Once they sat down to eat, no one spoke as they filled their plates with the sumptuous meal. Rita had outdone herself. Alan was used to Rita’s Sunday dinners, but tonight could have been Thanksgiving and Christmas combined, considering all the food she’d made. He knew it was because of the woman and child sitting across the table from him. Rita loved having family around, and she’d evidently taken these two in as if they were her own. He was beginning to understand why.
He watched Maureen as she tended her daughter. Her role as a mother suited her. Her devotion to the child was obvious in her every move. Every graceful, confident move, he reminded himself. Once again, he wondered what circumstance had brought them to Wyattville. The thought shook him, reminding him that things weren’t exactly as they seemed with this woman.
“Maureen and Katie are from Chicago,” Rita said, breaking into his thoughts and giving him the perfect opening.
“Yes. She told me.” Alan caught Maureen’s quick glance in his direction. She didn’t like talking about herself. He could read it in her eyes. “What part of Chicago?”
She didn’t answer immediately but finished cutting Katie’s turkey into small bites, then turned and smiled. “Are you familiar with Chicago, Sheriff?”
“Alan.”
“Pardon me?”
“Call me Alan.” He smiled, wondering how hard it would be to break down all those walls she kept throwing up. The question intrigued him. Though, he told himself, it was only because he wanted to know who Maureen Adams really was. “And no, I’ve never been to Chicago.”
“Oh.” She seemed nonplussed for a moment, glancing quickly at Katie before continuing. “Well, I grew up in a neighborhood on the north shore of Lake Michigan. Later, my husband and I moved to Champagne, near the university.”
“Were you in school there?”
“Yes.” She took a bite of her own dinner and turned back to Katie. She fussed over the child for a moment, though it seemed to Alan that Katie was doing fine all by herself.
“Alan went to college, too,” interjected Rita.
“Now, Aunt Rita …” He didn’t want to change the subject. He wanted to keep Maureen talking.
“He graduated at the top of his class,” Rita continued.
“Really.” Maureen turned questioning eyes toward him. “What did you study?”
He frowned at Rita—who only smiled in return—before answering. “Criminology.”
Maureen’s face registered her surprise. “Criminology? How interesting.” She reached for her water glass and took a sip. “Was that a job requirement for becoming sheriff?”
Before he could answer, Rita answered for him. “Of course not. He planned on going to law school.”
“Rita …” Alan put a gentle warning in his voice, knowing as he did that she would ignore it. They’d been through this before, countless times.
“You should have gone.” Rita reached across the table and patted his hand. “You would have made a good lawyer.”
He smiled warmly at her and took her small, birdlike hand in his own. “I’m happy here. Besides, I’m a good sheriff.”
“If you ask me, you’re too hard-nosed,” interjected Millie.
“Hard-nosed?” Alan released Rita’s hand and turned toward Millie.
“I’m talking about that Simmons boy, and how you ousted him from town yesterday.”
“I didn’t oust him from town …” How had the conversation taken such a sharp turn? It seemed to Alan they’d been talking about Maureen. He’d been trying to find out something about her. Now here they were, suddenly talking about his choice of careers and Joey Simmons.
“Sure looked that way to me,” Millie said, addressing Rita. “Took Joey’s keys and had one of the deputies drive the boy home.”
Alan sighed. “Millie, he was driving without a license, and this is not the first time.”
“From what I hear, that boy keeps his family afloat.” Millie still wasn’t talking directly to Alan. “Raising young Tom with no help from his pa. They’d probably all starve otherwise.”
“They wouldn’t starve.”
“I feel so sorry for those boys,” said Rita. “I never did care for their father. And then he married that young girl. Well, I don’t blame her for running off like she did. But leaving those two babies …”
“Everyone feels sorry for them,” said Alan, turning back to his aunt. “But that doesn’t make it right for Joe to break the law.”
“No, but something should be done,” Rita insisted.
Alan understood his aunt’s concern. He’d thought the same thing himself. He wanted to help those boys, especially Joey, before it was too late. But he didn’t know how. Shifting his gaze to Maureen, he realized she’d been following the conversation with interest.
