Читать книгу Safe In The Lawman's Arms - Patricia Johns - Страница 10

Chapter Three

The next morning, Mike stood in the kitchen, listening to the soft peals of laughter filtering through the ceiling above. Malory was getting Katy dressed, and he had to admit that there was something very sweet about the sound of a woman’s voice in the house.

“One...two...up we go!” Katy’s laughter followed.

Mike took another sip of aromatic black coffee and leaned with his backside against the counter. Tonight he’d work a late shift, so this morning was free. There’d been a time—about a week ago, to be exact—when that had meant sleeping in, watching a movie or working out at the gym. Now those things seemed out of place, somehow. Malory’s words from the evening before were still echoing through his mind. He had a responsibility to Katy, whether he thought he was good for the girl or not. He might be trying to keep an emotional distance, but Katy needed more from him. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to give it, but maybe he could put in some effort here.

The clatter of footsteps echoed down the staircase, and a moment later, a beaming little face appeared around the corner, blond curls in pigtails and a little pink dress ruffling out around her thin legs.

“Good morning, Katy,” Mike said.

“Hi.” She stared up at him, big blue eyes fixed on his face. “Do you have food?”

“Uh—” He looked over at the kitchen table, where a breakfast spread awaited. “Yes.”

Katy scampered over to a kitchen chair and climbed up, grabbing for the nearest box of cereal and shaking it exuberantly. Malory calmly rescued the box before it exploded, slipping it from her charge’s small fingers.

“Not like that,” Malory said. “I’ll pour you a bowl, okay? Sit down.”

Malory shot Mike a smile as she prepared Katy’s bowl of cornflakes. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable with this domestic scene in the middle of his house. “And you?”

“Like a baby.” She chuckled as she stretched forward to reach the pitcher.

“So I was thinking about what you said last night,” Mike said.

Katy wasn’t paying attention, her attention on the food in front of her. Malory glanced up, brown eyes meeting his.

“I thought I might take the two of you out for ice cream this afternoon.”

“Great idea,” Malory agreed. She tucked her sandy-blond hair behind one ear, exposing the creamy length of her neck. “What do you think of that, Katy? Should we go out for ice cream today?”

Katy nodded and picked up a spoon in one fist as Malory set the bowl in front of her. She dug in immediately, milk dribbling down her chin. Her excitement at the prospect of breakfast saddened him. Well-fed kids tended to be pickier eaters than Katy was, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many mornings she’d had the option of breakfast in her young life.

“How are you settling in?” Mike asked as Malory sat down opposite Katy and reached for her own cereal.

“This is a beautiful home. I’m very comfortable.” She poured a full bowl and added milk. “It can’t be easy to share your space, though.”

“Oh, I survive.” A smile played on his lips. Truth be told, he was having trouble thinking about anything more than the pretty nanny in his house. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo in the hallway that led away from the main bathroom. The sound of her cheerful tones filtered through the house in daylight, and all last night, he’d found himself uncomfortably aware that she slept down the hall.

“I took a shower late last night,” Malory said. “I was worried it might wake you. Maybe we could decide on a lights-out time so that you aren’t disturbed.”

Mike shook his head. “No, don’t worry about that. You’re no bother.”

Frankly, it wasn’t her problem if he couldn’t get his mind off her. She was just doing her job, and he’d have to practice a little more mental self-control. She was the kind of woman who would draw his eye in a social setting with her down-home good looks. If he saw her standing by the buns at a barbecue, her hair tucked behind her ear like that, he’d find his way over and introduce himself. But this was different—this was a professional line.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t have any photos around your home,” Malory said, her brown eyes meeting his. “Why is that?”

“I’ve mentioned the Cruise clan, haven’t I?” He gave her a wry smile.

“But what about your mom?” she asked. “Don’t you have pictures of her?”

He sighed. Having a woman living in his home seemed like a great idea when he needed round-the-clock child care for Katy, but right about now it made privacy a whole lot harder. “I said that my mom died, right?”

She nodded, chewing her cereal thoughtfully.

“I’m pretty sure she did, at least. I just don’t know when. She ran off and left us when I was young. I don’t have many memories of her, but all of them involved yelling and anger.”

“Oh...” Malory winced. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Haven’t you searched for her?”

