Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart #1) (2 page)

Ned nodded. “Gonna check out our newest resident?”

“Yeah. Hopefully she’ll be easier to deal with than young Joe.”

“Probably didn’t have bus fare to Seattle.”

“You’re probably right. But I’m just going to make sure.”

Six days in Wyattville, and life had already settled into a routine. Every morning, Maureen rose at five, kissed her sleeping daughter goodbye, and headed downtown to Lynn’s Cafe, where she worked the breakfast and lunch shift.

The mornings passed quickly. A slow but steady stream of customers kept both Maureen and Lynn busy. By nine, the rush ended, and Maureen would take a few minutes to call Katie. Usually she would be finishing breakfast while Rita fussed over her. Then, after Maureen’s call, Rita would deliver Katie to the babysitter across the street, where she would stay until her mother got off work at two.

For the hundredth time since arriving in Wyattville, Maureen thanked God for Rita Ember. The woman was a saint. Just renting them a room would have been enough to earn Maureen’s eternal gratitude, but Rita’s generosity didn’t stop there. She even found a neighbor eager to watch Katie while Maureen worked. Then she helped them settle into their room, finding this and that to make the small space more comfortable.

Maureen closed her eyes and let herself hope—for just a moment—that maybe she’d found a place where she and Katie could stay. It was so quiet here, so remote. Who would ever think to look for her in this place, a little speck of a town on the eastern slopes of the Washington Cascade mountains?

“Hey, Lynn, what have you got for a hungry man this morning?”

The rough male voice, followed by the slam of the front door, shattered Maureen’s thoughts. She looked toward the commotion and her stomach took a sudden turn.

Lynn grinned and slipped an arm around a trim male waist in a law enforcement uniform. “Well now,” she said, “that depends on just what that man was hungry for.”

The man’s smile broadened, and he gave Lynn a quick squeeze. “How about a couple eggs, over easy, and a plateful of that ham you keep back there. And plenty of coffee.”

Lynn reached up and pinched his cheek. “You got it, handsome.” Laughing, she released him and headed for the kitchen.

Only then could Maureen move. With trembling hands, she turned back to her work, telling herself there was nothing to worry about. So the man was a police officer. Towns everywhere had them. She had to stop panicking every time she saw one.

Alan lowered himself onto the stool closest to the door and dropped his hat on the counter. He idly passed a hand through his hair while glancing around. With a nod or a wave, he acknowledged the other people in the café. Friends or neighbors all, he knew every face but one. Lynn returned, and he gratefully accepted the coffee she set in front of him.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he said with a wink. As always, she returned his smile with one of her own before moving on to other things.

Relishing his first sip, he let his gaze wander to the booths lining the back wall of the restaurant. The woman he’d come to see—the one unfamiliar face in the place—cleared dirty dishes from an empty booth.

He watched as she loaded the plastic tray and then leaned over to wipe off the table.

Not much to look at was his first thought. Too skinny. Her jeans looked at least a size too big, and an oversize T-shirt hid whatever other feminine attributes she might possess. She looked as though she could use a good meal or two.

Lynn interrupted his thoughts with a plate of ham and eggs, cooked just the way he liked them. He smiled in appreciation, not only at the breakfast but at Lynn’s lush curves.
Now that was the way a woman should be built
, he thought. Soft and round.

He’d explored Lynn’s curves a time or two—years ago. For a while, when they were in high school, the two of them had been an item. Lots of people had assumed they’d eventually marry. Then he’d gone off to Seattle, and when he’d come back, well, things just weren’t the same. Still, between him and Lynn, there would always be something special.

As soon as she left, Alan’s gaze roamed back to the other woman. She was a drifter, all right. She wore her dark hair short, and her skin was pale as snow. He wondered why she’d decided to stop in Wyattville. Probably, as Ned suggested, she’d run out of money. It was just like Rita Ember to take in a stray, especially one with a child.

Yet, as he watched her, something didn’t fit. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was wrong. The answer was there, just out of reach, nudging at his mind.
What was it?
With an inward shrug, he pushed the thought aside. He knew better than to try to force it. The answer would come to him—eventually.

Maureen felt his gaze on her. For the past half-hour, as he’d finished off the huge breakfast Jill brought him, he’d watched her. He’d spoken to everyone else in the place, flirting with the women, talking crops or hunting with the men. But he
watched
her.

She avoided him, taking care of other customers, wishing she could fade into the surroundings.

Maybe she’d made a mistake stopping in a small town. It would be easier to disappear in a place where no one knew or cared who their neighbors were. She should have gone on to Seattle, the way she’d planned. If only it hadn’t been so pretty the day she and Katie got off the bus here, with all the apple trees in bloom. They’d been traveling for more than three months, never staying anywhere for more than a couple of weeks. Maureen was tired and Katie cranky. They ate lunch at Lynn’s, and Maureen saw the Help Wanted sign. It seemed like fate. Now she wasn’t so sure.

The morning crowd began to thin out, but not him. Maureen wanted to call Rita and talk to Katie. She needed to hear her daughter’s voice. She needed to hear it desperately. Not yet, she told herself. Another fifteen minutes.

Why didn’t he leave?

Then he lifted his empty coffee cup in her direction, and there was no escape. Fighting the urge to turn and look for Lynn, Maureen picked up a full pot of coffee and headed toward him.

