Some kind of wonderful (10 page)

Some Kind of Wonderful 89

down again. "I've been looking into it. Put Slater and Hoover on it, too."

Sean nodded. Ken Slater and Bob Hoover were only part-time deputies, but apparently Jack was calling out all the help he could wrangle.

"Henry down at the Silent Night Motel says there was a pregnant woman staying at his place for a week or so," Jack said, fatigue staining his voice. "She paid her bill in advance though, so he didn't see her at checkout time. Couldn't say if she was substantially thinner or anything."

'The ladies at the church are talking about nothing else," Sean admitted. In fact, the whole town was concentrating on the mysterious appearance of the newborn. Suspicions were high and rumors were flying faster than Eddie Horton's fastball. "And Mom's right at the top of the gossip chain." Big surprise."

Well, she's worried about Peggy." Peggy?" Jack just stared at him. "Little sis weighs about a hundred pounds. Plus, she wears those skimpy, stomach-baring shirts all the time. No way that baby was hers."

"Yeah," Sean said wryly, "even Mom can figure that out. But our dear mother's still having trouble knowing that Maggie and Eileen have sex. She doesn't want to think about her baby girl being of an age where—"

"Yeah," Jack said quickly, holding up one hand to cut him off. "Neither do I."

'The point is," Sean said, enjoying the irony that the only one of them who couldn y t have sex was the one person willing to discuss it. "Something unusual happened here; something no one can understand. And it's making everybody a little tense."

"I know." Jack briskly scraped both hands over his face. "I'keep getting calls with 'helpful' tips. So-and-so lost weight. So-and-so left town and suddenly came back. I even had someone call yesterday to remind me that Jennifer Stephens is just back from her semester in Europe and didn't I think I should be checking her out? Jesus, you'd think the whole town had suddenly joined the FBI."

Sean frowned thoughtfully. Jennifer. Eighteen. In Peggy's class. Hard to imagine a teenager having a baby and nobody knowing about it. Especially around here. Slowly, he shook his head. "An abandoned baby is big news."

"In LA, it would hardly have rated a small column on the back page of the paper."

"As you're so fond of pointing out, this is not LA."

Jack sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Because it's not, we should have an easier time finding the mother. But it doesn't look like we're going to. We'll keep looking, of course, but—"

"Probably won't have any luck."

"No. The important thing is, the baby's fine."

"That's something we can be grateful for," Sean murmured. "At least the mother cared enough to leave the child where it would be found."

"Wouldn't have been found until morning if Carol and her damn bear weren't out prowling."

Sean looked at his brother as both of them thought about that for a minute.

"Coincidence?" Sean asked.

"Pretty lucky coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

"Under most circumstances, yes." Sean's gaze dropped to the surface of his coffee as he thought about the citizens of Christmas and tried to imagine any of them abandoning

a child. He just couldn't do it. Lifting his gaze to Jack again, he shook his head. "It had to be a lucky break, that's all."

Silence stretched out for a moment or two before Jack agreed "It's summer. Even a damp, cool night wouldn't have been enough exposure to kill the baby. More than likely, the mother was just driving through town and stopped long enough to drop off her little bundle. Figuring the baby would be discovered first thing in the morning. Mother of the year is long gone by now."

"Which leaves the baby where?"

"Right now, with my landlord."

"Ah, yes." Sean smiled again and wiggled both eyebrows. "Carol Baker. Pretty."

"If you like the type."

He snorted. "You mean tall, tanned blondes with big brown eyes? Yeah, it's a tough type to like."

"Aren't you a priest?" Jack muttered and stood up.

"Yeah, but I'm not dead," Sean reminded him. "Or blind."

"Butt out, Sean."

Struck a nerve, Sean thought, pleased that at last, Jack was taking an interest in something. It had been too long since he'd allowed himself to care. Too long since he'd started shutting people out of his life because his wife had turned out to be a lying bitch. But even as that thought crossed his mind, Sean inwardly winced. In his line of work, he really wasn't supposed to pass judgment. But as he'd told Jack, he was neither dead nor blind.

