Safe in the Lawman's Arms

by Patricia Johns

  “I want him to read it.”

  “You mean Uncle Mike?” Malory asked.

  Katy nodded.

  “Well, why don’t you go choose a book from my bag and then you can ask him.” Malory smiled as the little girl scampered off toward Malory’s bedroom. Some scuffles and thumps filtered through the wall as Malory picked up the towels and wiped up the puddles on the floor. The brush lay next to the tub, and she picked it up, sadness piercing her heart.

  “What did they do to you?” she whispered, then dropped the brush into a drawer.

  By the time she was finished making the bathroom presentable again, Katy stood in the doorway, a book clutched against her chest.

  “Got one!” she announced.

  “Okay, let’s go find Uncle Mike.”

  She’d have to fill Mike in on these developments. Maybe he could arrange some therapy for Katy. She’d need help healing from her trauma.

  Katy traipsed down the stairs dressed in a nightgown, damp at the shoulders from her wet hair. When Malory caught up in the living room, she faltered. Mike sat on the couch with his feet up, the TV on a sports channel. His T-shirt tugged at his muscled chest and arms, and from the angle where Malory stood, she could see the stubble on his chin.

  “Go ahead,” Malory said quietly.

  Mike looked up when he heard Malory’s voice, and Katy moved forward, her book held over her chest like a shield.

  “Uncle Mike?” she whispered.

  “Yes, Katy?” He flicked off the TV and dropped the remote. Katy crept closer until she stood right in front of him.

  “Uncle Mike?” she repeated breathlessly, then thrust the book out in front of her, smacking him solidly in the kneecaps.

  “Ouch.” He chuckled. “Do you want me to read that to you?”

  She nodded but didn’t make a move.

  “Do you want to come sit next to me?” he asked.

  Katy considered for a moment, then lifted her arms toward him. “Up,” she said.

  Mike glanced up at Malory uncertainly, then gently lifted the small girl up onto his lap. She pulled her knees up and settled against him, her head tipped toward his chest. Mike’s expression softened, and Malory thought she saw his eyes mist, but she couldn’t be sure, because he blinked quickly, cleared his throat and opened the book.

  “Okay,” he said. “This book is called Lippity Loppity the Bunny.”

  “Who’s that?” Katy asked, pointing at the picture.

  “Um...” Mike looked closer. “My guess is Lippity Loppity.”

  “Okay.” She put her head back against his chest and heaved a deep sigh.

  “‘One day, Lippity Loppity the little bunny hopped away from his cozy burrow toward the big woods,’” Mike read.

  “Is Lippity Loppity a girl bunny?” Katy asked.

  “I think he’s a boy.”

  “I don’t like that. Lippity Loppity is a girl.”

  “Oh.” Mike glanced up at Malory again, humor glimmering in his eyes. “Okay. I must have gotten it wrong. Let’s keep reading.” He turned the page. “‘Lippity Loppity’s mother told him’—I mean, her—‘that the woods were no place for small bunnies to go alone, but Lippity Loppity didn’t listen.’”

  “Where is the mommy?” Katy asked.

  “I don’t see her in the picture,” Mike said.

  “What’s she like?”

  Mike glanced toward Malory with alarm, and she understood his discomfort. This was difficult territory considering that Katy’s mother was in prison, but she needed to believe in warmth and love, even if her life experience hadn’t included the kind of stability she craved. Malory shrugged, giving him a sympathetic smile. This one was his call.

  “Well, I think she would be warm and snuggly,” Mike said.

  “Oh.” Katy considered this.

  “‘Inside the woods—’” Mike began.

  “Does Lippity Loppity have a daddy?” Malory asked.

  Mike flipped forward in the story, scanning each page. When he reached the end, he flipped back to the page they were on and shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to say.”

  “But do you know?” she asked earnestly. “Does she have a daddy?”

