The Deputy's Unexpected Family

It might not be easy, but I’ve made it a habit now that when others reach my goals before I do to say, “I’m happy for her! May God remember me, too.” Because I’ve learned that just because God has blessed one person, doesn’t mean His plans for anyone else have diminished.

If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, or on my blog, PatriciaJohnsRomance.com (http://www.PatriciaJohnsRomance.com). I’d love to see you!

Patricia Johns

To my husband,

my very own Happily Ever After. And to our son, who is old enough now that he really hates being left out of book dedications!

Contents

Cover (#u90702b2f-94b1-5227-9756-c2eb156aec67)

Back Cover Text (#u9091a46d-aa4b-52fc-9273-5625622449aa)

About the Author (#u92ff16ab-84e4-5553-b76f-4587d7e8f39b)

Booklist (#u20f54b44-957a-5ddf-a2f4-bc6ee6b2c288)

Title Page (#uc5a6c908-2157-59b1-bb2b-b689f2012e10)

Copyright (#u3f50fca3-809a-5f45-bf2d-261abf26f2a1)

Introduction (#u00169c12-ad01-5e0a-81c8-cd995a4571c9)

Bible Verse (#u2f7a503e-6eda-5554-9cd1-179da825a2c6)

Dear Reader (#ue85e6bff-aaf0-52ae-b301-cf7f4625a31c)

Dedication (#u587c7347-9719-5cb3-ae88-0ec59874c2fd)

Chapter One (#u81a6f519-99f7-502f-aeaa-1d24d2ffae72)

Chapter Two (#u65bb1f50-137f-5946-865d-ea0bf4188788)

Chapter Three (#u6609f7d6-4efa-560c-a5b6-c293c81fb0b6)

Chapter Four (#ua31862a8-df66-5871-ac93-a92954b1669f)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u5c67eb0d-8160-5d8c-ba05-113fbbf0da0d)

Harper Kemp stood in the center of her disheveled shop, Blessings Bridal, gaping at the mess. She had arrived two hours before any of the other shops on Sycamore Avenue opened for the day, hoping to get a little paperwork done, but had walked into this.

The front display window was edged in the sharp lace of broken glass and a chill autumn wind whisked into the shop. The cash register hung open, empty, and several voluminous gowns clung to the mannequins in tatters. Whoever had done this had slashed through the delicate material, leaving the floor littered with beads. The front display case had been smashed, and the velvet nests that once held tiaras, clasps, bejeweled belts and the like now lay vacant, peppered with glittering glass.

Her heart slammed in her chest, and she pulled her ginger curls away from her face as she took it all in. Why hadn’t the alarm gone off when this happened?

Comfort Creek was a small town with an inordinate number of cops roaming the streets due to a county-run sensitivity training course based in the town. It was supposed to be the safest community in Colorado due to their overabundance of officers patrolling the town while they completed their sensitivity training. Tell that to whomever had robbed her.

“Oh, Lord...” It was a prayer, but she was still too stunned to know what to even ask for. She pulled her tortoiseshell glasses off her face and glanced down at her phone. She’d just called the police and given the pertinent information. They’d be here soon, she was assured. She ran a hand through her fiery curls. A few months ago, Harper got custody of her four-year-old goddaughter, Zoey, when her best friend, Andrea, died in a car accident, and she felt like she’d just found her footing again with a daughter to raise...now this.

Harper stepped over the broken glass, already mentally tallying up the loss. Insurance would cover most of it...except Heidi’s dress! The thought struck and her stomach dropped. Her younger sister’s wedding dress was a family heirloom, and no amount of insurance money would cover the sentimental value of that dress.

Harper dashed into the back room and spotted the untouched box high on a shelf. She breathed a prayer of thanks. God must have put His hand over that dress...and she was grateful. Everything else could be replaced. How was that for some perspective?

The bell from the front door jingled, and she heard the tramping of heavy feet.

“Miss Kemp?” a deep male voice reverberated through the store, and Harper turned back toward the retail space. The police had arrived.

“I’m here,” she said, stepping back out. “Thanks for—”

The words evaporated on her tongue. The officer standing in the middle of the mess was tall, muscled and had the same direct gray gaze she remembered from years ago when they were teenagers dreaming of their futures in this town... It was Gabe Banks.

“Hey—” His tone softened. “Long time.”

“Very long time,” she agreed, then smiled feebly. “What are you doing here?”

“You reported a robbery.” He raised one eyebrow.

“I mean in Comfort Creek. I thought you were in Fort Collins.” One possibility bloomed in her mind—that he had somehow found out about four-year-old Zoey. There were enough people in this town who would have pieced it together...