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Chapter 1

Brogan Rafferty had a vague idea of how life should be. He hadn’t ever lived it, but in his mind a picturesque image always formed: family, a small cozy home, people working together in love and loyalty…an ephemeral dream he’d never been able to grasp. He’d given up wanting it a long time ago.

But now, everything was different.

As he drove through Bramble, Kentucky, the old image materialized. Granted, the sun had just set and a rose hue bathed the houses, streets and even the numerous trees, making everything prettier than it might otherwise be.

What really struck him was the quiet. There were no shouts, no sirens, nothing breaking – or blowing up. The few people he saw – walking together or sitting on porches – spoke quietly while smiling.

Driving slowly, he made note of the old-fashioned houses with vividly painted trim and bright front doors, lights shining from the windows. Unlike the settings familiar to him, no two houses were the same. The styles, sizes, and colors all varied.

Porch swings and window boxes filled with spring flowers were a popular theme. Birds and squirrels played in massive trees. Brogan came to a stop when a deer bolted out in front of him, froze, then leaped away to disappear into the foliage. Wildlife was always a good sign of peace and tranquility. “This is the right place for us, Sugar. I can feel it.”

From the back seat, the baby made sucking noises as she feasted on her fist. Hopefully, he’d find the right address soon. She needed to be fed, and probably needed a fresh diaper, too.

Of all the things he’d survived in his lifetime – first as an emancipated youth living on his own, later getting through BUD/S and all the specialized training that followed, and then barely surviving an ambush and life-threatening injuries in the mountains of Afghanistan – caring for his tiny, precious cargo was the most challenging, and by far the most rewarding.

The mid-May weather was pleasantly warm, and spring rains had turned the grass and trees a lush green. Wildflowers grew in patches along the wooded side of the road, and occasionally on the other side, where he noted a few houses.

The further he drove, the fewer houses he saw and the more natural the landscape became, until the road ended in a T and he had to choose left or right. Shortly after turning, he located the lake house.

The sight of the tiny place, set near the water and well-tended, immediately warmed him. The glow of the sunset reflected over the rippling surface of the lake. All around them, flickering fireflies began to appear. Only a few at first, then more and more.

Who knew something as simple as fireflies could envelop him in a sense of rightness? He wasn’t a man to indulge indecision. He evaluated, planned, and then acted. The fact that he was now responsible for such a vulnerable little life had made everything different. These days he constantly second-guessed himself, but this, the decision to come here, the plans he’d put into place, they were right. They had to be.

This was the perfect starting point for a new and better life.

He would not fail.

Gravel crunched as he pulled his black SUV into the driveway next to an older pale-blue minivan. The baby was fussing in earnest now. Brogan would rather listen to his own bones breaking than hear that tiny baby girl cry. Nothing shredded his heart the way she did.

After hurriedly parking, he rushed to the back door, opened it, and reached for her. Getting her out of the car seat took him a moment, and then he had to grab up the diaper bag.

She was soaking wet, which meant his shirt was now soaked too.

Fortunately, it was a warm evening, though he wasn’t sure if it’d be too cool for a baby with a wet bottom.

“Shh, easy now, Sugar. I got ya.” Thank God he had a bottle ready to go. One-armed, he opened the back of the SUV, shook out a blanket, and settled her on her back. “Gotta get ya dry first.”

“Excuse me,” came a soft, quiet voice.

Brogan glanced up and spotted a slim blonde on the walkway. Keeping his palm on the baby’s belly so she couldn’t roll, he slowly straightened.

Pixie Nolan. Yes, he was here to see her–it was the main reason Bramble had seemed fated to be his new home. He’d thought to have a day or two, perhaps a week to figure out how he wanted to approach her.

Time to improvise.

Her gaze went over him, and when she looked up again, her blue eyes were comically wide. “You’re Mr. Rafferty?”

“Yes, ma’am. Cort Easton is expecting me.”

Though she continued to stare, her smile was shy and sweet. “Cort is also my landlord. His flight plans changed, and he and his wife had to leave a day early for a vacation. He asked me to give you the keys when you arrived.”

