Читать книгу Sweet Devotion - Felicia Mason - Страница 9

After finishing their clucking, Amber and Sutton turned back to the storybook. Amber read a page of the barnyard tale. Sutton, lifting the book high so everyone could see the pictures, spotted him.

“Daddy!”

Amber looked up.

Paul knew the exact moment when Sutton’s greeting registered with Amber and she recognized him.

Her eyes shuttered and the light so evident a moment ago disappeared. She swallowed, and he watched as a shudder seemed to move through her. She held his gaze—almost defiantly, Paul decided—then deliberately turned her attention back to the children and the book.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he said to Sutton.

“I’m the helper today.”

“Is that a fact?”

Sutton smiled and nodded, her pigtails bobbing. Paul’s heart wrenched. It had been so long since he’d seen her animated—or talkative. And the woman who’d made it so was the very one who even now surreptitiously inched away from the girl. But was it really away from Sutton, or was it away from him? Paul was afraid he knew the answer.

Some people just didn’t like cops. He needed to apologize to her again, and today was his opportunity. After she passed out the cookies, he’d have a word with her. But Paul watched her withdrawal and wondered what she was hiding—and why he took her rebuff personally.

“Cookie Lady, are you going to finish the story?”

Amber jerked as if she’d been pinched. “I… I… Yes.”

She reached for the book Sutton held and tried to see beyond the police chief, who suddenly stood much closer than she liked. She stuck her head in the book, anxious to finish the tale so she could escape. But her skin grew clammy and she lost her grip on the book.

Sutton caught it and glanced at her. “We still have three more pages, Cookie Lady.”

Amber gave the girl what she hoped was a smile, then quickly read the remaining pages of the book. She closed it and hopped up while the children applauded. Rubbing her hands against her apron she asked, “Who’d like a cookie now?”

Every child’s hand shot straight up. Amber lifted the napkin from the basket and carefully handed the cookie basket to Sutton. “Do you know what to do?”

Sutton nodded. “Everybody gets one cookie. At the end, I get two.”

“That’s right,” Amber said. Taking the little girl’s hand in her own, Amber led her to the front row of children eagerly awaiting the treat. Then she excused herself.

“Amber?”

“Miss Montgomery?”

Amber ignored both Marnie and the police chief. She headed straight to the rest room, a place to which she knew he wouldn’t follow her.

She closed herself behind a stall and leaned her head against the door.

Breathe, she coached herself. Breathe.

Her pulse pounded. She felt as if she’d been dumped into the middle of a marathon.

She tried to convince herself that she was in no physical danger from him, that she’d simply overreacted. But she couldn’t get her heartbeat to slow down, or her fear to subside.

A knock on the stall door made her jump. “Who is it?”

“Amber, are you okay?” Marnie asked through the door. “What happened?”

“I’m…fine,” she said, a hitch in her voice.

“You don’t sound fine,” Marnie persisted. “And you looked like you were about to faint out there. Would you like some water?”

“No, thank you.”

For several minutes, the only sound in the rest room was Amber’s breathing. Amber’s feet hadn’t moved from the edge of the door where she stood.

“Amber, are you okay? Come out. Please.”

“I will.” But she made no move to unlatch the door.

Marnie knocked again. “Amber?”

Amber closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she’d been taught, tried to recall some of the deep-breathing exercises she’d learned.

“Amber, you’re scaring me.”

She forced herself to face her fear, and slid the lock free.

Marnie reached for her hands and clasped them in her own. “You’re freezing.”

Amber tried to tug her hands free. “I’m fine. Really. I just…” She shrugged, unable to finish the explanation, sure that Marnie with her perfect life and perfect job wouldn’t be able to understand her problem, let alone identify with it.

Marnie pulled Amber toward the sink. She ran cool water and made a compress from paper towels that she then pressed on Amber’s forehead. Then she ran warm water and plunged Amber’s hands under the steady stream. She rubbed Amber’s hands, getting the blood circulating again.

“Does that feel better?”

Amber nodded, and Marnie handed her a paper towel to dry her hands.

“You want to tell me what’s going on? You ran out of there like something was on fire.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Amber said automatically.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d eventually believe it.

For a moment, it seemed as if Marnie would let it go….

“I want you to know I care about you, Amber. You do good work here with the kids. I’d hate to lose you.”

“What makes you think I’m going somewhere?”

Marnie stilled her hands and stared at Amber. “I see it in your eyes. You look scared and ready to bolt.” Then their gazes connected in the mirror above the sink. “What can I do to help you?”

Amber shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I think I know what’s wrong.”

“I doubt it,” Amber said.

“Yes, Amber. You see, it takes one to know one.”

“Is the Cookie Lady coming back?”

Paul glanced at one of the aides who’d stepped in after both Amber and Marnie Shepherd disappeared.

“I’m sure she will,” he told the child.

“Hey, Chief Evans, can I take a ride in your police car?”

