Never, Ever Trust A Cowboy

Like the wind, Jackson Stroud plans to blow through Texas ranch country and never look back...proving Shelby Grace Lockhart’s motto correct. But the former Dallas detective doesn’t walk away from ladies—or infants—in distress. So when he discovers an abandoned newborn and a woman looking for a fresh start, Jax knows he came to this special town for a reason. Shelby Grace is just as determined to learn why someone left a baby on her doorstep. As their quest leads in surprising directions, Jax starts to believe he’s finally found a place to belong. What will it take to convince Shelby that this is one cowboy she can count on?

“Guess that old saying is true. Everything looks different in the light of day.”

Shelby turned to fix her gaze on the tall figure at her side holding the baby carrier easily against his chest. That sight was different.

“I’m going to look around and see what I can find.” Jax settled the baby carrier down on the wooden slats at her feet.

Clearly he expected her to stay put and watch over the foundling. Clearly the man did not understand that Shelby Grace was finished doing what other people expected. It took her only a moment to bend and unsnap the safety latches. She lifted the baby and cuddled her close, even as she headed to the steps to follow Jax.

“No one in Sunnyside would have been able to hide a pregnancy, much less a baby for three months.”

“You honestly think there are no secrets in this town?” He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Would you say everybody here knows all there is to know about you, Shelby Grace?”

ANNIE JONES

Winner of a Holt Medallion for Southern-themed fiction, and the Houston Chronicle’s Best Christian Fiction Author of 1999, Annie Jones grew up in a family that loved to laugh, eat and talk—often all at the same time. They instilled in her the gift of sharing through words and humor, and the confidence to go after her heart’s desire (and to act fast if she wanted the last chicken leg). A former social worker, she feels called to be a “voice for the voiceless” and has carried that calling into her writing by creating characters often overlooked in our fast-paced culture—from seventysomethings who still have a zest for life to women over thirty with big mouths and hearts to match. Having moved thirteen times during her marriage, she is currently living in rural Kentucky with her husband and two children.

Bundle of Joy

Annie Jones

www.millsandboon.co.uk

People were also bringing babies to Jesus

to have him touch them. When the disciples

saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said,

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”

—Luke 18:15–16

For my family, who give me the peace

when I need to write and plenty of space

if I can’t get any writing done.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Nobody did anything without a reason, though reason was rarely behind the things that people did. Jackson Stroud didn’t just believe that; he counted on it.

Guilt. Anger. Pain. Longing. The motivations were often so deep-seated that they were difficult to name. But Jackson—Jax, to people who thought they knew him well—knew what made people tick, or at least he figured it out more quickly than the average Joe.

That knack had served him well these past four years on the Dallas police force. Not as well in his so-called “personal life.” Despite the best efforts of the older ladies at his church to set him up with perfectly lovely women, he’d never been able to turn off the drive to figure people out long enough to make a real connection. Certainly not long enough to settle down. He’d accepted ages ago that he was not the settling-down type.

“Okay by me,” he muttered to himself in the darkness of his truck cab. That just meant there were no broken hearts in his wake when he moved on. Jackson Stroud always moved on.

So when he veered off the brightly lit highway down a darkened ramp in the middle of the night, he did not do so lightly. Bone tired, he needed to stretch his legs, get some coffee and maybe...

From nowhere, the headlights of a silver SUV speeding precariously close to the centerline slashed across Jax’s line of vision. He hit the brakes and swerved toward the shoulder. His own lights came to rest on a dark sign by the road: Y’all Come Back to Sunnyside, Texas.

He grumbled under his breath, then guided his truck back onto the road and drove on until he pulled into the well-lit parking lot, under the signs Delta’s Shoppers’ Emporium and Truck Stop Inn and The Crosspoint Café. Framed by huge glass windows, a lone clerk stood at a counter. He was intently texting at his post.

Jax’s boots hit the ground with a thud. He rubbed his eyes, then his jaw. He needed a shave. He knew he looked rough—but felt only hungry.

He put his hand over his stomach, but it was his conscience that made him admit that hunger had not led him to take the off-ramp tonight. Somewhere in the darkness of this warm spring night, it had dawned on him that without the familiar trappings of his work around him, he suddenly felt cast adrift.

He turned toward the Crosspoint Café. A hot meal, maybe a conversation with a waitress who would call him “honey” and make him feel, at least for a few minutes, like he wasn’t all alone in the big, wide world—that was all he needed. He reached into his truck to grab his steel-gray Stetson, slammed the door shut, then took a step in that direction. The lights inside went out.

“Hey, if you want something, you’d better hurry.” The clerk stood in the mini-mart’s open door a few yards away. He shouted, “Whole place shuts down in twenty minutes!”

“Café already looks closed.” Jax gave a nod and started toward the mini-mart.

“Yeah?” The lanky young clerk frowned, then shrugged it off. “Maybe Miz Shelby has something to do.”

“Miz Shelby?” Jax chuckled softly, instantly picturing a sassy red-haired Southern belle in a pink waitress uniform and white apron, smacking gum and pouring out advice about life as freely as she did rich black coffee while she flirted with her transient clientele. “Maybe Miz Shelby met a handsome stranger and—”

“Hey! Don’t you say stuff like that about Miz Shelby! She taught Sunday school to almost every kid in Sunnyside at some time or another, and for your information, she don’t even know any strangers.”

Jax fought the urge to argue that not knowing someone was what made them a stranger. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure Miz Shelby is a fine lady.”

In his imagination, the unseen Miz Shelby’s hair was now white, her face lined and her life full but still missing something.

“You bet she is. Even if she wasn’t, ain’t been no one around to run off with, anyways.” The young man with the name tag reading Tyler on his blue-and-white-striped shirt leaned back against the open door and checked his phone again. “You showing up and a jerk who tried to steal some gas are the only action I’ve seen around all night.”

Not that the kid could see much of anything beyond the small screen in his hand, Jax thought. Then his mind went to the speeding SUV. Like any good cop, he wondered if there was a connection, if something more was going on.

Before he could ask the kid about the incident, the sound of a cat mewing caught his attention. Maybe not a mew—definitely the cry of a small animal, though, probably rooting for food out there in the lonely night.

“Anyways,” the kid said, heading back inside, “I don’t know what’s up with Miz Shelby, but I’m locking the doors at eleven.”

Jax nodded. No gas stolen. Not his jurisdiction—or his business. He decided to let it go and followed the kid inside.

The sound demanded his attention again. Close to the café, maybe on the wide, rough-hewn wooden deck? Jax turned to pinpoint it and caught a movement briefly blocking the dim light from inside the café. Someone was moving around inside.

A screech of a wooden table leg on concrete. The clank of metal, followed by a crash of dishes. A shuffling sound. Then a soft whimper of that small animal in the darkness. Was something up in the café, which had closed uncharacteristically early? Was there an injured animal nearby that needed help?

The sound was none of his business, either, but he wouldn’t be able to walk away not knowing if there was something he should have done and didn’t. The boards of the café steps creaked under Jax’s boots. He wished he had a flashlight. A shape filled the glass window in the café door. He started to call out for whoever had closed the café to stay put until he could check things out, but the subtle mewing drew his attention again.

He glanced down to find a square plastic laundry basket covered with small blue-and-white blankets. Something moved slightly without revealing anything beneath the blankets. He thought of the sound and drew a quick conclusion. Someone, probably knowing good ol’ lonely, grandmotherly type Miz Shelby worked the late shift at the Crosspoint, had left a basket of kittens on the doorstep.

The doorknob of the café rattled, and Jax bent down to snag the basket. “Hold it, there’s a—”

The sickening thwock of the door whacking his head rang out in the night. The door had knocked his hat clean off, but thanks to a gentle nudge from him, the basket had been spared.

“Ow.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a split second. When he straightened up and opened them again, he found himself gazing into the biggest, bluest, most startled eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes that were wet with tears.

