her tears eased, she drew away, wiping her eyes with a tissue from the pocket of her robe. “Sorry. It should have been Aunt Marie listening to all this, but I didn’t make it that far.”
“I don’t mind being her substitute,” he told Fay. “Not at all.”
Only later did it alarm him how much he’d relished being the one who’d offered her comfort in the circle of his arms. It wouldn’t do. Not at all. The situation was only temporary. Once they could leave the cabin, she’d go her way and he’d go his. Unencumbered, in his case. Alone.
Chapter Three
By the following day, Fay felt strong enough to pick up little Marie, change her diaper and carry her to the couch to nurse. Every so often, though, she had to ask Dan to carry the baby back to the wood-box, making her wonder if it was normal to have such little exercise fatigue her so.
“The plows should be clearing the highway so repair trucks can get through,” he told her in the afternoon. “The problem is I don’t know where the electric and phone lines went down so I can’t tell how long it’ll be before we get them fixed. We’re stuck here ’til I can get a call out about the bridge being impassable.”
“Now that the storm’s over, won’t your siblings worry if they don’t hear from you?” she asked.
“Bruce might not, and Will’s out of town, but Megan’s sure to. We tease her that her mission in life is to mother the world. That’s why I’m out here. She drove me crazy fussing over me at our old home in town. Seemed to think I needed bedside nursing.”
His words reminded her she’d noticed he favored his left leg when he walked. “Were you injured?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Got shot in the leg. Flesh wound. Pretty well healed now.”
“Is that why you’re in the Upper Peninsula instead of on duty in Archer?”
“Some of the reason, anyway.”
Fay was sure the leg wound had been more serious than he let on. She wondered what else was keeping him off duty, but didn’t probe. If he wanted to tell her, he would. But he’d made her curious. “Who shot you?” she asked.
“The perp. Perpetrator. That’s cop talk for the bad guy.”
She opened her mouth to ask what happened to the perp, but decided she was doing exactly what she’d told herself she wouldn’t—probing. “Evidently your job has its exciting moments.”
“Some a lot more exciting than I’d like. Jean—” He broke off abruptly.
“Jean?” she echoed.
“My ex.”
“Oh.” She should have known a guy as attractive as Dan would have been married. At first she hadn’t thought of him as anything other than the man who’d saved her life. Who’d taken care of her and Marie. But there was no denying blond, blue-eyed Daniel Sorenson was a hunk to set women’s hearts—and other parts—throbbing.
Not that hers were. Physically and emotionally she was nowhere near ready for either romance or sex. Still, she did have eyes, after all, and she did like to look at him. She also wanted to know more about why Jean was his ex. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “So you’re divorced,” she said as casually as she could.
His mouth twisted. “Cops’ marriages have a tendency to fail.”
Fay blinked, having never thought about it before. “Why?”
“We sometimes get killed.”
She examined his blunt words. “I admit that’s a real problem, but—”
“Cops also work overtime and often can’t let a wife know they won’t be home on time. The uncertainty of whether their husband might not be coming home because he’s dead or lying in a hospital wounded seems to wear on women.”
“Okay, but that still doesn’t seem to me to—”
“In my case there was also the question of children.”
“Question?”
“I don’t want any. Won’t have any. Not with today’s world like it is. Jean wanted kids.”
Fay thought of his gentleness with little Marie and felt a pang. She could tell he’d already grown fond of her daughter. Dan would make a wonderful father.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Raising a child has always been a risk, though.”
“Yet you took it.”
She smiled. “I’ve been a risk-taker for most of my life.”
He grinned wryly. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know firsthand.”
“I guess I deserved that. Going back to your divorce. Do you feel it was your fault? Because I don’t. Jean must have known you were a cop when she married you.”
“She thought she could convince me to get into something she considered safer. You may have the same trouble understanding what she never could. I like what I do. Once in a great while, I might even make a difference. I don’t want to find other work, safer or not. No, I don’t blame myself for the divorce, but I do for the marriage. Cops have no business marrying. Especially this cop.”
His tone was so bitter she suspected something else was involved at the root of the problem. Deciding not to touch on that, she said, “I think I can understand why you joined the police.” Though it was true he’d advanced to detective, he seemed to be saying he liked it just where he was. If he had any ambition, he could eventually become a police commissioner somewhere, become a real power. It reminded her of her father staying a foreman all his life when he could have advanced. He’d liked his job, too.
“We both have reservations about marriage,” she added. “How can one ever be sure the other person is the right choice?”
“By steering clear of the whole process in the first place. Like Bruce and Megan.”
“Your brother and sister aren’t married?”
Dan shook his head. “Bruce claims he knows when he’s well off. And Megan says she gets along just fine being single.” After a moment he asked, “Ever play double solitaire?”
She realized the question meant the marriage discussion was at an end. “I know what solitaire is,” she said, “but I didn’t realize two could play it together.”
“Not exactly together. More like opponents, since only one can win. I’ll teach you later, after your nap.”
The word nap made her realize how fast fatigue was once again creeping up on her. She yawned and nodded. Later was fine with her.
Several hours later, Fay had mastered the rules of the game and Dan had beaten her three times out of three.
“Be warned,” she advised. “No one wins against me forever.”
“You
