Anything For His Baby

Within minutes of the babysitter, a heavyset woman in her midfifties who’d promised she could handle anything after raising four boys on her own, leaving, Rosie had fallen asleep, cradled against his chest. Listening to her rhythmic breathing had Shep’s heart melting as quickly as a Popsicle on hot asphalt. Rosie was his alone, and he couldn’t keep putting her through the stress of new caregivers. Hell, it wasn’t as if this high-altitude town had an unending supply of Mary Poppins types anyway.

Where was stinkin’ Mary Poppins when he needed her?

Shep managed his way through the rest of the meeting with Bob, amazed at how much a person could accomplish one-handed and continually comforting a child. He had a new appreciation for his mother, who’d managed Shep and his twin brother, Cole, with the efficiency of a drill sergeant at the same time she showered them with constant affection. How had she done it?

He wished he could call her now, regretted that he hadn’t done more to show his appreciation and respect for everything she’d sacrificed as a mother. But he lost that chance and no amount of wishing would bring her back.

Clearly he couldn’t keep bringing Rosie to the construction site, even with the tiny safety helmet and noise cancelling headphones he’d ordered for her. Between the noise, the dust and the crew of men shouting to each other over the din of hammers and power tools, his little girl would be in a constant state of anxiety. He buckled her into her car seat and handed her a sippy cup of water from the diaper bag he’d packed that morning.

Shep Bennett, confirmed bachelor and consummate ladies’ man up until eight months ago, now filled his fridge with baby food instead of beer. He carried a diaper bag, albeit one that looked more like a backpack.

Rosie let out a sigh and gave him a wide smile, flashing all four of her newly sprouted top and bottom teeth. He hadn’t understood the term wrapped around her finger until he’d laid eyes on his daughter for the first time. In an instant he’d fallen fast and hard, knowing without question he’d sacrifice anything for her.

His entire life as it turned out. As he made the twenty-minute drive from the ski resort at the base of Crimson Mountain into downtown, he concentrated on the forest on either side of the road and the view of the valley below, dotted with farms and ranches and pockets of housing developments. Unlike nearby Aspen, Crimson still retained some of the spirit of the old West—quaint but slightly untamed.

Shep guessed that’s what had first attracted Cole to the area. Cole being here is what had brought Shep to Colorado, although he’d never admit that to his brother. He’d needed to get out of Los Angeles. The crowded, sprawling city of angels was not the place for Rosie.

He hadn’t spoken to Cole for seven years before arriving in Crimson a month ago. Instead Shep had relied on his twin’s innate good-naturedness to ensure that Cole would be willing to mend the chasm-size riff in their relationship once he knew about Rosie.

It probably helped that Cole was newly in love. Hell, Shep could have asked him for a kidney and Cole would have handed it over then gone right back to making cow eyes at Sienna Pierce, his beautiful and spirited fiancée.

He’d hoped the peaceful town would help Rosie begin to overcome the crippling shyness and mistrust of people that had landed her with Shep in the first place. Like he had a better idea than Monica, his ex-girlfriend, of how to manage a reticent baby. At least he wasn’t giving up or walking away. That had to count for something.

Downtown was bustling with people as he pulled to the curb around the corner from the little bakery where he and Cole were meeting for lunch. It gave him hope that his plan to renovate the ski area would pay off. The board of Trinity Development Company, the real estate corporation he headed, hadn’t been keen to venture from its usual projects of upscale resorts in urban markets to take on the reopening of an entire ski mountain. There were too many uncontrollable factors—weather and annual snowfall the two biggest—to make Crimson a sure thing. His board liked a sure thing and Shep had gotten good at delivering.

It was difficult to know whether his instinct on Crimson had more to do with the potential of the ski mountain or the potential to get some help with Rosie.

She looked up at him with those big blue eyes as he unstrapped her car seat. Faint shadows marred the soft skin under her eyes, and he hated how stressed she seemed at her young age. Maybe it had been a mistake to move her halfway across the country, but she hadn’t been any more content in LA and Shep had felt unable to devote the attention she needed with his California lifestyle. It might not be ideal to bring a baby near a construction site, but he was careful to keep her safe and away from where most of the actual work was taking place. Shep would never put his daughter in danger.

