A Treasure for the Trooper

by Liz Isaacson

  “Just go in,” she told herself for the fifth time. It wasn’t that she had anything against Wren. The two women just happened to be polar opposites, what with Wren being the picture of perfection and all that. And Dawn…well, Dawn sat on the other end of perfect.

  She pushed open the door anyway. Said, “Hey, Wren,” at the same time her sister looked up. She jumped from her seat—well, she tried to. Being seven months pregnant and petite meant Wren couldn’t really jump anywhere.

  “Dawn.” She wore a perfect smile as if she really was happy to see Dawn, and came around the counter to hug her. “What brings you in? You didn’t get my text this morning?”

  “No, I got it.” Dawn held onto Wren for a breath too long, something her perceptive sister noticed.

  She held onto Dawn’s shoulders as she stepped back and looked at her. “So this isn’t a problem with the job.”

  “No.”

  “It’s personal.”

  Dawn had never been happier that Wren seemed to know everything, something that usually annoyed her to no end. “I, uh….” She cleared her throat. “I have a date, and I need your help getting ready for it.”

  Wren’s blue eyes, a shade or two darker than Dawn’s, widened, and a smile bloomed on her pretty face. “A date? It’s about time!” She bustled around the counter and started clicking on the computer. “When is it?” She glanced up, her expression horrified now. “It’s not tonight, is it? I mean, it’s three-thirty already. I suppose you might have something to wear, but—”

  “It’s on Saturday.” Maybe she could get away with not telling Dawn who she was going out with.

  “Saturday. Okay, Saturday’s doable.”

  Glad Wren thought so.

  “Who’s it with?” she asked, abandoning the computer now.

  Dawn looked away from her sister. “Uh, McDermott Boyd.”

  Wren sat back in her chair as if Dawn had pushed her. “McDermott—Boyd—wow.”

  “Don’t be so surprised,” Dawn said, starting to regret coming here for help.

  “You’ve rejected him for over a year,” Wren said. “Why shouldn’t I be surprised?”

  “Not over a year,” Dawn protested. It had been exactly a year since her car crash just last week. He didn’t start asking her out until a few weeks after that.

  “He’s very good looking,” Wren said, bringing the smile back.

  “Exactly why I need help.” Dawn leaned on the counter next to her keyboard. “I’m okay with my hair, but I need a cute outfit and my makeup never looks as good as yours.”

  “Makeup I can do,” Wren said. “Clothes—where are you guys going?”

  “Um, Parker’s in Beaverton.”

  “Lunch or dinner?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Is his daughter coming?”

  Wren gritted her teeth. “No.”

  “So something flirty and sexy and that says kiss me later.” Wren’s eyes positively sparkled.

  Dawn shook her head. “No. None of that. The opposite of that.”

  Wren sobered and leaned forward. “I’m confused.”

  So was Dawn. She sighed. “I’m…he can’t possibly like me,” she said. “I just need to look…more put together than I normally do.” She gestured to her plain blue jeans and floral blouse. “This is a step up from what I normally wear. He always sees me in joggers and a T-shirt at the police department. Just a couple degrees better than that is fine.”

  Wren stood and grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of the desk. “I think we can get you a couple of degrees up from joggers, sis. Let’s go.”

  Dawn suppressed a groan. She’d come here for Wren’s help, and she’d known shopping was a very real possibility. And if she was being honest, flirty, sexy, and something that said kiss me later sort of sounded like a good idea.

  Chapter Three

  McDermott paced along the end of his king-size bed, sure he should change his shirt again. “You sure it looks okay, baby?” He turned back to Taya, who colored in the spot where he normally slept. Thelma and Louise snoozed on the other side of the bed, completely unconcerned about his wardrobe choices.

  “I like it, Daddy.” Taya picked up a blue crayon. “It’s like this color, and it’s my favorite color.”

  He smiled at his daughter and walked over to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be home late. So you go to bed when Nana Reba tells you to.”

