Foothills Field Search, page 1
“I could go by your house and check to make sure everything is secure, if it’s okay with you.”
Cassie had been so relieved to see the girls, she hadn’t thought much about the continued threat to their safety. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind.”
“I’ll go by there now and meet you at the station.” Turning to the girls, Brady called out, “I gotta go. Winnie is pretty jealous if I talk to other girls for too long.”
Both Brook and Jilly laughed, but Cassie could hear the hollowness in their giggles. It made her chest ache and filled her with a righteous fury she wished she could rain down on Keith Norton. He’d not only stolen her girls, but he’d also taken away the precious safety and security they’d sought here in Jasper.
They had to find Keith Norton...
Or she would.
FOOTHILLS FIELD SEARCH
Maggie Wells
By day Maggie Wells is buried in spreadsheets. At night she pens tales of intrigue and people tangling up the sheets. She has a weakness for hot heroes and happy endings. She is the product of a charming rogue and a shameless flirt, and you only have to scratch the surface of this mild-mannered married lady to find a naughty streak a mile wide.
Books by Maggie Wells
Harlequin Intrigue
Foothills Field Search
A Raising the Bar Brief
An Absence of Motive
For the Defense
Trial in the Backwoods
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Brady Nichols—Lieutenant with the Jasper Police Department. Search and rescue specialist. Left Boise in hopes of finding the home and future he wants in a small town.
Cassie Whitaker—A take-charge single mom who has moved to Jasper in search of a fresh start for herself and her daughters.
Winnie—Brady’s K-9 partner, a two-year-old yellow Labrador retriever.
Brooklyn (Brook) Whitaker—Cassie’s nine-year-old elder daughter. A shy girl who is slow to trust.
Jillian (Jilly) Whitaker—Cassie’s seven-year-old, more outgoing younger child.
Dillon Diaz—Sergeant with the Jasper PD. Brady’s best friend. Dillon is also a K-9 specialist.
Keith Norton—A successful dentist Cassie dated before moving back to Idaho.
For Sally, the Labrador we adore. Your search skills may be limited to an unerring ability to find food, but you certainly rescued us. Here’s to all the pets and the people whose hearts they own.
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
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Excerpt from Newlywed Assignment by Barb Han
Chapter One
Brady Nichols’s date for the Daniels Canine Academy tenth-anniversary celebration party whined when he took the sharp curve a shade over the speed limit. They were late. He’d been running a full thirty minutes behind schedule the whole day, and his date was not inclined to be understanding.
So, he was rushing, and Brady hated rushing.
“We’ll be there in a minute.”
She didn’t look at him. No, she simply sat there, staring through the glass with such intensity he was surprised she didn’t cut a hole clean through the windshield.
Idaho wasn’t as overrun as Oregon and Washington had become in recent years, but still, he’d moved to Jasper to get away from Boise and all the complications the city held. He wanted a quiet life. He’d purposefully chosen a location where he didn’t have to be constantly vigilant, and he’d never regretted his choice. But his quiet life wasn’t actually very quiet, and he was getting tired of taking flak from the needy blonde beside him.
He let off the gas as they navigated the next curve, and the Daniels ranch came into view. “See?” he prompted, nodding to a car signaling a turn into Emma Daniels’s drive. He glanced at the clock on the dash, pleased to find he’d managed to recover about ten minutes. “Here we are.”
He swerved to park in the spot on the lawn the young man wearing a yellow mesh safety vest indicated. He recognized the kid as one of the at-risk youths Emma routinely put to work at the DCA. Kevin? Kayson? No, Kyle. His name was Kyle.
Winnie let out a high-pitched whimper of excitement as he set the parking brake. Beside him, sixty-five pounds of pure happiness shivered with anticipation.
“There. We made it.”
Winnie’s sharp bark was one of pure joy, and he leaned over to pop the latch on the harness he used to keep her safely contained. His reward was a big, wet kiss. On the cheek, thankfully. Sometimes, in her exuberance, Winnie forgot they were partners first, friends second and the most significant being in one another’s lives as a by-product of the first two.
He rubbed her silky ears, then looked her in the eyes as he stroked the dog’s cheeks. It was a calming technique Emma had taught him when he first started working with the spirited yellow Lab. She’d been barely more than a pup with big paws, gangly legs and an eager-to-please attitude.
“Hold,” he ordered, reaching for the door handle.
Winnie responded with another keening whimper of excitement, but stayed put. He climbed down from the truck and raised a hand to greet the young man in the vest. “Pulled parking duty, did ya?”
Kyle shrugged. “The safety vest is pretty lame, but it beats emptying trash all night like William. And poor Hugh, he’s the designated scooper,” the kid informed him with a wrinkle of his nose. “I figure most everyone who’s coming will be here in the next half hour or so.”
“Good turnout?” Brady asked as he opened the passenger door.
Kyle motioned for an incoming minivan to park in the spot beside Brady’s. “Yep. Tons of food too. People have been bringing stuff, even though Miss Emma told them not to.”