“What hap... Why...?” The young woman staggered back a step, clutching a folded piece of paper and an overstuffed backpack covered with multicolored embroidered flowers.

She was just a little bit of a thing. The brief glimpse of her outline through the window had told him that much. It hadn’t told him that she was maybe in her late twenties. Or that when he looked into her face, his heart would race, just a little.

“Don’t tell me. You’re Miz—”

“I’m sorry...I was just... We’re closed.” Still standing in the threshold, with the main door open slightly behind her and the screen door open just a sliver in front of her, she set the colorfully decorated backpack down. She glanced around behind her, then set her jaw and reached inside to flip on an outside light. “I know the sign says our hours go later, but tonight we’re closed. Goodbye.”

Her tone had started out steady, had faded and then had ended firmly again.

He bent slowly to snatch up his hat. His banged-up temple began to throb. “I could see that you were closed. That’s why I came over here.”

“You came here because you saw that we were closed?” She stiffened, then leaned out enough to steal a peek outside, her gaze lingering on the lights of the store, where Tyler was texting away, paying them no notice.

That afforded Jax a moment to take in the sight of her. And what a sight. Her hair was neither blond nor brown, with streaks that beauticians might work hours to try to produce but only time in the sun could create.

When she caught him studying her, she blushed from the quivering tip of her chin to the freckled bridge of her nose. Her lips trembled. He thought for a moment she’d burst out crying, as the telltale tears proved she had been doing. She was obviously in a highly emotional state. Scared, maybe. Vulnerable, definitely.

He put one hand out to try to soothe her. He wasn’t sure what he would say, but he would speak in a soft, reassuring tone. He’d help her because...well, that’s what Jax did. He helped. Whenever and wherever he could. “It’s all right. I just—”

“Didn’t you hear me? We’re closed, cowboy.” Her posture relayed a confidence her voice did not. “Go.”

She blinked a few times, fast, but tears did not well up in her eyes. In fact, Jax got the feeling that if she could have made it happen, fire would have shot from them. And that fire would singe his hide considerably.

That thought made him grin. “Actually, I’m not a cowboy so much as I’m here to—”

“I don’t care who you are or what you want. You need to leave here and be whoever you are elsewhere.” She gripped the edge of the door as if it were the railing on a sinking ship.

The sight of her small hand white-knuckled against the rough wood stirred something protective in his gut, even as her insistence that he leave tweaked his suspicions about what was going on here. Was there a message in her behavior? Was his instant attraction to the lady throwing off his finely honed ability to sense danger and motivation?

“I’m Jax.” The name that no one had called him for so long came out quickly and naturally in her presence. “That is, you can call me Jax.”

“Jax?” Her lips formed the name slowly. She shook her head, as if she didn’t understand why he was still standing there, whatever he asked to be called.

“That is, I’m Jackson Stroud.” He steadied the small basket at his feet, then stood tall, settled his hat on his head, lowered his chin slightly and added with what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Kitten rescuer.”

“Kitten...?” She glanced downward at the basket, which she might have knocked over with the door if she hadn’t beaned Jax instead. Yet she didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the injury to his head.

The screen door creaked loudly as she came outside at last. She knelt down, peeked under the blankets, then turned her face to look at him. The fire in her now had an ominous quality, as if the first sparks of suspicion had become a bed of banked embers that had the potential to smolder on for a very long time. “What is the matter with you?”

“Well, I did recently take a rather nasty blow to the head.” He rubbed his temple and gave her a grin.

The clerk stuck his head out the door again. “Everything okay over there, Shelby Grace?”

“Shelby Grace,” Jax murmured. He liked that better than Miz Shelby. It felt good to say, all Southern charm with a touch of faith. She sounded like a woman he could reason with, maybe even win over if she’d just listen and—

“Call Sheriff Denby, Tyler.” She bent over the basket and fussed with the blankets for a moment.

“He ain’t gonna like being woke up this time of night,” the thin young man called back.

“Sheriff? There’s no call for that.” Jax took a step back as he dipped his hand into his pocket to withdraw his badge. Wait. He didn’t have it on him anymore, and even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything here and now. He stepped back again and held his hands up. “I was just trying to do the right thing, ma’am.”

“The right thing? You have the gall to talk to me about...” She gathered the blankets back up again, reached into the basket, lifted the contents out all at once and stood. “Call Denby, Tyler. Tell him it’s an emergency. We have a no-account lowlife here who just tried to abandon a baby on my doorstep!”

Chapter Two

“Baby!” The ruggedly handsome cowboy standing inches away from the doorway of the Crosspoint Café looked genuinely shocked at that news. “Lady, I don’t have a baby, but if I did, nothing in the world would make me drop it off somewhere and walk away.”

She wanted to believe him. But then, Shelby tended to want to believe everyone—her dreamer of a dad, her liar of an ex-boyfriend, all her friends and coworkers who told her that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. And she had paid the price for that.

Shelby drew in a deep breath and went over the three promises she had made to herself last night. She had felt so strongly about them, she had included them in the note still clutched in her hand.

1. Never forget that with God all things are possible.

2. Never let anyone else tell her what she “should” feel.

3. Never, ever trust a cowboy.

“I’d like to say I believe you, but...”

She skimmed her gaze over the man before her. Tall, lean, dark-haired, with steely eyes burning into her from the shadow of a gray Stetson. He was the picture of cool, calm and all-cowboy. The culmination of years of disappointment in men like this made it impossible for her to simply trust whatever this one had to say.

“But I did come out and find you bent over this basket. How do I know you didn’t leave it and weren’t just about to take off?”

“Sheriff Denby says to stay put. He’ll get here as soon as he can,” called Tyler Sprague, the teenage clerk, whom Shelby had known since she’d watched him in the church nursery.

“Okay.” Shelby clutched the basket close, relieved to have a chance to look away from the stranger. “Let’s get her inside.”

The cowboy cocked his head. “Her?”

She stopped mid-turn, her foot raised above the threshold. “What?”

He leaned in close. Closer than she’d normally have allowed a man to get to her, especially one she didn’t know. “You called the baby her.”

She could hear her own heart beating. Heat surged up from her neck to her cheeks, then all the way to the tops of her ears. She raised her chin to try to look beyond the man who had just challenged her—in more ways than one—to the kid standing behind him. “We’re taking him or her inside, Tyler.”

The young man gave the thumbs-up even as he began heading for the mini-mart entrance. “I’ll close up and come over.”

The man held the door open for her and the baby in the basket, waiting until she passed so close that the blankets brushed against the sleeve of his denim jacket. Then he murmured, “You said her.”

Shelby went sailing across the threshold, which she thought she would never cross again, her head held high. “I didn’t want to say it. Babies are human beings, not its.”

Once inside, he whisked his hat off his head like a true Texas gentleman. “That much I agree with, but still...”

“Just what are you accusing me of?” She set the basket down on the tabletop. She could see the man’s eyes much better now. That wasn’t making it any easier for her to talk to him. She bent her head and gazed down at the infant’s small, sweet face instead. “That is what you’re doing, right? Accusing me of something?”

“I was just asking a question.” He stood there for a moment, with expectation hanging in the air between them.

Shelby had never been grilled by the police in her life, but she kind of got the feeling this was how it would be. She pressed her lips closed, getting the sense that anything she said could and would be used against her. And yet she didn’t feel threatened so much as...

His gaze sank into hers.

She took a quick, sharp breath and didn’t let it out until he looked into the basket. His eyes narrowed. After a moment, he shook his head. “What kind of person would not only forsake their child, but also leave it alone in the night outside a closed café?”

“We weren’t supposed to be closed,” Shelby said softly, unable to take her eyes off the small pink child in the basket. A baby whose appearance here tonight had foiled her big plans.

