The Lawman's Baby. Patricia Johns
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stubborn than that.”
She could see it now—the cocky cop, the determination, the attitude... Now this officer was here in quiet little Eagle’s Rest with a newborn. He was going to hate this.
“You don’t plan to stay, do you?” she asked.
“Only as long as I have to, honestly,” he replied. “I know what I want. I know where I can contribute the most. And it isn’t here.”
Paige handed him the bottle. “Benjie’s going to be hungry pretty soon.”
The baby wriggled and opened his mouth like a little bird as if on cue. Mike’s confidence seemed to evaporate and he looked from the bottle to the baby and over to her with an expression of misgiving.
“How do I do this?” he asked.
“Here—” She took the bottle back. “Just tip him onto his back in the crook of your arm.”
Mike took a moment to get the baby into the right position, then she handed him the bottle again.
“Test it against your wrist,” she said. “There are a lot of nerve endings there. The milk should feel warm but not hot.”
Mike tapped the nipple against his wrist, nodded, then held it over the baby’s face. A drip of milk splattered across the infant’s forehead, and Benjie let out a squawk of annoyance. Paige chuckled, then stepped closer, put her hand over Mike’s broad one and guided the bottle to Benjie’s searching mouth. The baby latched on and started to suck.
“There you go,” she murmured.
Paige was standing close, and when she looked up at him, she found his steely gaze locked on her. He smelled good—the wrong thing to be noticing right now.
“Thanks,” Mike said.
“Sure.” She shot him a brief smile, and his gaze moved back to the baby. He probably had no idea what that stare of his did to a woman. He was just so...male. It had been a while since she’d noticed a man in this way.
The bottle was dwarfed in Mike’s big hand as the baby drank, the milk in the bottle steadily disappearing.
“So, you’ve figured me out,” Mike said quietly. “What about you? How come you want to quit? You have that trouble with authority, too?”
“No, not me. I just...lost my faith in being able to make a difference.”
His eyes flickered up toward her again. “One case in particular?”
“It was a dad with two young children,” she said after a beat of silence. “He struggled with alcoholism and was doing well for a while, but then slid back down into it. I came by to check on the family and found the kids alone in the trailer. It was a mess. No food in the fridge, just a TV blaring to keep them company. I had to call in Children’s Services, and they were taken away.”
“Sounds like it was the only call you could make,” he replied.
“It was.”
“So what was the problem?”
“The dad came by my office a week later, sober again. He sat down and sobbed. His heart was just breaking. He said he loved his kids. This was the kick in the pants that he needed. He’d never drink a drop again.”
Mike was silent, watching her, and the memory came back with the force of a load of bricks. That heartbreaking sob torn from the chest of a broken man. The way he’d pleaded with her, begged for another chance. She couldn’t give it. She knew she’d made the right call...but somehow, that man’s desperation had sunk past all her defenses.
“I had his kids taken away,” she said, bracing herself against the memory. “And while I know I had to, I broke three hearts that day.”
“It was the right call,” he said.
“I felt it too deeply, though,” she said. “I didn’t have that professional glass between me and that man’s pain. I used to have it...”
“You don’t think you’ll get it back?” he asked.
“I don’t think I want it back,” she replied. “That’s my problem! When I think about getting professional reserve back, being able to protect my heart from other people’s pain... It’s kind of depressing. Maybe I don’t want to be tough again. Maybe I just want to be normal.”
“What’s normal?” he said with a short laugh.
He meant it as a rhetorical question, but Paige had a very good idea of what normal looked like.
“I want a regular life,” she said. “I want a job that doesn’t break my heart. I want a white picket fence and a view of the mountains. And that’s it. I want hobbies, and friends and work stories about Karen from Accounting.”
“You want to be a civilian again,” he said quietly.
“I really do.”
“No one likes Karen from Accounting,” he added, his expression deadpan, but she could hear the humor in his voice. “She’s awful. You might want to consider that.”
Paige chuckled. “I want regular, civilian annoyances. Including Karen. At least she doesn’t break my heart.”
“I suppose.”
“Don’t you see the appeal of that?” she asked, meeting his gaze. “I mean, after all you’ve seen...don’t you ever look at a regular Joe and think how lucky he is?”
“Nah,” Mike replied as the baby drained the last drop from the bottle. He pulled the nipple out of Benjie’s mouth with a pop. “I’d rather know the worst.”
“Really?” She eyed him for a moment.
“I missed out on what was really going on with my sister,” he said. “I just wanted to focus on my own stuff back then. I was only seventeen, after all. Same as her boyfriend. I liked cars and girls. But if I’d opened my eyes and actually recognized what was happening with my little sister, I might have been able to help her. So, no. I don’t want to shut my eyes to it again. I want to chase it down and toss it behind bars. I want to find out who’s to blame and make them pay. That’s how I feel better.”
She nodded. Sure. Faced with the tough stuff, he wanted to beat it up. But when she faced the same tough realities, she was left a heartbroken mess. He belonged out there in the middle of it all. She just didn’t think that she did.
The baby started to squirm, and Paige grabbed a dish towel and tossed it over Mike’s shoulder. “Time to burp.”
He took a moment to awkwardly reposition the baby up on his shoulder.
“Just rub some gentle circles on his back,” Paige instructed, and Mike did as she told him with the tips of two fingers. Benjie squirmed and lifted his head, then dropped it back onto Mike’s shoulder.
“Is he okay?” Mike asked, turning his head to look at the baby.
“He’s working up a burp,” she said.
“He doesn’t like this towel,” Mike said, and he pulled it out from under the baby. “Do you, buddy?”
“You might not want to—” Paige began, when Benjie came up with a resounding, wet burp. The dribble of milk ran down Mike’s uniform, and the baby stopped squirming, settling down into comfort. Mike looked from the towel to the baby, then over at Paige.
“That’s why we use a cloth,” she said with a small smile. “Live and learn.”
She picked up the towel again and came over to wipe up what she could. Mike’s breath brushed the top of her head as she wiped, the heat from his chest emanating against her. He felt comforting, and she knew that had very little to do with who he was and very much to do with her current state of mind. She was feeling vulnerable, and a big, strong guy was comforting on a DNA level. Who didn’t want