“Uh…I brought you coffee,” he said, then cleared his throat in embarrassment. The room seemed smaller than it ever had before, and he felt as if somehow the air had gotten thicker, more difficult to breath.
“Thanks…you can just put it there.” She gestured to the top of the dresser, then ran one hand self-consciously through her short hair.
He nodded and set the cup down, conscious of the flowery scent of the room—a delicate, feminine fragrance he’d always associated with Sherry. “Uh…I’ve got to get ready for work in just a few minutes,” he said, looking not directly at her but at some undefinable point over her head.
“Okay…just give me a minute or two and I’ll be out.” She didn’t look at him, either, but rather kept her gaze carefully schooled just to his left.
He escaped the room and went back into the kitchen. He eased himself into a chair at the table and took in a deep breath. Slowly he inhaled and exhaled, waiting for the warmth suffusing him to cool.
His mind filled with her vision…soft. She’d looked softer, more vulnerable than he’d seen her in years. Her features had been relaxed, the morning sun painting them in golden hues.
Her hair had been mussed, her eyes drowsy pools of forest-green. She’d looked warm and cozy and sexy as hell, and for a moment he’d wanted to shuck his jeans and climb into bed with her.
He’d wanted to touch the soft skin that had momentarily been exposed to his gaze, had wanted to cup her breasts in his hands as he molded the length of her body against his.
He shoved his chair back and stood, the sudden movement and scrape of the chair against the floor startling Kathryn, who opened her mouth and bellowed in protest. “Hey…hey.” He leaned over the little girl in an effort to comfort her. “It’s all right. I’m sorry I scared you.”
In truth, he’d scared himself with those crazy thoughts about Sherry. Apparently it had been far too long since he’d been with a woman, he told himself. Since Candy. A year and a half. It had been a year and a half since he’d made love. No wonder he’d momentarily entertained crazy, sexual thoughts about Sherry.
As if the baby felt the tension ebbing from him, her cries halted. At that moment Sherry entered the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.
She was clad in a pair of jeans and an oversize peach-colored T-shirt. Her hair was neatly combed and her face appeared to be freshly scrubbed. “One more cup of coffee and I’ll almost feel human,” she said as she made her way toward the coffeepot.
He smiled, feeling as if they were back on normal footing. “You don’t drink coffee,” he teased. “You drink coffee-flavored sugar and milk.”
“That’s the only way I can tolerate this sludge you call coffee,” she returned with a smile.
“I’ve got to get showered and dressed. Andy will be here in a little while to pick me up.” He headed for the door.
“Clint?”
He turned back to her. She looked at him, then at the baby, then back to him, her brow furrowed in thought. “Never mind,” she finally said.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “Everything is fine. Go get ready for work.”
A moment later, as Clint stood beneath the spray of the shower, he wondered if she’d intended to leave. Had she stopped him to tell him to get somebody else to help him out?
If that had been the case, she’d apparently changed her mind, and for that he was grateful. Clint had no idea what he’d do if Sherry decided she didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to help him with Kathryn.
He had no brothers or sisters, and his parents were dead. Well, dead as far as he was concerned.
Funny, he rarely thought about the people who had raised him. They hadn’t been a big part of his life when he was growing up and needed them, and they certainly hadn’t tried to be a part of his life when he’d reached the age of adulthood.
He shut off the shower and grabbed a towel. He didn’t know if Sherry had intended to tell him she wanted out. He also had no idea what had caused the crazy thoughts he’d entertained about her moments before.
Sherry’d had every intention of telling him to find somebody else to watch Kathryn. She’d gone to sleep the night before determined to tell Clint first thing this morning that she was leaving, going back to her own life, where babies didn’t exist and heartache didn’t happen.
So, what had happened to her intentions? She sipped her coffee and frowned thoughtfully, her gaze lingering on the baby. Was it because in the light of day she felt stronger, better able to cope with the entire situation?
