The Sheriff's 6-year-old Secret

“I feel like a teenager who’s about to be caught necking,”

Nathan whispered, chuckling softly as he helped Gwen straighten her blouse.

Gwen just smiled. He actually looked discomfited, and she thought that was too alluring for words.

At that moment she felt something happen inside her. A funny, heated hitch in her heart. Gwen had never been in love before. She’d never experienced the feeling of falling for a man. Of feeling as if she wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night with him…or maybe even the rest of her life with him. But if she had to hazard a guess…she’d have to say that the emotion humming through her was just that.

Love.

The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret

Donna Clayton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To the Delaware Moms

Thank you for your friendship and support

Books by Donna Clayton

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††The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret #1623

Silhouette Books

The Coltons

Close Proximity

DONNA CLAYTON

is the recipient of the Diamond Author Award for Literary Achievement 2000, as well as two Holt Medallions. She became a writer through her love of reading. As a child, she marveled at her ability to travel the world, experience swashbuckling adventures and meet amazingly bold and daring people without ever leaving the shade of the huge oak in her very own backyard. She takes great pride in knowing that, through her work, she provides her readers the chance to indulge in some purely selfish romantic entertainment.

One of her favorite pastimes is traveling. Her other interests include walking, reading, visiting with friends, teaching Sunday school, cooking and baking, and she still collects cookbooks, too. In fact, her house is overrun with them.

Please write to Donna care of Silhouette Books. She’d love to hear from you!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter One

The last thing Nathan Thunder needed was more trouble.

“Looks like more trouble is just what you’re in for, though.” His murmur held a distinct quality of resigned despair as he dropped the phone receiver into its cradle. He scrubbed at the back of his neck and then let his fingers worry back and forth across his jaw.

Having just stepped into the job of sheriff of Smoke Valley Reservation a few short weeks ago, he was doing all he could to unite his small staff into a team. He’d returned to the reservation after a long absence and now needed to spend loads of time allowing the residents to get to know him again. A law officer who didn’t have the respect and trust of the community couldn’t carry out his duties effectively.

Not that Nathan was an outsider, by any means. Yes, he’d left Smoke Valley more than ten years ago to attend the New York City Police Academy. He’d joined the NYPD and was proud of his distinguished career. But he’d been back to visit his friends and family on the rez many times. And he was back for good now. If truth be known, he was happy about the move, as well as relieved; this job seemed to have put his haunting fear to rest.

Oh, he was confident he could do a good job as sheriff—he’d unify his officers and garner the community’s trust. He was certain of it. He only wished that confidence extended itself to his personal life. Now that was where the real trouble lay: in his personal life. Namely, his daughter, Charity.

His daughter. He still couldn’t get over the astounding turn of events that had brought this child into his life just five short weeks ago.

When Nathan thought of little girls, he imagined sugar and spice and everything nice. Sweet smiles. Frilly dresses. Ballet lessons. Butterfly kisses. Now the Great Spirit above knew Nathan had no understanding whatsoever of children, but six-year-old Charity seemed to break every single label ever slapped on the female of the species. She had a rough-and-tumble attitude, an aversion to any clothing with even a hint of a ruffle and a speak-your-mind tongue that often had him at a loss for words.

Her wildness needed taming. And the short phone conversation he’d just had with the principal of the local elementary school only cemented the notion into his brain. It seemed his bruiser of a daughter had socked a fellow student during recess. On her first day in the first-grade class, no less.

He whistled, shaking his head. “What a way to make a first impression.”

After alerting the dispatcher of his plans, Nathan got into his car and drove the short distance to the school. He parked, cut the ignition and walked up the sidewalk. The closer he got to the doors, the more his feeling of doom increased. The heels of his shoes echoed in the wide, empty corridor as he searched for the first-grade classroom. Butterflies began to dance a jig in his stomach. Then suddenly he nearly chuckled out loud at himself. It was quite comical that he could calmly face down a fugitive with a deadly weapon, yet the idea of meeting with Charity’s teacher had him feeling tense and jittery.

The woman was turned away from him when he entered the classroom, but one look at the mass of flaming curls tumbling down her back, one glimpse of the lissome, curvy figure told him he’d already met Charity’s teacher.

In the line of duty.

Just as Gwen set the chalkboard eraser on the metal ledge, her skin tingled with the ingrained awareness that alerted her to someone’s presence behind her. She took a deep, steeling breath. The principal had set up this parent-teacher meeting for her. Not having spoken to Charity’s father herself, Gwen had no idea if the man would be rational and unruffled…or if she’d be facing a Brahma bull. As a teacher, she’d learned to expect the unexpected when it came to dealing with parents. All she’d been told was that he was coming.