The baby stretched and squirmed. Long lashes stirred, then lifted. The baby looked right at Shelby, then at the road-weary, bleary-eyed cowboy.

“She’s so... I just don’t see how anyone could...” The word strangled in Shelby’s throat. Tears burned in her eyes—again. She would have thought after the past few days, since she had made up her mind what she had to do, that she’d cried all the tears she’d been allotted for a lifetime. But nope, here they were again. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day and...”

“Her eyes are blue,” he murmured.

“Lots of babies have blue eyes at first,” she assured him, swiping away what she resolved would be her last tear with the back of her hand.

“Your eyes are blue.” He jerked his head up to nail her with a discerning stare.

Really? This total stranger, this cowboy kitten rescuer, was testing her like that? Any other time in her life, she would have stumbled all over herself to assure him she was above reproach...because, well, she was in this instance. But tonight, with her new resolve to take charge of her life, she decided to give as good as she got.

She gave one last sniffle, then moved around the suspicious, questioning cowboy slowly, her gaze fixed on his face. “You just called the baby her.”

He glowered at her—for about two seconds. His smile broke over his face slowly, not at all like the bold grin he had flashed at her earlier that had thrown her completely off-kilter. This smile, and the way his broad shoulders relaxed as he rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head as a concession to her standing up to him, warmed Shelby to the very pit of her clenched stomach.

“Maybe we should look for a note or something.” He started to reach into the tangle of flannel blankets.

“Wait.” She stuck her hand out to stop him. The instant her fingertips brushed his jacket, her breath went still. She curled her fist against her chest and managed to sound a little less flustered than she felt as she asked, “Won’t the police want to look for fingerprints?”

“Not likely. First of all, you won’t get prints off flannel. Besides that, unless whoever left this baby has a criminal record in a database easily accessed by the local cops, it really won’t be an issue.” He reached in, cradled the whole body of the small infant in his large, strong hands, then lifted the baby up.

Despite her clashing emotions, Shelby couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the sight of the cowboy and child framed by the window of the silent café. “You seem pretty sure of what you’re doing.”

“Spent a lot of time in foster care. I learned a lot about looking after little ones.” He shifted to get the baby situated right against his broad shoulder.

“No, I meant...”

The baby let out a soft sound, then snuggled in close, drawing its legs up. A tiny milk bubble formed on the sweet little lips, which made those chubby pink cheeks almost unbearably pinchable.

The stranger leaned back to check out what was going on with the baby. Then he smiled—just a little and only for a half a second at most.

Shelby sighed.

“Around here, everybody knows how to tend to babies and children and old folks and...whatever needs tending to.” Except the one guy she had hitched her heart to, she couldn’t help noting to herself. Mitch Warner hadn’t known how to take care of anyone but himself, and he’d even done that poorly. “What I meant was that you seem to know a lot about police work.”

“That I picked up after foster care.” He began to pat the child’s back.

She stood there, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, waiting for him to elaborate. How did he pick up his knowledge of police procedures? Was he the type to associate with lawmen...or lawbreakers?

“Why don’t you check for a note?” He jiggled the baby slightly and nodded toward the basket.

She rifled through the tangle of pastel-colored flannel blankets. “Here are a few disposable diapers and a full bottle. Nothing else. No note. No personal items.”

“I figured as much.”

She looked up to find him staring at her. Or, more accurately, straight into her—as though he were searching for something she wanted to keep covered up.

He settled the still sleeping child back into the basket. Shelby reached out to pull the top blanket up over the baby. He did the same.

Their hands brushed. The warmth of his callused palm eased through her chilled fingers.

This time she did not yank away, but let her hand flit from the blanket to the baby’s soft curls and on to its soft, plump cheek. “If you don’t mind, I was just going to tuck the baby in and say a little prayer for...the baby...and for whoever left the baby here.”

He nodded. “That’s kind of you. I’m more than a little ashamed that I didn’t think to offer that myself.”

That caught her off guard. “You want to join me in a prayer?”

“For the child, yes, ma’am, I would. I don’t know if I can be so gracious toward the one who walked off and left her....” He bowed his head and shut his eyes, then opened them once again to nail Shelby with a look as he added, “Or him.”

Shelby took a deep breath, acknowledged both the remark and the reservations they both still held for one another with a curt nod. “All right, then...”

“Jackson Stroud.” He held his hand out.

“Shelby Grace Lockhart.” She gave his hand a quick, firm shake and, just before she let her hand slip from his, added in a soft whisper, “Jax.”

The use of the name he had first given her seemed to hit home with him. It appeared to set him off his game for a split second before he nodded to her and bowed his head.

She bowed her head, too, but she did not close her eyes. Instead she focused her gaze on the compelling face of this innocent, seemingly unwanted child as she prayed.

“Every creature matters to you, Lord. Everyone is loved. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that none of us is ever truly alone when we feel lost. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to do and who to trust. Please, Lord, help me...help us...to show your love to this newcomer. And through it all, let us not forget your mercy for whoever found themselves in a place where they thought it best to leave this precious one here tonight. We place them and ourselves in your loving hands. Amen.”

“Amen,” he murmured.

“Amen? Y’all holding a revival in here or something?” Tyler came striding in with his phone in one hand and earbuds swinging in his other with every step. “The store is all locked up tight. Sheriff Denby just pulled up outside.”

Shelby spun around to face Tyler, her heart pounding. A mix of panic and embarrassment swirled through her at the idea of being seen praying with this man, whom she had met only moments ago and clearly had no reason to fully trust.

“Just another hard luck case for Shelby Grace,” she could imagine folks saying. Someone else who would fill her head with promises and her heart with hope, when anyone else with any sense would know it was all a lie or a dream. Shelby had had her fill of that. That was why she had been headed out of town tonight. Slipping away after her last shift, leaving nothing but a note to explain that it was time she started over in a place where she wasn’t known as softhearted Shelby. That was the best way to make an exit from the Crosspoint Café once and for all.

Of course, now that exit would have to wait. She tucked the note into the old backpack she’d had since she was a teen, and looked for something to keep her busy. “I’ll make coffee.”

“You think this will take long?” Jax called out as she hurried off. “I have plans.”

“I hope those plans include watching the baby for the next few minutes, while I do this.” Shelby dove into the task, grabbing a bright red plastic container from a shelf above the coffeemaker.

“Trust her, man. If anyone knows how to get around the old guys in town, it’s Shelby Grace.” Tyler took a seat at the long service counter and began swiveling back and forth on a stool.

“That so?” Jackson Stroud studied her through those piercing, narrowed eyes once again. He might have looked menacing if not for the fact that the whole time he kept one hand protectively on the side of the basket, making sure the baby didn’t wriggle it off the tabletop.

“You want to get this done quickly? Then coffee is the only way to go.” Shelby pulled out the carafe and held it up like she was filming a commercial for it.

The mysterious cowboy just scoffed.

She set the carafe down hard.

He tipped his head to her, as if to say he would bow to her expertise.

That small triumph buoyed her movements as she got out the filter and opened the container. With the rich aroma of coffee filling her nose, she tipped out a spoonful of grounds and said, “Sheriff Denby is not a young man. It’s late. The least we can do for him is have some coffee waiting so he can tackle this case with a clear head.”

“Clear head? That may be hoping for a bit much,” Tyler joked.

“I was supposed to retire over a year ago.” The familiar booming voice of Sheriff Andrew Denby—Sheriff Andy to the locals—echoed in the café as he appeared in the doorway. “But they can’t find a replacement willing to work my hours for the amount the county budget can afford to pay. Nights like this, I don’t wonder if I’ll ever retire. Who are you?”

Jax held his hand out to the man, but his expression remained reserved. “Jackson Stroud. I found the basket.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff Andy, but this couldn’t be helped.” Shelby poured water in the machine, flipped it on, then turned to find the older man peering down into the basket on the table.

