Babies And Badges (American Baby)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

  “Yes, I know, which is why I’ll let you do all the work you want—tomorrow. Now, go on, rest up before our last trip to feed those munchkins of ours.”

  She was halfway to the arch leading to the hall when she turned back. “Don’t you mean munchkins of mine?”

  “Huh?” He stashed a box of rice in a cabinet.

  “The babies.”

  “Yeah? What about them?”

  “You said they were ours.”

  “I did?”

  “Never mind,” she said, hand to her forehead. “I must’ve just heard you wrong. Anyway, thanks for taking me to the store, and for…Well, you know.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, toppling her heart with the potency of his handsome grin.

  AT THE HOSPITAL later that night Noah caught sight of Cass breastfeeding Noelle through a missing slat in the nursery’s shades. He turned away out of respect. But damned if he didn’t want to watch.

  There was nothing sexual about the scene, just bone-deep intimacy.

  The kind of intimacy Cass should have been sharing with her husband—not some guy she’d picked up on the side of the road.

  Shoot, her now-deceased spouse couldn’t have been all that bad. At least he had married her. After what Darla had put him through, Noah knew he’d never get hitched again. Which was a real shame, seeing how at the moment, he could think of nothing more pleasant than kicking back on a weeknight and witnessing such an act of motherly love.

  Now that kind of bonding—that would be cool.

  But seeing how he wasn’t about to have kids without giving them his name, and he’d already established the fact that he’d never marry again, looked like this was as close as he’d be getting to fatherhood.

  “Hey, Noah. How’s Cassie been feeling?”

  His stomach sank.

  Nurse Helen.

  Approaching fast.

  “She’s, ah, been fine,” he said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “You know, the usual tiredness.”

  Her expression all business, she nodded. “Sure, that’s to be expected.”

  “I guess so.”

  He’d forgotten how pretty Helen was, and what a fun time they used to have together. What had gone wrong? They used to talk for hours, and now, here they stood in this long, sterile hall, neither of them knowing what to say.

  “Well…Good night.” She gave him a half wave, before heading toward the nurse’s station.

  “’Night.” Who knew what had gotten into him to then shout, “Hey, Helen! Wait!”

  “What?” she asked when he’d caught up.

  “I, ah, have something I’d like to ask.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why did the two of us break up?”

  Clutching a metal-bound chart to her chest, she rolled her eyes.

  “What? It’s a legitimate question.”

  “It’s also ancient history.”

  “So? Having all that time to think it over ought to have given you a lot clearer perspective.”

  “Oh, I’m not rolling my eyes because of any lack of perspective, Noah Wheeler, but out of surprise. Even you can’t be so blind that you’d have to ask.”

  Hardening his jaw, staring off at the dark window down the hall rather than at her annoyed expression, he said, “Yeah, well, humor me. Sometimes even the blind need a helping hand now and then.”

  Three rooms down, a patient call light went on.

  “I have to get that,” she said.

  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “No, Noah. You won’t, because the two of us have nothing more to say.”

  Stunned by the chill behind her words, Noah looked at his feet while she took off for the patient’s room.

  That couldn’t have gone any worse.

  But then what the hell kind of answer had he been after anyway? He already knew they’d broken up because she’d wanted the whole church wedding thing with like eight pink bridesmaids and a wedding cake the size of a freaking Volkswagen! And all he’d wanted was to—

  “Ready?”

  He looked up to see Cass looking small and scared. Her big green eyes shone with tears, and all of a sudden Helen and her arctic chill no longer existed, because Cass not only needed him, she appreciated him. And didn’t go off on him after all he’d done was ask one innocent little question.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, slipping his arm about her shoulders to lead her toward the elevator.

  “I’m such a big baby,” she said, sniffling while shaking her head.

  “So? Tell me anyway.” He pressed the down button, and the doors opened with a ding.

  Stepping into the car, with his arm still around her, she said, “It’s just that earlier today, Doctor Joe said the babies might be able to come home tomorrow morning, but the nurse just told me that to be on the safe side, he’d like them to stay one more full day.”

