Sweet Devotion. Felicia Mason
single guy and the preacher. Great, Amber thought. Just great. Maybe instead of eating dessert, they could just get married.
“Why don’t you replenish that,” Amber suggested, as Haley came around with the tray. “I’ll help you,” Amber said, lacing her voice with sweetness.
Haley wasn’t fooled, though, as she followed Amber into her kitchen.
“You wouldn’t hurt a pregnant lady,” Haley said, as the swinging door closed behind the two of them. Outside on the deck, under an awning that protected him from the rain starting to fall, Matt waved.
Amber waved at Matt, but glared at her cousin. “I’m deciding,” she said. She glanced at Haley’s stomach. “You’re not even showing yet.”
Haley lifted her hands to frame her face. “But Matt says I have a glow.”
“You’re glowing, all right. This was no spur-of-the-moment cookout, Haley. You know I hate setups.”
“What setup? It’s just a few friends.”
“Uh-huh,” Amber said. “Your pastor and his wife to hound me about not going to church, and that puppy-dog-eyed policeman.”
“Cliff and Nancy are friends. They aren’t going to hound you or anybody else. And I’d hardly call Caleb puppy-dog-eyed.”
Amber reached for and munched on a celery stick filled with cream cheese and pimento. “He reminds me of the Ebb character from Classic TV.”
Haley shook her head. “You do need to get out more. Satellite TV is addling your brain. And for the record, Caleb is also a friend. You’re family. What’s wrong with having friends and family over for dinner?”
Amber knew she wouldn’t win this round with Haley, but she had a trump card. “When you’re eight months pregnant and craving a lemon tart or a honey pecan roll, I’m going to be all sold out.”
“That’s mean,” Haley said, but she laughed.
Matt came in, greeted Amber with a “Hey, cuz” as he leaned in to buss her on the cheek, then carried a bowl of something to the dining room.
Haley moved to follow him. “Come on. Let’s get these out to everyone.”
The doorbell rang as they reentered the living room.
“I’ll get it,” Matt said.
A moment later he opened the door to Paul Evans and Marnie Shepherd.
Amber saw the pair and let out a shaky breath. Is that what Marnie had meant in the rest room at Sunshine and Rainbows? That Amber didn’t have to fear Paul because Marnie knew him to be an honorable man. Her man? They’d never really talked about personal stuff, so Amber had no way of knowing whether Marnie was seeing the police chief.
“Did you make these?” Caleb asked.
“Huh?”
Amber took her eyes off the pair at the door, turning her attention to Caleb, who was enjoying a corn fritter. “No. Haley did. Or maybe Matt.”
“They’re probably not as good as yours.”
Amber looked at Caleb as if seeing him for the first time. “Excuse me.” She fled to the kitchen.
Caleb looked from her retreating back to his boss at the front door.
“He followed me home, can I keep him?” Marnie said with a smile, indicating the police chief.
“Come on in,” Matt invited.
She knew it was a little crazy but Amber had to talk to someone right now. From the wall phone in the kitchen, she called Kara—and got an answering machine.
She slammed the phone down, then tried a little deep breathing. If she kept jumping at shadows like this she’d be a basket case, not to mention right back where she’d been three years ago when she first came home to Wayside.
Leaning against the sink, she considered her options. She could escape out the sliding glass doors and go home, or she could face her fears and walk out into that living room.
The choice, to some degree, was taken away from her when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Wayside, Oregon’s Police Chief Paul Evans.
Amber gripped the edge of the sink behind her. She assessed all of him. Tonight he didn’t wear the uniform that marked him as an officer of the law. Gone also were the gun, club and cuffs. He stood at the door in jeans, work boots and a chambray shirt. He looked more like a cowboy than a cop.
He’s just a man, Amber coached herself. You’re in a safe place. He’s just a man.
“Hello, Miss Montgomery. I waited at the day care the other day to have a word with you, but I got a call and had to leave.”
She didn’t say anything.
He took three steps forward. Amber forced herself not to flinch.
He must have noticed something because his eyes narrowed a bit, and the smile on his mouth fell a notch, not enough that any casual observer would even notice. But Amber wasn’t a casual observer. Fight-or-flight kicked in. Since he now blocked both exits, it would have to be fight.
“I don’t see how that concerns me.” She deliberately aimed for belligerent and defensive.
“I want to apologize,” he said, glancing at her arm. “About the other night. I didn’t mean to grab you or to leave a bruise.”
“The complaint letters are already mailed.” That wasn’t true, but he didn’t have to know it.
“I mistook you for one of the Revelers.”
“So I look seventy years old?”
A smile tilted the corners of his mouth and a dimple showed. “Hardly, Miss Montgomery.”
She told herself she wasn’t going to be charmed by that smile, that her guard would remain up. But she did allow her body to loosen. She’d been holding herself so erect that she’d need a masseuse to get the knots out.
“Please let me finish. I also want to thank you for something,” he said.
“Thank me? For what?”
“For bringing a smile again to my daughter’s face.”
Chapter Five
“She’s a sweet girl.”
“But she’s been through a lot. It’s not very often I see her smile and giggle and act like the five-year-old she is.”
“What’s wrong with her?” The question was out before the impertinence of it dawned on Amber. She’d always been one to speak her mind first and worry about the consequences later. The cloud that shadowed his face told her without words that she’d done it again. “Never mind,” she added. “Don’t answer that. Your apology’s accepted, Chief Evans. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She gave him a wide berth as she moved toward the door leading back to the living room and the safety and comfort of other people.
Paul watched her retreat. He didn’t feel a need to bolster his own defense mechanisms in response to her anger; to his utter amazement, what he was feeling was a surge of protectiveness. But everything about Amber Montgomery said “woman with a past—avoid like the plague.”
He couldn’t determine if she didn’t like cops in general or if it was him in particular. Whatever the case, Amber brought out in him an interest that extended beyond the professional.
Since it clearly wasn’t reciprocated, he’d have to move on.
He hadn’t believed anyone existed who could draw the kids out of the shells in which they’d lived these past few years. But Amber Montgomery, the Cookie Lady, had done just that, not only for Sutton and