IN THE ARMS OF A HERO

  BAYTOWN HEROES

  MARYANN JORDAN

  In the Arms of a Hero (Baytown Heroes) Copyright 2024

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by: Graphics by Stacy

  Cover photograph: Eric McKinney 612Covered Photography

  ISBN ebook: 978-1-956588-66-8

  ISBN print: 978-1-956588-67-5

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Also by Maryann Jordan

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I am an avid reader of romance novels, often joking that I cut my teeth on historical romances. I have been reading and reviewing for years. In 2013, I finally gave in to the characters in my head, screaming for their story to be told. From these musings, my first novel, Emma’s Home, The Fairfield Series, was born.

  I was a high school counselor, having worked in education for thirty years. I live in Virginia, having also lived in four states and two foreign countries. I have been married to a wonderfully patient man for forty-two years. When writing, my dog or one of my cats can generally be found in the same room if not on my lap.

  Please take the time to leave a review of this book. Feel free to contact me, especially if you enjoyed my book. I love to hear from readers!

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  Author’s Note

  Please remember that this is a work of fiction. I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last thirty years have called Virginia my home. I often choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.

  These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.

  It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.

  I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used in order to create scenes or plots.

  1

  An old love song began, the melodic tune drifting over the gathering. Aaron could hear the sound of chairs scraping as couples stood and moved to the dance floor, but he didn’t take his eyes off the woman sitting next to him. The woman he’d spent the day observing made him wish he could turn back time to when they had first met. She was utterly captivating, and he’d so willingly let her go. Or maybe I ran like a coward.

  That thought gave him pause. He had never considered himself a coward, but those words had left his brother’s lips almost a year ago. Said about the very woman Aaron now gazed at.

  Pulling himself back from the brink of the cliff where people jump off when they drown in past regrets, Aaron returned his full attention to the woman who now sat next to him. She had taken a break, and he’d convinced her to sit, desperate for a chance to have her attention on him and not all the others.

  Standing, he held out his hand, anticipation now firmly etched in his expression. And etched deeper inside his chest if he were truly honest. A hint of renewed hope lingered in her blue eyes.

  Her pink lips curved into the most beautiful smile as she lifted her arm and placed her hand in his. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he gave a gentle pull as she stood. Linking their fingers, he guided her to the dance floor.

  The wedding ceremony had been a success, and the bride and groom had just left the reception after thanking their guests and begging the gathering to stay longer to enjoy the rest of the food and the DJ. The flight the couple had booked to the Poconos had been canceled, and the alternate flight was leaving an hour earlier than they’d expected. It was too late to move the wedding to an earlier time, but the couple had made the most of their reception. Guests stayed to continue eating, drinking, dancing, and talking with friends.

  Once out on the wooden dance floor, he sucked in a deep breath. The outdoor wedding venue had been exceptional. The sunset over the Chesapeake Bay had created a one-of-a-kind panoramic view behind the couple as they exchanged their vows. The briny breeze had been gentle, and the vows had been accompanied by the call of gulls over the diamond-sparkling water.

  The woman who held his attention had quietly moved around the venue and guests for hours as she photographed the event, capturing longing glances, smiles, kisses, and laughter. Aaron had no doubt that the couple would have a meaningful recording of their day.

  With her in his arms, he guided them to the edge of the dance floor closest to the water. The black of the night kept the bay from being seen, but the scattered wedding lights twinkled illumination on the surf lapping at the shore. The familiar song filled his ears, and his gaze was firmly settled on the woman in his arms who peered up at him. The feel of her body held close to his made his blood race and his pulse pound. She was different. Special. He’d known it then. He knew it now.

  He whirled her outward impulsively, then curled her back into his embrace. She threw her head back and laughed, the sound moving through him, making him want to hear it again and again. He bent forward, dipping her, and she clutched his arms as a squeal flew from her lips. Holding the position for a few seconds, he brought her up and pulled her close. Her smile was still wide, and a blush graced her cheeks.

  He wanted to kiss her. Really kiss her. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would be the first time he knew what he wanted, what he felt, and would fight to keep.

  The music changed, and once again, allowing impulsivity to guide him, he whirled her outward for a beat and then curled his body around as she came back toward him.

