Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart Book 1)

by Patricia Keelyn

  “Sure,” she answered, standing, feeling as if she’d been dismissed. “I promise.” Tommy glanced back over his shoulder and met her gaze. “I don’t break my promises,” she added. “I’ll be here again next week.” Then she turned and let herself out of the stall.

  Maureen drove back to town feeling more confused than ever.

  The boy didn’t talk as though his father beat him. Not that she was an authority on child abuse, but while working in the emergency room of an inner-city hospital, she’d seen her fair share of battered women and children. Nothing Tommy said made her think he fitted that category. As Alan had indicated, Bud seemed to be a little heavy-handed with the belt, but that was all. It was only when she’d asked about the deer that Tommy had become apprehensive.

  Something was going on with Tommy. But as the weeks went by and she saw more of him, it didn’t seem as important as it once did. It was Tommy she went out to see. Tommy who was growing to trust her. Tommy who had become her friend. And whatever secrets he held were his own.

  Summer progressed, and Maureen learned that not even Wyattville was spared a tourist season. She thought it a bit ironic. She’d traveled almost four thousand miles from Miami, the tourist mecca of the world, just to be besieged by a summer crowd cruising the Cascade Mountains. The fact that it was summer, rather than the Florida winter season, didn’t make dealing with hordes of outsiders any easier. It just made it hotter.

  For one thing, the town changed with the onslaught of the sightseers. Strangers walked the streets day and night. The town’s one motel, which Maureen had always thought of as more of a landmark than a business, suddenly thrived. Townsfolk transformed their homes into bed-and-breakfast inns, while a regular flow of travelers rented Rita’s two extra rooms. At the diner, the usual easygoing pace became hectic, and Lynn hired several local teenagers to help with the summer rush. Maureen made more money during July than she’d made in the three months she had been in Wyattville.

  The money made her start thinking about Seattle again, although for the most part she’d convinced herself that the urgency was gone.

  She and Alan were getting along well. She told herself they were friends. She felt more comfortable with him than she would have thought possible, probably because he had stopped probing. He took her and Katie places, showed them things, but he kept his distance.

  It was the best of arrangements, even though at times she thought she’d scream from wanting to feel his arms about her. Then she would push the thoughts aside, chastising herself for being a fool. She knew it was safer that she and Alan not become any more involved. As it was, she had the best of him. He was there for both her and Katie, with his dancing eyes and easy manner, without the complications a more serious relationship would entail.

  Without his being intent on uncovering her past.

  At the oddest moments, however, an inner voice whispered to her that it couldn’t last—sooner or later, she and Katie would have to flee. She was a criminal, wanted for kidnapping. Eventually, Alan would find out. And even if he didn’t turn her in, he would never understand. He’d never forgive her for what she had done.

  Sometimes, usually in the dead of night when she couldn’t sleep for wanting him, the voice got louder, telling her that her time was running out. Those nights were the worst. She would lie awake for hours, the windows open, listening to, but not hearing the night sounds of the town. She would imagine the worst during those lonely times. They were like waking nightmares. And they always ended the same, with Alan finding out what she’d done … and hating her for it.

  It had been one of those rough nights, and the diner was particularly busy. Maureen had a dull headache, the kind that hovers at the edge of your awareness, sapping your strength. She counted the minutes until she could go home and take a long, cool shower. Then it seemed the very ground collapsed beneath her, and once again her world fell apart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The front door of the diner slammed open, and a hush fell over the room. Turning in that direction, Maureen saw a huge bear of a man framed in the doorway. The light was behind him, so she couldn’t quite make out his features, but something about him looked familiar. Then he took a couple of steps into the room, and she recognized him immediately.

  “Well, if it isn’t Bud Simmons,” Lynn said, stepping in front of the big man. “What brings you to town?” Bud ignored her greeting while his eyes scanned the room. “I’m looking for that woman.”

  “Now, what woman might that be?” asked Lynn.

  His gaze landed on Maureen. “Never mind. I see her.” Brushing past Lynn, he moved across the room.

  Maureen imagined she could feel the floor quake as he lumbered toward her. He was big and scruffy, like an aging grizzly. For a moment, she felt pity. Then he stopped in front of her, smelling of stale beer and cigarette smoke, and her sympathy vanished.

  “You the woman’s been hanging around my boy?”

  Setting down the plates she’d been carrying, Maureen wiped her hands on her apron. “I take it you’re Mr. Simmons, Tommy’s father.” She extended her hand toward him, but he ignored it.

  “You bet your ass I am, lady.” He dropped his two ham-like fists to his waist and leaned closer, his foul breath nearly gagging her. “And I don’t like people messing with my boys.”

  For a moment, Maureen stood stunned. She didn’t quite know what to make of this man storming in here, accusing her of “messing” with his boys—whatever that meant.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Like hell you don’t.”

  Maureen glanced around and realized they had caught the attention of everyone in the diner. Then, looking back at Bud, she shook her head. “No, I don’t. If you’d like to explain—”

  “I’ll explain it, all right. You’ve been sneaking around my place, filling my Tom’s head full of nonsense.”