He sighed. “Okay, Rita. If it will make you feel better, I’ll go out and talk to old man Simmons. Other than that, there’s not much I can do. Meanwhile, I doubt if Maureen is interested in Joey and his father.”
“Oh, but I am.” In fact, she looked very pleased to be talking about something other than herself.
Alan ignored her statement. “What about you? What did you study in college?”
She shrugged and once again turned to her daughter. “This and that.”
She was a cool number, Alan thought, hiding behind her daughter and vague answers. He couldn’t remember the last woman he’d met who didn’t welcome the chance to talk about herself. And here he was, trying to get the most insignificant pieces of information from her and getting nowhere. It made him even more determined than ever to find out about her.
Maureen couldn’t wait for dinner to be over. Except for the detour the conversation had taken concerning the Simmons boy, no one would let up on her. Even Rita—in the nicest way possible—seemed intent on knowing her life history.
She kept telling herself that excess curiosity was normal in small towns. However, it wasn’t what she was used to, and it grated on her nerves. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep smiling and answering their questions politely.
The whole ordeal of questions and answers would have been much easier to deal with, however, if it hadn’t been for Alan. Every time she glanced his way, she found him watching her. He made no attempt to hide his interest—he just smiled that lady-killer smile of his and asked another question.
At last, everyone finished eating and escape seemed imminent.
Rita was the first to rise, picking up her plate. “Maureen,” she said, “would you mind helping me?”
“Of course not.” Maureen rose and reached to pull Katie from her chair. “Come on, sweetie. You can play with your blocks in the kitchen while I help Rita clean up.”
“Oh, Alan can watch her,” said Rita. “You don’t mind, do you, Alan?”
“No problem.” Alan circled the table and held out his arms. “Come on, princess. Let’s go into the living room.”
Tension gripped Maureen’s stomach. “Do you want to go with him, Katie?” She didn’t want Alan around her daughter, but unless Katie objected, there was no graceful way out of this situation.
Katie hesitated only a moment before opening her arms to the man in front of her.
In one smooth movement, Alan lifted her to his shoulders and headed for the other room. “Okay, princess. I’m going to teach you how to be a real cowgirl.”
Katie squealed with delight as they bounced out of the room.
Maureen stood for a moment, fighting the urge to go after them. Finally, winning the battle with herself, she turned to clear the table of dirty dishes. It never used to be this way, she thought. When had her obsessive fear of letting Katie out of her sight started? With an armload of dishes, she joined Rita in the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Rita said. “Would you bring in the rest of the dishes while I start washing?”
Maureen nodded and returned to clear the remaining dishes from the table. Of course she knew when the fear had started. It was the day her lawyer had ca
lled.
Closing her eyes, she forcefully pushed the memory aside. It was over. She wasn’t going to dwell on it. Gathering up the remaining dishes from the table, she went back into the kitchen.
“That was a wonderful meal,” Maureen said, trying to dispel her somber mood.
Rita smiled in answer. “Thank you, dear. I do so love Sunday dinners—especially with family around.”
Maureen smiled to herself, understanding the implication of Rita’s words. She considered Maureen and Katie part of her family. Maureen herself felt closer to Rita than she had any right to. After all, they’d only known each other a week.
“What do you think of Alan?” Rita asked after a few moments of silence.
Maureen handed Rita the dishes she carried and picked up a towel to start drying. “He’s nice.”
“Handsome, too. Don’t you think?” Rita’s words were said in an offhand manner, but Maureen knew better.
“Are you matchmaking, Rita?”
Rita glanced sideways at her. “No, I just …” Then she laughed. “You can’t blame me for trying.”
“He’s very good-looking,” Maureen agreed, thinking of how his smile had affected her. “And no, I can’t blame you for trying, but …”
“But?”
“It’s too soon for me.”
“Oh.” Rita smiled in understanding. “Because of your husband.”
Maureen nodded. “And other things.” Like Katie, and the fact he’s a lawman who studied criminology.
They worked together in silence for a while, Rita washing and rinsing, Maureen drying and stacking. They were a good team, Maureen thought. There was an easy camaraderie between them, as if they’d known each other for years.
“He’s not really my nephew, you know,” Rita said, breaking the silence.
“No?” Her announcement didn’t completely surprise Maureen, but she hadn’t expected it, either.
