The Deputy's Unexpected Family

by Patricia Johns

  They went outside together and Gabe pulled the door solidly shut behind him, grateful for the silence of a small-town night. And fresh air. After Emily’s upchuck, he was just glad to smell leaves and soil. They headed over to a hanging swing on the porch, and he waited until she’d sat down before he joined her. The rocking was oddly comforting, and the cool night felt good against his skin. Harper’s shoulder pressed gently against his, and he had to stop himself from sliding his arm around her. That would be too much.

  “Are you okay, Gabe?” Harper asked quietly.

  He was mildly surprised at the question. He was expecting her to want to hash out parenting plans of some sort. Nail it down.

  “Uh—” He shrugged weakly. “Yeah.”

  She looked over at him, green eyes searching his face.

  “No,” he admitted. “I’m feeling like a jerk for leaving in a few days.”

  “You have job,” she said simply.

  “But I’m walking away from my kid. I don’t think that makes me much of a dad. Bryce in there—he’s a dad. Look at him. He was mopping up puke, laughing it off, and chitchatting with a toddler...”

  “He’s a good dad,” Harper agreed. “But every father is different. There isn’t one type of dad. Some are more playful than others. Some are more serious. My father never played with me on the floor. If I wanted his attention, I’d sit with him at the table, and I’d color a picture while he read the paper, and we’d talk. I loved it.”

  “I didn’t have a father,” he said simply. There were no memories. Just a black hole where he’d been struggling to gain a foothold with his unpredictable grandmother. “I’m pretty sure that Zoey won’t grow up with many fond memories of me. Her memories will be with you.” He looked over at her, waiting to see how she’d react.

  “Do you want that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know anymore,” he admitted. “I...” How could he even sort his feelings on this? “I don’t want her to feel unloved like I did.”

  “She’s very loved.” Tears rose in Harper’s eyes. “She has me, two sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins...you.”

  He leaned his elbows forward onto his knees, stopping the rocking. He felt Harper’s hand rest on his back.

  “No one can change that you’re her father,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if that helps, but... That’s yours. And you’ll figure out how to relate to her.”

  He nodded. Her touch was warm through his light jacket, and he found himself wanting more than this brief connection—to hold her fingers in his, to tug her closer against his side. As if that would help matters. That was old habits dying hard—looking for love in the wrong places.

  He moved away from her touch. “Don’t.”

  “Oh...” Her hand fell away, and she stood up and took a step away from him.

  “It’s just—” He met her gaze solemnly. “I might not be much of one, Harper, but I’m still a man.”

  She nodded, then licked her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m still trying to sort this out, too. How to raise my daughter with someone who—” She didn’t finish the phrase, but he knew what she meant. Someone who wasn’t her romantic partner. Yeah, him, too.

  “I thought it would make raising Zoey together easier,” he said with a sad smile.

  “Maybe it will.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not pressuring you for anything, Gabe.” But her voice trembled slightly as she said it.

  Gabe rose to his feet and crossed the porch in three long strides. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her solidly into his chest. Harper stiffened in surprise, then after a moment, rested her cheek against his shoulder and exhaled a slow breath.

  “I’m pretty sure this is wildly inappropriate,” he murmured against her hair.

  “Yup,” she agreed quietly.

  “I don’t know how to do this with you,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to stay away from you and open up at the same time.” She didn’t answer, and he rested his cheek against her soft curls. “But I promised God that I wouldn’t play games with a woman again. I wouldn’t lead her on.”

  Harper pulled back and looked up into his face. “You aren’t leading me on, Gabe.”

  Yeah, well he sure would be if he did what every cell in his body wanted him to do right now, and kiss her. Her dewy eyes searched his, and he wished he could hide his feelings from her. Her lips looked so soft in the moonlight, and he had to physically hold himself back from dipping his head down and catching those lips with his.

  “If you ever just want to talk,” Harper said, “I’m here. You’ve got my number.”

  “Thanks. Same here.”

  Harper dropped her gaze. “I shouldn’t have come tonight.”

  But he was glad she did. Whatever was stewing between them was downright dangerous, and he wished that a life of faith made it easier to just turn it off. But God wasn’t answering that prayer. Why, he had no idea. How was this good for either of them?

  “Harper, it’s late.” He took a step back. It was late, the night was beautiful, and the moonlight was reflecting off her luminous eyes in a way that was making everything spin. She needed to leave, and he needed to pull himself together.

  “Oh.” She nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’ll head home. I didn’t mean to disturb you—”

  “You didn’t,” he said quickly. “It isn’t you, Harper. It’s me. I’m still a man, and you’re a beautiful woman. I know my own weaknesses here.” Especially when it came to her.

  Harper pulled her keys from her pocket. “I know this isn’t helpful,” she said softly. “But I missed you.”

  Gabe stared at her in agony. She wasn’t making this any easier! “Me, too.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She took another step away. “Dad is going to man the shop during the day, and I’m going to be going through résumés. I need to hire some help—after this is wrapped up, of course.”

