Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart #1) (5 page)

She took a deep breath and braced herself against the sudden rush of tears once again threatening to fall. Without another word, she turned and headed upstairs. Not only could she and Katie not afford to want him, they couldn’t afford to have him making promises he wouldn’t or couldn’t keep. Promises for a future that could never be. Promises that would break their hearts. Again.

K
atie went down easily. Within minutes of playing horsey with Alan, she’d snuggled into the big four-poster bed and fallen fast asleep. Maureen watched her for a moment, amazed as always at how quickly she switched gears. One minute she would be wild and rowdy, then the next she would be sleeping like an angel. Maureen guessed it was just part of being three years old.

She pulled a chair over to the open window and sighed. She wasn’t as fortunate as her daughter. She couldn’t shift gears so easily. Turning on a small lamp, she hoped a good book would take her mind off the evening’s events. Maybe then, she, too, would be able to sleep.

Unfortunately, she found no solace in reading. The book didn’t hold her interest, and she ended up staring out the window, unable to make sense of the thoughts scurrying through her head.

So much had happened in the last year. Starting with David’s death, her life had moved steadily from orderly and predictable to chaotic. She had tried to put things right, but everything she attempted backfired. Now here she was, a thousand miles from home, drawn to a man who could only make matters worse.

Leaning her head against the back of the chair, she tried pushing the confusion aside. She needed to understand and deal with things in a logical manner. All her life she’d been strong, a woman who took control, a woman used to being able to handle things. Others looked up to her. She was calm, collected, and sturdy.

A lone tear slid down her face, and she brushed it aside, irritated at her own weakness. She was none of those things any longer. Her strength was gone, depleted by the events of the last year. There was nothing calm or collected about her. There was no control left.

Suddenly, the walls pressed in on her, and she needed to get out of the room before she suffocated. Abandoning the chair, she grabbed a sweater and fled. She left the bedroom door slightly ajar and headed down the back stairs. Maybe the night air would clear her head.

As she stepped out onto the back porch, her hopes of being able to think clearly vanished. She was not alone. Alan sat on the top step, his back against the rail, one leg bent, the other stretched out to rest on a lower step.

Her first reaction was to turn and run back upstairs, back to the safety of her room. After all, she’d come outside to escape her disturbing thoughts of this man. Just as she turned to go, something stopped her. Whether it was her survival instinct or just curiosity, she didn’t know, but a surge of resentment sliced through her, making her bold.

She and Katie had been through enough. Now this man, this small-town lawman with his questions and cocky smile, threatened to make things worse. Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen. She wanted to know just how much Alan Parks knew or suspected about her and Katie. And if he suspected nothing, then it was time he left them alone.

At least that’s what she told herself as she moved to the railing opposite the one he leaned against.

“Nice night,” he said. “Summer’s come early this year.”

“Mmm.” Maureen nodded and pulled her sweater tight around her. To her it seemed a bit chilly, like a cool winter evening in South Florida.

“I don’t know how May is where you’re from—Chicago, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“But …” Looking up at her, he shifted sideways and patted the step. “Come on, sit down.”

She hesitated, thinking this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Where was all her bravado of a few minutes ago? “I’m really tired, Sheriff. I just needed a little fresh air.”

Reaching up, Alan took her hand and coaxed her down next to him. “Just for a few minutes. And I thought we’d dispensed with that ‘sheriff’ stuff.”

Maureen sat, keeping herself as far from him as possible on the narrow steps. Still, he was too close. She could feel the heat from his body like a tangible thing, while the smell of his aftershave, subtle and all male, assaulted her senses.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

She turned to look at him, and he smiled, a slow, lazy smile. In the dark, his face was all shadows and angles, his eyes dark and unreadable, but his smile … she would have recognized the predator in that smile with her eyes closed.

“Don’t you?”

The smile faded. “Only when provoked.”

“I see.” She shifted again, moving closer to the rail, away from the heat of his leg, away from the threat of that smile. “Then I’ll be sure not to provoke you.”

Alan chuckled and leaned back, resting his elbows on the porch. “Your daughter’s a charmer.”

Maureen’s thoughts shifted to Katie and she smiled despite herself. “Yes, she is.”

“A real cutie.”

“Mmm.” She relaxed a bit. It was true, Katie charmed everyone around her.

“Kids have so much energy. It always amazes me.”

Maureen chuckled, thinking how well she understood. “It was nice of you to entertain her.”

They sat quietly for a moment, the night enfolding them. Maureen let her thoughts drift, the sweet silence soothing her. She’d never lived in a place like this, where you could smell the rich scent of pine while gazing at a million stars overhead. How strange that fate had brought her here under these circumstances. Why had she never thought to come somewhere like this before, where you could sit on a porch in the evening and be content?

“She must resemble her father.”

“What?” His words cut into her thoughts, bringing her sharply back to the present—and the man sitting next to her.

“Katie.” Alan pulled his legs up and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Her coloring is nothing like yours. I thought she must take after her father.”

Irritation replaced her momentary feelings of contentment. Probing. He constantly probed. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? And what could she tell him that would appease his curiosity? She thought of David and his blond, all-American good looks. No. Katie didn’t look like David. She didn’t look like either of them. But it wasn’t a question she could refuse to answer. Not without arousing Alan’s curiosity even further.

“Yes,” she finally answered, her first real lie bitter on her tongue. “A lot of people thought she looked like David.”

“Was he Latin?”

