by Alice Sharpe
He glanced back at Faith in time to witness her smothering a yawn with her hand. She’d done it a couple of times already, and up close, bluish smudges showed under her eyes. When she caught him watching her, she shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Keeping late hours?”
“Not intentionally.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, intrigued.
She took a deep breath, seemingly on the edge of explaining, and then she shied away, glancing down at Colin again, running fingers lightly over his spiky hair.
Undercurrents. Issues. He’d bet the ranch she was in trouble, but what kind he couldn’t imagine. She didn’t seem the kind for trouble with the law—that left family, and she’d said she had no family here. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a boyfriend, however. So, what was worrying her at home? Something to do with the scars on her face and the limp?
“This isn’t fair,” he said.
“What isn’t?”
“You know all about me and I know nothing about you.”
“There’s not much to know,” she said.
“Married?”
“No.”
“Attached?”
“Mr. Tripper, really. The details of my life aren’t pertinent.”
“And yet, you aren’t getting enough sleep,” he said with a smile, to let her know he was on her side.
“It’s not like I’m teaching Driver’s Ed,” she said.
He laughed at that. “Okay, Ms. Bishop, I’ll mind my own business.”
Her smile held a note of wistfulness, almost as though she wished he’d push her harder. Mixed signals from this woman, that was for sure. Signals he wouldn’t mind getting to understand. Call it professional curiosity.
Sure.
She added, “Please, call me Faith.”
“Faith,” he repeated. It was a good name for her. “I’m Luke Tripper, but everyone calls me Trip. Now, tell me more about Noelle.”
She opened a folder with Noelle’s name on it and started handing him papers. He examined all the drawings and the handwriting samples of the child’s ABCs and listened to how bright Noelle was and how they wanted to test her and maybe put her in an accelerated program. During all this, he wondered what his sister would have done, what she would have wanted. This kind of thought played in his head on a daily basis, as he transitioned from glorified nanny to daddy. He was it. He was all these kids had. The only question was—would he be enough?
He came back into the moment when she dropped her voice. Colin had fallen asleep and she held him close, as though by second nature.
“My own mother died when I was about six, so I can identify with Noelle,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done without my dad and my big brother, Zac. Anyway, I know pretty well what Noelle is going through.” She met his eyes. “So, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for her, I would love to help. In or out of school, whenever. This is the first time I’ve lived outside of Westerly, away from my family, you know, so I have plenty of free time….” Her voice petered out and she shook her head again. “Listen to me go on and on.”
“It’s a very kind offer,” he said—and meant it. “Right now, though—”
He stopped when his cell phone rang. He had it out of his pocket and had checked the ID number before he realized he should have just let it ring. Years of always being on call had formed habits he was finding hard to break. Smiling apologetically at Faith, he said, “It’s my house. I think I’d better take it. I’m sorry—”
“Go ahead,” she urged.
“Trip here,” he said, and listened as Mrs. Murphy, his housekeeper, identified herself.
“Everything okay? This isn’t a good time—”
“No, everything’s not okay, and that’s a fact. Here I am at the house alone and you off with the wee ones,” the older woman said and proceeded to elaborate, her Irish brogue growing more pronounced the more agitated she became. He felt his own blood pressure rise as she spoke. A minute or two later, he clicked off the phone with the assurance he would take care of things.
Faith was staring at him, and the serious set of her very attractive mouth announced his own tension hadn’t been lost on her. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure.”
Her fingers brushed her scarred cheek and disappeared into her hair as she said, “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that you look so concerned.”
“You’re not prying, Faith. That was my housekeeper. She got home from her dentist appointment to find the police out at the ranch. They told her they discovered our babysitter’s car abandoned by a minimart, with the keys in the ignition.”
“That sounds odd, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Gina’s car is one busted fan belt away from the junkyard. She often parks on inclines, in case the engine won’t start. She says she hopes someone will steal it so she can collect the insurance.”
“Which doesn’t explain why you look the way you do.”
“No,” he said. It was one thing to leave your keys in the ignition out at the ranch, another on a city street. Face it, his gut was telling him something was wrong and obviously the police felt the same way.
How long would it take Neil Roberts to get to Shay, Washington? Less than a day. He’d had the time, maybe, though not knowing more of the details made assessing things like time difficult. But even if Roberts had gotten here, how or why would he connect Gina Cooke with Luke Tripper?
“I have to go,” he said, getting to his feet. “I need to talk to the police.” He pulled his hat on his head, grabbed his jacket, then looked down at the still-seated Faith, who had both arms wrapped around his slumbering nephew. Pausing, he took a deep breath. “Damn, I actually forgot about the kids for a moment.”
“Leave them with me,” she said, picking up a pen and quickly scribbling a number on a paper. “This is my cell. Call me when you get done doing whatever you have to do. I’ll take care of Noelle and Colin.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
“I’ll call Mrs. Murphy to come get them.”
“In this weather? Just leave Colin’s car seat in the front office.”
“You don’t know what you’re in for with that car seat,” he warned her. He dug a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “The second number reaches my cell phone. Call me if you need me. Meanwhile, tell me where you live and I’ll come get them in, say, an hour?”
