sighed. That sounded about right. “Where is he now?”
Tuck shook his head. “I don’t know. But I thought you might want a heads-up. He looks just the same—a bit older, maybe.”
Tuck would know. He and Mike had gone to high school together and joined the sheriff’s department in the same year. He was well aware of Mike’s family, especially his father.
Mike didn’t answer, forcing the anger back down. His father had been a real piece of work when Mike was growing up. He was a mean drunk and he was drunk a lot of the time. Mike didn’t have many happy family memories after his mother died. The day his father skipped the county was a good day in his books.
“He told me to give you a message.”
Mike raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “Oh?”
“He said to tell you that he’s home. That’s all.”
“For good?” Mike frowned.
“He didn’t say. I couldn’t hold him. He hadn’t done anything. In fact, he pulled an underage kid out of the bar when a fight broke out.”
Mike sighed. He hated it when his father did something honorable. It made it harder to mentally file him away.
“He hasn’t contacted you?” Tuck pressed.
“Nope. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Do you think he heard about your cousin’s daughter?”
Mike shrugged. “I have no idea, but my dad hasn’t had any use for me in ten years, so I highly doubt he’s back for a heartwarming reunion.”
Tuck shrugged. “Just passing along the message.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He pushed his rising discomfort down and focused on the paperwork in front of him. This was precisely why he was at the station—to bury himself in work. He had a feeling that whether he wanted it to or not, his life was about to tip upside down.
* * *
MALORY PUT THE LAST of the dishes into the dishwasher and closed it. Upstairs, Katy was already in bed for the night, her hair damp from her bath and her bear clutched in her arms. She’d refused to have her hair combed, and Malory hadn’t pressed the point. She’d fallen asleep almost immediately after Malory kissed her good-night, the exhaustion of the past few days catching up with her.
Outside the kitchen window, the evening sunlight slanted low and golden across the backyard. The oak tree cast a long shadow, leaves rustling in the warm summer wind. This was the kind of backyard that begged for a tire swing or sandbox.
The front door opened, then banged shut again, and Malory turned to see Mike ambling into the kitchen. He held a pizza box in one hand, balanced easily on his fingertips. His broad chest tapered down to a tight waist, circled by the heavy belt of his uniform. The badge glinted against his neatly ironed shirt in the soft light of the kitchen, and Malory had to glance away, afraid to seem unprofessional admiring her boss’s physique.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, sliding the pizza onto the counter.
“Katy’s already in bed,” she replied. “We had some grilled cheese for supper.”
“So not hungry?” He flipped open the lid to reveal a piping-hot pepperoni pie, crispy, greasy pepperoni slices buried in oozing mozzarella. She was always hungry these days, and she shot him a grin.
“Well, if you put it that way,” she said. “I wouldn’t turn it down.”
Mike went to the cupboard and returned with two plates. “I hope you didn’t mind me going to the station today.”
“That’s all right.”
“I thought it would be easier to have me out of the way.” He smiled uncertainly and pulled a piece of pizza from the rest of the pie, strings of cheese stretching to his plate. “Dig in.”
Malory followed suit, and after a big bite, she said, “I don’t need you out of the way, you know.”
“No? She seems happy with you.”
“My job is to help with child care. I do all the things you can’t do while you’re working, but I shouldn’t be taking over your role as her parent.”
“I’m not her father. I’m her second cousin,” he replied.
“And I’m not her mother. I’m paid to be here,” she countered. “You’re the closest thing she has to a dad right now.”
His dark eyes met hers for the first time. Then his gaze flickered toward the window. “I’m afraid to let her get attached to me.”
“Children need to bond to someone,” she replied quietly.
“She’s bonding to you.”
“Yes.” Malory sighed. She knew what he wanted—for her to take care of the emotional needs of the child so that when he had to let go of her, it would hurt less. She understood, even if she completely disagreed. “Kids need to know that they’re loved in the world, even if they have to say goodbye. Sometimes it’s good for them to see that they leave an empty space behind them and that it’s hard to let go of them.”
Mike didn’t answer for a moment, and she wondered if she’d overstepped. Then he sighed and met her gaze.
“I’m not great with kids.” His voice rumbled low. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You’ve already started.” She gave him a smile. “And you’re doing just fine.”
He snorted and took a bite of pizza. For a few minutes they focused on eating. Malory polished off three pieces before she started to slow down. She remembered her pregnant friends saying that the baby was hungry, and it had seemed like a silly cover for eating like a teenager again. But now she understood. She was famished in a way she’d never experienced before, and it sure did feel as if the baby inside her was calling the shots.
“So, tell me about you,” he said, changing the subject. “Are you from Montana?”
“No, I’m from Baltimore.” She popped a stray piece of pepperoni into her mouth.
“This is a long way from home, then.”
“Home is relative.” She shrugged, and when he cast her a curious look, she conceded, “My mom and I moved around a lot.”
“Army?” he asked.
“No, just...moving.” They’d moved for so many reasons. Once to get away from a boyfriend who wouldn’t accept that her mother was done with him. Several times they’d moved for promising new relationships that hadn’t turned out to be as great as they’d seemed. Malory didn’t like to talk about the hard times she and her mother had had together, so she just offered a wan smile.
“That sounds kind of tough.”
“It was, so I’ve got a soft spot for kids who need stability.” She took another piece of pizza and piled the strings of cheese back on top of the slice.
“So live-in positions must be hard. Can’t settle too long anywhere,” he commented.
“Well, like I said, I needed the change of scenery.” She shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, as an adult, I have control over my life. It’s an entirely different situation when you can choose to move instead of being dragged somewhere.”
He didn’t answer at first. His face was ruggedly handsome, his chin bristled with stubble. The lines around his dark eyes betrayed a sense of humor—the man had smiled a lot in his lifetime, even if he seemed serious now. He swallowed.
“I’ve lived in Hope since I was about ten,” he said. “I know pretty much everyone in this town—and