A Baby For The Deputy

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A sister. Mel had another sister. She silently did the math. Her dad and Samantha’s mom must have met one, no, two years after Mel’s mother died.

Pain burned inside her chest. Plenty of people would defend her father, saying he hadn’t been married when he and Samantha’s mom met and that two years was a reasonable period to mourn before entering into a new relationship.

Only it didn’t feel reasonable to Mel. The man she remembered had been devastated to his very core, blaming himself for a freak riding accident he couldn’t have prevented even if he was there when it happened. Afterward, Mel’s father could barely drag himself out of the house to buy groceries or take the girls to a school function. He’d gone to work every day only because he’d needed to support his family—what remained of it.

Date? Engage in dinner conversation? Laugh? Have sex? It was beyond Mel’s ability to take in, and she hugged her middle.

“Cold?” Aaron asked, already adjusting the air conditioning.

“I’m fine.”

She quietly fumed. Why hadn’t her father told them about Samantha? It made no sense. Having a child with another woman was a big deal. Life altering. Did he think they’d never find out or not care if they did?

“Why now?” The words erupted from her, and she twisted in her seat to confront Samantha. “Why pick today of all days to suddenly show up?”

“Does it matter?” Samantha stared out the passenger window.

“You crashed my dad’s birthday party and demanded forty thousand dollars. I’d say I’m owed an explanation. All of us are.”

Samantha’s head snapped around. “You haven’t wanted an explanation for eighteen years. I could ask you, why now?”

“Wait just a minute. I had no idea—”

“And that’s my fault?”

Mel opened her mouth to protest, realized the futility of it and instead swung back around, her tenuous hold on her temper threatening to break. She did not like this person. This stranger. This interloper.

“He’s not the great guy you think he is,” Samantha said.

“How do we even know you’re his daughter? You could be making the whole thing up.”

“Did he act like I was making it up?”

Mel wanted to scream. This could not be happening. It had to be a mistake. A terrible joke gone horribly wrong.

The next instant, Aaron’s hand reached across the console for hers.

“Relax,” he said softly. “There’s no use getting upset.”

She should have shaken him off and would have if not for the warmth flowing through her and the knotted muscles in her neck slowly loosening. Damn him for sensing what she needed, which at the moment was a nonjudgmental friend in her corner.

Opening her fist, she linked her fingers with his, marveling at this tiny intimacy. For the first time away from the motel, they were holding hands, and she had to admit, the sensation was nice. It was also something she could get used to if she let herself.

“You two together?” Samantha asked from behind them.

Mel snatched her hand away, the remark hitting much too close to home for her liking. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Right.”

Mel imagined Samantha rolling her eyes.

Aaron grinned and shrugged, not the least bit bothered.

If only Mel could be as unconcerned as him. But she couldn’t. Not when she secretly, sort of, wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Or was that back a level since most couples began by dating, not sleeping together whenever the time was right and they felt like it.

Her hand drifted to her belly. Could she be pregnant? If yes, their relationship might jump ahead two or three levels overnight.

She remembered her plan to purchase a home pregnancy test tomorrow. Well, so much for that. With Samantha’s appearance and her outrageous demand, the day, and entire weekend, had taken a crazy turn. She’d be lucky to get to the store by Tuesday.

One good thing, she hadn’t felt nauseous for a while now. Perhaps it was the flu after all.

Without being told, Aaron turned the SUV onto the road leading to her father’s house.

“I’ve been here before,” he said in response to Mel’s raised brows. “Your house, too.”

“Make the rounds a lot?”

“I like to keep tabs on certain people.”

Did he? “Is that also part of the job?”

His response was a smile.

What did that mean? That he personally watched out for her and her family? Why, for heaven’s sake? Sure, he cared for her, but not like that.

“How much farther?” Samantha demanded with growing impatience.