Читать книгу Deputy Daddy - Patricia Johns - Страница 10

Chapter One

“You’ll need to burp her after that bottle,” Police Chief Chance Morgan said, glancing over his shoulder on his way past Bryce Camden’s temporary desk.

Bryce looked down at the tiny baby in the crook of his arm. She barely seemed to weigh anything, her rump resting in the palm of his hand and her tiny hands opening and closing in the rhythm of her drinking. The small Colorado town of Comfort Creek was the remote location of his disciplinary action for having punched a fellow officer in the kisser. He’d arrived that morning with an angry simmer in the pit of his stomach that barely covered the sour taste of humiliation, and the police chief dropped a newborn in his lap.

He’d never burped a baby in his life.

“Is that an order, sir?” Bryce asked.

“Yes.” The chief shot him an amused look. “Consider this part of your sensitivity training.”

The baby had been abandoned at the station in the wee hours of the morning, an out-of-date car seat left on the doorstep. Whoever had left her had pounded on the door and slipped away. When Bryce clocked in for the start of this two-week debacle, they’d immediately put him on baby duty.

So far, sensitivity training looked a whole lot like babysitting, and he’d never been very comfortable around kids, something he had in common with his dad. Some things were hereditary, like the combination of black hair and blue eyes. He was confident that his discomfort with kids came from the same genetic source. His father had been a lousy parent, and he had it on good authority—from his overworked and chronically frustrated mother—that he was just like his old man. And if anyone wanted confirmation on that, they could ask the officer with the split lip.

Christian cops weren’t supposed to go around venting their anger with their fists, no matter how good their reasons, and while he’d never been the preachy type, his faith was pretty common knowledge. On Sunday mornings when he was on shift, he’d stand in uniform at the back of his local church and listen to the sermon from there, his radio dialed down to a whisper. So there were certain expectations when it came to him. When anyone else on the force messed up, there was a well of commiseration. They were all human, and a badge and a gun didn’t change that. But when the Christian cop messed up, there was a little more judgment, a little more surprise. He’d let them all down.

For the last few hours, Bryce had been calling the baby “Piglet.” It just seemed to suit the little thing, and as she drank the last dregs of the bottle, he was forced to stand by the nickname. She released the nipple with a pop and he put the bottle onto the desk, then lifted her gingerly. He’d already been schooled on supporting the downy head, and when he tipped her forward onto his chest, she squirmed again and let out a little whimper of protest.

“Okay—” Bryce patted at the tiny back tentatively. “How do I do this exactly?”

The last few burpings and diaper changes had been taken over by some officers who had kids, so they knew the ropes when it came to infants. Now it was his turn, and no one seemed to pity him. He heard the front door open and close behind him as he attempted to position the baby on his shoulder.

A female voice said, “Where is the baby now?”

He heaved a sigh of relief. Reinforcements were here. That was probably the promised foster care provider. He patted the baby’s back gently, afraid of pummeling the infant too hard. In response, she let out a resounding burp.

“Nice one, Piglet,” he congratulated the infant, and he turned to see who would be relieving him of his duty when he stopped short.

She wasn’t the matronly type that he had anticipated. This woman was young with short-cropped blond hair that swept over her forehead and brought out her big blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles over her nose, too, that struck him as sweet. A white sundress patterned with stemmed cherries swung around her knees, and she wore a pair of low sling-back heels that completed her feminine look.

“Just over here,” the police chief said. “This is Officer Bryce Camden. He’s here in Comfort Creek for a short time.”

There was a depth of meaning behind those words, and the young woman regarded him with one arched brow. Did she know what that meant—that he was here completing disciplinary action? He gave her a curt nod. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. I’m Lily Ellison—your temporary foster care.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and her face was transformed from pretty to stunning. “Now, who do we have here?”

“No name provided,” the chief said with a shake of his head. “I suppose you could do the honors, Lily.”

Lily leaned closer to Bryce, a delicate fragrance of vanilla wafting around him momentarily as she slipped the infant out of his arms. Her skin was silky as it brushed against his when she took the baby, obviously more practiced than he was. She smiled down into the baby’s face. “Hi there, cutie. You need a name.”

