The Baby Wore a Badge

by Marie Ferrarella

  Instead, the first bite was followed by another, and then another. Her eyes rose to his and she pronounced the effort “Very good.” And then she looked at him suspiciously. “Why aren’t you having any? Should I worry that you sprinkled oleander powder on the omelet when I wasn’t looking?”

  She’d read somewhere that, odorless and tasteless, the flowering plant was nonetheless very poisonous. It could be ground up and added to food with the intended victim being none the wiser.

  “Really one of a kind,” Jake murmured, repeating what he’d said earlier.

  In response to her deadpanned question, he took a bite from his own plate, then reached over to hers and took another bite-size piece from her plate.

  “There,” he said once his mouth was empty again, “that should prove that both portions are safe,” he told her. “I was just watching to see your reaction to the omelet. I didn’t want you just being polite while meanwhile, you felt as if your mouth was on fire.”

  “My mouth was on fire,” Calista contradicted, a secretive smile curving the corners of her mouth as she looked at him. “But trust me, the omelet had very little to do with it.”

  Her words drew a warm smile up to his lips before Jake was even aware that his mouth was smiling. Despite his best efforts to hold her at bay, she was having a definite effect on him.

  “So you like the omelet,” he finally said.

  “Very much. Personally, I think the bits of ham, bacon and especially that green pepper really make the meal.” It was a teasing remark. The ingredients she’d mentioned, all finely diced and chopped, were her personal addition to the mixture.

  Jake looked up from his plate, his eyes meeting hers. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his lips as he said, “I think so, too.”

  Warm ripples of pleasure undulated all through her. She didn’t remember eating the rest of her portion. What she did remember, quite vividly, was the man who was sitting beside her, and the effect he was having on her while she ate.

  Chapter Ten

  Jake looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d never been a vain man, and right now, he felt as if he looked like hell. But there was a reason for that.

  He hadn’t slept, at least not long enough for his body to recharge.

  The night had been one long tossing-and-turning fest, rendering him unable to sleep for more than approximately two hours at a time, at which point he’d wake up and begin the struggle to get back to sleep all over again. It had turned out to be a losing battle.

  For the first time since he’d become a hands-on father, his sleep-deprived night wasn’t because Marlie’s crying was keeping him up. Wonder of wonders, his daughter had actually slept through most of the night and he hoped it was a sign of things to come—just as he hoped his restless night wasn’t.

  Dressed and shaved, he went downstairs, hoping that breakfast might make him feel half-human.

  Part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep, he knew, was because he was sincerely worried that he was going to have to resort to drastic measures to keep from losing custody of his daughter.

  But part of it had nothing to do with Marlie at all except, perhaps, in the most cursory sort of way—if he hadn’t had Marlie, most likely his path would have never crossed Calista’s.

  Hell, except for having come to Thunder Canyon for Erin and Corey’s wedding, he wouldn’t even have been here at all if not for Marlie. He’d still be a cop back in New Orleans and in all likelihood, both he and Calista would have lived out their lives without ever even having a conversation, much less one as serious as the one that they’d had last night.

  Before Calista had gone home, she had restated, rather forcefully, that she’d meant what she said: if he needed her to become his wife to keep his child, she was willing to do it.

  By that point she’d convinced him that she’d made the offer in all sincerity and he, God help him, was actually considering it—and not just because it would allow him to keep Marlie. He’d begun to entertain the thought because he was more than just a little attracted to the vibrant, enthusiastic young woman.

  They were as different as night and day. She was dawn to his dusk. She was lively while he was stoic. And yet there was…something. Something there that drew him in, that attracted him to her.

  And the fact that he was so attracted to her bothered the hell out of him. He was a responsible person, a cop, a father, and he should know better than to have these sorts of feelings about a recently graduated college student, for heaven’s sake.

  Didn’t that make him a cradle robber or something along those lines? He was too old for her, too old to be having these kind of thoughts about her….