Unexpected, but still, he could handle it. “Thank you.”

“I, um…” She laughed at herself. “Sorry, I don’t mean to gawk, but you’re really tall.”

True, enough. At six-foot-five, he stood above many people. “Might seem so with you being so…” Calling her short might be insulting, so he substituted, “Petite.” She couldn’t be more than a few inches over five feet, with a delicate build that made it difficult to believe she was a mother.

“I’m Pixie Nolan.”

He knew that already because he’d seen a small black and white photo that hadn’t done her justice. “Nice to meet you.” When the baby gave a piercing cry, he said, “And this noisy bundle is Shayna Raye. If you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to her before she wakes up the entire town.”

Pixie stood there, illuminated by the moon and the golden glow of a porch light. Her nearness caused an unusual restriction in his chest that limited his air flow as if he’d just taken a blast of artillery fire, feeling like that odd suspended moment in time before a man realized he’d been hit.

It was the anticipation, he decided.

So much hinged on building an association with her. It was what the baby deserved, what was expected, and yet it was something he’d never had.

Sucked that he knew almost nothing about blood families. All he knew was brotherhood. Hopefully, that would be enough.

Her brows came together in a puzzled frown. “You have a baby?”

A rhetorical question, obviously. “I’ve got my hands full here, so my attention is needed. I’ve got the hang of diaper changes, but not so much in the back of my SUV.”

She inched closer and peeked around him. “Oh, yes.” With a light laugh, she said, “I’ve been there, done that, so I understand. Here, let me help.” She moved to the other side of him and retrieved a diaper from the bag, effortlessly opening it. “I’ll hold the bottle if you want to handle the rest.”

Damn, but he could smell her, a light scent of flowers and sunshine and possibly baby powder. The restriction in his chest increased. “You think it’s too cool out here in the night air for me to swap out her clothes?”

“It’s a warm night, so she’d be fine, but would you rather change her inside?” She nodded at his shirt. “You’re already wet.”

“True enough.” As he spoke, Shayna decided to wail again. “It was a long drive and she’s getting fussy.”

“Long drives make me cranky, too,” she said, and then, “I didn’t realize you had a daughter. Cort only mentioned one person.”

“Is it a problem?”

“No, of course not.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Carefully, Brogan gathered up the baby, settling her against his chest and getting the bottle back in her mouth without her getting out a single additional wail. He felt triumphant.

“Good job,” Pixie praised as she folded the wet blanket he’d used, wrapped up the sopping diaper, and grabbed the diaper bag. “Come on. I’ll show you the house. You’ll love it.” As she led him to the front door, she said, “I lived here with my son until recently. Actually, I’d have been happy to stay here, but Andy is so active now, Cort insisted he needed more room. I’m in the guest cottage just up the street.” She tipped her head to the left. “Over that way is where Cort and Marlow live. You’ll like them. Everyone around here does.”

A dozen questions came to Brogan, but he tamped down his curiosity. If he got too nosy, he might offend her. “You like to fish?”

She stepped into the house and moved aside. “No, but Cort does. Marlow and I just enjoy the sunrises and sunsets.”

“Go boating or swimming?”

“Not much.” As if confiding a secret, she said, “There are things in the water. Big fish. Occasionally a snake. Snapping turtles.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin. “Nothing that would hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard it all, but I still choose to stay out of the deeper water. My son and I sometimes sit in the shallow water at the sandy beach area where he can play, though of course I can’t take my eyes off him.”

“Where’s your son now?” For many reasons, Brogan was interested in meeting the boy. Pixie didn’t know it, but it was because of her son that he was here.

“It’s close to his bedtime, so he’s with a friend.” Again confiding in him, she said, “When I came here a year ago, everyone welcomed me. Even better, they all fell in love with Andy. I’m never short of babysitters when I need one, though I don’t like to leave him very often.”

Was that a hint? “Guess I’m holding you up.” He should have realized. “If you want me to sign something, show some I.D., we can take care of that real fast so you can get home.”