Lily stood next to Bryce, so close that her skirt brushed his pant leg where he sat at the desk he’d been assigned for the next couple of weeks. A bottle, a cloth and a few diapers sat on the desktop next to him, and he wondered if he should gather them up for her, but he wasn’t sure where she’d even put them, so he left them where they were.

“What have you been calling her?” Lily asked, glanced down at Bryce.

“I’ve been calling her Piglet.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s awful.”

“Wait till you see her go to town on a bottle,” he retorted.

“How about Emily? If I ever have a little girl, I want to name her that, so I could share it, I suppose.” Lily looked down at the baby again. “Little Emily. Does that suit you?”

When the police chief headed off toward his office to grab the paperwork, Bryce eyed her speculatively.

“You look really young for this,” he said.

“For what?” she asked, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

“Foster care. Normally foster moms are—” he paused, uncertain how to say this delicately “—more mature.”

In his experience, foster moms were a tough lot of women—they had to be. Sometimes they had raised large families of their own, and they’d seen a lot, been through the wringer with the system more than once. They knew what troubled kids looked like, and their big hearts took thorough beatings.

“I’ve helped raise four younger brothers,” she said. “I’m qualified. Trust me.”

“Four.” He joked, “I’m sorry. That sounds painful.”

Her expression melted into a more relaxed smile. “You think you’re funny, but you haven’t met my brothers. So, you’re Bryce Camden?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re staying at my bed-and-breakfast.” She turned her attention back to the baby, although her words were meant for him. “Two weeks, paid in full. You’re my first guest, actually. I assume you’re arriving tonight after work?”

Bryce’s mind went back to the phone conversation he’d had with the owner of Comfort Creek B and B when he’d been irritably setting up his living arrangements for his stay. It had been a hurried discussion, but the B and B was pretty much the only place to stay in Comfort Creek, except for a dumpy-looking hotel that the department would have paid for, but the rebel in him wanted at least a small part of this on his own terms. He’d never imagined that the woman on the other end of that phone call was as pretty as this, or that he’d have to explain too much about his reasons for being here. “Yeah, I’ll be coming by after my shift is done.”

The police chief sauntered back to Bryce’s desk with a clipboard, and as he had Lily sign the necessary paperwork, Bryce looked at the baby once more. She had fallen asleep in Lily’s arms, her rosebud mouth still moving in a sucking motion. While he’d done his best not to bond with the infant, he had a feeling that he’d miss her.

“I’ll see you later,” Lily said, handing the clipboard back to the chief. She shot Bryce a smile. “I have your room ready. I think you’ll be very comfortable.”

There was no way to politely get out of this tonight. He’d just have to make the best of it. Right now, he was sincerely regretting having paid for the full two weeks up front. Staying with the town’s temporary foster care wasn’t a great idea.

“Thanks,” he said. “Do you need this stuff?”

“Please.”

Chief Morgan passed him a plastic bag, and Bryce gathered up the various baby accoutrements from his desk and put them inside. When he handed the bag to Lily, her hand lingered under his for a moment, and he met her clear gaze. Long lashes fringed her blue eyes, and for a moment he found all of his thoughts draining from his head.

“I’ll see you this evening,” she said. “For a nominal fee, I include dinners, too. Tonight would be chicken fettuccini.”

“That sounds great,” he said, which it did, but this still wasn’t a great plan. One night at the B and B with a decent dinner wouldn’t kill him, though. It would sure beat eating at that local burger joint that would effectively clog his arteries by the end of his time in Comfort Creek. It might be an acceptable risk, given the circumstances. “Oh, I should mention—she likes ‘America the Beautiful.’”

“Like, as a lullaby?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what else to sing to her, and it worked. So—” he shrugged “—heads up on that.”

“We’ll muddle through.” She cast him a smile, then turned toward the door. He’d just have to find a way out of the rest of the stay, because baby care wasn’t his strong suit, and Lily Ellison was too charming for his own good. He was here to do his time and get out. Period.

* * *

Lily peeked into the bassinet where little Emily lay in the corner of the spacious kitchen. Lily had been surprised when Chief Morgan called and asked if she could stand in as temporary foster care, and for a moment she’d considered turning him down. She had her first guest checking in today—a much-needed start to paying off some of this debt she’d accrued in renovating the old house. But she’d gotten her foster parent certification for a reason: she loved kids, and their town needed a backup to the one foster family it already had.

