Safe in His Arms. Dana Corbit

scene. Any other type of reaction to Lindsay Collins would be unacceptable, and he wasn’t about to cross that line.

      As quickly as he could without being obvious in shoving her away, he set Lindsay back on her feet and released her. Ignoring the prickles in his fingers that refused to subside, he stepped up to Emma and tugged on one of her ponytails.

      “Didn’t we already talk about this tornado business?” He gave her a stern look. “We can make plans to play together again soon, but only if you stop this nonsense and let Aunt Lindsay buckle you in your seat.”

      Joe was as surprised as Lindsay appeared to be by his offer, but he guessed he shouldn’t have been. He’d already been too personally involved in this case, and he’d chosen to dig in deeper the moment he’d suggested the trip to the park when he could have answered Lindsay’s questions right in the Brighton Post parking lot.

      But he’d had to make sure Lindsay and her niece would be okay, and now that he’d witnessed Lindsay’s struggles, he couldn’t resist stepping in to help. He was caught now in a trap of his own making. He should drive away as fast as the high-performance tires on his patrol car could carry him, but he knew he wouldn’t, any more than he would leave a stranded motorist on the side of the interstate.

      “Promise?”

      Joe startled as Emma’s question drew him back from his thoughts. Sitting docilely now in her aunt’s arms, Emma looked back at him with a skeptical expression.

      “That we can play together? Of course, I promise.”

      But Lindsay shook her head. “I don’t think—”

      “Come on. It will be fun.”

      Lindsay’s jaw tightened as she buckled Emma in her seat and closed the car door. Finally, she turned back to him.

      He held his hands up the way he usually expected suspects to do. “Before you say anything, let me make a suggestion. I really do have a lot of experience in taking care of kids, so maybe when we meet again I could give you some tips.”

      “You mean tips about how to bribe kids into behaving?”

      Because her lips had formed a straight line, he couldn’t help grinning at her. She had spunk. “Worked, didn’t it? And it wasn’t that big of a bribe anyway.”

      “You shouldn’t have promised her.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because you won’t be able to keep that promise.” She cleared her throat. “Look, I appreciate you taking the time to fill in the blanks for me about the accident, but now I have to put that night behind me so Emma and I can get on with our lives.”

      “You could make that life a little easier if you just let me—”

      “Thank you. But no.”

      He used the lazy grin that usually swayed women to his side. “Okay, then. But remember, the offer still stands.”

      “Noted.” She swallowed visibly, but showed no signs of caving. “Thanks again.”

      Lindsay hobbled around the car and climbed in as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. She didn’t look his way as she backed out of her parking place and started down the long drive to the park exit.

      He knew he should just let her drive off into the southeast Michigan sunset, but he wouldn’t. Whether she admitted it or not, Lindsay needed his help in figuring out how to handle Emma. He might not be able to do anything about the rest of her problems, might not be able to give Lindsay back her sister, or Emma her mother, but this was one area he could help if Lindsay would only let him.

      Just like he didn’t know her well enough to understand how her faith could have survived such a loss, she didn’t know him, either. She had no idea how determined he could be, whether it was to get into the police academy or to keep a promise. And he was more determined than he’d been about anything in a long time to keep his promise to Emma and in turn help out the child’s aunt. If he helped Lindsay adapt to her new life, then maybe, just maybe, he could escape from the weight of his guilt and get on with his own life.

      “I’m so hungry.” Emma put so much emphasis on “so” that it sounded more like she’d been starving for years rather than minutes.

      “Be patient, sweetie. I’m not finished cooking yet.” Lindsay had barely started, but it wouldn’t help to tell Emma that. Lindsay had just changed from her work clothes into shorts and a T-shirt, and now she was banging around in the kitchen, hoping to finish before Emma had a meltdown.

      “But I’m hungry now.”

      Lindsay glanced down to see that her hand that grasped the saucepan handle was trembling. She squeezed her eyes so tightly closed that her temples ached. Getting out of work late had caused her to be tardy in picking up Emma from the day-care center. Delia had never been late in the three years she’d taken Emma to that center. The director had made a point of telling Lindsay so. Worse than that, the woman had offered her words with a pitying smile.

      This wasn’t working. What made her think she could handle parenting? She didn’t know what she was doing. She’d asked a three-year-old to be patient. Lindsay hadn’t learned that skill, and she was well on her way to thirty.

      “Lord, please give me patience.” She whispered the prayer as she shoved the broiler pan in the oven.

      Emma was sagging against the doorjamb, as if she were weak from starvation.

      “Why don’t you run into the living room and play with Monkey Man?”

      “I don’t want to play.”

      “Then maybe you could lay on the couch for a few minutes. Dinner will be ready real soon.”

      Emma looked doubtful, but slumped out of the room for what would only be a short reprieve. Trooper Rossetti would have helped you out. Lindsay shook off the thought. She might have been whining a few minutes before, but she didn’t need help, least of all from Joe Rossetti.

      Lindsay had resented every time images of the police officer crept into her thoughts at work today, so she’d spent most of the afternoon resenting. Why couldn’t she get that man out of her mind? She had every reason to delete him from her mental hard drive, and yet he’d returned like an internet virus that refused to be wiped clean.

      It couldn’t be that she found the police officer unusually handsome and was replaying images of him for her own entertainment. Or that she’d enjoyed it so much when he steadied her at the park when she stumbled that she was daydreaming about repeating the clumsy move so he could come to her assistance again. No. Of course not.

      The only reason she could be having any thoughts at all about Trooper Rossetti was that his answers yesterday had only caused her to have more questions. Like for instance, why he had spent so much time with her in the hospital after the accident. He hadn’t said a word about it. And if Joe didn’t believe in God, then why had he given her the poem that reminded her to have faith? If he’d given it to her on “impulse,” as he’d said, then he must have once believed. Had there been some tragedy in his life that caused him to lose his faith?

      “Stop it!”

      She shot a glance over her shoulder, to see if Emma had returned to watch her again. But she was alone. She puffed up her cheeks and let the breath out slowly, hoping to expel her strange thoughts in the process. She had enough tragedy in her life, and too much on her plate right now, to be taking on someone else’s problems.

      Since no sounds were coming from the living room, except for the saccharine sound of Emma’s favorite kids’-music CD, Lindsay was relieved that the child had found something with which to occupy herself for a few minutes. Now Lindsay would be able to finish making dinner in peace.

      She lifted the pan lid and used a fork to test the doneness of the asparagus. She only needed to start on the salad and wait for the oven buzzer to go off for the salmon, and she would have