She hated avoiding his questions, but her feelings for Sam were difficult to explain. She remembered his compassion from the accident as well as his determination to get to the truth, no matter the cost. She’d seen him a lot recently at the café where she’d met with the other bachelors. She presumed he was there to meet a wife or girlfriend. Then, after his mother mentioned introducing them and an article in the newspaper about his capturing Adam Montgomery’s assailant, Jessica had put the pieces together. Sam had been going to have lunch with his mother. “I saw you on the news tonight. How did the investigation go?”
Sam shook his head. “I’ve had better days. If I hadn’t had a date planned, I’d probably have grabbed a burger and worked straight through.”
“You have to go back to work after dinner?” She turned, suddenly aware of the cramped quarters, of how firm his square shoulders felt against hers.
“Afraid so. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
Jessica tilted her head. “Such as…the auction?”
“Such as your adorable daughter.” He laughed. “Surely you don’t think I’d refer to the bachelor auction as pleasant.”
“It’s going to be fun. You get to meet someone new, and it won’t cost you anything. What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t like being set up. And this screams of trouble.”
Amy mumbled quietly, and Jessica saw her bear on the floor. “It’s too far, sweetie, I can’t reach it. I’ll get it when we stop.” Jessica settled back into the seat, wondering if Sam could overlook her past enough to ask her on a real date. “I understand how you feel. A few friends are determined to find me the perfect husband, and the results have been atrocious. I’d just as soon stay single the rest of my life if they are examples of today’s average single man.”
“And you think I should be excited to throw myself out in the public eye for this kind of scrutiny?”
She laughed. “You’re a brave and courageous servant of the community. I’m sure you can handle one date.”
“I don’t see you putting yourself up for sale.”
Amy made a noise that sounded like a sick horse.
“If there had been any men on the committee, maybe they would have suggested we include bachelorettes, too.”
Amy said something again, a little louder.
“That’s a poor excuse.” Sam teased. “What’s Amy saying?”
“She wants to see the man on the horse. You know, the statue of the founder of Colorado Springs. You don’t have to…”
Sam turned toward the life-size statue of General William Palmer in the middle of the intersection at Nevada and Platte. Amy clapped. “She knew right where we were. That’s amazing.”
“And what’s your excuse? You didn’t even know what the fund-raiser was until Adam and Kate’s engagement party. Your mother is even helping. You could’ve given her suggestions.”
He didn’t say a word.
“So maybe you’d like to serve on the next committee?”
“To help raise money to educate victims about domestic abuse?” He didn’t even pause to think about it. “Sure. With the increase of domestic abuse, it’s long past time we do something. With all of the statistics and research available, I’ll never understand why anyone stays in an abusive relationship.”
Jessica couldn’t respond. He had asked her time and again after the accident how she got the bruise on the left side of her face. Something about it didn’t fit with her other injuries. She hadn’t told him the truth then, and she wouldn’t now.
Sam drove to the restaurant, a renovated firehouse in Manitou Springs, a quiet little town built into the tight valley of the rocky mountains. “I thought this might be an easier place to talk. It’s not nearly as busy as restaurants in the city.” Inside, the owner greeted Sam by name, and he in turn introduced Jessica and Amy.
Jessica took the opportunity to make a professional contact, giving her title at the shelter. “We hold fund-raisers throughout the year to support the education and counseling of victims of domestic abuse.” She explained how the shelter operated and started to go into their mission.
“I’m familiar with the shelter, and their mission,” the gentleman said. “I’ll do more than a gift certificate. I’d like to make a donation.”
Jessica couldn’t hold back her surprise. “Thank you, we would appreciate any support you could offer.” She handed him her business card with a promise to include him on the list of donors at the bachelor auction.
Jessica perused the former firehouse. She showed Amy the play area including a child-size fire engine, and introduced her to the two children at the Lego table. While she and Sam waited for a table to open up, they watched the kids play. The two other children were obviously friends, as they chattered together, trying to get Amy to talk.
Sam tipped his head to ask the question quietly. “Does she talk to the other children at her child-care center?”
“Not really. I’ve asked her pediatrician about it, but he’s not concerned. She was quiet before the accident, and it didn’t get better afterward. She’s an observer. She interacts. She just doesn’t talk much.”
“Does she talk to you at home?”
“Of course she does.” She couldn’t help the defensive tone that accompanied her answer. “She’s simply shy.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Sam looked tired and she felt bad for snapping at him. “I’m sorry, too,” she said with a wry smile. “It’s just that I feel guilty for leaving her at the center. It’s hard not to, when child care is one of the benefits. I thought it would be nice to have her close to me all day. With the money saved, I’m almost ready to start looking for our own house. I wonder sometimes if the turnover of children with so many residents coming and going is good for her, or if a small setting, like a family child-care home, would be better. Yet Deanne gives her so much love and attention, I can’t ignore that either. Even I can’t give Amy as much as I’d like to, after fighting back pain all day.” She looked up and realized that Sam was patiently listening to her. “I wish you’d stop me when I carry on like that.”
“I’ve never met anyone who can say so many words in one breath. Besides, it gives me a chance to know more about you.”
