Babies And Badges (American Baby)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Thanks,” Noah said, leaving his chair to meet the man halfway across the room.

  “Sure thing.”

  The man left, and Noah set the bag and cup on the shortest of the piles on his desk, then started clearing the guest chair of its paper burden.

  “Don’t,” Cassie said. “You go ahead and eat. I’ll grab something at the hospital.”

  “You didn’t eat at Brenda’s?”

  Swallowing hard, remembering the dark look on Noah’s usually serene face, she shook her head.

  “Then I’ll share.”

  “Noah, I—”

  “What?” he said with a bold wink. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to share a straw? I promise I don’t have cooties.”

  She reddened. In truth, she hadn’t even considered the shared straw factor since her mind was still on worrying what she’d do if their fingers happened to touch in the Tater Tot bag!

  “I know you don’t have cooties,” she said.

  “Then what are you afraid of?” He’d gone back to clearing the chair, but he’d grabbed too many files at once, and the remaining pile started to topple.

  She lurched for it just as he did, but in the end both of them were too late, and the whole pile oozed like a runaway mudslide onto the beige vinyl floor. Suppressing a giggle at the mess that was so horrible it landed in the category of either laugh about it or cry, she said, “That was what I was afraid of.”

  Jaw tight, he nodded. “Me, too.”

  “Well, then. Guess I should get going.”

  “And leave me with this mess?”

  Cassie said, “Ginnie, my receptionist, would be the first to tell you, I’ve never been all that good at filing.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “Really,” she argued. “I even have to sing the alphabet every time to remember if H comes before or after G. And I? I’m clueless when it comes to I.”

  “In that case,” he said, wagging the sack of food, “we’ll just take this show on the road.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Cassie sat with Noah outside in glorious sun.

  The sheriff’s office courtyard looked all but abandoned with tall weeds, a lone pouting pine, and a concrete picnic table that had definitely seen better days. Still, as Cassie leaned her head back and closed her eyes, drinking in the warm sun, she realized that combined with such pleasant company, even such a dismal spot couldn’t hide spring’s glory.

  Not a breath of breeze stirred the not-too-cold, not-too-hot air ripe with the scents of far-off budding maples and oaks and dogwoods. Hidden away as they were, Cassie mused that here in this secret garden, they might as well have been the only two people on earth—at least until the occasional broken muffler or honked horn brought reality crashing back in.

  “Damn,” Noah said, eyeing a mound of paper cups and wadded papers that’d huddled into the courtyard’s shadowed north corner. “Guess it’s been a while since anyone’s been out here.”

  “That’s understandable. Judging by the mountains of files in your office, I’m sure you don’t have a lot of time for gardening.”

  “True, but this is—well, anyway. Let’s eat.”

  “Sure. You go first,” she said while he unwrapped the burger’s greasy foil.

  “Oh no,” he said. “I know this look. What’s the matter now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is it the crappy ambiance?”

  “Not at all.” She stared intently at her lap.

  “The company?”

  Shyly glancing up, she said, “You know that’s not it.”

  “Ahh…” A trickle of grease slid down his thumb and he licked it off. “Little Miss Health Food’s probably never seen a burger quite like this.” He sunk his teeth in for a juicy bite, closing his eyes in pure, burger bliss. “Damn, that Brenda knows how to make a burger.”

  “You are so bad! Do you have any idea how much cholesterol that thing must have?”

  “Nope. And I don’t care, either.” He held the burger out to her. “Here. See for yourself.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll grab a yogurt at the hospital snack bar.”

  “I insist.”

  “Why?”

  “Because double cheeseburgers are a food of the gods. You mustn’t risk offending them.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Cassie said. “I’ve been quite safe for the past twenty-seven years without ever having tasted one. Surely I can go at least a few minutes more.”

  “Never?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “What?”

  “Had a cheeseburger?”

