The Sheriff and the Baby (10 page)

And that was how Beth found them the next morning. When she touched Matt’s shoulder, he was instantly awake.

“Hi,” she said almost shyly.

He moved over to make room for her. She looked vulnerable and beautiful in a robe pulled tightly around her, her hair mussed from sleep. Beth smoothed her hand over her cheek tiredly and reached for Sarah. “Did she keep you up all night?”

“No, she’s been a little angel,” he answered, his voice husky as he watched Sarah snuggle against her mother.

Matt left the room, making excuses about getting breakfast ready.

When he returned fifteen minutes later, Sarah was fast asleep and Beth was obviously dead tired. “You don’t look very well,” he said. “How about lying down? I’ll change Sarah and bring her in to your room.” He picked the baby up, leaving Beth no alternative but to comply with his suggestion.

At the door to her bedroom, she turned and said, “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for us,” then walked into her room before he could answer.

W
HEN
B
ETH SWALLOWED
her last mouthful of bacon and eggs, dabbed her lips with her napkin and said, “
That
was delicious!” Matt couldn’t help grinning.

“Would you like more?” He was lying on his side across the end of the bed, having finished two helpings sometime earlier. Sarah was tucked up against him, sleeping.

Beth shook her head. “I couldn’t. I’ll be the size of a house with all this inactivity. I’m used to taking long walks.”

“We can take a walk when you’re feeling up to it.” He checked his watch. “I need to call Lucy. Is there anything she can bring you from town?”

“I think I’ve got everything I could possibly need right here,” she said, her eyes holding his. After a moment, she looked away and reached over to stroke Sarah’s hand. Matt wondered if Beth was saying she needed him.

Feeling an urge to put space between them, he stood and said, “I’ve got a load of washing to do.”

Beth began to get up but he stopped her. “Stay here and rest. Lucy would shoot me if she knew I’d let you do any housework.”

M
ATT MADE HIS CALL
to Lucy, reported that both patient and daughter were doing fine, then asked if she could hire a nurse.

“Not at this short notice! What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. But I thought a nurse would be a more appropriate caregiver than me.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself. No one would be more appropriate than you,” Lucy assured him. “After all, you’re Sarah’s father.”

He could hear the teasing in her voice. “You know that’s not true.”

“If you say so. Matt? I’ve got a room full of patients so I’ll see you around four.” She ended the call. What exactly
was
he doing here? And what was he going to do once Beth was well? Betray her by handing her over to the LAPD? Hardly. Something just didn’t feel right about that report. As soon as he felt she was up to it, he was going to get some answers from her. Honest ones.

B
Y THE TIME HE’D
finished cleaning the kitchen, the wash was ready for the dryer.

He went to check on his charges, found both fast asleep and took Sarah to her crib, holding her close to his heart. Something deep inside him seemed to blossom every time he held her. What would it be like if Sarah was
his
child? Could he love his own any more than he already adored this baby? Was he so attached to her because, by caring for Sarah, he was in some way making up for what he could never do for his own child?

He placed Sarah in her crib and watched as she slept, her tiny lips forming a perfect rosebud. Was she the connection that would persuade Beth to reveal what was troubling her? Who she was running from?

An image of Beth formed in his mind, so ethereal in her nightgown, her hand held out to him…beckoning him into her room.

Was it even healthy to feel that way about someone he hardly knew? Maybe when he learned the truth and whatever she was hiding from, he’d be able to get her out of his thoughts and get on with his life.

He went into the laundry, pulled the clothes from the washing machine and put them into the dryer. When his hands closed over a pair of Beth’s panties, he had to stop for a moment and take a few deep breaths. He couldn’t go
on like this. He finished loading the dryer, switched it on and then went out to split more wood.

D
ESPITE THE NEAR-FREEZING
temperature, he’d worked up a substantial sweat by the time Will’s truck pulled into the driveway.

Matt went to meet him before his brother could get out and invite himself inside. Will handed him a bag containing his clothes. “Your cat’s run away and your plants are trying to die.”

