neck just under his chin. He couldn’t see the baby anymore now—just feel him as he settled over Mike’s heartbeat.
“Okay...” Mike breathed. “Got it. He’s really small, isn’t he?”
“They start out that way,” Paige said. “Especially if they’re born a little early. I’ll cut you some slack and get the bottle ready. At his size, he’s going to be eating every hour or two. He’s got some catching up to do.”
“As in twenty-four feedings a day?” Mike asked incredulously.
“Give or take.” She bent down, picked up a box of supplies that had come from Social Services in Denver and headed toward his kitchen. Her cheerful voice filtered back to him as he heard the tap turn on. “You’re about to find out what tired really feels like!”
And then she laughed, this buoyant, cheerful tinkle of laughter that made him feel a little better, in spite of it all.
PAIGE STOOD BY the kitchen sink shaking up a bottle of formula. Mike’s kitchen was neat—a pot in the farmhouse-style sink waiting to be washed, but other than that, the counters were wiped and everything looked in order. Paige could appreciate a neat kitchen. It was soothing.
The milk frothed in the bottle, and she paused, let it settle, then shook it again. The view from the kitchen window opened up into a backyard with a lawn that seemed to fade into some brush and forest. Trees flamed red and gold; the wind rippling through autumn leaves clung resolutely to the branches. Beyond the trees, the mountains loomed. A cape of evergreens mingled with a few deciduous trees that were in full fall display climbing up the mountainside toward the bare, rocky peaks that were obscured by cloud.
“It’s quite the view,” Mike said behind her, and she turned. The baby was still snuggled up under his chin.
“It really is,” she agreed, and she turned on the hot water tap to warm the milk in the bottle. “I’ve lived here my whole life, except for my college years, and I never get tired of that view.”
“Really?” Mike raised his eyebrows. “All your life?”
“It’s as good a place as any to grow up,” she said, turning off the tap and shaking up the bottle again. “I love this town. We have more than our fair share of eagles, which draws in a lot of tourists. Have you ever seen one up close?”
Mike shook his head. “Not yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time around here,” she said. “Most people want to come out this way for the wildlife.”
“Not me.” His voice was a low rumble.
“So why did you?” she asked.
“I didn’t have a whole lot of choice,” he replied. “My boss strongly suggested I transfer out, and Eagle’s Rest was the only place hiring.”
“What happened?” She eyed him for a moment, standing there with the baby in his arms and an irritable look on his face. “Never mind. I think I can guess.”
“Yeah?” He shot her an amused look. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
“My brother’s a cop, and I’ve worked with police officers for a long time. The one thing you all seemed to share in common is a tendency to balk at authority—ironically enough. It takes a certain personality type to want to chase down bad guys...and that personality doesn’t like authority, either.”
He laughed softly. “You’re insightful.”
“I am.” She shot him a smile back. “So, I’m right?”
“Sort of,” he said. “I want to join the SWAT team, but that involves both a passing mark on the qualifying exams and a recommendation from my boss to even get into the Denver SWAT training. Chief Vernon wasn’t going to give me the recommendation. He said if I wanted to start fresh somewhere else, I was welcome to. There was an opening here, and I figured I’d take his advice and see if I couldn’t get a new chief to help me get there.”
“SWAT.” She eyed him for a moment. “That’s elite. Have you done the exams?”
“Yep. Just waiting on the results.”
“If the chief didn’t think you had what it took, why let you sit for the exams to begin with?”
“I think he was hoping I wouldn’t pass and he could shut me down for a while. I’m more stubborn than that.”
She could see it now—the cocky cop, the determination, the attitude... Now this officer was here in quiet little Eagle’s Rest with a newborn. He was going to hate this.
“You don’t plan to stay, do you?” she asked.
“Only as long as I have to, honestly,” he replied. “I know what I want. I know where I can contribute the most. And it isn’t here.”
Paige handed him the bottle. “Benjie’s going to be hungry pretty soon.”
The baby wriggled and opened his mouth like a little bird as if on cue. Mike’s confidence seemed to evaporate and he looked from the bottle to the baby and over to her with an expression of misgiving.
“How do I do this?” he asked.
“Here—” She took the bottle back. “Just tip him onto his back in the crook of your arm.”
Mike took a moment to get the baby into the right position, then she handed him the bottle again.
“Test it against your wrist,” she said. “There are a lot of nerve endings there. The milk should feel warm but not hot.”
Mike tapped the nipple against his wrist, nodded, then held it over the baby’s face. A drip of milk splattered across the infant’s forehead, and Benjie let out a squawk of annoyance. Paige chuckled, then stepped closer, put her hand over Mike’s broad one and guided the bottle to Benjie’s searching mouth. The baby latched on and started to suck.
“There you go,” she murmured.
Paige was standing close, and when she looked up at him, she found his steely gaze locked on her. He smelled good—the wrong thing to be noticing right now.
“Thanks,” Mike said.
“Sure.” She shot him a brief smile, and his gaze moved back to the baby. He probably had no idea what that stare of his did to a woman. He was just so...male. It had been a while since she’d noticed a man in this way.
The bottle was dwarfed in Mike’s big hand as the baby drank, the milk in the bottle steadily disappearing.
“So, you’ve figured me out,” Mike said quietly. “What about you? How come you want to quit? You have that trouble with authority, too?”
“No, not me. I just...lost my faith in being able to make a difference.”
His eyes flickered up toward her again. “One