“It’s not just a do-nothing job, you know.” The sheriff spoke directly to Jackson Stroud, who nodded politely. “We get our share of excitement coming in off the highway. Anyone they hire needs to be a diplomat to work with the town council, a stickler to meet state and county regs, a detective and apparently—” he reached in, lifted the baby up and gave a sniff “—a diaper changer.”

“Oh, Sheriff, let me take care of that.” Shelby rushed forward.

“You pour the coffee. This ol’ grandpa knows which end is which.” The sheriff gathered baby and clean diaper and headed for the restroom, calling over his shoulder, “So no idea who the parents are? No clues? No note?”

“Nothing.” Shelby set the coffee down.

“She had a note.” Jax eyed her. “And a backpack full of stuff on her way out the door after closing up early. If you look at her face, you’ll find she’s been crying.”

The sheriff reentered the room. He, Tyler and Jax all locked their gazes on her at once.

Shelby felt as if she’d been slapped. “What? You can’t possibly have seen all that.”

Sheriff Denby slipped into the restroom without any further response.

“I don’t know how you do police work around here, but some people might call that a clue.” Jax raised his voice to make sure the sheriff heard.

“Yeah? Well, around here, it’s what we call besmirching a good woman’s reputation!” Shelby came around the counter, her pace underscoring the quick clip of her irritation at what this total stranger seemed determined to pin on her. “I may be a soft touch. I may have wasted most of my life waiting for my father’s dreams of raising quarter horses to pay off so he could buy us this café like he promised. I may even have thrown away three of my twenty-eight years thinking Mitch Warner would stop running around with other girls and settle down with me, but...” Her voice broke. Her heart pounded. She had never admitted all of that out loud to anyone. Pouring it out to Jackson Stroud left her feeling vulnerable but justified when she jerked her head high and concluded, “I am not the kind of girl who would have a child without being married and if I were a mother. Let me assure you, I’d never leave him or her. I’d do anything in my power to protect my baby...”

“It’s a girl.” Round-faced Sheriff Denby appeared with the freshly diapered infant and handed her to Shelby.

“Surprise, surprise.” Jax cocked his head and crossed his arms. “No chance you knew that already?”

Shelby sighed and shook her head at the implication in his question.

“And her name is Amanda,” the sheriff went on. “At least that’s what it says in fancy stitching on the corner of this blanket she was wrapped up in.”

“Hand-stitched, huh?” Jax looked at the corner of the blanket, then at Shelby’s decorated backpack. “Any flowers on it?”

“You have got to be kidding.” Shelby couldn’t help but laugh as she spoke to baby Amanda to get her point across to everyone. “This guy thinks I’m your mother, sweet pea.”

“Shelby Grace? A mama?” Sheriff Denby snorted out a laugh that someone else might have taken as an insult. “No way could she have had a baby and kept it a secret around here. Maybe somebody could have, but not her. We all know her story.”

“I don’t,” Jax said in a soft tone that bordered on dangerous—but also carried interest.

“This ain’t about you.” Sheriff Denby moved to the counter, picked up the coffee carafe and flipped over a cup on the counter. But he didn’t pour. “This is about Shelby Grace.”

“Right. We agree on that, at least.” Jax adjusted his hat, and the movement came off as a kind of sly tip of congrats to the sheriff for being on his side.

“What do you mean? About me how?” Shelby cradled the baby higher in her arms, but that did nothing to temper the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Everybody in town knows your story, Shelby Grace. We all know about your daddy, about that Mitch. Some of us even know that you broke your lease and packed up all your belongings today.”

“Huh?” Tyler glanced up and blinked. “You moving, Miz Shelby?”

“I don’t know your story, Miss Lockhart, but I do know that that’s an interesting development.”

People were not supposed to find out this way, not by hearing it couched in supposition and gossip, and certainly not before her father. “It doesn’t matter, Tyler. None of this has anything to do with me and—”

“Hold that thought right there, young lady.” Sheriff Denby flipped a waiting coffee mug over on the counter and helped himself to a steaming hot cup. “There is a more than passing fair chance that whoever left that baby on the doorstep, when you were here closing up all by your lonesome, left her here for you to find.”

“Makes sense to me.” Jax turned toward the door, then looked at Tyler. “You said someone tried to steal gas from the station tonight. Did they happen to be driving a silver SUV?”

“Uh, no. Actually, when I looked up and saw a faded red Mustang slide up to the pump, I thought it was Mitch come to see Miz Shelby. So I stopped paying attention until they took off fast. That’s when I thought maybe they’d filled up and run off without paying, but turns out their credit card had been denied and they didn’t get a drop.”

“Mitch?” Jax leaned one elbow on the counter, gave Shelby a hard look, then glanced at the baby. “Any particular reason this Mitch might have come by tonight and not hung around to talk to you face-to-face? He a friend of yours?”

“An ex...friend,” Shelby said, oddly defensive in this man’s presence. Still, she searched the baby’s face for any similarity to Mitch, who she had forgiven more than once for cheating on her.

The man stared her down with an expression that made her feel he knew all about Mitch and his cheating ways, though that would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?

“This Mitch wouldn’t be the kind of ex-friend who might think you’d be a good person to raise his child, would he?” Jax asked, sounding far too matter-of-fact for that kind of question.

“The last thing Mitch Warner would have wanted was to be a daddy,” Sheriff Denby snorted.

Shelby tucked the baby in closer, as if that might conceal how strongly her heart was beating at the very idea that Mitch might have done something like this. “Of course, we are conveniently overlooking the possibility that the baby was left by someone who doesn’t even know me. Someone we don’t know, for that matter.”

“Like me?” The man with the cool eyes and the quick smile cocked his head at her.

“I’m just saying that we all know one another around here. You just showed up.” At the worst time. Or maybe the best, if he had no connection to tiny Amanda. “Tonight, of all nights.”

“You want to know who I am, Miss Shelby Grace Lockhart? I’m a man who served four years with the Greater Dallas police force.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet, glanced down at it, grimaced slightly and put it back. “At least I used to. Now I’m, for all intents and purposes, homeless and unemployed for the next couple of weeks.”

He gave her a wistful smile that hinted he expected her to find that notion so preposterous, she would have to laugh. She didn’t know whether to smile or shake her head at that.

He nodded at her nonresponse. “You got me. I’m pretty much the most likely suspect in your child abandonment scenario.”

“Yup.” Andy Denby set the coffee cup down on the counter without a drop ever going in his mouth. “Not trying to be punitive. Got to consider what’s right and best for little Amanda. My wife is the town’s only physician, so it makes sense we get the child to my house to be checked over.”

“So that means...” Jax narrowed his eyes and held out his hands like a man waiting to carry out an order.

“That makes it official. This is a case. I’ll call in what details we have tonight, see if there are missing children reports that might be connected. Whatever else needs to be done can wait till morning.” The sheriff turned to grab a to-go cup and poured his untouched coffee into it as he half spoke, half yawned. “C’mon, Shelby Grace. The old doc will be tickled pink to have you and that little one stay with us for the night.”

“Stay? In Sunnyside?” Her mind raced. She had planned to be long gone by morning, to have begun a whole new life. “Can’t you just take the baby and...”

“And what?” Sheriff Denby took the emptied ceramic cup around behind the counter and disappeared long enough to bend down and drop it in the dirty dishpan. He motioned to her, then to her backpack. “Allow you to leave town before we get statements and figure out what’s best for little Amanda?”

Shelby held her breath. How had the sheriff known she was fleeing town tonight? Had she been that obvious? She turned to Jackson Stroud, as if she actually hoped that somehow he would spring to her rescue. That was his style, right? If he was telling the truth, that he had come over to save a basket he thought held kittens, then why wouldn’t he save her?

The man in the Stetson stepped forward. “So that’s it? I can get back on my way, then?”

