Babies and Badges Page 3

  Now, relationships with babies on the other hand…

  “She sure smells good,” Noah said, nuzzling the baby’s downy soft hair. “How ’bout giving her a flower name? Petunia or Hydrangea?”

  Cassie made a face. “Still not quite right.”

  He shifted the infant from where she’d rested her tiny head against his chest to cradle her in his arms. Putting the tip of his long index finger to her nose, he said, “You gave me one heck of a scare, young lady.”

  “Me, too,” Cassie said, queasy at just the memory of how dicey her second child’s birth had been.

  “Now, I look at you,” Noah said to the tiny infant, “and all I see is hope. Hope for a very bright future filled with giggles and sunshine and water balloon fights and puppies and—”

  “Hope,” Cassie said. “That’s it.”

  “What?”

  “Her name. I’ll call her Hope.”

  “Wait a minute, don’t I get a say in this? After all, I was the one who ushered her into this world.”

  “True. So, if you don’t like that, then what do you suggest?”

  “There’s always Joelle.”

  “Noah!”

  “Don’t get your diaper in a wad,” he said, his wide smile aimed straight for her heart. “I was just razzing you. Hope sounds perfect.”

  Perfect… Cassie thought with a secret smile.

  Just like my new friend, Noah, who not only gave both of my daughters their lives, but names.

  “PSST. ARE YOU AWAKE?”

  Cassie cracked open one eye to see a model-perfect, blue-eyed brunette staring at her—a very pregnant perfect brunette. When Cassie opened both eyes, the woman held out her hand for her to shake.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “You are awake. I’m Tiffany. Number Three in Noah’s Lonely Hearts Support Group, formed way back in the early nineties. When Noah’s ex-wife, Darla, decided marriage bored her, Noah decided he felt the same. Since then, we’ve grown considerably. The woman we all thought he’d marry, Kelsey, is Number Seventeen. He’s dated casually after her—no one significant enough for a number, but you, my dear, show promise, and as such, we’ve already assigned you Number Eighteen. Since I’m on maternity leave from Olivetti’s—that’s River-dale’s best dress shop if you happen to need anything while you’re in town—I’ve been nominated by the group to welcome you.”

  Cassie’s look must have been blank, because unfortunately the woman continued while her crisp, outdoorsy perfume filled the room.

  “No need to look shocked,” she said, “like your babies have been bugged or anything. We have inside sources all over town. At the hospital, Noah dated Nurse Helen—she’s Number Eleven amongst his victims.”

  “His victims?”

  “Yeah, you know, his Victims in Love—or VILs as we affectionately call ’em. Here,” Tiffany said, reaching into a quilted blue toile purse to pull out a gold foil box. “The girls and I bought you a combination Congratulations on Your Babies/Welcome to the Group gift. I know this must seem a bit premature, offering you membership when you and Noah have only just met, but after what happened at Kelsey’s wedding, we figure Noah’s gotta be on the verge of a total meltdown. Now, the women around here are equipped to handle his many bad boy charms, but we figure you being a city girl, may need a few pointers to come out of this on the right side of sanity.”

  “Um, thank you,” Cassie said, taking the box of Godiva chocolates. “I think.”

  “Oh dear,” Tiffany said with a pretty frown.

  “What?” The severity of her tone tempted Cassie to check herself for broken bones.

  “Your expression—sour as a lemon drop. You’re not already hooked on Noah, are you?”

  “I don’t think so. I barely know the man.”

  Sagely nodding, Tiffany said, “That’s what we all said. Every last one of us believed we’d be the ones to finally hog-tie him, but he’s wily when it comes to commitment. Darla hurt him bad, and I’m warning you, you so much as breathe the word and he’ll bolt. It’s our belief that Kelsey had him so long because we’d precounseled her on this fact. Since she already had that heads-up, she knew better than to ever even ask about taking their relationship to that magical, mystical place we group members call marriage. But then she just had to go and give him that ultimatum, and bam—faster than that tornado we had back in 1998, he was gone.”

