Alex was surprised by Jillian’s casual mention of her childhood, he didn’t show it. He just nodded and held out the box he’d picked up at the bakery. “I brought cookies, if you have somewhere I can put them. I figured at least a few people might not have had a chance to grab dinner yet.”
Oh, boy. Shame heated Cassie’s cheeks. She’d been stereotyping him with the old cops-and-doughnuts line when he’d actually been buying refreshments to share with others—at a charity event, no less.
The sight of the uniform might set her teeth on edge, but that was no reason to be openly rude to him. The car accident that had injured her father so badly had been caused by a single out-of-control deputy, but she couldn’t blame the man in front of her just because they both wore the same badge.
“Ooh, can I have a cookie?” Emma looked up at Alex, practically batting her eyelashes. “I’ve been very good.”
He laughed, and the lines around his eyes softened. “That’s up to your mom, princess.”
Emma turned pleading eyes to Cassie, whose heart melted. “Since you’ve been good, yes, one. But just one. Jillian said you’ve already had a brownie, and I don’t want you bouncing off the walls on a sugar high.” She nodded a thank you to Alex for letting her make the decision. “Now, let’s see those valentines you were telling me about.” She brushed off the niggling bit of envy that she hadn’t been the one making valentines with her daughter. Maybe that was why Jillian looked concerned about them?
“Cassie, maybe you should wait and read those later?” Jillian cautioned, nodding toward Alex.
Cassie darted a glance at the cop still standing on the stairs with them. He shrugged, then moved past them. “I’ll just go find a place to set these down. See you inside.”
Why was Jillian acting so tense over this? They were just paper hearts and glitter, not a manifesto. Taking them from Emma’s slightly grubby fist, she continued up to the massive front door of the Sandpiper.
The first card boasted a crudely drawn bouquet of flowers, and the words MOM and LOVE circled by pink and purple hearts. “Thank you, sweetie, I love it.” She shuffled that one to the back and opened the next one. This time there were happy faces covering the pink paper, and Jillian’s name, misspelled, at the center. “Beautiful!” Smiling, she opened the last heart-shaped card and then froze, almost stumbling as her daughter pushed past her into the warmth of the lobby. The words on the page had instantly imprinted on her brain, but she read them again anyway.
To Daddy. Painstakingly spelled out in red and gold sequins.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Jillian’s eyes were wide with sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I told her I’d help her make valentines, but I had no idea...”
Cassie straightened her spine. She’d talk to Emma about it. Make her understand, somehow, that this particular valentine was going to remain unsent. Her head began to throb.
“Don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” Cassie told Jillian.
It’s mine.
Alex kept an eye on the door as he mingled and shook hands in the spacious lobby. Observation was second nature at this point, and he wanted to see how that little scene out front played out. What was the big deal about a couple of valentines? Maybe it was nothing, but an overactive sense of curiosity came with the job.
He was munching on a tiny crustless sandwich when Cassie entered the room. Her daughter and friend followed, but she was the one that drew him, made him want to know more. There was something about the fiery redhead that made her impossible to ignore. Yes, she was pretty in a girl-next-door way, with a petite build and freckled complexion. But it was more than that. Her quick temper should have been off-putting. Instead, her transparency put him at ease. Every emotion showed on her face—there was no hidden agenda. In his line of work, he spent most of his time trying to figure out what someone wasn’t saying, but this woman was an open book.
And right now, she looked like she needed a friend. Her pale skin was flushed, and she had a tight look around her eyes, as if she was fighting off a headache. Moving toward her, drawn by instinct more than conscious thought, he offered her a drink. “Water?”
“Hmm?” She looked down at the unopened bottle he held in his hand. “Yes, thank you.” Taking a tentative sip, she screwed the cap back on. “Listen, about the coffee shop. I’m sorry I was rude. It was a dumb joke. I just...well, it wasn’t about you, specifically.”
“Not a fan of cops, are you?”
She winced. “That obvious?”
“Let’s see. You made a cop joke in front of a cop. Then you equated law enforcement with criminal behavior. It wasn’t a hard case to crack.”
Her eyes widened, and then she smiled. A heart-stopping smile that reached her eyes and made him wish he could do more for her than hand her a bottle of water. This must have been how Helen caused all that trouble in Troy. His heart thudded in his chest, warning him to look away.
His eyes landed on her daughter, who had snuck to the far side of the table to liberate another cookie. “She’s beautiful.”
The smile got even brighter. “Thanks.”
“Just like her mother.”
Instantly her smile vanished, and her gaze grew guarded. “I should go find a seat, before they’re all taken.”
He hadn’t meant the compliment as a pick-up line, but she obviously thought he was hitting on her and was putting as much space between them as possible. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but he’d heard medical people didn’t always wear them because of the constant hand-washing. Great. She was probably married. Now she had a reason to dislike him personally, rather than just cops in general.
Unable to come up with a reason to follow her, he hung back to watch the proceedings from the rear of the room, a small crowd filling the seats in front of him. These were his neighbors now, his community. Getting to know them had to be top priority if he wanted to be effective at his job. Hopefully volunteering like this would be a step in that direction. He had other, more personal reasons for wanting to volunteer, but no one needed to know that. He didn’t need his past coloring his chances at a future here.
At the front of the room, the woman he’d spoken to earlier, Jillian, stood and called for everyone’s attention. “Welcome to the Sandpiper, and thank you for taking the time to help with such a worthwhile project. As most of you know, I was a foster child myself, so I know firsthand how hard that life can be. And what a difference a caring person can make. I’m really thankful we have so many people interested in volunteering, and that, in addition to working with children’s services, we will also be partnering with the Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department. They will be sponsoring a group of kids for the program as well, kids who are in a difficult spot and might need some extra help. Deputy Santiago is here representing the department tonight and will be volunteering his own time to this important project.” She smiled at him, and he raised a hand in acknowledgment. Several of the townspeople turned and sized him up. Many offered warm smiles; a few nodded in acceptance.
Jillian finished, then introduced the chairwoman of the event, Mrs. Rosenberg, a diminutive senior citizen decked out in a leopard-print track suit.
