The Christmas Triplets. Tanya Michaels

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The Christmas Triplets - Tanya Michaels Cupid's Bow, Texas

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frowned in confusion. “You came to give these to me? You don’t even know me.”

      “Think of me as your secret Santa,” Megan said with an attempt at holiday cheer. Amy might not have been the intended recipient, but Megan no longer felt as if her neighbor deserved the soul-brightening benefits of chocolate.

      Quite the contrary. If her grim suspicions were true, what he deserved was to be run out of town.

      * * *

      WILL DIDN’T RECOGNIZE the appalling junk heap of a car in his driveway, but as he pulled up to the house, he was pleasantly surprised to see Amy Reynolds sitting on the top porch step. Since she hadn’t responded to either of the voice mails he’d left, he’d worried that she didn’t want to talk. Maybe she’d just been too busy to call back. Three jobs and a baby couldn’t leave her with much downtime. Sliding the gearshift to Park, he considered enlisting his mother’s help. Gayle Trent knew everyone in Cupid’s Bow. If she could help Amy find a better paying position, the poor kid could cut back on some of her hours.

      As he walked toward the porch and got a closer look at Amy’s face, some of his relief to see her faded. Had she been crying?

      “Hey,” he called, keeping his tone light. “I guess you got my messages?”

      She nodded. He couldn’t see her expression as she turned away, gently rocking the car seat next to her, but he heard her sniffle before asking, “Is this a bad time?”

      “Not at all. In fact, you’re just in time for supper,” he improvised. This was earlier than he normally ate, but good food eased difficult situations. Plus, if they were in the middle of a meal, there was less risk of Amy bolting as soon as the conversation turned uncomfortable. He wasn’t much of a chef, as the crew at the station house frequently liked to remind him, but luckily his mom had sent him home with half a lasagna earlier in the week. If there was ever a cooking competition that involved reheating leftovers, Will would be a serious contender. “Have you eaten yet?”

      “Just some chocolate that friendly Megan from next door gave me.”

      Friendly? Megan? He had a memory of her scowling at him in the porch light last night.

      Amy’s stomach rumbled, and her cheeks reddened.

      “Come in and have dinner. You’ll be doing me a favor—I hate to eat alone.” When she still looked undecided, he added, “You and the little guy will be good company.”

      She stood, lifting the car seat, then reached awkwardly for a large duffel bag. It seemed closer in size to a suitcase than a standard-issue diaper bag, but what did he know about how much equipment a baby required? Now that his nieces were in first grade, he enjoyed taking them horseback riding or to see occasional movies, but during their infant years, he’d left the babysitting to his parents.

      “Here, let me.” He hefted the bag by the strap. The dang thing was heavy, which was saying something, given that Will had to wear sixty-pound gear in his line of duty. Balancing the weight against his hip, he unlocked the door and led her inside.

      “Your place is nice,” she said shyly.

      “Thanks.” The front entrance opened into his living room, which was clean, if not fancy. There weren’t many decorative touches, but a comfy sectional sofa faced a respectably sized flat-screen TV.

      Pausing just long enough to dump the diaper bag on the coffee table, he strolled into the kitchen beyond.

      Amy set the car seat on the table, then slumped into one of the chairs, her posture defeated.

      He desperately wanted to help but wasn’t sure where to begin. “Can I get you something to drink?”

      “Just water. Thanks.”

      When he brought her the glass, he nodded toward the baby who was still snoozing. “Sound sleeper.”

      “Yeah.” Affection lit her gaze, and her lips quirked in an almost smile. “He’s great. But he wakes up cranky.”

      “Hardly a character flaw. I’ve been known to roll out of bed grumpy myself.” He crossed the small tiled kitchen to preheat the oven, then pulled the lasagna pan from the fridge. “Jace told me about what happened at work. About your suspension.” When she sucked in a breath, he backpedaled. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not.”

      “It’s okay. It’s past time I talk to someone.” Her expression was bleak, but her tone was determined. “I need help, Will.”

      She looked so lost that he automatically responded, “Anything.” Her willingness to admit she was struggling was a damn good sign. He’d anticipated defensiveness and denial. Instead, she was being smart about this, and he wanted to encourage her. “I can’t work miracles, but I have a halfway decent head on my shoulders. Plus, lots of people in this town owe me favors. If the two of us try, I bet we can come up with some solutions.”

      Her bottom lip trembled. “People may owe you—Will Trent, local hero—but no one owes me a thing. I got myself into this mess. I can’t completely regret my relationship with Donovan, not when the result was Tommy, but... You’ve heard the rumors about Donovan? I’m talking to you as a friend,” she added quickly. “Not as the sheriff’s brother.”

      Will hesitated. Donovan Anders was a lowlife, and Cupid’s Bow would be better off with him in jail. But his main focus right now was helping Amy, not pressing for details that would help his brother build a case. “I’ve heard gossip.”

      “Most of it is true,” she said, not meeting his gaze. “He told me that he wanted to help, wanted to give me more energy to enjoy my time with Tommy. So I’ve been taking these...supplements.”

      Will bit the inside of his cheek, not voicing his opinion of the man who’d taken advantage of a young woman almost a decade his junior. They both knew she wasn’t talking about a daily dose of vitamin C. “Amy, the kind of supplements Donovan deals have very dangerous side effects.”

      Her eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m a horrible mother. I tried to stop, and I can’t. If I loved my son enough, wouldn’t it be easy? I should be able to stop for Tommy.”

      “Amy.” He sat in the chair next to her, reaching across to squeeze her hand. “Even the best mothers in the world make mistakes. Just don’t tell my mother I said so,” he added with a comical grimace. “That woman still terrifies me.”

      Amy managed a watery laugh. At the sound, baby Tommy twisted in his car seat, face scrunched in warning. Will expected the infant to join his mother in crying, but then Tommy stilled.

      “I need a clean break from Donovan,” she said quietly. “But in a town this size, it’s so hard to stay apart.”

      Will understood. It had been a relief when his ex finally moved out of town because, up until then, he’d felt like he tripped over her every time he left the house. “Anything’s possible with enough moral support. You just need a...task force of first responders. People you can call before you slip back into unwanted habits or find yourself facing temptation.”

      “You make it sound simple.”

      “It won’t be.” He wanted to offer encouragement, not false hope. Amy had some serious challenges ahead.

      “No.”

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