Desperately Seeking Dad (6 page)

BOOK: Desperately Seeking Dad
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Her eyebrows lifted. “Did you also belong to the singles group?”

“No.” People went to that, for the most part, because they wanted a social life. He didn't, so he didn't attend. “But I know Simon Richie pretty well. The questions would come better from me.”

“I'd rather ask him myself.”

Somehow this sounded familiar. If Anne Morden ever depended on anybody but herself, he had yet to see it.

“Look, if you go walking into Simon's office asking about this girl, it's going to make people wonder.”

“I don't see why. I'll just say I'm a friend of a friend.”

She clearly still didn't see the rampant curiosity with which people in town surveyed her every move.

“Let me find a less obvious way of going about it.”

She seemed to be weighing that, and for a moment he thought she'd agree.

“Grace Church…isn't that where Kate belongs?”

He nodded.

“Kate's invited me to go to a church potluck supper with her tonight. I'm sure I'll have a chance to
meet your Pastor Richie. I can bring up the subject casually.”

He pictured her mentioning it in front of several of the most notorious gossips in town. She was determined, so there was only one thing he could do.

“Fine.” He smiled. “I'll pick you up at ten to six, then.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Didn't Kate tell you? We often go to the church suppers together.”
Sometimes, anyway.

He was doing what he had to. If he expected to stay in control of this situation, he needed to keep tabs on Anne.

Unfortunately, he had a strong suspicion he had another motivation.

“Well, don't you look nice.” Kate turned from the kitchen stove to assess Anne and Emilie. “Both of you.”

Anne brushed one hand down the soft wool of her emerald skirt. It matched the green of Emilie's jumper, so she'd decided to wear it. “Is it too dressy?”

Kate shook her head. “You look as pretty as a picture. I'm sure Mitch will say the same.”

Oh, dear. There it was again: Kate's insistence on pairing the two of them up like bookends.

When she'd returned to the house earlier and told Kate they were going to the potluck, the elderly woman had been delighted. Anne had tried to dis
suade Kate's all-too-obvious matchmaking, to no avail.

Well, what should she say? That Mitch wouldn't care how she looked? That the only reason he'd decided to take them to the potluck was to keep her from blurting out something indiscreet to Pastor Richie? It was only too obvious that that was behind his sudden desire to go with them.

There wasn't a thing she could do about Kate's misapprehension, so she might just as well change the subject. “Are you sure I can't fix something? Or stop at the bakery and buy a cake?”

“Goodness, no. There'll be more food than we can eat in a week, as it is. Everyone brings way too much stuff to these suppers.”

Anne had to smile. Kate's righteous assertion was undercut by the fact that she'd prepared an enormous chicken-and-broccoli casserole, and even now was putting a pumpkin pie into her picnic basket.

“You don't think you're taking quite a bit yourself?”

“This little thing? Why, Mitch will probably eat half my casserole himself. That boy does love home cooking…probably because his mother never had time to cook much for them.” Kate's eyes were filled with sympathy. “You do know about Mitch's family, don't you?”

“I know his mother died when he was in high school.” She held Emilie a little closer.

“Well, his father had left before that. Poor
woman worked to take care of those two boys. I'm sure no one could blame her if she wasn't there to cook supper every night. Or if she went out now and then, just to cheer herself up.” Kate yanked open a drawer, muttering to herself about potholders.

Reading between the lines, it sounded as if Mitch had pretty much raised himself. Probably that, along with the military, had made him the person he was.

And what kind of person was that? Anne stared out the window above the sink, where dusk had begun to close in on Kate's terraced hillside garden. A man who'd buried his emotions—that's what she'd thought the first time she'd seen him, and nothing had changed her mind about that. A man who had to be in control, whatever the situation.

That might make him a good cop. But it wasn't a quality, given her strong independent streak, that she'd ever found appealing in a man. Besides, she wasn't interested. In future, her family would consist of Emilie and her, that was all.

She'd told herself she could ignore the attraction she felt for Mitch. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working. That attraction kept popping to the surface every time they were together.

Well, if she couldn't ignore it, she could at least control it. She'd remind herself twenty times a day, if she had to, that he wasn't the kind of man for her, even without the complication of Emilie's parentage.

The doorbell rang. Kate, her hands full of casserole, nodded toward the front hallway. “Would you mind getting that, dear? It'll be Mitch, I'm sure.”

