The Sheriff and the Baby

by C. C. Coburn

  Heart racing, she exited, took the stairs down to the next level and hurried to the ladies’ restroom, intending to change into the disguise she’d brought. How the hell was she going to escape now? She only had about one hundred dollars cash, and she was positive Hennessey would put a trace on her credit cards. If she withdrew a large sum, he’d know she was on the run.

  Walking along the corridor, she noticed the cleaners’ room door was open and there on the shelves were some uniforms. What could be better than disguising herself as a cleaner? She’d be invisible. Beth dashed inside, grabbed a uniform and took the stairs down to the next level, where she used the ladies’ restroom to change.

  Concealed inside a stall, she wound her long, distinctive blond hair onto the top of her head and fastened it, then covered it with the cap provided for cleaners, pulled the bulky uniform over her clothes and changed into flat shoes. After washing off all her makeup at the sink, she put on a pair of rubber cleaning gloves. Then she placed her briefcase in the trash and lifted both briefcase and plastic trash bag out of the can. She took the stairs all the way to the first floor. Unseen, she slipped past the security guards in the lobby and entered the walkway that connected her building to the one next door.

  She rode the elevator to the garage and, after locating her grandmother’s car, got in, started the engine and reversed out of the space. At the exit onto Wiltshire Boulevard, she stopped and checked to see if Morgan had noticed her.

  Despite the early-morning heat of an L.A. day, her fingers turned to ice on the steering wheel when Morgan glanced up at her. Then, apparently satisfied that it wasn’t Beth or her vehicle, he went back to his newspaper.

  Beth let out her breath and blended into the traffic on Wiltshire Boulevard. Soon she’d join the maze of freeways that wove through L.A. and head west, far away from California. But first she needed to stop at the bank and retrieve some money from the safety-deposit box, enough to live on for the next several months.

  She was cautious when she entered the bank, expecting to see more of Hennessey’s henchmen. But she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Had Marcus duped Hennessey into believing the money and drugs were at another bank?

  She slipped into the ladies’ room and removed her disguise. The same security guard was in the vault where the safety-deposit boxes were kept. He greeted her and then, thankfully, gave Beth the privacy she needed.

  She took a stack of bills, not bothering to count them, and shoved them in her briefcase, along with the notebook. After closing the box and returning it to its niche in the wall, she rested her head against it for a moment. Then, on shaky legs, she walked out of the bank, got into her grandmother’s car and headed for the freeway on-ramp.

  Chapter Five

  Matt called himself a thousand kinds of fool as he drove back to the office, then practically bit a deputy’s head off when he asked where he’d been. “None of your damned business!” he snapped and strode into his office, imagining the looks his staff must’ve exchanged at his outburst. He never, ever, lost his temper with anyone. It must be Beth who had him so tied up in knots. And Luke, the nosy, interfering busybody!

  Matchmaking. Why on earth had he even come out with such a dumb confession? Beth must be horrified to know that was what Luke was trying to do. And then he’d been rude to her about Sally when she’d asked an innocent question about his family.

  IT WAS AFTER SIX when Matt left his office and climbed into his vehicle. He didn’t feel like heading home to his apartment and dinner alone, and neither did he feel like rolling up to Luke’s to share dinner with him and the girls. The welcome mat was always out at Two Elk Ranch, but after his altercation with Luke this afternoon, Matt wasn’t in the mood for more of his brother’s meddling.

  He turned toward Silver Springs, needing to talk to Beth, to apologize for his behavior this afternoon. And his brother’s.

  When he knocked on the door to her room, there was no answer. He pushed it open to find the bed empty and no sign of Sarah’s crib. “Sheriff O’Malley?”

  Matt spun around to face one of the maternity-ward nurses.

  “Are you looking for Beth?”

  Please tell me she hasn’t left, Matt wanted to beg her. Instead, he nodded curtly.

  “She’s in the solarium. It’s down the end of the hall.” She pointed in the direction, but Matt was already halfway there before she’d finished speaking.

  He found her sitting on a sofa reading a book, her legs curled under her. He wanted to pull her into his arms; she seemed so delicate and so alone.

  She glanced up at his approach and when a smile lit her face, Matt’s spirits rose. “Hi,” she said almost shyly. “What are you doing here?”

  Matt didn’t answer her question. “Are you leaving?” he asked abruptly, indicating her slacks and loose shirt.

  “I got tired of sitting around in night wear. It made me feel like an invalid.” She gestured at the lounge decorated with plants and comfortable chairs. Several patients were talking with visitors. “It’s nice in here, so I thought I’d escape from my room for a while.”

  The tension eased from Matt’s shoulders. At least he’d be able to spend more time with her. He hoped she’d learn to trust him. “Where’s Sarah?”

  “You are full of questions! She’s in the nursery. Take a seat,” she said, nodding at a chair.

  Matt pulled it closer to her and sat down. He rested his arms on his knees, clasped his hands and leaned toward her. “I came back to apologize for being so rude to you earlier today.”

  “There’s no need. I was being far too nosy.”

  Uneasy at her admission, he said, “There is a need to apologize. You asked me a question today and I walked out on you without answering it properly.”

