by Cindy Dees
“I’m working the night shift tonight.”
“Then shouldn’t you be out solving crimes?”
He was. He wanted to know why someone was watching her and had been lurking around her house. Were the two related?
“Tell me about where you live here in town,” he said casually.
“You saw it. Pretty street. Quiet. Lots of young families. Chloe will have plenty of kids her age to play with.”
“Fox was disappointed when you left the Crooked C. He liked having you and Chloe out there.”
She shrugged. “It was sweet of the gang out there to let us crash with them while I got my bearings and made some decisions. But Fox is a bachelor. He didn’t need Chloe and me hanging around getting in the way.”
“Why did you choose not to live with your parents? Goodness knows, they’ve got plenty of room in that house of theirs.”
“You mean the mausoleum?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You didn’t live there,” she retorted.
“I spent a lot of time there with Fox.”
“Then you know that Russ and Mara were never at home.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear they had an ongoing contest going to see who could be more of a workaholic.”
“What about you? Did you grow up into a workaholic like them? You were one in high school, as I recall.”
“I just wanted to get into a good college so I could get away and be on my own.”
“Did you escape whatever you were running from?” he asked quietly.
She glanced up at him, her big hazel eyes dark and troubled. “You must be a heck of an interrogator, Liam. You cut right to the heart of the matter. You’re like a laser.”
“That’s me. Laser Man,” he quipped. “I cut away the lies and obfuscations to expose the naked truth. It’s my superpower. What’s yours?”
“These days, it’s making grilled cheese sandwiches and knowing the lyrics to every single princess musical ever made.”
“What about before Chloe came along?”
“There was life before Chloe?” she asked wryly.
He laughed. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Don’t get me wrong. She’s the light of my life. I didn’t know it was possible to love anyone the way I love her.”
“That’s obvious at a single glance. The way you look at her...” He searched for words. “It’s magical.”
Sloane shrugged. “I’m just a mom.”
“You’re a great mom.”
Sloane snorted. “And yet, my baby is in a hospital room fighting some awful illness that I should have seen coming. I had to have missed something—”
“You can’t control every situation every time. Sometimes life sneaks up on you.”
She snorted like a prizefighter who’d just been told she couldn’t use her fists in a fight.
He frowned and turned the corner into the cafeteria. “How were you supposed to know she would catch a nasty bug? Psychic powers? You’re being too hard on yourself. Chloe got sick and you got her to medical care in a timely fashion. There was nothing else you could have done.”
“Keep telling me that. Maybe I’ll believe you someday.”
He stopped and turned to face her. “I’m serious, Sloane. Cut yourself a break. Your little girl needs you to be calm and confident, not wracked by unnecessary guilt and distraction.”
Sloane took a deep breath. Exhaled it slowly. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“No problem. I just call it as I see it.”
She glanced up at him shyly and smiled. And lit up the whole darned cafeteria. Her smile transformed her heart-shaped face from pretty to radiant. Her gorgeous hazel eyes filled with warmth and gratitude.
“There it is,” he murmured. “The old Sloane Colton sparkle. Thought I’d lost you there for a while.”
“I’m still plain old me. Just a little older and hopefully a little wiser.”
He chuckled. “You were never plain. Do you have any idea how many guys Fox and I had to chase away from you?”
Her voice took on a stern tone. “No. I don’t. Do enlighten me.”
He grinned. “I’ll never tell. Just trust me...none of them were worthy of you.”
She planted her hands on her hips in what looked like indignation. “I thought I was a completely unattractive dork in high school because no guy would even look at me, let alone talk to me, or heaven forbid, ask me out. And you’re telling me that was your and Fox’s doing?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I’ll kill him. Next time I see him, I’m doing him in.”
Liam grinned. “Cut him a little slack. He loves you a lot. Thinks you walk on water.”
“That, I definitely don’t do.”
Sadness overtook her entire demeanor. What had happened to leave so much pain in her soul? Just how big a jerk had the ex-husband been?
“Tell me about how you acquired wisdom en route to becoming older and wiser,” Liam asked, resuming their walk down a hallway lined on one side with windows that looked out on a garden. Right now, it was bare beds of dirt covered in patches of snow. Sloane shivered a little, probably from the cold radiating off the windows.
An urge to put his arm around her shoulders, to draw her close to his side, nearly overcame him. Nope, nope, nope. Not going there with her.
“I married a charming man who turned out to be a bastard.”
“How so?”
“Let’s just say he was honesty-challenged.”
“Example?”
She thought for a second. “Well, he said he liked kids. Wanted a family. Turned out he liked the idea of a family Christmas card in matching bad sweaters but not much more.”
“That sucks.”
“Oh, that’s not the worst of it. Turns out he can’t resist any hot female who looks at him twice, and he’s a compulsive gambler. Real winner I picked, huh?”
Liam shrugged. “I’m sure he had a few redeeming qualities that drew you to him.”
“You’re far too optimistic about mankind in general.”
