Читать книгу: «Her Honor-bound Lawman»
Emma didn’t know what her experience with men in the past had been.
Not much, apparently, because the doctor had told her she was still a virgin. Still, she suspected that Sheriff Tucker Malone was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. His brown hair was silver at the temples, but the strength and intensity in his dark eyes always awed her so much, her mouth went dry.
Ever since he’d taken her to the hospital, this…electricity crackled between them. Whenever she was close to him, she wanted to get closer. The golden sparks in his brown eyes now told her he might want that, too.
“Emma,” he said, his voice husky.
She was afraid to move, afraid to answer him, afraid he’d back away. So she just looked up at him, wanting something she couldn’t name, wanting to get to know him, wanting the man-woman connection she’d felt with him from the night they’d met….
Silhouette Romance’s
STORKVILLE, USA series—
THOSE MATCHMAKING BABIES by Marie Ferrarella (8/00, SR #1462)
HIS EXPECTANT NEIGHBOR by Susan Meier (9/00, SR #1468)
THE ACQUIRED BRIDE by Teresa Southwick (10/00, SR #1474)
HER HONOR-BOUND LAWMAN by Karen Rose Smith (11/00, SR #1480)
Dear Reader,
There’s something for everyone in a Silhouette Romance, be it moms (or daughters!) or women who’ve found—or who still seek!—that special man in their lives. Just revel in this month’s diverse offerings as we continue to celebrate Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary.
It’s last stop: STORKVILLE, USA, as Karen Rose Smith winds this adorable series to its dramatic conclusion. A virgin with amnesia finds shelter in the town sheriff’s home, but will she find lasting love with Her Honor-Bound Lawman? New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels brings her delightful trilogy THE CHANDLERS REQUEST…to an end with the sparkling bachelor-auction story Raffling Ryan. The Millionaire’s Waitress Wife becomes the latest of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES as Carolyn Zane’s much-loved miniseries continues.
In the second installment of Donna Clayton’s SINGLE DOCTOR DADS, The Doctor’s Medicine Woman holds the key to his adoption of twin Native American boys—and to his guarded heart. The Third Kiss is a charmer from Leanna Wilson—a must-read pretend engagement story! And a one-night marriage that began with “The Wedding March” leads to The Wedding Lullaby in Melissa McClone’s latest offering….
Next month, return to Romance for more of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES and SINGLE DOCTOR DADS, as well as the newest title in Sandra Steffen’s BACHELOR GULCH series!
Happy Reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Her Honor-Bound Lawman
Karen Rose Smith
MILLS & BOON
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To Jeanne Smith with thanks.
Author’s note:
Guardianship/custody proceedings have been adapted for purposes of the storyline.
Books by Karen Rose Smith
Silhouette Romance
*Adam’s Vow #1075
*Always Daddy #1102
*Shane’s Bride #1128
†Cowboy at the Wedding #1171
†Most Eligible Dad #1174
†A Groom and a Promise #1181
The Dad Who Saved Christmas #1267
‡Wealth, Power and a Proper Wife #1320
‡Love, Honor and a Pregnant Bride #1326
‡Promises, Pumpkins and Prince Charming #1332
The Night Before Baby #1348
‡Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding #1407
Just the Man She Needed #1434
Just the Husband She Chose #1455
Her Honor-Bound Lawman #1480
Silhouette Special Edition
Abigail and Mistletoe #930
The Sheriff’s Proposal #1074
Silhouette Books
Fortunes of Texas
Marry in Haste…
Previously published under the pseudonym Kari Sutherland
Silhouette Romance
Heartfire, Homefire #973
Silhouette Special Edition
Wish on the Moon #741
KAREN ROSE SMITH
lives in Pennsylvania with her husband of twenty-nine years. She believes in happily-ever-afters and enjoys writing about them. A former teacher, she now writes romances full-time. She likes to hear from readers, and they can write to her at: P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.
