Forgiveness Starts With A Stolen Kiss

Chief of police Trent Knight had it all until an accident took his wife and he was left alone to raise two beautiful girls. Now the person he always blamed for his loss is back in town, and all bets are off. But soon his anger toward Carmen Shields gives way to a very different emotion—awareness of Carmen as a woman. On one hand, it feels like a betrayal of his late wife’s memory. On the other, it could be his second chance at life—and Carmen’s shot at redemption. Maybe she can go home again—with the help of a certain lawman...

The sound of laughter followed by the slam of a car door jolted him, bringing him back to his surroundings.

He was on his front porch, making out like a horny teenager. He eased back, reluctantly ending the kiss, then leaned his forehead against hers.

“Wow,” Carmen breathed, her voice soft and slightly shocked. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Should I apologize?”

“Only for stopping.”

“Nobody is sorrier for that than I am. But the chief of police shouldn’t be caught making out in public.”

She kissed him briefly before backing away. “It kind of kills the hard-nosed reputation, huh?”

“It doesn’t help.”

She leaned over and put on her shoes. He hadn’t been aware she’d removed them. What else had escaped his attention while he let his desire get the best of him? “We need to talk.”

“Not necessary.” She brushed a slender finger over his wedding band. “I understand.”

* * *

Sweet Briar Sweethearts: There’s something about Sweet Briar...

How to Steal the Lawman’s Heart

Kathy Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHY DOUGLASS came by her love of reading naturally–both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.

After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small-town contemporary novels she enjoys reading.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This book is dedicated with love to my own three heroes: my husband and two sons. Thank you for loving and supporting me while I worked toward achieving my dream. I could not have done this without you.

This book is also dedicated to my family of origin: my parents, who always believed in me, and my siblings, who were my first friends.

Thanks to my critique partner, Lauren Canan, for your constant encouragement and for lifting me whenever I was down. You are the best.

Thanks to New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Brenda Novak for giving aspiring authors the opportunity to get their work to editors and agents in her auction to find a cure for diabetes. You are an example of all that is right in the romance writer community.

Thanks to my editor, Charles Griemsman, who worked tirelessly to make this book the best it could be. I appreciate all that you do.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Carmen Shields spotted the flashing lights in her rearview mirror and groaned. The worst day of her life was about to get even worse.

“I hope all the papers are in order,” she mumbled, pulling the rental car to the side of the road. She’d been in too much of a hurry when her plane landed in Charlotte forty-five minutes late to do more than toss her hastily packed suitcase into the trunk of the car and drive out of the parking lot at the airport terminal.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d wept nonstop since yesterday, when she’d read about her mother’s death in the Sweet Briar Herald. Although she lived in New York, she had a subscription to her hometown newspaper, the lone link to her past. Her heart ached as she recounted the number of times she’d picked up the phone, only to hang up without dialing. She’d let her fear of rejection win. And now it was too late.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, then rummaged through her purse, quickly grabbing her driver’s license and proof of insurance.

Carmen glanced out the side mirror at the brown-skinned man with close-cropped black hair as he climbed out of the squad car. He looked at her license plate, then spoke into a radio attached to the shoulder of his shirt. Tall and muscular, he projected an air of confidence.

“What’s taking so long?” she wondered aloud. If he didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be able to sneak into the church and grab a seat in the back pew. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being spotted by her father. He’d made it clear when he’d thrown her out of the house seven years ago that he no longer considered her his daughter. She’d gotten into too much trouble and had embarrassed him one too many times. The accident had been the last straw. Although she doubted he would risk tarnishing his sterling reputation by personally kicking her out, he wouldn’t hesitate to have someone else escort her from the funeral. But she wouldn’t let him prevent her from saying goodbye this time.

She stifled the urge to lay on the horn, settling for peering out the mirror once more. The officer must have noticed her looking, because he raised a finger in the universal wait-a-minute sign as he grabbed a pen from his pocket and wrote something on a pad. Swallowing her frustration, she resigned herself to losing even more time. The last thing she wanted was to irritate the police. Her one and only run-in with the law when she was eighteen was more than enough to last her a lifetime.

“License, please.”

His stealth startled her and she jumped, tossing a quick look at him. She quickly passed the requested ID card out the window, then concentrated on slowing her breathing. Seeming guilty was never good.

“Sunglasses,” he added, taking the license into his large hand.

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“Please remove your sunglasses.”

She quickly complied, folding the glasses and placing them on the dashboard.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asked, studying her face. She looked back at him, but his rugged face, square jaw and dark eyes weren’t familiar. She didn’t expect him to recognize her, either. She didn’t look anything like she did when she left town seven years ago.

