Buch lesen: «A Baby For The Sheriff»

Chapter One

The wine was poured. The fire burned bright in the hearth. Doctor Coco Grant, the town’s vet, had painted her toenails, donned extra makeup, chosen her most seductive underwear—the blush lace panties and bra she’d bought anticipating this moment—slipped into her sexiest black dress and even shaved her legs.

All of it done in preparation for her date with Russ Knightly, the potential new mayor of Briggs, Idaho, and one of the most sought-after eligible bachelors for a hundred miles. At thirty-three, he would be the youngest mayor of Briggs, and the one man in the entire county whom Coco had lusted over for the past five years while he dated several other women. One of them he’d even proposed to. Fortunately for Coco, that engagement didn’t last more than a few weeks.

Now it was Coco’s turn...the woman he was meant to be with, the woman he would love like no other, the woman for whom he was about to fulfill all her sexual fantasies in one hot night, and the woman she hoped would one day be referred to as Doctor Coco Knightly, the mayor’s wife. Her family, especially her brother, Carson, admired Russ. Carson had been sponsored by the Knightly Endowment for the Preservation of Western Culture when he had first started competing as a bronc rider in local rodeos.

Coco had been smitten ever since Russ, and a few other cowboys, rescued a small herd of wild horses trapped up in the Teton Mountains. Russ had risked his life to go up there and lead those animals out, under severe avalanche warnings for the area.

Ever since that moment, she thought Russ Knightly was a kindred spirit who loved and respected animals as much as she did. He was simply the bravest man alive, or at least the bravest man in Briggs, next to her brother and her dad, of course.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Russ said as he walked backward to her bedroom, pulling her along with one hand, the other caressing his glass of expensive scotch, a scotch that Coco had ordered online just for this occasion, a fifteen-year-old scotch she knew he would love.

“Me, too,” she told him as she eagerly followed him, aroused by the mere idea of what was about to happen in her once lonely bedroom.

She and Russ had been dating for almost two months, thanks to an official introduction by her brother, but because of her schedule and his mayoral campaign, they hadn’t found the time to take their relationship to the next level.

Tonight, they would break through all those levels with pure lust, pure sex and pure seduction. At twenty-nine, Coco hadn’t really experienced a lot of sex, especially not the kind that Russ Knightly was noted for. She’d been too busy with her studies, volunteering and dreaming about Russ to care much about dating other guys.

But all that was in her past now. Tonight the floodgates were open, and each time he touched her a fire ignited that she didn’t want to put out anytime soon.

Heck, Coco had even locked her little dog, Punky, a Yorkshire terrier, in the bathroom. For some reason she couldn’t understand, Punky didn’t seem to like Russ, and growled whenever he came close to Coco.

Well, there would be none of that tonight.

Tonight Coco and Russ would be so close they might need the Jaws of Life to pull them apart.

“I have plans for you, baby, plans for your body,” he muttered in a deep voice.

She loved it when he called her baby.

“What kind of plans?” she teased, loving how he made her feel all tingly.

“Dirty plans that will make you blush whenever you think about our first night.”

“I’m already blushing,” she demurely said. “And I have my own plans.”

That was a complete fabrication. The only plans she’d had that day were how to foal a breached horse and what kind of drugs she would administer to Helen Granger’s horse, Tater, for the infection in his right front femur.

Russ stopped, pulled her in tight and kissed her. Although Coco’s mind sometimes drifted whenever they kissed, she felt certain once they were in bed together her focus would laser in on the task at hand—not that making love to Russ was a task. What she meant was, once they were in bed together, nothing else would matter and she’d be able to surrender to the moment.

Of course it would be that way, she told herself. He was the man she wanted to be with forever. The man she’d dreamed about, longed for and pictured as the father of her children.

Russ Knightly was her man, her guy, her Mr. Right.

As he pulled her in tighter and she felt the bulge of his manhood press against her body, her heart raced, and suddenly all she could think of was how this was finally going to happen. She was going to make love with her dream man. Life couldn’t get any better if it had been scripted.

Until the doorbell rang for her animal clinic downstairs. She’d only recently, in the last eight months, finished construction on the two-thousand-foot expansion. She’d had proper ventilation installed, added to the reception area and incorporated two large pens for the livestock she inevitably took in. She’d been thinking of hiring another doctor to help out, but so far, she hadn’t made the time to begin the search...a fact she now found herself regretting.

