A Father in the Making

by Marta Perry

  Her cheeks were warm because she’d been bending over, that was all. She concentrated on Emilie, aware of Mitch’s voice as he exchanged greetings with what sounded like everyone in the place. With any luck, he’d be joining one of them for lunch.

  Apparently luck didn’t have anything to do with it. Mitch made his way, unhurriedly, to her table. The chair scraped, and he sat down across from her as if they’d had a lunch date.

  “Somehow I thought I’d find you here.” He bent to greet Emilie, who responded with a crow of delight when he tickled her.

  “Probably because I mentioned yesterday I wanted to come back for the chicken-dumpling soup.” And a private conversation with Cassie.

  His smile told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Good day for it.” He waved across the room to Heather. “Another bowl of the chicken soup here, Heather.”

  The girl nodded. “You bet, Chief.”

  “You guessed—” At his warning glance she lowered her voice. “You guessed I wanted to talk with Cassie myself. I’d rather do it in private.”

  “You mean without me around.” His face kept its relaxed expression, probably for the benefit of anyone who might be watching, but his eyes turned to stone. “I have an interest in this, remember?”

  “I remember.” She could so easily see his side of it. If he was innocent, naturally he’d want to protect himself by knowing anything she found out. Unfortunately, if he was guilty, the same thing applied.

  “Then you can understand why I’m here.” His square jaw seemed carved from granite.

  “All right.” She didn’t have much choice. She needed his cooperation, whether she liked it or not. “Let me bring it up.”

  “Go ahead. But don’t be surprised if she can’t tell you much. If you haven’t been here during tourist season, you can’t imagine how crazy it is.”

  The soup arrived in huge, steaming pottery bowls. Heather put down a basket of freshly baked rolls nestled in a blue-checked napkin. She looked from Anne to Mitch.

  “Anything else I can get you? Chief, don’t you want a sandwich with that? Cassie made pulled pork barbecue.”

  “I’m saving room for a dumpling. You’ve got one back there with my name on it, haven’t you?”

  “Sure thing.” Heather smiled, touching one earring with a plum-colored nail.

  Anne could so easily imagine Mitch having this conversation with Tina. Could imagine this sort of encounter, day after day, leading to an invitation, then to an involvement he might later regret.

  “Sounds as if you’ve been waiting on the chief for a long time.” That probably wasn’t the most tactful way into what she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t think of a better one.

  Heather shrugged. “Almost a year I’ve been working here. You get to know the regulars, believe me.” The girl frowned at the sound of a persistent bell from the kitchen, then spun away, bluebird-trimmed apron rustling.

  “I could have told you Heather didn’t work here when Tina did.”

  “I’d rather find out for myself.”

  He shrugged. “I figured.” He dipped the spoon into his soup.

  “Attorneys prefer to ask the questions.” She took a spoonful, and rich chicken flavor exploded in her mouth, chasing away the chill. “It’s in my blood, I’m afraid.”

  “A whole family of lawyers?” He sounded as if that were the worst fate he could imagine.

  “Just my father. He has a corporate practice in Hartford.”

  “Your mother’s not a lawyer, too?”

  She tried to imagine her mother doing anything so mundane, and failed. “My mother’s social life keeps her occupied. And I don’t have any brothers or sisters.” The last thing she wanted to discuss right now was her parents. Their reaction to Emilie had been predictable, but it had still hurt. “What about you? Big family?”

  She’d thought the expression in his eyes chilly before;

  now it had frozen. “One brother. My mother died when I was in high school. My father was long gone by then.”

  “I’m sorry.” She suspected pain moved behind the mask he wore, but he’d never show it, not to her, probably not to anyone. “That must have made you and your brother very close.”

  He shrugged. “Link works heavy construction, mostly out west. He hasn’t been back to Bedford Creek in a couple of years.”

  Anne’s heart constricted. Loneliness. She recognized the symptoms. He probably wouldn’t believe her if she said she knew how he felt. He probably wouldn’t believe having wealthy parents who’d stayed married to each other didn’t guarantee a happy family life. Didn’t guarantee you wouldn’t marry someone just like them. She felt the familiar regret that her marriage hadn’t been...more, somehow. Deeper.

  By the time their apple dumplings arrived, most of the crowd had filtered out of the café. Anne took one look at the immense dumpling, served in its own small iron skillet, and swallowed hard.

  Her face must have given her away, because Mitch chuckled. “Somebody should have warned you, I guess. But you have to make a stab at it, because Cassie will be out to see how you like it.”

  “That’s more dessert than I eat in a month.”

  Mitch plunged his fork into flaky pastry, and apple syrup spurted out, mixing with the mound of whipped cream. “Live dangerously. It’s worth it.”

  The first taste melted in her mouth. By the time Cassie appeared, ready to accept applause, Anne had made a respectable dent in the dumpling.

  “Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” She leaned back in her chair. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  Cassie’s thin lips creased in what might have been a smile. “I’ll wrap it up for you. You can finish it later.”

  There was nothing to do but smile and nod. “I’ll do that. It was just as good as I’d heard it was.”