  Interesting…

  The supposedly heartbroken woman’s perfectly manicured red nails were attached to long, tanned fingers sporting an array of not-too-shabby rings. One in particular on her left hand was at least a two-carat square-cut diamond solitaire with matching bejeweled wedding band.

  Mind you, Cassie was no expert, but those looked like some serious love baubles to her! This in mind, she blurted, “But you’re married now, aren’t you?”

  “Mm-hmm…” A look of utter bliss drifted over Tiffany’s classically beautiful features as she patted her bulging tummy through her cornflower-blue linen dress. “Noah’s ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech really did a number on my self-esteem. I thought we’d been in love, when all along it turns out I was the only participant in the love part of our relationship—if you could even call it that. Anyway, Denton Harwood, school math club president and heir to the First National Bank of Riverdale, took pity on me and we’ve been together ever since.”

  “Congratulations,” Cassie said, fighting back a smile. Was this woman and all seventeen of her friends nuts?

  “Thank you. I’ve never been happier, which is why I’m giving you a friendly warning to be careful.”

  “Oh, I will,” Cassie said, more to get this nutcase out of her room than because of any fears she had of Noah breaking her heart.

  In the first place, after what Tom had done to her, she no longer had a heart when it came to men. And in the second, no matter how handsome he was, or kind and considerate, Noah was only her friend. Period.

  “Good,” Tiffany said, patting Cassie’s leg through two layers of cotton blankets. “Deep down, Noah’s a great guy, but he has definite commitment issues. With you just having had twins and all, we would hate to see you caught off guard when you become his eighteenth VIL.”

  When Tiffany and her perfume had safely left the room, Cassie rolled her eyes.

  The woman might think she knew Noah, but obviously she didn’t. Because if there was one thing Cassie had learned during her brief stay in Riverdale, it was the fact that Sheriff Noah Wheeler was as committed as men come!

  “DON’T YOU EVER go to work?”

  Late that afternoon, Noah glanced up from the bass fishing magazine he’d been reading in Cassie’s guest chair—the one he’d once again had to move from its usual spot by the window to the head of her bed where he could keep a closer eye on her. “You’re awake.”

  “And you’re still here.” Her sleepy grin took the sting out of her words.

  “That a problem?” he asked, chest tight with pride—not to mention relief—over the fact that his patient looked healthier by the hour.

  “No…” She looked down, pinch-pleating the white sheet. “It’s just that we hardly know each other, yet you’ve moved in. I’ve gotten used to being on my own.”

  “That my cue to beat it?” Damn if that sleep-sexy grin of hers wasn’t already revving his engine.

  She laughed. “Not at all. You’ve been a godsend in so many ways, but the nurse said we’ll probably be going home tomorrow, so I figure you’ll be glad to get back to your normal schedule.”

  “I suppose. But it’s not like police work in these parts is all that exciting. I get more of a rush out of helping someone with a flat tire than writing tickets.”

  “Sure. You would.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “That you’re a nice guy.”

  Noah frowned.

  When it came to women, nice guys always finished last. His busted relationship with Kelsey proved it!

  Still, since he wasn’t even remotely attracted to Cass, h
e supposed in her case friendship was a good thing. A safe thing. “So,” he said, “when do you think they’ll spring you? I’ll need to pick up car seats and fasten them into my truck.”

  “Why?”

  Leaning forward, he said, “Well, it’s a sure bet the four of us aren’t going to fit in your car—not to mention the fact that no matter how healthy you look, it’s a long trip to Little Rock. You’re still on the mend. No way you should be driving.”

  “Um—” she drew in her lower lip “—not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but early this morning I contacted a limo service in Fayetteville. They’ll arrive tomorrow at noon. They’ll also handle the transport of my car.”

  “Oh.” Like a deflated balloon, he sagged against the chair. So, she’d hired a limo? Big deal. What did he care? This was a good thing, right?

  Ha!

  Then how come he felt like he’d just gotten dumped?

