Книга - Deputy Daddy

Deputy Daddy
Patricia Johns


A Family for the OfficerOfficer Bryce Camden never expected his two-week stint in Comfort Creek, Colorado would mean diaper duty. But that’s exactly what happens when he stays at the local bed and breakfast where Lily Ellison is fostering an abandoned baby girl. Bryce is drawn to the lovely B&B owner, but being a dad is not part of his plans. His troubled past has shown him that he’s not the nurturing type. But he soon finds himself wishing he didn’t have to leave. Because Lily and the baby have taken root in his heart and made him think that maybe he could be a family man after all…Comfort Creek Lawmen: Men in blue with hearts of gold







A Family for the Officer

Officer Bryce Camden never expected his two-week stint in Comfort Creek, Colorado, would mean diaper duty. But that’s exactly what happens when he stays at the local bed-and-breakfast where Lily Ellison is fostering an abandoned baby girl. Bryce is drawn to the lovely B and B owner, but being a dad is not part of his plans. His troubled past has shown him that he’s not the nurturing type. But he soon finds himself wishing he didn’t have to leave. Because Lily and the baby have taken root in his heart and made him think that maybe he could be a family man after all...


“Did you miss me or something?” he whispered.

The baby blinked up at him, then her eyes drifted shut once more. Bryce couldn’t help but feel a little smug about her preference for him. He’d kind of missed her, too, if he had to admit to it.

Lily stood at the stove scooping cookies off the pan with a spatula and depositing them onto a plate. She was beautiful—even more so when she was focused on a job she enjoyed, like this one. He could see her happiness in the way she held herself, the way her shoulders were squared and the way her eyes shone.

Stop enjoying this, he told himself gruffly. This isn’t yours.

The baby in his arms, the beautiful woman across the kitchen, the family arguing at the table—none of this was his. It was tempting in a way he’d never felt before, but it was firmly out of reach. And he’d best remember it. This was a closed door.


PATRICIA JOHNS writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired, Western Romance and Heartwarming lines. You can find her at patriciajohnsromance.com (http://www.patriciajohnsromance.com).


Deputy Daddy

Patricia Johns






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


A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows... God sets the lonely in families.

—Psalms 68:5–6


To my husband, who inspires all this romance.

And to our little boy, who really wanted Mom

to dedicate a book to him, too.

You are my everything!


Contents

Cover (#u84c5c03e-790f-55d6-8112-dd270122d3df)

Back Cover Text (#uaf7bb85f-0492-5adc-a6ba-f727dc6fab77)

Introduction (#u77bcf6af-3b19-5bf3-afef-f581958c9d95)

About the Author (#u9e65cf24-cceb-571f-868d-07cfa454b9d7)

Title Page (#ud3a0ee20-c3f3-5f8b-8d56-51b8497f460f)

Bible Verse (#u57917144-6a1f-5a15-89d7-df71990303ed)

Dedication (#udaa31c66-ac5b-5ee1-9f0b-e57bc45b21cf)

Chapter One (#u6baea559-d045-5833-9e0a-1ee9e5f238e3)

Chapter Two (#u999717fc-eb89-58be-b86b-ebad354d1547)

Chapter Three (#ud78203d2-9faf-5aa0-a9bf-6f88e03af4d0)

Chapter Four (#u0e108377-2028-5a36-a0e3-1907bb827c8a)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u892e2ff7-b5d1-566a-8074-3c88b2ad6476)

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

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

He’d never burped a baby in his life.

“Is that an order, sir?” Bryce asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been calling her Piglet.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s awful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

“Like, as a lullaby?”

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be Emily.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She paused. Professionalism must prevail.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked.

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

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

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

“Pardon me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much younger?”

“About twenty years.”

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

“So you’re right, we’re worried.”

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

“About half the family,” she admitted.

“And the other half?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pardon me?” Bryce blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Chapter Two (#u892e2ff7-b5d1-566a-8074-3c88b2ad6476)

The room smelled faintly of floor polish mingled with the scent of the flowers on the bedside table. His hostess had thought of every detail, from the Wi-Fi password in a silver picture frame to the handmade quilt draped across the end of the bed. Bryce lay between crisp white sheets that smelled ever so subtly of bleach, knowing that he’d probably never been more comfortable in his life, but was still unable to sleep. There was something about the quiet that was throwing him off. How did people relax in a place so ridiculously silent?

Lily and the baby stayed in a little cottage in the back—a structure that probably used to be a mother-in-law suite, but that seemed to serve her purposes nicely. She got some privacy, but she was still close enough if her guests needed anything during the night. She’d given him a phone number for her cell phone and told him not to hesitate to call if he needed anything at all. Truthfully, he’d hesitate. He never had been comfortable being waited on.

Bryce’s Bible lay to the side. He’d tried reading it twice already and been unsuccessful.

Lord, I’m sorry.

Bryce wasn’t one to shirk the consequences of his own actions, and he knew he’d been wrong when he punched Leroy Higgins. He wasn’t the kind of guy to just lose control like that, and the episode had scared him a bit. Leroy had been ragging on him for weeks when he’d found out who his father was.

Bryce’s dad had been a police officer, too, until he quit under some fierce allegations of professional misconduct. And while Leroy thought his jokes were hilarious, Bryce had finally had enough. But physically lashing out...that had been wrong and a lot more like his father than he was comfortable with.

Outside an owl hooted, forcing him to take back his last thought about silence. It wasn’t completely quiet, really, because there were sounds, just not the kind that he was used to. The constant hum of traffic and the far-off chug of a train did the trick back in Fort Collins. A mystery novel and a couple of Psalms just before turning in had been a great relaxer as well, but all this quiet made his ordinary routines insufficient. His conscience wasn’t helping matters, either.

