Читать книгу How To Steal The Lawman's Heart - Kathy Douglass - Страница 11

Chapter Three

“What are you doing here?”

Carmen took in the chief’s angry face and quickly looked away as she searched for an answer. He stood between two girls, who she guessed were his daughters. The younger one looked about eight. She had a pink sheet of construction paper in her hand and was looking at Carmen curiously, a smile on her pretty face.

The other girl was older, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She was tall and thin, with an unreadable expression, her hands shoved in the back pockets of her tight jeans. She glanced at Carmen and then sighed before turning away.

Finally, Carmen did what she’d been avoiding. She looked at Chief Knight. He’d changed out of his uniform and into a pair of dark dress pants and a white pullover. Despite her nervousness, she couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt emphasized his fit torso, and then she immediately chided herself for gawking at him in front of his children. He was holding a bunch of wildflowers and a large balloon that read Happy Birthday!

A fresh wave of guilt swept through Carmen. Although she needed to begin to make amends, this clearly wasn’t the time or the place. Mumbling an apology, she started to walk away. She’d taken only one step when her heel sank into wet grass and she stumbled. She reached out for something to break her fall but encountered only air.

Cursing under his breath, Chief Knight dropped the bouquet, grabbed her upper arms and helped her to a stone bench under a nearby tree.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Their eyes met and she wished they hadn’t. Although he’d kept her from falling, his eyes reflected none of the concern of his actions. Moving to assist her had been instinctive and definitely not something he’d done out of care for her. The pure hatred in his eyes drove that point home.

He leaned in close so she alone could hear his words. Close enough for her to notice the gray flecks in his otherwise black eyes. “Don’t say that to me ever again. Your regret, even if I was foolish enough to believe it was sincere, changes nothing. Understand?”

He released her arms and quickly moved away. She nodded, choking back another apology. He was right. Words didn’t have the power to change the past. Nothing did.

“Who are you?” The little girl had followed them and now she was mere inches away, a curious expression on her pretty brown face. Dressed in a bright yellow sundress with matching hair ribbons on her two thick braids, she looked like an angel. Her gaze darted between Carmen and her father, who stood there fuming, clearly trying to control his anger.

“My name is Carmen. Carmen Shields.”

The child edged closer. She looked over her shoulder at her mother’s grave and then back to Carmen. “Did you know my mommy?”

“No,” Carmen admitted, her discomfort growing. Coming here was a mistake. She was intruding on a private family moment. She should have thought this through instead of reverting to her old impulsive behavior.

“Robyn, go wait with your sister.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The little girl took a step and stopped. She turned back to Carmen and smiled wistfully. “Mommy was special. Everybody loved her. She loved us a lot,” the girl added, before she joined her sister by the grave.

Carmen had the feeling the child had heard these words so often over the years that they fell from her lips automatically. She was probably too young to have any memories of being loved by her mother. Carmen’s regret turned to a rock of shame that settled in her stomach.

Carmen straightened her jacket, doing her best to avoid Chief Knight’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

She wanted to get away from him as fast as she could. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to wipe away the odd tingling sensation his touch left behind.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to freedom. “You never answered my question. What are you doing at my wife’s grave?”

Carmen shook her head without answering. How could she explain that she’d been drawn there? Or her need to apologize to someone who wouldn’t hear anything she said? Did words even exist to explain the vow she’d made to the other woman? She didn’t think so. Stepping around him, she hurried away.

* * *

Trent watched as Carmen weaved her way through the cemetery, carefully stepping around vases of flowers, framed pictures and other items leaning against the gravestones.

“Why was that lady here, Daddy?” Robyn asked, slipping her small hand into his and swinging their arms back and forth.

Trent shook off his anger and smiled at his younger daughter. Robyn had inherited Anna’s sunny disposition. To her, there was no such thing as a stranger, only a friend she hadn’t yet met.

“I don’t know.”

“Who was she?”

He hoped Robyn’s persistence wasn’t a sign she’d picked up on his hostility and in her youthful way was trying to figure it out.

“I know who she was,” Alyssa said.

His older daughter barely spoke to him these days unless he asked her a direct question. And then her answers were curt, as if she were rationing her words. Since her conversation was at such a premium, Trent was generally glad to hear whatever she had to say. This time, though, his heart was filled with dread. He didn’t want to talk about the night Anna died.

“You do?” How had Alyssa recognized Carmen Shields? She’d been only seven when Anna died.

“Yes.” Alyssa didn’t elaborate. Instead, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. When she turned thirteen, she’d insisted she needed to have her hair relaxed so she could stop wearing ponytails like a kid.

“Who is she?” Robyn asked again, hopping from one foot to the other when it looked like Alyssa wasn’t going to elaborate.

Alyssa focused her gaze on her sister, effectively excluding him from the conversation. “She’s one of Mrs. Shields’s relatives. You know, the lady who always brought cookies and cakes to the youth center.”

“She was nice. She always gave me an extra cookie,” Robyn said. Her eyes stopped dancing and turned solemn. “She died.”

“I know,” Trent said, feeling unwanted sympathy for Carmen Shields and her family. Rachel Shields had been a kind woman. Days after Anna’s funeral, Mrs. Shields had come to the police station and apologized for the role her daughter played in his wife’s death. He’d walked away before she could finish speaking.

She hadn’t held his behavior against him. He later discovered that she’d organized the women of her church to cook meals for his family. For eight weeks, a complete dinner had been delivered to his house promptly at five o’clock every evening. She’d also been the catalyst behind the ladies who’d shown up every Saturday to clean his house and do the laundry. As a single father of a one-year-old and a seven-year-old, he’d appreciated it.

How could a wonderful woman like Rachel Shields have raised such a thoughtless and reckless child as Carmen? Determined not to give the woman another thought, he turned to his girls.

“Come on. Let’s put down Mom’s gifts.”

All discussion of Carmen was set aside as Trent and his daughters focused their attention on Anna’s grave. The grass was neatly trimmed and Trent had scrubbed the headstone just days earlier. Robyn leaned the picture she’d drawn against her mother’s name engraved on the granite, while Alyssa tied the string holding the balloon to a heavy rock and then set it on the gravestone. If Anna had lived, she’d be thirty-eight years old today. She’d died much too young.

Trent did everything in his power to keep Anna’s memory alive for his daughters, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. Alyssa had been young when Anna died, but she had some memories of her mother. Robyn had been only a baby and had no true memories of her own. He constantly reminded both that their mother had loved them, but lately he was starting to believe that wasn’t enough.

As Anna lay dying in his arms, she’d made him promise to find a loving stepmother for their children. It was the only promise he’d ever made to her that he didn’t keep. He couldn’t. He had buried his heart with her. There was nothing left to give another woman.