The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise

by Brenda Harlen

  She didn’t respond to that.

  “One of the reasons we got married was so that we could raise our child together. Until the baby’s born, we both need to take care of you.”

  “I’ll never object to you taking care of our vomiting child,” she promised. “But I don’t want anyone watching me throw up. It’s humiliating enough to know that you could hear me yakking my breakfast into the toilet.”

  “In sickness and in health,” he reminded her.

  “I’m not sick, I’m pregnant, and I really thought the morning sickness had passed. I was throwing up almost every day for a few weeks, then it was just once every two or three days, and for the past couple of weeks, it’s only been once a week. The last time was last Sunday, so I probably should have been prepared for this today.”

  “Then it wasn’t because we overdid it these past few days?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sure the nausea isn’t linked to anything we did or ate, and I sincerely hope the last half hour isn’t what you remember when you think about our honeymoon in San Francisco.”

  “It won’t be,” he promised. “I loved being here with you and seeing the sights, but my favorite memories took place in this room—most of them in that king-size bed.”

  “Maybe we should get a bigger bed—if you think one would fit in the apartment,” she suggested.

  “I don’t mind a queen,” he said. “It makes us snuggle closer.”

  “You’ll be closer than you want when my huge belly’s taking up all the space between us. I already feel like this baby’s getting bigger and bigger every day.”

  He laid his hands on the slight curve of her belly. “Coincidentally, you get more and more beautiful every day.”

  “We’ll see if you still think so in five months.”

  “I’ll still think so in five months,” he promised. “And in five years and in fifty years.”

  And although he said the words to reassure her, he realized that he meant them.

  Yeah, he’d proposed to Katelyn because she was pregnant, and he’d campaigned for her to say yes because he wanted to be more than a part-time father to their child. But sometime over the past few weeks, his motivation had stopped being all about the baby. Over the past few weeks, he’d realized that his life was fuller, richer and happier with Katelyn—so much so that he didn’t want to imagine a future without her in it.

  * * *

  Kate was surprised by how easy it was to settle into the routines of married life once they got back to Haven.

  Although the legal union between a criminal defense attorney and the local sheriff meant that there were some inherent conflicts between them, they adopted a strict rule about leaving work at the office to ensure that nothing interfered with either of them doing their respective jobs. She was fired by one long-time client who didn’t believe she could continue to represent him fairly, but for the most part, her practice continued to grow—and so did the baby.

  Aiden Hampton had finished his community service before returning to school for the fall term of his senior year, but he and his father continued to attend the grief counseling sessions that had been recommended by the Diversion Program coordinator. Near the end of September, the teen appeared in court for the final dismissal of the charges against him, after which he thanked the judge, then his attorney and even the sheriff who had locked him up—if only for a few hours.

  “Do you have to rush back to the office?” Reid asked Kate when court had been dismissed.

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Good, then you can take a ride with me.”

  She hitched her briefcase on her shoulder and walked beside him out of the courthouse. He guided her to his personal truck rather than the official vehicle of the Sheriff’s Office and opened the passenger door for her. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he told her.

  “What’s a surprise?” she pressed.

  He just shook his head. “No one warned me about your impatience before I married you.”

  “You think I’m impatient? Just wait until there’s a child strapped into a car seat in the back asking, ‘Are we there yet?’ every two minutes,” she said.

  “I can wait,” he said, flicking on his indicator before turning into a distinctly residential area. “Because I’m not impatient.”

  “Are we there yet?” she asked.

  He turned again, onto a dead-end street, then pulled up alongside the curb in front of a two-story brick house with a For Sale sign in the front yard.

  “Yes,” he said. “We’re there.”

  Kate felt a flutter of excitement in her belly as she looked at the house. She was familiar with the neighborhood, of course. There were newer and fancier homes being built on the south side of town, but this area was established, with bigger lots, plenty of mature trees and within walking distance of both the elementary and secondary schools.

  “I know the apartment is really convenient to your office and the courthouse,” he said to her. “But it’s kind of small—plus it was yours before it was ours, so I thought maybe we could choose another place together. Somewhere with room to grow.”

  “Hey, I haven’t put on that much weight,” she protested.

  He chuckled softly. “I meant to grow our family. Don’t you think little bean should have a brother or sister someday?”

  She felt the telltale sting of tears behind her eyes. “You want to have another baby with me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t have any siblings growing up, but watching you with yours, I’ve learned to appreciate the bond you share, and I want that for our kids.”

  “Brothers and sisters are great,” she agreed. “When they’re not a total pain in the a—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Didn’t we agree not to use bad language around the baby?”

  “Do you really think our baby is hearing anything yet?”

  “The books say that babies start to hear sound at eighteen weeks.”

  “Even if he—or she—can hear what I’m saying, I doubt he—or she—is comprehending,” she said drily.

  “I’d rather not take any chances that his—or her—first word might be an inappropriate one.”

