Книга - A Bachelor, A Boss And A Baby

A Bachelor, A Boss And A Baby
Rachel Lee


Not quite the assistant he was looking for. But maybe the one he needs…Diane Finch has a lot on her plate – a new job, and fostering a baby. Despite her fears, Diane’s new boss, Blaine Harrigan, seems as comfortable with babies as he is with engineering complex projects and he certainly seems to take to Diane, too!







Not quite the assistant he was looking for.

But maybe the one he needs...

Conard County’s new urban planner is juggling more than a job—she’s fostering her cousin’s baby, too. And Diane Finch isn’t sure how her boss, Blaine Harrigan, will take to her cuddly new assistant. But the Irishman’s as comfortable with babies as he is with engineering complex projects. And he certainly seems to take to Diane, too. Even if she’s got a secret she fears will keep her from love...forever.


RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times best-selling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.


Also by Rachel Lee (#u10f6d2f1-c966-5814-a628-f8975988af3a)

A Soldier in Conard County

A Conard County Courtship

A Conard County Homecoming

His Pregnant Courthouse Bride

An Unlikely Daddy

A Cowboy for Christmas

The Lawman Lassoes a Family

A Conard County Baby

Reuniting with the Rancher

Thanksgiving Daddy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


A Bachelor, a Boss and a Baby

Rachel Lee






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07763-7

A BACHELOR, A BOSS AND A BABY

© 2018 Susan Civil Brown

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover (#u1e4e6a81-39e0-52d5-b0d8-ed757e23af30)

Back Cover Text (#ube5d6781-2b75-5659-b317-6ab8c58fddb2)

About the Author (#u4b5e3ec0-084a-5746-9c1b-e7c1f8061a44)

Booklist (#u32b73007-07da-5324-9c7a-b8c636420536)

Title Page (#ua3246270-e73c-59a5-8be1-10add6f87916)

Copyright (#u2fca640a-47fe-5ee4-9f3e-640922f6741d)

Chapter One (#u2ce529d1-983a-5c23-a3d7-ff3ad6a75659)

Chapter Two (#ub5127f8a-dbb1-592a-8c61-3eff564d7003)

Chapter Three (#u98ebe39c-59a2-531e-b852-97a553687cc7)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u10f6d2f1-c966-5814-a628-f8975988af3a)

Blaine Harrigan might have been the most delighted man in all of Conard County when he heard that a new planning manager had been hired. For years now the position had been vacant, the comprehensive plan was at least ten years old and he’d been dealing with all the county engineering while aware that they needed to update the plan. And he needed someone between him and the planning boards, which were made up of city council and county commission members. A little conflict of interest didn’t make his job any easier, especially with an out-of-date plan that they overrode readily because it was so old.

When he heard they’d hired Diane Finch, he’d read over her résumé and given a huge sigh of relief. She looked competent and had great recommendations from her previous job in Des Moines. Better, she sounded more than capable of standing up with him to the so-called planning boards that had started looking more to their personal interests than what was best for the county and city.

Well, maybe she wouldn’t stand up with him at first, not with her job so new, and not until she learned the lay of the land. But a professional planner? She probably wouldn’t be keen to play along with ideas that could make her look bad or adversely affect her career.

What’s more, she had to be aware that the county and city couldn’t get useful grants without an updated plan and a planner to write the proposals and oversee performance.

He’d probably have to wait awhile for the ally to emerge regardless. That was all right with him. He’d been poking his finger into the dike to stop the rash of self-serving plans for over five years now.

More than once he’d considered looking for another job, but his Irish blood wouldn’t let him run from a fight. Besides, he’d grown fond of Conard County, different in so many ways from Galway, where he’d grown up. Life had brought him here, and while he’d always be homesick for the beauties of Galway, he found different beauty here in the mountains and rolling prairie. He’d also found a place he was willing to defend and maybe sink some permanent roots.

With that random assortment of thoughts rolling around in his head, he strolled through the basement hallways in the courthouse, heading to the rooms that belonged to the planner. Diane Finch, according to the grapevine, had arrived early this morning, and for some reason the court clerks and the many city and county employees who filled the offices down here had been looking rather amused and whispering quite a bit.

He wanted to know what was going on. Was she a golden-scaled dragon or something?

Painting a smile on his face, he knocked briefly on the closed door and entered, ready to meet the woman he hoped would work with him. The sound that came through the door should have warned him, but since it shouldn’t be there, he’d assumed it was drifting down from the floor above.

He froze in astonishment as he stepped in. The unlikeliest of sights greeted him.

A lovely young woman with golden-blond hair, wearing what appeared to be a gray slacks suit, stood at a bare desk with a baby on it. She appeared to be busy trying to put a fresh diaper on the squalling, struggling bundle of pink bottom and pulled-up yellow cloth. The golden eyes that rose in surprise to look at him also appeared almost frantic.

Questions could come later, he decided in an instant. Swiftly closing the door behind him, he asked, “Need a little help there?” His brogue, so carefully erased, somehow pushed its way through.

“You’ve got kids?” she asked almost plaintively.

“I helped raise me five brothers and sisters. You’re new at this?”

“Very,” she admitted.

Without any hesitation, he rounded her desk and nudged her aside a bit. “I’m used to cloth diapers,” he remarked, holding the baby safely with a big hand placed gently on her tummy. The little bottom didn’t look irritated, so he just went about grabbing a wipe from an open container beside a disposable diaper at the corner of the desk. He cleaned the tot quickly before opening the fresh diaper with one hand and placing it on the little girl. Despite the child’s wildly waving arms and legs, it only took a few seconds, then he had her diapered and dry. Pulling down her onesie, he fastened the snaps easily.

Instead of quieting, the baby continued to cry.

“She been fed?” he asked.

“Just.”

“Ah.” Without another word he picked the child up and placed her on his shoulder, not caring he was probably going to need a fresh shirt after this. “Hush, little treasure,” he murmured, gently patting and rubbing her back with practiced ease while pacing the small office. After he took about a dozen steps back and forth, the babe’s fist found its way to her mouth and she quieted. Moments after that a small burp escaped her.

“There we go,” Blaine said, “but it’s probably not the last. You mind?”

She sank into the chair behind the desk and gave him a crooked smile. “Not at all. I’m so totally new to this I’m learning everything the hard way.”

“No prior practice, then?”

She shook her head. “Daphne is my cousin’s child. She’s in the hospital and I’m fostering. I thought it would be easy.”

Blaine allowed a quiet chuckle to escape him. “It’s not hard. You probably need to worry a whole lot less. Unless the tot is sick, what it most needs is love, food and a clean nappy. Simple. And it will all go a lot easier when you relax.”

She looked askance.

“She feels your nervousness, so she gets uneasy. By the way, I take it you’re Diane Finch?”

