The sandwich shop was nearly deserted, as it was three in the afternoon. Cassie walked in and made her way to the counter.
“Can I help you?” a beautiful brunette asked with a bright smile.
“Yes, thank you.” Cassie waited, hoping the boy hadn’t disappeared because he’d failed to steal her purse. “I’d like a chocolate chip cookie and a hot cocoa, please.” She heard the door open and close, and then the preteen snuck in, glancing quickly around as if looking for someone. “And whatever he orders,” Cassie said, turning to look at him.
The boy slowly shuffled over. He glanced over the menu on the blackboard and said, “Tuna melt, please.”
Cassie glanced back at the lady manning the counter. The brunette’s expression had cooled significantly; she didn’t want the kid in her shop. Cassie kept her face neutral, pretending she hadn’t noticed that anything was amiss.
“A juice,” Cassie said, tilting her head to the cooler next to them. “And an oatmeal raisin cookie.” She didn’t want to embarrass him by asking which kind. She’d give him both the cookies.
The lady nodded shortly. Cassie unzipped her purse and paid for the food with cash. She caught the young man eyeing the bills. Receiving her change, she stepped back to wait with him. Cassie wanted to make sure he got the food.
“Do you want to sit?” she asked him.
He shook his head, his eyes darting to the window and away. What was he hiding from?
She pulled apple and orange juices from the cooler. “Which one?” she asked.
“Apple, please.”
He had good manners. Cassie put the orange back and handed him the apple. He twisted the lid off and took a long drink, swallowing almost half of it at once. Shoot, she should’ve gotten more drinks, but she didn’t want to order more now and embarrass him. He already looked about ready to bolt, and he hadn’t met her eye since she’d asked if he was hungry.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Will.”
“I’m Cassie. Are you from here?”
Another quick head shake. “Ogden.”
“What brought you to Park City?”
He looked down and mumbled, “More money up here.”
That made sense. Ogden was probably the least affluent city in Utah, while Park City was the most. She wondered what he did in the wintertime, though. The winter was viciously cold and relentlessly snowy. He was much too young to be on his own. She felt a responsibility to turn him in to the authorities and make sure he was off the streets, but from the raw look in his eyes, she could see that he wouldn’t take kindly to that.
“Do you … have a home?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said defiantly, staring out the window again to avoid meeting her eye.
“Would you lie to me?”
“Yes,” he said, just as defiantly.
Cassie raised an eyebrow.
“Not about that, though,” he rushed to say. “I’ve got a foster family, okay? So don’t be calling the cops or anything.”
Cassie was torn. A call to the police might be exactly what he needed, but she’d told him she wouldn’t turn him in. “Is your foster family in Park City?”
He nodded, but she didn’t know if she believed him. He’d said he moved here from Ogden for more money, not for his housing situation.
“Do they feed you enough?”
He met her gaze then and pointed to his thin abdomen. “What do you think?”
Cassie’s heart about broke, for perhaps the hundredth time over the past four years. Even in the privileged land of America, children were hungry. If the foster family was taking the money from the state for his care, they wouldn’t be getting rich off of it, but they should at least be able to keep him fed. She wished she could report them, but he might not give her enough information. “How old are you?” she asked.
“Twelve.”
Older than she’d thought. He must really be malnourished. “Where do you go to school?”
“It’s Friday. Early out today,” he muttered. While he obviously didn’t want to give her details so she could narrow down where he lived, at least he would reaffirm that he wasn’t skipping school.
The brunette brought the hot cocoa and a sack with the food in it. Cassie thanked her and took the food. She looked to Will. “Do you want to sit and eat it?”
“No, thank you.” He eyed the bag greedily.
Cassie tilted her head, and he walked quickly to the door. He swung it wide and held it for her. That was adorable of him. She found herself so drawn to this kid. Was it his deep brown eyes that reminded her of her little brother, or was it the fact that she couldn’t stand to see a child hungry?
