Christmastime Courtship

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Officer Kirby is going to need to see that picture you have of you and your mommy,” Miranda said, cutting into what she was afraid the man was about to tell the little girl. “Can you go get it for me, Lily?”

  The little girl bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically. “I’ll be right back,” she stated, and took off.

  “I can’t promise her I’ll find her mother,” Colin said in a no-nonsense voice.

  “Maybe you could try,” Miranda suggested. When she saw his expression darken, she tried to make him see it from Lily’s side. “Everyone needs something to hang on to,” she pointed out.

  Colin looked totally unconvinced. “Hanging on to a lie doesn’t help,” he told her.

  “It won’t be a lie—if you find Gina,” Miranda countered.

  He couldn’t believe she’d just said that. The woman obviously had her head in the clouds. “Does your plane ever land?” he asked.

  “Occasionally,” she allowed, and then, smiling, she added, “To refuel.”

  Colin was about to say something about the danger of crashing and burning if she wasn’t careful, but just then Lily returned, burrowing in between them. The little girl was clutching a five-by-seven, cheaply framed photograph against her small chest.

  Planting herself squarely in front of the police officer, she held out the picture for him to see. It was recent, by the looks of it, he judged. The little girl appeared the same in it and she was wearing the dress she had on now.

  He caught himself wondering if it was her only dress, which surprised him. Thoughts like that didn’t usually occur to him.

  “That’s us. Me and my mommy,” Lily told him proudly. She held the framed photograph up higher so he could see it better. “Miranda says she’s pretty,” the little girl added. And then her smile faded as she asked, “You’re not going to lose the picture, are you? It’s the only one I’ve got.”

  Colin paused, looking at the small, worried face. “Tell you what,” he said, pulling his cell phone out of his breast pocket. “Why don’t I take a picture of your photo with my phone?” he suggested. “That way I’ll have a copy to show around so I can find your mother, and you get to keep that picture for yourself.”

  He was rewarded with a huge smile that took up Lily’s entire face. “That’s a good idea,” she told him. Her eyes were sparkling as she added, “You’re really smart.”

  He was about to dismiss that assessment, flattering though it was, when he heard Miranda tell the little girl, “He’s a police officer,” as if the one automatically implied the other.

  “Just seemed like a simple solution,” Colin told the little girl evasively. “Now hold up the picture,” he said to her, wanting to move on to another topic.

  Lily did as he asked, holding the framed photograph as high as she could so that he had an unobstructed view. The moment he snapped the picture with the camera app on his phone and, after looking at the screen, pronounced it “Good,” he suddenly felt small arms encircling his waist just below his belt and holstered weapon.

  “Thank you!” Lily cried. “And thank you for looking for my mommy.”

  He was about to say that “looking” didn’t necessarily mean finding, but before he did, something made him glance in Miranda’s direction.

  She was moving her head slowly from side to side, silently indicating that she knew exactly what he was about to say to the little girl, and imploring him not to do so.

  Colin blew out his breath impatiently, then compromised and told the little girl, who still had her arms around him, “I’ll do my best, Lily.”

  “You’ll find her,” she declared. “I know you will.” Lily said it with the kind of unshakable belief that only the very young were blessed with.

  “Lily, honey,” Miranda prompted, “you need to let go of Officer Kirby so he can get started looking for your mommy.”

  “Oh.”

  He was surprised and maybe just a bit charmed, he discovered, to hear the little girl giggle.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, releasing him. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  Again he wanted to tell her that just because he’d promised to look for her mother didn’t mean that he was going to be able to find her.

  Maybe it was because Miranda was standing so close to him, or maybe it was all that hope he saw shining in the little girl’s blue eyes, but the words he was about to say froze on his tongue, unable to exit. He couldn’t bring himself to be the one to force Lily to face up to reality and all the ugliness that came with it.

  So all he did was mumble, “Yeah,” and then turn on his heel and begin striding toward the shelter’s exit—and freedom.

  It wasn’t until he was way past the front door and standing outside, dragging in air to clear his head, that he realized the woman who had roped him into this was right behind him.

  Now what?

  Was she going to try to get him to pinkie-swear that he was going to come through on that half promise he’d been forced to make?

  “Look, I’ll do what I can,” he said, before she could open her mouth to say a word.

  To his surprise, the woman who was quickly becoming his main source of irritation nodded as she smiled at him. “I know. That’s all anyone can ask.”

  No, Colin thought, as he mounted his motorcycle. The exasperating blonde was asking him for a hell of a lot more than that.

  The thing that he really couldn’t understand, he realized as he rode away, was that for some reason Miranda Steele was making him want to deliver on that vague nonpromise he’d just made to that little girl.

  Chapter Five

  He absolutely hated asking anyone for anything, even if it involved something in the line of duty. If he didn’t ask, Colin felt that there was no chance of his being turned down. There was also the fact that if he didn’t ask someone to do something for him, then he wouldn’t owe anyone a favor in return.

