Teresa Carpenter

The Sheriff's Doorstep Baby


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      “Where are you staying?” Nate asked.

      Michelle frowned. “What do you mean? This is my home. I’m staying here.”

      “I have a contract that says you’re not.”

      “You can’t throw me out of my own house.” Dread tightened like a fist in her gut.

      “This badge says I can.”

      “Before we continue this argument, can you go feed your cat? The distressed cries are driving me crazy.”

      “What are you talking about? I don’t have a cat.”

      She blinked in surprise. “Don’t you hear that? It’s been crying for the last five minutes.”

      He cocked his head as he listened. The plaintive wail came again, weaker now.

      “That’s not a cat.” He moved to the front door, flung it open, and charged coatless into the blizzard. “It’s a—”

      The wind grabbed his last word and garbled it, but it sounded as if he’d said baby.

      Dear Reader,

      Every little girl dreams of being a princess. Fairytales foster the fantasies of life—peril, humour, love and happily-ever-after. It’s my joy to bring you three stories based loosely on three fairytales. This is Sleeping Beauty’s story.

      This book is dedicated to my nieces, and I’ll share a story about Ashley. When she was in high school she and three of her friends decided to dress up as princesses for Halloween. She chose Cinderella, and her mother helped her find a pretty blue dress that was full and swished when she moved. She put her blonde hair up in a bun and wore long white gloves. She looked as if she’d walked from the pages of the fairytale.

      Sadly, she arrived on Halloween to find not one of her friends dressed up as promised. It could have been a disaster. Instead Cinderella became the belle of the ball. Everyone made a big deal of her all day long. And that evening, when she went trick or treating with her younger sisters, people praised her and asked if they could take her picture. That day she was a true princess.

      Do you have a princess moment? I hope so.

      Happy reading!

       Teresa Carpenter

      About the Author

      TERESA CARPENTER believes in the power of unconditional love, and that there’s no better place to find it than between the pages of a romance novel. Reading is a passion for Teresa—a passion that led to a calling. She began writing more than twenty years ago, and marks the sale of her first book as one of her happiest memories. Teresa gives back to her craft by volunteering her time to Romance Writers of America on a local and national level.

      A fifth-generation Californian, she lives in San Diego, within miles of her extensive family, and knows that with their help she can accomplish anything. She takes particular joy and pride in her nieces and nephews, who are all bright, fit, shining stars of the future. If she’s not at a family event you’ll usually find her at home—reading, writing, or playing with her adopted Chihuahua Jefe.

      The Sheriff’s

       Doorstep Baby

      Teresa Carpenter

       image www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      For my nieces Amanda, Ashley, Sammy, Erika,

       Michelle, Gabrielle and Rachel.

      You are everything a heroine should be: beautiful,

       smart, talented and loving.

      I’m proud of you all.

      PROLOGUE

      “DADDY! Daddy! You’re here.”

      “Mama! Hi! Over here.”

      Arms flung wide, ten-year-old Michelle Ross twirled in a wide circle, her long blond curls and wide pink skirt flowing out around her. She determinedly ignored the excited calls of her friends as their parents arrived to visit.

      For the first time ever she felt beautiful.

      She loved Princess Camp, even if her dad didn’t come to parents’ day. He said he would, but he promised lots of things that didn’t happen. Duty first.

      She begged and begged Daddy to be able to come. And of course, he said no. And continued to say no until Aunt Yvonne finally stepped in to plead Michelle’s case. She had to behave all of June and July—which had been torture—but come August she’d been off to camp. And all that boring good behavior paid off.

      She shared a cabin with Elle and Amanda. They instantly became BFFs and did everything together. And Michelle loved it all, even the etiquette classes. A princess needed to know how to conduct herself!

      “Michelle, these are my parents.” Dragging a dark-haired man by his hand, Elle proudly presented her father. “Daddy, Mama, Michelle is in my cabin. She’s Beauty. I’m Belle and Amanda is Rapunzel. We’re going to do a dance for the talent show. Sleeping Beauty had the gift of song, so Michelle’s going to sing.”

      “Hello, Michelle.” Elle’s father greeted her and shook her hand. “What a lovely young woman you are. I can see why you’re Beauty.”

      She giggled and dropped into a shallow curtsy. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

      “What lovely manners,” Elle’s mother said with a kind smile.

      “The pleasure is all ours.” Her dad tugged on Elle’s dark red ponytail. “I can’t wait to see you girls dance. And to hear you sing, Michelle.”

      “The talent show isn’t until after dinner,” Elle advised him. “Come on. I want to show you my cabin, and the pool, and the gazebo.”

      He laughed indulgently. “We’re coming, Elle. But what about your friend?”

      “Oh. Michelle’s waiting for her dad. Right?”

      “Yes—” Michelle nodded and put hope into her voice “—he should be along anytime.”

      Elle’s mom looked down the empty drive and frowned. “I don’t like leaving you alone out here.”

      “I have to stay in the courtyard,” Michelle reassured her. “I’ll be fine.”

      “Elle, I think we should ask your friend to keep us company until her dad comes along.”

      “Yeah.” Elle grabbed Michelle’s hand, swung it back and forth. “Come with us. Your dad can find us when he gets here.”

      “Maybe.” Michelle bit her lip. She should wait for Daddy. She was excited to show her dad around camp, to tell him what she’d learned, and how much she loved her time here. More than anything she wanted him to hear her sing and to impress on him that she should come back next year. But the