Cowboys. Shelby let out a huff. You couldn’t trust them, at least not to do anything but think of their own hides.

“Absolutely...not.” The sheriff put the lid on his to-go cup with a soft click. “It’s late. I can’t call around to find somebody to put you up, so I’m asking nice. Will you just bunk at the Truck Stop Inn for the night so we can sort this out with clear heads tomorrow morning?”

“I can let you in.” Tyler started toward the back of the building, motioning. “It ain’t fancy, but there’s a couple rooms with cots and a shower that we rent out to truckers by the night.”

“Tell Miss Delta to bill the department for it.” Sheriff Denby clapped his hands together, then motioned for Shelby to hurry up and get her things together. “As of now, this is an official investigation. I’ll thank you not to leave town, Stroud, until after we speak again.”

“I was only joking about being homeless and unemployed. I have a job waiting for me in Miami. I was on my way there tonight to find a place to live and get the lay of the land before I start work.” Jax followed behind Tyler. “I can’t stay here indefinitely. I have—”

Denby gave the stranger a hard look that cut him right off. But when the man got even with the sheriff, it did not escape Shelby’s keen eye that the older man added something to the conversation that made the wandering cowboy’s wide shoulders stiffen. He glanced back at Shelby and the baby.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment.

Then Jax nodded to no one in particular and said, “I guess I can spare some time. But as soon as I have nothing more to offer this case, I need to get on my way.”

Chapter Three

Jax rolled onto his side. The whole framework of the old cot creaked. When he’d climbed between the scratchy, bleached brilliant white sheets last night, he hadn’t expected to get much sleep. He thought he would never get comfortable or be able to quiet his mind after the day’s events. But the minute his head had hit the pillow, the prayer he had shared with Shelby had come echoing back to him, and a sweet peace had washed over him. The next thing he knew, the dim light of the new day was creeping through the crack where the shade did not quite meet the windowsill.

He checked his cell phone for the time and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Head bowed, he rubbed his fists into his eyes. Tyler had said that both the café and the convenience mart opened at six in the morning. That meant, he calculated, he had twenty-five minutes to get ready for...

For what? A few hours ago, his course had been set. If you’d asked him then, he’d have told you without hesitation that he’d be in Miami this morning. He’d be scouting out apartments, looking over the exclusive gated community where, on the first of next month, he’d start his job as head of security. Now he didn’t even know what to expect beyond getting up and getting dressed.

That his lack of control in this new situation didn’t have him on edge was not like him at all. Jax was a man always one step ahead of everyone else. He pressed his eyes shut tightly. For a moment he considered praying for guidance, but in the end he decided what he really needed was determination. He set his own way, and his way was toward Miami before the end of the day.

He sighed as the peace of last night turned into a weight pressing down on his shoulders. That weight did not lift as he cleaned up with the toiletries Tyler had gathered for him last night. He’d feel better if he could put on clean clothes, but that would have to wait until he reached Florida tonight.

He walked into the Shoppers’ Emporium part of the building in time to see the spectacular sunrise over the wide-open Texas landscape, framed by a large plate-glass window. It was the loveliest thing he’d seen in a long time.

“Make that the second-loveliest thing,” he murmured to himself as Shelby Grace Lockhart suddenly stepped into view from around the corner in the parking lot. Her hair was windswept, her expression determined, and both her hands gripped the handle of a baby carrier.

“Miss Delta?” Shelby peered in with her cute little nose all but smashed against the glass. “You in there yet?”

“I’m coming. Just hold on to your—” A woman who looked to be a few years shy of sixty, with hair the color and consistency of sunburnt hay, bustled past him, then slowed. She gave him a quick once-over and cocked one penciled eyebrow. She paused long enough to plunk her fist on her bony hip and ask him, “Cowboy or trucker?”

“Cop,” he said, then corrected himself. “Ex-cop, that is.”

Shelby knocked on the door. “Miss Delta? I’m kind of in a hurry. You’ll never believe what happened last night.”

“And I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Delta murmured in Jax’s direction even as she pivoted and went to unlock the front door. “Shelby Grace, where did you get that sweet little fellow?”

“It’s a girl,” Shelby corrected at the exact same time the words left Jax’s lips. Their perfect timing didn’t take the edge off her pointed tone as she added, “Someone left her outside the café last night.”

Shelby gave Jax an unyielding stare. In return, Jax gave Shelby...the biggest grin he’d ever grinned. Which wasn’t saying much, since he never grinned. Or he never used to. But there he was, unable to stop himself.

“How is she doing?” he asked, his eyes on Shelby’s face.

“Doc Lovey checked her out. She’s in good shape, but a little underweight for what Doc thinks is a four-month-old.” Shelby shifted the weight of the carrier and, in doing so, got a bit off balance.

“Doc Lovely?” Jax asked as he rushed forward and scooped the carrier up out of her hands. It felt light to him. No, it wasn’t the carrier that felt light. It was him. Like that weight he had felt since plotting his getaway from here had lifted.

“Lovey. Sheriff Denby’s wife. It’s a nickname, but everyone around here calls her that.” Miss Delta tipped her head back a bit so she could give Jax another once-over, then fixed her attention on the baby in the carrier. “Lovely is what this sweet thing is. What a cutie. Who could have ever left something this precious?”

“Someone who knew they were placing their baby in good hands,” Jax said, almost under his breath. He met Shelby’s hesitant gaze and held it until she took a deep breath and smiled.

“That’s a sweet idea, I guess,” Shelby whispered.

But? She did not say it, or even hint that there was more to say, but Jax felt it. Something else was going on with Shelby Grace Lockhart. Anyone else might have prodded, peppering her with questions to find out more, but Jax knew that people’s true motivations showed in their actions, not their words. So he held his tongue and waited.

Shelby glanced over her shoulder toward the café, then down at baby Amanda in the carrier, which Jax held easily by the handle. “But I can’t...I don’t have it in me anymore to take on one more person’s broken promises.”

“Promises?” he asked softly.

“A baby left on her own in the dark of night?” Her eyes met his. Her hair swept over her shoulder as she shook her head. “If that doesn’t say someone somewhere broke a promise and now wants someone else—”

“You,” he interrupted.

“Me.” She nodded in agreement. “Now someone wants me to do what everyone knows Shelby Grace does so well. Pick up the slack. Put the pieces back together. Always be there. I just don’t think I can do it anymore.”

He wanted to speak to her of faith. Of knowing where to find strength. Of what it felt like to be a child caught in the middle of a world with no Shelby Graces in it. Instead, he swallowed his opinion and supported her with a quiet “yeah” and a nod of his head.

She shuffled her feet, then squinted toward the large window, where the sun had begun to shine in and create shadows around them.

Clearly she wanted to get moving. But where? And why? None of his business, of course. Under other circumstances, he would have let it go. He studied her profile, the curve of her cheek. The shadows under her eyes told of a sleepless night. He couldn’t let it go—not with the simple question Sheriff Denby had asked him echoing in his mind. Why Shelby Grace Lockhart?

“I can’t believe there’s nothing this little sweetheart needs,” Delta cooed as she gave the baby’s head a pat. “I’m going to go see what I can find.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Miss Delta.” Shelby raised her hand in a halfhearted attempt to slow the juggernaut that was Miss Delta of Delta’s Truck Stop Inn. “Doc Lovey got us diapers and formula from the county health department. After I help the sheriff look for any signs of who might have left the baby, I volunteered to take her to social services over in West...more...land.” Shelby’s shoulders sagged as the older woman hurried away, rattling off a list of things she wanted to gather for the baby.

“Here kind of early, aren’t you?” he finally asked. “I don’t see the sheriff anywhere around.”

“There’s something I have to do at the café before then.”

“Oh?” He narrowed his eyes. It was a simple technique to speak little and act like you expected an answer. Oftentimes people complied without even knowing why. Other times they hesitated, then felt compelled to fill the silence, usually with the very information Jax needed.

