LITMIR.BIZ

      Joan Marlow Golan

      Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

      Baby at His Door

      Katherine Garbera

      KATHERINE GARBERA

      This story is set in rural Florida, a place Katherine Garbera knows well. She grew up on different ranches in south central Florida, producing crops of oranges and gathering eggs. “There is so much more to Florida than most people even realize.” The fictional town of Placid Springs is based very loosely on the city of Okeechobee, where her grandparents lived. Katherine is a member of Romance Writers of America, Novelists, Inc. and the Authors Guild.

      This book is dedicated to Kathy and Ed Garbera.

       Thanks for raising the wonderful man who is my husband and for welcoming me into your family as a daughter, not a daughter-in-law.

      Acknowledgments:

      Thanks to Kelley Pounds, who answered my questions

       on ranching and for being a good enough friend that a couple pages of questions didn’t intimidate her! Any errors are my own.

      The clerical team at DEP has been an endless source of

       support and friendship for me in the last five years, and I want to thank them all. Being a secretary isn’t always a glamour job, and these women helped me do a thankless job with grace and laughter.

      Thanks also to my family

       for their unending support and love.

      And lastly, thanks to Ann Leslie Tuttle

       for her insight and wisdom.

      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

      Epilogue

      One

      Evan Powell cursed whatever fate made the doorbell ring when he’d just stepped out of the shower. Working two jobs consumed all of his time and energy. He’d just finished his martial arts workout and relaxing afterward was the only part of his endless day he savored.

      The doorbell pealed again. He wanted to get it before his dad woke. Damn.

      Wrapping a large brown towel around his waist, he glimpsed his own visage in the mirror. He looked like a harsh man. The kind of man who’d lived a hard life. He knew the mirror didn’t lie. If anything it softened his image.

      He hoped to God one of his deputies was ringing the bell. Maybe Hobbs, his newest recruit, who was still wet behind the ears. A neighbor or tourist would probably run for the hills, seeing him. Except Florida didn’t have hills, he thought.

      He stalked through the dark house. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed one o’clock. If his favorite cow hadn’t chosen tonight to give birth he’d already be in bed and resting. Only an emergency would bring someone out at this time of night.

      He should take time to grab some pants, he thought. But he wasn’t feeling hospitable and didn’t really feel like making the effort of dressing. He paused by the locked gun cabinet in the living room to grab his weapon. The .45 felt right in his hand, something he never examined too closely.

      Pants were an option but his gun wasn’t. When had life been brought down to survive or die? he wondered. He knew it had a lot to do with the training he’d received in Quantico.

      He flicked on the porch light, then swung the door open, hiding the gun behind the barrier of wood and glass. A slender woman with slicked-back blond hair stood in the doorway. A gash on her head bled slowly, and her deep blue eyes were wide with shock.

      “I wrecked my car,” she said. Her voice had a slightly high pitch and no accent. She wavered on her feet, and he reached out to steady her. The feel of expensive silk beneath his fingers was foreign. For a moment he wanted to enjoy the sensation of caressing luxury, but he couldn’t. People who stared through shop windows at things they couldn’t have only ended up drooling on themselves.

      “Where?” he asked, reminding himself he was the sheriff and had sworn to protect and serve civilians.

      She gestured wildly toward the long, winding driveway and the highway. Had she walked from the wreck? She had to be exhausted.

      The harsh fluorescent lamp was punishing, revealing her shock and fatigue in stark detail. Her skin looked so fine it seemed almost translucent. He wanted to touch her. Her flesh couldn’t be as soft as

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