Jillian Hart

Precious Blessings


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couldn’t believe she’d do something so wrong as to shoplift. It was out of the question. She knew better. He’d raised her better than that. Even though he could plainly see her unsuitable clothes and makeup, he had to cling to that truth. He couldn’t take it if he lost Hayden the way he’d lost his wife.

      He studied Jan in the rearview mirror. Yep, there was a flash of anxiety stark on her face. So, it was just like he figured. She was the problem. Relief coursed through him. “You girls bring your book bags and come with me. We’ll get this straightened out with the bookstore lady.”

      “But I’ll be late gettin’ home,” Jan piped up.

      He wasn’t fooled; he could sense the fear amping up a notch. “Don’t you worry. I’ll talk to your mom if she has a problem. This won’t take more than a few minutes. Now march.”

      He figured being late home was about to be the least of Jan’s problems.

      The late-February storm hit him like the dead of winter. He hadn’t acclimated yet to this much colder climate. It hadn’t helped that he’d been out in this weather all night. As a new member to the state’s ranks, he’d pulled swing shift and would be doing that for the next year at least, before he could hope to move to a day shift. He was exhausted, but he didn’t mind working nights or in this bitter cold, not when he considered how good this move was for his daughter.

      How good this move was going to be, he corrected, once she found a few better friends. Forget Phoenix’s heat and sun. What mattered was keeping his daughter growing up the right way.

      “Hayden, what are you doing? Go back and get your book bag.”

      “But Daddy—”

      “Do it.”

      She heaved a dramatic sigh and trudged back to the cruiser. He kept one eye on Jan, who was frowning into the store window. The girl was obviously watching the store lady in her sensible shoes. Jan could take some lessons in sensible attire.

      “Hayden, what are you doing?”

      “Nothing, Daddy.”

      “Are you trying to take something out of your book bag?”

      “Just looking for my lip gloss.”

      “Forget it. Close the door. Come on.” First things first. He’d deal with this situation, then the makeup.

      Hayden slung the strap over her shoulder and marched right past him. She and Jan fell into stride side by side, sharing a look he couldn’t name.

      He followed them to the door. The trouble was that Hayden was choosing the same sort of friends she’d had back in Arizona. Well, he’d fix that right now. Sure of the outcome, he motioned for the girls to go in ahead of him, not at all surprised when the alarm clanged like an air-raid siren. Both girls jumped, and he watched Jan’s chin shoot up in sheer rebellion.

      Guilty, he figured. He watched his daughter’s head hang and thought, good. Maybe she’d see the kind of girl Jan was.

      To his direct left he spotted the pair of local law enforcement boys standing at the checkout counter along with that woman. All three had turned at the sound of the alarm, which fell silent again.

      So, they’d been filling a report? It looked like Jan had just landed herself in some trouble. He was sorry for that, but maybe there was a silver thread in this. At least it would be a lesson for his little girl. “Hand the officers your bag, Jan.”

      “That’s like so totally not fair. What are you, like a crooked cop?”

      “Zip it.” And just where had Jan gotten that attitude? His gaze arrowed to his daughter, who was gazing innocently at the ceiling. Her sweetheart face was flushed bright red. He couldn’t imagine how any amount of embarrassment could show through so much makeup.

      “Do, it Jan. Hey, ma’am—” He motioned to that woman stalking toward him. “Here’s your culprit. Satisfied?”

      “Hardly.”

      As she snapped closer on those shapely heels, he saw her for the first time in full light. Snow still melted in the liquid sunshine of her long, sleek hair, which framed her intelligent, oval face. He was helpless to look away from her.

      She wasn’t pretty. No, that was too plain a word. She wasn’t beautiful, that was too ordinary. He didn’t want to like this woman, but he did appreciate the natural look of lush lashes over her big, violet-blue eyes.

      Her perfect nose had an elegant slope and her high delicate cheekbones were classic, not that he ought to be noticing. She had a soft mouth with tiny smile lines in the corners, as if she laughed often. Her chin, dainty and finely cut, complemented her face to perfection.

      No, she wasn’t beautiful, she was more than that. Striking, that’s what she was. Classic. She was a real impressive lady, and she dressed the part in a tailored jacket, blouse and skirt. Lovely.

      Not that he was noticing. Merely an observation.

      He had a hard time being civil to a woman who had wrongly accused his little girl. Or to the teenager who had actually done the stealing.

      “I’m going home. Later, Hayden,” Jan said, then marched right back the way she came.

      Not his problem, he thought as the door swung shut behind her. He’d delivered the true culprit. It was up to the local boys to deal with Jan. He shot a hard look at that woman, who was glaring up at him as if he were personally responsible.

      “I’m taking my daughter home.” He laid one hand on Hayden’s shoulder to steer her back through the detectors.

      “Excuse me, Mr. Munroe?”

      “You’re testing my patience, lady.” He turned on his heel. Behind her the two officers looked less than certain. What was their problem? “Look, I’ve been on shift since six o’clock last night. It’s now 3:56 p.m.”

      “I’m aware of the time, Mr. Munroe.”

      “There was a semi jackknifed on the interstate just out of the city limits, and I spent most of the night and half the day seeing to the clean-up and the investigation. I’m dead on my feet.” He looked past the unhappy woman to the uniforms standing beside her. “I’d appreciate it if you boys would wait to give me a call if you need a statement.”

      Sheer exhaustion had him steering his Hayden back toward the door.

      “Uh, Mr. Munroe?” That woman—that extraordinarily annoying woman—called after him. “Wait—”

      He kept going. Maybe by tomorrow he would have cooled down enough to offer that woman the apology he probably owed her for his snarky mood. Even if she had wrongly accused his daughter.

      A deafening claxon squealed right in his ear. He saw the guilty look sneak across his little girl’s face and still his denial remained. Not his Hayden. Maybe Jan had put the stolen items in Hayden’s bag. Maybe they had accidentally fallen off the shelf and into her bag.

      He was desperate and he knew it, but it simply couldn’t be true. His daughter? His Hayden had said she didn’t do it. She’d lied, too. Anger began to huff up with each strangled breath.

      “Daddy, I can explain. I didn’t know.” She looked at him desperately with a helpless gesture and those wide innocent eyes.

      He wanted to believe her. Except his common sense had kicked in and, fueled with the rage, he was trembling with temper. Careful, controlled, he gritted his teeth to hold back the overwhelming urge to shout, a natural reaction to a teenager’s misbehavior. “Take what you stole out of your bag and give it back.”

      “But, Daddy, I—”

      “You heard me. Do it.”

      Hayden gave a put-upon sigh but bowed her head and started digging through her things. It took all his effort and a quick prayer for self-control to stand there and not explode like a lit keg of ten-year-old dynamite.