  “You’ll come kiss me when you get in?”

  “Yeah, I’ll come kiss you when I get in.”

  Taya selected a pink crayon and colored in one of the girl’s shoes on her paper. “All right, Daddy. Have fun.”

  He hadn’t told her exactly what he was doing, or where he was going, or who he was going with. He’d said he needed to go out and that he needed to look nice when he did. As he left her in his bedroom, he couldn’t help feeling like he was doing the wrong thing.

  No, he told himself. Taya would be fine. They’d spent the day together, first at the horse farm, and then in the strawberry fields. She was happy the pool would open on Monday, and he’d promised to take her right when they opened.

  He could go out tonight, guilt-free.

  “Nana, I’m headed out. She can stay up as late as you can stand her.” He flashed his grandmother a smile, hoping to get out the door without much fanfare, as he pocketed his wallet and picked up his keys.

  She hurried to set her knitting aside and get to her feet. He’d almost made it to the front door before she intercepted him. “You look very nice, McDermott.” Her fingers flitted along his collar, smoothing it down. “Are you nervous?”

  “No, Nana. I’ve been out with women before.” He’d tried dates with several different women over the course of the last year, but none of them held his interest. Because none of them were Dawn Fuller. She’d dominated his thoughts for a solid year, and he was nothing short of terrified that their date wouldn’t go well.

  “All right,” Nana said like she didn’t believe him. “Have fun.”

  He hoped he would. He shrugged into his leather jacket and headed out to his cruiser. He didn’t have another car, and he suddenly realized it might be stupid to show up in his police vehicle. “You have for your other dates,” he muttered to himself. “No one minded then.”

  Still, Dawn wasn’t an average woman, McDermott knew that much. He parked, climbed the steps, and knocked on her door, his pulse kicking into a new gear with each action.

  She pulled open the door, already wearing a smile. “McDermott. Hello.”

  He didn’t have enough brain power to speak. All of his resources were devoted to drinking in the sight of her waves of blonde hair, each falling in perfect curls over both of her shoulders. She wore a pink and white dress that hugged her body and flared at her waist. White heeled sandals completed the flirty look, and she clutched a purse the color of sunshine on a summer day.

  “You look nice,” she said, taking a single step forward and brushing one hand along his collar. “Blue suits you.”

  “Thank you,” he managed to say. “You look very pretty.” He offered her his arm, thrilled when she looped her hand through it and they went down the stairs together. Every cell in his body blazed with electricity and heat, but he managed to ask her about her family and then her job, neither of which she talked about much.

  The scent of powder and grapefruit filled his cruiser, and he realized it was a very bad idea to let her sit in his car. Now he’d have to smell her—and thus torture himself—every time he went to work.

  “So talk to me about this horseback riding thing,” she said.

  Thankful for something to talk about, McDermott said, “Taya and I go up to the horse farm almost every Saturday morning. She likes this big, beautiful horse named Cinnamon.” He smiled at his daughter’s exuberance. “And there’s a bunch of dogs up there she loves to play with.”

  “Oh, I love dogs.”

  “I have two golden retrievers,” he said. “They’re sisters. Thelma and Louise.”


  She giggled and crossed her legs, which only made McDermott want to stare at her for several long minutes. With great effort, he kept his eyes on the road, glad the beginning of summer meant the sun wouldn’t set for another hour or so.

  “Now that school’s out, she’ll want to go up to the farm all the time,” he said. “Nana Reba will take her sometimes, but they spend a lot of time at the strawberry fields too.”

  “I’d like to go do the you-pick,” she said, brushing her curls over her shoulder. “You can arrange that, right?”

  “Any time you want,” he said. “Sometimes we go up to help out before the fields open.”

  “Like, you volunteer? At your own family’s fields?”

