The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise. Brenda Harlen

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The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise - Brenda Harlen Match Made in Haven

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understands how important you are to me,” she said, without denying his claim.

      “You’re important to me, too, but I think this move is going to be the best thing for all of us.”

      “But why do you have to go so far away?” she demanded.

      “Nevada’s not all that far,” he said soothingly.

      “But Haven?” she pressed. “I looked it up—it might as well be called Nowhere, Nevada, because that’s where it is.”

      “Then I won’t expect you to visit,” he said mildly.

      “Of course, I’ll visit,” she promised. “Because you don’t have any friends or family in that town.”

      “Actually, I do have a...friend...in Haven.”

      “A female friend?” she guessed.

      He nodded.

      “I knew there had to be another reason that you suddenly decided to leave Echo Ridge—something more than a temporary job.”

      “She’s not the reason I’m leaving,” he said truthfully. “But I am looking forward to seeing her again.”

      “What’s her name?”

      Reid shook his head. “None of your business.”

      Trish smiled. “Afraid I’ll track her down and ask about her intentions?”

      “Yes,” he admitted.

      Not that he was really worried. He had no doubt that Katelyn Gilmore could handle his ex-wife. But the attorney had no idea that he was moving to Haven, because they hadn’t exchanged any contact information before they went their separate ways after the conference. And with the perspective that came with time and distance, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the weekend they’d spent together into more than it really was.

      “Well, it would only be fair,” Trish said now. “You wouldn’t let me go out on a second date with Jonah until you’d done a complete background check on him.”

      “Because your father asked me to take care of you,” he reminded her.

      “He wanted us to take care of each other,” she said.

      And for a while, they’d done just that. But Trish had wanted more than he’d been willing or able to give her—an irreconcilable difference that led to the end of their marriage. When that happened, he felt as if he’d let down Hank as much as Trish, but he knew his old friend would be pleased to see his daughter in a committed relationship with a man who could give her everything Reid couldn’t.

      He was sincerely happy for her, because she was happy. For himself, he’d decided a long time ago that he wasn’t cut out to be a dad. A kid who’d been knocked around by his mother’s various boyfriends for the first six years of his life, then raised by his widowed grandmother for the next eight before being kicked into and around the system didn’t know anything about being a father. He’d lucked out when he’d met Hank. Trish’s father had given him an idea of the type of man a dad should be, but Reid suspected it was too little too late, that the scars from his earlier years were too numerous and deep to ever truly heal.

      “Now you’ve got Jonah,” he reminded her.

      “Yes, I do,” Trish said, smiling through the tears that filled her eyes again.

      “Jeez, will you stop with the waterworks?” he demanded, passing her a box of tissues.

      She plucked one out and dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t help it—it’s pregnancy hormones.”

      “Well, let your husband deal with your blubbering—he’s the one who knocked you up.”

      “Yes, he did,” she said proudly, rubbing a hand over the enormous swell of her belly. “And those hormones have also led to doing a lot more of what got me into this condition.”

      He lifted his hands to cover his ears. “Way too much information, Trish.”

      She laughed through her tears. Then she reached out a hand to touch his arm. “Can I give you one piece of advice?”

      “Can I stop you?” he countered drily.

      She ignored his question. “Before you get involved with this woman—before she gets involved with you—be honest about what you want and don’t want from a relationship.”

      “I never meant to be dishonest with you,” he said quietly.

      “I know,” she admitted. “The problem was, we rushed into marriage without ever talking about all the things we should have talked about.”

      He nodded. “But now you have everything you wanted.”

      “Soon,” she amended, rubbing a hand over her baby bump again. Then with her other hand, she grabbed his and drew it to the curve of her belly. “Do you feel that? He’s kicking.”

      He did feel it, little nudges against his palm. He wondered if it hurt her, to have a tiny human being moving around inside of her, but that seemed like too personal a question to ask. Not that his ex-wife seemed to care about boundaries, which was why Reid was moving out of state in an effort to establish some. Instead he asked, “He?”

      Trish smiled and nodded. “It’s a boy. We’re going name him Henry—for my dad.”

      Reid had to clear the tightness from his own throat before he could respond. “That’s a great name.”

      She watched him tape the flaps of the box shut. “I really wish you weren’t going.”

      He hadn’t expected that his ex-wife would make this easy for him, but he hadn’t expected that it would be so hard, either. But he didn’t—couldn’t—waver. He needed to move on with his life, and as long as he was living a stone’s throw away from her, he knew that wouldn’t happen.

      “You’re going to be okay, Trish. You don’t need me anymore.”

      She sniffed and knuckled away a tear that spilled onto her cheeks. “But what if you still need me?”

      She’d been his family—his only family—for seven years now. But it didn’t matter if he still needed her—it was time for him to move on.

      * * *

      Kate thanked the clerk as she slid the judge’s signed order into her client’s file, tucked the file into her briefcase and turned away from the desk. She exited the courthouse, pausing outside the doors to perch her sunglasses on her nose in defense against the bright afternoon sun, then continued on her way. She’d been told that she moved purposefully, like a woman on a mission, and she usually was.

      Today her mission was to get away from the courthouse before she threw up. She crossed the street and ducked into the shade of the trees that lined the perimeter of Shearing Park. The greenspace was usually quiet at this time of day, offering the privacy she needed. She lowered herself onto the wooden slats of a bench and reached into her briefcase for the sleeve of saltine crackers

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