He felt like celebrating, though. This was the first sign of life Sean had seen in his brother in nearly two years. If a pretty blond and a newborn baby could make this much of an impact on him in a few days... just

imagine what might be accomplished in the next few weeks.

"Is she coming to the parade?" Sean asked.

"Carol?"

"No, Momr

Jack scowled at him. "Probably. Maybe. I don't know," he grumbled. "How the hell should I know what she's doing?"

Sean smiled into his coffee cup. This was getting better and better. "Why don't you ask her to join the family for a picnic and fireworks?"

"Because we're not going steady, I'm not taking her to the damn prom, and there is no malt shop in town," Jack sneered. "Christ, Sean, back off, will you?"

"Feeling a little testy, are we?"

Jack walked around the edge of his desk and headed for the door. "Feeling like pushing your luck, aren't you?"

"Onward Christian Soldiers."

"Very funny."

"Thanks," Sean said, standing up and turning to face him. "Now how about you come by the rectory tomorrow night? Father Duffy's out of town for a week. We could grill some steaks, have a couple beers—"

"No, thanks."

"Why not?"

"I know you mean well, Sean," Jack said, "but what's that old saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?"

"I'm a priest, remember? I don't do hell."

Jack looked at him for a long minute. Maybe not, he thought, but cops did hell all the time. Even ex-cops. "Yeah, well, I don't need a confessor. And if I did, it wouldn't be my little brother."

He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder at him when Sean said, "Who do you need, Jack?" "Nobody," he said tightly. "Not anymore."

"Who're you lookin' for?"

"Hmm?" Carol's gaze swept the crowded carnival grounds for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour. "Looking?"

Phoebe laughed, shook her head, and slapped Carol on the shoulder. "That's just pitiful."

Carol swiveled her head around and lifted one eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Phoebe's lips twisted into a sniffy pout. "Play dumb all you want, but I know a 'searching gaze' when I see one."

Smiling, she said, "Shut up, Phoeb."

"Oooh. Well, I guess that'll show me."

Her friend's smile assured her that the subject hadn't been dropped. But then, why would it be? She could hardly convince Phoebe that she wasn't looking for Jack, when even she didn't believe herself. Carol gave it up and glanced down at the stroller where Lizardbaby was snoozing through all of the commotion surrounding them. Strange, the kid wouldn't close her eyes in a quiet room. But give her crowds, screaming kids, and piped-in circus music and she was down for the count.

And Liz had slept through a lot. Dozens of people had stopped them on their stroll through town to admire the baby and to make silly noises at her. They'd had plenty to say to Carol, too. About what a good person she was to take in a foundling. About what kind of creep the mother must have been to walk away from her own child. It was all Carol could do to stand there and listen.

She didn't want Liz to hear any of it, that was for sure. But she smiled politely and resisted the urge to check people for germs before letting them stick their sweaty faces into the stroller.

Her heart flipped as she stared down at the tiny baby asleep in the shade of the stroller's cheerfully striped awning. She didn't deserve any of the accolades people were heaping on her. She hadn't taken the baby because she wanted to do a "good thing." She'd taken Liz in because she couldn't bear the thought of the baby getting lost beneath a mountain of paperwork and well-meaning strangers.

She certainly hadn't planned on loving Liz, though. She'd done her best to protect her heart against a child that would, eventually, be taken from her by Social Services and placed for adoption.

But the simple truth was, trying not to love a baby was like trying to empty the ocean with a sieve.

What she could do about it now, she had no idea. Carol steered the stroller around a couple of deep ruts in the grassy field. She smiled at Thelma Jackson and stepped a little faster, to avoid having to stop and let the baby be admired again.

"You realize," Phoebe said, leaning in to grin at her, "I'm not dropping the subject. I'm just giving you enough time to come up with a better lie than 'huh'?"

Carol laughed shortly and let a sigh slide from her throat. Phoebe wouldn't give up until she'd found a way to make Carol admit what she was thinking. So she gave in early to avoid the hassle. "Fine. I was sort of looking for Jack."

"Sort of?" Phoebe said on a hoot of laughter. "Honey, if you'd been looking any harder you would have been in a point position like a Labrador."

"Oh, thanks. That's attractive."