  McDermott shrugged and turned into the Parker’s parking lot. “Yeah, sure. Stay put. I’ll come get the door for you.” Thankfully, Dawn let him play the gentleman and hold the door for her and they made it in to the restaurant. It was busy, with lots of people involved in their own conversations. He crammed himself against the wall to wait, and Dawn pressed closer and closer to him as more patrons arrived. He finally threaded his fingers through hers and turned sideways so she could fit easier.

  “Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t sorry about anything that was happening at the moment.

  Her hand tightened against his. Conversation was difficult in the loud lobby, but when they got to the table, he asked her if she still played the fiddle.

  She stilled in her motion of spreading her napkin across her lap. “I can’t believe you remember that I play the fiddle.”

  McDermott couldn’t seem to look away from her. “You won the talent contest for Strawberry Day three years in a row. How could I forget?”

  With the dim lighting in the restaurant, he wasn’t quite sure if she was blushing, but it sure looked like it. “I don’t play much any more.”

  “No? Why’d you stop?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Got busy.”

  McDermott didn’t think that was the reason why, but he didn’t want to play cop on this date. “You like your job, don’t you?”

  “Oh, sure.” She sipped her water as the waitress came to take their orders. She started talking about some of the escapades that had happened during her nightly cleaning, and McDermott enjoyed himself immensely.

  When he got back to her apartment, he tucked his hands into his pockets and hung back as she opened the door. “This was fun,” he said, telling himself not to ask her if she’d liked the date. He didn’t want to seem needy, and what if she said no?

  She turned back to him wearing a gorgeous smile. “You know what? I had a great time.”

  “So strawberry picking? You really want to do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m working Memorial Day, and I promised Taya I’d take her to the pool that day. I don’t work Tuesday.”

  “I work evenings,” she said. “We could go in the morning.” She fiddled with his collar, sending a thrill zipping through all his bones. “But not too early. I’m a late sleeper.”

  “You say when.”

  “Eleven?”

  McDermott thought it would be warm by eleven, but he’d sweat through strawberry picking if he could spend time with Dawn. “Want to stop by my place and pick me up?” he asked. “It’s on the way up.”

  “Sure.” She stepped up to him and tipped onto her toes. Her lips touched his cheek and she withdrew quickly. “See you Tuesday.” She moved into the apartment and turned back to close the door.

  “What about church?” McDermott blurted, regretting his words only a moment later. Sitting in church with Dawn would require explanations to Taya, and she wasn’t ready for that. He probably wasn’t either.

  Dawn blinked and he said, “Nope. Never mind.” He lifted his hand and backed up a step. “Good night, Dawn.” He made it down the steps and out the door into the cool evening air, a sigh hissing from his mouth once he was in the clear.

  “Real smooth,” he said as he climbed behind the wheel. He’d been out of the dating game for a while, though he’d gone out with a few women. Because as he’d just learned, there was a difference between going to dinner with someone he wasn’t interested in and one who made his heart hammer beneath his ribs.

  McDermott saw Dawn’s blonde waves when he got to church on Sunday. She didn’t sit by her family, but all alone on the left side. He wanted to talk to her, but he schooled himself into submission. He sat in his family’s regular spot, his daughter between him and Nana Reba. After the sermon he barely heard as he kept trying to catch a whiff of Dawn’s perfume, he let Taya run across the bridge and into Oxbow Park.

  “We’ll take Nana Reba back with us,” his mom said, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’ll come for lunch?”

  He turned away from Dawn, who’d just exited the church. “Yeah, of course.”

  They moved away, and he kept his eyes on his daughter as she skipped toward the swings and squirmed into one. His feet had just hit the bridge when Dawn called his name.

  He half-turned, so he could respond to her as well as keep watch over Taya. “Hey,” he said as she clicked closer in her heels. They lifted her up three inches, and he liked the shiny blackness of them paired with her bright red dress.

  His mouth turned dry, especially when she slipped her hand in his and walked with him across the bridge. “So it’s not Tuesday,” he said.

  She glanced at him, confusion evident on her face. “No, it’s not.”

