His Wife. Muriel Jensen

had worked together on community fund-raising.

      Draper stopped halfway down the aisle. The younger officer, a stranger to Sawyer, also stopped, clearly wondering what Draper was doing. Draper shook his head then kept coming.

      “This your kidnapper?” Draper asked Sawyer, one hand on his leather belt, the other on the butt of his holstered gun. He aimed his chin at the woman.

      Sawyer nodded. “She took the kids three days ago from someplace in Florida. They haven’t had anything to eat and she’s kept them under a blanket in the back of her car.”

      The woman expelled a gasp of dismay and put both hands to her face.

      Aha! Sawyer thought, vindicated by that expression of guilt. Gotcha!

      “She’s a hard case, all right,” Draper said. “Goes by the name Sophie Foster. ER nurse at Losthampton Hospital, sings at St. Paul’s Catholic Church—eight-thirty mass—and helps out at the crisis shelter for battered women. But she does have a problem with kids.”

      “Stealing them?” Sawyer asked, not sure what to make of Draper’s description.

      “No, raising them,” Draper replied. “She appears to have two little frauds on her hands. Can I see the children in question?”

      This was not looking good. Sawyer could feel himself physically shrinking. He was about two feet high now. He reached behind the case and pulled out the boy. Inexplicably, the boy was grinning.

      “I found him, Mom!” he exclaimed. “This is him! Brave! Willing to help! Not married! He’s perfect!”

      The woman dropped her hands with a groan and said to Sawyer in a remarkably even voice, all things considered, “You know what, Mr—?”

      “Abbott,” Draper provided before Sawyer could.

      She was distracted for a moment. “The Shepherd’s Knoll Abbotts?” she asked Draper.

      He nodded. “Second son.”

      “Ah.” She nodded, then diverted her attention at Sawyer. He waited for the slow perusal women usually gave him that resulted in a smile of admiration, even when they pretended not to be interested. Of course, he’d just called the police on her, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when she did nothing but look into his eyes, her own very weary. “Tell you what, Mr. Abbott number two. You obviously care for these children, so how about if I just let you have them? Right now. No charge.” She turned to Draper. “That’s not a problem for you, is it? I mean, I’m not selling them—I’m just letting him have them.”

      Eddie grinned up at Sawyer. “She’s just kidding. She loves us a lot.”

      “Of course I do, Eddie” she said to the boy, “but you couldn’t possibly love me if you’d do something as mean as make me believe you’d gotten lost. And something as mean to this man as telling him that I’d kidnapped you.”

      The little girl ran out from behind the case to wrap her arms around her mother’s hips. “We did it to help you find a daddy,” she said, “not to be mean. ’Cause you just can’t find one by yourself.”

      SOPHIE WOULD HAVE HAPPILY abandoned her children, her job, her little cottage on the water and every one of her meager possessions for life somewhere on the Riviera.

      According to novels and movies, life there would involve political intrigues, amassing of jewels or cash, achieving a high social position. Definitely easier than raising three children by herself while trying to erase painful memories and live in a world that seemed to work for everyone else but not for her.

      Being trapped in an abusive relationship for several years had left her unable to bear a man’s touch, yet with a desperate need for it. She didn’t understand it and neither did her psychotherapist. And Father O’Neil could tell her only to keep praying, keep living her life and trusting in God to find her a solution.

      She’d been doing that for two years, but there was no light on the horizon that she could see. Added to her confusion was the fact that her two younger children wanted a father so much. They hadn’t witnessed as much of Bill’s temper as had ten-year-old Gracie, who, like Sophie, didn’t want another man in her life. She was withdrawn and skittish, and Sophie ached every time she saw Gracie take a step back when a man approached.

      Two of the children wanted a father, and one of them didn’t. They manifested, Sophie thought, the dichotomy that existed within herself.

      So she prayed, and lived her life, and waited for a solution. Eddie and Emma’s current prank was making escape look better and better.

      She was mildly entertained, though, by Abbott number two’s horrified expression.

      “I’m so sorry,” he was saying, as Draper talked on his radio. “But they were dirty and seemed so frightened. And I saw you and thought you seemed…” He hesitated over the words on the tip of his tongue. She was enjoying his discomfort just a little; only fair, considering what he was putting her through.

      “Cruel?” she asked. “Psychopathic?”

      He shook his head guiltily. “No. No. Tired. A little stressed.” He put a gentle hand to Eddie’s head and smiled wryly. “Now I understand why. I haven’t been around kids very much. It didn’t occur to me that they’d lie about such a thing.”

      She was inclined to believe him. “Kids this age are always dirty, and there’s a vast uncharted territory in their little minds between truth and fantasy. I just hauled them out of the backyard to go shopping. I should have bathed them first, but I was pressed for time.”

      Actually, the man was very handsome in a wild Long Island–playboy sort of way. He had dark blond hair, which he wore in a spiked and disheveled style that made him appear youthful and somehow useless. But added to that was a pair of blue eyes that were sharply intelligent and surprisingly gentle at the same time. They were set in a handsome, nicely shaped face that managed to look strong without sharp angles or a square jaw.

      He was tall and athletic in simple cotton slacks and a dark blue shirt. She glanced at the contents of his cart. He did have strange taste in food, however.

      She didn’t want to have to explain to him about her younger children and their obsession about finding a father, but they had used and embarrassed him, and she owed him that much.

      “They want a father,” she said with a sigh, “and I have no use for another husband, so it’s hard for us to come together on a solution to the problem. I just didn’t realize they were desperate enough to go searching one out on their own.”

      “Another husband,” he said. “You mean you’ve already got one?”

      She shook her head. “I had one. He’s gone.”

      “He’s gone to heaven!” Emma said loudly, the way she said everything.

      Sophie wasn’t sure that was where he was, but she didn’t mind that Emma thought so. That was about all this stranger should know about her difficult past, but she couldn’t just walk away until Dave Draper decided what he was going to do about Eddie and Emma.

      “I saw your picture in the paper,” Eddie said to Sawyer Abbott, looking pleased with himself. “You did that dangerous stunt with the skis and the barrels. And you give lots of money to help children. That’s why we picked you out when we saw you buying oranges.”

      Abbott squatted in front of him. “I’m flattered that you picked me out. But that was a pretty awful thing to do to your mom. What if a policeman had come who didn’t know that she really was your mom and he took her off to jail because he really thought she’d kidnapped you?”

      The expression on Eddie’s face said he’d never considered that.

      “I wondered if you’d help us,” Eddie said with a frown. “And not just with something easy, but with something really hard. ’Cause a lot of dads don’t help with the hard stuff. So, if we’re going to find another one,