To Save a Child--A Clean Romance Read online

  Grace made to pick up the swing.

  “I’ll get that.” Cole grabbed the baby swing and carried Zoe into the kitchen.

  “Don’t dump her out,” Grandpa called.

  “I won’t.”

  Grace had the table set, and they took their seats. There was a hot toasted sandwich, homemade French fries and cut-up oranges and apples and grapes on each of the plates. Grandpa looked down at his, and Cole held his breath.

  “See, Cole, now that’s a meal—a gooey ham-and-cheese sandwich. You know how to cook, young lady.”

  “Thank you.”

  There were two baby food jars on the table, and Grace started to feed Zoe. The baby would clap her hands when Grace fed her from one jar. When she gave her a spoonful from the other jar, Zoe would frown until tears ran out of her eyes. He and Grandpa were frozen in place watching her.

  “Whatever you’re feeding Zoe Grace, she doesn’t like it,” Grandpa said. “You’re making her cry.”

  “It’s meat and peas, and I want her to eat it for the protein.”

  “That’s child abuse. Cole could arrest you,” Grandpa told her.

  Grace dropped the spoon she was holding, and it clattered to the floor. “Oh, my goodness. I’m clumsy.” She got up to retrieve it and put it in the sink and got another one.

  “Grandpa.” Cole lifted an eyebrow at him.

  “Okay, I was kidding. But a child shouldn’t have to eat like that.”

  “I didn’t like spinach or broccoli, and you made me eat them.”

  “Yeah, I did because it was good for you.” Grandpa took a bite of his sandwich and they resumed supper. And, of course, Grandpa couldn’t stop talking. “Cole is a cop, though. He’s a detective sergeant in Austin, but now he’s home because he thinks he needs to take care of me.”

  “Do you need to be taken care of, Mr. Chisholm?”

  “Nah. Been taking care of myself for seventy-eight years, and I don’t need my grandson to stop his life for me. He’s made detective now, and he has a girlfriend. He needs to go back to his life.” Grandpa shook his head. “He’s not like his father. Our Jamie was a gentle soul, but Cole’s been rough and rowdy since the day he was born. He gets that from those other people.”

  “Other people?”

  “My mother’s side of the family,” Cole answered. “Otherwise known as the aliens to the Chisholm side of the family.” Every time he got in trouble in his teens, he heard that phrase. Everything bad in Cole was because of those other people. Because Jamie wasn’t like that.

  “Oh.” Grace looked toward the pictures in the den. “Is that Jamie?”

  “Yep, that’s our boy. My Cora loved him more than anything on this earth. She never got over his death.”

  Cole’s grandpa had never said a truer fact. His grandma stopped living the day James Walter Chisholm and his wife, Beth, died. But they had Cole, Jamie’s son, and she’d tried to turn Cole into Jamie. His grandmother called him Jamie at least twice a day, even though he told her over and over, “I’m not Jamie.” But she persisted. She had to keep her son alive. That’s why there were so many photos everywhere. Cole grew up in the shadow of his father. When Cole reached eighteen, he’d bolted for freedom. He couldn’t live in the shadow any longer.

  But in bolting, he had hurt his grandmother deeply, and he would probably regret that for the rest of his life. Maybe that’s why he really was home. He wanted to salvage something from all the years he’d been called Jamie.

  Before his thoughts could take him into the pits of Jamie’s legacy, the electricity went out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “SIT STILL,” COLE ORDERED. “I’ll get the flashlights.”

  Zoe let out a wail, and Grace took her out of the swing and wiped her mouth. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Zoe wanted her bottle, and Grace was glad she’d warmed it before the lights went out. She reached for it on the counter and put the nipple in Zoe’s mouth. She calmed down, sucking away.

  “How old is she?” Grandpa asked.

  “Nine months.”

  Cole came back. “I put flashlights in both bathrooms, and I’m going to put one in the kitchen and one in the den. Since the electricity is probably going to be out for a while, we better bed down in the den, because the bedrooms will get cold. The fire will keep us warm all night.”

  He’s a cop. The words kept running through Grace’s mind. Of all the places in the world, she had to land in a cop’s house. He didn’t know anything about her, and she had to keep it that way if she wanted to stay out of jail.

  They were busy for the next few minutes. The old man went to the bathroom and then brought back more blankets and quilts. Grace changed Zoe and put her in the Pack ’n Play for the night, making sure she had lots of cover to stay warm. Cole was on the phone talking to someone, and she could hear his side of the conversation.

  “Yeah, the power’s out here, too. I was going to call you a little later. There was a wreck on 77, and the woman who was driving is here with her baby. It’s the safest place for her right now. Tomorrow maybe Bubba could pull her car to his shop.”

  He had to be talking to someone in law enforcement. She didn’t know who Bubba was, but she was hoping he could fix her car and she could be on her way. That was her prayer.

  When Cole went outside to get firewood to last the night, Grace fished her phone out of her purse and went in the kitchen to call Frannie. She didn’t want Cole to hear.

