by Annie Jones
Why Shelby found that news unsettling, she didn’t want to think about. Instead she turned to her father. “I guess we’ve spoiled you by coming by for breakfast every morning.”
“Gotten to be a pattern, all right.” Her dad’s face lit as if he had suddenly remembered something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gleaming blue plastic card. “Fact, so much I guess you left this here one of them times.”
“My debit card?” Shelby couldn’t remember when she had used it at the café. Or when she had used it at all. She’d been relying on the stash of cash she’d taken out of savings when she expected to leave town. People all over town had donated the things she needed for Amanda’s care. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve used it since...Did I use it the day you were here, Mitch?” she said, turning around to look at her ex. “Mitch?”
“He took off toward Miss Delta’s after your dad came out,” Jax told her.
Shelby sighed. She wanted to believe Mitch had changed. She really did think he was trying. But it was so typical of that man to have headed off the minute the conversation wasn’t centered on him or something of interest to him.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Shelby’s father gave her another kiss, this time on her temple. “I’m taking my girl inside to show her off some. You ought to be more careful with your bank card, Shelby Grace.”
“Did your dad just try to school you on money matters?” Jax grinned at her.
“Mitch trying to be helpful. Dad being smarter about finances than I obviously have been. It’s a world turned upside down, I tell ya.” She met his gaze, and her heart leapt.
“I don’t know whether to help you set it right again or to tell you to hang on and enjoy the ride.”
He had said exactly the right thing. Exactly what she had been feeling. Shelby smiled. She wondered if, after the arrival of Amanda and the impending departure of Jackson Stroud, her world would ever be the way it once was. “I vote for enjoy the ride...while it lasts.”
“Okay then.” He gave her a nod. “Where shall we start?”
She looked at the card in her hand, then at the doorway through which her father had taken Amanda into a world of kindness and love like the baby had probably never known. They had found the baby with absolutely nothing and had given her everything when they gave her a home and love. But they couldn’t promise her those things forever.
“Start?” Shelby shook her head, then laughed. “I have a great idea. Let’s go shopping!”
* * *
Jax stood at the end of the long hallway in the mall in Westmoreland, waiting for Shelby to return from changing Amanda’s diaper. His fingers brushed the edge of the slim phone in his pocket. He could probably get a full signal here if he wanted to call his future boss and check in.
“If,” he muttered to himself, staring at his inverted image in the curved chrome top of a nearby trash can. He couldn’t help thinking of Shelby, marveling at how her world seemed turned upside down. He knew exactly how she felt.
And he didn’t like it. The night he pulled off the highway to grab a bite to eat at the Crosspoint Café, his life had been set. He had had plans. He had had a direction. He had...
“Everything is taken care of!” Shelby came striding down the hall, Amanda grinning in her arms.
He’d had nothing. And he had liked that. Nothing to hold him back or weigh him down. Nothing to stand in his way. Nothing to set his world on its head, so no reason to care if it ever got set right.
Shelby and Amanda reached his side, and his gaze lifted from his own image to the reflection of the three of them in the large plate-glass shop window across from them. In an instant, the world looked righted again.
“Let’s start at the baby shop over there.” Shelby pointed, and Jax put his hand on her back to allow her to step in front of him and lead the way. To everyone around them, he knew, they seemed a happy family. Shelby the perfect mom and wife, he the loving husband and doting daddy.
Those were not terms he ever thought anyone would ever apply to him, even mistakenly. The baby held her arms out to him, and he took her without a moment’s hesitation.
“Okay, you kept the conversation on all the things you wanted to look at for Amanda the whole drive here.” “And off the topic of making that plea or going over your old photographs,” he chose not to add. “But can you tell me why you feel you need all that stuff? I mean, you’ve had tons of donations from people all over town.”
“I know, and it’s been amazing, the outpouring of support.” She stepped inside the store filled with cribs and furniture and clothing and took a deep breath, as if inhaling the scent of the pastel candy colors everywhere—yellow, green, purple and, of course, pink and blue. “But most of those things were hand-me-downs. Bought with someone else in mind and easily cast off.”
“Some people would call that recycling. Good stewardship, you know.”
“You’re right. I get that. A waitress at the Crosspoint doesn’t save enough to give herself a fresh start in life without knowing a thing or two about good stewardship.” She stopped to look over a display of the tiniest shoes Jax had ever seen. She plucked up a pair that looked like satin ballet slippers and showed them to him, her eyes practically sparkling. “What do you think?”
“Personally, I prefer a good pair of boots.”
“I don’t mean for you.”
“I don’t, either.” He spun the display around half a turn and picked up a pair of pink and silver cowgirl boots no bigger than the tiny slippers in Shelby’s hands.
“Maybe we’ll get both.” She laughed. “Who knows, maybe her grandpa, um, foster grandpa, will finally get to work on that dream ranch and have her riding before she can walk.”
“Shelby...”
“But they are both precious and just perfect for you, Amanda.” She gave the child a kiss on her chubby hand. “No matter what, right?”