She nodded. “And you’re...?”

“County engineer. Blaine Harrigan. Do the bosses know you’ve got company?”

“You mean Daphne? No. I was hoping I could find decent day care when I arrived in town. That certainly isn’t as easy as I thought. I’m also learning I have a lot of qualms about leaving her with someone I don’t know.” She sighed and drummed her fingers briefly on the arms of her chair. “This is going to cost me my job, isn’t it?”

“Bringing the baby to work? I suppose it could. I also suppose I could help you batter the bosses down. It’s only temporary, after all.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “That’s a nice offer, Mr. Harrigan, but I’m very much afraid this isn’t going to be temporary. At least not the part where I foster Daphne. I should get some kind of day care sorted out, though.”

“Then we’ll start with that,” he said. Now he had a sleeping child on his shoulder and he was reluctant to put her down in the car seat in the corner. He also wanted to know what had happened to bring Diane Finch to the point of taking care of her cousin’s baby indefinitely when she was obviously so unprepared for the task.

She was a beautiful woman, all right. He couldn’t help but notice the way that satiny blouse caressed her breasts when she moved and her jacket fell open. Nice shape, adorable face and what appeared to be natural blond hair. Attractive like a flower to a bee. Not the time to be thinking such things, boyo, he told himself.

But now he was also seriously intrigued. “So, how did you come to be a foster mother?”

Her face closed a bit. “My cousin is seriously ill. She can’t care for Daphne and probably won’t be able to for a long time. That left me or putting her in the foster care system. Maybe for adoption, although my cousin...” She broke off. “Anyway, it’s me and Daphne for as long as she needs me.”

That raised more questions than it answered, but he let it go. She didn’t know him from Adam, and this was very personal ground. There were few secrets in Conard County because most people knew each other, but Diane was new and she was probably going to face a lot of prying. He well remembered how he’d been questioned. A new face always drew attention. He didn’t need to add to it.

But he had to admit to feeling some admiration for a woman who’d foster her cousin’s baby while starting a new job. Not many would want the combination, he was certain. And Diane, by all appearances, was very new to this baby thing. He wondered if she’d find it presumptuous if he offered to help. Probably. Talk about sticking his nose in the tent.

* * *

Bemused, Diane watched the tall, muscular man holding tiny Daphne on his shoulder with such ease and calm. Daphne had come to her care only four days ago, when she’d been almost packed and ready to hit the road. Her cousin MaryJo, with whom she’d never been very close, had been committed indefinitely to a mental hospital with paranoid schizophrenia. Diane had been too busy the last couple of weeks to do more than to peek in on MaryJo and her new baby, and hear how sick she had become. The three-month-old Daphne had barely entered her consciousness until the social worker had told her that Daphne would have to go into long-term foster care because MaryJo couldn’t possibly be a safe caretaker.

The instant she heard the words foster care, Daphne had loomed large on her radar, far larger than her poor cousin. Diane simply could not let that darling baby go to strangers, and the social worker also pointed out that MaryJo was too mentally ill to legally put the child up for adoption.

Adoption?

There wasn’t even a father to turn to. Whoever he’d been, he was apparently long gone.

Adoption? No.

The last days had turned into a whirlwind of packing, signing papers, gaining permission to take the child to her new job, getting baby supplies and a travel bed—oh, yeah, and a car seat—then Daphne had been delivered into her care.

Diane had never doubted that this was right thing to do, but it had all landed on her like a train wreck, and she was still figuring out how to handle everything. Most especially how to care for the baby. She didn’t have siblings, and she’d never watched anyone else’s kids because she’d been too busy with an after-school job at a local law office. What did she know about kids?

Only that she couldn’t let Daphne wind up in the foster care system. And part of her problem, as she’d discovered since she’d arrived in town two days ago, was that she didn’t want to leave the baby in anyone else’s hands, either. Most day care around here was in-home. The one early-learning center didn’t have an opening. Her reluctance to trust someone else with the baby’s care was likely to become a big issue.

So here she was, her first day on the job, with a baby. Yeah, she expected trouble, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t have begun to explain why she cared so much about a baby she’d only had for a few days, or why she was feeling so reluctant to put her in a stranger’s care while she worked.

Yet a stranger had just diapered Daphne with practiced ease and was now pacing slowly with the sleeping girl on his shoulder. Daphne was still tiny at three months, but Blaine Harrigan made her look minuscule.

He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved khaki work shirt and jeans. The last place she had worked, a polo shirt and slacks was as informal as it got. Apparently things were different here. He certainly looked like a man ready to work hard, a sharp contrast to the way he handled Daphne: easily, gently, yet confidently. She envied that confidence. She wished she could siphon off a gallon of it and put it in her veins.

Well, she’d get there eventually. She’d learned everything else she’d needed to in life. Usually. God, she hoped she wasn’t kidding herself and running headlong into a big failure.

“Are you looking forward to this job?” he asked her.

For the first time, she realized that his voice seemed to resonate from deep within his chest, below baritone but maybe not quite bass? An interesting, slightly rough sound. “I think so, yes. I know I was before life got out of hand.”

He smiled faintly. “This little one, you mean? Ah, she won’t be any trouble now. I was wondering, you worked in a larger city before. Why come to a small town?”

“The challenge,” she said. “An outdated comprehensive plan that needs to be rewritten, and that covers an entire county. I’ll have a lot of input. I’ve always wanted that.”

He hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but then resumed his gentle pacing, rubbing Daphne’s back all the while. “Did you visit first?”

“Of course. I came out for the interview. I’m surprised I didn’t meet you then.” And she was. They’d have to work closely together. She began to wonder how this place functioned.

“I was on vacation. I didn’t hear a thing about you until I got back.”

Okay, that was strange, she thought. Given his position, he should have had some say in her hiring. For the first time, she felt uneasiness about the job itself. Was there something going on here? But she couldn’t ask Harrigan, because he worked here, too. Until she had a read on everyone involved, asking questions could be dangerous. Wisdom dictated that she keep everything on a professional level.

Although that was already a limit she had broken, considering her infant cousin was riding on the shoulder of the county engineer. Very professional. Under other circumstances, she might have been amused. Starting a new job, not so much.

Then, for the first time, she really saw his face. Looked at it and took it in, and felt her stomach flutter. Dark, nearly black hair with blue eyes so bright the color was arresting. The rest of that face was great, too, squarish, a good chin, with fair, unblemished skin. His last name suggested he was Irish, as did a few hints in his pronunciation. He couldn’t have left the isle very long ago, she thought. Western sun and wind hadn’t kissed him for long.