Growing up, her brothers had been like a tornado, and keeping up with their antics had been difficult. She’d gone from child to babysitter overnight, and she’d never had the luxury of messing up. The boys, however, ran roughshod over every rule or limit she put up for them. They’d eaten all the food in the house, devoured any treat their mother might have scrounged for the kids, occupied every spare inch that Lily might have been able to use for herself. And instead of terrorizing them back, she’d grudgingly let them have the bag of cookies, the TV time, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, their mother’s attention...because she loved them. And while foster care wouldn’t be easy, she had enough experience with rowdy, difficult kids that she felt like she had something to contribute. Every kid deserved love.

But when she started her business, she’d decided to put foster parenting on hold. She was finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of owning her own bed-and-breakfast, and that would require her whole attention. Then, of course, there was Aunt Clarisse’s wedding coming up—more family obligation—and her plate was officially full.

But hearing that the child was a newborn baby girl, her heart had melted. How much trouble could a tiny little girl be? The houseful of boys has been a noisy stampede, but she’d always wished for another girl in the family—someone to appreciate the feminine things with her. Her mother had been too busy with work and the boys for that. Lily was assured that this was a temporary arrangement, and she agreed. Her freedom would have to wait until Beverly Starchuck, the regular foster care provider, returned to Comfort Creek.

The kitchen was large, using up a full half of the main floor of the house. An old-fashioned stove and refrigerator dominated one side of the room, and a counter island sat squarely in the center, copper pots and pans hanging down from ceiling hooks above. A pot of thick Alfredo sauce sat cooling on the back burner of the stove, a colander of noodles draining in the oversize sink. This evening, the side door was propped open with a rock, revealing the wraparound veranda, and a warm, fragrant breeze swept inside.

Her guest would be here any minute now. Bryce Camden reminded her too much of her little brothers—good-looking, filled with testosterone and probably far more trouble than he was worth. Obviously, a first impression didn’t go too far, but she knew exactly why police officers came for two-week visits to their out-of-the-way town, and that was for disciplinary action. Bryce was no different from the others, and she’d had her fill of rebellious and charming men. Her little brothers had made certain of that. Now she had her sights set on one goal: some freedom to focus on her small business. She’d earned it.

Yet she had noticed his ice-blue eyes and the way one side of his mouth turned up before the other when he was about to smile. The prospect of having him as her first guest was mildly unsettling. Ironically, she was grateful for a bit of distraction now—Baby Emily and her Aunt Clarisse’s upcoming wedding. The entire extended family was in a tizzy about that wedding, and as maid of honor, she’d have her hands full. This was probably the first time she felt thankful for the unending burden of family obligation.

The cheerful chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, and Lily took one last look into the bassinet before heading down the hallway to the front door. Everything was guest-ready—everything, that is, except the flutter in her stomach.

“This is it,” she murmured to herself. This was the start of Comfort Creek’s Bed-and-Breakfast—her first guest.

When she pulled open the front door, Bryce stood there with a suitcase in hand, giving her a tentative smile. His uniform fit him perfectly, the two-toned blue bringing out those unsettlingly light eyes. He’d parked a black pickup truck in the shade of a spreading elm tree in the drive.

“You’re here,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open. “Welcome! I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Bryce stepped inside, and she saw him look around the foyer. She knew exactly what he’d be seeing. A hall chest sat against one wall, a beveled mirror hanging above it. A mason jar of lilacs from the side of the house sat on the top of the hall chest, spilling their fragrance around the entranceway. Behind her, a bright white staircase led upstairs.

“Nice place,” Bryce said. “A far cry from that hotel along the highway.”

“The Melody Inn?” Lily swung the door shut. “That place has a rat infestation. And that isn’t just a competitor being catty, either. They’re shut down for the next two weeks while they get it under control. They’re as big as raccoons, apparently. It’s the most interesting thing happening in town right now, besides my Aunt Clarisse’s wedding, that is.”

Bryce winced. “Well, good thing I’m here, then.”

There was something in his voice that gave her pause, and she mentally kicked herself. She had a bad habit of saying too much. This wasn’t a friend dropping by for a visit—she was supposed to be professional. Just then the baby started to cry.

“That would be Emily.”