  She linked her arms behind his head. “You’re going to be a great dad.”

  “I’m going to do my best,” he promised.

  “So...how many kids were you thinking you’d like to have?”

  “At least two,” he said.

  “You might change your mind after the first one’s born,” she warned. “When you’ve gone a month with no more than two consecutive hours of sleep and you’ve changed so many diapers you’ve lost count.”

  “Trish called today, didn’t she?”

  Kate nodded.

  “You really need to start screening your calls,” he advised.

  “I like talking to her,” she said. “Usually.”

  He turned her back toward the house. “What do you think? Do you want to look inside?”

  “Don’t we have to wait for the real estate agent?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got the code for the lockbox.”

  “I guess, since you’re the sheriff, she figured you were trustworthy?”

  “Good guess,” he said, leading her to the front door.

  “It needs some work,” he warned as he turned the key in the lock. “But mostly cosmetic—fresh paint, maybe new carpet or hardwood, updated appliances—and we could take care of that before we moved in.”

  As he showed her around the empty house—the owner having already moved to Arizona for a job promotion—she had to agree with his assessment. The decor was a little outdated, but she liked the layout—and she loved the spaciousness of the kitchen and the fireplace in the living room and the ma
ster bedroom suite.

  “What do you think?” he asked, ending the tour at the backyard, slightly overgrown with grass and weeds.

  “It might need more work than you realize, once you scrape off wallpaper and pull up carpets,” she warned. “Are you sure you’re ready to tackle all of that?”

  “I want to tackle all of that,” he told her. “I want our kids to have a house with a backyard, the lawn scattered with toys, maybe a swing set or one of those climbing things.

  “And a dog,” he added impulsively. “We should definitely get a dog.”

  “Let’s see how we manage with a baby first,” she suggested.

  “But what about the house?” he prompted.

  And his expression was so hopeful and his enthusiasm so infectious, she threw caution to the wind. “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  Ten days later, they signed the final papers and got the keys. That night, they picked up pizza from Jo’s and took it to 418 Sagebrush Lane, where they sat on the floor of the living room and ate their first meal in their new home. But they agreed it would be easier to do the work they wanted done before they moved in, and they’d set an ambitious target date of the end of October.

  “Speaking of dates,” Kate said, as she wiped pizza sauce off her fingers with a napkin. “It’s our one-month anniversary tomorrow.”

  “Is that something we’re supposed to celebrate?”

  “Not formally,” she said. “But I thought I might actually cook something for dinner—and you could pick up caramel fudge brownie cheesecake from Sweet Caroline’s for dessert—and we could have a private celebration.”

  “I like the sound of that,” he agreed.

  So Kate talked to Emerson and got a recipe that her friend promised was relatively foolproof. After work, she stopped by The Trading Post to get everything she needed to prepare the meal and then meticulously followed her friend’s step-by-step instructions.

  Half an hour later, when everything was finally ready, she got a text message from Reid.

  Sorry. Got a call. Won’t make dinner.

  She immediately replied:

  Ok. Be safe.

  Because as disappointed as she was that their plans for the evening had been ruined—or at least delayed—she understood that being married to the local sheriff inevitably meant there would be times when he didn’t make it home for dinner. It was even possible that, his best intentions notwithstanding, he wouldn’t be with her when she gave birth.

  As if unsettled by that possibility, their baby kicked an angry protest. Well, Kate guessed it was a kick, but all she really felt was a flutter. She was exactly nineteen weeks into her pregnancy now, and Emerson had assured her that what she’d originally described as a feeling of little air bubbles popping inside her belly were actually her baby’s first movements.

  She couldn’t wait until the baby was bigger and those movements were stronger, so Reid could feel them, too. But for now, she put a hand on the curve of her belly, instinctively soothing. “It’s okay, little bean. We’ll make sure you don’t make your grand entrance into the world until Daddy’s with us.”

  Then she went to the kitchen to turn off the stove. And though she wanted to wait to eat with Reid, however late that might be, she scooped some rice into a bowl and added a spoonful of the chicken cacciatore because the baby was hungry now—and desperately craving the cheesecake Reid was supposed to bring home for dessert.

  She was putting her empty bowl and fork into the dishwasher when her phone buzzed again.

  Anticipating an update from Reid, she immediately snatched it up, only to be disappointed when she saw the message from her answering service.

  *Urgent. Client wants to meet ASAP. 775-555-6728

  And Kate figured if Reid was working, she might as well be, too.

  * * *

  She was asleep on the sofa, the baseball game on the television now into extra innings, when Reid got home. The rich scents of tomato and basil lingered in the air—the remnants of dinner she’d cooked for their one-month anniversary.

  His wife.

  His brilliant and beautiful, sweet and sexy, amazing and pregnant wife.

