Deputy Daddy

by Carla Cassidy

  "I know you do." He sat forward and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm just not convinced your love is the kind they need."

  "What does that mean?" Carolyn glared at him, her anger stirred.

  He shrugged. "The experts say dysfunction is handed down from generation to generation. No matter how much you say you won't make the same mistakes as your parents, the odds are not in your favor."

  Carolyn stood her anger causing her to tremble. "You're so self-righteous, so certain in your belief that your love is the only kind that is good and pure. Consider this, Mr. Perfect. If you get the boys, then you can have a family without making a real commitment to a woman. You can have your family and still date your big-breasted bimbos at the same time."

  "And you consider this." He also stood, his face a thunderstorm in the making. "You can tell yourself all you want that those kids need you, but that's not the case. They don't need you. You need them. You need them to make your life count for something. You've lived your entire life being a wealthy Baker corporation. They're your chance to be a real woman."

  For a moment they continued to glare at each other, the tension fully erupted into waves of frustration and anger. The ringing of the phone split the momentary silence.

  Beau stalked off to the kitchen to answer it. He returned a moment later. "I've got to go. There's been a break-in at the Lambert house." Without waiting for a reply, he bolted out the front door and into the night.

  The slam of the door elicited an immediate response from Trent and Brent's bedroom. They wailed. "Thanks a lot," Carolyn muttered, hurrying in to soothe the kids.

  * * *

  Beau sighed tiredly as he headed home. It was well past midnight, he was exhausted, and the memory of his fight with Carolyn weighed heavily on his mind. He'd struck out at her, intentionally wanting to inflict hurt.

  But her words had stung him, surprised him with their insight. Oh, he had no interest in dating a string of big-breasted bimbos, but he wondered if perhaps she hadn't been right in her assessment that he wanted the kids to provide him a family without commitment.

  Mary had often accused him of being commitment wary, of sub consciously choosing in appropriate women to date so he didn't get emotionally involved with them.

  He admitted to himself now that he was afraid of marriage, afraid of commitment. He wanted so badly to have the kind of marriage his parents had, the kind Mary and Bob had, and was afraid of making a mistake.

  Still, he wanted somebody special in his life; somebody to whom he could tell his dreams, somebody to hold in the night, to share the laughter and tears of life. Somebody like Carolyn.

  He pulled into the driveway and stared at the darkened house, shocked by his thoughts of Carolyn. Ridiculous, it was utterly ridiculous to consider a lifetime with her. She had a business to run, a life of her own in New York, and her lifestyle sure as hell didn't include a hayseed deputy with an attitude problem.

  He got out of the car, exhausted both physically and mentally. As he entered the house he immediately smelled Carolyn's sweet scent. It lingered in the air like the remaining echo of a pleasant song. He wondered how many days it would take after she left before her scent would be gone?

  Entering the kitchen, he saw the remnants of cookie crumbs on the high-chair trays. Evidence that the kids had been awake while he'd been gone. He grabbed the container of juice out of the refrigerator and popped the top off. Taking a long, deep swallow, he remembered Carolyn yelling at him about his manners, and realized again that he would miss her when she was gone.

  Scowling, he put the juice back in the refrigerator and left the kitchen. As always, before heading to his own room, he went into the twins', wanting a look at their sleeping faces before drifting into his own dreams.

  He leaned over the first crib and the blood left his face. Empty. The crib was empty. He raced to the other bed. A pile full of blankets and a stray moonbeam. No baby.

  Had the fight they'd had earlier prompted Carolyn to take the kids and run? Anger blasted through him, along with a riveting sense of betrayal. Had she just assumed that her money elevated her above the law? Damn her wealthy hide.

  He left the kids' room and stalked into her bedroom. He threw open the door and froze on the thresh old. There, on the bed was Carolyn, clad in her sexy blue nightgown and babies. She was sound asleep, a slumbering child on either side of her. One of Trent's hands was tangled in her hair, and Brent's chubby baby fingers rested on her cheek.

