by Mallory Kane
She sighed and gave a little shrug. “Fine. Thank you,” she said grudgingly.
“And while I’m in here, I’ll make you some eggs and a hot cup of tea.”
As he pushed through the swinging door, she got a sharp pain in her right side. “Come on, Li’l Bit. Settle down. We’ll get to sleep soon.”
Pulling out the calculator from the shelf beneath the cash register, Faith began adding up the credit card receipts for the day, checking each one to be sure the math was correct and all the information was clearly readable.
The verification of the credit card receipts was a long, tedious process, but her customers depended on her to make sure there were no mistakes. A couple of times Faith’s eyelids threatened to close, but the smell of scrambled eggs and toast wafting in from the kitchen made it obvious that she was hungrier than she was sleepy.
About the time she was done with the cash register receipts, and her stomach was growling in anticipation of Matt’s scrambled eggs, the bells above the door jingled.
Faith looked up and gasped. Standing in the doorway was a tall, handsome man with dark wavy hair that was a fraction of an inch too long and a smile that was a fraction of an inch too wide.
For a second, Faith couldn’t do anything but gape. She hadn’t seen him since she’d taken out the loan for him. She’d figured she’d never seen him again, but here he was. Her stomach sank all the way to her toes.
“Rory!” she croaked through a throat that was tight with disbelief.
Rory Stockett swaggered in. “Hey, babe,” he said.
Faith stared at him as he came closer. “What are you doing here?”
“Wow, you’re looking good,” Rory continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He headed her way, then stopped short.
“Whoa!” A fleeting grimace crossed his face. “Look at you. You’re about to pop, aren’t you?”
Anger and resentment washed over her. “No, I am not about to pop. That’s a disgusting thing to say, especially since you haven’t shown your face around here in almost six months.”
His cloying cologne nearly gagged her as he leaned over the counter to kiss her. She recoiled.
His eyes snapped with irritation. “Hey, Faith, what the hell? I figured you’d be glad to see me. Didn’t you miss me?”
His eyes went to the open cash register drawer, then back to her. He gave her his most charming grin.
“You really do look good. I guess pregnancy agrees with you. What have we got there? A little boy? A girl?” He reached out a hand toward her tummy.
Faith stiffened and took a step backward. “We don’t have anything, remember? You need to leave. I’ve got to close up and balance the register.”
“Looks like you’re doing a good business. I’m glad.”
Faith’s hand tightened on the credit card receipts she held. The dread weighing on her stomach told her Rory was here for one thing only—money. Hadn’t she already shown him she was an easy touch? “Please go, Rory.”
“Okay, Faith. I’ll confess. I really wanted to see you. I’ve missed you a lot, more than you can imagine. But I—I couldn’t face you after what happened.” He paused, watching her face, but she didn’t change expressions.
“I got crossed up on my trucking business. A guy I trusted took my money and didn’t deliver on the rig he promised me. He gave me a broken down vehicle that wasn’t worth a quarter of what I paid him.”
Faith pressed her lips together. She wished Rory would leave before Matt came out of the kitchen. For some reason, she didn’t want Matt to see Rory Stockett. He’d have him sized up within five seconds, and she wasn’t sure she could take the look of disdain he’d send her way while he tried to figure out how she could be so dumb.
“Listen, babe,” Rory continued, his voice changing into the wheedling tone she hated. “I’ve missed you so much. I want to take care of you and our baby, but I need a favor. I’m a little short, and I’ve got a really good deal lined up. Can you let me have a few hundred? Say five? I swear I can triple it in a couple of weeks.”
“No!” Faith snapped. “Get out of here. I was fool enough to believe you once but never again. I wouldn’t loan you a life preserver if you were drowning,” she cried, knowing she would. No matter what a lowdown con man he was, he was also her child’s father.
“Hey, come on. Five C-notes? You pull in more than that at breakfast.” He reached into the register and grabbed a handful of twenties.
