Page 9 of Montana Justice

Lachlan

I stared at the top of the baby’s head, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. The infant was so small, almost fragile-looking, dark hair peeking out from under a tiny knit cap, completely oblivious to the tension crackling through the break room.

“What’s going on here, Piper?”

“I’m babysitting.” The words tumbled out quickly, like she’d been rehearsing them. “For my cousin. She had to go on a trip for a few days, and the formula she left us was making his stomach upset. He’s been crying for hours, so I thought I’d try the hypoallergenic kind to see if it helps.”

Every instinct I’d honed over years in law enforcement was screaming that something was off. The explanation was too neat, too convenient. And the way she avoided my eyes while she spoke, focusing instead on adjusting the baby carrier with trembling hands—classic signs of deception.

“And you just happened to stop to buy formula in Garnet Bend?”

“I was already heading through this area.” She zipped the coat back up carefully, her movements protective around the sleeping infant.

“I didn’t want to wake him by taking him out of the carrier, so I kept him under my jacket.

That’s why I put things in my pocket instead of using a basket.

I forgot the formula was there when I went to check out. ”

The story had holes big enough to drive a truck through. But the baby was real and clearly needed care. And despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn’t bring myself to believe Piper would use an innocent child as part of some elaborate con.

Could I?

I studied her face, looking for tells, for the subtle signs that would give away a lie. But exhaustion had carved deep lines around her eyes, and her skin had a gray pallor that indicated genuine fatigue rather than nerves about being caught in deception.

The baby stirred against her chest, making soft sounds, and her hand immediately moved to support his head through the fabric of the coat. The gesture was so natural, so protective, that it made something twist in my chest.

“Stay here,” I said finally. “Don’t move.”

I stepped out of the break room and found Dave pacing behind the customer service counter, his anxiety written in every line of his weathered face.

“Well? What’s the story?”

“She says it was an accident. Claims she was trying to keep her hands free by putting items in her pockets instead of a basket, forgot the formula was there when she checked out.” I kept my voice neutral, professional. “She’s got a baby with her—says she’s babysitting for her cousin.”

Dave’s expression immediately softened. “Look, if she’s got the money to pay for it and it really was just an oversight…”

“She’s got the money.” I glanced back toward the break room. “Thirty dollars cash.”

“Then let’s just call it a misunderstanding and move on. I don’t want to press charges over something like this, especially not with a baby involved.”

Relief flooded through me, though I couldn’t entirely say why. “You sure about that?”

“Positive. Life’s hard enough without making it harder over an honest mistake.”

Honest mistake . I kept my mouth shut.

I nodded and headed back to the break room, where Piper sat exactly where I’d left her, one hand resting protectively on the baby carrier. She looked up when I entered, and I caught a flash of hope in her eyes before she quickly looked away again.

“Dave’s willing to let this go as an honest mistake. You pay for the formula, and we’re done here.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief so profound I thought she might slide right out of the chair. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Dave. He’s the one showing you mercy you probably don’t deserve.”

The words came out harsher than I’d intended, but I didn’t take them back. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down around her again, baby or no baby.

We walked back through the store in silence, Piper clutching the money in her hand like a lifeline. Dave rang up the formula himself, his smile gentle as he looked at the baby carrier.

“How old?” he asked.

“Almost five months,” Piper answered quietly.

“Beautiful baby. My grandson’s about that age—they grow so fast at this stage.”

Piper managed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you.”

Almost five months. I did the math in my head. Couldn’t possibly be mine. Glad I didn’t need to worry about that, but also, I didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d already been pregnant with another man’s baby that night we had sex.

I followed her out of the store, noting how she moved carefully, like every step required conscious effort.

The baby carrier added bulk to her frame, but now that I knew what was causing it, I could see how truly thin she’d become.

The coat—my coat—hung on her like she was a child playing dress-up in adult clothes.

“Where’s your car?”

She pointed to an older Honda Civic parked at the far end of the lot, rust eating at the wheel wells and a spider web crack across the passenger side of the windshield. At least she had transportation this time instead of hitchhiking.

“Whose baby is it, really?”

“I told you. My cousin’s.”

“What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Sarah.” The answer came too quickly, like she’d been prepared for the question.

“Sarah what?”

A pause. “Matthews. Sarah Matthews.”

“Where does she live?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

I stopped walking, and she was forced to stop too, turning to face me with obvious reluctance.

“Everything that happens in this town—including anyone wandering through accidentally forgetting to pay for stuff—is my business, Piper. Especially when it involves someone with your family’s track record. ”

The baby made a soft sound, and she automatically swayed slightly, a soothing motion that looked completely natural. Whatever else was going on here, she clearly knew how to care for an infant.

“You planning to stay in town long?”

“Just passing through. I’ll…be gone tomorrow.”

The smart thing to do would be to escort her out of town immediately.

But she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

The dark circles that shadowed her eyes were more distinct now, and there was a slight tremor in her hands.

I might not want her here, but she didn’t look in too good of shape to drive very far.

“Where are you planning to stay?”

“The motel.” There was only one in town, so that limited her options.

I fell into step beside her as we left her dilapidated car where it was and walked the two blocks to the Pineview Motel.

It was a relic from the 1960s, all angles and turquoise paint that had faded to a sickly green. But it was clean and affordable, and Mrs. Aldridge who ran it was good people.

“I’ll wait here,” I said, positioning myself just inside the glass doors where I could keep an eye on things.

I told myself I was just making sure Piper didn’t cause any more trouble. That this was about protecting the town, not protecting her. But as I watched her approach the front desk, something twisted in my chest at how small she looked, how carefully she moved.

Mrs. Aldridge looked up from her paperwork with a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, dear. How can I help you?”