"I call 'em like I see 'em." Phoebe shook her coppery hair back from her face, then tilted that face to the sun. "God, it feels good to be outside on a day like this."

Good. A shift of subject. "Crowds, heat, blistering sun. What's not to like?"

Phoebe shot her a sidelong glance. "I hear the unmistakable sound of a tense woman. A woman who needs to get laid."

"You know, Phoebe," Carol said with a shake of her head, "sex is really not a cure-all."

"Obviously, you just haven't had the right 'prescription,' yet."

"And you have?" She shot her friend a look and watched as a self-satisfied smile curved her mouth. "Okay, stupid question."

"True," Phoebe said and gave a tiny shiver along with a short sigh that told Carol she was remembering having her latest prescription filled. "Cash is ... amazing. Mind-altering. Soul-awakening ... what else?"

"Never mind. That's enough."

"Okay, now that's a bad sign," Phoebe told her. "When you don't even want to hear about great sex, it's been too long."

"Will you stop talking about it in front of the baby?"

"She's asleep," Phoebe pointed out.

Carol rolled her eyes.

"God, honey, in the two years I've known you, you've gotten 'lucky,' and I use the term extremely loosely in this situation, exactly once."

Carol winced as eight-month-old images raced through her brain. Images Phoebe had dredged up. Ben Higgins wouldn't exactly take up much space in her memory book. If she had one. She'd dated poor Ben for nearly a month

before the fateful night. He was safe and boring and, she'd thought at the time, better than staying home watching TV.

Oh, that last night had been a disaster—starting with the two of them going out to dinner with his mother and ending with a way too brief roll in the hay. Poor Ben. He'd finished almost before they started, then spent twenty minutes apologizing. Nope. Not a happy night for either of them.

Still, she managed to suppress a shudder as she said, "I'm not looking for a relationship."

Her friend snorted and took a big bite of her grape Sno-Kone, pausing a moment to lick the purple juice from her bottom lip. "Honey, who said anything about a relationship? I'm not talking about Mr. Right, here. Mr. Wrong would do for the moment. I'd just like to see you find a man. Even temporarily. Hell, even for one night."

"Gee, thanks, Mom." Laughter colored Carol's tone. Phoebe meant well, but then, every woman who was getting regular sex from a guy who looked like carpenter Cash meant well.

"I'm just saying," Phoebe went on as if uninterrupted, "a little sex clears out the cobwebs."

"Uh-huh, but I'm a little busy at the moment," Carol said, nodding toward the still-sleeping baby. Quinn brushed his heavy body against hers as if to remind her that he too was there. Automatically, she dropped a hand to his broad back.

"And the baby's great," Phoebe said, smiling at Liz as she said it. "I'm glad you've got her. But there's more out there for you than one tiny baby."

"Phoebe—"

"You're interested in Jack, right?"

"Interested?" she echoed and thought about it for a minute or two. "Fascinated" might be a better word.

"Intrigued," even. It's the shadows, she thought. The shadows in his eyes. They pulled her in even when she knew it was stupid. Women always made the mistake of thinking they could change a man. Or help him. Or whatever. Well, she'd made that mistake once.

A person was going to make mistakes, that was a given. But a smart person didn't make the same ones.

"Never mind," Phoebe said with a small laugh. "You don't have to admit it. That little stream of drool says it all."

"What?" Carol lifted a hand and swiped at her dry chin, then shot her friend a dirty look. "Very funny."

"Hey," Phoebe said and tossed her Sno-Kone wrapper into a nearby trash can. "A medical professional and a comedienne. I live to serve."

"Uh-huh." Pleased that Phoebe was letting go of the "get Carol laid" campaign, temporarily at least, she changed the subject entirely. "And how'd you manage to get the holiday off from the clinic?"

"Bribery," Phoebe said. "I promised Dr. Phillips that I'd work the next four weekends in exchange."

"Ouch."

Phoebe lifted her face to the sun again. "Worth every hour." Then she glanced at her watch and said, "Hey, let's head back. The parade's about to start and one of my patients is doing a baton twirl in front of the band."

"Who?"

"Lucy Chambers."

