He opened a swinging door and gestured inside. “The kitchen’s plenty big enough for a table and chairs. Everybody hangs out in here, anyway.”
Patsy could see why. The antique oak table was huge and it was surrounded by oak chairs with bright cushions on the seats that matched the curtains hanging at the windows. It was a woman’s touch and she wondered with a twinge of jealousy who’d been responsible. The appliances appeared to be brand-new, including a state-of-the-art refrigerator that looked big enough to stock a month’s supply of food for a family of eight.
When Justin opened the humongous freezer, she had to laugh. Inside there were two half-gallons of ice cream and nothing else, except perhaps some unseen cubes of ice in the automatic ice maker.
“Kind of a waste of space, isn’t it?” she teased.
He shrugged. “I eat out a lot.”
“Is the other side any better?”
“See for yourself,” he said, opening the door to reveal a couple of cans of soda, some sandwich meat, a loaf of bread, a bottle of ketchup, a jar of mayonnaise, and a stick of butter still in its wrapper.
“Interesting diet you have.”
“I eat breakfast at Dolan’s, lunch wherever it’s convenient and dinner with my folks or Grandpa Harlan. This stuff is good enough for a late-night snack or an emergency lunch on my day off.”
“No lady friends to cook for you?” she inquired, all too aware of yet another odd little twinge of envy that came automatically with the question.
“Once in a while,” he conceded. “No one special.”
She could believe it. She could also believe that he didn’t entertain them here. The bare necessities weren’t meant to impress anyone. And any woman with marriage on her mind would have long since added her own touches to the room and seen to it that the refrigerator was stocked with tempting dishes meant to win his heart. She wouldn’t have stopped with the cushions and matching curtains.
Nope, Patsy concluded, this was the home of a dedicated, unattached bachelor, all right. She found that oddly comforting.
“Ice cream,” Billy demanded.
Justin hoisted him up and settled him on the counter, then reached into a cupboard and brought out a box of sugar cones. “One scoop or two?” he inquired, the question directed at Billy, but his unsettling gaze fixed on Patsy.
“One,” she insisted, overriding Billy’s demand for two. “And prepare for disaster. We probably ought to eat them outside.”
“We can take them onto the patio,” he said, scooping the rocky road into the cones and handing two to her. When he’d put the carton of ice cream back into the freezer, he picked Billy up and opened the back door to a brick patio and a medium-sized pool that sparkled with underwater lights. Billy clapped his hands in delight.
“Swim, Mama.”
“Not now, baby.”
She caught Justin’s surprised expression.
“He can swim?”
She nodded. “Like a little fish. He had lessons a few months ago. He loves the water.” Lessons had been a necessity with the huge pool in their backyard. Even so, she had had safety locks installed on all the doors leading outside to keep Billy from wandering out unattended, lured by the water and oblivious to the potential dangers.
“You’ll have to come over sometime and use the pool,” Justin said.
“We’ll see.”
She could see that there were more questions he wanted to ask, such as how a woman who’d been unable to pay for children’s Tylenol had afforded swimming lessons or had even had access to a pool. He was probably noting that, right alongside the expensive clothes he’d already commented on and the fancy car, and coming up with a background for her that didn’t add up.
“One of these days we’re going to have to talk about this,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
The comment confirmed her worst fears. Patsy sighed and nodded. “One of these days,” she conceded.
He nodded slowly, accepting that for now. A plaintive woof from inside broke the tension and had them laughing.
“Apparently Punk is tired of being obedient,” she noted.
“Should I let him join us or should we head back?”
“We’d better get back,” she said reluctantly. “Billy needs to get to sleep. And I have to be up early to get to work.”
He gestured behind her. “I don’t think Billy’s rest is an issue.”
She turned and found Billy curled up on a chaise longue sound asleep, his half-eaten ice cream cone melting beside him. Panic spiraled through her at the sight of the mess.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured, jumping up at once. “I’ll clean it up.”
“Stay where you are,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“But—”
“Patsy, it’s not a problem. The fabric’s washable. Even if it weren’t, what would it matter?”
She thought of Will’s quick, explosive anger over such minor accidents and wondered at this man who seemed to take the same thing in stride. “Are you sure?” she asked, unable to keep the uneasiness out of her voice.
“Of course, I’m sure,” he said, his gaze intent and filled with unspoken curiosity. “Relax. I’ll be right back.”
Patsy couldn’t relax, but she did manage to stay where she was and let Justin deal with the melted ice cream. When it was cleaned up, he hefted Billy into his arms.
“Let’s get this guy home and into bed.” He glanced at her. “Can you handle Punk?”
“Sure,” she said with sheer bravado.
The dog seemed to sense her uncertainty and tested her immediately, but one sharp command from Justin had him behaving.
Back at Dani’s Justin took the baby into the bedroom and settled him, then walked back to the front door. He lifted his hand to graze her cheek with his knuckles. Longing shimmered through her, a deep yearning for more than that gentle touch. For now, though—perhaps forever—more was forbidden.
