Sweet Devotion. Felicia Mason
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pulled Amber toward the sink. She ran cool water and made a compress from paper towels that she then pressed on Amber’s forehead. Then she ran warm water and plunged Amber’s hands under the steady stream. She rubbed Amber’s hands, getting the blood circulating again.
“Does that feel better?”
Amber nodded, and Marnie handed her a paper towel to dry her hands.
“You want to tell me what’s going on? You ran out of there like something was on fire.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Amber said automatically.
If she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d eventually believe it.
For a moment, it seemed as if Marnie would let it go….
“I want you to know I care about you, Amber. You do good work here with the kids. I’d hate to lose you.”
“What makes you think I’m going somewhere?”
Marnie stilled her hands and stared at Amber. “I see it in your eyes. You look scared and ready to bolt.” Then their gazes connected in the mirror above the sink. “What can I do to help you?”
Amber shook her head. “Nothing.”
“I think I know what’s wrong.”
“I doubt it,” Amber said.
“Yes, Amber. You see, it takes one to know one.”
“Is the Cookie Lady coming back?”
Paul glanced at one of the aides who’d stepped in after both Amber and Marnie Shepherd disappeared.
“I’m sure she will,” he told the child.
“Hey, Chief Evans, can I take a ride in your police car?”
“Maybe next time, Max.” He bit back a smile at the boy’s excited grin.
“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe not that soon.”
“Okay,” the boy said, confident that the promise extracted from the police chief would eventually be fulfilled.
Sutton finished passing out the cookies and brought the basket to the front of the Story Corner. She placed her two cookies on a paper napkin, then carefully folded the two cloth napkins, bringing as much care to the job as Amber would have, as she placed them inside the basket. She then put the basket on the table next to Amber’s rocker.
“I was the helper today, Daddy.”
Paul squatted down and gave her a hug. “And it looks to me like you did a terrific job.”
“I get two cookies.” She offered him one. “Would you like this one?”
Paul took a bite and munched on it, savoring every bite.
Wow. No wonder Caleb was so opposed to sharing. He glanced in the direction of the rest rooms.
His radio squawked. Paul pressed the speaker button at his shoulder unit. “Go ahead.”
“Chief, we’ve got a domestic in progress on Patterson in East Wayside.”
“On the way,” Paul answered.
“Daddy, what’s a domestic?”
“Domestic disturbance. Right, Chief?” Max piped up. “Somebody’s hitting somebody.”
Had it been any other kid, Paul would have been disturbed at the child’s knowledge. But Max Young came from a long line of law enforcement officers. “Right, Max.”
With a final glance toward the place Amber had skittered off to, Paul said farewell to the children and to the aide. He hugged Sutton and placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”
Jonathan, who didn’t care for public displays of affection, edged closer to Paul. “You’ll catch ’em, right?”
“Catch who?”
Jonathan motioned for Paul to get closer. He leaned down and watched the boy look to his right and left. “The domestic disturbance. You’ll get the bad man, won’t you?”
Paul blinked, sudden moisture in his eyes. He wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him close for a hug. “I’ll get ’em, Jon.”
Marnie peeked out the bathroom door. “He’s gone.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“Uh-huh,” Marnie said. “That’s why we’ve been in here ten minutes.”
“I need to go.”
Marnie stopped Amber with a hand on her arm. “Whatever’s going on, Amber, I’m here for you and so is the Lord. I’m keeping you in my prayers.”
Amber opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then slipped from the rest room. Her Cookie Lady persona cloaked around her again, she bid farewell to the children, thanked Sutton for her help and got a huge hug in return.
Startled, Amber didn’t quite know what to do. Then she wrapped her arms around the girl, fusing both of them in the much-needed embrace. “You take good care now, okay?”
The little girl nodded. “I love you, Cookie Lady,” Sutton whispered in her ear.
Astounded, Amber blinked. When was the last time she’d gotten unconditional love? Swallowing hard, she smiled at the girl, tugged on a pigtail and hightailed it out of Sunshine and Rainbows.
Who knew delivering cookies and reading a story could be just as dangerous to her state of mind as catering a Wayside Revelers’ event?
When she got home, two messages awaited her.
She pressed the button on her answering machine, then tucked away the cookie basket and put the aprons in a laundry bin.
“Hi, Amber.” Haley’s voice rang out. “I was just checking in. I’ll try to catch you later. Wanted to ask you something.”
“More like checking up on me,” Amber said, as the machine beeped and forwarded to the next message.
“It’s me again,” Haley said. “Can you join us for dinner tonight? Matt’s going to grill.”
Amber’s mouth watered at the thought. She was a whiz in the kitchen, but Matt Brandon-Dumaine worked wonders on a barbecue grill. She could hear his voice in the background. Then Haley laughed on the recorder.
“Matt says to tell you if you come over he might, emphasis on the word might, share one of his secret barbecue sauce recipes with you. Steaks and chicken go on the grill at six. Hope you can make it.”
Amber smiled. She had to give it to Haley—her cousin never stopped trying to get her to live a little, to do some socializing in Wayside.
But Amber had no interest in developing any close ties beyond those she needed to make and maintain her catering company. She’d learned the hard way that friends and even family—Haley excepted, of course—couldn’t be counted on to be there in a pinch.
Just one person had Amber’s best interests at heart: Amber.
She could tolerate having dinner with Haley and Matt or a cup of coffee with Kara Spencer, her longtime friend and sometime therapist. Beyond that, Amber wasn’t interested. She couldn’t afford to be.
On her arrival at the barbecue, her eyebrows rose as she noted the number of cars in front of Matt and Haley’s large house. And the moment she walked into the living room, Amber realized she’d been set up. Not only that, but it was a setup operating on two fronts.
“Hi, Amber!”
Trapped.
Too late to turn and head back out the door.
“Hello, Caleb,” Amber