Brady smirked. “People around here hate to come to parties empty-handed.”
He ran a comforting hand down the dog’s flank. Anticipation had her muscles quivering, but she made no move to exit the vehicle. She wouldn’t until he gave her the go-ahead. He waited until he was certain the van was parked, then snapped his fingers.
Winnie barely gave him a chance to step out of the way. Her nose was pressed to the grass the minute she landed. She was trained from a pup to specialize in search and rescue, so Winnie’s first instinct was to sniff to get her bearings.
“Lots of your friends here today, girl,” he said, clipping her lead onto the vest she wore. Crouching beside her, he snapped twice, and she plopped her butt to the grass, her full attention on him. He framed her face again, stroking her smooth cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sure you’re psyched,” he said in a low, even tone Emma had trained him to use when not giving actual commands. At two years old, Winnie still had a few puppy tendencies. They were working on smoothing out the rough edges together. “Hang with me until we get situated, then you can run with the pack, okay?”
She blinked, but her amber-brown gaze never wavered.
“Good girl,” he said approvingly.
“Is he your doggy?”
The question came at him on a gasp of barely contained awe and delight.
Winnie’s gaze darted past him and her tail thumped the ground hard enough to stir the dust. Brady twisted, still in his crouch, and found a girl with long blond pigtails gazing at them in slack-jawed wonder. He pressed his hands to his knees as he rose.
“Yes, she is. Her name is Winnie, and she is a proud graduate of Daniels Canine Academy. She’s here for her homecoming.”
Winnie’s tail shifted from thump to full swoosh, and the girl beamed her approval. “Wow! She must be real smart. Mama says Miss Emma trains only the smartest, bestest dogs.”
“Your mama is right,” Brady replied, unable to resist returning her gap-toothed smile. “I’m Brady, and I’m a policeman here in Jasper. Winnie is my partner.”
The girl’s eyes widened to the size of quarters. “She’s a police dog?”
“She sure is. Say hello, Winnie,” he prompted, giving the yellow Lab’s head a single pat. At the signal, Winnie let out a bark of greeting, then panted with excited expectation.
“Jillian?”
A woman’s worried cry had all three of their heads whipping around. Seconds later, another slightly taller, but equally coltish girl appeared around the front of his truck. “She’s right here, Mama,” the girl called loudly. Then she eyed him with wary curiosity. “She’s talking to a man.
Brady tightened his hold on Winnie’s lead when a long, lanky woman with a mane of corn silk hair skidded to a stop beside the girls, an enormous purse dangling from her arm, and a covered dish clutched in both hands.
“Jilly, I’ve told you over and over you can’t run off—”
“But he has a police dog. He’s a policeman,” Jillian replied like this was all the defense she needed. “I was only saying hi.”
Brady aimed a cordial smile at the mother. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. “I’m Brady Nichols, ma’am. I’m with the Jasper PD.” He glanced down at Winnie, who’d shifted closer to his leg, exerting the barest pressure to her lead. “This is Winnie. She’s here to see some of her old classmates.”
The woman blew out an exasperated breath, then tipped her head in his direction. “Nice to meet you, Officer Nichols. You too, Winnie,” she added.
Her expression warmed as she shifted her attention to the dog, and Brady drew in a sharp breath. The woman was beautiful, but her looks weren’t her most potent weapon. No, it was the pure pleasure he’d seen in her eyes when she found herself on the receiving end of Winnie’s winning doggy grin.
He’d forever be a sucker for women who loved animals.
Glancing toward the large white tent erected between the main house and the outbuildings, he said, “I’m glad I’m not the last to arrive.”
“Oh no, we’re chronically late,” she said, her grimace wan.
Again, recognition niggled at him.
“I’m Jillian Marie Whitaker,” the smaller girl volunteered. “Can I pet your doggy?”
“May I,” her mother corrected.
Brady could tell by the well-rehearsed delivery this wasn’t the first grammar lesson she’d given on the fly. “Sure,” he said, bobbing a nod of assent. Jilly skittered forward, but he held out a hand to stop her. “Has anyone ever taught you how to approach a strange dog?”
She wagged her head so hard those long, silky pigtails whipped her face. “No,” she replied. “I mean, no, sir,” she adjusted, glancing over to her mother for approval.
Brady felt something in his gut loosen as he watched the silent exchange between mother and daughter. Turning his attention to the older girl, he motioned for her to join them. “Hi. I’m Brady. What’s your name?”
“Brook,” the girl answered shyly. Then, realizing her younger sister had set a more formal tone, she rolled her shoulders. “Brooklyn Ann Whitaker.”
Matching her serious tone, he said, “Nice to meet you both. All,” he amended almost immediately. He saw their mother shifting from foot to foot and readjusting the weight of the bag hanging off her arm. “But maybe we can put the lesson on hold for a minute. It looks like your mom might need a hand.” He stretched both arms out and signaled for her to pass over the covered dish. “I’d be happy to carry something for you, ma’am.”
