“That’s quite a man you’ve got there.”
The nurse spoke to Cassie while making a note on her chart.
“Thanks, but Noah’s not my man. He’s my guardian angel.”
And speaking of angels…
The sleeping angel Cassie held in her arms took her breath away. Had there ever been a more beautiful sight?
Emotion swelling, she blinked back tears. Every bit of the anguish she’d been through was worth it. Not only was she alive, but she was holding her very much alive baby in her arms, with another perfect baby waiting in line for her breakfast.
And just think, she had this double blessing and her own life all because of Noah. Though the actual delivery of her babies had become a blur, he was the one thing about her ordeal that she’d never forget. His soothing voice, and the way he’d held her hand, urging her not to give up.
Starting at the still-warm spot on her forehead where Sheriff Noah Wheeler had planted his tender kiss, she felt a quiet contentment creep through her.
Dear Reader,
Some of my books contain more of the real me than others, and Babies and Badges is definitely one of the stories with a lot of me! First, I grew up in Springdale, Arkansas, which is only about forty-five minutes from the fictional small town of Riverdale. This mountainous part of the state is gorgeous any time of the year, but the story opens in spring, when the leaves are such a luminous shade of green that they look as if they’re floating. The smells are heady. Rich and loamy and sweet. Okay, so clearly I love the setting. Ah, but the people of Arkansas I love even more. Lots of quirky true individuals never in such a hurry that they can’t take time out to share their day.
The hero of this story, Noah Wheeler, was a football star at the University of Arkansas, where I graduated in 1989. Cassie, the heroine, is an interior designer in Little Rock. While I never practiced there, right out of college I did interior design work for what have since become two of the most prestigious architectural firms in the state. All of that is just backbone to the story. Many of my favorite things wove their way in. The War Eagle Craft Fair. Saturday morning yard sales. Steeple Hill author Margaret Daley’s hot yellow Thunderbird convertible…and my love for all deep-fried foods!
For those of you who’ve never had the pleasure of visiting this enchanting state, I hope reading Noah and Cassie’s story will tempt y’all into coming on over for a visit real soon!
Laura Marie Altom
I love hearing from readers at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101 or by e-mail at [email protected]. And check out my Web site at www.lauramariealtom.com!
Babies and Badges
Laura Marie Altom
For my dear grandmother-in-law, Wanda Thompson-Davis—better known in the family as Nana—and her husband, Sonny Thompson, whom I’m deeply sorry never to have known. How you two got left off my special grandparents’ dedication I’m still trying to figure out! In the meantime, please know how much you mean to all of us here in Tulsa!
Contents
Chapter One
Sheriff Noah Wheeler glared at the pink rice bag occupying his passenger seat and muttered, “I’ll give you a Here comes the bride…”
Tightening his grip on the wheel, telling himself the muggy May breeze ruffling his hair through the ancient Suburban’s open window was relaxing instead of annoying, he sighed.
What the hell had he been thinking attending Kelsey’s wedding?
Was he some kind of sicko masochist?
He’d given that woman some of the best months of his life—eight to be exact. They’d traveled. Done Branson, Missouri. Taken a fountain tour of Kansas City. No destination had been too much trouble. Shoot, he’d even driven her all the way to Fayetteville on a weeknight just to see Christmas lights on the square! He’d barbecued with her, made grilled cheese sandwiches for her when she’d broken her pinkie finger. He’d changed her car’s oil. Driven her to work when she’d gotten that bogus new set of tires.
In short, he’d done everything for her.
And what had she done for him?
Gone off and married another man—one of his good friends, dammit. And then had the gall to invite him to the wedding!
Time for the truth yet, Wheeler? Or you gonna stay hitched to this pity train for the rest of your life?
He glared at the road winding its way through northwest Arkansas. At tender new leaves in the forest thick with maples and oaks and fading redbuds. At tender side-of-the-road grasses just tall enough to sway in his truck’s breeze.
By the end of next week, traffic would be bumper to bumper with RVs and minivans heading for the twice-annual War Eagle Craft Fair, but today, at least, the highway was deserted.
Just like him.
And that was how he liked it. He was a bachelor. The best of a dying breed. He was a downright professional single guy who’d long ago decided to be happy with his eternally single state.
Nope, no more moping for him.
Cruising past Judi Thompson’s place with her rows of hybrid irises looking like pastel Easter eggs fastened atop fragile green stems, he decided to be happy about spring. Not just spring, the season, but this newfound spring in his life.
His conscience snorted.
Good one, buddy. Mind B.S.ing your way back to the truth?
Noah pressed