The Lawman's Convenient Bride. Christine Rimmer

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The Lawman's Convenient Bride - Christine  Rimmer


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resisted. “No. No, I’m all right.”

      “Humor me?” she coaxed.

      Slowly, he sank into the chair. She let go of his arm—and he grabbed her hand. “Look. Honestly. I don’t know what my problem is. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you...”

      “It’s okay,” she soothed.

      “I apologize. I didn’t know you were having Nicky’s baby. I really didn’t know.”

      “It’s okay...”

      He blinked and frowned up at her. “You keep saying that.”

      “Because I have this feeling that you’re not hearing me.”

      He kept hold of her fingers with one hand and scrubbed the other one down his face. “I heard you.”

      Gently, she pulled free of his grip. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

      * * *

      Seth did what she asked of him. He sat there in that spindly chair until she returned with a bottled water. “Here you go. Drink.” She pressed it into his hand.

      He stared up at her, at her worried eyes and her serious mouth. “I’m not usually such a jackass.”

      Her mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile she didn’t quite let happen. “I really do understand. I’m sure it’s a shock.”

      “I...”

      She tapped the sweating water bottle. “It’s nice and cold. Drink.”

      It wasn’t a bad suggestion, especially given that his mouth felt like he’d just swallowed a bucket of sand. So he unscrewed the lid and put the bottle to his lips. He drank it down in one go.

      “Better?” she asked.

      “Yeah. Thanks—and I am sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

      “You’re forgiven.” She spoke softly. Her eyes were kind now.

      He had a thousand questions to ask her. He hardly knew where to start. But what he did know was that he would be a part of Nick’s baby’s life. “I want to help. Any way I can.”

      “Well, thank you...” The words were right. Her expression wasn’t. She bit the corner of her lip and fell back a step.

      He wanted to grab her arm and pull her in close again. “What’s wrong with my wanting to help?”

      “Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s very kind of you, and I appreciate the offer. Right now, though, there’s nothing to help me with. I’m all set.”

      “Set? How’s that?”

      “Honestly, there’s nothing more to do at this point. I’ve got everything handled. I have excellent insurance and I’m getting great prenatal care. I’m watching my diet, taking my vitamins. The baby and I are both in good health. The baby’s room is ready. My sisters are all three helping out, planning to be with me through labor and delivery. I have full-time backup here at the store for those first weeks after the birth. My due date is a month and a half away, and I’m all ready to go.”

      “Well, great,” he replied, though to him it was anything but. He needed to help her, and how could he do that if she had everything under control?

      She added too brightly, “But I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as she’s born.”

      “It’s a she?” he parroted blankly, remembering that Monique had said the baby would be a girl.

      “Yes.” Jody did manage a smile then. “Her name is Marybeth.”

      Marybeth. Nicky’s little girl will be named Marybeth. “I still want to help.”

      “And you can.”

      “Tell me what to do.”

      A nervous laugh escaped her. “As I said, I can’t think of anything right now, but you never know...” The way she was looking at him? Not good. Like she wished he would leave, and the sooner the better.

      And he couldn’t blame her for wanting him gone. He’d jumped down her throat, done a first-class imitation of an overbearing ass, when he should have been gentle and coaxing and kind.

      He really ought to go. He should retreat and regroup—and do a better job of acting like a civilized human being the next time he talked to her.

      So all right. Next time would be better. He bent to set the water bottle on the floor, lifted the flap on his right breast pocket and pulled out one of the business cards the county provided for him. “Got a pen?”

      “Uh. Sure.” She zipped over to the counter with the register on it and came back with a Bic.

      He took it and jotted his private numbers on the back of the card. “Call me at the justice center anytime, for anything. And you can reach my cell and the phone at the ranch with the numbers on the back.”

      “I... Great. Thanks.” She accepted the card and the return of her pen and looked down at him expectantly, waiting for him to get up and get out.

      And he would. Soon. But first there were things he had to tell her, stuff she needed to know. “After we lost Nicky, I moved to the ranch.”

      “Ah. That’s right. You used to live in...?”

      “Prideville.” The former county seat was a forty-mile drive from Justice Creek. “With the justice center here now, I wanted to be nearby anyway. And my dad retired to Florida a few years back. We’ve got a great couple, Mae and Roman Califano, out at the Bar-Y. They’re good people. And they can run the place with their hands tied behind their backs. But I think it’s important to have someone in the family living there.”

      “Yes. Yes, I can see that.”

      “You know how to get to the Bar-Y, right? You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

      “Yes. I have, a few times, actually—last fall, after Nick and I became friends. And I’ve met the Califanos, too. I liked them.”

      He tried not to stare at her belly. He had a yen to touch it, to see if the baby might give a little kick, provide him with tangible proof that Nicky’s child lived.

      But he knew he’d blown his chances for any belly-feeling today. “Just in case, I can jot down the address for you...”

      “No. Really, I know how to get to the Bar-Y—I mean, if I need to get there.” Her gaze shifted toward the door and then right back to him, as though she could hustle him out with the flick of a glance. He took another card from his pocket and held it out to her.

      He watched a dimple tucking itself in at the corner of her mouth. “Seth.” She held up the first card. “I already have one.”

      “Jody, I would really appreciate having your numbers, too.” He said it hopefully, pouring on the sincerity, though as sheriff, he would have no trouble getting his hands on just about anything he needed to know about her. But it was better if she volunteered her contact information. That way when he called, it would be because she’d given him tacit permission to do so.

      “Oh. Well, sure.” She accepted the card, scribbled on the back of it and returned it to him.

      “Great.” He stuck the card back in his pocket. And then, reluctantly, he stood.

      She flew to the door, turned the lock and pulled it open. “Thanks, Seth. I’m...glad you came by.”

      No, she wasn’t. But it was nice of her to say so. “Call me. I mean it. Anytime.”

      “Yes. All right. I will.”

      He didn’t believe her. But that was okay. If she didn’t get in touch with him, he would be contacting her.

      He was helping out whether she wanted him to or not.

      * *


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