Sarah’s heart broke into song. Jake wanted to marry her.

“Is that a yes?” he gasped, breaking from the kiss and burying his face in her hair. “If we go into this with our eyes open, there won’t be any disappointments. We can give Kylie the family she needs, and we can enjoy this chemistry between us forever.”

But chemistry tended to blur reasonable thought.

Sarah paused to sift through Jake’s entire speech, trying to recall something close to the words a woman needed to hear from the man she loved….

Yes, he loved their daughter…but Jake didn’t love her, and the last thing she needed was another sham of a marriage….

Dear Reader,

As Silhouette Books’ 20th anniversary continues, Intimate Moments continues to bring you six superb titles every month. And certainly this month—when we begin with Suzanne Brockmann’s Get Lucky—is no exception. This latest entry in her TALL, DARK & DANGEROUS miniseries features ladies’ man Lucky O’Donlon, a man who finally meets the woman who is his match—and more.

Linda Turner’s A Ranching Man is the latest of THOSE MARRYING MCBRIDES!, featuring Joe McBride and the damsel in distress who wins his heart. Monica McLean was a favorite with her very first book, and now she’s back with Just a Wedding Away, an enthralling marriage-of-convenience story. Lauren Nichols introduces an Accidental Father who offers the heroine happiness in THE LOVING ARMS OF THE LAW. Saving Grace is the newest from prolific RaeAnne Thayne, who’s rapidly making a name for herself with readers. And finally, welcome new author Wendy Rosnau. After you read The Long Hot Summer, you’ll be eager for her to make a return appearance.

And, of course, we hope to see you next month when, once again, Silhouette Intimate Moments brings you six of the best and most exciting romance novels around.

Enjoy!

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

Accidental Father
Lauren Nichols

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This is a story about family,

and I’ve been blessed with the very best.

For my children, Mike, Colette and Laurie, and the wonderful

people who love them. Stephanie, Matt and Bob.

And for the sweetest grandkids in the world,

Nicholas, Lexi and Lena.

And always, for Mike.

I love you all.

LAUREN NICHOLS

fell in love with Montana nearly two decades ago when she and her husband took their three children out West to see “cattle country.” Montana has owned a chunk of her heart ever since. In addition to writing novels, Lauren’s romance and mystery short stories have appeared in several leading magazines. She counts her family and friends as her greatest treasures. When she’s not with them, this Pennsylvania author is either writing, trying unsuccessfully to give up French vanilla cappuccino or traveling with her husband, Mike.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“Be right there!” Sarah Harper gave up looking for her favorite spatula, then shoved the electric mixer to the back of the countertop, handed her two-year-old daughter an icing-covered beater and hurried to answer the doorbell.

If the caller wanted to sell her encyclopedias or a vacuum cleaner he was in big trouble. A hundred cookies sat on the kitchen’s butcher-block work island waiting to be frosted, there were more in the oven, and Sarah was running behind. She’d been rushing ever since returning to town after spending two weeks caring for her aunt, who’d had surgery.

Dazzling Montana sunshine spilled through the screen as she opened the pretty Victorian’s inside door and squinted up at the tall man on the porch. As her eyes adjusted to the morning’s brightness, she got a quick impression of faded jeans, a blue plaid shirt and good shoulders on a lean, rangy frame.

Suddenly, shock razed Sarah’s nerve endings, and all thoughts of her catering business, wedding cookies, mini quiches and sherbet punch vanished in a rush of panic. Quickly, she schooled her expression—tried to pretend she didn’t remember the cowboy on the porch. But as she watched his cordial smile fade and saw stunned recognition rise in his eyes, she knew pretending was a waste of time. He knew her too.

Sarah took a deep breath and swallowed. “Hello, Jake.”

“Hello, Sarah,” he said in the same hesitant tone. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” she replied nervously. “Yes, it has.”

His voice was as deep as she remembered, yet the faint lines beside his dark blue eyes were a mystery, since she couldn’t say if they’d been there before. But the moon over Cotton Creek had left her with a memory of high cheekbones, rugged features and collar-length dark hair. Now she could see that it wasn’t just dark, but as black as the Stetson tugged low on his forehead.

Like those eyes, his hair color came as no surprise. She’d kissed those colors good morning every day for the past twenty-eight months…tucked those colors in every night.

“For-forgive me,” she stammered, tugging the inside door nearly shut behind her. “I’m usually a little more together than this. It’s just that…you’re the last person I expected to see when I opened the door.”

“Same here,” he murmured, still assessing her uncertainly. “You said you were leaving Comfort.”

She’d said a lot of things that night, none of which she wanted to remember. “Do you need directions?”

His gaze narrowed curiously. “Directions?”

Sarah nodded, praying that Kylie would stay in the kitchen with her tiny muffins and tea set. “Yes. If you didn’t expect to see me, then that must mean you’re looking for someone else.” She drew a deep breath and released it on a tremble. “Doesn’t it?”

“I’m not sure. Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” she said, startled by his bluntness.

The last man she’d slept with glanced, frowning, into the front lawn where Sarah’s fancy sign read Miss Lillian’s Bed and Breakfast. When he faced her again, their past was in his eyes. Though, how could he not think about it? Beneath her apprehension and embarrassment, even she was having a hard time keeping her memories at bay. They’d been wild together.

“Sarah, I apologize if this makes you uneasy, but I really need a room. Just until I can find an apartment.”

Dear God.

“For now, I’m staying at the motel outside of town,” he continued. “But rooming here would be more convenient. It’s closer to my office.”

She managed to find her voice. “Your office?”

“Yes. In a nutshell, I’ve been hired to finish your ex-sheriff’s term. I guess you haven’t heard.”

“No. I—I’ve been away.”

“I see. Well, I’ll be here until January. Longer if I like the town and the town likes me.” He nodded at the door she guarded so resolutely. “Would it be all right if I came in and looked around? I’d like to see your rooms.”

No! No, he couldn’t! “I’m sorry,” she blurted, “but I don’t have any rooms available right now. And I don’t think anyone else in town takes in boarders.”

“Then the vacancy sign out front is a mistake?” His mouth thinned grimly. “Maybe I should be talking to Miss Lillian.”

The second lie rushed out, even more desperate-sounding than the first. “What I meant to say is, I’m closing. This is my place. Miss Lillian passed away several years ago.”

Jake moved closer to the door, and Sarah took an uneasy step backward. A late-August breeze carried the earthy scent of his aftershave to her. She detected a marked difference in him from the man she remembered. This man was strong and confident—self-assured and determined. And suddenly she knew that his baring his soul to her that night had been an anomaly. He’d only shared his past because he was wounded and hurting, and he’d never expected to see her again.

“Look,” he said. “If you’re worried about what happened between us before, I don’t plan on repeating it. All I want is a warm bed and a roof over my head, preferably a little cleaner and a little closer to my office than the Twirling Spurs Motel. I wouldn’t be here long, and I’m willing to pay whatever you want. Right now, I just need to find somewhere to—”

Suddenly his gaze shifted from her face to a spot somewhere behind and to the left of her, and his grave features gentled. “Well, now,” he said. “Who do we have here?”

Miserable, Sarah turned around, already knowing who she’d see. As they’d talked, the inside door had drifted open and Kylie stood in the hall, silky black hair skimming her narrow shoulders, blue eyes peeking shyly from beneath her bangs. She was still wearing her pink eyelet nightie, and the beater in her hand was now frosting-free—which was more than Sarah could say for her daughter’s hands and face. Kylie ran to her, and Sarah lifted her into her arms, praying that she would never know the fear her mother was experiencing at this moment.

“What’s your name, cutie?” Jake asked with a smile.

Kylie hid her face in Sarah’s neck and whispered, “More f’osting, Mommy?”

Frosting, Sarah thought gratefully. Cookies. An excuse to terminate the conversation. “In a minute, sweetheart,” she answered, and faced Jake again. “I’m sorry, but I have cookies in the oven. I hope you find an apartment soon, Mr.—” Oh, God, she didn’t know his last name. They’d been as intimate as a man and woman could be, yet they hadn’t exchanged the simplest information.

“It’s Russell,” he supplied quietly, then added, “Sarah, relax. We didn’t do anything wrong. We both needed a friend that night. I was glad you were there for me, and I think you felt the same. At least until—”

Sarah jerked away from the screen. “I have to go. You might want to check the paper for apartments. Our weekly comes out today.” Then, before he could speak again, she shut the inside door and collapsed against it, tears filling her eyes.