Russ kept his lips pressed to hers as if he hadn’t heard it.

“I...I, um, I should get that,” she mumbled while his lips stuck to hers.

“Not tonight. Whoever it is will go away.”

The bell rang again.

“Or not,” she said, trying to disengage from him. It felt as though his lips were glued to hers and she couldn’t unstick them.

“I...really...need...to...get...that.”

He finally stepped back and Coco swore their lips popped apart. “You’re not seriously going to leave me here like this while you answer the door.”

He nodded down toward the bulge in his pants, which for some odd reason was no longer doing it for her. Not when she knew someone’s animal could be in crisis.

“I’m sorry,” she said, slipping out from his embrace, “but as much as I would like to, I can’t ignore the bell. It wouldn’t be right. If someone’s trudged through all that snow and cold, I have no choice but to at least answer the door.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock at night. Nobody just brings over their sick animal at this time of night without calling first.”

“All the more reason why I need to get that. It’s probably an emergency.”

Coco ran a hand through her hair, placed her wineglass on the table and turned to dash down the stairs to answer the door.

The bell rang again.

“Persistent, aren’t they?” he said, sounding resentful.

She turned back to him. “I’ll only be a minute. I’m sure it’s something minor and I’ll be able to fix it in no time.”

But Coco wasn’t so sure. Usually whenever her doorbell rang this late, someone was leaving behind an unwanted or sick pet they could no longer care for. She flipped on the light switch in the stairwell and through the glass on the top half of the door caught the shadow of a woman wearing a puffy coat and hood as she walked away.

“Oh, shoot,” she said aloud, knowing full well it was a drop-off. She already had a piglet named Jimmy, two baby goats, one puppy, two persnickety calico kittens, an adult tortoise named Tortie and two temperamental baby llamas taking shelter in her clinic. She’d find homes for all of them eventually, but at the moment, the farm animals were illegal within city limits, and if Sheriff Jet Wilson—who did everything by the book—learned about them, he’d issue her another fine on top of the last two she couldn’t afford to pay. She’d spent all her savings on the expansion.

When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed the gray sweater that hung on a hook next to the door and slipped it on. Whatever was waiting for her on the other side of that door was more than likely going to require her standing out in the cold for a minute or two before she could wrangle it inside.

Good thing she still wore her shoes, albeit three-inch heels, but shoes nonetheless.

“Okay, what do we have this time?” she asked as she swung open the door expecting another goat or llama or...

* * *

SHERIFF JET WILSON fought his way back to the jail. The official white SUV, with the Briggs Sheriff’s Department logo emblazoned on the two front doors, was fishtailing at almost every turn. The snow was piling up fast now, and driving was nearing impossible. Benny Snoots, the town’s one and only official snowplow driver, worked as fast as he could, but the snow was just too much for him.

Russ Knightly, a man Jet Wilson didn’t much like, promised two more snowplows if he was elected mayor, and on a night like this, Jet considered giving him his vote...or not.

If, on the other hand, Mayor Sally Hickman won again, Jet would make sure at least one more snowplow was on her agenda, and if it wasn’t, he promised himself he’d take up the cause himself and add plowing capability to the front of the SUV.

When he finally pulled up in front of the small jailhouse, he parked curbside and got out. His very first step encased his cowboy boots in so much snow that it slipped inside his boots and made a mess of his nice warm woolen socks. He grabbed the bags of food that he’d picked up at Sammy’s Smokehouse off the back seat, slammed the doors shut and headed for the front of the jail. None of the townsfolk knew he was living at the jail these days and no one needed to know.

A water pipe had burst in his apartment earlier that week, and until his landlord could get it fixed and repair the damage to the floor and the wall, Jet didn’t have anywhere else to go...at least nowhere he could afford. All the rooms in this town were too pricey for him and, well, he didn’t want to impose on what few friends he had.

