Special Agent Nanny. Linda O. Johnston
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other children watched the exchange, eyes huge. The lower lips of a couple began to quiver, as if they might cry in sympathy for Jenny. Or for their own absent parents.
Obviously Shawn noticed, for he looked around nervously.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing a pad of paper and some crayons from the table. He looked desperate. What was he going to do? “Do you have any pets at home, Jenny?”
No, Kelley wanted to tell him. Don’t remind her. Jenny wanted a puppy or a kitten. Having a pet was even a recommended therapy to help Jenny recover from the trauma of the fire. But the timing wasn’t right.
If Kelley were a stay-at-home mom, the way Randall had wanted her to be, she would be able to take care of a pet. But that wasn’t reality. It wasn’t what Kelley wanted, either for herself or her daughter. She wanted Jenny to have a strong role model.
Not the kind of role model Kelley herself had had.
“I don’t have no pets,” Jenny told Shawn, shaking her head sadly. But at least she was no longer crying.
“Would you like one?”
It was time for Kelley to intervene. The man couldn’t be allowed to distract her daughter by making her feel bad about other things.
As Jenny nodded in response to his question, Shawn said, “Well, then, you shall have one.”
That was it. Kelley began crossing the room toward them, but Shawn Jameson must have noticed, for he held up one large hand. Kelley paused, but only for a minute. If he didn’t stop—
And then she got it. Kneeling on the floor beside the pint-size table, Jameson used the crayons to sketch on the pad. In a moment, the outline of a fuzzy spaniel puppy took shape, one with big, sad eyes and a lolling tongue. And that with only a few strokes on the paper.
It was an adorable caricature.
“Here you are, Jenny,” Shawn said. “This is your new puppy. And—” he made a few more strokes on the page. A child appeared beside the dog—a child with Jenny’s straight, blond hair and soulful chocolate-brown eyes. She wore a crown, like a princess.
“For me?” Jenny asked in obvious delight. Her tears had dried, replaced by a big, amazed grin.
“For you,” Shawn replied. “But you’ll have to think of a name for the dog.”
“Okay,” Jenny replied, her small brows knit as she gave the matter a lot of thought.
Before she came up with a name, the other kids were crowding around, looking at her drawing. Demanding, “Me, too, Shawn. Please. Me next,” all in a chorus that earned from Shawn Jameson a foolish, pleased grin.
Kelley turned toward the door. No matter what the man’s qualifications, he had obvious talent in one direction. And the kids loved it.
Maybe he would work out after all.
SHAWN WATCHED AS Dr. Kelley Stanton left KidClub.
“Okay, Teddy,” he told the nearest child and began to sketch a kitty-cat, as requested.
Amazing. He had all but forgotten his old ability to draw caricatures. Thank heavens it had come back to him when he’d really needed it. As he’d once really needed it to survive.
“I’ll call my puppy Gilly,” Jenny told him solemnly as he continued to sketch on the pad. “For Gilpin. That’s this hospital.”
“And a damn—er, darned good name that is,” he told her. He knew the hospital had been named for William Gilpin, the first governor of Colorado Territory back in the mid-1800s. A nearby county bore his name, too.
Jenny was a cute kid. Looked like her mother. Shawn had silently evaluated Dr. Kelley Stanton with the eyes of an artist.
And an arson investigator.
She was certainly a woman whose appearance was arresting. And he might have to be the one to ensure she was arrested.
Her auburn hair glinted, as if someone had painted flames through the shimmering brown. Her face was heart shaped, her expression even more solemn than her daughter’s. As if she had forgotten how to smile.
And no wonder, if she set fires for a hobby.
Even if she was innocent of that, she might have treated the flu patients from Silver Rapids improperly, as the current rumors unearthed by Colleen indicated.
Two people had died from that flu outbreak, right here at Gilpin Hospital. Two of Dr. Kelley Stanton’s patients.
Did she know anything about that flu? Its origin? Whether it was actually an outbreak of Q fever, antibodies for which had been found in the blood of sheep on a ranch that had already been investigated by Colorado Confidential?
Finding out might help rescue a child even younger than her own sweet daughter. A child who had been kidnapped, whose mother had caught the flu and whose kidnapping could in some way be related to that very strange epidemic in Silver Rapids.
The lovely Dr. Stanton just might be in the middle of the whole thing.
Lovely? Hell, she was extraordinary-looking. Shawn had an urge not only to draw her caricature, but to paint her.
Nude.
He laughed ruefully aloud.
“What’s so funny, Shawn?” Jenny asked.
“I just thought of a joke.” Yeah. Very funny. He had a very sudden, very real urge to make love to this kid’s mother. A possible arsonist, of all people.
There was nothing he hated more than someone who set fires.
Someone like that had damn near ruined his life.
He turned to little Teddy, who sat at the table beside him.
“Here you are. Here’s your kitty and you, together.”
“Thanks!”
Shawn couldn’t help but feel a burst of pleasure at the honest wonder and gratitude in the little boy’s fervent exclamation.
“Me next,” chorused the other kids.
Shawn started on his next work of art. Maybe he’d found his way to manage this assignment after all.
He’d begun to make friends with little Jenny Stanton.
Now all he had to do was get to know her mother well enough to start asking questions. A lot of them.
And the fact this woman made his fingers itch to touch her… Hell, he’d just have to get over it.
Chapter Two
Despite the bustle of people hurrying by, Kelley walked slowly down the hall as she left KidClub, wondering whether she should go back. Check on Jenny.
Make sure Shawn Jameson remained in control of all those rambunctious young rascals in his charge.
Not that she had any interest in seeing the handsome caricature-drawing cowboy again. But she fretted about her daughter and Jenny’s transition back into day care, today and every day.
No, things would be fine. She had to stop worrying so much.
As if she could. About Jenny or anything else in her life lately.
Resolutely, she picked up her pace.
The scent of fresh paint still hung in the air. The repaired walls were a lighter shade this time, though still a pale peach. After the fire, they’d been smoke-stained and dark, and the place had smelled awful. Most of the signs and fixtures had had to be replaced, too.
She turned the corner at the end of the hall and nearly ran into a cart full of cleaning supplies.
“Hello, Dr. Stanton.”
“Good morning, Juan,” she said to the tall, thin man beside