  Damn, he’d lucked out when he’d signed up for that conference in Boulder City. At the time, he’d considered himself lucky just to get the invitation back to her room. He certainly hadn’t been thinking that there might be a wedding and a baby in his future. Truthfully, he probably would have run far and fast if anyone had told him that’s where he’d end up, so he was grateful he hadn’t known, because now he had everything he never knew he wanted.

  He picked up the remote and turned off the TV. Katelyn didn’t stir. He lifted her into his arms; she sighed and turned her face into his shoulder. She was almost halfway through her pregnancy now and grumbling about the eight pounds she’d put on. Not that the slight swell of her belly was obvious, but apparently her wardrobe options were shrinking as her waistline expanded.

  She was still the sexiest woman he’d ever known. And the changes her body was going through as a result of her pregnancy only made her more appealing.

  He loved making love with her. And afterward, he loved to cuddle with his hand on her belly. He loved taking her first cup of coffee—decaf—to her in the morning and exchanging brief text messages with her through the hours they were apart. And he especially loved going home at the end of the day to find her waiting for him.

  But did he love her?

  He wasn’t one to get hung up on words. In his opinion, there was far too much emphasis placed on that one particular phrase and too many people who threw it around frequently and easily.

  Truthfully, he didn’t know if he loved her, but he would do everything he could to make her happy—though she would claim that she was responsible for her own happiness; to take care of her—though she would insist she didn’t need anyone to take care of her; and to protect her—though she would argue that she could protect herself.

  Yeah, she could argue the opposite side of any issue, and that was just one more thing he loved about her.

  He pulled back the covers and laid her gently on top of the mattress, then quickly stripped out of his clothes and slid into bed beside her.

  And fell asleep with her in his arms.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Katelyn was still sleeping when Reid reluctantly slid out of bed in the morning.

  He would have liked to stay with her, but he’d agreed to meet Connor at the Sheriff’s Office at eight so they could head to the hospital in Battle Mountain. The young store clerk shot during the robbery at The Trading Post had been in critical condition when he was rushed into surgery the night before. Reid had been in the OR waiting room with the parents when the doctor informed them that the surgery had gone well. An early morning call to the hospital revealed that the victim’s condition had been downgraded to “serious but stable” and the sheriff was eager to get his statement.

  But first, he brewed Katelyn’s decaf coffee, as he did every morning, and carried the mug to the bedroom along with a plate bearing a thick slice of Sweet Caroline’s caramel fudge brownie cheesecake.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  She blinked against the harsh glare of the light when he hit the switch with his elbow, but she pushed herself up in bed and brushed back the hair that was falling into her face.

  Her eyes lit up when they zeroed in on his gifts. “You remembered the cheesecake.”

  He chuckled as he set the mug on the bedside table and relinquished the plate to her eager hands. “Of course, I remembered the cheesecake.” Then he leaned over to brush her lips with his. “Happy belated one-month anniversary.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stay awake until you got home last night.” She picked up the fork and dug into the dessert.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry I was late.”


  Of course, it wasn’t the first time and they both knew it wouldn’t be the last.

  “You missed really hot anniversary sex,” she said around a mouthful of cake.

  “I’m even sorrier about that.”

  “Well, we could have really hot morning-after-the-one-month-anniversary sex...after I finish my cheesecake,” she told him.

  “Words cannot express how tempted I am,” he assured her. “But I’m heading back out with Deputy Neal this morning to do some follow-up to our investigation.” He kissed her again. “Rain check?”

  “Absolutely,” she promised.

  * * *

  Kate didn’t complain about Reid having to work, even on a Sunday, because she had plenty to occupy her own time—not the least of which was putting together a defense for her newest client. And though it was just as easy to work on her laptop in the apartment, she generally preferred to work at work.

  So after she’d finished her coffee and her cheesecake—and how great was it to be married to a man who indulged her pregnancy cravings?—she showered and dressed and headed to her office.

  She only felt a little guilty about representing a suspect in the armed robbery that Reid was investigating. They’d both known before they got married that their careers would occasionally put them on opposite sides of the courtroom, and this was just another one of those times.

  She unlocked the office door, punched in the security code to disarm the alarm system, then locked the door again behind her and headed into her office.

  Beth always emptied the wastebaskets and put the garbage out before she left the office on Friday afternoons, so when Kate hit the light switch and realized there was something in the basket beside her desk, she was immediately uneasy. Moving closer, she saw what looked like a brown paper lunch bag—certainly nothing that would explain her growing trepidation. But the weight of the basket warned the bag wasn’t empty, and she used the tip of a pen to open it so she could peek inside.

  Then she put the wastebasket down again, picked up the phone and dialed the sheriff’s number.

  * * *

  Reid and Connor were leaving Battle Mountain when Katelyn called, so they stopped at her office before heading to their own. She’d hinted about something that might be relevant to their investigation, and though Reid couldn’t imagine what it might be, he knew she wouldn’t have interrupted him if it wasn’t important.