“Of course.” Carrying Emilie, she walked down the hall. This was a good chance to test her resolution. She swung open the door.

“Come in, please. Kate's almost ready.”

Mitch stepped into the hallway, seeming to fill it. “Hey, there, Miss Emilie, are you ready to go to church?”

Emilie bounced and held out her arms to him.

“Let me take her.”

Anne started to turn away just as he reached for the baby, and his hands clasped her arms instead. For a moment they stood touching, the baby between them.

Mitch's large hands tightened, their warmth penetrating the soft wool of her sweater. They were so close that she could see the network of lines at the corners of his eyes, the sweep of his dark lashes, a tiny scar at the corner of his mouth. Those chocolate eyes fixed on hers, and she could hear his breathing quicken. She had to fight the urge to step forward, right into his arms.

She took a deep breath, released Emilie to him, and stepped back. “I'll just get our coats.” Astonishing, that her voice could sound so calm.

Obviously reminding herself twenty times a day wasn't going to be enough.

Chapter Six

I
t was a good thing Anne had pulled away when she did, Mitch decided as he drove them to the church. A very good thing. Because if she hadn't, he just might have kissed her.

Disaster—that's what it would have been, plain and simple. The woman already suspected him of seducing a young girl and leaving her pregnant. What would she think of him if he tried to kiss her?

He pulled into the church parking lot and found a space. He'd better get his head on straight where Anne was concerned. The best way to deal with his inappropriate feelings was to solve Anne's problem for her so she could leave, as soon as possible. And the next step in doing that was to get the information from Pastor Richie himself, and do it without arousing anyone's suspicions.

“Looks like a good turnout.” He held open the door to the church's fellowship hall.

“Goodness, half the town must be here.” Kate bustled in, depositing her picnic basket on the nearest table. “Now, Mitch, why don't you get one of the high chairs for Emilie before they're all gone. I'll find us a nice place and introduce Anne around.”

A warning bell went off in his brain as he went reluctantly in search of a high chair. Who did Kate have in mind for Anne to meet? He could think of at least a half-dozen gossips of both sexes he'd just as soon she avoided.

He'd have to keep an eye on her while looking for a chance to talk to Simon Richie before she did. Right at this moment, he could use a little help.

And there it was. With a sense of relief, he spotted Alex Caine's tall, lean figure. Alex, like Brett, was a friend he could count on. He'd help keep Anne out of trouble.

He deposited the high chair, muttered an excuse to Anne, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes, and worked his way through the crowd to Alex.

“Alex. I'm glad to see you.”

His friend, leaning on the stick he sometimes used since surviving a plane crash a year ago, gave him a sardonic look. “Don't you mean you're surprised to see me?”

He grinned. “That, too.” Another legacy of the accident seemed to be that Alex didn't socialize much.

“I decided this was my best chance to see your Ms. Morden. And baby.”

“Not my Ms. Morden.”
And not my baby.
But he didn't need to say that to Alex. He'd said it once, and it was a measure of their friendship that Alex accepted his denial without question.

Alex's gaze rested on Anne. “Kate seems to have adopted her already. Are you sure it was a good idea to bring her and the baby here?”

“Kate invited them. And once Anne found out Simon Richie might have some information on the girl's roommate, there was no stopping her from coming.”

Alex took a step or two toward the wall, so they were safely out of the flow of traffic and of earshot. “Have you remembered anything else about the girl—Tina, was it?”

“Tina.” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “What's to remember? I barely knew her. She was a nice kid who poured my morning coffee, that's it. I can't figure why she'd lie about something like this.”

“I'd hate to believe you're never going to know the reason.”

He could see Alex's mind ticking over possibilities. Even back in high school, Alex had always been the one with the analytical approach to everything. Where Brett had relied on charm and Mitch on strength, Alex had been the thinker of the team.

“The roommate's the best bet, I suppose,” Alex
said. “If anyone knows who the girl dated, she would.”

Mitch frowned, watching Anne settle Emilie in the high chair. “It just keeps eating at me. Why me? Why did she give my name?”

Alex was silent for a long moment, so long that Mitch turned to look at him. He encountered a searching gaze. “Have you thought about Link?”

