Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart Book 1) Read online

  At first, the woman and kid had left a trail easy enough for even the cops to follow—if they’d bothered. Cooper and his men had traced them to a small town just inside the Georgia state line. A waitress in the cafe attached to the bus station recognized their pictures right away. Or more specifically, she remembered the kid. Evidently, the child had been cranky, and the waitress had had a rough night. She’d been in no mood for a toddler’s tantrums.

  Unfortunately, the waitress didn’t know where they’d gone from there, nor had she seen them again. The only thing she knew for certain was that they hadn’t got back on the bus with the other passengers. The kid had still been fussing when the bus pulled away.

  Cooper had left the diner feeling optimistic. The town was small, and if Maura and her daughter were still here, someone else was bound to have noticed them. Finding her was going to be easier than he thought.

  Then nothing.

  For weeks, his men combed the area, checking all the routes out of town. They showed pictures at every bus station for a hundred miles. Then they checked all the motels and boarding houses, both locally and in the surrounding towns.

  Nothing.

  No one remembered seeing them, or if anyone did recognize the photos, they weren’t talking. It crossed Cooper’s mind that she might have gone to Atlanta. Given the right circumstances and enough cash, that’s what he would have done. From there, a person could hop a flight that would take them anywhere in the world. And the authorities probably wouldn’t check the passenger lists on all flights out of Atlanta for a woman missing from Miami.

  It would have been a smart move.

  But everything he’d been able to find out about Maura Anderson told him she was broke. So he doubted whether there was going to be any quick plane rides out of the country for her and her daughter. And he didn’t think Atlanta itself was her destination. It was too close to home.

  Not for the first time, he wondered why she hadn’t gone to her father. From what he knew of her situation, it was a case Jacob Anderson would have devoured. And if not, well, there was always the money. Then Cooper remembered the cold gray of Anderson’s eyes.

  Yeah, he thought, maybe I do understand why she didn’t go to Jacob Anderson.

  Still, he had a job to do. And he wasn’t considered the best for nothing. Finally, he’d followed a hunch and gotten lucky.

  Cooper drained the last of his coffee, climbed to his feet, and pulled out his wallet. First, he tossed a couple of bills on the cheap Formica table, and then paused, considering. Finally, he pulled out a third and folded it in quarters. Walking over to the counter, he smiled at the woman who’d just reopened his case.

  “Here you go, May.” He tucked the folded hundred-dollar bill into the top pocket of her uniform, letting his fingers linger a few seconds too long. “Thanks.”

  May beamed her appreciation. “You find that woman, dahlin’, and you tell her May sent you.”

  With an effort, Cooper returned her smile. “I’ll do that.” He turned to leave, but May’s voice stopped him as he got to the door.

  “You get back this way,” she called. “You look me up, you hear?”

  Cooper opened the door and turned, giving her his best smile. “Sure thing,” he said with a nod. Then he was outside in the hot, late afternoon sun. He paused, taking a deep breath to clear his head. “Sure thing,” he repeated to himself, and pulled out his phone as he headed across the gravel parking lot toward his car.

  On the other end, it took three rings before Anderson answered his private line. “Yes,” came the familiar voice on the other end.

  “I picked up her trail.” Cooper grinned, pleased with himself.

  “Where?” There was a slight change in the cool voice, excitement maybe, and Cooper knew he’d broken through the other man’s veneer.

  “She was in a place called Dapper, Mississippi.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Three months. She worked as a waitress at a truck stop outside of town.” He paused a moment to organize his facts. “She shared a room with a woman named May who has a son a little younger than Katie. May and Maura had an arrangement. They worked opposite shifts, so they watched each other’s kid on their off time.” Cooper glanced back at the dingy diner.

  “And?” Anderson prodded.

  Cooper hesitated a moment before continuing. “One night your daughter just left town. Without warning. Not a word to anybody. This May woman’s really ticked off and was more than willing to spill her guts. Evidently, your daughter left May with no one to watch her son the next day.”

  “I see.” There was silence on the other end for a moment, and Cooper imagined Anderson struggling to maintain his composure. “Where did she go from there?”

