Safe In The Lawman's Arms

“Katy needs to be as far from the Cruises as possible.” Mike clenched his jaw.

“I mean, would you just walk away once she was placed with someone else?” Malory asked.

He sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Emotionally, I’d have to, but I’d still keep an eye on her … make sure she stayed hidden.”

She nodded. He’d made his decision before she’d ever arrived, and she wasn’t about to change his mind.

His dark eyes moved back up to meet hers, and for the first time his guard was dropped. This wasn’t the sheriff looking down at her, this was the man— strong, solid, uncertain. She had to stop herself from stepping closer still.

“I should, um—” She blushed. What she wanted right now was to slip into those muscular arms and rest her cheek against his chest. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay because she could help him, and he wouldn’t be facing this alone.

But that wasn’t true, and this was dangerous territory.

Safe in the

Lawman’s Arms

Patricia Johns

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PATRICIA JOHNS writes from northern Alberta, where she lives with her husband and son. The winters are long, cold and perfectly suited to novel writing. She has a BA in English Lit, and you can find her books in Mills & Boon’s Love Inspired and Mills & Boon Cherish lines.

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To my husband, who inspires my romantic side. After ten years of marriage, he still makes my heart race.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The small girl looked up at Lieutenant Mike Cruise with unblinking blue eyes. One sticky hand clutched his badge—the gold six-pointed star that identified him as a sheriff in Hope, Montana. Her flaxen hair was still tousled from sleep, since she wouldn’t let him comb it that morning, letting out a shriek as loud as a siren every time he came near her with a hairbrush.

He wasn’t used to combing the silken curls of little girls. He was used to pushing himself to the brink on the weights at the gym, patrolling the streets of Hope and breaking up fights outside the local saloon. He was not used to this—a tiny person with more grit than he saw in the toughest ranch hand drinking away his paycheck.

“Katherine.” Mike squatted down next to the little girl. “Can I have that, please?”

She shook her head, small pink lips pursed in disapproval.

“That isn’t a toy, Katherine.” He held out his hand, and the preschooler took a step back. “Please, give it to me.”

Again, she shook her head, then wiped her nose down her sleeve, leaving a snail trail across her cheek.

Yuck. He still had to figure out how to get this child into a bathtub.

“Katherine...” He reached to take the badge from her and she opened her mouth, her shrill wail mingling with the sound of the doorbell. He heaved a sigh and pushed himself to his feet, forfeiting his badge for the moment.

He needed a nanny. Today.

Katherine watched him distrustfully as he turned toward the front door, then stepped over a pot, a sieve, an empty plastic juice jug and a small teddy bear—her favorite toys of the day. He could feel her gaze boring into the back of his T-shirt. Katherine hadn’t warmed up to him and it had been two days already—two very long days.

Mike opened the door. A young woman stood on the stoop, her sandy blond hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail. A smattering of freckles across her nose brought out the chocolate brown of her eyes, making her look a little more girl-next-door than he’d been expecting of a nanny. She wore a loose pink tunic-style top and a pair of blue jeans.

“Hi,” Mike said. “Miss Smythe?”

“Call me Malory.” She shook his hand firmly. “Do you have my résumé?”

“Yes, the agency emailed it.” He stepped aside and gestured her in. She paused in the doorway and looked around the sitting room in silent appraisal, her gaze falling on little Katherine. She bent down to the girl’s level.

“Hello, sweetie,” she said quietly. “What’s your name?”

Katherine didn’t answer, big blue eyes fixed on Malory’s face dubiously.

“This is Katherine,” Mike said. “She’s three.”

“Katherine,” she said with a nod. “That’s a very big name for a very little girl. Can I call you Katy?”

A smile flickered at the corners of the toddler’s lips and she sidled closer to Malory, holding up Mike’s badge. Malory’s eyes widened in admiration and she let out an exaggerated gasp.

“What do you have there?” Malory asked, pointing at the badge. “Can I see it?”

Katy held out the badge and Malory took it, then looked up at Mike, one brow raised.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly, accepting the badge from her. “I’ve been trying to get that back all morning.”

“Thank you, Katy. That was nice of you,” Malory said and stood up.

He sighed. She hadn’t used any special trick. The little girl already seemed to like this woman better than she liked him.

“Why don’t you come through to the kitchen and I’ll get you a coffee while we talk,” Mike suggested, and he led the way through the living room, past the fireplace. This room used to be his sanctuary—big-screen TV, a wall of bookshelves, a comfortable leather couch with a footrest where he watched the game with friends. Now it was covered in Katy’s playthings, snacks and half-finished juice boxes. The kitchen was spacious, and so far still in one piece. He gestured to a stool at the counter and headed for the coffeemaker. Katy followed them, her gaze still locked on Malory.

