Sweet Devotion

Amber gave the girl what she hoped was a smile, then quickly read the remaining pages of the book. She closed it and hopped up while the children applauded. Rubbing her hands against her apron she asked, “Who’d like a cookie now?”

Every child’s hand shot straight up. Amber lifted the napkin from the basket and carefully handed the cookie basket to Sutton. “Do you know what to do?”

Sutton nodded. “Everybody gets one cookie. At the end, I get two.”

“That’s right,” Amber said. Taking the little girl’s hand in her own, Amber led her to the front row of children eagerly awaiting the treat. Then she excused herself.

“Amber?”

“Miss Montgomery?”

Amber ignored both Marnie and the police chief. She headed straight to the rest room, a place to which she knew he wouldn’t follow her.

She closed herself behind a stall and leaned her head against the door.

Breathe, she coached herself. Breathe.

Her pulse pounded. She felt as if she’d been dumped into the middle of a marathon.

She tried to convince herself that she was in no physical danger from him, that she’d simply overreacted. But she couldn’t get her heartbeat to slow down, or her fear to subside.

A knock on the stall door made her jump. “Who is it?”

“Amber, are you okay?” Marnie asked through the door. “What happened?”

“I’m…fine,” she said, a hitch in her voice.

“You don’t sound fine,” Marnie persisted. “And you looked like you were about to faint out there. Would you like some water?”

“No, thank you.”

For several minutes, the only sound in the rest room was Amber’s breathing. Amber’s feet hadn’t moved from the edge of the door where she stood.

“Amber, are you okay? Come out. Please.”

“I will.” But she made no move to unlatch the door.

Marnie knocked again. “Amber?”

Amber closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she’d been taught, tried to recall some of the deep-breathing exercises she’d learned.

“Amber, you’re scaring me.”

She forced herself to face her fear, and slid the lock free.

Marnie reached for her hands and clasped them in her own. “You’re freezing.”

Amber tried to tug her hands free. “I’m fine. Really. I just…” She shrugged, unable to finish the explanation, sure that Marnie with her perfect life and perfect job wouldn’t be able to understand her problem, let alone identify with it.

Marnie pulled Amber toward the sink. She ran cool water and made a compress from paper towels that she then pressed on Amber’s forehead. Then she ran warm water and plunged Amber’s hands under the steady stream. She rubbed Amber’s hands, getting the blood circulating again.

“Does that feel better?”

Amber nodded, and Marnie handed her a paper towel to dry her hands.

“You want to tell me what’s going on? You ran out of there like something was on fire.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Amber said automatically.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d eventually believe it.

For a moment, it seemed as if Marnie would let it go….

“I want you to know I care about you, Amber. You do good work here with the kids. I’d hate to lose you.”

“What makes you think I’m going somewhere?”

Marnie stilled her hands and stared at Amber. “I see it in your eyes. You look scared and ready to bolt.” Then their gazes connected in the mirror above the sink. “What can I do to help you?”

Amber shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I think I know what’s wrong.”

“I doubt it,” Amber said.

“Yes, Amber. You see, it takes one to know one.”

“Is the Cookie Lady coming back?”

Paul glanced at one of the aides who’d stepped in after both Amber and Marnie Shepherd disappeared.

“I’m sure she will,” he told the child.

“Hey, Chief Evans, can I take a ride in your police car?”

“Maybe next time, Max.” He bit back a smile at the boy’s excited grin.

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe not that soon.”

“Okay,” the boy said, confident that the promise extracted from the police chief would eventually be fulfilled.

Sutton finished passing out the cookies and brought the basket to the front of the Story Corner. She placed her two cookies on a paper napkin, then carefully folded the two cloth napkins, bringing as much care to the job as Amber would have, as she placed them inside the basket. She then put the basket on the table next to Amber’s rocker.

“I was the helper today, Daddy.”

Paul squatted down and gave her a hug. “And it looks to me like you did a terrific job.”

“I get two cookies.” She offered him one. “Would you like this one?”

Paul took a bite and munched on it, savoring every bite.

Wow. No wonder Caleb was so opposed to sharing. He glanced in the direction of the rest rooms.