“Thank you,” she said, fighting the breathless note in her voice. “I enjoyed the walk and the ice cream.”
In fact, she had enjoyed the whole evening entirely too much. It had relaxed her guard around this man. It had made her want things that couldn’t be. It would not do to repeat occasions like this too often, for both their sakes.
“We’ll have to do it again sometime,” he said.
“Sure,” she said, but she knew she would have to fight the next invitation.
Tonight had proved beyond any doubt that being around Justin Adams was dangerous. One day soon he wouldn’t settle for evasive answers. One day soon he wouldn’t settle for the quick brush of his fingertips along her cheek, as he was doing now.
Worse, one day soon, she wouldn’t, either. And that could be her downfall.
Chapter Five
Justin had a long and restless night after leaving Patsy. He’d lain awake most of it reciting all the reasons he ought to be fighting his attraction to her for all he was worth. Every instinct he possessed warned him away.
Even without the circumstances of their first meeting still fresh in his mind, he would have known that there were troubling aspects to Patsy Gresham’s past. She was too leery of any questions, too skittish around him. He’d noted her easygoing manner with most of the customers in Dolan’s the day before and concluded that her nervousness was directed at him. More likely, at his uniform.
There were a couple of obvious reasons for people to be afraid of a cop. Either they’d committed a crime, or they were trying to hide from someone and feared discovery. He wanted to believe it was the latter in Patsy’s case.
But who? And why? He wasn’t sure he was going to be thrilled with the answers to those questions, either. That probably explained why he hadn’t asked them the night before. If he discovered something in Patsy’s background that required reporting, he would be duty-bound to deal
with it. For the moment, it seemed to him it might be better not to know.
Looking the other way was totally out of character for him. That he was even in such a position was irritating as the dickens. He left for work in a foul humor, which didn’t improve when he walked through the door to be greeted by more questions about Patsy.
“Justin, how much do you know about the Gresham woman?” Tate Owens asked before he’d even had time for a decent cup of coffee.
As riled as he was by the question, Justin had anticipated it. He’d known the sheriff wouldn’t let the matter rest ever since Tate had come back from Dolan’s the day before. He’d found his conversation with Patsy worrisome. “The woman’s in some kind of trouble,” he’d said then. “I can feel it in my gut.”
Justin hadn’t been able to argue with him.
“Justin,” Tate prodded now. “What do you know about her?”
“Enough,” he said curtly.
“Did you run the tag number?”
“No.”
“You’re sure it’s her car?”
If Justin had been the kind of man who squirmed under pressure, he’d have been doing it now. He knew he should have run the check, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers it might yield. He hadn’t even demanded to see the registration.
“Sure enough,” he said curtly.
“I don’t suppose you checked the registration, either, did you?”
He scowled at Tate. “No, but—”
The sheriff stared at him. “Justin, you’re a better cop than that. The woman shows up here out of the blue, tries to steal from your cousin, and you ignore the obvious way to get a clear picture of what we’re dealing with? Why?” Tate studied him closely. “Damn, you’ve got a thing for her, haven’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then give me one good reason for not checking her out.”
“I did check. I ran through the stolen vehicle reports,” he conceded finally. He’d done even that much reluctantly, praying that he wouldn’t find a report on a fancy Oklahoma car in the stack.
Tate was only slightly mollified. “Anything there?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve spent more time with her than I have. What do you think?”
“I think she’s trying her best to start over. Maybe we ought to back off and let her.”
“What if whatever trouble she’s in follows her here to Los Piños?” Tate inquired. “We should be prepared for it, don’t you think? We can’t help her, if we don’t know what to be on the lookout for.”
Justin sighed. He had no argument with his boss’s thinking. In law enforcement, especially in a small town with limited resources, it was always better to be prepared.
“We need some answers, son. You know we do.”
“I know. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t take too long. Every instinct tells me that it won’t be long before all hell breaks loose. A classy woman with a baby and a fancy car, but no money...” He shook his head. “It has all the earmarks of a woman on the run from her husband.”
Hearing his own suspicion put into words made Justin’s heart sink. Every time a voice in his head had started to shout the possibility, he’d tuned out, refusing to listen. He’d looked for a wedding ring, but she hadn’t been wearing one. He’d wanted to believe that meant there was no husband. He was smart enough to know better. Rings would be the first thing she’d hide—or hock.
“Any sign she’d been abused?” Tate asked.
“No bruises, if that’s what you mean.” He had checked, surreptitiously studying every visible inch of her for fading marks on her pale skin. He’d been relieved by the absence of evidence. “That doesn’t mean she wasn’t, though.” He thought of the way she’d reacted to Billy’s accident with the ice cream the night before. She’d been too quick to leap to her feet, too panicked over such a trivial incident.
“What about the boy?” Tate inquired just as the same thought struck Justin.
