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Damn, he hated it when people answered that way. He tried to count to ten—and made it to five. “If you’re closing because you don’t want to rent me a room, forget I even asked. I’m not going to make a big deal of your staying open. You have a child to support.”
“I don’t need the income from the bed-and-breakfast to support Kylie,” she returned, ripping off another piece of tape and slapping it on her sign. “And my closing has nothing to do with you.”
“After the talk I had with Maggie, that’s a little hard to believe.”
Sarah stopped moving, and her gaze widened accusingly. But there was hurt in her eyes, too. “You told Maggie about us?”
Sighing, Jake shook his head, feeling bad that he’d put her on the defensive. But if she thought that giving him attitude would scare him off, she was wrong. “I don’t kiss and tell, Sarah. My conversation with Maggie concerned my finding a room to rent. When I told her you were closing, she was surprised. She said she’d spoken to you recently, and you hadn’t mentioned it.”
With a cool look, she gathered the plastic together at the base of her sign, then ripped off another length of tape and wrapped it tightly. “I didn’t tell Maggie I’d just had my teeth cleaned, either, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Sliding the roll of tape back on her arm, she stared at him through wind-tossed bangs. “Why is my closing or not closing so important to you? We’re strangers.”
“If we were strangers, my showing up here this morning wouldn’t have rattled you the way it did. You’re not doing much better now. Why is that?”
“Why?” she repeated in an incredulous tone. “How can you even ask that question? Seeing you reminds me of something I did that I’m not very proud of, and I don’t want to be reminded of it. Maybe what happened between us was just another roll in the hay for you—”
“I told you it wasn’t.”
“—but I don’t sleep around.” Her white knit top had a scooped neckline, and her pulse hammered at the base of her throat. Inappropriate or not, Jake remembered kissing her there.
“The truth is,” she continued, “I’ve been thinking about closing for a while now. Your showing up just pushed my plans ahead a few months. I’m finding that I don’t have time to make meals and change sheets for guests anymore. My catering business is doing very well, and—and Kylie’s growing up fast. She deserves more time with me, and I need more time with her.”
Something in Jake softened. Whether she was his child or not, he was glad Sarah could work out of her home and give Kylie the attention and support she needed. He’d loved his mother, and in her way, he supposed Emily had loved him. But he’d always known he was third in line behind the current boyfriend and the next party. He hadn’t fared much better with the foster parents he’d stayed with after Emily had died. Kylie would never know that loneliness.
The low hum of an engine drew Jake’s attention, and he turned to see a car come up the driveway, squeeze past his Jeep and continue on to the far side of the house. It stopped in the small parking area assigned to guests.
The color drained from Sarah’s face as an older man got out of the car.
“We’re back, Mommy!” he called with a broad smile. “Safe and sound.” Then he opened the back door of his gray sedan and lifted Kylie out of her car seat.
Even as his heartbeat increased, Jake was startled to realize he’d been so involved with Sarah that he’d nearly forgotten Kylie was his main reason for coming back here. As she raced across the lawn to her mother, he fought to keep his features calm and controlled. Was Kylie his? Could she be?
“Hi, sweetheart,” Sarah said warmly, her voice shaking a little as she scooped her daughter into her arms. “Did you and Grandpa have a nice lunch at Aunt Ruby’s?”
“I had ice cweam!”
“I can see that,” Sarah replied. “It’s all over your shirt. We’ll have to change it before your nap.”
“Sorry,” the older man said, chuckling as he walked to them. “I should’ve asked Ruby for a bib. And before you yell at me, she had macaroni and cheese before the ice cream—I promise.”
“But more ice cream than macaroni, I’ll bet,” Sarah said, laughing. Her smile faded a little then, and after giving Jake a hesitant look, she put Kylie down. “Dad, this is Sheriff Russell. Sheriff, my father, Bill Malloy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jake said, and they clasped hands.
“Same here.”
Sarah’s father was a good-looking man in his late fifties, and aging well, despite the fair amount of gray in his dark hair and mustache. His choice of vehicles—a sedan—as well as his gray trousers and yellow knit shirt, suggested that he didn’t ranch or farm.
“So what do you think of our little town, Sheriff?”
“I like it. Hope I have the chance to stay for a while.”
“You’re talking about the November election,” Malloy guessed. “Well, just don’t tick off Ed Cooper at the paper or any of our local busybodies in the next couple of months, and you shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Thanks for the advice,” he answered, thinking about the old man in the red truck. “But it’s hard to know what annoys people until you get to know them.”
“In this town, it could be anything,” Malloy returned wryly. “No matter what you do, you’re bound to rub someone the wrong way.” His devoted gaze fell to Kylie. “Except for Kylie, here. She loves everybody.”
Malloy’s statement seemed to invite a conversation with his pretty little granddaughter, and Jake crouched down and smiled. She wore black shorts and a gray knit shirt with black sleeves and Mickey Mouse ears stitched to the hood hanging against her back. Or maybe they were Minnie Mouse ears. Suddenly everything this tiny girl wore, every move she made, every silky black hair above her blue eyes and animated baby face were vitally important to him.