She didn’t have one-night stands! She didn’t! Yet the child in her arms was proof positive that, once, she had done just that.

Sarah hugged Kylie close, kissed her hair, then put her down and watched her run into the kitchen. He couldn’t know. This man who had always longed for family—this man she’d known for only one hour—would want to be part of his child’s life. It was as certain as snow in winter. And Sarah would never share her daughter with a stranger.

She’d barely taken a step when she acknowledged the other reason for her anxiety. Beneath his questions and her fears, the electric attraction they’d encountered three years ago was still there. And if Jake learned that Kylie was his, they’d be thrown together again.

Maybe her life wasn’t a thrill a minute, but it was stable, orderly and uncomplicated, and she liked it that way. She didn’t know what would happen if hormones and memories tested her judgment…again.

Pulse pounding, Jake left the sparsely populated outskirts of town and drove back toward his office. On his left, towering mountain peaks rose out of thick, rich timberland to pierce the blue sky. But he was only half-aware of them.

He was thinking of Sarah. Pretty, honey-blond, brown-eyed Sarah. Pretty, frightened-to-the-bone Sarah.

He understood the awkwardness. They had intimate knowledge of each other—and they’d never expected to see each other again. Hell, he hadn’t been sure of what to say at first, either. But why the anxiety? Why the rattled, frantic behavior? Unless…

Of course.

A child usually meant there was a husband in the picture. Was she afraid that if she rented Jake a room, her new husband would see the tension between them and start asking questions? Or, he wondered, scowling, had she gone back to the womanizing creep she’d divorced?

He plucked his sunglasses from the visor and slipped them on, his mind rolling back to that night in the tall grass—just as it had so many times after he’d returned home from his discouraging visit here. It all came back—all the heat, all the desperation, and all the guilt. Because it had been clear that any pleasure she’d derived from their lovemaking had disappeared when they were both able to breathe normally again and she’d faced what she’d done.

Jake sighed. He’d known she wasn’t thinking straight that night; he shouldn’t have let it go that far. But chemistry was chemistry, and he’d put nobility on the back burner and taken the comfort he’d needed, too.

Punching a few buttons, he found an upbeat country song on the radio and acknowledged the feeling in his gut that said the chemistry was still there. But he wouldn’t bother her again. Even if she weren’t already attached, she wasn’t the kind of woman he looked for these days. She was too sweet, too wholesome—and despite the fevered way they’d come together—too principled. All he wanted from a woman these days was an occasional date and some no-strings sex. He’d given up the two-point-five kids and picket-fence myth. Dear, deceitful little Heather had set him straight on that score.

Although, if he had to be honest, his trust in women had been shaken a lot earlier than that. A boy couldn’t grow up knowing he was an afterthought in his own mother’s life without having a few hang-ups.

A horn blast jarred him, and Jake spiked the brake as a white truck bearing Idaho plates shot across the road in front of him. Quickly, he looked across the intersection to check for a stop sign, then swore when he spotted it—flattened at the side of the road. Obviously, the out-of-state driver hadn’t seen it. Jake nearly gave chase, then decided against it. There was no point wasting time on an arrest that wouldn’t hold up. The best he could do now was see that the sign was fixed before someone got hurt.

The midmorning sun glinted off the sheriff department’s white Jeep as Jake pulled his tan Mountaineer in beside it. He got out and slammed the door. As he walked past the wide front window with its fancy gold seal, he waved at Maggie Dalton, who was just hanging up the phone.

“Hi, again,” he said, coming inside.

“Hi.” She finished scribbling a note, added it to a pile and sent him a friendly smile. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“I’m fast. Anybody report a downed stop sign at the corner of Mountain and Prairie?”

“Yep. County maintenance is on it.”

“Good.”

The reception area was fairly large, with the dispatcher’s desk in the middle of the room, and flanked on both sides by a low-railing fence with a swinging gate. To the right stood a row of straight-back chairs and the door to the lockup; to the left, Jake’s private office. Above the waist-high wood paneling, the walls were pale municipal green and needed a fresh coat of paint.

Jake hung his hat on a peg by the door, then walked to the desk and nodded at the stack of messages that hadn’t been there an hour ago. “Some of those for me?”

“Nope, all of them. Nothing too pressing. Judge Quinn wants you to stop by his office at the courthouse sometime this week—but not Friday, he’s going fishing. And there’s a town council meeting on Friday that you’re required to attend. The list of topics to be discussed is in the computer. I’ll print it out for you.”

A teasing grin lit her eyes. “Oh. And the mayor wants you to join her for dinner before the meeting.”

“What’s the grin for?”

“Was I grinning? Gee, I didn’t mean to.” Still fighting a smile, she handed him his messages. “The rest are mostly well-wishes from businessmen. They’d like you to return their calls when you get time.”

Jake sifted through them, deciding that whatever had tickled her fancy was destined to remain a secret. “Anything else?”

“Your uniforms arrived. I put them in your office.”

“Thanks. I’ll change before I start my shift.”

His deputy was a pretty woman in her late twenties with a long black braid and brown eyes, and from the little he’d seen, organized, focused and good at her job. A jittery feeling pooled in his belly. She was also Ross Dalton’s brand-new wife. He’d been stunned—and pleased—to receive an invitation to their wedding at the Brokenstraw Ranch when he’d toured the town a week ago. Life was full of surprises.

“So, did you get a room at Miss Lillian’s?” Maggie asked. “Or did your male pride balk at living in a pink house?”

“The color was fine.” In fact, he’d found it striking with all the curlicued white gingerbread and spindled railings on the wraparound porch. He even liked the lace curtains and tiny candle-lights in the front windows. “Unfortunately,” he said, frowning, “the owners are closing it.”

Maggie blinked in surprise. “After just having it painted? I spoke to Sarah yesterday, and she never mentioned it.”

No surprise there. The way she’d acted, he’d bet a month’s salary that she hadn’t planned to do any such thing until he’d shown up. He’d also bet she’d reopen the instant he found a permanent residence.

“Did Sarah say why she was closing?”

“No, she just told me to check the want ads. Maybe she and her husband don’t want strangers roaming the house with their daughter being so young.”

Maggie clicked on the computer to her right and scanned a file list. “Interesting theory, but Sarah’s not married.”

Jake froze for several seconds, then tucked his messages in his breast pocket. His blood clipped along a little faster.

“In fact,” Maggie added, “if she hadn’t divorced Vince Harper a few years ago, technically she’d be a widow.”

He was so startled, he couldn’t keep his shock from showing. “Sar—the woman I just spoke to was married to Vince Harper?”

Maggie punched a key on the keyboard, and the printer started spitting out data. “I take it you’ve heard the name?”

Headlines hyping Harper’s notorious diamond theft blazed through Jake’s mind, complete with a mug shot of a smirking man with a long blond ponytail. “Oh, yeah,” he said, scowling. “I’ve heard it. Somehow, I can’t imagine…”

“Sarah with him?”

Jake nodded. If he remembered correctly, Harper had been a bona fide loser for most of his adult life. No wonder Sarah had said the things she had the night they met. He pictured the three of them together—Harper, Sarah and that cute little girl—and held back another scowl. No way did that picture look right.

Maggie ripped a sheet from the printer. “Here’s the topic list for Friday’s meeting.”

“Thanks. Now, if you can just find me a place to hang my hat…”

“Sorry, the best I can do is bring in the paper when it comes.”

“Good enough.” He grinned, then crossed the floor to his office, sank into his swivel chair and stared into space.

Sarah had been married to Vince Harper? The smalltime hood who’d knocked over a Florida jeweler and gotten away with the gems? Unbelievable.

Jake had been working in Glacier County when it happened, but most lawmen in Montana knew the case well. The feds had put out an urgent APB, figuring that Harper would head for home. Agents had ended up apprehending the jerk while he was meeting his needs at a brothel a few miles outside of Comfort. After finding only a few diamonds on him, they’d searched the premises, without success. Then they’d learned that he’d spent time at his ex-wife’s home the previous night, and they’d searched Sarah’s house, too.

The remaining diamonds had never been recovered.

Jake eased back in his chair. Now that he remembered the time frame, the scandal had occurred right around when he’d found Sarah crying in that grassy overflow parking lot. But she hadn’t mentioned the diamonds or feds that night. She’d only told him that her divorce had just become final, and she was through with marriage. Or anything close to it.

He’d understood. Fate, or karma or whatever power ruled the worlds of the romantically unlucky had handed him a big fat heartache only a week before.