“Well, actually, I have a few things I need to do. Just call my cell and we’ll meet. The kids won’t be in the way, don’t worry.”
Something was odd here, but he had the overriding feeling time was of the essence for Gina, so he let it go. “Thank you.” Before he left the room, he turned. Faith had gotten to her feet, the slumbering baby draped across her shoulder. She stood silhouetted against the gray skies visible through the windows at her back, her golden hair reflecting the indoor light. She looked at him expectantly, and all he could do was stare.
He had the oddest feeling about her.
“Is there something else?” she asked.
He shook his head and left.
Chapter Two
Half an hour later, Faith found out what she was getting into with Colin’s car seat. The sedan seemed to reverberate with the baby’s outraged protest.
“Noelle, honey, could you give Colin a toy or a cracker or something?” Faith asked, voice raised to be heard.
Noelle, strapped into the back next to her brother, said, “It won’t work, Ms. Bishop. Nothing works in the car.”
“I thought babies liked to go for rides,” Faith said, thinking of her nieces who always seemed to quiet down once the engine started.
“Not Colin,” Noelle yelled with what sounded like a hint of pride.
The weather hadn’t changed, except that the skies were darker than ever. Faith tried to think of somewhere besides her apartment where she could take small children and could think of not
hing. Shay didn’t have a mall or an indoor playground, and she hadn’t had a chance to make any friends outside the school.
“Where are we going?” Noelle asked, her voice smaller now, unsure, barely audible over her brother’s tirade.
“I don’t know,” Faith mumbled. And then, because there really wasn’t another choice, she added, “My place.”
After a few moments, Colin’s cries grew a little less raucous, and as Faith negotiated the wet streets, she thought back to her meeting with Luke Tripper.
As she’d confessed to him, she’d heard about him first from the teacher she replaced, and then around the school. The bus story had intrigued her from the moment she heard it, maybe because she’d brushed against evil last spring, barely surviving a malicious attack. To hear about a man who ran back and forth to an overturned bus risking his life to save others reassured her in some odd way that people were still good. The look in his eyes when he admitted he hadn’t saved everyone had touched her deeply.
So she’d wondered what he would be like—and had built a mental image of a hero: strong, fearless, able to leap tall buildings. Luke Tripper looked as though he was all those things.
He was as tall as her brother, Zac, but not as lanky, more muscular, broad-shouldered, body trim and fit, thick, dark hair cut short. And those eyes. Smoldering, yes, but also focused and intense. She’d found herself struggling not to tell him her deepest, darkest secrets.
Add to that a sophisticated air at odds with boots and jeans and a hat that looked as though it had been around the block a time or two. That inconsistency was due, no doubt, to the fact he’d only been a rancher for four or five months. Before that he’d been an FBI agent, rumored to have done covert work. The veneer left over from that career no doubt explained her desire to confide in him. Only her pledge to herself that she would solve her own problems kept her mouth shut.
Besides, Trip had enough troubles of his own.
Faith fought against a stab of pure, unadulterated self-pity. Sure, she missed Puget Sound, old friends and family, but she was in debt up to her eyeballs with medical bills and Shay was the only place she could find a decent job.
There was another reason for her decision to move, too, and it had to do with her father and brother. Last May, Zac had married Olivia, Faith’s best friend, and had adopted her four little girls. He was sheriff in Westerly, his life was busy and full, and he was happier than Faith had ever seen him.
Meanwhile, after twenty years of being a widower, her father had discovered love right in his own backyard with Olivia’s mother, Juliet Hart. The two were getting married in Hawaii over the holidays. Faith had told them she was too busy with her new job to travel to explain why she wouldn’t be at the ceremony. She hadn’t wanted to admit the truth: she couldn’t afford the trip. She hadn’t confided in either her father or her brother that her insurance hadn’t begun to cover expenses.
The point was, both the men in her life had moved on, and yet she knew their happiness was affected by her own sense of detachment, and it killed her. She was tired of pretending everything was okay and was determined to solve her own problems.
Where did that leave the little ache in her gut when she thought about Luke Tripper? In her gut, she supposed, buried and secret where it belonged.
Faith’s apartment was actually the basement of a two-story house in the worst corner of the worst part of Shay. The price for paying off her mountainous medical bills was living in a terrible neighborhood with a landlady named Ruby Lee who gave Faith the heebie-jeebies.
As she drove around the house to reach her private entrance in the back, some of her tension dissipated. The main garage was closed and the house looked dark. Hallelujah, it appeared Ruby wasn’t home. Faith parked under the lean-to attached to the garage.
“This is where you live?” Noelle asked as Faith helped her unbuckle her seat belt and collect her backpack. Noelle looked a lot like her uncle. Same dark brown hair, only on Noelle it was long and braided. Same deep brown eyes.
Faith took Colin out of his seat. The baby grabbed her around the neck and immediately stopped fussing, rubbing his damp eyes with a plump fist. Poor little guy looked tired.
“This is where I live,” Faith said as the rain pounded the fiberglass roof of the lean-to. Holding tightly to Colin and the diaper bag Trip had left in the school office, she took Noelle’s hand. “Let’s run between the raindrops to the front porch, okay?”
