Falling in Love on Willow Creek by Debbie Mason
Chapter Six
Sadie held her breath as she inched the yellow cottage door closed behind her, grimacing at what sounded to her like an overly loud click. A quick glance at her daughter revealed she remained asleep in her carrier. One hurdle down, about twenty-five to go, Sadie thought as she headed for her SUV parked on the gravel driveway.
Gently swinging the carrier, she looked across the dirt road to the woods beyond the meadow. It was a beautiful, warm spring morning under a bright, cloudless blue sky, the sweet scent of clover and the low buzz of bees filling the air. The idyllic scene made it easy to forget that just a week ago a body had been found in the woods. At the reminder, she turned and walked back up the stone path that meandered through what had once been a wildflower garden to the front door.
Gabe had stopped by earlier in the week to check on her. He’d reminded her to keep her door locked at all times. He’d questioned her too. Nothing that made her feel like she was a suspect, just that she may have witnessed something that would help their investigation into that poor man’s murder.
She was a little more honest with Gabe than she had been with Abby and Brooklyn about why she hadn’t seen or heard a single thing the night the man died. Not only because Gabe was chief of police but also because he’d raised three boys on his own when he’d lost his first wife, so he would understand the soul-crushing exhaustion that came with being a single parent.
What he didn’t seem to understand was why she had reservations about Project HOPE (Helping Offenders Pursue Excellence)—or, more to the point, using her grandmother’s store to kick off the program in Highland Falls. It wasn’t that Sadie was against an ex-offender getting a second chance, it was just that she’d prefer a business other than her grandmother’s provide it. Knowing Gabe had personally vetted the ex-offender didn’t make her feel any better. It should, but it didn’t. Her grandmother was too trusting for her own good. Case in point: Agnes’s inability to see past her own grandson’s boyish charm to his larcenous ways.
But apparently, Gabe had disregarded Sadie’s concerns, because Agnes had informed her that she had a new employee starting today. An employee who’d come highly recommended by none other than the chief of police. Of course her grandmother didn’t add that her highly recommended new employee’s most recent occupation had most likely been working in the prison library.
It showed just how concerned Sadie was that she risked Michaela waking up from a nap. Cat nap was a more apt name for what her daughter did, but those moments were more precious than gold and diamonds. Within that brief window of peace and quiet, Sadie was able to grab a shower and savor a mouthful of coffee. She measured her days in increments of twenty-minute naps, forty-five if she’d been especially blessed.
They were currently at the fifteen-minute mark. She glanced at her sleeping child, surprised as always at how utterly angelic Michaela looked while sleeping. Her mouth was a perfect rosebud, her cheeks sweetly rounded and pink, her soft curls as shiny and bright as a new copper penny.
Saying a silent prayer that Michaela’s pretty blue eyes remained closed for at least another twenty minutes, Sadie inserted the key into the cottage’s yellow door and slowly turned it, in hopes of avoiding the loud thunk of the tumblers locking into place.
Success. She smiled. Door successfully locked, and baby still asleep. It didn’t take much to make her happy these days. Although what she was feeling right now probably didn’t reach the level of happiness. Mildly relieved might be a more accurate description.
As she turned to walk to her car, a blast of gunfire rang out from the woods. Sadie gasped, dropping to a crouch. She curled over the carrier to protect Michaela. Black birds shot up from the tops of the trees, squawking their displeasure. Her daughter did the same.
“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” Rocking the carrier, she nuzzled Michaela’s soft cheek. Her soothing words and kisses did little to comfort her daughter. Over Michaela’s ear-piercing shrieks, Sadie listened for a return of gunfire.
Pretty sure that she hadn’t heard any, she cautiously lifted her head to search the tree line. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a ball cap ran backward from the woods. At the familiar sight of his sage-green park ranger uniform, she relaxed. He had a gun in his hand and didn’t appear injured.
When the park ranger took off his hat and dragged a hand through his dark blond hair instead of removing the radio off his belt or giving chase, Sadie slowly inched up.