The carnival aromas of cotton candy and French fries drifted in from Jake’s memory, and suddenly he could smell them, and hear the music floating down from the Founder’s Day celebration two streets away. He caught the faint perfume of the summer cottonwoods, too, and the stirring fragrance of the teary woman in his arms. They’d emptied their souls, and had danced. Because nothing comforted better than a human touch….

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, trying to keep his attraction under wraps as they moved together in the calf-high grass. “Believe me, you’re better off without a cheat and a liar.”

“I know,” she answered in a ragged voice. “It’s not that I still care about him—I don’t. I don’t ever want to see him again. But I’ll miss being in love.”

“You won’t miss it for long. You’re a beautiful woman. There’ll be someone else.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, I don’t trust my judgment anymore. I was so sure he was good, and decent, and… And he was none of those things. I won’t chance marriage again.”

“You’re prepared to be alone for the rest of your life?”

“It’s better than hurting all the time.”

Jake had to agree. Since Heather, he’d adopted a new philosophy. Don’t expect too much from a relationship and you won’t be disappointed. But God, he thought, shortening his steps to a gentle rock and sway, it still felt good to hold someone.

He’d thought he couldn’t feel any lower when he’d found out Heather was sleeping around. He’d been wrong. On the heels of that, he’d learned that the father he’d never known—the father he’d imagined and hoped for as a child—had died. But his dad had sired two other sons. That’s why Jake had traveled three hundred miles to Comfort, Montana. He’d come to meet his brothers.

“You should tell your brothers who you are,” Sarah murmured, seeming to read his mind. “It’s too late to do anything about your dad, but you do have other family.”

“I tried. Walked right up to them tonight at the food booth and lost my nerve. I didn’t want them thinking I was looking for money or a chunk of their ranch. I don’t have any proof that we’re related.”

“Maybe your mother could talk to them.”

“Nope,” he said, and forced a smile. “Emily’s gone, too. But considering that she never even told me who my father was, I doubt she’d get involved even if she were alive. If I hadn’t run into a friend of hers last week, I still wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Would’ve been nice to know the guy responsible for my being here.”

Sarah’s compassionate gaze gentled on his. And suddenly, there was something so special and giving about her—something so good—that he needed to take a tiny bit of it for himself. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he cupped her face, lowered his head and kissed her. Softly. Briefly. Then, not so briefly.

Slowly, Jake eased away, feeling his blood pump harder, feeling the stirrings he’d been trying to ignore for the past hour finally surface.

Sarah touched his face.

He searched her eyes.

Then hungry lips found each other, and dancing became sweet, needy friction.

Maggie rapped sharply on the door, shattering his thoughts as she breezed inside. “Here’s the paper. Hope there’s something promising in there.”

Jake almost stood, then realized with a start that he’d gotten far too involved in his memory. “Thanks.” Taking the paper, he opened it to the want ads to cover his embarrassment. “Seems like that’s all I ever say to you.”

“No reason to. I haven’t done anything.”

“Right. You’re only helping me find a place to live, and boarding Blackjack at your ranch.”

“Not mine, my family’s. And it doesn’t take a lot of time to feed and water one more horse.”

“I’m still grateful.”

“And you’re still welcome.” Maggie paused for a moment, then spoke hesitantly. “Any chance you’ll be here for a while?”

Jake glanced up from the disappointing listings. “I plan to be. Do you have errands to run?”

“No, but I need to talk to Ross. We have tentative plans to meet at Aunt Ruby’s at eleven-thirty, but I can stay until Joe gets back if there’s something in the paper that piques your interest.”

“Go,” he said. “Have lunch with your husband. From the looks of it, I’m out of luck unless I want to buy a used washer and dryer, or baby-sit from eight to four. If a crime wave hits, I’ll phone you at the café.”

“Great,” she said with a bright smile. “See you later.”

But as the door closed in the outer office, Jake’s thoughts returned to Sarah.

Shoving the paper aside, he went to his office window, remembering again how extraordinary their lovemaking had been. An illogical stab of jealousy followed as he imagined her with Vince Harper.

Turning from the window, he started back to his desk. How could she have let Harper touch her, feeling the way she did about the pony-tailed creep? Worse, how could she have let herself get preg—

Jake froze in his tracks as that family picture he’d conjured earlier formed again in his mind and he realized why, aside from obvious reasons, it had looked all wrong.

Vince Harper had had blond hair.

Jake stopped breathing as his mind played a cautious game of connect the dots. First he ticked off the months since he’d made love with Sarah. Then he took a guess at her daughter’s age.

Hair color didn’t necessarily prove parentage, he told himself as his heart pounded. Eye color didn’t, either, unless you had enough family history to factor in. But Sarah Harper was a brown-eyed blonde, and her ex-husband’s hair had been light.

Kylie Harper had blue eyes, and her hair was black.

Every adrenaline-juiced nerve, muscle and cell in Jake’s body sprang to life, and he damned Maggie’s early lunch. He had to see Sarah again.

She’s becoming a little person, Sarah thought, shooing Kylie into the single bed in the first-floor toy room. But she still had that precious baby voice. That sweet, trusting baby squeak that often replaced L and R sounds with Ws, but managed to make herself understood very well, anyway. For a child who wasn’t yet two and a half, Kylie had an amazing vocabulary.

“Mommy, I’n not tired yet.”

Sarah kissed the tip of her nose and covered her with a thin blanket. Then she squeezed into the narrow bed with her daughter, dodging half a dozen stuffed animals, a green dinosaur and a naked Barbie doll with wild hair.

“I know you’re not,” Sarah murmured. “But Mommy and Pooh are, so we’re all going to take a nap before we start supper. Now, you close your eyes and I’ll close mine, and before you know it, it’ll be time to wake up.”

“Let’s look at Kylie pictures!”

Sarah smiled. “Nope, we’ll look at the photo album later. It’s time to dream.” In only a few minutes, dark-lashed lids closed over blue eyes like her daddy’s, and Kylie was asleep.

Sarah felt her heart break.

Time to dream? If she ever slept again, her sleep would be filled with nightmares. One indiscretion. One terrible, wonderful mistake three years ago had given her the child she’d always wanted. But it had also given her the greatest fear she’d ever known. He would be living here now, seeing them at the market and church, bumping into them on the street.

He had a right to know. A man like Jake—who’d been raised by a rootless single mother then shuffled from foster home to foster home when she died—deserved to know he had a daughter. But if she told him, what then?

Even joint custody would be a horror, and it could happen, given the courts’ near-manic sympathy for fathers’ rights lately. Just last week, a friend of Sarah’s had lost a custody battle that should never have been decided in the father’s favor. If that happened, and Kylie was taken from her…

Sarah tried to contain her panic. Maybe they should leave—just pack up and move. It wouldn’t be easy to establish her catering business in another town, and her dad would miss them, as they would miss him. But he had friends, didn’t he? He and Judge Quinn were always doing something together.

Tears welled, and Sarah touched her forehead to her sleeping child’s. No, she couldn’t do that to her father. With her mother’s death still a raw ache after nearly two years, he depended on Sarah for love and support. But Kylie was another matter. Kylie’s laughter and kisses had become his lifeline. She couldn’t take that from him, just as she couldn’t deprive Kylie of the grandfather she adored.

Blinking back tears, Sarah slid her arm out from under Kylie’s neck, backed out of the bed below the protective side rail, then moved silently into the hall and closed the door to within a crack.

She would not cry, she told herself. She would not be a weak, blubbering wreck ever again. The last time she’d allowed that to happen, a lonely deputy sheriff on holiday to meet the brothers he’d never known had found her by Cotton Creek, and Kylie had been conceived.

She would pull herself together and tell herself she was overreacting. She would make the meatballs and sauce for the Tully girl’s nuptials and put some aside for tonight’s supper. She would not let Jake Russell’s threatening presence get to her. And she would not cry.

All right, she decided as her tears rolled, anyway, she would cry. But she would do it quietly.

Chapter 2

Keyed up and irked that he had to wait for oncoming traffic, Jake stopped the department’s white Jeep opposite Sarah’s house and waited for a battered red truck to go by. He was startled when the grizzled old man behind the wheel sent him a cold, hard look as he drove past.

“You have a nice day, too,” Jake muttered, wondering what he’d done to tick the man off already. Was the driver a fan of Comfort’s ousted ex-sheriff? Or had the official vehicle and Jake’s uniform made him wonder what Sarah had done to earn a visit from a lawman?

Easy answer, he thought, hitting the gas pedal and making a squealing left turn. She just might have given birth to his daughter.

