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“Mommy, look what Miss Jillian helped me make!” Cassie’s daughter, Emma, came bounding down the stairs of the picturesque inn with the energy and volume befitting a marching band, not a four-year-old. “I made Valentine’s cards!”
Behind, at a more sedate pace, came Cassie’s best friend and employee, Jillian Caruso. With her mass of black curls and pale skin, she looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, despite her casual jeans and sweater. Right now she also looked a tad guilty. “Before you say anything, this wasn’t my fault. I told her I would help her make some, but all the ideas were hers.”
Cassie arched an eyebrow, but let it go. She was just grateful Jillian had been willing to entertain Emma. Normally her mom watched Emma after her preschool let out, but today there had been a schedule conflict. Emma was much happier playing at the inn than being stuck with Cassie at the clinic yet again. “Hi, sunshine. I missed you.” She swept her up in a hug, letting go of the tension that had dogged her all day. This was why she worked so hard. This little girl was the most important thing in her world and worth all the long hours and missed sleep of the past few months. “Are you having fun?”
“She should be,” Jillian broke in. “She’s been here less than an hour and we’ve already played on the playground, looked for seashells on the beach and made brownies.”
“Are you a policeman? Did my mommy do something bad?”
Cassie had almost forgotten the deputy behind her. Blushing, she set Emma back down and turned to find him a few feet away, smiling as if she hadn’t just bitten his head off.
“Hello, sweetie. I’m Alex. What’s your name?”
“I’m Emma. Are you going to take someone to jail?”
“Not today. Unless there are any bad guys here?” His dimples showed when he smiled. Cops should not have dimples.
“Nope, just me and Miss Jillian and Mr. Nic. And Murphy. He’s their dog. And a bunch of people for the meeting. But they’re going to help kids, so they can’t be bad, right?” Her little brows furrowed as she thought.
“Probably not. Helping kids is a good thing. Are you going to help?”
Emma’s curls bounced as she nodded. “Yup, I get to help with the decorations. Mommy said so. And I get to come to the big Valentine’s Day dance. I’m going to wear a red dress.”
“A red dress? Sounds like a great party.” He raised his gaze to the third member of the group.
“Hi, I’m Jillian. Welcome to the Sandpiper Inn.” She offered her hand to the handsome deputy.
“Nice to meet you. Alex Santiago. Thanks for offering to host the meeting here.”
Jillian smiled, her face lighting up. “We’re happy to do it. I grew up in foster care myself—I know how hard it can be. Even the best foster families often can’t always give the kids as much attention as they need. It will be great if we can get a real mentor program started.”
If 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. As she listed off the various jobs, he made a mental note to sign up for the setup crew. A strong back would be welcome when it came time to move tables and hang decorations, and it sounded a heck of a lot better than messing with tissue paper and glitter for the decorating committee.
Finally, the talking was over. Everyone milled around, catching up on gossip as they waited to sign up on the clipboards on the front table. He started that way, easing through the crowd as best as he could, given that everyone there seemed to want to greet him personally. He’d exchanged small talk with half a dozen people and was less than halfway across the room when he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Deputy?”
It was the chairwoman, now sporting rhinestone spectacles and wielding a clipboard.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re new in town, aren’t you?” The question was just shy of an accusation, and the shrewd eyes behind the glasses were every bit as sharp as a seasoned detective’s.
“I am.” He extended a hand. “Alex Santiago. Nice to meet you.”
She gripped him with a wiry strength, then spoke over his shoulder. “Hold on, Tom, I’ll be right there.” Turning her attention back to him, she smiled. “I have to go handle that. But don’t worry. I’ll get you signed up myself.”
Grateful that he wouldn’t have to fight the crowd, he backtracked to the front door. He was almost there when it hit him. “Mrs. Rosenberg?”
From across the room she turned. “Yes?”
“Which committee are you signing me up for?”
“Oh, all of them, of course.”
Of course.