Storkville folks hardly remember the day the town bore another name—because the residents keep bearing bundles of joy! No longer known for its safe neighborhoods and idyllic landscape, Storkville is baby-bootie capital of the world! We even have a legend for the explosion of “uplets”—“When the stork visits, he bestows many bouncing bundles on those whose love is boundless!” Of course, some—Gertie Anderson—still insist a certain lemonade recipe, which is “guaranteed” to help along prospective mothers, is the real stork! But whether the little darlings come from the cabbage patch or the delivery room, Storkville folks never underestimate the beauty of holding a child—or the enchantment of first love and the wonder of second chances….
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Prologue
Sheriff Tucker Malone set down the sheaf of papers in his hand and pushed away from the desk in his office. Rising to his feet, he rolled his shoulders and went to stand at the window. He was too distracted to work, and the distraction was a woman named Emma.
Halloween night in Storkville, Nebraska, was usually quiet with only a few reports of pranks. He’d stayed late tonight in case he was needed. He’d stayed late tonight because he was unsettled by his reactions to a woman who couldn’t remember her own name. Fortunately she’d been wearing a necklace with “Emma” engraved on it. But that’s the only clue he’d had to begin his investigation.
Turning away from the window, he picked up the snapshot of her that lay on his desk. He’d taken it so he could fax it to surrounding towns. Certainly she belonged somewhere…to someone. A mugger had stolen her purse, as well as her overnight satchel, and with them anything that had identified her. No one in Storkville knew her. But she couldn’t have come too far. There had been no abandoned vehicles around the town. It was a mystery.
Her sparkling green eyes stared up at him from the photograph, and her curly, dark coppery-red hair surrounded her face like a soft cloud. Her skin was so delicate, her smile so sweet, and whenever he looked at her a protective urge surged through him….
Get a grip, he scolded himself. Find out who she is so you can send her back where she belongs.
She’d spent the last three days under his roof, and it was driving him crazy. For the past two months Emma had been staying with Gertie Anderson who had witnessed her mugging and fall. But when Gertie’s family had swept in from Sweden as an unexpected surprise, there hadn’t been room for Emma. Before Tucker’s better sense had caught his words, he’d offered her a room in his house.
Hoping Emma had turned in by now—it was almost eleven—he grabbed his leather bomber jacket from the old-fashioned clothes tree and snatched his Stetson from the rack on the wall. After he left his office, he stopped at an open doorway and bid Earl Grimes and Barry Sanchek a peaceful night.
The dispatcher, Cora Beth Harper, smiled at him as he passed her desk. “You’ve been putting in some long hours. Take care driving.” Cora Beth had coal black hair that Tucker suspected was helped by a bottle of dye. She was plump with a voice that could stay calm in any situation, and she liked to mother everyone.
“Page me if you need me,” he said as he usually did, and she nodded as he went out the door.
The Cedar County Sheriff’s Department’s black SUV sat at the curb. He pulled out the keys and pressed the remote to unlock it. As he climbed inside, he thought about the three years he’d lived in Storkville and the relative peace he’d found here. Taking a job as interim sheriff had probably saved his sanity as well as his career…although being sheriff in Storkville, Nebraska was a world away from being an undercover cop in Chicago. But the citizens of Storkville had liked the way he’d worked and elected him to a four-year term. This place, as well as his job, had given his life rhythm again and maybe even some meaning.
Streetlights illuminated residential areas as Tucker briefly cruised through them, making sure everything was quiet, everything was the way it should be, even though he realized that behind closed doors, sometimes nothing was the way it should be.
A short time later, he turned into the driveway to the garage attached to a two-story Colonial and pressed the remote for the double door. Now and then he still wondered why he’d bought a house this big. But it had been at a discount price because it needed fixing up. It had three bedrooms and a bath upstairs, a living room, large kitchen, and small den downstairs. And an unfinished basement.
It wasn’t as if he had dreams of a family in the future. He’d given up those fantasies when he’d signed his divorce papers. Actually, he’d given up those fantasies the night—
Cutting off the memories he wouldn’t tolerate, he pulled in beside his truck, lowered the garage door and climbed out of the SUV. When he opened the door leading down a short hall, he headed for the kitchen. The light was still burning over the sink. Emma must have left it on for him.
After he shrugged out of his jacket, he hung it on the peg on the wall, his hat on the rack atop it. As he strode into the kitchen, he heard a low noise—the murmur of the TV.