  Again he found himself wishing he had never pulled Miranda over to give her a ticket in the first place. If he hadn’t done that, then he wouldn’t be faced with the dilemma he was now looking at.

  It was the end of his shift and Colin was tempted to just clock out and go home. But despite his desire to divorce himself from the situation, his mind kept conjuring up images of that little girl’s small, sad face looking up at him as if he was the answer to all her prayers.

  No one had ever looked at him like that before.

  It was all that woman’s fault, Colin thought grudgingly.

  Miranda.

  Who named their kid Miranda these days, anyway? he wondered irritably.

  It was late, Colin thought as he walked into the locker room. Too late to really start anything today. To assuage his conscience, he decided to come in earlier tomorrow and maybe nose around, see if anyone had any information pertaining to a woman who matched this Gina Hayden’s description.

  After opening his locker, Colin took out his civilian clothes and began changing into them. He was tired and he’d be able to think more clearly tomorrow morning when he—

  “The poor woman was lying there, slumped over by the Dumpster and hardly breathing. I thought she was dead. Really not the kind of thing you’d expect to see around here.”

  Colin stopped tucking his shirt into his jeans. The conversation that was coming from the row of lockers directly behind his caught his attention. He listened more closely.

  “Lucky thing you found her when you did, Moran,” a second, deeper voice commented. “Why did you go in that alley, anyway?”

  Colin heard a locker door being closed before “Moran” answered the other officer. “I saw two kids running out of there. They looked pretty spooked.”

  “You think they were the ones who assaulted her?” the other patrol officer asked.

  A second locker was cl
osed. The officers sounded as if they were about to leave.

  “There was no blood on either one of them,” Moran was saying, “and frankly, they looked too scared to have beaten her that way. To be on the safe side, I snapped a picture of them as they took off. They ran into a building across the way. Shouldn’t be all that hard locating them if I need to.”

  Colin closed his locker. What were the odds? he wondered.

  At the very least, he needed to check this out.

  Making his way to the next set of lockers, he was just in time to catch the two officers before they left the locker room.

  “What happened to the woman?” Colin asked.

  Officer Bob Moran looked up at him, surprised by the question. They knew one another vaguely by sight, but that was where it ended. They’d certainly never talked shop before.

  “I called a bus for her,” Moran answered. “The paramedics took her to Mercy General.”

  “Did you go with her?” Colin inquired.

  Moran looked slightly uncomfortable. “No. It was the end of my shift and she was unconscious. I figured she’d be more up to giving me a statement tomorrow morning.”

  “What happened to her?” Colin pressed.

  The fact that he was asking questions seemed to surprise the other two officers. Moran exchanged glances with Pete Morales, the second policeman, before answering. “Looked to me like someone stole her purse. I couldn’t find any ID on her—or a wallet.”

  Colin took out his cell phone and flipped to the picture he’d taken of the photograph Lily had held up for him.

  He turned his cell toward Moran. “This her?”

  Bushy eyebrows rose high enough to almost meet a receding hairline. Moran appeared stunned. “Yeah, that’s her, minus the swollen lip and the bruises.” And then he looked at Colin. “You know her?”

  He put his phone away. “No.”

  When he didn’t volunteer anything further, curiosity had Moran asking, “Then why do you have her picture?”

  Colin scowled. Granted, this wasn’t exactly personal, but he still didn’t like being put in the position where he had to elaborate. He preferred keeping to himself in general and answering questions only when he had no other choice.

  But he didn’t see a way out without arousing even more questions. Pausing for a moment, he finally said, “The woman was reported missing from a homeless shelter.”

  “That her little girl with her?” Morales asked, his demeanor softening as he looked at the child holding up the framed photograph.

  “Yeah,” Colin answered shortly. “Thanks for the information.” Without any further exchange, he began walking away.

  “You going to see her?” Moran called after him.

  Colin didn’t stop to turn around when he replied, “That was the idea.”

  “I can go with you,” Moran volunteered, raising his voice.

  Colin almost asked why, but supposed the other man’s conscience had gotten the better of him. Or maybe Moran just wanted the credit. In either case, Colin didn’t care.

  “You’ve done enough. I’ll take it from here.” He kept on going, then slowed down long enough to throw the word thanks over his shoulder before he left the locker area.

  He heard a somewhat confused “Don’t mention it” in response.

  Colin just kept on walking.

  * * *

  The last person in the world Miranda expected to see walking into the women’s shelter that evening was the motorcycle officer she’d managed to talk into looking for Lily’s missing mother.

  Ordinarily, Miranda would have left by now, but she’d stayed at the shelter today to try to bolster Lily’s spirits. Despite her normally upbeat, cheerful nature, it was obvious that the little girl was sincerely worried about her mother. The fact that several of the other children there had told her that her mother had “run away” and abandoned her didn’t help any. Lily refused to listen to them.