* * *
Cassie spent most of the drive home trying to figure out what to say to Emma about her valentines. She still wasn’t sure how to explain things in a way a four-year-old could understand, but she’d come up with something. She always did.
She set her purse down on the counter and put the old-fashioned kettle on the stove. “Emma, go put your backpack in your room, and get ready for your bath, please. I’ll be right there.” It was so late she was tempted to skip the bath part of bedtime, but changing the schedule would undoubtedly backfire and keep the tyke up later in the long run. Besides, after an afternoon romping on the beach and exploring the Sandpiper’s sprawling grounds, her daughter was in dire need of a scrub-down.
Enjoying the brief quiet, she kicked off her sensible shoes and opened the sliding door to the patio. The screened room was her favorite part of the house, especially at this time of year. The air was chilly by Florida standards, but still comfortable. Right now she would have loved to curl up on the old chaise with her tea and a cozy mystery, but tonight, like most nights, there just wasn’t time.
“Mommy, I’m ready for my bath.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” Duty called. Taking a last breath of the crisp night air, she caught the scent of the Lady of the Night orchid she’d been babying. It would bloom for only a few nights; hopefully she’d get a chance to enjoy it. But for now, she closed the door and went to find her daughter, stopping to fill her mug with boiling water and an herbal tea bag.
Emma was waiting in the bathroom, stripped down to her birthday suit and clutching her favorite rubber ducky. “Bubbles?” she asked hopefully.
“Bubbles. But only a quick bath tonight. It’s late.”
The little girl nodded solemnly. “Okay, Mommy.”
Cassie’s heart squeezed. No matter how stressed or tired she was, she never got tired of hearing the word Mommy from her baby’s lips. She couldn’t say she’d done everything right, but this little girl—she had to be a reward for something. She was too good to be anything but that. There was nothing Cassie wouldn’t do for her. Which was why it broke her heart to know she couldn’t give Emma her biggest wish.
“So did you have fun today at the Sandpiper?” She watched the water level rise around her daughter, the bubbles forming softly scented mountains.
“Yup. I played with Murphy and ate brownies, and we saw a butterfly, and Mr. Nic pushed me super high on the swings.”
Nic was Jillian’s husband. He had bought the Sandpiper for Jillian just a few months ago, and the playground was one of the first things he’d added to the grounds. He and Jillian were hoping for a child of their own soon, but in the meantime the paying guests—and Emma—made good use of it. “That sounds like a real adventure.”
“Uh-huh. And then Miss Jillian helped me make my valentines. I made one for her, and you, and for a daddy. We just need to get one so I can give it to him.”
Darn. The child hadn’t forgotten, not that Cassie was surprised. Emma had perfect recall when it came to what she wanted. Now to figure out a way to let her down without breaking her heart. “Honey, I can’t just go get you a daddy.”
Emma frowned up at her.
Okay, that didn’t work. “You are going to have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. You’re going to have a party at school with cupcakes and candy and everything. And then we’ll go to the big dance. It’s going to be great, you’ll see.”
“It would be better if I had a daddy. Then he could be our valentine. Like Mr. Nic is Jillian’s valentine. I heard him say so.”
Cassie blinked back the sudden sting of tears. She’d tried to be everything for Emma, to provide enough love for two parents, but the older Emma got, the more she realized something was different. Something, someone, was missing.
“A daddy would be nice,” she conceded. “But you have me. And we’re a great team, you and I. So if you don’t have a daddy right now, that’s okay, because we have each other, right?”
Emma looked thoughtful, her nose crinkling as she considered. “But why don’t I get to have a daddy? Lots of kids at school have one.”
The pounding behind Cassie’s eyes returned with a vengeance. Rubbing her temples, she tried to explain to her daughter what she still didn’t understand herself. “That’s just how it is sometimes. Some kids have mommies, and some kids have daddies, and some kids have both.”
“Oh, and some kids don’t have a mommy or a daddy, right? That’s why we get to have the Share the Love party, to help them, right, Mom?”