“Hello!” she yelled to make herself heard over her daughter’s angry cries. The ranger straightened but didn’t respond or turn her way. She came to her feet, thinking her voice wasn’t projecting from that close to the ground. Maybe she should be more specific too. After all, she could be calling hello to anyone.
“Excuse me, sir? Mr. Park Ranger! Over here.”
He slowly turned.
Her heart skipped a beat when his face came into view. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, afraid the sun was messing with her vision, fooling her into believing the man of her dreams was slowly walking across the meadow toward her.
“Michael.” His name came out on a sob. It was him. It was really him. “Michael,” she cried again, louder this time.
He raised a hand, a half smile on his gorgeous face.
She grabbed the carrier’s handle and raced across the road with her crying child. She didn’t stop running until she reached him.
“It’s you. It’s really you,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his face. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed him, and she hadn’t realized how much until this very moment. “You left us!” she cried, throwing an arm around his neck.
Burying her face against his chest, she breathed him in. He smelled as incredible as she remembered—like warm amber and worn leather. She bit her lip, determined not to cry, but inside she wailed as loudly as her daughter. All her fears, the panic and insecurities that had been building inside her over the past three months, were seconds from pouring out of her. It was like she’d been walking on a tightrope across a gorge without a safety net, and now Michael was here to provide one.
He put his arm around her, his bicep flexing against her back. His chest was hard and muscled, his shirt warm and soft. “I’m sorry,” he said, his low voice rumbling against her cheek. “I, uh, thought I’d be in the way.”
He sounded uncomfortable, and why wouldn’t he be? He had an emotional woman he barely knew clinging to him as if he were the answer to her prayers. It didn’t matter that he kind of was. Michael Knight had no idea that, in her mind, he’d become her knight in shining armor. It didn’t matter that Eddie had been the one who’d actually delivered her daughter. Michael had won hero status and her undying gratitude the moment he’d attempted to re-create the spa-like atmosphere she’d dreamed of for her baby’s birth. And all the intimate moments during and after Michaela’s arrival. Sadie’s memories of that night were encased in a warm bubble of love and joy, in stark contrast to the reality of her past three months.
The weight of the carrier no longer pulled on her arm, and she panicked, thinking that, in her happiness at seeing Michael, at being held by him, she’d completely forgotten about the baby and…dropped her. But no, as she glanced down, she saw that Michael had taken the carrier from her and was gazing at her daughter with the same look of wonder she’d seen on his face the night she was born. That look right there, she thought, had been what had won her heart.
She reluctantly stepped back but couldn’t stop herself from keeping a hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers reassured her. This was real, not a figment of her imagination. He was here. She hadn’t completely lost her mind.
He stepped back, lifting the carrier so that her screaming child was eye level with him, dislodging Sadie’s hand from his chest in the process. She was tempted to cling to his shirt with the tips of her fingers but had enough self-respect left to let go.
“She’s beautiful,” he said in an awestruck voice, looking at Sadie with a tender smile that had absolutely nothing to do with her. He turned back to her daughter. “There now, don’t cry, sweetheart. That’s right. There’s a good girl,” he said, his voice so soothing even Sadie felt comforted.
She stared at her daughter, no doubt with a what the heck? expression on her face. Michaela had stopped screaming. She was utterly and completely silent, staring at the man who smiled at her like she was some miraculous little being. Michaela appeared mesmerized by his stunning good looks. Like mother, like daughter.
Michaela’s mouth trembled, and Sadie prepared herself for an eardrum-shattering scream. She was about to warn Michael to do the same, and then the inconceivable happened. Her daughter…smiled.
Michael’s smile grew, and so did Michaela’s. She looked like the sun had come out to shine down on her and her alone, a big, bright, gurgling smile on her face. Michael laughed, a delighted laugh, and her daughter did the same. The more he laughed, the more Michaela did, until her daughter was laughing so hard that she was hiccupping.
And right there, in the middle of the meadow on a picture-perfect spring day with the man she’d fancied herself in love with and her daughter who’d never smiled or laughed at her, Sadie broke down and cried.
Michael and Michaela stopped laughing to stare at her.