“His mother and I were best friends all our lives. I couldn’t have children and, well, when Alan was born, he was the next best thing to having my own.”
Her own troubles forgotten for the moment, Maureen lifted her gaze to Rita and saw wistfulness in the other woman’s eyes. It was a longing she herself knew well. “I can understand that.”
Rita blushed and turned back to her sinkful of dishes. “Then Alan’s father died, and Renee—his mother—fell apart. After that, Alan spent more time here than he spent at home. He was only ten, and I think it was too much for him to handle.”
Silence fell again, leaving Maureen feeling burdened with this unsolicited glimpse at Alan’s past. She saw him through Rita’s eyes, and her heart softened toward the child he’d once been. A child with one parent dead and the other wishing she was. Maureen tried to steel herself against the boy by remembering the man, but her thoughts remained with the boy.
“Some people think it’s strange,” Rita said, breaking the silence once again and pulling Maureen from her thoughts. “But I’ve always loved Alan like he was my own.”
Maureen returned to her own task, trying to hide the swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “I don’t think it’s strange at all.” Her voice strained at the edges. With a flash of irritation, she wished Rita had kept this all to herself. For Maureen, this subject was too close to home. Yet she couldn’t deny Rita the reassurance she sought. She felt she owed the other woman that much. “I believe it’s love that makes a family, not blood.”
“Do you?” Rita met her gaze, and Maureen saw gratitude in her eyes.
“Yes,” she said, a little ashamed of her momentary irritation with this woman who had been so good to her. “I do.”
Rita smiled, and Maureen felt warmed all over. What had she done to deserve finding Rita Ember?
“Mommy!” Katie’s voice brought them both back to the moment. “Come see!”
Maureen glanced in the direction of her daughter’s voice, then looked back at Rita.
“Go ahead, dear,” said Rita. “We’re almost done here.”
Nodding, Maureen took the opportunity to escape the strong emotions unleashed by Rita’s revelation. Later she would pull out Rita’s words and sort through them. For now, she put the conversation aside and headed out of the kitchen.
When she entered the living room, however, another emotion struck her. Dread.
Katie clung to Alan’s broad back as he bounced around the living room in imitation of a bucking bronco. Alan nickered and neighed, while Katie squealed in delight, yelling, “Down boy! Down!”
Maureen bit her bottom lip to keep her tears at bay. What was this man doing to her? To them? He crept into her thoughts and heart at every turn. First the chemistry that flickered between them, arousing a part of her she didn’t dare unleash. Then the image Rita described of the lost little boy, tugging at her heart. And now here he was, playing with her daughter, winning her over. It was too much. He was too much. She couldn’t afford to want this man. They couldn’t afford it.
“Katie, it’s time for bed.” Her words sounded harsher than she’d planned, and Alan stopped midway across the room.
“Go, horsey,” Katie insisted, ignoring her mother.
“Now, Katie.”
Katie started to object, but Alan moved to the couch, helping the little girl to slide off his back. “You wore the horsey out,” he said, settling himself on the couch while running a hand across his brow.
“No!” Katie insisted, jumping onto his lap.
Maureen crossed the room to claim her daughter. “Katie …”
“That’s enough for tonight,” Alan said, maneuvering the child into a sitting position.
Katie’s face clouded, and Maureen thought they were in for a tantrum. But Alan reached up and brushed the child’s dark curls away from her face, smoothing the pending storm. “Do what your mother says, princess. We’ll play another time.”
Katie looked at him solemnly for a moment. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Alan crossed his heart and held up his hand.
“You won’t be too busy, will you?” Maureen caught her breath at Katie’s question. She hadn’t thought Katie remembered. There had been so many broken promises.
Alan smiled while tapping Katie on the nose. “Sheriffs always keep their promises. And we’re never too busy for princesses.”
Katie seemed to consider this a moment, then nodded, evidently accepting Alan’s word. She gave him a quick hug before he stood and handed her back to her mother.
Maureen took her daughter, amazed at how easily he’d controlled her. “Thank you,” she said, while inside she felt like screaming. He’d made Katie a promise, and Katie believed him. One more reason to avoid this man.
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.
CHAPTER THREE
Katie 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.”
Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart Book 1) Page 3