Cassie sighed in relief. “Right, honey. Those kids are in foster care with people that take care of them until they get a new mommy and daddy. Every family is different, and we just have to be happy about the one we have.”
Her face falling, Emma nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Watching her daughter’s solemn expression, Cassie felt like she’d kicked a puppy. The guilt sat heavy in the pit of her stomach, reminding her of how her choices had led to this. Her impulsiveness, her recklessness, had created this situation. For the millionth time, she fought the instinct to regret ever meeting her lying ex. But of course, without him, there would be no Emma. And that was simply unthinkable. Being a single parent was hard, but it was worth it.
That didn’t mean that she didn’t sometimes wish she had a partner in all of this. As she toweled Emma off and got her ready for bed, she wondered what it would have been like to have a man to talk to once her daughter was asleep. Instead of eating ice cream out of the carton, she’d have someone she could talk things out with, someone to share her fears and frustrations with.
But letting someone into her life, relying on him like that, was too big a risk. She’d let her emotions carry her away once, and look how well that turned out. No, she needed to keep doing what she was doing and leave the idea of romance alone. She wasn’t any good at it, and she couldn’t afford to make that kind of mistake again.
Chapter Three (#ulink_4a3385c6-b256-5684-8f6d-4479d60b1ebc)
Alex was still shaking his head over Mrs. Rosenberg’s sign-up shenanigans ten hours later. And puzzling over the intriguing veterinarian, despite the way she’d blown him off. She was fire and ice, and definitely not interested, but he couldn’t quite get her out of his head. Between her and Mrs. Rosenberg, the island definitely had its share of headstrong women.
He’d spent the long night patrolling the quiet streets of Paradise and the connecting highway across the bridge, alone except for Rex and his own thoughts. He was grateful for the lack of crime, but the slow shift gave him too much time to think, too much time to remember the chain of events that had brought him here. Not that this was a bad place to be.
When he’d accepted the position with the Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department, he’d expected to be working at the county headquarters in Coconut Bay. Instead he’d been assigned to the small substation serving Paradise. The island was too small to support a city police force, so it, like some of the rural ranching areas across the bridge on the mainland, was under county law enforcement.
As dawn approached, he made a last loop along the beach road to catch the sunrise over the ocean. Stopping in one of the many parking spaces that bordered the dunes, he got out and stretched, his neck popping loudly. At Rex’s insistence, he opened the back door as well, snapping the dog’s leash on and walking him to a grassy area to relieve himself. When the dog had emptied his bladder, they strolled together to one of the staircases that led down to the sand.
Here he had an unobstructed view of the water and the already pink sky that seemed to melt along the horizon, the water turning a molten orange as the fiery sun crept up to start the day. Sipping from the lukewarm coffee he’d picked up a few hours ago at a gas station on the mainland, he let himself enjoy the quiet. No jarring static from the two-way radio, no traffic, just the soft sound of the waves rolling on the sand and Rex’s soft snuffling as he investigated the brush along the stairway.
Alex had made a habit of doing this since he moved here. In the clear morning light, he could feel good about himself, his job, the direction his life was taking. The fresh start to the day was a reminder of his own fresh start, one that he hadn’t asked for, but probably needed.
He was over thirty now, as his mother never failed to remind him. Maybe here he’d find a life beyond his work. He wasn’t a family man; nothing in his background had prepared him for that kind of life, but a place like Paradise made him want to settle down a bit, make some friends, maybe join a softball team or something.
Chuckling at the image, he turned to go. Rex, trained to stay with him, uncharacteristically resisted the tug on the leash. Maybe he was tired, too.
“Here, boy! Come on, it’s quitting time. Let’s go.”
The dog stood his ground, whiskers trembling as he stared into the dark space under the steps.
“What it is it, boy?” Alex found himself lowering his voice, catching the dog’s mood. He was no dog whisperer, but obviously there was something under the stairs. Something more than the broken bottles and fast-food wrappers that sometimes got lodged there.