That evening, he’d held Emily for an hour or more while Lily went around cleaning up the kitchen. The baby cried in the bassinet and cried in Lily’s arms. The only quiet they managed to get was when he paced the kitchen with Emily snuggled against his chest. What was a guy supposed to do? Lily had cleaned and scrubbed while he paced, and while she worked, she talked. For as much as she talked, though, he had a feeling there was a lot she held back.

Lily was pretty in a way that he didn’t see too often in the city. Her hair was natural—not the bottle blond he saw so often. She wore very little makeup, and he was glad of that because the smattering of freckles over her face was endearing. She was petite and slim, but she wasn’t weak by any stretch. He’d seen her effortlessly lift a twenty-four-pound bag of flour. It was impressive.

And the whole time he’d held little Emily with those big brown eyes and the black hair that sprang off the top of her head like fireworks. Every time he looked down at that pink bow of a mouth, or let her grasp his finger with that tiny little hand, he couldn’t quite forget that he was terrible at this—he had a rotten track record.

There had been other kids in his life, and he’d managed to bungle those relationships. One Christmas Eve, he’d spilled the truth about Santa Claus at his cousin’s house. He still felt slightly wronged in that one, though, because he’d had no idea that kids actually still believed in Santa. He never had as a child, and no one had given him the memo about retaining the innocence or whatever. After that he’d stayed away during the holiday, and gave the kids Christmas cards with twenty-dollar bills enclosed. As far as he knew, they were happy with that arrangement—his cousin included.

Then there was the time that he tried to pull the tooth of his partner’s youngest daughter. That tooth had been dangling by a thread for the longest time, and he thought if he just gave it a tug...only it didn’t come out. The poor girl had hollered and cried and bled into a tissue, and he’d felt like a complete jerk. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and while her parents had been very forgiving and gracious about the whole thing, he still hadn’t forgiven himself for that one.

There was a whole litany of stories where Bryce muddled things up with kids—he was no good at it, and he shouldn’t be surprised. His dad had been the least comforting, most awkward man when it came to being a father, and Bryce had inherited every last bit of it.

So as he’d cradled Piglet, he tried to pull his emotions away. But whenever he did, Emily would seem to sense a change in him, and she’d start to cry, and he’d be pulled right back into singing “America the Beautiful.” And Lily would look at him like he was ridiculous, and he’d know that this arrangement that left him on baby duty was most definitely not working.

He knew it wasn’t, but he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. It was this or sleeping in his truck, and he knew that he’d be an idiot to give up the clean, cozy bedroom. Somehow, he’d just have to get through these next two weeks, and then escape back to Fort Collins. At least doing a background check on Lily’s aunt’s fiancé would help to distract him. Besides the beautiful Miss Ellison, Comfort Creek seemed to offer very little distraction from his own personal issues. Perhaps that was part of the strategy out here.

Outside, a different kind of sound broke the night stillness. It was the thump of feet hitting the ground and a soft grunt, followed quickly by another pair of feet and a male voice muttering in irritation. Bryce tossed back the sheet and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. A digital clock glowed 11:00, and Bryce almost rolled his eyes. It felt like the middle of the night here in Comfort Creek. In Fort Collins, he’d be up watching the news.

Bryce crept to the gabled window and looked out. He had a clear view of the yard in the silvery moonlight, and he could see two young men standing in the flower garden, picking their way out of it. They’d obviously just jumped a fence, and they were moving toward the house.

This was the kind of thing he knew how to handle. Babies—not so much. Break-and-enters, trespassers, and general run-of-the-mill bad guys? That was his comfort zone.

Bryce slipped his gun holster over his shoulder and buckled it into place. He slid into a pair of jeans, too. Taking down a couple of perps in pajama bottoms just seemed undignified. His bare feet made no sound on the wooden floorboards as he crept from his bedroom and down the stairs. Everything was silent and still—nothing out of order, but he could hear the muttered voices of the young men outside the kitchen window.

“...give me a boost...”

“Ouch. No, this way—”

Bryce unlocked the side door with a soft click, then swung it slowly open. The hinges were well oiled, much to his relief, and he slipped out onto the veranda, then jumped over the railing into the dew-laden grass. The cottage, located down a stone path and no more than fifty feet away, was dark and silent, and he peeked around the side of the house to see the two teenagers attempting to use a crowbar on the window. He rolled his eyes. They were obviously new at this.

“Hey, there,” Bryce said conversationally, and both young men startled. The crowbar fell with a thunk to the ground and they started moving backward.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bryce said. “I’m faster.”

At those words, they took off toward the fence they’d jumped to get into the yard. If they’d gone in opposite directions, he would have had to choose which one to take down, but since they hadn’t thought that far ahead, it didn’t take much for Bryce to sprint across the yard and catch them by their shirts halfway up the fence. He jerked them backward and they came down to the ground in a sprawling, wiry mess. Bryce got his knee solidly into the back of one of them, and grabbed the other by an ankle.

“Freeze!” he barked, his tone sharp and cold.

Both young men stopped moving immediately, except for the quick rise and fall of their chests.

Just then, a light came on in the cottage and Lily’s face appeared in the window. She disappeared and a moment later appeared in the doorway.

“Burke and Randy, what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“You know these two?” Bryce asked incredulously.

“Of course I know them!” she retorted. “These are my little brothers. Two of them, at least. Now answer me!”

The demand was obviously focused on the young men in his grasp. He released them, and they both rose their feet, rubbing at sore spots from the tussle.

“Hey, Lily,” the bigger one said. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Get in here!” she snapped, then disappeared from the doorway.

Randy and Burke looked at each other sheepishly, then back at Bryce.

“That hurt,” the smaller one said resentfully.

“Probably did,” Bryce replied, unaffected. “Next time don’t run from a cop.”

“How were we supposed to know you were a cop?” the bigger one retorted.

Bryce pulled out his badge, then tucked it back into his pocket. “There’s your proof.”