Apparently Emma hadn’t turned in yet.
The sound of Tucker’s SUV pulling into the driveway had alerted Emma to his return. He’d said he would be late. She’d decided to wait up for him, to spend a few minutes with one of the few people she felt familiar with. The bump on her head from her fall had wiped out her past, and she was struggling to deal with that. What if she never remembered? What if she had to just go on from here?
Aunt Gertie, Tucker, and the workers at the day-care center where she volunteered were the only people she knew in the world. When Tucker had offered her a room under his roof, she’d been reluctant to accept, but Aunt Gertie—as most of the town called her—had soothed Emma’s doubts with something she’d already known deep in her soul. Aunt Gertie had said, “Tucker Malone is the most honorable man I know. He’ll keep you safe, and he’ll do everything in his power to find out who you are.”
Hearing the garage door close, Emma took a deep breath. She didn’t know what her experience with men in the past had been. Not much, apparently, because after the doctor at the hospital had examined her, he’d told her she was still a virgin. Whatever it had been, she suspected Tucker Malone was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
She heard his boots on the linoleum in the kitchen. She heard him walk through the dining room. When he appeared in the doorway to the living room, her heart skipped a beat.
He was at least six-two, with dark brown hair, enhanced by a bit of silver at the temples, that skimmed the collar of his tan sheriff’s shirt. His shoulders were broad, and the dark brown stripe that went down the sides of his trousers emphasized his long legs. Her gaze met his. As always, the strength and intensity she found in his dark brown eyes awed her, so much so that her mouth went dry. She’d learned he was a man of few words most of the time. He’d checked on her often when she’d been at Aunt Gertie’s. Although she’d been under his roof for three days, she still didn’t know much about him.
His brows arched up now, and she knew it was an inquiry asking why she was still up.
She motioned to the two glasses she’d set on a tray on the dark pine coffee table and managed to find her voice. “I thought you might like some cider.”
Leaning against the doorway, not making a move to come sit beside her on the tan-and-green plaid sofa, he asked, “Did many kids come to the door for tricks or treats?”
“I gave out all of the candy and popcorn balls. But I have a few cookies left.” She gestured to the dish sitting between the glasses.
Tucker crossed to her slowly, and she saw his gaze linger on her hair, then pass down the emerald green sweater and slacks that she wore. Everything inside of her seemed to race, and she felt heat stain her cheeks. She fingered the necklace around her neck, the only proof of who she was.
“Did you make these?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded.
When he’d invited her to stay with him, she’d accepted under the terms that she would cook and clean house in exchange for board.
Tucker picked up one of the cookies and ate it. “I haven’t tasted a peanut butter cookie in years. They’re good, Emma.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, studying his expression, wondering if the faint lines around his eyes had come from happy or sad times. His face was rugged rather than handsome, his jaw strong, his beard shadow evident now, adding to his masculine appeal.
Tucker broke eye contact and took the remote control from her hand. His fingers brushed her palm, and the heat from their contact infused her whole body. When his arm brushed hers as he lowered the volume on the TV, Emma’s heart pounded. As she glanced at Tucker, she saw he was gazing at her. Ever since the night she’d been mugged and he’d taken her to the hospital, this…electricity had crackled between them. Whenever she was close to him, she wanted to get closer. The golden sparks in his brown eyes now told her he might want that, too.
“Emma,” he said, his voice husky.
She was afraid to move, afraid to answer him, afraid he’d back away. So she just looked up at him, wanting something she couldn’t name, wanting to get to know him, wanting the man-woman connection she’d felt with him from the night they’d met.
When he bent his head slowly, she guessed he was waiting for her to lean away. But she wasn’t going anywhere. His arm came around her as his lips brushed hers. The brushing became a meeting, the meeting became a hunger, the hunger became a kiss that made bells ring and the earth move. Emma didn’t know if she’d ever been kissed before, or what to do next, but her lips parted and Tucker’s tongue became masterful and possessive and demanding. She gave herself up to all of it, reveling in his need as well as hers, in something she imagined was desire but seemed like so much more.