“Maybe next time, Max.” He bit back a smile at the boy’s excited grin.

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe not that soon.”

“Okay,” the boy said, confident that the promise extracted from the police chief would eventually be fulfilled.

Sutton finished passing out the cookies and brought the basket to the front of the Story Corner. She placed her two cookies on a paper napkin, then carefully folded the two cloth napkins, bringing as much care to the job as Amber would have, as she placed them inside the basket. She then put the basket on the table next to Amber’s rocker.

“I was the helper today, Daddy.”

Paul squatted down and gave her a hug. “And it looks to me like you did a terrific job.”

“I get two cookies.” She offered him one. “Would you like this one?”

Paul took a bite and munched on it, savoring every bite.

Wow. No wonder Caleb was so opposed to sharing. He glanced in the direction of the rest rooms.

His radio squawked. Paul pressed the speaker button at his shoulder unit. “Go ahead.”

“Chief, we’ve got a domestic in progress on Patterson in East Wayside.”

“On the way,” Paul answered.

“Daddy, what’s a domestic?”

“Domestic disturbance. Right, Chief?” Max piped up. “Somebody’s hitting somebody.”

Had it been any other kid, Paul would have been disturbed at the child’s knowledge. But Max Young came from a long line of law enforcement officers. “Right, Max.”

With a final glance toward the place Amber had skittered off to, Paul said farewell to the children and to the aide. He hugged Sutton and placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Jonathan, who didn’t care for public displays of affection, edged closer to Paul. “You’ll catch ’em, right?”

“Catch who?”

Jonathan motioned for Paul to get closer. He leaned down and watched the boy look to his right and left. “The domestic disturbance. You’ll get the bad man, won’t you?”

Paul blinked, sudden moisture in his eyes. He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him close for a hug. “I’ll get ’em, Jon.”

Marnie peeked out the bathroom door. “He’s gone.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Marnie said. “That’s why we’ve been in here ten minutes.”

“I need to go.”

Marnie stopped Amber with a hand on her arm. “Whatever’s going on, Amber, I’m here for you and so is the Lord. I’m keeping you in my prayers.”

Amber opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then slipped from the rest room. Her Cookie Lady persona cloaked around her again, she bid farewell to the children, thanked Sutton for her help and got a huge hug in return.

Startled, Amber didn’t quite know what to do. Then she wrapped her arms around the girl, fusing both of them in the much-needed embrace. “You take good care now, okay?”

The little girl nodded. “I love you, Cookie Lady,” Sutton whispered in her ear.

Astounded, Amber blinked. When was the last time she’d gotten unconditional love? Swallowing hard, she smiled at the girl, tugged on a pigtail and hightailed it out of Sunshine and Rainbows.

Who knew delivering cookies and reading a story could be just as dangerous to her state of mind as catering a Wayside Revelers’ event?

When she got home, two messages awaited her.

She pressed the button on her answering machine, then tucked away the cookie basket and put the aprons in a laundry bin.

“Hi, Amber.” Haley’s voice rang out. “I was just checking in. I’ll try to catch you later. Wanted to ask you something.”

“More like checking up on me,” Amber said, as the machine beeped and forwarded to the next message.

“It’s me again,” Haley said. “Can you join us for dinner tonight? Matt’s going to grill.”

Amber’s mouth watered at the thought. She was a whiz in the kitchen, but Matt Brandon-Dumaine worked wonders on a barbecue grill. She could hear his voice in the background. Then Haley laughed on the recorder.

“Matt says to tell you if you come over he might, emphasis on the word might, share one of his secret barbecue sauce recipes with you. Steaks and chicken go on the grill at six. Hope you can make it.”

Amber smiled. She had to give it to Haley—her cousin never stopped trying to get her to live a little, to do some socializing in Wayside.

But Amber had no interest in developing any close ties beyond those she needed to make and maintain her catering company. She’d learned the hard way that friends and even family—Haley excepted, of course—couldn’t be counted on to be there in a pinch.

Just one person had Amber’s best interests at heart: Amber.

She could tolerate having dinner with Haley and Matt or a cup of coffee with Kara Spencer, her longtime friend and sometime therapist. Beyond that, Amber wasn’t interested. She couldn’t afford to be.

On her arrival at the barbecue, her eyebrows rose as she noted the number of cars in front of Matt and Haley’s large house. And the moment she walked into the living room, Amber realized she’d been set up. Not only that, but it was a setup operating on two fronts.

“Hi, Amber!”

Trapped.

Too late to turn and head back out the door.

“Hello, Caleb,” Amber greeted. “Funny seeing you here.”

She cast her eyes toward her cousin, who merely smiled sweetly as she presented a tray of almost depleted hors d’oeuvres to Cliff Baines, Reverend Cliff Baines, pastor of Haley’s church.

A single guy and the preacher. Great, Amber thought. Just great. Maybe instead of eating dessert, they could just get married.