"Lucy?" she asked, frowning as the image of the tall freshman rolled through her mind. "Doesn't she have a broken leg?"

"Yep." Phoebe grinned, dropped an arm over Carol's shoulders, and said, "She's in a walking cast, but there's nothing wrong with her twirling arm."

Carol turned the stroller around and moved along with the crowd, drifting back toward North Pole Avenue. She kept one hand on Quinn's broad back, threading her fingers through his wiry gray hair, to keep him close in the crowd. Not that he'd ever willingly leave the baby's side, she thought. The big dog had become a canine nanny of sorts. He stood guard over the sleeping infant day and night, and when he did sleep, it was beside her crib. Carol smiled to herself. It was hopeless, she thought. Both she and her dog were already in love with the baby.

If she had to give Lizardbaby up, it was going to kill her.

Journal Entry

They're looking for me.

Everyone's talking and speculating.

The sheriff is asking lots of questions and even the kids in town are looking at each other and wondering. I feel like everybody's watching me, but I know they're not. They wouldn't believe that I'm the baby's mother.

It's even hard for me to believe it.

But my heart's so empty, it must be true.

and kids crowded together. Peggy was off with her friends. Father Sean held six-year-old Patrick on his lap and tickled the boy every time another blast of light rocketed into the sky. And Carol kept glancing at the baby asleep in her stroller as if expecting the child to disappear.

"How're you doing with the baby, honey?" She practically had to shout the question to be heard over the crowd and the thunderous sound of the fireworks.

"Good," Carol said, with a glance into the stroller. She stifled a yawn and Mary Alice smiled knowingly.

"Not getting much sleep, though, are you?"

"Not a lot," the younger woman admitted with a half-laugh.

"Tell you what." Mary Alice leaned in closer, stealing a glimpse of the tiny newborn sleeping peacefully through the riotous night. "Why not let me take her home for the night and—"

"Oh, I couldn't..."

Waving a hand in dismissal, Mary Alice said, 'Trust me, I've got all the stuff she'll need. And besides, with Eileen due to pop again any minute, I could use a refresher course on newborns." The poor girl looked like she was ready to drop, anyway. Mary Alice well remembered a time when she would have been willing to do just about anything for one night's uninterrupted sleep.

Carol reached for the baby's foot and smoothed her fingertips across the tiny, bootie-covered toes. "I don't know .. "

The matter was settled then, as far as Mary Alice was concerned. Eager now, she pulled the stroller closer to her and fought the urge to scoop the sleeping baby into her arms. "Don't you worry about a thing," she said, giving Carol's hand an absent pat. "She'll be fine with me

and you can come and get her first thing in the morning, if you want."

"Well..."

"You might as well cave now," Sean said from his post nearby. "Mom's itching to get a hold of that baby."

Carol glanced at the man who looked so much like his brother. In the flickering light of the fireworks, Sean's eyes gleamed a pale blue and made her remember the icy shadows in Jack's eyes. Both men held an undeniable appeal—but even if Sean hadn't been a priest, Carol knew she'd still be more attracted to Jack. Sean's smile was open, unguarded, and his eyes weren't haunted.

So what did it say about her, that she was drawn to the brother with trouble stamped all over his face?

Journal entry —

/ saw the baby again today.

Carol smiles at her all the time and I think I saw the baby smile back. Can babies that tiny really smile?

She's beautiful, and so small. But she's not mine anymore.

It's the Fourth of July. Independence Day. My independence, too. Vm not a mom. Vm just me again. I did the right thing. I know I did.

But I wish I could touch her again.

I didn *t think Vd miss her so much.

The finale crashed into the sky with a series of ear-splitting roars and eye-searing colors. And once it had twinkled itself into blackness, the crowd moved as one.

Tired people packed up baskets and coolers and sleeping kids and headed for the parking lot and the town beyond.

Voices rose and fell with the same steady regularity of the ocean waves rushing to and racing from shore. There was a sameness to it, a comforting normalcy that reached into Jack's heart and eased it a little. It had been too long since he'd felt a part of something like this. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

He heard her approach long before he saw her. It was the bells, he told himself. The jingling on her tennis shoes. It was like belling a cat. He always knew when she was close by. Although, he admitted silently, he'd probably be aware of her even without the early-warning system.

