LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Two

      Hope, Montana, was a small ranching community consisting of a few schools, a well-stocked grocery store and a Main Street that sported murals on the sides of buildings, celebrating the Old West history. A mayor with a flair for the dramatic a few years back had dubbed the place “the Town of a Thousand Murals.” There weren’t exactly a thousand, but Main Street certainly did give a history lesson. The Hope Sheriff’s Department was tucked between the local bank and a community hall, the side of which displayed an old-fashioned harvest with horse-drawn combines. The police station was a squat brick building, the office space cramped and out-of-date, and the parking lot only large enough to house the town’s cruisers.

      A warm summer breeze pushed across the plains, carrying the scent of ripening wheat from the surrounding fields. Hot prairie sunshine beat down on the dusty streets, and as Mike pulled open the police-station door, he waved to an older woman walking her dog along the sidewalk.

      “Hi there,” she called.

      “Hi, Mrs. Hyatt,” he called back, then headed in. He knew almost everyone in this town. He’d been raised in Hope and now served on the police force. That meant that most of the people he protected remembered him as a gangly kid, and he doubted that he’d ever completely grown up in their eyes. He’d matured into a muscular man, over six feet tall, but for the older ladies around town, he’d never stop being “that Cruise boy.”

      Mike blinked as his eyes adjusted from the afternoon sunlight. He pulled off his hat and held it under one arm as he headed inside.

      “I thought you had the day off, Mike,” Corporal Tuck Leavitt commented, looking up from his desk. He had a phone pinched between his cheek and his shoulder, the hold music playing loud enough for Mike to hear it clearly. Tuck had a big brush of a blond mustache and gentle, soulful eyes.

      “I do.” Mike tossed his hat onto his desk and sank into the creaky office chair.

      “Then what are you doing here?” Tuck took a sip of coffee.

      “Getting away. The nanny started today.”

      “Oh, yeah?” Tuck put up a finger and turned his attention to the phone as someone picked up. “Hi, this is Corporal Leavitt from the Hope Sheriff’s Department...”

      Mike turned away as Tuck went about verifying the alibi for a suspect. Like any other law-enforcement officer, Mike procrastinated his paperwork until either it was due to be submitted or he needed to avoid feeling something. As an escape, work always seemed better than a bar. At least he could get something productive done, and nothing was quite so numbing as filing a report in triplicate.

      He turned on his computer and flipped through some forms in his inbox. But his mind kept going back to Malory. She’d been there only a few hours, but she already had Katy relaxed and happy, the chaos of the past couple of days evaporating in her calm cheerfulness. There was something about that scene—so domestic and sweet. He couldn’t quite forget the solemn look on Katy’s face, her hands clutching Malory’s fingers as she lay on her bed.

      “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Tuck hung up the phone and tossed a folder onto Mike’s desk. “Alibi is rock solid.”

      “Figured.” Mike shuffled the folder into his pile of waiting paperwork, then turned back to his computer.

      “So, you hired a nanny,” Tuck said with a grin. “And how is Katherine liking her?”

      “She’s Katy now. Malory shortened it, and Katy seemed to like it better.”

      “Huh. Sounds like it’s going well, then.”

      Mike glanced up from the computer. “Can’t complain.”

      “So what’s she like?”

      “Too pretty,” Mike replied with a shrug. “I was hoping for a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and Mary Poppins.”

      “A spoonful of sugar with masculine shoulders?” Tuck laughed.

      “Too much to ask?” he said, grinning. “Instead, I got—” He stopped, not wanting to finish his thought—he’d only sound like a lout. She really was too pretty for comfort.

      “So what are you doing here at the station?” Tuck asked.

      “I don’t know. I feel like a third wheel back at the house. In a matter of days, my calm, relaxing home has turned into...” He shook his head, searching for the word.

      “Family space? Toys everywhere, snacks, crumbs, noise.”

      “Yeah, pretty much.” He chuckled. “At least you know what I’m talking about.”

      Tuck had a wife and four kids of his own.

      “It’s not so bad,” Tuck replied. “You’ll never sleep in again, or stay up late, for that matter, but it has its payoffs, too.”

      “This isn’t long-term,” Mike said. “I’ll sleep in again. Don’t worry about that. Anyway, Malory seems to have everything under control.”

      “Yeah?” Tuck didn’t look convinced. “You still think you can say goodbye to that little sweetheart?”

      “I’m

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