“No.” She looked away from his probing eyes to focus on his uniform, searching his broad chest for a name tag. Her heart stopped when she realized he wasn’t wearing an officer’s uniform. She’d been stopped by the chief of police. Of course, he wasn’t old, humorless, overweight Dale Muldoon, who’d been chief seven years ago. Thank goodness. He’d been firmly in her father’s pocket and wouldn’t make a move without clearing it with Charles Shields first. She just hoped this chief wasn’t in her father’s pocket, too.

* * *

Trenton Knight looked at the young woman. “Speeding. You were doing forty in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone. There’s a grade school two blocks from here. Plenty of children cross this road every day.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was going over the limit.”

“We take speeding very seriously.”

“Sorry,” she repeated.

Trent nodded. She sounded sincere, but a little bit distracted, as well. Something about her was definitely off. He looked at her more carefully. Young, with flawless golden-brown skin and high cheekbones, she was model beautiful. Her coffee-brown eyes were red-rimmed. Her full bottom lip trembled. He didn’t smell alcohol, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t impaired.

He tucked her license into his breast pocket and backed away from the door. “Step out of the car please, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened and she blinked. “What? Why? Can’t you please just give me the ticket and let me go?”

The desperation in her voice and the sudden panic in her eyes convinced Trent he needed to take a closer look at her. “Please step out of the vehicle.”

The woman sighed, opened the door and stepped out of the car. Standing ramrod straight, her small hands clutched in front of her, she stared at him as if awaiting further instructions. She was smaller than she’d appeared inside the vehicle, barely reaching his shoulder. She was dressed more conservatively than he’d expected, as well. The wind blew her shoulder-length hair into her eyes, and she pushed it behind her ear with a delicate hand.

She was wearing a black silk tank and a long black skirt that swirled around her ankles, nearly touching her shiny black sandals. He glanced inside the car. A black jacket was hanging on the hook behind the driver’s door.

He put the clues together easily. She wasn’t impaired. Her eyes were red from crying. Even now she was struggling to keep the tears in check. She was mourning the loss of a loved one. He knew that agony all too well. He still grieved his wife’s loss and always would.

She looked at him, her brown eyes wary. “Do you need anything else from me, Chief?”

“No.” Not now that he knew she was suffering.

“Then may I please go? I’m on my way to a funeral,” she said, confirming his conclusion. “If I don’t leave soon, it’ll be too late.” She turned her head slightly as if trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She slid a finger under her eye before turning back to him. “I promise to do the speed limit all the way. And I’ll pay my ticket before I leave town. I swear.”

Her slightly husky voice broke on the last word. Despite his hard-and-fast rule that every speeder got a ticket, he couldn’t give one to her. Not today, when she was so obviously heartbroken. Even he wasn’t that merciless.

“I’m not going to give you a ticket this time. Just a warning to slow down. Your family wouldn’t want the next funeral to be yours.”

“Thank you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her driver’s license, glancing at the name. His heart stopped.

Carmen Shields. Carmen Shields! The woman responsible for his wife’s death. She might not have been driving the night of the crash, but she’d been in the car and hadn’t kept her friend from driving drunk.

He looked at her outstretched hand and then back at her face. He was surprised he hadn’t recognized her. True, she looked nothing like the run-amok teenager whose face was forever emblazoned in his memory. That girl’s hair had usually been a tangle of waves and curls that hung to the middle of her back, not smooth as silk and barely brushing her slight shoulders. And she’d always worn large earrings, not tiny pearls. The polite, respectful woman standing in front of him was definitely different from the rude and belligerent teen she’d been. But still, because of this woman, he’d lost his precious Anna.

“Carmen Shields. I should have recognized you.”

The sympathy he’d felt a moment ago vanished, replaced by fury as the night of the accident came rushing back to him.

Anna had wanted chocolate ice cream for dessert. He’d promised to pick some up after work, but he’d gotten busy and forgotten. She’d kissed his cheek and hopped in the car for a quick trip to the store. An hour later he’d gotten the call. Now, as he stood here by the side of the road, his vision blurred and his stomach churned with guilt. If only he’d remembered that stupid ice cream, his beloved Anna would never have been on that road.

“You have me at a disadvantage, Chief. I don’t know who you are. When I lived here, Dale Muldoon was the chief.”

Trent fisted his hands. Dale had helped rush the inquest, something Trent would never forgive him for. That was the reason Trent had challenged him for the position of chief of police.

“Dale retired three years ago.”

“Okay.” She stood there, hand still outstretched, waiting for him to drop her license.

“My name is Trenton Knight.”

She didn’t so much as blink in recognition. The name meant nothing to her.

“Anna Knight was my wife.”

Still no response. There was no change at all in Carmen Shields’s expression. He might as well have been speaking Greek. Had she completely forgotten the identity of the woman killed in the accident? Did the loss of life matter so little to her that she couldn’t be bothered to remember Anna’s name?

