Loving the Lawman

“I’ll have pizzelles and Italian cookies for you,” Carmen promised. “If the mouth is full, complaints become a nonissue.”

Zach laughed. “I like how you think. Okay, how’s this Saturday? Does that work for you, Seth?”

“I’ll be there working on installing the rack hardware, so yes. But I thought you were planning to be gone on Saturday?” He met Carmen’s gaze straight on. “I distinctly remember you saying that you and your granddaughter were attending an all-day function in Clearwater.”

“When the opportunity to help the town came up, we decided this was more important,” Carmen replied. “Helping with the bicentennial costuming gives us the chance to show off our versatility without spending advertising dollars, and you know how pricey that is for start-up businesses.”

Her reply made perfect sense, but Seth wasn’t a wet-behind-the-ears beginner on the force. He saw the old woman’s ruse and couldn’t fault how she wrapped her matchmaking in a shroud of community outreach. Clever and admirable. And he’d make sure to never underestimate her in the future, which was good since they were neighbors.

“Ten o’clock okay?”

“Fine with me.” Carmen tapped a number into the calendar as the next person filed out of the room to set up a fitting time. “Officers, we’ll see you Saturday morning.” She turned and aimed her bright-eyed smile at the next victim as Zach and Seth left the building.

“Did we just get railroaded into wearing some kind of Dudley Do-Right costume to become laughingstocks of the entire community and thousands of tourists?”

“Yes.” Seth sighed, stared out at the snow, then shoved open the door. “Worse, my Saturday just morphed from a peaceful long day of me, hardware and pre–Super Bowl radio sports chatter to me, them and Italian opera.”

“No way.” Zach’s look of horror matched Seth’s spoken angst. “Take your iPod.”

“I don’t have an iPod.”

“Borrow one,” Zach advised as he moved to his car. “I get to leave and go home, where our current topic of conversation will be what color to use on the nursery.”

“Piper’s expecting?” Seth clapped the other man on the back. “That’s wonderful news.”

“It’s early, and we’re not saying much yet, but yes, come summer we should have a little Harrison to add to the bicentennial fun.”

“Congratulations.” Seth meant the word sincerely. “There’s nothing like being a dad.”

Zach met his gaze. Seth read sympathy mixed with Zach’s joy. “Thanks, Seth.”

Seth climbed into his car.

He’d been starving when he showed up at the meeting. He wasn’t a bit hungry now. He was thrilled for Zach and Piper. Their fall wedding had been a fun, hometown event. And Seth’s younger brother, Luke, was engaged to Piper’s sister, Rainey. Their wedding would join two families who’d met life’s challenges and clung to faith and hope.

Right now all he could think of was his empty house. No school books strewn here and there. No inane, overacted tween shows on cable. And no one to urge to eat meat loaf...or try broccoli...or teach how to tie flies for stream fishing, or take out in Dad’s boat, watching for nesting water birds. There was just him and eight yawning rooms, a house that felt so empty he could cry. But big, strong men didn’t cry, so he parked the car, grabbed a shovel and spent two hours cleaning out his driveway and then Gianna’s. By the time he completed the job he was tired enough to fall into bed and sleep.

And that was a scenario he’d been practicing for over two years. Work himself so hard that he couldn’t help but sleep, and while he was awake, pray that God watched over the girl he loved as a daughter. Wherever she might be.

* * *

“Police officer uniforms?” Gianna scolded as she grabbed a snowbrush from the trunk after the lengthy meeting. Two hours in lake-effect snowfall had left the car buried. “Really, Gram?”

“I can’t think of a better way to show off tailoring skills than on those two,” Carmen quipped back as she reached for the second brush. “Everyone will notice, guaranteed. Those men are seriously good-looking.”

The thought of Seth in an old-style sheriff’s uniform wasn’t unappealing.

The idea of working with him was, but only because she could deny the attraction when he wasn’t around. In person?

She sighed, swept the snow aside with more vigor than necessary and took out her aggravation on innocent frozen precipitation. By the time she climbed into the driver’s seat, the car had begun to warm. She sent a sidelong look to her grandmother, who waved off her concerns with practiced nonchalance. “We’re here to do a job. A new start. Doing what we do best and having people’s gratitude and awareness is huge, Gianna. You know that.”

“I get that part.” Gianna thrust the car into gear and moved forward carefully, eyeing the thickening snow. “But I wasn’t expecting police uniforms in the deal. Fitting uniforms is a pain in the neck.”

“I found patterns online. They won’t be any more trouble than the long, tucked skirts we’re doing for the ladies.”

Gianna disagreed silently. She’d have no problem working with the ladies. Nipping the waists, adding tucks for proper ease over the hips.

Working with Seth?

That was a problem in itself. Her fault, she knew, so she’d just have to deal with it. Right now she had other things to think about, though. Like how to get the car into the snow-clogged driveway so the overnight plows wouldn’t hit her small SUV and send it into the nearby lake. She turned onto Main Street, put on her signal, then smiled.

He’d cleared the driveway. From side to side and end to end, black asphalt with just a little clinging snow called to her. The crunch beneath the tires said he’d sprinkled salt, too.

Quick tears stung the backs of her eyes.

Mike had taken care of her like this. Always thinking ahead, thinking of others. That warmth and bravery had led to his death. If trouble loomed, he jumped in, wanting to help. Serving and protecting, all of his days.

Maybe Seth wasn’t like that. She hadn’t known him long enough to know. But they shared the caregiver’s urge, the guardian. Looking out for others.

Was she selfish to avoid a repeat of those qualities? To resent what was taken from her? Maybe.

But better selfish than heartbroken again.

As she stepped out onto the firm surface, she reached back to grab her purse and notebook.

Light streamed through Seth’s side window, one single beam from within. Outside, his porch lights glowed all night, a policeman’s first line of defense, she knew. Overnight lights made it tough if not impossible for anyone to creep up on a house. But somehow Seth’s lights didn’t look protective. They looked welcoming. Waiting. As if he turned them on to guide someone home, like that old George Strait song.

But that was silly female imaginings. She closed the car door and followed her grandmother inside, worried and excited about Saturday. And the fact that she was excited to work with Seth worried her even more.

Chapter Three

“I’m not sure where we are, Dad, I just wanted to call and say I love you.” A tiny sound that could have been a choked sob broke through Tori’s whispered phone message. “I miss you so much.”

Seth’s heart ground to a halt as he listened to her plaintive words again on Saturday morning.

Tori was reaching out to him. She’d done this before, but not in a while, and he’d hoped—no, he’d prayed—that the interim silence meant things were going better. The pain in her childlike voice said that wasn’t the case.

The phone call had no return number. She’d blocked it so he couldn’t call her back. That meant she’d be in big trouble if her mother knew she’d contacted him.

A harsh pain in his chest said his heart had started beating again. How could he help her? How could he reach her?

He’d exhausted legal means early on. Because of his nonparent status, he had no recourse. His fault. He should have insisted on the adoption first thing after they’d married. At least then he’d be her legal father. He’d have rights. As it was he had nothing, and when Jasmine had left, she’d taken the most precious thing she’d brought to their ill-fated marriage. Her child.

“Seth, good morning.” Reverend Smith stopped at the road’s edge, his half-grown pup straining at the leash. “Titus. Leave it.”

The dog paused, sighed then sat, obedient, but his expression said he wondered why they were stopping on the cold, wet street when there was a perfectly good rectory a block away.

“Titus is doing well.” Seth leaned down and rubbed the pup’s neck with gentle hands. “Zach’s sister took one of the pups for her boys, and he’s more rambunctious.”