Читать книгу The Deputy's Unexpected Family - Patricia Johns - Страница 15

Chapter Four

Harper hadn’t handled that very well, had she? Or maybe it was just Gabe who hadn’t taken the news very gracefully. It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of time to plan it out. If she’d waited and told him another time—maybe when he was back in Fort Collins—there would always be the question of why she hadn’t told him now. This was the right thing...wasn’t it? How much gentler could she have been?

Regardless, Gabe had run for the hills, and she wasn’t surprised. At least she shouldn’t be.

Harper finished dismantling the mannequins that had been slashed—she couldn’t look at those demolished dresses any longer. They were expensive gowns, and while insurance would compensate her for her loss, it wasn’t only about the money. The vandalism was violent, frightening and such a willful destruction of something beautiful. She took some photos for insurance purposes and then folded what was left of the gowns into storage boxes. Maybe she could make use of some of the fabric for something else and they wouldn’t be a complete waste.

Harper kept looking up whenever she heard a noise, expecting to see Gabe come back in, but he didn’t return. Zoey finished drawing her pictures, and when Harper was convinced she wouldn’t get anything more done with her daughter underfoot, she locked up the shop and drove Zoey home.

Harper didn’t live far from the shop. Her house was a little two-bedroom bungalow two streets over from where she’d grown up. It was the perfect-size home for a woman on her own, so bringing Zoey into the mix had required some reshuffling—of everything. What used to be her home office was now Zoey’s bedroom. It was just as well, Harper decided. Now that she had a child to care for, she’d leave work at work. There was no more room for it in her evenings with Zoey.

“Will we get the crowns back?” Zoey asked, kicking off her shoes. Harper caught the girl’s jacket before it hit the ground and hung it on the peg behind her.

“Probably not,” Harper said. “But the insurance company will give us money to order more.”

“I miss the crowns.”

So did Harper. This robbery felt personal. It was an invasion, and it had left her more shaken than she liked to admit.

“Are you hungry?” Harper asked.

“Yep. Can I have a snack?” Zoey asked hopefully. “I want cheese.”

“I’ll make supper,” Harper replied with a rueful shake of her head. “And after supper, you’re going to visit Grandma Jane for a little while. She’s going to make cookies with you.”

“Cookies?”

“You know Grandma Jane’s cookies.” She smiled.

“Mommy made good cookies...”

There it was—the sadness that always seemed so close to the surface, and Harper sank down onto her haunches and opened up her arms. “Come here, sweetie.”

Zoey crawled into Harper’s arms and she held the girl close, breathing in the scent of her. This child had lost so much, and Harper couldn’t make it okay. All she could do was hug her through it.

“I miss your mom, too,” Harper said softly. “Her cookies were great, weren’t they?”

Zoey nodded mutely against Harper’s shoulder.

“And we’ll see her again, Zoey,” Harper murmured. “One day, when we’re in Heaven. That wasn’t a forever goodbye, sweetie. That was a...so long for now.”

That’s when Harper would have to hand Zoey back to Andrea and tell her that she’d done her very best to raise Zoey right and to keep Andrea’s memory alive. It was a mammoth job, and she was only now starting to appreciate how hard it would be.

Harper’s legs began to cramp, and she laughed softly. “I’m going to fall over, Zoey.”

Zoey giggled and wriggled free as Harper caught herself with one hand, and Zoey wandered off to the living room. Thankfully, Harper wasn’t completely alone in this. She had the grandparents—Andrea’s parents and her own—who were a wealth of advice, babysitting and prayer. Plus there was her sister, friends and community... Harper would take all the help she could get.

Supper that night consisted of chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes and some boiled carrots on the side. Boiled carrots were one of the few vegetables that Zoey would eat without too much complaint. One of the things Harper had learned over the last six months was that Zoey was capable of living entirely off snack food if allowed, and it was up to Harper to insist upon meals three times a day. Cheese sticks, applesauce cups and fish-shaped crackers did not make for balanced nutrition. Most days. Some days, she chose her battles.

And speaking of battles, today she’d chosen a doozy telling Gabe about his daughter. Thinking about it now, she should have talked to Andrea’s parents, Mike and Jane Murphy, first. They’d certainly have a few opinions about what she’d just done, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she’d have their support in this.

“Lord, what was I thinking?” she breathed.

Harper rubbed her hands over her face. She wouldn’t rest tonight—not while she was wondering how Gabe had taken all of this. She had three options: talk to the Murphys and see how they reacted, talk to Gabe and see what he was feeling, or...wait.

