Bryce stepped inside, and she saw him look around the foyer. She knew exactly what he’d be seeing. A hall chest sat against one wall, a beveled mirror hanging above it. A mason jar of lilacs from the side of the house sat on the top of the hall chest, spilling their fragrance around the entranceway. Behind her, a bright white staircase led upstairs.
“Nice place,” Bryce said. “A far cry from that hotel along the highway.”
“The Melody Inn?” Lily swung the door shut. “That place has a rat infestation. And that isn’t just a competitor being catty, either. They’re shut down for the next two weeks while they get it under control. They’re as big as raccoons, apparently. It’s the most interesting thing happening in town right now, besides my Aunt Clarisse’s wedding, that is.”
Bryce winced. “Well, good thing I’m here, then.”
There was something in his voice that gave her pause, and she mentally kicked herself. She had a bad habit of saying too much. This wasn’t a friend dropping by for a visit—she was supposed to be professional. Just then the baby started to cry.
“That would be Emily.”
She headed back into the kitchen, too aware of the tall man behind her. He had a way of making her feel flustered in spite of herself. She heard Bryce set his suitcase by the door, then his footsteps came down the hallway after her. Emily’s tiny cry wavered from the corner. Lily scooped her up and the weeping stopped immediately. Her little onesie was damp from sweat, and Lily could only imagine that some air would feel nice.
Lily noticed Bryce pause in the doorway, and when he saw the baby, his expression grew softer. “How’s she doing?” he asked.
“Good.” Lily went closer so that he could see Emily’s little squished face. “She’s been sleeping and going through a lot of bottles of milk. She loves to be held, this one.”
“I’m glad,” he said, then cleared his throat. “So do you run this place by yourself?” He stepped back, then poked his head out the side door where a padded wicker chair waited invitingly.
“I do,” she said. “Can’t afford employees yet.”
She was proud of the title of sole owner—one she’d hardly dreamed possible. She would never have been able to save up a down payment to get started on her own, so she’d entered a contest for young entrepreneurs in Colorado with her business plan. She’d won first place—a check just big enough for her down payment on the old house and some supplies. Lily was certain it was an answer to her fervent prayers. A chance to climb out of the poverty she’d grown up in. And when God put an opportunity like this in her lap, she wasn’t about to squander it.
“Taking care of this place alone—is that safe?” Bryce pulled his head back inside and fixed her with a steady look. His seriousness was almost comical. What did he expect happened in Comfort Creek, exactly?
Lily laughed. “Of course. I know just about everybody in town, and we’re only three blocks from the police station.” She was also counting on most of her clientele being officers just like Bryce. Comfort Creek was probably the only town this size that had a regular influx of visitors due to the county’s training program.
Bryce smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I’m used to a different pace in Fort Collins.”
“Yeah, I imagine.” She switched the baby to the other arm, and Emily looked around in that cross-eyed way that newborns had.
“So, if you know everyone in town, any guesses as to the mother of Piglet here?” he asked, reaching out to touch her hand. The baby closed her fingers around his thumb.
Lily made a face. “A little piece of advice—never call a girl Piglet.” Bryce shot her a teasing grin, a little too much like her brothers did. “And no, I don’t know who the mother is. Maybe someone from an outlying community? I have no idea.”
She paused. Professionalism must prevail.
“Would you like me to show you to your room?” Lily asked. “Maybe you’d like to get settled before dinner.”
“I’m starving, actually. Wouldn’t mind eating first,” he said.
Lily gestured toward the rustic table, which she had set and ready for dinner. She looked down at the baby and back to Bryce. She couldn’t serve food one-handed.
“Hold her, would you? I just need to get dinner off the stove.”
Bryce froze for a moment, then awkwardly reached out to accept Emily from her hands. For a man who’d cared for the baby the entire morning, he was certainly acting strange. She eyed him curiously as she served up a heaping plate of fettuccine Alfredo, topping it with strips of lemon-marinated chicken breast. He settled Emily into the crook of his muscular arm, and she looked quickly away. He was a good-looking man, but she didn’t feel comfortable noticing that right now.
“So what do you normally do in Fort Collins?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t babysit,” he said. “There is a lot more actual crime-stopping.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Welcome to Comfort Creek. So what did you do to get sent here?”
She caught a look of embarrassment cross his face, and she immediately regretted the question—at least the phrasing. She was still rather curious about why he was here. What had he done to merit two weeks in the dullest town in Colorado?
“I had a little disagreement with another officer,” he said, smiling wanly. “It got...heated.”
“Ah.” She was curious what “heated” looked like, but she wouldn’t ask. Bryce Camden was a big man with a broad chest and muscles that strained his shirtsleeves when he bent his arms. She could imagine that he’d be intimidating.
She brought his plate back to the table and set it in front of him. A jug of pink lemonade sat within his reach, the clear glass fogged with condensation.
“Aren’t you eating?” he asked.
“I’ve already eaten,” she admitted. She hadn’t worked out how she’d feed her guests—leaving them be or sitting with them. Bryce seemed to want company, so she sat down in a chair opposite him.