Fixing a reassuring smile on her mouth, she turned. However, the sight of the police officer standing at the threshold of her classroom made her stomach turn queasy.

While growing up, she’d had quite a few experiences where the police showed up at her house. Each and every encounter had been frightening.

Her countenance fell and she had trouble drawing a breath.

His shoulders massive, the man seemed to fill the doorway. His face, with its classic Native American features, was handsome beyond belief and caused heat to curl inside her, but at the same time the implications of that olive-and-gray uniform, of that shiny metal badge on his chest, made her go cold all over. Like steam and ice—it was the oddest sensation she’d ever experienced.

The scariest thing about this moment, she realized, was that she recognized this man as the law officer who had lectured her brother soundly for shoplifting a candy bar just last week. It was strange that she’d been bombarded with the same hot-cold feeling then as she was now.

Thank heavens she’d been there in the store when the incident had occurred. She’d been in such a rush to pay for the candy her brother had slipped into his pocket that she’d spilled the entire contents of her purse on the wide wooden countertop. Keys, change, pictures, a tube of lipstick had all gone astray, bouncing and tumbling out of reach.

The fact that Brian had done such a thing had been bad enough. But when the policeman arrived, she’d gone all shaky inside. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. She’d been truly grateful that the store owner hadn’t pressed charges. And she’d been just as thankful that the officer had taken Brian aside and given him a good talking-to about the trouble he could get into by taking things that didn’t belong to him.

If the officer was showing up at her place of work, Brian must have done something horrendous. Her knees went wobbly as warm rubber.

“What’s he done now?” Trepidation made her voice raspy, and she barely made it to her chair in one piece. It felt as if all her joints had turned to rusty hinges from which the pins had been pulled. She was so glad the chair was already pulled out as she sank into it. “It must be bad if you’re coming to find me at school.”

Last week she’d been startled by how handsome the Kolheek officer was. His eyes were a deep, rich brown, his hair as black and shiny as a crow’s wing glinting in the sunshine. Parted in the middle, his hair feathered back away from his face, long enough that only the lobes of his ears were visible. His high, sharp cheekbones gave him a noble air. The sharp angle of his jaw had become even sharper, had taken on an extreme seriousness, and his dark eyes had intensified with a stern and steady stare as he’d chastised her brother outside the store.

Now, she saw, his face was just as gorgeous, his hair just as silky, but his mahogany gaze was soft with compassion.

“Hold on a second.”

His tone had gone just as gentle as his expression and he lifted his hand, palm outward, to her.

“I’m not here on business.”

Then his brow puckered and he became obviously flustered.

“Well…I am here on business but…what I mean is…”

Mild frustration made his expression rather comical, and if Gwen hadn’t been so upset by the sight of him, intimidated by his presence and that uniform, she’d have smiled. But the present situation with her brother was too overwhelming for her to see any humor in having a police officer show up at her place of employment.

She was so scared for her brother that she found herself unable to speak.

“I’m not here on police business,” he rushed to add.

Gwen felt her lips form a silent “Oh,” and she nodded. She let out her breath, not realizing before this moment that she’d been holding it.

“So if you’re not here about Brian, Officer—” her voice was still raspy “—I’m afraid I’m confused. What can I do for you?” Glancing at her wristwatch, she said, “I don’t have much time to give you right now. You see, I’m expecting a parent—”

“I’m the expectant parent.”

He shook his head when he realized what he’d said. Tipping up his chin, he tried again, “I’m the expecting parent.” The sigh he heaved was filled to the brim with aggravation. “I’m the parent you’re expecting.”

The relief that flooded through her was dizzying. She wanted to let out a sigh, so happy was she to discover that he wasn’t there about Brian. However, in the same instant, she was acutely cognizant of how flustered he was. It seemed as though he was as thrown off by their sudden reacquaintance as she.

He chuckled, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “I’m not a complete and utter idiot, I assure you. And I do have a full working knowledge of the English language. I’m just a little nervous about…” He let the rest of his sentence fade.

She realized then that it wasn’t seeing her again that had him in such a tizzy, it was the occasion. This was probably his first parent-teacher meeting.

“You’re Charity Thunder’s father.” It was more a statement than a question, but she wanted him to know she finally was clear about who he was and what he was doing here.

Now that the situation had become a little less tangled, she felt it was her obligation to gather her wits about her and put on a professional face. However, the blatant fact that he was the cop who had chewed out her brother for breaking the law was enough to instill a hefty amount of awkwardness in her.

