The Lawman's Baby. Patricia Johns
“I haven’t seen her in a long time. She ran away as a teenager a couple of times. The second time, she didn’t come back. This was the first contact I’ve had with her in about three years. And I’m not sure it really counts as contact, if I never saw or spoke to her, does it?”
“I guess not,” Paige said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well...” He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t talk about his sister—she wasn’t an easy topic. There weren’t any answers.
“What caused her to run away?” Paige asked.
“We were raised by our grandmother when our mom took off. Grandma wasn’t really equipped to raise two kids. Her health was failing, and frankly, she was just tired. But it was better than nothing. Anyway, Jana and I handled our upbringing a little differently, I guess. I toughened up, and she...didn’t. She was sensitive, and we went to a rough school. I didn’t notice that she was struggling until it was too late.”
“Was there abuse in your home? Addiction?” Paige asked. Yeah, that was the social services shining through. She would probably have seen a lot of this sort of thing in her career.
“Mostly it was neglect,” he replied. “We raised ourselves, and I was pretty busy with my own friends, drowning my own sorrows. I thought she was doing the same thing—just riding it out. Grandma hated Jana’s boyfriend. He got arrested a couple of times, and Grandma had enough, told Jana to stop seeing him. So she ran away with him. She came back when they broke up after a couple of months. I thought it was over, but she never did settle back in, and the next time she took off, she never came back. And we didn’t find her.”
“How old was the boyfriend?” Paige asked.
“Three years older than her. She was fourteen. He was seventeen. Looking back on it now, they were both pretty young.”
“You didn’t find her until now?” Paige asked.
“No, I tracked her down a couple of times. Once she found me and asked for money. Another time I found her when her name came through the system—arrested for petty theft. I don’t know where she is right now, though. They can’t tell me anything under the Safe Haven law that gives a mother the right to relinquish her infant within three days of birth, no questions asked. I guess she did the same thing Mom did with us—dropped her kid off with someone she knew would care, and left.”
“The police are still looking for her, though, right?” Paige asked.
“I’m personally looking for her,” Mike retorted. “I’m not going to let her down again.”
The baby started to whimper from the car seat, and he looked over at Paige expectantly.
“I told you that you’d be the one doing the baby care,” Paige said with a small smile. “No time like the present to get started.”
He stared down at the little guy, trepidation rising up inside of him. He reached down and undid the buckle.
“I’m not sure how...” he admitted.
“One hand under the bum, one hand under the neck and head,” she said, standing back, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Right.” He did as she instructed and lifted the infant out of the car seat. The little arms and legs flailed as Benjie opened his mouth in a plaintive wail. Mike pulled the baby into his chest, and Paige draped a blanket over him as Mike got adjusted. Benjie felt so small in his hands, and as the baby wriggled, squirming toward his neck, he was surprised as the little guy’s strength. Mike boosted him higher on his chest, and Benjie let out a soft sigh as his head made contact with Mike’s neck just under his chin. He couldn’t see the baby anymore now—just feel him as he settled over Mike’s heartbeat.
“Okay...” Mike breathed. “Got it. He’s really small, isn’t he?”
“They start out that way,” Paige said. “Especially if they’re born a little early. I’ll cut you some slack and get the bottle ready. At his size, he’s going to be eating every hour or two. He’s got some catching up to do.”
“As in twenty-four feedings a day?” Mike asked incredulously.
“Give or take.” She bent down, picked up a box of supplies that had come from Social Services in Denver and headed toward his kitchen. Her cheerful voice filtered back to him as he heard the tap turn on. “You’re about to find out what tired really feels like!”
And then she laughed, this buoyant, cheerful tinkle of laughter that made him feel a little better, in spite of it all.
PAIGE STOOD BY the kitchen sink shaking up a bottle of formula. Mike’s kitchen was neat—a pot in the farmhouse-style sink waiting to be washed, but other than that, the counters were wiped and everything looked in order. Paige could appreciate a neat kitchen. It was soothing.
The milk frothed in the bottle, and she paused, let it settle, then shook it again. The view from the kitchen window opened up into a backyard with a lawn that seemed to fade into some brush and forest. Trees flamed red and gold; the wind rippling through autumn leaves clung resolutely to the branches. Beyond the trees, the mountains loomed. A cape of evergreens mingled with a few deciduous trees that were in full fall display climbing up the mountainside toward the bare, rocky peaks that were obscured by cloud.
“It’s quite the view,” Mike said behind her, and she turned. The baby was still snuggled up under his chin.
“It really is,” she agreed, and she turned on the hot water tap to warm the milk in the bottle. “I’ve lived here my whole life, except for my college years, and I never get tired of that view.”
“Really?” Mike raised his eyebrows. “All your life?”
“It’s as good a place as any to grow up,” she said, turning off the tap and shaking up the bottle again. “I love this town. We have more than our fair share of eagles, which draws in a lot of tourists. Have you ever seen one up close?”
Mike shook his head. “Not yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time around here,” she said. “Most people want to come out this way for the wildlife.”
“Not me.” His voice was a low rumble.
“So why did you?” she asked.
“I didn’t have a whole lot of choice,” he replied. “My boss strongly suggested I transfer out, and Eagle’s Rest was the only place hiring.”
“What happened?” She eyed him for a moment, standing there with the baby in his arms and an irritable look on his face. “Never mind. I think I can guess.”
“Yeah?” He shot her an amused look. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
“My brother’s a cop, and I’ve worked with police officers for a long time. The one thing you all seemed to share in common is a tendency to balk at authority—ironically enough. It takes a certain personality type to want to chase down bad guys...and that personality doesn’t like authority, either.”
He laughed softly. “You’re insightful.”
“I am.” She shot him a smile back. “So, I’m right?”
“Sort of,” he said. “I want to join the SWAT team, but that involves both a passing mark on the qualifying exams and a recommendation from my boss to even get into the Denver SWAT training. Chief Vernon wasn’t going to give me the recommendation. He said if I wanted to start fresh somewhere else, I was welcome to. There was an opening here, and I figured I’d take his advice and see if I couldn’t get a new chief to help me get there.”
“SWAT.” She eyed him for a moment. “That’s elite. Have you done the exams?”
“Yep.