Or was it already too late—her heart was already entangled with the blue-eyed cherubic face that offered her a drooling, toothless smile? She smiled back at Kathryn, who kicked her legs and waved her arms in response.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Sherry said aloud, then moved away from the baby as she heard a knock on the front door. That would be Andy to pick up Clint.
She opened the front door to admit the overweight, baby-faced deputy. “Hi, Andy,” she said. “Come on in. Clint will be ready in a few minutes.”
Andy looked down at the two foam coffee cups he held in his hand. He offered her one of them, but she shook her head. “I’ve got coffee in the kitchen.”
Andy followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, exclaiming in delight as Kathryn offered him a gurgle and a smile. “Isn’t she just the sweetest little thing,” he said. He set the cups down, then held out a finger, and Kathryn’s tiny hand reached out and latched on.
“Can I?” He gestured to pick her up.
“Be my guest,” Sherry said, knowing the big man was as gentle as they came.
“She was sleeping yesterday morning when I was here,” he explained as he unbuckled her from the car seat and carefully lifted her into his arms. “Isn’t she a dandy.” His voice was soft with awe.
Kathryn grabbed his nose with one hand, an ear with the other, contorting his face into a comic mask. Sherry laughed, and at that moment Clint walked in.
He looked at his deputy and shook his head with a wry grin. “And to think he’s almost all that stands between the good people of Armordale and the criminals.”
Sherry laughed again and rescued Andy by taking the little girl in her arms. Her laughter faltered, and she gazed at Clint. “I’ll tell you what’s criminal—leaving a baby on a doorstep with nothing more than a note for company. What if you hadn’t been home? What if you’d been out of town on a trip or something?”
Sherry closed her mouth. She’d obviously surprised Clint and Andy with her outburst, but she’d surprised herself more.
She’d been thinking these things, but hadn’t intended to say them out loud. It didn’t seem fair that she could never have children, yet somebody who’d had this precious little girl had left her like a newspaper on a porch.
“I’m sorry.” She felt the stain of embarrassment that covered her face. “It’s really none of my business.”
“Nonsense,” Clint objected. “Of course it’s your business. I made it yours when I asked for your help. And you’re absolutely right. I tried to call Candy several times yesterday and got no answer. Then I got sidetracked with a robbery case and gathering up the things the baby would need while she was here.”
“Who got robbed?” Sherry asked curiously. There was very little crime in Armordale and normally a robbery would be big news.
“Jerry Baker’s convenience store was robbed of four pieces of bubblegum and two candy bars. We caught the culprits, two eight-year-olds who had decided to skip school and got hungry around noon.” Clint picked up one of the foam cups Andy had carried in.
Andy smiled at Sherry. “Those two boys will think twice about even entering a store after the lecture Clint gave them.” He picked up his cup and looked at Clint expectantly. “Are you ready?”
Clint nodded, then looked at Sherry. “I’ll have some answers when I get home this evening.” He reached out and brushed Kathryn’s cheek with one finger. Her mouth poppe
d open as if he was offering her a bottle. They all laughed, and then the men left for their day at work.
When they had gone, Sherry sank down at the table to drink another cup of coffee, her gaze lingering on Kathryn, who’d fallen back asleep and was once again safely ensconced in the car seat.
If Clint found Candy today, then it was probable she would return to collect her child…if Kathryn was Candy’s. Sherry was aware that there was a possibility Kathryn didn’t belong to Candy, but the possibility seemed slim.
The timing was right for Kathryn to be Clint and Candy’s child, and the whole thing smelled of Candy’s manipulation. It was possible Candy had left the baby here with Clint so he’d bond with her, then Candy could reappear for a happy family reunion and snag Clint into marriage…something she hadn’t been able to do fifteen months before.
Clint’s marriage to any woman would forever change the dimensions of his friendship with Sherry. She knew no wife would want her hanging around, buddying with the handsome sheriff. And Sherry knew Clint had a strong sense of what was morally and ethically right. Despite the fact that he didn’t love Candy, he’d marry her if he thought that was what was best for their child. And Sherry would lose him forever.