She headed back into the kitchen, too aware of the tall man behind her. He had a way of making her feel flustered in spite of herself. She heard Bryce set his suitcase by the door, then his footsteps came down the hallway after her. Emily’s tiny cry wavered from the corner. Lily scooped her up and the weeping stopped immediately. Her little onesie was damp from sweat, and Lily could only imagine that some air would feel nice.

Lily noticed Bryce pause in the doorway, and when he saw the baby, his expression grew softer. “How’s she doing?” he asked.

“Good.” Lily went closer so that he could see Emily’s little squished face. “She’s been sleeping and going through a lot of bottles of milk. She loves to be held, this one.”

“I’m glad,” he said, then cleared his throat. “So do you run this place by yourself?” He stepped back, then poked his head out the side door where a padded wicker chair waited invitingly.

“I do,” she said. “Can’t afford employees yet.”

She was proud of the title of sole owner—one she’d hardly dreamed possible. She would never have been able to save up a down payment to get started on her own, so she’d entered a contest for young entrepreneurs in Colorado with her business plan. She’d won first place—a check just big enough for her down payment on the old house and some supplies. Lily was certain it was an answer to her fervent prayers. A chance to climb out of the poverty she’d grown up in. And when God put an opportunity like this in her lap, she wasn’t about to squander it.

“Taking care of this place alone—is that safe?” Bryce pulled his head back inside and fixed her with a steady look. His seriousness was almost comical. What did he expect happened in Comfort Creek, exactly?

Lily laughed. “Of course. I know just about everybody in town, and we’re only three blocks from the police station.” She was also counting on most of her clientele being officers just like Bryce. Comfort Creek was probably the only town this size that had a regular influx of visitors due to the county’s training program.

Bryce smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I’m used to a different pace in Fort Collins.”

“Yeah, I imagine.” She switched the baby to the other arm, and Emily looked around in that cross-eyed way that newborns had.

“So, if you know everyone in town, any guesses as to the mother of Piglet here?” he asked, reaching out to touch her hand. The baby closed her fingers around his thumb.

Lily made a face. “A little piece of advice—never call a girl Piglet.” Bryce shot her a teasing grin, a little too much like her brothers did. “And no, I don’t know who the mother is. Maybe someone from an outlying community? I have no idea.”

She paused. Professionalism must prevail.

“Would you like me to show you to your room?” Lily asked. “Maybe you’d like to get settled before dinner.”

“I’m starving, actually. Wouldn’t mind eating first,” he said.

Lily gestured toward the rustic table, which she had set and ready for dinner. She looked down at the baby and back to Bryce. She couldn’t serve food one-handed.

“Hold her, would you? I just need to get dinner off the stove.”

Bryce froze for a moment, then awkwardly reached out to accept Emily from her hands. For a man who’d cared for the baby the entire morning, he was certainly acting strange. She eyed him curiously as she served up a heaping plate of fettuccine Alfredo, topping it with strips of lemon-marinated chicken breast. He settled Emily into the crook of his muscular arm, and she looked quickly away. He was a good-looking man, but she didn’t feel comfortable noticing that right now.

“So what do you normally do in Fort Collins?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t babysit,” he said. “There is a lot more actual crime-stopping.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Welcome to Comfort Creek. So what did you do to get sent here?”

She caught a look of embarrassment cross his face, and she immediately regretted the question—at least the phrasing. She was still rather curious about why he was here. What had he done to merit two weeks in the dullest town in Colorado?

“I had a little disagreement with another officer,” he said, smiling wanly. “It got...heated.”

“Ah.” She was curious what “heated” looked like, but she wouldn’t ask. Bryce Camden was a big man with a broad chest and muscles that strained his shirtsleeves when he bent his arms. She could imagine that he’d be intimidating.

She brought his plate back to the table and set it in front of him. A jug of pink lemonade sat within his reach, the clear glass fogged with condensation.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked.

“I’ve already eaten,” she admitted. She hadn’t worked out how she’d feed her guests—leaving them be or sitting with them. Bryce seemed to want company, so she sat down in a chair opposite him.

“Let me take her back,” Lily said, and lifted the baby from his arms. Child care was tiring, but there was something so sweet about little Emily that Lily found herself feeling strangely complete with the baby back in her arms. This hadn’t been part of her plan at all, but this tiny girl had her by the heartstrings already.