“She was killed seven years ago when an SUV driven by an intoxicated teenager ran a stop sign and plowed into her car. You were a passenger in that car.”

Carmen gasped, and he watched with grim satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. She staggered and placed a hand against her vehicle. “The woman in the other car died?”

“Yes. And our two daughters lost their mother.”

“I—I didn’t know.” She shook her head as if processing the information. “I didn’t know her name. No one would tell me anything.”

How could she not know Anna’s name or that she died? True, when Carmen had skipped town immediately following the inquest for the two teens from her vehicle who’d died in the accident, Anna was still fighting to live. But that was seven years ago. How could it be in all that time no one in the entire Shields family had felt Anna’s death was worth mentioning to her?

Anger surged through him and he spoke through gritted teeth. “She clung to life for nineteen days, fighting to live. Trying to stay with her family, who loved her. But her body had been battered too badly and she wasn’t strong enough to survive her injuries. She died in my arms.”

Carmen reached out her hands. He stiffened and stepped back. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if she touched him.

She paused and then folded her hands as if in prayer. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry for everything. If I could go back and change things, I would.”

“Your apology changes nothing.” He had half a mind to prolong this traffic stop and make her late for the funeral he now knew was for her mother. But he didn’t. Anna would never have approved of such a vengeful act. She’d been full of love and forgiveness, even for people who didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t dishonor her memory by giving in to his hatred.

He dropped the license into Carmen’s hand. “Don’t speed while you’re in my town.” He strode away, determined to get away from her and the memories she awakened. But it was too late. Seeing her had ripped open the wound in his heart that had never completely healed.

Chapter Two

Carmen stood apart from the dwindling group of mourners lingering beside her mother’s grave. She’d been close enough to hear the service, but far enough away to go unnoticed. Everything was over now. The preacher had prayed the last prayer and the final white rose had been placed upon the casket before it was lowered into the ground. One last neighbor hugged her sisters, patted her father on the shoulder and then left, leaving the sad trio alone.

A gentle breeze blew and a squirrel raced across the green grass. Carmen lifted her face to the clear blue sky. It was a perfectly beautiful day and it broke her heart that her mother wasn’t alive to enjoy it.

Rachel Shields had loved summertime, spending countless hours puttering in her garden. While their neighbors hired landscapers to design their flower beds and gardeners to maintain them, Carmen’s mother had done it all herself, despite her husband’s claim that such work was beneath the dignity of the Shields name. With flowers in every color imaginable in the numerous flower beds, the Shieldses’ gardens always outshone every yard in their neighborhood, if not the entire town. Rachel had claimed being surrounded by flowers made her happy. Now the only flowers around her were those dropped onto her casket. Soon they would be dead, too.

Carmen lowered her head and allowed the tears to fall. She’d lost so much precious time with her mother. Time she could never get back.

If only she could go back and change the events of that horrible night. She would have stayed away from those kids, would have gone to school and then straight home like she was supposed to. If she could have a do-over, she never would have started hanging out with that rowdy crowd in the first place.

But there was no magic eraser to remove the mistakes of her past. She could only move forward and make better decisions.

Swallowing more tears, Carmen eased closer to her family. Although she’d seen her father as he’d walked into the church between her two sisters, she was still shocked by the physical changes in him. The father she remembered had been tall and slightly overweight. Robust. He’d always been larger than life. Charles Shields had dominated every room he’d been in, throwing his weight around until he’d gotten his way. Now he looked like a strong wind could blow him over. Where he’d once been the man in charge, now he looked lost.

“Daddy,” Carmen said, her voice cracking. No one turned and she realized she’d whispered the word. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Daddy.”

Her father and sisters froze and then as one turned to stare at her. Charlotte, her oldest sister, looked at her with blank eyes, black mascara streaks on her face. Charmaine, the middle sister, gasped and blinked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Her father, however, looked at her for barely a second before turning and stalking to the limousine idling several yards away.

“Daddy, please,” she cried in anguish. “Please talk to me.” She grabbed the nearest headstone and leaned against it, her strength suddenly gone in the face of his total rejection. He hadn’t even hesitated. He’d simply looked at her—no, through her—and turned and walked away. Like she was a stranger.

Charmaine started toward Carmen, but Charlotte stopped her with a hand on her arm. Charlotte’s cold eyes drilled into Carmen, enlarging the hole in her soul. “This isn’t the time or the place. Daddy is grieving. He doesn’t need this drama now.”

“Drama? I don’t want to cause a scene or upset him. I just want to talk to him.” To have him wrap her in his arms the way he’d done when she’d fallen off her bike and scraped her knee so many years ago.

When she was a little girl, her daddy had been her hero. She’d worshipped him until she discovered his love was conditional. As long as she dressed the way he wanted and associated with the people he chose, his love was hers. When she’d rebelled and begun making her own choices, his love evaporated like dew in the sun. Still, a part of her always hoped he’d regret turning her away, and that once his anger cooled, he would welcome her back. But his anger and disappointment burned just as hotly now as they did seven years ago. He really had stopped loving her.