His radio squawked. Paul pressed the speaker button at his shoulder unit. “Go ahead.”

“Chief, we’ve got a domestic in progress on Patterson in East Wayside.”

“On the way,” Paul answered.

“Daddy, what’s a domestic?”

“Domestic disturbance. Right, Chief?” Max piped up. “Somebody’s hitting somebody.”

Had it been any other kid, Paul would have been disturbed at the child’s knowledge. But Max Young came from a long line of law enforcement officers. “Right, Max.”

With a final glance toward the place Amber had skittered off to, Paul said farewell to the children and to the aide. He hugged Sutton and placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Jonathan, who didn’t care for public displays of affection, edged closer to Paul. “You’ll catch ’em, right?”

“Catch who?”

Jonathan motioned for Paul to get closer. He leaned down and watched the boy look to his right and left. “The domestic disturbance. You’ll get the bad man, won’t you?”

Paul blinked, sudden moisture in his eyes. He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him close for a hug. “I’ll get ’em, Jon.”

Marnie peeked out the bathroom door. “He’s gone.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Marnie said. “That’s why we’ve been in here ten minutes.”

“I need to go.”

Marnie stopped Amber with a hand on her arm. “Whatever’s going on, Amber, I’m here for you and so is the Lord. I’m keeping you in my prayers.”

Amber opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then slipped from the rest room. Her Cookie Lady persona cloaked around her again, she bid farewell to the children, thanked Sutton for her help and got a huge hug in return.

Startled, Amber didn’t quite know what to do. Then she wrapped her arms around the girl, fusing both of them in the much-needed embrace. “You take good care now, okay?”

The little girl nodded. “I love you, Cookie Lady,” Sutton whispered in her ear.

Astounded, Amber blinked. When was the last time she’d gotten unconditional love? Swallowing hard, she smiled at the girl, tugged on a pigtail and hightailed it out of Sunshine and Rainbows.

Who knew delivering cookies and reading a story could be just as dangerous to her state of mind as catering a Wayside Revelers’ event?

When she got home, two messages awaited her.

She pressed the button on her answering machine, then tucked away the cookie basket and put the aprons in a laundry bin.

“Hi, Amber.” Haley’s voice rang out. “I was just checking in. I’ll try to catch you later. Wanted to ask you something.”

“More like checking up on me,” Amber said, as the machine beeped and forwarded to the next message.

“It’s me again,” Haley said. “Can you join us for dinner tonight? Matt’s going to grill.”

Amber’s mouth watered at the thought. She was a whiz in the kitchen, but Matt Brandon-Dumaine worked wonders on a barbecue grill. She could hear his voice in the background. Then Haley laughed on the recorder.

“Matt says to tell you if you come over he might, emphasis on the word might, share one of his secret barbecue sauce recipes with you. Steaks and chicken go on the grill at six. Hope you can make it.”

Amber smiled. She had to give it to Haley—her cousin never stopped trying to get her to live a little, to do some socializing in Wayside.

But Amber had no interest in developing any close ties beyond those she needed to make and maintain her catering company. She’d learned the hard way that friends and even family—Haley excepted, of course—couldn’t be counted on to be there in a pinch.

Just one person had Amber’s best interests at heart: Amber.

She could tolerate having dinner with Haley and Matt or a cup of coffee with Kara Spencer, her longtime friend and sometime therapist. Beyond that, Amber wasn’t interested. She couldn’t afford to be.

On her arrival at the barbecue, her eyebrows rose as she noted the number of cars in front of Matt and Haley’s large house. And the moment she walked into the living room, Amber realized she’d been set up. Not only that, but it was a setup operating on two fronts.

“Hi, Amber!”

Trapped.

Too late to turn and head back out the door.

“Hello, Caleb,” Amber greeted. “Funny seeing you here.”

She cast her eyes toward her cousin, who merely smiled sweetly as she presented a tray of almost depleted hors d’oeuvres to Cliff Baines, Reverend Cliff Baines, pastor of Haley’s church.

A single guy and the preacher. Great, Amber thought. Just great. Maybe instead of eating dessert, they could just get married.

“Why don’t you replenish that,” Amber suggested, as Haley came around with the tray. “I’ll help you,” Amber said, lacing her voice with sweetness.