Shelby did neither. She took the carrier and settled it on the counter. In doing so, she put her back to Jax. “Delta, will you watch the baby for a few minutes? I’ll come back for her just as soon as I—”

Jax clamped his hand down on the woman’s shoulder, partly in reassurance, partly to tell her he would not be so easily dismissed. “Don’t bother. I’ll bring her over.”

Shelby whipped her head around. Her shoulder went from strained and tense under his touch to stiff but confident. It was a small shift, but one that let him know she would not be intimidated by him, that she had the grit to hold her own ground.

“You?” Miss Delta poked her head out from behind a round display of candy a few feet away. She gave Jax a once-over, then a twice-over. “Pardon my saying so, but you hardly look like the babysitting type.”

“Foster care,” Shelby said before Jax could come to his own defense. She pressed the handle of a baby carrier, labeled Property of the Sunnyside, Texas, Police Dept., into his hand. “Meet me in the café in a few minutes.”

Somewhere in the shop, something fell off the shelf. As soon as Shelby left, Miss Delta tiptoed from behind that shelf and whispered, “You gonna let her do that? Take that baby to Westmoreland?”

The question, and the implication that Jax had any say over what Shelby did with the child, caught him off guard. “Is Westmoreland really that bad?”

“You know what I mean. Take her to...” Delta hurried over to cover the baby’s ears, and even then she spoke in a whisper. “Social services.”

Baby Amanda gurgled.

Jax’s heart clenched. He had been eight when his mom died and he’d been taken to social services. It was a moment he hadn’t thought of in years, and yet he was not foolish enough to think it hadn’t affected him every day of his life.

“What choice do I have?” He wasn’t asking rhetorically. He really hoped she had another suggestion.

“I asked you first,” she said, in a way that left the impression that if she did have some ideas, she wasn’t going to just blurt them out to him. He got that. He was not only an outsider, but he was a total stranger, too. Yet her choice to keep her thoughts to herself actually made his opinion of her go up a couple more notches.

Jax didn’t say a word to that effect. But he did turn to stand next to Miss Delta, looking down at the innocent in the carrier. After a moment, he looked the older woman in the eyes and said softly, “I know I’m a stranger here, but I don’t think for one moment that Shelby Grace or Sheriff Denby would let this child go anywhere that wasn’t the right place for her to be.”

“I know that, young man. I just hope you do, as well.” Miss Delta nodded, then looked down at the baby. She touched the child’s head and bent to give her a kiss on the forehead, which left a bright pink smudge. “You said you were an ex-cop?”

“Yes, ma’am. On my way from four years of service in the Dallas area to a dream job doing private security for the ultrarich in Florida.”

“Dream job?” She stood back, squinted one eye shut and pressed her lips together to make sure he knew she had sized him up good. “For a man like you? Doing the bidding of the ‘ultrarich’ sounds more like a nightmare.”

“It’s helping people without the complications of...the people.” That was as best as he could describe it on the spot. He had to admit, the overly simplified explanation didn’t make him proud of his choice.

Miss Delta homed in on that right away. She shook her head, causing the necklaces she wore to jangle softly. “That’s what you have your heart set on? Spending your days as a hired helper?”

He repositioned his grip on the baby carrier and his boots on the concrete floor and assured her, “It is.”

“In Miami, Florida?”

“Got a contract that says that’s where I’m supposed to be.”

“Yet here you stand, at the door of the Shoppers’ Emporium in Sunnyside, Texas.” She narrowed her eyes and tapped the toe of her shoe, which was much too fancy for standing on your feet all day.

“What?” Jax demanded, knowing the woman wanted to say more.

“Nothing.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and shook her head. “Only, I wonder if you ever considered that you might just be where you are supposed to be already.”

Jax froze for a moment to try to piece together what she meant by that. He was just a guy who had happened by, right? He didn’t have any reason to get involved. And yet...

He leaned down to wipe the lipstick off Amanda’s head. “I’ll take that under consideration, ma’am.”

“I believe you will.” Miss Delta reached out, grabbed his chin and drew his face close enough to plant a big ol’ kiss on his whiskered cheek. “I really do believe you will.”

That was how he came to walk through the door of the café, swiping at his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket, carrying a foundling baby, grinning and looking for Shelby. Questions about and reactions to the little one in the carrier began flying at him the second he walked into the café from the few patrons who had begun to shuffle in and settle down for their morning meal.

“What a sweetie.”

“How old...?”

“Just precious!”

Questions and reactions to the little one in the carrier began flying at him the second he walked into the café from the few patrons who had begun to shuffle in and settle down for their morning meal. Jax knew they all meant well, but being the center of all this attention was not his style. He was more a stand back and observe kind of guy. Yet with each new set of eyes trained on him, he wanted more and more to retreat.

Retreat? When had that ever been his reaction to anything?

Since he had someone to protect, was his instinctive response.

Jax raised the baby up, forced a wincing smile as he moved away from the prying gazes and began looking around for Shelby to help him out. She wasn’t at a table. Or behind the counter.

“You cannot do this, Shelby Grace. Not now!” The tense, stressed twang of a man’s voice made Jax turn. He spotted Shelby through the opening to the kitchen, arguing with a man with faded blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.

He couldn’t help thinking of Denby’s concern that whoever had left the baby had basically targeted Shelby Grace Lockhart for a reason. Old beliefs twisted in Jax’s gut. Emotion and agendas based on selfishness sometimes made people do desperate things.

He thought of Delta’s cryptic advice that he was where he needed to be. Suddenly being here, with this baby and Shelby, felt all wrong.

Without hesitation, Jax headed for the swinging kitchen door.

“I can’t do it anymore,” Shelby argued, her own voice pitched high with a mix of pleading and anxiety. “You’re going to have to find a way to make the payment or start riding a horse to work.”

“Shelby, hon, talk sense.” The man reached out for her.

Jax found his hand, the one not holding the handle of the baby carrier, doing the same.

Shelby evaded the man’s grasp with a quick duck of her shoulder, and in doing so, she also put herself out of Jax’s reach.

“I am talking sense. For the first time since I realized, deep down, that you were never going to make a go of the ranch, and I was never going to own this café.” Shelby turned to look back, raised her hand, then brushed away a stray curl that had caught on her eyelashes. “I can’t tell you how much I wanted to believe, to go on dreaming that some day...but last night I looked around and realized that someday isn’t coming. We’ve given it all we’ve got, and we have to face the fact that we can’t do it, Dad.”

“Dad?”

Shelby turned to look at Jax.

Before she could tear into him for listening in on a private—if intriguing—conversation, Jax said, “I was actually thinking it might be smart to start looking around for any clues now, before too many people disturb things.”

She sighed, then gave him a single nod. For just a moment, he thought she might cave in to her father’s wishes and stay. She certainly wasn’t quick to rush off, and her tone carried the heaviness of resignation as she finally agreed, “You’re right. Let’s go out the back way and walk around to the front. The sooner we get this behind us, the sooner I can get on with what’s ahead of me.”

Chapter Four

With one hand firmly wrapped around Amanda’s carrier handle, Jax hustled them outside, where the aroma of pancakes and bacon followed them. The damp warmth of the café kitchen met the fresh morning air, and Shelby took a deep breath.

“Guess that old saying is true,” he said with a quiet intensity. “Everything looks different in the light of day.”

Shelby scanned the view behind the café. It all looked familiar to her. Too familiar. Sunnyside, Texas, from any vantage point, was not the view she’d expected to greet her this morning. She turned to fix her gaze on the tall figure at her side, now holding the baby easily against his chest. That sight was different.

He glanced her way and shook his head, a smile playing over his lips.

Her heart fluttered. “I...I don’t know...what you mean.”

“This changes everything.” He motioned toward the back parking lot.