Faith reacted instantaneously, slamming the drawer on his hand.
“Ow!” he screeched, jerking his hand away and shaking it. His face turned red. He bared his teeth, then he grabbed her hair.
“That hurt!” He jerked her up against him, knocking her belly against the wooden counter.
“Rory, stop,” she cried. “You’ll hurt the baby.”
His fist tightened, burning her scalp and bringing tears to her eyes. He growled.
Faith pushed against his chest with all her might, but he outweighed her by at least forty pounds.
“Rory! Stop!” she cried again, only to be rewarded by Rory bending her neck backward with the strength of his hold on her hair.
Suddenly, Rory’s guttural growl changed into a gurgle. His grip on her hair loosened.
Jerking her head and feeling strands of hair pull out because they were wrapped around his fingers, Faith propelled herself backward as far as she could. She didn’t know what had happened to make him let go, but she was taking advantage of it. She blinked against tears as she scooted out of grabbing distance of Rory.
Hazily, she took in the scene before her. She’d had to call Sheriff Hale to break up arguments at the café, but this was the first time she’d ever seen a real brawl.
Matt had a headlock on Rory and was pinching his left elbow with his free hand. Rory was squealing and batting ineffectually at Matt’s arm with his right fist.
After a few seconds, Rory’s hand went slack, and the wad of twenties drifted to the floor. Then Matt swung the taller man around and slammed him against the door facing with his forearm pressing into his Adam’s apple. Rory’s face was beet-red and headed toward purple.
“Matt, let him go,” Faith cried. She was afraid Matt could kill Rory.
Matt put a little more weight behind his forearm. Rory struggled to breathe. “I don’t know who you are, but you lay a hand on her again and you’ll have to learn to live without it. Understand?” Matt let up a bit on the pressure, enough that Rory could speak.
Rory sucked in a deep rasping breath. “You son of a—”
Matt pressed again. “Faith, call Sheriff Hale. Tell him we have an attempted robbery over here.”
Rory’s eyes bulged, and he shook his head. Sweat was beading on his forehead and dripping down his temples.
Faith was too shaken to think. She went to the phone, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the sheriff’s telephone number.
“Ack!” Rory gurgled.
“Yeah? You ready to leave and not come back?”
Rory nodded. Matt eased up on the pressure against Rory’s throat. Immediately, Rory’s hand went to his neck. “You son of a bitch,” he muttered. “You could have killed me.”
Matt nodded congenially. “That’s right. But I didn’t. Faith, you can tell the sheriff we don’t need him now.”
Faith looked at the handset she held, then hung it up.
Matt shoved Rory toward the front door. “Don’t ever come back in here.”
Rory turned and looked at Faith. “It didn’t take you long to find another sucker, did it? Did you tell him that baby’s mine?”
“She’s not yours,” Faith snapped. “She’s mine.”
Matt lifted his chin and took a step toward Rory.
He swallowed and opened the door. Then he turned back. “You, whoever you are, you’re going to be sorry you messed with me.” He looked past Matt to Faith. “And so will you, bitch!” He slammed the door.
Matt switched the sign from Open to Closed, locked the d
ead bolt and lowered the blinds. Then he turned around. Faith was pale as a ghost and wavering on her feet. He rushed over to her side.
“Here,” he said. “Sit down for a few minutes. Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not as badly as I hurt him. I slammed the cash register drawer on his hand. I hope I broke a finger.”
“Good for you. That’s the baby’s father?”
Faith lowered her head and nodded. “Rory Stockett. He drifted into town looking for work and started hanging around the café. He was…sweet, attentive.” She clasped her fingers together tightly and stared at them.
Matt looked at the top of her blond head and the delicate slope of her shoulders. Her description of Stockett was a perfect fit for him as well. As far as she knew, Matt was just another sweet, attentive drifter.
It explained a lot about her warm and cool running emotions.