“Man...” The young men headed toward the cottage where Lily was waiting for them, arms crossed over her chest. She wore a thick bathrobe, closed all the way up to her chin, and her eyes glittered in anger.

“Inside!” she ordered, and Burke and Randy did as they were told. Bryce felt a bit of an urge to obey, too. She sounded an awful lot like his third grade teacher, the memory of whom still struck fear in his heart. When Lily saw Bryce, she rolled her eyes.

“My idiot brothers,” she said, shaking her head. “They still think everything I own belongs to them, too.”

Bryce followed Lily into the tiny cottage. It seemed to consist of a sitting room, a bathroom—which he could see because the door hung open—and a bedroom to which the door was shut. It was cozy enough, and a tiny cry came through the bedroom door.

“So what are you doing here?” Lily snapped. She shook her head and whipped around. She disappeared into the bedroom and emerged with Emily in her arms.

Burke shuffled his feet against the hardwood floor. “We were hungry. Just came for a snack.”

“You’ve been drinking,” she said, shaking her head. “Not only are you underage, but you know full well we have alcoholics in our family. You’re playing with fire!”

“Oh, stop the lectures, Lily,” Randy said with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re worse than Mom!”

“And you’re dumber than I thought!” she snapped. “So this seemed like a good idea...lurking around my yard?”

She picked up a bottle of formula and looked from the baby to the boys, as if undecided on how to balance the three of them. She seemed to make a decision, because she brought both bottle and baby to Bryce, then turned back to her brothers.

“They were breaking in, actually,” Bryce said, adjusting the baby in his arms. “They were working at the kitchen window with a crowbar.”

Emily wriggled, turning her face toward him, her mouth open in a little circle. She let out a whimper, hands grasping at the air. He’d given Emily a bottle at the precinct, so he knew how this worked at least, and he popped it into her mouth. She settled in, slurping hungrily.

“Breaking in?” Lily’s eyebrows shot up and stared at her brothers incredulously. “You were trying to break in to raid my fridge?”

Both young men shrugged. “Nothing in the fridge at home.”

Lily glanced toward Bryce, and they exchanged a look. Emily wriggled in his arms, and he looked down at the baby—Emily’s needs not pausing even for a second while they tried to deal with Lily’s brothers. Why couldn’t babies come preprogrammed with patience?

Bryce wasn’t sure that he even believed them that they were here for food. If they had addiction issues at this age, they’d also be accomplished liars. A drug test would shed the light pretty quickly. Lily, however, seemed to believe them.

“Did it ever occur to you that Mom might need some help?” she demanded. “Randy, you’re sixteen, and Burke, you could have gotten a job last year. If you worked this summer, you could give Mom a bit toward groceries. What makes you think that you’re owed everything?”

“Come on, Lily. You’re our sister.”

“Do you have any idea how much it would cost to fix that window after you broke it open?” she demanded.

“You’ve got a customer coming soon. Charge him extra.”

“Officer Camden here is my guest for the next two weeks,” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes flashed in anger, but she seemed to be trying to keep it under control.

“Oh.” Both looked Bryce. “We thought—”

“You thought what, exactly?” Lily’s tone turned dangerous. “I don’t care what you see on TV, you should know better than to assume that about me.” The boys looked sheepish, and Lily shook her head. “I have half a mind to drag you to church with me this Sunday and get your heads on straight. The next time you come into my house without first being invited inside, I will press charges.”

“What?” Burke looked offended. “So now we aren’t welcome here?”

“You are not welcome to climb through my windows!” Lily closed her eyes, then sighed. “Consider this a warning, boys. If you did this to anyone else, you’d be getting yourselves a criminal record. This is mine. My home. My life. My business. Hands off!”

“Fine,” Randy muttered sarcastically. “Nice to know you care.”

“I do care.” She marched over to a closet, wrenched it open and pulled out four boxes of cereal. Apparently, Lily also used her cottage for extra pantry storage. “I, more than anyone else in this town, care for you, and enough to make sure you don’t land yourself in jail one of these days for being utter morons.” Her eyes flashed fury, and she shoved the cereal boxes into their hands. “I’ll bring by some groceries tomorrow, but if I ever catch you drinking again—”

When Lily told him that she’d raised four little brothers, he’d had a cuter mental image than this one. These young men were out of control, and while Lily seemed to believe that all they wanted was a snack, he highly doubted it. If they were willing to break into their sister’s house, then he suspected they’d be willing to walk off with something they could sell for extra cash. He was more cynical when it came to people’s criminal capabilities.

Five minutes later, Lily’s brothers were gone, the baby had finished her bottle, and Lily had sunk into a chair by the window, looking tired.

“Did you want some tea?” Lily asked. “I could go over to the house and put on a kettle.”

“No.” Bryce fixed her with a direct stare. “I don’t need looking after. I want to know what that was.”

“My brothers.”

“Yeah, apparently,” he said with a shake of his head. “How often have they done this before?”

“I didn’t have the doors locked before,” she said with a sigh. “But with a guest, I obviously can’t have my brothers coming and going like they own the place.”

So maybe there was a chance that this was a food run, after all. He was having trouble garnering any respect for the young men, though. They obviously felt completely entitled to everything that their sister had worked for.

“She needs to be burped,” Lily said, grabbing a cloth and putting it over her shoulder. Bryce lifted the baby, and as she came upright, she let out a wet burp that dribbled down his wrist and onto the floor.

“Oh, that must feel better,” Lily crooned, taking the baby from him and putting her up onto her shoulder, where she continued to pat her back. “Let me get you a cloth, Bryce.”

She cast him a humored smile while he stared down at the dribbling mess. This was most definitely gross, and he’d seen a lot in his career.

“They aren’t bad boys,” Lily went on, passing him a cloth. “They’re angry. They’re lonely. They—” She shrugged. “They treat me like a second mother half the time. My dad died just after the youngest were born—they’re twins—so I pitched in and took over at home while my mom worked to keep us fed. It turned into an odd dynamic.”