Shelby frowned. “It does?”

“It was so late when I got here last night that most of these houses already had their lights out.” He narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the row of neat little homes across the small lot and a strip of grassy ground beyond it. “I didn’t realize all these houses were so close back here.”

“Oh. Well, it’s a small town. Everyone practically lives on top of everyone else. At least it feels like that some days.” Shelby’s shoulders ached, and her head began to throb. “You said it changes everything?”

“Sure. Last night I was thinking that whoever left the baby came by car, so they made quite a trip in order to reach you. But with people living this close? Maybe it wasn’t you but the café that was the draw for the baby. They left her someplace they could watch to make sure she was okay.”

A cloud passed over the rising sun. Shelby shivered.

“I’m going to look around and see what I can find.” He settled the baby carrier down on the wooden slats at her feet and gave her a nod before heading out.

He expected her to stay put and watch over the foundling. Clearly the man did not understand that Shelby was done doing what other people expected. It took her only a moment to bend down and unsnap the safety latches holding Amanda in place. She lifted the baby up and cuddled her close, even as she headed to the steps to follow Jax onto the gravel that served as an employee parking lot.

“No one in Sunnyside would have been able to hide a pregnancy, much less a baby, for three months, let me assure you.”

“You honestly think there are no secrets in this town?” He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Would you say everybody here knows all there is to know about you, Shelby Grace?”

She pulled up short. Her stomach clenched. It was like he was looking right through her. She thought of the note she had written last night, of her deepest fear, which she was sure no other living soul knew or would understand.

“You know who owns all three of these vehicles?” Jax motioned toward the dust-covered blue pickup truck, the ten-year-old minivan and the lime-green convertible parked side by side in the lot.

Shelby forced her mind back to the task at hand—gathering information to find whoever had left Amanda. “Um, the convertible is Miss Delta’s, the minivan is mine and the truck—”

“Is also yours,” he said, finishing for her, sounding somewhere between speculative and show-offy at having come to that conclusion. “That’s the payment you need your dad to take on, I’m guessing.”

“I bought the van so I could cater some local events once I saved up enough to... Well, it doesn’t matter now. My dad’s truck bit the dust, and he couldn’t get a loan for a new one. So good ol’ Shelby got one for him.”

“Good ol’ Shelby,” he muttered as he strode on from the back parking lot to the side of the building. He kicked the toe of his boot at a clump of grass, then lifted his head and studied where the paved customer lot ended just by the edge of the deck.

The baby squirmed in her arms and made a soft, fussy sound, pushing at the blanket flap swept over her head and wadded against her now-warm pink cheek.

“Do you really think we might find something helpful out here?” Shelby rearranged the blanket and baby so that Amanda could wave her arms freely. That allowed the sun to shine on her sweet, round face.

“It’s not so much about thinking at this point.” He raised his hand to his temple, his expression a mask of concentration. He was completely immersed in the moment. Cool. Focused. Intense. “Trying to outthink the situation is how people jump to conclusions. That can tempt them to try to prove themselves right instead of trying to find the truth.”

Shelby glanced over her shoulder, back at the café, where she had thought through her own situation hour after hour. She had felt trapped in a role not of her own making, unable to spread her wings. She had obsessed over the fear that she would never own her own business. That no man would ever love her enough to be faithful to her. That Mitch Warner was the best she would ever do and that she would end up like her father, always chasing a dream forever out of her reach. As she stood here now in the daylight, Jax’s words went straight to her heart. Had she been trying to prove her conclusions about life in Sunnyside, or had she been seeking the truth? “Man, you’re good at this. Anyone ever tell you that?”

He glanced up and met her eyes. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“But you’re going to.” Shelby had no idea how she knew that, but she knew it beyond the shadow of a doubt. After a lifetime spent around men who didn’t seem able to do anything, she knew. “So just what is it that you’re going to do?”

“Right now?” He lifted one shoulder, then let it down. “I’m gonna look around.”

“Oh.” That should not have disappointed her as much as it did. “So you don’t have any hunches?”

Before he could answer, Amanda sneezed.

“Oh! God bless you, sweetheart,” Shelby whispered.

Jax turned, and his expression warmed as he, too, mouthed “God bless you” to their tiny charge. No sooner had the words left his lips than his shoulders stiffened and his voice went hard. “No. No hunches. Other than that whoever left that little cutie did it in a hurry.”

“In a hurry like someone committing a crime?” She settled the baby on her hip and made a quick swipe to wipe the tiny pink-tipped nose. Once she had thought of it, the theory came quickly to her lips. “Like somebody kidnapping a baby and then panicking and deciding to ditch it somewhere?”

He frowned.

“Or in a hurry like someone ripping off a Band- Aid?” she asked, feeling a bit like she should have led with that. “You know it’s going to hurt, so you do it as quickly as possible. Get it over with.”

“Yeah. Yeah, like that Band-Aid thing,” he muttered as he scanned the tall grass, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t think it’s a kidnapping case. I’m sure Denby checked to see if there are any alerts for a missing infant and acted on that right away.”

“Sheriff Andy did go back to the office last night.” She watched Jax a moment, not sure what to do. Just twenty-four hours ago, she had resolved to take charge of her life and had thought she might actually pull it off. She might really leave Sunnyside. Now? Now she needed to ask Jax a question she realized she probably should have asked herself yesterday, when she had packed up her few personal belongings and had told her landlord to keep the cleaning deposit. “What are you looking for, exactly?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” He reached up in a gesture Shelby recognized as a man adjusting his cowboy hat to shade his eyes. But there was no hat, so at the last second the man rubbed his palm lightly through his dark hair. “When people get in a big hurry, they don’t think straight. They come up with a half-baked plan and carry it through before they get cold feet.”

Shelby shifted her feet nervously back and forth.

“That’s when they make mistakes.”

“Then again, something this monumental surely had a lot of thought behind it.” Shelby pulled her shoulders up. His comment was not aimed at her or her emotionally charged decision to turn her back on everything she knew. Still, it put her on the defensive. “It wasn’t necessarily an impulse.”

“No.” He shook his head. “A woman abandoning a baby in the night, even with the most trustworthy person in the whole town, isn’t something she’s going to plot out.”

The most trustworthy person in the whole town. On one hand, hearing him describe her that way sent a shimmer of pride and happiness through her. On the other hand, it seemed a pretty improbable expectation to live up to. Shelby looked at baby Amanda, then at Jax, and in doing so, she knew. She wanted to live up to it. She wanted to be worthy of the trust placed in her. “You’re so sure it was a woman? Her mother?”

“Maybe someone else was with her, but there is the footprint of a woman’s shoe in the mud.” He knelt down and touched the ground, then stood again with something small and pink in his hand. “And I believe with all my being she was the mom. A kidnapper wouldn’t have brought this.”

“She had to be so desperate,” Shelby whispered, her heart aching at the sight of the floppy home-sewn bunny in his hand.

“Had to be,” he said in a way that sounded like he had some kind of personal stake in that conclusion. He stood and walked over to where Shelby stood holding Amanda. “To do this, she clearly didn’t think she had anyone in her life she could turn to...except you.”

He held out his hand with the humble handmade toy in it for Shelby to take.

Shelby hesitated, then reached out, her hand almost trembling.

Her fingers brushed his.

For less than a second, he held on to the toy. Shelby couldn’t explain how, but much like when they had prayed together over Amanda last night, she felt a connection to this cowboy who had walked into her life when she had needed it the least—and Amanda had needed it most.

Without warning, Jax loosened his grip. The rabbit slid through his large, rough hands, the long ears dragging through his blunt, calloused fingers.

It felt like a passing of the responsibility to Shelby. Jax had found the baby. He had stayed long enough to help Sheriff Denby. He had found what clues he could. The rest was up to her.