Matt cursed himself for being so preoccupied he hadn’t given a thought to the stray that had adopted him a couple of years ago. Although Wendy wasn’t officially his cat, no one else had claimed her, so he’d had her spayed, got her vaccinated and installed a cat door so she could come and go as she pleased. Without the cat door, she’d tried tearing up his furniture. Her independent half-wild nature suited him. He hadn’t wanted to be tied down or show he cared too much about anything. And now he’d forgotten about her. Some caregiver! “I don’t care about the damned plants, but I’m worried about Wendy.”

“That cat’s made a career out of running away at regular intervals,” Will reminded him and punched his shoulder. “Buck up. I’ve offered Nick and his buddies a reward to find her. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Matt said and grabbed his bag, preparing to go back inside. He didn’t want Will asking too many questions.

“So, she’s here, is she?” Will asked.

Matt turned. “Lucy told you?”

“No. But there’d have to be a darned good reason for telling Jolene to hold your calls and not being able to get your own clothes. Then I drive in here and you’re splitting wood. She must be pretty special.” He grinned knowingly.

“She is. But I don’t want you talking about her to anyone, including Becky.”

“Ah! A woman of mystery.”

Matt frowned. “She’s scared of something—or someone. She needs protection. Until she’s well enough and I find out what she’s running from so I can deal with it, I’m staying here with her.”

Will clapped him on the shoulder. “Your secret’s safe. Anything you need, just give me a call.” He climbed into his truck. “Take care, Matt, and I’ll call the minute I hear anything about Wendy, the wayward cat.”

With a salute he turned out of the driveway.

Matt carried his bag inside, dumped it on the sofa and went to check on Sarah. She was wide-awake, staring at the mobile above her crib.

He carried her to the kitchen and heated a bottle of the milk Beth had pumped. That done, Sarah latched on to the nipple and watched him as she drank, her deep blue eyes boring into him as she made loud sucking noises.

When she’d drained the bottle, he said, “Now, are you gonna stay awake and play, or are you going to be a good little girl and go to sleep while Matt fixes your mom some lunch?”

Sarah’s eyes drooped as if her tummy was so full she couldn’t possibly do anything more than sleep.

“You’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” he whispered as he took her to her room and laid her in the crib.

H
E PREPARED A SALAD
and canned soup for lunch. Beth was sitting up when he took it in to her. “I must be improving. I’m starved,” she said when he’d set the tray with a full glass of milk on her lap.

“Lucy’ll be pleased,” he said, then stood by the side of the bed, feeling strangely uncomfortable. “Sarah’s down
for a few hours. I told her to be on her best behavior while Lucy’s here.”

Beth smiled up at him. “You’re so good with her. I wish I’d had a camera this morning to catch you sleeping so contentedly together.”

Matt grinned. “That would’ve been nice. Sarah’s a real beauty. Just like her mom.”

A flush of embarrassment stained Beth’s cheeks at his words. He liked that, the fact that she was surprised and maybe pleased by his small but heartfelt compliment.

She picked up her fork and fiddled with her salad. “Why do you split so much wood? You seem to be out there a lot.”

Matt shifted his feet, trying to think of a plausible excuse for his compulsion to split wood at all hours of the day or night. He shrugged. “I want to make sure you don’t run out.”

“There was a stack of split wood already, Matt. It’s not necessary for you to go out and do it in the moonlight.”

Beth looked so innocent asking him what she no doubt thought were harmless questions. If she only knew the truth. He stuck his hands into his belt loops, partly to keep them from hauling her into his arms and admitting exactly why he spent so much time splitting wood. He shrugged again. “I need the exercise.”

She patted the bedclothes and asked, “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“I’d like nothing better than to join you in bed,” he said.

Beth blinked, then her face reddened.

Matt cursed himself. His comment held a wealth of innuendo that he’d meant in jest—well, half in jest.

Embarrassed, he excused himself, walked to the front door and stepped out into the icy air.

The snow had let up for a while. He picked up the ax.

B
ETH WAITED
, expecting Matt to return with his own lunch, but when she heard the rhythmic sound of an ax hitting wood, she gave up and ate her lunch alone.