It was his turn to snort. “I’m a cop. I see all the worst mankind has to offer. In fact, I find that most people harbor at least one good, ugly secret about themselves.”
“Oh, yeah?” Slone asked. “What’s yours?”
“I’m actually a superhero, but I can’t reveal my true identity to anyone. I keep my cape hidden under my street clothes.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re Laser Man. I forgot.”
“That’s me, all right.”
Sloane winced a little. “Where were you when I started dating Ivan? I was completely fooled by him.”
“Sorry. I would’ve come to Denver and chased him off if Fox had let me know you were dating a jerk. Just like in high school.”
“Is that why you tormented the boys who flirted with me?” she exclaimed. “Fox put you up to it? I’m seriously going to have to have a word with him—”
He interrupted, laughing. “I swear, we had your best interests at heart. We heard them talking in the locker room and knew they wouldn’t treat you well.”
“What gave you the right to be my personal dating police?”
She didn’t sound angry, but he sensed danger in the lightly worded question. She wasn’t a defense attorney for nothing. He answered carefully, “You were my best friend’s little sister, and Fox had a bit of a temper back then. I was worried he would go too far protecting you and get himself into trouble.”
“Ahh. So you didn’t care about me. It was all about looking out for Fox. Got it.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, but he wasn’t sure he ought to correct the misunderstanding. This Sloane was pricklier and quicker to jump on statements he made than the Sloane of old.
“Do you like being a lawyer?”
he asked her, hoping to change the subject.
“I do.”
He could see how it fit her direct personality. “Are you going to hang out a shingle here in Roaring Springs?”
“I’ve actually just started up a nonprofit foundation with some of the proceeds of my divorce. I’m reviewing cases for prisoners who think they were wrongly convicted.” She warmed to her topic. “I can work from home and do some good while I’m at it.”
Her face glowed with excitement as she described having found a big mistake in a case she’d just reviewed. A wrongly convicted woman was due to be released from prison in a few days because of her discovery.
Sloane always had been softhearted. Loved to help people. Looked out for the downtrodden.
“And who looks out for you?” he mused aloud.
“I beg your pardon?”
Startled, he realized he’d voiced the thought aloud. “Nothing. Just random thoughts.” Badly in need of a distraction, he commented, “Mara must love having her first grandchild back in Roaring Springs.”
Sloane shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, sure, Mara loves Chloe, but she’s not exactly the most maternal person I’ve ever met.”
“True.” Not like his mother, who was warm and nurturing. Fox always had preferred to hang out at the modest Kastor bungalow rather than at his own family’s luxurious estate. As for him, he’d liked the Colton mansion for its elegance and proximity to the ski slopes. And to Sloane.
“So. Does a defense attorney make enemies in the course of her job?” Liam risked asking.
Sloane frowned. “That’s a strange question.”
He shrugged. “I figure your clients would like you because you’re fighting for them.”
“They do, unless they’re guilty and want me to pull a miracle out of my hat and get them off. As a defense attorney, it was my job to give them the best possible legal defense, not hoodwink juries and pull television tricks to magically sway jurors to release a guilty person who’s been properly tried.”
He nodded ruefully. “Television gives people a distorted view of police work, too. They think I can solve any crime in forty-eight minutes between commercial breaks.”
“Is there much crime in Roaring Springs these days?” she asked curiously.
“Not nearly enough.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He glanced down at her. “Don’t get me wrong. Low crime is great for the residents. But as a detective, it can be a bit...boring.”
“What about that grisly murder a few weeks ago? I am so glad that Wyatt’s name was cleared.”
He nodded. “County sheriff’s office investigated it. Did a good job, too.”
“Poor baby,” she teased him. “You didn’t get to take part in any of that, did you? I can’t say as I wish for another murder to keep you occupied.”
He grimaced. “Me, neither. I’ll keep consoling myself with reading forensic investigation books.”
“Sherlock Holmes mysteries don’t count,” she deadpanned.
She remembered that he’d read all the Sherlock Holmes books over and over in high school? Wow. That was a pretty obscure detail to recall. Surely she hadn’t actually noticed him in that way back then—
Nah. No way. She’d barely known he existed. She wouldn’t know he existed now if she hadn’t physically run into him earlier.
He sighed. Better to keep things friendly and professional. Speaking of which... As tempted as he was to ask her if she had a security system installed in her house, he refrained. She was a lawyer, and she would sense a motive behind his question. And as sure as she was standing there, she would dig at him until she found out why he’d asked. Better to avoid the subject completely for the moment. Besides. He had a starting place. The rotten ex-husband.
“I have a favor to ask of you, Liam. I hate to ask because you’ve already done so much for me—”
“Anything,” he interrupted. “Ask it.”
“Would you mind terribly bringing me some more clothes? The nurses are telling me it could be a few days before Chloe is released.”