She got up from the table and moved to the window. Staring outside, she fought against a wave of profound sadness, struggled to stop the wind of abiding loneliness that blew through her.
If that happened, when Clint eventually married, it wasn’t as though Sherry would be losing her one true love. She chided herself. Friendships came and went, developed by fate, and if fate decreed that Clint and Sherry’s friendship fall away, then so be it.
After all, Sherry had already managed to deal with the loss of her hopes, her dreams. Surely when the time came, she’d deal with the loss of Clint in her life just as efficiently.
As with the day before, the hours passed quickly. When Kathryn awakened from her nap, Sherry fed her some rice cereal and baby fruit, then bathed her in the kitchen sink and placed her in one of the new little sleepers Clint had brought home.
She tried desperately to remain emotionally uninvolved, to take care of the child without any real affection creeping into her heart. But it was impossible. Like a child of magic, Kathryn spun an enchanted spell of love that touched all who came near her.
With a sinking feeling in her heart, Sherry had to accept that she was no exception. With every minute that passed she was falling more and more in love with the little girl.
Clint punched in Candy’s phone number for the fifth time that day, frowning as the phone on the other end of the line rang and rang with no reply. Candy had always had an answering machine, but no machine clicked on for the caller to leave a message.
“Clint?” Andy poked his head into Clint’s tiny office. “Betty Wade is on the phone. She wants to know how much trouble she’ll get into if she shoots Walt Clary’s dog.”
Clint hung up the phone receiver. “Why does she want to shoot Walt’s dog?” he asked, although he suspected he knew the answer.
“Seems the dog comes to visit each morning and digs up her flower beds. You know how Betty is about those flowers of hers.”
Clint nodded. “Tell her if she shoots Walt’s dog, then I’ll have to arrest her, and I don’t think she’d like our accommodations here.”
Andy disappeared from Clint’s doorway only to reappear a moment later. “She wants to know if she shoots Walt will you arrest her or give her a medal for the good deed?”
Clint laughed. “I’ll talk to her.” He punched the lit button on his phone. “Betty, Sheriff Graham here. You and Walt having problems again?”
He listened to the older woman rant and rave about her neighbor and his dog. “I’ll run by Walt’s and have a talk with him,” he promised. “And you promise me you’ll keep that shotgun packed away.”
He hung up and stood, stretching out the kinks the morning of sitting had brought. He left his office, told Andy and Etta Mae he was driving out to Walt’s, then got into the patrol car and headed toward the small farmhouse on the edge of town where Walter Clary lived.
As he drove, his thoughts drifted to that early-morning moment when he’d walked into Sherry’s bedroom. He’d been fighting all day to keep the vision out of his head, but without much success.
If Clint were honest with himself, he’d acknowledge that there had been times over the past five years when he’d had sexual thoughts about Sherry. They had been fleeting fantasies, lasting only mere seconds and easily put into a secret place in his mind.
But actually seeing her in that bed, imagining her sweet, sleepy-body warmth and catching a glimpse of her creamy breasts, had stirred emotions he’d thought he’d long ago left behind, where she was concerned.
He rolled down the window, welcoming the floral-scented spring air that flowed into the car. He had to halt any fantasy he had about Sherry.
He valued her friendship, knew that after the flare of passion, in the morning light after darkest desire, they would still be left with the fact that he hadn’t been enough for her. And he feared a foray into the forbidden territory of passion would destroy any hope for friendship between them.
No, better to keep reminding himself that he and Sherry hadn’t been right as lifetime partners for each other, however if he kept his head, they could be lifetime friends.
He slowed as he drove past Betty Wade’s small house. As usual, this time of year always brought with it a profusion of color to her yard. Flowers in a vast array of colors and varieties filled a dozen beds.
