Anything for His Baby Read online

  Color rose to her cheeks under his scrutiny. They’d actually met—well, not met—but she’d seen him a couple of weeks ago at the Crimson July Fourth Festival. His twin brother, Cole, the town’s popular sheriff, had been in the hot seat in the dunk tank. Unfortunately for Cole, he’d also just broken the heart of Sienna Pierce, whom Paige had befriended when she’d come to Crimson.

  Ever the dutiful friend, Paige had been gamely trying to dunk Cole as a crowd, including Shep, watched. Shep’s young daughter had reached out to her, which wasn’t odd to Paige. Kids and animals tended to like her. She figured it had something to do with her size and the fact that she didn’t have a threatening bone in her body, no matter how much she wanted a few.

  “She seemed to like you at the festival, and Rosie normally hates everyone except me,” Shep told her.

  “Give her time,” Paige shot back then clasped a hand over her mouth. She might not like the guy, but it was wrong to insinuate his own daughter wouldn’t.

  He didn’t react or seem bothered by her rudeness, almost as if it was his due.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “she only came to live with me about seven months ago and she’s still crawling so it’s not like she can run away quite yet.”

  “I think you’re safe until she hits her teenage years,” Paige offered, still embarrassed by her outburst. “Even then most of the anger will be to test you.”

  He made a face. “I suck at tests, but man do I love that girl.”

  Something softened in him when he spoke about his daughter. Paige sucked in a breath as her chest squeezed. Was there anything more charming than a father smitten with his little girl? She forced her thoughts back to his plans for the inn.

  Temper swelled in her again like the strains of all the best Manilow ballads. That felt better. Smitten was not a word she wanted to associate with Shep Bennett.

  “Are we ready?” Lorena asked as she breezed back into the room.

  “Yeah,” Shep answered, running a hand through his hair.

  “You haven’t made it past the kitchen,” Paige offered, trying a new tack. Maybe if Shep saw how special The Bumblebee was he’d be more likely to let her continue with her plans for it. Or at least to rethink bulldozing it. That couldn’t happen. Not on Paige’s watch.

  “Don’t need to,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I told you why I’m buying the house.”

  “But—”

  “We need to go,” Lorena interrupted, stepping closer to Shep. Once again as if she were claiming him. Her behavior didn’t make sense. Paige certainly wasn’t some kind of threat or the type of woman who’d attract the attention of a man so clichéd tall, dark and handsome. “Please make sure you get to work, Paige. I don’t have time to deal with your silly games.”

  Paige heard a grinding sound and realized it was her back teeth. She unclenched her jaw and offered Lorena her sweetest smile. “I’d hate to waste your precious time.”

  Lorena nodded, oblivious to Paige’s sarcasm. “Good then. Shep, I told you I’d handle everything.” She gave him a sultry stare. “I’m a professional.”

  Paige choked out a laugh but covered it by coughing.

  “See you around, toddler whisperer,” Shep told her.

  Lorena shot him a questioning look at the words then shook her head and led him out the back door.

  It clicked shut and Paige felt her chest rise and fall, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to process this latest development in the mess of her current life. Not only was her mother selling Nana’s house, the plan was to demolish it. How could something that represented so much to Paige be destroyed so casually? Like it meant nothing.

  Like she meant nothing.

  She hit the button on her phone to play the music again and turned up the volume until the sound of Nana’s favorite singer overrode everything else, including the sharp shatter of Paige’s heart breaking.

  Chapter Two

  Shep balanced Rosie on one hip as he led his general contractor through the main dining hall at the Crimson Ski Resort two days later.

  The little girl whimpered each time Bob McConnell, the burly, bearded man overseeing renovations, so much as made eye contact with her. An improvement from the beginning of this disastrous meeting, when Bob had reached out and tried to tickle Rosie’s chin, prompting her to break into shuddering sobs as she buried her face against her daddy’s shoulder.

  “You sure it’s a good idea having a baby in the construction zone?” Bob asked, rubbing gnarled fingers across his thick beard.

  “It’s fine,” Shep ground out, even though it was anything but. He’d gone through four babysitters in as many days, none of them lasting more than one shift given Rosie’s temperament when he wasn’t around. Yesterday he’d driven over to Glenwood Springs to pick out flooring for the main lobby of the resort. In his absence, Rosie had screamed so loud and long she’d made herself throw up, according to the most recent nanny candidate.

  The nanny had lasted two hours then called to demand he return to the furnished apartment he’d rented on the edge of Crimson’s picturesque downtown square. Rosie had lifted her chubby arms to him as soon as he’d walked through the door. She’d been clad in nothing but a wet diaper, the nanny insisting that the fourteen-month-old refused to wear clothes.

  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. H
e’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.”<
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  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—”