  “Well, of course.” She paused a moment. “I think. I mean, surely at one point or another, but—is this a problem for you? The fact that maybe I haven’t had a cheeseburger?”

  A bee buzzed off the head of a dandelion to dive-bomb Cassie’s hair.

  “See?” Noah said, all smiles when the creature finally went on his way. “I told you the burger gods were gonna be royally ticked.”

  “Oh, all right,” Cassie said. “Give me a bite.” She reached for it, but he said, “Not so fast. A moment like this must be handled with a certain amount of finesse.”

  When she rolled her eyes, the bee came buzzing back.

  Chapter Six

  Eyeing the bee buzzing Cassie’s head, Noah’s grin grew broader than ever.

  “Oh, get on with it,” she said.

  Meeting her gaze, burger between both hands, he raised it to her lips.

  Cassie steeled herself for the worst.

  Eyes closed, she bit down, trying not to think about the fact that Noah’s strong teeth and firm lips had only moments earlier been where hers were about to go. Hands on his wrists, she took her first damning bite, and like Eve succumbing to her first delicious bite of apple, Cassie was lost in juicy, exhilarating sin!

  “Well?” he asked once she opened her eyes, sitting back to watch the view.

  She shrugged. “Um, it was okay.” Okay?! Oh my God, it was fantastic! Heaven! Better than sex! Granted, it’d been a while since she’d experienced the joys of the latter, but—

  “Cass? Got anything you’d like to confess?”

  “Um, about what?”

  “You know…”

  “I already told you I was sorry for jumping to conclusions back at Brenda’s.”

  “Ooh, you’re a slippery one. As you’re usually only too happy to point out, I’ve known a few women in my life, and the look I just saw cross your face was one of pure bliss. You’re in love, Ms. Cassie Tremont. And not with me, or even Brad Pitt! You’re in love with a double cheeseburger with extra mayo and pickles!”

  “Am not!” she said, grabbing him by his wrists again to snag another bite.

  “Then what was that?”

  “You don’t think I want that bee coming back, do you?”

  Grinning, he took another bite himself then offered her a drink of the malt—which she wholeheartedly accepted.

  After they spent a few minutes eating in companionable silence, she said, “Brenda told me that after I went to bed last night, you went to work.”

  He shrugged.

  To which she nudged him with her shoulder. “That’s a bad habit of yours, you know?”

  “What?”

  “All of this shrugging instead of answering.”

  He started to shrug again, then shot her a sheepish grin.

  “See?”

  “I’m pleading the Fifth.”

  “Yeah, well, what you ought to plead is exhaustion.”

  He started to shrug, but then said, “I’m used to it.”

  “You shouldn’t be. Keeping those kinds of hours is unhealthy.”

  “That mean you care?”

  “About your health? Yes.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “You should be concerned. Especially since this regular burger feast of yours isn’t exactly a grilled salmon with steamed veggies platter.”

  He made a face. “Thank God.”

&nb
sp; CONTENT IN a hospital rocking chair, nursing Hope, smoothing her hand over her baby girl’s soft strawberry-blond curls, Cassie’s thoughts drifted like lazy spring clouds. From cheeseburgers to malts to a handsome sheriff with warm brown eyes and a soul-melting grin.

  “Oh, baby…” she said to Hope. “He’s such a mystery.”

  The more time Cassie spent with him, the less she knew.

  Who was this Zane kid he was determined to save—even at the expense of his job? And who was this Kelsey woman he was supposedly so broken up over? Those two biggies barely scratched the surface of what she’d like to know.

  Like what’d happened between him and his former wife? And how come every time she mentioned The Support Group, they always ended up in an argument?

  The biggest mystery of all was why she cared.

  In a few days, she and the babies would be happily back in Little Rock. Back in their modern home with its soaring white walls and miles of view. Back at the business she’d worked years to get to its current level of success.