Haley wasn’t fooled, though, as she followed Amber into her kitchen.

“You wouldn’t hurt a pregnant lady,” Haley said, as the swinging door closed behind the two of them. Outside on the deck, under an awning that protected him from the rain starting to fall, Matt waved.

Amber waved at Matt, but glared at her cousin. “I’m deciding,” she said. She glanced at Haley’s stomach. “You’re not even showing yet.”

Haley lifted her hands to frame her face. “But Matt says I have a glow.”

“You’re glowing, all right. This was no spur-of-the-moment cookout, Haley. You know I hate setups.”

“What setup? It’s just a few friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Amber said. “Your pastor and his wife to hound me about not going to church, and that puppy-dog-eyed policeman.”

“Cliff and Nancy are friends. They aren’t going to hound you or anybody else. And I’d hardly call Caleb puppy-dog-eyed.”

Amber reached for and munched on a celery stick filled with cream cheese and pimento. “He reminds me of the Ebb character from Classic TV.”

Haley shook her head. “You do need to get out more. Satellite TV is addling your brain. And for the record, Caleb is also a friend. You’re family. What’s wrong with having friends and family over for dinner?”

Amber knew she wouldn’t win this round with Haley, but she had a trump card. “When you’re eight months pregnant and craving a lemon tart or a honey pecan roll, I’m going to be all sold out.”

“That’s mean,” Haley said, but she laughed.

Matt came in, greeted Amber with a “Hey, cuz” as he leaned in to buss her on the cheek, then carried a bowl of something to the dining room.

Haley moved to follow him. “Come on. Let’s get these out to everyone.”

The doorbell rang as they reentered the living room.

“I’ll get it,” Matt said.

A moment later he opened the door to Paul Evans and Marnie Shepherd.

Amber saw the pair and let out a shaky breath. Is that what Marnie had meant in the rest room at Sunshine and Rainbows? That Amber didn’t have to fear Paul because Marnie knew him to be an honorable man. Her man? They’d never really talked about personal stuff, so Amber had no way of knowing whether Marnie was seeing the police chief.

“Did you make these?” Caleb asked.

“Huh?”

Amber took her eyes off the pair at the door, turning her attention to Caleb, who was enjoying a corn fritter. “No. Haley did. Or maybe Matt.”

“They’re probably not as good as yours.”

Amber looked at Caleb as if seeing him for the first time. “Excuse me.” She fled to the kitchen.

Caleb looked from her retreating back to his boss at the front door.

“He followed me home, can I keep him?” Marnie said with a smile, indicating the police chief.

“Come on in,” Matt invited.

She knew it was a little crazy but Amber had to talk to someone right now. From the wall phone in the kitchen, she called Kara—and got an answering machine.

She slammed the phone down, then tried a little deep breathing. If she kept jumping at shadows like this she’d be a basket case, not to mention right back where she’d been three years ago when she first came home to Wayside.

Leaning against the sink, she considered her options. She could escape out the sliding glass doors and go home, or she could face her fears and walk out into that living room.

The choice, to some degree, was taken away from her when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Wayside, Oregon’s Police Chief Paul Evans.

Amber gripped the edge of the sink behind her. She assessed all of him. Tonight he didn’t wear the uniform that marked him as an officer of the law. Gone also were the gun, club and cuffs. He stood at the door in jeans, work boots and a chambray shirt. He looked more like a cowboy than a cop.

He’s just a man, Amber coached herself. You’re in a safe place. He’s just a man.

“Hello, Miss Montgomery. I waited at the day care the other day to have a word with you, but I got a call and had to leave.”

She didn’t say anything.

He took three steps forward. Amber forced herself not to flinch.

He must have noticed something because his eyes narrowed a bit, and the smile on his mouth fell a notch, not enough that any casual observer would even notice. But Amber wasn’t a casual observer. Fight-or-flight kicked in. Since he now blocked both exits, it would have to be fight.

“I don’t see how that concerns me.” She deliberately aimed for belligerent and defensive.

“I want to apologize,” he said, glancing at her arm. “About the other night. I didn’t mean to grab you or to leave a bruise.”