  Gaze all wide-eyed and innocent, she said, “You look upset.”

  He shook his head.

  “Noah? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Her gentle tone ripped right through him.

  “You wanna know what’s wrong, Cass? I’ll tell you. It’s customary for the father to drive his kids home—not some hired limo service.”

  “But you’re not Noelle and Hope’s father.”

  He hardened his jaw.

  “You seem surprised, as if this is news to you.”

  “Look,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. “You and those girls very nearly died out on that highway. Once I happened upon you, and saw what kind of trouble you were in, you—all of you—became my responsibility. A responsibility I don’t take lightly.”

  She reached for his hand, and gave him a surprisingly strong squeeze. “Never will you know the depth of my gratitude. Never will I be able to repay you for helping me like you did. And I suppose that kind of intensity breeds a strange kind of instant intimacy, but the crisis is over, Noah. I’m fine. The girls are fine. And tomorrow we’re going home.”

  “I’m glad. Truly I am. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. You know, complete the circle where you’re concerned.”

  When she released his hand to tuck luxurious red waves behind her ears, unexpected—unwanted—loneliness invaded his gut. Kelsey had left him, and that’d felt bad. Now, Cassie was leaving, too? That felt even worse. No. He didn’t want her letting go of his hand any more than he wanted her and her babies going home.

  Good Lord, someone call 9-1-1!

  A bachelor afraid of spending a little quality time on his own was not a good thing.

  “I appreciate your concern,” she said, sending him deeper into emotional and now physical turmoil by licking her full lips. Down, boy, down. “Especially since it’s not likely we’ll ever see each other again.”

  “Sure.”

  Wait a minute…She was right!

  What could his bachelorhood status possibly have to fear from Cassie since after today he’d never see her again? Finally. A voice of reason—welcome, even if it wasn’t in his own head!

  Yeah, but tell me, Einstein—what’s her leaving going to do for your loneliness?

  Noah swallowed hard.

  That inner voice was nothing more than lingering shame over Kelsey having dumped him. Oh—not to mention sleep deprivation. Obviously, he must still be a little weak. Easily enough remedied next weekend when he’d have a whole Saturday of shut-eye followed by a Sunday all-male barbecue. Yep, get all the guys out on his just-finished backyard deck, all gathered around his brand spanking new gas grill for some ribs, burgers and beers.

  Yep, hot damn, life just didn’t get any better than that. Just as soon as he got Cassie and company home, he’d start making calls.

  So as not to appear too eager to get her out of town, he said, “I remember you saying you’re not married, so when you get home, who’s going to watch out for you? Mom, dad? Friends? Ex?”

  Had he only imagined the catch in her breath as she shook her head? “I’m the only family my girls will ever need. I’ll be a mother to tuck them in at night. A father to play baseball, and a favorite aunt to take them to the zoo. And when they’re teenagers, needing a close friend to confide in, I’ll be that, too.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your lives mapped out.”

  “I do. And if you were an explorer and happened upon us, and wanted to give our happy little family a name, wanna guess what it would be?”

  “Wouldn’t have a clue.”

  “No Man’s Land.”

  Had Noah been fully awake, Cass’s declaration would have sounded like heaven to his female-wary ears. But in his obviously still sleep-weakened condition, her blunt speech sounded defensive.

  Someone had hurt her. Bad. Question was, what—if anything—was he going to do about it?

  Chapter Three

  After Noah left, if Cassie hadn’t already been in bed, she’d have collapsed. What had gotten into her to say such an outrageous thing?

  Maybe the quiet thrill of his gentle kiss? The security of having his hand around yours? Seeing your tiny baby sheltered in his big, strong arms, and wondering how much richer your daughters’ lives would be than your own if, unlike you, they grew up with a father?

  Cassie frowned.

  That was ridiculous!

  The last thing her girls needed was a daddy. Besides, Cassie was no more interested in Noah than he was in her.

  So why did she get all defensive on him?

  Tom. That’s why.