  With an effort, Maureen stood her ground. This overgrown bully might scare his two half-grown boys, but she’d be damned if she would let him frighten her. She had stood up to men twice as smart and three times as intimidating. “I’ve been out there a few times, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Messing with my Tom’s head—”

  “Bud,” Lynn interrupted, stepping up beside him. “I think you better leave.”

  Shifting his angry gaze to Lynn, he took a step in her direction. “I ain’t done.”

  “That’s okay, Lynn,” Maureen said, placing a hand on her friend’s arm. “I can handle this.” Turning back to Bud, she added, “I don’t really see what the problem is, Mr. Simmons. I’ve talked to Tommy a few times. That’s all.”

  “You ain’t got no right to interfere with the way I’m raising my boys.”

  “Interfering! Why, that’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

  “Yeah. Well …” He took another step toward her, and Maureen squelched the urge to step back. “He don’t need friends like you.”

  “I think that’s enough, Bud.” There was no mistaking the threat in Alan’s voice.

  Maureen had been so involved with Bud that she hadn’t noticed Alan enter the diner and move up behind the bigger man.

  Bud half turned. “This ain’t none of your affair, Parks.”

  “You’re disturbing the peace. That makes it my affair.”

  Bud turned on him, but Alan didn’t budge. He looked deceptively casual, arms crossed, legs spread wide. A sick fear churned in Maureen’s stomach. Bud towered over Alan by a good six inches and outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds.

  “Look,” she said, trying to dispel the sudden tension between the two men. “Mr. Simmons, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Maureen.” Alan’s words were directed at her, but his eyes never left the other man. “Bud here is just a little overprotective of his boys. Isn’t that right, Bud?”

  Bud glanced around at the hushed group of
people watching his every move. Then his gaze fell on the two deputies who had followed Alan into the diner.

  “Yeah,” he finally growled. Looking back at Maureen, he added, “But I better not catch you hanging around my place again. You hear?”

  “You’re not threatening the lady, are you, Bud?” Like his stance, Alan’s voice remained deceptively calm.

  Veering back to face him, Bud gave Alan a slow, sarcastic smile. “Wouldn’t dream of threatening, Sheriff. Just stating facts.” Brushing past Alan, he stomped out of the diner.

  Everyone in the room gave a collective sigh.

  Maureen closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. She couldn’t account for how frightened she’d been. Not of Bud. It had never crossed her mind that he would actually harm her. She’d been afraid for Alan. Alan, with his sheriff’s badge and macho attitude, hardly seemed a match for Bud’s towering strength. If Bud had hurt him because of her, because of what she’d done …

  Then, opening her eyes, she met Alan’s gaze across the room. The spark of anger she saw there stunned her, and she instinctively took a step backward.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a study in rigid control.

  She nodded, even though the hard look in his eyes promised this wasn’t over. “Yes,” she said aloud. “I’m fine.”

  Alan stood staring at Maureen for a moment longer. How could she be so naive, so reckless? He had the strongest urge to cross the room and shake her. And if he didn’t get out of here right now, he might just give in to the temptation. Pivoting on his heel, he headed for the door.

  “Alan,” she said, stopping him before he reached the door. “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t face her, not without losing the tight rein he held on his temper. Instead, he acknowledged her words with a nod and quickly left the diner.

  He wasn’t a moody man, nor was he prone to losing his temper. Yet twice in as many months, Maureen had managed to rouse his anger. The first time had been the night of the Apple Blossom Festival, when she’d lied about the feelings growing between them. And now. It looked as if she’d been lying again. Evidently, she’d never stopped. One lie after another—the woman had a real talent for it.

  True, she’d never said anything one way or the other about going out to the Simmons ranch. But he’d heard enough of Bud’s ravings to realize she had been making regular excursions out to see Tommy—and she’d never even told him about it. She knew he wouldn’t have allowed it, so she just hadn’t mentioned her trips to the Simmons place.

  A lie of omission was no less a lie than one spoken.

  Funny, he thought he’d broken through to her over the last few weeks. He’d enjoyed every minute he’d spent in her and Katie’s company, and she’d finally begun to relax with him. Now this. Frustration, sharp and bitter, ripped through him. It seemed Maureen still danced to her own tune, and he’d been following her lead.

  Yet, he’d ignored all the warning signs.

  Maybe that’s what really bothered him, infuriated him. He’d been sucked in. He’d allowed himself to become attached to her when he knew—had known from day one—that she was hiding something. He’d let it go by, disregarded his instincts, and had paid the price.

  Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he glanced around. His deputies had preceded him out of the diner and followed Bud, who was just pulling away from the curb on the other side of the street. Seeing Alan, he paused for a moment and then gunned his truck, leaving tread marks on the road. Alan shook his head but let it go. Right now, Bud wasn’t what bothered him.

  “Thought for a minute there we were going to have ourselves some fun,” Ned said, walking up behind him.

  “Yeah.” Alan nodded absently, his mind on the woman he’d left inside. “Rolling around Lynn’s with Bud Simmons would have been a hell of a good time.”

  Ned laughed. “So, what was that all about?”

  Alan shot a quick glance at his deputy. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

  “You want me to follow Bud?”