Sadie raised a hand. “Don’t mind me,” she mumbled through a mortified sob. “It’s just hormones. They’re all over the place.” Which she proved seconds later when her sobs turned into guffaws of laughter at her daughter’s and Michael’s wide-eyed expressions. They were looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Sorry.” She waved her hands in front of her face.
This time Michael’s tender smile was for her. “Don’t. I should be the one apologizing.” He took her hand. “The gunshot must have terrified both of you.”
“Right, the gunshot,” she said, with only a slight gurgle of laughter left in her voice. “What happened?”
“Snake. A really big snake,” he said, looking around the tall grass. He shuddered, his tender smile turning tense. “We should probably get out of here.”
“You shot a snake?”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded. “Don’t worry. It didn’t suffer. I shot it right between the eyes.”
“You shot a snake right between the eyes?”
“Yes. I’m an excellent shot.” He frowned. “You seem surprised.”
“Well, it’s just that your job is to protect wildlife, isn’t it?”
“Right, of course. Oh, I see what you’re getting at. But my job is also to protect humans. I think the snake had…rabies.”
“Snakes don’t get rabies,” she said as they reached the road. She’d grown up in these woods and had more than a passing knowledge about the wildlife that inhabited them.
“Right. Of course, I know that. Seeing you and the baby flustered me, I guess. I wasn’t thinking straight. I meant to say poisonous. The snake was poisonous.”
“Well, yes, we have six types of venomous snakes in the area, but they’re pro—”
He shot a horrified glance at the woods. “Six?”
“Michael, don’t be offended, but exactly how long have you been a park ranger?”
He lifted the carrier he’d been lightly swinging at his side to glance at his watch. “An hour and forty-five minutes and five seconds.”
“I suppose that explains it, but don’t you have to have some sort of training?”
“A valid driver’s license and a bachelor’s degree in natural sciences,” he said as they reached her driveway.
“And you have a bachelor’s degree in natural sciences?”
“No.” He took a deep breath, looking like he was weighing whether or not to tell her something. “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to share with you.”
“I promise. I won’t say anything.”
“I’m assistant to the director of the Fish and Wildlife Service in Washington, DC. I’m on assignment. An undercover assignment. I can’t tell you what it is, but it’s important.”
“And you’ve never had an up-close encounter with a snake before, have you?”
“Other than the snakes at my office? No.”
“So was that why you were in the woods on Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes. I’d come on a scouting expedition.” He glanced at her while setting the carrier on the hood of the SUV. “Do you mind if I take her out for a minute?”
“No, not at all.” She went to help him but he’d already figured out the finicky mechanism and was lifting her daughter into his arms.
“Look at you,” he said, cradling Michaela against his chest. “You’re so big now.” He smiled at Sadie. “She really is beautiful.”
“Now she is, and when she’s sleeping, which isn’t a lot.” Sadie leaned against the SUV beside Michael and stroked Michaela’s chubby leg. “That’s the first time I’ve seen her smile or laugh. She cries all the time, Michael. She hates me.”
He put his arm around her, tucking her against his side. “She doesn’t hate you. No one could hate you, Sadie Gray.” He kissed the top of her head and then frowned as if surprised at himself for doing so before continuing. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye. I was late for my flight back to DC.”
“You could have left me a note, a number.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the plaintive tone in her voice. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound needy. It’s just that you were with me on one of the scariest, most incredible nights of my life.” She lifted a shoulder instead of telling him how much that had meant to her, how much he meant to her.
“It meant something to me too, Sadie.” He opened his mouth and then closed it, a moment passing before he smiled at her and said, “It’s a night I won’t forget. And you don’t sound needy, you sound exhausted. How much sleep did you get last night?”
“Same as always. A couple of hours here and there. I think she has her nights and days mixed up. Not that she sleeps much in the…” She trailed off, looking at her daughter, who’d fallen asleep with her hand curled around Michael’s finger, a drooly smile on her face.
Sadie sighed. “Her name’s Michaela,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“You named her after me?” He looked stunned and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a little sad.
Of course he felt sorry for her. She was pathetic. She’d named her daughter after a man she barely knew, a man she wanted to wrap her arms around and never let go.