A Baby for the Deputy

by Cathy McDavid

  Nerves. And stress. Those had to be the reasons. Mel refused to consider anything else.

  * * *

  AARON WAS MAKING his third trip of the day to the Sanford place. The first time he’d arrived at 6:20 a.m. in response to the 9-1-1 call. He’d returned at 9:50 a.m. when Ken Sanford, Sr. called to say he’d discovered fresh tire tracks behind their far pasture—no one had driven the dirt road since before the last rains.

  Now, Aaron was heading to the ranch for another look around, planning to focus on the cut fence where the thieves had entered the property. When his cop’s gut told him to persist, he usually did. There was always the chance he’d missed something during his previous inspections.

  Horse rustling. Who’d have guessed he’d be investigating a crime of that nature in this day and age? A search of records at the station revealed the last such incident committed in Mustang Valley had been in the 1930s. Wow.

  Aaron observed every detail as he drove, despite frequently traveling this road. He couldn’t help himself—too many years on the force. That didn’t stop the other half of his brain from wandering. Specifically to Mel. Not that he didn’t always think of her when they weren’t together.

  She’d looked unwell earlier, and that bothered him. He understood the lines of fatigue on her pretty oval face. With her demanding schedule, that wasn’t uncommon. Rather, it was the lack of color in her cheeks and slowness of her steps concerning him.

  She was almost always happy and vivacious—a ball of energy contained inside a petite package. Those qualities more than her sparkling brown eyes and curvy figure were what caused him to notice her two winters ago at the community’s Holly Daze Festival.

  After that, it was hard not to keep noticing her and, eventually, talk to her. Just being in her proximity breathed new life into parts of Aaron’s heart and soul he’d thought forever darkened.

  Dangerous feelings and ones he shouldn’t have. Not if he wanted the life he’d scraped together for him and his daughter, Kaylee, to remain calm, quiet and stable. Emphasis on the last word. That was why he’d quit the Phoenix Police Department and taken the less demanding job of deputy sheriff.

  His phone abruptly rang. The personal one he kept in his vehicle, strictly for family and close friends. Snatching it from the cubby, he glimpsed his sister’s name and photo on the display. The picture of her and Kaylee was one of his favorites, taken during his sister’s last visit.

  “Hey, Pickle.”

  She groaned expansively. No secret, she hated the childhood nickname. Which was why Aaron insisted on using it.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Bad time to call?”

  Hearing Joanna’s voice immediately thrust him back in time to their family’s rural home in Queen Creek and their life together growing up. She’d moved to Seattle a year ago, and he missed her terribly. She’d been his rock, his staunchest supporter and his sounding board during the many difficult months Aaron’s wife was ill and every day since she’d died.

  “I’m on the road,” he said. “Have about ten minutes.”

  “Don’t tell me.” Joanna laughed, the sound rich and vibrant. “A rancher let his hound dog run loose, and it got in with the lady down the street’s King Charles spaniel.”

  He pretended to be affronted. “Believe it or not, there’s real crime in Mustang Valley.”

  “Riiiiiight.” She drew the single word out over three syllables.

  “We’ve had a recent rash of horse thefts.”

  “No fooling? That actually sounds serious.”

  “I’m on my way now to talk to the third victim.”

  “Do you have any leads?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been interviewing the locals.” Most people didn’t realize that 90 percent of good detective work was questioning potential witnesses.

  “Locals like Mel?”

  Aaron paused, not wanting to give his sister any ideas. “She’s a regular at most of the ranches in the valley and might run across something.”

  “How you two doing?”

  “We’re not dating.”

  “Hey, hey,” Joanna protested. “Don’t get mad. I think what you and Mel have is great. More couples should be as open-minded as you two.”

  “Yeah.” Except, what Aaron and Mel had didn’t feel open-minded to him.

  “Something wrong?” Joanna asked.

  “I don’t know.” He blew out a long breath. “Lately, I’ve been thinking she deserves more than casual hookups.”

  “Did she say so?”

  “No.”

  “Are you tired of the arrangement?”

  “Yes, but not in the way you think.”

  Joanna gave a delighted gasp. “You love her.”

  He gave a start and steadied his free hand on the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t say that.” Not yet, anyway. “I like her. A lot.”

  “Well, you should like the person you’re sleeping with.”

  “Am I being a jerk? Taking her for granted?” It was the opinion he’d recently formed of himself.

  “Come on. You and Mel have an arrangement. A good, sensible arrangement that works. Neither of you are ready or in a position for all the demands of a committed relationship. Yet, you’re human, and human beings require intimacy. You and she have come up with a creative solution. You get together a couple times a month for a few discreet hours of adult pleasure. No strings attached. It’s perfect.”

  “Spoken like a psychology major.”

  “Spoken like a feminist,” she said, correcting him. “I wish I could find someone with your progressive attitude. Beats being single.”

  His sister was the only person Aaron had told about his and Mel’s secret arrangement, and there were days he wished he hadn’t.

  Cripes, what was wrong with him? There was nothing sordid or dirty or wrong about what he and Mel did. She was completely on board. In fact, she’d been the one to originally suggest it. Yes, in a roundabout way, but not so subtle that Aaron hadn’t understood and, after a long, emotional tug-of-war with himself, agreed.

