Читать книгу Hometown Honey - Kara Lennox, Kara Lennox - Страница 11

Luke watched from a distance, lurking in the shadows at the marina behind a houseboat. He’d heard a rumor that Cindy and Adam were living here on her parents’ old boat, but he had to see for himself.

Sure enough, the canvas cover had been removed from the old cuddy, which was called the Cindy-Lou—Cindy’s childhood nickname. It looked as if someone had cleaned the worst of the grime off the boat. Carlo Bruno, the marina manager, had told Luke the boat had been docked here for years, with only the lightest routine maintenance to keep it from sinking.

He saw no other signs of life. He decided it was his official duty to check on Cindy again and to keep checking on her until he was sure she was okay. She’d been in a fragile state when he’d seen her a few days ago.

He remembered a time when his own mother had been in a similar fix. He’d been about four at the time, and his mom had been evicted from her grungy apartment in Tyler. They’d been forced to live in the car for a while. He remembered a highway-patrol officer shining a flashlight into the car, where they’d been parked in a parking lot trying to sleep, bundled up in blankets. And this upstanding law-enforcement officer, sworn to serve and protect, had told them without an ounce of concern that they would have to move on, that it was illegal to sleep there.

He wished someone had tried to help his mother back then, when she hadn’t yet been beyond help.

At any rate, he wasn’t going to be like that state trooper.

He stepped on board and knocked on the hatch. It suddenly occurred to him he’d spent a lot of his life knocking on doors, waiting for Cindy. Even when she’d been in love with him, she’d always kept him waiting.

Eventually the hatch opened. He was gratified to see that Cindy looked much better than she had a few days ago. No puffy eyes. Her hair was sparkling clean and pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore jeans and a pale pink T-shirt, the V-neck showing just a hint of cleavage. She’d put on a little weight, he noticed. And it was in all the right places.

“What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

“I heard you and Adam were living here. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You can tell that to all the town gossips. Man, they must be having a field day with this.”

“Cindy, if you think your friends and neighbors are getting enjoyment out of your bad luck, you’re wrong. Everyone who knows you is worried. Can I come in?”

With a careless shrug, she retreated down the short staircase and he followed. The boat wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. She’d obviously been cleaning, because the whole place smelled like oranges.

“You want some coffee?” she offered grudgingly. “It’s instant, not like what I serve at the café, but the caffeine still works.”

“Sure, I’ll have some. Where’s Adam?”

“Still asleep. We’ve been busy the last couple of days trying to get settled in here.”

She moved into the tiny galley, which was only a couple of steps away. In fact, nothing was more than two steps away. It was a cute and cozy boat, he’d give it that. The carpeting and upholstery all looked new, the paint surprisingly fresh. Everything was tidy and efficient—except for the stack of boxes shoved to one side of the living room.

Moments later, Cindy handed him a steaming cup of black coffee.

“What, no biscuit with honey?”

“You know, a few days ago I was complaining about all the biscuits I had to bake. Now I’d give anything to be back in that stifling kitchen with flour all over my hands.”

“Maybe you can get it back.”

“How? I don’t even know where to start.”

“To start, you need to talk with Sonya and Brenna.”

“You mean they’re still here?”

“They’re trying to pick up as much information as they can about Marvin, but they don’t have much without you.”

“I’m not sure what the point is.” She sank onto one of the miniature built-in sofas opposite him and sipped on her own coffee. “Everything I know about him is a lie, apparently.”

“But maybe not. Con men often use bits and pieces of the truth to make themselves sound more authentic. You might know more than you think. For instance, his car. You spent a lot of time in it. Do you recall the license plate or any distinguishing features like dents or scratches? We might be able to trace him that way.”

Cindy’s brow furrowed. “It all seems like a blur. But I’ll try to remember.”

“Talk to the ladies.”

“Oh, all right.”

He hesitated to press her further, but there were questions he had to ask. “Cindy, what are you going to do? You can’t live here.”

“Why not? I have a kitchen.” She pointed to the one-burner stove, a single cabinet and about one square foot of counter space. “I have a bathroom.” She indicated a closed door marked Head, which probably housed only a marine toilet and sink—no bathing facilities.

“Where do you sleep?”

“There’s a compartment in the bow. You can see for yourself.”

“I don’t want to wake Adam if he’s—”

“It’s really time he got up.”