“The complaint letters are already mailed.” That wasn’t true, but he didn’t have to know it.

“I mistook you for one of the Revelers.”

“So I look seventy years old?”

A smile tilted the corners of his mouth and a dimple showed. “Hardly, Miss Montgomery.”

She told herself she wasn’t going to be charmed by that smile, that her guard would remain up. But she did allow her body to loosen. She’d been holding herself so erect that she’d need a masseuse to get the knots out.

“Please let me finish. I also want to thank you for something,” he said.

“Thank me? For what?”

“For bringing a smile again to my daughter’s face.”

Chapter Five

“She’s a sweet girl.”

“But she’s been through a lot. It’s not very often I see her smile and giggle and act like the five-year-old she is.”

“What’s wrong with her?” The question was out before the impertinence of it dawned on Amber. She’d always been one to speak her mind first and worry about the consequences later. The cloud that shadowed his face told her without words that she’d done it again. “Never mind,” she added. “Don’t answer that. Your apology’s accepted, Chief Evans. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She gave him a wide berth as she moved toward the door leading back to the living room and the safety and comfort of other people.

Paul watched her retreat. He didn’t feel a need to bolster his own defense mechanisms in response to her anger; to his utter amazement, what he was feeling was a surge of protectiveness. But everything about Amber Montgomery said “woman with a past—avoid like the plague.”

He couldn’t determine if she didn’t like cops in general or if it was him in particular. Whatever the case, Amber brought out in him an interest that extended beyond the professional.

Since it clearly wasn’t reciprocated, he’d have to move on.

He hadn’t believed anyone existed who could draw the kids out of the shells in which they’d lived these past few years. But Amber Montgomery, the Cookie Lady, had done just that, not only for Sutton and Jonathan, but for him, as well.

Moving to Oregon, this little town in particular, had facilitated the healing process for the three of them. Paul hadn’t expected to find love in Wayside. But he’d hoped to find a woman with whom he was compatible, someone who could open her heart and accept not only him, but the two children he was now raising as his own.

Meanwhile, as another consideration, Marnie Shepherd was great with the kids. They liked her and the time they spent at Sunshine and Rainbows. Of course, no one would ever replace their mother, but Jonathan and Sutton still needed mothering. Every child did.

“Come on out here, Chief. The reverend is going to say grace, then we’ll eat.”

Paul joined the others in the living room where Cliff Baines waited to lead the dinner guests in prayer.

Looking around the assembled group, Paul realized just what Haley and Matt Brandon-Dumaine were up to. Their little soiree included two married couples and four singles who looked likely to be matched up. And if the episode with the cookies in the squad car served as an indicator, Caleb was well and truly infatuated with Amber Montgomery.

That meant Matt and Haley had paired him with Marnie for the evening. Paul wasn’t opposed to that. He enjoyed speaking with her at church. With her pretty smile, bubbly personality and her way with children, Marnie was an attractive woman. He’d never believed in love at first sight or any of that romantic nonsense. People got together because they were compatible. And Marnie got along well with Jonathan and Sutton. That was a good place to begin.

He moved into the small circle they’d formed for grace and looked at Marnie again. She smiled as she leaned over, telling Haley something. Paul nodded to himself, silently agreeing with the not-so-subtle matchmaking.

Maybe he would ask Marnie out to dinner and a movie. For some reason, though, Paul’s eye kept wandering to the aloof blonde with the haunted eyes. On the pretense of moving a chair, he shifted his position toward her.

Amber had been standing next to Matt, but when she bowed her head, a strong hand clasped hers. Her gaze flew to her right. Paul Evans stood there, tall, strong, his head bowed in prayer, his hand holding hers. Warmth suffused her.

She cleared her throat and tried to ease her hand from his. But he held on as the minister started to pray.

“Thank you, Lord, for bringing good friends together to share good times and good food. Amen.”

Amber opened one eye to peer at Cliff. That was it? That was his idea of grace? What about blessing the hands that prepared the meal, and three minutes of other supplications and prayer-time clichés? She knew them all.

“Amber?”

She glanced up at Paul. “Yes?” she said, surprised that he didn’t know you weren’t supposed to talk during a prayer or moment of silence.

