Ruth Logan - Loving the Lawman

Safe in His Arms

Widowed and pregnant, Gianna Costanza comes to Kirkwood Lake with her world in pieces. She’s determined to put her life back together after her cop husband’s death, and romance definitely isn’t part of the plan. But when she meets her new landlord and neighbor, she knows she doesn’t stand a chance. Deputy Sheriff Seth Campbell is strong and kind, and more supportive than she ever imagined a man could be. Soon he’s sweeping Gianna off her feet. But she doesn’t know if he’s ready for an instant family—or if she’s brave enough to love another lawman.

Oh, that smile.

Her heart melted. Her fingers stuttered and a pin bit the tip of her thumb. She jumped back, not wanting to taint the fabric with blood, and Seth moved to her instantly. “Are you hurt?”

“No, just silly.”

He examined her hand, seemed to decide she’d live and dropped it back into her lap. “Sorry. You just looked scared there for a minute.”

“Only because blood won’t wash out of this fabric,” she told him. She pressed a tissue to the tip of her finger.

He smiled again, one that held the warmth of hope. “Well.” He stood and squared his shoulders. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Then I’ll get back to work.”

“Me, too.”

As she watched him cross the room, she knew she hadn’t spent time with an attractive man in a long while.

That slow, comforting gaze. The big, blue eyes.

He didn’t need her to impress him. She liked that. And she’d enjoy the opportunity to have a new friend, as long as that was all it was.

RUTH LOGAN HERNE

Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt…

Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website, www.ruthloganherne.com.

Loving the Lawman

Ruth Logan Herne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.

Blessed is the man whose quiver is full.

—Psalms 127:3–5

Acknowledgments

First to Mandy and Paul, who gave me permission to use their experience to help craft this story. I’ve loved them both for decades, and that their love brought us my precious “Mary Ruth” sweetens my days! To my grandmother Myrtle Amanda Herne, whose love for sewing and gardening skipped a generation and settled in me. To Tina Russo Radcliffe and Michelle Pecoraro, whose tales of growing up Italian make me laugh! Huge thanks to Bethany Jamison, who pre-edits, organizes me, gives me time as needed and makes me coffee. She might not think she’s great in the kitchen, but that coffee is huge in my book! And to my son Seth, whose sweet personality shines through the fictional Seth in this book. The love for Lego has morphed into a lovely new sales career. How fun is that? And always to Dave for loving me and working so hard for his family. His strength blesses each of us.

This book is dedicated to Amanda Grace,

for going the distance so often. Her strength and persistence brought me a beautiful grandchild, a treasure of my heart, our sweet little Mary Ruth.

I love you, “Gracie.”

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Checking his watch for the tenth time in an hour didn’t make the minute hand move any faster. Deputy Sheriff Seth Campbell frowned as he started to relock the door of his Kirkwood, New York, rental property. Boxes surrounded him in the retail area, but the person in charge of those boxes—his new lessee—hadn’t appeared as scheduled. And that meant—

“Seth Campbell?”

He turned, surprised, because the back door of the old-world-style building faced the street, which was where he’d been looking. The lakeside door, overlooking the quaint boardwalk lining the sandy north shore of Kirkwood Lake, hadn’t entered into his realm of possibilities as an entrance in January. An icy wind accompanied the woman through the door. She shut it quickly and turned.

Huge, dark eyes met his gaze. Waist-length black curls tumbled from beneath a jaunty cap. A muted knit scarf that screamed money was knotted around the neck of her short wool jacket. Blue jeans and leather boots said she knew how to dress for fun, but one look into the depths of those eyes and Seth knew she hadn’t had a lot of fun lately.

“Gianna Costanza?” He stepped forward and offered his hand.

“Yes.” She gripped his hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you after all our virtual back-and-forth. I tried calling—” she held up a cell phone “—but it appears reception in these mountains is about as spotty as mine was back home in the Adirondacks.”

“Technology is an amazing thing when it works,” he agreed. He swept a hand around the shop interior. “Does it meet with your approval in person?”

Her quick smile said the character and warmth of the vintage space pleased her, and that pleased him. “I should pretend it’s not up to par and see if I can whittle you down on rent, but that would be outright dishonest, because if anything, it’s better than the pictures showed.”

“Not too rustic or old-world?”

“Is there such a thing?” She shook her head, and when she did, the tumble of hair shifted right, then left, untamed by spray, which made him wonder if it could possibly be as soft as it looked. She laughed at his expression, which said there might be such a thing as too old-fashioned, and walked to the nearest wall. “No, this is perfect. The wainscoting. The chair-rail ledge for knickknacks and artifacts.”

“Dust catchers,” he noted, grinning. “My mother’s a big fan of them, too. Can’t reason it out myself. Just more to clean.”

“Must be a woman thing.” She smiled up at him, then motioned to the right. “And the apartment is through here?”

“Yes.” He led her through a curtained door and showed her around the unpretentious apartment. “I had time to upgrade the shopping space, but the living area hasn’t received any intensive attention from my hands or bank account yet.”