Page 12 of Sterling Heat

“You’re such a pain in my ass.”

“Well?” My younger sister glares at me.

“There’s nothing to tell. She came in here once, last fall, and I haven’t seen her again.”

Vale continues staring, like she doesn’t believe me. She resembles the pictures I’ve seen of our mother with her dark blonde hair and big brown eyes. She’s everything opposite the rest of us, besides the obvious that she’s female. She’s the youngest of seven. Our mother really wanted a girl.

I turn my gaze toward the street, the ambulance now gone. In its place is a sheriff’s vehicle.

“Shit. Here comes Stone.”

Our eldest sibling is about to enter my bakery and I brace for the interrogation. Stone will only be doing his job as head of public defense but just once I’d like him to cut me some slack as the youngest brother in our clan. Somehow, this is going to be my fault.

“Did I just hear that our baby brother delivered a baby?” Stone’s tall stature and broad shoulders fill the entrance. The tinkle of a bell over his head is a dichotomy. He’s no angel but he isn’t the devil either. He’s done what he could to keep this family together. I’m the only stray arrow.

“I’m not a baby,” I mock, sounding like one.

“You still look like one, even at thirty-five,” he jests. With his mostly silver, thick beard, I appear much younger than him as my hair retains the jet-black trademark of the Sylver men. Only specks of white freckle my temples, near my ears. I’ll never look as old as Stone, though. He’s wiser than all of us, having to grow up faster in many ways. I might be a little shorter than him, but I’d still take him to the floor if I needed to prove myself.

Speaking of floors, I need to clean up a mess. The paramedics gave me something to soak up the blood and liquid splattered here and there. Then it will be bleach city, and some heavy duty wood cleanser for the bench.

Fuck. I still can’t believe I delivered a baby in my bakery.

“So, what happened?”

“Woman had a baby, officer,” I snipe.

His responding chuckle is stiff. He’s a tense man.

“It was so beautiful, Stone,” Vale says to our eldest brother with hero worship in her eyes. Stone is like a father figure to her, especially as our old man turned out to be a piece of shit. “You should have seen Seb. He was so calm.” She rolls her eyes.

“I was calm.”

“You screamed for me like that time you got your finger caught in the stable door.”

“You closed it on me,” I remind her.

“And you squealed like a pig.”

I lift my finger. “And I still have a scar.” The mark remains from where I dragged my finger free of a closed barn door, pulling off a layer of skin over the joint. It’s a reminder that Vale has been my best friend most of our lives and I failed her when we were younger.

I failed most of my family when I was a kid, so the fact I just delivered one isn’t lost on me. I have no business handling a child, especially a newborn.

Vale wraps her hand around my finger and shoves at me, sticking out her tongue like we’re still those kids running around our land just outside of town. Back when we didn’t understand yet our dad was a dick.

“Alright you two,” Stone interjects, causing another flashback from our younger years. “Do you happen to know the woman’s name?”

“Enya,” Vale says. “Isn’t that beautiful?” Her eyes focus on me, watching me.

“Yeah.” My response is a little too wistful and I clear my throat. The pretty name suits the freaking gorgeous woman. Although I’d done a double take at her rounded shape as she stood here clenching her midsection. Her face was ashen. Her brow sweaty. Her fingers and ankles were swollen. Her belly was huge, but she practically glowed and I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone so beautiful in my life.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” Stone’s gone into interrogation mode, but I don’t know what more he wants.

“You should head to the hospital. You can interview her there.”

“But I’m asking you,” Stone levels me with that stern glare I’ve seen too often in my life.

“Am I under arrest?” Old defenses fill my voice. No matter what I’ve done to redeem myself, I’ll always be paying for the wrong I’d done. The hurt I caused my family. The shit I did. A stigma constantly hovers over me, like a dark shadow.