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Babies and Badges
Laura Marie Altom
Sheriff Noah Wheeler of Pritchett County, Arkansas, decided long ago that commitment isn't his style–and there are at least seventeen local women ready to agree with him! But when he finds himself at the side of the highway with Cassie Tremont, a woman about to deliver twins, his whole world shifts.Suddenly all Noah wants is to protect this vulnerable redhead and her new family.But Cassie was badly hurt by a double-dealing husband and she's vowed to raise her twin daughters alone. Now the sheriff has become her guardian angel–and she's no longer so sure about that decision…. Especially when he seems to think the four of them are already a family!


“That’s quite a man you’ve got there.”
The nurse spoke to Cassie while making a note on her chart.
“Thanks, but Noah’s not my man. He’s my guardian angel.”
And speaking of angels…
The sleeping angel Cassie held in her arms took her breath away. Had there ever been a more beautiful sight?
Emotion swelling, she blinked back tears. Every bit of the anguish she’d been through was worth it. Not only was she alive, but she was holding her very much alive baby in her arms, with another perfect baby waiting in line for her breakfast.
And just think, she had this double blessing and her own life all because of Noah. Though the actual delivery of her babies had become a blur, he was the one thing about her ordeal that she’d never forget. His soothing voice, and the way he’d held her hand, urging her not to give up.
Starting at the still-warm spot on her forehead where Sheriff Noah Wheeler had planted his tender kiss, she felt a quiet contentment creep through her.
Dear Reader,
Some of my books contain more of the real me than others, and Babies and Badges is definitely one of the stories with a lot of me! First, I grew up in Springdale, Arkansas, which is only about forty-five minutes from the fictional small town of Riverdale. This mountainous part of the state is gorgeous any time of the year, but the story opens in spring, when the leaves are such a luminous shade of green that they look as if they’re floating. The smells are heady. Rich and loamy and sweet. Okay, so clearly I love the setting. Ah, but the people of Arkansas I love even more. Lots of quirky true individuals never in such a hurry that they can’t take time out to share their day.
The hero of this story, Noah Wheeler, was a football star at the University of Arkansas, where I graduated in 1989. Cassie, the heroine, is an interior designer in Little Rock. While I never practiced there, right out of college I did interior design work for what have since become two of the most prestigious architectural firms in the state. All of that is just backbone to the story. Many of my favorite things wove their way in. The War Eagle Craft Fair. Saturday morning yard sales. Steeple Hill author Margaret Daley’s hot yellow Thunderbird convertible…and my love for all deep-fried foods!
For those of you who’ve never had the pleasure of visiting this enchanting state, I hope reading Noah and Cassie’s story will tempt y’all into coming on over for a visit real soon!
Laura Marie Altom
I love hearing from readers at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101 or by e-mail at BaliPalm@aol.com. And check out my Web site at www.lauramariealtom.com!
Babies and Badges
Laura Marie Altom


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my dear grandmother-in-law, Wanda Thompson-Davis—better known in the family as Nana—and her husband, Sonny Thompson, whom I’m deeply sorry never to have known. How you two got left off my special grandparents’ dedication I’m still trying to figure out! In the meantime, please know how much you mean to all of us here in Tulsa!

Contents
Chapter One (#u90c3318e-e699-5417-91f7-0990b92174e9)
Chapter Two (#ua482ace2-5e1d-5dd0-b5a3-9b9b3d0793ab)
Chapter Three (#u2026553e-aae1-5c07-8699-b9e3009904e4)
Chapter Four (#u1e65fcee-3d25-53bc-8dfd-eb78db6f6b0e)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One
Sheriff Noah Wheeler glared at the pink rice bag occupying his passenger seat and muttered, “I’ll give you a Here comes the bride…”
Tightening his grip on the wheel, telling himself the muggy May breeze ruffling his hair through the ancient Suburban’s open window was relaxing instead of annoying, he sighed.
What the hell had he been thinking attending Kelsey’s wedding?
Was he some kind of sicko masochist?
He’d given that woman some of the best months of his life—eight to be exact. They’d traveled. Done Branson, Missouri. Taken a fountain tour of Kansas City. No destination had been too much trouble. Shoot, he’d even driven her all the way to Fayetteville on a weeknight just to see Christmas lights on the square! He’d barbecued with her, made grilled cheese sandwiches for her when she’d broken her pinkie finger. He’d changed her car’s oil. Driven her to work when she’d gotten that bogus new set of tires.
In short, he’d done everything for her.
And what had she done for him?
Gone off and married another man—one of his good friends, dammit. And then had the gall to invite him to the wedding!
Time for the truth yet, Wheeler? Or you gonna stay hitched to this pity train for the rest of your life?
He glared at the road winding its way through northwest Arkansas. At tender new leaves in the forest thick with maples and oaks and fading redbuds. At tender side-of-the-road grasses just tall enough to sway in his truck’s breeze.
By the end of next week, traffic would be bumper to bumper with RVs and minivans heading for the twice-annual War Eagle Craft Fair, but today, at least, the highway was deserted.
Just like him.
And that was how he liked it. He was a bachelor. The best of a dying breed. He was a downright professional single guy who’d long ago decided to be happy with his eternally single state.
Nope, no more moping for him.
Cruising past Judi Thompson’s place with her rows of hybrid irises looking like pastel Easter eggs fastened atop fragile green stems, he decided to be happy about spring. Not just spring, the season, but this newfound spring in his life.
His conscience snorted.
Good one, buddy. Mind B.S.ing your way back to the truth?
Noah pressed his lips tighter than the zipper on a virgin’s prom dress.
Okay, so maybe if he were honest with himself, he’d admit he was a little blue. And maybe Kelsey had tearfully broken things off with him for a very good reason—at least in her mind. And okay, yeah, her new husband, Owen, had requested Noah’s permission before even asking her on a first date. But geez, did he have to go and get hitched to her?
Okay, so maybe Noah did have certain issues with even saying the word relationship, let alone m-marriage.
See? He could barely even think it!
But she could’ve stuck by him.
She could’ve been content for them to spend the rest of their lives dating. Just like he was. But she’d stubbornly insisted on the two of them tying the knot, going so far as to give him an ultimatum. Either he marry her or it was over. He’d been every bit as bullheaded, insisting they maintain the status quo. They didn’t need rings to show the world they were a couple.
Shoot, they’d had matching Razorback T-shirts, and he’d spent Christmas and Thanksgiving with her family instead of his. What more could a woman want?
Judging by today’s ceremony—a lot!
By God, Noah Wheeler always—always—honored his commitments. If he said he’d stick by her, he would. He just didn’t see the need to go making it all official.
He’d already gone that route, and everyone in the county knew darned well what’d happened.
The drive from Eureka Springs’s famous Thorn-crown Chapel grew more tedious by the mile—or maybe it was Noah’s own company getting on his nerves. Whatever the case, he reached into the glove box where he kept an emergency stash of candy bars and pulled out a Twix.
He’d just put the gold foil wrapper to his teeth when he spotted one of those fancy new Thunderbird convertibles with its flashers on a couple hundred yards up the road. The pale-yellow dream on wheels was way too new to be having mechanical problems, so he figured the owner must’ve run out of gas.
Thrilled to have a distraction, Noah eased his SUV onto the wide shoulder behind it, grateful the car’s driver had had the good fortune to not run dry on one of the many sections of the road with a steep drop-off.
Noah had already pulled off the tie he’d worn to the wedding, and after easing out of his truck, nursing his aching left knee—always a barrel of monkeys in this muggy weather—he ditched his jacket as well, tossing it on top of the rice bag he planned on letting the guys down at the station use for target practice.
Without his radio or gun, he felt naked approaching the car. He could’ve called in his stop on the fixed radio in the truck, but didn’t much see the need. Judging by the long, wavy hair, he could tell a woman sat in the front seat, head slumped against the headrest. Probably taking a nap.
“Hello!” he called out, walking slowly toward the driver’s side.
When he got no answer, his heart beat faster.
Was she hurt?
“Hello? Sheriff Noah Wheeler here. Just checkin’ to see if you need any help.”
A VW Bug whizzed by—the old kind.
Red.
