“Not bad. Not bad. Better than before, that’s for sure. I wanted to—” There was a pause “I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“Just fine. I’m a sheriff still.” He meant it as a warning. He didn’t want his father to say anything incriminating that would force him to take action. At the very least, he could be spared arresting his own father.
“Yeah, I know.” His father cleared his throat. “You did good.”
“Where are you?” Mike asked.
“Don’t worry about that,” his father replied. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Did you tick off someone nasty?” Mike asked with a sigh. “Should I be watching my back?”
“No, not like that. Just—I wasn’t much of a father to you, and I always felt bad about that.”
Mike’s brows raised in mild surprise. Was he in Alcoholics Anonymous or something, making amends for his life of addiction?
“That’s an understatement,” he replied coolly.
“Well, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, okay.” Mike cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.” Another pause. “It’s good to hear your voice, son. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Take care.” Mike punched the hang-up button and stared down at the phone with a blank expression, his emotions a jumble. He dropped his phone onto his lap and eased the car back out into the street.
“Was that—?” Tuck asked.
“My dad.”
“What did he want?” he pressed.
“Nothing.” Mike gripped the steering wheel in one iron fist, the muscles in his forearm rippling.
“What do you mean, nothing?” Tuck demanded.
“Nothing.” Mike leveled his partner an annoyed look. “He was calling to...to say hi, I guess. Didn’t ask for a penny.”
“Maybe he’s changed.”
“I doubt it,” Mike retorted. “Cruises are known for two things—crime and stubbornness. He’s probably just working his way up to it, making up an elaborate lie so I’ll feel sorry for him and cough up some cash.”
Tuck heaved out a sigh and nodded. “Hate to agree, but you’ve got a point.”
Tuck’s support made him feel slightly better, and he stuck his hand back into the greasy bag.
“I don’t like the feeling of this,” Mike admitted. “Let’s patrol my street tonight, too. It’ll make me feel better.”
He didn’t know what was nagging at the back of his brain, but he’d learned to listen to his instinct with this job. His father never made contact for nothing.
Coming up at the end of the road was the local bar, the Honky Tonk. Music poured out into the street, and a couple of young men staggered into the parking lot, weaving and tripping over their own cowboy boots. In search of their truck, no doubt, to drive it drunk straight into a semi. Mike flicked on the lights, gave the siren a little whoop and turned into the parking lot.
Work was just beginning.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Malory yawned and sank into a kitchen chair while the coffeemaker gurgled away from the counter. One of the downsides of being an early riser was getting up before the coffee had even started. Cool, dew-drenched air wafted in from the open kitchen window, and she sucked in a deep breath, savoring the quiet.
The aroma of percolating coffee mingled with the sweet scent of lilacs from the bushes lining the house outside. She enjoyed these times of silence when she was left alone with her thoughts.
Planning her life had seemed simple enough a few months ago. She and Steve had been going strong—she hadn’t known about the infidelity yet—and planning for the future was as simple as tucking some money into her savings account. Now everything had changed.
Working here with Mike and Katy would be easier if it weren’t for their chemistry. They were comfortable together—worked well together, even. There was attraction, yes, but it was more than that. She felt as if he needed her, even though he’d never admit it. He needed more than a nanny. He needed a woman who could show him that the world was kinder than he thought—at least, pockets of it were. He needed someone he could trust, someone he could lean on. She could see his vulnerability plainly, and that was the kind of challenge that was hard to back away from.
Or was she just falling into the same traps her mother had always fallen into, and she’d find herself heartbroken, wondering why she’d let herself love a guy against her better judgment? That was probably more realistic.
The front door opened, and she paused as footsteps moved through the living room and toward the kitchen. She turned just as Mike appeared in the doorway.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “The coffee is ready. Want a cup?”
“Thanks, but I can get it. Sit down.”
Malory took her mug to the table, where she added milk and sugar, her eyes following the big sheriff as he tossed his hat onto the counter and grabbed a mug. He scrubbed a hand through his short-cropped hair and stifled a yawn.
“Long night.” He poured his coffee, then turned back toward the table. “Are you always up this early?”
“Generally.” She stirred in the milk and sugar until her coffee was taupe.
“That’s probably a good habit.” He slid into a chair next to her and took a sip. “I like this time of the day. Quiet.”
“Hmm.” She took a slow sip.
“I had a weird night.”
“Oh?” She glanced up at him. “What happened?”
“Do you remember me telling you about my dad?”
“He was an alcoholic, right?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. The last time I heard from him was about ten years ago. He called on my birthday to ask me for money to help him pay off a gambling debt.”
She winced. “Did you give it to him?”
“No. I have to be careful so that I don’t even give the impression of being involved in something illegal. And with my dad, there was really no way of knowing if he was telling me the truth.”
“That’s hard.”
“He called me last night.”
“What did he want?” She put her cup down on the table and turned her attention to him. His face was lined with exhaustion.
“To say hi.” She caught the guilt in his expression.