Fortunately, Daphne made a small sound, drawing Diane’s attention before she stared at Blaine too long. Somebody should have warned her that a man holding an infant was more irresistible than one standing solo. She never would have dreamed. She watched as he pulled a visitor’s chair back from her desk and slowly lowered himself into it. The chair was springy, and he rocked gently.

Then she felt embarrassed. “Would you like me to take her back?”

He smiled over the baby’s head. “It’s been a while since I held a baby. I’m liking it.”

She felt her mouth frame a smile in return. She had to admit that this early into her new role as a mother, she was glad of a brief break. She’d had no idea that her patience wasn’t infinite, that she’d be losing a lot of sleep and that she could get frazzled by a baby’s persistent crying.

The new character insights didn’t exactly make her feel proud. Now she not only needed to deal with a job and the baby, but she needed to deal with herself, as well.

“So what brought you here, Blaine? I’m assuming you didn’t grow up here.” An assumption based on those faint traces of an accent.

“No, I grew up in Ireland, I did. Galway. I’m liking it quite a bit here, but missing my family.”

“You said a big family?”

“I’m one of six. The eldest.”

“That’s a big family,” she agreed.

He leaned back a little farther and crossed his legs loosely. Tight denim left no doubt that his lower half was built as well as his top half. Diane swallowed and dragged her gaze away.

After a bit, he spoke again. “You look tired. Not sleeping well?”

Finally she felt a bubble of real amusement, for the first time in days. She’d begun to wonder if she still had a sense of humor. “What do you think?” An attempted joke that might have sounded like a challenge, but his demeanor didn’t change. God, was she going to have to watch her tongue now, as well? Somehow she needed to get more sleep.

He nodded. “Babies are hard at first. It does get better, though. Just snatch your sleep whenever you can. So has anyone primed you for how things run around here?”

She sat up a little, fatigue forgotten. “What do I need to know?”

“Only that members of the city council and the county commission make up the county planning board. Two hats, you might say.”

She wanted to drop her head into her hands. In an instant she began to envision a skein of tangled relationships all knotted up with ego and personal aims. No real control on them at all, except for when they might get angry at one another. Why had they even wanted a planning manager?

Oh, yeah. They needed an updated comprehensive plan in order to apply for government grants. She was the path to get there. To be fair, however, her job always became political at some point. Money carried a lot of weight, and developers had enough of it to be persuasive.

She had hoped, however, that she might be little less boxed in here. Small population, for one thing, and no rapid growth for a while. Most of what was needed was bringing the plan up-to-date on new regulations from the state and federal government. Environmental regulations had increased dramatically...and there was seldom a way around them. She had that on her side, at least. Also, she needed to create a plan that would display a good future for the county and city, a good environment for the people as well as one that encouraged careful growth.

Still, it was bound to be tough, and even tougher when the cabal running matters was very small.

She kept her face smooth, however. She didn’t know Blaine Harrigan and didn’t dare express anything untoward. Now that she was here with her cousin’s baby in her care, she couldn’t afford to lose her job. To protect herself, she had to stay here at least a year, so she wouldn’t put a problem smack at the top of her résumé. Wonderful. She couldn’t afford a catastrophe.

“You get used to it,” he rumbled, gently patting Daphne’s back. “When are you supposed to meet with the gentlemen and lady?”

“Tomorrow evening. I hope by then I can find childcare. Do you know of anyone good?” she asked hopefully. If she had to choose someone, she’d rather they came with a recommendation.

A quiet laugh escaped him. The baby stirred a little and settled quickly. “I’m not in the way of having a family. But I have friends I can ask. I’ll call around today.” He rose slowly, taking care not to jar the baby. “I need to be off. I’ve got a meeting at ten a few miles out of town about a road repair. Might require some work on the culvert. I’d invite you but for the wee bit, here.”

“Oh.” A truncated pointless response, but she was holding her breath anyway as he slowly bent and placed Daphne in her car seat. To her relief, the child didn’t wake.

“I’ll see you later,” Blaine said as he straightened. He winked at her. “We’ll be together a lot. In fact, you and me might need to become a damn army of two.” A nod, then he let himself out.

An army of two? Diane bit her lip wondering what he meant. Had it been some kind of warning? Then she wondered at the ease with which he’d taken over with Daphne. Too bad he wasn’t looking for childcare work.

Resting her chin on her hand, she looked down at the baby and wondered how all this had happened. Well, the job, at least, was her fault. It might turn out to be a very good job, too, despite what she’d heard from Blaine.

But Daphne? While she was having trouble facing it herself, it remained that Daphne’s presence in her life was probably going to be long term. As in permanent.

MaryJo had been growing sicker for years, but it had been a slow process. A lot of it had been brushed away as quirks. Then, last year, MaryJo’s parents had died in a flash flood in Texas, and that seemed to have pushed MaryJo past her tipping point.

First had come the social workers, then had come a pregnancy during which she couldn’t take any meds, and the next thing Diane had known, her cousin had a full-blown psychotic break. After the baby was born, the meds didn’t help much.

MaryJo heard voices that told her to do terrible things. She even hallucinated. In short, MaryJo had vanished into an alternate universe, and nobody believed it was safe to leave Daphne in her care, or even nearby. To this day, Diane was ashamed of how little time she’d spared for thinking of her cousin on the far side of the state. She’d gotten the wrap-up from a social worker after MaryJo was hospitalized.

Then, a little less than three months after Daphne’s birth, the baby had come to live with Diane.

Inevitably, though, Diane looked down at the sleeping child and smiled. Except when Daphne was fussing and inconsolable, Diane always felt happy looking at her. Something about a baby.

Then she turned back to her desk and opened the folder containing all the notes for her new job that someone had left.

* * *

Around noon, a quiet knock sounded on her office door. She glanced at the still sleeping Daphne and decided she’d better answer it rather than call out. Rising, she rounded her desk and opened the door to find two women of about her own age, early thirties, standing there with big smiles. One had silky chestnut hair to her shoulders and wore a Western shirt with a denim skirt and cowboy boots. The other was a redhead who wore a flaming red slacks suit that she carried off with panache.

“I’m Aubrey,” said chestnut hair. “And this is my friend Candy. We’re in the clerk’s office. We heard you brought your baby, and everybody is dying to see her, so we thought we’d skip down here first and prepare you. And maybe you’d like to go to lunch with us?”

At once startled and charmed, Diane returned the smile. “You can peek, ladies, but she’s sleeping for the first time since 1:00 a.m. I’d rather nothing wake her.”

“Of course not,” said Aubrey, keeping her voice low. “I’ve been through it. Sleep before everything.”

Deciding it was okay, Diane stepped back and opened the door wider. Both women crept in quietly and looked down on the angelic baby who only a few hours ago had been wearing horns and carrying a pitchfork. The mental image suddenly made Diane want to laugh.