“I just got custody of Katherine—” he paused, accepting the new name for the little girl “—Katy—two days ago. She’s my cousin’s daughter.”

“What happened to your cousin?” Malory asked.

“Prison.” He shot her a tight smile. Crystal had been involved in a fatal holdup and she’d been the only one they could pin to the scene, so she’d gotten twenty years without parole. “So Katy has been left to me, the only family member who is stable enough to care for a child.” The old uncertainty swam through his gut and he sighed. “I’m a cop, as you probably figured out.” He put his badge down on the counter with a click. “And I need a nanny for her.”

“Understandable.” Her tone was low and compassionate. “That’s a lot of adjustment for both of you.”

“Afraid so.” As he put the coffee on, she pulled a sheet of stickers out of her purse and stuck one on Katy’s nose. The girl giggled with delight—a sound he hadn’t heard from her yet.

Katy obviously needed more than he had to offer.

“If her mom is in prison now, she may not have gotten all the care she needed,” Malory said. “How is she doing socially?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I don’t know what normal looks like in a kid her age.”

“Is she potty trained?”

Mike shrugged. “Sort of. There have been a lot of accidents. I wasn’t sure how to tackle that.”

She passed Katy another sticker, and the little girl held out her hands for more.

“How is she at bedtime? Is she anxious, afraid?”

“It takes her a while to settle down,” he said. “I haven’t really been enforcing much of a bedtime. I’ve only had her for a couple of days, and I’ve let her stay up with me until she falls asleep around ten or eleven, and then I put her to bed.” He caught a look of faint disapproval crossing her face. “Not a long-term solution, I know.”

“She needs routine and a proper bedtime, but I understand you’ve been thrown into the deep end here.” She smiled sympathetically. “Preschoolers can be a handful at the best of times.”

“Thanks.” He was mildly relieved to be let off the hook. “Your references are excellent, but I’ve got to ask, what made you decide to work as a nanny?”

“I love kids.” She met his gaze with a comfortable smile.

“Why a live-in position?” he countered. “According to your résumé, you worked as a preschool teacher before this. In Billings. You running away from something?”

It was the cop in him. He couldn’t help it. He suspected the worst in everyone, it seemed, and this fresh-faced nanny was no exception.

Her earlier comfort evaporated and she smiled sadly. “Running? No. Walking briskly. I needed a change, and this seemed like a good way to get it.” She gave him a crooked smile. “I’d give you my criminal-record check if I didn’t think you’d already run one.”

Mike chuckled. She had him there. He’d run a thorough check on her the minute the agency gave him a name.

“So what are you walking briskly from?” he asked.

“Oh, it sounds so trite when I say it out loud. I was in a long-term relationship, and we broke up. I needed the change of scenery.”

It did sound a little trite, Mike had to admit, but it was believable.

“Mommy?” Katy said shyly, lifting a sticker up for Malory’s approval.

“At this age, every woman is Mommy,” Malory said, smiling apologetically. Then she bent down to inspect Katy’s sticker. “It’s lovely, Katy. But I’m not Mommy. I’m Nanny Mal.”

“Nanny Mal.” Katy’s face lit up. “I have a bear.”

“Will you show me?” Malory asked, and Katy ran from the room exuberantly.

“I haven’t seen her so happy,” Mike admitted. “She really seems to like you.”

“Was she living with her mother until recently?” Malory inquired.

“Yes. But it wasn’t a good situation. Her mother was in rehab for drug addiction, then relapsed and got involved a crime ring. If I’d known, I would have stepped in earlier, but my family doesn’t have a lot to do with me.”

“Because you’re a sheriff,” she concluded.

“Exactly. Social Services took Katy and brought her to me. Her mother gave up all rights to her. Signed her away.”

“That’s tragic.” Malory sighed. “Are you going to raise her as your own?”

The question didn’t surprise Mike, but he wasn’t entirely ready to answer it, either. He looked toward the preschooler running around the living room, pretending to search for the teddy bear that lay on the floor. She was sweet, but he knew that he was in over his head.

“I’m not planning on it,” he said quietly. “But while she’s with me, I’m going to need a hand.”

Malory didn’t answer, and when he glanced back at her, he found her gaze fixed on his face, her expression conflicted.

“You don’t like that,” he concluded.

“I’m not judging,” she said with a shake of her head. “I think you’re making the best decision you can.”

Mike shrugged. He wished he were equally convinced. He refused to let the girl go into the child welfare system, but he did hope that a family—far away from Katy’s own dogged beginnings—might want to adopt her.

“Well, I can pay what you’ve asked,” he said, his tone turning professional. “Katy seems to really like you. Is there anything else I should know?” He fixed her with an appraising stare.

“No, you have all the pertinent information.”

He paused for a moment, sorting through his impressions of her. She had more to her story, he could tell, but she came up clean in background check. Except for running a stop sign a few years ago, that was, but he could probably forgive her if that was the worst of her vices.