  And yet…

  And yet she made him feel good. She made him laugh and feel alive.

  He stood at the landing for a minute and dragged his hand through his hair. Damn, but he wished he was still working so he didn’t have all this time to do nothing else but just think. In his case, thinking wasn’t highly recommended.

  He didn’t realize that he’d sighed loudly until he walked into the kitchen and Erin turned around from the stove and looked at him.

  “Bad night?” she asked sympathetically.

  He frowned, thinking of the handful of semi-formed dreams he’d had all centered around Calista last night, dreams that startled him enough to make him jerk awake, then left him to lie there, staring off into the dark and feeling guilty.

  “Yeah.”

  Erin thought for a moment. “I didn’t hear Marlie crying during the night.”

  Opening the refrigerator, he stared into it. Now that he was down here, he didn’t know what he wanted to eat. Ambivalence had invaded every nook and cranny of his life. “That’s because she slept through most of it,” he answered absently.

  Erin didn’t understand. “Then what kept you up?”

  He finally closed the refrigerator, coming away empty-handed. “Other things.”

  And then Erin understood—or thought she did. “You’re worried about losing her, aren’t you?” She wanted to throw her arms around him, to hug him, but she knew that wouldn’t really help. “Oh, Jake, don’t worry, we’ll fight this.” She knew Corey was more than willing to help and heaven knew he had the resources. Jake didn’t like being indebted to anyone, even family, but these were special circumstances. “We won’t let those people take Marlie away from you.”

  Looking around, Erin suddenly realized that there was something missing. She remembered leaving pots piled up on the drying rack, not to mention dishes in the dishwasher. A quick check told her that the dishwasher was now empty, as was the drying rack.

  Her eyes shifted back to Jake. “Did you clean the kitchen last night?” she asked with more than a hint of disbelief in her voice. Jake wasn’t a slob, but he never cleaned up after anyone else.

  “Calista did.” He opened the refrigerator again. This time, he took out a carton of orange juice. His stomach was growling. “She cleaned up while we were making dinner.”

  Erin backed up mentally. She knew Jake knew how to warm things up in a microwave, but this sounded a lot more serious than that. “You cooked for her?”

  Taking down a glass from the cupboard, he set it on the counter and filled it with juice. “It was more of a combined effort.” He paused to drain half the glass. “I started to make her dinner to thank her for her offer and she wound up pitching in.” His eyes met Erin’s as he went on to marvel, “And everything that was used, she washed a second after we were finished using it. Never saw anything quite like it.”

  Something in his voice caught Erin’s attention. He sounded intrigued, for lack of a better word. Did Jake have feelings for Calista?

  “You’re not really thinking of marrying her, are you?” she asked, feeling him out. “I mean, I know these kinds of things are done, but they’re done by other people. Not people like us, like you,” she insisted. “There should only be one real reason to get married, because you love each other.” Her expression grew
very serious. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great girl, but you and Calista hardly know each other.”

  He’d never liked being lectured to, however softly put and well-intended. It got his back up. “You and Corey didn’t exactly grow up together,” he pointed out.

  From what he recalled, Erin had been working as a receptionist at the new, rebuilt Thunder Canyon Lodge when she met Corey, who’d been brought in along with Dillon as a major investor in the new resort. When they’d gotten married it was at the end of what was a fairly whirlwind courtship.

  Erin forgot about breakfast. What her brother was alluding to was far more interesting. “Are you saying you actually have feelings for Calista?”

  Jake shrugged, not so much looking away from Erin as looking into his soul. Searching for answers. Could what he was experiencing be called “feelings”? Or was he just being vulnerable, a word—and concept—that he loathed to apply to himself?

  Except that it was true.