They walked out into the bright, crisp air. Cassie set the food and hot cocoa down on a nearby bench. “Do you want to sit here and eat?”
“I’ll go to the park. Thanks.” He bent to grab the sack.
She said, “The hot cocoa too.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, picking up the hot cocoa and turning to go.
“Wait.” She knew she shouldn’t hand him cash, but he was tugging at her. She’d think after seeing so much sadness and deprivation throughout the world her heart would start to harden, but her heart just kept getting softer and more pliable. She felt almost desperate that she’d never be able to do enough. Yet if her nonstop charitable missions wore her down anymore, she might snap soon. It helped to be on this break with Heath and enjoy his beautiful Park City resort, hiking and mountain biking with her brother, but she didn’t know that there was a solution. Tomorrow she’d fly home to Colorado to be with more of her family and watch one of Austin’s Little League football games. If she could get an infusion of Austin’s energy, maybe she’d be ready to re-dedicate every day and hour to changing the world again. Her breaks were never long enough. An orphanage in Haiti was calling to her; she’d be there by the end of the week.
Cassie pulled her wallet out of her purse and saw that greedy look in his eyes again. She fished out a little over sixty dollars in cash and offered it to him, but as he reached for it, his arm bumped into hers and the hot cocoa in his hand hit her arm. The lid popped off, and hot liquid splattered over her arm, drenching her sweatshirt. Cassie dropped her wallet, biting back a word her mama would not approve of.
Will bent swiftly, setting the food on the ground and scooping up her wallet. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay—”
A tall, well-built man had Will by the arm before Cassie could figure out where he’d come from. “Give her the wallet back,” the guy said in a deep but obviously tight voice.
“I was,” Will protested, handing it over.
Cassie took it, but she shoved the cash into his fingers.
“Thanks,” Will muttered, tucking it deep into his pocket with his free hand.
Keeping a hold of Will’s left arm, the man whipped to face her with obvious frustration in his blue eyes. She was about ready to give him a piece of her mind. How dare he treat this little boy like some criminal?
Cassie’s mouth dropped open, and heat raced through her. She had never seen eyes that incredible, a bright Caribbean blue with dark lashes and brows. She faltered, “Y-you …”
His eyes widened perceptibly, and his grip on Will loosened. The child yanked away and darted up the street. Shaking himself, the man tore his gaze from Cassie’s and sprinted after the boy. With his much longer legs and obviously fit body, the man caught Will easily, dragging him violently to a stop.
Cassie let out a gasp of exasperation. What had Will done to deserve this man’s contempt, and why had she let herself get so lost in those blue eyes that she’d forgotten about the little boy he was mistreating?
She swept the food off the ground, putting the apple juice in the sack but leaving the spilled hot cocoa, and stormed toward them. “Leave him alone,” she demanded.
“Give her the cash back, Will,” the man said at the same time, turning and dragging Will back toward her.
“I don
’t want the cash back,” she insisted, but she faltered as she realized what he’d said. “You know him?”
She’d put the question to Will, but it was the man who answered. “Oh, yeah, we know Will. Our famous little pickpocket.”
Cassie planted her hands on her hips and stood as tall as her five-four height allowed. This man was probably as tall as her brothers, maybe six-two or -three, and he was well built. His face was sculpted and handsome, and she loved the way his dark brown beard and hair complemented his face and eyes. Not that any of that mattered to her in the least. Why was she letting herself get sidetracked by his looks? He was a bully, and she’d had to fight against or run from so many bullies over the past four years that she was becoming an expert. She’d even gone through self-defense training so she could protect herself and others, and she always had pepper spray in her pocket or purse. Cassie despised conflict and hated to fight, but she usually had no choice. If only she could relax and let somebody else take up the fight for a little while. Not today, apparently. Not even in affluent America.
“He didn’t take one thing from me,” she insisted. “I gave him the money, and I’m giving him this food.” She held the bag out. Will took it with his free hand, meeting her gaze with his dark brown eyes and mumbling a thank-you. “I demand that you release him.”