“I have, but I couldn’t find anything. My dad told me she died, so maybe he was right. He had a pretty flexible relationship with the truth, so I didn’t know.” He stopped when he saw the sadness swimming through Malory’s eyes. “Sorry. This is why I don’t talk about these things.”

“Don’t you have anyone you trust?” she asked quietly.

“I trust the sheriff’s department. I trust the officers I work with day in and day out. I trust myself.”

She nodded slowly. “That’s something.” Malory passed Katy half a banana, her gaze flickering toward him, then back to her charge. “It seems a little empty in here without pictures.”

“I like it this way.” Irritation wormed its way up inside him. He had a painful past, and pictures only served to remind him of it. He preferred to live in the present, enjoy the security of the life he worked for.

Mike let his gaze roam around his kitchen and out into the slice of living room that was visible. He hadn’t actually intended to keep his home so free of pictures. One day, he always thought he’d have wedding photos, school pictures and family portraits of his own brood. But then he’d be able to protect them. He’d be able to put up a wall between them and the extended family that used and abused with apparent abandon.

Katy dropped the last of her banana into her bowl.

“You’re done?” Malory asked. “Okay. Can you wash your hands by yourself, or do you need my help?”

“I can do it!” Katy declared and clattered from the table.

“You think I’m heartless, don’t you?” Mike asked when they stood alone in the kitchen.

“No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re scarred.”

He shrugged, accepting her estimation. Maybe he was. “You do realize that as a law-enforcement officer, I can’t associate with known felons, right?”

“That makes sense.”

“And that includes pretty much all of my family.”

“Except Katy.”

“Yes, except Katy.” He grabbed the boxes of cereal and brought them to the cupboard. “You can’t really understand where I’m coming from unless you’ve experienced it.”

She was silent, and he glanced over to find her brown eyes trained on him. “And you don’t think that they can change?” she asked.

“Change?” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve been a sheriff for ten years and I’ve never seen anyone change.”

“You changed,” she countered.

“There are a few rescues,” he admitted. “I was one of them. But not many. Addiction is like that. It’s a vise grip.”

“I could see that.”

“And the lies...the constant lying. It gets to me. You know they’re lying to you and you know exactly why. Everyone has a reason to lie. In court it’s called motive.”

“What would they lie about?” she asked, her expression clouding. She shifted in her seat.

“Everything. Anything. Do you know what it’s like to not be able to trust anything someone tells you?”

“I know what it’s like to find out I’ve been duped,” she replied with a wry smile.

He paused, wondering who’d duped her in the past, but there wasn’t time to ask. Katy came back down the stairs, water saturating her dress front. She looked up at Malory with a big smile. “I’m done.”

“You need a tiny bit of help.” Malory chuckled. “Come on... Let’s go get you cleaned up. We have to brush your teeth, too...”

Malory left the room, and Mike sighed. He was talking too much. He didn’t know what it was about this lovely nanny, but he found himself opening up more than he was comfortable with—talking about all the things he normally kept sealed safely inside.

Their footsteps clomped up the stairs toward the bathroom. Mike suspected that Malory was holding something back—something that made her nervous when he talked about honesty and lies. He hadn’t missed the tension in her stance when the topic came up—the sheriff in him didn’t just turn off when he was off duty.

And someone had duped her... For some reason, that little nugget of information stuck.

* * *

BEAUTY’S ICE CREAM was an old-fashioned place sandwiched between a coffee shop and a fish-and-chips restaurant. Outside, in the front window, faded pictures of various ice-cream treats advertised the options. A large pink ice-cream cone stood like a sentinel next to the door. It was an old building with some peeling paint and vinyl booths that could be seen through the window. Above them, the vast expanse of prairie sky stretched over the town—watery blue scratched across with wispy clouds. A warm breeze stirred, and Malory pulled her hair away from her face.

“You ready?” Mike asked, pulling open the door and stepping back. He shot her a grin.

Katy hung back, distrust etched in her tiny features.

“Don’t you want ice cream?” Malory asked.

Katy scowled in the direction of the door.

“Not going in,” she declared.

“Why not?” Malory bent down and then crouched next to Katy. It was awkward, and she felt her position shift to make way for the swell of her belly. She realized with a sinking feeling that she’d have trouble standing up again on her own. Something had changed even in the past few days.