  All of this—Noah, his women and his troubles with this delinquent named Zane—none of it should even matter. She had her own troubles. Like calling her best friend and assistant, Chloe, and having her order the Becketts a new marble countertop to replace the one that’d been cracked in shipping. And dealing with the Newton’s know-it-all architect who’d designed such a complex space that there wasn’t a single solitary wall in the whole house long enough to display even one of their priceless French armoires—let alone their entire collection of fifteen!

  And what about that other problem, Cassie? The one about your husband having shattered everything you’ve ever held sacred and true? When are you going to deal with that?

  Swallowing hard, tracing the outline of Hope’s pale brow, Cassie decided on tomorrow.

  Tomorrow she’d think about all of her worries.

  In the meantime, she had another baby to feed, and then another man. A better man who went by the name of Noah Wheeler who’d had nothing but junk food to eat for who knew how long. But tonight, all of that was going to change when she made him a super healthy thank-you feast!

  “WHAT’S THE NAME of this again?” Noah asked from his seat at the kitchen table, trying not to blanch at the stringy, clingy, goopy mess on his plate that looked suspiciously like albino worms.

  “Tofu linguini alfredo with bean sprouts. Good, huh?”

  Thankfully, since Noah was still chewing the bite he’d just taken, she seemed satisfied with a nod as opposed to rave reviews. That afternoon, while he’d fitfully napped before his shift, he’d dreamed the smells drifting into his bedroom had been from normal foods like onions and chicken, but now he knew different! What she’d really been concocting was poison!

  Oh well, however bad the food might be, at least the company was tasty.

  And with the early evening sun slanting through the kitchen nook’s windows, bathing Cass in a golden glow, Noah didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more pretty. Not that he had that big of a catalogue of memories with her to look back on, but still, she looked great. He’d have told her so, but somehow to give voice to such a thing didn’t seem appropriate. After all, he had sort of taken her and her little family under his protective wings, and the last thing he wanted was to act like some kind of lecher out to take advantage of her in her vulnerable condition.

  “Noah?”

  “Yeah?” He took a long swig of the herbal iced tea she’d brewed. While it wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked, at least it was drinkable. As for the stringy white stuff on his plate…

  “About this afternoon,” Cassie said. “At Brenda’s?”

  “What of it?” He forced down another bite, seriously considering signing up for one of those reality shows, ’cause shoot, if he could choke down this muck, he could darn well eat anything!

  “Well.” She pressed her napkin to her lips, set it beside her plate.

  Hey! No fair her quitting. She still had half a plate to go!

  “I just want you to know again how sorry I am for telling you off like that—you know, jumping to conclusions.”

  He shrugged.

  “No, I know that’s your way of casually declaring it doesn’t matter, but it does. When I was with the girls, I realized something.”

  Never had he been more grateful to set down his fork and listen.

  “The reason I’ve been so snippy about this support group that I’ve supposedly been inducted into is because my husband hurt me pretty badly. As a result, I guess I’ve lumped you—and all men, for that matter—into a category of heartbreakers, when according to Brenda, in your case, at least, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “Brenda’s mouth is as big as her burgers,” he said with a sarcastic snort.

  “Yeah, well, in this case, maybe that’s a good thing. She opened my eyes not just to you, but myself.”

  Elbows planted on the table, Noah asked, “Just what did this husband of yours do?”

  While they cleared the table and she filled his mother’s kettle with water for hot herbal tea, Cassie told him her sad tale, and by the end, if Tom hadn’t already been dead, Noah would have hunted down the bastard himself.

  Spotting a lone tear sliding down her cheek, Noah left his perch on one of the counter stools to pull her into his arms, and while she had a good cry and the teapot wailed, he held her and rocked her and damned all men, but most especially himself for being so hypersensitive about his own bad luck with women that he hadn’t stopped to consider the fact that probably a helluva lot more women get hurt by men than the other way around.

  “I should turn off the water,” she said with a brave sniffle, palms warming his chest.

