Page 86 of Surly Sheriff
Not wanting to draw undue attention to herself by storming up the stairs without replying, she nodded. “Yes.”
“We met. On the beach a few—”
“I recall.”
He frowned at her cool tone. And took a step back, tugging the lead. “Just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Remorse flooded her. This was no way to start her stay in Hermosa Bay. Rae walked across the concrete. “Forgive me. I’ve a lot on my mind.” She held her hand out. “RachelStirling.” She had altered her first name when creating her new identity, but wanting her baby to have Beau’s last name, she retained Stirling.
“Chance Bateman.” His grip was brief but firm. “From there.” He pointed to a house across the street and one down before offering her a disarming grin. “If you need help with the heavy lifting, I run a landscape service and have several strappy guys working for me.”
Despite her desire to remain aloof, she caved and cocked her head. “Do I detect a slight Aussie accent?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Another charming grin flashed across his face. “Lived there for a while.”
“Thank you for the offer. My place is furnished, so no need for any heavy lifting.”
He pulled out a wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card. “You need anything, please call.”
Bateman Landscaping. “Thank you,” she said and glanced at the steps behind her.
Chance caught the hint. “I’ll be going, but as I said, welcome to the neighborhood.” He pointed to the card in her hand. “And don’t hesitate to use that number. Come, Bugger, let’s go fetch CJ.”
At the top of her steps, she turned and watched the man and his goat climb into the truck parked across the street, shaking her head at the odd sight.
*
Printout in hand, Rae frowned and shook her head. There were so many to choose from. An image of Chance’s pregnant wife flashed in her mind. What better than a personal reference? She stood and walked through the living room to the window overlooking the street. Two vehicles were parked in the driveway opposite her. The Batemans were home.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her house keys and crossed the road. Aubrey answered her knock, the smell of something delicious wafting with her.
Rae held her hand up. “I’m interrupting dinner. Sorry. I’ll come back later.”
“Nonsense.” Aubrey grabbed her hand. “You’ll join us.”
Later, full from the delicious pasta primavera and thoroughly homesick for her life in Clearbrook — sitting around the table with the Bateman family reminded her of all she had left behind — Rae plucked up the courage to ask about obstetric care in the area.
Aubrey canted her head. “How far along are you?”
“Six months,” she admitted, swallowing back the lump in her throat while tearing apart the paper napkin before her.
Her hostess leaned over the table and placed a hand on her forearm. “And the father? We couldn’t help but notice you’re living alone.”
Rae straightened. “He’s not in the picture.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s a very special time.”
A very special time.
And Beau was missing out.
She pulled in a shuddering breath, willing the threatening tears back. But thanks to her wonky hormones and intense longing for the love of her life, they spilled over.
And for the first time since leaving Clearbrook, she cried.
*
Jack Stirling entered the world one sunny summer morning. Rae held her son close to her chest and ran the back of her hand over his soft cheek. Love like she had never felt before flooded her. “I promise, Jack. I will find a way for us to get back to your daddy. To make this right for both of you.”
