by the buns at a barbecue, her hair tucked behind her ear like that, he’d find his way over and introduce himself. But this was different—this was a professional line.
“I’ve noticed that you don’t have any photos around your home,” Malory said, her brown eyes meeting his. “Why is that?”
“I’ve mentioned the Cruise clan, haven’t I?” He gave her a wry smile.
“But what about your mom?” she asked. “Don’t you have pictures of her?”
He sighed. Having a woman living in his home seemed like a great idea when he needed round-the-clock child care for Katy, but right about now it made privacy a whole lot harder. “I said that my mom died, right?”
She nodded, chewing her cereal thoughtfully.
“I’m pretty sure she did, at least. I just don’t know when. She ran off and left us when I was young. I don’t have many memories of her, but all of them involved yelling and anger.”
“Oh...” Malory winced. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it.”
“Haven’t you searched for her?”
“I have, but I couldn’t find anything. My dad told me she died, so maybe he was right. He had a pretty flexible relationship with the truth, so I didn’t know.” He stopped when he saw the sadness swimming through Malory’s eyes. “Sorry. This is why I don’t talk about these things.”
“Don’t you have anyone you trust?” she asked quietly.
“I trust the sheriff’s department. I trust the officers I work with day in and day out. I trust myself.”
She nodded slowly. “That’s something.” Malory passed Katy half a banana, her gaze flickering toward him, then back to her charge. “It seems a little empty in here without pictures.”
“I like it this way.” Irritation wormed its way up inside him. He had a painful past, and pictures only served to remind him of it. He preferred to live in the present, enjoy the security of the life he worked for.
Mike let his gaze roam around his kitchen and out into the slice of living room that was visible. He hadn’t actually intended to keep his home so free of pictures. One day, he always thought he’d have wedding photos, school pictures and family portraits of his own brood. But then he’d be able to protect them. He’d be able to put up a wall between them and the extended family that used and abused with apparent abandon.
Katy dropped the last of her banana into her bowl.
“You’re done?” Malory asked. “Okay. Can you wash your hands by yourself, or do you need my help?”
“I can do it!” Katy declared and clattered from the table.
“You think I’m heartless, don’t you?” Mike asked when they stood alone in the kitchen.
“No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re scarred.”
He shrugged, accepting her estimation. Maybe he was. “You do realize that as a law-enforcement officer, I can’t associate with known felons, right?”
“That makes sense.”
“And that includes pretty much all of my family.”
“Except Katy.”
“Yes, except Katy.” He grabbed the boxes of cereal and brought them to the cupboard. “You can’t really understand where I’m coming from unless you’ve experienced it.”
She was silent, and he glanced over to find her brown eyes trained on him. “And you don’t think that they can change?” she asked.
“Change?” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve been a sheriff for ten years and I’ve never seen anyone change.”
“You changed,” she countered.
“There are a few rescues,” he admitted. “I was one of them. But not many. Addiction is like that. It’s a vise grip.”
“I could see that.”
“And the lies...the constant lying. It gets to me. You know they’re lying to you and you know exactly why. Everyone has a reason to lie. In court it’s called motive.”
“What would they lie about?” she asked, her expression clouding. She shifted in her seat.
“Everything. Anything. Do you know what it’s like to not be able to trust anything someone tells you?”
“I know what it’s like to find out I’ve been duped,” she replied with a wry smile.
He paused, wondering who’d duped her in the past, but there wasn’t time to ask. Katy came back down the stairs, water saturating her dress front. She looked up at Malory with a big smile. “I’m done.”
“You need a tiny bit of help.” Malory chuckled. “Come on... Let’s go get you cleaned up. We have to brush your teeth, too...”
Malory left the room, and Mike sighed. He was talking too much. He didn’t know what it was about this lovely nanny, but he found himself opening up more than he was comfortable with—talking about all the things he normally kept sealed safely inside.
Their footsteps clomped up the stairs toward the bathroom. Mike suspected that Malory was holding something back—something that made her nervous when he talked about honesty and lies. He hadn’t missed the tension in her stance when the topic came up—the sheriff in him didn’t just turn off when he was off duty.
And someone had duped her... For some reason, that little nugget of information stuck.
* * *
BEAUTY’S ICE CREAM was an old-fashioned place sandwiched between a coffee shop and a fish-and-chips restaurant. Outside, in the front window, faded pictures of various ice-cream treats advertised the options. A large pink ice-cream cone stood like a sentinel next to the door. It was an old building with some peeling paint and vinyl booths that could be seen through the window. Above them, the vast expanse of prairie sky stretched over the town—watery blue scratched across with wispy clouds. A warm breeze stirred, and Malory pulled her hair away from her face.
“You ready?” Mike asked, pulling open the door and stepping back. He shot her a grin.
Katy hung back, distrust etched in her tiny features.
“Don’t you want ice cream?” Malory asked.
Katy scowled in the direction of the door.
“Not going in,” she declared.
“Why not?” Malory bent down and then crouched next to Katy. It was awkward, and she felt her position shift to make way for the swell of her belly. She realized with a sinking feeling that she’d have trouble standing up again on her own. Something had changed even in the past few days.
“No!” Katy said, her little voice echoing
