Sheriff’s Runaway Witness

instead.

The French doors to both his and Rachel’s rooms stood open onto the veranda. He paused there, taking in the sweet smells of flowers and the warm spring breeze, listening to the wind chimes and for sounds of infant displeasure. Hearing none, he hesitated, and then, with no idea what motivated him, stepped into Rachel’s room. He waited a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, then walked-okay, tiptoed, being mindful of the blinking monitor-to the side of the bassinet. Stood-for how long he didn’t know-gazing down at the kid, watching him sleep, and wasn’t even aware, just then, that he was holding his breath.

He had to admit the kid had improved with age, although he still didn’t think he’d call him beautiful, exactly. Then again, seeing him all wrapped up like a papoose in a blue blanket with teddy bears on it, dark hair waving across his scalp, lashes fine as spider webs laying on fat pink cheeks, he could see how a mother might think he was. One tiny hand had managed to break free of the swaddling blanket and was splayed over one cheek, wrinkly fingers spread wide. He reached out with one finger and touched the hand. Instantly, the fingers moved…curled… It reminded him of the way a sea anemone contracted when you poked it with your finger. The pink mouth contracted, too, drawing up into a tight little bud, and the forehead wrinkled into an infant version of a frown.

J.J. realized, suddenly, that he was smiling.

What the hell am I doing? He jerked his hand back, turned and tiptoed quickly across the room and through the French doors.

Rachel was in the courtyard, standing by the fountain. She was gazing down at the hand she was trailing in the water, but looked up quickly when he stepped onto the veranda, reminding him of a doe startled at a waterhole. She broke into a smile when she saw him, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, and it occurred to him she looked as guilty as he felt.

“Hi,” he said. “Back already?”

At almost the same moment, she nodded toward the room he’d just left and said, “Is he-”

He shook his head. His heart was thumping. “Sound asleep.”

“Oh.” For an instant she looked as if she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry. Then, smiling again, she burst out, “Oh, I had the best-” just as he was saying, “How did your-” So he stopped and motioned for her to continue.

She did, breathless as a child. “Oh, Jethro, you should have seen it, there are just babies everywhere. I guess that’s the way it is, in the spring, on a farm. Baby calves-there’s even a little tiny calf Sage said they have to feed with a bottle because he was a twin and his mother rejected him, but that’s only until they get him strong enough, then he said they’ll let him nurse one of the milk cows. They are so pretty…the calves are. They seem so shiny and new, and they have such beautiful eyes. There are baby lambs, too, and baby goats-the goats and sheep don’t seem to mind twins. Almost all of them have twins, and one of the goats even has triplets. They aren’t out in the pasture-they have to stay in pens until the babies are bigger, because of coyotes. Even bears and mountain lions, sometimes, can you imagine? And there’s a litter of kittens- Sage said they were born in the haystack, but he moved them into the tack room because they’re safer there. They’re just getting their eyes open now. I can’t wait to see them when they start running around. Oh-and the house is fascinating, too. It’s over one hundred years old, made of adobe. The walls must be a foot thick. Sage said-”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” J.J. interrupted, mainly because he didn’t think he could stand hearing “Sage said” one more time. “I hate to stop you there-you’ll have to tell me all about it some other time. Right now, I’m fixin’ to head down the mountain, see if I can pick you up a cell phone.”

Her lips twitched and her dimple threatened. “‘Fixin’ to’-that’s Southern, right?”

He grunted. “Funny. Look, I was just wondering if there’s anything you need me to pick up for you while I’m down there.”

“Oh-yeah.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, smoothing back damp wisps of hair. And his stomach clenched as he flashed on an image of his own hand smoothing those same damp wisps while he growled at her, One more time…come on, baby, you can do it…one more. “I made a list-Josie has it…”

“Might as well save her the trip.” He motioned for her to stay put. “I’ll get it from her.” He started on across the courtyard, then reversed direction when he remembered he still needed to get his hat. Then halted again and turned back to her, feeling awkward as a tongue-tied kid. “Uh…any particular kind of cell phone? Color? Bells and whistles?”

She shook her head, smiling crookedly and without the dimple. “I don’t need fancy. Just need it to work.”

He nodded and stepped across the veranda, boots scraping on the stone pavers.

Rachel watched him go, one hand pressed against her pounding heart. She waited until he’d disappeared into his room before letting out the breath she’d been holding.

Thank God I have quieter shoes than he does, she thought. Otherwise, he’d surely have heard me. If he knew I’d seen him…knew I’d witnessed that moment…him with Sean…he might never forgive me.

Oh, but I did see it. And I’m so very glad I did.

Chapter 11

She was prepared for him, that night.

She’d brushed her hair, for one thing, and made sure to put on a clean shirt and pants, the cotton knit ones with the elastic waistband Katie had given her to wear while she was getting her figure back. And how long was that supposed to take, she wondered as she surveyed herself in the mirrored closet doors in her room, standing sideways and trying very hard to suck in her stomach. Granted, it hadn’t even been a week, yet, but still…

Who am I kidding? And why should I care? With a sigh, Rachel let her cotton knit tunic top fall back into place, covering her billowing breasts and stomach bulges. Not a chance in hell any man was going to find that attractive, which was probably for the best, anyway. Sure, Sheriff Jethro Fox was attractive, and given that he’d saved her life and Sean’s, too, it was understandable that she might develop some feelings for him. But the timing was all wrong. And, she devoutly hoped, she’d learned a few lessons from past experiences about following where her emotions led too impulsively.

With those emotions firmly in hand, she turned to the bed where Sean lay kicking, squirming, snuffling and gnawing on his fist, not yet worked up to full cry. Murmuring soothing promises, she picked him up and tucked him in the crook of her arm, then opened the door and stepped into the hallway. In the soft glow of the sconces high on the wall she could see J.J.’s door was closed. She hadn’t meant to look but couldn’t help it as she turned the other way and headed for the kitchen. Just as well, she reminded herself. Remember?

In the softly lit kitchen, she marched with confidence to the refrigerator and took out the package of disposable formula bottles. It was much easier to get one out of the package now that it had been opened.

However, opening the bottle, she found, still took two hands. She struggled with it while Sean worked his way from snuffling to fussing to wailing, coming dangerously close to wailing herself, then thought, Enough of this. She plunked the unopened bottle in the sink, sniffed, wiped her eyes and marched out of the kitchen and down the hallway. At J.J.’s door she paused, but Sean’s insistent wailing made it easy to summon the courage to raise her hand and knock.

“Jethro,” she called moistly, “are you awake? I need you.”

He’d been listening for her. He hadn’t been sleeping, and with his French doors open to the courtyard, he’d heard every restless movement she’d made, and most of Sean’s, too. When he’d heard her door open and her bare footsteps retreat down the hallway toward the kitchen, he’d almost gotten up and followed her. Almost. Until he’d reminded himself of all the good reasons why it was a bad idea being alone with a beautiful woman wearing very few clothes in the wee lonely hours of the night.

Particularly when she was a potential witness, one he was starting to have some decidedly unprofessional feelings about.

So now here she was, knocking on his door. Telling him she needed him. What was he supposed to do about that? Pretend to be asleep and ignore her? No way in hell.