“Shelby, you know it might not work out that you have her long enough to see her ride a horse, much less take her first step.”
“I know, Jax.” She fidgeted with the baby’s hand-me-down outfit, getting it just so before she looked up into his eyes. “Why do you think I wanted to come shopping for her today?”
He had no idea. That’s right—Jackson Stroud, who prided himself on knowing the reason behind every person’s actions, had no clue about this blue-eyed waitress with a heart bigger than the state of Texas. “I asked you that question first.”
“So Amanda will have some things that are hers. Not secondhand. Not bought with love for another child.” Shelby’s voice cracked. She clenched her jaw so tightly that when she tipped her head back to try to stay the wash of tears in her eyes, Jax could see her swallow as if to push down a lump in her throat.
He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her head and tell her it was a good thing she was doing and not to cry.
Before he could reach for her, she moved away, touching things in the store as if they were precious treasures as she went along. “Most people have that, you know? A stuffed animal, a pair of booties, a photo, some keepsake from when they were a baby. Something that tells them, ‘From the very first day God placed you in my heart, you were loved.’”
Now Jax had a lump in his throat. He thought of the blanket he had carried in his luggage from foster home to foster home and had tucked under his pillow for years, until it was nothing more than a rag. He had eventually retired it to a trunk that was now sitting in storage in Florida, waiting for him to come claim it. His mom had wrapped him in that blanket when he was a newborn, and it was all he had left of her. Even he, jaded and seemingly forsaken as he was by his later childhood, had what Shelby wanted to give Amanda.
“Okay then, let’s get them both.” He put the cowgirl boots on top of the ballet slippers, then glanced around. “I think we’re going to need a shopping cart.”
They filled up two baskets the shop provided before they moved to the checkout.
“When we’re through here, I’ll take this stuff to the van and we’ll see what else we can find for her,” Jax offered.
“Oh, what a darlin’, darlin’ little girl. How old is she?” the clerk asked as she began ringing up the purchases one by one.
“Almost four months,” Shelby said, touching her finger to the baby’s nub of a nose.
“Only four months? And look at you! You’ve already got your figure back! She’s your first, I’ll wager.”
“Well, she’s—”
“I have three. All boys. What I wouldn’t give for a reason to buy one of these.” The clerk peered closely at the tag on a bright pink tutu, never even noticing the discomfort in Shelby’s expression as she shifted her weight and tried to explain the situation. “I tell you, I have yet to lose those last ten pounds of baby fat after my youngest was born.”
“Really, I never—”
“How old is your youngest?” Jax stepped in to protect Shelby from getting emotional over having to tell Amanda’s story again. If Shelby knew that was why he had done it, she’d probably have a fit, he realized. So, he decided on the spot, if the diversion didn’t work, he’d try something new. Anything to keep the tears out of those blue eyes.
“My youngest? Oh, he’s nine.”
“Months?” Jax asked, even as Shelby glowered at him for butting in.
“Years!” The clerk laughed and hit the total button. She announced the price, accepted Shelby’s debit card and swiped it through the slot in the front of the machine. “Just put your pin number in there.”
Shelby obeyed, then held out her hand to take the card back.
The clerk started to hand it over, eyes on the digital screen in front of her, then froze. “Oh, dear.”
“What?” Selby leaned in to try to get a peek at what had the clerk obviously unsettled.
“Your card was denied.”
“It must be a mistake. I know for a fact I have plenty of money in that account. Can we try it again?”
They did, with the same result.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s not giving me any information on this end.” The clerk frowned. “Do you think you could have reached the one-day limit on your account?”
“This is the first time I’ve used it in days.”
“Because it was out of your hands for days.” Jax hated to sound like a cop bringing up an ugly and uncomfortable possibility. “I think we better make a call to the bank.”
Chapter Eleven
“A thousand dollars is a lot of money to me.” The printout of her bank account’s activity rattled in Shelby’s hand. She scanned the numbers again, then again, before she finally laid it down on Sheriff Andy’s desk for him to look over. Then, before he could actually do that, she began pointing out where the money had gone. “Five hundred of it since midnight last night, buying things online. That was my limit for the day.”
Sheriff Andy adjusted his reading glasses, pursed his lips and finally had to snatch away the page to give it a good long look. “Looks like the thief played it smart at first. Spent a little bit here, a little there, so you wouldn’t notice. Just like the others.”
“Others?” Jax folded his arms.
When he first followed them into the office, lined with file cabinets and an American flag, a big metal desk and chairs, Shelby worried she’d feel overwhelmed by his nearness. Now she realized Jax would ask the questions the situation had her too frazzled to ask.
“Had three other cases of local folks reporting money missing from their accounts.” Sheriff Andy flipped open a file on his desk and laid Shelby’s bank statement on top of the pile of papers inside. “May be some more belonging to people just passing through that we don’t even know about, and some folks may not have caught on yet.”
“It’s my fault. I should have known my card had gone missing.” She wasn’t sure whether to be angry or burst into tears.