He picked her up, slammed the car door shut and shoved a few quarters into the meter.

“Buwrd,” Rosie said, pointing to a magpie keeping watch on the park across the street from a nearby lamppost. She grinned and squealed with delight when the bird spread its wings and swooped away. “Buwrd, Dada,” she shouted.

“Off to get lunch,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Just like us.”

“Mac-an,” she announced, clapping her hands. Thank heavens for macaroni and cheese, as it was one of the few foods his daughter would eat without coaxing.

“We’ll get you some mac and cheese,” he said, and was rewarded with a smacking kiss on the underside of his jaw. Oh, yeah. Wrapped around her finger tight.

A strand of bells rang cheerfully as he entered Life is Sweet bakery. He scanned the small crowd, then moved forward as Cole waved to him from a café table at the far end of the seating area.

His brother wore a tan shirt with a badge pinned just above his left breast pocket, darker pants and a holster around his waist. A Stetson sat on the table in front of him, and Cole looked every inch the upstanding Western lawman.

Which he was, Shep mused, long-simmering jealousy pricking at his spine. Cole had always been the good one—the golden child. It seemed to come so easy to him, the whole honorable deal, whereas Shep had chafed against his role as the “second son,” even if he’d been born a mere four minutes after his twin.

“Hey,” Cole said, moving his hat to the empty seat next to him. He shifted the high chair that had been pulled up to one side of the table. “Hi, Rosie. Are you ready for some lunch?”

As expected, Rosie tucked her face into the crook of Shep’s neck. “She can sit on my lap,” he told his brother, lowering himself into the metal chair across from Cole.

He looked down as Rosie shifted, glancing over at Cole then lowering her gaze. Cole and Shep were identical, so Rosie was slightly more comfortable with her uncle than with other adults.

To his credit, Cole didn’t push her to interact the way some people tried. “I can’t wait to eat,” he said with a gentle smile then turned his attention to Shep, his gaze sympathetic. “No babysitter today?”

Rosie stiffened. Merely hearing the dreaded word made her tense.

“Just me and my girl,” Shep said with false cheer. He rubbed a soothing hand over Rosie’s back. “We had a meeting at the ski resort today. Demo went well and they’re already starting framing. We should have plumbing, electrical and HVAC coming in next week.”

“Nice progress,” Cole said.

Shep laughed softly. “Rosie’s a hell of a taskmaster.”

Cole cringed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to swear in front of a kid.”

“Right,” Shep agreed with a sigh. He started to apologize to his toddler daughter only to realize her eyes had drifted shut. “Saved by the lack of nap schedule. Or any type of schedule for that matter.”

“It’s still bad?” Cole asked then glanced up as a pretty brunette approached the table.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to there being two of you in town,” Katie Crawford said with a wry grin. The bakery’s owner tipped her chin toward the gaggle of older women standing to one side of the counter. “Your weekly lunches are good for business, though. Normally the bridge ladies head over to the IHOP near the interstate.”

Shep felt his eyebrows furrow. “This is only the second time we’ve been here. I don’t think that counts as a weekly lunch.”

“Close enough,” Katie murmured. “And you brought your better half today.” She gingerly fingered the end of Rosie’s wispy hair. “Will she wake up to eat?”

“Maybe.” Honestly, Shep hoped not. Rosie needed sleep as badly as he did. “Can you bring a bowl of mac and cheese just in case?”

“Of course. And what can I get for the two of you?”

Cole and Shep ordered then Katie walked back toward the counter.

Shep took a long drink of the water Katie had left on the table. “It’s hard to believe everyone around here is so damn nice.”

Rosie twitched then settled against him again.

“Enough with the cursing around the baby,” Cole said, laughing softly. “Mom would skin you alive if she heard that.”

“Yeah.” Shep pressed two fingers to his forehead and sighed. Add cursing to the list of habits he needed to improve to be a decent father. “She would have loved Rosie,” he said softly.

“It broke her heart when you left.” Cole’s voice was strained.

