He wanted to believe her. Except his common sense had kicked in and, fueled with the rage, he was trembling with temper. Careful, controlled, he gritted his teeth to hold back the overwhelming urge to shout, a natural reaction to a teenager’s misbehavior. “Take what you stole out of your bag and give it back.”
“But, Daddy, I—”
“You heard me. Do it.”
Hayden gave a put-upon sigh but bowed her head and started digging through her things. It took all his effort and a quick prayer for self-control to stand there and not explode like a lit keg of ten-year-old dynamite.
One look at that woman had him praying for an extra dose of control. Overwhelming irritation jabbed deep into his chest. Probably from lack of sleep, sure, but the bookstore lady agitated him. To make matters worse she held out her slender hand, palm up, to receive a very expensive-looking cut-crystal figurine.
“Thank you,” she said in that prim voice of hers. “Now I want the other one.”
“There’s only one.” Hayden attempted the wide-eyed look again.
Katherine shook her head, her gaze locking on the teenage girl’s. “The lamb figurine has a security strip, too. What do you think is going to happen when you turn around and head back out the door?”
“Oh. Okay.”
The big man’s jaw dropped as his daughter’s innocent expression faded. She dug out a second figurine.
It was a sad thing to see a man lose belief in his child’s innocence, Katherine thought. The big hulk of a state trooper puffed up like a weightlifter getting ready to set an Olympic record. His hands fisted and his hard, masculine mouth drew downward in a heartbreaking frown. The tarnished glint of shock in his handsome brown eyes ought to have made a sensible teenager feel shame and vow never to disappoint her dad like that again.
But not this girl. She tossed her hair as she handed back the figurine. “Have it. I didn’t want it anyway.”
“Well, you took it,” Katherine said with care. “And giving these things back doesn’t change the fact that you stole them in the first place.”
“Miss McKaslin,” one of the local officers shouldered in. “We can handle it from here.”
“You’re pressing charges?” Jack Munroe raised his fists to his forehead as if his skull was about to blow.
Poor man. She felt sorry for him, but it didn’t change the facts. “You know the consequences of shoplifting. Does your daughter?”
“Does it need to come to that?” His hands dropped away, revealing stark sadness etched into the planes of his face. He radiated responsibility. “Believe me, I’ll set her straight. There’s no need to take this any further. Please.”
She didn’t know what to do with his obvious sincerity. He seemed invincible iron, and his gaze meeting hers shone with hard honesty. She could sense his hurt like cold in a winter wind. He was a good man, she could see it.
It was the girl she had to consider, who glared through her thick, spiky mascara-coated lashes with a ha-ha attitude.
Katherine quietly placed the crystal lamb in her blazer pocket along with the shepherd and considered her options. She didn’t doubt that Jack Munroe had been up all night working, just as he’d said. Dark exhaustion bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and she wagered that this mighty mountain of a man never did anything that was short of upright and honest his entire life. Pressing charges would hurt him more than the girl.
“She returned the items.” He managed to unclench his jaw enough to speak.
“Only when she was caught. If you hadn’t brought her back here, she never would have returned the figurines. She’s not truly sorry, and that’s my concern. This could happen again in another store.”
“Lady, I’m gonna ask you.” He swiped a hand over his eyes, a gesture of holding back his temper or one of fatigue, or both. “Please. Let me handle this.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I don’t know.” He swung around to glare hard at his daughter, who shrank at his look and finally hung her head in shame.
Maybe not such a tough girl—yet. Katherine folded her arms over her chest, already caring about the girl’s welfare. She was a softy, as her brother was always accusing. And it was true. She wasn’t worried about the figurines. What worried her was this girl with one foot on a path that could only lead to more trouble. “I’ll require restitution.”
“How much?” Jack reached for his wallet but stopped as Katherine shook her head.
“No, I’m not talking about money. I want volunteer work.”
Jack’s head pounded worse as Hayden let out a bellow.
“No way. Daddy, I’m not working for free in this…this store. Dad, you can use my allowance money—”
“It’s volunteer work,” Miss McKaslin interrupted evenly. “The local churches have a united charity, and they always need reliable help. There are a lot of teenagers from the youth groups involved at the free supper kitchen and the shelters. Maybe she could put in, what, sixteen hours of work? That’s roughly the value of the figurines. And she’ll make some good friends there, I’m sure.”
Youth-group kids? That caught his attention. A very reasonable solution. But what cinched it was the belligerent cock of his daughter’s jaw.
“I won’t do it, Daddy. I’m not gonna waste my time with a bunch of losers and homeless people.”
By the Grace of God, he thought. He’d sheltered her too much, he could see that painfully and—maybe, just maybe—spoiled her a little. But how could he have not?
She had no idea about the world he worked in every day. The one where bad things happened to good people, where sometimes the world’s harshness could break a spirit, and compassion and doing the right thing held immeasurable value.
It was time for his girl to grow up a little. “We’ll take your suggestion, Miss McKaslin.”
“Call me Katherine, please. I’ll have one of the coordinators call you.” She smiled, and tension drained out of her slender shoulders, squared so stubbornly under her tailored blazer.
Even though he didn’t like her, he had to admit she had class. And the smile she extended to Hayden wasn’t triumphant, but compassionate, and that impressed him, too. So he couldn’t like the woman for accusing his girl, even if she had been right, but he appreciated what she’d done. And handing him the opportunity of forcing his daughter to get involved with a youth group was just what he’d needed.
Being new to town and settling into a house and a job had taken a lot of his energy. Other priorities had been shoved aside. But no more. Resigned, he accepted the pen and notepad Katherine had taken from her pocket and handed to him.
As he jotted down his home number, he couldn’t help noticing the subtle hint of her perfume, something light and tasteful. He couldn’t say why his hand shook a little as he returned the pen and notepad.
Probably because he was working on twenty hours without sleep. That was it. “Thank you.”
Katherine wasn’t sure what to say to a father who had a big challenge on his hands. But despite her attitude, she was certain that his daughter was a good kid down deep. “Good luck.”
“You say that like you think I’m going to need it,” he said.
“I’m sure things will be smooth sailing for you from here. Hayden, you’re going to like Marin. She’s a cool youth pastor.”
“I don’t think so.” The girl rolled her eyes and gave her shank of blue hair a toss behind her shoulder and headed back through the detectors. “C’mon, Daddy, let’s get out of here.”
For an instant, Jack Munroe looked like he feared his daughter would set off the alarm again. His wide, linebacker’s shoulders looked as rigid as granite, as if he carried a heavy burden on them. Once they were through the sensors without an alarm, a visible wave of relief passed over his handsome features.
Yep, he was going to need more than good luck. She would put him on her prayer list tonight.
She turned to thank the town officers, who were already on their way out.
Kelly looked up from the book she was reading at the register. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”
“I’m fine. Now that it’s quieted back down, I don’t think we’re going to see a lot of business with this storm. Did you want to go home? The roads are only going to get worse.”