  “What’s so tragic about that?”

  “N-nothing,” she said, still sniffling. “It’s just that I wanted to get them home. You know, get them settled into their nest, and now, here we are, still imposing on you. And I—”

  “Shh…” He pulled her into a hug, hating himself for loving the way she felt in his arms. He’d never held a woman so small. So delicate, yet so strong. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Before you know it, those babies’ll be home squalling their eyeballs out, and then you’ll wish they were back in the hospital.”

  “You think?” she asked, peering up at him with her impossibly big green eyes.

  “Oh, yeah. Heck, yeah. I’m pretty sure I’ve even read it in a training manual at work.”

  “You did not, you big fibber.” She landed a swat to his chest, only it wasn’t really a swat, but more of a caress, and then he was pulling her close again, and swearing if she didn’t stop staring at him that way his heart would pound right out of his chest.

  He had to kiss her. Only he wasn’t sure how to go about coming in for a landing. And the timing was all wrong, and he couldn’t even think with her staring up at him that way. Like he was some kind of protector when in actuality, he was more of a big bad wolf, trying to steal nookie off a poor, defenseless single mom!

  Ding.

  The elevator doors swished open, and the moment was gone.

  Taking her small hand in his big one, though, he sadly realized that while the moment might be gone, the feelings weren’t. And that was bad. Because good guys who knew full well they had no intention of ever getting hitched sure as hell didn’t put the moves on single moms.

  Not cool.

  At all.

  So where did that leave him? With one helluva a rocket in his pocket destined to land with a thud.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey there, stranger!” Brenda called out the next afternoon as Noah led Cassie into the burger joint.

  As usual around lunchtime, the place was packed.

  Though a country ballad blared from the jukebox, the din of conversation and the occasional guffaw rose above the tune. There wasn’t a table to be had save for one, and good thing for him, Brenda always kept her best back booth reserved for the sheriff, claiming that it made good financial sense to stay on the right side of the law.

  Cass had long since traded her sexy pj’s for an equally disturbing little black dress more suited to some fancy cocktail party than to fitting in with this rowdy bunch. Still, Noah couldn’t help but straighten his shoulders with pride seeing all of the admiring, good old boy glances aimed her way.

  “Hey yourself, Bren,” he said. “How about bringing us two of my usual?”

  “What’s that?” Cassie asked over her shoulder.

  “It’s a surprise. But I promise, you’ll like it.”

  Brenda asked, “You havin’ a Coke day or malt day, Sheriff?”

  Catching a glimpse of Cassie’s ripe behind a few steps in front of him, Noah swallowed hard before hollering, “Malt!”

  “Will do!”

/>   “Sheriff.” Floyd Hopkins spun on his black vinyl stool to glare. “Mind tellin’ me why that thug over there isn’t having lunch behind bars?”

  Without a glance in the boy’s direction, Noah knew full well who Floyd was talking about. Zane McNally. Riverdale’s self-appointed bad boy who just couldn’t seem to get the hint that either he change his ways, or he was headed for juvie hell.

  In the booth two places down from him sat the same trio of gigglers Noah had seen the last time he’d been at Brenda’s. They were neatly dressed, nice-looking girls. Good girls, with undoubtedly good grades. Seeing how he wasn’t familiar with them, he was guessing they’d just moved into that fancy new subdivision south of town. Anyway, they’d do well to steer clear of Zane.

  Noah said, “As much as I wish I could tell you different, Floyd, I got nothin’ to charge Zane on.”

  “Whaddoyou mean? He was trespassin’ on my property just last night and I wanna press charges. It’s because of him and his gang of thugs that that momma Hereford of mine miscarried.”

  “Now, Floyd, you don’t have any—”

  “You get those boys, Sheriff—’specially that McNally kid. Been trouble since the day he was born.”

  “I’ll do my best, Floyd.”

  “Yeah, well, you’d better do a damned sight more than that, or I’ll make it my life’s mission to see to it you never win another campaign.”