  She was beautiful and smart and as sexy as hell. When they were alone, she displayed the kind of passion he’d always hoped to find in a woman. Which only increased the guilt eating away at him. He could and did tell himself he wasn’t being disloyal to Robin. She’d been gone nearly three years.

  His heart argued differently, insisting he was dishonoring his late wife’s memory. Aaron’s mother-in-law would agree.

  “Mel should be with a guy who can offer her more,” he said to Joanna. “A guy who’s emotionally free.”

  “If that was what she wanted, she’d give you the boot.”

  “Sometimes, I wish she would.” Then he could stop wanting what he couldn’t have and beating himself up over it.

  “You’re worried about Nancy,” Joanna said, “and you shouldn’t be.”

  “If she ever found out—”

  “What? She’d leave? Go home to Ohio?”

  “I don’t want that. She loves Kaylee, and Kaylee loves her.”

  “If Nancy left, that would be her choice and her mistake to make.”

  Aaron rubbed his suddenly throbbing forehead. His arrangement with Mel was supposed to be without strings and without angst, yet it wasn’t. In hindsight, they’d been silly and stupid.

  He had, anyway. Truthfully, Aaron wasn’t entirely sure how Mel felt about him. She didn’t talk about it. Ever. And she didn’t encourage him to, either.

  “You’re single,” Joanna continued. “It’s not fair that Nancy expects you to remain that way for the rest of your life.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “You aren’t betraying Robin.”

  “I made a promise to her,” he bit out.

  “To never fall in love again?”

  “To devote myself to Kaylee.
I owe Robin that much. She gave up her life for our daughter.”

  Joanna’s voice softened. “You couldn’t save her, Aaron. No one could. At best, she might have lived a few more months. And you probably wouldn’t have had Kaylee. A lot of people, me included, think she made the right decision.”

  That didn’t lessen his loss, relieve his guilt or diminish his hurt.

  A few weeks after learning she was pregnant, Robin began having severe headaches that over-the-counter pain relievers wouldn’t touch. Two weeks later, she was seeing a specialist and undergoing all manner of tests. Aaron would never forget sitting in the doctor’s office and hearing the diagnosis: inoperable brain tumor. And then hearing the prognosis: terminal.

  Robin refused any treatment that might have extended her life because it would harm the baby. At thirty-four weeks pregnant, she’d delivered a small but healthy baby girl. Unfortunately, it was too late for her. The treatments she’d previously refused had no effect on her rapidly growing tumor, and she lost the battle when Kaylee was just a few weeks old.

  Robin’s wish to be a mother had been fulfilled and, in the process, she’d given Aaron a last precious gift. He would do nothing to jeopardize Kaylee’s safety and happiness.

  “Why don’t you talk to Mel,” Joanna suggested. “If you’re having doubts.”

  “Or, I could just end things.”

  “You could. Except that isn’t what you want.”

  Should he tell his sister what he really wanted was to date Mel and not just sleep with her? No, Joanna would have a field day with that one, and Aaron wasn’t in the mood.

  “Pickle, can I call you later? I’m almost at my next stop.” Not entirely a lie; the Sanfords were less than a mile down the road.

  “Tomorrow. I’ve got plans later,” she added with a teasing tone.

  “Have fun.”

  “Oh, I intend to.” She laughed again.

  Aaron disconnected, his thoughts a jumble. He really did like Mel and hated the thought of ending things. But he was being grossly unfair to her. She may think she preferred whatever this was they had, but deep down, she was a forever and ever kind of gal. Aaron wasn’t fooled for one minute.

  A quarter mile up the road, he spied an older model pickup and rusty horse trailer pulled off to the south side of the road. The truck hood was up, signaling trouble, and someone sat in the driver’s seat.

  He slowed, determining the driver to be a young woman. As he passed, she rolled down her window and waved at him. Aaron executed a swift U-turn and parked behind the trailer. A reddish-brown tail hung out over the rear gate and swished aimlessly.

  Before getting out, he radioed the station, then proceeded with caution all the while making mental notes. The situation didn’t appear dangerous, but he took nothing for granted.

  Nearing the driver’s door, he realized the young woman was on the phone.

  “Good afternoon.” He looked her over. “Having some trouble?”

  “I broke down. The engine light came on and then smoke started coming out from under the hood.”

  “License and registration, please.”

  “Have I done something wrong?” Her voice quavered.

  “Just routine.”

  Producing the required documents, she passed them through the open window, still clutching her phone. Aaron decided she must have maintained an open line as a precaution. Smart move. She wasn’t very old, maybe not even out of high school, and pretty, even with her torn jeans, faded tank top and ratty old ball cap. Add to that her disabled vehicle, and she was a potential sitting duck.

  Aaron reviewed the documents, noting the eighteen-year-old’s name and home address of Flagstaff. He compared her face to the tiny picture. Something about her struck a familiar chord, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  “Be right back.” In his vehicle, he ran her name and license plate. Nothing significant came back. What had he expected?

  Returning to her truck, he handed over the documents. “You’re a long ways from home.”

