“Is Super Sheriff home?” Megan looked up from her bowl of cereal. “I saw his truck out in the yard.”
Taking a glass from the cabinet, Julianna glanced over her shoulder. It was Saturday morning, but Tate’s job never ended. “He came in very late and needs to rest as long as he can before the office starts calling him, so please keep the TV down and be quiet.”
After three weeks of living with the county sheriff, Julianna never knew what time he’d come stumbling in the door, half-dead. Selfishly, she kept him awake awhile longer until they’d fall into exhausted sleep in each other’s arms. By morning, he’d be up and going again.
The town took advantage of him, that was clear, but he let them, believing he owed them that kind of devotion. She’d begun to resent, for his sake, the more senseless intrusions.
“We have a ball game tonight,” Megan said around a spoon of cereal. “I was hoping he’d have time to hit me some grounders. I suck at grounders.”
Julianna poured herself the usual juice, giving her daughter a wry look. “You do not suck at grounders. You just need practice. If Tate doesn’t have time, I’ll practice with you.”
Megan had been delighted when Tate had asked her to join his Little League team, the Warriors. Between that and her new school Megan had made friends. But most of all she seemed to bask in the extra attention Tate gave her.
“That’s okay, Mom. I’ll wait for Tate.” She pushed the cereal away, then downed the handful of pills Julianna had placed beside her bowl. “Could I take some weenies out for Pitstop? I’m training him.”
Taking the empty bowl to the sink, Julianna turned with a smile. The dogs had become Megan’s babies. “Training him for what?”
“To come and sit and fetch.” She pulled her blue Warriors cap onto her head and confided, “I think he has psychological problems and needs the extra attention.”
Laughter bubbled up in Julianna as Megan took two wieners from the fridge, then quietly let herself out the back door. The child was thriving here in the country, and Julianna knew part of the reason was Tate. As busy as he was, he always found time to spend with Megan.
Last Saturday afternoon he’d brought a little boy to the house, his pal in the Big Brothers program, but he’d included Megan in their activities. Together they’d tinkered with the old truck and shot baskets in the pleasant April weather while Julianna had cooked hamburgers on the grill.
Julianna thought of how easily she’d fallen back into the gentle routines of small-town life. She’d joined the health club for the work-out regimen essential to keeping her body in top form. She’d found a church to attend. And she’d even renewed some old acquaintances.
But in the back of her mind lurked the constant worry about finances. She belonged in California. She needed to be there working. What would she and Megan do if her career went south? When her father had died uninsured and in debt, she and her mom had lost everything. She couldn’t take the chance of that happening to Megan. But without this chance for Megan to be cured, none of that mattered in the least.
And to add to her concerns, every moment spent with the county sheriff threatened her resolve to keep her heart out of this marriage. Her thoughts went to the gorgeous man sleeping in the other room and a shiver of pure pleasure danced through her.
Outside, she heard Megan talking to the dogs, and from the bedroom came the sound of Tate moving around. Julianna looked at the clock. He’d had all of four hours of sleep.
With a shake of her head, she filled the coffeemaker and pushed the on button. Then she turned to the task of filling Megan’s weekly pill planner, carefully counting out the collection of pills that kept Megan alive.
“Morning.” The low, gravelly greeting sounded sexy with sleep.
Julianna turned and gave him a smile. “Good morning. You didn’t sleep long.”
“Long enough.”
Already showered and partially dressed, his standard uniform shirt hung open.
Nearly salivating at the sight of his smooth, muscular chest, Julianna turned back to the pill planner. “Coffee’s ready.”
She heard the clink of the carafe and the gurgle of coffee.
“What are you doing?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him leaning against the counter, his brows knit together in thought. He hadn’t been here the other times she’d filled the planner and she could see he was disturbed.
“Preparing Megan’s medications for the week.” Flipping the plastic lid, she tilted Wednesday’s slot toward him, displaying the pills for that one day.