  Noah met the man’s squinty-eyed gaze with a challenge of his own that told Floyd to keep out of his business. Noah wasn’t good at a lot of things, but he did know the law. Granted, much of it he’d learned from being on the wrong side of it, but that was a whole other story. One he’d need a couple dozen beers instead of malts to feel like getting into.

  “Wow,” Cass said, eyeing Noah as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. “What was that all about? I couldn’t hear any of it, but for a second there, every eye in the room was on you.”

  Noah shrugged, then snatched one of the plastic covered menus Brenda stashed behind the napkin holder, more to avoid Cass’s eyes than because he was having doubts about what he’d ordered.

  “Seriously, that guy has it in for you. His daughter isn’t a member of the infamous support group, is she?”

  “Drop it.”

  “Ooh, hit a sore spot, did I? Okay, let’s see if I can piece this scenario together without your help. You dated Cindy Sue for a whole year before she started talking china patterns and you were forced to break her heart?”

  Somehow holding his fury in check, Noah glared at the menu. Patty melt. He’d have to try that. The hoagie sounded good, too.

  “Mmm, I must be getting close, but haven’t yet hit it on the dot. I know you’re too noble to get a girl pregnant and run, so maybe you just let things get a little too far past the china zone? Maybe she was already checking out silverware patterns, too? And talking towel colors and—”

  “Enough!” Noah growled, glancing over his shoulder to see if any of his not-so-adoring fans were taking this in. Thankfully, they all seemed pretty focused on their burgers. “Where’d this nasty streak come from, Cass?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked with an innocent smile.

  “All this badgering. Even if there was a Cindy Sue, why do you care?”

  “Maybe because I’ve been hurt by one of your kind. Bad.”

  “One of my kind? We’ve had some fun messing around, Cass, but beyond that—you don’t even know me.”

  Not budging from the challenge in Noah’s gaze, she raised her chin. “Seeing the anger in that man’s eyes, Noah, sadly yes, I’m afraid I do know you. So far, all of the other women in this group who I’ve met have turned out fine. They’re happily married with babies and comfy homes, but this one. This one, I can tell just by the fire in her father’s eyes that she still isn’t over you. Maybe she never will be.”

  Giving her a good, long stare, Noah clapped her a sarcastic round of applause. “Congratulations. Boy, you really nailed it that time.”

  “But you don’t feel bad?”

  “Why should I?”

  She swallowed hard, and if only for an instant, he’d have sworn he’d glimpsed pain crossing her eyes. “Because like I said, I’ve been in this girl’s place, and heartache isn’t fun.”

  “And you automatically assume I’m to blame? That all guys are to blame?” That it’d been his fault when Darla ran out on him after just six months because he’d busted his knee? That just as soon as she’d heard his pro-football contract with the Dallas Cowboys had been ever-so-politely pulled, that she’d been out of his life faster than Zane leaving the scene of his latest crime? And it was his fault that Floyd couldn’t see what a mistake it’d be to just lock Zane up without at least giving him a chance to turn his life around? Shoot, if now retired Sheriff Bowles hadn’t given Noah a second chance all those years ago, who knew where his life would’ve headed? Probably straight down the toilet.

  “Well?” Cass asked. “I can’t wait to hear how no guy has ever done wrong.”

  Running his fingers through his hair, Noah said, “I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Oh sure—run. That’s just great.”

  “Enjoy your lunch,” he said. “I’ll tell Brenda to put it on my tab. The hospital’s just around the corner—barely even half a block. I’ll pick you up there in a couple hours.”

  “Noah, wait. I—”

  Without turning back, Noah stopped by the register. “Hey, Bren, could you please have Yancie drop my meal by the station?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Thanks. Gotta run.”

  HANDS ON HER HIPS, Brenda looked to the teensy redhead in the rear booth who was craning her neck to get a better view of the sheriff’s retreating backside. Lovely as his tight buns were, the sudden pallor of that prissy missy’s perfect complexion told Brenda that a whole lot more was going on here than Noah having been pulled away to answer a call.

