Betrayed Birthright. Liz Shoaf

the flames.

      God’s house was slowly being reduced to a smoldering heap of burning timber. Abby curled her hands at her sides and gritted her teeth. “This is my fault. I led whoever is after me to Blessing and now they’ve destroyed the church.”

      Before Noah could offer platitudes, she turned to him. Soot covered his face, but she didn’t see any burns. “You saved my life. Are you okay?”

      “Abby, this isn’t your fault. We’ll find the person responsible.”

      “Yes, we will, and they’re going to go to jail for burning this beautiful building. And my piano.”

      Cooper joined them. “The fire chief says it’s a total loss. I hope the church has insurance.” A sad, quiet moment passed as they stood, staring at the burning building.

      Abby spoke up first. “I’m now taking an active role in this investigation, so get used to it.”

      His sudden grin threw her off balance.

      “What?”

      His smile widened. “Ever since meeting you, I’ve thought of you as a steel magnolia. A sweet Southern belle with a spine of steel.”

      The description stunned her for a moment, but then she realized she liked it. She liked it a lot. “You can thank my grandmother for the steel side of my personality. At least you didn’t call me Tinker Bell.”

      “Now that you mention it—”

      “Don’t even say it.”

      * * *

      The next morning, Abby cracked her eyes open and carefully stretched her body to work out the kinks. Before going to bed, she had taken a long, hot shower to get rid of the horrid, smoky stench and relax her muscles. Hitting the hard ground and having a large man slam his body on top of hers had left a few bruises. But she wasn’t complaining. Noah had saved her life.

      Bates jumped on the bed, sat on his haunches and stared at her. She chuckled at the dog’s antics. “Come on, Bates, baby, give Mama a morning snuggle. I sure could use one.”

      He licked her face and rooted his nose against her neck. She laughed, but after a few minutes pushed the dog away. “Enough. I have to get moving. I have a ton of things to do today.”

      The familiar interlude put things in perspective.

      Abby put the finishing touches on her makeup and wondered if Noah was up. He had insisted on staying in her guest bedroom—she would never tell Grammy that a man she wasn’t married to had stayed in her house overnight. The doorbell rang, and Bates was already standing at attention in front of the door when she hit the top of the stairs. The dog was alert but not concerned. He always stayed quiet, but she was beginning to understand his body language. The person ringing her doorbell was not an enemy.

      Noah sped out of the kitchen just as she reached the foyer. “I asked Cooper to bring me some clothes.”

      She smiled. “Good morning, Sheriff.”

      He didn’t smile back. Something was wrong. He opened the door and there stood Cooper with a suitcase in hand.

      “Got here as soon as I could, Sheriff. Ms. Newsome’s cat got stuck in a tree again and I had to get him down. Sam’s an ornery old tabby. Bit me on the hand while I was rescuing him.”

      Noah grabbed the suitcase. “Thanks. Call if you need me.”

      He was about to shut the door but Abby scooted around him. She frowned at Noah as she passed and then blessed Cooper with a big smile. “Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?”

      Cooper reacted to the dark look on Noah’s face. “No, ma’am. I appreciate it, but I have to get back to the station.”

      The deputy practically ran off the porch before Abby could say a word. She rounded on Noah. “That was rude.”

      He ignored her and turned toward the kitchen. “Come on. I got a pot of coffee going.”

      She followed him, fixed a cup for herself and sat down across from him. They stared at each other. The situation reminded her of two circling dogs. She didn’t care for the suspicious look in his eyes. She’d always been a straightforward person, and she leaned on that trait now, even as her heart plummeted.

      “Spit it out, Sheriff. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

      * * *

      Noah wanted to believe Abby Mayfield was exactly who she claimed to be, but during his tenure at the FBI, he’d learned things were seldom as they appeared. He had to separate his emotions from the facts and do his job.

      Firming his resolve, he organized his thoughts and maintained a mask of professionalism. “I need more information on your parents’ histories. Did they always live in North Carolina, or is it possible they lived elsewhere before you were born? Anything you can remember will help.”