  “You just seemed like you didn’t want to see me again until Tuesday.”

  Her mouth flattened into a straight line, and McDermott kicked himself again. Was he trying to push her away?

  She nodded toward Taya. “I wasn’t sure about her, honestly.” She paused, tugging gently on McDermott’s hand to get him to stop. “What have you told her?” She faced him, her chin lifting in a move of defiance. “How will you introduce me?”

  His fingers tightened on hers. “Taya is six,” he said. “So no, I haven’t told her much about the women I go out with.”

  “Oh, so there’s a lot of us?”

  “No,” he said. “One every once in a while, and all they do is remind me that they’re not you.” He groaned when he realized what he’d said, and he shook his hand out of Dawn’s. “Forget I said that.”

  Chapter Four

  Dawn could absolutely not forget what McDermott had just said. Surprise mixed with pleasure inside her, and all she wanted to do was meet his daughter, eat lunch with him, tell him everything about her life so it would stop festering inside her.

  “McDermott,” she said, at a loss for what else to add. His dark eyes stormed with emotion, and she hated that he’d removed his hand from hers.

  He kept his eyes on his daughter as he said, “If you want to meet her, you can. I’d call you my friend, because well, you are my friend, and I’m not sure we’re to the girlfriend stage yet.” He swallowed, and the word “girlfriend” prompted Dawn to do the same.

  “What does it take to get to the girlfriend stage with you?” she asked.

  His gaze flew back to hers, and the heat from it infected her right down to her pinky toes. “More than holding hands and going out to dinner once.”

  “How much more?” she pressed. She’d lain awake last night for at least an hour, reliving the date. Everything he’d said. Every time he’d laughed. What she’d told him. How he’d reacted to it. The whole evening had been exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

  She liked McDermott. They had gotten along real nice, as he’d said he thought they would. They shared several things in common, and she’d woken that morning wishing it were Tuesday so she could see him again.

  Then she realized she could. He went to church every week, same as her.

  “Look,” she said when he still hadn’t defined when a woman became his girlfriend. “I like you, but I’m….”

  “I already know,” he said. “I told you we could go
slow. You’re the one who came over and started holdin’ my hand again.” He smiled at her, a soft, simple smile that helped her relax. “My parents are having lunch at their place today. You could come.”

  Meeting his daughter and his parents in one day felt like a total girlfriend move. “I—I don’t think so.”

  “Too much, huh?”

  “Maybe I can just meet Taya for now. See if she likes me at all.”

  “She’s six,” he said again. “We’re not going to make our adult decisions based on how she feels.” He took a step toward her, stalling again when Dawn didn’t even move. “What?” he asked.

  “We’re not? You aren’t concerned about her reaction to her father dating? Getting remarried? Any of that?” She couldn’t believe she’d used the word remarried. What was she doing?

  Stop talking, she told herself as she sucked in a breath.

  “Look who’s thinkin’ really far down the road,” McDermott said with a flirty smile. “Honestly, Dawn. I think you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

  Pastor Peters had said something similar, and that only added frustration to Dawn’s humiliation. “All right, you’re right.” She stepped with him, careful to keep her hands tucked into her skirt pockets now, as she didn’t want Taya to see her holding hands with McDermott.

  “Want me to push you, baby?” he asked, his deep trooper voice gentle and loving for his daughter.

  “Yep.” Her toes skimmed the dirt, but she couldn’t really get a good push herself. McDermott stood behind her and got her going so high she squealed and laughed. “Slow me down, Daddy!” she called, and he obliged. “I’m gonna jump, okay? You tell me when I can jump.”

  “Just a sec,” he said, moving to stand in front of her now. Dawn’s heart pittered and pattered at the sense of family, their love for each other. She very much wanted to feel that, but she wasn’t sure of so many things.

  Her family was loud, obnoxious, overbearing. She’d never had private, sincere moments like this growing up, because there were simply too many kids, too much to do, too little time.