  Cassie smoothed her apron. “You hear that from Mitch?”

  “It might have been Mitch who told me. Or it might have been a friend of mine who used to work here. Maybe you remember her. Tina Mallory?”

  Cassie frowned. “Little bit of a thing? Big blue eyes?”

  “Yes, that’s Tina.” She held her breath. Was she about to find out something?

  “Let’s see...it wasn’t this past season. One before, I guess. Good waitress. What’s she up to now?”

  “I’m afraid she passed away a few months ago.”

  “A kid like that?” Cassie shook her head. “You just never know, do you? I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “I’d hoped to meet her friends while I’m here in Bedford Creek. Do you know of anyone she was especially close to...a boyfriend, maybe?”

  The woman sniffed. “Got enough to do without keeping track of the summer help’s boyfriends, believe me. Can’t recall anybody offhand. She came in, did her job, got along with the customers. None of my business who she hung out with after work.”

  Anne’s hope shriveled with each word. It looked as if this would be a dead end, like so much about Tina. “If you think of anyone, would you let me know?”

  “If I do.”

  Cassie’s tone said she doubted it. Apparently Tina had passed through Cassie’s life without leaving a trace.

  She picked up the dumpling pans. “I’ll put this in a box for you.”

  When she’d gone, Anne met Mitch’s gaze. His look was unexpectedly sympathetic.

  “Sorry. I know you hoped she’d remember something.”

  “It’s a small town. I thought everyone knew everything in a small town.”

  “They do, believe me.” There was an edge to Mitch’s words. “But that’s only regarding the other locals. When the town is flooded with tourists and summer help, you might not notice your best friend on the street.”

  She still found that hard to picture, but apparently it was true. If so, the chances of finding anyone who remembered
anything about Tina had diminished.

  “You think I ought to give up.” That was what he had in mind; she was sure of it.

  He shrugged. “I think you ought to leave it to me. But I suspect you’re not going to.”

  “If you—” She stopped, realizing Cassie had emerged from the kitchen with the leftover dumpling.

  “There you go.” Cassie deposited the package in front of her, patting it as if it were a pet. “And I thought of something. About that friend of yours.”

  Anne struggled to keep the eagerness from her voice. “Did you remember someone who knew her?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Seems to me she roomed with another one of the summer waitresses—girl named Marcy Brown.”

  “Is she here?”

  Cassie shook her head almost before the words were out of her mouth. “Summer help, that’s all she was. Went off at the end of the season. None of those girls stick around once the season’s over. No jobs for them.”

  Anne tried to swallow her disappointment. “Do you know where she went from here?”

  “Seems to me she was headed someplace warm for the winter. Key West, I think it was.” Cassie’s expression showed disapproval. “Those kids...they just flit from place to place. I might have an address for her, if I had to send her last check, but she’s probably long gone by now.”

  “I’d like to have it just the same, if you can find it.”

  The woman nodded. “See what I can do, when I have the time.” She frowned. “There was one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Seems to me both those girls got into that singles group Pastor Richie had at Grace Church. Maybe someone there kept up with her.”

  “Thank you.” She was past worrying about what Cassie thought of her interest. “I appreciate it.”

  It was something. Not much, but a little something that just might lead somewhere.

  And as for the frown in Mitch’s brown eyes...well, it wasn’t unexpected, was it. She’d just have to live with his disapproval, because it probably wouldn’t change.

  * * *

  So, it looked as if he’d been wrong about how helpful Cassie might be. But then, Mitch had been wrong about a lot of things since the moment Anne walked into his life.

  Those blue eyes of hers were intent on her prize. This lead to Tina’s friend would encourage her. If he didn’t get control of her search, she’d be chasing it all over Bedford Creek. And sooner or later someone would find out why.

  “I suppose you want to rush off to Pastor Richie right now.”

  “Maybe not this precise moment. But it is a lead to Tina’s roommate.”

  “That was eighteen months ago. The chance that Pastor Richie knows where to find this Marcy Brown isn’t very great.”

  “I have to try.”

  A stubborn look firmed her mouth, and he suppressed the urge to smooth it away with his finger. That would really be counterproductive.

  “Look, I know Simon Richie. Why don’t you let me talk to him?”

  “How do you know him?”

  She’d probably think this coincidence suspicious, but it couldn’t be helped. “Because I go to Grace Church.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Did you also belong to the singles group?”

  “No.” People went to that, for the most part, because they wanted a social life. He didn’t, so he didn’t attend. “But I know Simon Richie pretty well. The questions would come better from me.”

  “I’d rather ask him myself.”

  Somehow this sounded familiar. If Anne Morden ever depended on anybody but herself, he had yet to see it.

  “Look, if you go walking into Simon’s office asking about this girl, it’s going to make people wonder.”

  “I don’t see why. I’ll just say I’m a friend of a friend.”

  She clearly still didn’t see the rampant curiosity with which people in town surveyed her every move.

  “Let me find a less obvious way of going about it.”

  She seemed to be weighing that, and for a moment he thought she’d agree.

