The Sergeant's Unexpected Family

by Carrie Nichols

  He took the wet cloth from her, his fingers brushing hers and jolting him with that spark of awareness—awareness that Mary was more than Elliott’s mother.

  Turning from temptation, he concentrated on getting his nephew cleaned up. Not easy with a moving target, but he wiped Elliott’s face and pulled him from the high chair.

  Mary reached for her son, but Brody kept him out of reach. “Let me make sure I got it all.”

  “That’s right. This sweater belongs to Meg Cooper.” She smoothed the long sweater over her hips.

  “I meant you look nice. Not that you wouldn’t look nice in something else.” Or in nothing at all. He sighed. At least no one could accuse him of being a smooth talker.

  “It’s a Hepburn sweater, and they’re popular and classic for a reason.”

  “Would you please tell your mom I’m trying to tell her how pretty she is? Maybe she’ll believe you,” he said to Elliott in an exaggerated tone, and the baby responded by giggling.

  Brody glanced at her. “See? He agrees with me.”

  “Thank you...both,” Mary said, her cheeks pink. “He looks clean. I’ll take him if you want to wipe off, too.”

  Brody glanced at his shirt, which was now liberally sprinkled with baby food. “Yeah, let me get a clean one.”

  After changing, Brody went back downstairs and followed the sound of Mary’s voice to find her on the porch swing with Elliott on her lap, as they watched the horses grazing in the distance.

  Mary stood and settled the baby on her hip. “Are the horses friendly?”

  “Yes. Do you ride?” An image of her astride a horse, laughing, her hair trailing out behind her, popped into his head before she answered.

  “No, but I’m sure I could learn.”

  “I’m sure you could.” Oh, yeah, he definitely wanted to teach her. “For starters, I’ll introduce you to them when we get back. I want to get to the drugstore before it closes.”

  Mary glanced at her watch. “But...”

  “They close early on Wednesdays so the pharmacist can take his granddaughter fishing,” he explained.

  “For real?” Mary gave him a skeptical look.

  “Honest to God.” He’d gotten used to the pace of life in Loon Lake and forgot it sometimes came as a shock to others. “Small-town living.”

  “I think we’re going to enjoy it here.” She gave Elliott a hug. “What do you think?”

  Elliott tried to stick his fish-shaped blue teething toy into her mouth. She avoided the drool-covered offering. “Your prescription. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “It’s not for me. One of the horses is on an inflammatory drug regimen, the vet calls it in and the pharmacy compounds it. Makes it easier.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Believe me, you don’t want to give a horse pills.”

  “I’m sure there’s a wonderful punch line out there somewhere, but I got nothing.” She made a tsking sound. “Sorry.”

  He tickled Elliott, who giggled. “Should we let her off this time? Whaddaya think, big guy?”

  “You guys are a tough crowd.” Mary’s lips twitched.

  Brody zeroed in on that mouth. If he leaned a little closer, he could—thwack. A teething toy collided with his lips. Served him right for having those thoughts about the little guy’s mom. He moved out of range of those tempting lips and the fish-shaped toy. “After the drugstore, we’ll go to see Tavie. I’m sure she’s chomping at the bit to meet you.”

  “Tavie is Ogle’s wife, right? The one who arranged for all the baby things?” she asked as she reached down to get her purse and the diaper bag from the swing.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’d like to thank her for her generosity.”

  * * *

  While Brody waited for his prescription, Glenda, the pharmacy tech, kept glancing at the three of them and smiling. He could just imagine the gossip flowing as soon as they left. He’d told Mary when they first walked into the store she could shop around, but she seemed content to stand next to him while he waited. To be honest, he didn’t mind the idea of gossip as much as he might have three years ago. Or even three days ago.

  A pattering of footsteps had Elliott straining to look over Mary’s shoulder. The baby kicked his legs and squealed. Brody turned as Riley and Meg Cooper’s six-year-old dynamo, Fiona, barreled down the aisle toward them. Her mass of red curls bounced like marionettes as she skidded to a stop in front of them, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.

  “Mr. Brody, hi.” Fiona gave him a gap-toothed smile, her lower incisors missing.