Mitch's stomach twisted at the name.
Link.
His brother. “Yes.” He bit off the word. “Of course I have. I know what you're thinking. Using my name would be just the sort of sick joke he'd find funny. But you're forgetting, the girl knew me. Besides, he wasn't in Bedford Creek then.”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure.” Link had a tendency to show up on Mitch's doorstep whenever he was broke or in trouble. “We had a fight the last time he was here, that previous spring. A bad one. I told him I was done bailing him out. He hasn't been back since.” He managed a half smile. “I'd like to believe that means he's gotten his act together, but I doubt it.”

“People change.”

“Not Link.”
Not our father.

Alex shrugged. “I'll take your word for it. Look, they're starting to get the food ready. You need my help with something before I round up my son for dinner?”

“Just keep an eye on Anne. I want to see Simon alone before she has a chance to collar him. But I
don't want her getting the third degree from any of our local busybodies.”

“And you expect me to prevent that?” Alex lifted an eyebrow. “You're underestimating them.”

“But I'm not overestimating you.” Mitch grinned. “You know they're intimidated by the Caine name. And you can flatten anybody with that superior look of yours. Just use it.”

Simon Richie charged into the hall then, filled with an energy that never ceased to amaze Mitch. Simon had to be close to sixty, but nothing slowed him down when it came to taking care of his flock. If either Tina or her roommate had left an address, Simon would find it.

“I'm going to try and catch him after he says the blessing,” Mitch said. “Remember, keep your eye on Anne.”

Alex sketched him a mock salute. “Will do.”

He bowed his head and tried to concentrate on the words of the prayer. Simon had an informal way of addressing God that made Him sound like a personal friend Simon was inviting to share their meal. It always made him vaguely uncomfortable. Mitch believed, of course. But Simon seemed to have found a closeness that had always eluded Mitch.

The prayer over, a wave of people swept toward the long serving table. Anne still stood at her chair, eyes closed in prayer for another moment. The sight seemed to clutch his heart. What prayer kept her so still, so focused?

Anne gripped the plate Kate had given her and edged closer to the serving table. Kate had insisted on watching Emilie so she could go first, since Mitch seemed to have disappeared. She'd noticed him talking to a man Kate said was Alex Caine, owner of Bedford Creek's only industry. The next time she looked, he was gone.

Not that she cared. The memory of that moment in Kate's front hall made her uncomfortable. She hadn't come to this dinner to be with Mitch.

“I don't think we've met.” The woman in front of her smiled a welcome. “Let me introduce you to some of these hungry people.”

By the time she'd reached the end of the buffet table, half-a-dozen names buzzed in her mind and way too much food had found its way onto her plate. She'd begun to feel that all she'd done since arriving in Bedford Creek was eat.

“I'm finished.” She deposited her plate across from Kate, next to the high chair Mitch had put at the end of the table. “You go on now, Kate.”

Kate rose and looked around the crowded room with a frown. “I don't know where Mitch is. He'd better get back here before the food's gone.”

“I don't think there's any danger of that.” And she'd probably have a more placid meal if he weren't sitting next to her, drawing her awareness with every breath.

She'd just given Emilie a biscuit to chew on when
she became conscious of someone standing across from her. She looked up to meet an intent stare.

The older woman's narrow face formed a brief smile. “You'll be Kate's new guest.”

Anne nodded. “Anne Morden. This is Emilie.”

“I'm Enid Lawrence.” The woman's gaze swerved, sharply curious, to the baby and back again. “Tell me, what brings you to Bedford Creek?”

Anne should have been better prepared for a direct question, she thought. As she groped for an answer, someone intervened.

“Excuse me, Enid.” It was the man she'd seen Mitch talking with earlier. “I think your daughter is trying to get your attention.” He diverted the woman smoothly away from the table, taking the chair she'd been blocking. “I'll keep Anne company until Kate gets back.”

Enid Lawrence frowned. For a moment Anne thought she'd argue, but then she nodded, giving Anne a frosted look. “We'll talk later.” It almost sounded like a threat.

She moved away, and Anne assessed Mitch's friend, Alex Caine. He was tall, nearly as tall as Mitch, but not as broadly built. His lean, aristocratic face was handsome, but marred by a scar that ran along one cheek. He had the inward look Anne had seen before in people who lived with pain.

“Alex Caine.” He held out his hand. “Sorry if I
interrupted, but Enid can be overwhelming at times. ‘Curiosity' is her middle name.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Did Mitch suggest I needed protecting?”