“Ooh, how sweet,” breathed Candy. “She’s so pretty. And that’s saying something about such a young one.”

Aubrey elbowed her gently. “Wait till you have your own. But yeah, she’s gorgeous, all right. We’ll tell everyone to give you space, but now we can report back so they won’t be so curious. I didn’t know you were bringing a family. I thought you were single. Well, we all did.”

Diane flushed, realizing that the questioning had begun. She wondered how long before it turned into a cross examination.

“I am single. This is my cousin’s baby. I’m taking care of her because my cousin is seriously ill.”

“That’s a shame,” said Aubrey. “About your cousin, I mean. Well, I guess you don’t want to carry the baby across the way to the diner, but would you like us to bring you back lunch? And if you like coffee, don’t get it out of the machine in the hallway. It’s terrible. But walk half a block and you’ll get it world-class.”

“That’s good to know, because I do love coffee and tea. Especially a latte, but...”

“Oh, we’re part of the modern world,” said Candy. “The diner makes lattes. I do wish we’d get a decent Chinese or Mexican restaurant, though. Maude’s great, but basic.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you want a salad or a sandwich? I can recommend the Cobb salad.”

“Or the steak sandwich,” Aubrey chimed in quietly. “That usually makes two meals for me. You wouldn’t have to cook tonight.”

“I love Cobb salads,” Diane said, but she couldn’t help thinking about a steak sandwich. Full of calories, but over two meals... “Let me get my purse. I think I’ll have the sandwich, after all.”

Candy quickly waved her hand. “Consider this a welcome-to-town present. It’s just a little thing. While we’re out, does the baby need anything?”

Yesterday’s trip to the market had pretty much taken care of that. “I’m stocked,” she said with confidence.

The women both smiled and began to make their quiet way to the door. Then Aubrey looked back. “Do you need day care?”

Diane’s heart leaped. “Yes. But...”

“You don’t know who to trust,” Aubrey finished. “How could you, being new in town? My brother’s wife works at the early-learning center. I’ll see if she can find you a space. Be back in a short while?”

With waves, the women left. Diane checked on the baby once again then settled at her desk, wishing for coffee and an answer to cosmic questions. She’d been so career focused until this, but now she had another life to worry about.

Forgetting the folder she needed to read, she sat and stared at the nearby baby. Daphne had already changed everything, and Diane suspected the changes had only just begun.

She just wished she had some experience to guide her.

* * *

Blaine stood on the road in question, surveying the situation. The road was elevated a few feet above the surrounding ranch land, which helped keep it dry and, in the case of blowing snow, relatively snow-free much of the winter.

But there was no question that the recent heavy rain and runoff had caused the road to dip dangerously, right over a culvert meant to equalize water buildup between the grazing land on either side and to prevent ponding as much as possible. But the recent rains had been anything but usual for this area, and problems had begun to turn up.

Climbing down to a lower position, Blaine scanned the figures the surveyor had gathered, then eyed the situation for himself. The question was whether they could save the culvert and road simply by clearing the asphalt, building up a layer of solid earth and gravel, then repaving over it.

Neither option would be cheap for the penny-pinching county commission, but the right option had to be chosen regardless of cost. A road cave-in could cause worse problems. And no matter what his decision, a lot of people were going to be bothered by a necessary detour.

His colleague Doug Ashbur, from the roads department, was inspecting the other end of the culvert. He called along it to Blaine the instant he saw him.

“Abandon hope,” Doug called, his voice echoing. “I don’t know about your end, but the metal’s rusting out down here, and the concrete casement is cracking.”

“Grand.” The view from his end wasn’t any better. He saw more than rusting steel and cracking concrete. He also saw a definite dip in culvert beneath the sinking road. The entire thing was trying to collapse.

He stepped back a few yards, being wiser than to enter that culvert in its current condition. Past engineers and road builders had tried their best, but the simple fact was that with the typical hypercold winter temperatures and the eventual thaws, that concrete was bound to crack. Even a minuscule crack would worsen with temperature changes, the ice expanding when water filled the small cracks, enlarging them, until this. The galvanized steel pipe under the concrete had been someone’s attempt years ago to prevent a catastrophic failure.

It had worked so far, but now it was a question of how long they had.

He eyed the ground above the culvert, beneath the road, and saw evidence that the ground was extruding from the smooth slope that must have once been there. So the concrete was no longer adequately bearing the weight of the road, the steel pipe was collapsing and the ground between the culvert and road had evidently washed away from the weeks of rain that must have penetrated through cracks in the old asphalt. An accident waiting to happen.

He called to Doug. “We’d better redirect traffic and close this road. See you up top.” He climbed the bank, using his hands when necessary, then went to his truck, where he pulled off his thick leather work gloves and stood staring at the dip.

It didn’t look like much now. There was also no way to be sure when it would become a big deal. It was far too weakened to be driving trucks and cars over, but it might last months. Even through the winter. And that was counting on luck a bit too much for his taste.

Up here he could feel the ceaseless breeze that never stopped in open places. While it was early autumn, the air was still warm and smelled a bit like summer. A very different summer than in Galway: warmer, drier, dustier. Sometimes he missed the cooler, wetter clime of home, but mostly he liked it here. Different, but with its own beauty, like when he turned to look at the mountains that loomed so close to the west. Any morning now he’d wake up to see the sugary coating of a first snowfall.

Doug joined him. “I’ll order up equipment, Blaine. It might be a few days before I can get it all together. You know how it goes.”

He most certainly did. This county didn’t have any resources to waste, and his too many bosses all had their eyes on things beyond the event horizon, like finally getting that oft-promised ski resort built and finding other ways to make this county more attractive and create jobs. Oh, and wealth. He was sure that had to fit in somewhere.

The ranchers around here weren’t much interested in the big schemes. They just wanted to survive another year. But that meant they needed decent enough roads to carry cattle to the stockyard at the train station, roads over which to get to town and see their kids get to school...oh, a million reasons why folks these days couldn’t just be cut off from the rest of the world for months at a time.

Like it or not, expensive or not, the county was going to have to fix this culvert.

“I believe we’ve got enough in the budget,” he said to Doug. “This clearly can’t wait.”

“I agree. But we’ve got a dozen others that aren’t much better.”

“At least they’re not already collapsing. Let’s get the signs up. You have some barricades?”

Doug laughed. “Never travel without them. Okay, I’ll work on pulling together the equipment and crew.” He paused, looking back at the dip in the road. “How you want to do this? Another culvert?”

“We talked about other solutions, you remember. The problem is that if we don’t use culverts, the erosion just expands to eat the road.” As dry as this place was in general, he was often surprised how much of a headache water gave him. Usually in the spring, however. The last rains had been record-breaking for September.