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  She wouldn’t need him for more than patrol. That’s what he was hearing between the lines, and while it was strangely painful to hear, he was glad of it. He could use a day or two of getting his head on straight while he circled these streets.

  “Good night, Gabe.”

  He raised his hand in a small wave as she went back down the front steps and headed for her car.

  Why did he have to still feel like this when it came to Harper Kemp? He’d chalked the intensity of those teenage feelings up to adolescence, but it hadn’t changed. She could still make his palms sweat, and his breath stick in his throat. She left him feeling off balance and wishing he could be more to her... And he was still no good for her—for them.

  The responsible thing to do—the manly thing—was to step away. He’d promised God not to toy with a woman’s emotions again, and that was a vow he would not break.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So...” The chief moved his mug of coffee squarely in front of him, then met Gabe’s gaze evenly. “How was the notebook?”

  It was time to review his progress this week, and Gabe was now seriously wishing he hadn’t written half as much as he had. The notebook had been grudgingly useful, but it was private, too.

  “I used it,” he said, putting it on the desk in front of him. “And it wasn’t easy.”

  “Good.” The chief didn’t reach for the notebook, but instead took a sip of coffee. “It wasn’t meant to be easy. It was meant to replace the binders.”

  “Yeah.” Gabe nodded. “Right.”

  “And what did you learn about yourself?” The chief still hadn’t reached for the little notebook, and Gabe eyed it protectively.

  “Are you going to read it?” Gabe asked tentatively.

  “If you want me to,” the chief said with a shrug. “I’m assuming it’s pretty personal, though.”

  “Yeah.” Gabe heaved a sigh of rel
ief and pulled the notebook back into his lap. “It is.”

  “So what did you learn?” Chief Morgan repeated.

  “That I was a real piece of work when I lived here.” He smiled bitterly. And he didn’t blame Harper one bit for steering clear of him...or for encouraging Andrea to do the same. “I was a bully. I broke the law—but didn’t get caught. I was a player. I was looking for something that I didn’t even know I was missing.”

  “What’s that?” the chief asked.

  Gabe opened his mouth to respond, then thought twice. His answer wasn’t going to be PC, and wasn’t that part of sensitivity training—steering clear of inappropriate topics?

  “Go ahead. Just spit it out,” the chief said.

  “I was missing God.” Gabe winced. “I know I’m not supposed to talk about that here. We’re in a professional setting and all that, but it’s the truth. I was raised in church, but I never did embrace Jesus. Not until a few years ago, and my faith has changed a whole lot.”

  The chief nodded slowly. “But you’re here. Being disciplined.”

  Gabe deserved that judgment. He was a Christian, and he was supposed to be better than this. And he was better than he’d been before. He’d learned a lot. God had shown him boundaries—how to draw a line and stick to it. It was turning out to be harder with Harper than it was with anyone else, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it.

  “I didn’t say I was fixed.” Gabe smiled blandly. “I’m better than I was, and I’ll keep growing in the right direction.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I’m going back to Fort Collins. I need the space from this town. Coming back here has stirred up a lot of old memories, but I’m not staying here, am I? I’m going back to my life, my precinct...and I’ll behave myself this time around. No more mouthing off.”

  The chief was silent. Unconvinced, maybe? Gabe wasn’t sure. What was the chief looking for?

  “I know where my problems with authority stem from,” Gabe added.

  “Where?”

  Gabe licked his lips. “My grandmother. I’ve been fighting her every day of my life. Even now.”

  “Why?” the chief asked.

  “She didn’t love me.”

  The chief raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Believe what you want about her, Chief, but she resented having to raise me. I was a burden, and she made sure I knew it.”

  “Ah. Now, that’s some insight.”

  “Deep enough to let me out of here?” Gabe asked with a wry smile.

  The chief was silent for a moment, then nodded. “You have a few more days of patrol, and we’re still trying to crack that Blessings Bridal robbery. But if you keep your nose clean until then, I’ll sign off on your training.”

  “Thanks, sir,” Gabe said. “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m a Christian, too,” the chief said quietly. “And you’re right. We aren’t supposed to be talking religion here at work, but faith does make a difference. A big one. Doesn’t make it less work, but... He gives us strength.”

  The men regarded each other in silence for a couple of beats, and then the chief gave him a nod. “Dismissed, Officer Banks.”

  Gabe rose. This stay in Comfort Creek was the most challenging two weeks of his life. And here he was hoping he’d be a better man for it, because he’d learned one thing: he’d better find a way to make some peace with his grandmother’s memory, or he’d never be any kind of father for his daughter. Staying away completely wasn’t the answer—she’d only wonder why her dad didn’t love her. He’d have to find a balance that let him keep his own life, but have a foot in his daughter’s life, too.

  Zoey couldn’t grow up like he had—wondering what made him fundamentally unlovable. So Gabe had some work to do of his own. Ultimately, that would mean being able to let another man be “daddy.”

  He didn’t like to think about that part—of another man holding Harper close, picking up Zoey from daycare, being with them in the evenings and calling them his—but that was the logical outcome, wasn’t it? Another man would do the job that he couldn’t.