“All those?” he asked in horror. “For one day?”
She shrugged. “You get used to it.”
His coffee cup clanked against the counter. “How?”
With a glance downward, she saw the pills as they must appear to him. The truth twisted and turned inside her. Grasping the edge of the counter with both hands, her shoulders slumped.
“That’s not true. You never grow accustomed to knowing a handful of pills is all that keeps your daughter alive. You never stop fearing the day when they no longer work or when the cancer returns. Every time I fill this container I thank God for the medication and pray for a miracle. Because that’s all we have left, Tate.” She tossed back her hair and stared out the window toward the skinny child patiently teaching the bird dog to sit. “That’s all we have left.”
Usually she didn’t let fear gain a foothold, but this morning, with her emotions already on edge over finances and her confused feelings for Tate, the terror pushed to the front, overwhelming her.
Hot tears spilled down Julianna’s cheeks and splashed onto the cool white cabinet. Dropping her head, she held back the sobs, refusing to let Tate see her distress. He hadn’t signed on for displays of wrenching emotion and she wouldn’t subject him to her anguish.
The soft pat of bare feet against tile warned her of his approach. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain control.
A pair of strong arms encircled her from behind, hugging her to his sturdy masculine chest. Compassion, thick and enticing, emanated from him.
“If I could take her illness into my bloodstream, I’d do it,” he said softly, his voice intense.
“I love her so much.” She began to cry softly.
Gently, holding her like a delicate doll, he rocked her from side to side. “We’re going to make her well,” he murmured against her ear. “We are. Together.”
Julianna drew strength from his persuasive words.
Turning, she slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his strong, steady heart. Tate McIntyre was a good man, full of compassion, a man who could never say no to a good cause. For a moment she wished things could be different. That she liked this town. That she wasn’t a slave to her lucrative career. And that Tate had married her for love, not altruism. But she knew better than to fantasize about what was happening here. They had a bargain, not a real marriage.
“You must think I’m such a crybaby.” She sniffed and tried to pull away with a shaky laugh. “I’ve cried more in the last few weeks than I have in years.”
Refusing to let go, Tate pulled her closer, the scent of his shower soap pleasant, strengthening somehow.
“You’re anything but a crybaby.” He tilted her face up to meet his green gaze. “You’ve fought this battle like a lone tigress, but right now you have me. And we’re fighting it together.” Julianna’s heart lurched at the determination in him. “By all that’s holy, Julee, we are going to win. Do you hear me? With our help, Megan is going to beat this thing.”
To seal his promise, Tate kissed her, his coffee-warmed mouth covering hers in the sweetest caress.
When he drew back with a soft smile, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand, Julianna felt enormously encouraged.
“You’re right. We are going to win. And I don’t know how to thank you for giving her this chance.”
“She’s my daughter, too.”
He’d never questioned that, and she loved him for it. In fact, if she wasn’t very careful she could love a lot of things about Super Sheriff, as Megan called him. Tate had changed for the better.
“You’ve turned your life upside down for us.”
“The two of you make it easy. Now, come sit down and tell me your plans for today,” he said, tugging at her hand.
Julianna knew he was trying to take her mind off her worries and she was grateful, though she yearned to curve back into him and draw from his solid strength a little longer.
She settled into the chair he pulled out. Talking to Tate about the mundane day-to-day activities had become a routine—a dangerously wifely routine.
“Nothing special. Megan wants to swim at the club while I work out and I told Pastor Warick we would help organize donations for the spring bazaars.”
“I guess you miss your big church in L.A.”
“Certainly,” she admitted. “But this one is very…warm, friendly. I like it.” A fact that surprised her no end.
She opened the newspaper to the ad section and picked up her scissors.
“What are you doing?”
“Clipping coupons. Here’s one for shampoo.” She tapped her fingernail against the paper. “A dollar off.”
Tate looked at her curiously. “Why are you clipping coupons?”