  A sound ricocheted over the water, and she jerked in surprise, losing her footing as she stumbled. She would have fallen to the floor had his hand not firmly held hers. Gripping her tighter, he watched in horror as oozing red covered her upper chest. Her eyes widened as they held his, and a guttural gasp left her lips. Or maybe it flew from his mouth.

  For an instant, he couldn’t move, but as her body became limp, he lowered her to the floor. Ignoring the cacophony of screams and shouts from the gathering all around, he watched as her eyes closed.

  2

  THIRTEEN MONTHS AGO

  “Hey, look! It’s open!”

  Deputy Aaron Bergstrom’s attention jerked from the road in front of him to the direction his partner was pointing. Just off the main road that bisected the Eastern Shore’s bayside from the seaside was a long, older building housing small businesses on the bottom floor and renovated apartments on the second floor.

  He and Deputy Lisa Perdue were responding to a possible burglary at the pawn store two doors down from where she was pointing. A new bakery had just opened, and it already appeared to be filled with eager patrons itching for a cup of coffee and a pastry.

  His stomach growled just looking at the decorative storefront. “As soon as we take this report on the robbery, I’m hitting the bakery before we head back on patrol.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Lisa said. “Looks like there’s a line, but if you don’t mind standing in it, I’ll be more than happy to pay for your coffee and treat.”

  He readily agreed, and they parked outside the pawn shop. For the next thirty minutes, he pushed aside all thoughts of the bakery as he focused on the task at hand. Aaron had been a North Heron Sheriff's Department deputy for almost three years. He followed in his brother's footsteps in joining the military right ou
t of high school, but his discipline was initially different. He went straight into MP school, serving as a Navy police officer for several tours. During that time, he worked to obtain his associate's degree, and when he left the military, he attended the police academy.

  Having grown up on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, he eschewed all offers from other localities, including large cities with higher salaries. He wanted to return to the Eastern Shore, where his brother was now serving with the Virginia Marine Police, and his father still lived in the family home where Aaron had grown up.

  Walking inside, they talked to the owner, Gil Stanhope. The front windows and door of the pawn store were undamaged, but Gil showed them the door leading to the alley in the back of the building. It had been jimmied with what looked like a crowbar.

  “Your alarm didn’t go off?”

  Gil shook his head. “My daughter closed up last night. I’ve talked to her, and she swears that she set the alarm as always. I can’t imagine she didn’t since she’s worked here for years. But no, Deputy, it didn’t. I haven’t had a chance to look at the security.” Gil’s face scrunched, and he shook his head. “But what is strange is that you would think the thieves could’ve taken everything of value, but they didn’t.”

  “What did they take?” Lisa asked.

  “They went to the case where we have estate jewelry and took four rings, three pairs of earrings, and two brooches.” He waved his arms around and said, “With all the electronics we have here, you’d think they would have gone for that.”

  Aaron had a lot of questions he wanted to ask but knew that the detectives would arrive soon. It was his and Lisa’s job to secure the area and ensure no evidence was disturbed. It only took a few minutes before he heard the arrival of the others. He offered a chin lift to Hunter Simmons and Brad Stowe, two of the detectives for the sheriff’s department. Lisa had begun to tape off the back door, and as soon as the fingerprint officer arrived, she assisted them.

  He walked around the store with Hunter while Brad interviewed the owner. “They had to know what they were looking for,” Hunter said, his sharp gaze moving around the room.

  Hunter had once served as an undercover narcotics detective for the Virginia State Police. He switched to the local sheriff’s department and fell in love with a woman caught in the middle of his operation. He and Belle now had a house with a bay view to raise their baby in.

  Hunter directed him to which areas needed to be taped off for the fingerprinting officer once he finished with the door.

  “Deputy Perdue, secure the office, please,” Brad said.

  Aaron knew the detectives would want to ensure the security feed was not disturbed or erased while they were there.

  “Got time to listen to the interview?” Hunter asked, looking at him.

  Aaron sucked in a quick breath. “Oh hell yeah.”

  Aaron had just started studying for his detective examination, and Hunter’s offer was an invaluable experience. Listening to the questions Hunter posed for the owner and his daughter when she arrived, Aaron was determined to commit them to memory. He watched the owners' faces, noted their expressions, and listened carefully to what they said.