“Yes.” He seemed relieved to have his identity straightened out. “And I want you to know right off I don’t condone hitting. I apologize for Charity’s behavior.” He looked around the classroom. “Where is she, by the way? I thought she’d be here. I’m more than happy to show her that you and I are a united front against this kind of behavior.”

Gwen felt herself relax. She was pleased to realize this was one parent she wasn’t going to have to argue with about a student’s conduct. So often parents were unwilling to recognize or admit when their children were in the wrong.

“Charity’s with Principal Halley,” she told him. “I thought, since we didn’t get a chance to meet before school started, that today would be a good time for us to sit and chat.”

He nodded. “Well, just so you know, my daughter’s going to get an earful from me on the subject of hitting her fellow students.”

“Oh, now,” she said softly, “I think Charity realizes that she made a mistake.”

Sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off his badge. She thought it ironic that just last week this man had had to reprimand her brother and today she’d corrected his daughter. The idea made her a little uncomfortable, as if she and this stranger had too much of a hand in each other’s personal lives.

But that’s silly, she thought. After all, they were only doing their jobs.

However, something akin to intuition—no, something more astute than mere intuition, something souldeep—told her this meeting, this man, would mean something significant to her.

Oh, come on now, girl, she silently chastised. You’ve been spending too much time reading about Kolheek mysticism.

After a couple of seconds that seemed positively charged with the uneasiness that pulsed through her, she motioned to him with a wave of her hand. “Come on in and have a seat. Let’s talk.”

The only chairs available, other than her own, were built especially for pint-size, six-year-old bodies. He straddled one of the small seats and attempted to lower himself into it. He was a big man, and the honed bulk of him made the chair seem even smaller than it already was.

“I’m sorry about the seating,” she said, automatically rising and coming around her desk. “But this is all I have to offer.”

“It’s fine.”

But it was obvious to her that, with his knees bent up around his shoulders, he was surely in a most uncomfortable position. The situation was not fine and he was too polite to say so.

“How about if we just sit on the desks?” she offered.

His handsome face took on a look of incredible gratitude at the suggestion. She slid onto the top of the wooden desk that was closest to her. The officer—she still couldn’t get over how unsettled she was by that uniform—straightened his contorted posture and sat down on a neighboring desktop.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much.”

She forced herself to smile. “Good. Now that I know who you are, let me introduce myself.” She reached her hand out to him, and when he took it, the heat of him shocked her, short-circuited her thoughts, and for a second she couldn’t remember her own name.

“Gwen.” The word finally burst from her tongue. “Gwen Fleming.” She pumped his hand, drawing in a huge gulp of air, hoping to calm the astonishing riot going on inside her. “I’m Charity’s teacher.”

“And I’m her father, Nathan Thunder,” he provided.

He pressed his free hand against the back of hers, enveloping her in a blanket of feverish warmth.

“It’s good to meet you.” His mouth widened with sincerity.

Gwen felt hot. Cold. Panicked. If she didn’t sever contact with him soon, perspiration would surely break out across her brow. What in heaven’s name had gotten into her?

He released her hand, leaned back a bit and hitched his left ankle over his right knee. His fingers curled nonchalantly around his shin and Gwen couldn’t help but notice the tapered length of them. She wondered how they’d feel caressing her cheek.

She stifled her gasping reaction to the totally shocking thought. Her eyes widened. Something was really wrong here. A notion as strange as that one shouldn’t be in her head. This man was the parent of one of her students.

“I know that Charity missed—”

Her gaze seemed to take on a life all its own as it settled on his lips. She became mesmerized by the way his sexy mouth formed words.

“—the first few days of school—”

The bow centering his top lip with its two perfect points was so…attractive. How would it feel to gently drag her tongue across its surface? What would his mouth taste like against her own?

“—what with the testing Principal Halley insisted on.”

Gwen blinked. Dragging her tongue across his lip? Tasting his mouth? Had she totally lost her mind? Then other questions rolled through her head. Missed days? Testing? Oh, Lord. What in the world had he been talking about?

“I do understand the need for the tests, though,” Nathan Thunder continued.

The man obviously hadn’t realized that Gwen’s sexual fantasies had made her temporarily check out of their conversation, and for that she was mightily grateful.

“As the principal explained,” he said, “since Charity didn’t attend kindergarten last year, it was necessary to see where she is, knowledge-wise, compared to the other students.”

He smiled again, and even though she knew perfectly well autumn had arrived, Gwen felt as if she’d been struck full in the face with the heat of the midsummer sun. She pressed her lips together and did her best to focus on the topic at hand.

