Natural Born Lawman

Though her plight was increasingly desperate, she reminded herself that she still had a bank card with her. Though there was a risk that Will would use any transactions with it to track her, she would use it to get cash if there were no options left to her. She could get enough money to last a few more days, until she could find another town, maybe get a job and find a safe place for herself and Billy. It might even be smarter to abandon the car and fly to another state. If she used cash for the tickets, it would make the job of tracking her more difficult. It was a huge country and Will’s reach surely couldn’t extend to every corner of it.

When the car sputtered then chugged to a stop barely ten miles outside of Los Piños, she realized that in her rush to get away from the deputy, she’d made a terrible miscalculation. The blasted car was out of gas. It hardly mattered that she had the credit card or a few dollars left in her purse. She hadn’t passed a gas station heading out of town. It was impossible to know how far ahead the next one might be.

That was the only reason, she assured herself, that Justin whoever-he-was-lawman caught up with her. He found her on the side of the road, cursing a blue streak about the gas-guzzling car Will had insisted she have, and rocking the fussy toddler in her arms. His reflective sunglasses prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes, but his I-told-you-so smile said it all. He’d never doubted for a moment that he’d catch up with her and haul her into custody.

“Get in,” he ordered, gesturing toward the patrol car.

“You’re arresting me?” she asked, as if it were the most ridiculous notion she’d ever heard. Will had been a master of haughty indignation and she had learned by example.

Their gazes clashed, hers defiant, his unreadable.

“No,” he said finally with a heavy sigh. “I’m taking you back into town. Unless you’d prefer to stand around here and wait for someone else to come along and offer you a lift. I’ll tell you right now, though, that it’s a very long way to the next town and hardly anybody uses this particular stretch of road.”

Patsy had guessed as much. Not a single car had passed by while she’d been standing beside the car, cursing her lousy luck.

“Sooner or later…” she began, thinking anything would be better than going someplace with this hard, no-nonsense man.

“Are you willing to take that chance? If your son’s sick, this heat won’t help.”

Her resolve wavered. “But the car…”

“Isn’t going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll have someone bring out some gas and drive it back into town.”

“I could wait,” she suggested hopefully.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then you are arresting me.”

“Dammit, no. Like I said, I am just trying to get you and the baby out of this blazing heat.”

“Oh.”

He opened the door to the front seat, which reassured her slightly. If he were arresting her, surely she’d be locked securely in the back. He tossed the bottle of Tylenol over to her, then indicated the carton of juice on the seat. “I brought those along for your boy.”

So he did have a heart, after all. Patsy swallowed hard against the tears that threatened. It was enough lure to get her inside. “Thank you.”

He closed the door, then went around to the driver’s side. When he was behind the wheel, he said, “There’s a milk shake in the holder there. You look as if you could use it.”

Patsy shook her head, unwilling to be too indebted to this man who so clearly—and justifiably—disapproved of her. “No, thanks.”

He rolled his eyes at her deliberate contrariness. “Suit yourself.”

The drive into town was made in uncomfortable silence. She waited for another explosion of temper or a stern lecture, but instead he glanced over at Billy, who was belted into the seat with her, no doubt a bending of the rules he was so fond of enforcing. He hadn’t argued with her, though, or insisted she get his car seat and put him in the back.

“Is he okay? Are you sure you don’t want to get him to a doctor?” he asked. “There’s a hospital in Garden City. I could run you over to the emergency room there.”

“No,” she said in a rush. When he shot a sharp-eyed look at her, she explained, “He’ll be fine, once his fever goes down. He’s just tired and fussy. I think he’s getting a bit of a cold.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

The same uneasy silence fell again. Billy squirmed in her lap. “Mama?”

“Yes, baby.”

Billy stared back at her with fever-bright eyes, then looked over at the man behind the wheel. “Who’s that?”

“He’s a policeman. He’s helping us.”

“Nice ’liceman,” Billy murmured approvingly and fell back asleep.

Patsy glanced up just in time to catch a fleeting smile at the corners of Justin’s mouth.

“At least the boy knows when someone’s on his side,” he commented.

She regarded him doubtfully. “Are you on my side, Deputy…?”

“Adams,” he supplied. “Justin Adams. And as long as you don’t break any laws, yes.” He gave her a sharp look. “So far you haven’t, at least not technically.”

“Just because I got caught.”

“Be grateful that my cousin has a forgiving nature. She won’t press charges.”

“Is that the only reason you’re letting me off so easy?”

“Yes,” he said curtly.

Patsy studied him intently, then shook her head. Her opinion of the man had undergone several drastic shifts since he’d turned up with the juice and medicine. “I don’t think so. I think that under that by-the-book exterior beats the heart of a genuinely nice guy.”

She was almost convinced he was a man she could trust. Even after he’d caught her stealing, even after she’d fled, he had thought first of her sick child. She could see, though, that the compliment made him uncomfortable. Maybe the leniency didn’t fit his own image of himself.

“What’s wrong, Deputy? Afraid if word gets out, it’ll ruin your reputation?” she asked, daring to tease him, hoping to catch another glimpse of that potentially devastating smile again.

“Something like that,” he conceded, unsmiling.

Patsy felt an odd little shock of disappointment, then cursed herself. Was she so desperate for a friend that she was willing to trust this stranger who had the power to give her whereabouts away to her husband? He was clearly a man with a strong sense of right and wrong, a commitment to duty. He would be the worst possible choice for a friend. When it came to a choice between obligation and friendship, there would be no contest. He would choose obligation every time.

She withdrew into silence once again.

“Where are you two heading?” he asked eventually.

The question seemed innocuous enough, no more than casual conversation, except the man was a cop. Patsy hesitated.

He glanced her way and she cursed those reflective sunglasses that prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes.

“Don’t you know?” he demanded. “What kind of mother leaves home with a sick baby if she doesn’t have to?”