The man narrowed his eyes at her. “So you won’t be pressing charges?”
“He didn’t do anything.”
“He almost slipped one of your credit cards out of his wallet when I interrupted.”
“You can’t prove nothing, Detective Beckham,” Will shot at him. Then he reddened and looked away.
The man gritted his teeth. Detective Beckham. That made more sense. Undercover, or on his day off? Where had she heard that name before?
The detective glanced down at Will and said in an undertone, “Today I can’t prove anything; don’t push me tomorrow.”
Will glared back with all the defiance of a teenager.
“Get on home,” the detective muttered.
Will didn’t need to be told twice. He took his food and ran up off the street. Turning back once, he yelled, “Thank you, lady!”
“You’re welcome,” Cassie called back.
They both watched him go for a few seconds. His thin form, big brown eyes, and sad story wrenched her heart. She wished she would’ve given him a hug, though she doubted he’d have let her.
Detective Beckham turned back to her. The force of those eyes focused on her was powerful enough that she almost lost the ability to speak again. Almost.
“How dare you?” she demanded. “He’s only twelve, and his foster family isn’t feeding him.”
The blue eyes got a haunted look in them. Then he blinked, and that look was gone so quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined it. “How do you know that?”
“He told me.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Detectives in Park City have nothing better to do than harass young boys who are hungry? I’d think in this wealthy spot you’d be able to provide for and protect those children instead of belittle and scare them.”
Detective Beckham offered her a tight smile. “Will is very well provided for by tourists such as yourself, and he could use a good scare before he ends up back in juvie again.”
“Again?” The poor kid. Her heart went out to him, but she’d been around much more needy children throughout the world, and she’d go back to helping those children soon.
“He’s already got a record. He likes to steal cash and credit cards from the people helping him.”
“Well, why doesn’t someone help him beyond a handout, then? Teach him? You’re in a position of authority, and you obviously know him. Use your connections to get him with a family who feeds and loves him, and get him in with a therapist to work through his obviously troubled past.”
The man’s eyes filled with surprise. He stared at her for half a beat. “You’re an idealist,” he said.
“You’re obviously not.” Idealist? He had no idea. She used to be a Pollyanna wannabe, not anymore. She’d seen too much, been exposed to too much, and been attacked one too many times. Luckily, she’d escaped with her virtue intact, but her idealism? Not so much.
“Too many years in the school of life,” he said, but there was something in those too-blue eyes that belied his words. She’d struck a chord, or maybe even given him a gut punch.
“Well, then maybe you could empathize with somebody like Will rather than tear him down.”
“Will needs a lot more help than I can give him,” he said in a low grunt.
“At least you could try.” She was maybe pushing him too hard, but Will’s dark eyes had gotten to her. This guy would still be around next week to watch after Will. If she could reach past the too-tough exterior.
“Is Heath your brother?” he asked. He was either grappling for common ground with her or simply ready to be done being cussed out about his treatment of Will.
She nodded, interested in his connection to Heath but realizing she’d lost. He wasn’t going to help Will and she was leaving tomorrow. The poor kid.
The detective smiled, and she could’ve sworn the ground shifted. The power of that smile combined with the lure of those eyes took her breath away. “Heath’s a good friend,” he said.
Cassie thought she might have muttered something in response, but all she could think was, Get away, get away. A man who could enchant her with that smile and those eyes, but who obviously had no sympathy for a wayward child, was not someone she wanted to be around. The last man she’d been drawn to and trusted had made her skeptical and suspicious of every man. Only her faith and her natural optimism had pulled her from that dark funk. No way could she go back there.
She turned and speed-walked away, wanting to run. The other option—staying and letting those eyes and that smile draw her in—could not happen in this lifetime.