“Her name is Mom, not ma’am,” Jilly interjected helpfully.
“Her name is not Mom,” Brook retorted. “Sheesh, don’t you know anything?”
“Girls,” their mother said in a warning tone. Returning her focus to him, she gave him a half-hearted flash of teeth. “I’ve got it, thank you. And my name is Cassie. Cassie Whitaker. And no, I’m not telling you my middle name.”
The well-rehearsed intransigence in her tone coaxed a bark of laughter from him. “No?”
“She won’t even tell us,” Jilly said in a confidential tone. “It’s a big secret.”
“It’s ridiculous and I hate it,” Cassie said, shaking her hair away from her face. “Come on, girls. We can meet the doggies later. I don’t want Aunt Vera to come looking for us.”
At the mention of the name, the puzzle pieces snapped into place. “Aunt Vera? Oh! Vera from the diner. You’re Millard’s niece,” he said. “I thought I’d seen you somewhere. You’ve been helping out at the diner, right?”
“Technically, Vera’s niece, but yes, I’ve been trying to help out here and there.” The screech of a public address system coming to life yanked their attention to the tent, and worry puckered her brow. “I have to get this over there.”
“You heard the lady, Winnie. Stop distracting these pretty girls.”
He watched as Cassie Whitaker strode ahead, her gaze fixed on the crowd wandering in from all directions. Brook hurried after her mother, but Jilly appeared reluctant to leave Winnie’s side. The stubborn set of her mouth spoke volumes about the rebellions she’d launch in the future, but for now, he wasn’t willing to get tangled in one. He liked his life easy and uncomplicated, and a pretty woman with two precocious children were three complications too many.
“Go on now,” he urged his new friend. “You get us in trouble with your mama, she’ll never let Winnie run with the likes of you.”
She must have enjoyed the notion of getting a grown man in trouble because she aimed her sunbeam grin at him again. “You think Winnie will let me run with her?”
“Definitely. You get on with your mama. Find us after dinner. I hear Miss Emma has a special obstacle course set up. That’s where we’ll be.”
With a soft “Yay!” she gave Winnie a pat goodbye, then skipped ahead to catch her mother and sister.
Brady forced himself to tear his gaze from Cassie Whitaker’s long, tanned legs, but it wasn’t easy. The white denim shorts were more flattering than the T-shirt and jeans she covered with an apron when working at Millard’s Diner.
Once they disappeared into the shadows of the tent, he steered Winnie toward the far end where he saw a few of his colleagues and Winnie’s fellow DCA alums congregated. At his approach, his best friend, Dillon, raised his can of beer in salute.
“You came,” Dillon said, gruff but sounding pleased.
Brady felt a blush prickle his cheeks but hoped his beard masked it. He wasn’t a fan of the spotlight, no matter how small the circle. He rarely attended these town shindigs, mainly because he wasn’t particularly adept at small talk, and so it was hard to imagine anyone would have missed his absence on this occasion.
“I did. The boss insisted,” he added, nodding to the dog at his side. Winnie and Dillon’s dog, Bentley, a spirited Australian shepherd mix, exchanged sniffs in greeting.
“Do you good to get out. Mix and mingle a bit.” Dillon gestured to Brady’s face, then rubbed his own cheek. “Starting to look gristly in your off-hours.”
“And since these are my off-hours, I don’t need any commentary from you,” Brady retorted.
“Saw you walking with Cassie from the diner,” Dillon said. “Cute girls.”
The switch in subjects was so abrupt, Brady gave his head a shake to settle the pieces into place. “Oh yeah. I didn’t recognize her at first.”
Dillon smirked. “Because you hardly look up from your plate whenever we’re in there. You really need to learn how to cook for yourself.”
“I can cook,” Brady argued. “But I don’t see the point in making a mess when it’s only me. I have better things to do.”
“Speaking of your to-do list, do you still need a hand tomorrow?” his best friend asked.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Brady confirmed. He was starting to frame the interior walls on the house he was building, and though he’d devised an elaborate system of clamping and positioning lumber by himself, the task went much faster when there was a second pair of hands on the job.
“No problem, but I only accept cash, credit or pizza and beer. No personal checks.”
“Pizza and beer it is,” Brady confirmed.
The words had barely left his mouth when Barbara Macy, the woman who kept all the balls in the air for the Daniels Canine Academy, stepped to the mic. There was a sharp burst of static, then the piercing screech of feedback as she removed the microphone from its holder. The crowd let out a collective groan, and at his side, Winnie concurred with a soft keening sound.
Barbara spoke into the mic. “I keep telling Emma a live mic is better than a dog whistle, but I still can’t get her to karaoke night at the Bart.”
Brady chuckled with the rest of the crowd. Bartwell Brewing Company had purchased a karaoke setup complete with flashing lights and two microphones for duets, but few of the town’s residents had been brave enough to jump onto the ministage.