  Alan nodded again. “But give him a few minutes. I don’t want him getting all riled about us harassing him.”

  The deputy nodded and started toward his cruiser. Alan stopped him before he got more than a couple of feet. “Ned,” he said. There was something else that had just struck him, something that had been eating at him since the day he’d first met Maureen, and he’d suddenly realized what was wrong. “Why do you think women dye their hair?”

  The deputy stopped and turned, a bewildered look on his face. “You asking me, Sheriff?” At Alan’s nod, Ned added, “Hell, I don’t know.”

  “Humor me.” Alan shoved his hat to the back of his head and closed the distance between him and his deputy. “What’s the reason most women change the color of their hair?”

  “Well …” Ned hesitated, then grinned. “I guess if they want to be a blonde.”

  Alan nodded. “Yeah. There’s that. But what other reason would they have?”

  “Well, don’t mention I told you, but my mom colors her gray hair. Like on those commercials. She says the gray makes her look older.”

  Alan smiled. Ned’s mother would be angry if she knew her son had just revealed her secret—even though it was really no secret at all.

  “But what about young women?” he persisted. “Those who aren’t trying to be blondes. Why do they do it?”

  “Beats me.” Ned shrugged. “Maybe they just don’t like their real color.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” Alan shifted and stared off into the distance. Or maybe she’s running from something. After a few minutes, he said, “Thanks, Ned. You go on and make sure Bud doesn’t decide to head back into town.”

  Ned looked ready to ask another question but nodded instead. “Sure, Sheriff.”

  “I’ll be at the station if you need me.”

  Alan made his way over to his office. Inside, he tossed his hat aside and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. Propping his feet on an open drawer, he leaned back and tried to decide what to do.

  Maureen Adams. He wondered if that was even her name. Don’t be an idiot! Of course it wasn’t her real name. So he might as well forget about calling Chicago and trying to locate some lawyer named Adams who just might be her father. Hell, maybe that was a lie, too. No, he thought, that little piece of information had been an unintentional slip of truth. He’d have bet his badge on it. And the dead husband? Unless she was a hell of an actress, that was true, as well.

  So what else was she lying about? Her hair color. Hadn’t he spotted that on day one? Hadn’t he noticed a lot of things that first day, things he’d sort of pushed aside because he didn’t want to look too hard? Like the fact that she didn’t move like any down-and-out drifter he’d ever seen.

  “Damn!” he said, dropping his feet to the floor.

  Glancing at his phone, he thought of his friend Mac Credal at the Seattle Police Department. One call would be all it would take. “Hey, Mac, it’s me, Alan Parks. You know that favor you owe me …” A description of Maureen and Katie would go out on the wire within the hour, and he’d bet he’d know all he needed to know by the end of the day.

  Then what?

  Shoving a hand through his hair, he leaned back in his chair again. He couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not without giving her a chance to explain. After all, it might not be the law she was running from. Maybe an ex-husband or an abusive boyfriend. Yeah. That could be it. Just because the lady was running didn’t mean she was running from the law.

  Then why the hell hasn’t she come clean with you, Parks?

  The question leapt at him from nowhere. He tried ridding himself of it, yanking it from his back and tossing it aside. But it dug its claws in deeper and held on, eating at him, so that by the time he arrived at Rita’s after dinner, he felt as surly as a wolf nursing an injured paw.

  Maureen knew Alan was upset, and sooner or later he’d come demanding an explanation. She’d kept her visits to Tommy a secret because
she knew Alan wouldn’t approve. In fact, she was sure he would have tried to stop her.

  Her headache grew worse as the day wore on, and the crowd at the diner refused to let up. She’d never been happier to see two o’clock come around, when she could finally leave for the day. As she left the diner, she almost expected Alan to be waiting for her. Thankfully, she made it back to Rita’s without seeing him.

  All she wanted was a few aspirins—three or four at least—a cool shower and a nap. But there was Katie to think about. So she settled for the painkillers and headed to the playground with her daughter.

  As they passed Alan’s office, she noticed him standing at the window. She expected him to follow them. He had a way of cornering her when Katie was around, so she figured this time wouldn’t be any different. But he didn’t show, and instead of making her feel better, his absence made her feel worse.

  Later, she told Rita about the incident. The older woman patted her hand and told her not to worry. Alan angered quickly—that was like him—but his anger was also quick to cool. Maureen would, of course, have to stop going out to see the boy.

  For the first time all day, Maureen thought of Tommy’s situation and immediately felt a rush of guilt. How had Bud found out about her visits? Had he found out about the deer? Tommy’s reasons for keeping the deer secret remained a mystery to her, but she knew for certain that the boy’s father was a big part of it. If Bud had been angry enough to come into town and threaten her, what had he done to his son? No matter what happened with Alan, she needed to make sure that Bud hadn’t taken his anger out on Tommy.

  She and Rita were just finishing the after-dinner cleanup when someone knocked on the back door. Maureen nearly dropped the plate she’d been drying.

  Tossing her a reassuring smile, Rita opened the door. “Why, Alan,” she said, stepping back to let him enter. “We expected you for dinner.”