Safe In The Lawman's Arms

Mike turned away as Tuck went about verifying the alibi for a suspect. Like any other law-enforcement officer, Mike procrastinated his paperwork until either it was due to be submitted or he needed to avoid feeling something. As an escape, work always seemed better than a bar. At least he could get something productive done, and nothing was quite so numbing as filing a report in triplicate.

He turned on his computer and flipped through some forms in his inbox. But his mind kept going back to Malory. She’d been there only a few hours, but she already had Katy relaxed and happy, the chaos of the past couple of days evaporating in her calm cheerfulness. There was something about that scene—so domestic and sweet. He couldn’t quite forget the solemn look on Katy’s face, her hands clutching Malory’s fingers as she lay on her bed.

“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Tuck hung up the phone and tossed a folder onto Mike’s desk. “Alibi is rock solid.”

“Figured.” Mike shuffled the folder into his pile of waiting paperwork, then turned back to his computer.

“So, you hired a nanny,” Tuck said with a grin. “And how is Katherine liking her?”

“She’s Katy now. Malory shortened it, and Katy seemed to like it better.”

“Huh. Sounds like it’s going well, then.”

Mike glanced up from the computer. “Can’t complain.”

“So what’s she like?”

“Too pretty,” Mike replied with a shrug. “I was hoping for a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and Mary Poppins.”

“A spoonful of sugar with masculine shoulders?” Tuck laughed.

“Too much to ask?” he said, grinning. “Instead, I got—” He stopped, not wanting to finish his thought—he’d only sound like a lout. She really was too pretty for comfort.

“So what are you doing here at the station?” Tuck asked.

“I don’t know. I feel like a third wheel back at the house. In a matter of days, my calm, relaxing home has turned into...” He shook his head, searching for the word.

“Family space? Toys everywhere, snacks, crumbs, noise.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He chuckled. “At least you know what I’m talking about.”

Tuck had a wife and four kids of his own.

“It’s not so bad,” Tuck replied. “You’ll never sleep in again, or stay up late, for that matter, but it has its payoffs, too.”

“This isn’t long-term,” Mike said. “I’ll sleep in again. Don’t worry about that. Anyway, Malory seems to have everything under control.”

“Yeah?” Tuck didn’t look convinced. “You still think you can say goodbye to that little sweetheart?”

“I’m just helping out until we can find a permanent solution,” Mike replied. “I told you that before. She’s better off away from the Cruise clan completely. This isn’t about how cute she is. This is about what’s best for her. You know what my family is like.”

Tuck shrugged. “Your call, buddy.”

The best decisions weren’t always the easiest. Mike came from a long line of career criminals—Crystal was falling pretty close to the tree with her jail time. For as long as Mike could remember, he’d been hearing about drug busts, arrests and attempts to escape the law—none of it from the side of the “good guys.” The best thing for little Katy was to have a fresh start with a new family, far from the Cruises—as he had. He’d walked away and started a new life for himself, fighting the crime that had left indelible marks upon his childhood.

Mike pulled up his email and scanned the latest police notices. At work he felt as though he had some control—maybe not as much as he’d like, but at least he had procedures to follow. There would always be crime, and there would always be paperwork, but at least there were laws to protect the innocent.

“Speaking of your family,” Tuck said. “Your dad is in town.”

“What?” Mike’s attention snapped back to his friend. “How do you know?”

“He started a scuffle of some sort in the Honky Tonk.”

Mike sighed. That sounded about right. “Where is he now?”

Tuck shook his head. “I don’t know. But I thought you might want a heads-up. He looks just the same—a bit older, maybe.”

Tuck would know. He and Mike had gone to high school together and joined the sheriff’s department in the same year. He was well aware of Mike’s family, especially his father.

Mike didn’t answer, forcing the anger back down. His father had been a real piece of work when Mike was growing up. He was a mean drunk and he was drunk a lot of the time. Mike didn’t have many happy family memories after his mother died. The day his father skipped the county was a good day in his books.

“He told me to give you a message.”

Mike raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “Oh?”