The exhaust stung his nose.
Senses on full alert, wondering if maybe he should call in, he crept closer still. “I’d sure appreciate a wave or something. You know, just to let me know you’re all right.”
Greg Morris down in Washington County had gotten shot approaching a vehicle. The woman driver had played dead, while in the passenger seat her boyfriend hunkered down with a .357 Magnum. They’d been running drugs to the U of A campus from Dallas. Greg was now in a grave, and Noah hoped his killers spent the rest of their lives in the equivalent, only with concrete walls instead of dirt.
His pulse hammered, and a bead of sweat slid down his right temple.
Damn this heat and this stupid dress shirt.
He could see through the rear driver’s-side porthole window that the passenger seat was empty. But since he couldn’t see if the woman was truly asleep, or hurt, or just playing possum, he took it slow.
“Ma’am? You need help?”
“Mmm…”
He raised his eyebrows. Had that been a moan?
Throwing caution to the wind, heart racing as he prayed this wouldn’t turn out like that nightmarish Monday on Blue Springs Road, he finished his approach, and wished he’d done it a lot sooner, as the woman behind the wheel was about twelve months pregnant and obviously in trouble.
Her window was down, so he lightly shook her shoulder. “Ma’am? Can you look at me?”
Resting on a pillow of her lush red hair, she inched her head to the left, then opened exotic jade-green eyes a millimeter at a time. “I—” She licked her lips. Full, kissable lips attached to a flawless complexion—which must’ve cost an awful lot of money to keep up. The kind of money that had no business being on the side of the road in desolate Pritchett County. A fine mist of sweat coated her forehead and upper lip, and her breathing was erratic. She licked those lips of hers again, then said, “I—could you please help?”
Her gaze fell to her bulging tummy.
His gaze followed. “You in labor?”
Sucking in a swift gulp of air, she nodded.
“Okay, um—first off, I’m gonna call for help. Then we’re gonna get you out of here and into the back of my truck where I think you’ll be more comfortable.”
Again, all she could do was nod.
If Noah had thought his pulse was racing earlier, now he felt on the verge of passing out. He’d seen a lot of things in his years as county sheriff, but thankfully, he’d never happened upon a scene like this.
He reached his SUV in record time and radioed for an ambulance. The dispatcher patched him through to paramedics and after relaying what sketchy information he had, he dashed around to the back of his truck.
The rear door opened with a metallic screech, and Noah tossed aside the jack and jumper cables and spare jugs of wiper wash fluid, oil and water. He found the first-aid kit under the Bulldog bleacher pad he’d bought from one of his deputy’s kids.
Next, he lowered the back seat into the flat position, then made a nest out of the stash of blankets he hadn’t yet removed from that winter.
With the back seat down, he had a clear view of Kelsey’s foil-wrapped wedding present on the front floorboard. Looked like something good had come from skipping out on the reception, since the contents of the box was a half-dozen ecru towels.
Ecru.
Now, who but Kelsey would ask for ecru towels?
Forcing Kelsey and the way she’d looked in her white satin gown from his mind, he dashed back to the Thunderbird.
“How’re you doing?” he asked the woman inside, bum knee aching and slightly out of breath from adrenaline.
His heart sank when, once again, all he got from her was a weak nod.
“Okay, well, at least you’re not worse. I’m going to open your door,” he said, doing just that. “And then I’m going to lift you out of there.” With the door open, he saw that she couldn’t have been much over five feet. Good thing, since her car probably wouldn’t hold anyone over five-three—and certainly not his own six-foot frame.
She wasn’t wearing her seat belt, so he slipped his left hand beneath her knees and his right behind her back, easing her out of the car and deeper into his arms. She wore a black sundress, not all frilly and floral like the ones women wore in these parts, but severe in its shape.
All straight lines and business.
Even with the baby, she weighed nothing, and he cradled her close, mumbling something he hoped was comforting during the short walk to his truck.
In the fading sun, he noticed from the long silky waves kissing his left cheek that her hair wasn’t mere red, but fire streaked with a hundred shades of blond. He’d never been big on hair colors beyond the basics, but even he could see that this gal’s head was something special.
And her smell. Her perfume was a spicy, musky, sexy-hot Oriental blend that somehow matched the jade he remembered hiding behind her now closed eyes.
“You’re gonna be just fine,” he murmured, stopping just short of instinctively kissing her forehead. Geez, he’d been in law for twelve years and had yet to kiss one of the Jane Q. Publics he’d sworn to protect. Further proof that he shouldn’t have come within three counties of Kelsey and Owen’s big day.
His attraction meter was all screwed up.
At the back of his truck, Noah placed his good knee on the floorboard, then eased her inside, covering her with a blanket she pushed away.
“Hot—so hot,” she said, voice scratchy and weak.
“Okay, um, let me see what I can do.”
He’d just hopped down, planning to close up the truck and turn on the A/C, when she reached for him, locking her fingers around his black leather belt.
“Please, stay,” she said, eyes welling with tears just before she squeezed them shut and started funny panting breathing that felt way too intimate for him to witness. “I—I thought I could do this alone.” She grimaced. “I do everything alone, but—” There she went with that breathing again. “Oh God, it hurts. Oh God, what am I going to do?” Somewhere in all of that, she’d raised her knees, then spread her legs wide, furrowing her lovely forehead with a grimace of what he could only guess was mind-numbing pain.
He matched that with his own case of vertigo.
Good Lord, she wasn’t gonna have this baby right now, was she? He’d seen training videos on this sort of thing, but…
Suck it up, bud. This ain’t no drill and you ain’t no Boy Scout.
Noah looked over his shoulder for the ambulance, but no such luck.
“Okay, um, can you hold it?” he asked, taking yet another look.
“Nooooooo!” Thrashing her head from side to side, she emitted an otherworldly scream that startled a flock of crows into noisy flight.
Noah rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath before assuming his usual professionalism. This was no longer about Kelsey, or his own fears, this was about saving this woman’s life, and the life of her child.
“What’s your name?” he said, knowing they were about to get real close—real fast.
“Cassandra—Cassie.”
“Nice to meet you, Cassie. I’m Noah.”
Though her beautiful face was all scrunched with pain, she nodded before cutting loose with another of her banshee wails. “It huuuuurts!” she cried.
“I know,” he said, patting her knee. “I mean, obviously, I don’t know, but—oh, man…”
I’ve gotta pull myself together.
Latex gloves. Definitely need those. Too bad the box of them was in the back of his county-issued Blazer.
Okay, so he had to somehow wash his hands. He was gonna need those towels, too.
Shooting into action, he grabbed the box with the towels, unwrapped it, then, stopping just short of pulling them out, he ran back around to the rear of the truck to grab one of the gallons of fresh water he kept on hand for busted radiators or the occasional dehydrated lost hiker.
In the first-aid kit, he fished out a couple of prepackaged alcohol wipes, ripped one open with his teeth and scrubbed his hands as best as he could. Next, he poured water over them before giving his hands another good scrub.
Okay, now he was in business.
Hands clean, he grabbed a couple of the new-smelling towels and spread them under Cass’s backside.
Another of her wails hurried him along.
She was now clutching at her dress, dragging it up lean, tan legs he had no business looking at, but had to. “My panties,” she said. “T-they have to come off.”
He nodded, then reached for the first-aid kit’s scissors, and clinically snipped at robin’s-egg-blue silk.
Oh boy—or girl!
There—right there between her legs was the crown of her baby’s head!
“Okay, Cass, you’re further into this than I thought.” Grabbing her hand, he said, “Squeeze, darlin’. Squeeze me as hard as you can and push!”
Eyes wild, she did.
“Again,” he said, keeping one eye on her and the other on the baby. Instinctively, he pushed her legs wider. “Push, Cassie, push. Come on, you can do it.”
“Easy for you to say!” she snapped.
“That’s right, darlin’—give me hell. Come on, I can take it! Give all men hell—especially your husband!”
“I—I’m—arggghhh—not married! I d-don’t need a man!”
“Great, then I’ll head back to town and grab a beer.”
“No,” she said through another grimace. “I do need you.”