  “My mommy wouldn’t leave me!” she’d cried. “She loves me!” The little girl was convinced that something had to have happened to her mom, preventing her from returning.

  Miranda had stayed at the shelter until she’d finally managed to calm Lily down and get her to fall asleep.

  She was just leaving when she saw the officer coming in.

  One look at Colin’s grim face had her thinking the worst—and fervently hoping she was wrong.

  It was obvious that he didn’t see her when he walked in. Miranda cut across the common area like a shot, placing herself in his path.

  Trying to brace herself for whatever he had to say, she didn’t bother with any small talk or preliminary chitchat. “You found her,” she said breathlessly, willing him to say something positive.

  Colin hadn’t been sure Miranda would still be here, but she managed to surprise him by materializing out of nowhere.

  “Yeah, I found her.”

  Miranda immediately felt her heart shoot up into her throat, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

  How was she going to tell Lily that her mother was dead?

  Her mind scrambled, searching for words, for solutions. Maybe she could take Lily in as a foster parent, or maybe—

  The woman standing in front of him almost turned white. That was not the sort of reaction he was expecting from her.

  She also wasn’t saying anything, another surprise, he thought.

  “Don’t you want to know where she is?” he finally asked.

  The startlingly blue eyes widened more than he thought was humanly possible. “You mean she’s alive?” Miranda cried.

  “Well, yeah,” he answered, surprised she was asking that. “If she was dead, I would have led with that.”

  “Dead? Somebody’s dead?” an adolescent boy standing within earshot asked, instantly alert.

  “Every single nerve in my body, for openers, Edward.” Miranda blew out a shaky breath. “That’s what I get for jumping to conclusions.” She turned toward the police officer, who had just become her hero. Suddenly, tears were filling her eyes, spilling out and rolling down her cheeks. “You really found her,” she whispered, clearly choked up.

  “We’ve established that,” Colin retorted. And then he looked at her more closely and realized what was going on. “Hey, are you crying?” he demanded, stunned.

  Miranda pressed her lips together as she nodded. “Miracles make me do that,” she told him hoarsely.

  He wasn’t sure if the miracle she was referring to was that he had found Lily’s mother, or that he had bothered to look in the first place. Either way, he knew he wasn’t about to ask her to elaborate. He was determined to keep communication between them to an absolute minimum—or as close to that as possible.

  Digging into his back pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and pushed it into her hand. “You’re getting messy,” he muttered.

  Taking the handkerchief, Miranda smiled at him.

  I see through you, Officer Kirby. You’re not the big, bad wolf you pretend to be. You’re a kind man under all that bluster.

  Wiping her eyes, she asked, “What happened to her?”

  He’d gone to the hospital to get as much information as he could before coming to the shelter. He knew there would be questions and he wasn’t about to turn up unprepared.

  Drawing her toward an alcove, he told Miranda, “From the looks of it, someone tried to rob her. When she held on to her purse, the thug decided to teach her a lesson. Doctor said she was pretty badly beaten. She was unconscious when they first brought her in,” he added.

  “But she’s conscious now.” It was half a question, half an assumption.

  The woman had been just coming around when he’d gone to see her. “Yeah.”

  “Which hospital is she in?” Miranda asked.

 
“The paramedics took her to the one closest to where they found her,” he answered. “Mercy General.”

  Miranda nodded, absorbing the information. Lily. She had to tell Lily.

  She started to head toward the back, where some of the beds were located, when she stopped suddenly and whirled back around to face Colin again. Hurrying over, she caught him completely by surprise by throwing her arms around him.

  Startled, Colin’s ingrained training immediately had him protecting himself and pushing the person in his space away. But that turned out to be harder than he’d anticipated. For a rather willowy, dainty-looking woman, Miranda had a grip worthy of a world-class wrestling champion.

  The second she’d thrown her arms around him, she’d felt Colin stiffening. She was making him uncomfortable.

  Loosening her hold, Miranda took a half step back. “Thank you,” she said.

  He’d never heard more emotion stuffed into two words in his life.

  Colin deflected the tidal wave of feelings as best he could. “I’m a cop. That’s just supposed to be part of my job.”

  The smile on her lips was a knowing one, as if she had his number—which was impossible, because they were practically strangers. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his protest was falling on deaf ears.

  “The key words being ‘supposed to,’” she told him. “I didn’t think you were going to look for her,” Miranda admitted.

  That made no sense. “Then why did you ask me to?” he asked.

  Her face seemed to light up as she answered, “A girl can always hope.” And then she grabbed his hand and said, “Come with me.”

  But Colin remained rooted to the spot, an immovable object. “Come with you where?”

  “To tell Lily that you found her mother,” she answered, tugging on his hand again.

  But Colin still wouldn’t budge an inch. “You can tell her.”

  Miranda was nothing if not stubborn. He had done the work and he deserved to get the credit, which in this case involved Lily’s gratitude. “You found her. Lily is going to want to hear it from you. And then after you tell her, you can take us to the hospital to see Gina.”