“He said to tell you that he’s home. That’s all.”

“For good?” Mike frowned.

“He didn’t say. I couldn’t hold him. He hadn’t done anything. In fact, he pulled an underage kid out of the bar when a fight broke out.”

Mike sighed. He hated it when his father did something honorable. It made it harder to mentally file him away.

“He hasn’t contacted you?” Tuck pressed.

“Nope. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Do you think he heard about your cousin’s daughter?”

Mike shrugged. “I have no idea, but my dad hasn’t had any use for me in ten years, so I highly doubt he’s back for a heartwarming reunion.”

Tuck shrugged. “Just passing along the message.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He pushed his rising discomfort down and focused on the paperwork in front of him. This was precisely why he was at the station—to bury himself in work. He had a feeling that whether he wanted it to or not, his life was about to tip upside down.

* * *

MALORY PUT THE LAST of the dishes into the dishwasher and closed it. Upstairs, Katy was already in bed for the night, her hair damp from her bath and her bear clutched in her arms. She’d refused to have her hair combed, and Malory hadn’t pressed the point. She’d fallen asleep almost immediately after Malory kissed her good-night, the exhaustion of the past few days catching up with her.

Outside the kitchen window, the evening sunlight slanted low and golden across the backyard. The oak tree cast a long shadow, leaves rustling in the warm summer wind. This was the kind of backyard that begged for a tire swing or sandbox.

The front door opened, then banged shut again, and Malory turned to see Mike ambling into the kitchen. He held a pizza box in one hand, balanced easily on his fingertips. His broad chest tapered down to a tight waist, circled by the heavy belt of his uniform. The badge glinted against his neatly ironed shirt in the soft light of the kitchen, and Malory had to glance away, afraid to seem unprofessional admiring her boss’s physique.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, sliding the pizza onto the counter.

“Katy’s already in bed,” she replied. “We had some grilled cheese for supper.”

“So not hungry?” He flipped open the lid to reveal a piping-hot pepperoni pie, crispy, greasy pepperoni slices buried in oozing mozzarella. She was always hungry these days, and she shot him a grin.

“Well, if you put it that way,” she said. “I wouldn’t turn it down.”

Mike went to the cupboard and returned with two plates. “I hope you didn’t mind me going to the station today.”

“That’s all right.”

“I thought it would be easier to have me out of the way.” He smiled uncertainly and pulled a piece of pizza from the rest of the pie, strings of cheese stretching to his plate. “Dig in.”

Malory followed suit, and after a big bite, she said, “I don’t need you out of the way, you know.”

“No? She seems happy with you.”

“My job is to help with child care. I do all the things you can’t do while you’re working, but I shouldn’t be taking over your role as her parent.”

“I’m not her father. I’m her second cousin,” he replied.

“And I’m not her mother. I’m paid to be here,” she countered. “You’re the closest thing she has to a dad right now.”

His dark eyes met hers for the first time. Then his gaze flickered toward the window. “I’m afraid to let her get attached to me.”

“Children need to bond to someone,” she replied quietly.

“She’s bonding to you.”

“Yes.” Malory sighed. She knew what he wanted—for her to take care of the emotional needs of the child so that when he had to let go of her, it would hurt less. She understood, even if she completely disagreed. “Kids need to know that they’re loved in the world, even if they have to say goodbye. Sometimes it’s good for them to see that they leave an empty space behind them and that it’s hard to let go of them.”

Mike didn’t answer for a moment, and she wondered if she’d overstepped. Then he sighed and met her gaze.

“I’m not great with kids.” His voice rumbled low. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“You’ve already started.” She gave him a smile. “And you’re doing just fine.”

He snorted and took a bite of pizza. For a few minutes they focused on eating. Malory polished off three pieces before she started to slow down. She remembered her pregnant friends saying that the baby was hungry, and it had seemed like a silly cover for eating like a teenager again. But now she understood. She was famished in a way she’d never experienced before, and it sure did feel as if the baby inside her was calling the shots.

“So, tell me about you,” he said, changing the subject. “Are you from Montana?”