“Good,” he said, eyes welling at the miracle unfolding before him. “Because a truckload of TNT couldn’t tear me away from this spot. Push, darlin’, push!”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder!”
“I am—arrrrgggghhhhh!”
“Oh my God, I’m holding its head. Just a little more. A little mooorre. Got it. Oh my God,” he said laughing through his tears. “It’s a girl. You had a beautiful baby girl, Cassie!”
With his pinkie finger, he cleared the baby’s mouth, and when the tiny, redheaded dream cut loose with a wail every bit as powerful as one of her momma’s, with his spare hand he managed to spread a towel across Cassie’s tummy before presenting her with her child—cord and all, which he planned on letting the paramedics cut.
Cassie’s fiery hair hung in damp tendrils, and her complexion was misty with sweat, but never, in all of his days, had Noah seen a more beautiful, downright mesmerizing sight.
Then that gorgeous face of hers once again scrunched with pain.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “The baby’s here.”
“A-another one,” she said with more pants. “Twins. Oh God, help me, please help me,” she said, writhing her head from side to side, still clutching her baby girl. “Noooo, something’s not right. It hurts—oh, it hurts!”
Heart hammering, Noah looked between her legs and not since seven years earlier on the night of that accident had he experienced such terror. Instead of a head, he saw a toe.
Sweet, merciful Heaven, why?
Okay, Noah…think.
Growing up in rural Arkansas, he had a lot of friends who’d lived on farms. He’d seen breech births with cattle—even a horse, but…
Okay, only difference is size. Sort of.
“It hurts, Noah! It hurts…” Cassie’s agonized cries turned to racking sobs.
No. Not again.
Please Lord, don’t let this be another night like that one on Blue Springs Road. I couldn’t bear it. It wouldn’t be right. That woman hadn’t deserved to die, and You wouldn’t let me save her. Just like Cassie, she’d had kids—a family.
Sure, Noah’s friends had told him a hundred times over he hadn’t been to blame, but by God, he’d been the one on the scene and he’d been the one holding her when she’d asked him to tell her husband and kids she loved them.
Too many times in his life, he’d been unable to fix things. It happened over and over in his job, then there’d been the messy breakup with Kelsey. Way before that, his folks’ crappy marriage—or for that matter, his own. Not a damned one of those situations had he been able to fix. But this one…
With a light shake of his head, he told himself no. This wasn’t going to be a replay of that night.
No one was taking this woman and her babies from him—not even almighty God Himself!
Fumbling across Cassie’s still rounded belly, he felt the baby’s head, and said, “I’m not gonna lie. This is probably—well, hell, there’s no probably about it—this is gonna hurt real bad, and I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.”
Teeth gritted, she nodded, but her fire was gone, and her cries had faded to whimpers.
“Stay with me,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut, frantically trying to remember that cheesy emergency labor video he and the guys laughingly winced their way through. Teeth gritted, he said a hundred more prayers in his head, then felt for one tiny foot, then the other, and gently tugged the baby by his or her ankles.
“Please don’t let my baby die!”
“Nobody’s dying here,” he said. “Push!”
“I can’t! I’m so tired.”
“Push, dammit! Nobody’s dying on my watch! I’m responsible for you—all of you. You hear me? Nobody’s dyin’ today! Now push!”
“I caaaaaan’t!”
“That’s it! I’ve got this little princess’s behind. Come on, Cassie, give me all you got!”
Thankfully, she did, and he rotated the infant’s trunk to get one arm. Another slight rotation earned him another.
“Come on, Cass! You’re almost there!”
“Arrrrggghhh!” In one last superhuman effort, she pushed and the baby’s head popped out.
Noah trembled so hard he feared dropping the second baby girl, but he held tight, reaching for another towel that he could hardly see through his tears.
He cleared the baby’s mouth, and when she cried, he cried and started shaking all the harder. “You had another girl, darlin’. You did it.”
Clutching both babies close, Cassie cast him a luminous smile before saying, “We did it. Thank you.”
Bracing himself against the truck’s frame, Noah shook his head and smiled.
Hot damn, what a rush.

Chapter Two
Cassie Tremont opened her eyes just enough to see hazy morning sun silhouetting one of the most handsome, kind and concerned faces she’d ever seen.
Noah.
Her savior. Her babies’ savior.
Fast asleep in an orange vinyl guest chair he’d pulled to the head of her hospital bed. If only she’d come across a guy like him before meeting Tom, maybe her life would’ve turned out differently.
Maybe she’d even still believe in happy endings, because she wouldn’t have had her dreams twice shattered by grim-faced company representatives standing at her front door. What were the odds of first, Tri-Comm reps telling her when she’d been just eight years old that her father had died of a heart attack while on the corporate jet. Sorry. We’re so sorry. Then later, years later, Jubilee Cruise Lines reps telling her that not only had Tom, her husband, died, but he’d died on holiday with another woman. A woman who’d claimed to also be his wife! We can only imagine your pain.
Tom hadn’t even been in the right country. He’d told Cassie he was on a business trip to London. In reality, he’d been on a Caribbean cruise when he and his legal wife—a woman named Felicity—died in a freak diving accident.
The day Cassie had found out she was carrying twins, she’d been so happy—they’d been so happy. Tom had held her hand during the ultrasound, kissing the tips of her fingers, telling her she looked beautiful and was going to make the best mom in the world. His loving touch combined with the fierce love she already felt for the tiny miracles growing deep within her had made her teary with joy.
Even though the doctor warned Cassie that multiple births meant multiple risks, she hadn’t cared. The only thing that mattered was that she and her beloved husband would soon have not one baby to love, but two.
She’d been twelve weeks pregnant when her world crashed around her. Tom’s death had been hard enough to take, but hearing that their whole life together had been a lie—that was almost worse than knowing he was dead.
She’d been with Tom since college.
The night of her twenty-first birthday, when she’d taken legal possession of the millions her father left, Tom had proposed. She’d been so dewy-eyed with adoration for him, she’d taken his words of love at face value.
After all, why would he say he loved her if he didn’t?
Little did she know, he’d been living a double life.
With another wife.
Another house, car and cat.
How many times had she wished Tom were still alive? Not so she could hug him or kiss him or tell him how much she missed him, but so she could have the satisfaction of telling him how much she hated his guts!
Since the day she’d discovered the depth of Tom’s deceptions, Cassie had immersed herself in the everyday running of her interior design firm. Her best friend and co-worker, Chloe, was constantly telling her to slow down, reminding her that she didn’t have to work.
To which Cassie replied, no, she didn’t have to work. She needed to. For if she slowed for even one second to think about all the laughs Tom and this Felicity woman must’ve had at her expense, she’d surely go stark raving mad!
For five idyllic years, she’d played house, while all that time Tom had been playing her for a fool!
Looking back on the past months, and especially the past week, from the perspective one gained after an uncomfortably close brush with death, Cassie guessed she should’ve paid closer attention when her doctor told her not to go on a business trip so close to her due date.
But since Tom’s death, Cassie prided herself on controlling everything.
Guess in this case, Mother Nature got the last laugh.
Eyeing Noah again, she yawned. Not because anything about him was remotely boring, but because something about just having him here with her in the room filled her with an uncharacteristic feeling of peace. One she hadn’t felt since the last time she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
NOAH LOOKED UP when the door to Cassie’s room burst open and a nurse wheeled in a baby on a cart.
“How’s our mommy doing?” the heavyset woman asked.
“Still pretty out of it.”
“That’s to be expected,” she said, making a clucking sound that matched the baby ducks splashed all over her yellow surgical scrubs. “She had a rough delivery, but she’ll be fine now.” Leaving the clear plastic bassinet with the baby near the sink, the nurse washed her hands before bustling over to the bed. “Ms. Tremont, I know you’re still tired, but your babies need breakfast. We’ve been in touch with your OB/GYN in Little Rock and she said you’re planning on breastfeeding?”
Eyes closed, the weary patient nodded.
“Okay, then, I’m sorry to do this, but you have to wake up.” The nurse lightly shook Cassie’s shoulder.
“B-but…” Cass licked her dry lips, and Noah reached for the tube of Chapstick he’d bought her in the hospital gift shop, gliding some on. With the tip of her tongue, she traced his balmy line.
