Christmas Hideout. Susan Sleeman

table where he’d joined his family more times than he could begin to count. He pulled a chair out for Emilie. She climbed up. The chair seemed monster-sized when her tiny body settled in the middle of the worn wooden seat. She’d never be able to eat by sitting in the chair. What in the world did he do to solve that? Hopefully her mother would’ve gotten up by then. She’d know what to do.

      He grabbed orange juice, eggs and milk from the well-stocked refrigerator. His nana did all the cooking for the family, and since he and his three siblings showed up for lunch or dinner on a regular basis, she always kept it filled with food.

      He faced Emilie. “Would you like some orange juice?”

      “Yes, please.” She smiled up at him. Such sweetness and innocence.

      His heart melted into a big old puddle. Smiling, he dug in the cupboard and found a red plastic Kool-Aid cup with a big smile etched on the side that he’d had as a kid and poured her a glass. He placed the cup on the table in front of her.

      “Thank you,” she said.

      She was a polite little thing. He had to give her mother props for that.

      She traced her finger over the Kool-Aid man’s face and giggled. “He’s smiling.”

      Matt chuckled with her and got lost in the sound of her pure joy. Law enforcement officers could develop jaded opinions. He was no exception, he supposed. To see pure happiness over such a simple thing was refreshing.

      She took a long drink, and he turned back to the cupboards to retrieve pancake ingredients, plus a bowl and whisk, and started mixing. That he knew how to do. Taking care of a three-year-old? Not so much. Sure, he’d had training for his job on how to handle people of all ages but caring for a child like this was another thing all together.

      He always imagined he would have his own kids someday and would learn as he went along, but he’d never dated anyone he wanted to settle down with. But this was a crash course in figuring it out, and his confidence was nearly absent. Left him unsettled.

      His phone rang. Seeing it was from his sister Kendall, also a Lake County deputy, he quickly accepted the call.

      “Sis,” he said.

      “I followed up on the Austin PD blotter like you asked me last night.”

      “And?” he asked, not liking her reserved tone.

      “The desk sergeant said he’d work on gathering the information when he had time.”

      “You told him this was urgent, right?”

      “Of course.” She sounded like she didn’t appreciate him following up on her. “But he said he’d get to it when he got to it.”

      “Translated, it will take a while.”

      “And if the sarge is Harmon’s buddy, it’ll take longer.”

      Matt heard Emilie’s bare feet padding across the room to the low window, and he turned to look at her.

      “You’ve got to keep after them,” he said, putting as much force into his tone as possible. “Lives could depend on us getting the information.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

      Right, don’t worry. How could he not? He shoved his phone into his pocket. The adorable child and her mother could be in danger, and he needed information and needed it now.

      “Horsies! You have horsies!” Emilie swung around to face him. Her eyes, alive with delight, reminded him of her mother’s.

      “Can I ride a horsey?” Emilie shoved her monkey under one arm and tucked it by her side.

      “Sure,” Matt quickly replied but instantly thought better of his hasty response. “If your mother says it’s okay, that is.”

      Emilie’s forehead furrowed, and her lips puckered in an adorable pout that he thought would make it nearly impossible to say no to anything she asked for. How could such a bitty child have such power over an adult? He’d never experienced anything like it.

      “Mommy doesn’t like horses,” she said. “She’s scared of them.”

      “Is that so?” Maybe while Nicole was staying at the ranch, he could help her get over that fear. After all, he wouldn’t mind spending time with such a beautiful woman, but forming an attachment to either of them was out of the question. He needed to keep his focus on his work only and personal relationships were off-limits for him.

      “She’ll say no.” Emilie’s pout grew more exaggerated.

      “I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe I can convince her it’s safe.”

      “Goody.” She clapped her hands and turned her attention back to the window.

      He started on the pancakes, and while they were cooking, he laid three place settings at the table in case Nicole woke up.

      When he’d plated the last pancake, he took them to the table along with a bottle of rich maple syrup. “Pancakes are ready.”

      “Yippee.” Emilie skipped across the room, but when she reached the chair her lips dipped in a monster-sized frown. “I need my booster seat.”

      That she did, and he still didn’t know how to help her. Here he was a deputy who could face just about anything, and he was thrown by handling a tiny little girl with a smile that melted his heart and a pout that made him want to fix everything on the spot. Most importantly, it made him want to do everything he could to protect her from their stalker. After he confirmed Harmon had indeed been stalking them.

      “Mommy lets me sit on her lap when we don’t have my booster.”

      Right. Lap. “Would you like to sit on my lap?”

      “Yes, please.”

      “What about your monkey? We don’t want him to get all sticky, do we?”

      She frowned and crossed her arms. “I want to sit with Mr. Monkey.”

      “But your mom wouldn’t appreciate a sticky monkey,” he said, grasping at straws for an answer.

      Her expression didn’t change.

      Panic assailed him, and he never panicked. What did he say to a child who hadn’t developed reasoning skills yet?

      “If you want to eat, you can’t hold on to Mr. Monkey.” There, he’d stated it plainly but still held his breath as he waited for her response.

      “Mr. Monkey can sit in his own chair.” She placed him on a nearby chair and pushed it in. “He likes pancakes, too.”

      Matt sat, and she slipped up onto his lap. She didn’t sit still for even a second but wiggled around until she was comfortable. “You haveta cut my pancakes.”

      Matt used his fork to slice them into small bites, but she kept squirming, and he had to constantly shift around her. How could a simple act of cutting up food be so difficult?

      “I like syrup.” She picked up the fork, and it looked as big as a pitchfork in her miniature hand.

      He poured the syrup, and she attacked the pancakes as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. He reached for his own bite and she bumped the fork on his hand. He licked the sticky syrup off, but his attention soon shifted to the dripping bite she dropped on his jeans.

      Were kids always this messy? If so how did he handle it? Ignore it and deal with the mess at the end, maybe?

      Yeah, he’d keep his thoughts on the blotter information, and then when she was finished eating, he might have to hose them both off.

      So what did he do about the information Kendall just relayed? With Harmon being an officer, Matt had to be smart about it. He could call one of his contacts higher up on the Austin police force to get the ball rolling. No, if he did that, word was more likely to get back to Harmon that someone in Lost Creek