“You’ve had a lot on your plate, Shelby.” Sheriff Andy gave her a fatherly pat on the hand. “What with caring for Amanda and doing all you can to figure out who might have left her.”
Shelby pressed her lips together. Her heart grew even heavier with the knowledge that she had tried harder to find Amanda’s mother.
“Any progress on that from your end?” Jax stepped in to ask the sheriff.
“Doc Lovey has kept her ears open.” He absently bent the shell of his ear forward as he studied the file before him and kept speaking. “Which, speaking strictly as her darlin’ husband of thirty-six years, is an accomplishment, because she’d rather keep her mouth open, asking questions and getting to the heart of matters.”
“I bet she’d say the same of you,” Shelby teased.
“Me? No. I’ve found, like our friend Jax here, a good lawman learns as much or more from what doesn’t get said as what does.” The sheriff closed the file, peeled off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Pays to keep your mouth shut sometimes.”
“You speaking as a husband or lawman?” Jax asked.
The sheriff laughed. “Anyway, we haven’t got any credible tips or clues. You get anywhere trying to jog your memory, Shelby?”
“I just... I haven’t...” She felt embarrassed at her inability to make progress. “Can we talk about this stolen money thing right now?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Sheriff Andy held his hands out to his sides. “This is our first case of something like this targeting locals, to be honest.”
“We saw a lot of this kind of identity theft in Dallas.” Jax moved forward and put his hand on the closed file. With a look, he seemed to ask permission to check it out.
The sheriff hesitated, then gave a gesture of consent. “If you can offer any advice, then, I’d appreciate your consult on it.”
“The online purchases may be your key to tracking down the thief.” Jax flipped through the pages, back and forth, then back again. “Check where the orders came from, where they were sent...”
“We did a few, much as time and manpower allowed, but in the end, whoever is doing this is using the cards all over the area and using a different computer every day. A few at libraries, one at a hospital, using Wi-Fi or no-contract cell phones in coffee shops, hotels, fast-food places.”
Jax shook his head. “It may take these people months to get it all sorted out and to feel confident they won’t get hit with a problem over it again.”
“Worse than that.” Shelby put her head in her hands. “It makes me wonder who I can trust, even in Sunnyside.”
“What do you mean?” Jax tossed the file down.
“The card was lost in the café. Doesn’t that mean someone in Sunnyside must have been using it?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Jax moved around to the same side of the desk as Sheriff Andy. “You ever run a check on Mitch Warner?”
“Mitch? Jax, the man might have been a liar and a cheat, but he would never have stolen money from me.” Even Shelby couldn’t believe she’d used that as her best defense for the man she had been so infatuated with for far too long.
“I didn’t see any reason to check on Mitch.” Sheriff Andy scooted over. He clicked the mouse, and the computer screen flickered on. “You got a hunch?”
“Just see if he still has that red car registered in his name.”
* * *
Jax hated leaving the sheriff’s office without any solid information about Mitch Warner, but a call from the dispatcher about multiple small but urgent issues had taken precedence. So over Denby’s complaints about reduced staff and aching knee joints, Jax had shuffled Shelby into the minivan and returned her to Miss Delta’s house, where they’d left Harmon Lockhart watching Amanda.
&
nbsp; “That ol’ cowboy cook dad of yours does look like a natural as a grandpa,” Jax said as he and Shelby sat in the parked minivan outside the house. Mostly he wanted to get Shelby’s mind off her money woes. Also, he had grown to like that ol’ cowboy cook, and since Jax’s time in Sunnyside would soon come to a close, he wanted Shelby to understand that he was leaving her in good hands. “Kind of makes you want to rethink that third life rule of yours, the one about never trusting cowboys.”
“Oh, I’ve been rethinking it all afternoon long.” She pressed the button on her seat belt, and it retracted into place.
“And?” He undid his safety belt, as well.
Shelby put her hand to her forehead and winced. “I think I may have to revise it to read ‘Never, ever trust anyone.’”
He reached over and took her raised wrist in his hand. “Shelby, you can’t live like that.”
“Why not?” She jerked her arm free. “You do.”
“What?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Why else are you constantly trying to figure out people’s motivations and why they do what they do? So you can get ahead of what they may do next.”
“That’s good police work,” he protested.
“You’re not a policeman anymore, Jax,” she said softly, running her hand down his arm as if offering him comfort.
Jax had nothing to say to that. Or maybe he had so many things to say to it that no single thought rose to prominence. Shelby was right. On all counts. And worse, she had beaten him at his own game when she revealed it by uncovering the motivation behind the way he chose to live his life. He didn’t trust anyone.
Or he hadn’t trusted anyone. Until Shelby. That was why he couldn’t let her embrace this new attitude. He knew the lonely and bitter life it could lead to.
“Shelby Grace, I’ve just got to say—” The electronic notes of his ringtone cut him off. He glanced at the phone on the dash to see the Florida area code and number below the photo of the community clubhouse where his new office would be located. It was his new boss. He reached out and slid his thumb over the button to send the caller to voice mail. Eventually he was going to have to talk to the man, give him an update and a firm date of his arrival. But not just now.