“New in town,” he said, watching the steaming black coffee she poured into his cup.

“Yes,” she answered, willing an unfelt calmness to her voice.

He picked up the sugar dispenser and sweetened his coffee. “Planning to stay awhile?”

Maureen shrugged, remembering the carefully practiced script she’d worked out for questions such as this. “That depends.”

He looked at her closely then, straight and hard, his fathomless dark eyes seeking answers. She knew then she’d made a mistake. No, two mistakes. The first was thinking she and Katie would be safe in Wyattville. The second was in her evaluation of this man. This was no small-town, bumbling idiot of a sheriff—although why she’d ever thought this would be true escaped her. Nor was he the vacuous pretty boy she’d suspected when he’d waltzed into the diner, winking and flirting with Lynn. Intelligence lurked in his eyes. And danger. A danger that went far beyond what his badge threatened.

A needle of fear pricked her spine, chilling her. She wanted to run, but she knew that would be a mistake. She held firm, instinct telling her that the worst thing to do when confronted with a predator was to flee.

Then he smiled and lifted his cup to his lips. “Where are you from, sweet thing?”

Maureen couldn’t answer. Not at first. As quickly as she’d been struck by the cunning in his eyes, it had vanished. With a smile, a wink, and a chauvinistic endearment, he’d hidden it. But the threat lingered. She wouldn’t allow herself to think she’d imagined it. She suspected he didn’t like people to see too much.

“Chicago,” she answered finally, easily, knowing she, too, wasn’t what she seemed. And she had far better reasons than this man to keep her identity hidden. But she couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice as she added, “And my name’s Maureen.” She paused, smiling to soften her words. “Maureen Adams. And you, Officer?”

He returned the coffee cup to its saucer, and his smile broadened. “Alan Parks, Wyattville sheriff, at your service.”

“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” Nodding, she started to turn away.

“Hear you rented a room from Rita Ember.”

Maureen stopped and turned, trying out a carefully constructed smile, though her stomach churned. “I guess news really does travel fast in a small town.”

“Yup.”

“Mrs. Ember is a very nice lady. It was kind of her to rent one of her rooms to my daughter and me.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes.” Maureen held her smile with an effort. “Katie. She’s three.”

He picked up his cup again and took another sip. “Depends on what?”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. What?” she said, feigning ignorance.

“You said how long you stay depends. Depends on what?”

“Oh.” Maureen shrugged again and lowered her eyes to the coffeepot in her hands. “Well, you know, on how things work out.”

When she raised her gaze back to his, she saw the danger again. At that moment, she would have sworn he knew everything about her. She mentally shook herself. She was being foolish. This was just a small-town sheriff checking out a stranger.

She launched into the script she’d prepared. “I lost my husband recently …”
The truth,
she told herself.
Stick to the truth as much as possible.
“I just needed to get away.” She shrugged again, feeling more confident. “I was headed for Seattle, but your town charmed me.” She smiled shyly, realizing she could pull this off. After all, everything she’d said so far was true.

Alan heard her answers but paid little attention to the words. It was her eyes he watched. A person could say anything, but their eyes, well, they seldom lied.

Besides, this woman had the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen. They were soft blue, the color of spring wildflowers. They seemed out of place with the rest of her—the dark, lifeless hair, the … no, just the hair was wrong. Her skin was pale, flawlessly pale, like fine porcelain, while her thinness added an air of delicacy. Just the hair was wrong, and something else he couldn’t quite get a handle on. Something …

“Sorry about your husband,” he said, watching her more closely, trying to make all the pieces fit.

He saw her pain briefly before she looked away. She acknowledged his sympathy with a nod but said nothing. An awkward moment passed, and Alan knew she’d spoken the truth, at least about this.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “it sounds like you’re looking for a place to settle down.”

She shifted uneasily. “I can’t say, Sheriff. Maybe.”

“Well …” Alan leaned back on his stool and pushed his empty coffee cup away. “Wyattville’s nothing like Chicago, but it’s a nice town. Quiet. You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.” She met his gaze. “That’s one of the things I like about it.”

“Good.” Alan searched for something else to say, something to keep her talking.

“Well, it was nice talking with you, Sheriff,” she said, “but I need to get back to work.”

“Sure. Go ahead. I’m sure we’ll get a chance to talk again.” He nodded and let her go.

As she walked away, it hit him. The way she moved. That was the other piece that didn’t fit, the point nipping at the edge of his mind since he’d first seen her. Her movements were graceful, almost elegant, like a dancer’s. Every gesture, every step indicated this woman knew how to handle herself. There was nothing lost or downtrodden about her. Instead, she possessed an understated confidence. Drifters didn’t move like that.

Things were not what they seemed with Maureen Adams. And, instead of all the pieces falling into place the way they should, they seemed more scattered than ever. It looked as if he needed to get to know her a little better. She was running from something, and he wanted to know what. After all, the woman was a puzzle, and he didn’t like puzzles—at least not in his town.

Jacob Anderson’s office was cold. Like the frigid Chicago wind. Like the man. Cooper hated the office and figured he probably felt the same way about the man. If he had to guess, he’d say Anderson wasn’t too crazy about him, either. But, the money was good, and he, Sam Cooper, was the best at what he did. So they tolerated each other.