  “Well, if it isn’t Miss Fiona.” Brody leaned over and gave her a high five, which she returned, setting off giggles, her bony shoulders rising and falling. “Mary, this is Fiona, Deputy Cooper’s daughter.”

  “Glad to meet you, Fiona,” Mary said.

  Fiona pointed at Elliott. “We’re gettin’ a baby. Right now he’s in Mommy’s tummy. Mommy says we’re gonna name him James Riley. Daddy let me pick out my doggy’s name, but Mommy says she gets to name the baby. Daddy says it’s ’cuz I picked Mangy.” Fiona pushed her pink glasses higher on her nose and studied Elliott. “What’s his name?”

  Mary’s amused smile lit up her face, making Brody’s breath hitch in his chest. He could look at her all day and not get bored.

  “His name is Elliott.” Mary squatted and balanced the baby on her knee to give Fiona a better look. “Elliott, can you say hi to Fiona?”

  “Hey.” Fiona leaned closer, resting her hands on her knees. “Elliott is the name of the boy in E.T.”

  Mary caught Elliott’s chubby hand in hers when he reached out, making a grab for Fiona’s hair or her wire-rimmed pink glasses, both enticing targets for the curious baby. “Do you like that movie?”

  “Uh-huh, Daddy watched it with me. And he didn’t even complain when I wanted to watch again. Mommy said—” Fiona waved a finger back and forth “—Daddy has had to watch that dang movie a mill-ee-yawn times, young lady.”

  Elliott kicked his legs and tried to catch Fiona’s finger. Laughing, Mary said, “Sounds like you have a very patient daddy.”

  “I guess.” Fiona straightened and studied Mary. “Are you that lady Mommy says is living with Mr. Brody on his aminal farm?”

  Brody tugged one of Fiona’s pigtails. “Her name is Mary. She and Elliott are visiting me.”

  “Daddy visited us, then me and Mommy married him. And now I’m Fiona Cooper. Mr. Brody?” Fiona gazed up at him expectantly. “Are you gonna marry Elliott’s mommy and change his name?”

  “No, it’s not like that.” Brody ran a finger under his shirt collar and avoided eye contact with Mary. “I mean...this is different. Your daddy was always your daddy, Fiona. Even before he and your mommy got married. But Elliott...well, Elliott’s my nephew and he’s visiting.”

  She canted her head and looked up at him. “So you’re not gonna marry Miss Mary and be Elliott’s daddy?”

  “Absolutely not. I mean Elliott isn’t... I’m not... Mary doesn’t...” Stuff a sock in it, Wilson. He glanced around. Where the heck was Meg? And why wasn’t she supervising her chatterbox of a daughter?

  Fiona’s gray eyes were large behind the lenses of her glasses as she shifted her gaze from him to Mary. “But—”

  “Fiona Bridget Cooper!” Meg hurried up the aisle and placed her hands on her daughter’s slender shoulders. “What did I tell you about wandering off?”

  “Not to do it?” Fiona glanced up at Meg. “But, Mommy—”

  “But, Fiona,” Meg mimicked and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Meg Cooper. You’ve already met my husband, Riley, and...” She put her arm around Fiona’s shoulders. “My daughter.”

  “Mommy.” Fiona tugged on Meg’s maternity top and pointed to Elliott. “His name is Elliott. I told them we’re getting a baby boy soon.”

  “Yeah, not soon en
ough.” Meg laughed and rubbed her protruding belly. “I see all the things I’ve heard about what an adorable baby he is are true.”

  “Thank you. And I can’t thank you enough for the loan of the clothes,” Mary said as Meg gushed over Elliott.

  Meg waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Glad to help, and I think that sweater looks better on you than me.”

  Fiona tugged on Meg’s shirt again. “Mommy, Mr. Brody says he’s not going to marry Miss Mary and be Elliott’s daddy.”

  “That’s not any of our business, sweetie.” Meg blushed and shot them an apologetic glance. “Sorry we can’t stay and chat, but we’re meeting Riley for his lunch break, and we’re running late.”