Jessica felt a small pang of disappointment. “Maybe I’d like to know something about you.” Something besides the fact he had no understanding of living with domestic abuse or the challenges of being a single mother.
“Sam, your table is ready.” The hostess collected two menus and a children’s packet from the conductor’s booth.
“Amy, come on, we’re going to eat now.” Jessica took her little girl’s hand, aware of Sam following them. He had some nerve judging her. She recalled all too clearly the days when she’d felt as if she could never overcome the challenges ahead of her. That feeling of incompetence flooded her now.
The table had the privacy and ambience that she’d want if Sam hadn’t made her feel as if she couldn’t do anything right.
Sam lifted Amy into the booster seat and set the packet in front of her. She grabbed the crayon and whispered to Jessica.
“Can you tell Sam what color that is, Amy?”
She held the crayon up and smiled.
Sam chuckled. “I love the color red. Can you color me a picture?” Then, as if sensing Jessica’s annoyance, he cleared his throat and wiped the smile from his face.
Jessica stared at the open menu, trying to hide her inner misery from his probing stare. Her throat tightened and her heart squeezed as she realized she actually cared what Sam thought of her. She wanted to prove to him that the victim he’d met so long ago was strong enough to help other women in the same situation.
Sam reached his hand out to touch hers. “Jessica, I wasn’t criticizing. Mom says I was born a detective. I never learned when to quit asking questions. I’m sorry.”
She bristled. It unnerved her that he’d known the instant things changed between them. “Am I that ea
sy to read?” Had she been this transparent the last time he’d questioned her, after the accident?
“Not always.” He opened the menu and did a good job of acting interested in what it had to say.
She found her standard Caesar salad with chicken, and Amy’s favorite, chicken strips. As soon as they placed their orders, Jessica pulled out her file of donations for the auction.
“Jessica.” His voice lost that impersonal, professional tone, and she was in no condition to deal with anything personal right now. “Could we start over?”
“Don’t, Sam. Let’s get on with business.” She had a critical fund-raiser to finalize, and back surgery on top of that. She didn’t need to take an emotional step back sixteen months. “We have several restaurants left to select from…” She thumbed through the businesses who had donated dining packages, tortured by the look of interest in his gaze.
“Ma’am, could I get you something to drink?” The cocktail waitress waited while she looked through the wine list and menu of fancy well-drinks, tempted to fall back to the crutch she’d once depended on to get through difficult situations with Tim.
“What do you want, Jessica?” Sam looked impatiently at her.
“Do you have cranberry juice?”
The woman seemed annoyed. “Yes, we do.”
“I’d like that with a splash of orange juice and a spritz of seltzer. And could I get a glass of chocolate milk for Amy?”
“Certainly.” The waitress looked at Sam.
“Whichever cola you have, and plenty of refills. Thanks.”
“Oh, Amy, you can’t color these.” Jessica grabbed the gift certificates from her, relieved to discover that she’d only colored on one. “Here, can you color the dog on the fire engine? See the dalmatian? Just like in the movie—”
Sam interrupted her. “I think dinner at The Ore Cart sounds nice. I hear it’s a great place to take a date.”
Jessica flipped through the stack again, annoyed to think he’d chosen The Ore Cart because Amy had colored the certificate. “You don’t have to take that one, Sam. I’m sure they will replace it. It’s only a piece of paper.”
“I like it just the way it is. Don’t exchange it.” His eyes danced with hers, only hers were tripping all over the place.
Jessica didn’t know how to take him, as the cynical cop he’d claimed to be this morning, or the charming suitor that he seemed to be tonight.
The waitress dropped off their drinks and a basket of bread.
“Fine. What kind of entertainment would you like? We have a few athletic packages—rock climbing, skiing…” She thumbed through the briefcase. Not finding what she needed, she lifted the bag to her lap and continued searching.
Amy reached for the rolls and knocked over her milk.
“Oopsie,” Amy said, wide-eyed.
“Oh, honey…” Jessica grabbed her files and set the entire bag on the ground, then righted the empty cup.
“Waitress, could we get a rag?” Sam gathered napkins and stopped the milk from going toward Jessica’s bag, then moved the condiments and silverware into a pile, ignoring the flow of chocolate heading toward him.
Jessica tried to dam the stream with her hand, but it quickly flowed around it and onto Sam’s khaki pants. She closed her eyes, willing this accident to disappear.
The waitress arrived with a clean dish towel ten seconds too late. Sam thanked her, then quickly wiped Jessica’s hand. “Accidents happen. This one’s pretty minor, don’t let it upset you.” After he let her hand go, he wiped up the table and then the floor. Their meal arrived, along with another glass of milk. “Why don’t we stop by my house for a few minutes after dinner and discuss the date?”
“Date? What date?” Jessica certainly didn’t want to chance disaster again during dinner, but she didn’t want to go by his house either. She could just imagine what Amy would find to get into in unfamiliar surroundings.
Sam looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “For the bachelor auction.”