  He scanned the room. The rest of the occupants were engaged in their own conversations. What he had to tell her was so very personal and he didn’t want anyone else hearing it.

  The knowledge that if he hadn’t been so diligent about his job, he could’ve saved his wife and baby haunted Matt. How could he tell Beth about the guilt that had been eating away at him all these years? How could he admit he felt unworthy of anyone’s love and couldn’t trust himself to love again?

  But Matt knew that if he didn’t talk about it, he’d never be able to move past it, never be able to have another relationship. For the first time in three years, he’d felt desire for a woman, and it was so intense he couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t shut himself off from the world—from love—for the rest of his life.

  “It’s…difficult for me to talk about…even now.” Matt could hear his voice wavering. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “My wife…Sally, was killed by a hit-and-run driver three years ago. She was seven months pregnant.”

  “Oh, Matt.” Beth extended her hand.

  He flinched when she touched his shoulder. He didn’t deserve anyone’s compassion. Or love.

  “It’s all right, Matt… You don’t have to tell me any more,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “I need to.” Then before he could talk himself out of it, he said, “The driver didn’t stop. At least, not until he ran through a shop front on Main Street.” His hands clenched into tight fists and his knuckles turned white as he fought the revulsion, the stark memories. “I was heading home when I saw it happen and went to help. While he was being cut out of his vehicle, a call came that a pedestrian had been hit on the road to my place.”

  Matt stared at the floor. “Sally lay by that deserted country roadside for nearly an hour before someone noticed her.”

  FINALLY, HE LIFTED pain-filled eyes to hers and Beth’s heart tightened at the misery she saw reflected there. “She and my baby died a slow, painful death—while I held the hand of a drunk driver and told him everything was going to be okay.”

  His voice broke. “I…failed the two people I loved most in the world.”

  “Oh, Matt.” She reached out to clasp his hand.

  What words could offer comfort afte
r such a tragedy? But words were necessary, some affirmation of his value as a human being. As a man.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said softly, resisting the urge to wince when he squeezed her hand tightly. He needed her support, just as she’d needed his the night Sarah was born. “I’m sorry seems so…inadequate. I can’t begin to imagine how you must’ve felt when it happened. But I do know you would’ve made a wonderful father, Matt. You’re so good with Sarah.”

  Her heartfelt words were rewarded when his features relaxed a little and he gave her a crooked smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you with that.” He stood, releasing her hand in the process.

  But Beth wasn’t about to let him leave. His tragic confession couldn’t have been easy for him and, right now, Matt needed all her compassion. She caught his hand again and drew him down to sit beside her on the sofa. “I didn’t intend to bring up sad memories for you.”

  He pulled his hand from her grasp as though he wanted to put some space between them and smoothed an imaginary crease from the trousers of his uniform. “I needed to tell you. I’ve never talked about it to anyone except my family.”

  She sighed and looked out the darkened windows of the solarium. “I hated not having any brothers or sisters. It was so lonely. You’re fortunate to have so much support.”

  “You can still be lonely in a big family.”

  She glanced back at him. His words held a note of heart ache Beth didn’t understand. It didn’t seem possible to be lonely with so many brothers. He and Luke seemed close, regardless of their bantering. Becky had sung Matt’s praises, telling her how much his nieces and nephew loved him. Matt O’Malley was a puzzle.

  Tonight, he’d shared something deeply personal with her and Beth couldn’t help wondering, Why me? Why now?

  “I’d better be going,” he said, standing again. “I’d like to stop by tomorrow and visit you and Sarah, if that’s okay.”

  The thought of seeing him again filled Beth with a cautious pleasure, but she had to make the break before she allowed herself to rely on Matt too much.

  He had the potential to destroy everything she’d worked for over the past months—her anonymity and the relative peace of mind that went with it. “Thank you but that won’t be necessary. I’m going home tomorrow,” she said, then wanted to bite her tongue for revealing her plans so hastily. The man’s presence was making her forget herself. “To Denver?”

  She recovered her composure, stood and started walking toward the hallway that led to her room. He was never going to find out where her real home was, tucked away in the hills outside Spruce Lake. “Yes. I’m taking the bus.”

  “I could give you a ride into Denver,” he offered, striding beside her, making her feel closed in, a captive.

  “No!” she blurted. “I mean, that’s a lovely gesture, but you’ve done more than enough for us already. The bus will be fine.”

  And now he was giving her one of those looks that said he doubted every word she’d ever uttered.

  “I’d like to,” he insisted. “A bus is no place for a baby.”

  Beth paused outside the door to her room. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “All right, thank you,” she said, knowing that by the time he turned up in the morning, she’d be long gone.

  He smiled, and guilt filled every one of her pores. “When would you like me to come for you?”

  “How about eleven?”

  “Eleven is fine.” He reached into his pocket and took out a card. “Here’s my number. If you want to leave earlier or you need me for anything, just call. Anytime.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks.” Beth slipped his card into her pocket and walked through the door he held open for her. “There’s my little girl,” she cooed at the sight of Sarah.

  “She’s hungry,” the nurse said. “I was about to get you.”