Noah swallowed hard.
How come Cassie merely licking her lips had resulted in immediate below-the-belt action?
Sleep. Had to be lack of sleep.
Only possible explanation.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he finally found the air to say, holding her left hand while speaking into her thick hair. “Time to rise and shine.”
“Do I have to?”
The nurse laughed. “You can’t imagine how many of my new mommies say the same thing. Come on now, Ms. Tremont, time to wake up. Your adorable babies need their first meal.”
“Maybe Cass needs something to eat?” Noah suggested.
“She’ll be fine,” the nurse said with a sharp, authoritarian tone.
Well, excuse me for asking. Checking that his tiny princess hadn’t been frightened by the nurse’s bark, Noah eyed his baby girl. Lucky for Nurse Nasty she contentedly continued her nap.
“Most of our new mommies are a little out of it, but Ms. Tremont, here, had an extra tough time.”
“Tell me about it,” he said under his breath.
“You the father?”
“No, I—”
“Well, then, you’ll have to leave. Patient privacy and all.”
“I don’t think so.” With me gone, who’s gonna keep an eye on you, Nurse Nasty?
“Please, sir. Ms. Tremont really does need to get on with the business of mothering. While nursing is a natural, beautiful part of that process, the patient will undoubtedly want her privacy.” The nurse handed a pink bundle to Cass.
Nursing? Noah scratched his head. What was this woman talking about? Cassie couldn’t even get out of bed. How was she going to—oh.
That kind of nursing.
The kind with babies and breasts.
I’m outta here!
Noah leaned over the bed rail to kiss Cassie’s forehead, then the baby’s. “I’ll uh, be around,” he said, giving Cassie’s hand a final squeeze. “Just holler if you need me. Not that you will. I mean, I’m sure you can handle this on your own. But you know how—”
“I know,” she said, wide eyes glowing from the intensity of her adorable sleepy grin. “Go on. Get. I’ll be fine.”
Sure, she’d be fine, but what about him?
Those spur-of-the-moment kisses had been a mistake!
Cassie’s grin had him all hot and cold and maybe even dizzy. And all of that was before he’d made the mistake of kissing her baby! The kid smelled confusing. Like sweetness and innocence and baby lotion and shampoo. But then underlying that was Cass’s exotic oriental perfume—that spicy, musky, sexy, sultry storm of mixed signals designed for no good reason other than landing him in serious bachelor trouble.
Okay, deep breaths.
There’s nothing to be alarmed about.
He hadn’t slept in what? Like eighteen hours? Surely lack of sleep was bound to mess with a guy’s head?
“Noah?” Cassie asked, voice ripe with concern. “Are you okay? All of a sudden you don’t look so good.”
“Sure…I’m, ah, great.” He swallowed hard, ran his fingers around the already loose collar of the dress shirt he had yet to change out of. “Probably just need some shut-eye.”
“Of course, you do. Poor thing, you’ve been here all night. I’m fine. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”
Great idea!
While Cassie was still recovering, honor would never permit him to leave her of his own free will. But since Nurse Nasty was still giving him the evil eye, and Cassie had told him to leave, and not to mention the fact that she was about to bare her breasts, Noah made a final round of kisses, then high-tailed it out of the room.
“THAT’S QUITE A MAN you’ve got there,” the nurse said to Cassie while making a note on her chart.
“Thanks, but Noah’s not my man. He’s my guardian angel.”
And speaking of angels…
The sleeping angel Cassie held in her arms took her breath away. Had there ever been a more beautiful sight?
Apple-blossom-pink cheeks and a tiny scrunched nose. And that shock of red curls! Guess those old wives’ tales about heartburn had been right!
Emotion swelling, Cassie blinked back tears.
For the miracle she now held in her arms, every bit of the anguish she’d been through over Tom had been worth it.
Not only was she alive, but she was holding her very much alive baby in her arms, with another perfect baby waiting in line for her breakfast, as well.
And just think, she had this double blessing and her own life all because of Noah. Though the actual delivery of her babies had become a blur, he was the one thing about her ordeal that she’d never forget. His soothing voice, and the way he’d held her hand, urging her not to give up.
Starting at the still-warm spot on her forehead where Noah had planted his tender kiss, a quiet contentment crept through her.
“Given any thought to names?” the nurse asked, reading the card on a pink carnation bouquet.
Of course. Since Tom’s death, Cassie planned her days down to the minute, and since the end of her second trimester she’d known the girls would be named Rachel, after her mother, and Ruth, after her grandmother, but now…
Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Was this baby born first?” Cassie asked, gazing at the infant in her arms.
The nurse nodded, reading the cards on lilac and then peach roses.
“Then she’ll be Noelle.”
The nosy nurse smiled and nodded approvingly. “And her sister?”
“I don’t know.” Cassie grinned, skimming her finger along Noelle’s tiny strawberry-blond brows. “I think I’ll just dream up something when I meet her.”
Noelle woke with a start, scrunching her mouth into a full-blown squall.
“I take it that means she’s hungry?”
The nurse nodded before talking Cassie through the breastfeeding procedure.
Far from what the many books Cassie had read on nursing had told her, there was nothing simple about it! Still, after a few rough starts, by the time the nurse brought in Cassie’s second baby, then left mother and daughter on their own, Cassie felt like an old pro.
Now that her latest diner had eaten her fill, then promptly fallen back to sleep, Cassie took her time memorizing her dear face—not hard since she looked exactly like her sister!
“What should I name you?” she asked, smoothing her hand over her second daughter’s silken crown.
A knock sounded on the door, and Cassie looked up. “Come in.”
“Hey. How’s it going? Everyone decent?” Noah popped his head around the edge of the oversized door.
“Hi,” Cassie said, unprepared for the rush of warmth flooding her system on hearing his voice—let alone meeting his warm, brown gaze and easy smile.
“Hi.” The paper rustling of shopping bags bursting with gifts preceded him into the room.
“What in the world?”
He dumped his purchases on the room’s spare bed. “Thought you and the girls might need a few things.” Out came matching Malibu Barbies and tea sets and stuffed bunnies and ducks and rattles and teething key rings and pink, purple and yellow dresses with ruffled skirts bigger than both babies combined.
“A few things?” Cassie laughed. “Noah, from the looks of it you’ve got the girls set up with enough gear to last them from infancy straight through to college.”
Drawing the guest chair away from the window to the head of her bed, he shrugged. “I figure what can it hurt to plan ahead?”
While he sat, she grinned. “Tea sets, Noah? They can’t even sit up.”
“What can I say? They were on sale.”
His easy smile stole any further protests she might have launched. And then his expression turned strangely serious. Leaning forward, he reached for her closest hand, enfolding it in his.
She swallowed hard, willing her pulse to slow.
“I’m so glad you and the girls are out of the woods,” he said. “I know all of these presents must seem like overkill, but I’m just so damned relieved.”
“Me, too,” Cassie said, licking her lips. “I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”
“Your smile is all the thanks I need.”
“Yes, well…” Suddenly shy, and unsure of the complex emotions that made the back of her throat ache, Cassie gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing him. “That might be good enough for you,” she finally managed to say. “But I’m going to think of something more grand.”
He cleared his throat. “Like naming Noelle for me wasn’t already a pretty grand gesture? They put her name on a card in front of her bassinet.”
“Who said she was named for you?” Cassie teased with a sassy wink.
“Ouch.” Noah clutched his chest. “Talk about zinging an arrow straight through my heart.”
After they’d shared another laugh, he reverently feathered his fingers across her baby’s curls, reminding Cassie of how good that same touch had felt to her yesterday afternoon in the back of his SUV.
Squeezing her eyes briefly shut, she returned to that moment. To the wonder of being cocooned in Noah’s strength. Even though today his comforting hand touched her baby, his kindness still managed to touch her soul.
“So?” he asked. “You come up with a name for this one yet?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm…how about Joelle?”
Nose wrinkled, Cassie said, “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“No rhymes?”
She shrugged. “Rhymes are okay, but I thought keeping the N-theme might be nice.”
“Okay…N, N—Nicky, Nancy, Nathan—”
“Oh, now, Nathan. That’d be real cute embroidered on her ballerina costumes.”
