Susan Sleeman - Christmas Hideout

But could she be believed? His first instinct was to trust her. She seemed too upset to be making this up. Didn’t matter. He was a sworn officer of the law, and he couldn’t just take her word for it. “Do you have any identification?”

She shook her head and bit her full bottom lip. It was then that he allowed himself to take a good look at her. She had big icy-blue eyes still wide with fear. High cheeks. Wavy blond hair pulled back into a bun, but strands had fallen free and lay softly against her creamy skin. In a word, beautiful, and something about her got to him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Before he communicated his attraction, he forced his gaze from her face and it landed on the child all snuggled up to her mother. She had blond curls and an angelic face that people must fawn over.

“Are you arresting me?” Nicole met his gaze and locked on.

Her vulnerability pulled at him, triggering something deep inside. She broke into the cabin, had a story to tell and he what? He simply believed her story because she was pretty?

Right. He could just hear his sheriff father lecturing him about this kind of behavior. Matt had a job to do here. To figure out if she was telling the truth. But he clearly didn’t need to keep his weapon out.

He holstered it. “Do you know your car’s license plate number?”

“Yes! Yes! Perfect. You can check that out, can’t you?” She flashed a quick smile—her way of saying thanks, he supposed—and rattled off the numbers. “It’s a Honda Accord. White. 1996.”

“Registered in Texas?”

She nodded.

“And what’s your date of birth?” he asked, now easily sliding into his deputy role.

She quickly provided the information, and he didn’t even have to calculate her age. They were born the same year, making her thirty-two.

He inserted the earbud for his radio in his ear. In his mic, he repeated the information she’d provided and requested a DMV lookup, along with information from the associated driver’s license and details of the restraining order. If he was in his car, he could handle all of this himself, including seeing her photo on her driver’s license, but he wouldn’t leave her here and go back to his car.

While he waited for dispatch to retrieve the information, he turned his attention back to Nicole. “Tell me about the warning you received tonight.”

She took a deep breath and shifted to face him. “He left a big knife—a foot long and like the ones I know he uses for hunting. He stabbed it into a picture of me on my countertop made of butcher block. No written message. Just that horrible, horrible terrifying visual message while Emilie was sleeping in the next room. I panicked. Packed our bags, grabbed Emilie and fled.” She flashed her gaze filled with shock and disbelief up to his.

Whatever had happened had affected her deeply. Despite his desire to remain impartial, his protective instinct rose up. He tried to tamp it down. It was awful early in their conversation to believe she needed protection of any sort, but even a hint of a woman in physical danger riled him to no end, and he couldn’t just push it away.

“Did you call the police?” he asked.

She shook her head and lifted her chin in a defiant tilt. “What good would it do? I called so many times in the past, and they didn’t help. His name is Grady Harmon. He’s a police officer, and by the time his fellow cops show up, he’s long gone, and they don’t believe me.”

Say what? The guy was a law enforcement officer? That put a different spin on things.

Matt didn’t automatically assume all cops were good people. They weren’t, just like anyone in any other profession, but whether or not he was good, officers initially took the side of one of their brothers until facts proved otherwise. Might not be the right response, but they needed to depend on their fellow officers having their backs. Sometimes they took it too far, though, and protected their own when they didn’t deserve it.

She sighed. “You’d think they’d realize I had to have proof of his actions to get the restraining order, but they don’t seem to take that into account.”

“I’m not saying you don’t have proof, but I do know that judges these days will most always side with the victim. Officers know this and can be skeptical.”

“You, too, I see.” Her eyes darkened to the shade of a new pair of Wranglers, and she glared at him.

Even with her tense expression, she touched something inside him, and he wanted to help her. “I’m not saying they’re right or wrong. I’m just saying the burden of proof for a restraining order is lighter than most legal proceedings.”

“He really has been stalking me.” She raised her shoulders into a hard line. “I don’t lie. It goes against my Christian beliefs.”

She was a Christian. Of course, anyone could claim to be a believer. And believers lied at times, too. Matt knew that from his job. People lied to officers all the time. People he saw in church on Sunday.

Sure, he wanted to take her word at face value—wanted to believe her, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. He was a deputy, and that meant checking facts and living by those facts. Not the word of a woman who piqued his interest. Actually, just the opposite.

Because he was attracted to her, he would do even more digging before buying into her story. Still, she could be assured if there was any hint of danger, he’d step up and make sure they were safe. No way he’d leave them to the mercies of a dangerous stalker. No way.

Nicole had never grilled a steak, but she felt like a burnt and crispy slab of meat after this deputy’s many questions. He stood there staring at her. Matt McKade, he’d said. One hand on a trim waist. One resting on the butt of his gun. A power play? Maybe. Or was he used to relaxing his hand that way? Grady had often done that.

Still, when Matt glanced at Emilie, she caught a hint of compassion in eyes that had burrowed right through her. To be fair to him, she had broken the law, but she had no choice. Okay fine, she might have stayed in the car, but it was just too cold for Emilie, and Nicole wasn’t prepared with warm blankets. She’d searched for nearby houses with lights on, but she’d seen nothing. Then she spotted the Trails End dude ranch sign and the line of empty rental cabins. For her daughter’s sake, she’d wiggled the window hard until the catch gave way and she could creep inside. As she told the deputy, she felt bad for doing so and never would have broken in if Emilie’s life wasn’t in jeopardy. She wouldn’t apologize or defend herself again. Either this guy believed her, or he didn’t. She’d just have to wait for his verdict.

He jerked his head away and shook it. Why, she had no idea.

“Back to when you reported violations of the restraining order,” he suddenly said. “Are you getting a lack of cooperation from everyone in the department?”

She took a breath and warned herself to be patient and not snap at him when he was just doing his job. “I’ve only interacted with the responding officers. I have no idea who else in his department even knows about this.”

Emilie stirred in Nicole’s arms. Guilt was eating at Nicole for putting her child in this precarious situation, so she started rocking to keep her daughter from waking. How could she have done this to Emilie? Tears burned the back of Nicole’s eyes, but she fought hard against them. Emilie needed her to stay strong and fix this, not blubber like a baby.

She met Matt’s gaze, and even when his eyes held a challenge, she didn’t look away. “One thing I do know is I can’t count on the police. I have to take care of myself and Emilie. I’ve heard stories about women dying at the hands of their stalkers. I won’t let that happen to me or my child.”