“When can you start?” he asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Great. You’re hired.”

A smile split her face, sparkling through her brown eyes. She was prettier than he’d been hoping for in a nanny. Too pretty to make this entirely comfortable. With a nod, he poured a cup of the promised coffee and slid it to her across the counter.

“Here you go,” he said. “Your room will be upstairs next to Katy’s bedroom. I hope that will be okay.”

“It’ll be great. Thank you very much, Sheriff—”

“Call me Mike.”

“Mike.” She shook his hand, and her soft fingers lingered in his grip. Then she pulled free and picked up her mug. “If it’s okay, I’ll get moved in today.”

* * *

SUNLIGHT SPILLED THROUGH the windowpane, pooling on the hardwood floor. Malory looked around the little bedroom. A handmade quilt covered a single bed. It looked like a rag quilt, composed of different fabrics with no apparent pattern, but it was cozy nonetheless. A whitewashed wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, a wicker chair angled next to it with a pile of fresh towels on the seat. A full-length mirror hung on one wall, and a twisted rag rug lay next to the bed, completing the homey decor.

The bedroom was on the second floor of the rambling old house. This property was large and rural, so the neighbors were out of sight. It was peaceful, and she paused to listen to a bird twittering happily outside the window that overlooked the spacious backyard. Two large trees provided shade, and an overrun flower garden lined one side of a low white picket fence.

The whole scene was almost impossibly perfect, Malory thought. It reminded her of the house she used to dream about when she was a little girl, sitting alone in the small apartment after school while she waited for her mother to finish work. She used to imagine the perfect home—bright, airy, cozy, well loved. In winter, she’d picture the fireplace, roaring with heat. In the summer, she’d daydream about the backyard, dappled in sunlight.

Malory unzipped her suitcase, pulling her mind back to the present. She had a job to do.

“Nanny Mal?”

She turned to see Katy in the doorway, her worn bear clutched in her grasp and a sieve planted on her head like a little army helmet.

“Hi, sweetie.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the solemn expression. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“My room is right next to yours,” Malory said. “And if you ever need me in the night, you can come right in, okay?”

Katy nodded, then crept closer to the suitcase and peered inside. Malory pulled out some clothes and brought them to the wardrobe.

“What’s this?” Katy asked, holding up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Malory winced. Leave it to a toddler to zero in on the most personal, well-hidden items first.

“Those are just medicine I take to keep me healthy.”

“Oh.”

“And what’s this?” Katy reached into the suitcase and pulled out an envelope.

“That’s—” Malory sighed and took the envelope from Katy’s fingers. “Never mind. It’s boring grown-up stuff. Here—” Malory pulled a coloring book out of her things and passed it to her little charge. “I brought you something. Do you want to look at the pictures?”

Katy happily sat down to peruse the coloring book, and Malory opened the envelope and peeked inside at the sonogram. It was from her first ultrasound a few months earlier and it showed something the shape of a bean. But that little bean was her baby. She put a hand over her belly, feeling the soft tickle of her baby’s movement. At a little over four months along, she’d started feeling it only recently.

She’d expected to look a lot more pregnant than she already did, but she could still hide her condition quite successfully with the right clothes. She appeared plumper than usual, and her waist was definitely bigger, but she didn’t have that revealing baby bump yet. When was that supposed to happen? She had no idea. Regardless, her new boss hadn’t noticed her pregnancy, and she was relieved for that small mercy. She needed this job, and she knew what would happen if she announced her condition at the outset—the same thing that happened to other pregnant nannies. She’d end up jobless. While she knew that she’d have to go back to live with her mother when the baby was due, she was hoping to put that off as long as possible.

“Would you like some crayons?” Malory scooped up a box of them from the bottom of her suitcase and passed them to Katy, who beamed with delight.

“The sun is green,” Katy announced, pulling out a crayon and setting to work with large, jerking scribbles. “Green, green, green.”

“Not yellow?” Malory asked.

“No. Green.”

Malory chuckled. Well, why not? Why not have a green sun? Why couldn’t Katy make her own rules?

This pregnancy hadn’t been part of the plan. Malory was one of those people who planned everything. She was cautious. She was responsible. If she colored a sun, it was yellow. And then her boyfriend, Steve, told her that he didn’t love her after all and took off with her best friend. Well, ex–best friend, if she was going to get technical. Two weeks later, Malory missed her period. And with everything that happened after she let Steve know... Well, she didn’t want to dwell on it. Regardless, that left the financial responsibilities squarely on her own shoulders.

A tap on the door pulled her attention away from unpacking. Mike stood in the doorway. He’d changed out of his jeans and T-shirt and now stood in full uniform. A dark green button-up shirt tugged ever so slightly around his muscled biceps, paired with khaki dress pants. His heavy belt held a variety of tools, including a gun. He crossed his arms over his chest, dark eyes moving over the room, then coming back to rest on her.