“Don’t put that on me,” Shep shot back, forcing himself to remain calm so he wouldn’t wake his daughter. It was a challenge as a mix of guilt and anger rushed through him. This was the downside of being near Cole—the reminders of his mistakes and the pain he’d caused the people he loved the most.

Cole’s response to being hurt was to rise above it...to be the bigger man. Shep wanted to emotionally gut anyone who wronged him, and he didn’t care who ended up as collateral damage. In most cases, he’d done a bang-up job on that front, especially with his mother. But he wouldn’t take full blame.

“There wasn’t much left of her heart after Dad put that gun to his head,” he said, the words feeling even more like poison on his tongue while he held Rosie.

“She needed both of us.”

Shep barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you took care of her. You take care of everything. No one needs me if you’re around.”

“That’s not true,” Cole said, his mouth pulled tight.

“We both know it is,” Shep countered. “You were always number one.”

Cole opened his mouth to argue then shut it again. “I don’t want to have this conversation every time we’re together.”

They moved on to less contentious topics until Katie brought their food to the table, oblivious to or purposely ignoring the tension that crackled between them.

When she’d walked away again, Shep took a bite of his turkey sandwich, savoring the homemade bread and the tangy garlic mayo along with the thick cut of turkey breast. “Mine is better,” he said, lifting his sandwich in Cole’s direction.

“No way.” Cole picked up half of his chicken salad on wheat and placed it on Shep’s plate. “Try that.”

Suddenly the anger that had spiked in Shep seeped away, and he was back to every meal he’d ever eaten out with his brother. He handed his second half of sandwich to Cole. This was their routine. They ordered and then taunted the other with how much better their choice was. Then they traded portions.

Simple as that, and Shep realized how much he’d missed it. Ordering from a menu and being stuck with only one selection, even if it was great, was boring as hell.

“Turkey’s still better,” he said, taking a big bite of chicken salad. Behind him came the sound of giggling from the bridge brigade. He glanced over to see them staring. One of the women waggled her fingers, and Shep quickly turned his attention back to his plate.

“In your dreams,” Cole said.

Shep grinned. “Gonna eat that pickle?”

Cole handed over the spear. He’d always hated pickles. Shep wondered how many people knew that about the sheriff.

“Sienna isn’t happy with you,” Cole said after a moment. “She talked to Paige yesterday about The Bumblebee.”

“The Bumblebee,” Shep repeated, racking his brain what that name should mean to him. “The dilapidated house I bought?”

“It’s not exactly dilapidated,” Cole said, his tone back to brotherly chastising. “Paige Harper is Sienna’s best friend in Crimson. Paige is upset so now Sienna’s upset—”

“Which makes you upset,” Shep interrupted then snorted. “Come on, Cole. How whipped are you? That house is nothing. It’s a vintage eyesore.”

“It doesn’t work that way in small towns,” Cole said patiently. “Not in Crimson, anyway. People have strong ties here, Shep. You’re going to need to respect the town’s history and character as you move forward with your project. This isn’t California, and folks around here won’t take kindly to a stranger coming in and changing everything with no regard to what it means for the community.”

Shep felt his jaw tighten. He didn’t want to hear this. His job was to make money for Trinity, not to pussyfoot around the emotional whims of the town. He was here to open the ski resort, earn another feather for his cap then move on to whatever came next. Rosie yawned in his arms then blinked awake, her eyes lighting at the sight of the macaroni and cheese. Hopefully, what came next involved a full-time nanny. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You always did like to do things the hard way.” Cole pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. “I’ve got to get back. Bring Rosie over this weekend. Jase and Emily are coming for dinner on Saturday with Davey.”

“Great,” Shep said with fake enthusiasm. “Kids and babies. My favorite.”

“You’re the expert.” Cole got up and leaned forward as if to kiss Rosie’s head, then seemed to think better of it when she whimpered and shot him a death glare. “Shep Bennett, Mr. Mom. I wasn’t sure about you moving to Crimson, but the truth is I love having a front-row seat for this.”

“See ya, Uncle Cole.” Shep lifted Rosie’s chubby hand and waved it at his brother. “Don’t let the door hit you in the—” He stopped himself before swearing again then narrowed his eyes when Cole chuckled.