“And you feel bad because you still think he’s up to something,” she concluded.
“Exactly. I suppose I’ll know soon enough.” He was silent for a moment. Then he turned toward her, his expression hardening back into the sheriff once more. “I’m telling you this because I want you to be aware. That’s all. I don’t mean to scare you.”
She froze. “Aware of what, exactly?”
“Someone coming to the door or following you. I’m keeping an eye on you two, so you don’t need to worry too much. I took a few passes by the house last night to make sure that everything was quiet.”
It did make her feel more secure to think of Mike looking out for her. He was big, broad and immovable, and she had a feeling that if anyone tried to get through him, it would be like slamming up against a boulder. But why was he so worried if his father’s biggest vice was hitting up family members for money?
“Your father has some enemies?” she guessed.
“In that world, Malory, everyone has enemies.” He took a sip of coffee, and his gaze moved toward the window. “It’s a dark place. You don’t realize how dark until you manage to crawl out.”
“You mean poverty?” she asked.
“Poverty?” He shook his head. “There’s no shame in being poor. No, I mean a life of crime and addiction. That’s completely different.”
Malory looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “And I imagine when he called last night, it brought you right back there.”
“Hmm?” His dark eyes met hers, his expression unreadable. “No, I’m a grown man now, and no one gets to turn back that clock.”
“Not even your father?” she asked.
Mike chuckled,
the sound low and deep. “Do I look like I ever feel small and afraid?”
Malory regarded the large-shouldered man sitting next to her. His elbows rested on the table, his biceps pressing against his shirtsleeves, the mug dwarfed in his hands. His neck was thick and his chest was well muscled—nothing was small about this man.
“I’d say that appearances can be deceiving,” she said at last.
“Maybe so,” he agreed. “But not this time around. Just keep an eye out, and if you feel like something is off, give me a call on my cell.”
She nodded. “I will.”
“Good.” He relaxed and leaned back in his chair. “How is Katy?”
“She’s doing pretty well, considering.” She paused. “Did you know that she’s afraid of hairbrushes?”
“I thought she was scared of me.”
“No, she’s been totally panicking when I try to brush her hair. There is something about a brush.” She swallowed a lump that rose in her throat. “Is it possible that she was physically abused?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was low. “The poor kid. My cousin was in rough shape. I have no idea who she had coming through her home or if she could have been capable of it herself.” He winced. “You know, if things were different, I’d keep Katy myself. No one would ever lay a finger on her again.”
Malory felt a rush of hope. “It is a possibility, you know.”
“I’ve got to trust my instinct on this, Malory.” He sucked in a deep breath. “We have a meeting with the adoption agency tomorrow afternoon. It’s just a preliminary visit for them to see Katy and gather some information.”
Malory nodded, stunned, her hope instantly deflating once more. He gave her an apologetic smile.
“Okay,” she said, forcing professionalism into her tone. “What should we tell Katy about it?”
His gaze met hers, and she found uncertainty in his eyes. “I was hoping you’d have an idea about that.”
She thought for a moment, considering possible scenarios. What mattered here was how Katy pulled through.
“Maybe since it’s a preliminary visit, we shouldn’t say anything. Things might happen quickly, but they also might not. I’d hate for her to feel like she wasn’t wanted if the process turned out to be slow.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point.” He nodded. “Thanks.”
“What time is the visit?”
“They’ll be here at one.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll make sure we’re all presentable by then.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but instead, he pressed his lips together, then turned and left the room. She’d known that this was coming, but it still left her with an empty feeling in her gut. This was Mike’s choice to make, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d change his mind before it was too late.
Chapter Six
The next afternoon, the adoption-agency representative arrived in a small blue sedan at exactly one o’clock. She was a middle-aged woman with a short white hairdo and a maternal smile, but her sharp blue eyes didn’t seem to miss anything. She stepped inside and her gaze swept around the room. She reminded him of a grade-school teacher he’d had—the kind of woman who could make an A minus feel like a failure for the kid who could do better and a C feel like his biggest success. He’d been the kid with the C.
“Good morning, Mr. Cruise.” Her voice was clipped and cheerful. “I’m Elizabeth Nelson with the Longman Adoption Agency. I’m here for our preliminary meeting. Let’s get right down to it, shall we?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled and stepped back. “Please come in.”
She took a full turn, peering around the place over her half-glasses. “Where is the little one?”
“She’s with her nanny outside. I thought it might give us a chance to talk alone.”
“So you’ve hired some additional help with child care?” she asked.
“I work full-time for the sheriff’s department, so I needed someone around the clock to help with her.” He didn’t care to admit that even when he had taken a few days off, he’d been completely outgunned by the girl. He was used to being viewed as competent and in control, but a child changed all the rules. She had little to no respect for the badge.
Ms. Nelson nodded. “Have you told the child about the adoption?”
“No, ma’am.”
He gestured her to sit on the couch, and she complied, fishing a legal pad out of her oversize purse.