  Brody glanced at Mary as Meg marched her daughter away. What the heck was she thinking? He winced at his reaction to Fiona’s marriage question.

  “Well, that was awkward. I guess I should be thankful no one can understand what Elliott is saying.” Mary laughed, watching Meg and Fiona walk up the aisle.

  “Brody?” The pharmacist cleared his throat. “Any questions?”

  “I’m good. Thanks, Rob.” Brody turned and took the white bag but couldn’t fight the maudlin thoughts assaulting him. They couldn’t be because he was envious of Riley’s family situation. Because he wasn’t. Nope. Not one little bit.

  * * *

  Mary followed Brody to the truck, a dozen thoughts and emotions vying for attention. She hadn’t come here for any sort of personal relationship with Brody other than the one between him and Elliott. He’d taken a physical step away from her when Fiona had asked if he was going to marry her. She wasn’t sure if his action had been conscious or not. Oh my goodness, one kiss from him and she was dithering like a schoolgirl. She laughed at her foolishness.

  Brody glanced at her. “What?”

  “Meg must have her hands full with Fiona. How long have they lived in Loon Lake?” Mary asked as Brody pulled up to the traffic light. She figured Meg Cooper might be a good source of local information. “She sounds like she’s from Boston.”

  “You’re right. She spent summers and school vacations here and then moved permanently into her family’s cottage by the lake about four or five years ago.”

  “Did she meet her husband here?”

  “They’d known one another since childhood. He spent summers here for a while, too. Riley is friends with Meg’s brother, Liam,” Brody said.

  “But they married recently?” At least that’s what she’d gathered from Fiona. She had a feeling there was a story in there somewhere.

  Brody nodded. “A little over a year ago.”

  “I should’ve gotten her phone number. She might be able to point me in the direction of a few things.” And Mary hoped Meg might know of some places for rent. She hadn’t missed the speculative glances the pharmacy tech had given them, even before the little girl had shown up with her awkward questions. No wonder Brody was freaked out by Fiona’s bluntness. She was, too, but his reaction gave her a clear view of reality. Which was fine. She’d come here to give Elliott a link to family, that’s all. So where was this disappointment coming from?

  “I can give you Meg’s number. I’m sure she won’t mind.” He frowned. “But you know I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you might need.”

  “Know a good pediatrician? Or gynecologist?” She grinned.

  He chuckled. “Okay, you got me there.”

  Before Mary could find a way to talk about their situation, they pulled into the gravel lot in front of the general store.

  Loon Lake General Store looked like it belonged on the set of a television show featuring a small-town sheriff and his bumbling deputy. Two ancient gas pumps stood in front of the two-story barn-red wooden building. The entrance was an open porch with hand-painted black-on-white signs, hung between the posts that advertised Vermont cheese, maple syrup and video rentals. On one side of the porch, there was a black deacon’s bench, and on the other a freezer with bagged ice for sale.

  The store fit with her image of the town and its residents. She unbuckled her seat belt and winced when her right shoulder protested. The bruising from the safety strap was easing but still reminded her she’d been in a crash.

  Brody glanced at her. “Wait and let me help you get out.”

  “I’m fine, it’s just a little stiffness,” she said and waved him off, but he rushed around and helped her anyway.

  Brody unlatched the infant carrier from the back seat. When she reached to take it, he said, “I’ve got him. You need to take it easy, doctor’s orders.”

  She rolled her eyes but fell into step as they walked across the parking lot, their feet crunching on the gravel, their arms bumping. Even that impersonal contact sent shivers of awareness through her, but Brody’s “absolutely not” answer to Fiona’s blunt question tempered her feelings. This was all about Elliott. As a baby, he had no control over who was or wasn’t in his life. But she vowed not to be an easy target for any man, even one with eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes designed to make women swoon. How had she not seen Roger for who he was long before Elliott? Nope, she wasn’t getting into the what-if trap. She loved their son enough for the both of them. Brody was nothing like Roger, she could see that blindfolded, but his reaction to Fiona’s question told her all she needed. She’d let him get to know Elliott, but she would never throw herself at him.