Bryce wiped his arm, then the floor, his mind going back to his own father. His dad had left when he was six—a cocky police officer who ruffled his son’s hair and said, Don’t worry, Bryce. I’ll be around. Famous last words, because he saw his father only a few times a year after that, and Bryce and his mother had been left to figure it out together.

“My dad was out of the picture pretty early, too,” Bryce said. “You do what you have to.”

“Well, I didn’t do it well enough, if they turned out like this.” She turned sad eyes toward the window as if she could see them in her mind’s eye.

“You were a kid yourself.”

She smiled wanly. “I suppose.”

“You were right, though, that they’ll end up with a criminal record that way,” he said.

“I know.” She met his gaze frankly. “And I’m worried about them.”

If she gave an inch, those boys would take over everything she’d worked for. Bryce could see that clearly enough—just as clearly as he could see that she loved them quite ferociously.

“Don’t feel bad about having your own life,” he said.

“I don’t.” She rubbed gentle circles onto the baby’s back, and from Bryce’s position, he could see that Emily was asleep again. “I want my freedom. I want my own life. I want to take care of me, and only me, and not have to think about everyone who needs something from me all the time.”

“And foster care?” It didn’t seem to fit into that description.

“I’m only the backup foster care around here,” she said, “but even so, I’m supposed to be taking some time away from it all.”

He could understand that. She’d obviously been in the role of caregiver ever since she was a kid. Kids never did a very good job of raising each other. He didn’t blame their mother, and he didn’t blame Lily. They’d done the best they could after a death.

“Is that selfish?” she asked.

“Nope.” He cast her a smile.

Lily moved Emily and looked down into her sleeping face. “I’ve wanted to run a B and B since I was a kid, and I want to do this on my own.”

“Freedom,” he said.

“Freedom.” A smile spread over her face, and a glimmer of light came back into her eyes. “I’ve been holding out for this since I turned eighteen, and I thought I’d finally gotten it.”

Lily looked up at the clock on the wall, and Bryce’s eyes followed hers. It was nearly midnight.

“I’d better get the baby back to bed,” she said. “I’m really sorry about tonight.”

“I know.” He grinned. “Those Yelp reviews can be brutal.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You aren’t half as funny as you think you are, Bryce.” She paused, grimaced. “Please don’t mention this on Yelp.”

“I was joking.” He caught her eye. “I promise. Have a good night. I’ll lock up over in the house.”

She gave him a tired smile, and he went to the door.

“Emily really likes you,” she said softly, and Bryce turned back. Lily cradled the baby in her arms, and somehow when she was cuddling the infant, everything about her looked softer. She was beautiful in a way that went right down to the core, and it warmed a place in his heart that he wasn’t comfortable peeking into. He wasn’t good for kids. He wasn’t a family man. He was a good cop, and he was a good man deep down, but he knew where to draw the line.

“You’re going to have to teach her to have better taste in men,” he said wryly, then turned back to the door. “Good night, Lily.”

Lily deserved her taste of freedom, and while he didn’t know if it was even possible, he’d like to be the one to break her out.

* * *

The next day, Lily stood in the guest room Bryce was occupying, pulling the sheets from the bed. Her mind was on the episode from the night before, her stomach clenched in anxiety. He was a cop—a cop! And her brothers had tried to break into the house where he was sleeping. She was grateful he hadn’t arrested them on the spot and brought them into the station. She was even more grateful he hadn’t pressed charges.

Not that they didn’t deserve it. That was the worst part. She tore the bottom sheet from the mattress and wadded it into a ball. This could have been the start of a criminal record for each. They were still her little brothers, and the thought of them facing authorities was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered. Why did the boys have to ignore every piece of advice she gave them? Why couldn’t they see the consequences waiting for them? And while she’d thought that a B and B would be a great idea for this town to house the visiting officers, last night she realized exactly what she’d done—set up her own brothers’ eventual arrests if she couldn’t get them straightened out.

She definitely needed to step back from any foster parenting—her hands were already full with the boys. What good was she to the kids who’d move through her home if she couldn’t be the same stable influence for her own brothers? Family was supposed to come first.

Bryce’s suitcase lay on one chair, zipped shut. If it weren’t for that bag, she would hardly have seen any evidence of him being here. She looked at it for a moment, pushing back the temptation to snoop. She wasn’t a snoop by nature—it was that little rebellious streak inside her that constantly wondered What if I just...

When her boyfriend had asked her to move to Denver with him three years ago, it was What if I just left? What if I started a whole new life in a big city? But even then, she knew enough to realize that if she walked away, she couldn’t live with the consequences of how it would affect the lives of her little brothers.

She’d been praying all morning that God would show her how to protect those boys, from everything...including the cop under her roof. It was crazy to think of an officer of the law as the enemy, because she’d always been a friend of the police force. But this was about her brothers, and her protective instincts superseded anything else. Maybe if they grew up a little more...maturity might make a difference. Randy and Burke were sixteen and fifteen respectively, and the twins were only thirteen. None of the boys were terribly mature yet.

And Bryce was kindly helping her look into Aaron Bay. A good thing—she knew that! But that also pulled him in closer to her personal life, and that included her brothers. She’d set this whole thing up, and she felt trapped.

After her brothers left, she’d gone back to bed, but she’d been woken up twice by a very hungry little Emily. And as she looked around this room, she wished that she could be more focused on her business. She’d wanted this for so long, and she was deeply proud of this house, the decor, her careful plans to make sure her guests had as pleasant a stay as possible, and she regretted being unable to focus on it completely. But with everything that was happening around here, she just couldn’t.

In fact, she’d just gotten off the phone with her aunt, who’d been gushing over honeymoon plans. Apparently, they wanted to go to Europe—a perfectly romantic-sounding trip, except that Lily’s first thought was that her aunt would be off American soil, which felt more vulnerable. Lily knew she was trying to protect all of them, but was she strong enough to pull it off?