  That cantankerous old Floyd had already gone off on him. And then she felt sure the sheriff would still be upset over Kelsey’s wedding. And there was out of control Zane, sitting pretty as you please in a window booth when everyone knew he should’ve been in third-period English. And now, obviously, this woman had said something to land Noah in a snit—and after the poor man had spent so much time caring for her babies!

  Loading Red’s share of their meal onto a yellow plastic tray, Brenda headed that way. By golly, if she had said something to upset Noah, she’d darned well pay for it. That boy had been through more than his fair share of heartache.

  “You ought to be full well ashamed of yourself,” Brenda said, slamming the tray onto the woman’s table.

  “Excuse me?” Red gave her a funny look.

  Brenda wasn’t putting up with a second of this tart’s sass. Gathering the generous side fabric of her orange muumuu, she snorted before sliding into Noah’s empty seat.

  “There’s no excusing the likes of you,” she railed, rattling off her list of everything Noah must have on his mind. “Making matters even worse, is that old Floyd over there doesn’t have a clue just how torn poor Noah is over this whole mess with Zane. Shoot, the man’s older than God, you’d think he’d remember what a tough time of it Noah himself had had before he turned his life around.”

  “So that man—Floyd—wasn’t yelling at Noah for breaking his daughter’s heart?” Red looked like she was two breaths from barfing. She better make it to the bathroom. Barfing was always bad for business!

  “Where on earth did you get a crazy idea like that?” Brenda asked. “Floyd never even had a wife—let alone kids—praise be.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well? You gonna eat?”

  “Thanks, but I’m not really all that hungry.” Red slid out of the booth, left a twenty on the table, then darted out of the room and into the sunshine-flooded spring day.

  Eyeing Red, wishing her rail-thin hips straight onto the nearest skinny person island, Brenda snatched up her untouched double cheeseburger and
took a big bite. No sense in lettin’ good food go to waste!

  CASSIE, having wound her way down a series of brightly lit halls lined with FBI Wanted posters, tentatively knocked on the door she’d been directed to by the balding man staffing the front desk of Riverdale’s sheriff’s department. Even from here, she still heard elevator music from the Martha Stewart tape the man had been watching while filing.

  “Go away!” barked a muffled voice that sounded an awful lot like Noah’s.

  An eye-level plaque on the wall beside the door read Sheriff Noah Wheeler, so she assumed she was in the right place.

  Drawn to the plaque, to his name, she skimmed her fingertips along the engraved black letters, wishing that back there at the restaurant she’d kept her big, betrayed and still bitter mouth shut.

  Seeing how she hadn’t, she knocked again.

  “What?!”

  “Noah…It’s me.”

  “If me means a know-it-all redhead going by the name of Cassie, I’ll see you later at the hospital.”

  Taking that as an invitation, Cassie opened his office door, finding him seated behind a battered metal desk. Behind him were two tall windows with four dead begonias lining the sills. Stacks of manila folders covered every flat surface—including the seats of two brown plastic guest chairs. “Hi.”

  “I thought I told you to—”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in the hopes of stealing his thunder. “Back at the restaurant—everything I said. I was completely out of line, and I’m sorry.”

  Pen still in hand, he looked up. “Brenda’s is a burger joint—not a restaurant.”

  “O-okay. I’m sorry for getting that wrong, too.”

  “And for the record, you were out of line.”

  “I know. Brenda told me.”

  He shot her a grin. “In that case, you have my condolences.”

  “She was pretty rough on me, but I can’t say I didn’t have it coming.”

  He shrugged. “I could’ve steered you down the right trail.”

  “Knowing all you’ve done for me and the babies, I should’ve never gone down the wrong trail. I should’ve trusted you, Noah, and I’m sorry.”

  “Sheriff?” Another knock sounded on the now open door. The bald man who’d directed Cassie to Noah’s office wagged a grease-splotched bag and paper cup. “Yancie just dropped this by.”