Perfect. It would give him an excuse to go into Sloane’s house again and investigate further. “Of course, I’ll swing by and pick up whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
The shy note that entered her voice was nearly his undoing. Who’d have guessed that a strong, smart, together woman would have such a hard time asking for a small thing?
They turned into the hallway where Chloe’s hospital room was, and he felt her attention rivet on her daughter’s well-being once more. He walked silently beside her to Chloe’s door.
“Get some sleep, Sloane. Chloe’s going to wake up in the morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and you’ll need to be on your mommy A-game.”
“Lord, I hope so.”
On impulse, he drew Sloane into a hug. She was warm and soft, and that bergamot and orange scent clung to her. She was all at once familiar and foreign to him. A woman had taken over the teenager he’d once known so well.
She hugged him back, her cheek warm against his chest, clinging tightly to his waist for an instant, as if he was her only lifeline, before letting go.
He took the cue and released her, stepping back to a safe distance. “I’ll say a prayer for Chloe tonight.”
Chapter 3
Dawn broke through the windows of the hospital room, and Sloane gave up trying to sleep. In the past hour, Chloe’s fever had inched down slightly, but Little Bug was starting to vomit. Sloane sat by the crib with the side lowered, and Chloe curled around Sloane’s hand pitifully, clinging to it tightly.
Sloane’s heart broke to see her daughter suffering like this. Thankfully, the doctor came in a little before 8:00 a.m. to check on Chloe.
“She’s doing worse,” Sloane murmured to him.
“Actually, vomiting is the next stage of the infection, so she’s progressing through the illness,” the doctor replied.
“Does that mean she’s getting better?” Sloane asked hopefully.
“If this progresses like it has in the other children, the last stage will involve chest congestion, and that will actually be the most...delicate...time.”
Sloane frowned. Delicate wasn’t the word he’d been on the verge of saying. Ten to one he’d been about to say critical. “There has to be something more we can do for her, doctor.”
“We’re monitoring her closely. We’re pumping fluids, nutrition and massive antibiotics into her to take the load off her immune system. All we can do in the case of a virus like this is provide palliative support, meaning we can only treat the symptoms.”
“Aren’t there any specific antiviral drugs you can give her?”
“Not that have had any efficacy on this particular strain of virus,” he answered.
“Is this some sort of flu?”
“Although it looks like a flu, Chloe tested negative for influenza. It’s something else with similar symptoms. Just be patient and let this run its course, Mrs. Durant.”
“Colton. I’m not keeping my ex-husband’s name.”
“Sorry. A Colton, huh?”
She winced as the doctor looked at her speculatively and then beat a quick exit. An orderly brought her a tray of breakfast, and she nibbled on a piece of toast without any appetite. She downed the glass of orange juice but ignored the oatmeal. A nurse had no sooner pushed out the breakfast tray than Mara Colton swept into Chloe’s room.
Rats. The doctor had betrayed her and called the matriarch of the Colton clan.
“Sloane, dear, why didn’t you call me last night? We could have had a specialist down from Denver by now to look at our sweet girl. How is she?”
Chloe, who’d recently drifted off to sleep after throwing up, stirred and whimpered. Sloane waved her mother out of the room and leaned over Chloe quickly, kissing her hot forehead
, and murmuring against her daughter’s skin how much she loved her and to dream about angels.
Chloe settled, and her eyes drifted closed once more. Gently, Sloane disengaged her hand from the child’s grasp, placing Snuffles, Chloe’s beloved plush elephant, into her daughter’s arms. God. She looked so tiny and vulnerable curled up in the middle of all those wires and tubes.
Sloane hurried from the room, fighting back the tears. She had to be strong for her baby. She was a tough, independent woman. She could do this.
“How are you holding up, dear?”
Mara might not be the most maternal person in the world, but even this brief show of concern was enough to strain Sloane’s steely self-control. She would not break down, darn it!
She took a deep breath. Lawyers never cried in court. This was just like that. She took note of the nurses and orderlies nearby, a doctor walking down the hall, a visitor looking for a room number. She was in public. She was a professional.
Her years of courtroom experience kicked in, and her emotions steadied. Receded.
Better.
She heard her own voice answer, “I’m fine, thanks, Mother. Worried, of course. But Chloe’s getting excellent care. They’re monitoring her closely and have seen this virus before. They know what to expect.”
Liar, liar. Pants on fire. She was a wreck and to say otherwise was blatantly untrue.
“Have you eaten, dear?”
“I just had some breakfast,” she replied.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Sloane stepped forward on impulse and gave her mother a hug. Mara stiffened in surprise for a moment, then returned the hug briefly before backing away and straightening her suit.
“I never knew being a mother was so scary. How did you survive raising five of your own kids plus Fox and me?”
“I raised seven of my own kids. You and Fox are as much mine as any of the others. And it was a trial at times.”
“Weren’t you scared that something awful would happen to one of us?”
Mara smiled gently, real warmth and understanding glimmering in her blue eyes. “Always. Terror is the constant state of being a mother.”