like to make it shorter. Surely he could find his mother today or tomorrow and force her to take responsibility.

  But even as he had that thought, a sick feeling spread through his stomach. Cheryl hadn’t been much of a mother during Corbin’s childhood, and it was doubtful that she’d improved. Her drinking had gotten steadily worse, to the point where he’d had to cut her out of his life for his own sanity a few years ago; all she ever wanted him for was money, anyway, and all she ever spent it on was booze.

  As for their father, he didn’t even merit the name.

  If Mikey’s parents were incompetent, and so was he, then what was going to happen to Mikey?

  “If he needs a friend, he can come over and visit with Izzy anytime,” Gabby said, ruffling Mikey’s hair. “We’re running late for play group right now—hey, you should bring him to that next time!”

  “Hit us up if you need anything,” Reese said, and they were off.

  Corbin stared after them, bemused. There was a whole world of parents and kids and activities that he had no clue about. He tended to avoid kids.

  And now here was one sobbing in his arms.

  Chocolate had worked before. He looked around, spotted Cleo’s
Crafts and Café, and took Mikey inside. Soon, they were seated at a small table with two mugs of hot chocolate and two giant cookies.

  Mikey grabbed at his hot chocolate. The mug tipped onto its side, spilling it onto the table.

  Corbin jumped up and yanked Mikey away from the steaming liquid, then held his brother at arm’s length to study him. If he’d gotten burned, Corbin wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. “Where does it hurt?” he asked.

  “Chocolate!” Mikey wailed, pointing at the spilled beverage now soaking the tiger’s leg and dripping onto the café floor. “Want chocolate!”

  “It’s okay, you can have my hot chocolate.” He sat down on the edge of his chocolatey chair and perched Mikey awkwardly on his knee.

  “Need some help?” came a husky voice above him, a voice that had always sent electrical sensations up and down his spine.

  “Samantha?” Corbin stared at the girl he’d never expected to see again.

  “I’m surprised you remember my name.”

  He squinted at her. How could he forget the name of his secret crush? She’d been a freshman when he’d been a senior, but from the moment he’d seen her in the cafeteria, he’d never been able to get her out of his mind.

  She was even prettier than she’d been in high school, where she’d worn nothing but black. Now, she was dressed in slim-fitting jeans and a shirt made of some flimsy, flowery stuff. “I’ll get some napkins,” she said, and walked up to the counter.

  Corbin was sure his weren’t the only male eyes that followed her. Even Mikey stopped crying to stare.

  She came back and made quick work of cleaning up the table, the tiger and Mikey while Corbin introduced them and explained he was taking care of Mikey for a little while.

  She didn’t laugh at the notion of him caring for a child. That was kind of her.

  “Hot chocolate from a regular cup might not be a good idea,” she said instead. “Want me to get him a box of juice or something?”

  “Sure,” Corbin said. “Here, Mikey, eat some cookie.”