He made a face. “Hey, at least I’m trying. I don’t hear any brilliant ideas coming from you.”
“True.” Drawing in her lower lip, she said, “Nobody told me having babies turns your mind to mush.”
“Give me that kid,” he said, reaching for the baby girl, then holding her close. She looked so tiny in his arms. So safe.
Noah was a big man.
Like Cassie’s father had been.
Growing up, Cassie had worshipped him. When her mother died of cancer before Cass had been barely old enough to talk, her father had meant the world to her. He’d been someone big and strong to protect her from the rough and tumble world. In Tom, she thought she’d found someone much like her own powerful dad. Even in school, her then future husband had possessed a magnetic presence. Just looking at him, she’d known he was destined for greatness. Sure enough, right out of law school, he’d landed a job with a top Little Rock firm. Everyone loved him—his partners, his clients, and his two wives.
One “wife” might still be alive—but Cassie’s love wasn’t. It had long since turned to hate, and even thinking Tom’s name turned her blood cold.
Having been raised by her overprotective Aunt Olivia, Cassie had always thought if only she’d had her mom and dad with her for a little while longer, her life would have turned out differently. Maybe then she wouldn’t have run straight into Tom’s scheming arms.
Trouble was, she had. And looking back on it, for all the wrong reasons. Fear over not being able to make her own way in the world. Reluctance to be alone. Being so eager to start her own family, that she’d never even considered the fact that the man she thought she loved had been a con artist extraordinaire.
All of those reasons combined had since taught her a valuable life lesson. That fairy tales were better left to the experts at Disney. For in real life, when it came to relationships with men, there was no such thing as happily ever after.
Now, relationships with babies on the other hand…
“She sure smells good,” Noah said, nuzzling the baby’s downy soft hair. “How ’bout giving her a flower name? Petunia or Hydrangea?”
Cassie made a face. “Still not quite right.”
He shifted the infant from where she’d rested her tiny head against his chest to cradle her in his arms. Putting the tip of his long index finger to her nose, he said, “You gave me one heck of a scare, young lady.”
“Me, too,” Cassie said, queasy at just the memory of how dicey her second child’s birth had been.
“Now, I look at you,” Noah said to the tiny infant, “and all I see is hope. Hope for a very bright future filled with giggles and sunshine and water balloon fights and puppies and—”
“Hope,” Cassie said. “That’s it.”
“What?”
“Her name. I’ll call her Hope.”
“Wait a minute, don’t I get a say in this? After all, I was the one who ushered her into this world.”
“True. So, if you don’t like that, then what do you suggest?”
“There’s always Joelle.”
“Noah!”
“Don’t get your diaper in a wad,” he said, his wide smile aimed straight for her heart. “I was just razzing you. Hope sounds perfect.”
Perfect… Cassie thought with a secret smile.
Just like my new friend, Noah, who not only gave both of my daughters their lives, but names.
“PSST. ARE YOU AWAKE?”
Cassie cracked open one eye to see a model-perfect, blue-eyed brunette staring at her—a very pregnant perfect brunette. When Cassie opened both eyes, the woman held out her hand for her to shake.
“Oh, good,” she said. “You are awake. I’m Tiffany. Number Three in Noah’s Lonely Hearts Support Group, formed way back in the early nineties. When Noah’s ex-wife, Darla, decided marriage bored her, Noah decided he felt the same. Since then, we’ve grown considerably. The woman we all thought he’d marry, Kelsey, is Number Seventeen. He’s dated casually after her—no one significant enough for a number, but you, my dear, show promise, and as such, we’ve already assigned you Number Eighteen. Since I’m on maternity leave from Olivetti’s—that’s River-dale’s best dress shop if you happen to need anything while you’re in town—I’ve been nominated by the group to welcome you.”
Cassie’s look must have been blank, because unfortunately the woman continued while her crisp, outdoorsy perfume filled the room.
“No need to look shocked,” she said, “like your babies have been bugged or anything. We have inside sources all over town. At the hospital, Noah dated Nurse Helen—she’s Number Eleven amongst his victims.”
“His victims?”
“Yeah, you know, his Victims in Love—or VILs as we affectionately call ’em. Here,” Tiffany said, reaching into a quilted blue toile purse to pull out a gold foil box. “The girls and I bought you a combination Congratulations on Your Babies/Welcome to the Group gift. I know this must seem a bit premature, offering you membership when you and Noah have only just met, but after what happened at Kelsey’s wedding, we figure Noah’s gotta be on the verge of a total meltdown. Now, the women around here are equipped to handle his many bad boy charms, but we figure you being a city girl, may need a few pointers to come out of this on the right side of sanity.”
“Um, thank you,” Cassie said, taking the box of Godiva chocolates. “I think.”
“Oh dear,” Tiffany said with a pretty frown.
“What?” The severity of her tone tempted Cassie to check herself for broken bones.
“Your expression—sour as a lemon drop. You’re not already hooked on Noah, are you?”
“I don’t think so. I barely know the man.”
Sagely nodding, Tiffany said, “That’s what we all said. Every last one of us believed we’d be the ones to finally hog-tie him, but he’s wily when it comes to commitment. Darla hurt him bad, and I’m warning you, you so much as breathe the word and he’ll bolt. It’s our belief that Kelsey had him so long because we’d precounseled her on this fact. Since she already had that heads-up, she knew better than to ever even ask about taking their relationship to that magical, mystical place we group members call marriage. But then she just had to go and give him that ultimatum, and bam—faster than that tornado we had back in 1998, he was gone.”
Interesting…
The supposedly heartbroken woman’s perfectly manicured red nails were attached to long, tanned fingers sporting an array of not-too-shabby rings. One in particular on her left hand was at least a two-carat square-cut diamond solitaire with matching bejeweled wedding band.
Mind you, Cassie was no expert, but those looked like some serious love baubles to her! This in mind, she blurted, “But you’re married now, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm…” A look of utter bliss drifted over Tiffany’s classically beautiful features as she patted her bulging tummy through her cornflower-blue linen dress. “Noah’s ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech really did a number on my self-esteem. I thought we’d been in love, when all along it turns out I was the only participant in the love part of our relationship—if you could even call it that. Anyway, Denton Harwood, school math club president and heir to the First National Bank of Riverdale, took pity on me and we’ve been together ever since.”
“Congratulations,” Cassie said, fighting back a smile. Was this woman and all seventeen of her friends nuts?
“Thank you. I’ve never been happier, which is why I’m giving you a friendly warning to be careful.”
“Oh, I will,” Cassie said, more to get this nutcase out of her room than because of any fears she had of Noah breaking her heart.
In the first place, after what Tom had done to her, she no longer had a heart when it came to men. And in the second, no matter how handsome he was, or kind and considerate, Noah was only her friend. Period.
“Good,” Tiffany said, patting Cassie’s leg through two layers of cotton blankets. “Deep down, Noah’s a great guy, but he has definite commitment issues. With you just having had twins and all, we would hate to see you caught off guard when you become his eighteenth VIL.”
When Tiffany and her perfume had safely left the room, Cassie rolled her eyes.
The woman might think she knew Noah, but obviously she didn’t. Because if there was one thing Cassie had learned during her brief stay in Riverdale, it was the fact that Sheriff Noah Wheeler was as committed as men come!
“DON’T YOU EVER go to work?”
Late that afternoon, Noah glanced up from the bass fishing magazine he’d been reading in Cassie’s guest chair—the one he’d once again had to move from its usual spot by the window to the head of her bed where he could keep a closer eye on her. “You’re awake.”
“And you’re still here.” Her sleepy grin took the sting out of her words.
“That a problem?” he asked, chest tight with pride—not to mention relief—over the fact that his patient looked healthier by the hour.
“No…” She looked down, pinch-pleating the white sheet. “It’s just that we hardly know each other, yet you’ve moved in. I’ve gotten used to being on my own.”
“That my cue to beat it?” Damn if that sleep-sexy grin of hers wasn’t already revving his engine.
She laughed. “Not at all. You’ve been a godsend in so many ways, but the nurse said we’ll probably be going home tomorrow, so I figure you’ll be glad to get back to your normal schedule.”