“By God, I hope not,” he said tightly, consumed with fury at the slightest possibility that that was the explanation for Patsy being on the run. The one good sign was that Billy had shown no fear at all of him. If he’d been harmed by his father, wouldn’t he have been wary of men? He clung to that tiny shred of reassurance.
Tate cleared his throat and regarded Justin uneasily. “Son, are you sure you’re the best person to be checking into this. Maybe I ought to look into it myself.”
“Why?”
“Could be you’re too personally involved.”
“Involved? I just met the woman.”
“Ever heard about lightning bolts?” the sheriff questioned. “They strike without warning. Only takes an instant to change everything.”
Justin thought of the way Patsy’s skin had felt under his touch the night before, of the way her soft cheek had warmed, of the flicker of desire he’d been so sure he’d seen in her eyes. And then he considered how badly his body had ached the rest of the night with wanting her, with wanting more than that gentle, fleeting brush of skin against skin.
It meant nothing, he assured himself. Just a natural, hormonal reaction to a beautiful woman’s proximity.
“My objectivity’s not compromised,” he insisted, partly because he believed it, mostly because he didn’t dare consider the possibility that it could be.
Tate’s gaze met his and remained steady. Finally he nodded, accepting Justin’s word. “If that changes, let me know. You don’t just owe it to me. You owe it to her.”
“I will,” he promised. If the time ever came when he couldn’t do his job, surely he would know it, surely he would do the right thing. He wouldn’t let pride and pure cussedness stand in his way.
If he did, if it ever came to that, he would have to reexamine exactly who Justin Adams really was, if he really was the honorable, natural born lawman he’d always thought himself to be. Or if he was like any other man who’d bend the rules when they no longer suited him.
* * *
The vivacious woman with the sculpted cheekbones and short black hair beckoned to Patsy, then glanced around furtively.
“Where’s Sharon Lynn?” she demanded in a hushed voice.
“She went out to run an errand,” Patsy said, dropping her own voice to a whisper in response.
The woman’s smile was relieved. “Great. Then we can talk. I’m Jenny, Sharon Lynn’s stepaunt technically, but that’s neither here nor there. Dani should be here any minute. We’re planning a surprise bridal shower for Sharon Lynn tomorrow. Can you help?”
Patsy grinned, delighted to be asked to be in on the surprise. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”
“Get her there.”
“Where? And how on earth can I get her to go anywhere?”
“Well, that’s the beauty of it. We thought we’d have it at your place. I understand you’ve moved into Dani’s old house. Sharon Lynn will never suspect that. Maybe you could invite her to dinner or something. We’re going to have it right after she closes up here.”
Patsy thought about it. “I suppose I could manage that. I owe her a lot for giving me this job. I’ll tell her I want to repay her by having her over for dinner.”
“That’s perfect. Do you mind us having it there? I suppose I should have asked that first thing, but we were already planning it for Dani’s and now you’re there, so it didn’t seem to make sense to move it. In fact, it works out even better this way, if you don’t mind, that is.”
“Of course not. The house is Dani’s, after all. She’s been wonderful about letting me and Billy stay there.”
“You’re invited, of course. No need to bring a present. Sharon Lynn won’t expect it.”
“You don’t need to include me. I’ll lure her over and then Billy and I can just go out to eat.”
“Ab
solutely not. Besides, if you’re the one dragging her over there, you can’t turn right around and leave. And we all want to get to know you better. Seven o’clock, okay? We’ll take care of everything.”
“I’ll have her there,” Patsy promised, already looking forward to the chance to pay Sharon Lynn back for her kindness by helping with this surprise.
“Terrific. Dani said we could count on you. Got to run. I’m overdue at home and my husband tends to get restless, especially now that I’m pregnant.”
She was out the door before Patsy could blink, another whirlwind Adams entering into her life and drawing her into the family circle.
Weighed down by the assignment just given to her, she was a nervous wreck until Sharon Lynn returned.
Forcing a casual note into her voice, she asked, “Sharon Lynn, do you have plans for tomorrow night?”
A frown of concentration knit her brow. “I don’t think so, but let me check my calendar. I can’t trust myself to remember anything these days. Why?”
“I’d like to have you over for dinner after we close. Nothing fancy, but I really want to do something special to thank you for being so nice to Billy and me. I know you won’t have a spare second once all the wedding plans kick into gear.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s not necessary. All I did was give you a job and work you to death.”
“But after what happened the first time I came in here, a lot of people wouldn’t have been so understanding.”
“You’ve more than made up for that. You’ve only been here two days and already I can’t imagine what I ever did without you. You’re fitting right in.”
Patsy warmed under the heartfelt praise. It had been a long time since anyone had complimented her. Will’s constant carping had eaten away at her self-confidence, eroding it to the point that she hadn’t been sure if there was a single thing she could do right at all.
“All I’m doing is scrambling eggs and frying hamburgers,” she said quietly.
“It’s a lot more than that,” Sharon Lynn insisted. “The customers around here can be stingy with praise, but they already love you.”
Wildflower Ridge Page 6