While he put out some orange cones and staked some detour signs at the crossroad, his thoughts wandered back to Diane. He wondered how she was going to like dealing with the good ol’ boys of Conard County. He wondered if they’d give her a hard time about the baby.

Mostly he wondered why she was haunting his thoughts and why he kept thinking she was a tidy armful. And why his body stirred in response.

Well, he assured himself, that would wear off. It had to. Anyway, he’d hardly talked to her. Chances were he wouldn’t continue to feel the sexual draw when he learned what she was really like.

Wasn’t that always the way?


Chapter Two (#u10f6d2f1-c966-5814-a628-f8975988af3a)

Diane went to her little rented house that night with a briefcase full of files that had been left on her desk and a baby who’d eaten enough today to satisfy a horse...well, relatively speaking. It seemed as if she needed to be fed about every two or three hours, even though the social worker had said that should begin to slow down. Not yet, obviously, and it might continue through the night.

Oh, yeah, get the girl a pediatrician. Maybe she ought to start keeping a list so she didn’t forget something. The move and taking charge of an infant had left her a bit scatterbrained.

At the last moment, before settling into a small house she hadn’t yet been able to turn into a home, she thought to check her diaper stash even though she’d bought quite a few yesterday. Who would have thought such a bitty thing could fill so many diapers?

She counted and decided she had enough for a couple of days. Plenty of formula, too. And since Candy and Aubrey had brought her a huge lunch from the café, she didn’t need to cook.

Good heavens, she thought. The baby was sleeping contentedly, she could dine without cooking and she had time to kick off her shoes and collapse on the recliner that had been delivered just yesterday. Beaten and creaky, it held a lot of memories of her father, a veteran who had largely retreated to a distant land inside his own head. Memories of her father, as rare as the good ones had been, were something she didn’t want to lose entirely.

She wandered down the hall to the bedroom she hadn’t had time to unpack yet and opened a suitcase to pull out her favorite old jeans and a checked shirt as softened by age as the jeans. Her grungies, her comfies, whatever anyone wanted to call them. That night she had nothing to do except care for Daphne and herself...for the first time since she’d accepted this job. She supposed she ought to feel slothful for not unpacking just a little, but frankly, she was worn out. She could live out of a suitcase for another day.

When she emerged from her bedroom, slightly freshened for the evening, she heard Daphne stirring, making little sounds that might soon turn into a full-throated cry. Diaper. Feeding. Blaine had been right about one thing: it was actually very simple. Demanding but simple.

In a very short time, she had become practiced at pulling out a bottle and filling it with room-temperature formula from a can. The woman who had turned Daphne over to Diane had told her she didn’t need to warm the baby bottles as long as the formula was at room temperature. However, it had been chilly outside, so she put the bottle in a pan of warm water from the sink and gave it a few minutes to lose any chill.

She tested the warmth of the formula on the inside of her wrist, then went to rescue her increasingly noisy charge. A finger in the diaper told her that could wait, so she gathered the child to her and let her drink from the bottle.

Sitting in her recliner without putting her feet up, she became fascinated with watching Daphne eat. Her little eyes, beginning to get darker and resemble her mother’s, watched her back. Intense. Content.

Amazing. After just a few days she could feel her heart reaching out to this child, taking her in, wrapping her in swiftly growing love. If MaryJo got well, it was going to hurt to have to give this baby up. Hurt like hell.

But the social worker’s assessment had been brutal: MaryJo would never be well enough to care for her own child. If she improved, like so many with her illness, she probably couldn’t be trusted to stay on her meds. And if she didn’t keep taking her medication...

Diane shook her head a little and began to hum softly. Daphne continued to watch her, then with a surprisingly strong thrust of arms and legs, she turned her head from the bottle.

“Enough of that, huh?” Diane asked. “A little gas bubble, maybe? You eat more than that.”

Daphne scrunched up her face, so Diane quickly put the girl over her shoulder and began to pat and rub her back. She felt a bit embarrassed that Blaine had done it for her earlier, clearly thinking she didn’t know to do such a thing. But she’d forgotten in the midst of her overwhelming day.

She wouldn’t forget now. Rising from the chair, she paced and patted, continuing to hum quietly. When the little burp emerged, she offered more formula.

“Easy peasy,” Diane said. Twenty minutes later, she had the child changed—she decided she was going to need a changing table soon—dressed in a fresh onesie and apparently content enough to yawn.

“Success.” The best evening yet. She paced with the little girl on her shoulder some more, drawing out another tiny burp, then moved her to the cradle of her arm. Daphne waved one fist around then shoved it toward her mouth. In an eye blink, she fell asleep.

A very successful evening. Diane was smiling happily as she settled Daphne into her small travel bed. She needed to get a crib soon, too. But first there’d be another round of hungry baby around eleven.

One of her girlfriends had told her before she left her old job that she was lucky, missing the first three months of caring for the baby. “By four months,” Lucy had said, “I was beginning to wonder if the little brat would ever sleep through the night. You remember. I was in a fog of sleep deprivation all the time.”

Diane didn’t really remember, because she hadn’t seen a whole lot of Lucy after she birthed her first child. “Too busy” had been Lucy’s response to every invitation. She probably had been, too.

For that matter, she felt a bit guilty about how little she’d seen of MaryJo in the past five years. The kind of closeness some claimed with cousins had never existed between them, and there was little enough to pull them together when they no longer lived in the same town.

MaryJo’s parents had divorced a long time ago. She’d never seen her dad again. Then her mother had dived into a bottle and never emerged. The most amazing thing was that those two had been together when they got caught in a flash flood in Texas. As if they might have been reaching out to one another again? No one would ever know now.

It was hardly to be wondered that MaryJo was troubled, but the social worker assured her that the causes of schizophrenia involved so many factors nobody could pin all of them down. Bottom line, she really didn’t need to worry about Daphne getting it.

Diane hoped that was so. She couldn’t imagine that darling child growing up to be so ill.

She was just about to move to the recliner and close her eyes for a little while before heating up the remains of her lunch when someone knocked at the door.

Her heart accelerated. She’d come from a much larger city where knocks on the door at this time of night were a bit threatening. Too late for regular deliveries, and friends always called first. Plus, she really didn’t know anyone here, so it couldn’t possibly be a friendly call, could it?

On the other hand, as an official now, her address was had become public record, so finding her wouldn’t be hard if someone wanted to rant about something. Lovely idea.

But she shook herself, telling herself not to be ridiculous, and went to answer it.

She should have guessed. Blaine Harrigan stood there, wearing a light jacket now and holding a potted red gerbera daisy. “To brighten a windowsill,” he said with a smile. “I take it your new boss is happily sleeping?”

Just seeing him drew a bright smile from her and a rush of warmth. Man, she didn’t even know this guy. It was too soon to be happy to see him, wasn’t it?