“No, I’m from Baltimore.” She popped a stray piece of pepperoni into her mouth.

“This is a long way from home, then.”

“Home is relative.” She shrugged, and when he cast her a curious look, she conceded, “My mom and I moved around a lot.”

“Army?” he asked.

“No, just...moving.” They’d moved for so many reasons. Once to get away from a boyfriend who wouldn’t accept that her mother was done with him. Several times they’d moved for promising new relationships that hadn’t turned out to be as great as they’d seemed. Malory didn’t like to talk about the hard times she and her mother had had together, so she just offered a wan smile.

“That sounds kind of tough.”

“It was, so I’ve got a soft spot for kids who need stability.” She took another piece of pizza and piled the strings of cheese back on top of the slice.

“So live-in positions must be hard. Can’t settle too long anywhere,” he commented.

“Well, like I said, I needed the change of scenery.” She shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it. Besides, as an adult, I have control over my life. It’s an entirely different situation when you can choose to move instead of being dragged somewhere.”

He didn’t answer at first. His face was ruggedly handsome, his chin bristled with stubble. The lines around his dark eyes betrayed a sense of humor—the man had smiled a lot in his lifetime, even if he seemed serious now. He swallowed.

“I’ve lived in Hope since I was about ten,” he said. “I know pretty much everyone in this town—and being a sheriff, I probably know them better than they’d like.” He laughed.

“You’d think a place this small would be pretty quiet for law enforcement,” she said past a bite of pizza.

He shook his head. “It’s the opposite. Domestic disturbances, drunk and disorderlies, teenage house parties. It probably looks pretty quiet from the outside, but I get a bird’s-eye view of pretty much everything.”

She nodded. “You hold secrets.”

“Enough of them. But they hold enough of mine, too. I think that’s part of what makes a place home—swapped secrets.”

Malory arched a brow. “You don’t seem like you’d have too many skeletons.”

“Not too many personal ones,” he agreed. “But my family was an out-of-control lot. When I was growing up, the cops came by my place on a weekly basis. My mom died when I was young, and my dad was all I had. He was an alcoholic, and being part of the Cruise clan wasn’t a good thing, I can assure you.”

“You seem to have turned out all right, though.”

“I figured there had to be something more to life.”

“I get that.” She nodded slowly. “It wouldn’t be easy, though.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, seeming ready to drop the topic.

“So what did you do?”

“Hmm?” He wiped his lips with a napkin.

“How did you come out on top?”

“A cop took me under wing.”

“Oh?”

“As a kid, I started out as a troublemaker. I got into a lot of fights. Started most of them. But one day a cruiser dropped my dad off at home—I don’t remember what he’d done that time. The cop took one look at me, and he must have seen something worth saving, because he passed me his card and said I could call him if I wanted a job.”

“What kind of job?” she asked.

“Yard work. He was clearing out some trees on his property. So I called him, he put me to work and he paid me. That was the first time I worked for anything, and it felt good.”

She smiled. “And the rest is history?”

“Pretty much.” He chuckled. “Everyone in this town knows all about my humble beginnings, so it isn’t much of a secret. In fact, there are probably about six or seven old ladies quite willing to fill you in.”

“Well, you’re lucky,” she admitted. “But you don’t want to be that bighearted cop in Katy’s life and help turn things around for her?”

“I might be able to do that,” he agreed. “But you’re forgetting that her mother is in prison. What about when she wants to meet her mom? What about when her mother wants back into her life? What about cousins and uncles and aunts who are involved in crime? I’m not her only family member, and I wouldn’t be her only influence. If she stayed with me, how could I refuse to let her meet the rest of her relatives?”

Malory nodded. Much as she hated to admit it, Mike had a point. The situation was more complicated than it appeared at first glance. While Mike could easily draw some lines if he felt strongly enough, this wasn’t a cut-and-dried situation, and it wasn’t her decision to make.

“I think I understand,” she said with a nod.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Thanks.”