  “Grace Church...isn’t that where Kate belongs?”

  He nodded.

  “Kate’s invited me to go to a church potluck supper with her tonight. I’m sure I’ll have a chance to meet your Pastor Richie. I can bring up the subject casually.”

  He pictured her mentioning it in front of several of the most notorious gossips in town. She was determined, so there was only one thing he could do.

  “Fine.” He smiled. “I’ll pick you up at ten to six, then.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t Kate tell you? We often go to the church suppers together.” Sometimes, anyway.

  He was doing what he had to. If he expected to stay in control of this situation, he needed to keep tabs on Anne.

  Unfortunately, he had a strong suspicion he had another motivation.

  * * *

  “Well, don’t you look nice.” Kate turned from the kitchen stove to assess Anne and Emilie. “Both of you.”

  Anne brushed one hand down the soft wool of her emerald skirt. It matched the green of Emilie’s jumper, so she’d decided to wear it. “Is it too dressy?”

  Kate shook her head. “You look as pretty as a picture. I’m sure Mitch will say the same.”

  Oh, dear. There it was again: Kate’s insistence on pairing the two of them up like bookends.

  When she’d returned to the house earlier and told Kate they were going to the potluck, the elderly woman had been delighted. Anne had tried to dissuade Kate’s all-too-obvious matchmaking, to no avail.

  Well, what should she say? That Mitch wouldn’t care how she looked? That the only reason he’d decided to take them to the potluck was to keep her from blurting out something indiscreet to Pastor Richie? It was only too obvious that that was behind his sudden desire to go with them.

  There wasn’t a thing she could do about Kate’s misapprehension, so she might just as well change the subject. “Are you sure I can’t fix something? Or stop at the bakery and buy a cake?”

  “Goodness, no. There’ll be more food than we can eat in a week, as it is. Everyone brings way too much stuff to these suppers.”

  Anne had to smile. Kate’s righteous assertion was undercut by the fact that she’d prepared an enormous chicken-and-broccoli casserole, and even now was putting a pumpkin pie into her picnic basket.

  “You don’t think you’re taking quite a bit yourself?”

  “This little thing? Why, Mitch will probably eat half my casserole himself. That boy does love home cooking...probably because his mother never had time to cook much for them.” Kate’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “You do know about Mitch’s family, don’t you?”

  “I know his mother died when he was in high school.” She held Emilie a little closer.

  “Well, his father had left before that. Poor woman worked to take care of those two boys. I’m sure no one could blame her if she wasn’t there to cook supper every night. Or if she went out now and then, just to cheer herself up.” Kate yanked open a drawer, muttering to herself about potholders.

  Reading between the lines, it sounded as if Mitch had pretty much raised himself. Probably that, along with the military, had made him the person he was.

  And what kind of person was that? Anne stared out the window above the sink, where dusk had begun to close in on Kate’s terraced hillside garden. A man who’d buried his emotions—that’s what she’d thought the first time she’d seen him, and nothing had changed her mind about that. A man who had to be in control, whatever the situation.

  That might make him a good cop. But it wasn’t a quality, given her strong independent streak, that she’d ever found appealing in a man. Besides, she wasn’t interested. In future, her family would consist of Emilie and he
r, that was all.

  She’d told herself she could ignore the attraction she felt for Mitch. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working. That attraction kept popping to the surface every time they were together.

  Well, if she couldn’t ignore it, she could at least control it. She’d remind herself twenty times a day, if she had to, that he wasn’t the kind of man for her, even without the complication of Emilie’s parentage.

  The doorbell rang. Kate, her hands full of casserole, nodded toward the front hallway. “Would you mind getting that, dear? It’ll be Mitch, I’m sure.”

  “Of course.” Carrying Emilie, she walked down the hall. This was a good chance to test her resolution. She swung open the door.

  “Come in, please. Kate’s almost ready.”

  Mitch stepped into the hallway, seeming to fill it. “Hey, there, Miss Emilie, are you ready to go to church?”

  Emilie bounced and held out her arms to him.

  “Let me take her.”

  Anne started to turn away just as he reached for the baby, and his hands clasped her arms instead. For a moment they stood touching, the baby between them.

  Mitch’s large hands tightened, their warmth penetrating the soft wool of her sweater. They were so close that she could see the network of lines at the corners of his eyes, the sweep of his dark lashes, a tiny scar at the corner of his mouth. Those chocolate eyes fixed on hers, and she could hear his breathing quicken. She had to fight the urge to step forward, right into his arms.

  She took a deep breath, released Emilie to him, and stepped back. “I’ll just get our coats.” Astonishing, that her voice could sound so calm.

  Obviously reminding herself twenty times a day wasn’t going to be enough.

  Chapter 6

  It was a good thing Anne had pulled away when she did, Mitch decided as he drove them to the church. A very good thing. Because if she hadn’t, he just might have kissed her.

  Disaster—that’s what it would have been, plain and simple. The woman already suspected him of seducing a young girl and leaving her pregnant. What would she think of him if he tried to kiss her?