Heck, she didn’t care. It was nice to see him, to feel as if she might have made her first friend here. She stepped back, inviting him in. “Thank you for the daisy. I just love it. What a kind thought.” She looked at the bright flower with a sudden feeling of comfort, as if she weren’t a total stranger here anymore. “I was thinking about making some tea. Would you like some?”

“I never turn down a cuppa,” he answered. He handed her the flower, and she motioned him to follow her to the small kitchen and dining area. She placed the daisy on the sill over the sink then turned to find him standing in the doorway, evidently awaiting an invitation to sit or go.

“Have a seat,” she said, pointing to the ridiculously small table with two chairs. This place had come partially furnished, a relief to her because she hadn’t wanted to ship her things from Iowa. None of it had been worth shipping. Her life revolved around her work, and decorating had mostly involved plastic storage containers and repurposed boxes. Hey, it had served her needs.

But now...well, what was here could do with a few additions for the baby.

“So you’re enjoying a little peace and quiet,” he said as she filled the kettle and put it on the gas stove.

“Until around eleven,” she agreed. “I’m sorry you caught me in such a mess earlier. I’m new at this, but I’m not stupid. I don’t know why I didn’t think of burping Daphne. I do it all the time!”

He laughed quietly. “No excuses needed. You’re tired, probably overwhelmed. I mean, a new job and a new baby all at once? And more to come, I believe. I’ll bet the little one starts creeping and crawling soon.”

“She’s already trying,” Diane admitted. “When I put her down on a blanket. But I’ve only had four days with her. A lot to learn.” She hesitated. “You said you were from Ireland, right?”

He nodded.

“Then my tea is probably going to appall you.”

He leaned forward a little on his chair. “Tea bags? I’ve learned to admire their advantages. Easy and quick, especially for a single guy who only wants one cup. Now, if I really want to brew a pot, I can do it, but usually I’m on the run.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I make a pot with tea bags.”

“I’ll show you when we have some time. Anyway, I’m going to buzz into yer meetin’ with the commissioners tomorrow.”

“The culvert?” she asked, turning to pull out two mugs and a box of tea bags and put them on the table.

“It has to be replaced quickly. The road is sinking, the concrete is cracking and the steel drainage pipe is buckling. Me and Doug from the road department closed off the road today. I don’t want some poor rancher to start driving over it and find his bonnet—sorry, hood—six feet in the ground.”

Diane nodded. “Not good. Do you like milk and sugar?”

“I’ll go for straight. Thanks. Yeah, the budget has been way too tight for too long. Been patching and mending as best we can, but there’s only so long we can push things off.”

“I know. Infrastructure is one of my pet peeves. Nothing works if you haven’t got it.”

“Ah, some common sense!”

She couldn’t repress a giggle at that. She wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the difficulties he mentioned. No place ran like a smoothly oiled machine, no budget was ever sufficient and personalities always got in the way. “Did you expect something else from an urban planner?”

His grin broadened. “I’ve known all types in my life.”

She was still smiling as she poured boiling water into the mugs over the waiting tea bags. Soon the rich aroma of black tea began to waft through the kitchen. “So why did you leave Ireland?” she asked. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Now that’s a story,” he answered. Once again his deep voice took on the rhythms of the American West, leaving behind the hints of Galway. And they were just hints, poking out from time to time. He’d clearly been in the States for a while. “Like many places in the world, Ireland was booming just before the economic crash. Unlike many places in the world, we didn’t recover quickly. We had too much boom. We were bringing in workers from all over the world, building fast, growing, and then...” He shrugged.

“Whatever. Life was getting harder, finding work was getting harder and I had a bit of the wanderlust in me. I hopped through a few jobs, then stopped here.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I like it. It’s different. Galway’s beautiful with mountains and plenty of seashore, and the town itself has a lot of charm in parts. But I have to say, I wasn’t prepared for the sheer size of your country. I was astonished and spellbound. And then I saw the mountains here. They dwarf anything I’d ever known before, plus there’s a whole lot of wide-open space, space almost beyond imagining. It would be hard to tear me away.”

She nodded and set her tea bag on the saucer in the middle of the table. Lifting her cup, she closed her eyes for a few seconds just to inhale the fragrant steam. The questions buzzing her head were dangerous, so she diverted. She didn’t dare ask about people she would be working with. “All tea comes from a single Asian plant, from Yunnan in China. It grows elsewhere now, and there are probably varieties, but most of the flavor we love has to do with how the tea is aged.” She opened her eyes.

“Where did that come from?” he asked.

“Trying to avoid asking you about the members of the commissions and boards I’m going to be dealing with.”

He cracked a laugh, a deep sound that rumbled as if it rose from the depths. “I shouldn’t say much. A bunch of eejits, but not always. They’re politicians. You can count on them to look out for themselves. Take the culvert I told you about. That’s going to need to be replaced as swiftly as possible. I’ll have to let them know what I’m going to do, even though I believe I have the money in the roads budget. They like to be informed. Oh, keep that in mind, Diane. They want to know everything. Some of them will raise Cain because there are probably ten things that they might consider more important. Finally they’ll settle down and give me the go-ahead simply because they don’t want a dozen of the largest ranchers around here to be having to detour by miles all winter. But the argument will reassure them that they’re the ones in control.”

She understood him perfectly. That was a game she’d played before. She also knew how to win...usually.

“But that’s just a handful of people,” he said. “The rest of the folks around here are the kind of people I’m happy to spend time with. At least those I’ve met. I think you’ll enjoy most everything here, unless you like to live in high style. The closest thing we have to a nightclub is a roadhouse, where I’d advise you to never go alone. Then there’s Mahoney’s Bar, which is as close as I’ve ever found to my local pub.” He paused. “Now, you might like that somewhat. Busy, friendly place.”

She was smiling again, enjoying his description. Relaxation had begun to fill her anew as she thought that she probably hadn’t made a mistake in accepting this job.

Daphne’s sudden entrance into her life had given Diane more qualms about coming to Conard County than she’d initially had by far. When it was just her, it was all a big adventure. With Daphne it had become intimidating. She had begun to start thinking about all kinds of things, from day care to eventual schooling. Was this the best place to give her little cousin all the opportunities she should have? And what about the quality of medical care?

Thoughts that had never plagued her before plagued her now. “Becoming an unexpected mother is a bit shocking,” she said, musing and only half-aware she was speaking. “A whole new set of worries I never had in the past, and bam, at the worst time possible, in the middle of a move and starting a new job.”

“Yeah, most people get a little more warning, like about nine months.”

Again he made her laugh. There was a sparkle in his amazing blue eyes and only humor around his mouth. A good-looking man. She realized she was experiencing an adolescent urge to just drink him in with her eyes. At once she raised her cup and turned her attention to her tea, hoping to find safety there. She had too much on her plate, and anyway, as far as she could determine, romantic relationships with colleagues could be fraught with danger and a lot of potential discomfort.