“But I stand by what I said—she needs to know that she matters and that when she does move on, she’ll be missed. That shows her that she has value. It might not be easy on you, but it’s better for her in the long run.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His tone turned gruff, and he cleared his throat. His walls had just gone back up again.

She could see a flicker of the real man underneath the tough shell, and he had a softer heart than he liked to let on.

“Thanks for the pizza,” she said, licking her fingertips. “That hit the spot.”

He grabbed the plates and proceeded to clean up around her. “Look, I, uh—” He glanced toward her, then turned back to the counter. “I don’t normally chatter like that.”

“Like what?” she asked curiously.

“Oh, family history, that kind of thing.” He turned to face her, and for the first time she saw uncertainty swimming in those dark eyes. He obviously wasn’t comfortable with vulnerability.

“It helps to understand the situation,” she assured him. “And you can trust me to be discreet.”

“Thanks.”

Malory looked toward the window, where the sun was lowering temptingly in the sky. The breeze would be cool by now, and she longed for some time to herself.

“I thought I’d go for a walk,” she said.

He nodded. “You can walk east, if you want to, but don’t head west. There are some dogs that are pretty protective of their property out that direction.”

His eyes met hers, warm and gentle, and her heart gave a lurch. If the situation were different, he’d be very easy to fall for.

She smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”

Mike was afraid to get attached to Katy, and she could understand that. She didn’t really want to take a walk so much as she wanted to get out of the house. Her handsome boss was just a little too attractive, a little too intriguing... She had to say goodbye in a few months, too, and while she knew she’d miss little Katy, she had no intention of making that harder than it needed to be by getting too close to Mike, too.

If nothing else, Malory was a consummate professional.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Mike stood in the kitchen, listening to the soft peals of laughter filtering through the ceiling above. Malory was getting Katy dressed, and he had to admit that there was something very sweet about the sound of a woman’s voice in the house.

“One...two...up we go!” Katy’s laughter followed.

Mike took another sip of aromatic black coffee and leaned with his backside against the counter. Tonight he’d work a late shift, so this morning was free. There’d been a time—about a week ago, to be exact—when that had meant sleeping in, watching a movie or working out at the gym. Now those things seemed out of place, somehow. Malory’s words from the evening before were still echoing through his mind. He had a responsibility to Katy, whether he thought he was good for the girl or not. He might be trying to keep an emotional distance, but Katy needed more from him. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to give it, but maybe he could put in some effort here.

The clatter of footsteps echoed down the staircase, and a moment later, a beaming little face appeared around the corner, blond curls in pigtails and a little pink dress ruffling out around her thin legs.

“Good morning, Katy,” Mike said.

“Hi.” She stared up at him, big blue eyes fixed on his face. “Do you have food?”

“Uh—” He looked over at the kitchen table, where a breakfast spread awaited. “Yes.”

Katy scampered over to a kitchen chair and climbed up, grabbing for the nearest box of cereal and shaking it exuberantly. Malory calmly rescued the box before it exploded, slipping it from her charge’s small fingers.

“Not like that,” Malory said. “I’ll pour you a bowl, okay? Sit down.”

Malory shot Mike a smile as she prepared Katy’s bowl of cornflakes. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable with this domestic scene in the middle of his house. “And you?”

“Like a baby.” She chuckled as she stretched forward to reach the pitcher.

“So I was thinking about what you said last night,” Mike said.

Katy wasn’t paying attention, her attention on the food in front of her. Malory glanced up, brown eyes meeting his.

“I thought I might take the two of you out for ice cream this afternoon.”

“Great idea,” Malory agreed. She tucked her sandy-blond hair behind one ear, exposing the creamy length of her neck. “What do you think of that, Katy? Should we go out for ice cream today?”

Katy nodded and picked up a spoon in one fist as Malory set the bowl in front of her. She dug in immediately, milk dribbling down her chin. Her excitement at the prospect of breakfast saddened him. Well-fed kids tended to be pickier eaters than Katy was, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many mornings she’d had the option of breakfast in her young life.

“How are you settling in?” Mike asked as Malory sat down opposite Katy and reached for her own cereal.