Luke put down his coffee and worked his way to the front of the boat. He had to stoop slightly—he couldn’t even stand upright, the ceiling was so low. He pushed open a couple of louvered doors and found himself in the “bedroom”—a tiny triangular area with sheets and blankets spread out over oddly shaped cushions. Adam was already awake, sitting up in bed, looking out the porthole. Most babies he knew of started screaming the instant they awoke. But from what he’d seen of Adam, he was an easygoing kid.

“Hey, there, sport,” he said softly. Adam turned and studied Luke, appearing neither scared nor pleased to see him. More curious. “I bet you’re ready for some breakfast.”

“Do you mind bringing him out?” Cindy asked.

“If he’ll let me.” But when Luke reached for Adam, the baby held his arms out, perfectly accepting. Not that Luke was a complete stranger. But the baby had seen him up close maybe half a dozen times in his young life. Luke wrapped his arms securely around Adam’s warm body, dressed snugly in Carter’s pajamas. Adam babbled happily and snuggled against Luke.

Luke felt an odd sensation holding that baby. If things had gone the way he’d once hoped, Cindy’s child would also be his child. They’d have had a houseful by now.

“There’s my little man,” Cindy said with a dopey, maternal smile, holding out her arms. “Bet you need a diaper change.” She glanced at Luke as she took the baby. “Don’t worry, I’ll open some portholes first.”

He laughed. “I’m not worried. You want me to get you a diaper?”

She pointed to a box of disposables and a container of baby wipes, and she proceeded to efficiently change Adam’s diaper.

“Where do you bathe?” Luke blurted out. Though it sounded as if he was being nosy, this really was his business, he told himself.

“The marina has a very nice bathroom with showers and everything.”

“So Adam’s a shower man.”

“He’s learning. We shower together.”

Luke didn’t want to dwell on the image that popped into his mind.

“Cindy…you can’t stay here.”

“Why not? We’re managing just fine. Anyway, it’s only temporary, just until I figure out what to do.”

“Does this place have any heat?”

“No. But the weather’s very mild right now.”

“It’s October. You know the weather can change in a heartbeat.”

“I’ll deal with that problem when I come to it.”

They were saved from further argument by another knock on the hatch. For a moment, Cindy had a look on her face that reminded Luke of a scared rabbit.

“You want me to get that?”

“Would you, please?” She was just snapping up Adam’s pajamas. “And if it’s those women, tell them I’ll talk to them when I’m ready, not before,” she added crossly.

Luke climbed the steps and unfastened the barrel bolt. He pushed the hatch outward and found himself staring into the round, brown eyes of an attractive African-American woman wearing a worn sweaterdress, white stockings and scuffed black pumps. Not exactly boating clothes.

She smiled uncertainly. “Hi, I’m Beverly Hicks. I’m looking for a Cindy Lefler?”

Alarm bells went off in Luke’s head. The woman’s appearance and demeanor screamed one thing to him—government employee. Required to dress up for work but not paid enough to look slick or stylish. Polite demeanor with just a hint of authority.

“You’ve got the right place,” Luke said. Keeping her out wasn’t going to help Cindy in the long run.

“How can I help you?” Cindy said coolly.

“I’m from Social Services. I’ve had a report that you’re living with a baby on this boat.” Beverly Hicks looked pointedly at Adam, then at the stack of boxes.

Damn. The social worker had picked the worst possible time to show up—when the boat was redolent with a used Huggie. Luke grabbed the plastic bag that held the old diaper. “I’ll take care of this.” He’d seen a trash barrel on the dock and he exited the boat in search of it.

When he returned, Beverly was going through the same list of questions Luke had just asked Cindy—bathroom facilities, sleeping arrangements, heating and cooling. And she apparently didn’t like the answers she was getting, judging from the frown and the decisive way she scribbled on a form attached to a clipboard.

Cindy wasn’t exactly helping matters with her confrontational attitude, either.

“Ms. Hicks, does this baby look neglected or abused to you?”

Adam, at that moment, was bouncing on Cindy’s knee, laughing as if this were the greatest entertainment in the world. Anyone could see he was happy, plump and healthy, dressed in clean clothes that fit him well.

“No, he looks very happy,” Beverly agreed. “But I have to follow the guidelines,” she added, not without sympathy. “Someone made a complaint about you.”

“Who?” Cindy shot back. “Who complained?”