“Thanks so much for the tea,” he said, rising. He crossed to the sink and rinsed his cup before setting it on the counter. “I’ll see you in the morning, Diane. I’m sure you need some downtime after everything.”

She rose, too, and followed him to the door. “How much trouble do you think they’re going to give me over Daphne? Aubrey said she’ll ask her sister-in-law to find room for her at the day care center.”

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and gave her another smile. “I told you we were going to be an army. I meant it. First one gives you a hard time is going to hear from me. You’re entitled to time to settle everything. Good night.”

“Thank you again for the flower,” she called after him.

He gave a quick wave, then strode away into the night. He moved easily, evidently fit and apparently accustomed to walking. He passed from the pool of light under one streetlamp to the next until he vanished around a corner.

Only then did she close and lock her door. Back in the kitchen, she smiled again as she looked at the bright red daisy on her windowsill. A thoughtful gesture. He couldn’t possibly have guessed how much she loved gerbera daisies. They always reminded her of a drawing, so perfect it hardly seemed possible that they were real.

Then, trying to divert her thoughts from Blaine without much success, she put the remains of her steak sandwich and salad on a plate, opened a bottle of diet root beer and headed for her recliner.

Settled in comfortably, she waited for the next feeding and wondered if she could find that novel she’d been reading before her whole life had been packed into boxes and the trunk of her car. Having so little furniture of her own that was worth keeping had made the move easy and cheap. But now there were boxes stuffed into every corner, awaiting her attention. Boxes that had been labeled by the movers she had hired. She wondered how well they had done their jobs.

Well, she could wait to find out. The important thing was that she had her dad’s easy chair.

And Daphne. That baby was becoming incredibly important to her.

Poor MaryJo. Diane couldn’t begin to imagine the hell her cousin must be enduring. She just hoped the doctors could help.

Then she started eating, taking her time. Even cold the sandwich tasted delicious. She wiggled her toes and felt tension start to leave her legs.

Man, she had been wound up today, although she hadn’t really been aware of it. For a little while when Daphne had refused to stop crying, yeah, then she’d been frantic.

But Blaine had come along, handling it all for her and assuring her it wasn’t all that difficult a thing to take care of a baby. Then Aubrey and Candy and their warm welcome.

She just hoped tomorrow would go as well. With a full tummy, she put her empty plate and bottle onto the box beside her chair and allowed herself to doze. Behind her eyelids danced the memory of a man offering her a red gerbera daisy.


Chapter Three (#u10f6d2f1-c966-5814-a628-f8975988af3a)

For her first meeting with her new bosses as an employee, Diane chose a three-piece black outfit with slacks, a matching sleeveless shirt and a modified trapeze top that moved slightly when she walked but had the effect of minimizing her curves, such as they might be. Drawing attention to her gender had never yet proved to be an asset at work.

Daphne seemed to be in a sunny mood, eating her breakfast while looking around as if taking the whole world in. Tucked safely in her car seat, she waved her little arms and legs freely, causing Diane just a bit of trouble as she tried to strap the girl safely into the back seat of her car. Diane didn’t mind the wiggling, however. She just wished she could share the child’s happy mood. Right then she felt as if she might be going to her execution.

Aubrey and Candy had come to her office because they’d heard about Daphne. That probably meant everyone else with an interest had heard by now. What would she do if they refused to let her bring the child with her until she could find suitable care for her?

Her stomach had begun to feel like lead. The oat cereal she’d eaten felt like it wanted to stage a revolution. She paused to check the diaper bag once more, making sure she had enough for the day. And if she didn’t, well, there was lunch hour and a trip to the pharmacy on Main Street or the grocery at the edge of town. She wasn’t in the wilderness, for heaven’s sake.

Mentally bucking herself up, she drove down streets beneath big old trees that were just beginning to brighten with autumn color. She had a designated parking space behind the courthouse, and she slid into it. After she turned off the engine, she sat for several minutes, trying to center herself.

She was startled by a gentle rapping on the window beside her. Turning her head, she saw a pleasant-looking man in a sweatshirt and jeans. She rolled her window down a crack.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Wyatt Carter, the judge around here. You’re the new urban planner, aren’t you? Is everything okay? You didn’t move for so long, I had to wonder.”

Diane felt her cheeks heat a bit. “I’m fine. New-job nerves.”

He nodded. “I get that. Come on, I’ll walk you in and we’ll stare everyone down.”

That made her smile at last. “Do I really need protection?”

He tilted his head as if thinking, then shook his head. “Actually, not at all. That’s what I have a gavel for.”

Which was how she came to be walking down the corridor in the courthouse basement with the judge carrying her diaper bag while she carried Daphne in her all-purpose car seat in one hand and her briefcase in the other.

Quite a start to the day, she thought as she entered her office. Wyatt—he’d already insisted she drop the formality—placed the diaper bag on her desk. “I’m just two floors up, and we’re having a full day in the court. If you need anything from me, one of the clerks can bring me a message. But honestly, I think everyone down here will help you without hesitation. Have a great day and remind the council members I still own the gavel.”

Well, he’d certainly helped her get over some of her nerves, she thought. Was this town a Disney creation? Everyone she’d met so far had been amazingly nice. She placed Daphne in a corner out of the way after checking her diaper, then gave her a small, not too noisy rattle to use. Clutched in one little fist, it waved in every direction, then wound up pressed to the girl’s mouth. Everything seemed to wind up there. She made a mental note to check around her house very carefully before putting the baby down on a blanket on the floor.

Or maybe she should get a playpen. Man, the list was adding up. Playpen, changing table, crib. Then more clothes, because her onesies would stop fitting soon.

Seated at her desk, she pulled the files out of her briefcase, feeling only one pang of guilt that she hadn’t spent any time on them last night. Not that they needed intense attention. One was the comprehensive plan from so long ago, and she’d read that before applying. It read like comprehensive plans everywhere except for being outdated.

Then there was a series of folders that amounted to the local wish list, she guessed. Airport runway expansion. Updating the parks. Help to attract new business. Some funding for repairing the high school, which had apparently met with... She caught her breath. A bomb? Really? She wouldn’t have expected that here. Probably some kid who’d thought he was being funny. Or brilliant.

The one that most caught her attention was a plan to widen one of the roads up into the mountains to turn it into a scenic drive that would end at an historic mining town that, of course, needed work to make it safe. But that was the kind of thing she loved—preserving historical sites, making them into attractions that would ensure their longevity.

Some of these projects would likely have to be handled by bond issues, but some could well qualify for grants from various sources. And that would be her job. That and updating the comprehensive plan to comply with new regulations.

