The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise

by Brenda Harlen

  “Parked, with the key in the cup holder, in the driveway of the owner’s house on Mountainview Road.”

  Katelyn shook her head. “Anyone who leaves, in plain view, the key to a fancy car deserves to have it stolen.”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

  “How mad was Rebecca Blake when she realized her car had been taken?”

  “Beyond mad,” he admitted. “And more than a little embarrassed, because she knew that she’d left the key in it.”

  “She was at Elsie Hampton’s funeral—and she’s known Aiden since he was in diapers,” Katelyn told him. “As mad and embarrassed as she was, I’m a little surprised that she wanted to press charges.”

  “It wasn’t her choice,” he said.

  “You do know you’ll never get a conviction on grand larceny, don’t you? It would be a waste of time and resources to even take it to trial.”

  “That’s an argument better saved for your discussions with the prosecutor,” he suggested.

  “Maybe it’s different in Echo Ridge, but here the prosecutor doesn’t usually make decisions about the disposition of charges without first consulting the Sheriff’s Office.”

  “I investigated the complaint of a stolen vehicle and made the appropriate arrests,” he said. “Now it’s up to your pal in the ADA’s office to decide what to do with the defendants.”

  “Dustin Perry’s not my pal,” she told him.

  “I saw the two of you chatting while waiting for the judge. He seemed...favorably inclined toward you.”

  “You know, for a guy who was quick to point out that he’s not a lawyer, you sound an awful lot like one at times.”

  He frowned. “Are you trying to spoil my appetite?”

  She looked at his almost empty plate. “Not much chance of that.”

  “What can I say? This is great pasta,” he said.

  And it was. The red sauce had chunks of tomato, pepper and onion and was just a little bit spicy. But while he’d been mopping up sauce with a second slice of crusty bread, he noticed that she’d hardly touched her meal. She had her fork in hand and was pushing the pasta around on her plate, but she’d rarely lifted the utensil to her mouth.

  “I didn’t make anything for dessert, but I do have ice cream,” she told him.

  “What kind?”

  She pushed her chair away from the table and went to open the freezer drawer below the refrigerator. Her appliances were all top of the line—as was everything else that he could see. Whoever had renovated the building had spared no expense in the dark walnut cupboards, natural granite countertops, marble tile and hardwood floors.

  “Chocolate, chocolate ’n’ peanut butter or chocolate chip cookie dough,” she offered.

  “Nothing with chocolate?” he asked drily.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “Do you have cones?”

  “No, but I have waffle bowls,” she told him.

  “Even better,” he decided.

  “What kind do you want?”

  “Cookie dough.”

  She took the container out of the freezer and set it on the counter, then opened the cupboard and stood on her toes. “If they were more easily accessible, I’d indulge all the time,” she explained, as she stretched toward the top shelf.

  “If you didn’t want to indulge, you wouldn’t buy them,” he commented, easily reaching over her head for the box.

  She pulled open a drawer to retrieve an ice-cream scoop. “That’s just the kind of logic I’d expect from a man.”

  He set the box on the corner, then lifted his hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertip slowly tracing the outer shell.

  The scoop slipped from her grasp, bounced on the counter.

  “I don’t remember you being skittish,” he said.

  She swallowed. “I’m not usually.”

  “So what has you strung so tight now?” he wondered aloud. “Are you worried that I’m going to make a move?” He stepped closer, so that she was trapped between the counter at her back and him at her front. “Or that I’m not?”

  The pulse at the base of her jaw was racing, and her slightly parted lips—so tempting and soft—were mere inches from his own. Her gaze went to his mouth, lingered, as if she wanted his kiss as much as he wanted to kiss her.

  Then she turned her head away and shifted to the left, sidestepping both him and his question.

  “What’s going on, Katelyn?” he pressed, because it was obvious that something was.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip as she pried the lid off the ice-cream container.

  “Katelyn?” he prompted, ignoring the caution lights that were flashing in his head.

  Finally, she looked at him, her big blue eyes filled with wariness and worry. “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter Five

  She hadn’t intended to blurt it out like that, but now that the words had been spoken, Kate actually felt relieved. It was no longer this big secret that she was keeping bottled up inside; she’d done the right thing and told Reid about the baby.

  Now she just had to deal with his reaction, whatever that might be.

  He reached behind him, his hands curling over the edge of the island countertop, as if he needed the support to remain standing. She understood how he felt—she was more than a little unsteady herself.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  “You’re sure?” he asked, after a long minute had passed.

  She nodded. “I took one of those over-the-counter tests. Actually, I took three,” she admitted. “And I got official confirmation from the doctor last week.”

  He went back to the table for his beer, tipped the bottle to his lips. “That’s why you were in Echo Ridge,” he realized. “Because you think it’s mine.”

  Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t fault him for asking. She’d jumped into bed with him only a few hours after their first meeting—why wouldn’t he assume that was normal behavior for her?

  “I know it’s yours,” she told him. “You’re the only man I’ve been with in...a long time. But considering how quickly everything happened between us, I can understand why you’d ask, why you’d want proof.”

  He fell silent again, and she found herself babbling in an effort to fill the silence.

  “We can have a DNA test as soon as the baby’s born. It’s possible to do paternity testing before birth, through amniocentesis, but it also increases the risk of miscarriage and I’d rather not take the chance when there are no other factors that warrant it.”

  He nodded, but whether it was in agreement or understanding, she had no idea.

  “I’m not asking anything of you,” she hastened to reassure him. “I made the decision to have this baby on my own, and I intend to raise the baby on my own.”

  That, finally, got a response from him.

  “You didn’t make the baby on your own,” he pointed out.

  “Well, no,” she agreed, her body humming in remembrance of the pleasures she’d experienced in his arms.

  “And I don’t shirk my responsibilities,” he said with grim resolve.

  “I appreciate that, Reid, but—”

  He shook his head. “No buts, Katelyn.”

  She didn’t know him well enough to have anticipated his response to the news—whether he’d be shocked or angry or disbelieving, but she’d tried to prepare for all those possibilities. So far, he hadn’t responded with any recognizable emotion.

  “I think we both need to take some time to think about what this means and where we want to go from here,” she suggested cautiously.

  Finally, he nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  She e
xhaled a quiet sigh of relief as she followed him to the door.

  He paused with his hand on the knob. “If you need anything, give me a call.”

  “I will.”

  Then he leaned down and touched his lips to the top of her head. “Thanks for dinner, Katelyn.”

  The sweet gesture made her throat tighten. She closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears as she shut the door behind him and flipped the lock.

  Only eight days had passed since Dr. Amaro had confirmed her pregnancy, after which her first thought had been to track down Reid and let him know that she was going to have his baby. Traveling all the way to Echo Ridge only to discover that he wasn’t there had been another emotional upheaval. She’d been filled with disappointment and frustration and, yes, relief.

  It was as if she’d been given a reprieve, an opportunity to figure out what she wanted to do without having to factor her baby’s father into the equation. Finding him in the Sheriff’s Office in Haven was just one more surprise she hadn’t been anticipating.

  Working in family law had shown her that co-parenting could make things a lot easier—or a lot harder. She also knew that if Reid wanted to acknowledge paternity and be a father to their child, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Was it any wonder that she was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed and terrified?

  Because if he didn’t want to be involved, she’d have to struggle through every step on her own. Not just pregnancy and childbirth, but midnight feedings, diaper rashes and teething woes. Then skinned knees and long division and, in later years, first dates and broken hearts and various other disappointments.

  But she was equally terrified that he’d embrace fatherhood and she’d have to interact with him on an almost daily basis for the next eighteen years and beyond. The recent trend toward shared custody meant that he could be entitled to equal time with the baby who was right now nestled in the warm comfort of her womb. He would have an equal say in where their child went to school and what sports or activities he or she participated in.

  And maybe they’d be in complete agreement about all those things—but what if they weren’t?

  She touched a hand to her still-flat stomach, awed and amazed to think that there was a tiny life growing inside her. A tiny life that would someday call her mama, then mommy and mom and eventually mother, accompanied by a preteen eye-roll.

  She had no experience of her own to draw on after that. Theresa Gilmore had died when Kate was twelve, forcing her to negotiate the awkward teen years and all major transitions after that without her guidance. There were so many milestones that she’d marked without her mother’s presence: graduation from high school, acceptance to law school, the unveiling of her name stenciled on her office window.

  There were so many times over the years that she’d missed having her mom around, but never had she missed her support more than she did upon realizing that she was going to be a mother herself. And now, she was going to have to go through all the phases of pregnancy and childbirth without her, too.

  Still, Kate knew she was lucky. Though her father wouldn’t be happy to learn that his unmarried daughter was going to have a baby, she didn’t doubt that he’d be supportive—or that he’d love his grandchild. Her grandparents and sister and brothers would also be there any time she needed anything. And her best friend, Emerson, a recent new mother, would be able to offer advice and insights.

  Despite all the support available to her, she was scared to death that she’d somehow screw this up.

  And because her baby had been conceived with a man she barely knew, she’d have to work with him to figure out what was best for their child.

  Oh, what a mess I’ve made of my life.

  Except that she didn’t really regret anything that had happened, because she already loved her baby more than she’d ever thought possible.

  Returning to the kitchen to tidy up the dishes, she noticed the forgotten chocolate chip cookie dough on the counter. She dropped the unused scoop back in the cutlery drawer and took out a spoon. Then she sat down on the cold tile floor and dipped her spoon into the tub.

  Because melting ice cream was at least one problem she knew how to solve.