  “I’m saying there’s chemistry and if that’s a way to keep Marlie without turning this whole thing into some three-ring circus, or dragging it endlessly through the courts, well, maybe I shouldn’t just turn my back on it without exploring the possibility more fully.” He saw the set of his sister’s mouth and laughed shortly. “I thought I was the stoic one in the family. What happened to the devil-may-care sister I had?” he wanted to know. “The one who used to say that tomorrow would take care of itself and that she just wanted to live in the moment? The one who said never let an opportunity go by without grabbing it and using it to your advantage?”

  “She got married and grew up, not entirely in that order,” Erin answered. Reaching up, she put her hand on her brother’s shoulder and said with deep sincerity, “I just want you to be happy, Jake. And I definitely don’t want you to do something because you have to instead of because you want to.”

  “I’ll be happy if I can hang on to Marlie,” he said evasively, avoiding making a direct response on how he felt about Calista.

  “It’ll work out,” she promised him.

  “I know. One way or the other,” he added. Then, before she could say anything further about the situation, he asked, “Now, any chance that I can get you to whip me up some breakfast? I’d do it myself, but you’re a much better cook.”

  She laughed, brushing her lips against his cheek. “You smooth talked me into it. Go ahead, take a seat.”

  Opening up the refrigerator, she began taking things out to prepare a large breakfast for all of them.

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  Lingering over a superlight cup of bracing hot coffee, Calista looked up as her older sister, Catherine, came into the kitchen. So much for grabbing a few peaceful minutes alone with her coffee before heading off to work, she thought.

  “Not that I know of,” Calista responded with studied cheerfulness. “Are you referring to anything specific, or is that just a general philosophical question?”

  Slightly taller than her younger sibling, Catherine Clifton had the same willowy frame, the same long brown hair and the same deep chocolate eyes.

  And right now, they weren’t smiling, and neither was she.

  “Erin Traub called me last night, said you offered to marry her brother, Jake, so that he could get to keep his baby daughter,” she retorted, then demanded angrily, “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “My guess is fringe benefits,” Celeste, the sixteen-year-old baby of the family, better known to one and all as C.C., said as she walked in on the tail end of the conversation.

  Still wearing pajamas despite the fact that it was eight in the morning, C.C. went to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup of black liquid. Calista, she thought, always knew just how to brew an excellent cup of coffee.

  “Lighten up, Catherine,” C.C. urged. “Have you seen Jake Castro? Talk about your mouth-wateringly delicious male…” Her voice trailed off as she grinned wickedly. “Listen, Cali, if you change your mind about marrying that hunk, tell him I’m willing to jump in and take your place.”

  “You’re sixteen, you can’t jump in anywhere without parental consent,” Catherine informed her coolly. She thought of their mother, a very loving woman who indulged her children only so far and no more. “Good luck with that.”

  “Mom and Dad raised us to make sacrifices for good causes,” C.C. pointed out with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She loved baiting her older siblings, all except Calista who she thought was very cool. Besides, Calista always took her side in things. In her book, loyalty was rewarded with loyalty.

  “And my sacrifice will be to lock you up in your room until you’re thirty,” Catherine fired back.

  C.C. frowned as she looked at Catherine over her coffee mug. That didn’t make any sense. “How is that a sacrifice for you?”

  That was simple enough. “I’ll have to listen to you screaming night and day.”

  Calista cleared her throat. And then cleared it again when no one seemed to hear her the first time. “Excuse me, people, but I can’t see why something I ‘might’ be doing is anybody’s business but my own.” She might have said it as if she was talking to both of her sisters, but she was actually addressing Catherine.

  Catherine looked at her as if she couldn’t believe that her sister had to ask. “We’re family. Everything you do is our business,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Haven’t you learned that by now?”

  C.C. looked at Calista and begged plaintively, “Take me with you when you go. Please.”

  “Nobody’s going anywhere yet,” Calista told C.C. How had her simple offer snowballed like this? “Marrying me is just Jake’s last resort.”

  Catherine rolled her eyes. “How very romantic,” she quipped drily.

