the only friend Mandy has,” Rebecca said. “If I could take her home with me, I would. But my staff is exhausted, and I’m staying here tonight. Anyway, you have Louise.”
He thought of his housekeeper. Today was her day off but he knew if he called she would come over to help and show off her latest craft project. At least she wasn’t knitting anymore. He already had two drawers filled with ugly, ill-fitting sweaters and socks she’d made for him.
“I suppose that might work. But I don’t know anything about children,” Travis muttered, trying to ignore Mandy tugging on him again.
“Your nephews stay with you.”
“Travis,” Mandy said.
“That’s different.”
“How?” Rebecca asked.
“Travis?”
“They’re family. And boys.” He looked down. Those blue eyes were killing him. “What?”
“I want to stay with you.”
“You’re the only person she knows in town. Come on, be a hero. It’s what you’re best at.”
He glared at Rebecca. “Thanks.”
Undaunted, she smiled. “Let me get you some supplies.” She disappeared down the hall.
“Why me?” he asked no one in particular.
“Travis? Are you mad at me?”
“Mandy, no.” He swept Mandy up in his arms and gave her a hug. She wrapped her spindly legs around his waist. “I’m not mad. We’ll have fun. I’ll read you a story tonight, okay?”
She nodded. “And Mr. Bear,” she said, holding out the tattered animal.
“And Mr. Bear.”
Rebecca returned with a small cloth bag. “I’ve packed a nightgown, some underwear and a shorts set for tomorrow.” She handed Travis the bag, then smiled at Mandy. “Do you want a pink toothbrush or a purple one?” She had both in her hand.
The little girl stared for a second, then pointed shyly. “Pink.”
“You got it.” Rebecca dropped that one in the bag and walked over to the door. “I’ll be here, so call me if there’s any trouble. It’s only one night.”
“Like you care,” he grumbled.
“Stop it. You’ll have a great time. Think of it as father training. For when you have your own kids.”
“Not my style. Haynes men don’t make good parents.” It was a familiar argument between the two of them. The problem was Rebecca hadn’t figured out he wasn’t kidding. She shook her head. “Let me know what happens. And tell Elizabeth not to worry about coming into work until she’s completely healed. I won’t be giving her job to anyone else.”
“Yeah, I will.” He shifted Mandy so that she was supported by one arm, then handed her the bag and dug in his pocket for his keys. “Say goodbye, Mandy.”
“By.” Now that she was getting her way, she smiled broadly. “Can we have the siren on?” she asked as they stepped out of the building and walked toward the sheriff’s car in the parking lot.
“No.”
She pouted and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “I can’t use the siren when it’s not an emergency.”
She thought for a minute. “I gotta go.”
His heart sank. “Now?”
She nodded. “It’s a ’mergency.”
* * *
Elizabeth raised the hospital bed and stared out the window. From where she was lying, she could see the corner of the small parking lot and a plot of grass with a Chinese maple in the center. It was early Saturday morning and she’d seen only a handful of cars enter the hospital grounds.
Everything was going to be fine. She’d recited the phrase over and over, hoping by saying it enough she would start to believe it was true. But panic threatened, just below the surface of her carefully constructed facade.
She was scared. There was no getting around the lump in her throat and the cold hard knot in her stomach, just next to the tender incision the doctors had made yesterday. She wasn’t frightened for herself. The surgery had gone well, and she was healing nicely, according to the doctor who had visited early that morning. She had medical insurance, so the unexpected stay in the hospital wasn’t going to deplete her savings.
The lump in her throat got bigger and her eyes burned from unshed tears. She blinked them away and prayed that her daughter hadn’t been too scared last night, alone in a strange place. Had they let her sleep with her bear? Had she had any bad dreams? There were, on average, twenty children at the county facility. Had Mandy gotten lost among all the other kids? Who would have been there to hold her if she cried?
Logically, Elizabeth knew she hadn’t had another choice as far as her daughter was concerned. Having her spend the night in the county home had made sense. She would be fed and warm and have a bed to sleep in. But knowing her only child had been put there, like a stray puppy rounded up by the pound, made her feel like the worst kind of parent. Mothers were supposed to do better for their children. Of course, mothers were also supposed to know what they were doing when they picked out fathers—and look at how that had turned out.
She reached over to the black phone on the small metal nightstand and dialed the number she’d gotten from directory assistance. For the second time in fifteen minutes, she heard a busy signal. From what she remembered from her tour during her interview a month ago, the county facility only had one line. She hung up the receiver. She would keep trying until she got through. She wanted to check on Mandy and reassure her daughter that everything was going to be fine—even though she didn’t know how.
Elizabeth forced herself to hold on to her control. She couldn’t afford to give into the fear. Not now. If she started questioning herself, she might never stop. Six months ago her world had come crashing in on her. She’d managed to collect the pieces and assemble them into a life, but the structure was fragile, and this emergency was enough to send the whole thing crumbling again. The logistics of her condition whirled around in her head. How was she going to take care of Mandy when she was supposed to stay off her feet for a week and not drive for three weeks? What about feeding her, and registering her for school, buying her new shoes, and a hundred other things she’d planned to do over the long holiday weekend? What about taking her out to watch the ducks and playing tag and—
The sound of footsteps in the hallway caught her attention. She glanced over at her partially closed door and watched as it was pushed open. Sheriff Travis Haynes entered the room and smiled at her. She stared at him, surprise and a tiny spurt of pleasure temporarily hiding her worries. He’d told her he would come by today and visit, but she hadn’t expected him to. He’d done too much already. Still, except for Rebecca and Mandy, he was the only other person she knew in Glenwood, and she couldn’t help being pleased to see him.
Gratitude, she told
