Page 8 of Rancher to the Rescue

“No.” Prudence glanced at his ring finger, confirming what she already knew. He was single.

She redirected her gaze to the baby. More than a smidge of satisfaction filled her that the bundle in her arms was soundly, sweetly sleeping. Content. When was the last time Prudence had felt the same way?

Too long, a little voice in the back of her mind pointed out.

Adam’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it and checked the screen. Her stomach picked that moment to growl louder than a hungry bear’s. She picked up the glass of water and downed its contents as embarrassment heated her cheeks.

“Sheriff Lawler is out front.” He made eye contact like he was looking for approval.

She nodded and smiled before he disappeared down the hallway.

When he returned, a man nearly as tall as Adam, who she recognized as the sheriff, entered the expansive kitchen. Height was where the similarities ended. Lawler was about as fair-skinned as they came, with ginger hair in a military cut. He had a hawk-like nose and compassionate honey-brown eyes along with a smattering of freckles across his face. He wore jeans, boots, and a tan shirt with the word Sheriff embroidered on the right front pocket.

“Ms. Owens,” Lawler said.

“Please, call me Prudence,” she said with that new boldness she felt.

“Okay, Prudence. How are you feeling?” He gave her a once-over like he was checking for blood stains or injuries.

“I’m not hurting anywhere,” she confessed.

“Can you tell me everything that happened in your own words?” Lawler asked as Adam motioned toward a chair on the opposite side of the table.

“While you two go over her story, I’m going to heat up dinner,” Adam said.

Prudence’s stomach groaned and she gave an awkward smile before turning to the sheriff, who’d taken a seat. “I’m afraid it won’t take long to tell you my side of the story.”

“Oh?” Lawler said.

“Like Adam said on the phone, I don’t remember much of what happened today. All I know is that I have this sweet baby and no idea where she came from or why I have her,” she admitted. “I have a dog-sitting job for the Fritzes while they’re on vacation. You know Henry, right?”

“He’s a sweetheart,” he agreed with a quick nod and a concerned look.

“I don’t remember anything but that I’m supposed to be looking after him,” Prudence said, her shoulders deflating. She couldn’t get over the fact it didn’t seem like anyone had reported the baby missing. “I was hoping you could tell us who this girl belongs to.”

“Tell him about the note,” Adam said from across the room. Whatever he was heating up smelled amazing. Or, maybe she was just that hungry. Either way, the minute she handed over the kiddo to her parents, Prudence was going to find something to eat. At this point, she’d take just about anything for how starved she was.

“I found a piece of paper with a name on it,” she glanced over at the island where they’d left the slip. “Adam Firebrand.”

Lawler cocked an eyebrow at the revelation.

“Do you have any idea why that would happen?” Lawler asked Adam.

He shook his head. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time and the last one ended with me on one knee and a door in my face.”

He’d pretty much sworn off relationships at that point. He was thirty-eight years old and single. And the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with had walked out easier than buttering toast. There was about as much fanfare, as well. No returned calls. Yes, he’d gone there. He’d gone down the path of needing a better explanation than the one she gave. I just don’t feel the same way anymore.

He’d left more texts than he cared to admit while nursing a broken heart. She’d made it clear. She was done. He should accept the fact. Did he, though? No.

He’d wallowed in his misery for months until he woke one morning clear as a bell. No more relationships, only great sex. Again, that annoying voice reminded him that he needed to get started on that. Truth be known, it had held little appeal. He could no longer find the motivation to have sex for the sake of it. He needed something more than physical chemistry, which he strangely felt more of with the woman in his kitchen than he cared to admit.

She had beautiful cobalt blue eyes behind those glasses. They were the kind of blue that was like looking into the depths of the lake, his favorite place.

“Sorry to dredge up the past,” Lawler started as Adam pulled out a plate of the best-tasting sour cream chicken enchiladas from the microwave.

Adam grabbed a fork and a paper towel before walking over to the table and placing the meal in front of Prudence. “Do you like enchiladas?”

“I love them and these smell amazing.” The way she said the word, love, stirred something deep in his chest. He convinced himself it was nothing but a bad memory despite how good it felt.