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“I do. And if you were an explorer and happened upon us, and wanted to give our happy little family a name, wanna guess what it would be?”
“Wouldn’t have a clue.”
“No Man’s Land.”
Had Noah been fully awake, Cass’s declaration would have sounded like heaven to his female-wary ears. But in his obviously still sleep-weakened condition, her blunt speech sounded defensive.
Someone had hurt her. Bad. Question was, what—if anything—was he going to do about it?
Chapter Three
After Noah left, if Cassie hadn’t already been in bed, she’d have collapsed. What had gotten into her to say such an outrageous thing?
Maybe the quiet thrill of his gentle kiss? The security of having his hand around yours? Seeing your tiny baby sheltered in his big, strong arms, and wondering how much richer your daughters’ lives would be than your own if, unlike you, they grew up with a father?
Cassie frowned.
That was ridiculous!
The last thing her girls needed was a daddy. Besides, Cassie was no more interested in Noah than he was in her.
So why did she get all defensive on him?
Tom. That’s why.
Because his lies had forever and irrevocably changed her for the worse. More than ever she hated her former husband for instilling in her an innate need for constructing emotional walls.
Where her heart had once contained nothing but trusting naiveté, now, she knew she’d never trust another man again—not of choice, but necessity.
On her own, she’d barely survived Tom’s deception, but now, she had the girls’ well-being to consider.
Noah seemed like a nice guy. Yet Tiffany claimed he ran when the word commitment was so much as breathed around him. So why was he still hanging around?
Baffling. The man’s actions were utterly baffling.
Putting her hands to her temples, Cassie tried massaging answers from her aching head.
Why was this virtual stranger being so darned nice?
What did he want from her?
Even more disturbing, what did she want from him?
She would have pondered all of the questions further, but ever since delivering the babies, her mind and body had had a tough time coordinating schedules.
This time, her body won, and sleep stealthily took hold.
“THAT’S OKAY, Doctor,” Cassie said early the next morning after he’d lightly shaken her awake from her latest nap. “I understand about the girls needing to stay on.” What she didn’t understand was why no one in this hospital wanted her to sleep!
“All right, then…” said the pediatrician caring for the twins. His black toupee hung a bit askew from the gray tufts peeking around the sides, but his friendly smile lit the blue eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “If our craft fair makes it tough for you to find a room, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” Cassie said, “but I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”
Hugging the babies’ charts, Doctor Joe, as he liked to be called, paused on his way out the door to give her a thumbs-up. “Young lady, judging by the spunk it must’ve taken to bring those two girls into this world, I’m sure you will.”
Famous last words.
Ever since the doctor had informed Cassie that she was free to leave the hospital, but her babies weren’t, due to a mild case of jaundice, she’d been dialing her way through Riverdale’s meager yellow pages, trying to find a hotel, motel or even a houseboat for rent.
Unfortunately, every single establishment she’d called had had only one thing to say. “Sorry, but because of the craft fair, we’ve been booked for months.”
Even down in Little Rock, she’d heard of the twice annual northwest Arkansas event. She even had friends who regularly made the trip for handwoven baskets, hand-strung beaded necklaces and funnel cakes. What Cassie hadn’t known was just what a big deal the craft extravaganza actually was.
Oh sure, this early in the week, she could’ve gotten a room in Fayetteville, Springdale or Rogers, but for only two nights. What if the babies ended up staying longer? And how was she going to manage the hundred and twenty mile round trip commute?
Just as she’d hung up on Doxy’s Motor court after yet another apology, a knock sounded on her door.
“Come in,” she sang out, glad she’d at least managed to put on real clothes in between calls.
At least two dozen yellow roses arranged in an elegant crystal vase walked in attached to long, strong masculine legs encased in faded jeans. “Good morning,” said a familiar voice that sounded an awful lot like Noah from behind the fragrant blooms. “I brought you a going-away gift.”
“If only I had somewhere to go,” she said, trying not to pout. “I don’t suppose you have any connections with the local inns?”
“What’s this? Miss Independence is actually asking for help?” Noah set the flowers and his keys on the bedside table, then lowered himself into his usual chair. The red Razorback T-shirt he’d changed into did the most amazing tricks with his warm brown eyes, and his dark hair looked all spiky and damp from a recent shower.
Cheeks warming at the mere thought of him all rock hard and suds slick, she hastily looked away.
Trying to ignore the heady scent of the roses, not to mention the completely irrational quickening of her pulse, Cassie stuck out her tongue before saying, “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. And might I say you look particularly fetching yourself—all dressed up in your fancy black dress, but with nowhere to go, huh?”
“Thanks again for reminding me.” From her perch on the edge of the bed, she wrinkled her nose. “Guess the nurses told you I get to go home, but Noelle and Hope are staying.”
He nodded. “Nurse Helen said this jaundice thing is fairly common.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” What had been Helen’s support group initiation number? Eleven? “You two getting cozy?”
“Jealous?”
Yes!
No! Of course not!
Seeing how Cassie didn’t even want a man in her life, let alone need one, she wished the buxom nurse all the luck in the world in resnagging the handsome sheriff. After all, Tiffany hadn’t said anything about group members not being able to launch new Noah campaigns.
“I’m not a bit jealous,” she finally said, tucking her long hair firmly behind her ears. “Merely making conversation. Your friend Tiffany stopped by yesterday, and told me all about the support group they formed to get over you—you big stud.”
When she winked, Noah looked sharply away.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Even though I barely know you, I can see the man she told me about and you have nothing in common. Those women obviously have too much time on their hands. Anyway, back to my lodging issue—know anyplace that might have a room?” She flashed him a hopeful grin.