“I suppose. But it’s not like police work in these parts is all that exciting. I get more of a rush out of helping someone with a flat tire than writing tickets.”
“Sure. You would.”
“What’s that mean?”
“That you’re a nice guy.”
Noah frowned.
When it came to women, nice guys always finished last. His busted relationship with Kelsey proved it!
Still, since he wasn’t even remotely attracted to Cass, he supposed in her case friendship was a good thing. A safe thing. “So,” he said, “when do you think they’ll spring you? I’ll need to pick up car seats and fasten them into my truck.”
“Why?”
Leaning forward, he said, “Well, it’s a sure bet the four of us aren’t going to fit in your car—not to mention the fact that no matter how healthy you look, it’s a long trip to Little Rock. You’re still on the mend. No way you should be driving.”
“Um—” she drew in her lower lip “—not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but early this morning I contacted a limo service in Fayetteville. They’ll arrive tomorrow at noon. They’ll also handle the transport of my car.”
“Oh.” Like a deflated balloon, he sagged against the chair. So, she’d hired a limo? Big deal. What did he care? This was a good thing, right?
Ha!
Then how come he felt like he’d just gotten dumped?
Gaze all wide-eyed and innocent, she said, “You look upset.”
He shook his head.
“Noah? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Her gentle tone ripped right through him.
“You wanna know what’s wrong, Cass? I’ll tell you. It’s customary for the father to drive his kids home—not some hired limo service.”
“But you’re not Noelle and Hope’s father.”
He hardened his jaw.
“You seem surprised, as if this is news to you.”
“Look,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. “You and those girls very nearly died out on that highway. Once I happened upon you, and saw what kind of trouble you were in, you—all of you—became my responsibility. A responsibility I don’t take lightly.”
She reached for his hand, and gave him a surprisingly strong squeeze. “Never will you know the depth of my gratitude. Never will I be able to repay you for helping me like you did. And I suppose that kind of intensity breeds a strange kind of instant intimacy, but the crisis is over, Noah. I’m fine. The girls are fine. And tomorrow we’re going home.”
“I’m glad. Truly I am. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. You know, complete the circle where you’re concerned.”
When she released his hand to tuck luxurious red waves behind her ears, unexpected—unwanted—loneliness invaded his gut. Kelsey had left him, and that’d felt bad. Now, Cassie was leaving, too? That felt even worse. No. He didn’t want her letting go of his hand any more than he wanted her and her babies going home.
Good Lord, someone call 9-1-1!
A bachelor afraid of spending a little quality time on his own was not a good thing.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said, sending him deeper into emotional and now physical turmoil by licking her full lips. Down, boy, down. “Especially since it’s not likely we’ll ever see each other again.”
“Sure.”
Wait a minute…She was right!
What could his bachelorhood status possibly have to fear from Cassie since after today he’d never see her again? Finally. A voice of reason—welcome, even if it wasn’t in his own head!
Yeah, but tell me, Einstein—what’s her leaving going to do for your loneliness?
Noah swallowed hard.
That inner voice was nothing more than lingering shame over Kelsey having dumped him. Oh—not to mention sleep deprivation. Obviously, he must still be a little weak. Easily enough remedied next weekend when he’d have a whole Saturday of shut-eye followed by a Sunday all-male barbecue. Yep, get all the guys out on his just-finished backyard deck, all gathered around his brand spanking new gas grill for some ribs, burgers and beers.
Yep, hot damn, life just didn’t get any better than that. Just as soon as he got Cassie and company home, he’d start making calls.
So as not to appear too eager to get her out of town, he said, “I remember you saying you’re not married, so when you get home, who’s going to watch out for you? Mom, dad? Friends? Ex?”
Had he only imagined the catch in her breath as she shook her head? “I’m the only family my girls will ever need. I’ll be a mother to tuck them in at night. A father to play baseball, and a favorite aunt to take them to the zoo. And when they’re teenagers, needing a close friend to confide in, I’ll be that, too.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your lives mapped out.”
“I do. And if you were an explorer and happened upon us, and wanted to give our happy little family a name, wanna guess what it would be?”
“Wouldn’t have a clue.”
“No Man’s Land.”
Had Noah been fully awake, Cass’s declaration would have sounded like heaven to his female-wary ears. But in his obviously still sleep-weakened condition, her blunt speech sounded defensive.
Someone had hurt her. Bad. Question was, what—if anything—was he going to do about it?

Chapter Three
After Noah left, if Cassie hadn’t already been in bed, she’d have collapsed. What had gotten into her to say such an outrageous thing?
Maybe the quiet thrill of his gentle kiss? The security of having his hand around yours? Seeing your tiny baby sheltered in his big, strong arms, and wondering how much richer your daughters’ lives would be than your own if, unlike you, they grew up with a father?
Cassie frowned.
That was ridiculous!
The last thing her girls needed was a daddy. Besides, Cassie was no more interested in Noah than he was in her.
So why did she get all defensive on him?
Tom. That’s why.
Because his lies had forever and irrevocably changed her for the worse. More than ever she hated her former husband for instilling in her an innate need for constructing emotional walls.
Where her heart had once contained nothing but trusting naiveté, now, she knew she’d never trust another man again—not of choice, but necessity.
On her own, she’d barely survived Tom’s deception, but now, she had the girls’ well-being to consider.
Noah seemed like a nice guy. Yet Tiffany claimed he ran when the word commitment was so much as breathed around him. So why was he still hanging around?
Baffling. The man’s actions were utterly baffling.
Putting her hands to her temples, Cassie tried massaging answers from her aching head.
Why was this virtual stranger being so darned nice?
What did he want from her?
Even more disturbing, what did she want from him?
She would have pondered all of the questions further, but ever since delivering the babies, her mind and body had had a tough time coordinating schedules.
This time, her body won, and sleep stealthily took hold.
“THAT’S OKAY, Doctor,” Cassie said early the next morning after he’d lightly shaken her awake from her latest nap. “I understand about the girls needing to stay on.” What she didn’t understand was why no one in this hospital wanted her to sleep!
“All right, then…” said the pediatrician caring for the twins. His black toupee hung a bit askew from the gray tufts peeking around the sides, but his friendly smile lit the blue eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “If our craft fair makes it tough for you to find a room, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” Cassie said, “but I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”
Hugging the babies’ charts, Doctor Joe, as he liked to be called, paused on his way out the door to give her a thumbs-up. “Young lady, judging by the spunk it must’ve taken to bring those two girls into this world, I’m sure you will.”
Famous last words.
Ever since the doctor had informed Cassie that she was free to leave the hospital, but her babies weren’t, due to a mild case of jaundice, she’d been dialing her way through Riverdale’s meager yellow pages, trying to find a hotel, motel or even a houseboat for rent.
Unfortunately, every single establishment she’d called had had only one thing to say. “Sorry, but because of the craft fair, we’ve been booked for months.”
Even down in Little Rock, she’d heard of the twice annual northwest Arkansas event. She even had friends who regularly made the trip for handwoven baskets, hand-strung beaded necklaces and funnel cakes. What Cassie hadn’t known was just what a big deal the craft extravaganza actually was.
Oh sure, this early in the week, she could’ve gotten a room in Fayetteville, Springdale or Rogers, but for only two nights. What if the babies ended up staying longer? And how was she going to manage the hundred and twenty mile round trip commute?
Just as she’d hung up on Doxy’s Motor court after yet another apology, a knock sounded on her door.
“Come in,” she sang out, glad she’d at least managed to put on real clothes in between calls.
At least two dozen yellow roses arranged in an elegant crystal vase walked in attached to long, strong masculine legs encased in faded jeans. “Good morning,” said a familiar voice that sounded an awful lot like Noah from behind the fragrant blooms. “I brought you a going-away gift.”
“If only I had somewhere to go,” she said, trying not to pout. “I don’t suppose you have any connections with the local inns?”
“What’s this? Miss Independence is actually asking for help?” Noah set the flowers and his keys on the bedside table, then lowered himself into his usual chair. The red Razorback T-shirt he’d changed into did the most amazing tricks with his warm brown eyes, and his dark hair looked all spiky and damp from a recent shower.