“Oh, right. If you need to stop and change clothes, that’s fine, but I think a certain someone would do better if I put her to bed before we get the brochures out again. Maybe you could come into my apartment for a few minutes when you drop us off.”
“Sounds fine. Amy, how are your chicken strips?”
Amy looked up at Sam, opened her eyes wide and smiled. “Mmm…” She reached for her glass, which was less full this time, but just a bit out of her reach. Her tiny fingers repeatedly touched her thumbs like a clamp, her “word” for “some.” Jessica helped her with a drink, wishing she’d exchanged her briefcase for Amy’s diaper bag after all. So much for proving her success as a working mother.
They chatted about their childhoods, and Sam was surprised to discover Jessica had grown up in Italy, where her parents were teachers for the Department of Defense.
“I have family in Italy,” he said. “Dad met Mom in Rome.”
She smiled for what seemed like the first time since they had gotten out of the pickup. “I know. Your mom and I have talked about it. Small world, isn’t it?”
Sam nodded. “And getting smaller every day. So how did you end up in Colorado?”
“I met Tim in Italy. He was stationed there after basic training. What can I say, Italy’s a romantic country. When he left, I followed him.”
“You just left? How old were you?” Sam took a drink of his soda and set the empty glass on the corner of the table.
“We were old enough to elope. I told my parents and came back to the States. I was swept off my feet. I landed a couple of years ago.”
“How’s that?” With a crayon in one hand, he outlined a tree for Amy and encouraged her to color it. Amy pulled out a green crayon and colored the trunk and leaves all the same color. He drew a teddy bear and asked her what color bears are. Amy pulled a brown crayon from the bag. She seemed to like playing with Sam.
Jessica, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. She liked him, no doubt. But they were so different. She saw her parents once a year, and he managed to visit with his daily.
She looked up from her salad and into the depths of his brown eyes when he asked, “What do you mean you landed?”
Jessica stirred her salad while considering how much to tell him. “Life was different in Italy. Everyone has a glass of wine with dinner. No one thought anything about it. When we got back here, everything changed. Tim liked to get together with friends when he was home. I hadn’t realized how much we drank until we started planning to get pregnant and I quit drinking completely.”
“Unless my math is off, or you mean a second baby, two years ago your pregnancy was long over.”
“And so was the honeymoon. I finally put my foot down—” Jessica stopped herself. She hadn’t meant to tell him any more than necessary, and here she was airing all of her dirty laundry. She pushed her plate forward after barely eating half.
“Could I bring you any dessert?” the waitress asked, eyeing first Sam, then Jessica. When she saw Jessica’s red eyes, she looked back at Sam, as if he’d done something to cause them. “Are you okay, ma’am? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine, just recalling a bad day. No dessert, thanks.”
Sam answered without a second thought. “I think Amy and I need your peach pie à la mode, please.”
“Sam, she’s going to take all night to get to sleep after all that sugar.”
He smiled at her then, and Jessica knew she was in trouble. The tables had turned since their first introduction. She’d wanted something from him that night, but now, it looked as if he had his own plan in mind.
“Kids go wild from sugar? I thought I read research has disproved that theory.”
“Researchers didn’t test Amy. And honestly, I don’t have the energy to stay up with her tonight. That chocolate milk pushed her limit.”
He caught the waitress’s attention and changed his order, asking for a bowl of fresh Colorado peaches for Amy, instead.
“Think she’l
l buy it?”
Sam’s sly expression turned her heart to mush. He was a dangerous man. “Probably not, but it was very nice of you to try.”
The pie and dish of peaches arrived, and Amy devoured them before Sam had two bites eaten. Amy reached her fingers across the table and again pinched her fingers and thumb together.
“One bite, Mom?” he whispered to Jessica.
“Only if you’re willing to keep her busy later,” she threatened.
“Not a problem. Amy, say ‘please,’ and I’ll give you a bite.”
She motioned “some” with her fingers.
Sam backed away. “No, say ‘please.’”
Jessica held up her hand. “Sam…”
“Say ‘please’…”
“That’s not a good idea, Sam.” Jessica tried to warn him, but it took even less time than usual for Amy to lose her patience and pitch a royal fit. “Amy, no.”
Sam looked terrified of what he’d done and started to give her the bite anyway. “I’m sorry.”
Jessica held out her hand and blocked the spoon with the bite on it. “Don’t reward negative behavior, Sam. No matter how desperately you want her to quiet down. Finish your pie and we’ll meet you outside.”
She dropped a few bills onto the table, lifted Amy and her bag and made a beeline for the exit. Amy kicked and screamed all the way to the pickup, where Sam met them minutes later.
“I’m so sorry, Jessica.”
“Amy has no patience. It’s not your fault.”
Amy lifted her head from Jessica’s shoulder and reached out her dainty hand. “Pwease,” she sobbed.
“It’s all gone, sweetie.” He opened both hands to show her, and Amy dove into them. “Whoa, got her.”
Jessica let go and winced in pain.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded while her eyes filled with tears. Sam quickly helped Amy into her car seat, then made his way around the pickup.
“By the way, here’s your money. I didn’t expect you to pay. I invited you out tonight.”
Finding Amy Page 4
