The Sergeant's Unexpected Family. Carrie Nichols
She trailed off, shrugged, then winced as if the movement or the thought was painful. “I don’t know anyone else here, and I panicked for my son.”
“I’m glad they did. Where’s...?” He glanced around but saw no evidence of a baby, and his stomach somersaulted. Jan had told him they were releasing both, hadn’t she?
His apprehension must’ve shown, because she reached out and brushed his arm with her fingertips. It was a simple gesture of reassurance, but her touch spread warmth across his chest.
“They’ve assured me Elliott is fine. Not even a bruise. But I haven’t been able to get anyone to bring him to me. I just keep remembering him crying—” She sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut.
Oh, God, not that. Anything but a woman turning on the waterworks. You’d think, having witnessed his mother’s histrionics during his childhood, he’d be immune. He clenched his jaw at the unwanted memory of his mother’s many tearful rants designed to get everyone around her to cave in to her demands. For all the good it had done, since nothing seemed to please her.
He set his memories aside because Mary’s tears were genuine, not manufactured for effect.
“Want me to go and see if I can get someone to bring him to you?” He was ready to march out there and demand—heck, he’d beg if he had to—and not stop until they brought Mary her son.
She drew in a shaky breath. “The nurse said—”
“If my patient gets any more popular, I may start handing out numbers like the deli on Saturday mornings.” Nurse Jan stepped into the treatment area, a pair of blue scrub pants folded over her arm and a uniformed deputy at her heels. “Of course, if all her visitors are this good-looking, who am I to complain?”
“Glad to see you’re okay, ma’am.” The deputy sidestepped Jan, nodded to Mary then turned to Brody and stuck out his hand. “Wilson.”
“Cooper.” Brody shook hands with his friend’s husband. He’d met Meg McBride, now Meg Cooper, when she’d come to the farm, asking if he had any extra eggs she could buy. When he learned she wanted them for the weekly community luncheon at the church, he’d donated them. And continued to. How many eggs could he eat, anyway?
Deputy Riley Cooper didn’t act surprised to see him. Even for Loon Lake, the information about Mary and Elliott had spread quickly, unless... “Are you here to investigate the accident?”
“No, that’s for the state troopers. My big mistake was stopping at Loon Lake General Store when I got off duty. Tavie voluntold me to go and see if I could salvage the personal belongings out of Ms. Carter’s car at the tow yard. Tavie figured my uniform would get me in. It did.” Riley’s mouth twisted upward on one side at the admission. “You were at the store when the hospital called?”
Brody nodded, rolling his eyes. “And Tavie was having a double-duck fit because I left before giving her a full report.”
The nurse patted Brody’s shoulder. “Ha. Tavie was on the phone demanding details before you even turned your key in the ignition.”
Brody had been watching Mary, and his heart gave a quick thump at her sudden grin.
“Sir? Were you able to get anything from my car?” Mary sobered and directed her question to Riley.
“Yes, ma’am, I found a diaper bag and your purse, but I couldn’t unlatch the trunk. Must’ve been damaged by the impact. They frowned on me taking a crowbar to it until the investigation is completed.” Riley rested his hand on his duty belt.
Mary frowned. “Investigation?”
“Don’t worry, ma’am, just a formality.” Riley smiled. “The accident was a chain reaction. According to accident investigators and witnesses, you stopped in time but the guy behind you didn’t and pushed you into the car in front of you. Luckily no one sustained serious injury. A sudden change in wind direction blew smoke across the road from a smoldering wildfire and reduced visibility.”
“I see. Thank you, Officer,” she said and gave Riley a wobbly smile.
Brody unwrapped a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth, wishing that enchanting smile was directed at him. How crazy—as in, asking-for-trouble-crazy—was that?
Riley nodded. “Tavie insisted I bring a brand-new car seat. You’re not supposed to use the old one after it’s been in an accident.”
“But how did anyone know I even needed one?” Mary asked.
Brody gave Jan a sideways glance.
“Hey, she’s my mother-in-law. Ducking her calls is not an option, but I didn’t break any privacy laws when I mentioned you might need one,” Jan said and spread her arms to herd the men to the opening in the curtain. “All right, you two wait in the hall and let the poor woman finish dressing. Unlike the deli, our goods aren’t on display for all and sundry.”
“C’mon, Wilson, I have the car seat and some of Ms. Carter’s things in the trunk of my patrol car. Help me get ’em.” Riley turned back to Mary before Jan could close the curtain. “Ma’am, my wife says if you need anything—anything at all—to let her know.”
“That’s very kind of her. Thank you,” Mary replied.
“I’ll get your things,” Brody said over his shoulder and fell into step beside Riley.
“She your sister-in-law?” Riley asked as they marched through the ER toward the ambulance bay.
“Who knows.” Brody shrugged but acid was burning a hole in his gut. Roger still hadn’t returned his call. He was trying to give his brother the benefit of the doubt but it was getting hard.
He knew women found Roger handsome and charming. And Roger had enough money to flash around if the first two didn’t work. He frowned. The woman back there didn’t look like a gold digger. Or are you letting those dark eyes and sweet mouth blind you to facts? And why should he care? Roger could look after himself. But it wasn’t Roger that bothered him—it was Mary. He hated the thought that Roger might have taken advantage of her. That was an absurd notion, since he barely knew the woman. But he did want to know what had happened between the two and why his brother wasn’t with her. Or why Mary apparently hadn’t tried to contact Roger.
Riley cleared his throat. “It was just the two of them in the car. The trooper I talked to said it was a chain reaction. Not her fault. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that means anything to you.”
“Thanks,” Brody said, but fault didn’t matter, nor did her character, since it looked like everyone expected him to pick up the pieces. Even though he hadn’t even met his nephew yet, Brody felt responsible for him, protective of him. And Mary, too. “I don’t know her, despite the connection she’s claiming through her son. I haven’t spoken with Roger since our father’s funeral. Not that I’ve ever been privy to his love life, thank God.”
“Do you—” Riley paused to open the exit door and glanced around “—want me to run a check on her?”
“Nah.” Brody’s chest tightened as the image of Mary’s dark, distress-filled eyes popped into his head. If they hadn’t brought her son to her by the time he got back, they’d have him to deal with. Something about this woman pulled at him, touched something he kept buried deep.
After the nurse left with a promise to bring Elliott, Mary unfolded the scrubs, stuffed her legs into them and eased off the gurney to pull them up, careful not to jostle her pounding head too much. At least these pants fit better than the shirt, but she still hated Brody seeing her like this. She would’ve sworn the thoughtless comments from foster parents no longer had the power to wound, but in times of stress those voices from the past threatened her self-confidence.
Even with her occasional blurry vision from the concussion, she’d noticed how Brody’s slim-fitting Western-stitched chambray shirt complemented his wide shoulders, and the rolled-up sleeves had revealed