“Why don’t you replenish that,” Amber suggested, as Haley came around with the tray. “I’ll help you,” Amber said, lacing her voice with sweetness.

Haley wasn’t fooled, though, as she followed Amber into her kitchen.

“You wouldn’t hurt a pregnant lady,” Haley said, as the swinging door closed behind the two of them. Outside on the deck, under an awning that protected him from the rain starting to fall, Matt waved.

Amber waved at Matt, but glared at her cousin. “I’m deciding,” she said. She glanced at Haley’s stomach. “You’re not even showing yet.”

Haley lifted her hands to frame her face. “But Matt says I have a glow.”

“You’re glowing, all right. This was no spur-of-the-moment cookout, Haley. You know I hate setups.”

“What setup? It’s just a few friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Amber said. “Your pastor and his wife to hound me about not going to church, and that puppy-dog-eyed policeman.”

“Cliff and Nancy are friends. They aren’t going to hound you or anybody else. And I’d hardly call Caleb puppy-dog-eyed.”

Amber reached for and munched on a celery stick filled with cream cheese and pimento. “He reminds me of the Ebb character from Classic TV.”

Haley shook her head. “You do need to get out more. Satellite TV is addling your brain. And for the record, Caleb is also a friend. You’re family. What’s wrong with having friends and family over for dinner?”

Amber knew she wouldn’t win this round with Haley, but she had a trump card. “When you’re eight months pregnant and craving a lemon tart or a honey pecan roll, I’m going to be all sold out.”

“That’s mean,” Haley said, but she laughed.

Matt came in, greeted Amber with a “Hey, cuz” as he leaned in to buss her on the cheek, then carried a bowl of something to the dining room.

Haley moved to follow him. “Come on. Let’s get these out to everyone.”

The doorbell rang as they reentered the living room.

“I’ll get it,” Matt said.

A moment later he opened the door to Paul Evans and Marnie Shepherd.

Amber saw the pair and let out a shaky breath. Is that what Marnie had meant in the rest room at Sunshine and Rainbows? That Amber didn’t have to fear Paul because Marnie knew him to be an honorable man. Her man? They’d never really talked about personal stuff, so Amber had no way of knowing whether Marnie was seeing the police chief.

“Did you make these?” Caleb asked.

“Huh?”

Amber took her eyes off the pair at the door, turning her attention to Caleb, who was enjoying a corn fritter. “No. Haley did. Or maybe Matt.”

“They’re probably not as good as yours.”

Amber looked at Caleb as if seeing him for the first time. “Excuse me.” She fled to the kitchen.

Caleb looked from her retreating back to his boss at the front door.

“He followed me home, can I keep him?” Marnie said with a smile, indicating the police chief.

“Come on in,” Matt invited.

She knew it was a little crazy but Amber had to talk to someone right now. From the wall phone in the kitchen, she called Kara—and got an answering machine.

She slammed the phone down, then tried a little deep breathing. If she kept jumping at shadows like this she’d be a basket case, not to mention right back where she’d been three years ago when she first came home to Wayside.

Leaning against the sink, she considered her options. She could escape out the sliding glass doors and go home, or she could face her fears and walk out into that living room.

The choice, to some degree, was taken away from her when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Wayside, Oregon’s Police Chief Paul Evans.

Amber gripped the edge of the sink behind her. She assessed all of him. Tonight he didn’t wear the uniform that marked him as an officer of the law. Gone also were the gun, club and cuffs. He stood at the door in jeans, work boots and a chambray shirt. He looked more like a cowboy than a cop.

He’s just a man, Amber coached herself. You’re in a safe place. He’s just a man.

“Hello, Miss Montgomery. I waited at the day care the other day to have a word with you, but I got a call and had to leave.”

She didn’t say anything.

He took three steps forward. Amber forced herself not to flinch.

He must have noticed something because his eyes narrowed a bit, and the smile on his mouth fell a notch, not enough that any casual observer would even notice. But Amber wasn’t a casual observer. Fight-or-flight kicked in. Since he now blocked both exits, it would have to be fight.

“I don’t see how that concerns me.” She deliberately aimed for belligerent and defensive.

“I want to apologize,” he said, glancing at her arm. “About the other night. I didn’t mean to grab you or to leave a bruise.”

“The complaint letters are already mailed.” That wasn’t true, but he didn’t have to know it.

“I mistook you for one of the Revelers.”

“So I look seventy years old?”

A smile tilted the corners of his mouth and a dimple showed. “Hardly, Miss Montgomery.”

She told herself she wasn’t going to be charmed by that smile, that her guard would remain up. But she did allow her body to loosen. She’d been holding herself so erect that she’d need a masseuse to get the knots out.

“Please let me finish. I also want to thank you for something,” he said.

“Thank me? For what?”

“For bringing a smile again to my daughter’s face.”