Being relatively new to Briggs, having lived there for less than two years, making friends had been tough. Especially since he’d ticked off Russ Knightly, who seemed to be a big deal in town, next to Carson Grant, the town’s one and only rodeo hero. Jet admired Carson, and had met him a few times, but Russ was another story entirely. He hadn’t meant to make him mad, but the guy had been doing seventy-five in a fifty-five-mile zone, had a taillight out and was missing his front license plate when Jet had pulled him over. Idaho required two license plates, no matter what kind of vehicle you drove, and besides, the guy had way too much attitude for Jet’s liking.

Little had Jet known that Russ seemed to pull all the important strings in town, and in the state, for that matter, and when you were merely a small-town sheriff, those strings could get pretty tight.

In the end, his violations had somehow been dismissed, and Jet had ended up the bad guy.

Of course, at the moment, Jet didn’t give a hoot. The jail suited him just fine, thank you very much. The bed in the cell was comfortable enough, and rarely used, so he thought he’d break it in for a few days.

He swung open the heavy front door, hit the light switch, slipped out of his bulky parka and cowboy hat, tugged off his boots and his wet socks, sat down at his desk inside his small office and tore open the bags of delicious-smelling barbecue. His mouth instantly watered in anticipation. He hadn’t eaten all day, and his stomach had started aching about three hours ago from lack of food. The pungent smells filled the room as Jet cracked open a can of beer and took a long pull.

He was in for the night, and it felt good to finally be free of all responsibilities. He took a big bite of one of the beef ribs, ripping the meat off the bone with his teeth, groaned his delight and walked over to put his wet socks on the old radiator under the bank of windows so they could dry. All the blinds were closed, so no one could see him, not that there was anyone out there looking on a night like this. Still it gave him comfort to be hidden from view for a while. He walked back to the desk, took another big bite and was just about to sit down and settle in when the phone rang...his phone, in his pocket. The phone that he kept private, and only a handful of people had the number.

That phone rang.

The jailhouse phone had an all-night service for any emergency calls, but that wasn’t ringing.

He felt the sigh that seemed to come up from his bare feet before he heard it expel from his throat as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.

Doctor Coco Grant’s name lit up the black screen along with the picture he’d taken of her in front of her illegal goat pen inside her clinic.

Part of him didn’t want to answer, but he knew if she was calling this late at night, it must be important.

Frankly, he didn’t want to hear about “important” right now, not in the middle of what had to be the best barbecue ribs Sammy had ever created.

He chewed and swallowed.

“Hello,” he reluctantly said into his phone.

“Hi, Sheriff. Sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve got a situation over here that requires your attention.”

He glanced up at the large clock above the front door knowing perfectly well that whatever it was that required his attention would take him at least another hour or more and it was already going on ten thirty.

“Can I give it my attention over the phone? It’s pretty nasty out there tonight, and it’s late. Besides, if someone left you another goat or any other farm animal, there’s nothing either one of us can do about it tonight.”

“It’s not a goat, Sheriff. It’s a baby.”

As he took another bite of a rib, sauce dripped down his fingers and landed on his shirt and lap—bright red sauce that stained everything it touched. He cursed under his breath as he tried to wipe it up.

“You don’t have to get nasty about it,” she said in his ear.

“No. I wasn’t talking to you. It’s just that... Look, let’s call a truce for tonight. I don’t care what kind of illegal baby critter someone left you. We can deal with it another time, just not right now.”

“If you don’t want to do your job, fine, but you should know it’s not a critter of any kind this time. It’s a baby, as in a human baby. A little girl named Lily. She’s about two weeks old from what I can tell and in desperate need of a diaper change, which I think I can do with an old T-shirt. But some real diapers would be nice. And some formula, and a new outfit, cause she soiled this one and wrapping her in something of mine isn’t a real option.”

He didn’t know what to say or how to respond. He’d never dealt with an abandoned baby before. He’d have to read up on it, or at the very least call someone over in Boise to give him a quick rundown of protocol.

“Hello. Hello. Hello. Are you there?” she said, sounding agitated.

He finally took a breath. “Did you say a baby girl?”

“Yes. An infant, and from what I can tell, the only note we have is written on the back of a restaurant receipt from Sammy’s Smokehouse with Lily’s name on it and nothing else.”

He stood, raking a hand through his hair while trying to gather his thoughts. Then he said, “I’ll be right over.”