  An old-fashioned bell jingled when Brody opened the door. He stepped aside, holding the door so she could enter ahead of him. Talk about stepping back in time. The interior of the store was an explosion of color. Open shelving displayed boxes, cans and jars of all shapes and sizes. Wooden barrels full of bulk dry goods stood in front of a glass display case with deli meats and cheeses.

  But what held Mary’s attention was a display of glass wind chimes and sun catchers. The colors and workmanship reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Chihuly glass sculptures, although on a much smaller scale.

  “It’s high time you brought them to meet me, Brody Wilson.” A seventysomething woman with teased hair reminiscent of earlier times greeted them from behind a long wooden counter located at a right angle to the entrance. “Everyone in town has met them but me.”

  “That’s hardly true,” Brody shot back.

  The older woman speared him with a glare. “You introduced her to Bill Pratt over at Hilltop. How do you explain that?”

  Mary’s instinct was to defend him, but the woman winked at her before turning back to confront Brody.

  “Bill hasn’t given me half the grief you have,” he muttered.

  “Ha! That’s not what I heard.” The woman’s penciled eyebrows rose. “If the story about him bringing you a calf to bottle-feed is true.”

  “Oh, it’s true.” His tone was resigned.

  “That granddaughter has him wrapped around her finger. So...” The woman hitched her chin at Brody. “Introduce me already.”

  Brody rolled his eyes. “Mary Carter, I’d like you to meet Tavie Whatley.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” Mary stepped forward and shook hands.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Mary.” Tavie squeezed Mary’s hand before letting go. “Now, Brody Wilson, you set that baby up here so I can see him, proper like. I’ve heard from everyone how adorable he is.”

  Mary gave Brody a puzzled glance. “Why is everyone talking about Elliott?”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to how quick news travels around here.” Brody set Elliott’s infant seat on top of the counter. “And they love it when they have someone or something new to talk about.”

  Tavie leaned over Elliott and cooed. “Isn’t he just a sweetheart?”

  Elliott gave Tavie a wide, gummy grin, kicking his legs and making Tavie laugh in delight. Mary lifted him out of his seat and rested him on her hip after pulling the teething ring out of her purse.

  “I can see why the nurses at
the ER were so taken with him.” Tavie reached over and danced her crooked fingers up and down his chest, grinning at the peals of baby giggles.

  “Thank you.” A sense of belonging and connection filled Mary. Despite the inauspicious beginning, coming to Loon Lake had been the right decision. The care between Brody and Tavie was evident, even in their good-natured sparring; this type of camaraderie had been what Mary had longed for her entire life. She was still very much a stranger, an outsider, but she hoped with time she and Elliott might belong, too. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for your generosity with all the baby things.”

  Tavie waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss the act of kindness. “You’re welcome, dear, but all I did was make the arrangements.”

  “Yeah, Tavie is Loon Lake’s benevolent dictator,” Brody teased.

  “What can I say?” Tavie sniffed and touched her hair in a smug gesture. “Responsibility walks hand in hand with capacity and power.”

  Brody’s eyes widened. “Really.”

  “Yes really, Mr. Smartypants.” Tavie sniffed and winked at Mary. “It was on my daily calendar of quotes.”

  “And I’ll bet you’ve been waiting for me to come in here so you could use it.” Brody’s throaty snicker released a swarm of flutters in Mary’s stomach.

  Tavie clucked her tongue and reached under the counter. Straightening, she tossed a box of toothpicks at Brody, which he caught one-handed and pocketed with another deep chuckle that sent a tingle along Mary’s spine.

  “I think we got you outfitted with baby furniture, but if you need anything else, just let us know,” Tavie told her.

  Heat rose in Mary’s cheeks. She was grateful for the generosity of the town’s residents, but something inside her balked at being a charity case. Did everyone assume she needed a handout? Some first impression she must’ve made. She wanted people to like her, not feel sorry for her. “I appreciate your generosity, but I can buy whatever my son needs.”

  Tavie shook her head, her halo of teased hair moving with her. “It’s not charity, sweetie, it’s neighbors helping neighbors.”