  “Everyone has a daddy somewhere,” Mike said quietly. His gaze flickered toward Malory again, and she felt a soft flutter within. She put a hand on her belly. Mike was right. Everyone did have a daddy, even if that daddy didn’t want her. How did you explain that to a child? Sadness welled up inside Malory. She knew the fatherless feeling all too well, and unfortunately, so would her baby.

  “Are you my daddy, Uncle Mike?” Katy asked, big blue eyes fixed on Mike’s rugged face.

  “I, um—” Mike cleared his throat. “No, Katy, I’m not your daddy.”

  “Oh.” Katy’s whole frame sank down in disappointment, and while Mike read the rest of the story, her glum expression didn’t change.

  “‘And Lippity Loppity never went near the woods again,’” Mike read. “‘The end.’”

  Katy didn’t speak, nor did she lift her head.

  “Is she sleeping?” Mike whispered.

  “No.” Malory slid off her seat and moved next to Mike on the couch. Katy looked up at Malory dismally.

  “What’s the matter, sweetie?” Malory asked quietly.

  Katy didn’t answer and likely couldn’t put her thoughts into words. She was too young to grapple with the harshness of her reality. Malory held out her arms.

  “Hug?” she asked.

  Katy nodded and wriggled from Mike’s lap onto Malory’s. Mike looked sad, and Malory wished she could hold them both and soothe away this pain.

  “You know what?” Malory said quietly. “Families are all different, but what matters most is the love. And your uncle Mike loves you.”

  Mike didn’t speak, but she could see she’d said the right thing. He reached out a tentative hand and awkwardly patted Katy’s back.

  “Ready for bed?” he asked gruffly.

  Malory scooted to the edge of the couch but realized belatedly that she wasn’t going to be able to stand up.

  “I need a push,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Give me a little shove,” she said with a groan, “or I’m not going to get up.”

  Mike put a broad, warm palm against her back and for a moment she wished she could lean into that warmth and stay there. It had been a long time since she’d felt cared for, but she knew better than to get used to this. This was a professional arrangement, not a personal one, no matter how intimate the living arrangement happened to be.

  Then Mike gave her the needed momentum, and she stood up, Katy cradled in her arms. Mike rose and followed her up the stairs. She could feel the calm solidity of him behind her as they moved up the staircase together, and he paused at Katy’s bedroom door as Malory carried the girl inside.

  It didn’t take long for Katy to snuggle under the blanket, and Malory kissed her forehead and turned off the light. The gap in the closed bedroom curtains let in a ray of summer-evening sunlight. As Malory came out into the hallway, she found Mike looking down at her tenderly.

  “You did well,” Malory said. “Those questions are never easy.”

  “Yeah?” Mike didn’t move. His warm, dark eyes passed slowly over her face, and the musky scent of his cologne seemed to tug her gently closer. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, biceps pressing against his shirtsleeves.

  “Really well,” she repeated, finding her voice a little breathless. “I think she’s settling in nicely.”

  “That’s thanks to you.”

  “And you. You were her first choice for a story.”

  He dropped his gaze. “I suppose. She’s sweet.”

  “I know she gave you a bit of a rough time when she first arrived, but that little girl loves you.”

  “I know she’s better off somewhere else, but—”

  “You keep saying that,” she said.

  “It’s true.”

  Ma
lory didn’t agree. It wasn’t her place to convince her employer otherwise, though. If he didn’t want to be a father, what should it matter to her? But it certainly mattered to one little girl.

  “Have you even thought about what it would be like to keep her?” she asked.

  Mike smiled sadly. “Of course.”

  “And?” she prodded.

  “She’s adorable, and the last few days have filled this house with life.” He shrugged. “But she needs to be as far from the Cruises as possible. This isn’t about me.”

  “Don’t you think that your family would look for her?” she asked. “I mean, would you just walk away once she was placed with someone else?”

  He sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Emotionally, I’d have to, but I’d still keep an eye on her...make sure she stayed hidden.”