She flapped a sheet over the mattress, and it came down in a white billow. As she tucked the corners in tightly, she remembered all her daydreams as she got ready to open her bed-and-breakfast. None of them had included all the other drama. Her vision of owning her own business had included her being able to focus on the running of it without constant interruption. She’d imagined herself doing laundry, cooking meals, making up the perfect brunch for her guests, picking apples from the trees out back to make homemade pies—

Okay, it was possible that her daydreams had been slightly idealized... She hadn’t anticipated how much real life would creep in, though. She’d wanted some freedom, but when you loved people as deeply as she loved her family, maybe that kind of independence wasn’t possible.

Lily flapped the next sheet over the bed and tucked it in with efficient swipes. She pulled a wrapped chocolate out of her apron pocket and deposited it onto the pillow, then grabbed the jar of flowers off the bedside table. She’d bring up some fresh ones later on.

The doorbell rang, and Lily trotted down the stairs to open the door. She glanced into her sitting room where Emily slept, then came to the front door and pulled it open.

Bryce stood on the doorstep. He’d arrived in a police minivan. Her heart skipped a beat—a cop on her doorstep...just like she’d feared. She looked around him at the unimpressive vehicle.

“Since I’m only here for a couple of weeks, they assigned me the loser cruiser,” Bryce said with a grin.

Lily laughed, pushing back her anxiety. This was her job—this was her guest. She could only take care of what was in front of her.

“As a guest here, you don’t have to ring the bell, you know,” she said.

“Didn’t want to be mistaken for your brothers.” He shot her a teasing grin. “You looked like you could have done damage.”

If only he could forget about her brothers. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” He stepped inside. “I did do a little digging for you, though.”

“Oh?” Lily’s curiosity flared up at those words. She wasn’t sure what she’d hoped for, but some answers about her aunt’s fiancé would be a bigger relief than he probably realized. She led the way to the kitchen, where she tossed the old flowers into the garbage and put the mason jar in the sink. She turned back toward Bryce. “What did you find?”

“Good news and bad news.” He paused, that little smile toying at his lips again. “The good news is that he has absolutely no criminal record. No outstanding warrants.”

“That’s a relief.” Maybe she’d been worrying for nothing, after all.

“He also has no tickets or driving infractions.”

“Okay.” Was Bryce just rubbing it in now? “I guess we were wrong. That’s a good thing. Thanks for looking into it.”

She turned on the water and rinsed out the jar, then put it onto the dish rack to dry. Bryce didn’t say anything else until she turned again and saw him watching her, arms crossed over his chest.

“The bad news is that he’s most definitely not who he claims to be. He doesn’t have much of a government paper trail at all.” Bryce’s voice was low and soft. “He has a credit history that’s about ten years old. Anything before that is a black hole. He has a driver’s license—again, obtained ten years ago. No birth certificate. I can dig some more, though. I could find out what ID he used to get the driver’s license here.”

Lily turned this information over in her mind slowly. How did a person go through life without leaving much of a trail? She personally had all sorts of proof of her existence, from parking tickets to the mortgage on this house. A person put their signature down so many times during a lifetime, even in order to move into another state, that it seemed impossible to have no paper trail fated further back than ten years. Obviously something happened ten years ago.

“There are about two hundred Aaron Bays in the United States right now, so investigating could take some time.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

“So, what’s he hiding?”

“Hard to tell without a little more digging,” he said. “And now I’m curious. There is definitely something up.”

Lily nodded. It looked like her suspicions had been right, after all. It was one thing to imagine the worst, and quite another to have her worry supported by a police officer.

“I should add, though,” Bryce said, “while I’m looking into this, it would be best not to tell anyone else about it. If we come up with a perfectly logical explanation for it all, and in the meantime we’ve turned your entire family against the guy—”

Lily nodded and leaned back against the sink. “That’s a good point.” Her mind went back to her aunt’s invitation to dinner tonight. She’d turned her down, saying that she had a lodger and couldn’t get away, but an idea was percolating. It was risky—it would pull him in closer to her family matters, but it could also distract him from her brothers, and possibly give them all the answers they needed before this wedding.

“How would you like to see him in person tonight?”

Bryce raised an eyebrow. “How would you pull that off?”

“My aunt asked me to dinner so she could see Emily.” She shrugged. “What self-respecting aunt doesn’t want to snuggle a baby?”

“Wouldn’t it be a little strange for me to come along?”

It would, she had to admit. But if Bryce were more than a friend, his presence would be explained easily enough.

“We could take our chances on that,” she said. “We’ll tell them that you’re my first guest and that I’m terrible with professional boundaries. Which is entirely true.”

Bryce was silent for a moment, and she wondered if she’d overstepped once more. Then he nodded, humor sparking in his eyes.

“Yeah, that would be good. I’m curious to sit down with the guy.”

“So should I tell her that we’ll be there?” she asked.

Bryce turned toward the doorway of the kitchen, then paused and looked back at her.

“Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’ve got a meeting with the chief in about fifteen minutes, so I should head out.” A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I have to say—my stay in your town isn’t turning out to be anything like I expected.”

It wasn’t anything like she’d imagined, either.

“We’re like that around here,” she replied. “Welcome to Comfort Creek.”


Chapter Three (#u892e2ff7-b5d1-566a-8074-3c88b2ad6476)

Bryce was used to driving a regular police cruiser, and being in the “loser cruiser” made him feel like a kid with a dunce cap. He wasn’t here to do any real police work—and that point was made clear by the minivan. No one would take him seriously in this thing.

I can survive anything for two weeks, he reminded himself.