  “There’s only one way out of this town if you don’t have a car, and that’s the bus.”

  “And you’ll check on it?”

  “Already done. It didn’t take much to jog the night clerk’s memory once I woke him. Seems your daughter left here on a 2:00 a.m. bus heading north.”

  “Good.”

  Cooper smiled. “That’s why you hired me.”

  “Call me next week.”

  “Yeah. Oh, and one more thing.” Cooper paused, relishing this last bit of information. “She’s going by a different name.”

  “Yes?”

  “Maureen Adams.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The day of Wyattville’s annual Apple Blossom Festival dawned clear and bright. Having promised Katie that he would escort her and her mother to the festival, Alan rose early. First, he checked in at the station to make sure nothing needed his immediate attention. Then he went about getting ready, humming as he contemplated what the day would bring.

  It had been a long week. Once again, he’d purposely avoided Maureen, this time to let her stew. He’d made his position pretty clear the night of their trip to Seattle, and he’d given her all week to get used to the idea. She’d had time, more than enough. Today, he planned to make something else clear. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  He arrived at Rita’s right at eight, ready for breakfast. With easy familiarity, he walked around back and let himself in through the kitchen. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee and frying bacon made his mouth water. But the sight of Maureen in a floral print skirt and soft blue blouse aroused a different type of hunger.

  He let his gaze rest on her for a moment. He’d never seen her in anything but jeans. He liked the way the fabric of the skirt floated around her legs, and how the color of her blouse emphasized the blue of her eyes. She looked soft and feminine, and utterly alluring.

  Maureen met his gaze and colored visibly. Then defiance sparked in her eyes and she turned away. Alan grinned at her reaction. Yes indeed, this was going to be one fine day.

  “ ‘Morning, ladies,” he said, forcing himself to head first for Rita, who stood over the stove. Dropping a kiss onto her cheek, he headed next for Millie, who brushed him aside with a wave of her hand.

  “Kiss! Kiss!” insisted Katie with outstretched arms. Alan went over to the little girl, rescuing her from the confines of her high chair. Lifting her high above his head, he planted noisy kisses on her bare belly to the accompaniment of her delighted squeals.

  “No!” she screeched in between fits of giggles.

  Alan brought her back down to eye level. She captured his neck with her chubby arms and smacked him on the mouth.

  “Yuck,” he said in between her wet kisses. “Girl kisses!”

  Katie giggled and continued her assault on his face. Finally, as he settled her on his hip, she said, “Mommy’s turn.”

  Alan turned and caught Maureen’s warning glare. Ignoring it, he inched toward her. “What about it, Mommy? Are you up for a morning kiss?”

  Maureen flushed prettily. “I think I’ll pass, thank you.” Sidestepping him, she headed for the refrigerator.

  “Aw, come on.” Alan put a hurt tone into his voice.

  She returned to the table
with orange juice, trying to ignore him. But he knew from her bright cheeks that she wasn’t quite as oblivious to him as she wanted everyone to think.

  “Kiss her! Kiss her!” Katie insisted.

  Maureen, obviously having had enough of her daughter’s antics, reached out and took the squirming child from Alan. “Come on, Katie, time to eat your breakfast.”

  “Gee, Mom,” Alan said, dropping onto a vacant chair. “You’re no fun.” Catching her exasperated glare, he grinned. “So, is everyone ready for the festival?” he asked, thinking it best that he change the subject, at least for the moment.

  “You mean now that you’ve got Katie all wound up,” Millie stated in her usual no-nonsense manner.

  Rita joined them at the table and smiled affectionately at Maureen. “Isn’t that what holidays are for?”

  Maureen smiled in return, thawing somewhat before older woman’s warmth. “I guess so.” Then, shrugging in resignation, she turned to Alan. “Do you think you can behave for the rest of breakfast?” The smile in her eyes softened her words.

  “I can behave.” His gaze locked on hers, emphasizing his words. “For a while, anyway.”