Betty’s flowers were her family, and he understood her frustration over Walt’s wayward mutt, who every year seemed to make it his personal doggy business to dig up each and every member of Betty’s “family.”
He checked his watch as he pulled up in front of Walt’s small, untidy house. It was just a few minutes after three. Walt usually didn’t go down to the tavern until about five.
As Clint got out of the car, Walt stepped out of his front door, the little one-eared mongrel at his side. “I knew she’d be calling the law,” Walt exclaimed before Clint could say anything. “That woman’s got a mouth as big as this state.”
“You know we’ve got a leash law, Walt,” Clint said, trying to maintain a look of stern authority. “I’d hate to lock up Rover.”
“Rover don’t mean no harm.” Walt reached down and stroked the dog behind his one ear. “He’s got one of them flower fetishes…can’t help himself. You ought to lock up Betty, she’s meaner than Rover would ever dream of being.”
It was the same battle every spring and summer, and Clint had a feeling the two older adults got a perverse satisfaction from their neighborly bickering.
“I’m mad at you, anyways,” Walt continued. “You stole my best waitress, got her baby-sitting from what I hear.” He cast Clint a sly smile. “Hear tell that baby just might be yours.”
“You shouldn’t be listening to gossip,” Clint replied. “And I only stole Sherry for a few days.”
Walt snorted. “A few days of housewifing and nursemaiding and you really think she’ll want to come back to my stinking bar?”
He shook his head, his features tugged downward in misery. “She probably won’t be back. She’ll be wanting to get married and start her own family, now that you gave her a taste of that sort of thing. Without her at the bar, business will drop off. I’ll probably have to sell the place.”
Clint let him ramble on and when the old man paused for breath Clint jumped in. “It’s not working, Walt. You can change the subject all you want, you can blame me for all the miserable days you think are ahead of you, but I still remember the reason I’m here. Keep that dog on a leash and out of Betty’s flowers or I’ll have to fine you and arrest Rover.”
Without waiting for Walt’s reply, Clint strode back to his patrol car and got in. Minutes later as he headed back to the station, his mind worked over what Walt had said about Sherry.
“She’ll be wanting to get married and start her
own family.”
Of course, Walt wouldn’t know that wasn’t possible for Sherry. There would be no family for her unless she married a man who already had children.
He hoped that happened some day for her. He hoped she met a wonderful man, who had lovely small children who needed her. He wanted her to be happy and had long ago realized that she didn’t believe her happiness could ever be with him.
He knew she dated occasionally, but she never discussed her personal relationships with him and in any case, she never seemed to date any one man for very long.
Yes, he wanted her to be happy. What he didn’t understand is why the thought of Sherry, happy and married to another man, caused such a cold wind of loneliness to blow through him.
Chapter Four
“I can’t figure out why I can’t get hold of Candy,” Clint said as he helped Sherry clear the supper dishes. Sherry had surprised him and cooked a roast and potatoes. The scent had filled the house throughout the afternoon, reminding Sherry of childhood Sundays, when her mother had cooked roasts for after-church meals.
“The note said Kathryn’s mother would be away for a while,” Sherry reminded him. “Maybe she left on a trip.” She turned on the taps to fill the sink full of soapy water. “It makes sense that she dropped the baby here, knowing you’d take care of Kathryn while she went off on a jaunt. Maybe all the danger and intrigue stuff was just for fun.” Sherry tried to keep her voice devoid of censure.
Clint stared thoughtfully at the baby, who occupied her place of honor in the car seat in the center of the table. “I don’t know. I realize Candy is selfish and vain, but I just can’t see her being self-centered enough to abandon her child on my porch.”
Sherry plunged the silverware and glasses into the soapy water, biting her tongue. She hadn’t liked Candy from the moment Clint had introduced her. Nobody had been happier than Sherry when Clint and Candy’s relationship had ended.
But was it really over? Kathryn might possibly be the bond that would forever tie the two of them together—a bond Sherry couldn’t compete with.
Waiting for the Wedding Page 4