“You can let my hand go now.”

Her gaze swept the room. The others, already having broken away from the prayer circle, headed toward the dining room. Amber’s face flamed. She dropped Paul’s hand and hastened a safe distance away.

“Steaks are ready!” Matt called out from the kitchen before she could think of a good reason to leave the dinner party.

Rain may have chased the cookout indoors, but it didn’t dampen the enthusiasm inside. Since the evening was supposed to be informal, everyone grabbed a plate and helped themselves from the feast Matt had laid out on the dining room table. Instead of settling there, Haley led the way back to the living room, where the guests spread out wherever they felt comfortable.

For Nancy Baines and Marnie, that meant the floor with the coffee table pressed into service.

Caleb perched on the edge of a chair near them. “I’ll grab some napkins for you ladies.”

When Paul and Cliff claimed two of the TV trays, Amber moved hers a bit away.

Matt got his wife situated and kissed her.

“Hey, none of that,” Amber said.

“Yeah,” Marnie added, laughing. “You’ll make the rest of us jealous.”

“I still have six months to go, but he acts as if delivery is imminent.”

“It is,” Matt said. “The time’s going to fly by.”

While Marnie and Nancy asked about baby names and nursery colors, Amber watched the byplay between Haley and Matt. A lot of love flowed between them. In their soft gazes swelling with shared affection and regard it was there for all the world to see.

Once upon a time she’d loved like that—or so she’d thought at the time. The love hadn’t flowed both ways, though, and Amber found out the hard way just how much she’d pay for that.

She supposed that some people truly were happy. But for her, love was a lie she’d learned to reject. She’d learned to simply live, day to day. And that suited her just fine.

Again and again, however, her gaze slipped to her cousin, and something akin to jealousy snipped at her, surprising her.

Keep it light, she coached herself. If she allowed what-if thoughts to intrude, she’d never make it through the evening.

For a few minutes, the four couples ate in companionable silence, the only accompaniment to their meal an instrumental CD playing in the background.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Matt,” Caleb said. “You have grilling skills.”

“He’s supposed to reveal the sauce recipe,” Amber said. “The promise of that is the only thing that lured me here tonight.”

“Ah,” Caleb said. “And here I thought it was the thrill of seeing me again.”

“In your dreams, Jenkins,” she said.

Caleb chuckled at that.

This she could handle, keeping it casual. The easy camaraderie in the room masked the awkwardness Amber felt around Paul.

Over a glass of cider, she studied the police chief. Without the uniform, he didn’t look nearly as intimidating as he had previously. Of course, he was still tall and broad-shouldered, but that made him look solid, the sort you could depend on in a crisis.

Like Kyle.

His gaze connected with hers. Caught staring, Amber blushed and averted her eyes. She cut a piece of steak, making careful work of slicing the meat just so. When she dared, she glanced up.

He was still looking at her. He smiled.

Amber’s pulse rate leaped.

“Anyone want more potatoes?” She hopped up from her seat.

“I do,” Paul said. “I’ll help you.”

“I’m closest,” Marnie said. “Sit down, both of you.”

Before either could object, Marnie disappeared and came back from the dining room with a tray of skewered roasted potatoes with red and green bell peppers. She offered the tray to everyone, sending—at least it seemed so to Amber—a brighter, longer smile in Chief Evans’s direction.

“So, what’s going on over at Community Christian these days?” Caleb asked.

“Camp. Camp and more camp,” Nancy said. “Forty-five kids this year. We have a good crop of seniors who’ve been with us and will serve as the teen counselors, but still I worry.”

“Don’t mind my wife,” Cliff said. “She’s the overall coordinator of our annual fall jamboree and things are just a little stressful right now.”

“That’s because it’s less than a week away, and I still have two weeks’ worth of work to do.”

Cliff placed a hand on her shoulder as he passed by with a refill from the dining room. “It all comes together beautifully each year. This year won’t be an exception.”

“We’re really blessed to have so many volunteers,” Haley said. “Everyone from the church pitches in and helps in some way. And with that community grant Kara got for us this year, we’re able to do a lot more.”

Amber let the conversation flow around her. She had nothing to say and wondered just how soon she could make her escape without seeming too obvious.