Ruth Herne - The Lawman's Second Chance

Lisa sent her a doubtful look. “Do you think your father will bring you after this morning?”

The girl scowled, remorseful. “Probably not.”

“But,” Lisa went on, as if she had nothing better to do than drive disobedient little girls around, “if you go to church now and behave yourself...”

Becky gulped, shrugged and nodded.

“Maybe your dad will let you live.”

A smile blossomed on the little girl’s face. A small smile, one that said she might have discovered a kindred spirit in Lisa and liked the revelation.

“Shall I drive you over? You won’t be more than a minute or two late and if you promise to slip in quietly...”

“I will!”

“Good.” Lisa closed the steno pad with a satisfied nod. “I’ll explain about the toad garden when you get back.”

“Oh, thank you!” Becky turned, ready to go, then stopped. “Wait. Do I look okay?”

“Here.” Lisa straightened the girl’s red bow under a slightly mangled collar. “Much better.” Becky’s patent leather shoes bore smudges from toe-dragging along the sidewalk, but right now, having the kid turn her behavior around was clutch. Lisa climbed in, thrust the car into gear and drove through Jamison. She pulled up outside Good Shepherd and watched as Becky bounded up the steps. At the top, the girl turned and called out, “See you after church!” in a voice loud enough to interrupt the five concurrent services neighboring the Park Round.

Lisa put a finger to her lips.

Becky clapped a guilty but cute hand to an “oops!” mouth, then tiptoed through the door. All Lisa could do was pray she’d done the right thing.

Guilt swamped her as she turned down McCallister Street.

She’d flirted with Alex. Teased him. Acted as if everything was normal in her world.

It wasn’t, and between fighting cancer, being dumped then divorced, her brother’s wedding and her mother’s illness, she’d spent the last few years out of the dating loop, intentionally.

Alex Steele tempted her back into the mix, but how did a woman casually divulge that she no longer had natural breasts?

Awkward.

And the possible subsequent rejection?

That didn’t make the short list, ever again. Evan’s leaving had wounded more than her heart. It grieved her womanly soul, because part of her couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t signed on for damaged goods, a woman scarred and rebuilt. He’d vocalized his fears, that he couldn’t live with a ticking time bomb.

Lisa shared those fears with one major difference: she had no choice but to live with the threat of recurrence. She’d taken upper level statistics, she understood the theory of likelihood, but she’d lost that game once already.

No history of breast cancer on either side of the family: CHECK.

No detectable genetic markers making her a likely candidate: CHECK.

No behavioral choices that made her more susceptible to breast cancer: CHECK.

She got it anyway. Lisa swallowed a sigh.

She was doing fine on her own. Working, creatively running a great business and filling some of the void her mother’s death had left. Maggie Fitzgerald had been an avid volunteer, running school and 4-H programs. Lisa and Adam had the childhood blue ribbons to prove it.

But beyond that?

Lisa was better off keeping things with Alex Steele “business casual.” Safer for everyone, all around.

Chapter Three

“Hard at work, I see.” Alex softened the wry observation with a smile when he found Lisa lounging on his backyard swing after church. “Examining critical vantage points, I’m sure.”

He moved toward her, bearing gifts in the form of twenty-ounce to-go cups from the village café.

Lisa waved her sketch pad in protest. “Good landscape development needs to be considered from all angles and heights, including sitting. Is that coffee? Please say yes.”

He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like...”

“Cream, sugar, shot of caramel or chocolate.”

“The fact that you like frou-frou coffee is disadvantageous but I guessed correctly.” He settled into the swing alongside her as he handed her the cup. “And I bought a third one, plain, just in case. These days, guys need to cover all the bases.”

She made a face at him. “My coffee is not girly. It’s just delicious. And on a bad day I take an extra shot of espresso. Keeps me out of jail.”

“You understand I’m an experienced investigator, don’t you?” He made a warning face over the rim of his cup. “Anything you say may be used against you.”

She laughed. “Charges vary depending on the occasion. Where’s Emma?”

Alex waved his free hand toward the house. “I sent them to get changed. Which means their church clothes will add to yesterday’s clutter.”

“Because you were shopping for garden advice.”

He accepted that, bemused. “I won’t pretend I’m good at keeping up with things when I’m in and out. It’s easy on my days off. When I’m working we fall drastically behind.”

“Pay ’em.”

“What?” He turned more fully her way, confused.

Lisa lifted her gaze to the house. “Give them a generous allowance to take care of things. Josh is little, but Becky and Emma are old enough to understand responsibility, right?”

Usually he balked, affronted, when someone told him how to raise the kids, but something in how Lisa said it made him more open to the idea.

Or maybe because it was Lisa saying it... He’d examine that more fully later.

“An allowance. I tried that last year. Didn’t work.”

“For how long?”

He cringed, knowing he’d caved too soon. “A couple of weeks.”

Her expression called him out. Her eyes crinkled. He took a deep swallow of coffee and sighed. “How come you know so much about kids if you don’t have any, Lisa?”

“Times change. Kids don’t. My mother was good at setting the bar high but reachable. My brother and I learned to work and earn at a young age.”

“Adam’s a good guy.” That’s as much as he’d say because he realized yesterday that her brother was also a trooper, same area, different barracks. He’d heard nothing but good concerning the younger Fitzgerald. Solid cops employed a firm separation of work vs. home rule, but he’d have been foolish not to notice Adam Fitzgerald’s work ethic, his high “answered calls” rate. “Your mom paid you to work?”

“From early on. Of course that’s normal on a farm, but it taught us to respect time and money. If the kids have a list of chores, they can check them off each day and collect their pay at the end of the week. If things aren’t checked off, no money.”

It made perfect sense. And he had solid follow-through at work. Why was his follow-through more difficult at home?

Because he hated being the bad guy all the time.

Still, Lisa made a good point. A list, a visual... Becky and Emma might respond well to that. He nodded and sipped his coffee, feeling more at peace than he had two hours ago. A quiet church service...a few compliments on his children’s behavior from some sweet old folks...and now, coffee with Lisa.

He felt almost serene.

The back door opened and the kids streamed out, shouting their joy. Serenity gave way to mayhem, but in a fun way.

“Lisa, you’re still here!”

“Hey, Lisa, I was good! Will you tell me about the toad garden now?”

“Dad, can I have another donut?”

Josh’s face wore the white sugar remnants of his first donut from Seb Walker’s pastry case, and possibly the second if the telltale streak of chocolate meant anything. “I’m going to bet you had enough for now, bud. Let’s get you washed up, then you can play.”

“Lisa, were you able to sketch the garden?” Emma’s bright voice reminded Alex that Lisa had come to work. Even so, having her waiting in the backyard, looking spring-morning fresh when he first rounded the corner of the old brick house, made his heart surge with delight.