* * *

“WHY IS SHE crying so much?” Russ asked for the umpteenth time as he awkwardly held baby Lily by her head and butt, flying her back and forth like he was getting ready to propel her through the air. “Is she sick? Maybe she’s got something really wrong with her?”

“Or maybe it’s the way you’re holding her. Haven’t you held a baby before?”

Coco walked over and took Lily, carefully folding the baby into her arms. At once, Lily calmed down as Coco gently spoke to her and naturally bounced with each step, trying to soothe the fretful child.

“There has to be something wrong with her. She smells horrible. I don’t want to get too close, what with all the events I have coming up in the next week. I can’t afford to be sick.”

He was right about the events, at least five that she knew of, and three of them she would be attending alongside him.

So no, he couldn’t get sick, but she really didn’t think that baby Lily had anything physically wrong with her other than needing a diaper change and maybe a bottle.

Coco knew how to treat and care for animals, but what she knew about babies couldn’t fill one page. She was going on instinct here, and what she’d seen her sisters do. Sure, she’d held their babies, but she’d never changed a diaper nor had she ever had to soothe the little darlings or feed them. She’d successfully avoided all of that...up until now.

“She’s a baby. Babies poop and pee. It’s not her fault she smells. She just needs her diaper changed.”

“Can you do that?” His forehead furrowed as if the mere thought of changing a diaper made him nauseous.

“I could if I had a diaper or even an old T-shirt or a dishcloth, but I don’t think I own any safety pins. We’ll just have to bear it until the sheriff gets here with supplies.”

“Well, you can at least strip her down and clean her up, then maybe wrap her in a clean blanket.”

From the tortured look on Russ’s face, Coco thought she should do just that, or what was left of her date night might end right now.

“Okay. Let me see what I can put together,” she reassured him. “Not that I wanted to call him in the first place—we could have simply called Child Welfare or the hospital or anyone other than Sheriff Wilson...even his deputy would have been better. There’s no telling what that man might do with a baby.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll do what he’s been trained to do with an abandoned baby...whatever that is.”

“You know how that man is with the animals that get left on my doorstep. I’m still paying the fines for keeping some of them longer than the city will allow. If it were up to him, he’d turn them all over to the animal shelter in Idaho Falls, where they’d be put down if no one claimed them in seventy-two hours, sooner if they’re overcrowded. The man has no heart.”

“He’s just doing his job, as I’m sure he will with Billy.”

“Her name is Lily. Why can’t you remember that?”

“I don’t know. Does it really matter? She can’t understand me.”

Lily let out a blood-curdling wail.

“I actually think she can. Or at least she doesn’t like the tone of your voice.”

Coco pulled the baby in tighter.

“Okay. Okay,” he whispered. “Is this better?”

Coco bounced Lily and she quieted down. The little darling seemed to like motion, so Coco kept it going.

“Yes, thank you.”

Coco walked to her bedroom with Lily fussing on Coco’s shoulder, but she seemed to want to calm herself. She squeaked and cooed instead of wailing, a definite improvement. Once inside her bedroom, Coco contemplated putting Lily down on her bed, the bed she’d bought new silky sheets for, and sprayed with perfume, and surrounded with candlelight. The bed she and Russ would make love on until her body ached and she cried out for more.

The bedroom that had been set up for sin.

That bedroom where she now flipped the switch for the overhead light and blew out the candles...at least for now.

She carefully laid squirming baby Lily down on the scented bed while trying to soothe her with soft-spoken words, which weren’t working. She walked to her bathroom and prepared a couple warm washcloths and then brought along a couple fluffy clean towels—new towels that she’d also picked up for the shower she and Russ would take together after hours of making love.

So much for all her sexy plans.

Of course, the night was still relatively young. Anything could happen.

Placing one towel under Lily and keeping one handy to wrap her in, Coco began to undress the little sweetheart, who had stopped fussing when Coco started singing the first song that came into her head, “Happy Birthday.”

“I’d offer to help,” Russ said, coming up behind her, “but I’m horrible with kids, especially babies. Plus, I don’t know the first thing about changing a diaper.”

“And you think I do?” Coco said as she gently wiped off Lily’s soiled bottom. Russ made a few disgusted grunts and turned away.