He found it so easy to talk to her. It seemed that when ever they were together they just slipped into pleasant, comfortable conversation. But invariably, after a few minutes, Faith would start backing away—sometimes physically, always emotionally. Now he understood why. She saw him as another man like her ex. As much as he longed to tell her—to show her—that he was no drifter, that unlike Stockett, he was trustworthy, he couldn’t.
Although, even if she knew the truth, would she see him as any more honest than Stockett? He was lying to her as surely as Stockett had.
He shook his head mentally and reminded himself that it didn’t matter if she trusted him. He was here to do a job, and part of that job involved keeping her safe. Bellows needed the Talk of the Town Café, and the café existed because of Faith.
Faith was still visibly shaken. The fingers of one hand were covering her mouth, and the other hand rubbed the side of her tummy.
Matt sat down across from her. “What did he do to you?” he asked softly.
“He grabbed my hair when I slammed the drawer on his hand. That’s all.”
“No,” Matt said, taking her hand away from her mouth and enclosing it in his. “Not tonight. What happened before?”
She looked at their clasped hands for a few seconds then raised her head and gave him a rueful smile. “Same old story,” she said. “Boy meets girl. Girl gets pregnant. Boy gives girl a ring and asks for money to start a trucking business so they can have a good life. Girl’s too gullible to see through him. Boy skips town with the money.” She shrugged.
Matt’s chest ached for her. She’d believed in Rory Stockett, and he’d taken advantage of her. “How often does he show up like this?”
“Never,” she said. “I thought he was gone for good. I haven’t seen him since the day I gave him the money.”
“And he shows up tonight. Why now?” Right before the big town hall meeting? It could be a coincidence, but Matt had a hard time believing that. He needed to check with Bellows, see what he knew about Rory Stockett.
“What do you mean, why now?”
Matt straightened. “I’ve heard rumors that Governor Lockhart is planning to be in Freedom this weekend. What are Stockett’s political leanings?”
Faith laughed. “He doesn’t have any. Nor does he have personal integrity or a moral code or a conscience.”
All of this added up to a man who would do anything for money and whose loyalty was for sale to the highest bidder. Matt definitely had to talk to Bellows tomorrow.
But right now, Faith was still pale and looking a little green around the gills. So Matt got up and dashed into the kitchen. He returned with the eggs and toast.
“Here. Eat this before it gets any colder.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think—”
“You’re about to pass out or throw up, I’m not sure which,” Matt persisted. “But the best thing you can do is get some food into your stomach. What do you want to drink?”
She picked up her fork, a good sign.
“Orange juice it is, then.” He took a glass and filled it from the orange juice dispenser and set it in front of her. She turned it up and drank half in one breath.
“You live here upstairs, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Alone?”
“Yes,” Faith said. She searched Matt’s dark eyes. “Why?
“Can you get someone to stay with you?”
“No. I mean, there’s no need. Glo is here until nine o’clock most evenings, and Valerio comes in at 4:00 a.m. I’m alone for barely seven hours.” She laughed. “Sometimes I wish I could afford more staff. I’d love to sleep late one morning.”
“Do you have an alarm system?”
“No.” She frowned at him. “Do you think Rory is dangerous? I don’t. He gets frustrated and angry, and I’d trust a rattlesnake before I’d trust him, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You couldn’t prove that by me, not after what I saw this evening.” Matt glanced around the café, his mind racing. “I’ll stay here tonight.”
“What? No, you won’t.”
“In fact,” he said, hoping he wasn’t getting in over his head. Bellows’s suggestion that he stay around town was perfect timing. “The construction job is on hold—problem with materials delivery. I’ll stay here for a few days. I can give you an extra hand during the town hall meeting, and I’ll feel better about your safety.”
He gauged her reaction and didn’t like it. She was looking at him with suspicion clearly written all over her face. She was measuring him against Rory Stockett, and apparently, he was stacking up to be pretty much equal to the slick con man in her eyes.