  Beth made herself comfortable, then picked up her baby. She couldn’t look Matt in the eye. The lies she was telling him were more than she could bear, but her life and Sarah’s depended on them.

  “I’ll see you at eleven, then,” he said and left the room.

  “YOU NEED TO COMPLETE this paperwork.” One of the hospital admitting staff had shown up not long after Matt’s departure and handed Beth a sheaf of papers. They were identical to the papers Beth had received earlier and placed in her top drawer, intending to deal with them later—like after she’d left the hospital.

  “Can I do this tomorrow?”

  The woman looked at her watch and said, “It’s really important. We need your insurance details so the bill can be taken care of, and you need to register your daughter’s birth-certificate details.”

  “I…don’t have insurance. I’ll be paying cash.”

  The woman pursed her lips. “I see,” she said enigmatically and swept out of the room.

  Beth pondered the fact that she was lucky she was in a smaller hospital where, until now, monetary matters hadn’t taken precedence over patient care. She’d gotten away with ignoring these papers once, but this officious woman wasn’t likely to let her shut them away in her bedside cabinet again.

  The woman returned several minutes later. “I’ve checked with our accounts department. They’ll accept a credit card.”

  Which was exactly what Beth didn’t want to hear. Someday, she’d repay the hospital bill—with interest—but for now she couldn’t risk being traced by Hennessey. If she did pay in cash, such a huge amount would raise suspicions. And there was no way she’d make an insurance claim. It’d lead Hennessey straight to her.

  “Would it be okay if I settled everything in the morning, when I leave?” she asked.

  “Fine.” The woman sighed. “But in the meantime, you’ll need to complete the paperwork and the Registration of Birth forms. I’ve been told not to come back without them.” She glanced at her watch again. “I hate to press you, but the office is closing and I have got to get home to my children.”

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said with as much sincerity as she could muster. “Please sit down. I won’t be long.” She picked up a pen and mulled over the Registration of Birth forms. Since these would be going into a sealed envelope, Beth filled them out using her real name, but balked at naming Sarah’s father. It just didn’t feel right naming Marcus as the father. He hadn’t wanted a baby, and her pregnancy had caused a rift between them months before he was gunned down on the streets of L.A. More significantly, his criminal activities had put her and Sarah in danger. He didn’t deserve the title of “father.” Under the circumstances, Beth wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to admit Sarah’s real paternity to her daughter.

  She chewed on the end of the pen. Leaving the space blank didn’t feel right, either. She tried to think up an imaginary name, but couldn’t come up with anything that sounded suitably heroic.

  The woman coughed, reminding Beth that her time was limited.

  The gift card dangling from Matt’s flowers caught her eye. It read To Beth and Sarah, with my best wishes, Matt O’Malley.

  Matt O’Malley. It sounded safe, solid and…heroic. He’d exhibited many of the qualities she’d want in a father for Sarah. He was caring, protective, capable and had treated her daughter almost as though she were his own. Yet Marcus, her sweet little baby’s real father, hadn’t even wanted her!

  Matt had been more of a father to Sarah in the past two days than Marcus probably would’ve been in a lifetime. In bold letters, she wrote Matt O’Malley, experienced a momentary pang of guilt, then immediately dismissed it. She could weave a wonderful tale for Sarah around the name Matt O’Malley. Her daughter would never need to know about Marcus. Never need to find out how he’d betrayed her. Betrayed them both.

  That done, she placed the form inside the envelope provided and sealed it, then filled out the other paperwork, using fictitious details and hoping no one inspected it before morning.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Beth said. “I didn’t realize it was so urgent.”

  T
he woman practically snatched the papers out of her hands and, without another word, left the room.

  Beth put a call through to Hank, the man she rented her cabin from. She’d found a card on the notice board at the local supermarket advertising the cabin for a minimum six-month rental. It sounded perfect, and when Hank offered a grocery delivery service, meaning she could hide out at the cabin indefinitely, she’d taken it. Ensuring his silence by promising him a ten-thousand-dollar bonus if he kept her whereabouts secret, she’d told him she was an author who needed seclusion to complete her manuscript. Hank had been impressed and eagerly inquired if he could be a character in her book.

  Beth looked forward to getting back to the safety of the cabin. She’d set up a nursery for Sarah, having ordered most of the baby equipment online and assembled it herself. Other items she’d picked up on visits to an ob-gyn in Denver—one who’d been more than happy to accept cash payments and not ask too many personal questions.

  After arranging for Hank to meet her at the bus transfer station down the street, she packed the small duffel bag she’d bought in the hospital shop earlier that day and created a comfortable nest for Sarah in the bottom.

  After a long, soothing shower, Beth fed Sarah and then placed her sleeping baby in the duffel bag, careful to leave the zipper partway open for ventilation. Minutes later, she stepped out of the hospital undetected, mingling with a group who’d been visiting another patient.

  Chapter Six

  Matt didn’t want to believe what his eyes were telling him.

  The room was bare. The bed had been stripped, the flowers gone, the crib empty.

  In the vain hope that Beth was waiting downstairs for him, he ran down the stairs leading to Reception.

  She wasn’t there, nor was she waiting outside in the sunny but freezing winter morning.