  Frannie had been her best friend for years. She was sixty-six years old and the only person Grace could count on. She lived next door and had been a godsend, helping with school work and making sure they had enough food. Grace’s mother had been a free spirit and was rarely home. Grace took care of her younger sister while her mother was away. At one of the many parties her mother went to, she dived into a swimming pool and broke her neck. She’d been paralyzed from the waist down. Grace took care of her until the day she died. Frannie was always there to give her breaks so she could get out of the house. They’d formed a strong bond. That was two years ago, and life had been pretty uneventful until her younger sister got involved with an unsavory character.

  “Sweetie, where are you?” Frannie’s anxious voice penetrated her thoughts.

  “In a little country town I’ve never heard of. I crashed my car.” She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, but she knew she’d failed.

  “Oh, no, sweetie. Are you okay? Is Zoe okay?”

  “We’re okay. But it’s the strangest thing. I slid off the icy road and hit a tree. I could see a light through the woods and I knew it had to be a house, so I bundled us up with the winter clothes I’d bought. There was a small hill, and going up it I slipped on the icy grass and fell. I had Zoe clutched tight in my right arm. But when the man found me, Zoe wasn’t there.”

  “Gracie!”

  “Don’t worry. Someone had already brought her to this house. Cole Chisholm is the one who found me, and he said I brought her and then went back for the stuff in my car, but I didn’t. I would remember that. I don’t know how Zoe got to the house.”

  “That’s really strange, but I’m glad you’re both okay.”

  “This whole place is kind of strange.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cole’s grandfather Walter lives here. Walter’s son died. I don’t know how long ago, but I’m guessing a long time. His name was Jamie, and there are pictures of him all over the walls. I mean, like wallpaper. And not one of Cole. It’s eerie. The grandfather is always talking about the grandmother, and at times I feel like she’s here. And to make matters worse, Cole is a cop.”

  “What!”

  “Yes. A cop. Can you believe that? I have the worst luck in the world.”

  “Sweetie, just get the car fixed and get out of there.”

  “That’s what I plan to do.”

  “W
hat’s Cole like?”

  Grace glanced to where he was stacking wood on the hearth. “He’s tall with sandy-brown hair. Strong, prominent features that look as if they’ve been chiseled by the hand of God.” Where did that thought come from? Her eyes stayed on him as he stacked the wood. “Broad shoulders and muscled. If I close my eyes and picture a fantasy guy in my head, which I would never do, he would probably look just like this guy.”

  “Don’t close your eyes.”

  Grace suppressed a laugh. She had no interest in take-charge guy. She had no interest in any guy right now. Her senses were just overreacting. She brought her mind back to what was important.

  “Has he been to the house?”

  “Oh, yes, sweetie. He’s been here twice this morning and once this afternoon. He told me to tell you if you don’t bring Zoe back, you’ll regret it.”

  Goose bumps popped up on her skin, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

  “But don’t you worry. I’ll take care of him. You just keep Zoe safe.”

  “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, Frannie. But in my heart I feel I am. I get so confused sometimes, but my conscience won’t let me abandon Zoe.”

  “You know, sweetie, you might try confiding in the cop guy. He might be able to help you.”

  Grace glanced toward Cole, who went out the French doors to get more wood. He seemed like a straight-arrow kind of guy who would never break the law.

  “I better go, Frannie. I’ll call again later.”

  “You know I’m here for you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to confide in.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweetie. Take care of yourself and that baby, and I hope you come home soon. It’s rather lonely around here.”

  Grace dropped her phone into her purse and wondered if she could trust Cole Chisholm. Would he help her?

  “Were you talking to your aunt?” Cole startled her with the question. She hadn’t heard him come back into the house.

  “Y-yes. I told her what happened, but she can’t help me because she doesn’t drive. I’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

  “You can stay here and help me,” Grandpa said out of the blue, and Cole sent him a cold stare. “That way Cole can go back to Austin.”

  “Grandpa, she’s not looking for work.” He glanced at her. “Are you?”

  “Huh...no...I...I took some time off to spend with Zoe.” She stammered and stuttered like a guilty person. But the offer was exactly what she needed. She could hide out in this hick town, and Joel Briggs would never find her.

  * * *

  COLE HAD BEEN a cop long enough to know that Grace Bennett was hiding something. He would find out one way or the other.

  They settled in for the night, and Cole’s grandfather started snoring right away. Grace was in Grandma’s chair, Grandpa was in his and Cole took the sofa. He turned off the flashlight and the darkness covered them as warmly as the blankets, the fire the only light in the room.

  “What’s that noise?” she asked.

  “There are actually three noises. A tree limb is rubbing against the house, and the wind is howling through the trees and is also turning the vents on top of the house.”

  “It reminds me of a horror movie I saw in my teens. I haven’t liked the howling wind since.”

  “There’s nothing scary here but the weather.” He twisted and turned on the sofa. It was too short, and his feet hung over the arm. “Where are you from?”

  She didn’t answer at first, and he knew she was gauging her response. Finally, she said, “Austin.”