“Let me take her back,” Lily said, and lifted the baby from his arms. Child care was tiring, but there was something so sweet about little Emily that Lily found herself feeling strangely complete with the baby back in her arms. This hadn’t been part of her plan at all, but this tiny girl had her by the heartstrings already.
“So tell me about this aunt’s wedding,” he said, pouring a glass of lemonade.
“Pardon me?”
“You said it’s the most interesting thing happening around here,” he said. “Besides rats.”
Lily smiled and shook her head. “Well, Aunt Clarisse is widowed. She’s about sixty-four or so now. My uncle died ten years ago, and she’s been alone all this time. Then all of a sudden she announced that she’s getting married to some fellow she met online.”
“Oh yeah?” He sat back in his chair and shot her a curious glance. “How long did they date?”
“She says it was for a few months, but we’d never seen him before—or heard of him, for that matter. Last month, Aaron moved to town, and they started planning their wedding.” She nodded to his untouched plate of food. “Bon appétit.”
“This looks delicious.” Bryce bowed his head for a moment, then sank his fork into the noodles without missing a beat. “So what’s the problem with Aaron?”
“I didn’t say there was a problem,” she said with a small smile.
“You didn’t need to. You don’t hide your feelings very well.”
She never had been able to mask her true emotions. But when it came to Aaron, it wasn’t that Lily thought that a difference in age was that big of a deal. She’d watched enough crime shows to know that mature widows were a prime target for con men, however—a sentiment shared by half of her extended family.
“He’s quite a bit younger than she is,” she said.
“How much younger?”
“About twenty
years.”
“It’s not unheard of,” Bryce agreed thoughtfully. “But I see the concern.”
“So you’re right, we’re worried.”
“Who’s we?” he asked, swallowing a bite.
“About half the family,” she admitted.
“And the other half?”
“Thinks she’s making a fool of herself.”
Bryce barked out a laugh. “So you get a feeling that something is up, do you?”
Lily sighed. “If there were something suspicious going on, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try to protect my aunt. I know that TV isn’t real life, but I’ve seen the shows, and—”
“No, you’re right about it looking a bit suspicious. I mean, there might be nothing to it. It might be that two perfectly nice people fell in love with each other and want to get married. A few months of dating is quick, but not unheard of. Like you said, though, you’ve never seen the guy before. People can pretend to be something they aren’t pretty easily online.”
“So you think I’m right?” she clarified.
“I think it’s worth looking into,” he replied, spearing a piece of chicken. “This is amazing, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Lily smiled at the compliment. She was relieved to have Bryce agreeing with her about her aunt’s beau. When she’d mentioned it to another officer she knew, he’d told her that there was no legal obstacle to her aunt marrying anyone she chose. But Officer Nick Colburn had also been fighting with his girlfriend’s family at the time, so that might have colored his view a little bit. But if Bryce would help her—
“So, will you look into it, then?” Lily asked.
“Pardon me?” Bryce blinked.
“My aunt’s fiancé.” She leaned forward. “Will you make sure that he isn’t some sort of con man?”
Bryce didn’t answer for a moment, and his gaze turned toward the window. Outside there were some fruit trees and a wooden framed swing. He didn’t seem to be taking in the scenery, though. Had she overstepped again? Probably. She was the queen of overstepping, it seemed.
“I’m sorry.” She rose to her feet and swayed gently, the baby’s eyes slowly closing as she did so. “I can get too friendly. I’m used to knowing everyone and—”
“So what’s this guy’s name?” Bryce asked.
“Are you saying you’ll look into it for me?” She stopped rocking, and Emily’s eyes popped back open again.
“I might as well,” he said. “While I’m here.”
Lily blinked back a mist of unexpected emotion and gave a curt nod. She was more relieved than she realized.
“His name is Aaron Bay. He claims to be from Denver. And the wedding is in two weeks, so—”
“So we’re on a bit of a tight schedule,” Bryce concluded.
“Yes.” She smiled. “Thank you, Bryce. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
If this officer would help her to get some answers, it would take away one of her worries. Aunt Clarisse was a kind woman—maybe too kind for her own good. A cynical cop was just what they all needed, and his visit was perfectly timed. He had two weeks in town, and she had two weeks until her aunt’s wedding.
Lily began to rock Emily again, and those little eyes drooped shut. She might be the queen of overstepping, but she’d keep a tight rein on her behavior with this handsome cop. The last thing she needed was to complicate her life any more than it already was.
Chapter Two
The room smelled faintly of floor polish mingled with the scent of the flowers on the bedside table. His hostess had thought of every detail, from the Wi-Fi password in a silver picture frame to the handmade quilt draped across the end of the bed. Bryce lay between crisp white sheets that smelled ever so subtly of bleach, knowing that he’d probably never been more comfortable in his life, but was still unable to sleep. There was something about the quiet that was throwing him off. How did people relax in a place so ridiculously silent?
Lily and the baby stayed in a little cottage in the back—a structure that probably used to be a mother-in-law suite, but that seemed to serve her purposes nicely. She got some privacy, but she was still close enough if her guests needed anything during the night. She’d given him a phone number for her cell phone and told him not to hesitate to call if he needed anything at all. Truthfully, he’d hesitate. He never had been comfortable being waited on.