  Shame replaced his anger. Guilt usurped his feeling of betrayal. He should have known she wouldn't steal the kids and run away.

  She'd placed a chair next to the side of the bed, providing a barrier should Trent roll away from her. His heart convulsed as he slowly accepted the fact he'd tried so hard to deny: Carolyn would make a wonderful mother.

  * * *

  Carolyn sat next to the bathtub, watching the boys splash and play in the water. She captured every one of their facial expressions, intent on keeping the memory in her heart where she could pull them out and remember them at will.

  Beau was working late and had told her he probably would be home just in time to tuck the kids in and tell them their bedtime story. She intended to have them ready, freshly bathed and smelling sweet.

  In the past two days, since the night of their fight, Carolyn had scarcely seen Beau. He'd gone to work early and stayed late every day, as if unable to be in the same house with her for any length of time.

  And in the time Carolyn had alone, she'd come to a decision. The most painful decision she'd ever made. She felt the sting of tears burning hot behind her eyelids and consciously willed them away.

  "Ba-ba-ba." Trent slapped his hands against the surface of the water and squealed in delight as the resulting splash hit Carolyn.

  "Okay, you little fish, time to dry out." She lifted Trent from the water and wrapped him in a big fluffy towel, then set him on the floor and repeated the process with his brother. "Come back here, you!" She chased after Trent, who had abandoned the towel, his bare bottom wiggling as he crawled out of the bathroom.

  She scooped him up and nuzzled his neck, the resounding giggles causing tears to once again press at her eyes. Scurrying back into the bathroom, she grabbed Brent and carried them both into their bedroom where she deposited each in his own bed.

  As she wrestled Trent into his diaper and sleeper, Brent bounced up and down, grinning and chattering like a little magpie.

  Beau had been right. The boys didn't need her. She needed them. She'd wanted them to fill the empty spaces in her life, chase away a lifetime of loneliness. And that was heavy responsibility to lay on the heads of two little boys.

  While she dressed Brent, her mind replayed the conversation she'd had with Beau on the day they had searched for Sam. She'd claimed Sam was being selfish. But, Beau had suggested that Sam might be being selfless, putting his family's safety above his own wants and needs.

  "Looks like I'm just in time."

  She whirled around to see Beau standing in the doorway. "Yes, they're all ready for bed," she said as she finished snapping Brent's sleeper. "They were just telling me how anxious they are for their bedtime story."

  As he sat down in the rocking chair, she kissed Brent's head, inhaling deeply of the sweet, baby scent. She moved to Trent's crib and did the same. "I think I'll go ahead and go to bed, too." Without waiting for Beau's reply, she left the bedroom and went into her own.

  She waited several minutes, then grabbed the handle of her suitcase and cracked open her door. Stealthily, like a thief in the night, she crept out of her room and closed her door. She paused momentarily in the hallway just outside the kids' room.

  The creaking of the rocker mingled with the deep sounds of Beau's voice. "And then, Hansel and Gretel planted the beans and a huge bean stalk sprouted up to the sky."

  She leaned against the wall and stifled a combination of a sob and a giggle. How could anyone confuse Hansel and Gretel with Jack? She closed her eyes, fighting to
sort out the difference between what she knew she must do and what her heart wanted her to do.

  She wanted to stay here, wanted to be a part of Trent and Brent's future. Worse, she wanted to stay here and be a part of Beau's future. She knew she couldn't stay here another day, another minute, and not tell him how much she loved him. The emotion she felt was too much to hold inside any longer.

  Loving Beau was the last thing she'd expected to happen, and she knew her heart would forever bear the scar of that love. She also knew his feelings for her. He'd made them clear when they'd had their last argument. He thought she was incapable of loving, believed she was nothing more than a wealthy bum looking for a new toy.

  Well, he was wrong about one thing. She loved those kids more than she'd ever dreamed possible—enough to know he was the best parent for them, enough to walk away from them.

