Safe In The Lawman's Arms. Patricia Johns

He looked over at the kitchen table, where a breakfast spread awaited. “Yes.”

      Katy scampered over to a kitchen chair and climbed up, grabbing for the nearest box of cereal and shaking it exuberantly. Malory calmly rescued the box before it exploded, slipping it from her charge’s small fingers.

      “Not like that,” Malory said. “I’ll pour you a bowl, okay? Sit down.”

      Malory shot Mike a smile as she prepared Katy’s bowl of cornflakes. “How did you sleep?”

      “Fine.” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable with this domestic scene in the middle of his house. “And you?”

      “Like a baby.” She chuckled as she stretched forward to reach the pitcher.

      “So I was thinking about what you said last night,” Mike said.

      Katy wasn’t paying attention, her attention on the food in front of her. Malory glanced up, brown eyes meeting his.

      “I thought I might take the two of you out for ice cream this afternoon.”

      “Great idea,” Malory agreed. She tucked her sandy-blond hair behind one ear, exposing the creamy length of her neck. “What do you think of that, Katy? Should we go out for ice cream today?”

      Katy nodded and picked up a spoon in one fist as Malory set the bowl in front of her. She dug in immediately, milk dribbling down her chin. Her excitement at the prospect of breakfast saddened him. Well-fed kids tended to be pickier eaters than Katy was, and he couldn’t help but wonder how many mornings she’d had the option of breakfast in her young life.

      “How are you settling in?” Mike asked as Malory sat down opposite Katy and reached for her own cereal.

      “This is a beautiful home. I’m very comfortable.” She poured a full bowl and added milk. “It can’t be easy to share your space, though.”

      “Oh, I survive.” A smile played on his lips. Truth be told, he was having trouble thinking about anything more than the pretty nanny in his house. He could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo in the hallway that led away from the main bathroom. The sound of her cheerful tones filtered through the house in daylight, and all last night, he’d found himself uncomfortably aware that she slept down the hall.

      “I took a shower late last night,” Malory said. “I was worried it might wake you. Maybe we could decide on a lights-out time so that you aren’t disturbed.”

      Mike shook his head. “No, don’t worry about that. You’re no bother.”

      Frankly, it wasn’t her problem if he couldn’t get his mind off her. She was just doing her job, and he’d have to practice a little more mental self-control. She was the kind of woman who would draw his eye in a social setting with her down-home good looks. If he saw her standing by the buns at a barbecue, her hair tucked behind her ear like that, he’d find his way over and introduce himself. But this was different—this was a professional line.

      “I’ve noticed that you don’t have any photos around your home,” Malory said, her brown eyes meeting his. “Why is that?”

      “I’ve mentioned the Cruise clan, haven’t I?” He gave her a wry smile.

      “But what about your mom?” she asked. “Don’t you have pictures of her?”

      He sighed. Having a woman living in his home seemed like a great idea when he needed round-the-clock child care for Katy, but right about now it made privacy a whole lot harder. “I said that my mom died, right?”

      She nodded, chewing her cereal thoughtfully.

      “I’m pretty sure she did, at least. I just don’t know when. She ran off and left us when I was young. I don’t have many memories of her, but all of them involved yelling and anger.”

      “Oh...” Malory winced. “I’m really sorry.”

      “It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”

      “Haven’t you searched for her?”

      “I have, but I couldn’t find anything. My dad told me she died, so maybe he was right. He had a pretty flexible relationship with the truth, so I didn’t know.” He stopped when he saw the sadness swimming through Malory’s eyes. “Sorry. This is why I don’t talk about these things.”

      “Don’t you have anyone you trust?” she asked quietly.

      “I trust the sheriff’s department. I trust the officers I work with day in and day out. I trust myself.”

      She nodded slowly. “That’s something.” Malory passed Katy half a banana, her gaze flickering toward him, then back to her charge. “It seems a little empty in here without pictures.”

      “I like it this way.” Irritation wormed its way up inside him. He had a painful past, and pictures only served to remind him of it. He preferred to live in the present, enjoy the security of the life he worked for.

      Mike let his gaze roam around his kitchen and out into the slice of living room that was visible. He hadn’t actually intended to keep his home so free of pictures. One day, he always thought he’d have wedding photos, school pictures and family portraits of his own brood. But then he’d be able to protect them. He’d be able to put up a wall between them and the extended family that used and abused with apparent abandon.

      Katy dropped the last of her banana into her bowl.

      “You’re done?” Malory asked. “Okay. Can you wash your hands by yourself, or do you need my help?”

      “I can do it!” Katy declared and clattered from the table.

      “You think I’m heartless, don’t you?” Mike asked when they stood alone in the kitchen.

      “No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re scarred.”

      He shrugged, accepting her estimation. Maybe he was. “You do realize that as a law-enforcement officer, I can’t associate with known felons, right?”

      “That makes sense.”

      “And that includes pretty much all of my family.”

      “Except Katy.”

      “Yes, except Katy.” He grabbed the boxes of cereal and brought them to the cupboard. “You can’t really understand where I’m coming from unless you’ve experienced it.”

      She was silent, and he glanced over to find her brown eyes trained on him. “And you don’t think that they can change?” she asked.

      “Change?” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve been a sheriff for ten years and I’ve never seen anyone change.”

      “You changed,” she countered.

      “There are a few rescues,” he admitted. “I was one of them. But not many. Addiction is like that. It’s a vise grip.”

      “I could see that.”

      “And the lies...the constant lying. It gets to me. You know they’re lying to you and you know exactly why. Everyone has a reason to lie. In court it’s called motive.”

      “What would they lie about?” she asked, her expression clouding. She shifted in her seat.

      “Everything. Anything. Do you know what it’s like to not be able to trust anything someone tells you?”

      “I know what it’s like to find out I’ve been duped,” she replied with a wry smile.

      He paused, wondering who’d duped her in the past, but there wasn’t time to ask. Katy came back down the stairs, water saturating her dress front. She looked up at Malory with a big smile. “I’m done.”

      “You need a tiny bit of help.” Malory chuckled. “Come on... Let’s go get you cleaned up. We have to brush your teeth, too...”