a hand over the mark, she replied, “I fell.” She didn’t add she’d been nearly run down in the street. And almost flattened by a train.
Ellie slipped her hand into Rachelle’s. “Is my daddy helping you?”
Carter certainly had his hands full with this little perceptive child. “Yes. Yes, he is.”
And she couldn’t begin to express her gratitude to him for not only saving her life but also for being a path to furthering her career.
“Are you married?”
Taken aback by the little girl’s question, Rachelle glanced up to see Carter had paused midstep as if he’d heard his daughter’s query. His lips twisted in a rueful grimace before he turned and walked into Noah’s office, closing the door behind him.
Smothering a grin, Rachelle shook her head at the little girl. “No, I’m not.” And she had no plans to be for the foreseeable future.
Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That’s good.”
Deciding it was best not to pursue that comment, Rachelle asked, “School must be starting soon, right?”
The little girl released Rachelle’s hand and hopped onto her father’s desk chair. With the heel of her hand on the desk, she sent the chair spinning. “Yep. In a couple weeks. I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Why not?”
Ellie stopped spinning and stared at her. “It’s school.”
As if that should explain everything. Rachelle laughed. “Well, there is that. But aren’t you excited to see all your friends and have recess and art? Art was always my favorite subject. I could get messy and not get in trouble.” Though with budget cuts she wasn’t sure art was taught anymore in public schools.
Ellie resumed her spinning. “Oh yes. I’m excited to see Kelly and Greta. I’ll be in Mrs. Lenny’s class. We’ll get to do a garden project. My daddy said I could bring butterflies.”
“He did, did he? That’s fabulous. You have a good daddy.”
“Yep.” Ellie stopped the chair to peer at her. “He’d be a good catch, as my grandma says.”
Uh-oh. Was she trying to play matchmaker?
Not going to happen. What to say that wouldn’t offend or be rude? Rachelle settled for, “Interesting.”
Ignoring Ellie’s assessing gaze, Rachelle busied herself visually memorizing everything on Carter’s desk. Everything in its place. Pens and pencils corralled in an NYPD mug. Reports stacked with clean edges on one side of the desktop while a dormant computer screen and keyboard took up the other half. No dust bunnies, either.
A family photo of the Jamesons sitting next to the computer caught her attention. Recently taken, by the looks of it. Carter and Ellie, much as the little girl appeared now, were crouched down in the front row, while Carter’s three brothers, including the murdered Jordan, stood behind them. Snuggled up to Jordan was a pretty blonde woman. No doubt Jordan’s widow, Katie.
Next to the Jameson family photo sat a gilded framed wedding photo of a young-looking Carter standing with his radiant bride. Ellie got her blond hair and delicate features from her mother.
A pang tugged at Rachelle’s heart. No wonder Carter wanted Ellie to have butterflies in her life. They represented renewal and hope. “You can’t have a garden without butterflies.”
Ellie pushed off the desk and sent the chair whirling in a circle. “I have some carrot seeds that Aunt Katie got for me.”
“That was nice of her.”
“She said I should contribute to the vegetables, too.”
A big word for a little girl. No doubt she was repeating what she’d heard. “Katie’s a smart woman. Do you see her often?”
Ellie stopped spinning again. The corners of her sweet little mouth pinched inward. “She lives with us. She’s very sad because Uncle Jordy went to Heaven.”
Heart aching for this family’s loss, Rachelle said, gently, “That’s totally understandable. I’m sure you’re sad, too.”
The girl’s eyes misted. She nodded. “I miss Uncle Jordy. He gave the best tickles. My daddy is sad, too. He misses Uncle Jordy and...because my mommy went to Heaven.” Ellie’s gaze was on the wedding photo.
Rachelle blinked to repel the sudden moisture gathering in her own eyes. “Do you remember her?”
Ellie shook her head. “No. Mommy died right after I was born.”
Flooded with sympathy for this young little girl and her father, Rachelle didn’t quite know what else to say. What could she say? The little girl had experienced more heartbreak than most people in her short time on earth. “So, does Frosty live with you guys?”
Ellie sent the chair spinning once more. “He sure does. Also Scotty—he’s Uncle Noah’s dog—and Eddie, Uncle Zach’s dog. But Uncle Zach and Eddie moved out.” Her little brow furrowed. “Snapper lived downstairs with Aunt Katie and Uncle Jordan, but we don’t know where he is right now.”
Rachelle remembered the name from the news reports. Snapper was Chief Jordan Jameson’s missing dog.
“Now Mutt and Jeff live with us, too.” Ellie giggled. “Those aren’t their real names. That’s just what Dad calls them.”
“Your uncles?”
“No, silly.” Ellie waved a hand in a swatting motion. “The puppies. They are both girls, but Daddy still calls them by boy names. They are with us to be—” She paused and appeared to concentrate as she said, “Socialized.” She grinned. “But they’re gonna be police dogs just like Frosty and Scotty. Frosty’s not too fond of them. They get on his nerves. He growls, but they don’t care. They just run right on top of him. Scotty’s better with them. He just walks away when they bug him.”
“Sounds entertaining.” She would like to see the dogs and puppies together. Rachelle glanced at one dog in question. Frosty looked so peaceful lying there with his snout on top of his crossed paws. He opened one eye as if he sensed her attention.
Awareness cascaded over her flesh and she turned to find Carter approaching. The man exuded vitality even from five feet away. She mentally shook off the odd sensation.
“Ellie, sweetie,” Carter said. “Can you hang with Frosty for a moment while I show Rachelle something?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Ellie crawled off the chair and flopped down on the round bed on the floor, practically lying on top of the dog. Frosty’s ears twitched, his tail thumped, but otherwise he made no move.
Amazed at how calm and loving the dog was with Ellie, Rachelle asked, “Are you sure he’s a police dog?”
“He can be fierce when he needs to be,” Carter told her.
She wasn’t sure she believed his assurance. “If you say so.”
“He has a really good track record of taking down criminals. He’s a multipurpose trained dog. Part of our job with the transit bureau is public relations.”
“Like with the little girl and her father today.” Rachelle had been surprised to see the child petting the working dog when she’d approached Carter.
“Exactly.” He cupped her elbow. “Come with me.”
She sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact but forced herself to focus on the excitement of being given a glimpse of the rest of the precinct. Anticipating a tour of the facility, she was surprised by their first stop. He led her into a room filled with video monitors. A curvy female officer with