Detective Jed Beckham watched Heath Strong’s incredible sister basically run away from him. The breath had fled from his lungs like he’d free-fallen off a cliff and nobody was going to catch him. He wanted to chase after her, drink long and deep of those dark eyes that were so filled with light and sympathy. Maybe they could infuse some of that light into his burned-out soul. Sadly, he could only admire her fit shape and the drape of dark hair swinging down her back. Her deep brown eyes had pulled him in the instant their gazes had met. He’d lost all rational thought and could barely formulate a coherent response.
Heath had told him his younger sister, Cassie, was coming to visit for a few days. Jed had hoped to meet her but hadn’t given it too much thought. Now he was floored by her light, her kindness, and her wholesome beauty. He wanted more. Yet if he thought he had a chance with a woman like that, he was being more idealistic than she was. She was Heath’s sister, so she wouldn’t be interested in a public servant who had been raised similarly to what Will was going through. Heath Strong was a self-made millionaire, possibly a billionaire, but Jed knew the entire family were well off and they were a strong, stable family unit.
His last foster family, the Ollivers, had been incredible people. They’d never officially adopted him, as he’d turned eighteen a few months after he moved in with them, but they loved him like a son and he could always go visit them and feel that love when he needed a break. That was much more than he could say about any of his other foster families. He knew how it felt to get beaten, to be hungry, to feel desperate, and definitely to feel unloved and unwanted. He’d hated it for himself and hated it even more for Will, but what could he do besides try to keep the kid out of juvie?
How had Cassie Strong known exactly where to hit him? She’d said that he could at least empathize with Will, and he did, every single day. He’d tried everything with Will—being his buddy, buying him food, and trying to get him to talk—but none of that had worked over the past year. The little dude was sneaky and hated authority figures. Jed had started being sharper and stricter with Will, but that obviously wasn’t working eithe
r. He passed a hand over his face, regretting the way he’d just acted. Cassandra Strong probably thought Jed was a jerk, and he wouldn’t blame her. He had wondered if the boy was getting enough food, considering how scrawny he was, but he didn’t have any solid proof of neglect. When he got back to the office, he’d call DCFS and ask about a home visit of Will’s family or a reassignment. The last thing he wanted was the little guy back in a youth detention center, but at least he’d get three meals a day there and not try to steal beautiful women’s credit cards.
Jed pushed out a breath and headed back up the street, walking slowly as he replayed each moment of the interaction with that incredible woman. Cassie Strong’s beautiful face, deep brown eyes, and pretty bow of a mouth were dancing through his brain. He loved how compassionate and passionate she was. He felt like he’d woken up and been drawn into light and happiness, simply from being around her for a few minutes. She was completely out of his league, and it would be better for both of them if he didn’t see her again, but he knew he had no chance of forgetting her.
Chapter One
Three months later
Christmas Eve
Cassie woke early on Christmas Eve, dressed in a long-sleeved running shirt, tights, and gloves, and slipped out of her parents’ house. She loved every minute of being with her large, rambunctious family, but the past few days had been crazier than usual. Her brother Heath had been sheltering Hazel Longhurst, an innocent fugitive wanted for attempted murder. The whole thing had exploded yesterday when Hazel’s pursuer—a man named Brigham London who’d tried to kill his own cousin and frame Hazel for it—showed up and almost kidnapped her. Heath had rescued her and was now flying across the ocean to try to find Hazel, whose passport had been revoked by a spiteful American FBI agent.
The family had been going nuts rehashing every angle of the story, sharing bits and pieces of the information they had. The youngest, Austin, had all kinds of details and was happy to share them with everyone. Cassie hadn’t met Hazel, but she could tell Heath was gone over her. She hoped it all worked out for them, and she really hoped Heath’s detective friend, Jed Beckham, didn’t reappear like he had yesterday. She’d had to remind herself time and again over the past three months to forget about that handsome jerk of a detective, but seeing him yesterday reminded her of the pull he had all over again. When he’d been around yesterday afternoon, she’d spent the time avoiding his beautiful blue eyes and trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
The Strong Family Romance Collection Page 48