When he spotted Carol and her guard bear weaving their way through the crowd, a flicker of something warm and wonderful sparked inside him. His heart quickened and he felt the rush of blood in his veins. What was it about her? How did she continually sneak her way into his thoughts? Under his defenses?

Carol Foster was a dangerous woman. Even more so because she didn't know how dangerous she was. So she kept right on doing whatever the hell it was that kept getting to him. And for some damn reason, he couldn't seem to stay away from her.

Her blond-streaked hair was windblown and wild, as if a man had spent hours raking his hands through it. He curled his fingers into his palms to keep from doing just that. Instead, his gaze raked over her. From the top of her head and her slightly sunburned nose, down her skimpy tank top with the elf on it, across her denim shorts and along the length of her tanned, smooth legs. Something low inside him crouched and

growled in a hunger he hadn't known in way too long. If he had any sense at all, he'd turn his back and head the other way.

He started toward her before he could talk himself out of it.

"Where's the baby?" he asked, when he stopped directly in her path.

"Whoa." She stopped short to avoid crashing into him. Then tipping her head back, she met his gaze, one corner of her mouth quirked slightly. "Is this an official investigation?"

Fine. He'd asked the question a little more harshly than he'd planned to. But it was hard to talk when there was a knot of need lodged in his throat. A need he didn't want to think about, much less admit to.

Jack nodded absently to the people passing by him. "No. Just curious." He glanced down at the dog watching him through suspicious eyes. "Hi to you, too."

Quinn murmured his opinion in a low growl.

Carol's hand dropped to the big dog's head and the animal leaned into her while she smiled. A truly great smile, Jack thought as the full force of it hit him hard. There was warmth in that curve of her mouth and the same warmth shone just as brightly from the depths of her dark brown eyes. Even in the dimly lit dark, it was as though a light clicked on behind her eyes and Jack wanted to bask in the heat she offered; he wanted, suddenly fiercely, to stand in the light with her, despite knowing that he belonged in the darkness.

"Quinn's just protective," she said unnecessarily as the big dog's upper lip curled back on a rumble that erupted from his broad chest.

Warily, he kept an eye on the oversized hound. "Quinn just wants to eat me."

Her mouth twitched again. "Not really. Chew on you for a while, maybe."

"Well, that makes me feel better," he said and lifted his gaze from his nemesis to Carol. "You gonna tell me where the baby is?"

"She was kidnapped."

His body stiffened. His gaze narrowed. His heart thudded to a stop and his breath caught in his chest. Every cell in his body went on red alert. "What?"

"Hey," she said, reaching out to lay one hand on his forearm. "Just a joke, Sheriff."

Heat shot from her hand up his arm with the effect of a stray lightning bolt. His breath slid from his lungs slowly, like air escaping a leaky balloon. Stupid. Of course she was kidding. If anything had really happened to Liz, Carol wouldn't be standing here quietly driving him insane. He kept his gaze locked with hers and tried not to feel the sizzle of her hand on his flesh. Her skin was soft, her hand small, and yet her touch seemed to go bone deep.

God, he wanted to be warm again. He wanted to feel the heat of her against him.

Scraping one hand across his face, he took a step back, letting her hand fall from his arm. "Sure it was a joke. Sorry. Long day."

"Yeah," she said, still watching him as if expecting him to explode any minute. "It was."

Someone slammed a cooler into his right knee and Jack moved to one side. Though what good that would do when the crowd surrounded them on both sides like the parted Red Sea, he didn't know. But he was in no hurry to move on. No hurry to stop talking. Which was weird, since he couldn't remember a time in the last two years when he was actively seeking conversation.

She swayed slightly as the crowd surged around her, as if she were caught in a riptide and fighting for her balance. "Liz is with your mom."

"My mom?"

"Uh-huh." Carol jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Liz fell asleep and, well, I almost did too," she admitted on a soft laugh. "Right in the middle of the pounding noise and fireworks. Staiffed falling asleep sitting up."

His gaze ran over her, head to toe and back to her eyes again. Eyes he couldn't seem to look away from. Eyes he didn't want to stop staring into.