“No!” Katy said, her little voice echoing across the street. “No!”

It was a tantrum...or would be soon. Malory wasn’t surprised in the least.

“Really?” Malory asked, exaggerating her surprise. “Because I sure wanted ice cream.”

Katy’s face screwed up into a wail before the sound even started, and then she flopped herself onto the ground and howled. Malory winced.

“Wow,” Mike said.

Malory shrugged. “It happens. She’s three. Expect more of this.”

“Over ice cream?” Mike looked incredulous.

“Why not? She’s been through a lot. She doesn’t know how to make sense of it. Sometimes a little venting helps.”

Katy was in full tantrum now, but she wasn’t going to hurt herself. Malory tried to stand up and she suddenly knew what had changed over the past couple of days—her center of gravity. Her stomach sank. This was the last thing she’d expected, and she glanced nervously toward Mike.

“Could I get a hand?” she asked, attempting to sound as natural as possible. Mike looked back at her curiously, then down at the wailing toddler. Katy hadn’t let up, but she couldn’t keep going forever, either.

“You okay?” Mike held out a hand, and when she took it, he lifted her easily to her feet. She stumbled forward as she rose and landed in Mike’s strong arms. He was like a tank—solid with muscle and about as immovable. Her body connected with his, and Mike froze, then looked down at her in unveiled surprise.

“Wait, you’re—” He released her and stepped back, looking her up and down. Malory quickly adjusted her top and turned her attention to Katy, whose wails were now abating.

“Are we ready for ice cream, then?” Malory asked brightly. “I like vanilla ice cream. What kind do you like, sweetie?”

Katy sniffled and looked up at Malory dubiously.

“I don’t know,” Katy said after a moment, and she got back to her feet.

Malory glanced at Mike once more, and she found his dark eyes locked on her. He knew. He’d felt her belly when he caught her. She knew she couldn’t unring that bell, but she still held on to a fragment of hope that she might be able to hide her pregnancy awhile longer.

“So...” His voice was low and calm.

She sighed, giving in to the impulse and putting a hand onto her belly. “Yes, I’m pregnant. I thought I could keep it to myself, but—” She glanced down at her stomach. She’d been growing, and even the most careful dressing couldn’t fully mask it any longer. She’d wondered when she’d start to show—apparently, at four and a half months.

“Okay.” He looked toward the door of the shop but didn’t move. “You didn’t want to mention it?”

“It’s personal.” She threw him a defiant look, then dropped the bravado. “Mike, I need this job. The agency won’t keep me on if I can’t get a position, and I need the health insurance. It costs a lot to have a baby, and if I lost my health insurance...” She didn’t need to finish.

“Yeah, I could see that.” He sighed. “I wish you’d said something.”

The wind whisked some hair into her eyes and she pulled it back irritably. He wanted her to say something? Had he ever had to risk his ability to keep his health insurance? This pregnancy had been a shock. It wasn’t as if she had a contingency plan! The father was canoodling with the one woman she’d thought she’d always be able to count on, and she had to figure this all out before the baby was born.

“So am I fired?” she asked abruptly.

His dark eyes swept over her, his emotions hidden behind that mask of his. Then he shook his head. “No. Legally, you don’t need to disclose that information.”

She tried to suppress the sigh of relief. “But you’re still probably annoyed.”

He nodded slowly, and for a brief moment disappointment cracked through his professional demeanor.

“I like honesty.” His expression froze her in place for what felt like an eternal moment.

Honesty. His words stung more than any firing would have. She’d always considered herself an honest person. She believed in honesty, too, but when things got complicated, she also had a real appreciation for privacy. She’d never imagined herself pregnant and alone. She’d always wanted to be married first. Maybe even own a home. But here she was, on the cusp of single parenthood. Did he have any idea how terrifying that was?

“Let’s get some ice cream,” he said after a moment and pulled open the door and held it for her, a bell tinkling overhead. The gesture was sweetly old-fashioned.

“Come on, sweetie,” she said softly, taking Katy’s hand in hers. “We need ice cream.”

Her stomach rumbled. She needed more than comfort; she was hungry. As she approached the door to the shop, held open by the broad-shouldered sheriff, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing would ever be the same again.

She could finally admit it. She was officially eating—and working—for two.