Lost in Tucker Malone, Emma was excited by every new sensation until abruptly he pulled away.
In a terse voice, he said, “That was a mistake, Emma. It won’t happen again.”
It took her a few moments to realize the magic was gone and Tucker regretted what had happened. Still trembling, she didn’t want him to notice. She didn’t want him to see how he’d affected her. Because he was right. The kiss had been a mistake.
She couldn’t get involved with anyone until she remembered who she was.
Chapter One
When the extension in Tucker’s office rang midafternoon on November first, he picked up his phone. “Malone here.”
“Tucker? It’s Roy Compton over in Omaha.”
Roy was a detective in the Omaha police department. He was the man Tucker had notified in August to discuss Emma’s situation. Tucker’s heart pounded faster. “Do you have something for me?”
“Possibly. There’s a man here in Omaha who filed a report that his daughter’s missing. Her name was Emma and your Emma fits the description. The file’s been non-active because the report came in about six months ago after the father and daughter had a terrific argument. The girl moved out all of her possessions while he was at work. He doesn’t have a current picture of his daughter and the one you faxed me isn’t exactly clear. He says the hair looks the same. He’s real anxious to make this identification, Tucker. Do you think you could drive her down here this afternoon?”
Tucker knew all about missing someone, about having hope and losing it. He was sure Emma would be as anxious as this father to find out if she was his daughter or not.
Looking quickly over the papers and forms on his desk, he decided everything there could wait. “I’ll go talk to Emma, then give you a call to let you know when we’ll arrive.” One way or another they were going to settle this today. Emma needed answers to the questions in her life. And after that kiss last night that had disconcerted him more thoroughly than a kiss ever had…
Tucker finally admitted to himself that he had his own reasons for wanting Emma to figure out her identity. Last night’s kiss had been a monumental mistake. He’d given into an urge that he’d denied since long before his divorce. Actually the urge hadn’t been that strong until he’d met Emma, and last night…he’d felt the full effects of not having a woman in his bed for the past few years.
And Emma?
The stars in her eyes right after the kiss had told him he’d better get her out of his house as soon as possible.
Grabbing his hat and jacket, he headed for the parking lot.
As she had most days for the past two months, Emma was volunteering at the new day-care center that had opened next door to Gertie. Shortly after Gertie had taken Emma in, Emma had gotten restless and needed something productive to do. She’d volunteered to help at BabyCare. Everyone she came in contact with at the center commented on how good she was with the children, but she’d especially taken to the abandoned twins Sammy and Steffie, who’d been left at BabyCare a few days before Emma had been mugged.
Five minutes later, Tucker parked along the curb in front of BabyCare, climbed out, and ducked his head against the cold wind as he approached the wraparound porch. Hannah Caldwell owned BabyCare, a sprawling three-story Victorian house that had answered a very necessary need in Storkville for working parents who wanted a safe haven where their children could be cared for.
After he opened the heavy wood door, he peered into the room on his right. There were playpens and playmats and women caring for children as young as six months and as old as five years. Emma was sitting on the floor on a quilt with Hannah. They were stacking blocks with Sammy and Steffie who were about a year old. Tucker usually kept his distance from children, and Sammy and Steffie with their reddish-brown hair and big blue eyes were no exception.
Standing at a changing table folding towels, Gertie Anderson saw Tucker and came toward him with a grin. She was in her late sixties with silver hair and brown eyes. Petite enough to flitter here and there, she had more energy than most people younger than she was. Since she lived next door to BabyCare, she helped out often when she wasn’t riding around town in her motorized shopping cart. She’d been the first person to officially welcome Tucker to Storkville and had bought him a cup of coffee while she’d filled him in on the town and lots of its inhabitants. It hadn’t taken Tucker long at all to see she had a heart of gold.
Coming over and stopping in front of him, her white-and-black oxford shoes almost touched his boots. “Is this an official visit or a friendly one?”
“Official and friendly,” he replied. “I didn’t think I’d find you here with all that company of yours in town. Are they still staying until Christmas?”
Gertie eyed him and he knew he should have tried to make his question more subtle. “Is Emma getting in your way?”