  “So why not keep an eye on her here?” Malory asked.

  “Because I’m the first place anyone will look.”

  She nodded. It was the same thing he’d been saying all along. He’d made his decision before she’d ever arrived, and she wasn’t about to change his mind. Except that she did feel a difference in him. He’d softened—and he’d taken her advice about opening up to Katy.

  His dark eyes moved back up to meet hers, and for the first time his guard was dropped. This wasn’t the sheriff looking down at her, this was the man—strong, solid, hesitant. She had to stop herself from stepping closer still. The moment seemed to slow down as their eyes met, and she knew that she needed to be cautious.

  “I should, um—” She felt heat rise in her cheeks. What she wanted right now was to slip into those strong arms and rest her cheek against his chest. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay because she could help him and he wouldn’t be facing this alone. But that wasn’t true, and this was dangerous territory.

  He looked ready to close the distance between them. Then he smiled ruefully. “Me, too. I have to work a night shift. So I’d better get going.” He straightened, turned, then stopped and looked back at her. “I know you haven’t been here long,” he said, “but I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

  A smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “All part of the job.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, his gaze meeting hers once more. “And you’re good at it.”

  Then he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the hallway. She took a deep, steadying breath.

  Forget it, Mal, she told herself firmly. You aren’t going to change him.

  Chapter Five

  Being in uniform had a way of changing a man. Mike liked jeans and a T-shirt when he was kicking around home, but on the street, the pressed and starched uniform gave a little extra authority. Everyone knew that Mike Cruise was in law enforcement, but there were times that he felt like a fraud.

  He knew exactly where he came from, and while his adult years had been spent serving and protecting, there was a small part of himself that would always be “that Cruise kid,” poised to mess it all up.

  A few days had passed since he’d taken Malory and Katy out for ice cream, and they’d settled into a comfortable routine. Too comfortable, perhaps—he wasn’t supposed to be getting used to this.

  Tonight, as he slid into his cruiser and turned the key, he heaved a sigh of relief. There was nowhere that he felt more himself than behind the wheel.

  Tuck raised a greasy bag in one hand, then buckled his seat belt. “I got those fries you like.”

  “Yeah?” Mike could already smell them, and it made his stomach rumble. “So how’re things at home?”

  They were partners and they always talked about their personal lives. With eight solid hours in a cruiser together, you either became like brothers or hated the sight of each other.

  “Shana’s been bugging me to take some time off,” Tuck replied, reaching forward to test the radio channel and turn the volume up. “She wants to go to Disneyland.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Mike replied. “What’s the problem?”

  “Do you know how much that would cost with four kids?” Tuck stroked his mustache in a movement that had become habit over the years. “We’re talking hotels, restaurants, souvenirs, flights—”

  “The cost of parenthood, I guess.” Mike pulled out of the station parking lot and eased down Main Street toward the bar at the far side of town. A little policing was always necessary outside the Honky Tonk after the boys had some time to get a few drinks into them.

  “Oh, we’ll do a vacation,” Tuck replied. “But we’ll have to save for it first.”

  Mike felt a mild pang of jealousy. His wife was a dark-haired little drill sergeant with four of the best-behaved kids in town. They said “Yes, ma’am” and “No, sir.” They shook hands with adults. Mike was always amazed at those kids—Tuck and Shana had done right in that department.

  “So how is Katy?” Tuck asked, the bag opening with a crinkle.

  “She wanted me to read to her the other night,” Mike said. He’d been keeping quiet about that story time for the past few days, but he was ready to talk about it now.

  “That’s cute.”

  “Yeah.” Mike hadn’t expected to feel that rush of protectiveness when he held the little girl, but he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe from everything out there—all the hard stuff that he knew was coming up.

  “So what story did you read?”

  “A Lippity Loppity something.”

  “Lippity Loppity Bunny. That’s a good one. My kids loved it at her age.”

  Mike chuckled and reached his hand into the bag for some fries. “She asked some hard questions.”