“I have to keep that information confidential. But I have to ascertain that certain criteria are being met. And clearly they aren’t. The baby doesn’t even have his own bed.”

“He sleeps with me. Lots of parents let their little ones sleep in their bed.”

“But the rules state the child has to have his own bed. And a place to bathe. And heat.”

Oh, boy, Luke thought. He didn’t like the sounds of this.

“This is only temporary,” Luke put in. He extended his hand to the social worker. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Luke Rheems. I can vouch for Cindy—she’s a really great mother.”

Beverly shook his hand, silently appraising him. “I’m sure Ms. Lefler does the very best she can. Still, these arrangements aren’t satisfactory. Adam is ambulatory. He could wake up, walk outside, fall off the boat and drown.”

“That would never happen!” Cindy objected.

“Nevertheless, I’m afraid I’ll have to take temporary custody of Adam. We’ll put him in foster care until you can make other living arrangements that meet the state’s requirements.”

Cindy looked horrified. She wrapped her arms around Adam. “You are not taking my baby. No. No way.”

Beverly looked at Luke, pleading for understanding. “You’re in law enforcement. You understand how these laws work, don’t you?”

Unfortunately he did. But he agreed totally with Cindy. No way was Adam going into foster care. The mere thought of what could happen to a baby dropped into the hands of supposedly caring, qualified strangers made that instant coffee he’d drunk churn bitterly in his stomach.

“There must be some other way to deal with this,” Cindy said, obviously struggling not to lose her cool completely.

“Well, if there’s a qualified relative he could stay with,” Beverly said. “What about the father? Is he in the picture?”

Cindy opened her mouth to answer, no doubt about to inform Beverly that the father was deceased. But Luke beat her to the punch.

“Actually, I’m Adam’s father,” he said. “Cindy and I were just discussing the possibility of Adam coming to live with me for a while until she can pull things together.” He hadn’t planned to tell such a whopper. It had just come out of his mouth, naturally as could be.

Cindy’s jaw dropped, a denial ready, but Beverly smiled, obviously relieved. “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so? That’s a different situation altogether. You two are on amicable terms, then?”

“Oh, yes,” Luke answered quickly to keep Beverly’s attention on him. Cindy was still gaping in shock, but so far she hadn’t objected aloud.

“Do you have experience caring for a baby?” Beverly asked suspiciously, obviously doubting that this big, strapping lawman knew the difference between a diaper and a pacifier.

“Oh, yes, ma’am. I grew up in a foster home with lots of kids. I got real good at the diaper changing and bottle warming.” As if to emphasize the point, he picked up Adam and cuddled him, knowing he would look perfectly natural and comfortable with the baby—and that Adam wouldn’t object.

Beverly nodded. “What sort of child-care arrangements could you make while you’re working?” she asked, taking notes now.

“My mother—well, she’s my foster mother—lives nearby. She’s retired and I know she’d love taking care of Adam while I’m at work.”

Beverly looked expectantly at Cindy, who had managed to school her face. “Is this arrangement satisfactory to you?”

“It’s not ideal,” she said. “But I’d rather that than foster care.”

Beverly’s eyes flickered with worry. “Do you have concerns about Deputy Rheems’s ability to adequately care for Adam?”

Cindy shook her head. “No. He’s very responsible. It’s just—oh, never mind. It’s fine.”

Beverly smiled. “Very good, then. I’ll get some information from you, then I’ll check back in a day or two to make sure everything’s A-OK.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, meaning it. Beverly took down some pertinent information about him—address, phone, work schedule, his foster mother’s name and address. Then she turned her attention back to Cindy.

“Now, then. Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need food? Diapers?”

“I’m not some welfare mother,” Cindy said indignantly. “I’ve always paid my own way and I’ll continue to do so.”

Beverly seemed to frost over. “Excuse me, but I used to be a ‘welfare mother,’ as you call it. Everyone needs help now and then. Don’t let your pride get in the way of common sense.” She gave Adam a look of pity, tousled his downy hair, then saw herself out.

Luke and Cindy stared at each other in silence until the sound of Beverly’s heels thump-thumping on the wooden dock receded into the distance.

“Are you out of your mind?” Cindy reached for Adam, who had started to fret.

“I should think you’d be thanking me. I kept that woman from taking Adam away, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, with a huge lie! What’s going to happen when she finds out the truth?”

“She won’t find out.”

“Of course she will! She’ll go back to whoever made the complaint and tell them Adam’s going to live with his father, and then she’ll find out Adam’s father is dead and all hell will break loose.”