“That might be for the best,” she said. “I believe I mentioned the challenge of placing older children when we spoke. Infants are easy, but the placement rate goes down once the child passes the first year.”
He nodded, grateful that he had Malory’s advice in this. He’d been more inclined to try to explain it to Katy, and he’d likely have only made things worse. What did he know about raising a little girl?
“Now, Mr. Cruise,” Ms. Nelson said, “I understand that you are Katherine’s legal guardian now.”
“Yes, I am.” He nodded. “Her mother is in prison for another nineteen years. She gave up all legal rights to her daughter. I think it’s best to give her a home as far away from her mother’s family as possible.”
“But, if you’ll forgive me, you do seem like an excellent solution for the child. You’re well respected in your community and financially able to provide—”
“And her mother’s first cousin.” He shook his head. “I was raised in this family, and I know what I’m talking about. She’s better off with a fresh start.”
“Understood.” She nodded and made a note on her pad of paper.
“Are you willing to remain Katherine’s guardian if an immediate placement isn’t possible?”
Mike was silent for moment, considering his options. “Yes,” he said finally. “I don’t want her in the system.”
She made another note on her pad of paper. “For how long?”
“You mean, how long am I willing to stand in?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
“As long as I have to.” He wasn’t exactly going to throw the child out by a certain deadline.
She nodded again, made another couple of notes, then looked up with a prim smile. “Can I meet her?”
“You bet.”
He stood up, suddenly realizing that adoption was a very permanent solution. The idea of finding a new home for Katy had seemed so logical and necessary at first. Giving her up wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d imagined, but he pushed his discomfort down. Logic had to prevail. Katy deserved more. And there was always the chance that there wouldn’t be a family looking for a child her age at this time.
Was that hope he felt welling up at that prospect?
Ambling toward the kitchen and the back door, he said over his shoulder, “Let me just go call them in. They’re having a picnic in the backyard.”
* * *
MALORY AND KATY sat on a red checkered picnic blanket—something Malory had found in the top of the closet in her bedroom—with a plate of finger sandwiches and two juice boxes between them. A playful wind whispered through the trees that stretched overhead, but her mind wasn’t on the peaceful morning. She could only hope she’d hidden her conflicted emotions from the little girl. Behind her, the back door opened. Just as Malory craned her head to see their guest, Katy shoved a tuna-salad finger sandwich toward her, planting the sticky mass onto her cheek. Malory laughed and turned back to Katy.
“You missed my mouth.” She chuckled, reaching for a napkin.
“Missed your mouth.” Katy giggled, grabbing another sandwich. “Again!”
“No, no, no.” Malory managed to avoid another face full of tuna and took a bite of sandwich instead. “Yum. Look, Uncle Mike needs us.”
Mike’s broad frame filled up the doorway. He waved, then stepped outside and strolled across the lawn toward them.
“Ready for us?” Malory asked. She attempted to get up, but her white cotton dress caught under her sandal. Mike held out a hand. She hesitated f
or a moment, then slipped her fingers into his strong grip, tugging her dress free and rising to her feet.
“Having fun out here?” he asked, his expression tender.
She nodded. “Katy sure is enjoying herself. Hungry?”
On cue, Katy held up a sandwich toward Mike, compacted and flattened between her eager fingers.
“Uh—” Mike regarded the unappetizing little mass of tuna and bread. “I’m okay, thanks.”
“Eat it,” Katy urged. “It’s for you. Eat it!”
“Hmm.” Mike took the sandwich. “How about I have it later?”
“No, now.”
He cast a helpless look toward Malory, who laughed, wiping her cheek once more with the napkin. “Just try and get out of that one.”
Mike hesitated, then popped the mangled sandwich into his mouth, making a grimace as it went in. He chewed thoughtfully. “Not bad.”
“Another one!” Katy squealed, diving for the last finger sandwich on the plate, and Malory caught her before she reached her goal.
“That’s enough, sweetie.” She laughed. “It’s time to go say hello to someone.”
“Who?” Katy asked, looking up, suddenly suspicious.
“A lady,” Mike said. “She just wants to say hi. Can you say hi to a lady?”
Malory had never met a child so wise to grown-up ploys, but this child had seen a lot in her young years and seemed to sense incoming instability in her world. She clutched Malory’s hand a little more tightly, her rosebud lips pressing down into a thin line.
Mike’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he walked back toward the house. She followed, her little charge in tow.
When they entered the living room, their guest stood. She smiled as she saw Katy.
“You must be Katy,” she said.
Katy didn’t answer.
“I’ve heard lots of good things about you,” the woman went on. “I just wanted to meet you for myself. How old are you?”
Katy held up three fingers.
“Oh, my. That’s very old.” She nodded solemnly. “When is her birthday?” She looked up at Mike inquiringly.
“February 12,” he said.
“She looks like a healthy child,” the woman said with a smile toward Malory. “And well cared for.”
Safe in the Lawman's Arms Page 6