“This is a beautiful home. I’m very comfortable.” She poured a full bowl and added milk. “It can’t be easy to share your space, though.”

“Oh, I survive.” A smile played on his lips. Truth be told, he was having trouble thinking about anything more than the pretty nanny in his house. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo in the hallway that led away from the main bathroom. The sound of her cheerful tones filtered through the house in daylight, and all last night, he’d found himself uncomfortably aware that she slept down the hall.

“I took a shower late last night,” Malory said. “I was worried it might wake you. Maybe we could decide on a lights-out time so that you aren’t disturbed.”

Mike shook his head. “No, don’t worry about that. You’re no bother.”

Frankly, it wasn’t her problem if he couldn’t get his mind off her. She was just doing her job, and he’d have to practice a little more mental self-control. She was the kind of woman who would draw his eye in a social setting with her down-home good looks. If he saw her standing by the buns at a barbecue, her hair tucked behind her ear like that, he’d find his way over and introduce himself. But this was different—this was a professional line.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t have any photos around your home,” Malory said, her brown eyes meeting his. “Why is that?”

“I’ve mentioned the Cruise clan, haven’t I?” He gave her a wry smile.

“But what about your mom?” she asked. “Don’t you have pictures of her?”

He sighed. Having a woman living in his home seemed like a great idea when he needed round-the-clock child care for Katy, but right about now it made privacy a whole lot harder. “I said that my mom died, right?”

She nodded, chewing her cereal thoughtfully.

“I’m pretty sure she did, at least. I just don’t know when. She ran off and left us when I was young. I don’t have many memories of her, but all of them involved yelling and anger.”

“Oh...” Malory winced. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Haven’t you searched for her?”

“I have, but I couldn’t find anything. My dad told me she died, so maybe he was right. He had a pretty flexible relationship with the truth, so I didn’t know.” He stopped when he saw the sadness swimming through Malory’s eyes. “Sorry. This is why I don’t talk about these things.”

“Don’t you have anyone you trust?” she asked quietly.

“I trust the sheriff’s department. I trust the officers I work with day in and day out. I trust myself.”

She nodded slowly. “That’s something.” Malory passed Katy half a banana, her gaze flickering toward him, then back to her charge. “It seems a little empty in here without pictures.”

“I like it this way.” Irritation wormed its way up inside him. He had a painful past, and pictures only served to remind him of it. He preferred to live in the present, enjoy the security of the life he worked for.

Mike let his gaze roam around his kitchen and out into the slice of living room that was visible. He hadn’t actually intended to keep his home so free of pictures. One day, he always thought he’d have wedding photos, school pictures and family portraits of his own brood. But then he’d be able to protect them. He’d be able to put up a wall between them and the extended family that used and abused with apparent abandon.

Katy dropped the last of her banana into her bowl.

“You’re done?” Malory asked. “Okay. Can you wash your hands by yourself, or do you need my help?”

“I can do it!” Katy declared and clattered from the table.

“You think I’m heartless, don’t you?” Mike asked when they stood alone in the kitchen.

“No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re scarred.”

He shrugged, accepting her estimation. Maybe he was. “You do realize that as a law-enforcement officer, I can’t associate with known felons, right?”

“That makes sense.”

“And that includes pretty much all of my family.”

“Except Katy.”

“Yes, except Katy.” He grabbed the boxes of cereal and brought them to the cupboard. “You can’t really understand where I’m coming from unless you’ve experienced it.”

She was silent, and he glanced over to find her brown eyes trained on him. “And you don’t think that they can change?” she asked.

“Change?” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve been a sheriff for ten years and I’ve never seen anyone change.”

“You changed,” she countered.

“There are a few rescues,” he admitted. “I was one of them. But not many. Addiction is like that. It’s a vise grip.”

“I could see that.”

“And the lies...the constant lying. It gets to me. You know they’re lying to you and you know exactly why. Everyone has a reason to lie. In court it’s called motive.”

“What would they lie about?” she asked, her expression clouding. She shifted in her seat.

“Everything. Anything. Do you know what it’s like to not be able to trust anything someone tells you?”