“I hope I’m not in the way,” he said, and she shook her head.

“Not in the least. I was just getting unpacked. Katy is coloring.”

An odd look came over his face. “You’re good, you know.”

“I know.” She laughed. “She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure we’ll get along very well. In fact—” Malory looked at her watch “—for her age, it’s just about nap time.”

“Nap time?” He frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That would explain how frazzled you look.” She laughed softly.

“I’m new at this,” he said.

“That isn’t a crime,” she reassured him. “When we get a good routine going, everything will fall into place. You’ll see.”

She wanted to make him feel better, but she had to wonder if there would be other surprises coming. Katy might have any number of issues to deal with because of her rocky beginnings, and they’d just have to deal with them as they arose. Regardless, a well-rested child would help any situation.

He nodded, an amused smile quirking his lips. “I’m counting on that.”

She reached over and brushed a curl off Katy’s forehead. “Katy, come with me. It’s time to lie down on your bed.”

“Why?”

“We’ll do this every day. We’ll have a rest, and then we can play again in a little while.”

“Nanny Mal?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Will you go away?”

Malory smiled sadly. This little girl had had too many goodbyes in her short life. “No, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Mommy went away.”

Malory held out a hand. “I know. But I’ll be here. I promise.”

Katy didn’t look convinced, but she consented to be led to Mike’s office which had been made into her bedroom, Mike trailing behind them. She crawled up onto the bed that was squeezed in next to the desk, popping a thumb into her mouth as she lay down on the pillow. Malory eased a blanket over the tiny form, and before she could stand, Katy put out one small hand and pressed it against Malory’s belly. Malory quickly moved Katy’s hand away and rose to her feet, hoping that Mike hadn’t noticed.

“After you rest, I have a fun game for us to play together,” Malory said quickly. “But a rest first, okay?”

“But I don’t want you to go.” Katy’s face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. “Don’t go...”

Malory sighed and sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ll stay for a few minutes, but only if you keep your eyes closed.”

Katy clamped a small hand over Malory’s fingers and obediently closed her eyes. This child was desperate for some stability, and for a little while, Malory could provide it. But Katy needed more than a nanny. She needed a permanent parent. Glancing back at Mike in the doorway, she gave him a reassuring smile.

Mike stood rigidly, his face a granite mask of professional reserve. He might as well have been at a crime scene for all the emotion he allowed to slip through.

“I thought I’d get a bit of work done at the station, if you’ve got everything under control,” he said. “Of course, I’ll start paying you today—”

“We’ll be fine.”

He gave a curt nod, then disappeared, his footsteps echoing along the hallway and down the stairs.

Malory turned her gaze back to Katy, whose eyes were open again, staring up at her with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “Close your eyes. I’m here.”

A couple of minutes later, the front door opened and shut, leaving them in quiet. Her new boss interested her, and she couldn’t help but wonder about the confident cop. He was handsome and intriguing—and while she tried to push that fact from her mind, she couldn’t quite banish it.

Rein it in, Mal, she chided herself silently, putting a hand over the flutter in her middle. You have someone else to worry about.

Chapter Two

Hope, Montana, was a small ranching community consisting of a few schools, a well-stocked grocery store and a Main Street that sported murals on the sides of buildings, celebrating the Old West history. A mayor with a flair for the dramatic a few years back had dubbed the place “the Town of a Thousand Murals.” There weren’t exactly a thousand, but Main Street certainly did give a history lesson. The Hope Sheriff’s Department was tucked between the local bank and a community hall, the side of which displayed an old-fashioned harvest with horse-drawn combines. The police station was a squat brick building, the office space cramped and out-of-date, and the parking lot only large enough to house the town’s cruisers.

A warm summer breeze pushed across the plains, carrying the scent of ripening wheat from the surrounding fields. Hot prairie sunshine beat down on the dusty streets, and as Mike pulled open the police-station door, he waved to an older woman walking her dog along the sidewalk.

“Hi there,” she called.

“Hi, Mrs. Hyatt,” he called back, then headed in. He knew almost everyone in this town. He’d been raised in Hope and now served on the police force. That meant that most of the people he protected remembered him as a gangly kid, and he doubted that he’d ever completely grown up in their eyes. He’d matured into a muscular man, over six feet tall, but for the older ladies around town, he’d never stop being “that Cruise boy.”

Mike blinked as his eyes adjusted from the afternoon sunlight. He pulled off his hat and held it under one arm as he headed inside.

“I thought you had the day off, Mike,” Corporal Tuck Leavitt commented, looking up from his desk. He had a phone pinched between his cheek and his shoulder, the hold music playing loud enough for Mike to hear it clearly. Tuck had a big brush of a blond mustache and gentle, soulful eyes.