“A penny saved is a penny earned.” She tried to laugh off the implication that someone like her shouldn’t worry so much about money.
“You don’t need to do that. I can pay for our groceries.”
Before she could argue the point, the telephone jangled. Julianna answered.
“Yes. He’s here.” With a resentful sigh, she tilted the phone toward Tate. He spoke briefly, then hung up.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You have to go.”
“Yeah.” He began buttoning his shirt.
“You’re tired, Tate. Can’t you stay home and rest one day?” Dear heavens, she sounded like a nagging wife. “I hate seeing you exhausted all the time, and the town never seems to notice.”
They expected him to do everything for everybody. Super Sheriff, indeed!
“Not this day. One of the deputies called in sick and the Neighborhood Watch meets at noon.”
“And if you miss one civic meeting they’ll boot you out of office?”
“Maybe. This is an election year.” Downing his coffee, he rose. “Why don’t you and Megan have lunch with me?”
Though her brain flashed a warning sign, Julianna couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Will you have time?”
“I’ll make time. You can go to the meeting with me.” He paused, his green eyes roving over her in a manner that made her stomach tingle. “Give me a chance to show you off some more. Not every man in Blackwood, Oklahoma, is married to the prettiest pair of legs in the country.”
Using one of those legs, she kicked out at him playfully, but her question was deadly serious. “So that’s what you think of me, huh? A pair of legs?”
She was fishing and she knew it, the old insecurity rearing its ugly head.
Tate leaned toward her and, in a sexy drawl, replied, “The rest of the world gets your legs. I get everything else.”
Gripping the chair arms, he leaned down and pecked her on the lips. Then he winked and, with a jaunty stride, headed out the back door.
Stunned and unaccountably pleased, Julianna followed him to the door, then watched the tall, handsome sheriff swing up into his SUV.
The former bad boy with the chip on his shoulder hadn’t wanted a wife, but he’d determined to make the best of the situation. And so had she.
The caution light in her brain flashed to red alert.
Julianna stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. Nervous excitement danced in her stomach. Something else danced in her stomach, too. Something wonderful.
The soft rumble of Tate’s gravelly voice came from somewhere in the back of the house. The jitterbug of excitement intensified. After two months of disappointments, she’d waited four extra days to be certain this was no false alarm, but tonight she’d tell him.
She hadn’t heard him come in, but then she hadn’t expected him this early. It was only nine-fifteen. Though since school had dismissed for the summer, he’d taken to arriving home a little earlier each night, relishing his role as Megan’s dad.
Giving a final pull of the comb through her wet hair, she followed the sound to her daughter’s room where the sweetest picture awaited her. Tate and Megan propped up side by side on the bed, both dark heads bent over a book. Megan’s hand lay trustingly on Tate’s shoulder as he read from Black Beauty.
Megan looked up with a delighted smile. “Hey, Mama, Super Sheriff is an awesome reader! He does voices and everything.”
Tate made a mock swat at the child with the book. “Don’t be telling your mother that. She’ll expect me to read to her.”
Julianna’s heart did another jitterbug. In the short time they’d been together, father and daughter had bonded. Tate had taught Megan to shoot lay-ups, to field a baseball and the proper way to plant watermelon. And on those dreaded days when she’d been to the clinic and come home exhausted, he’d patiently sit at the table or in her room and play game after game of rummy or Nintendo. More than once Julianna found them drawing pictures together, and the unexpected burst of happiness staggered her.
“You’re so silly.” Megan clapped a small hand to her mouth, giggling. “I’m glad you married us. Aren’t you, Mama?”
Maybe she was glad. And the notion scared her tremendously. She could not fall in love with Tate again. He didn’t want that and neither did she. She needed to get back to California, back to work. Megan’s astronomical medical bills meant a pressing need for more jobs, not less.