The discipline was the embarrassing part of this. He didn’t need to learn his lesson about not lashing out. He knew that full well, and he was going to make sure it never happened again. He didn’t need the attitude adjustment, so coming out here like one of the department’s problem officers stung. His dad had been a problem officer, and he wondered if this chastisement was because of the shadow his father had cast. Like father, like son, right?

He glanced at his watch. He was due to be in a meeting with the chief in about ten minutes. Today, the “book work” portion of his sensitivity training started. He wasn’t looking forward to this. This was the place where they outlined for him in painful, workbook-filled detail that he shouldn’t pummel fellow officers. It was like writing lines in elementary school.

I will not punch idiot coworkers.

I will not punch idiot coworkers.

I will not—

Bryce wouldn’t let himself be baited like that again. Part of what made this so humiliating was that Leroy was proving a point—Bryce was just like his father. His dad had been disciplined twice for excessive use of force, and in the end they’d found him involved with a couple of other officers who’d been taking bribes. While his father hadn’t been caught red-handed, he did resign quite promptly, and the rumors swirled. Richard Camden was a prime example of when good cops go bad, and his reputation was forever tarnished.

If he’d been innocent, why resign? Why not clear his name? By that time, Bryce was already a young officer on the force, and his father’s fall from grace had hurt him, too. The thing was, Bryce had hoped that he and his dad could bond over some mutual ground now that they were both cops. He’d hoped that his distant, negligent father would see someone in Bryce he could be proud of at long last, but there hadn’t been time for any of that. When his father was disgraced, Bryce lost a last, tenuous connection to his father. Turned out that his dad didn’t have a good excuse for his parental absence, after all. And now that Bryce was a cop, and his father was no longer on the force, it only pushed Bryce further away.

The Comfort Creek police station was a quaint little affair, and it reminded Bryce of Mayberry and The Andy Griffith Show. The whole town had that feeling about it—like all problems should be able to be solved in twenty-two minutes, and end with some time at a fishing hole. If only real life were so picturesque.

Bryce parked and hopped out into the warm summer sunlight. He stepped over the bulging cracks in the asphalt where the tree roots were barging through, and trotted up the front steps to the station. The receptionist gave him a curt nod as he came inside—obviously she was used to the run of visiting officers and hadn’t much time for pleasantries. It was just as well. He was feeling less than pleasant anyway.

He headed toward the chief’s office, and when he stopped at the door, Chief Morgan waved him in.

“Good. You’re here.” He sat behind a desk, typing away at something, and only glanced up for a moment.

“Hi, Chief,” Bryce said.

The chief motioned for him to close the door and turned back to his computer. Bryce sat down in the chair opposite and waited. The rattle of keys filled the room, and Bryce glanced around. There were a few pictures of the chief with a yellow Labrador retriever, but that was it for personal effects. There were a couple diplomas on the wall, an award or two, a picture of the chief in full uniform next to a portly-looking fellow—a mayor, maybe? He looked official. The smile didn’t seem to make it to either man’s eyes.

“Okay.” Chief Morgan hit the last button on his keyboard and turned toward Bryce. “So today we start the more in-depth part of your training.”

Bryce tried to look appropriately interested. “I’m ready, sir.”

“Great.” The chief leaned back in his chair. “So tell me about this fight.”

“It was stupid, sir. Nothing to tell.”

“Do you tend to hit other officers for no reason at all?” he inquired, arching one brow.

“Not normally, sir.”

“So there was more to this, then.” The chief looked at him evenly. “Because I’ve looked at your record, and you’re generally a good officer. You work hard. You take extra shifts. You hand in your paperwork on time, and besides being late a few times, your history is good.”

It was in direct contrast to his father’s track record, and while Bryce had been proud of his clean slate, there had been a small part of him—the boy inside—who worried that it would only push him further away from his dad. What would it take to get an “atta boy” from his old man?

“Thanks for that, sir.”

“So what’s the deal, then?”

Bryce sighed. “It was a low blow, sir. Officer Higgins had been pestering me about a personal matter for weeks, and one day after a long shift when I was tired, I snapped.”

“Hmm.” Chief Morgan nodded slowly. “Do you know that I know your father?”

Bryce felt the blood drain from his face, and he attempted to keep his composure, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“I’m not my old man, sir.” Bryce glanced back at the chief irritably. “With all due respect.”

“Your father is the reason I’m the cop I am today,” the chief went on. “I worked for a few months in Fort Collins before I was able to get a position here at home. He was my first partner, and he showed me the ropes. We kept up with each other over the years. He wasn’t a conventional cop, but I don’t think he was dirty. If he’d been guilty of taking bribes, he’d have been charged.”

Bryce tried to hide his surprise. It was a small county, apparently, and this was the last place he’d think to look for someone who actually sided with his dad.

“Looks like you saw more of him than I did, sir,” Bryce replied.

Silence stretched between them, but Bryce could read sympathy on the chief’s face.

“I said he was a good partner, not a good father,” the chief said quietly. “There’s a difference.”

This was getting way more personal than he was comfortable with. “I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same to you.”

“He called me,” Chief Morgan said.

Bryce suppressed a wince. So after all this time his father decided to take an interest in him? Great timing.

“What did he want?” Bryce asked warily. Somehow that made it worse, having his father know about his failure. Or was this a silver lining—something in common at long last? He didn’t want it this way. He’d never dreamed of bonding with his dad at rock bottom.

“He asked me to go easy on you.”

Bryce barked out a laugh. “This isn’t exactly Guantanamo Bay!”

“That’s pretty close to what I said.” The chief laughed softly. “The thing is, good officers climb and climb, and sometimes the pressure gets to be too much. They burn out. They make a bad choice, and then they topple from their pedestal.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Bryce said drily. “I’m just like my old man. I’m a good officer who made a dumb choice. Maybe I should forgive my father for his twenty-odd years of shortcomings.”

Chief Morgan ignored the dripping sarcasm and shrugged. “Forgive him or not, I don’t really care. And I didn’t say you were like him.”