  * * *

  Reid left her apartment with no concept of where he was going or what he was going to do.

  Katelyn Gilmore was pregnant—with his child—and he was completely unprepared to be a father.

  It wasn’t just bad timing. He wasn’t one of those guys who always thought he’d be a father “someday” but had to accept that the day would come sooner than anticipated. No, years earlier Reid had consciously decided that he wouldn’t ever have a child. He’d even considered having surgery to ensure it couldn’t happen, except that the prospect of going under the knife was daunting and condoms were readily available.

  But fate had apparently decided to kick that conscious decision to the curb. It was as if all the stars had aligned to screw him over with a broken condom.

  Not that he’d ever put much stock in fate or the alignment of stars, but when his ex-wife had met her current husband, she told Reid that fate had put Jonah in her path. He’d countered with skepticism, pointing out that the hand of destiny—if there was such a thing—had better things to do than muck around in the computers at 4evermatch.com. Trish would no doubt get a huge kick out of his current predicament, claiming it was karma because he’d disrespected the higher powers of the universe.

  Not that he intended to tell Trish—or anyone else. At least not until he and Katelyn had figured out what they were going to do.

  For now, he just started walking. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to be alone, because then he’d have to think about the news Katelyn had dropped in his lap. He’d have to acknowledge that, all conscious decision-making and careful planning aside, he was going to be a father.

  He walked with no clear destination in mind, past the shops and businesses that lined Main Street. He lifted his hand in greeting when Reggie Mann—owner and operator of Mann’s Movie Theater—called out to him, but he didn’t pause. He didn’t want to make conversation; he didn’t want to make friends.

  What he wanted, he realized as he approached Diggers’ Bar & Grill, was to get so rip-roaring drunk he could no longer hear the words that continued to echo in his head. Of course, he’d never let the residents of Haven see their sheriff in such a state, but he was off duty and out of uniform, so he figured it was okay to have a drink or two.

  The double doors opened into an enclosed foyer that housed two entrances. The one on the left was clearly marked Bar and the one on the right designated Grill. Once inside it was easy enough to move from one side to the other, as both were under the same roof with only a partial wall dividing them, but it allowed families to take their kids for a meal without having to walk through a bar to get to a table.

  The interior was deliberately rustic, with floors of unpainted, weathered wood slats, scuffed and scarred from the steady traffic of boot heels. Framed newspaper headlines proclaiming the discovery of gold and silver in the nearby hills hung on the walls along with miners’ helmets, metal pans, buckets, coils of rope, pickaxes and a few other items that he had no idea what they were but hoped were securely fastened, because some of them had the potential to be lethal weapons otherwise.

  Reid’s first day on the job, Jed Traynor had taken him through the door on the right to Diggers’ Grill for lunch. Tonight, he went through the door on the left.

  There were several patrons already seated at the bar—some of them watching the baseball game on the two big screens, a young couple snuggled close together sharing a plate heaped with cheesy nachos, a trio of older men focused on their drinks.

  He straddled a vacant stool and surveyed the labels on the taps in front of him. Not that it really mattered which one he chose—after a few, they all tasted pretty much the same. And
his only purpose in being here right now was to drink until his brain was fuzzy enough to let him forget he was going to be a dad.

  The irony of the situation was not lost on him. His marriage had fallen apart because he didn’t want to have a child with his wife. Now he was going to have a child with a woman he barely knew. And while the situation wasn’t what he would have chosen, Katelyn’s pregnancy took choice out of the equation.

  Maybe it’s not mine.

  The thought sneaked into his mind, seductively tempting.

  But over the years, he’d gotten adept at reading people, and nothing Katelyn had said or done had given him reason to suspect she wasn’t being honest with him.

  I know it’s yours. You’re the only man I’ve been with in...a long time.

  And if he needed any more evidence that he could plausibly be the father of her baby, there was the broken condom.

  That had created a moment of panic for both of them, but they’d managed to convince themselves that the odds of a faulty bit of latex coinciding with her fertile time were negligible. And they’d put the broken condom out of their minds and made love several more times after that, without any further mishaps, unable to get enough of one another. He hadn’t been so hot for any female since he was a teenager and the sight of Lana Doucet in skintight jeans and a clingy sweater was enough to give him a hard-on.

  But there was something about Katelyn—from the minute she’d walked through the door of that conference room, he’d wanted her. He’d been sure it was his lucky day when she agreed to have a drink with him. When she invited him back to her room, he’d felt like the luckiest man in the world.

  Apparently his luck had run out.

  One of the bartenders, an attractive blonde with blue eyes and an easy—almost familiar—smile, made her way down the bar. Reid studied her for a minute, wondering if he’d already met her in town. If he had, he couldn’t remember when or where.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked.

  “I’ll have a pint of the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.”

  She grabbed a glass from the shelf but paused before setting it under the tap. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?”