In his way. That was an understatement. “I’m just afraid the gossips might start a few rumors.”
“That didn’t seem to be a consideration when you asked her to stay with you. Besides, everyone in this town knows you’re as upright as the Statue of Liberty. They also know Emma has no place to go and no one to turn to.” Gertie patted his arm. “You let me take care of the gossips. It’s been so long since my family and I were all under the same roof together, they might stay forever! My sisters and nieces and nephews talk long into the night. I’m having a good time, Tucker. Maybe you should stop worrying about Emma being under your roof and just enjoy having her there.”
“She might not be there much longer. I’ve gotten a lead.”
“What kind of lead?”
“I can’t say anything more till I talk with Emma. We have to drive to Omaha. Do you have enough help here that she can get away?”
“Sure we do. Penny Sue will be here shortly after school. Gwen’s here, too. She’s with the kids who are napping.” Penny Sue Lipton was a fifteen-year-old who helped out at the day-care center after school. Gwenyth Parker Crowe, who was Hannah’s cousin, was a relative newcomer to Storkville. She had married Ben Crowe a few weeks ago.
Emma’s laughter floated across the large room, and Tucker’s gaze went to her again. She was such a lovely woman, but so young, so vulnerable. Hannah, with her light brown hair, blocked Tucker’s line of vision for a moment as she stooped to pick up Sammy who had scrambled away from the quilt. When she caught him, he let out a squeal and wriggled away, heading toward Emma where Steffie was already sitting contentedly in her lap.
“I have a feeling about Emma and those twins,” Gertie said.
Tucker glanced at her. “What kind of feeling?”
She nodded toward them. “Hannah might have temporary custody, and she might be good with the babies, but you watch Sammy and Steffie with Emma. They act as if they’ve known her all their lives. I know she can’t be their mother, but there’s got to be some kind of connection.”
“I don’t know, Aunt Gertie. If this lead pans out, I don’t see how there can be a connection. Maybe we’ll have some answers by the end of the day.”
Tucker strode across the large room past giant balls and colorful toys, then past the low table where one of Hannah’s assistants sat with a group of children. He tried not to hear their chatter or laughter. Children reminded him of Chad, and memories of Chad reminded him he’d made mistakes in his life that were unforgivable.
Emma rose to her feet when she saw Tucker, holding Steffie in her arms. She was wearing a long red corduroy jumper with a white pullover underneath. Part of her curly hair was tied up in a ponytail while the rest hung silky, loose and free. He remembered the scent of her shampoo when he’d kissed her. He remembered the softness of her lips, the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose, her erotic sweetness….
Cutting off thoughts that had taken over his dreams and distracted him too many times to count today, he stopped with his boots at the edge of the quilt and nodded to Hannah. “I need to borrow Emma this afternoon. Aunt Gertie says you have enough help to manage.”
“Sure do. Full staff today.”
Steffie was looking up at Tucker curiously as if fascinated by his face or maybe his hat. She reached out her little arms to him and he took a step back.
“Tucker?” Emma asked him, studying him closely.
The little girl’s big blue eyes beseeched him to hold her. He couldn’t resist…and held his arms out, lifting her into them. She fingered the star on his shirt and then touched his cheek and smiled up at him like a little angel who’d dropped down from heaven. His heart ached and his chest tightened. The feel of her in his arms brought back so many memories—Chad laughing and squealing as Tucker tossed him up into the air, as he pushed him on the swing, as he read him a story at night. The pain of letting the memory surface was more than Tucker could take.
He handed Steffie back to Emma. “I got a call from a detective in Omaha. There’s a man there who’s looking for his daughter. Her name is Emma. The photo I faxed them didn’t come through clearly and he’d like to see you…meet you and determine if you’re his daughter.”
Emma’s face paled. “You want to leave now?”
“Yes. I’ll call him and tell him we’re on our way. Roy said the man was free anytime. I’ll meet you outside.”
Steffie’s arms tangled around Emma’s neck and the year-old laid her head on Emma’s shoulder. Emma smoothed the baby’s hair and lightly kissed her forehead. When she looked up, Tucker was already through the foyer and opening the outside door.