“Then what are you getting at?” Bryce demanded. “Because this is pretty personal here.”

“I know that Officer Higgins had been needling you about your father,” Chief Morgan said.

“Oh.” So that little nugget had been passed along, too, had it? He might have opened with that and saved them this delightful back-and-forth.

“And I think that when you make your peace with your father’s failure, you’ll be a better officer.”

Bryce clenched his teeth and looked away. So now Chief Morgan was going to play shrink with him? Since when did his personal issues with his old man have anything to do with his ability to do his job? It was one mistake to hit Higgins, and everyone was treating him like some sort of ticking time bomb, ready to go at any moment. He was professional. He was thorough. He did his job, and when he clocked out at the end of the day, if he held a few resentments against the father who abandoned him, it was no one else’s business.

“You disagree?” Chief Morgan asked.

“I do.” Bryce shook his head. “I imagine you’ve got a few personal issues of your own, Chief. Every man has them, but it doesn’t make it the business of the precinct.”

“It is if it affects your ability to be a good cop,” came the reply. “You carry a badge and a gun. You’d better have your personal demons well in hand.”

The chief opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small notebook. He tossed it across the desk toward Bryce.

“What’s this?” Bryce asked.

“A notebook.” The chief nodded toward it. “I want you to write down every time you pretend to be something you’re not.”

“Excuse me?” Who didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t from time to time? Every man did it, from pretending to be stronger than he was to pretending not to feel things. That was the male experience. Men weren’t allowed to be scared. They weren’t allowed to cry. They kept tough. They proved their fathers wrong.

“That’s your assignment,” the chief said. “Write down every time you pretend to be something you’re not.”

“I heard you the first time,” Bryce said. “But that’s a little ridiculous, isn’t it? We do that constantly in this job. We have to look tougher than we are. We have an image to maintain. We don’t show fear, we show confidence.”

“Then you should fill it up pretty fast,” the chief said with a smile.

“And if I refuse?” Bryce asked.

“You’re well within your rights,” the chief said with a nod. “If you don’t want to do it my way, then you can do it Larimer County’s way. I have a room filled with training binders all about feelings and appropriate responses to them. You could get started today, and I’m pretty sure you could work through about fifteen to twenty of them by the end of your time here.”

That was playing dirty. Bryce could do it the chief’s way, or spend his next two weeks hip-deep in procedural training.

“You make a compelling argument, sir,” Bryce said. He reached for the little notebook and tucked it into his pocket. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Glad to hear it.” The chief shot him a grin. “You’ll be patrolling in town with the other officers, and we’ll sit down and discuss the list you’ve written in a few days. Have a good day, Officer Camden.”

The chief turned away, and Bryce rose to his feet. That was it? He waited for a moment to see if the chief would say anything more, but he didn’t look up again. Bryce walked to the door and opened it, then looked back.

“Say, Chief?” he said.

“Yes?” Chief Morgan looked up.

“If I’m going to be on patrol, what do you say about assigning me a better vehicle?”

Chief Morgan narrowed his eyes in thought, then slowly shook his head. “Sorry, can’t do it.”

“No other cars available?” Bryce asked.

“No, I have three in the parking lot, but this is good for you. It’ll give you a bit of a jump on your assignment there.”

Bryce bit back the retort that flew to his lips and shook his head.

“All right. Thanks anyway, sir.”

He stepped outside the office and was careful not to shut the chief’s door too loudly. So driving that ridiculous minivan was part of the game here, was it? Fine. He’d do his time, and when he was done, he’d go back to his regular post and his regular life in Fort Collins.

I can survive anything for two weeks.

* * *

Lily was the kind of woman who spoke her mind and then regretted it later. She’d gone over that conversation with Bryce in her mind thirty times already, and every time she came to the same conclusion: she’d gone too far. Bryce wasn’t from Comfort Creek. He wasn’t one of them, and she couldn’t treat him like he was. While his help was appreciated and his focus on her aunt was far preferable to his focus on her brothers, it was still a huge breach of professionalism, and she regretted that.

That evening, Lily dressed Emily in a sundress she’d been given by a neighbor and wondered if she could fix this. But how? Bryce had agreed to help them look into Aaron—that was worth something. Why, oh why, didn’t she think a little more before opening her mouth and telling a relative stranger all of their family business? Except that her brothers had tried to break into the house, and so that hadn’t been avoidable, and her aunt...well, she had been preoccupied with Aunt Clarisse, and apparently, Lily talked too much. And that talkative, too-open personality was her bane. She longed to be elegant and self-controlled. She just...wasn’t.

Emily’s little legs poked out the bottom of her sundress looking as fragile as porcelain. The baby socks she’d been given kept falling off—too big for those newborn feet—and so she decided to forget about them.

The daylight from the window lit up the room, but the veranda blocked the actual rays of sun. She could see the backs of two chairs from the front porch against the window pane, and she paused to look outside onto the expanse of lawn and that towering elm. Bryce’s minivan turned into the drive. He probably thought she was insane, but it was too late now.

Emily lay on a blanket on the floor. She looked up at Lily, her big brown eyes trying to focus on her face. She leaned closer to the baby and smiled.

“Hi, sweetie,” she crooned. “You look so pretty!”

Emily’s arms flailed, and in spite of all the other drama, a wave of affection rose up inside Lily. This little girl was so precious, yet she was starting out her life with so many challenges. The baby was trying to bond—to find out who would protect her—and Lily wasn’t her mother. She was temporary foster care. She wasn’t the one Emily was supposed to connect with. But how could a newborn not bond with anyone? She had to. And how could Lily stop her own growing affection?

The front door opened, and Bryce’s footsteps echoed in the foyer. He appeared at the door to the sitting room.

“You said before not to knock,” he said, shooting her a grin. “Are we leaving now, or—”

“Is this crazy?” she asked, picking the baby up and rising to her feet. “I mean...I’m overstepping tonight, aren’t I?”