“See you this weekend.”

Shep’s phone rang and he checked the screen then stifled another curse when Rosie swatted at it, knocking the device from his hand. It clattered to the floor and a young man decked out in climbing gear at the table next to him bent to retrieve it.

“Dude,” the guy breathed. “Your screen shattered. Bummer.”

“Bummer,” Shep repeated, dragging in a deep breath. He wondered if he’d manage to make it to the weekend.

Chapter Three

Paige clicked off the television, her heart beating wildly as the knocking on the front door became more insistent.

The Bumblebee Bed-and-Breakfast was situated at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, the property surrounded by trees and set two hundred yards back from the road. It bordered Forest Service land on one side and the ski mountain sat beyond the yard out back.

Not that the remote location at the base of Crimson Mountain made her immune to trouble with her nearest neighbor. The Morrisons, who lived on the corner, lost their minds at the tiniest infraction of covenants or Crimson’s noise ordinance. Most recently, they’d called the cops when she and Sienna, who’d been the inn’s first and only guest so far, had a dance party one night after a pitcher of too-strong margaritas.

Paige couldn’t imagine them having a complaint with her tonight. Even with the windows open to let in the cool night breeze, noise from the television wouldn’t have drifted to their house. She’d replaced her porch light last week and pulled in the trash and recycling cans after the garbage men emptied them earlier.

There was nothing—

Was that a baby crying?

She stood, tossing aside the remote and heading for the front door. Before she started bingeing cop shows, back in the day when she missed almost an entire semester of high school because of chemo and radiation, she’d watched every movie of the week she could find on DVD. The abandoned baby, left on the doorstep...or dumpster...or near the bushes, was a classic trope in those flicks. It was difficult to imagine someone doing that now, but why else would she hear crying? It wasn’t the sound of a newborn, more of a child who was having a tantrum.

Paige opened the door to reveal Shep standing under her porch light, his daughter wailing in his arms. Rosie paused for a moment to glance at Paige, took a shuddery, hiccuping breath and then let out another sob.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, automatically stepping back to let the two of them into the house.

Shep’s normally full mouth tightened at the corners. “Nothing as far as I can tell. She usually only cries like this for the sitters, but tonight she woke up about an hour after I put her to bed. She started crying and hasn’t stopped since.” He shrugged. “The people next door called the landlord to complain. They were trying to sleep but the noise carries through the shared wall in the apartment.”

“Is she sick?” Paige asked, reaching out to press a hand to Rosie’s forehead. The girl screamed harder, if that was possible.

Shep shook his head. “No fever. No symptoms. She’s just upset. I don’t know what else to do.”

“So you came here?” Paige frowned. “Why?”

“Because she reached for you,” he said helplessly, bouncing Rosie. “July Fourth at the festival. She liked you. She doesn’t like anybody, and definitely not any of the nannies I’ve tried to hire. But she seemed to like you.”

“I don’t think she remembers,” Paige said mildly.

Shep closed his eyes, looking pained. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll drive her around until she falls asleep. She can’t stay awake forever.” He laughed, sounding a little hysterical to Paige. “Right?”

“Give her to me.” Paige held out her arms, belatedly remembering that she was wearing her rattiest flannel pajama bottoms, a thin T-shirt and no bra.

Shep stared at her chest for several long beats. She should be offended but it had been years since a man had taken an interest in her body. Shep definitely looked interested, which was saying something since he held a crying baby in his arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his face coloring. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s okay.”

Paige reached forward and plucked Rosie out of his arms, settling the screaming toddler on her hip before smoothing a finger across the girl’s dimpled cheek. “What’s the fuss about?” she asked, turning away from Shep and heading toward the hallway.

Rosie wailed, shoulders trembling as she drew in a shaky breath. “Your little throat is going to be raw with all that crying. Can you settle down for me?” Paige leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Rosie’s sweaty head. “Make me look good in front of your daddy, okay?”