The sheriff was such an enigma to her. His reaction to Steffie just now…There’d been such pain in his eyes and then such longing before he’d guarded himself, before he’d put Steffie back in Emma’s arms.
Hannah had set Sammy in the playpen and a string of red, yellow and blue beads kept his attention for the moment. Hannah held her arms out to Steffie, and Steffie went reluctantly to the woman who’d been her primary caretaker for the past two months. “Good luck,” Hannah said to Emma.
“Thanks. I’m almost afraid to hope. I can come in tomorrow and help until my doctor’s appointment at three-thirty.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. It’s just a checkup. The neurologist wants to keep tabs on the headaches.”
“Have you had any lately?” Hannah asked, concerned.
“Not since that last flashback…if you could call it that.” She’d been here playing with Steffie and Sammy. All of a sudden, she’d had the vague memory of hanging baby clothes on a washline. Then she’d gotten a pounding headache. None of it made sense. If she was a virgin, she certainly didn’t have any children of her own. Maybe she’d worked for someone who’d had children.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said to Hannah as she brushed her hand tenderly once more over Steffie’s hair, then Sammy’s.
After Emma said goodbye to Aunt Gertie, she took her coat from the hall closet and went outside on the porch. Tucker was standing there waiting for her.
A few minutes later, he’d driven down Main Street past businesses and houses and finally fields when Emma asked, “What happened in there, Tucker?”
There was a pause. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“With Steffie. I noticed before when you came into the day-care center, you stayed away from the children.”
“You’re imagining things,” he said gruffly.
“I may have lost my memory, Tucker, but my eyesight is good. Don’t you like children?”
“Children are fine. I’m just not a…family man, that’s all.”
“Where is your family?” she probed, wanting to know more about him, wanting to know why he was so quiet sometimes, wanting to know why he was so strong.
“I don’t have any family.”
“Your parents are…gone?” she asked hesitantly.
He glanced at her and was silent for a few moments, but eventually answered, “My mother left my father and me when I was a kid. She didn’t like being married to a cop, and she wanted a different life than the one we had. She sent a few postcards and then we stopped hearing from her altogether.”
“And your dad?”
After a moment, he responded, “My dad died in the line of duty when I was at the police academy. I searched for my mother after that, found out she’d been in an automobile accident about three years before and didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry, Tucker.”
He shrugged. “Life goes on.”
That sounded a little too glib to her and didn’t explain how he’d reacted to the children. But she could see he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d been so kind to her, so protective since that night when he’d taken her to the hospital, that she didn’t want to pry where she shouldn’t. “Aunt Gertie told me you’ve lived in Storkville about three years. Where did you live before that?”
With a frown, he cast a quick glance at her. “Why all the questions, Emma?”
She fiddled with her seat belt. “I need something to concentrate on. I can’t just sit here wondering what’s going to happen when we get to Omaha.”
He blew out a breath. “I see. I should have figured that out. I thought you might be asking because—Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Before I moved to Storkville, I lived in Chicago.”
“You were a member of the police force there?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So why’d you come to Storkville?”
His jaw tensed for a moment, then he replied, “I needed a change, and Storkville certainly was that. You’ve heard how it got its name, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I don’t know how Gertie missed telling you that. Thirty-two years ago, a storm knocked out all the electricity in the town and there was a blackout that lasted quite a few days. Nine months later, a lot of babies were born. When the media in the surrounding areas heard about it, they dubbed the town Storkville. On the second year anniversary of the blackout, the town council officially renamed the town Storkville. Apparently there’s always been a lot of multiple births here. And Aunt Gertie gave the town its motto—When The Stork Visits Storkville, He Bestows Many Bouncing Bundles On Those Whose Love Is Boundless.”
“You sound as if you don’t believe that.”
“Some days I’m not sure what I believe.”
What had he seen, what had happened to persuade him to give up a life in Chicago and move here? But she knew he might not answer that question. So she asked another. “What made you become a police officer? Your dad?”
“I suppose. I said some days I don’t know what I believe, but that’s not quite true. My father taught me a code—a code of values, a code of behavior. He taught me right from wrong, and I saw him put it into practice. I never wanted to be anything else.”
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