  “They do that, too. Like what?”

  “Who her father was.” Mike popped the fries into his mouth, then signaled for a turn down a side street.

  “Ouch. What’d you say?” Tuck asked.

  Mike swallowed before answering. “I don’t know. Just that it wasn’t me, and Malory saved the day with some nice thoughts about families and love.”

  “She seems like a keeper,” Tuck said absently.

  “Which one?” Mike joked.

  “Why not both?” Tuck retorted. “You could use a female touch around your place.”

  Mike laughed and shook his head. “Malory’s pregnant, you know.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it.” Mike slowed as they eased down the residential street. These were old houses that had been around since Mike was a boy. He knew some of the older people who lived here, but times had changed and a lot of the places had been sold to younger families.

  “How far along is she?” Tuck asked.

  “I didn’t ask.” Mike shot his partner a questioning look. “Are you supposed to ask that?”

  “Yeah, if you’re in any way curious about when she’s going to have the baby,” came the retort.

  “Well, Katy isn’t going to be around that long anyway,” Mike replied, but the words felt wooden in his mouth. He was getting attached, despite his best intentions to the contrary.

  “So I guess you’ll be taking care of a toddler and a pregnant woman.” Tuck chuckled. “Crash course in family life.”

  “Oh no. She’s pretty adamant that she doesn’t need anything from me. She says she’s doing this one on her own.”

  “Yeah, well, she’ll still need things,” Tuck replied. “She’ll be hungry all the time. Her feet are going to kill her. Her back will get sore. She’ll have trouble picking things up—”

  “Already there,” Mike chuckled. “With picking things up, I mean. She crouched down to talk to Katy and had trouble standing. That’s when I clued in.” His mind went back to the feeling of her in his arms—her soft scent so close, the gentle swell of her belly pressing against his stomach. He’d realized two things in that moment: that she was pregnant, and just how attractive he found her. He’d been angry at first—she’d hidden it from him—but even in the moment he knew he didn’t have that right. He pushed
the memory back.

  “I love it when Shana’s pregnant,” Tuck said. “Makes me want to have another one.”

  Mike put his attention into making another turn and slowing as they passed a couple of teenagers talking under a streetlight.

  “She’s not going to want my help,” Mike said.

  Tuck didn’t answer, but Mike caught his partner’s knowing smile, only partially hidden by his mustache. Tuck always acted as if he had some bit of inside information—and maybe he did, having been married for the better part of a decade.

  The problem was, Mike was definitely attracted to Malory. That evening, standing in the hallway and having to physically restrain himself from leaning down and kissing those lips... But attraction was only that—a physical reaction. And he knew it. He also knew better than to mess with the emotions of a pregnant woman. She needed security, not games.

  “She’s got a plan of her own,” Mike went on. “And she needs the health insurance.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” Tuck replied.

  Mike’s cell phone rang, and he pulled over to a stop under another streetlight, then took out his phone.

  “Corporal Mike Cruise,” he answered.

  “Hi, Mike, I’ve got a call to forward you from a Nate Cruise. You know him?”

  Mike froze. “Yeah, I know him. Patch it through.”

  Tuck shot him an inquiring glance, but Mike stared straight ahead, one fist clenched over the steering wheel. A moment later, there was a soft click.

  “Hello?” Mike said curtly.

  “That you, Mikey?”

  “It’s Mike now, Dad,” he snapped. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Can’t a father just call to say hi?”

  “You doing that once every ten years now?” Mike shot back.

  Silence on the other end, and for a moment Mike was tempted to hang up. Something stopped him, though—that boyish longing for a “regular dad.” He hadn’t heard from his father since his twenty-fifth birthday, and that call had ended up being a request for money. He’d hung up the phone and vowed to never speak to the man again, but that vow hadn’t been entirely necessary, since his father hadn’t attempted to contact him again. Until tonight.

  Mike sighed. “So how are you doing?”