Coco knew enough from birthing livestock to keep hold of Lily’s arms while she cleaned her. Newborns of any kind liked to be touched and held whenever something else was happening to them. This one little action seemed to soothe her, exactly like it soothed a foal.

“You’re a woman,” Russ announced as if that fact had any relevance in this situation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s in your DNA. Besides, you deal with babies all the time.”

“There’s a big difference between a puppy or a foal and a little baby girl, an abandoned baby girl. Poor sweetheart doesn’t know what to think...do you, sweet Lily?”

Lily made a couple complaints, but then settled when Coco began singing “Happy Birthday” again.

“Where’s that sheriff? He should’ve been here by now.” Russ walked up behind Coco and ran his hands down her body. Normally a great sensation, and a real turn-on, but not while Coco was trying to clean up baby poop. “We need to pick up where we left off.”

She moved away from him, leaning in closer to Lily, who was now nice and clean and smelling of new baby, a delightful scent if there ever was one.

“I don’t know if that’s possible tonight, Russ. The mood has sort of been broken.”

Coco swaddled Lily as best she could inside the soft white towel, then picked her up, cradling her tight against her chest, her little rosebud mouth suckling the air.

“Not really. I know how we can get it back again.”

“How?”

He leaned in and kissed her with one of those sinful kisses that might have brought her to her knees...if it wasn’t for the warm trickle of liquid that now ran down between her breasts.

* * *

SHERIFF WILSON WASN’T about to drive over to Dr. Grant’s clinic without all the supplies she’d asked for, and then some. He’d taken care of enough babies in his life to know exactly what she needed. Plus, he knew enough about the system to know that the chances of his being able to drop off a baby with the appropriate authorities at this time of night, with all this snow, were slim to none. After he’d changed out of his uniform into more casual wear, he’d made a few phone calls, and the only words of encouragement he’d gotten were keep her warm.

Driving down Main Street was proving to be a challenge, despite his being the only actual vehicle on the road. Even Travis Granger, who maneuvered his red sleigh and Clydesdales, picking up any stranded pedestrians, was having a time of it. The two men nodded to each other as they passed, silently acknowledging that Briggs was in for it tonight.

By the time Sheriff Wilson tried to pull his SUV curbside on Main Street, then trudge up to the glass front door of Whipple’s One Stop and push on the bell that rang inside the Whipple apartment upstairs, he felt the tension intensify in his neck and shoulders. Jet braced himself for what was sure to be the third degree from Cindy Whipple, proprietor and one of the biggest town gossips. Not only was she a gossip, but she had town radar and could usually figure out what someone was trying desperately to hide. She had the uncanny ability to guess exactly what was going on before anyone could tell her the truth.

A sweet woman with a heart of gold, but she couldn’t keep a secret if God came down and asked her personally.

Within moments, a soft light came on inside the store, illuminating the frozen-food section located in the back. Jet and Cindy locked eyes for a moment before she disappeared behind the produce shelves.

When the glass door finally swung open, bells chiming overhead, Cindy Whipple greeted him wearing a fuzzy red robe and matching slippers. Her short white hair stuck out in strange angles, as if she’d just come out of a windstorm, and her horn-rimmed glasses were askew on her wizened face. But her lips were perfectly smeared with red lipstick. Ms. Whipple never went out in public without her bright red lipstick in place. And, apparently, that went for answering the door late at night.

“Sheriff Wilson! What in blazes are you doing out here so late? Did somebody die? Is there a big accident somewhere and you need medical supplies? Because I can give you a deal you won’t believe.”

“No, nothing like that, but is it possible that you could open your store for me? I know it’s late, ma’am, but I would really appreciate getting a few things.”

“I take it this is some kind of emergency, or you wouldn’t be standing here. Are you going to tell me what happened or is it a secret?”

He decided to play along. “Yes, it’s a secret, and I can’t tell anyone about it. Not even you.”

“Me? I’m Fort Knox,” she said with a chuckle.

If only that were true.

“Good, because I’m depending on you not to ask me any questions. I promised I wouldn’t say a word.”

“Absolutely. Not one question. Not a word. My lips are sealed.” She slipped two fingers across her pursed lips, as if she was zipping them up. “Now, what do you need?”