  “Screw the water.”

  “But…”

  Careful, oh so careful, he skimmed fiery hair back from her forehead, revealing not just the whole of her face, but the whole of her pain.

  At that moment, gazing into the hurt shading her luminous green eyes, he wished for the power to fix her broken heart. Just as he’d wished for the power to fix Zane, and that woman who’d died in his arms all those years ago on the side of Blue Springs Road. And even further back, how he’d wished for the power to fix his parents’ and his own marriages.

  For a few precious moments, Cass melted against him, absorbing his strength. And in her needing him, he felt somehow whole. Better. But then she tensed and gently withdrew.

  “Um, let’s leave the dishes for in the morning,” she said, gazing at the sink. “I’m beat.”

  “Sure,” he said with a wobbly nod, wondering what had just happened, yet knowing. He’d just put himself out there only to be pushed away. Which was cool. Great, actually, ’cause he was in no frame of mind to add this woman to the top of his already lengthy list of troubles.

  She stood there looking fragile and alone, neither of them saying a word, the steady drip of the kitchen-sink faucet the only sound save for the pounding of his heart.

  “Yeah,” he finally said, if only to mask the awkward silence. “Guess I should try getting a couple hours shut-eye, too.”

  “What time do you go in?”

  “Eleven.”

  “I thought most sheriffs let their deputies handle the graveyard shift?”

  “They do.” But I’m not most sheriffs, and ’round here, lately most of the action has been going down at night. And if I’m ever going to have a chance of fixing Zane, I’m going to need a front row seat to his latest stunt.

  “Okay, then, I guess this is good night.”

  He made the mistake of glancing at her lips. Full, soft, begging-to-be-kissed lips that caused all manner of below-the-belt distress.

  Geez, what kind of lightweight had he become? Getting a woody just admiring a woman’s lips? “Yeah. Good night. You ah, go on ahead. I’ll close the place down.”

  “You sure? Because if you want, I can help.” She did the cutest little flip with her hands, causing her severe black dress to pull at her full breasts—ca
using a not-so-innocent pang in him.

  For just that moment, she’d looked soft. Not like the capable career woman he knew her to be, but like someone who might not only need him, but want him.

  He swallowed hard.

  Heck, yeah, he was sure.

  Sure that if she didn’t get out of his sight in the next three seconds, he’d pull her into his arms for a kiss that’d leave her not having a good night, but a frustrated one—just like the one he knew he’d be having! “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “All right, then. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  “Oh—and Noah?”

  “Uh-huh?” When she said his name, a sliver of her pink tongue escaped those sexy lips. Lips he had no business even looking at, let alone thinking of in bedroom terminology.

  “The doctor said the babies should be able to leave tomorrow.”

  “That’s, ah, great.” Because that meant she’d be leaving, too.

  In the words of Briggs’s each and every Martha Stewart tape…Cass and her whole irresistible crew hitting the road was a good thing.

  “HEY, SHERIFF?” Jimmy asked that evening in the tomb-quiet sheriff’s office lobby just as Noah was heading out on patrol.

  “Yeah?” Noah’s stomach hurt from that supposedly healthy meal. Even worse was his frustration from time spent trying to make Cass smile—and failing. In the end, it’d been a relief tucking her into bed—well, if saying good-night in the kitchen even counted as tucking. He was tired, too—damn tired, he thought, gripping the back of one of the rickety waiting area chairs.

  His only saving grace was that with Cass’s girls being sprung from the hospital in the morning, he’d soon be released from the unexpected sense of responsibility he felt for the lot of them.

  “So then that’d be cool with you?” Jimmy asked in the high-pitched whine he used whenever asking something he already knew the answer to.

  “Huh? What’d be cool?”

  “You already said it would. No take-backs now.”

  Noah hardened his jaw. “This isn’t junior high, James. Repeat the question. I’m still not caught up on my beauty sleep.”