Home to Safe Harbor. Kate Welsh

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Home to Safe Harbor - Kate  Welsh


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he had to share us with our sick dead mommy.”

      Matt cringed and wanted to crawl under the table. “Quiet, kitten, you can’t ask a stranger to be your mother. Remember, we talked about this already. I’m sorry,” he said to Justine. “I didn’t see that one coming at all.”

      Wagging her stubby little finger to emphasize each word, Gina explained patiently, “But, Daddy, you got to listen. You said I can’t ask an already married lady to be our mommy. I asked this time. See I ’membered what you told me after I asked Ms. Dalton back at my old school to come live with us.”

      Matt’s heartbeat sped up at the sound of Justine’s chuckle. Flustered, he all but begged his oldest daughter, “Leslie, would you take the girls over and get them a little snack? We’ll talk about this later, kitten.”

      At thirteen, Les was such a big help. She had become a regular little mother to her nine-and five-year-old sisters. He didn’t know what he’d do without her. With a little nod of her head and a little roll of her eyes, Les ushered Cindy and Gina toward the kitchen.

      “Relax, I’m fairly positive you didn’t recruit her as a matchmaker,” Justine assured him.

      “Count on it! Last spring she noticed all the kids in her preschool had mommies. She started a campaign to get one for herself. My late wife, Diane, once told me that as soon as your children can talk, you no longer have the luxury of pride. She’s forever being proven right by Gina.”

      Justine chuckled again—and again his heart rolled in his chest.

      “She’s adorable. Don’t give it another thought.” Then a teasing little light entered Justine’s brown eyes. “So how come you and this Ms. Dalton aren’t an item.”

      “That was back in Green Bay.” He sighed. “I honestly thought the campaign was over. And Mrs. Dalton wasn’t exactly my type. She was an assistant teacher at Gina’s preschool. I’m afraid Mr. Dalton, who had been married to Mrs. Dalton for nearly fifty years, would have been just a little upset to lose her to a younger man.”

      “I imagine he would. Has Gina recruited any other good possibilities?”

      “I think maybe she just did,” he quipped, then nearly swallowed his tongue. Where had that come from? He’d just flirted with the new minister!

      Justine blushed and turned away, gesturing across the room. “I see Russ and Annie Mitchard over by the mural. I think we should ask them how our little plan to straighten out Alan sits with them. You’ll have to let me know how it all works out in the end, if they agree.”

      As they approached Russ and Annie, Matt was sorry Justine had cut the conversation off, but at the same time, he was grateful. He just couldn’t seem to go back to thinking of her as Reverend Clemens. Then again, he never really had. Since the moment he had first set his eyes on her, she’d been a beautiful woman he really wanted to meet and get to know. Deciding how to do that with a minister, however, would take a little thought.

      Three days later Judge Howard sentenced Alan Tobridge to two hundred hours of community service. For the next several months he’d be Matt’s responsibility three afternoons a week and every other Saturday. Judge Howard also levied a fine of five hundred dollars to help defray the cost of Alan’s vandalism up at Annie Mitchard’s B & B. The teen wouldn’t have much time to get in trouble because he had to work off the fine with a part-time job at The Quest. Matt had stopped to tell Russ at the silversmith’s shop first, and then he’d gone to tell Russ’s wife Annie, up at the B & B.

      Now, on his way back down Lake Drive, he noticed Justine walking across the street toward Market Square. He imagined she was on her way to the church to get ready for Wednesday evening services. It seemed only neighborly to stop and tell her how court had gone and to offer her a ride.

      Matt gave a short bleep on his siren to get her attention as he coasted to a stop behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, then walked back to his squad car as he lowered the window. He could tell her smile was automatic because she seemed to catch herself, straighten and put on an expression he guessed she thought made her look ministerial. He grinned. To him she just looked kind of cute trying not to look like a knockout.

      “Was I about to jaywalk or something, Chief Trent?”

      “I thought we’d established that I’m Matt. And no, you’re still on the right side of the law. I wanted to let you know how Alan’s hearing went this afternoon.”

      “Oh?”

      “Reverend Burns must have done a good sales job.”

      “Then, the judge went along?”

      “Howard went with the whole plan. Want a lift? I could probably be going your way, and I can let you know the specifics.”

      She looked as if she might accept but then shook her head. “The exercise is good for me, and this weather won’t last long now that summer’s almost over.”

      Matt couldn’t argue with that, even though he wanted to, so he nodded, bid her a good day and drove on. He wished he could get her out of his head, because, after two gentle rebuffs, he’d begun to think she didn’t want to be there.

      Maybe she wasn’t ready to explore a relationship. When Justine had first gotten his attention, he’d felt disloyal to Diane. Then he’d remembered how Diane, a few days before her death, had made him promise not to cry, not to grieve too long and not to stay alone too long. She’d been right. Even with the girls, he was lonely. They were the center of his world—his link to the woman he’d chosen as his life partner. But they weren’t enough.

      Little by little his life had filled in. He’d had a good career with the FBI. It was interesting and challenging. But when Cindy was nearly kidnapped, he’d made his first big decision for the girls’ welfare on his own. Before that, missing Diane’s sensitive and insightful opinions, he’d turned to his in-laws for advice.

      That had backfired, of course.

      Mary and Seth Gainer had been like parents to him, but slowly he’d noticed their becoming intrusive. He had lost count of the times he’d come home from work to find they had arrived uninvited and sent the girls’ sitter home for the day. Or the times he’d planned an outing and found them suddenly included.

      He had decided things had to change, but before he’d figured out what to do, little Cindy was snatched right off the school playground. If one of the teachers hadn’t blocked the small city street with her car, the kidnapper would have gotten away and done who knows what to his precious daughter. A week later, thanks to his best friend, Ray Hunter, who lived in Safe Harbor, Matt had formulated and nailed down the perfect fix to all his problems.

      He’d gone to his in-laws and told them of his plan to move the girls to Safe Harbor, an hour the other side of Green Bay, up the Door Peninsula, where he’d take over for Charles Creasy as Safe Harbor’s police chief.

      And they’d turned on him.

      They’d said he would never make it without their help. That he couldn’t raise the girls alone. Then they’d gone behind his back and asked the girls if they wouldn’t rather live with them and visit him on weekends. It had confused Leslie and upset the younger girls, making them all think they had to choose sides. And all because he’d wanted to raise his children in a safer environment.

      And he’d been right. Here in Safe Harbor he didn’t have to worry as much. Everyone knew everyone else. Tourists were welcome but noticed, as well. His girls were safer in their new town. Much safer. They’d be happy here. He’d make sure of it.

      Leslie Trent stopped at the trash can between the high school and the elementary school to ditch her lunch. She’d lost fifteen pounds in two weeks. She smiled. That had to be some kind of record! She might even post it on the chat room she’d found last night. She looked around but there were too many people watching. She’d been warned on the Web site to watch for witnesses and not to trust anyone. She’d toss the bag away in the bathroom at the station house. That


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