Deputy Daddy. Patricia Johns

if she could stand in as temporary foster care, and for a moment she’d considered turning him down. She had her first guest checking in today—a much-needed start to paying off some of this debt she’d accrued in renovating the old house. But she’d gotten her foster parent certification for a reason: she loved kids, and their town needed a backup to the one foster family it already had.

      Growing up, her brothers had been like a tornado, and keeping up with their antics had been difficult. She’d gone from child to babysitter overnight, and she’d never had the luxury of messing up. The boys, however, ran roughshod over every rule or limit she put up for them. They’d eaten all the food in the house, devoured any treat their mother might have scrounged for the kids, occupied every spare inch that Lily might have been able to use for herself. And instead of terrorizing them back, she’d grudgingly let them have the bag of cookies, the TV time, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, their mother’s attention...because she loved them. And while foster care wouldn’t be easy, she had enough experience with rowdy, difficult kids that she felt like she had something to contribute. Every kid deserved love.

      But when she started her business, she’d decided to put foster parenting on hold. She was finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of owning her own bed-and-breakfast, and that would require her whole attention. Then, of course, there was Aunt Clarisse’s wedding coming up—more family obligation—and her plate was officially full.

      But hearing that the child was a newborn baby girl, her heart had melted. How much trouble could a tiny little girl be? The houseful of boys has been a noisy stampede, but she’d always wished for another girl in the family—someone to appreciate the feminine things with her. Her mother had been too busy with work and the boys for that. Lily was assured that this was a temporary arrangement, and she agreed. Her freedom would have to wait until Beverly Starchuck, the regular foster care provider, returned to Comfort Creek.

      The kitchen was large, using up a full half of the main floor of the house. An old-fashioned stove and refrigerator dominated one side of the room, and a counter island sat squarely in the center, copper pots and pans hanging down from ceiling hooks above. A pot of thick Alfredo sauce sat cooling on the back burner of the stove, a colander of noodles draining in the oversize sink. This evening, the side door was propped open with a rock, revealing the wraparound veranda, and a warm, fragrant breeze swept inside.

      Her guest would be here any minute now. Bryce Camden reminded her too much of her little brothers—good-looking, filled with testosterone and probably far more trouble than he was worth. Obviously, a first impression didn’t go too far, but she knew exactly why police officers came for two-week visits to their out-of-the-way town, and that was for disciplinary action. Bryce was no different from the others, and she’d had her fill of rebellious and charming men. Her little brothers had made certain of that. Now she had her sights set on one goal: some freedom to focus on her small business. She’d earned it.

      Yet she had noticed his ice-blue eyes and the way one side of his mouth turned up before the other when he was about to smile. The prospect of having him as her first guest was mildly unsettling. Ironically, she was grateful for a bit of distraction now—Baby Emily and her Aunt Clarisse’s upcoming wedding. The entire extended family was in a tizzy about that wedding, and as maid of honor, she’d have her hands full. This was probably the first time she felt thankful for the unending burden of family obligation.

      The cheerful chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, and Lily took one last look into the bassinet before heading down the hallway to the front door. Everything was guest-ready—everything, that is, except the flutter in her stomach.

      “This is it,” she murmured to herself. This was the start of Comfort Creek’s Bed-and-Breakfast—her first guest.

      When she pulled open the front door, Bryce stood there with a suitcase in hand, giving her a tentative smile. His uniform fit him perfectly, the two-toned blue bringing out those unsettlingly light eyes. He’d parked a black pickup truck in the shade of a spreading elm tree in the drive.

      “You’re here,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open. “Welcome! I hope you enjoy your stay.”

      Bryce stepped inside, and she saw him look around the foyer. She knew exactly what he’d be seeing. A hall chest sat against one wall, a beveled mirror hanging above it. A mason jar of lilacs from the side of the house sat on the top of the hall chest, spilling their fragrance around the entranceway. Behind her, a bright white staircase led upstairs.

      “Nice place,” Bryce said. “A far cry from that hotel along the highway.”

      “The Melody Inn?” Lily swung the door shut. “That place has a rat infestation. And that isn’t just a competitor being catty, either. They’re shut down for the next two weeks while they get it under control. They’re as big as raccoons, apparently. It’s the most interesting thing happening in town right now, besides my Aunt Clarisse’s wedding, that is.”

      Bryce winced. “Well, good thing I’m here, then.”

      There was something in his voice that gave her pause, and she mentally kicked herself. She had a bad habit of saying too much. This wasn’t a friend dropping by for a visit—she was supposed to be professional. Just then the baby started to cry.

      “That would be Emily.”

      She headed back into the kitchen, too aware of the tall man behind her. He had a way of making her feel flustered in spite of herself. She heard Bryce set his suitcase by the door, then his footsteps came down the hallway after her. Emily’s tiny cry wavered from the corner. Lily scooped her up and the weeping stopped immediately. Her little onesie was damp from sweat, and Lily could only imagine that some air would feel nice.

      Lily noticed Bryce pause in the doorway, and when he saw the baby, his expression grew softer. “How’s she doing?” he asked.

      “Good.” Lily went closer so that he could see Emily’s little squished face. “She’s been sleeping and going through a lot of bottles of milk. She loves to be held, this one.”

      “I’m glad,” he said, then cleared his throat. “So do you run this place by yourself?” He stepped back, then poked his head out the side door where a padded wicker chair waited invitingly.

      “I do,” she said. “Can’t afford employees yet.”

      She was proud of the title of sole owner—one she’d hardly dreamed possible. She would never have been able to save up a down payment to get started on her own, so she’d entered a contest for young entrepreneurs in Colorado with her business plan. She’d won first place—a check just big enough for her down payment on the old house and some supplies. Lily was certain it was an answer to her fervent prayers. A chance to climb out of the poverty she’d grown up in. And when God put an opportunity like this in her lap, she wasn’t about to squander it.

      “Taking care of this place alone—is that safe?” Bryce pulled his head back inside and fixed her with a steady look. His seriousness was almost comical. What did he expect happened in Comfort Creek, exactly?

      Lily laughed. “Of course. I know just about everybody in town, and we’re only three blocks from the police station.” She was also counting on most of her clientele being officers just like Bryce. Comfort Creek was probably the only town this size that had a regular influx of visitors due to the county’s training program.

      Bryce smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I’m used to a different pace in Fort Collins.”

      “Yeah, I imagine.” She switched the baby to the other arm, and Emily looked around in that cross-eyed way that newborns had.

      “So, if you know everyone in town, any guesses as to the mother of Piglet here?” he asked, reaching out to touch her hand. The baby closed her fingers around his thumb.

      Lily made a face. “A little piece of advice—never call a girl Piglet.” Bryce shot her a teasing grin, a little too much like her brothers did. “And no, I don’t know who the mother is. Maybe someone from an outlying community? I have no idea.”

      She paused.