But she had something else on her mind. “How do you know about the town hall meeting? It’s not being announced until tomorrow morning.”
Oops. Had he said that out loud? Matt hoped his expression stayed bland as he scrambled for an answer. “One of the guys I work with must have said something. He works at the Lockharts’ ranch part-time.”
Faith nodded, but the suspicion didn’t fade from her eyes.
“Okay, then,” Matt continued. “I’m going to sack out on one of those benches tonight. I’ll leave your cook a note so when he comes in tomorrow he’ll know I’m out here.”
“I don’t want you here,” she said. “I don’t need you.”
“Look at me,” he said. “You are in danger. I don’t trust Stockett as far as I can throw him. If you don’t let me stay here, I’m calling your cook or Glo and telling them to come in right now.”
“Valerio has two children, boys, and Glo has cats.”
“Then it’s settled.”
Faith got up and went around the counter to the cash register. She took a key out of her pocket and locked the drawer. When she saw him watching her, she blushed. “I do that every night,” she said.
Matt nodded. “I’ll get the lights.”
For a second, she stood there as if she didn’t know what to do. Matt understood. He had interrupted her routine. To be fair, Stockett had interrupted it first, but Matt had aided in the disruption.
Then she turned toward the stairs leading up to her apartment. As she stepped on the first step, she uttered a little gasp, and her right hand went to her side.
“Faith, are you okay?”
She took a couple of short breaths. “Yes, I’m fine. Just Li’l Bit letting me know it’s time for bed.”
“You said she a while ago. You’re having a girl?”
She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I don’t know—not officially. I haven’t asked the sex of the baby but yes. I’m sure it’s a girl.”
Matt smiled. He could still remember when his twin sisters were born. He’d been thirteen, and he’d often babysat them while his mother worked. He’d loved playing with them, especially as they got old enough to toddle around. He made a game out of dressing them and trimming their hair differently, to see if his mother could still tell them apart. She always could.
His friends gave him hell about playing with dolls, but he didn’t care. They were his baby sisters, and although he was onl
y thirteen, he was man of the house and therefore responsible for keeping them safe and happy. “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”
Faith’s mouth turned up in a smile, and she met his gaze. But then the smile faded and her back stiffened. “I have to get to bed,” she said coolly. “Good night.”
Matt watched her until her legs disappeared at the top of the stairs. He double-checked the front and back doors and the door to the basement, then he turned out the overhead lights and lay down, searching for a comfortable position on a bench that was several inches too short for his long legs.
Once again, Faith’s attitude had changed midconversation. He’d asked one too many personal questions, gotten a little too close. Faith didn’t trust him, and her attitude wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
He had Rory Stockett to thank for that.
Chapter Four
Matt came awake instantaneously but didn’t move a muscle. It was a skill he’d learned in combat in Iraq. He tried to identify the sound that had woken him but couldn’t. Then he felt a presence standing over him.
He opened his eyes to see a hefty middle-aged man with slick black hair, a brown weathered face and an air force tattoo on his left bicep. He had on a white T-shirt and a white apron.
Matt moved to sit up, groaning internally at the pain of his stiff muscles. Sleeping curled up on the diner bench all night had been no picnic.
“No se mueva!”
Matt froze. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m—”
“Matteo Soarez!” the man spat out, holding up the note Matt had left in the kitchen last night. “Por qué estás aquí?”
“Hey, buddy. Hablo Inglés.”
The man smiled, but on him it wasn’t a nice expression. “So do I. What are you doing here?”
Matt slowly moved into a sitting position. “I’m here to protect Faith.”
“And does she know about this?”
Matt yawned as he nodded. “Mind if I stand? It’s Valerio, right?” he asked, using the name he’d heard Faith use the night before.
In answer, Valerio backed away a couple of steps.
Matt stood, stretching out his legs and back. In some ways, sleeping on that cramped bench had been worse than sleeping on the ground in an airless tent in the desert.