She caught a flash of surprise mixed with amusement in his dark eyes. “You caught us, I'm afraid. Mitch thought you might prefer not to explain why you're here too many times tonight.”

Now it was her turn to be surprised. “Mitch told you?” She'd have expected him to guard that information more carefully.

“Mitch and I go back a long way. He doesn't keep many secrets from me. Or from Brett.”

“I see.”

He frowned. “I'm not sure you do. I know Mitch as well as I know anyone. He tells me he didn't—” He stopped, probably reminded of the number of people in the room. “Let's just say I'd trust him with my life.” Some emotion she couldn't identify flickered in his eyes. “In fact, I already have.”

A dozen questions bubbled to her tongue, but she didn't have a chance to ask any of them. Kate came back, and in the flurry as she settled, Alex excused himself. The next instant, someone slid into the chair next to her. She didn't need to look to know it was Mitch. That aura of solid strength touched her senses.

He brushed her sleeve. She looked, startled, to find he was handing her a slip of paper.

“What's this?” She started to unfold it, but his hand closed over hers.

“It's that information you wanted—”

His fingers tightened a little, and her skin seemed to tingle from their pressure.

“—the latest address and phone number Pastor Richie could find. I had him jot it down for you.”

She looked at the address, somewhere in Florida, written in an unfamiliar hand on church stationery. She folded the paper and slipped it in her bag.

“I didn't expect you to do that. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “No ulterior motives, I promise you. I just thought it would cause less comment if I asked. I hope you find her.”

Perhaps he didn't expect her to believe that, but it sounded genuine. He'd given the information to her, rather than following up on it himself. Almost as if they could trust each other.

Careful,
her lawyer's mind cautioned.
Look at all the evidence, then make a decision.

She'd like, just this once, to rely on her instinct, the instinct that said he was telling the truth. That he could be trusted.

Unfortunately she couldn't. Not with Emilie's future at stake.

Anne rolled the stroller through the police station doorway, the memory of the last time she'd done that flickering through her mind. Only a few days
ago, but it seemed like a lifetime. Odd, that she'd begun to feel at home in Bedford Creek so quickly, almost as if it had been waiting for her.

“Ms. Morden!” Wanda exclaimed. “Look who's here, Chief.”

Mitch stood in the doorway to his office, ushering someone inside. He swung around at Wanda's words. Anne wasn't mistaking the warmth in his eyes at the sight of her, was she?

“Anne. I hoped I'd see you today.” He sent a glance toward his office. “Trouble is, I have someone here right now. Can you wait?”

Aware of Wanda's sharp eyes dissecting every gesture, Anne nodded. “Actually, I have a couple of errands to run. Why don't I come back in, say, half an hour.”

“Sounds good.” He reached past her to hold the door for the stroller, and his hand brushed her shoulder. “I'll see you then.”

She pushed the stroller up the sidewalk, still feeling that casual touch. When the number Pastor Richie had passed on proved no longer valid, directory assistance and even the pastor had been unable to help her further. She had no choice but to ask Mitch for his help in tracking down Marcy Brown. But now she wondered if she'd made the right decision in bringing this to him. Everything Mitch had done was consistent with his being an honorable man who was telling her the truth. But could she rely on him to trace Tina's roommate?

The street staggered its way up the hill, and by the time she reached the pharmacy she was winded. She purchased shampoo and a teething ring, then glanced at her watch as she went out the door. Another fifteen minutes before Mitch expected her.

Someone had placed a bright yellow bench outside the pharmacy, probably for the convenience of all those tourists everyone assured her showed up in the summer. She sat down, positioning the stroller so the baby was out of the wind. The weak sunshine touched her cheeks, a promise of summer to come. A fat robin, back from his trip south, perched on the edge of a sidewalk planter and cocked his head.

A shadow fell across her. “Ms. Morden.”

She looked up at the woman who'd introduced herself at the church supper the night before—the woman Alex had seemed determined to help her avoid. Her mind scrambled briefly, then came up with a name.

“Mrs. Lawrence. It's nice to see you again.” Or was it? Alex had steered the woman off, implying she was a gossip, and that avid look in her eyes seemed to confirm it.

“I hoped I'd run into you.” The woman perched on the bench next to her, tucking her brown wool coat around her legs. “We didn't have a chance to get acquainted last night. I'm Enid.”

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