“No, it’s fine.” She smiled at Shayna. “Babies first, right?” Walking again, she said, “This is the sitting room; down that hall is the single bedroom and a bathroom. Everything you need is already there. Blankets, pillows, towels. Even soap and shampoo, though you probably have your own.”

He had a small overnight kit with a toothbrush and toothpaste, shaving gear and soap. Toiletries were not, and never had been, his priority.

“I have the paperwork here in the kitchen.”

Everything about the place was miniature. Small rooms, small furniture, and a kitchen that was no more than a single row of cabinets over a sink and stove, with a narrow pantry and apartment sized refrigerator. Good thing he was used to living lean.

The chairs at the two-seater corner table didn’t look sturdy enough to support a man of his size.

Pixie either didn’t notice his scrutiny or assumed he’d love the place as much as she claimed to. And honestly, it didn’t matter. He needed a safe, clean space for the baby. Nothing more.

She was his priority. Her comfort and security mattered more than anything else.

“There’s a stack washer/dryer in the utility closet.” She looked around as if seeing the tiny house again for the first time. “I know it’s a tight space, but when I lived here, it just meant less to keep up with. Babies, as I’m sure you know, require the lion’s share of your attention.”

Brogan leaned back on the counter, set the empty bottle in the sink, and put Shayna to his shoulder so he could burp her. While he gently rubbed her back in a circular motion, he agreed with her assessment. “Logic doesn’t apply, right? You’d think a tiny person with a smaller appetite, wearing only itty-bitty clothes and sleeping most of the time would require less care, but somehow it’s the opposite.” His little angel belched, squirmed a moment, and then got comfortable in the crook of his neck.

Christ, he loved her, more than he’d known was possible.

“Around the clock care,” Pixie said softly.

“Not that I’m complaining.” Never. Having the baby’s care entrusted to him was the greatest gift he’d ever received in his entire life. “It’s fascinating though.”

When Pixie grinned, he didn’t just see it, he felt it, clear down to his soul. Not even to himself did he want to sound corny, but she was like sunshine breaking through darkness. The magic of laughter after hearing so many broken cries.

She didn’t know it, but she was an open door when every other exit was blocked.

He hoped she’d be okay with his plans. Everything he’d read about her made it seem possible.

“You might want to get her out of those wet clothes before she falls asleep again. You don’t want to deal with diaper rash.”

Of course, Pixie didn’t know that she’d just stepped on a topic about as explosive as a landmine. He breathed a little harder, remembering things better left forgotten. He had Shayna now and he was determined she’d never suffer another ill.

Getting his mouth to smile wasn’t easy, but he forced it, adding a lighthearted truth. “This girl sleeps like a champ. I’ve changed her, and once even bathed her, while she dozed through it.”

“It’s amazing how trusting babies can be.”

It was especially incredible that this baby, after what she’d been through, could trust him – but she did. His voice emerged as a rasp. “When they’re feeling secure. When they have reason to trust.”

She tipped her head, studying him curiously. “As all babies should.”

Glad that she shared that sentiment, he nodded. “Hundred percent.”

“Do you have a crib for her in your car?”

“A Moses basket, though I’ll probably need to get her a crib soon. She’s started rolling over, and once she starts, she wants to keep going.”

With a quiet laugh, Pixie asked, “Clean baby blankets? Another bottle ready?”

It amused him to see her shift into mom-mode. He could take exception to her question, which suggested he couldn’t handle things, but obviously she loved kids and knew what she was doing. “Got all that,” he said. “Though I’ll prepare a few more bottles tonight.” Worries caught up to him and he admitted in a low voice, “Sometimes she’ll almost sleep through the night, like five hours or so, and it scares me. I almost preferred it when she was up every couple of hours.” It gave him the chance to hold her, to know she was okay. To tell her over and over that he’d never let her down, would never leave her alone, that he’d protect her always.

