The Seal's Secret Daughter. Christy Jeffries

grandmother, perhaps. The second photo was actually on shiny magazine paper and showed a basket full of calico kittens.

      Even Ethan had more personal belongings and mementos when he’d shipped off to basic training.

      “For whatever it’s worth—” Monica gave a quick glance toward the hallway then lowered her voice to the whisper-soft tone she normally used inside the library “—when I spoke to her in the ladies’ room, she admitted that she would rather stay with you than go into foster care.”

      “Then why did she run off?” Ethan tried to whisper back, but it sounded more like an angry hiss.

      “Probably because she thought you didn’t want her?” Monica put her hands on her hips and, if Ethan had been in his right mind, he would’ve appreciated the way her defensive stance showed off her lush curves. He’d been trying to get this woman out of her shell for the past few months, yet now that she was finally directing some passion his way, the angry heat in her eyes caused him to take a step back.

      “I’d suggest hiring an attorney and making everything legal,” Carmen said, typing something into her smartphone. “But, in the meantime, depending on what the CPS records show, as long as Trina’s not a ward of the court, I feel comfortable releasing her into your custody.”

      One advantage to living in a small town was that when people knew you, they didn’t mind giving you the benefit of the doubt. Ethan finally understood the next step he would have to take.

      Now, he just needed to convince a scared and abandoned little girl that he was her best option. Too bad he hadn’t convinced himself yet.

       Chapter Three

      “But what if she changes her mind and doesn’t want to stay with him?” Monica asked Carmen when the two women got downstairs and circled around to the sidewalk in front of Domino’s Deli. “What if she runs away again?”

      “Then I’d suggest you let Freckles know that the girl might show up at the Cowgirl Up again. Maybe she thinks of it as a safe space.”

      “Does that mean you think she might not feel safe with him?”

      “I know you’re worried about the girl.” Carmen placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I can’t predict the future any better than you can, but I got the impression that she ran off the first time thinking she was saving face. You know, getting away before her father could reject her. Kids that age have a tendency to act tough when they’re afraid. When we talked to her back in the restaurant and told her that Ethan was out searching for her and seemed genuinely worried about her well-being, she appeared willing to give him a chance. Listen, Monica, I never would’ve released her into his custody if I thought it wasn’t in her best interest.”

      Monica had always liked and trusted the female police officer, who preferred mysteries while her twin sons raced through a couple of Magic Tree House books a week. They’d never really socialized much, but then again, Monica wasn’t much for hanging out with her neighbors or attending the community activities.

      She was too busy working two jobs and taking care of Gran. Being pleasant and making small talk with the customers at the restaurant took all the energy she had left. Still, she knew how to keep her eyes and ears open and Carmen Gregson was compassionate with the townspeople, observant on her patrols, and dedicated to her job and family. Everyone in town valued the woman’s opinion.

      Looking at her watch, Monica estimated that she had fifteen more minutes before she would have to leave for the library. So she didn’t bother keeping the hesitation from her voice as she asked, “What do you think of Ethan Renault?”

      “In what way?” Carmen was a cop and an observer. Like Monica, she probably did her research and analyzed things from all angles.

      “As a father, I guess.” Monica stated the obvious when what she really wanted to ask—what she’d really wanted to know for the past few months—was if she was a complete fool for having a teensy tiny crush on the man.

      But her ill-advised attraction to Ethan was something she could barely acknowledge to herself. There was no way she would say it out loud. Besides, now certainly wasn’t the time to ask about the guy’s relationship suitability—which had lost all potential anyway the second Trina showed up.

      Carmen turned to face her, seeming to look beyond Monica’s forced casual expression and deep down into what her mind was really thinking. Wrapping an arm around her midsection, Monica toyed with the tie of her apron, trying not to feel too exposed.

      “He’s one of my husband’s best friends, so keep in mind that my opinion might be a little biased.”

      Monica nodded. “Grain of salt taken.”

      “When I first met Ethan, I would’ve pegged him for a typical Navy SEAL with a cocky ego and an adrenaline complex. The type of guy who doesn’t mind breaking hearts or breaking bones if it involves having a good time. Although, I’d also pegged Luke the same way and he proved me wrong. I think Ethan has been through a lot and seen a lot, yet doesn’t talk about the darker stuff. Probably hides it behind that flirty smile and arrogant charm.”

      So Monica wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the lazy, seductive grin. Or the possibility of a string of broken hearts left in his wake. Resolution made her spine stiffen and her commitment to not fall prey to his flirtatious banter intensified.

      “But,” Carmen continued, “I also think he takes his responsibilities seriously and he isn’t afraid of a little adversity. Luke told me that of all his former teammates, Ethan was the one he trusted the most. I know the guy probably doesn’t seem like the fatherly type now, but Trina is in safe hands.”

      Monica gave a slight nod as she exhaled, but she still held on to her doubts. Her own father had come and gone from her life many times before he’d finally left for good. She and her mom had lived with Gran until Monica was six, and when her mother passed, Gran seemed to think that her dad might come back to get her. Part of Monica had been terrified that she would have to leave her grandmother and the only home she’d ever known. But the other part of her had been excited that she could have her father back, that she might finally get to experience a dad’s love. Just like Monica, Trina had to be nervous and terrified of what awaited her, but maybe she was just a little excited, too. Excited that she would now get a chance to know the man who made up part of her DNA.

      Unfortunately, that excitement would soon fade once Ethan let the girl down. Even with Carmen’s vote of confidence on keeping her safe, there was no way a tried-and-true bachelor like him could change his ways and provide a nurturing home to a preteen who’d just had her world turned upside down.

      For Trina’s sake, Monica would hope for the best. But leopards didn’t change their spots. It was a good reminder for the next time she found herself attracted to a man like Ethan. Blowing a curl out of her face, she couldn’t believe that she’d been secretly enjoying his flirtatious banter every Monday and Wednesday when she’d waited on him during her breakfast shift, hoping he’d ask her out.

      A crackling sound shot out from the walkie-talkie on Carmen’s duty belt and Monica recognized the dispatcher’s voice through the static. A retiree with a tie-dye shirt and comb-over hairstyle that didn’t fool anyone, Harv Jenkins preferred science fiction and the occasional graphic novel. In addition to being a part-time dispatcher, he also volunteered at the senior citizens center and had always been sweet to Gran, despite the fact that her grandmother hated his comic book drawing classes. But his words today made Monica’s pulse leap. “Be advised, we just got a call about the fire alarm going off at the Alvarez house again.”

      The siren from the nearby fire engine rang out and a heavy ball of dread settled in Monica’s stomach, a familiar feeling lately where her grandmother was concerned.

      “You want me to drive you in the patrol car?” Carmen offered.

      “No thanks.” Monica jogged