Carla Cassidy - Waiting for the Wedding

Dear Reader,

To me, there is something intensely romantic about a heroine who experiences for the first time the wonder of lovemaking with the hero—the man who will be her first, her last, her only.

Sherry Boyd is a special heroine, a woman who has given up her dreams of a wedding, a family and a future with small-town sheriff and ex-boyfriend Clint Graham. How wonderful it was for me to get to play matchmaker and see that these two loving people got their happily-ever-after.

I hope you enjoy their story and that you will find your own special happily-ever-after.

Best wishes,

Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CARLA CASSIDY

is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. In 1995 she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998 she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

To Kathryn and Carlee, I love you!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

The last thing Sheriff Clint Graham expected to see when he opened his front door on an early April morning was a baby on his doorstep. Yet, there she was, a bundle of sleeping baby wrapped in a pink blanket and resting in a car seat. Next to the car seat on the wooden porch was a small diaper bag.

Clint looked around. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, promising another glorious spring day. The light of a new dawn painted the tidy homes on his street in a lush, golden light. It was the kind of day that reminded him why he loved the small town of Armordale, Kansas.

He eyed the house on the left, then the house on the right. He knew his neighbors on both sides, knew they probably weren’t responsible for the surprise package. He studied the shrubs and trees, seeking the person who’d left the baby.

Nobody. There was nobody around, no cars parked on the street, no strangers lurking in the shadows. Nothing seemed amiss. Except there was a baby on his porch.

Unsure exactly what to do, Clint carefully picked up the car seat and carried the baby into the kitchen. He set the seat on the kitchen table and stared at the cherubic little face.

Pale wisps of blond hair adorned the top of her head. Her cheeks were rounded, her lips little rosebuds that trembled slightly with each breath. He had no idea who she was, how old she was or why she’d been left on his porch.

It was then he noticed the white edge of a folded piece of paper tucked into her blanket. Gingerly he pulled it free, not wanting to awaken her.

He opened the note, frowning as he read.

I’ve never asked you for anything since Kathryn was born. I’ve never asked you to be a husband to me or a father to her, but now I need your help. I’m in danger and must be gone for a week or two. Please keep her safe for me. When things are back to normal, I’ll return for her, then she and I will once again disappear from your life.

His heart thudded to a halt. The note wasn’t signed.

Was it possible? For a brief moment crazy thoughts filled his head.

No, surely not. He’d have heard something. Somebody would have told him. Somehow he’d have known. He shoved aside his momentary, outrageous thoughts.

He stared at the letter again. It was written on plain white notebook paper. There was no clue as to who might have written it. He set it aside, his frown deepening.

Danger. The note said there was danger. Had the mother dropped the baby off here because Clint was sheriff? Before he had time to fully assess the situation, there was a knock on his door.

He hurried to answer, afraid the discordant noise would awaken the slumbering infant. He opened the door and held a finger to his lips.

“What’s the matter?” Andy Lipkin, Clint’s deputy whispered. He held two foam cups in his hands, steam rising from the hot coffee.

It had become routine for the two men to ride together to the sheriff’s station. Andy bought the coffee in the mornings, and Clint bought the sodas on the drive home in the evenings.

“Follow me and be quiet.” Clint motioned Andy into the kitchen. Andy stopped short in the doorway as he spied the baby in the center of the kitchen table. On tiptoe, the big, burly man walked toward the table. “What’s that?” He set down the two coffees.

“Looks like a baby to me,” Clint replied dryly. “She was left on my doorstep a little while ago.” He handed Andy the note that had accompanied the surprise bundle.

Andy scanned the note, then handed it back to Clint. “You know who she is?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Clint exclaimed.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Clint replied. He stared thoughtfully at the sleeping little girl, then looked back at his deputy. He didn’t even want to think of what would happen when she awakened. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “You go on into the office, and I’ll figure something out here. I’ll try to come in by noon.”

Andy grabbed one of the coffees, and together he and Clint tiptoed out of the kitchen. “You going to call Social Services in Kansas City?” Andy asked.

Clint frowned, thinking of that sweet little baby being swallowed by the system. It was possible if he turned Kathryn in to Social Services, Kathryn’s mother would never get the little girl back. Until he knew the mother’s identity and the circumstances of the temporary abandonment, he hated to do anything so final.

“Not immediately,” he said thoughtfully. “I’d like to try to figure out what’s going on before I go the Social Services route. This is a small town, and usually people know each other’s business. Maybe somebody will know what’s going on with this baby and her mother.”

Andy nodded. “Okay, I’ll get out of here.” He walked to the door and opened it, then looked back at Clint. “So, if anybody calls and needs you, I should just tell them you’re playing nanny for the day?” He grinned.

“You tell anyone that, and I’ll file the points off your badge. Now, get out of here,” Clint said with a laugh. “I’ll call you later.”

After Andy had left, Clint went back into the kitchen and once again stared at the baby.

Who was she? Kathryn who? Where was her mother? What kind of danger threatened her enough to leave her baby on a doorstep?

He couldn’t very well play nanny for the next week or two. If he didn’t intend to turn little Kathryn over to Social Services, then he’d need to make other arrangements.

Sherry. The name instantly came to mind, bringing with it an enormous sense of relief. She would help. After all, she was his best friend.

Without giving himself a chance to think twice, he picked up the receiver and dialed her number.

She answered on the third ring, her voice deeper, husky from sleep.

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No. The phone did,” she said dryly. “What time is it?” He heard the rustle of sheets, then a squeal of outrage. “Clint Graham, how dare you call me at seven o’clock in the morning. You know I don’t do mornings.”