“Um, sure.” Though he was mighty pleased to no longer be hearing about that ridiculous support group, Noah cringed inwardly when another of his hot-cold dizzy spells accompanied her latest innocent question. Damn those gorgeous eyes of hers. And she could knock off the grinning, too. Unfortunately, yes, he did know of a place to stay. Trouble was, inviting her to use it violated every rule he’d spent years perfecting.
“Well? The name?”
“You probably wouldn’t want to stay there. It’s, um, pretty messy.”
“So? I’ll clean it.”
“No, I mean really messy. Downright unsanitary. You might, ah, catch something.”
Fixing him with a laser beam stare, she narrowed her gaze. “Why do I get the feeling wherever this place is, you don’t want me there?”
“That’s crazy.” He gulped.
How had Cassie known exactly what he was thinking? Did she also know how rotten he felt about those thoughts? After all, he’d promised to protect her until she was released from the hospital. And since she was being released, then technically, he was released from all obligation, right? So why did he still feel like a schmuck for not wanting her in his home?
Probably because you do want her? All of her lush little curves and big, green Saturday-morning-sex eyes and that damned adorable grin that keeps turning you all hot and dizzy.
Solely to prove that none of that was even remotely true—well, granted some of it was, but certainly not the part about him wanting her—Noah blurted, “Look, I’ve got a guest room. You want it, or not?”
“Yes, please. If it’s not too much trouble.” She grinned, and in the heart of his bachelor’s gut, he died ten thousand hot and dizzy deaths.
“Nope. No trouble at all.” What was wrong with him? He’d gone without sleep before, but never had it affected him like this.
Could he have contracted some swift-acting deadly disease? Yeah. That was it. Had to be. No other way would he be this upset over a little bitty snippet of a woman with a pretty smile and even prettier face wreathed in the most prettiest red hair.
Argh! Most prettiest? Whatever sickness he had, looked like it was growing more serious by the second!
“Oh, Noah, thank you!” She leaned entirely too close, grazing her full breasts against his chest while wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she finished him off with an all-too-innocent kiss to his cheek. His cheek! After the anguish her eyes and that grin of hers had put him through, at the very least he deserved a taste of those ripe lips—not to mention a taste of that naughty darting tongue! Her flaming, kiss-shaped brand still burning his left cheek, she said, “You’re the best friend a girl could ever have.”
Friend?
Damn. But then wait—where he and Cassie were concerned, friendship was a good thing. It proved he had a virus rather than the hots for her.
“Um, thanks,” he said, “Coming from you, Cass, I’ll take that as a compliment. Do you mind if I call you Cass?”
She beamed and shook her head. He grew warm.
Dizzy.
I have to get out of here. Now!
Because he wasn’t feeling sick, but attracted. And proud and fiercely protective. And he’d had lots of friends in his life, but none of them he’d wanted to draw back into his arms and kiss square on her soft, full lips!
“Noah? You all right? You’re looking pale again.”
“Sure,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’m fine. Great. Never been better.”
“Good. So? Ready to head over to your place?”
“You know, I just remembered a couple errands I have to run. Let me do those, and I’ll be back.”
“Why don’t I go with you? I’m not due back for a feeding until this afternoon, and after being laid up in here I could sure use a change in scenery.”
Sure. That was all he needed, to be cooped up in the car with her and that Oriental perfume he’d long since established to be trouble. “You know,” he finally said. “I would love to take you, but, um, official sheriff’s code of Pritchett County states that I can’t have any noncriminal civilian passengers in my county-owned vehicle.”
“Oh.”
“You just hang tight. I’ll be back to get you in my SUV around two.”
“Okay. Sure. That’d be great.”
Without so much as a wave, he was gone, leaving Cassie wondering if she’d said something to upset him. But then not five minutes later he was back—wearing an even fiercer frown than the one he’d left with.
“Need these?” she asked, jangling his keys. She held them out, but just when he reached for them, she snatched them back. “Not so fast, mister. You were in an awfully big hurry to get out of here.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So…You’re not still upset over that support group, are you?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Actually, I was about to say no. But since we’re on the subject, let’s get one thing straight.” He’d taken his voice dangerously low. “Those women might say they were the ones who got hurt, but they’d be lying. I did darned good by every one of them. I’d thought we had something special, but then they had to—”
Bring up the word commitment? “What, Noah? What did they do?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, sighed, then grabbed his keys while she was staring into his eyes instead of at his hands. “I’ll be back around two.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Noah claimed a counter stool at Brenda’s Bigger Burger.
Brenda herself, order pad in her plump hand and wearing one of the dozens of psychedelic muumuus she’d picked up on last summer’s trip with her sister to Maui, ambled out from the kitchen. “What can I get for you, Sheriff?”
“Got any new lives stashed back there?”
“Aw, surely things can’t be that bad. After all, talk is you’re a new daddy. Babies always bring a good-some dose of joy.”
“Unless they’re snake babies.” Ernie, Brenda’s cook and husband, peeked through the kitchen’s passthru. “Homer Claussen found a whole nest of copperheads out in his south pasture.”
“You don’t say…” Noah nodded. Experience had long since taught him it was far better to go along with whatever Ernie said. Any contradictions, and the four-foot, ten-inch former pro wrestler tended toward belligerence.
“Yep. Hundreds of ’em wrapped all around his best calf. Nearly squooze him half to death. Homer called the vet, but she said there wasn’t a thing she could do.”
“You’re so making that up,” Brenda said.
“Am not! Call over to Homer’s and see. His wife’ll tell you every word is true.”