  * * *

  Harper’s father manned the store as they’d planned, and Harper went over some résumés, then spent the rest of the day with her daughter. They read together—Harper was reading her the full-length Winnie-the-Pooh novels, and while Zoey didn’t understand all the British humor, she would lean against Harper’s arm and listen to the tender, melodic story about a bear who might not have been very smart, but who was an excellent friend.

  The day passed quickly enough, and that evening, Harper called Andrea’s mom and asked if she’d come babysit.

  “I left some wedding dresses in the back room,” she explained. “And while I’m there, there are a few things I need to get done. I don’t want Zoey near the store right now—not with everything going on.”

  “That’s why Zoey has grandparents,” Jane reassured her. “I’ll be over in a few minutes. Don’t worry about bath time or jammies. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Harper could have hugged the woman through the phone. “Thank you!”

  “You aren’t going there alone, are you?” Jane asked.

  “No, I’ll let Gabe know I’m dropping by. He can meet me there.”

  Jane was satisfied and within fifteen minutes she’d arrived with a smile and a hug for her granddaughter.

  “I’m just going to the store,” Harper explained to Zoey. She bent and pressed a kiss against her daughter’s forehead. “Be good for Grandma?”

  “I’m always good,” Zoey said innocently. “Grandma needs to watch my unicorn show. She misses it.”

  Harper chuckled and hitched her purse up on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jane. I won’t be too long.”

  Harper got into her car, and she was on her way to the store before she voice-dialed Gabe on her cell phone. He picked up on the third ring.

  “Harper? Everything okay?” He sounded alarmed.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said. “I’m stopping by the store to pick up a few things. It won’t take me more than ten minutes. Just thought I should let you know.”

  “Yeah, you should definitely let me know!” There was a rustling sound. “I’m on my way. Where are you now?”

  “Around the corner from the store,” she said, signaling her turn. “You don’t need to—”

  “Yes, I do,” he snapped. “I’m on my way.”

  There were a few more mutters of annoyance, and then he hung up. She sighed. Harper parked behind the store in her usual spot, and she saw a police cruiser pass on the street next to her at a reassuringly slow pace.

  “It’ll be fine,” she said aloud. And it would be—she couldn’t be scared away from her store—this was her life! Blessings Bridal and Blessings Maternity...these stores would be her legacy, and one day when Zoey was older, she’d be able to appreciate what her mom had built. Maybe Zoey would add to it with her own store. Blessings Kids? Blessings Toys? Harper grinned to herself. The possibilities were endless, and that’s what she liked about growing a business.

  Harper got out of the car and locked it, then headed around to the front door. She paused, looking up and down the street—waiting for Gabe. Then she looked in the window, glanced at her watch and wondered if it would be so terrible to just go in quickly and grab those dresses. She wouldn’t stop and do anything else. The street was quiet, and the soft rustle of leaves shifting in the breeze was comforting. Maybe these criminals had seen how quickly the police responded and had changed their minds about another return to Comfort Creek, after all.

  Harper unlocked the front door and let herself in. She pulled it shut behind her and slid the lock into place. Then she typed the code into the security system and headed for the back room.

  Harper flicked the switch in the back room, the overhead globe shedding soft light. Ha
rper headed for the two boxed wedding dresses, stretching onto her tiptoes to reach them down from a shelf.

  Outside, she heard a clank, and she looked up. Could that be right? She lifted her head and listened. From the front of the store, she heard a shuffle, another clanking sound. Her heart leaped to her throat, and Harper tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

  It was probably Gabe...except she’d locked up behind her. She pulled out her cell phone and looked down at it. No missed texts.

  “Gabe?” she called, but her voice sounded strangled, and it didn’t go very far. That wasn’t Gabe—she could feel it in her gut.

  There was another shuffling sound, then a thump. She wasn’t going out there. If she startled robbers, who knew what might happen? She dialed Gabe’s number and lifted her phone to her ear, just as she heard the crash of breaking glass.

  “Harper? I’m almost there.”

  “Someone’s in here,” she whispered into the phone.

  “Can you get out?” he asked briskly, and she heard a siren go on through the phone.

  Harper looked around to the back door. “I can, but the bolt is noisy. If I push it, they’ll hear.”

  There would be no creeping out of the store—that was for sure. If she made a run for it, they’d know!

  “I want you to find a place to hide and stay low. Don’t say anything else, but stay on the line with me, okay?”

  Harper crept into a back corner and crouched down. The light still blazed from above, and she wished she could flick it off, but if she did, she’d only call more attention to herself. Her hands trembled and she tried to control her breathing, but it sounded loud in her own ears. More thumping and a scrape from the sales floor, and Harper squeezed her eyes shut, sending up a prayer for safety.

  What had she been thinking, coming inside alone? She should have just cooperated with Gabe—this had been foolhardy.

  Lord, protect me!

  “Police!” a voice roared, and there was the sound of scrambling in the other room. There was a shout, and then the pop-pop of a gun firing. Harper sank lower to the floor, putting her hands over her head.