Much of her pink Victorian home was hidden from the road by a thick stand of pines. Jake’s heart leapt as he left them behind and moved up the steep, paved driveway. Sarah was just descending the porch steps.

The instant she saw the car, her spine stiffened, and Jake knew their meeting wasn’t going to go well. But that knowledge didn’t prevent him from admiring her long tanned legs and cutoff denim shorts as she strode to the middle of the yard. A length of wide black plastic fluttered from her right hand, and a roll of silver duct tape circled her wrist, bracelet-style.

He swore as he realized what she was about to do, then cut the engine, got out and quickly crossed the lawn. By the time he reached her, she’d already draped the plastic over her sign and was fighting the wind to secure it to the post.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

“Why am I doing what?”

Damn, he hated it when people answered that way. He tried to count to ten—and made it to five. “If you’re closing because you don’t want to rent me a room, forget I even asked. I’m not going to make a big deal of your staying open. You have a child to support.”

“I don’t need the income from the bed-and-breakfast to support Kylie,” she returned, ripping off another piece of tape and slapping it on her sign. “And my closing has nothing to do with you.”

“After the talk I had with Maggie, that’s a little hard to believe.”

Sarah stopped moving, and her gaze widened accusingly. But there was hurt in her eyes, too. “You told Maggie about us?”

Sighing, Jake shook his head, feeling bad that he’d put her on the defensive. But if she thought that giving him attitude would scare him off, she was wrong. “I don’t kiss and tell, Sarah. My conversation with Maggie concerned my finding a room to rent. When I told her you were closing, she was surprised. She said she’d spoken to you recently, and you hadn’t mentioned it.”

With a cool look, she gathered the plastic together at the base of her sign, then ripped off another length of tape and wrapped it tightly. “I didn’t tell Maggie I’d just had my teeth cleaned, either, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Sliding the roll of tape back on her arm, she stared at him through wind-tossed bangs. “Why is my closing or not closing so important to you? We’re strangers.”

“If we were strangers, my showing up here this morning wouldn’t have rattled you the way it did. You’re not doing much better now. Why is that?”

“Why?” she repeated in an incredulous tone. “How can you even ask that question? Seeing you reminds me of something I did that I’m not very proud of, and I don’t want to be reminded of it. Maybe what happened between us was just another roll in the hay for you—”

“I told you it wasn’t.”

“—but I don’t sleep around.” Her white knit top had a scooped neckline, and her pulse hammered at the base of her throat. Inappropriate or not, Jake remembered kissing her there.

“The truth is,” she continued, “I’ve been thinking about closing for a while now. Your showing up just pushed my plans ahead a few months. I’m finding that I don’t have time to make meals and change sheets for guests anymore. My catering business is doing very well, and—and Kylie’s growing up fast. She deserves more time with me, and I need more time with her.”

Something in Jake softened. Whether she was his child or not, he was glad Sarah could work out of her home and give Kylie the attention and support she needed. He’d loved his mother, and in her way, he supposed Emily had loved him. But he’d always known he was third in line behind the current boyfriend and the next party. He hadn’t fared much better with the foster parents he’d stayed with after Emily had died. Kylie would never know that loneliness.

The low hum of an engine drew Jake’s attention, and he turned to see a car come up the driveway, squeeze past his Jeep and continue on to the far side of the house. It stopped in the small parking area assigned to guests.

The color drained from Sarah’s face as an older man got out of the car.

“We’re back, Mommy!” he called with a broad smile. “Safe and sound.” Then he opened the back door of his gray sedan and lifted Kylie out of her car seat.

Even as his heartbeat increased, Jake was startled to realize he’d been so involved with Sarah that he’d nearly forgotten Kylie was his main reason for coming back here. As she raced across the lawn to her mother, he fought to keep his features calm and controlled. Was Kylie his? Could she be?

“Hi, sweetheart,” Sarah said warmly, her voice shaking a little as she scooped her daughter into her arms. “Did you and Grandpa have a nice lunch at Aunt Ruby’s?”

“I had ice cweam!”

“I can see that,” Sarah replied. “It’s all over your shirt. We’ll have to change it before your nap.”

“Sorry,” the older man said, chuckling as he walked to them. “I should’ve asked Ruby for a bib. And before you yell at me, she had macaroni and cheese before the ice cream—I promise.”

“But more ice cream than macaroni, I’ll bet,” Sarah said, laughing. Her smile faded a little then, and after giving Jake a hesitant look, she put Kylie down. “Dad, this is Sheriff Russell. Sheriff, my father, Bill Malloy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jake said, and they clasped hands.

“Same here.”

Sarah’s father was a good-looking man in his late fifties, and aging well, despite the fair amount of gray in his dark hair and mustache. His choice of vehicles—a sedan—as well as his gray trousers and yellow knit shirt, suggested that he didn’t ranch or farm.

“So what do you think of our little town, Sheriff?”

“I like it. Hope I have the chance to stay for a while.”

“You’re talking about the November election,” Malloy guessed. “Well, just don’t tick off Ed Cooper at the paper or any of our local busybodies in the next couple of months, and you shouldn’t have a problem.”

“Thanks for the advice,” he answered, thinking about the old man in the red truck. “But it’s hard to know what annoys people until you get to know them.”

“In this town, it could be anything,” Malloy returned wryly. “No matter what you do, you’re bound to rub someone the wrong way.” His devoted gaze fell to Kylie. “Except for Kylie, here. She loves everybody.”

Malloy’s statement seemed to invite a conversation with his pretty little granddaughter, and Jake crouched down and smiled. She wore black shorts and a gray knit shirt with black sleeves and Mickey Mouse ears stitched to the hood hanging against her back. Or maybe they were Minnie Mouse ears. Suddenly everything this tiny girl wore, every move she made, every silky black hair above her blue eyes and animated baby face were vitally important to him.

“Hi, honey,” he said.

Lightning quick, Kylie speared his badge with her index finger. “That’s a star!”

Jake’s heart took off running, and he wondered how he’d lived this long without feeling this many emotions at once.

Sarah tugged Kylie back against her legs. “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “She gets rambunctious when she has too much sugar.”

“No, no, she’s fine,” Jake said, pushing to his feet.

“Let’s go to your house and pway!” Kylie piped up, and Jake wasn’t sure what to say. For starters, he didn’t have a house. But, by God, if Kylie was his, he’d find one.

“Dad?” Sarah said, looking pale again. “Why don’t you take Kylie inside? I’ll be right in to change her shirt.”

For a second, Malloy stared curiously at his daughter. Then he shrugged, grinned and scooped Kylie into his arms. “Sure. We’ll have a cup of coffee while we wait, won’t we, cupcake?”

“Dad—”

“Okay,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll have milk.”

When they’d disappeared inside, Sarah mustered a wobbly grin and sighed. “He spoils her rotten.”

“He probably can’t help himself. She’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Sarah glanced toward the door, a troubled look still clouding her eyes. “I’d better go. Dad can’t say no to her, and if he’s drinking coffee, she’s stealing sips. Between the sugar and the caffeine…well, you know.”

But Jake wasn’t thinking of sugar and caffeine; he was studying Sarah’s classic features again—her wide brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. Her sideswept bangs and shoulder-length blond hair.

He realized that his suspicions were still only that. But none of Sarah’s coloring had shown up in her daughter.

None of it.

Suddenly, every warning he’d given himself about taking his time and gaining her confidence deserted him. He had to know. His chest was on fire, and he had to know.

“Does her other grandfather spoil her, too?” he asked as she turned toward the house.

“What?”

He fell into step beside her. “You said your father spoils her. I asked if her other—”

“No, her other Grandpa passed away.”

“And by that, you mean your ex-husband’s father?” he persisted. Or did she mean his father? He’d told her that night that his dad had died before Jake had a chance to meet him.

Sarah moved faster through the grass. “My late husband’s father passed away, yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change my daughter.”

No, dammit, he wouldn’t excuse her. He’d come here looking for answers, and he wasn’t leaving until he got them. Kylie waved from the screen door, and a small voice cautioned, Don’t press your luck. But he couldn’t listen. Just one question. Maybe two.

“How old is she, Sarah?”

She started up the steps. “She’s two.”

“When will she be three?”

On the porch now, Sarah whirled on him, her dark eyes full of fire and fear. But was she afraid because a lingering conversation might tip her father off that they had a past, or because she was keeping a secret she didn’t want Jake to know?

“What is this?” she asked in a low, shaky voice. “An occupational hazard? Do you interrogate everyone you meet?”