Rosie kept crying, although it was softer now. Paige didn’t look back at Shep but continued to the kitchen, where she pulled a box of graham crackers off a shelf in the pantry. “How about a snack and then we’ll rock for a bit?” She talked to the girl in hushed tones as she opened the box and broke off a piece of graham cracker. Rosie took it and shoved it in her mouth, sucking hard.

Paige moved around the room, telling Rosie about her day—anything to distract the child—then pointing out architectural features of the house to the toddler and recounting the history that Paige loved so much about The Bumblebee. If Shep was listening, she wanted him to hear this. She needed him to understand why the inn was special, not just to her but to the town.

This wasn’t naiveté. She understood how change happened, how towns reinvented and rebuilt, but history mattered. The Bumblebee had been one of the first inns to open in Crimson, and she wouldn’t let the past be ignored.

Gnawing away on the graham cracker square, Rosie stopped sniffling and her breathing eventually returned to normal. She rested her head on Paige’s shoulder with a sigh.

The girl was precious, and Paige wondered again what caused her shyness and mood swings.

“You’re a miracle worker,” Shep murmured from directly behind her.

She turned to find him staring, gratitude and relief mixing in his eyes.

“Babies like me,” she said with a shrug. “Squirrels, too.”

Rosie jammed the last of the graham cracker into her mouth then reached for her father. Shep lifted her out of Paige’s arms with a gentle smile.

“Are you ready to head home, Rosie-girl?”

“No,” the girl said with a whimper.

“Stay for a bit,” Paige offered before Shep could argue with his daughter. She might not like Shep, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him when it was clear he was trying so hard to make things right for Rosie. “Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “A beer would be great.”

“There’s a comfy rocking chair in the family room,” Paige told him. “Rosie might like it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” he asked the toddler. “Are you ready to rock the night away?”

She giggled and nodded.

“Thank you,” Shep mouthed to Paige over Rosie’s head then turned and disappeared down the hall.

Paige pulled a beer from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one gulp.

Shep Bennett and his daughter as her late-night visitors. Who would believe it? She reminded herself that Shep was the enemy no matter how adorable and helpless he seemed as a father. Helpless like a lion in a flock of sheep. He wanted to bulldoze The Bumblebee, the place where all of Paige’s happiest childhood memories were housed. All he cared about was profit and easy access to the ski resort.

Shep didn’t care about Paige, even if the way he looked at her made her feel special. He probably turned that charming gaze on every woman he met. If life had taught Paige one glaring lesson, it was that the only time she’d been special was when she was sick. She couldn’t forget that because a desperate daddy made her feel important.

She carried the drinks into the family room, handed Shep the beer then took a seat on the sofa, pulling her unruly curls into a ponytail. Rosie had already fallen asleep, long eyelashes brushing her cheeks and her mouth open slightly.

“Mind if I give her a few more minutes?” Shep asked quietly. “She’s normally a great sleeper but after tonight, I’m gun-shy. If she wakes up when I transfer her to the car—”

“It’s fine.” Paige smiled, her body tingling at the intimacy of the moment. The two of them sharing a quiet interlude in her cozy house. She thumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. The house Shep had closed on today. He owned it now and could kick her out at any moment.

“Did the crying give you a headache?” One side of his mouth quirked. “Rosie has that effect on people.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” Paige countered. “I can’t figure out why she has such a problem with the babysitters you hire.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are hiring experienced babysitters, right? Not ex-strippers looking for an easier way to make some money?”

Shep took a pull from the beer bottle. “You think watching Rosie is easier than taking off your clothes while swinging your hips? That seems highly unlikely.”

“You forgot the pole.” Paige tipped her wineglass toward him. “I did a pole-dancing class once. It’s harder than it looks.”

Shep choked on the beer. “You pole dance?” He set down the beer to wipe his sleeve over his mouth.

“It was a bachelorette party for one of my college friends. I never really got the hang of it.”

“What a surprise.”

“Hey.” Paige frowned. “I let you in tonight and calmed your crying baby. Be nice.”

“You’re offended that I can’t picture you strutting your stuff on a stripper pole?”

He held up one finger. “Give me a second,” he whispered then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was humor and something else. Something that looked strangely like attraction. “Got the mental picture. I’ll tell you, darlin’, I have a great imagination.”