his life-style had been waking up in his own bed every morning. Every time Travis had heard his mother and father fighting about his father’s infidelities, Earl had glossed over his behavior by saying he always woke up in his bed. What more could a woman want?
Travis had been there once, when it had happened. A woman in her early twenties had been in town visiting family. They’d met in the hardware store. Within fifteen minutes, Earl’d had the woman eating out of his hand and leaving the hardware store to get a drink. Travis had run away as fast as he could. He’d only been fourteen at the time, but he’d known what was happening. He hadn’t made it home before he’d had to stop and throw up in the bushes. He’d cried then for all he’d never had, cried for the loss of a father who was like other dads. A father who cared more about his wife and his sons than other women. It had been the last time he’d shed tears.
“Stop staring at me,” Elizabeth said, and spun away. The quick movement caused her to gasp and clutch her side.
He moved toward her, but didn’t touch her.
“I’m not going to faint or anything,” she said, straightening. “I just wish you’d stop looking at me like I… Jeez, I don’t know. I haven’t committed a crime, okay? Isn’t that enough for you?”
Anger radiated out from her, and that more than anything caused him to trust the feeling in his gut that said she told him the truth.
“I guess it has to be.”
“I didn’t ask to come here with you and I’ll be happy to leave.” She started for the door. “If Louise can’t give me a lift back to the motel, then I’ll call a cab.”
He 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