Jake raised his hands and backed off. He’d pushed too hard. If Kylie was his daughter, he didn’t want to antagonize Sarah, because he wanted to be part of her life. If she wasn’t, he didn’t want to look like a fool. He’d already shared too much of himself with this woman, and the last thing he wanted was to look weak in her eyes. Though why he cared, he didn’t know.

The radio in the Jeep squawked loudly, and a distorted voice hailed him. Jake sent a frustrated look at the car. “No, I don’t interrogate everyone I meet. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I’d just like for us to be friends.”

The radio squawked again.

“Please…” he said, sidling away. “Just give me a minute to answer that, then we can finish talking. Okay?”

But by the time he’d reached through the window, grabbed the mike and looked up again, Sarah was gone and both front doors were closed. “Yeah, Maggie,” he said through a sigh. “What’s up?”

A cattle theft, that’s what was up. Two auction-ready steers were missing from the Wilson ranch. Jake drove out there and checked the cut fence line, then listened to Hap Wilson’s diatribe about shooting first and asking questions later if he found anyone near his stock again. Then Jake returned to the office without a shred of evidence, knowing that chances were, the people who’d taken Wilson’s cattle would never be found—not unless they made a habit of it and got sloppy.

It was close to five-thirty when Jake parked the Jeep in Sarah’s driveway again and got out. Three visits in one day made him feel more like a stalker than a man trying to get at the truth, but he couldn’t help himself.

Until this afternoon, all he’d had were suppositions. Now he had more. It wasn’t the most commendable thing he’d ever done, but a trip to the courthouse had told him that Kylie had been born on April 18.

April was nine months from July and the Founder’s Day celebration.

Quickly ascending the steps to the wraparound porch, Jake rang the bell, waited a moment, then jabbed it again. He could hear it chime inside the house, but there were no footsteps on their way to him, no high-pitched baby giggles and running feet. Still, he had a strong feeling that Sarah was inside.

For a second, he considered checking the garage in the back to see if her car was there. But he knew if Sarah saw him do it, it would make her even more wary and defensive.

He rang the bell again. And once more, all he got for his trouble was silence.

Frustrated, Jake pulled a hand over his face, then yanked off the Stetson that matched his uniform and tugged it back on. All right, he thought, descending the steps again. She’d won this round. But she couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Jus’ whisper?” Kylie murmured again.

Sarah nodded and kept her voice low. “Yes, baby, this is a funny game. We just whisper.” She was holding Kylie again and trying to keep her still, two rooms away from the long panes of glass fronting the porch. Sarah peered through the dining room’s slightly open French doors, into the parlor and finally through the lace shades and curtains. She exhaled in relief when the white Jeep did a two-point turn in her driveway, coasted down to the road and disappeared. Thank heaven she’d seen him pull in and had time to shut off the TV.

Three visits in one day? She didn’t know how, but somehow, Jake suspected that Kylie was his child. That second visit he’d paid on them had had nothing to do with his wanting them to be friends. Worse, his showing up here had drawn curious looks from her father, and she wasn’t ready to make explanations to him yet.

“Oh, sweetie,” she murmured. “What are we going to do?”

Feathery eyebrows dipped as Kylie seemed to consider her answer for a moment. Then she ventured, “Have cake?”

Despite the conflicting feelings of fear and attraction that still shivered through her, Sarah had to smile. “Good idea. We could both use some chocolate. But let’s have supper first.”

Only one person knew that Kylie’s father was a deputy sheriff from one of Montana’s northern counties—Sarah herself. She hadn’t even told her parents because she’d feared they’d track him down and demand that he “do the right thing.” Now, two nerve-racking days after Jake’s last visit, she was about to add another name to the list.

The bell over the door jangled as Sarah carried Kylie and a small tote bag full of toys into the noise and bustle of Aunt Ruby’s Café. As usual, the restaurant rang with country music, clanking silverware and the buzz of lunch-time diners. Sarah scanned the crowded tables and bright red booths, then moved forward.

Ruby Cayhill hadn’t been hard to spot. The elderly proprietress was the only person in the café under five feet, over seventy-five and wearing red high-top sneakers. The red cardigan topping her white uniform dress flapped around her skinny frame as she approached them. Though the tiny woman insisted that everyone call her Aunt Ruby, her only blood kin were the Dalton brothers who owned the Brokenstraw Ranch.

“Afternoon, Sarah,” she sang out, carrying two empty coffeepots toward the lunch counter. She grinned at Kylie. “Hi there, sweet pea. You look like a gal who’d like some French fries.”

Sarah managed a smile. “She sure would. It’s all she’s talked about since I told her where we were headed.” Falling into step with Ruby, Sarah glanced down at the hairnet capping the woman’s frizz of gray curls. “So how’s business?”

“Fine as frog hair.” Ruby cackled. Pale blue eyes twinkled behind her wire-rimmed spectacles. “Cash register’s been ringin’ since sunup.” Moving behind the counter, she rinsed the empty pots, then rigged the coffeemakers with fresh grounds and water.

“How’s everything on yer end of town?” she called over her shoulder.

Sarah sat on one of the red vinyl stools, then settled Kylie on her lap. “Not as fine as frog hair, but things are coming along.”

“Heard you shut down the bed-and-breakfast.”

Sarah smiled wryly. Why was she not surprised that Ruby already knew? “Who told you?”

“Who didn’t?” Ruby harrumphed. “You know this town better’n most.”

Yes, she did. Marrying Vince had made her the target of gossips for years. Kylie’s birth had given them even more to talk about. Sarah glanced around the room where rotating ceiling fans cooled too many customers who might overhear. “Actually,” she said, softening her voice, “that’s what I’d like to talk about. When you have time.”

Ruby paused for an instant, then clicked on the coffee-makers and turned from her task. “Got time right now. Will you be wantin’ lunch?”

Sarah shook her head. “Just French fries and apple juice for Kylie.”

Motioning for Sarah to follow, Ruby grabbed a booster seat and strode to a back booth, calling the order to one of her waitresses. “And bring us two cups of regular,” she added.

But once there, Sarah put Kylie in the booth with her toys, and she and Ruby took seats at the adjacent table. Sarah didn’t want Kylie overhearing their conversation.

When Kylie was engrossed in her French fries and happily humming along to the nursery rhymes coming from her “boom box,” Sarah met Ruby’s gaze over their coffee cups.

Some days, Ruby Cayhill was as no-nonsense and brittle as a pan of rock candy. But she had one of the warmest hearts and truest stares Sarah had ever known. She’d always been a good friend. Since her mother’s death, Sarah had come to depend on Ruby’s counsel even more.

“Thank you, Aunt Ruby.”

“Ain’t done nothin’ yet, honey. What’s the trouble?”

Sarah drew a fortifying breath. Whoever said that confession was good for the soul had exaggerated badly. “It’s the new sheriff.”

“The sheriff?” Ruby chuckled, and her pale eyes lit with mischief. “From what I’ve seen, he’s no trouble a-tall. Takes all his meals here, and the women can’t keep their eyes off him. That young fella’s been dang good fer business.”

“Has…has he been in today?”

“Not thirty minutes ago.”

Good. Then he wouldn’t be walking in while she and Kylie were here. Sarah stirred cream into her coffee and watched Ruby bring her cup to her lips. There was no point in sugarcoating the announcement. She might just as well spit it out. “I slept with him, Aunt Ruby.”

Coffee sloshed over the rim as Ruby clattered her cup back into her saucer. After a moment, she took several napkins from the chrome dispenser and mopped up the spill. “Well, I’m no expert on such things, but if that’s what you call trouble—”

“It was three years ago,” Sarah continued quietly. “Right after that horrible mess with Vince. Jake is Kylie’s father.”

Periodically checking on Kylie, she told Ruby all of it—how she’d been crying, tired of people whispering behind their hands about her, hating their pitying looks. Then how Jake had found her like that, and he’d been just as low as she was.

“So, mutual commiserating became something else,” Sarah concluded. “Now…” She smiled tightly, but with love, as she watched Kylie triple-dip a mangled French fry in the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Now I have a precious little daughter.”

“Does he know?”

“He suspects. And he deserves to know, but I’m afraid to tell him. You remember Betsy Chappell, don’t you?”

“Moved up to Helena a while back.”

Sarah nodded. “I saw her last week when I was there helping my aunt Vera after her back surgery. Betsy just lost a custody battle with her baby’s father. He was married, and when he went back to his wife, Betsy had some emotional problems. Unfortunately, the man’s a respected doctor with influential friends. Now he and his wife are raising Betsy’s son.”