Bryce’s Bible lay to the side. He’d tried reading it twice already and been unsuccessful.
Lord, I’m sorry.
Bryce wasn’t one to shirk the consequences of his own actions, and he knew he’d been wrong when he punched Leroy Higgins. He wasn’t the kind of guy to just lose control like that, and the episode had scared him a bit. Leroy had been ragging on him for weeks when he’d found out who his father was.
Bryce’s dad had been a police officer, too, until he quit under some fierce allegations of professional misconduct. And while Leroy thought his jokes were hilarious, Bryce had finally had enough. But physically lashing out...that had been wrong and a lot more like his father than he was comfortable with.
Outside an owl hooted, forcing him to take back his last thought about silence. It wasn’t completely quiet, really, because there were sounds, just not the kind that he was used to. The constant hum of traffic and the far-off chug of a train did the trick back in Fort Collins. A mystery novel and a couple of Psalms just before turning in had been a great relaxer as well, but all this quiet made his ordinary routines insufficient. His conscience wasn’t helping matters, either.
That evening, he’d held Emily for an hour or more while Lily went around cleaning up the kitchen. The baby cried in the bassinet and cried in Lily’s arms. The only quiet they managed to get was when he paced the kitchen with Emily snuggled against his chest. What was a guy supposed to do? Lily had cleaned and scrubbed while he paced, and while she worked, she talked. For as much as she talked, though, he had a feeling there was a lot she held back.
Lily was pretty in a way that he didn’t see too often in the city. Her hair was natural—not the bottle blond he saw so often. She wore very little makeup, and he was glad of that because the smattering of freckles over her face was endearing. She was petite and slim, but she wasn’t weak by any stretch. He’d seen her effortlessly lift a twenty-four-pound bag of flour. It was impressive.
And the whole time he’d held little Emily with those big brown eyes and the black hair that sprang off the top of her head like fireworks. Every time he looked down at that pink bow of a mouth, or let her grasp his finger with that tiny little hand, he couldn’t quite forget that he was terrible at this—he had a rotten track record.
There had been other kids in his life, and he’d managed to bungle those relationships. One Christmas Eve, he’d spilled the truth about Santa Claus at his cousin’s house. He still felt slightly wronged in that one, though, because he’d had no idea that kids actually still believed in Santa. He never had as a child, and no one had given him the memo about retaining the innocence or whatever. After that he’d stayed away during the holiday, and gave the kids Christmas cards with twenty-dollar bills enclosed. As far as he knew, they were happy with that arrangement—his cousin included.
Then there was the time that he tried to pull the tooth of his partner’s youngest daughter. That tooth had been dangling by a thread for the longest time, and he thought if he just gave it a tug...only it didn’t come out. The poor girl had hollered and cried and bled into a tissue, and he’d felt like a complete jerk. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and while her parents had been very forgiving and gracious about the whole thing, he still hadn’t forgiven himself for that one.
There was a whole litany of stories where Bryce muddled things up with kids—he was no good at it, and he shouldn’t be surprised. His dad had been the least comforting, most awkward man when it came to being a
father, and Bryce had inherited every last bit of it.
So as he’d cradled Piglet, he tried to pull his emotions away. But whenever he did, Emily would seem to sense a change in him, and she’d start to cry, and he’d be pulled right back into singing “America the Beautiful.” And Lily would look at him like he was ridiculous, and he’d know that this arrangement that left him on baby duty was most definitely not working.
He knew it wasn’t, but he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. It was this or sleeping in his truck, and he knew that he’d be an idiot to give up the clean, cozy bedroom. Somehow, he’d just have to get through these next two weeks, and then escape back to Fort Collins. At least doing a background check on Lily’s aunt’s fiancé would help to distract him. Besides the beautiful Miss Ellison, Comfort Creek seemed to offer very little distraction from his own personal issues. Perhaps that was part of the strategy out here.
Outside, a different kind of sound broke the night stillness. It was the thump of feet hitting the ground and a soft grunt, followed quickly by another pair of feet and a male voice muttering in irritation. Bryce tossed back the sheet and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. A digital clock glowed 11:00, and Bryce almost rolled his eyes. It felt like the middle of the night here in Comfort Creek. In Fort Collins, he’d be up watching the news.
Bryce crept to the gabled window and looked out. He had a clear view of the yard in the silvery moonlight, and he could see two young men standing in the flower garden, picking their way out of it. They’d obviously just jumped a fence, and they were moving toward the house.
This was the kind of thing he knew how to handle. Babies—not so much. Break-and-enters, trespassers, and general run-of-the-mill bad guys? That was his comfort zone.
Bryce slipped his gun holster over his shoulder and buckled it into place. He slid into a pair of jeans, too. Taking down a couple of perps in pajama bottoms just seemed undignified. His bare feet made no sound on the wooden floorboards as he crept from his bedroom and down the stairs. Everything was silent and still—nothing out of order, but he could hear the muttered voices of the young men outside the kitchen window.
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