Charity’s father continued, “I will admit that I’m happy she was placed with her peers, rather than put back with the five-year-olds.”

Gwen scrambled around in her thought processes until she was up to speed in this conversation. “W-well, Mr. Thunder, the tests showed your daughter met all the first-grade requirements,” she said.

“Nathan,” he said. “Please call me Nathan.”

Her smile was automatic. But her insides were nothing but chaos. “Only if you’ll call me Gwen.”

A look passed across his mahogany gaze, an unreadable expression that caused her spine to prickle with a needle-sharp sensation that had her feeling the need to arch her back like a cat. Her reaction to this man was terribly unprofessional. She’d better be careful.

“Even without the kindergarten experience—” she forced herself to ignore her physical reaction to him, to remain attentive to the discussion at hand “—Charity is on par with the average students in the class.”

His head bobbed slowly up and down. “I brought all this up because I’m wondering if the days she missed might have contributed to this, um…hitting incident. It seems to me that children form bonds very quickly. And with Charity not being here with the others for the first days of classes…”

“You’re right. Kids do connect almost instantly. They develop friendships, fashion allegiances, form hierarchies, no matter how hard we try to dissuade such behavior. However, they’re also very fickle creatures, switching alliances frequently.” Her mouth pulled wide with a grin. “I want you to know that—other than the recess incident—she did very well today at getting along with her classmates.”

“Well, is the little boy okay?” he asked. “The one she fought with?”

“He’s fine. I spoke with his mother when she picked him up from school just a bit ago. I explained everything.”

He looked so miserable that his daughter might have hurt a fellow student that Gwen’s heart went out to him. She felt it would help him immensely if she let him in on a big secret. “Truly, Mr. Thunder—”

“Nathan,” he reminded her.

“Nathan,” she repeated, “I have a sneaking suspicion that something good just might come out of all this.”

Apparent bewilderment made him frown. She glanced toward the door to make sure no one could overhear what she was about to reveal.

“You see, even after only a few days of school, Billy Whitefeather has shown a…well, a propensity toward bullying the other children. By defending herself, Charity has shown the rest of the class that they don’t have to be fearful of him.”

This information seemed to help smooth his brow a bit, and again, Gwen was acutely aware of how handsome the man was.

“But I did have to stress with Charity that hitting won’t be tolerated,” she went on, forcing herself to ignore the pleasant warmth the man caused to radiate throughout her entire body. “With what’s happening all over this country…there’s so much violence in our schools these days…and kids aren’t feeling safe…well, we’ve adopted a no-tolerance policy. And even though ninety-nine point nine percent of aggression won’t lead to anything more than name-calling and an occasional shove, we still have to take action. We still have to let the children know that violent behavior—in any form—is wrong. Charity seems to understand that.”

“Of course,” he told her. “And I agree wholeheartedly. You can rest assured that I’ll reiterate that with her on the way home.”

“And I want you to know,” Gwen continued, “I had a long discussion with Billy. I tried to make him understand that his actions and his words only aggravated the problem.”

Instigated them, really, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. As a teacher and responsible adult, she had to represent every single one of her students in the fairest way possible.

“Well, if I know Charity—” Nathan’s expression turned sheepish, and Gwen thought it terribly charming “—she probably gave Billy a few choice words of her own.” Amazement made his brows raise a fraction and he shook his head. “In the few weeks since this child entered my life, she’s proved to have a sharp tongue.”

“She does speak her mind, doesn’t she?” Gwen chuckled and suddenly remembered an encounter she’d had with the child. “In fact, she asked me first thing this morning if I forgot to brush my hair.”

His eyes went round with dismay and his mouth dropped open. He blurted, “Y-your hair is beautiful.”

Gwen knew he was only trying to make up for his daughter’s infraction, but the compliment had her blushing with pure pleasure even so.

Reaching out, she touched his sleeve reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t insulted. My students often comment about my unruly hair. I just explain that it’s hard to keep curls like mine under control.”

Suddenly she felt the need to reverse gears a step or two.

“If you don’t mind my asking—” absently she laced her fingers together and placed them in her lap “—what did you mean just now when you said in the few weeks since Charity entered your life?”

One of his muscular shoulders lifted in a shrug. “At the beginning of last month…I wasn’t even aware of Charity’s existence. You see, Charity’s mother and I dated for a while. A very short while. We broke up years ago and I never heard from the woman again. Until she had me contacted last month.”

“Had you contacted?” Gwen couldn’t hide her confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“She couldn’t call herself. Ellen was ill. Extremely ill.” His jaw tensed. “She was dying, actually. And she needed me to take Charity.”