The Baby In The Back Seat
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“I advertised in a parents magazine. So far I have five positive replies and one maybe.”
“Are five kids enough to make the difference?”
“Not really,” she replied with a wry smile. “I’m taking one day at a time.”
Sam looked back at the chocolate cake. “If word gets out about what a great cook you are, you’ll probably have more campers than you can handle.”
“I wish.” She laughed. “Are ham and eggs and chocolate cake enough to impress you?”
“You bet. Some people, myself included, can’t boil water.” He went back, sat down at the kitchen table and dug into the cake. “You can cook for me anytime.”
She laughed again and cut him another piece of cake.
Sam liked the sound of Laura’s laugh. He liked a lot more about her, too, and not only her cooking. The way a dimple danced across her cheek when she smiled. The way she smiled at him. Her open heart, her courage when faced with a situation that would have sent most women running.
Laura felt herself blush when she saw admiration shining in Sam’s eyes. It was a good thing he was leaving in a few days, she thought. She couldn’t take being around him without thinking the impossible. Sam and his infant daughter reminded her of her dream of a family of her own. An unlikely dream at best.
She was saved from her thoughts by a knock on the front door.
“Laura? Laura, are you in there?”
Relieved, Laura made for the front door with Sam hard on her heels. “It’s Pete Dolan, the county sheriff,” she said over her shoulder, and opened the door. “Hi, Pete. Come on in. What’s up?”
Pete opened the screen door, came into the living room and eyed Sam. “Heard you had company.”
“News travels fast around here, but not that fast.” Her eyes narrowed. “Who have you been talking to—Magraw?”
“Yep. He stopped in the office and told me your friend here threatened him with a rifle.”
“I was the one who threatened him with the rifle, but it wasn’t loaded,” she answered heatedly. “I don’t even own any ammunition. It was dad’s old hunting rifle, and you know full well it’s not operable.”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “So your friend here had nothing to do with the confrontation?”
“Not really,” she said. “Well, maybe. If Magraw wasn’t such a jerk, he’d have noticed that when Sam took hold of the gun, he had the muzzle pointed at the floor.”
Sam stepped forward and held out his hand. “The name’s Sam Harrison. I’m not exactly a friend of Ms. Evans’s. The truth is, I ran off the road yesterday and banged up my car.”
Pete nodded as he shook Sam’s hand. “Noticed the busted fence and the remains of the water tower as I drove in. You responsible?”
“Sorry to say, I am.” Sam managed a grin, but he wasn’t too happy about the grim look on the sheriff’s face. With the accident and the rifle business, he sensed he already had two strikes against him. It wouldn’t take much to reach three. “Ms. Evans was kind enough to offer me a place to stay until the rental agency in Grand Junction sends down a replacement vehicle. Seems there’s a holiday getting in the way.”
Annie began to cry.
Dolan looked over at the baby and back at Sam. “Yours?”
“Mine.” Sam strode over to pick up the baby, then held her to his shoulder and patted her on her back to comfort her. The mutt took a stand at his feet.
“Is there a Mrs. Harrison around here?”
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