They dashed the ten feet to the feeble overhang covering the door. Faith struggled to keep up with Noelle, her left leg protesting a bit at the unevenness of the ground.
Juggling baby and belongings, Faith dug for her keys. She found they were unnecessary, as the door pushed open when she touched the knob. Had she forgotten to lock up when she left that morning?
No way. She couldn’t take the children into a compromised house. For a second she stood there, unsure what to do.
As she raced through her options, the porch light went on and the door opened wide.
Faith gasped as Noelle shrank back against her legs. A man of about twenty stood facing them. Dressed in black denim jeans and a torn black sweatshirt with a metallic lightning bolt bisecting the front, muscles bulged in his arms, jet black hair flopped over his forehead. He held a hammer in one hand.
“David,” Faith said, catching her breath and laying her free hand on Noelle’s damp shoulder. “You scared me.”
“I came to fix the cabinet you told Ma was bothering you.” His gaze slid to Faith’s hips and stayed there.
“Did your mother let you into my place?”
“I have my own key.”
“Your own key? Who gave you a key?” she demanded.
“I’m helping Ma. I’m taking care of things around here from now on. I’m taking care of you.”
Like hell you are, Faith thought. “Are you finished with the cabinet?”
“Almost.” He turned and walked back into the heavily shadowed room, disappearing into the kitchen alcove.
“Let’s get out of the rain,” Faith said, shepherding Noelle inside, turning on lights, trying to dispel some of the gloom. The basement, which she’d rented furnished, looked even worse with bright lights. There wasn’t a single Christmas decoration, and Faith could only imagine how cheerless it struck a five-year-old. The child stayed right against her legs as a few banging noises came from the kitchen.
“It’s done,” David said, appearing in the opening between Faith’s very modest living room and the kitchen. “You want to check it?”
“No. I’m sure it’s fine.”
David looked at Noelle again, then at Colin. “Ma said no kids.”
“I’m just watching them—they don’t live here.”
“Oh.”
“Well, thanks. But next time, please make an appointment.”
He lifted one lip, revealing a pointed incisor.
The door opened behind Faith. She and both children swiveled to look at the newcomer. Ruby Lee bustled into the room, closing the door behind her, sandwiching Faith, Colin and Noelle between herself and her son. She wore a black rain coat and silver rain boots, a silver rain hat riddled with holes, tied under her chin. Her makeup looked as though it been applied with a trowel. If today ran true to form, within six hours she’d be drunk, pounding on Faith’s door, makeup sliding down her cheeks.
“You fix the cabinet?” Ruby asked.
David’s reply sounded sullen. “Yeah.”
“Then go check the bathroom door.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Faith said quickly.
“You told me it wouldn’t lock,” Ruby said, narrowing her eyes.
“It doesn’t, but right now I have guests—”
“Now or never,” David said, stepping closer to Faith, his overmuscled body radiating a primal heat that made Faith want to gasp for air. She retreated toward Ruby. He added, “No time like the present, right?”
“I said no kids,” Ruby said, staring at Colin. For the first time,
Faith realized Colin’s tiny fingers had clutched her coat collar so tight it strained against her throat, half choking her. Could the baby sense the tension?
“Will you please both leave?” Faith asked.
“There’s work to be done. David is here now,” Ruby insisted, her eyes slightly unfocused, as though she’d started drinking early today.
“Then we’ll leave,” Faith said.
“You don’t gotta go,” David said, lifting the hammer, flexing his muscles. “Come show me what you want done. Ma can watch the babies while I…service you.”
“I’m not watching no kids,” Ruby said.
Faith’s mouth had gone dry at the innuendo in David’s voice. She looked at Ruby again, hoping her landlady would intercede; but that was dumb, help wasn’t coming from that quarter. She repeated, “If you won’t go, we will. But before we do, let me make myself clear. I don’t like people having keys to my home, not even you, David. It undermines my feeling of safety.”
“This ain’t your place, it’s mine,” Ruby reminded her. “And what’s mine is David’s.”
David advanced again, his gaze challenging. “Maybe you want me to come back later tonight after you dump the kids. Maybe you want a little one-on-one.”
It was all Faith could do not to punch him. She gritted her teeth and said, “Absolutely not.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You too good for me, is that it, Miss Bishop?”
At that particular moment, Faith didn’t know what to do about this situation, but she did know she wasn’t going to subject either child to another moment of it. Without answering David, she reached around Ruby and opened the front door. Noelle practically bolted, running back to the car heedless of the rain or the puddles.
Even Colin’s enraged screams as Faith backed down the driveway were a better alternative than one more moment in that basement hellhole. She glanced back once to see David standing in her open door, holding the hammer in one hand, tapping it into the open palm of the other, his belligerent gaze tracking her retreat.
THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME since Trip had returned to Shay that he’d had cause to go to the police station. The accident he’d been involved with earlier in the year had been handled by the highway patrol, while the fire that claimed the life of his sister and her husband had been investigated by the sheriff’s department, since the ranch wasn’t within the Shay city limits.