Ruby’s sober gaze studied Kylie. “Afraid the sheriff’ll git himself a lawyer?”

Sarah nodded again. “He never knew his father, and he was raised by a single mother with a gypsy life-style. After she died, he spent some time in foster homes. Aunt Ruby, this man has wanted a real family all of his life. Yes, I’m afraid he’ll get a lawyer.”

“More dip-its, Mommy?”

Sarah rose to squirt more ketchup on Kylie’s plate, then returned to her seat. “I can’t lose her. Even joint custody would be a horror.” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “He’s a stranger,” she murmured. “How can I tell him he has a daughter when I don’t know anything about him?”

Ruby chewed her lower lip for a time, then settled her gaze on Sarah’s. “First off, I don’t think you’ll lose her. But Lord knows I been wrong before. Once when I voted fer Cy Farrell, who turned out to be a low-down skunk, and once when I swore up and down I could raise watermelons.

“That said, I think he’s a decent sort. No fella without a conscience woulda stopped to make sure you were okay that night. Plus, he’s been here twice a day since he arrived, and I’ve watched him close. After the last fool we had wearin’ a badge in this town, I need t’ be sure this fella deserves my vote come November. If he keeps up the way he’s goin’, he’s got it.”

“So what do I do?” Sarah asked. “What would you do?”

“Think on it some, I reckon. Trust that the Lord knows what He’s doin’, bringin’ Jake Russell to this town. I’m fresh out of magic wands, Sarah. If I’d had any years ago, I’da zapped that cheatin’ husband of yers clear to Jupiter. Best I kin do fer you right now is offer you a piece of apple pie and freshen that cold coffee in front of you.”

“Thanks,” she said through a sigh. “But I—” Sarah stopped abruptly as the door opened, and Jake walked inside. To her shock and mortification, her skin began to tingle and warm, and a disconcerting airiness wafted through her stomach.

He was a light that dimmed every other man in the room—ruggedly handsome and well-built in a tan uniform that fit nearly as well as his jeans did. Removing his Stetson, he crossed to the lunch counter to speak to Jeannie Baker, the waitress who’d brought their order. Instantly, the girl’s posture was better, her smile brighter and her attention rapt.

“I thought you said the sheriff had already been here,” Sarah said nervously, irrationally bothered by Jeannie’s interest.

Ruby turned to peek toward the front of the café. “Could be he changed his mind about dessert.”

Oh, please, don’t let it be that, Sarah prayed, staring into her coffee cup.

“Nope,” Ruby continued. “He ain’t sittin’ down. Looks like he’s handin’ Jeannie one of them lunch vouchers. Must be holdin’ somebody over at the jail.”

Slowly, Sarah ventured a look. But Jake chose the same moment to scan the room, and Sarah felt her face flood with heat as their gazes met and locked.

At the front of the café, Jake frowned thoughtfully as Sarah jerked her gaze from his. He’d been racking his brain for two days trying to think of a way to reestablish some sort of friendship with her. He’d really screwed up, pressuring her the way he had.

Now, as he considered his next stop, he wondered if a partial solution to his problem might be in his shirt pocket. He’d planned to ask a salesclerk for help. But talking to Sarah about something that had nothing to do with Kylie might just ease some of her insecurities where he was concerned, and pave the way to some honest conversation.

He didn’t want to resort to demanding a paternity test.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Jeannie,” he told the waitress. Then he walked back to Sarah’s table with a smile for all three of them.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said. He tried not to focus on Kylie, but it was difficult. His heart wanted to look.

“Sheriff,” Sarah murmured.

“My name is Jake, Sarah,” he said pointedly.

With a smile that lit her whole face, Kylie scrambled to her feet in the booster chair and teetered precariously. “Hi, Jake! Want a fench fwy?”

Adrenaline shot through him. Before Jake could lunge for Kylie, Sarah sprang from her chair and sat Kylie back down. He blew out a relieved breath as she scolded her daughter softly, then shook his head at Ruby.

“Kids,” Ruby chuckled, levering herself out of her seat. “As fer them fries, from the looks of ’em, you’d be happier with pie.”

Jake chuckled, too. “Thanks, but I’m still full of stuffed peppers.”

“Then I’ll git you some pie to take along. Yer too skinny. Wouldn’t take a good wind long to blow you clear to Livingston.” She started away at a brisk clip. “While I’m at it, I’ll git a washcloth for our little honey-girl.”

“That’s okay,” Sarah called, and Jake could hear a hint of alarm in her voice. “I’ll just take her to the ladies’ room. Aunt Ruby? I think the sheriff wants to talk to you.” But Ruby was too far away to hear.

“Actually,” Jake said, sliding into the booth across from her and setting his hat beside him. “It’s you I want to talk to, Sarah.”

Chapter 3

With her nerves bouncing around like jumping beans, it was difficult for Sarah to keep her features composed. The last time this man said he wanted to talk, she’d had a home she could escape to. Now she was trapped.

Lifting Kylie out of the booster seat, she grabbed a napkin and mopped the worst of the ketchup from her daughter’s hands and face. Then she sent Kylie running to Aunt Ruby so she could finish the job with a washcloth.

Sarah brought her gaze back to Jake. He looked disappointed that she’d sent their daughter away, but that’s the way it had to be. She wanted to know him a lot better before he spent more time with Kylie.

“You wanted to talk?” she reminded him. Scooping up Kylie’s toys, Sarah stuffed them into the tote bag, glad to have something to do with her hands.

“Yes,” he said, adding building blocks to her tote. “I need a favor.”

Sarah glanced up in surprise.

“I didn’t plan on asking you until I saw you sitting back here,” he added.

“What kind of favor?” she asked warily.

“I picked up a young runaway a few minutes ago—barely fifteen. Her idiot boyfriend dumped her outside of town. Jeannie’s putting together a lunch for her, but all the girl has are the clothes on her back, and they’re in bad shape. She needs something decent to wear.”

Then…this conversation wasn’t about Kylie? Were all of his questions the other day idle curiosity, and not the threat she’d thought them to be? Had she overreacted?

“Maggie’s helping her get cleaned up and giving her the standard orange jumpsuit for now, but the girl’s parents are on their way. She shouldn’t have to face her folks dressed like a criminal.”

Finally seeing where this conversation was headed, Sarah hid an enormous sigh of relief and nodded in complete agreement. “No. No, she shouldn’t. If we’re about the same size, I’m sure there’s something in my closet—”

“Thanks, but all I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time. I need someone to shop for her.”

He took a sheet of paper from his breast pocket and unfolded it on the table. And without warning, the detailed signet ring he wore on his strong, capable right hand sparked a memory that brought a flush to Sarah’s face. In his haste to be rid of her panties that night, his ring had caught on them and they’d torn. But she hadn’t cared…and Jake hadn’t known.

Sarah pushed away the image and jerked her attention back to his face. But in glancing up so quickly, she caught a flash of heat in his eyes—something he obviously hadn’t intended her to see—and she swallowed. Was this the way chemistry worked? she wondered. One lover had a thought…and the other automatically received it?

Clearing his throat, Jake got back to business. “Maggie listed the sizes for me, but shopping for a young girl isn’t my strong suit. Would you mind? Maggie’s not feeling well today, or she’d do it.”

Nerves still thrumming, Sarah nodded. Like Kylie, this young girl had once been some mother’s toddler, some mother’s joy. Sarah hoped that if Kylie ever needed help someone would step in for her. But after buying the clothing, she’d have to deliver them, and that made her uneasy. They didn’t need more contact with these disturbing undercurrents between them.

Jake stood and pulled several bills from his wallet.

“You’re taking care of this?” she asked. “You personally?”

“Yep.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because she’s a nice girl beneath the attitude, and she needs them.” He handed her the money. “Try to find her something soft-looking.”

Sarah tingled as his gaze fell to the light pink sweater that topped her jeans, then lingered a bit longer than necessary.

“Something like you’re wearing,” he continued. “It has to dull the impact of a dyed-black Mohawk and a dozen earrings.”

Jeannie called to him from the lunch counter and raised a take-out bag, and Jake called back that he’d be right there.

He swept back his hair and tugged his hat on. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and Sarah felt that tingle again.

“Glad to help.”

Just then, Kylie raced back to them and hurled herself onto Sarah’s lap. Her face was clean and glowing, and looking at her brought back the anxiety Sarah had momentarily forgotten. Who wouldn’t want this child for his own?

