Double Identity. Diane Burke
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head. “No. When I was little, I used to try and make things out of mud pies. Dad sensed I had a drop of creativity of my own. He surprised me with clay and a small kiln.”
“You sculpt?”
Sophie nodded. “Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m not…I mean, I am but…”
“Remind me to show you some of my work. Maybe I’ll even let you try it sometime. There’s something awesome about feeling a slab of clay ooze through your fingers. Kneading it. Molding it into something unique and beautiful.”
Unique and beautiful.
His thoughts exactly as he stared into her upturned face.
“Sometimes I think God gifts the sculptor with just a tiny bit of insight into what it must have been like for Him when He created us out of dust,” Sophie said.
“I thought you didn’t believe in God.” Cain grinned at her.
“I believe in God. I’m just not on speaking terms with Him right now.”
“Really? Do you think that’s wise? Who shut the door? You or Him?”
Sophie chewed on her lower lip and lowered her head.
Not wanting her to slip back into a morose mood, Cain gripped her elbow and steered her toward the kitchen. “C’mon, let me help you clean up this mess. Find me a broom and I’ll sweep up. But don’t you dare tell Holly I had anything to do with housework. She’s been after me for years to clean up after myself at the house, and I’ll never hear the end of it if she learns I actually know how to use a broom.”
Cain followed Sophie from room to room as she surveyed the damage to her home and belongings. Her shoulders sagged and each step seemed difficult for her. But she didn’t cry anymore.
Thank you, Lord, for small favors. You know how a woman’s tears make me feel so helpless. And that leads to bad decisions. Fatal decisions.
They had just come down the short hall when the sheriff stepped into their path.
“Ms. Clarkston, I’m fixin’ to head out. We’ve done all we can do for now.”
Sophie wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. She looked pitiful. Fragile. Defeated. Alone. A man’s heart would have to be made of ice-cold steel not to be moved. Apparently, the sheriff agreed with Cain’s line of thought. He placed a comforting hand on Sophie’s arms and his voice softened. “This is a lousy way to welcome you to Promise, Ms. Clarkston. And I’m really sorry that you have to suffer through it.”
He stepped back and straightened his hat. “I’m planning on getting to the bottom of this, ma’am. You can count on it. And as soon as I get the chance to talk to your daddy, I’m sure we’ll be able to clear up some of the misunderstandings.”
Sophie’s shoulders stiffened. She offered a weak smile, nodded but remained silent.
“Meanwhile, I’m leaving you in good hands.” The sheriff gestured to Cain. “I’m sure he plans to stay here and help you clean up this mess. Isn’t that right, son?” Cain smiled. Son. He hadn’t been called that since his grammar school days. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. I’m on it.”
The sheriff nodded, signaled to his men and they left.
Sophie didn’t release a breath until she saw their cars disappear down the dirt road, spewing a cloud of dust.
“What’s going to happen when the sheriff discovers my dad’s information is fake?” she asked in a soft, unsteady voice.
“I imagine he’ll come back with a lot more questions.” Cain lifted her chin with his finger and gazed into her turbulent green eyes. “But since you don’t know any more than he does, you have nothing to be afraid of.”
“Right.” Sophie offered a tentative smile. “I didn’t do anything wrong and I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. You don’t have anything to worry about from the sheriff.” Cain gestured around the living room. “But someone is going to a lot of trouble to make sure you worry about them.”
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