Chapter Eight
What was it about hearing something he’d never expected to hear in a million years? Garrett felt as if a bomb had been dropped in his lap. Being a cop, he figured he’d seen and heard everything, from the odd, to the unusual, to the really stupid that had him merely shaking his head. But this was beyond anything he could ever have imagined.
His daughter.
His baby.
He could just make out Trinity in the candlelight as she walked over to the woodstove, carrying the baby in one arm and a pot of water in the other. She rested it on the stove and then walked back into the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle as the baby fussed.
“What are you doing?” It was all he could think to ask. She hesitated, maybe from his tone, but right now he was having to fight