Waiting wasn’t actually an option—who was she kidding? Since Zoey was scheduled to hang out with her grandparents this evening, she might as well make use of the time to herself and get things sorted out with Gabe. The Murphys would have questions—lots of them—and she’d rather have a few answers lined up.

So that evening, after dropping Zoey off with the Murphys, Harper drove to the police station and parked. The station glowed from the inside, and Harper eyed the brick building uncertainly. If Gabe was working, she wasn’t going to be a welcome sight.

“Whatever,” she muttered aloud.

Harper got out of her vehicle and headed up the walk to the front door. So he wouldn’t be thrilled to see her... She shouldn’t have to chase the man down, either! He’d just been told that he was a father, not that he was dying. Any man should be honored to be Zoey’s dad. She was a smart, sweet little girl with a heart of gold, and acknowledging her wasn’t a punishment. So let him be uncomfortable—she was in Zoey’s court right now, and she was doing this for her daughter.

Harper trotted up the front steps and pulled open the glass door. A welcome wave of warmth hit her as she stepped inside the precinct. She rubbed her hands together and paused at the empty reception desk. She glanced at her watch—it was almost seven o’clock, and the receptionist would have already gone home. So she headed over to the bull pen and peered inside.

Bryce Camden was sitting at his desk, typing at his computer. He glanced up when he saw her. There wasn’t anyone else around that Harper could see.

“Hi,” Bryce said. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was looking for one of the visiting officers—Gabe Banks.”

“He’s here,” Bryce replied. He looked toward a hallway, then around the office. “I’m just finishing something up here. He’s in the lunchroom on break. You could just poke your head in there—it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Harper hesitated, then sighed. What other option did she have? At least there wasn’t an audience for this meeting. She headed toward the closed door Bryce indicated, and looked back to get his confirmation it was the right room. Then she tapped on the door and pushed it open.

Gabe wasn’t alone in the room as expected, and Harper stopped short. There was a woman with him, and Gabe was leaning on the edge of a counter, facing her. His warm gaze was locked on her face, and he was laughing softly about something. The woman—Harper recognized her as an officer, but she wasn’t in uniform—was staring at him adoringly.

Yeah—not much had changed around here. Harper felt a rise of anger that she couldn’t quite explain. What should it matter to her if he was flirting around town again?

“Sorry to interrupt,” Harper said curtly, and both Gabe and the woman turned toward her.

“Not at all,” she said. “My shift is over anyway. I’d better get home.” The woman rose to her feet and leaned in, kissing Gabe on the cheek. “You’re one in a million, Gabe. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Gabe said with a playful shrug. “But it’s nice to hear all the same.”

“You...” The woman shook her head. “Good night. I’m going home.”

“Good night, Tammy.”

Tammy nodded to Harper as she headed out of the room, and Harper stared at Gabe in mild disgust. It didn’t take him long to work the field, did it? She didn’t know why this bothered her so much—because she was being proven right, after all—but it did.

“What are you doing here?” Gabe asked, and Harper raised an eyebrow. He frowned. “What?”

“Same old Gabe Banks,” she said, wishing she sounded a little less bitter than she did.

“That?” He hooked a thumb toward the half-open door. “First of all, you don’t have a right to question anything I do. Second, don’t judge a situation before you know what’s going on.”

“I’m not asking,” Harper replied. “You’re right. Not my business.”

Gabe eyed her for a moment, then sighed. “I should have come back into the store.”

“Yes, you should have.” But coming here had been a mistake. She could feel it already. These were his stomping grounds, not hers, and she’d probably see more than she wanted to. Gabe might be Zoey’s dad, but he wasn’t anything more to Harper, so she’d better start appreciating those boundaries now.

“I was around, you know,” he said. “I didn’t just leave you there without police supervision.”

“That would have been nice to know,” she said.

“I’m sorry if you felt...unsafe.” His voice lowered. “I was there. I’m not proud of how I handled that, and I think I owe you an apology.”

There was his charm again—but charm wasn’t going to be enough here.

“It’s okay. I get that I dropped a bomb on you. I came by tonight because I was worried.” She glanced in the direction Tammy had left. “Although I probably shouldn’t have bothered.”

A humored smile tickled his lips. “I’m a big boy now, Harper.”

“Actually, I was more worried about Zoey,” she retorted. “Obviously, you can fend for yourself. You always have.”

Gabe ignored the inference and sighed. “Did you tell Zoey about me? I’d assumed you wouldn’t—not yet, at least.”

“No, no, I haven’t told her,” Harper replied. “But this does concern her, doesn’t it? You’re her father, and if you don’t want to be in her life, I can live with that.” In some selfish part of her heart, she might even be hoping for it, she realized. “But I need to know where you stand on all of this.”