Protecting Their Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather

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Protecting Their Baby - Sheri WhiteFeather Mills & Boon Intrigue

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himself. She’d changed…a lot. He remembered a girl with a flyaway blond hair and a gamin face, but that girl had turned into a woman with expressive silver-green eyes and a shapely body.

      Very shapely.

      Get a grip, Ross ordered, trying to quell a flash of heat in his groin. That wasn’t why he’d returned to Quicksilver. He’d returned because Hannah was a good friend and he needed her help. When it came right down to it, she was the only woman he really trusted.

      Woman. He grinned at the thought.

      Hannah hadn’t quite been a woman when he’d left Quicksilver, but it didn’t matter; they’d gotten into too much trouble together to ever be strangers. Hours of writing “I’ll never build a snowman on the teacher’s chair again” were a guarantee of lifelong friendship.

      “What are you smirking about?” Hannah asked.

      “Our infamous snowman. How many times did we have to write that sentence?”

      “A thousand times each. My hand developed a permanent crimp, and it was all your idea to do it.”

      Ross shook his head. “Not quite. You were the one who suggested we dye the snow green and use a witch’s cap. That was the part Mrs. Haggerty hated the worst.”

      “All right, we were both responsible.” Hannah laughed, her cheeks turning pink. He loved it; she was probably the only woman left on the planet unspoiled enough to blush.

      After his disastrous marriage he’d vowed never to be trapped again, but getting Jamie had changed everything. He needed a wife to strengthen his legal position in case of another custody battle, and his son needed a mother. Hannah was the solution to both problems.

      He’d thought it out very carefully. Hannah had grown up in Alaska and she was great with kids. And she was the loyal type—at just fourteen she’d taken over caring for the family when her mother died in childbirth. He knew she’d marry him if she understood how important it was; they’d always stuck together.

      Hannah came closer, her attention focused on Jamie. “Hello. My name is Hannah. Who are you?”

      “Jamie. I’m four.” He held up all five of his fingers.

      She tucked his thumb down, then touched the remaining fingers one by one. “This many is four. One, two, three, four. See?”

      He regarded his hand for a solemn second. In fact, he was entirely too solemn and grave for a child his age, something that could be blamed on his flighty mother. Ross’s mouth tightened with determination; Jamie deserved to have Hannah as his mother, and that’s exactly what his son was going to get.

      “Okay,” Jamie agreed. “Can I have some ice cream?”

      “May I,” Ross corrected.

      Jamie sighed heavily. “Okay. Can Papa have some, too?”

      An exasperated expression crossed his father’s face, but Hannah smiled. After raising six brothers, she could handle little boys. A sense of humor helped, along with a huge tolerance for noise and cheerful chaos.

      “Of course he can have some ice cream. I know your papa likes strawberry the best, but what’s your favorite?”

      “V’nilla.” Jamie leaned forward and held out his arms. With an ease born of long practice, Hannah shifted the youngster onto her hip.

      “I need to talk to you, Hannah,” said Ross, following them to a corner table. “It’s important.”

      For some reason her stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d talked about everything when they were kids; why should it be different now? The fact that Ross had turned into a heart-stopping hunk didn’t mean anything.

      And don’t forget Jamie.

      Right.

      Little boys had mothers, which meant there was a good chance Ross was married. So it would be silly to be attracted to an old friend, and even sillier to imagine he was attracted to her. It was just this wedding stuff, getting her stirred up and confused. Just the same, it would be nice to have someone really want her.

      “Hannah?”

      “Uhh…all right. Except I’d better get that ice cream first. Isn’t that right, Jamie? A nice big bowl.”

      Jamie’s eyes brightened. “V’nilla.”

      “And strawberry for your papa. We’ll be right back, Ross.”

      Ross sat back and watched Hannah disappear into the restaurant kitchen with his son. “I heard Deke is working on a fishing boat,” he called. “He’s the youngest, isn’t he?”

      “Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “He took off a couple of months ago to earn money for college. Deke is just like you. He couldn’t wait to get away.”

      Ross shifted in the old ladder-back chair. Yeah, he’d been anxious to leave Quicksilver. It was a dusty little town, forgotten by the modern world and lumbering toward extinction. The principal entertainments were hunting, drinking and watching moss grow on trees.

      On the other hand, Hannah had never seemed to mind living in Quicksilver. She’d listened patiently when he talked about escaping, but her family was the center of her world, not exotic travel and different places. And he had to admit, if he’d been part of the Liggett clan he might have felt the same. They weren’t perfect, but they were nice people.

      “Here we go,” Hannah said a moment later. She held a tray in one hand and led Jamie with the other.

      “Thanks.” Ross settled his son on his lap and tucked a napkin under his chin. It was awkward. Jamie had only been living with him for a few weeks and they were still adjusting to each other.

      Just then the sound of excited, happy people floated into the restaurant and Hannah grinned. “That’s the wedding party coming over from the church.”

      “I couldn’t believe it when your dad said Ten Penny was getting married.”

      She gave him a strange look. “When did you talk to my father?”

      “A few days ago.”

      Hannah straightened, still watching Ross with a question in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that he’d talked to her dad, especially since her father had been walking around all week like a cat who’d stolen the cream. Anyway, if Ross had something to talk to her about, why wouldn’t he call her directly?

      “Danged if this isn’t something,” cried Ten Penny as she tottered through the door. “I’m finally a missus!” Everyone else was dressed in the usual jeans and shirts, but Ten Penny wore a purple feather boa around her neck and a beaded dress of unknown vintage.

      “Congratulations, Mrs. Dobkins,” Hannah said, giving Ten Penny a hug. “You look beautiful.” And she meant it. Maybe Ten Penny had a few wrinkles and a questionable reputation in the murky past, but none of that mattered today. She was beautiful…a survivor, a monument to stubborn determination in the face of great odds.

      “You sure made it all look

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