Reaching out, Pixie brushed the back of one finger over Shayna’s silky hair. “No other kids?”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t here for her until she was nearly two months old.” Remembering felt like having a part of his guts removed – without anesthesia. “I’m military and I was away…” Dying. Or at least that was what he’d wanted at the time.

To be left alone to quietly die. To join his brothers. To escape the gnawing guilt of surviving – when they hadn’t.

Then he’d gotten the news about a half-sister he barely knew, the niece he’d never met, and God, how it had invigorated him with purpose. He had a reason to go on. One hell of a reason.

“Cort was military, too,” she shared. “A Marine re-con sniper. He’s considered a hometown hero around here.”

“Once a Marine, always a Marine,” Brogan replied. He felt the same way. The military was now in his blood, the better part of him, the survival instinct that kept him going – and thank God it had, since Shayna needed him now. “As a SEAL, I had the honor of working with a few of those guys.”

“You’re a SEAL?” Awe sounded in her voice.

Damn it, why had he said that? He never talked about his service. She’d taken him by surprise, just tossing out Cort’s rank like that. She and Cort must be close for him to have shared it with her. Instead of answering her question, Brogan changed the subject. “What do you need me to sign?”

Pixie immediately took the hint. She took a seat at the table and turned the paper toward him. “Cort said you already sent the down payment and first month’s rent, so all I need is your I.D., and then if you’ll sign here, I’ll give you the basic rundown and leave you with the keys.”

Brogan knew he’d chased her off, but he’d tackle that issue another time. Right now, he needed to unload the car and get Shayna settled.

He held the baby close and withdrew his driver’s license from his wallet.

Pixie was quick to confirm his I.D. After he’d signed the paper and she’d put it in her purse, she sent a worried glance toward the baby. “Do you need help bringing a few things inside?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

“You’re sure? I wouldn’t mind…”

She had her face turned up to his while she nervously twirled two fingers in her long pale hair. Damn, he wanted to spill his guts, to tell her the important role she could play in Shayna’s life. Now was definitely not the time, though, not if he wanted full success. “I appreciate the offer, Pixie. Really, thank you. Right now, I think I just want to get my bearings.”

Still, she hesitated.

He smiled. “I promise, we’ll be fine for tonight. How about tomorrow you stop by and give me that rundown, maybe tell me a little about the town and where to find what?”

Nodding, she said, “Sure. Will noon work?” Without waiting for his agreement, she said, “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I’m going to add my number real quick, just in case something comes up.” Using the pen she’d given him to sign the four-month agreement, she jotted a number at the bottom of a long list that included police, fire department, hospital, and food delivery. As she hurriedly turned away to head for the door, she said, “Remote is with the TV. Outside lights are automatic dusk to dawn. Hot water doesn’t last too long, which is something I found out the hard way, so you might want to shower before doing any laundry. Oh, and Cort likes to make sure the basics are already in the kitchen cupboards, and some necessities are in the fridge. If you need anything else before noon tomorrow, just let me know.”

After saying all that, she practically clamped her mouth shut and rushed off as if being chased.

In case he’d somehow made her uncomfortable, he trailed more slowly behind her. The last thing he wanted from her was wariness.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, as she all but jogged to her van.

With a careless wave, she got in the vehicle and left.

Brogan stood there with the baby in his arms and watched as her headlights went down the road, then turned into another driveway. She was nearby, yet there was some property between them. A nice arrangement.

Presumptuous as it might be, he already imagined Pixie in their future, his and Shayna’s. She had a good heart; that much was clear. She wouldn’t deny them.

The only problem might be Cort. Pixie was obviously close to the man. Because Cort had a military background, he was bound to be protective. That meant he wouldn’t like Brogan’s plans.

The baby stirred, rubbing her button nose against his shirt, stretching a bit, then settling in again. He decided he’d deal with the issue of Cort when it became necessary. He wouldn’t let anything stand in his way.

“Now,” Brogan said, his palm moving up and down the baby’s narrow back. “It’s time for you, Sugar – and our fresh start.” He brushed his mouth over her downy crown, inhaled her sweet, comforting scent, and headed back inside.

It was time to get started.

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