“Oh, totally,” he replied, his expression deadpan. “This is positively nuts, but it kind of beats the other things I had planned.”

She laughed, then stopped short. “I’m serious, though.”

He was joking around, and she was trying to find her footing here.

“Me, too.” He shrugged. “Look, I could check into Aaron in a less obvious way, if you want. I don’t have to come along. But now that you’ve given me the heads-up, I’m definitely going to look into him. Whether this little dinner happens tonight or not. So no pressure.”

“Are you comfortable coming along?” she asked.

“I look at it as undercover work.” He flashed a grin. “Speaking of which, I’d better get changed. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Bryce’s footsteps moved up the stairs, and she looked down at Emily. How had she gotten herself into all of this? A baby to care for, a wedding to investigate, her brothers picking the worst time imaginable to beg for attention in the most effective way possible... Add to that this handsome officer that she found herself attracted to, and she needed to keep her head on straight.

A few minutes later, Bryce came back down dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray polo shirt.

“So how are your brothers today?” he asked.

What could she say? He already knew too much about the boys.

“They’re fine...far as I know.” She shook her head. “They aren’t normally quite that bad, so I have to apologize—”

“Sure they are,” he countered.

Maybe they were, but she didn’t like to admit to it, especially to a police officer. She knew how they looked—how they all looked. She saw the boys differently than anyone else did, though. She saw the little round cherub faces that they used to have. She felt her cheeks heat at his directness.

“So we aren’t going to politely pretend that everything is hunky-dory?” she asked. “We can’t rewind a little bit there and let me have this?”

“Not tonight,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not going to judge, though. I used to be a lot like them.”

That did help a little bit. She’d called it before—sensed he was just like her brothers on some level. Maybe he’d be less inclined to teach them a lesson legally, or was she being too hopeful there?

“I could see that,” she replied.

“Yeah?” He laughed. “Well, I turned out all right—” He paused, grimaced. “Besides being here for disciplinary action, of course. But that’s complicated.”

“How much like them were you?” she asked cautiously.

“I stole a car...my uncle’s. I was arrested for it. My dad—the cop—called my uncle and talked it out with him. He dropped the charges. It was pretty serious. I could have ended up in juvenile hall.”

“Ouch.” Yes, it sounded like he did understand. “Getting arrested—did it do you any good?”

He was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “It certainly scared me straight.”

Lily glanced at the clock on the wall. They’d need to leave soon to get to her aunt’s place on time, and this conversation was getting more personal. What was it about Bryce that kept her slipping right back into that unprofessional territory?

“You ready?” he asked.

“I just need to put the car seat into the back of the car,” she said. “And I’ll drive.”

She felt more comfortable driving—it kept her in control, and right now she needed that.

As Lily turned toward the door, her sandaled foot hit something wet on the hardwood floor. Her heel slipped, and her heart flew to her throat. Just as the thought sparked in her mind that she was about to fall, a solid arm shot out and clamped around her rib cage, catching her in one arm, with the other broad hand placed protectively over the baby’s back. Bryce pulled her hard against his side, and she could feel the solidness of his ribs against hers.

Lily sucked in a surprised breath and looked up, past that strong shoulder and into Bryce’s face, which was now only inches from her own. She could see the roughness of his stubble, the tiny lines around his eyes, and could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek.

“You okay?” His voice was low and warm, and his grip on her loosened as she regained her balance.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” She looked down at the baby, who didn’t seemed the least fazed by their near fall.

“Good.” He released them then, and her waist felt suddenly cool where his arm had been. She looked over to find his eyes pinned to her, his expression revealing nothing of what he was feeling underneath. She was struck by how quickly he’d moved and by how easily he’d caught her.

She let out a shaky breath.

“Let’s go then,” she said quickly, unwilling to admit to herself how nice it had been to fall into those strong arms. She couldn’t get used to that. He was helpful, he seemed genuine, he was willing to look into Aaron for them...but he was also very temporary, and he knew too much. She should at least try to regain some professional composure with this man. He was her first guest, after all, and she wanted to do this right.

Unfortunately, she was bringing him to a family dinner to investigate her aunt’s fiancé. “Doing it right” had pretty much sailed. She might have to start fresh with the next guest, and just accept that things had gotten out of hand with Bryce from the start.


Chapter Four (#u892e2ff7-b5d1-566a-8074-3c88b2ad6476)

Even though the baby was in a rear-facing car seat, Bryce kept looking back to check on her. From her silence, he concluded she was sleeping. He didn’t have to worry; she was most certainly Lily’s job now, but Piglet had snuggled her way into the back of his mind. Maybe it was how he’d met her at the police station, or her clear preference for him his first night at Lily’s place, but he still couldn’t shake a certain feeling of responsibility for the kid.

“Is she sleeping?” Lily asked.

“I think so.”

The sun was low in the sky as they drove down a rural gravel road, the shadows stretching long and slow like taffy. The road ran straight, going up and down unending hills so that they went from golden evening sunlight to chilly shadow, and then back up again. The mailboxes at the end of driveways out here didn’t have numbers, they had names: the Wetsteins, the Millgroves, the Burnetts.

Lily leaned back in the driver’s seat, comfortable and relaxed. She tugged her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her eyes, and Bryce looked quickly away. She was pretty in a way that seemed to draw him in—her milky skin, those sky-blue eyes, her long lashes—and he had to keep some firm control on his impulses. He wasn’t here to get attached, and just because he’d landed in Lily’s B and B with nothing but time on his hands didn’t mean that he had the luxury of letting himself feel.

Lily had tried to back off to more professional territory this evening, and he hadn’t complied. That had been selfish on his part, but he found himself liking this view into her life. She was tender but tough, and he’d realized that her opening up the way she had was comforting. She was one of the few people who hadn’t treated him like a live grenade since he’d punched Leroy.





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