she turned down the hallway, the last rays of sun caught the thick braid hanging down to her shoulder blades. Her hair gleamed with rich color, brown and gold with a hint of red, so different from Mandy’s pale blond hair. Had Elizabeth’s hair once been that color, turning darker with age, or had Mandy inherited her hair color from her father?
They reached the bedroom. Elizabeth sank onto the bed and smiled at her daughter. “I’m going to rest here for a few minutes before I get ready to sleep. Why don’t you kiss me good-night now and then go help Travis in the kitchen.”
Mandy reached up and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
“I’m glad you’re not in that old hospital anymore. Tomorrow can you come upstairs and look at my room?”
“We’ll see.” Elizabeth stroked her daughter’s head, then glanced at Travis. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”
“Just being neighborly,” he said from his place in the doorway.
“Hardly, but I do appreciate everything.” She motioned to the room, and then smiled at her daughter. “I don’t know what I would have done—”
He cut her off. “All you should worry about now is getting better. Leave the rest of it alone. Come on, Mandy. Your mother needs to sleep.” He held out his hand.
Mandy looked from him to her mother. “But, Travis, aren’t you going to kiss Mommy good-night, too?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, obviously startled. Her big eyes got bigger and her lips parted slightly with surprise. But she hadn’t flinched.
He pushed off the door frame and slowly approached the bed. Her gaze never left his. “I do my best work under pressure,” he drawled.
“I’ll bet,” Elizabeth muttered, then looked away. “Look, you don’t have to—”
“Mommy, you need to be kissed good-night,” Mandy said, and bounced on the bed. “It’ll make you feel better. Travis made me feel better when he gave me a kiss. I didn’t have even one bad dream last night.”
“Simply medicinal,” he said.
“What’s mecidinal?” Mandy asked, struggling with the strange word.
He didn’t take his gaze off Elizabeth’s face. Color steadily climbed her cheeks. She glanced at him, at Mandy, at her fingers twisting together in her lap. He approached the bed and bent over.
“It means doing something for medical purposes,” he said. “Like taking medicine.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met. Mandy asked another question, but he couldn’t hear all the words. Elizabeth’s irises were a pure brown, almost chestnut colored. Her sweet breath fanned his face. His stomach tightened in anticipation, which, he told himself, was stupid. She’d just had major surgery, her six-year-old daughter sat inches away. He was simply going to give her a quick peck on the cheek. So what was the big deal?
But he didn’t kiss her cheek. He moved his head to the left side of her face, but at the last minute veered back and brushed his mouth against hers.
He’d expected some kind of attraction. He was a healthy single male, and she was damned good-looking. But he hadn’t expected to get third-degree burns from the heat.
The contact, lasting no more than one or two seconds, seared his mouth and sent flames of need racing through his body. Instinctively, his hands tightened on her shoulders. Her arms reached up toward him. He felt them whisper by his sides then fall back. He wanted to haul her to her feet and pull her firmly against him. He wanted to feel her body pressing along his, thighs brushing, hips rotating, chest to breast in exquisite delight.
“Don’t you feel better, Mommy?” Mandy asked.
He raised his head. Elizabeth’s eyes were wide and unfocused as if she, too, had felt the conflagration. She swallowed and looked away. But not before he’d seen the answering desire in her gaze.
“Much,” she answered, her voice low and husky. She cleared her throat. “I do feel better. Thank you.”
Travis stared down at her. Who was this woman and what had brought her to Glenwood? Why was there no one, no man, for her to call in her time of trouble? He took a step back and fought a grin. Not that he minded the fact that she was single and in his house. If anything, their kiss had shown him the next three weeks could be very interesting. But why was she alone?
“Come on, Mandy,” he said, holding out his hand. “Let’s let your mom get some rest. I rented a movie for us to watch.”
“Okay.” Mandy jumped off the bed and gripped his fingers. “Night, Mommy.”
“Night, sweetie,” she said, and smiled at her little girl. Her gaze raised to the middle of his chest and stopped. “Good night, Travis. Thank you for…everything.”
Yeah, he couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss either, he thought. “Get some rest.” He led Mandy from the room and closed the door behind them.
A large sofa with a matching chair in soft ivory leather sat in front of an oversize television. Mandy released him and ran over to the VCR. Expertly she pulled the rented tape from its protective cover and inserted it in the machine. Her chatter made him smile, but he had trouble concentrating on her words. He couldn’t stop thinking about Elizabeth Abbott. He was sure there was a logical explanation for everything that was going on, but some sixth sense whispered there was a mystery.
As he sat on the sofa and Mandy climbed onto his lap, he mentally listed what he knew about Elizabeth and her daughter. It wasn’t much. He was too good a lawman to let anything that intriguing go unsolved. If Elizabeth wouldn’t cooperate and answer some questions, he was going to have to find out on his own.
* * *
Elizabeth got coffee going before her exhaustion and the pain in her side forced her to retreat to the kitchen table. She sank into one of the bleached oak chairs. She’d hoped the doctor had been kidding when he’d told her to stay off her feet for a week. Apparently not. He’d reminded her that despite all the improvements in medical technology, the fact was she’d had her tummy cut open, through all the muscles. There were multiple layers of tissues to heal. She hadn’t realized how much she used those muscles until she tried to move around and they reminded her they weren’t working well. She pressed her hand against her side and shifted on the chair. Maybe she would just sit here for a while.
She drew in a deep breath and inhaled the scent of the brewing coffee. At least she’d accomplished something. She smiled. Maybe later, when she’d gathered her strength, she would get wild and attempt toast.
“What are you smiling about, darlin’?”
That voice. It made her think of something warm and rich and decadent slowly slipping through her fingers. It made her think of liquid satin on bare skin. It made her think of last night and their brief kiss. She turned to look at him.
Travis