She’d already missed out on an assignment that would have paid well. That was money they needed. And she worried constantly that the agency would tire of waiting for her. If that happened, she had no education, no other skills or resources to fall back on. And then what would happen to Megan? Though Tate expected to help with costs, his salary couldn’t come close to covering expenses.
And now with the new baby would come new expenses. Instinctively, her hand went to her stomach. A new baby. She prayed it was true. She wanted this child so much, not just for Megan, but for herself. The anticipation of carrying another child, hers and Tate’s, beneath her heart took her breath away.
Tate cut a glance toward Julianna, then back to Megan. “She’d better be glad I married her. Who else would put up with a woman that ugly?” His voice dropped to a stage whisper. “And she snores, too.”
Megan squealed with laughter. “She does not! Do you, Mama?”
Julianna managed a smile. When she didn’t join in the fun, Tate laid the book aside and sat up. “Something bothering you, Julee?”
She shook her head. “No. Everything is…fine.”
Bending, he placed a kiss on Megan’s forehead. “Goodnight, Miss America. Time for you and Black Beauty to take a rest.”
“Night, Super Sheriff.” Megan slithered under the sheet. “Will you teach me that card trick tomorrow? I want to try it on Carly.”
Tate tugged the sheet up to her chin. “You bet.”
With one last look at his child, Tate clicked off the light and followed Julianna out of the room.
“What’s wrong?” he asked abruptly when they’d barely gotten into the living room. “You’re not yourself.”
“I—” Butterflies moved from her stomach to her throat and threatened to choke her. Would he be as thrilled as she was? Or only relieved that he’d done his duty? Somehow, their lovemaking seemed so much more than duty to Julianna.
Frowning, he gripped her shoulders with both hands. “What is it? Was something wrong with Megan’s blood tests last week? Is that it?” Anxiety filled his voice. “Is she sick again?”
“No, no. It’s good news.” She gave a little laugh. “At least it’s the news we’ve been waiting for.”
Tate’s strong hands relaxed on her shoulders. Smart and instinctive, he caught her meaning immediately. His face lit up in wonder. “Are you pregnant?”
She nodded. “The home pregnancy test says I am.”
The wonder of it, the joy of having another child to love and cherish thrilled her beyond comprehension.
The air buzzed with electricity while Tate absorbed the news.
“Julee,” he breathed in stunned awe. “Oh, my God. A baby. We’ve made a baby.” In the next instant, she was picked up and whirled around in a wild dance of pure exultation. “We did it, Julee. We did it.”
His laughter was full-hearted and joyous, like a child’s on Christmas morning. He reacted as though they were in love, a real married couple who longed for a child together. Julianna allowed herself to bask in the glorious celebration.
When Tate at last eased her back to earth she remained in the circle of his arms, cocooned in the special moment. He cupped her face in his hands, his expression incredibly tender.
“Pretty woman,” his mouth whispered over hers. “Beautiful babies.”
Then, he did an amazing thing. Tate McIntyre, bad knee and all, swept her up into his arms as easily as he would have Megan, and carried her to their room for the best celebration possible.
Another part of him was lost. If Tate admitted the truth, he’d lost himself entirely this time. There was nothing left that belonged to him. He should feel like an empty shell by now, but he didn’t. And that’s what scared him most. The more he gave of himself, the more fulfilled he became. Sharing his life with Julee made him whole in a way he’d never experienced. Loving Julee while knowing he couldn’t keep her shook him to the core.
Criminy. His chest rose and fell in a sigh of resignation. He loved her, always had. But if she found out, she’d run back to California so fast he’d have to fight to see his children.
His children. Unbelievable joy spread through him warmer than cocoa on a winter’s night. He was a daddy, twice over. Children he wanted with all his heart and soul. And a woman he wanted just as much.
Trailing his fingers over the sleeping Julee’s silken shoulder, he sighed again. He was in for killer pain. A shudder of foreboding rippled through him. The suffering of ten years ago would be nothing compared to this time.