“We won’t be long,” she said, standing and taking Kylie’s hand. “We’ll drop the clothes off at your office.”

“Great,” he said, then bent down to grin at Kylie and tap her nose with his fingertip. “Bye-bye, funny face.”

Giggling, she jabbed a tiny finger right back at him. “You’re a funny face!”

Sarah’s heart nearly stopped. Then to her relief, Kylie’s father waved, collected his order and left.

She didn’t move again until she was sure he’d stepped off the wooden boardwalk outside and headed for his office. Then she reclaimed Kylie’s hand, paid her bill and left, conflicting emotions stirring her up again.

On one hand, that silly, nose-tapping moment was a frightening thing. On the other, she’d just watched Kylie interact with her daddy, and it had evoked feelings of tenderness and warmth she’d never expected.

She would tell him. As soon as she was absolutely certain that Jake Russell was father material, she would tell him.

But what would he do with that knowledge? she wondered.

She wondered something else, too, as they walked the boardwalk, passing restored 1890s storefronts and stone buildings that recalled Comfort’s early days as a booming gold and cattle town.

She wondered about his generosity in paying for the girl’s clothes. She’d learned some things about him the night he’d let his guard down…the night they’d made love. In some respects, she knew more about Jake than she’d known about her own husband. Certainly, Vince had never opened up to her emotionally. Was helping a young girl Jake’s way of repaying a kindness done to him when Jake was the young runaway?

Or had there been no one there for Jake…and he wouldn’t see another child do without the things he’d needed?

When she arrived at the jail thirty minutes later, Sarah hoped that Maggie Dalton would be the one to greet her. Just approaching the door had made her anxious again. But it was Jake who stepped out from his private office as she entered. And Sarah was helpless to stop the shivery attraction that raced through her. He wasn’t just good-looking. Jake Russell was everything it meant to be heart-stoppingly, breathtakingly male.

“Did you lose your little helper?” he asked, taking the package she offered.

“Just for a while,” Sarah replied, faintly guarded again. “She ate most of her lunch, so I told Ruby she could have ice cream.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly—just more recently accomplished than he had to know. The closer they’d come to the sheriff’s office, the less inclined Sarah was to bring Kylie with her. “Your change is in an envelope inside the bag.”

“Thanks.” Jake fished out the envelope. “Can I ask one more favor?”

“I guess.”

“Would you mind delivering the clothes? Maggie’s in the lockup with her, and I think there’s some girl talk going on. They’re in the last cell.”

Sarah felt her jaw drop. “You locked up a fifteen-year-old girl?”

“No,” he answered, his brow creasing in annoyance. “She needed some privacy, and I gave it to her. Why are you always so quick to believe the worst of me?”

Shamed, Sarah met his eyes in apology. Before she could make amends, the door to the lockup flew open and crashed against the wall. Maggie rushed out, holding a hand over her mouth and heading for the rear of the office. A second later, a thin teenager with a terrified expression came out after her.

The girl’s defiant green eyes shot to Jake. “I didn’t do anything! We were talking, and she just jumped up and ran!”

Sighing, Jake shook his head and went to her, his rangy frame dwarfing hers. She looked waif-thin in the baggy orange jumpsuit. “I know you didn’t do anything. Maggie’s just a little under the weather today. Come on, I want you to meet someone.”

The girl obviously had no interest in being cordial. Nevertheless, she let Jake nudge her to the dispatcher’s desk where Sarah waited. “Lisa, this is Sarah Harper. Sarah picked up some clothes for you. Sarah, Lisa Sheldon.”

The girl’s belligerent gaze never left Sarah’s face, though she spoke only to Jake. “Why would she want to buy me clothes? She doesn’t know me.”

Sarah extended the bag. “The sheriff paid for them, Lisa. I just picked them out. Maggie gave him your sizes.”

She cut a look at Jake. “Yeah, well I can’t pay you back. Bryan took all of my money.”

“I’m not asking you to repay me.” Sarah didn’t miss the brief chill in his eyes that said “Bryan” wasn’t one of his favorite people. “I just want you to look nice when your mom and dad get here.”

“Oh, I’ll look lovely.” Without mousse or gel, her hair parted in the center and hung on either side of her shaved scalp. “They’ll kill me when they see this.”

“I doubt that,” Jake replied.

“You don’t know them.”

“I know your mom cried when I told her you were safe. Give them a break. These past two months haven’t been a cakewalk for them, either.”

The girl was silent for a moment, then she said, “My mom cried? Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, how about trying on your new duds?”

When Lisa had disappeared into the lockup, Sarah’s gaze returned to Jake. His treatment of the young girl had touched her. There’d been no coddling or threats—just kind, straight talk. Now, more than ever, she owed him that apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said before. I had no right to make assumptions like that.”

Jake nodded grimly. “We only know each other in one way, Sarah. I’m more than what you see.”

More? If he were any more than what she saw, she’d be running right now. Without his hat to keep them back, a few strands of black hair fell over his forehead, softening his craggy good looks and calling her attention to his deep blue eyes and tanned cheekbones. Below that was a perfect mouth and teeth, and just enough beard shadow to make her remember its sexy scratch against her skin. The man was a mating song in boots.

“Have coffee with me sometime,” he persisted, keeping his voice low. “Let me prove it. I’m not looking for anything more than friendship and conversation.” But the memories swirling through his eyes seemed to belie his words.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?

“Because it was friendship and conversation that got us into trouble three years ago,” she returned.

“That was different. That was comfort and support.”

“No, it was sex. And you and I both know that once you cross a line, it’s too easy to cross it again. I don’t want that.”

The toilet flushed, reminding them that they weren’t alone, and though Jake’s gaze hardened, he didn’t reply. Possibly because he knew the conversation had gone as far as it could go. A second later, Maggie came out of the rest room looking pale.

Some friend she was, Sarah thought. Just looking at Jake had blown everything out of her mind except him, including Maggie’s illness.

His voice lowered in concern when she joined them. “You all right, Maggie?”

“No, but I’m better.”

“Sure you don’t want to go home?”

“Not yet,” she said, working up a smile. “Let’s see if it gets better.” She turned to Sarah. “Hi. What brings you in?”

“Shopping,” Sarah answered, smiling. “I bought the clothes for your young guest.”

“Oh?” Maggie looked at Jake. “I thought you were giving the list to one of the salesclerks.”

His features froze for a moment, then he answered. “I was, until I ran into Sarah. The salesclerks at Hardy’s are nice, but they’re all older. I figured a younger woman would pick out something more appropriate.” He frowned and glanced at his watch. “Excuse me? I need to make a phone call.” A moment later, he was gone.

Sarah held back a sigh. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or disappointed. But she couldn’t have answered him any other way.

She spoke to Maggie, who’d taken a seat at the dispatcher’s desk. “Are you okay?”

With a humorous twist of her mouth, Maggie reached into a low drawer and produced a long tube of crackers. “Actually, I think I might be a whole lot better than okay.”

“How nice!” Sarah said with a smile, recognizing the signs.

“I haven’t seen a doctor yet, but I’m pretty sure. Got any room left in your quilting class at the Grange hall? I think it’s time I learned which end of a needle to thread.”

“You bet. When’s the baby due?”

“March, I think.” Maggie’s grin spread. “Ross and I were planning to wait to start a family, but it looks like we had a head start on this little one before the wedding.”

“Does the sheriff know?”

“Not yet, but I have to tell him. I hate leaving him high and dry, but I can’t stay on. Ross and I talked. Comfort’s hardly crime-ridden, but things do happen occasionally, and I won’t risk my pregnancy.”

“I’d feel the same way,” Sarah agreed. “Have you picked out names yet, or is it still too early?”

“It’s still too—” With a frantic look, Maggie shot to her feet again. Seconds later, she was back in the rest room, leaving Sarah to sympathize and remember her own morning sickness. The morning sickness she’d gone through alone.

When she picked up Kylie several minutes later, she felt good about Lisa Sheldon’s future, yet faintly uneasy about Jake’s distant behavior. Which made no sense to her at all, since she’d practically asked him to keep his distance.

Why did she feel she’d let him down? Was it reflected guilt? Did she subconsciously feel that withholding the truth about Kylie from him entitled Jake to something else?

Sarah put Kylie into her car seat and climbed behind the wheel. The man scrambled her mind and made every nerve in her body vibrate. If she slept tonight, it would be a miracle.

