The SEAL's Baby. Laura Altom Marie

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being braided, she wore a checkered red dress with matching red sneakers.

      Her hug made him feel like the world’s worst son for not having been by to see her sooner.

      “Hi, I’m Gretta Stone.” She extended her free hand to Libby. “Looks like you swallowed a watermelon seed.”

      Heath died a little inside. Really, Mom?

      Fortunately, Libby laughed. “Yes, ma’am, I did. Hope the baby doesn’t come out red-and-green.” Her smile was accompanied by a wink. Meeting his mom’s outstretched hand, she said, “I’m Libby Dewitt. Nice to meet you.”

      “Likewise.” To her son, she asked, “To what do I owe this pleasure? I know you didn’t stop by just to see me.”

      He’d wondered how long it would take her to get a dig in about his lack of recent visits. “Actually, I was out looking for Sam this morning and stumbled across Libby instead. Her car broke down, and—”

      “Wait.” His mom held up her hand, stopping him midsentence. “Libby, I want to hear all about your poor car, but Sam is my son’s dog. Sounds like we need to launch a search party.”

      “For sure,” Libby said. She turned to Heath. “Why didn’t you say something when I first got here? Your dog is way more important than my busted ride.”

      Uncomfortable with having his problems on public display, Heath rammed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll find him.”

      “Of course you will. With my help. And Libby, would I be right in assuming you’re needing a temporary place to stay?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Great.” Gretta watered the plant nearest her. “Let me get you set up in a room, then—”

      “Sorry for interrupting,” Libby said, “but I’m strapped for cash. Think we could work out some sort of trade for a room?”

      “What’d you have in mind?”

      Never had Heath wished more to be a dishonorable man. All he wanted to do was get back to his cabin and resume his search for Sam—alone. He didn’t want his well-meaning mom involved, and he sure didn’t need the added concern of worrying whether or not Libby was on the verge of going into labor.

      “I might not look like it,” Libby said, “but I’m a hard worker. I could waitress at the diner. Clean rooms for you or do laundry. Run your front desk—pretty much any odd job you need done. I’m a potter by trade, so I can also make any sort of custom piece you might like.”

      Was it wrong of Heath that this was one time he wished his mom would turn away a stray? He had nothing against Libby. She seemed like a great gal. That didn’t change the fact that in her condition, she needed to find a home base—fast. And Bent Road wasn’t it.

      Come on, Mom. Just say no.

      Gretta once again extended her hand for Libby to shake. “You have a deal. I just happen to have a vacancy, as well as a family reunion fishing group who are really going through the towels. I’ve had the washer and dryer going practically 24/7, and could sure use help.”

      Libby’s shoulders sagged. Relieved? “Thank you, ma’am. I promise I won’t be any trouble, and just as soon as my car’s ready, I’ll be on my way.”

      Heath tried not to scowl. Libby was now officially his mother’s concern, so why didn’t he feel better? Maybe because her pretty, misty-eyed smile tugged at his long-frozen heart?

      Chapter Three

      Libby sat on the foot of her new bed—the first true bed she’d slept on in two years, and could hardly believe her good fortune. Her constantly aching back practically sang! Beneath his curmudgeonly exterior, Heath was a sweetheart. After meeting his mom, Libby knew why.

      Her new boss had given her fifteen minutes to “freshen up,” then asked her to man the inn’s front office desk while she traipsed around the woods for her son’s dog. They’d both agreed night hiking probably wasn’t a good idea for a woman in Libby’s condition.

      After splashing cold water on her face and running a brush through her hair, Libby still couldn’t get over the wonder of her situation. She’d grown to appreciate the unique flavor of her rustic life, but a part of her had always wished Liam wanted more. Not just for them to share an apartment or house, but a commitment. She’d assumed he’d one day see the light—her light, their shared light—but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

      Hugging the baby, she said, “I’m sorry in advance for the mess you’ll be born into. Once our car’s fixed, there’s no telling how my folks are going to take the news about you. In a perfect world, they’ll love you like I already do, but...”

      She shut up in favor of grabbing a tissue to blot her teary eyes and blow her suddenly runny nose. What happened to her usually sunny disposition?

      Instead of looking for possible trouble somewhere down the road, she needed to count her current blessings. Starting by meeting Gretta in the inn’s cozy lobby.

      The early evening had turned crisp and she found the conifer-laced air invigorating.

      Up close, the inn was even more charming than she’d seen from the road. Steam rose from a small pool in a glade near the office, around which sat a group of six guys, laughing over beers. A gazebo, wreathed in ivy, ferns and thriving impatiens graced the grounds’ far end. A glider swing and hammock stood amongst still more gardens that faced the row of rooms and a few cabins. Hydrangeas dazzled in shades of blue ranging between cobalt and sky.

      The only thing missing from the idyllic scene was Heath’s truck. A fact which she shouldn’t have even noticed, let alone found the tiniest bit disappointing. He’d already done more than most anyone else would’ve given the circumstances. So why did she still want more? Oh, she didn’t want things from him like food or transportation, but rather she had a sudden craving for his company.

      “There you are.” Gretta stepped out of the office. “I was just coming to find you.”

      “Here I am,” Libby said with a nervous laugh, still not quite believing her luck over having stepped into such a perfect situation. “Reporting for duty.”

      “Good, good...” She held open the plate glass door, ushering Libby inside. “Is your room okay? Find everything you need?”

      “It’s beautiful—and so homey. The gingham curtains and vintage logging pics make it feel like a place you’d want to stay a nice long while.”

      Heath’s mom beamed. “I’m so glad you like it. My son thought I was off my rocker for spending so much on redecorating last year, but my business has more than doubled, so he can keep any further advice to himself.”

      Laughing, Libby said, “Hands-down, the room you’ve loaned me is way more inviting than his cabin—not that I wasn’t thankful he found me, but—” Libby felt horrible that her statement made it sound as though she was dissing the man who’d done so much “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. Heath’s cabin is perfect. I just meant that you’d win should the two of you be in a decorating contest.”

      “I get

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