  Goodbye, she mouthed silently. Tears falling freely, Carolyn picked up her suitcase and quietly left the hallway. She headed for the front door, pausing only long enough to place a letter she'd written on the coffee table. Then, saying another silent goodbye to the man and boys who had stolen her heart, she left.

  Chapter 11

  Beau awoke to the cries of the twins. He frowned and reached for his alarm clock. A few minutes after six. He lay still for a moment, waiting to hear the sounds that would indicate Carolyn was up and tending to the boys.

  When the crying continued unabated, he roused himself from the bed. Yanking on a pair of jeans, he hurried in to the kids, who were wet and hungry and eager to face a new day.

  "Okay, gang," he said, grabbing a couple of fresh diapers from the diaper bag. Where was Carolyn? Surely she could hear the twins raising the roof.

  He wrestled Brent down for a diaper change. "I guess your mama decided to take the morning off," Beau muttered, then bit his tongue at his Freudian slip. Funny, how in his mind he thought of Carolyn as the boys' mother and of himself as their father. Since she'd arrived, there had been a sense of family in the house that had been absent before.

  He shook his head to dislodge these thoughts. Moving from Brent to Trent, he finished the diapering job, then swung both kids into his arms and carried them out to the kitchen. He planted them in their high chairs, gave them each a cracker, then set about making coffee.

  As the minutes ticked by, he was surprised that Carolyn didn't make an appearance. She usually beat him out of bed in the mornings, insisting she needed to get a jump on the day before the twins awakened.

  She'd gone to bed early the night before, and as far as he knew, the kids had slept through for a change. So, why wasn't she awake? Why wasn't she in here sharing her first cup of coffee with him?

  He poured himself some coffee and walked to the front door. He pulled it open, allowing the fresh-scented morning air to waft through the screen door. He sipped from his cup, then froze as he realized there was an unusual space by the curb in front of his place. Carolyn's rental car was gone.

  Setting his cup down on the coffee table, he raced from the living room to her bedroom. Opening the door, he stared around, his heart thudding dully as he saw the emptiness of the room. She was gone. The only thing left was the lingering scent of her perfume.

  He turned and left the room, confusion muddling his thoughts. Why had she gone? Where could she be? What in the hell was going on in her head?

  Then he spied the note with his name written boldly at the top. He picked it up and read. When he finished, he set the note aside and went back into the kitchen, trying to sort out the tangle of his emotions.

  She was dropping her suit. She wouldn't fight him for custody of Brent and Trent. She'd given no explanation or reason for her change of heart.

  He should be flying high with happiness. The fight was over and he had won. Looking at the kids, he waited for the elation to hit, waited for triumph to soar through him. It didn't come.

  All he felt was a dull emptiness, and the overwhelming feeling that he'd made a tragic mistake. "Ma-ma," Trent said, then grinned at Beau and slobbered a trail of cracker crumbs.

  "Yeah." Beau eyed the two boys soberly and realized he'd won the war, but he'd allowed the coveted prize to slip away. He'd allowed his own fear of making a mistake to blind him to the fact that he was in love with Carolyn Baker.

  But what did he have to offer her? A two-story house that needed a paint job, a small-town existence in the middle of Kansas. When compared to her luxury lifestyle in New York, it came up hopelessly short.

  Still, didn't he owe it to himself to let her know at least that he loved her? He looked at the twins again. Didn't he owe it to them to put his pride on the line and bare his heart, his soul to her? If she turned him down, told him she didn't love him, then at least he'd know he'd tried.

  "Ma-ma-ma-ma," Brent chanted, as if reading Beau's thoughts.

  Beau stood and grabbed each of the boys. "We're going to go find your mama right now."

  * * *

  Carolyn awoke to sunshine streaming in the window. She rolled over, still half-asleep, and gazed at the clock on the bedside stand. Almost ten o'clock. Ten o'clock! She sat up, one leg seeking the floor, then remembered there were no Trent and Brent waiting for her to get them out of bed. She would not have her first cup of coffee with Beau's gray eyes mischievously caressing her over the rim of his cup.