  “This isn’t about ‘romantic,’” Calista insisted. “It’s about saving a baby from being dragged out of her father’s arms by two people who seem to think they know best.”

  Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Catherine gave her sister a penetrating look. “And you have no idea what that’s like.”

  Calista hadn’t expected her sister to exactly cheer her on, but she had expected a little more support from her than this. To find out she was wrong both hurt and annoyed her.

  “Why are you on their side?”

  “Wrong again,” Catherine declared. She placed a hand on Calista’s shoulder. “I’m on your side. Always.” There was compassion in Catherine’s eyes as she said, “I just don’t want you making any mistakes, kid.”

  If it came down to that, and she did marry Jake, she realized that Catherine was afraid Jake might take advantage of that fact.

  “Don’t worry. We’d only be married on paper,” Calista assured her. “It would all be platonic.”

  “Hello?” C.C. called out, pretending to knock on Calista’s head. “Again, have you seen Jake Castro? Who in their right mind would want to stay platonic with someone who looks like that?” she wanted to know.

  Catherine was studying Calista again and drawing her own conclusions. Beneath the supposed noble act was a woman with feelings. Feelings for Erin’s brother. “Not our sister, I’m willing to bet.”

  “Hey, I’m already on record about my feelings—” C.C. reminded Catherine.

  “Not you, that sister,” Catherine corrected as she nodded at Calista.

  Even when they were children, Catherine had always had this annoying habit of being able to practically read their minds, so protesting was not the way to go. Calista tried another route.

  “I’m not saying I don’t find him cute—” she began with a half-careless shrug.

  “Cute?” C.C. echoed incredulously. “When was your last eye exam? Kittens are cute,” she pronounced dismissively. “That man is drop-dead-and-rise-up-again-from-the-grave gorgeous. How can you not want to jump his bones the first chance you get?”

  “I am definitely locking you in your room,” Catherine declared with a frazzled sigh as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.

  C
.C. raised her chin, as if to issue a dare. “Do your worst,” she challenged.

  “And while I’m at it,” Catherine continued, “I’ll chop down that big tree outside your window.”

  “Now you’re not playing fair,” C.C. protested with a pout.

  “I’m older and wiser. I don’t have to play fair,” Catherine told her.

  “Well, I hate to bring an end to this lovely family bickering,” Calista announced as she rose to her feet. “But I promised Mr. Fowler that I’d come in for a few hours today to help him put out the new furniture he got at the Mayfield estate auction last week.” She crossed to the sink and quickly rinsed out her cup, then deposited it on the rack.

  C.C. shook her head. “Don’t know how you can stand to be around all that ugly furniture.” Extracting a bottled banana smoothie out of the refrigerator, she proceeded to retreat back into her room.

  “No breakfast?” Catherine asked Calista as the latter turned to head out the front door.

  “No time,” Calista answered, then added, “I used up all my extra time defending myself.” The words were said matter-of-factly, without a hint of accusation.

  Still, Catherine pressed her lips together as she followed her younger sister out. “It’s just because I love you.”

  Calista grinned. “I know.”

  Doubling back to grab a bagel—plain, no butter—she quickly hurried out the door.

  When she heard the front door to The Tattered Saddle being opened several hours later, Calista glanced up from her boring task, grateful for the break in tedium, even though it probably wouldn’t result in anything.

  Saturday was when people who worked all week indulged in window shopping and browsing in stores. However, a place like the Tattered Saddle rarely attracted customers. Those who did come in were generally forty-five or older, able to relate a little better to the merchandise that was being sold or, more accurately, resold, because most of the pieces there had had at least one previous owner before finding their way into the antique store.

  Calista did a double take, the identity of the customers—or rather customer and a half—registering a beat after she initially looked up. She was prepared to see one of her sisters, most likely C.C., or even one or more of her brothers—word spread fast in her family. She was not prepared to see Jake come walking in, with Marlie nestled in the carryall he had hooked over his forearm.