“I’d like a room for the night, please.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Aldridge’s gaze dropped to the baby carrier, and her expression warmed further. “What a little sweetheart. They’re just precious at that age.” Mrs. Aldridge pulled out the registration book. “I’ll need to see some ID, and we’ll need a credit card or cash deposit.”

Piper fumbled with the wallet, her movements clumsy with exhaustion. When she handed over her driver’s license, I saw Mrs. Aldridge’s expression change, her welcoming smile fading as she read the name.

“Piper…Matthews?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Aldridge’s face went stone-cold. She set the license down on the counter like it had burned her fingers. “Matthews. As in Ray Matthews?”

Piper’s shoulders tensed, but she nodded. “He’s my father.”

“Your father.” Mrs. Aldridge’s voice was flat, controlled, but I could hear the anger simmering underneath. “Your father who convinced my Gary to invest our retirement savings in some bogus land deal nine years ago. Who took forty thousand dollars from us that we never saw again.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and venomous. Piper stood perfectly still, her face almost ghostly white.

“Gary worked thirty-five years at the railroad,” Mrs. Aldridge continued, her voice growing harder with each word.

“Thirty-five years of twelve-hour shifts and overtime and missing Christmas mornings because the trains don’t stop for holidays.

We were supposed to retire to Arizona, buy a little place with a garden where Gary could grow tomatoes. ”

“Ma’am, I?—”

“Instead, Gary worked until the day he had his heart attack. Died at sixty-eight years old in the railroad yard because we couldn’t afford for him to retire. Because your father stole our future and left us with nothing.”

The baby began to fuss, picking up on the tension radiating from Piper’s body. She swayed automatically, trying to soothe him, but it didn’t seem to be working this time.

“I have money,” she said quietly. “I can pay for the room.”

“I don’t want your money.” Mrs. Aldridge slid the driver’s license back across the counter. “I don’t want anything to do with Ray Matthews or his family. Find somewhere else to stay.”

“Please. I have a baby with me. I just need one night.”

“Should have thought about that before you came back to a town your family destroyed.”

The words hit Piper like physical blows. She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, the baby’s cries growing louder. Then she picked up her license with trembling fingers and turned away from the desk.

She walked past me without even glancing in my direction, her face a mask of humiliation and defeat. The automatic doors slid open, and she stepped out into the cold afternoon air.

I followed her back to her car, anger rising in my chest. Not at Mrs. Aldridge—I understood her pain, her need for justice that would never come. But at Piper, for putting herself in this situation. For coming back here and expecting anything different.

“Well,” I said as she fumbled with her car keys, the baby still crying in the carrier. “What did you expect?”

She didn’t respond, just opened the back door of the Honda and began the careful process of transferring the baby from the carrier to a car seat that had seen better days. Her hands were steady despite everything, practiced in the motions of caring for an infant.

“Choices have consequences, Piper. Your family made their choices nine years ago, and you made another one when you ran out last year.”

She still didn’t say anything, just buckled the baby into the car seat and closed the door. When she turned to face me, her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but her voice was steady.

“You don’t have to worry about seeing me again.”

Something about the quiet finality in her tone made me irrationally angry. “Good. Because if I did see you again, I might remember that the statute of limitations hasn’t run out on theft. I might decide to press charges for what you stole from me a year ago.”

She flinched like I’d struck her. “I’m sorry about that. I know it doesn’t make it right, but I am sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t give me back my three hundred dollars. And it sure as hell doesn’t give me back my favorite coat.” I gestured to the jacket she was wearing. “That coat has sentimental value. It was my grandfather’s.”

Without hesitation, she began shrugging out of the coat. “Here. Take it back.”

But as she tried to pull it off, something went wrong. Her face went white, and she swayed on her feet like a tree in a strong wind. I saw her eyes roll back just as her knees buckled.

I caught her before she hit the asphalt, her slight weight almost nothing in my arms. The baby’s cries grew louder from inside the car, and I could feel Piper’s body trembling against mine.

Fuck.

“Piper? Piper, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open almost immediately, confusion and embarrassment warring in her expression. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine.” I helped her stand but kept my hands on her arms, steadying her. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I… This morning. I had something this morning.”

The lie was transparent. I could see it in the way she couldn’t meet my eyes, in the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the way my coat hung on her frame like a shroud.

The baby was working himself into a full meltdown now, his cries echoing through the air around us. Piper tried to step toward the car, but I could feel her legs shaking.

“You can’t drive like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“You just collapsed in a parking lot. You’re in no condition to drive anywhere, especially not with a baby in the car.”

She tried to pull away from me, but the movement made her sway again. “I’ll figure something out.”

The temperature was dropping as the sun sank lower, and the baby’s cries were growing more desperate. Whatever was going on here, whatever game she might be playing, I couldn’t let her drive off in this condition. Not with an infant depending on her.

I pulled my coat back around her shoulders, hating myself for the softness in my voice. “Come on. You and the baby can stay at my house tonight.”

“What?”

“One night. You get some food and some sleep, then you leave first thing in the morning.” I opened the driver’s side door of her car. “I’ll follow you to my place.”

“I can’t?—”

“It’s not a request, Piper. You’re a danger to yourself and that baby right now. I won’t have that on my conscience. You come with me, or I put you in lockup and we call social services to get the kid.”

I felt like shit as what was left of the coloring in her face faded away until she was stark white. But I wasn’t letting her drive any distance when she was like this.

It was a safety thing, nothing else.

She got into the car without another word, her movements slow and careful. I waited until she had the engine started before walking back to my truck, cursing myself with every step.

One night. Food and sleep, then she’d be gone again.

I could handle one night.