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Deputy Daddy
Men in Uniform
Carla Cassidy
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Published by Silhouette Books
America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance
Courteous, courageous and commanding—these heroes lay it all on the line for the people they love in more than fifty stories about loyalty, bravery and romance. Don't miss a single one!
AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2010
A Vow to Love by Sherryl Woods
Serious Risks by Rachel Lee
Who Do You Love? by Maggie Shayne and Marilyn Pappano
Dear Maggie by Brenda Novak
A Randall Returns by Judy Christenberry
Informed Risk by Robyn Carr
Five-Alarm Affair by Marie Ferrarella
AVAILABLE MARCH 2010
The Man from Texas by Rebecca York
Mistaken Identity by Merline Lovelace
Bad Moon Rising by Kathleen Eagle
Moriah's Mutiny by Elizabeth Bevarly
Have Gown, Need Groom by Rita Herron
Heart of the Tiger by Lindsay McKenna
AVAILABLE APRIL 2010
Landry's Law by Kelsey Roberts
Love at First Sight by B.J. Daniels
The Sheriff of Shelter Valley by Tara Taylor Quinn
A Match for Celia by Gina Wilkins
That's Our Baby! by Pamela Browning
Baby, Our Baby! by Patricia Thayer
AVAILABLE MAY 2010
Special Assignment: Baby by Debra Webb
My Baby, My Love by Dani Sinclair
The Sheriff's Proposal by Karen Rose Smith
The Marriage Conspiracy by Christine Rimmer
The Woman for Dusty Conrad by Tori Carrington
The White Night by Stella Bagwell
Code Name: Prince by Valerie Parv
AVAILABLE JUNE 2010
Same Place, Same Time by C.J. Carmichael
One Last Chance by Justine Davis
By Leaps and Bounds by Jacqueline Diamond
Too Many Brothers by Roz Denny Fox
Secretly Married by Allison Leigh
Strangers When We Meet by Rebecca Winters
AVAILABLE JULY 2010
Babe in the Woods by Caroline Burnes
Serving Up Trouble by Jill Shalvis
Deputy Daddy by Carla Cassidy
The Major and the Librarian by Nikki Benjamin
A Family Man by Mindy Neff
The President's Daughter by Annette Broadrick
Return to Tomorrow by Marisa Carroll
AVAILABLE AUGUST 2010
Remember My Touch by Gayle Wilson
Return of the Lawman by Lisa Childs
If You Don't Know by Now by Teresa Southwick
Surprise Inheritance by Charlotte Douglas
Snowbound Bride by Cathy Gillen Thacker
The Good Daughter by Jean Brashear
AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 2010
The Hero's Son by Amanda Stevens
Secret Witness by Jessica Andersen
On Pins and Needles by Victoria Pade
Daddy in Dress Blues by Cathie Linz
AKA: Marriage by Jule McBride
Pregnant and Protected by Lilian Darcy
CARLA CASSIDY
is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels for Harlequin Books. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews, and she also won that publication's Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She's looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Carolyn Baker frowned as she turned the rental car off Main Street and onto Elm. Fumbling in her purse, she withdrew the letter that contained the address of Beau Randolf.
It shouldn't be too hard to find his house. Casey's Corners, Kansas, was the smallest town she'd ever been in. "No way," she said aloud. There was positively no way she would allow her godchildren to be raised in this godforsaken blink-of-an-eye town that didn't even warrant an official spot on a map.
She slowed the car to a crawl, scanning the numbers on the houses she passed. Reluctantly she noted that the homes were neat, the yards well kept. It was a pleasant enough neighborhood, but that didn't mean it was the right place for her godsons to be brought up.
When she spotted Beau's address she pulled to a halt in front. Shutting off the engine, she sat for a moment and simply looked at the house.
It wasn't too bad—a two-story with a wrap around front porch. Spring flowers blossomed in the sunshine, dancing their colors along the walk. The early-morning light was kind, casting golden hues across the front of the house. Still, unlike the other houses she'd passed, this place cried out for a new coat of white paint, and the lawn desperately needed tending.
No way, she repeated to herself. She simply couldn't allow it. Mary's twins deserved better than this small town and their countrified godfather, Beau Randolf. Her heart clutched with grief as she thought of Bob and Mary. It was so hard to believe that they were really gone, killed in an automobile accident a month ago. That made four people in the past few months who had been ripped unexpectedly, unreasonably, away from her. One month ago her father had been murdered and her brother had disappeared.
Sam, where are you? Thoughts of her older brother, who had vanished from his wife and child, vanished seemingly from the face of the earth, caused her to grip the steering wheel tightly. Hope fully she would find some answers to Sam's disappearance while she was here. Before the tragedy of the car accident three weeks ago, Mary had called Carolyn and told her she thought she'd seen Sam in Casey's Corners. At that time Carolyn had done nothing about it. Since Sam's disappearance, sightings of him had been as commonplace as sightings of Elvis. He'd been spotted in nearly every state.
Before she sank completely into maudlin thoughts and unanswered questions, she got out of the car. Now was not the time to think of Sam. Carolyn had to settle the question of the custody of Mary's children before she could fully delve into the mystery of her father's murder and her older brother's disappearance.
She tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her beige suit. For as much as she'd paid for it, she had expected it to travel better than it had. She gave the skirt a final pat, then walked up the sidewalk toward the house.
As she stepped up onto the porch, she was greeted by the sound of screaming. The piercing wails radiated out from some place in the back of the house. She knocked on the screen door, the knock immediately swallowed by more cries.
"Hello?" she called out, rapping more loudly on the door. She hesitated a moment, then opened the door and stepped into a living room that looked as if it had been hit by a baby tornado. A playpen filled with toys sat in the middle of the floor. A pile of clothes covered one side of the sofa and a stack of folded clothing hid the top of the end table. "Hello…?" She stumbled over a plastic rattle and stepped right on the smiling face of a rag doll. The whole place was a wreck. "Hello? Is anyone here?" she yelled again, afraid to advance any farther without permission.
The crying of the babies came closer and suddenly a man stepped into the doorway, in front of where Carolyn stood. He was big. He filled the space with his height and width. His dark hair stood on end, as if fingers of frustration had raked through it a dozen ti
mes. His eyes gleamed a wicked shade of gray and his mouth was com pressed into a tight line of frustration. He was clad in blue jeans and babies. Carolyn realized that most of his bulk came from the two boys riding on his hips, who were both red-faced and screaming.
"Thank God you're here," the man said without preamble. "Come on in." Without waiting for her reply, he turned and disappeared back into the room from which he'd come.
Carolyn frowned. He acted like he'd been expecting her, but that was impossible. Nobody except her two sisters knew her plans. Curious, she followed him into a large, spacious kitchen where chaos seemed to be the prevailing decorative style. Dirty dishes towered precariously in the sink, and the countertops were somewhere beneath a collection of baby bottles, diapers and toys.
"Here…if you feed this one, I'll change the other one."
Carolyn tried to sputter a protest as he thrust one of the identical boys into her arms, but the child's vocal cords worked better than hers, effectively drowning her out. "Just use either high chair," he continued. "Their breakfast is on the plates in the microwave." He grabbed a disposable diaper from the stack in the center of the kitchen table. "I'm so glad the agency sent you over so quickly. I wasn't expecting anyone until later this morning." He flashed her a quick smile. "I'll be back in a second."
Carolyn stared after him for a moment, then looked down at the squealing child in her arms. She couldn't tell if he looked like either of his parents. At the moment he looked like a creature from another planet. His face was blotchy with splashes of red, his eyes were tightly closed and the sound emanating from his mouth proclaimed the healthy condition of his lungs. She didn't even know which one she held, Trent or Brent.
"Shh, there, there," she said, the dull throb of a headache beginning in the back of her neck. She'd only seen the babies once, when Mary and Bob had brought them to New York six months ago. At that time the babies had been four months old, nearly bald and wrapped in sweet-smelling blankets. She wrinkled her nose. This one didn't have that sweet baby scent she remembered. He smelled…sour.
Wrestling him into one of the high chairs, she then hurried to the microwave. She quickly punched the timer for a minute, unable to believe that such an enormous noise could come from such a small body.
She sighed in relief as the timer rang. She grabbed one of the Mickey Mouse plates inside. "Okay, okay. It's coming," she told the impatient diner. She pulled a chair up in front of the high chair and stared at the plate of food. Gross. Did kids really eat this stuff? There was a glob of white, a glob of yellow and a glob of orange, all with the consistency of apple sauce. Still, despite the disgusting conglomeration, the sight of the plate changed the little boy's screams to hiccuping jerks.
Carolyn took the baby spoon and put a little bit of the white stuff into his mouth, watching in fascination as he swallowed some, then spit a little bit back out. The last of his tears dried as he banged his fists against the top of the tray, obviously anxious for the next bite.
As Carolyn shoveled in one bite after another, she thought of the man in the next room. Her eyes narrowed in distaste. Beau Randolf. She'd never met the man before, but she'd heard enough about him to know she couldn't stand him. He hadn't even had the decency to let her know about Mary and Bob's funeral until it was too late for her to attend…and now he wanted custody of their children.
He'd apparently been expecting somebody…somebody from an agency. Somebody hired to help with the kids? Hmm. Her mind whirled with suppositions.
The sound of crying still came from wherever he had disappeared to and the sound filled her with a smug sense of satisfaction. He was obviously in way over his head. It was better she took custody immediately than let him father the kids for a couple of weeks or months, then bail out.
She refocused her attention on the little boy in front of her. She guided the last spoonful of the orange goop into his mouth, eminently pleased with herself. He'd cleaned the plate lickety-split and he wasn't crying anymore. Thank God. On the flight from New York, then later on the hour-long drive to Casey's Corners, she'd had momentary doubts about raising twin ten-month-old boys. But she could handle it. After all, women were naturally maternal, weren't they?
"There, isn't that better?" she said, then frowned. He had an odd look on his little face and a strange rumbling noise came from his tummy. "What's the matter, baby? Did I feed you too fast?"