Cheeks warming at the mere thought of him all rock hard and suds slick, she hastily looked away.
Trying to ignore the heady scent of the roses, not to mention the completely irrational quickening of her pulse, Cassie stuck out her tongue before saying, “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. And might I say you look particularly fetching yourself—all dressed up in your fancy black dress, but with nowhere to go, huh?”
“Thanks again for reminding me.” From her perch on the edge of the bed, she wrinkled her nose. “Guess the nurses told you I get to go home, but Noelle and Hope are staying.”
He nodded. “Nurse Helen said this jaundice thing is fairly common.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” What had been Helen’s support group initiation number? Eleven? “You two getting cozy?”
“Jealous?”
Yes!
No! Of course not!
Seeing how Cassie didn’t even want a man in her life, let alone need one, she wished the buxom nurse all the luck in the world in resnagging the handsome sheriff. After all, Tiffany hadn’t said anything about group members not being able to launch new Noah campaigns.
“I’m not a bit jealous,” she finally said, tucking her long hair firmly behind her ears. “Merely making conversation. Your friend Tiffany stopped by yesterday, and told me all about the support group they formed to get over you—you big stud.”
When she winked, Noah looked sharply away.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Even though I barely know you, I can see the man she told me about and you have nothing in common. Those women obviously have too much time on their hands. Anyway, back to my lodging issue—know anyplace that might have a room?” She flashed him a hopeful grin.
“Um, sure.” Though he was mighty pleased to no longer be hearing about that ridiculous support group, Noah cringed inwardly when another of his hot-cold dizzy spells accompanied her latest innocent question. Damn those gorgeous eyes of hers. And she could knock off the grinning, too. Unfortunately, yes, he did know of a place to stay. Trouble was, inviting her to use it violated every rule he’d spent years perfecting.
“Well? The name?”
“You probably wouldn’t want to stay there. It’s, um, pretty messy.”
“So? I’ll clean it.”
“No, I mean really messy. Downright unsanitary. You might, ah, catch something.”
Fixing him with a laser beam stare, she narrowed her gaze. “Why do I get the feeling wherever this place is, you don’t want me there?”
“That’s crazy.” He gulped.
How had Cassie known exactly what he was thinking? Did she also know how rotten he felt about those thoughts? After all, he’d promised to protect her until she was released from the hospital. And since she was being released, then technically, he was released from all obligation, right? So why did he still feel like a schmuck for not wanting her in his home?
Probably because you do want her? All of her lush little curves and big, green Saturday-morning-sex eyes and that damned adorable grin that keeps turning you all hot and dizzy.
Solely to prove that none of that was even remotely true—well, granted some of it was, but certainly not the part about him wanting her—Noah blurted, “Look, I’ve got a guest room. You want it, or not?”
“Yes, please. If it’s not too much trouble.” She grinned, and in the heart of his bachelor’s gut, he died ten thousand hot and dizzy deaths.
“Nope. No trouble at all.” What was wrong with him? He’d gone without sleep before, but never had it affected him like this.
Could he have contracted some swift-acting deadly disease? Yeah. That was it. Had to be. No other way would he be this upset over a little bitty snippet of a woman with a pretty smile and even prettier face wreathed in the most prettiest red hair.
Argh! Most prettiest? Whatever sickness he had, looked like it was growing more serious by the second!
“Oh, Noah, thank you!” She leaned entirely too close, grazing her full breasts against his chest while wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she finished him off with an all-too-innocent kiss to his cheek. His cheek! After the anguish her eyes and that grin of hers had put him through, at the very least he deserved a taste of those ripe lips—not to mention a taste of that naughty darting tongue! Her flaming, kiss-shaped brand still burning his left cheek, she said, “You’re the best friend a girl could ever have.”
Friend?
Damn. But then wait—where he and Cassie were concerned, friendship was a good thing. It proved he had a virus rather than the hots for her.
“Um, thanks,” he said, “Coming from you, Cass, I’ll take that as a compliment. Do you mind if I call you Cass?”
She beamed and shook her head. He grew warm.
Dizzy.
I have to get out of here. Now!
Because he wasn’t feeling sick, but attracted. And proud and fiercely protective. And he’d had lots of friends in his life, but none of them he’d wanted to draw back into his arms and kiss square on her soft, full lips!
“Noah? You all right? You’re looking pale again.”
“Sure,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’m fine. Great. Never been better.”
“Good. So? Ready to head over to your place?”
“You know, I just remembered a couple errands I have to run. Let me do those, and I’ll be back.”
“Why don’t I go with you? I’m not due back for a feeding until this afternoon, and after being laid up in here I could sure use a change in scenery.”
Sure. That was all he needed, to be cooped up in the car with her and that Oriental perfume he’d long since established to be trouble. “You know,” he finally said. “I would love to take you, but, um, official sheriff’s code of Pritchett County states that I can’t have any noncriminal civilian passengers in my county-owned vehicle.”
“Oh.”
“You just hang tight. I’ll be back to get you in my SUV around two.”
“Okay. Sure. That’d be great.”
Without so much as a wave, he was gone, leaving Cassie wondering if she’d said something to upset him. But then not five minutes later he was back—wearing an even fiercer frown than the one he’d left with.
“Need these?” she asked, jangling his keys. She held them out, but just when he reached for them, she snatched them back. “Not so fast, mister. You were in an awfully big hurry to get out of here.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So…You’re not still upset over that support group, are you?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Actually, I was about to say no. But since we’re on the subject, let’s get one thing straight.” He’d taken his voice dangerously low. “Those women might say they were the ones who got hurt, but they’d be lying. I did darned good by every one of them. I’d thought we had something special, but then they had to—”
Bring up the word commitment? “What, Noah? What did they do?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, sighed, then grabbed his keys while she was staring into his eyes instead of at his hands. “I’ll be back around two.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Noah claimed a counter stool at Brenda’s Bigger Burger.
Brenda herself, order pad in her plump hand and wearing one of the dozens of psychedelic muumuus she’d picked up on last summer’s trip with her sister to Maui, ambled out from the kitchen. “What can I get for you, Sheriff?”
“Got any new lives stashed back there?”
“Aw, surely things can’t be that bad. After all, talk is you’re a new daddy. Babies always bring a good-some dose of joy.”
“Unless they’re snake babies.” Ernie, Brenda’s cook and husband, peeked through the kitchen’s passthru. “Homer Claussen found a whole nest of copperheads out in his south pasture.”
“You don’t say…” Noah nodded. Experience had long since taught him it was far better to go along with whatever Ernie said. Any contradictions, and the four-foot, ten-inch former pro wrestler tended toward belligerence.
“Yep. Hundreds of ’em wrapped all around his best calf. Nearly squooze him half to death. Homer called the vet, but she said there wasn’t a thing she could do.”
“You’re so making that up,” Brenda said.
“Am not! Call over to Homer’s and see. His wife’ll tell you every word is true.”
See? Noah closed his eyes, wishing Brenda would’ve just gone along with Ernie’s latest outrageous tale. Now, he’d have to listen to this bickering all the way through his lunch. And Lord, how he hated bickering. Brenda and Ernie were just one more shining example of why m-marriage doesn’t work. He had no trouble seeing it. So why did all the other men and women of the world still seem confused?
“Can I get you your usual Coke, double cheeseburger and Tater Tots?” Brenda asked during fight intermission—meaning Ernie must’ve taken a time-out to grab a fresh bag of something from the freezer.
“Why don’t you change that Coke to a chocolate malt?”
Brenda frowned. “Tiffany stopped by here awhile ago and said those women of yours already gave your babies’ momma an official group number. She’s Ms. Eighteen. Things that serious already, huh?”
Noah washed his face with his hands.
This whole town was a few donuts short of a dozen!
Wonder if the Fayetteville police force was doing any hiring?
In a back booth, a trio of teenaged girls burst into giggles.
He hadn’t thought the idea of moving to Fayetteville all that funny.
Just as he didn’t cotton to their skipping classes. He was just rising off of his stool to go over and say something when he realized they were out on their lunch break, and sat back down.
“Yo, Sheriff!”
Noah didn’t even have to glance toward the burger joint’s opening door to know his youngest deputy, Jimmy Groves, was heading his way.