“Hi, honey,” he said.
Lightning quick, Kylie speared his badge with her index finger. “That’s a star!”
Jake’s heart took off running, and he wondered how he’d lived this long without feeling this many emotions at once.
Sarah tugged Kylie back against her legs. “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “She gets rambunctious when she has too much sugar.”
“No, no, she’s fine,” Jake said, pushing to his feet.
“Let’s go to your house and pway!” Kylie piped up, and Jake wasn’t sure what to say. For starters, he didn’t have a house. But, by God, if Kylie was his, he’d find one.
“Dad?” Sarah said, looking pale again. “Why don’t you take Kylie inside? I’ll be right in to change her shirt.”
For a second, Malloy stared curiously at his daughter. Then he shrugged, grinned and scooped Kylie into his arms. “Sure. We’ll have a cup of coffee while we wait, won’t we, cupcake?”
“Dad—”
“Okay,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll have milk.”
When they’d disappeared inside, Sarah mustered a wobbly grin and sighed. “He spoils her rotten.”
“He probably can’t help himself. She’s wonderful.”
“Thank you.” Sarah glanced toward the door, a troubled look still clouding her eyes. “I’d better go. Dad can’t say no to her, and if he’s drinking coffee, she’s stealing sips. Between the sugar and the caffeine…well, you know.”
But Jake wasn’t thinking of sugar and caffeine; he was studying Sarah’s classic features again—her wide brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. Her sideswept bangs and shoulder-length blond hair.
He realized that his suspicions were still only that. But none of Sarah’s coloring had shown up in her daughter.
None of it.
Suddenly, every warning he’d given himself about taking his time and gaining her confidence deserted him. He had to know. His chest was on fire, and he had to know.
“Does her other grandfather spoil her, too?” he asked as she turned toward the house.
“What?”
He fell into step beside her. “You said your father spoils her. I asked if her other—”
“No, her other Grandpa passed away.”
“And by that, you mean your ex-husband’s father?” he persisted. Or did she mean his father? He’d told her that night that his dad had died before Jake had a chance to meet him.
Sarah moved faster through the grass. “My late husband’s father passed away, yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change my daughter.”
No, dammit, he wouldn’t excuse her. He’d come here looking for answers, and he wasn’t leaving until he got them. Kylie waved from the screen door, and a small voice cautioned, Don’t press your luck. But he couldn’t listen. Just one question. Maybe two.
“How old is she, Sarah?”
She started up the steps. “She’s two.”
“When will she be three?”
On the porch now, Sarah whirled on him, her dark eyes full of fire and fear. But was she afraid because a lingering conversation might tip her father off that they had a past, or because she was keeping a secret she didn’t want Jake to know?
“What is this?” she asked in a low, shaky voice. “An occupational hazard? Do you interrogate everyone you meet?”
Jake raised his hands and backed off. He’d pushed too hard. If Kylie was his daughter, he didn’t want to antagonize Sarah, because he wanted to be part of her life. If she wasn’t, he didn’t want to look like a fool. He’d already shared too much of himself with this woman, and the last thing he wanted was to look weak in her eyes. Though why he cared, he didn’t know.
The radio in the Jeep squawked loudly, and a distorted voice hailed him. Jake sent a frustrated look at the car. “No, I don’t interrogate everyone I meet. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I’d just like for us to be friends.”
The radio squawked again.
“Please…” he said, sidling away. “Just give me a minute to answer that, then we can finish talking. Okay?”
But by the time he’d reached through the window, grabbed the mike and looked up again, Sarah was gone and both front doors were closed. “Yeah, Maggie,” he said through a sigh. “What’s up?”
A cattle theft, that’s what was up. Two auction-ready steers were missing from the Wilson ranch. Jake drove out there and checked the cut fence line, then listened to Hap Wilson’s diatribe about shooting first and asking questions later if he found anyone near his stock again. Then Jake returned to the office without a shred of evidence, knowing that chances were, the people who’d taken Wilson’s cattle would never be found—not unless they made a habit of it and got sloppy.
It was close to five-thirty when Jake parked the Jeep in Sarah’s driveway again and got out. Three visits in one day made him feel more like a stalker than a man trying to get at the truth, but he couldn’t help himself.
Until this afternoon, all he’d had were suppositions. Now he had more. It wasn’t the most commendable thing he’d ever done, but a trip to the courthouse had told him that Kylie had been born on April 18.
April was nine months from July and the Founder’s Day celebration.
Quickly ascending the steps to the wraparound porch, Jake rang the bell, waited a moment, then jabbed it again. He could hear it chime inside the house, but there were no footsteps on their way to him, no high-pitched baby giggles and running feet. Still, he had a strong feeling that Sarah was inside.
For a second, he considered checking the garage in the back to see if her car was there. But he knew if Sarah saw him do it, it would make her even more wary and defensive.
He rang the bell again. And once more, all he got for his trouble was silence.