She leaned forward to wipe his mouth and at that moment, Carolyn learned first hand the meaning of "projectile."
Moments later, when Beau returned to the kitchen, she was standing at the sink. She turned around and his gaze immediately focused on the huge orange stain that decorated the breast of her suit jacket. Irritation swept through her at the smile of amusement that danced on his lips for a moment, then disappeared.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Brent really hates apricots. The plate without the apricots was for him."
"Thanks for the warning," she said sharply as she gave her jacket a final dab with a wet sponge.
"He's got deadly accuracy when he spits."
"He didn't spit. He fired a missile." She placed the sponge back in the sink. "I've never seen anything like it before." She wanted to ask him if this sort of thing was normal, but instead opted to bite the inside of her cheek. She didn't want him thinking she knew nothing about babies. "How do you tell them apart?"
"Socks. Brent wears blue and Trent wears white." She watched as he put Trent in the second high chair and grabbed the remaining plate from the microwave. "Why don't you sit down and we'll discuss the job while I feed Trent." She hesitated a moment, then sat.
"I don't know how much the people at the agency told you about the position, but here's the deal. These boys are the sons of one of my best friends." His gray eyes darkened. "He and his wife were killed in a car accident a couple of weeks ago. I've petitioned the court for custody of them and should get a ruling in a few weeks. I'm going to raise these boys as my own."
"That's a pretty big task for a single man," she observed, talking loud enough to be heard over Brent's fist-banging on his plate.
"That's why I called the agency. I need somebody who can keep the house organized and watch the kids while I'm at work." His strong jaw knotted with determination. "Yes, it's a big task, but if I don't take them they'll be swallowed up by social services." He frowned. "Or, God forbid, turned over to the dragon woman."
"The dragon woman?"
"The wicked godmother. You know, like in the fairy tale, the one who gives Rapunzel the poisoned apple?" He spooned some white stuff into Trent's mouth, efficiently catching what bounced back out onto the spoon.
"It was a wicked stepmother." Carolyn swallowed hard against her anger. The dragon woman, indeed. He couldn't even keep his fairy tales straight.
"Pardon me?" He reached over and took the plate away from the future little drummer.
"In the fairy tale, it was a wicked stepmother, and it wasn't Rapunzel, it was Snow White."
"Whatever. I'm really not up on my bedtime stories." He redirected his attention to Trent. "Did the agency mention that this would be a live-in position?"
"Actually, they were rather vague about the particulars. They just said you were most anxious for help." Carolyn suddenly realized fate had put her in a perfect position. As the godfather, Beau wanted custody of Bob and Mary's twins. As the godmother, she wanted the same. How better to gain evidence of Beau Randolf's utter in capability than by living here and observing him for a week or two. She shoved the fact that it was slightly dishonest out of her head. After all, she had a mission—a mission born of love for Mary and the sweet little boys she'd left behind.
"Desperate is more like it." He spooned the last of the food into Brent's mouth. "They've only been here for less than a week, and as you can see, things have gone from clutter to chaos."
She frowned. "But you said their parents died a couple of weeks ago. Why have they only been here a week?" She already knew the answer, but was aware that if she was
going to play the part of a complete stranger, she'd better play it for all she had. In for a penny…in for a pound.
"Right after the accident, Bob's mother, Iris, took the kids. She's a fine woman, and as their only family member, we thought it was for the best. Unfortunately, she had a mild stroke a week ago and realized she couldn't handle the strain at her age. So, here they are."
Carolyn nodded. Immediately after she'd found out about the accident, she'd checked on the children and discovered they were with Bob's mother. She had thought it best they be with family. But Beau was no more family than she was. "Who has been watching them in the past week while you've been at work?"
"I took a leave of absence until I could get things arranged, but now that you're here, I'll get down to the station immediately…as soon as I can get dressed."
It was at that instant that Carolyn realized for the first time that Beau was bare-chested. In all the commotion of feeding the twins, she hadn't noticed. Now she couldn't imagine how she could have missed it. It was such a big chest, so broad with muscles and with just enough springy dark hair to make it interesting.
She averted her gaze in time to spy Brent reaching for a knife that had been carelessly left on the countertop. She grabbed the sharp instrument and moved it out of his grasp, mentally starting a list of reasons why Beau Randolf wasn't qualified to be the sole parent of these babies.
He stood and grinned at her. She supposed he thought the smile was charming, but it did nothing to endear him to her. Nothing he would do could accomplish that.
"This is crazy," he said, "but the agency didn't tell me your name and with all the commotion when you arrived, I forgot to ask."
"Caro-Carol. Carol Cook." It wasn't a lie; not exactly. Carolyn Baker, Carol Cook…close enough.
"Well, it's great having you here, Carol. Now I'll just get dressed and get out of your hair."
"Wait!" She stopped him before he headed out of the kitchen. "Uh…don't you want to show me around the house, let me know where things are?"
"The twins' things are in the bedroom with the cribs. Your room is the one with the single bed. At the moment the rest of the house is so disorganized it wouldn't do me any good to tell you where things are supposed to be. Feel free to reorganize anything you want to. If you'll give me your keys I'll bring your bags in from the car."
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