“Briggs has been looking for ya.”
“Oh, yeah?” Noah said above the racket Brenda was making with the malt machine. “What’s he want?” Briggs was another deputy—the complete opposite of tall, lean and young Jimmy. Briggs didn’t have any hair, was a single parent to three great girls and one boy, and spent his every waking moment when he wasn’t on patrol or ferrying said kids watching tapes of Martha Stewart. Briggs had loved his wife to a dangerous degree. When she’d died of complications of diabetes, folks round town said Briggs would die right along with her. Still one more reason Noah wanted no part of marriage.
Far from being a blessing, loving a woman to that degree sounded more like a curse. Thank goodness Briggs and his munchkin crew seemed to be doing okay, two years later.
“He thought it might be nice to wash your girlfriend’s car. You know, that hot yellow Thunderbird?”
Noah rolled his eyes while Brenda set his malt on the gold-speckled counter in front of him.
He took a long, slow drink, savoring the icy goodness that eased fiery indigestion no doubt brought on by all this talk about him and Cass having already formed some kind of bond. Couldn’t everyone see they were nothing more than friends?
“First off,” he said, “Cassie’s hardly my girl—just the mother of my babies, which technically aren’t even mine, but—oh hell, you know what I mean. And second, stay away from her car.”
“But it’s awfully dusty.”
“Jimmy…”
“Come on, Sheriff, pleeeease. Briggs got to drive it all the way into town from out on the highway, and all I got to do was sit behind the wheel once she was already parked.” Jimmy was one of those kids who had posters of cars up on his bedroom walls instead of bikini-clad women. “If you’ll let me just drive it real slow to the car wash, I promise I’ll never ask for anything else.”
“No.”
Dragging his lip like a kid who’d got nothing for Christmas, Jimmy slinked out of Brenda’s and back to the sheriff’s office located five doors down across the street.
Why was it that the more Noah thought about Cassie and the hornet’s nest of women supposedly scorned, the more he wished she’d had those babies of hers in someone else’s town?
“THIS IS NICE,” Cassie said after Noah had given her the grand tour of his cozy four-bedroom ranch home. She’d decided not to mention the fact that after having told her back at the hospital that he wasn’t allowed to have civilian passengers in his county-issued Blazer, he’d turned around and picked her up in it!
“Thanks. I can’t really take any of the credit, though. Mom did all of the homey stuff. Dad and I just did our part to help keep everything clean.”
“So what happened?” Cassie asked with a smile twinkling in her eyes. While the house wasn’t trashed, in spite of pretty blue floral curtains, mossy green walls and an antique china cabinet brimming with dusty, rose-patterned china, the place definitely had the look and feel of a bachelor pad.
Dirty dishes filled the sink, and mail, newspapers and grocery store sales circulars cluttered the white tile kitchen counters. A dirty frying pan had been left on the stove. Bread crumbs dusted the counter beside it, along with a butter knife and one of those plastic wraps off of a slice of American cheese.
On the living room floor resided hiking boots, an array of video games scattered in front of the jumbo TV and plenty of dirty towels, T-shirts and socks. The overstuffed brown leather sofa was missing a cushion—never mind. There it was, beside the PlayStation II. An earth-toned plaid recliner held a basket of clothes. Judging by the fabric softener sheets crowning the pile, Cassie figured they were clean.
“Guess I’ve been busy,” her temporary housemate said with a disinterested shrug. “Ever since mom died a few years back, and I moved back in here when Dad took off to live in his fishing cabin, I guess it really doesn’t feel much like home anymore. I do the bare minimum of upkeep, but that’s about it.”
On their way down a dark hall, he flipped on a weak overhead light, then kicked aside another stray blue sock.
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said.
“No need to be. I never really had a Beaver Cleaver life to begin with. I mean, to outsiders, my folks made sure everything looked okay, but from the time I was ten, I knew things weren’t. Here’s your room,” he said, stopping at the last door on the right.
He opened it, and upon her first glance, Cassie gasped.
“Noah, this—well, it’s beyond words.”
The large, pale yellow room wasn’t just pretty—it was exquisite. An ornately carved dark walnut canopy bed dominated the west wall, flanked on both sides by matching side tables and eight-paned windows draped with the same yellow rose-patterned fabric as the bedspread and canopy.
Sunlight streamed in, bathing an intimate seating area on the south wall in a golden glow.
Tucked into a bay window was an upholstered window seat brimming with needlepoint pillows of flowers and quotes she couldn’t wait to read. On the walls hung an interesting blend of antique plate collections and hats and black-and-white photos of long-gone ancestors.
Dotted here and there were colorful tapestry rugs, and blending nicely with the abundance of yellow were regal ferns on stands and delicate English ivies trailing over the rims of teacup planters and matching saucers.
Through an open door, Cassie glimpsed a white-tiled bathroom. Behind a closed door was, she assumed, a closet.
“I’m glad you like it,” Noah said, yanking a dead leaf from the nearest fern. “This room meant a lot to my mother. From what little I’ve pieced together, she’d always wanted a daughter, but after three miscarriages—the last a close call with nearly dying—her doctor said no more. She had to have a hysterectomy, and Dad said she never recovered.”
“Wow.” Cassie swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say. That’s awful.”
Noah shrugged. “Water under the bridge. Anyway, I always viewed this room as her shrine to the little girl she wanted instead of me.”
“Oh, Noah, you don’t think that just because she wanted a girl means she loved you any less, do you?”
“I’ll get your luggage, and the kids’ toys and stuff, then show you the deck and my new gas grill.”
“Noah, don’t you want to—” Talk?
Too late, he’d already left the room.
Turning in a slow circle, Cassie once again drank in the space. Different from the rest of the house, this room held a faint lemony smell. Not a speck of dust rested on anything. Not on the dresser with its collection of silver-framed pictures of Noah as a boy. Not on any of the hardback classics lining a built-in bookshelf. Not even on the glass paperweights lounging on the seating area’s coffee table, basking in the sun.
The room was a shrine.
But to who or what?
Noah’s mother and the daughter she’d wanted? To Noah’s lonely childhood—assuming he’d had one? To his ex-wife, or one of the women in the support group? Or to something more? Something Cassie sensed hiding deep inside him. Something all seventeen members of that goofy group also might have sensed, but hadn’t identified.
Cassie, on the other hand, wondered if she might have accidentally stumbled across the answer.
Whether he knew it or not, could Noah, the breaker of hearts suffer from a broken one?
Having herself fallen victim to the very same malaise, Cassie figured she ought to be able to recognize the signs in others. Something she also recognized was the fact that no amount of talking or praying—or for that matter, dusting—would ever cure the disease. Maybe time would, but for her at least, not enough had passed yet for her to be able to tell.
Goose bumps dotted her arms.
Crossing them, she ran her hands up and down her shoulders, suppressing a shiver. For all the room’s warmth, why was she suddenly so cold?

Chapter Four
“Thanks,” Cassie said to Noah in the cereal aisle of Riverdale Grocery.
“For what?” he asked, snatching the box of fiber flakes from the top shelf and tossing it in their cart. He’d offered to push, but though she hadn’t said anything to him, the day’s activities were starting to take a toll. She was exhausted from her latest trip to the hospital to feed the babies and holding the cart gave her much-needed support. “Because if I were really and truly a good guy, I’d save you from eating this overpriced cat food in a pretty box.”
She made a face.
“Seriously,” she said, rounding the end cap piled high with Pop-Tarts to turn down the baby aisle. “Thank you. I’m not used to this damsel in distress role I seem to have fallen into. It seems like every time I turn around, caught yet again in another jam—this time unable to reach my favorite cereal—you gallop up on your trusty sheriff-steed to save me…I mean, us. Guess I need to start getting used to that, huh? The fact that I now have a family.”
“Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he said, pretending to whip off a cowboy hat while he deeply bowed. “’Twasn’t nuthin”’
She swatted the top of his head with the store sale circular. “Just for a second, would you stop horsing around? I’m trying to be serious.”
“But I’m tired of being serious,” he complained. “We’ve done that for, like, the past two days, and it’s starting to be a major drag.”

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