  Because his lies had forever and irrevocably changed her for the worse. More than ever she hated her former husband for instilling in her an innate need for constructing emotional walls.

  Where her heart had once contained nothing but trusting naiveté, now, she knew she’d never trust another man again—not of choice, but necessity.

  On her own, she’d barely survived Tom’s deception, but now, she had the girls’ well-being to consider.

  Noah seemed like a nice guy. Yet Tiffany claimed he ran when the word commitment was so much as breathed around him. So why was he still hanging around?

  Baffling. The man’s actions were utterly baffling.

  Putting her hands to her temples, Cassie tried massaging answers from her aching head.

  Why was this virtual stranger being so darned nice?

  What did he want from her?

  Even more disturbing, what did she want from him?

  She would have pondered all of the questions further, but ever since delivering the babies, her mind and body had had a tough time coordinating schedules.

  This time, her body won, and sleep stealthily took hold.

  “THAT’S OKAY, Doctor,” Cassie said early the next morning after he’d lightly shaken her awake from her latest nap. “I understand about the girls needing to stay on.” What she didn’t understand was why no one in this hospital wanted her to sleep!

  “All right, then…” said the pediatrician caring for the twins. His black toupee hung a bit askew from the gray tufts peeking around the sides, but his friendly smile lit the blue eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “If our craft fair makes it tough for you to find a room, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks,” Cassie said, “but I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”

  Hugging the babies’ charts, Doctor Joe, as he liked to be called, paused on his way out the door to give her a thumbs-up. “Young lady, judging by the spunk it must’ve taken to bring those two girls into this world, I’m sure you will.”

  Famous last words.

  Ever since the doctor had informed Cassie that she was free to leave the hospital, but her babies weren’t, due to a mild case of jaundice, she’d been dialing her way through Riverdale’s meager yellow pages, trying to find a hotel, motel or even a houseboat for rent.

  Unfortunately, every single establishment she’d called had had only one thing to say. “Sorry, but because of the craft fair, we’ve been booked for months.”

  Even d
own in Little Rock, she’d heard of the twice annual northwest Arkansas event. She even had friends who regularly made the trip for handwoven baskets, hand-strung beaded necklaces and funnel cakes. What Cassie hadn’t known was just what a big deal the craft extravaganza actually was.

  Oh sure, this early in the week, she could’ve gotten a room in Fayetteville, Springdale or Rogers, but for only two nights. What if the babies ended up staying longer? And how was she going to manage the hundred and twenty mile round trip commute?

  Just as she’d hung up on Doxy’s Motor court after yet another apology, a knock sounded on her door.

  “Come in,” she sang out, glad she’d at least managed to put on real clothes in between calls.

  At least two dozen yellow roses arranged in an elegant crystal vase walked in attached to long, strong masculine legs encased in faded jeans. “Good morning,” said a familiar voice that sounded an awful lot like Noah from behind the fragrant blooms. “I brought you a going-away gift.”

  “If only I had somewhere to go,” she said, trying not to pout. “I don’t suppose you have any connections with the local inns?”

  “What’s this? Miss Independence is actually asking for help?” Noah set the flowers and his keys on the bedside table, then lowered himself into his usual chair. The red Razorback T-shirt he’d changed into did the most amazing tricks with his warm brown eyes, and his dark hair looked all spiky and damp from a recent shower.

  Cheeks warming at the mere thought of him all rock hard and suds slick, she hastily looked away.

  Trying to ignore the heady scent of the roses, not to mention the completely irrational quickening of her pulse, Cassie stuck out her tongue before saying, “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. And might I say you look particularly fetching yourself—all dressed up in your fancy black dress, but with nowhere to go, huh?”

  “Thanks again for reminding me.” From her perch on the edge of the bed, she wrinkled her nose. “Guess the nurses told you I get to go home, but Noelle and Hope are staying.”

  He nodded. “Nurse Helen said this jaundice thing is fairly common.”

  “Oh, she did, did she?” What had been Helen’s support group initiation number? Eleven? “You two getting cozy?”