hands out of his pockets and walked over to the window. The bright light outside lighted his tall, muscular body. He was very handsome, with his dark hair and eyes. Elizabeth could see why he’d acquired his reputation. If his brothers were half as good-looking, then it’s no wonder the town found the family a great source of gossip.
“Tell me about your ex-husband,” he said.
She felt as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold water in her face. Every muscle in her body tensed. She had to put the photos down when she realized she was mangling them. She folded her hands in her lap and forced herself to relax.
“I don’t have an ex-husband. I told you, I was never married.” She could feel the heat of her flush climbing from the scoop neck of her T-shirt, up to her face. It had been six months, yet she was still embarrassed to remember what had happened. Would this ever get easier?
“You’re sure?”
“I would hardly forget being married.”
He walked to the sofa and braced his hands against the tall back. “The reason I ask is because when I registered Mandy for school, she got confused about her last name. When I first asked, she said it was Proctor. I reminded her that your last name is Abbott. She said that was her last name, too. So which is it, Elizabeth?”
He was still handsome as sin, but the friendly, teasing man who had shared breakfast with her had disappeared. In his place was a probing stranger. For the first time she saw the dark side of him. No doubt he made an excellent sheriff.
But she couldn’t tell him the truth. It was too awful, too embarrassing, too unbelievable. She had trouble believing it had happened, and she’d lived through it. Besides, she didn’t want to see that pitying look in his eyes. She didn’t want to know he thought of her as less, or stupid. No, the truth was her own secret, one she would never share. She could, however, tell him part of the truth.
She raised her hand to flick her hair back over her shoulder. “Proctor is Mandy’s father’s last name. She used it for a while, but now she’s using my name.”
“I see.” He drew his eyebrows together. “You mentioned you had rented a house here in town.”
What did that have to do with anything? She nodded slowly. “I can take possession on October first.”
“Is your furniture in storage?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
He moved around the sofa until he was standing in front of her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. She wished he was wearing his Stetson so she didn’t have to see the cold black swirling through his irises.
“Is it?”
“No. I don’t have any furniture. I left it all behind in L.A. I didn’t want to move it. Travis, why are you acting like this? Why are you asking all these questions?”
“So you have no furniture, Mandy has very few toys. In fact, all your possessions can fit in the trunk of your car.” He wasn’t asking a question.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to stand up and stare him in the eye, but the tension was making her side ache too much. She could only sit on the edge of the sofa and fight the fear.
“Travis—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I want the truth, Elizabeth. Did you kidnap Mandy?”
She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d slapped her. All the color left her face and her lips parted, but she couldn’t—or didn’t—speak.
Travis noted her reactions, the cynical lawman side of him wondering if she was the genuine article or a very good actress. The male part of him, that part of his being that had reacted to her presence in his life, wanted to believe. He wanted her to be just a single mom looking for something better for herself and her kid.
It shouldn’t matter, he told himself. He wasn’t going to get involved. It would be better for his hormonal state if she was some kind of criminal. After his marriage had collapsed he’d acknowledged the futility of ignoring the truth. As long as he had Haynes blood flowing through his veins he didn’t have a prayer of having a decent long-lasting relationship. So he shouldn’t mind if everything about Elizabeth Abbott-Proctor, or whatever her name was, turned out to be a lie.
Except he knew it was too late. He couldn’t get involved with her, but that didn’t stop him from liking her. And Mandy. The kid had him wrapped around her finger. This morning—
Can it, he ordered himself. He couldn’t afford to think about how great it had been to take Mandy to her first day of school. So what if her trusting smile had given him a lump in his throat? Marriage, a wife and kids weren’t for him. He didn’t have whatever mysterious something it took to be a decent husband and father. He had to focus on Elizabeth and the mystery in her life. He might not be good domestic material, but he was a damn fine sheriff.
Elizabeth glanced up at him, then turned away. “It’s a very effective technique,” she said, her voice low and strained. “Glaring at people like that. I’m sure most of your prisoners crack under the pressure.”
Only then did he realize how long he’d been staring at her. But he didn’t look away. “Just tell me the truth. I’d have to be blind not to see there’s some kind of mystery in your life.”
She stood up slowly. Her mouth twisted, but he sensed it was from the strain on her incision rather than fear. When she was standing, she squared her shoulders and looked up at him. Emotional and physical pain darkened her wide eyes. All the color had faded from her cheeks, leaving her pale and drawn. He could see the beginning of tiny lines around her eyes.
Her long hair fanned out over her shoulders. He wanted to touch that hair, touch her and pull her close. He wanted to ease her pain and promise it was going to be all right. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how it was going to be.
“I don’t know whether to be furious or grateful,” she said, and stepped away from him.
He knew she was too weak from the surgery to run, but instinctively his body tensed as he prepared to grab her if she went too far. He needn’t have worried. She circled behind the sofa and leaned against the back.
“There’s no mystery, Travis,” she said softly. She studied the leather couch and traced a line of stitching back and forth with her finger. “I’m not and never have been married. Sam Proctor is Mandy’s father. Our relationship—” She hesitated, then drew in a deep breath and looked at him. “Our relationship doesn’t exist anymore. Sam is out of our lives. I came up here to make a fresh start. I left behind everything Sam had given me, including the clothes and toys and furniture. I only brought what is mine and Mandy’s. Sam signed custody of Mandy over to me. I didn’t have time to open a bank account and get a safety-deposit box, so I have the papers with me. I would be happy to show you her birth certificate and anything else you’d like to see.”
“I don’t need to see the papers.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He didn’t have to. They both knew she’d been lying. Oh, not about Mandy. He did believe that. It almost made sense, the leaving everything behind part. It seemed like an expensive, impulsive gesture, but nothing about women surprised him.
She’d only lied once. When she’d told him there was no mystery in her life. There was a damn big one and he was no closer to figuring it out. She’d said she’d never married. He almost believed that. So what did that mean? That she’d shacked up with some guy and had his baby?
He studied her. With her hair loose around her face, she looked younger than twenty-eight. Had she gotten involved with a married man? He didn’t want to believe that