  “I’m staying with my...with friends in Mustang Valley.”

  “Are they on their way to help you?”

  “Uh...no. I wasn’t able to reach them.”

  “I see.” Aaron suspected she was coloring the truth and didn’t know why. “Do you have a roadside assistance service?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My mom can’t help.”

  “Because she’s in Flagstaff,” Aaron stated.

  “Yeah. And at work. I’m not supposed to call her unless it’s an emergency.”

  “This might qualify.”

  The girl, Samantha, according to her driver’s license, shook her head. “I’m not calling. She’s busy.”

  “And your friends aren’t available?”

  In response, her mouth firmed to a thin line.

  There was definitely more going on than she was telling him, and he didn’t trust her. Nonetheless, she’d broken no laws and was in distress. Not to mention her truck and trailer were a potential hazard and the horse would need water soon. Aaron had a duty to help her.

  “Sit tight,” he said, and walked to the front of the truck where he inspected the engine. Heat wafted off in waves, and it made a soft hissing sound. The smoke she’d claimed to see was probably steam.

  A moment later, she disobeyed his order and joined him, anxiously watching as if he might sabotage the engine rather than repair it.

  “You have an old rag I can use?”

  “In the, uh, trailer.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  She didn’t take long.

  Aaron rolled up his sleeves and, using the rag to remove the radiator cap, inspected the water level. No surprise, the radiator was bone dry.

  “You might have a leak,” he told her. “You should get this serviced right away. There’s an auto shop in town. Conroy’s. Ask your friends, they’ll tell you where he is.”

  “Okay.”

  Would she do it? She wouldn’t get far otherwise.

  After filling her radiator with water from the five-gallon jug he carried in the back of his SUV for just this reason, he had her try to start the truck. Luck was on her side, and it turned right over, chugging like an old man having a coughing fit. She definitely needed to see Conroy.

  Leaning her head out the window, she removed her ball cap. “Thanks for your help.”

  Aaron slammed the hood closed and, wiping his hands on the rag, started for his vehicle. “You be careful, you hear?” He stopped and flashed her a smile.

  She didn’t return it.

  Reaching his SUV, he sat behind the wheel and waited for her to pull ahead. Once she had, he radioed in, giving an update and advising the other deputies to keep a lookout for her. That accomplished, he executed a second U-turn and made for the Sanford place.

  Even though the girl’s name and license plate had checked out, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was exactly what Aaron had warned Mel to watch for: a stranger in an unfamiliar vehicle. The idea that a slip of a girl was involved with horse rustlers seemed preposterous. Appearances, however, were deceiving and something thieves might use to their advantage.

  Turning onto the Sanford’s private road, he recalled the young woman removing her ball cap and nearly slammed on the brakes. That was it! The reason she’d looked familiar to him. Her physical description was almost an exact duplicate of Mel’s. Blond hair. Brown eyes. Five foot two in her boots. They even had a similar small cleft in their chins.

  What were the odds of that?

  Chapter Two

  “Over here. Another three feet. Wait. No. Up against the wall.” Frankie Hartman barked orders in her customary bossy voice.

  Mel exchanged looks with her younger sister, Ronnie. As if on cue, they
both rolled their eyes and shuffled the table to the exact spot their older sister wanted. Which, it turned out, wasn’t so exact.

  “Centered beneath the window.” Frankie motioned with her hands to demonstrate.

  After two more shuffles with the table, Mel and Ronnie were released from their task and instructed to undertake another. There was still a lot to do before the party started at six, including all the decorating.

  Mel had brought streamers, a banner, party favors, confetti and a case of champagne. Ronnie’s job had been to create a photo collage depicting their father’s life from birth to now. Frankie brought the barbecued beef, a family favorite and her specialty dish.

  The owner of the Cowboy Up Café, and Frankie’s employer, had been kind enough to let them use the covered outdoor patio free of charge. With its built-in misting system, the patio was reasonably comfortable even in ninety-plus-degree temperatures.

  The sisters were grateful. With several dozen people expected to attend, they’d definitely needed a large venue, equipped to feed so many mouths. And as if the location wasn’t perfect enough, the owner was giving them a discount on the side dishes and beverages.

  “Napkins!” Frankie ripped open packages as if the success of the party depended on guests being able to wipe barbecue sauce off their faces and hands.

  Mel and Ronnie took their sister’s theatrics in stride. Besides being the oldest of the Hartman sisters and a single mother, she was the Cowboy Up Café’s head waitress and self-appointed organizer of their dad’s party. She’d also stepped in—to the best of her twelve-year-old ability—when the sisters’ mother had died over twenty years ago in a horse riding accident. “We’re here,” a high-pitched voice trilled. “Sorry we’re late.”

  Mel’s stepmom was accompanied by two very excited little girls: Frankie’s twin daughters.

  “We got balloons,” Paige announced.

  “And string,” Sienna added, holding up her booty.

  They were dressed alike in matching shorts and tees but were as different as night and day in personalities and features. Tiny, fair-haired Paige took after the Hartmans while tall, doe-eyed Sienna resembled her father, who wasn’t and had never been in the picture.