Tossing and turning, kicking the covers to the foot of the bed, Jake cursed a blue streak and tried to find a comfortable position on the lumpy mattress. He couldn’t believe he was paying someone to stay here. A bedroll on concrete would’ve been more humane. Every few seconds, the Twirling Spur’s neon cowboy boot flashed under the too-short drapes, striping the carpet with fluorescent orange, and adding to his misery.

Vaulting from the bed, he snatched the alarm clock from the nightstand. Three-forty? Could that be right? He plunked it back down and pulled his hands over his whiskery face. Between the bed, the boot and fantasies about Sarah Harper, he didn’t have a prayer of getting any more sleep tonight. Not a prayer.

But, he thought hopefully after a moment, there was a foldaway cot in his office, and if Deputy Joe Talbot wasn’t in it, he might be able to sleep for an hour or two before his shift started at seven. If not…well, he could review applications for a deputy to replace Maggie. She’d phoned him earlier in the evening to tell him about her pregnancy.

Orange light flashed across his bare feet.

And flashed.

And flashed.

And flashed.

Jake clenched his teeth and headed for the shower, masochistically picturing the comfortable beds Sarah had to have in her pink house.

By the time he’d swung his Mountaineer into his parking space, doused his headlights and hailed Joe Talbot, who was just pulling away from the office, Jake’s mood hadn’t improved much. Probably because he’d had to drive past Sarah’s home with its welcoming glow and pretty candle-lights in the windows.

His burly blond deputy called to him through the Jeep’s open window. “Something going on?”

“No,” Jake returned with a rueful smile. “Just can’t sleep.”

“Still no rooms in the paper?”

“A few houses for sale, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Well, the cot’s free,” Joe called with a sympathetic grin, and eased off the brake. “I’m just making rounds. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“See you then.” With a wave to Joe, Jake got out, unlocked the door and let himself inside. He wasn’t on the cot long when a ridiculous thought that wouldn’t go away had him calling himself an idiot and rolling to his feet again.

Jake tore through the files behind the desk out front, found nothing, then berating himself even more, went to the back room where old files were stored. He’d never done anything like this before. It was stupid, and sappy and sophomoric. But he couldn’t stop himself.

A few minutes later, he was staring hard at the police photo in his hand. What in hell had Sarah ever seen in this guy?

The cocky grin and pretty-boy features that stared back at him reminded Jake of the young studs the girls from his old high school used to go nuts over. Lots of rock-band hair and more brass than the New York Philharmonic.

He scanned the accompanying description. Vincent Charles Harper had been a white male, five foot eleven, with sandy brown hair, no distinguishing marks and…

And information he hadn’t even been looking for jumped out at him. Brown eyes.

Jake’s heart broke into a full gallop. Slowly, he slid the file back into the cabinet.

He remembered enough about a genetics class he’d taken in college to know that two brown-eyed parents could still have a blue-eyed child. But at the same time, Kylie had his coloring and had been born nine months after he’d been with Sarah. That was just too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence.

Kylie Harper was his daughter.

The wind kicked him full in the face that evening as Jake took Blackjack on a flat-out run across the long, pale pasture, inhaling the energy around him and letting the stallion’s hoofbeats drum out the nagging thoughts in his head. Chokecherries, pines and golden aspens blurred in his side vision. The cloudless blue sky above all but disappeared. They didn’t slow down until they’d gone nearly as far as wooden posts and barbed wire would permit. Then Jake reined the horse in and eased him into a blowing, cooling-down walk.

He couldn’t yet see the big white main house where Jess and Casey Dalton lived with their little daughter. But corrals and outbuildings lay ahead, and to his far right, a row of pines marked the long access road to the ranch.

Jake frowned as he pointed Blackjack toward it and the barn beyond, realizing that the ride had given him only a temporary respite from his tension. He was as churned up now as he’d been this morning when he’d read Vince Harper’s description.

He was almost to the road when two riders cut through the trees on horseback.

With a jolt, Jake recognized Sarah and Maggie Dalton, both astride chestnut mounts with white blazes.

“Jake! Hi!” Maggie called as they rode toward him. Both women were dressed in jeans and boots, but while Maggie wore a navy blue sweatshirt, Sarah wore a faded denim jacket over her white blouse. Both collars were up and her top two buttons were undone, creating a deep V from her long, smooth neck to the top of her chest. She rode well.

“Hello,” Sarah said with a cautious smile.

Jake smiled back and returned the greeting, thinking that she was probably wondering if he was still irritated because she’d refused his invitation to have coffee. Well, yes, he was. He was also irritated because he was sleeping on a medieval rack, acting like a jealous kid because of her, and being kept in the dark about the daughter he knew was his.

But this was another opportunity to smooth the friction between them and gain her trust, and he wasn’t going to get impatient this time and blow it.

“Starting your ride or finishing?” Maggie asked.

“Finishing. I was just heading back.” He relaxed in the saddle, looping his reins around the saddle horn. Underneath, his blood pumped hard. “Nice day.”

“And if you believe the forecasters,” Maggie said, “tomorrow could be even better. I was supposed to ride with Ross, but he apparently got busy so I invited Sarah to join me.” She laughed. “She brought me an instruction sheet. I’m going to attempt to make a quilt.”

“You’ll do fine,” Jake said, then remembered their phone conversation last night. “Should you be riding?”

“According to Doc, I can do anything I normally did.” She shrugged. “I’ve always ridden. Now that I know about the baby, I’ll take it a lot easier, though.”

“That’s good.” A flock of noisy blackbirds sailed past them and landed some distance away in a field of winter oats. Jake gave them a cursory glance before continuing. “How would you feel about staying on for a while?” he asked. “Not as a deputy, but as the office manager. I never did get around to considering anyone for the position. Joe’s agreed to work full-time, and I’ll hire a part-timer to take his place.”

Maggie broke into a beaming smile. “I’d love it. Until the baby comes, there really isn’t much to keep me occupied.” She turned to include Sarah in the conversation. “Except quilting, if I can get the hang of it.”

“You will,” Sarah assured her.

“Wait, now,” Jake said. “Before you accept, see what Ross thinks.”

“Ross thinks I should be in a wheelchair with nurses attending me twenty-four hours a day. In fact, he doesn’t even want me riding. Which could be why he’s been ‘detained.’ He probably thought if he stayed away, I wouldn’t go.”

“Then maybe your staying on isn’t a good idea. I don’t want any trouble with your husband.” For a variety of reasons, Jake thought.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get used to the idea.”

Almost as though he’d been summoned, Ross cantered his buckskin-colored horse through the same section of lodgepole pines the women had emerged from, and rode toward them.

A feeling that was half-eagerness and half-vulnerability moved through Jake—the same knotted feeling he had whenever his path crossed Ross’s. It seemed to intensify out here with the Dalton homestead so near, and Brokenstraw cattle grazing in the distance.

Ross reined his horse in. He was a lean, fit, sandy-haired man, and sat tall in the saddle. Beneath his tan Stetson, his deep blue eyes were worried as he addressed his wife, but he tried to hide his disapproval behind a smile.

“Thought you were going to wait for me,” he said.

“Sorry, but it got late, and I didn’t want to waste the sunshine. We won’t have many more seventy-degree days.”

“I know, but…” Ross seemed to remember his manners then, and glanced at Sarah. “Nice to see you, Sarah.” His gaze slid to Jake, the smile flagging a little. “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Ross.” Jake couldn’t say if Ross’s reaction was personal, or if the man’s long history with the former sheriff had turned him off law enforcement in general. But there was always a hint of dislike in Ross’s eyes when they met. If it was personal, their relationship was destined to get even more strained when Ross learned who Jake was.

“Excuse us for a minute?” Ross asked. “Maggie and I need to talk about something.”

“Sure,” Sarah said.

“No problem,” Jake returned at the same time. He didn’t mind at all. He’d been looking forward to getting Sarah alone.

Still, Jake’s gaze followed the newlyweds as they rode their horses to a dying willow tree, as if some genetic link made it impossible for him to look away. Then Ross brought his horse alongside Maggie’s to kiss her, and common decency made Jake turn away.

He was shocked to see what could only be called longing in Sarah’s eyes when she, too, glanced away from the intimate scene.

Jealousy cut through him, stark and powerful. Was that yearning he’d seen in her eyes for Ross? Did Sarah have a thing for Maggie’s husband?

Without thinking it through, without weighing the consequences of his actions, Jake walked his horse closer to Sarah’s and stared into her expectant brown eyes. Then he asked, point-blank, “Is Kylie my daughter, Sarah?”