“Cindy, listen. Social workers have to adhere to privacy laws. If she tells the complainant anything, she’ll simply say that the matter is taken care of. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?”

Adam’s fussing got louder. Luke theorized the baby was responding more to the escalating tension than his hunger, but Cindy moved into the tiny galley and fished around in a box while jiggling Adam on one hip the way all mothers instinctively learned how to do. She produced a jar of baby cereal and a spoon.

“Don’t worry—right.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “That woman’s going to be back, and she’s going to expect to find Adam all cozy in your house, with his granny taking care of him.”

“That’s what she’ll find, all right.”

“Over my dead body. Just because you’re a deputy sheriff doesn’t mean you can take my kid away, so just get that out of your head.”

CINDY PULLED SOME ORANGE juice from a cooler of melting ice and poured it into a Tommy Tippee cup. Adam eagerly reached for the cup, the juice magically silencing his fretting.

She wished Luke would just go away. He was too big for this little boat, his presence too overpowering. Even Beverly, a complete stranger, hadn’t been immune to his sense of authority and the way his feet practically grew roots wherever he stood.

Cindy imagined Beverly hadn’t been immune to Luke’s sex appeal, either. What living, breathing woman could miss it? Though Beverly was at least ten years older than Luke, she’d batted her eyelashes at him like a teenage girl with a crush.

He was impossible to ignore, though Cindy was trying her hardest.

“Maybe you missed what just happened,” Luke said tightly, “but I’m trying my best to keep you and Adam together, not strip him away from you.”

Cindy knew what he said was true. That was what Luke was all about—keeping families together. He was the best lawman Cottonwood had ever seen. And though he was adept at solving crimes—the few there were in their little town—his main priority had always been helping kids, keeping them in school, keeping them off drugs. He volunteered a ton of hours at schools and churches and rec centers, organizing after-school sports programs and homework study groups.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she finally said. “This whole thing has just thrown me so off balance. I feel like a stray mother cat, hissing and clawing at anyone who comes near, even people trying to help.”

She reclaimed her seat on the banquette, opened the jar of cereal and quietly began to feed Adam. Just recently he’d started grabbing the spoon on his own, trying to shove food into his own mouth. Today she didn’t have the patience to clean up the results of such efforts, so they both held on to the spoon, managing to get most of the cereal into Adam rather than onto his shirt. He had bibs, but she didn’t know where they were.

“You can’t just ignore me and hope I’ll go away,” Luke continued. “You have to start dealing with the reality of your situation.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“I have an idea. There’s a carriage-house apartment behind my house. It hasn’t been used in years, but if memory serves, it has a bathroom and a kitchenette.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t afford rent.” It was the first excuse that came to mind. What she really couldn’t afford was to install herself so close to Luke. She was not immune to his appeal, despite all the years that had passed since they’d been lovers. Eight years of marriage, a baby plus her whirlwind affair—what else could she call it?—with Dex/Marvin, and she’d never once gone to sleep at night without at least a fleeting thought to her first love and what might have been if they’d wanted the same things out of life.

She didn’t need that right now. Lord knew, the last thing she could use in her life was a man, even if he was promising to help her out of a jam. Anyway, she didn’t trust herself. She had the good judgment of a fungus, given her recent history.

“Did I say anything about rent? Come on, Cindy, the apartment’s just sitting there. It’s not much, and it’ll have to be cleaned out and fixed up a bit, but it should make Social Services happy.”

“I really wish you’d just leave me alone.”

He stared at her, challenging, for a few seconds before dropping his gaze. “Yeah, I’ll go. But you’ll have to answer a few questions, first.”

“Whatever.”

“What should I tell Beverly Hicks when she comes calling tomorrow or the next day?”

“Tell her we changed our minds.”

“Uh-huh. And when she comes back here? She will, you know. It’s her job. You might think she’s a nitpicking pain in the butt, but she cares about children or she wouldn’t be in that line of work. And she’s not going to sweep this under the rug. She’ll be back, and next time she will take Adam. And if you won’t give him up willingly, she will summon the law—me—to enforce her decision.”

“Can she do that?” Cindy asked, feeling truly afraid for the first time.

He nodded grimly, his fists so tight he could feel his skin tightening over the knuckles. “It happens all the time. It happened to me, Cindy. And my mother never got me back.”