  She flopped back down, staring up at the cracked motel-room ceiling. She'd driven an hour away from Casey's Corners before stopping and getting a room. Her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep and too many tears.

  "It was the right thing to do," she whispered to herself. Giving up her fight for the boys had been the single most difficult, and the single most right thing she'd ever done.

  Beau was a natural parent; his love for the boys came as naturally as breathing. She'd had to struggle with every aspect. She hadn't been able to keep the house organized, she couldn't cook worth a darn and she had never managed to glow because of her mothering.

  Yes, she'd done the right thing, but that knowledge didn't make it hurt any less. The pain was twofold. Leaving the boys behind and knowing she would never be an active part of their lives was difficult. Leaving Beau behind and knowing her love for him would never be reciprocated was devastating.

  She got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, grateful that she didn't have her glasses on. She had a feeling the room would only be more depressing if brought into clear focus. She hadn't much cared last night where she stopped, needing only the solitude of a private place to cry.

  After showering, she dressed in a pair of slacks and a floral blouse. Travel clothes. She had another hour-long car drive, then a plane ride ahead of her. Back to New York.

  She had made a decision in the middle of her tears the night before. She would not be returning to her position at Baker Enterprises. In the past couple of weeks with Beau, Carolyn had realized how empty her life was in New York. A change was in order. She didn't know what kind of changes would be made, only that she needed to find some thing for herself outside her family name and corporation.

  Brushing her hair in front of the warped motel-room mirror, she carefully kept her thoughts schooled away from Beau. She didn't want to think about his bold, bedroom eyes or charming smile. She didn't want to think about the sweet ness of his kisses or the heat of his caresses. It hurt.

  A knock sounded on the door. Carolyn whirled around in surprise. She checked to make certain the security chain was in place before easing the door open a crack. "Yes?"

  "Highway patrol, ma'am. Would you open the door?"

  She stared in surprise at the blue uniform of the officer. "Wha-what's going on?"

  "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

  Carolyn stared at him for another full minute. Was she in trouble? Had she done some thing wrong? She could see the patrol car behind the officer and slid the security chain off.

  As she opened the door, the officer stepped aside and Beau walked in, the boys riding his hips on either side. "Thanks, Greg, I owe
you one," he said.

  "I'll remember that, Randolf." Greg grinned widely, then strolled back to his car.

  "What are you doing here?" Carolyn asked, trying to ignore the de lighted grins of the two boys, the amused smile on Beau's face, and the heavy pounding of her own heart.

  He walked over to the bed and deposited the kids in the center of the mussed covers. He dumped a small knapsack full of toys between them, then turned back to look at her. "We need to talk."

  "How did you find me?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself to stave off the desire to touch him, rush into his arms.

  "I put out an unofficial all-points bulletin on a description of your rental car. Greg spotted you here and gave me a call."

  "I can't imagine why you went to all the trouble," she returned unevenly. "We have nothing to talk about."

  "I think we do." He moved closer to her. "We made a deal that you would stay and take care of the kids until the custody hearing. It's still two days away."

  "So, sue me." She took a step backward. Damn him, was that what worried him? He didn't have a baby-sitter for the next two days?

  "Why did you leave before the court date?" He took another step toward her and she backed up, bumping against the wall.

  "Because there was no point in staying," she replied angrily, tears burning hotly as they fell from her eyes. She swiped at them impatiently. "You won, Beau. I give up. Just go and have a nice life."

  His arms reached out on either side of her, his hands bracing him and effectively capturing her. "Why did you decide to drop the suit?" His gaze bore into hers, intent and direct.

  "What difference does it make?" She wanted him to move away from her, couldn't stand the heart break of his close ness. Why was he tormenting her? Couldn't he see that his nearness alone had her trembling?

  "I need to know, Carolyn. What made you decide to drop the suit?" His voice was tense, strained, but his eyes gave away nothing of what was going on in his head.