Carolyn Davidson by The Tender Stranger

in the wonder of a mite of humanity that filled her arms, even as it filled the empty space in her heart.
    Her fingers moved rapidly, undoing the buttons that closed her robe, then the gown beneath. From her breasts flowed a steady drip of milk.
    With shaking hands she guided the tiny mouth to her breast. With teeth pressing into her lower lip, she anticipated the feel of those miniature lips surrounding her nipple. And with a joy beyond all belief, she knew the touch of a baby’s tongue, lapping at the abundance of nourishment she offered it.
    He latched on to her flesh, sucked twice and released his hold, choking as the milk rushed down his throat. He coughed, nuzzling her; then, finding the swollen nipple, he sought once more to suckle from it
    It overflowed his mouth and his eyes opened, widening with his efforts as he swallowed the bounty she offered.
    Quinn thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Not just the firm, curving loveliness of a woman’s breast-although that sight more than brought pleasure to his gaze-but the purity of woman and child, bonded in a moment of giving and taking. A moment so keenly felt, so deeply engraved on his sight, he thought he might never recover from the joy of it.
    “He was hungry.” Probably the understatement of the year, he thought, grinning as Erin’s head tilted back, allowing their eyes to mesh in an instant of pleasure.
    “Tell me, Quinn. Where did you find him?” Herwords were whispered, soft as moonlight, as if she were so filled with awe, she could scarcely speak aloud.
    “His mama died, Erin. Remember the fire in town, as we were leaving the other day? His daddy didn’t live through the fire, and his mama just didn’t make it when he was born.”
    Erin’s eyes filled with tears, as if she grieved for the woman whose child she held. “There was no one to care for him?”
    Quinn shook his head. “He didn’t want what they had to offer. Doc Fisher’s housekeeper was trying to feed him when I got there, and when I told her about you, she just snatched up a couple of blankets and wrapped him like a length of sausage and handed him to me.”
    Erin laughed softly, and then as if the vision he etched pleased her enormously, she giggled, dipping her head to drop a kiss on the wispy dark hair that crowned the baby in her arms.
    “Did he cry all the way here?” Her toe touched the floor, and she rocked in time with the patting of her palm against the blanketed form.
    “No. Slept the first part of the way, in fact. Poor little mite has been barely getting enough nourishment to keep him going, I guess.” He bent to peer at the tightly closed eyes and the cheeks that suctioned milk from Erin’s breast.
    “You’re crying.” His hand reached to brush at tears that trickled down her cheek and he squatted beside the rocker, his gaze focusing on her face. Her teeth were gnawing on her lip and she shook her head, as if to deny his claim.
    “It’s all right, but it hurts, Quinn. I think I’m just so full and the skin is stretched so tight and he’s suckingso hard.” She bit at her lip again, rocking harder, as if the movement would alleviate the pain.
    “What can I do?”
    She looked at him, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Really I am. I think it’ll be better, after the swelling has gone down.”
    “I almost forgot!” Quinn rose quickly, reaching into the pockets of his coat, fishing out a small bottle between his fingers. “Doc sent some camphorated oil. Said it would take out the soreness. But you’ll want to be careful not to get it in the baby’s mouth.”
    She nodded. “I’ll use it after he’s done.” As if in reply to her words, the babe released his hold and Quinn watched as a trickle of milk flowed from the corner of the tiny mouth.
    Blue eyes opened, and a soft release of air from the infant brought laughter into being. “He burped! All by himself.” She lifted the baby, easing her gown into place, holding the child against