Free Granted: A Family for Baby by Grace Carol Page A

leave me. Especially since I’m here against my will. And since you caused the injury that caused the pain and the humiliation. Is that clear?”
    She paused only a moment to take all this in. “All clear, Sheriff,” she said with a snappy salute. Then she left the room.
    He put his head back against the couch and let the unfamiliar smell of a home-cooked meal permeate his senses. If he had the sense God gave a mongoose, he’d get out of that house as fast as he could. Before he succumbed to the charms of Suzy and the homey atmosphere she’d created. The ferns in the corner, the soft lights and the couch just inviting him to stretch out, the framed baby pictures of Travis on the mantel all said: this is a home...this is a family...a family without one important member—the one she was leaving him to find.
    Instead of stretching out, he ought to limp, stagger or crawl out to the highway, hold out his thumb and hitch a ride home. Because he’d been tempted once before by this kind of a setup. At one time this was all he’d
     wanted. A house to come home to. A wife waiting with dinner simmering on the stove. A baby in the crib. But not anymore. He’d chosen a life of law enforcement and as he’d told Suzy, it was no life for a married man. It broke up marriages, it put an unfair burden on the wife and kids. It broke hearts. His, for one.
    But what was one night, he asked himself. What was the harm of eating one dinner, spending one night on her couch? Yes, he was there against his will. He’d probably regret it. But since having Suzy make a big deal out of a broken toe, bring him his dinner and let him sleep under her roof were not likely to happen again, not in this lifetime, anyway, he might as well relax and enjoy it. Which was why when she returned in less than the allotted five minutes, he was smiling to himself.
    He looked up. “You put Travis in bed and he didn’t cry?” he asked, noting that she’d changed into faded jeans and a Brady Wilson for Sheriff T-shirt.
    “He’s usually good about it. I don’t know what happened the night you watched him. I’m afraid you weren’t firm enough with him. He must have spotted you as-an easy mark.”
    “Don’t let my constituents hear that,” he said. “Or the would-be criminals lurking around Harmony.”
    Suzy brought the food into the living room so he could stay where he was. She sat cross-legged on the floor, facing him. As they ate, they talked about many things. He told her how he felt when he first came to Harmony, before he knew anyone, how he felt at home from the first and how much he liked it. She told him stories about growing up in Harmony and how much she liked it.
    He didn’t talk about his ex-wife, and Suzy didn’t talk
     about the man who was Travis’s father. He wanted to ask. He wanted to ask how such a levelheaded, down-to-earth person like her could have made such a terrible mistake, but deep down he really didn’t want to know. He wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. Her affair and his marriage. Neither one. He carefully avoided talking about her next husband, too. The one who was waiting at the diner for a chance to propose to her. Why spoil a nice evening?
    They didn’t talk about what had happened that morning, either. It was best to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all. He didn’t know about her, but he was really having a hard time pretending. Every time he looked at her, he thought about how he’d kissed her and how she felt in his arms. And he remembered the flush that tinted her cheeks, the way she held on to him as if she’d never let go. The sharp intake of her breath.
    The dinner was the best he’d had in months, maybe years. The pot roast was tender and moist, smothered in a rich gravy, surrounded by small, new potatoes and carrots. He mopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of French bread.
    “Yes, he’s a lucky guy,” he said. He just couldn’t stop himself. Couldn’t stop comparing himself to the