An image appeared in Maureen’s mind of a small dark woman-child with great brown eyes—so like Katie’s—and a soft melodic voice. “Yes,” she said, the words like ashes in her mouth. “Her father was Latin.”

Alan nodded as if satisfied, for the moment anyway, and went back to studying the darkness. Then he asked, “How did he die?”

With a sigh, Maureen hesitated. Strange that the memory of David’s death brought no pain, merely sadness, like an old wound properly healed.

“If you’d rather not talk about it …”

“No, that’s okay.” David was a safe subject. She could talk about him. It would keep Alan from asking other questions that she’d find more difficult to answer. “It was a car accident. He’d been out with clients. It was late …”

“Drinking?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t the alcohol. We were having problems.” She hesitated again, wondering how much to tell him. “He got home late. We argued, and he stormed out of the house. I think he was sober by then, but angry. Too angry to be driving.”

She stopped, thinking about that night and the way she’d lashed out at David. “Anyway, the next thing I knew, the police were at my door, and David was dead. He drove his car into a canal.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, me too.” She’d been so angry with David, not just that night, but with what he’d become, what he’d been doing to their marriage. But, she had loved him. “I should have tried to stop him. I knew he shouldn’t be driving, but …”

“You didn’t.”

“No. It wouldn’t have done any good, but I should have tried. Actually, at the time, I was glad he left. I was afraid our arguing would wake Katie.” She looked away, feeling the same flush of guilt she always felt when she thought of those last moments with her husband.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

She looked at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern. “I don’t really.”

Sighing again, she pushed her hair away from her face and leaned back against the porch. Why was she telling him all this? She thought of Katie and reminded herself it was easier to speak of David than of other things. Besides, it felt good to finally talk to someone about it.

They sat quietly for a moment, Maureen thinking how strange it was that she had chosen Alan to tell about David’s death. She’d never told anyone before. Oh, she’d given the police the facts, but she had never told anyone the things she’d just revealed.

“What about Katie?” Alan asked after a few minutes. “How did she take it?”

This, too, saddened her. Katie hardly missed David. At least that’s what Maureen had thought. Until tonight. When Katie had made Alan promise, and it reminded Maureen of all the times David had broken his promises to the two of them.

“She asked about him for a while. She named her favorite stuffed animal after him. But she was only two, and she didn’t know him very well. He was very busy.”

“Too busy for his own daughter?”

She thought she heard anger in his voice, and it surprised her. “Yes, well, that’s part of what we argued about.”

“I see.”

Maureen closed her eyes and nodded, thinking that maybe he did understand—at least about what she’d told him. Of course, she couldn’t tell him about the money, the debts she’d known nothing about until after David’s death. Nor could she tell him about Katie, and the people who wanted to take her away. No, Maureen couldn’t tempt fate by expecting him to understand about that.

Alan watched her as she sat lost in her own thoughts. He hadn’t expected to find so many layers to this woman. Now there was this new side to her. This courage. The whole time she’d talked about her husband, there was a strength in her voice. Her husband’s death, and the circumstances surrounding it, saddened her. But she had dealt with it. She was not the type of woman to fall apart when left without a man.

Once again, he knew this woman was no drifter. So why was she here? What would make her pick up her daughter and leave home, only to end up waiting tables in a town like Wyattville?

“You intrigue me,” he said, shocking himself by saying the words aloud.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised. Then he saw the slight tightening around her mouth, the stiffening of her shoulders.

“I’m just a novelty,” she said, her voice hard and cold. “Someone you haven’t known all your life.”

He thought about that. There might be something in what she said. He’d been back in Wyattville for ten years, and none of the women in town had sparked his interest. Hell, he
had
known most of them all his life. Maybe there was something in the fact she was new in town, but he thought there was more to it. She wasn’t the first unattached stranger to visit Wyattville.

“No,” he said, turning to get a clearer view of her face. “I don’t think that’s it.”

She met his gaze head-on. “It must be my raving beauty, then,” she said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

He reached up and brushed the hair away from her face. It was all wrong. Her hair, short and lifeless, took away from her beauty. His fingers strayed to her temple, the softness of her skin drawing him, pulling him toward her. She trembled ever so slightly, while her eyes softened. “You are lovely, you know.” He realized only as he said it that it was true.

Her eyes widened, making her look even younger, more vulnerable. Then they shut down, closing him out. “I’m not interested,” she said, her voice sounding far-off, shaky.

“Liar.” He whispered the word, but she flinched as if he’d hit her.

Something undefinable sparked in her eyes. “How dare you.” But there was no potency in her words, no conviction.

He shifted on the step, moving closer, one hand slipping behind her while the other wove itself into her hair. He planned to kiss her. When the idea had first entered his mind, he couldn’t say. He told himself he wanted to comfort her, but he knew in a flash that comfort had nothing to do with what he wanted to give her. He only knew he wanted to taste her, to feel her lips under his.

He lowered his mouth to hers, anticipation sparking a deeper yearning … and stopped cold. Her eyes spoke volumes. She desired him, and she was angry about it. But more than anything else, she feared it. Taking a deep breath, he removed his hand from her hair and eased away from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment.

She didn’t answer, and he turned back to look at her. She sat coiled within herself, lost in her own thoughts.

“I guess it’s too soon,” he said, although he didn’t believe that was the problem.

“Yes.”
She nodded without looking at him.

“Well, we have plenty of time.” She glanced at him quickly then, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. “I mean …” He meant to say something to reassure her, but he didn’t know what.