Leaning back in her chair, listening to the quiet sounds of the rattle, which would probably elicit tears by falling on the floor soon, and listening to the baby noises Daphne was making, she closed her eyes and remembered why she had taken this job in the first place.

Conard County wasn’t all built up like the other places she’d worked, most recently Des Moines. When she’d come out for the interview and looked around the area, all she could see was possibility. Of course, she couldn’t make it all happen, and she wasn’t sure it would be good for the community if she did, but some of it could be brought to life here. The potential, the virtually clean slate...yeah, a lot could be done here, and with those mountains so nearby, that merely expanded the things they could accomplish.

The scenic road was one great idea. She’d also read how repeated attempts to build a ski resort had fallen through, the last time because of some serious landslides.

She didn’t understand why it couldn’t be done. Those mountains weren’t going anywhere, but they needed funding for an independent geological survey. That last failure had occurred because of record-breaking rain. Surely that could be planned around. Earthquake activity seemed to be minor. She’d suggest the survey as one of her projects.

Oh, she’d been bubbling with ideas since her interview, but she had to be careful to avoid the “new broom” effect. There was bound to be resistance to any change around here, so she’d better find her way among the people who’d be affected. Maybe a town hall or charette, a survey of what folks besides the commissioners wanted around here. Community input was essential.

She glanced over and saw that Daphne had fallen asleep, the rattle still clutched in tiny hands. Toys suitable for an infant, she thought, adding that to her growing mental list. She wondered what other unthought-of things lay around the corner.

She returned to the files, trying to organize them in a useful way for the work ahead of her. Sources for grants would be her first move, and for that she needed projects that might garner private funding. Turning to the computer on her desk, she opened a new digital file and began to transfer information. Why in the world were these files still paper, anyway? Had they been around that long?

Much as she didn’t feel like working, she actually made some headway in her organization and was starting to feel fairly good about her morning when the door opened.

Looking up, she saw Blaine poking his head through a five-inch opening. “We’re up. The mayor, the council chairman and the chief commissioner have decided they want to meet with you now.”

Diane’s stomach turned over, then became queasy. Anxiety because it was barely noon and the public meeting was supposed to be at six. “Now?” she said pointlessly.

“Well, I got you ten minutes. Better make sure the tot is comfy and you have a bottle. Don’t panic, it’s not the lion’s den and I’ll be there.”

“I’m not panicking,” she lied bravely. “What happened?”

“People talk. And some other people want to get the jump on their, um, colleagues. In short, they want the first whack and want information before the others get it.”

She understood that all too well. When it came to personal power, adults could act like toddlers. “This isn’t a good start,” she remarked.

“Is any? I’ll be back for you and Daphne in ten. Or would you rather I ask someone to watch her just for now?”

“Thanks, but I might as well put all the cards on the table right now.” If it was to be a fight, she was ready for it, she believed. Planners like her weren’t a dime a dozen.

* * *

Blaine walked down the hall, his thumbs hooked on his jeans pockets. This was indeed not a good start. The eejits had hired this woman while he was away and could offer no input, and now they were going to have a turf war over her?

He had to give her marks for taking the tot right into it with her. Apparently, Diane Finch like to have the air as clear as possible. Well, so did he.

But not the damn fools they were about to meet. Oh, no. The muddier the better for them.

Then he brushed aside the thoughts as unproductive. He’d managed to work with these people for over five years now, and going all crackers on them in defense of Diane wasn’t going to help anyone. He still had a culvert to take care of, and he and the roads department would be getting the blame if the commissioners stalled it.

As for Diane, she probably wanted to keep this job for a while. To withstand the inevitable storms that were coming, she needed to be firm and able to stand for herself. The politicians weren’t all bad, after all. But they all had their moments.

Like any other human, he decided humorously. Show him a perfect person and he’d be sure he was looking at the Blessed Mother herself. Anyway, if it became necessary, he knew a few ways to step in to make them back off her.

Inside the chamber on the second floor of the courthouse, just beneath the courtrooms and judges’ chambers on the third floor, only one commissioner had arrived. Madge Corker, a graying woman of near sixty, sat in her usual chair and eyed him with a smile.

“So we have a baby with us now, Blaine?”

“If ya won’t mind, I’ll be letting the planner explain it herself.”

“Don’t go Irish on me,” she said lightly. “Usually I like to listen to that accent, but when you carry it too far, I have trouble understanding. I think we need to understand today.”

“No doubt,” he answered, plopping himself in a seat in the front row. “I’ve a culvert I need to talk about. I was planning that for tonight.”

A sound of amusement escaped Madge. “You were always good at diversion.”

“No diversion except around that culvert. Detours.”

Another sound of amusement escaped her, then two men entered, wearing pressed Western shirts and jeans. The local dress-up. If you took an iron to it, you didn’t need the three-piece and tie.

Neither of them looked remotely amused. Of course not. Men had a thing about babies at work. Women in the clerk’s office were still trying to get a private closet for nursing.

Jeff Holdrum, the first to enter, was a portly man, just portly enough to look well-to-do and to sport a small spot of egg yolk on the front of his shirt. Minor Allcoke was a weedy man who looked as if he’d been starving all his life. Except Blaine had more than once watched him eat as if he were a three-hundred-pound rugby player.

As the two new arrivals took their place at the council table on its dais, Blaine felt some apprehension.

“This is all looking rather official,” he said. “Where are the others?”

“That’s tonight. Where’s Ms. Finch? She’s supposed to be here.”

“I gave her ten minutes.” He glanced at his watch. Then, just to annoy them, he switched to an upper-crust British accent, which he seldom used. “Only seven have passed. To avoid being rude, you understand.”

For a second, he enjoyed watching them look a bit embarrassed. What was it about speaking the queen’s English in the queen’s accent that seemed to make Americans feel a bit...scolded? He wasn’t sure.

Jeff Holdrum cleared his throat. “This is just about getting to know her.”

“Right-o. I thought you already interviewed her.”

“Some...things have changed.”

“Hell, life has a way o’ doing that, don’t you know.” Then he folded his arms and waited. He just hoped Diane didn’t begin on her back foot. Weakness didn’t stand up well against these folks. Given Madge was a woman, he hoped she was here to protect Diane, but he’d also seen enough women go after other women to know better than to hope.

He felt the unmistakable change of room pressure as the door at the back opened. Three sets of eyes left him and looked to the rear. He was tempted not to look at all, but then he changed his mind.

Diane was walking up the center aisle with the baby carrier all decked out in fresh yellow in one hand, the denim diaper bag over her shoulder and a briefcase in hand. He eyed her with admiration. Not only was she lovely, she’d also been serious about putting all her cards on the table. No mistaking it. Her stride was almost defiant.





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