  He nearly laughed aloud at her startled expression and the color that once again flared in her cheeks. But he didn’t look away or temper the meaning of his words. He meant what he’d said. He would behave. For a while.

  Breakfast continued to be jovial, with Alan and Katie setting the tone. It was almost ten by the time they set off for the center of town. Millie was manning one of the quilt booths, so she’d left earlier. Katie rode on Alan’s shoulders, while Rita and Maureen walked alongside.

  When they reached Main Street, Rita waved goodbye and headed for the booth she’d promised to work. Returning Katie to her mother, Alan took Maureen’s hand and led them into the growing crowd of people heading toward the town square.

  Wyattville’s festival was unlike anything Maureen had ever experienced. She’d expected it to be more like an overgrown school bazaar, similar to those her high school used to throw to earn money for band uniforms. Instead, it was a full-fledged fair, without the seaminess that usually accompanied the state fairs she’d been to.

  On the north side of the town square, rows of booths sold handmade goods of all varieties—pottery, quilts, furniture, jewelry, macramé, stained glass, artwork—almost anything made by a craftsman was for sale.

  “I had no idea there would be so many wonderful things,” Maureen said, stopping to admire a display of children’s smocked dresses. “These are beautiful,” she said to the young woman behind the booth. “What did you use to do the smocking?”

  “I do them by hand,” the woman answered with a smile.

  “By hand?”

  “Everything here is handmade,” Alan said, moving up next to Maureen. “It’s the only rule for setting up a booth.”

  “I have the perfect dress for your daughter.” Nodding toward Katie, the woman retrieved a royal blue dress from a nearby rack. “With those dark eyes and hair, it would look great.”

  Maureen smiled and shook her head. “You’re right, it’s really nice, but I can’t afford it. Thanks.”

  They drifted away from the display of children’s dresses and continued working their way down the rows of booths.

  “Where do all the artists come from?” Maureen asked a few minutes later.

  “All over,” Alan answered. “A lot of them are from around here. They live in the hills and come down every spring to sell what they’ve made. Others travel around. They go wherever there’s a show.” Maureen and Alan spent a while looking at the various work displayed, until Katie became restless. Then they headed toward the section of the festival devoted to rides and games.

  They had stopped at a shooting gallery, where Alan attempted to win Katie a big pink elephant, when Maureen spotted Tommy Simmons. He was with an older boy, walking among the crowd.

  “Can you watch Katie for a moment?” she asked Alan, who nodded but continued his attempt at knocking down floating ducks. “I’ll be right back.” She left Katie sitting next to him and worked her way through the crowd toward Tommy.

  “Hi, Tommy,” she called.

  Tommy stopped and turned. When he saw Maureen. he broke into a grin. “Howdy, ma’am.”

  “How are you?” Maureen asked, not knowing what else to say. Her mind raced to a dozen other questions she wanted to ask him, but she knew better than to voice any of those. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Great,” he answered.

  Maureen smiled warmly and turned to the other boy. “I’m Maureen Adams. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “This is my brother, Joey,” Tommy said, the pride evident in his voice.

  Maureen did her best to hide her surprise. Joey looked nothing like his younger brother. Where Tommy was small and fair, Joey was big and dark. He looked every bit of eighteen, though she knew he wasn’t yet sixteen. There were other differences, as well. Differences not so easily defined.

  “How are you doing, Joe?”

  Maureen turned abruptly at the sound of Alan’s voice behind her. He held Katie, who gripped a stuffed pink elephant. Without thinking, she took Katie from him, and Alan dropped his hands to his hips, facing the boys.

  “I’m okay, Sheriff,” Joey answered, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “You behaving yourself?”

  Maureen saw the anger flare in Joey’s eyes. “Alan,” she began, unable to stop herself from intervening in this boy’s defense. But when Joey’s angry gaze turned on her, she refrained from saying another word.

  Joey shifted his attention back to Alan. “Widow Cellar brought me and Tom into town. She’s working over at the quilting booth, if you want to ask her.”

  “It’s the truth, Sheriff,” added Tommy. “Honest.”