Matt was an intriguing man. Strong, masculine, compassionate and nurturing. She was sure he hid a sense of humor beneath that somewhat stern exterior. He’d probably meant that remark as a joke, and she was angry with herself for misunderstanding.

Last night, she’d been awakened by Sarah’s cries, but was too bone-weary to move. Then she’d heard Matt talking to her daughter, cheering her along while her bottle warmed, chattering in kindly tones in the living room. She’d caught snatches of his one-sided conversation. The way he nurtured Sarah softened her heart toward him even more. Obviously, not all cops were bad. Maybe she wouldn’t have to move away from Spruce Lake, after all. Maybe she could trust Matt O’Malley with the truth….

A
FTER FINISHING LUNCH
, Beth took her dishes to the kitchen. From the window, she could see Matt lifting the ax high, then bringing it down hard on a log, splitting it in two.

He’d taken off his jacket and his T-shirt molded his muscled arms and back. She filled a glass with water, drank it down, then held the cool glass against her breast and remembered Matt blushing when she’d asked him why he split so much wood. What
was
that about? Perhaps he split wood at odd hours to burn off excess energy. But a more likely scenario presented itself—perhaps he did it to distract himself from her. Perhaps that remark about joining her in bed
hadn’t
been completely a joke. But Matt was an honorable man. Possibly the most honorable man she’d ever met.

He’d anchored the ax in the piece of hardwood he was
using to split the logs on. He stood to his full height and peeled off his T-shirt, exposing taut muscles sheened with sweat. Beth wanted to run her hands over him.
Big
was the only word that could describe him. Big and strong and capable.

Dragging herself away from the window, she returned to her bedroom and crawled beneath the covers. Closing her eyes to shut out the image of Matt, she concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply, until sleep eventually claimed her.

M
ATT STRAIGHTENED
at the sound of Lucy’s Jeep roaring up the drive. His back was killing him. So were his hands. The calluses were raw. He stacked the last of the split wood and went to open her door.

“Hi.” She offered her cheek for his kiss. “How’s my patient?”

“The one in there—” he indicated the cabin “—is doing fine. I’m not so sure about me, though.”

Her brow puckered. “What’s up?”

He turned his hands over.

Lucy tsk-tsked. “I diagnose you’ve been splitting too much wood.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a man who’s been working too hard. Go on in the house and take a shower, and afterward I’ll give you some salve for your hands.”

Lucy had a point. Beth wouldn’t find anything desirable about a man covered in sweat and wood chips. “Thanks. I can always rely on you to bring me back down to earth. Beth’s in her room,” he said, following her into the cabin.

He detoured to the bathroom, undressed and stepped under the shower, cursing the prickling cold spray. He adjusted the temperature to something resembling lukewarm and reached for the soap.

“B
ETH’S DOING GREAT
,” Lucy reported when he returned to the kitchen. “So’s Sarah.” She paused and looked up at him. “You’re doing a great job caring for them. You’re good for them, Matt. I hope you intend to become a permanent part of their lives.”

She took his hands and rubbed the salve into them. “They need you every bit as much as you need them even if it’s for different reasons.”

Back in high school, Lucy had fancied herself an amateur psychologist and matchmaker. Nothing had changed. “I’d like to believe what you’re saying,” he said slowly.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Matt. Don’t keep blaming yourself about the baby and Sally. I’ve got a feeling that this might be your chance to put all of that behind you.” She screwed the cap back onto the salve.

Matt couldn’t keep from sharing his doubts with her. “Once Beth’s well enough, she’ll leave. She’s running from something, or someone, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“She hasn’t told you any more about herself?”

He shook his head. “She’s been too sick for me to question her. And besides, right now I’m not here in my capacity as county sheriff. I’m here as—” He paused. In what capacity
was
he here? Protector? Friend?
Potential lover?

No, not lover. Though he’d like to be. He turned away from Lucy in case she could guess his thoughts. “Have you told anyone where I am? Or where Beth is?”

“Not a soul. As far as everyone’s concerned, you’ve gone out of town for a few days. That goes for the people at work, too, of course.” She picked up her bag and moved toward the door.