Shelby turned the crudely sewn animal over in her hand and shook her head. “You’re right. There’s no one else to take this on here. No one except good ol’ softhearted Shelby Grace Lockhart.”

* * *

They had waited another twenty minutes for Denby to show up at the café before Shelby’s father remembered to tell them the sheriff had called right after the pair had gone out to the back parking lot. The town’s deputy on duty had had to go out to oversee a dispute between two neighbors, and Denby needed to stay close to the office. He wanted them to bring Amanda there to give their statements.

“A desperate mother who thought of Shelby as her only resource?” Sheriff Denby came around to the front of the large wooden desk in his cluttered office to peer into the face of the baby in Shelby’s arms before he leaned back to make a seat of the edge of the desk. “I pretty much came to that conclusion last night.”

With Shelby settled into the only chair in the room, aside from the one behind the desk, Jax leaned one shoulder against the wall. He crossed his arms. “Then why didn’t you share your theory last night, instead of asking me—”

“Because I was hoping you’d come at this with a fresh set of eyes, Mr. Stroud. Or should I call you Officer?”

“Just Jax is enough.” Jax held up his hand. “I’m a civilian now.”

“No such thing. Once a lawman, always a lawman.” The older man groaned a bit as he rose from his perch on the corner of the desk. He winced and straightened slowly. “Of all people, I know how hard it is to walk away from the calling.”

“The calling?” Jax swept his gaze over the walls of the office, which were covered with plaques, framed photos and citations that recounted a history of service. Just standing here humbled and touched him. His few short years on the force paled in comparison to this kind of work, and his new job? Well, it didn’t compare at all.

He tried to tell himself he’d still be helping others in Miami. But he couldn’t stay convinced of that when he turned his head and found himself looking at Shelby cradling Amanda. How could patrolling the playground of those who could afford anything in the world compare to standing up for and protecting those who had nowhere else to turn?

“I don’t know.” Jax shook his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s hard for some people to leave the life of a lawman behind. A calling, like you say. But me?”

“You?” Shelby made a big show of rolling her eyes and laughing at Jax’s weak protest.

Amanda fussed at the sudden, albeit soft, outburst.

Shelby didn’t miss a beat. She curled the baby close and rose deftly from her chair. Her feet did a scuff, scuff, shuffle over the old floor, lulling the baby into woozy contentment, and with hushed words she still managed to knock Jax off his guard and send him reeling with her insight. “You mean the would-be kitten rescuer just rolling through town who let himself get waylaid into a situation with a lost baby? Or the guy who got up at dawn to help with an investigation and make sure everything was okay?”

“Okay, okay. You got me pegged, Shelby Grace.” Jax held both hands up and laughed. He turned around to face her.

She pulled up short in her pacing, stopping just inches away from him, with baby Amanda in between them.

“You got me,” Jax repeated barely above a whisper.

She blinked her clear blue eyes in an expression that seemed half startled, half flustered. She started to step to the side.

Jax did the same. “I...here...let me...”

Neither seemed able to complete a thought, much less an action or a sentence.

Sheriff Denby did not have that problem. “Good. We’re all clear on that. Then everything’s settled, right?”

“Settled?” Jax repeated the word hardly above a murmur. Never in his whole life had he felt settled—nor did he want to feel that way. But standing here, looking at Shelby holding Amanda...

Denby clapped his hands. “Let’s make it official.”

“Official?” Jax said.

“Yes, sir.” Denby went around the desk and whipped open one of the drawers. As he fished around inside it, he said, “I’m going to deputize you, son. So you can escort Shelby and this baby over to Westmoreland.”

“You’re going to what?” Jax stepped back without thinking. He smashed into a row of awards, which slid sideways and fell forward. He had to act fast to save them from crashing to the floor. “Why?”

“Why?” Sheriff Denby chuckled as he pulled out a badge. “Think a hotshot lawman from... Where did you say you were from, son?”

“I’m not from anywhere. Until yesterday, I lived in Dallas. As soon as I leave Sunnyside, I’m going to live in Miami for a while.”

“Dallas,” Denby said as he pulled out a file and slapped it on the desk. “That’s the one I called to check you out.”

“You what?”

“Ran your license plate last night, after I left here. Made some calls.” The white-haired sheriff met Jax’s eyes, almost in a challenge at first. A pause, then a slow, kindly smile followed. “Didn’t think I’d trust you with our Shelby without checking you out first, did you?”

Jax looked at the woman standing at his side with her mouth hanging open, those fire-spitting eyes fixed on the man behind the desk. He laughed. “Blame you? I’d have done the same things myself.”

“I know you would have, son. That’s why I’m asking you to step up now and help us all out.” Denby opened the file and pointed at the paper. “Sign here, and I’ll swear you in.”

“What do you mean, trust him with me?” Shelby came forward. If she hadn’t been holding Amanda, Jax got the sense she would have pushed her way around the desk and met Denby nose to nose, or as close to his nose as she could get beyond his rounded stomach. “I can take care of myself, Sheriff Andy.”

“I’m sure you can, but for now your job is to take care of Amanda, so just for today I think you need someone else to look after you. I can’t leave the office, so...” Denby snatched up a pen and offered it to Jax. “Just for one day. For Shelby.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need—”

For Shelby.

Jax took the pen and signed his name, even knowing that somewhere along the line he was going to pay for letting himself get involved like this.

Chapter Five

Shelby fidgeted with the seat belt, when she really wanted to stretch back and check the straps holding Amanda’s car seat in place. Why she thought she would know how to buckle in the carrier better than Jax, she didn’t know. In fact, as far as babies went, the man seemed to have a lot more experience than she did. Slyly, she glanced over at him from under a spiral of hair that had fallen over her forehead and cheek.

“Ready?” he asked in that deep, resonant Texas drawl of his.

“For what?” she almost whispered. She would have had to have whispered it, because meeting his gaze in these close quarters had all but taken her breath away.

The minivan lurched forward. “Let’s do this.”

He had not made up some reason to make her drive, as her dad would have. He did not whine about the one-hundred-twenty-mile round trip or mutter about how long it might take with the social services department. Her ex, Mitch, would do that every time they spent more than a few minutes doing something that didn’t interest him. No, Jackson Stroud just did what needed to be done.

Shelby marveled not just at that, but also at how impressed she was. She wanted to tell him so but couldn’t help thinking that “Thanks for doing what you do” was an odd compliment. So as they passed the sign reading Buffalo Betty’s Chuck Wagon Ranch House, 19 Miles, she blurted out the first thing that came to her lips. “You look good behind the wheel of a minivan.”

“I what?” He gave her a sideways glance, then fixed his cool dark eyes on the road ahead and gave a deep-throated chuckle. “Shelby Grace, are you... Was that your way of flirting with me? Because if it was, I’ve heard better.”

“I wasn’t...that is... I didn’t...” Shelby gulped in the big breath she had been about to take.

His chuckle opened into a warm, soft laugh. “Relax. No man wants to hear he looks good driving a minivan. I’m just having some fun with you for saying it.”

“Fun. That must be why I misunderstood.” She took a deep breath and slouched back against the gray upholstered seat. “It’s been so long since I’ve done anything truly fun, I’m afraid I don’t even recognize it when I see it anymore.”

“Maybe that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“The sadness on your face last night, when I first looked into your eyes.”

“Oh, that. Actually, I...” She didn’t owe him an explanation. Her whole life had built up to that moment when she had finally decided she needed to get out of Sunnyside, to start fresh somewhere else. Somewhere where nobody thought of her as softhearted Shelby and did things like leave their infants in her care. She thought of the note she had written detailing her feelings. A swirl of emotions followed and carried with it the memory of that first instant that she’d laid eyes on Jax. Then of praying over Amanda with him. How had all of that led to this?

She turned her head to watch the familiar landscape slide by for a moment before she decided the best course was to change the subject. “What happened to your cowboy hat?”

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