  Maureen shifted her gaze back to Alan. He looked as if he were considering challenging their answers. She grew irritated at his treatment of these boys.

  Then Alan nodded. “Okay, boys. I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t let me find out you’re lying.”

  “We ain’t lying,” Joey said flatly. “Come on, Tom, let’s get out of here.”

  Tommy shot Maureen an apologetic grin but followed his brother’s lead. She watched the boys disappear into the crowd and then turned on Alan. “What was that all about?”

  “Stay out of it, Maureen.”

  “Stay out of it!” The absolute arrogance of the man stunned her. “I was trying to talk to Tommy. You’re the one who came barreling up here with your macho sheriff attitude, challenging Joey.”

  She saw the anger creep into his eyes. “I was doing my job.”

  “And that job includes threatening young boys?”

  “Mommy!” Katie interrupted, squirming in her mother’s arms. Maureen looked at her daughter and saw the concern on her face. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” she tried to reassure her, but Katie knew better.

  “It’s okay.” The child patted her mother’s cheek in imitation of an adult comforting a small child. Maureen felt the anger seep out of her, and she smiled softly at her daughter.

  “Okay, sweetheart,” she said. “You win. I won’t be mad anymore.” She turned back to Alan, who stood with both hands braced on his hips. Her anger stirred again, but then she caught sight of the stuffed animal in Katie’s arms, and she pushed her annoyance aside. She wasn’t going to spoil the day. Besides, how could she stay mad at a man who won a bright pink elephant for her daughter? “All right, cowboy, what’s next?”

  Alan seemed to battle his own temper for a moment. Then he smiled that slow, cocky grin of his and dropped an arm around her shoulder. “I think it’s time to put the princess here on a real pony.”

  They spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon entertaining Katie. First there were pony rides and cotton candy. Katie got her face painted like a clown, and Maureen had her fortune told. All three of them took a ride on the merry-go-round, and Katie
went for another pony ride.

  At lunchtime, they stopped at the concession stands set up along the river, and Rita joined them. They laughed and talked while Katie fed bread crumbs to the birds. After a while, Alan left to relieve one of his deputies so the other man could enjoy some of the day.

  Maureen spread a blanket under a tree, and she and Rita sat talking while Katie napped. They weren’t far from the playground, and, as Maureen watched the older children playing, she thought of Tommy and his deer.

  “Rita,” she said, “tell me something about the Simmons boys.”

  Rita shifted on the hard picnic table bench to look at her. “What do you want to know, dear?”

  Maureen hesitated. What did she want to know? “I’m not sure,” she said with a shrug. “Last week when we went to Seattle, Alan stopped at the Simmons ranch. While he was inside talking to Bud, I met Tommy. He seemed …”

  “Shy?” Rita answered for her.

  “More than shy.”

  Rita sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. I don’t really know the boys very well myself. Their mother left when they were young. And Bud … well, I guess you’ve heard enough about Bud.”

  Maureen nodded, wanting to ask more about Simmons and the way he treated his sons, but she was unsure if even Rita would tell her the truth. She considered telling her about Tommy’s deer and how he kept it a secret, and then decided against that, too. She’d promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone. Instead, she thought of Alan and how stubbornly he refused to cut Joey any slack. “Why is Alan so hard on Joey?”

  “He’s not any harder on Joey than anyone else. It’s just that he believes so strongly in the law.”

  “But he’s so adamant about it. Surely the things Joey’s doing are minor.”

  Rita smiled sadly. “Has Alan told you how his father died?”

  Maureen shook her head. “What does that have to do with how he treats Joey?”

  “Everything.” Rita paused, as if considering what to say next. “It was an accident. A stupid accident.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Rita glanced at her and nodded. “Probably. But this accident was particularly unnecessary.” She paused again and took a deep breath. “Will Morris was drunk and beating on his wife, Celia. It wasn’t the first time. One of the neighbors had called in and complained. Usually, a deputy would have handled it, but that night Mel, Alan’s father, decided to go over there. He was determined to get Celia to press charges. Instead, he died.”