“So tell me about this aunt’s wedding,” he said, pouring a glass of lemonade.

“Pardon me?”

“You said it’s the most interesting thing happening around here,” he said. “Besides rats.”

Lily smiled and shook her head. “Well, Aunt Clarisse is widowed. She’s about sixty-four or so now. My uncle died ten years ago, and she’s been alone all this time. Then all of a sudden she announced that she’s getting married to some fellow she met online.”

“Oh yeah?” He sat back in his chair and shot her a curious glance. “How long did they date?”

“She says it was for a few months, but we’d never seen him before—or heard of him, for that matter. Last month, Aaron moved to town, and they started planning their wedding.” She nodded to his untouched plate of food. “Bon appétit.”

“This looks delicious.” Bryce bowed his head for a moment, then sank his fork into the noodles without missing a beat. “So what’s the problem with Aaron?”

“I didn’t say there was a problem,” she said with a small smile.

“You didn’t need to. You don’t hide your feelings very well.”

She never had been able to mask her true emotions. But when it came to Aaron, it wasn’t that Lily thought that a difference in age was that big of a deal. She’d watched enough crime shows to know that mature widows were a prime target for con men, however—a sentiment shared by half of her extended family.

“He’s quite a bit younger than she is,” she said.

“How much younger?”

“About twenty years.”

“It’s not unheard of,” Bryce agreed thoughtfully. “But I see the concern.”

“So you’re right, we’re worried.”

“Who’s we?” he asked, swallowing a bite.

“About half the family,” she admitted.

“And the other half?”

“Thinks she’s making a fool of herself.”

Bryce barked out a laugh. “So you get a feeling that something is up, do you?”

Lily sighed. “If there were something suspicious going on, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try to protect my aunt. I know that TV isn’t real life, but I’ve seen the shows, and—”

“No, you’re right about it looking a bit suspicious. I mean, there might be nothing to it. It might be that two perfectly nice people fell in love with each other and want to get married. A few months of dating is quick, but not unheard of. Like you said, though, you’ve never seen the guy before. People can pretend to be something they aren’t pretty easily online.”

“So you think I’m right?” she clarified.

“I think it’s worth looking into,” he replied, spearing a piece of chicken. “This is amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Lily smiled at the compliment. She was relieved to have Bryce agreeing with her about her aunt’s beau. When she’d mentioned it to another officer she knew, he’d told her that there was no legal obstacle to her aunt marrying anyone she chose. But Officer Nick Colburn had also been fighting with his girlfriend’s family at the time, so that might have colored his view a little bit. But if Bryce would help her—

“So, will you look into it, then?” Lily asked.

“Pardon me?” Bryce blinked.

“My aunt’s fiancé.” She leaned forward. “Will you make sure that he isn’t some sort of con man?”

Bryce didn’t answer for a moment, and his gaze turned toward the window. Outside there were some fruit trees and a wooden framed swing. He didn’t seem to be taking in the scenery, though. Had she overstepped again? Probably. She was the queen of overstepping, it seemed.

“I’m sorry.” She rose to her feet and swayed gently, the baby’s eyes slowly closing as she did so. “I can get too friendly. I’m used to knowing everyone and—”

“So what’s this guy’s name?” Bryce asked.

“Are you saying you’ll look into it for me?” She stopped rocking, and Emily’s eyes popped back open again.

“I might as well,” he said. “While I’m here.”

Lily blinked back a mist of unexpected emotion and gave a curt nod. She was more relieved than she realized.

“His name is Aaron Bay. He claims to be from Denver. And the wedding is in two weeks, so—”

“So we’re on a bit of a tight schedule,” Bryce concluded.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Thank you, Bryce. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

If this officer would help her to get some answers, it would take away one of her worries. Aunt Clarisse was a kind woman—maybe too kind for her own good. A cynical cop was just what they all needed, and his visit was perfectly timed. He had two weeks in town, and she had two weeks until her aunt’s wedding.

Lily began to rock Emily again, and those little eyes drooped shut. She might be the queen of overstepping, but she’d keep a tight rein on her behavior with this handsome cop. The last thing she needed was to complicate her life any more than it already was.