story.” She kept her voice low, and every so often it would crack a little. He leaned in to hear better.
Another long pause, so he ate some more pie.
“Okay,” she said. “Short version. My family is prominent in Dallas. The kind of prominence where social connections are important and scandal isn’t welcome. I became a scandal.”
“You? How’s that?”
“Well, they wouldn’t believe me. You probably won’t, either. But I was engaged to be married. I thought I loved him. Everybody was thrilled. I’d picked a guy from the right family, if you get me. Everyone’s sure he’s going to be a senator one day. Except for one little problem.”
“You.”
“Me.”
“But what’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, I was raised right, taught all the correct things. You could say I was groomed like a show filly specifically to get to this place.”
“But?”
“He raped me.”
The words barely emerged from her throat. They sounded so tight that he was sure she almost choked on them.
“To hell with him, then.”
“You’d think.” She closed her eyes and her hands knotted into fists. “Nobody believed me, of course. Then I found out I was pregnant. I guess that rules me out as a nanny.”
For an instant it almost did, but then Cash had another thought. Here was a young woman, pregnant and alone, and a prime example of the dangers in life. She might be a good object lesson. So instead of shutting it all down, he decided to ask more.
“Why’d you have to run away?”
“Because they insisted we push the marriage up and make things all right for Scott. When I swore I’d never marry him, they told me I had to get an abortion. Because if there was one thing that must not happen, it was the kind of scandal that would ruin Scott’s future and hurt my family as a result.”
“That’s medieval!”
“So was the part where they kept me locked up. I didn’t get to go anywhere by myself, and then only rarely. It took me months to find a way to escape.”
“So you had to either marry your rapist or lose your child?”
“That was it. Oh, and I had to vow never to tell anyone Scott had raped me. Not that anyone believed Scott would do such a thing.”
He swore quietly. “Why didn’t they just send you to Europe for a year or two? Out of sight and all that?”
“Evidence. There’d always be evidence if I kept this baby. I could threaten him by demanding a paternity test.”
“They thought you’d do that?”
“I’d accused him of rape, hadn’t I? They were sure I was lying about that. Scott would never do such a thing.”
It sounded like a story from another age, or from one of those soap operas his mother had loved so much. Yet looking at Hope across the table, he could see very real pain. She’d have to be a pathological liar to make this up. In fact, a pathological liar probably could have come up with something more believable and inventive.
He sighed. He was going to do this. In his heart of hearts, he knew he couldn’t send this woman on her way at least until he knew the truth. He’d have the weekend to see how she interacted with Angie, and he’d make a point of being close by for a while after Angie got home from school.
“I guess,” he said, “that there’s no one I can call to ask about you?”
“Not even my best friend knows what happened. I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time.” Her lower lip quivered.
“I’ve got an idea. But before we go over to the sheriff’s office to check out your license, why don’t you eat some of that pie? Looks to me like you need the energy.”
He hated treating her suspiciously, but he had a daughter to consider, hellion though she was. The sheriff could find out if she had any warrants or past crimes. Then he was going to hit his computer and see what he could learn about Hope Conroy. If she came from the kind of family she claimed, he’d bet the Dallas newspapers would mention her more than once. And certainly they’d announced this engagement.
Satisfied he wasn’t being a total fool, he worked on finishing his pie.
* * *
Although Hope knew she had nothing in her background to worry about—as it was, she’d been allowed to do little enough in her life—she still felt nervous walking into the sheriff’s office. What if this somehow revealed her whereabouts to her family? And how could she ask about that without having to once again explain her situation?
To her surprise, she and Cash were immediately taken to the sheriff himself in his back office. She guessed that meant her would-be employer had some pull around here.
Cash made the introductions. The sheriff immediately aroused her interest. Gage Dalton moved stiffly as he rose from his chair, wincing faintly, and a burn scar covered one side of his face. She wondered what his story was, but not for long. She was too nervous about all of this to think of much besides herself.
“I’m thinking about hiring Ms. Conroy to help me with Angie,” Cash said. “I wondered if we could get a background check.”
Gage nodded as he resumed his seat. “Of course.” His dark gaze shifted to Hope. “You have ID?”
Here it was. Gathering her courage in her hands, she said, “This won’t allow anyone to find me, will it?”
For an instant she thought she’d completely blown it. Her stomach turned over and she felt almost sick enough to vomit.
“Depends,” Gage said. “If you have any wants or warrants from law enforcement it will.”
“But not my family or friends?”
“Not unless they have an inside line at the DMV or the national criminal database. Is there something I need to know?”
Cash stepped in, saving her. “Ms. Conroy is on the run from a shotgun marriage is all.”
“Well, this sure won’t help them find you. But you know they can trace you other ways?”
She nodded, her insides now feeling like a leaf shaking in the wind.
“Credit cards, things like that,” the sheriff continued. “A good private detective wouldn’t take long. Would they send one?”
Now her stomach quit doing somersaults and fell off a cliff. “They might,” she admitted.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” Cash said. She darted a glance at him because his voice had turned steely. His jaw looked a bit tight. What had she said?
God,
