The Best Bride. Сьюзен Мэллери
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caught her in one stride and gently took her arm. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t believe you.” She pulled her arm free and glared up at him. “You keep staring at me as if I’ve just made off with the family silver. I haven’t done anything wrong. None of this is my fault.”
It was the fact that she didn’t cry that finally convinced him. He could see the strength it took to hold on to her control. Her mouth quivered from the effort and perspiration dotted her forehead.
Maybe the guy had beaten her, he thought suddenly. Maybe her ex-boyfriend had been one of those sick types who got off on hitting women and children. He glanced at her bare arms, but there were no telltale marks. Of course she could have been on her own for several weeks.
Dammit, what the hell was her story?
She took another step and seemed to stumble. He caught her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. She clung to him for a moment. He ignored the way her curvy body felt against his chest, the long length of her legs and the soft pressure of her breasts against his shirt. When he set her on the sofa, she immediately tried to slide away. The movement caused her to clutch at her side and glare at him.
The anger in her gaze made him smile. Her temper he could handle.
“You’re overreacting,” he said mildly.
Her mouth dropped open. “I’m overreacting? Wait a minute. You’re the one accusing of me of who knows what. Maybe it would be better if I just—”
“No.” He settled next to her on the couch and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She jerked her head away, but there was no fear in her eyes. Relief flooded him. If she’d been beaten on a regular basis, she would have been terrified. Instead she reacted with completely understandable indignation.
“Don’t touch me, or try to sweet-talk me,” she said. “You accused me of kidnapping my daughter.”
“Given the little that you’ve told me, would you have thought any differently?”
“I—” She drew in a deep breath and brushed her hair out of her face. “I suppose not. But you didn’t have to be such a cop about it.”
“Just doing my job.”
She nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“So you’re not going to make a run for it?”
“To the best of my knowledge I haven’t committed a felony.”
He winked. “Sometimes the misdemeanors can be even more interesting.”
She smiled. “Oh, please. Don’t get me started. I don’t even want to know what you’re talking about.” Her smile faded. “I really haven’t done anything wrong, Travis.”
He hesitated and then said, “I know.”
She held out her hand. “Friends?”
She wanted to shake on it. As Travis took her warm fingers in his, he glanced at her full mouth and wondered if it would taste even sweeter if he kissed her without a six-year-old audience to censor the moment. Better to shake hands, he told himself. Safer. For both of them.
“Friends,” he said and released her. Only then did he remember he still hadn’t solved the mystery.
* * *
Elizabeth hobbled over to the table and gratefully sank into the seat. She was breathing heavily and all she’d done was assemble the ingredients to make cupcakes.
“From a mix,” she said, disgusted with her weakened condition. She grabbed the package and ripped it open. The effort necessary to raise the box to dump it in the bowl made her incision ache.
She leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. Thank God she wasn’t trying to make it on her own in that small motel room. She and Mandy would have starved.
The line of thinking was a mistake, she acknowledged, as thinking of not being in the motel made her remember how she’d been rescued by the very handsome, the very inquisitive Sheriff Travis Haynes. Which made her think of this morning and what had happened between them.
He was not a man she wanted to cross. Despite the wicked charm and sinful good looks, he was intimidating when he was angry. All his questions had made her nervous, but he’d never once stumbled close to the truth. Of course, why should he? It wasn’t the first thing anyone thought of. Things like that only happened in the tabloids. That’s where she belonged. Right between the cover story on the aliens abducting the residents of a local pig farm and the woman giving birth to the four-legged child.
She felt guilty, too, knowing that Travis had given her the benefit of the doubt, trusting her when she hadn’t told him the whole truth. She picked up an egg and held it. Was it so wrong not to want him to know? She hadn’t done anything wrong, had committed no crime, save the one of being too young and too trusting. Okay, she’d been a fool. But was that illegal?
“Just what is it you think you’re doing?”
Elizabeth jumped guiltily at the sound of the voice. Louise stood in the doorway to the kitchen. She planted her hands on her curvy hips and stared.
“I’m, ah, making cupcakes for Mandy.”
Louise shook her head. “And you look like such a bright girl, too.” She walked over and grabbed the egg from Elizabeth’s hand. “The doctor told you to stay in bed for a week.”
“I know, it’s just—”
“A week is seven days. This is day two. If I have to tie you up, I will, but won’t that be hard to explain to the neighbors?”
Elizabeth grinned and held up her hands in defeat. “I give. Just don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much. If I promise to be good, can I at least sit here for a little while?”
Louise looked stern. “For a few minutes. Then I want you to go lie down until Mandy gets home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Louise took the seat next to her and finished pouring in the mix. “I remember when I was little my mama used to make cupcakes for me.”
“Mandy loves them.”
“So do I.” The older woman smiled. “I haven’t baked anything in ages. I wonder if Alfred would like some cake with his dinner.” She thought for a minute. “No, he’s still trying to lose weight.” She leaned forward. “Alfred is a beagle and they tend to get a little heavy when they age.”
Elizabeth hoped Louise was only kidding about making a cake for her dog, but she wasn’t completely sure and she didn’t want to ask.
Louise stirred in the other ingredients, then started pouring the batter into the cupcake pan. “So, I heard you and Travis fighting. You want to talk about it?”
“You aren’t one to beat around the bush, are you?”
Louise shrugged. “I’m pretty straightforward,” she admitted. “It would probably be easier if I’d just learn to keep my mouth shut. Maybe I’ll get it eventually. But you seem like a real nice lady. Mandy is the sweetest little girl and I’ve found you can usually judge a mother by her children. Travis Haynes is one of my favorite people on earth. Why, if I was five or six years younger, I might just risk my heart on him.” She paused, then shook her head. “On second thought, I’ll leave the Haynes boys to the rest of you. I’ve already had my heart broken once by that family.”
It was too much information to absorb, Elizabeth thought, not knowing whether to laugh, cry, be insulted or flattered.
“He’s a good man,” Louise said, carrying the full cupcake pans over to the oven and sliding them inside.
“Who?”
“Travis.”
“I know that.”