"Anyway," she said, clearing her throat and shifting position under his solemn stare. "Your mom noticed and offered to take Liz home for the night. Let me get some sleep."

"Sounds like her," he admitted. Nothing his mother liked better than a baby in the house. Maggie and Eileen had done their best to keep Mom happy on the grandchildren front. But she hadn't stopped hoping that Jack would come through for her, too. She wanted more little Reillys running around and she wouldn't be getting them from Sean. But, Jack thought, with a small twist of pain at the bottom of his heart, she didn't have much chance of getting any out of him, either. Not anymore.

"So you're free," he said tightly.

"Yeah."

He dragged his gaze from her mouth and idly watched faces stream past him. "You want to catch a cup of coffee or something?"

She looked as surprised by the suggestion as he felt. Hell, he didn't even know where the words had come from. All he knew for sure was that he hadn't stopped thinking about her since their late-night coffee and cake the night before. He kept seeing her, in the bright light

of the kitchen, surrounded by wildly overgrown house-plants. He heard her laughter, he saw her eyes. Even sleeping, her image chased him, which was, he silently admitted, a damn sight better than the dreams that usually haunted his sleep. But the point here was ... what was the point again?

Oh, yeah. He didn't want to be alone. He was so damn tired of alone.

"Sure," she said after a long minute or two of studying his features as if waiting for his head to do a 360-degree spin. "Where? Reindeer Cafe?"

He shook his head. Not in the mood to deal with his family—and he'd surely run into them at their restaurant. "Come back to the office with me?" he suggested. "Gotta close up, anyway."

"Okay."

He turned and she fell into step beside him. Naturally, Quinn kept his big body between them—like a living, breathing, old-fashioned bundling board. And a part of Jack was grateful. Keeping Carol at a distance was getting harder. Best for all of them if the bear continued to stand guard.

Over the rumblings of the crowd, he heard the jingle bells she wore on her shoelaces again. Music danced along with her at every step. Cheerful. Bright. And, he'd thought only a day or two ago, annoying. He heard that tinkle of sound at all hours of the day and night. It burrowed through her apartment door, across the hall, and into the silence of his own apartment. Refusing to be ignored or silenced, the tinkle of bells continually reminded him just how close she was. Just how ... alive she was.

And just how silent his world had become.

Hell, it hadn't always been like this. He remembered

a time when he'd rushed at life like an adventure waiting to be discovered. He'd had a wife and a baby on the way. He'd had a job he loved and a partner he'd trusted.

Until he'd lost it all in one rainy night.

"They did a great job on the fireworks this year, didn't they?"

"What?" He glanced at Carol and stepped out of the way of an old woman pushing through the crowd, using her umbrella like a cattle prod. "Yeah. The Dooleys always run a good show."

"I know."

"Right." Stupid. Of course she knew. She'd dug herself so deeply into Christmas, she was more connected here now than he was.

Not that he wanted connections anymore.

Not that he missed them.

Carol glanced up at him and noticed his jaw twitching spasmodically. Gritting his teeth? Well, wasn't that nice? If he was that miserable about going for coffee with her, why had he offered?

And more importantly, why had she agreed?

Wasn't it enough that he lived directly across the hall from her? That she could hear him moving around in his apartment? That whenever she heard the roar of the shower in his place she was imagining him wet and naked?

Okay, back up.

Get a grip.

And for heaven's sake, stop listening to Phoebe extol the virtues of good, healthy, uncomplicated sex.

But that was the key word, right? Uncomplicated. There was absolutely nothing uncomplicated about Jack Reilly. The man walked around under his own personal rain cloud. He snarled louder than Quinn if

anyone came too close and kept whatever he was thinking and feeling buried so deep under layers of crabass that she couldn't tell from one minute to the next what he was going to say.

Like the coffee invite, for instance.

Where had that come from?

No. Her life was fine as it was. She had the added bonus of Liz now ... temporarily, at least. She didn't need this. Didn't need to start caring about someone else. She didn't want to risk it. Her emotions were swinging wildly from one extreme to the other. Her brain raced with too many thoughts to slow down and count.