  Stepping outside where the burglar entered, he gladly took the camera from Hunter and began taking pictures. Hunter knelt and inspected the area, voicing his analysis of the visual clues aloud so that Aaron could listen as he photographed where indicated. He returned the camera, saying, “I appreciate the insight, Hunter.”

  The stoic detective flashed a small smile and nodded. “You’ll make a damn good detective, Aaron.”

  “Yeah, when all the studying is finished, and I pass the exam.”

  “Got a timeline?”

  “I’m shooting to take the exam in the spring. Get the holidays over, and then buckle down to prepare for it.”

  “You staying here or looking to move on?”

  Aaron chuckled. “With Andy and Dad here? I’m perfectly happy on the shore. As long as there’s a position and Colt will take me.”

  Colt Hudson was the sheriff of North Heron County. He was also a native of the area and would probably remain sheriff until he retired, which was a long way off. Aaron found Colt to be a good man, an excellent sheriff, and a friend, so he would consider it an honor to be a detective under Colt.

  His stride was swift as he met Lisa at their parked vehicle. Glancing down the sidewalk, he noticed the bakery’s crowd had thinned, offering the perfect chance to check it out. He turned to his partner. “You want something? I’m going to check it out.”

  “Yeah. Coffee and any kind of pastry. I’m going to take a few minutes and return a call from my mom.”

  With a nod, he jogged down the sidewalk and pushed open the door, hearing the sound of a bell tinkling above him. He stepped inside, and his gaze roamed the welcoming interior. There were white tables with red and white chairs dotting the small area for those having their coffee and treats. A counter was on one side with bakery items filling the shelves. The scent of coffee, along with vanilla, chocolate, and cinnamon wafted past, and he inhaled deeply. A pretty redheaded woman with a sweet face was behind the counter, her bright red apron proclaiming the name of the establishment was hers in cheerful letters. Bess’s Bakery and I’m Bess!

  He chuckled, admiring her looks and confidence. She bustled through the door into the kitchen. Another woman moved down the counter, and his attention was snagged and then held captive. This woman had the same auburn hair and blue eyes as Bess, but something about her took her from pretty to beautiful in Aaron’s book. Her apron, which did nothing to hide her delicious curves, simply proclaimed the bakery's name, so he was anxious to learn her name.

  Her wide and genuine smile ignited warmth in his chest. A light blush graced her cheeks. “Hi, what can I get for you this fine morning, Deputy?”

  He turned on his charm and replied, “How about your name?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not on the menu.”

  “Too bad,” he quipped, aiming his smile straight toward her. “But I guess I’ll settle for two coffees and two of your favorite pastries.” He inclined his head toward the outside and added, “My partner sent me in and said she wasn’t picky.”

  The woman looked down at the case and nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip as though giving great thought to his request. “It’s very hard to choose which pastry I like the best. I was her official taste tester when my sister was developing all the recipes. But I would have to say her éclairs are beyond compare.”

  He grinned wider. “Then I’ll take two of those and see if I can find out more information about you. You just confessed that your sister is Bess, the owner.”

  “Perhaps…” Her gaze dropped to his name on his uniform, then lifted back to his face, her eyes widening slightly. “Perhaps, Deputy Bergstrom, I simply left you a clue. After all, you are trained in ferreting out information from clues, aren’t you?”

  He laughed as she turned her back to him and filled to-go cups with coffee. Looking over her shoulder, she found his gaze. “I’m sorry. I forgot to ask if you wanted room for cream and sugar.”

  “Room for both in both.”

  As she set the cups on the counter, she moved to the display case and placed two of the éclairs into a bag. She turned toward the back and called out, “Hey, Bess, the éclairs have sold really well today. Got any more?”

  “Thanks, Belinda! I’ll get some more out there,” Bess called through the open door leading into the kitchen.

  As the woman turned back to him, her eyes were sparkling, her smile still wide. “Okay, so much for looking for clues. I suppose if you were listening, you heard what my sister said.”

  He pulled out his wallet and grinned. “The beautiful woman has a beautiful name… Belinda.”

  She waved her hand in a shooing motion. “County first responders in uniform don’t pay for coffee,” she stated, pointing at a sign announcing the policy.

  Aaron was aware that several businesses along the Eastern Shore offered first responders in uniform a discount or maybe even a free coffee. Still, it felt like taking advantage of a new business to take them up on the offer. He especially wanted to leave a tip for Belinda.