Frustrated, Jake pulled a hand over his face, then yanked off the Stetson that matched his uniform and tugged it back on. All right, he thought, descending the steps again. She’d won this round. But she couldn’t avoid him forever.
“Jus’ whisper?” Kylie murmured again.
Sarah nodded and kept her voice low. “Yes, baby, this is a funny game. We just whisper.” She was holding Kylie again and trying to keep her still, two rooms away from the long panes of glass fronting the porch. Sarah peered through the dining room’s slightly open French doors, into the parlor and finally through the lace shades and curtains. She exhaled in relief when the white Jeep did a two-point turn in her driveway, coasted down to the road and disappeared. Thank heaven she’d seen him pull in and had time to shut off the TV.
Three visits in one day? She didn’t know how, but somehow, Jake suspected that Kylie was his child. That second visit he’d paid on them had had nothing to do with his wanting them to be friends. Worse, his showing up here had drawn curious looks from her father, and she wasn’t ready to make explanations to him yet.
“Oh, sweetie,” she murmured. “What are we going to do?”
Feathery eyebrows dipped as Kylie seemed to consider her answer for a moment. Then she ventured, “Have cake?”
Despite the conflicting feelings of fear and attraction that still shivered through her, Sarah had to smile. “Good idea. We could both use some chocolate. But let’s have supper first.”
Only one person knew that Kylie’s father was a deputy sheriff from one of Montana’s northern counties—Sarah herself. She hadn’t even told her parents because she’d feared they’d track him down and demand that he “do the right thing.” Now, two nerve-racking days after Jake’s last visit, she was about to add another name to the list.
The bell over the door jangled as Sarah carried Kylie and a small tote bag full of toys into the noise and bustle of Aunt Ruby’s Café. As usual, the restaurant rang with country music, clanking silverware and the buzz of lunch-time diners. Sarah scanned the crowded tables and bright red booths, then moved forward.
Ruby Cayhill hadn’t been hard to spot. The elderly proprietress was the only person in the café under five feet, over seventy-five and wearing red high-top sneakers. The red cardigan topping her white uniform dress flapped around her skinny frame as she approached them. Though the tiny woman insisted that everyone call her Aunt Ruby, her only blood kin were the Dalton brothers who owned the Brokenstraw Ranch.
“Afternoon, Sarah,” she sang out, carrying two empty coffeepots toward the lunch counter. She grinned at Kylie. “Hi there, sweet pea. You look like a gal who’d like some French fries.”
Sarah managed a smile. “She sure would. It’s all she’s talked about since I told her where we were headed.” Falling into step with Ruby, Sarah glanced down at the hairnet capping the woman’s frizz of gray curls. “So how’s business?”
“Fine as frog hair.” Ruby cackled. Pale blue eyes twinkled behind her wire-rimmed spectacles. “Cash register’s been ringin’ since sunup.” Moving behind the counter, she rinsed the empty pots, then rigged the coffeemakers with fresh grounds and water.
“How’s everything on yer end of town?” she called over her shoulder.
Sarah sat on one of the red vinyl stools, then settled Kylie on her lap. “Not as fine as frog hair, but things are coming along.”
“Heard you shut down the bed-and-breakfast.”
Sarah smiled wryly. Why was she not surprised that Ruby already knew? “Who told you?”
“Who didn’t?” Ruby harrumphed. “You know this town better’n most.”
Yes, she did. Marrying Vince had made her the target of gossips for years. Kylie’s birth had given them even more to talk about. Sarah glanced around the room where rotating ceiling fans cooled too many customers who might overhear. “Actually,” she said, softening her voice, “that’s what I’d like to talk about. When you have time.”
Ruby paused for an instant, then clicked on the coffee-makers and turned from her task. “Got time right now. Will you be wantin’ lunch?”
Sarah shook her head. “Just French fries and apple juice for Kylie.”
Motioning for Sarah to follow, Ruby grabbed a booster seat and strode to a back booth, calling the order to one of her waitresses. “And bring us two cups of regular,” she added.
But once there, Sarah put Kylie in the booth with her toys, and she and Ruby took seats at the adjacent table. Sarah didn’t want Kylie overhearing their conversation.
When Kylie was engrossed in her French fries and happily humming along to the nursery rhymes coming from her “boom box,” Sarah met Ruby’s gaze over their coffee cups.
Some days, Ruby Cayhill was as no-nonsense and brittle as a pan of rock candy. But she had one of the warmest hearts and truest stares Sarah had ever known. She’d always been a good friend. Since her mother’s death, Sarah had come to depend on Ruby’s counsel even more.
“Thank you, Aunt Ruby.”
“Ain’t done nothin’ yet, honey. What’s the trouble?”
Sarah drew a fortifying breath. Whoever said that confession was good for the soul had exaggerated badly. “It’s the new sheriff.”
“The sheriff?” Ruby chuckled, and her pale eyes lit with mischief. “From what I’ve seen, he’s no trouble a-tall. Takes all his meals here, and the women can’t keep their eyes off him. That young fella’s been dang good fer business.”
