Susan Mallery - The Best Bride

“How are you doing, sweets?” she asked softly.

“There was a clown and he made me this.” She picked up her giraffe. The rubber squeaked as she held it and she laughed. Bright blue eyes met her own. Sam’s eyes, she thought with regret. Mandy had her smile and her nose, but her eyes and the rest of her coloring was all Sam’s. It made it hard to forget her daughter’s father. But forget him, she would. She’d promised herself.

Mandy laughed and tossed the balloon animal in the air, then wiggled to sit back and look up at her. “I had a cupcake.”

“So I see.” She wiped at the frosting. “Sheriff Haynes said you spent the night at his house.”

Mandy nodded vigorously and grinned. “Louise made us another dinner. Then we had doughnuts for dessert.” She sounded faintly scandalized, but quite delighted. “She gave me a bath but he read me a story. About nines and their end.”

Elizabeth looked up at Travis who had returned to his perch on the windowsill. “Nines and their end?”

He cleared his throat. “You sort of had to be there. The San Francisco 49ers are looking for a decent tight end. I don’t have any children’s books in the house, so I read the sports page.”

She grinned. “Whatever works.”

“And we played with trains,” Mandy said.

“I keep them for my nephews,” Travis added helpfully.

“And I got a new nightgown with a bunny on the front from that nice lady, Becca.”

“Rebecca?”

She nodded. “And a pink toothbrush.”

Elizabeth brushed the blond hair out of her daughter’s eyes. “Sounds like you had a full evening. Did you sleep all right?”

Mandy nodded. “I had one bad dream, but I hugged Mr. Bear and told him what had happened, and he said he’d take care of me until you were all better. Are you all better, Mommy?”

Elizabeth swallowed hard. She’d never loved anyone as much as she loved this little girl. She squeezed her. “Almost, honey. The doctor is going to let me go home tomorrow morning.”

“Are we going to our house? The one with the bunnies?”

When she had accepted the job, Elizabeth had rented a house. While she’d stood in the kitchen and looked out at the backyard, she’d seen three rabbits scampering across the yard. She’d told Mandy about them and her daughter was very anxious to make their acquaintance. “No. We can’t move in there until October first. That’s about three more weeks.”

“So where are we going tomorrow?”

Elizabeth could feel Travis’s gaze on her. He’d asked the same question. She still didn’t have a decent answer. “We’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Mandy picked up her bear and slid off the bed. “Travis said we could go to the movies tonight, Mommy. He said we could have popcorn and hot dogs and candy.” Her body quivered with excitement. “And if I’m really good, I can stay up past my bedtime.”

Travis cleared his throat. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you that last part.”

“I appreciate you doing this for me,” Elizabeth said, wondering how it had all gotten out of hand. “She’s my responsibility and I—”

Travis pushed to his feet and held out one hand to stop her. “You’re not in L.A. anymore. Glenwood is a small town, Elizabeth Abbott, and we take care of our own. As of Thursday night, you’re one of us. I’m on duty today, so I’m going to take Mandy with me to the station. We’re right across from the park. I’ll see that she gets exercise and decent food and is in bed by nine. My housekeeper promised to come by and make sure I’m doing it all correctly.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I don’t have any plans for the weekend and I’ve always been a sucker for a pair of beautiful blue eyes.”

Elizabeth felt a rush of disappointment that her own eyes were brown. She wanted to believe him, believe that it was just about people helping each other. The way he said it, she was almost willing to buy into the myth of small towns. But she’d believed before, had trusted before, and that trust had been betrayed.

“I hate to impose,” she said.

“You don’t have a choice,” he answered. “What else are you going to do with her?”

She glanced down at the IV needle taped to her hand. She didn’t have an answer to that one, either. “Thank you. Again.”

She looked up at him. Humor danced in his eyes, humor and a little bit of compassion. As long as it didn’t change to pity, she could survive. And somehow, she would pay him back.

He retrieved his hat and settled it on his head; then he held out his hand to Mandy. The little girl collected her giraffe and tucked it next to her bear. She grinned at her mother and slipped her hand in his. “By, Mommy.”

“By, honey.”

Elizabeth watched her daughter act so trustingly with this stranger. Maybe Mandy hadn’t been scarred by the experience as badly as she’d feared. Maybe Mandy was going to be fine.

Travis paused by the door and looked at her. The Stetson hid his eyes from view, but she saw the quick smile flash under his black mustache. Her heart fluttered foolishly. The man was handsome as sin.

“I’ll call before the movie,” he said. “So you can talk with Mandy.”

“I’d like that.”

“Rest,” he commanded. “The nurse said you’ll be released around ten in the morning. I’ll be here around nine-thirty.”

“You don’t have to stay,” she said quickly. “But I appreciate you dropping Mandy off.”

“I’m not dropping her off,” he said. “Unless you can come up with something better than that motel, Elizabeth, you’re coming home with me.”

Travis left Mandy at the sheriff’s office in the center of Glenwood and walked past his patrol car to Elizabeth’s white car parked on the street. The T-bird started instantly. He shifted into gear and checked the mirrors before pulling out and heading for the motel.

Within ten minutes, he stood inside the small rented room, staring at the suitcases stacked in the corner and at the personal items scattered around. A pair of high heels poked out from under the bed. A yellow blouse rested over the back of a chair. The faint scent of perfume lingered in the air. He sniffed appreciatively. He missed having a woman living with him.

His wife had left both him and Glenwood three years ago, returning to town only long enough to sign the divorce papers and wish him well with his life. He didn’t resent her or the split. He should have known better than to marry. Haynes men didn’t make good husbands or fathers. He came from a long line of men who failed at marriage. But he’d wanted to prove his father, brothers and uncles wrong, so he’d married the pretty, dark-haired woman he’d met in college. She’d been shy but quick-witted—and hot as hell in bed. All the ingredients had been there. Still the marriage had fizzled and he’d learned his lesson firsthand. Haynes men made great cops, but lousy family men.

Travis placed an open suitcase on the bed. He folded Mandy’s nightgown and picked up her toys. In the bathroom, an open cosmetic bag sat next to the sink. He collected the compacts, tubes and brushes on the counter and placed them into the bag, stopping long enough to pick up a bottle of perfume and sniff the cap. He would have thought Elizabeth Abbott to be the floral type, but the aroma was spicy. Not overpowering, just intriguing. He dropped the bottle in with the other cosmetics.

After checking the shower and behind the door for clothes, he returned to the bedroom and packed up the remaining items. A white cotton nightgown had been carelessly tossed over a dresser. He folded it carefully, noticing the row of tiny buttons up the front and the lace ruffle around the neck and arms.