In Blackhawk's Bed. Barbara McCauley
for the wallet sitting on the end table. “Along with the fact that you’re single, thirty years old, six-foot-four, with black eyes and black hair.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t ‘just happen’ to notice my weight and the fact that I’m an organ donor, too,” he said sarcastically.
“Actually, she did. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks turned pink as she handed him the wallet. “You’re already a bit of a celebrity here. Billy Bishop from the Ridgewater Gazette wants to do a cover story on you.”
Terrific. Seth held back on the groan threatening to surface. Jarris would just love hearing that one of his undercover detectives had his picture plastered on the front page of this backwater town. Throw in the story about how he’d broken his superior’s nose after a bad bust last week, then how he’d been suspended for six weeks, and Jarris would probably be so happy he’d burst a blood vessel.
“No story. You tell Billy Bob—”
“Billy Bishop.”
“Whatever. You tell him absolutely, positively, no story.”
“I’ll try,” Hannah said hesitantly. “But you don’t know Billy.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” Seth stared at the bag of frozen peas covering his ankle. As much as he hated to admit it, his foot hurt like hell. He didn’t like it, but he knew he had to face the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere today and probably not tomorrow, either. “I’ll need to speak to the tow-truck driver before he leaves. I’ll need some kind of time frame on the repairs.”
“I’ll go see if he’s still here.” Hannah stood, glanced toward the front door and the sound of people talking outside. “I—I am sorry about all this. My daughters are usually very well behaved, but sometimes they act up when—” she hesitated, then drew in a slow breath “—when there’s a lot going on.”
Seth could tell that Hannah had been about to say one thing, then quickly changed her mind. He admitted it made him curious, but he shrugged it off. Whatever she’d been about to say was none of his business. Unless a person was a criminal or under investigation, he made it a rule never to interfere or pry into anyone’s life. He figured if he didn’t want people butting into his life, then he should keep his nose out of their business, as well.
But there was one thing he wanted to know, though. One thing he felt he needed to know. He glanced at her ringless hand again, but wasn’t about to make any assumptions.
“Will your husband have a problem with me staying here?”
She stilled at his question, then slowly shook her head. “I’m divorced. It’s just me and the girls here.”
Since he wouldn’t be around more than a couple of days, Seth knew it shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other, but the fact she was divorced pleased him. He supposed he just didn’t like the idea of lusting after a married woman. Though he didn’t have many rules in his life, there were a few he never broke.
“So you’re opening a bed-and-breakfast all by yourself?”
“Not exactly. My friend, Lori, is going to work with me two or three days a week, plus Mrs. Peterson next door has already offered her help if I need it. I’m not foolish enough to think I’ll have full occupancy the minute I open my doors, but there’s only one motel in town and we get quite a few people traveling through here.”
“Looking for the world’s largest fruitcake?”
She smiled, didn’t seem to take offense at the slight mocking tone in his voice. “As simple as it might sound to you, the giant fruitcake Wilhem’s Bakery bakes once a year is this town’s claim to fame. Most of the people who live here take it very seriously. And believe it or not, we get our fair share of tourists. With only one small motel in Ridgewater, I should be able to make a living, at least enough to support me and the girls.”
She turned at the knock on her front door. Her expression was apologetic when she looked back at him.
“My neighbors kept a respectable distance while the doctor was in here with you,” she said with a sigh. “But they can only be held at bay for so long. Whether you like it or not, you’re a hero, Mr. Granger, and the town of Ridgewater, Texas, home of the world’s largest fruitcake, is about to welcome you.”
Three
Hannah kept a safe distance from Seth for the rest of the evening. Not that she could have gotten close to him even if she’d wanted to. The town’s phone wires had been burning up since Detective Granger had plowed through her fence and rescued Maddie, and there’d been a steady stream of people coming through the house for the past two hours to meet this mystery man. And though Hannah certainly didn’t approve, Maddie and Missy were the belles of the ball, receiving as much attention as Seth, with everyone telling them what brave little girls they were and patting them on the head. The twins were eating it up and had been eager to retell the incident over and over, embellishing the story each time, until it appeared that Seth truly was the man of steel.
The only thing missing was his red cape and a big S on his chest.
While Maddie and Missy sat together on a chair in the living room and told their story one more time to Helen Myers, a waitress at the town’s diner, Hannah stood by the kitchen door and watched Billy Bishop attempt to pump Seth for information. Though he’d been stiffly polite to the people who had come to meet and gawk at a real, live superhero, Seth was having no part of Billy’s questions.
He still sat on the sofa, his leg on display as if it were a war monument, his face looking as if it might crack at any moment. Everyone oohed and ahhed and shook their heads with sympathy while Billy asked Seth what he’d been thinking when he’d so selflessly snatched Maddie from the tree branch. Seth glared at the twenty-three-year-old, spiky-blond-haired reporter, and Hannah doubted that Billy really wanted to know what Seth was obviously thinking at the moment.
Like it or not—and clearly he didn’t—Seth Granger was big news in Ridgewater. Outside of barbed wire and armed guards, Hannah could see no way to keep her neighbors and townspeople away.
At least they’d come prepared, she thought as she looked at her dining-room table. At present count, she’d received three casseroles, a broccoli-bacon salad, two apple pies, a pecan coffee cake and one half-frozen fruitcake. Since Hannah had set out plates, silverware and coffee, the noise level in the room had dropped several decibels while people ate.
“I saw the whole thing,” Hannah heard Mrs. Peterson tell George Fitzer, who’d just arrived on the scene and was filling a plate with macaroni and cheese. “He was amazing. Truly amazing.”
“We should give him a trophy,” Mrs. Hinkle, the town librarian said.
“For heaven’s sake, Mildred.” Mrs. Peterson rolled her eyes. “The man didn’t bowl a perfect game, he saved a child.”
“Well, maybe a medal, then.” Mrs. Hinkle reached for the last piece of coffee cake. “Or a plaque.”
“I know what I’d like to give him.”
Startled, Hannah turned at the sound of the voice behind her, saw the look of appraisal in her best friend’s eyes as she stared at Seth.
“Lori Simpson,” Hannah whispered over her shoulder, “shame on you. You’re a married woman and mother of three.”
“What?” Lori, a pretty redhead with big green eyes, gave Hannah an expression of complete innocence. “I was going to say a coconut cream pie.”
Hannah lifted one brow in doubt.
Lori stared across the room and grinned. “And after I smeared the whipped cream all over his body, I’d slowly lick it all off and—”
“Stop.” Hannah felt her cheeks start to warm. In fact, she felt her entire body start to warm at the image Lori had just given her. “You have a gorgeous husband who adores you. How can you