  “I work in Austin, and I have a friend who is a member of the SWAT team there. We’ve been friends all our lives. We joined the Army together and did two tours in Afghanistan and then decided it was time to come home. We joined the police academy together, and Bo was offered a job in SWAT. He’s a sharpshooter.”

  “What’s your talent?”

  “I can read people.”

  “Oh.”

  He let that sink in for a minute.

  When she didn’t say anything else, he said, “My grandfather likes you and the baby.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you interested in staying here for a while? I’ve been looking for someone so I can go back to work, but he doesn’t like too many people. He just wants Grandma back.”

  “I can stay until my car gets fixed. How long do you think that will take?”

  “Bubba, who owns a tow truck and gas station, will pull it over to Lamar Jones’s shop. He works on cars.”

  “How long do you think it will take to fix it?”

  “Depends on what’s wrong with it. The right headlight and fender are smashed, and he’ll have to order those parts and fix whatever else is wrong with the car. It’s going to take two weeks or more, I’m sure. And, remember, it’s Thanksgiving week.”

  “Do you mind if I stay here until then?”

  Cole pushed into a sitting position and pulled the heavy quilt around him. “Depends on your answer.”

  “What answer?”

  “What are you running from, Ms. Bennett?”

  Silence met his question.

  “I’ve been a cop so long that I know when someone is nervous. I know when someone is scared. I know when someone is lying, and I know when someone is hiding something. And, Ms. Bennett, you’re hiding something.”

  His words were followed by a lengthy pause, and he didn’t think she was going to respond until he heard her say in a low voice, “You’re a cop. I can’t talk to you.”

  “When I’m here at my grandpa’s house, I’m not a cop. I’m just Jamie’s son.”

  “It’s weird there are so many pictures of your father in this room.”

  Cole didn’t need to see the photos to know they were there. He was always aware of their presence.

  “And there’s not one photo of you.”

  Thanks for pointing that out. He didn’t say the words out loud, but every time he walked into the den, he wanted to shout those words. It was as if his existence had been forgotten, and he’d felt that all through his growing-up years. He shook his head, trying to clear the painful memories.

  “Yeah. I grew up tough because my grandparents made me that way. My only thought as I turned eighteen was I had to leave this place. I had to go somewhere where there were no pictures of Jamie.”

  “That’s why you joined the Army?”

  “Yeah. They wanted me to go to Texas A&M and drive back and forth like my father, but I bucked that every step of the way. It broke my grandmother’s heart. She screamed and cried and begged, and I still enlisted. I didn’t need her permission. I just needed to go. She didn’t understand it, but I had to do it for my own sanity.”

  He stopped himself. What was he doing? Pouring out his guts to a woman he barely knew. He never did that, not even with Stephanie. It had something to do with the darkness—darkness hiding secrets. He quickly shifted back to the person in control.

  “Where’s your husband, Ms. Bennett?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “The baby’s father?”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “Ms. Bennett...”

  “Could we please not talk about this tonight? My head is hurting, and I really just want to get some rest.”

  Cole got up to put two more logs on the fire, which sparkled, popped and hissed, bathing the room in a warm glow. Grandpa snored away.

  “Please let me stay here,” she said in a voice so quiet he barely caught it. But the sincerity in her voice swayed him.

  “Where did you work before you took time off to take care of Zoe?”

  “Golden Years Retirement Villas. I’m the social director, so I’m qualified to take care of elderly people.”

  “You hav
en’t taken care of anyone like Grandpa. He will push you to the limit, and you have a kid to think about.”

  “Trust me, I can handle him. He’s just hurting...like you are.”

  “I’m not hurting.” He went back to the sofa. How dare she try to analyze him. She didn’t know anything about him. He yanked the big quilt and blanket over his body and lay down. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, and you’re going to be completely honest.”

  “I feel like I should salute or something. You have a commanding voice.”

  He smiled to himself. Maybe he did. But Ms. Bennett wasn’t going to get around him.

  * * *

  COLE WOKE UP a couple of times to put more logs on the fire. It kept the room warm, but the coldness was creeping in from the other rooms and from the outside.

  The next time he woke up, the baby was standing up peeping over the top of the baby crib. She stared at him with the bow that had been in her hair in her mouth. She was chewing on it.

  “Hey, hey, I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.” He grabbed the bow out of her mouth, and she smiled at him with big brown eyes. She was cute as a room full of puppies, as Grandpa would say. Then he caught the smell. Where was it coming from? He leaned in toward the baby. Oh, yeah.

  Grace woke up and scrambled out of her chair. “I didn’t realize she was awake. Oh—” she pulled back and then picked up the baby “—she has a dirty diaper.”

  “That’s pretty obvious.”

  Grandpa woke up with a frown. “What’s that smell?”

  “It’s the baby, Grandpa.”

  “What are you feeding that kid?”

  “She’s a baby, for heaven’s sake. I’ll clean her up.”

  Cole clicked on the flashlight so she could see and watched in amazement as she changed the baby’s diaper in record time. As she stuffed the dirty diaper into a bag, she glanced at Cole.

  “She’s going to want her bottle, and I have no way to warm it.”