Charmaine pulled away from their older sister and came to stand before Carmen. Charmaine made no attempt to touch her, so she kept her own arms by her sides, despite how badly she needed a hug. “Carmen, please try to understand. Daddy’s hurting. He and Mama were married for thirty-five years. He’s still in shock over losing her so suddenly. Seeing you is another shock to him.”

“And I lost my mother,” Carmen added, hoping Charmaine could see how hurt and lost she felt. How alone.

“Isn’t that just like you?” Charlotte snarled. “After everything you put us through, you’re thinking only of yourself.”

“That’s not true,” Carmen protested, stepping closer to Charlotte. “I know you’re hurting as much as I am. I thought we could help each other through the grief.”

Charlotte drew herself up to her full height, and in that moment she so resembled their father in all her self-righteous glory that Carmen could only stare. “Really? You expect to just waltz back into town and act like you didn’t bring shame upon our family?”

Charlotte had always been a female version of their father, hard and unforgiving, with pride to spare. Despite that, they had been close when Carmen was a little girl. When she began getting into trouble and angering Charles, Charlotte had turned off her love as easily as she might have switched off a light.

Charles had demanded Carmen live up to his impossibly high standards of behavior. When she realized that nothing short of robotic obedience would satisfy him, she’d stopped trying. She’d started skipping school and running with a bunch of troublemakers. Although the phase hadn’t lasted long, it had a devastating effect on her life. Her father had been on the verge of launching a campaign for Congress when the accident occurred, quashing his dream. Apparently, he had yet to forgive her.

Carmen realized now the hope she harbored that her sisters would welcome her back was completely irrational. That was never going to happen. Charlotte needed Charles’s approval and would never defy him. Charmaine was too afraid to go against her sister and father. More mouse than woman, she was happiest when invisible. She might love Carmen and might even be glad to see her, but she’d never act on those feelings as long as Charles forbade it.

Carmen watched as her sisters joined their father in the limousine before it sped away. Once more she was alone, separated from a family that didn’t want her. Only this time, instead of being banished from her home by an angry father, she was left standing alone in a cemetery. The heartbreak, though, was no different.

Forcing her legs to stop wobbling, Carmen strode closer to her mother’s grave. Her family had placed white roses on the casket before it was lowered into the ground. There were still several roses left in a tall vase beside the grave, so she removed the most beautiful one. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled its sweet fragrance and then kissed it. She closed her eyes, prayed for strength she would need now more than ever and dropped the flower into the grave.

“Goodbye, Mama. I loved you even when you stopped loving me.”

Carmen stood there a moment longer, before finally turning and trudging to her rental car. She had just sat down when her cell phone vibrated. She reached for it gratefully, relieved that she had been saved from sinking into despair, or worse, self-pity.

“Hello.”

“How are you, Carmen?”

Damon’s warm voice wrapped around her, providing her with the comfort her family had refused to give, and some of the tension slipped from her shoulders. He was more than her best friend. He was the supportive father figure she’d needed. She wouldn’t have survived these past years without him.

She’d been homeless, desperate and alone in New York when he’d found her. He’d given her a job as a clerk in his plastics company and found her a place to live, paying six months’ rent in advance for her. He’d also paid for her education. In short, he’d saved her life. Later she’d learned that he’d helped many other girls, giving them what he hadn’t been able to give his own daughter.

“I’m okay,” she replied automatically, and then sniffed, fighting back the tears.

There was only silence over the line, and Carmen knew he didn’t believe her. He had the uncanny knack of knowing when she wasn’t being honest with him or herself. In the seven years she’d known him, he’d never used that ability to take advantage of her, though.

“Well, maybe okay is stretching the truth a bit,” she admitted, and gave a watery laugh.

“Did you see your father?” Damon’s question, though quietly asked, blasted through the emotions she’d been trying to keep under control. Fresh tears filled her eyes.

“Yes. And he made it clear he wants nothing to do with me. He truly meant what he said when he threw me out of the house. I’m not his daughter anymore.” The last words were swallowed up by sobs. She’d lost her family years ago. So why was the pain still so fresh?

She dragged her arm across her eyes, using the sleeve of her jacket to mop up her tears.

“Did he say that?”

Swallowing hard, she dug a tissue from her purse and wiped her nose. “No. He didn’t say anything.” She tossed the damp tissue back into her purse and grabbed another one. “And don’t tell me he’s hurting because he lost his wife. I lost my mother and I’m hurting, too.”

“I wasn’t going to say that. I’m not going to make excuses for someone I haven’t met and don’t think I would like.”

“Good.” She sniffed again. “Are you back in the States?”

“Yes. I arrived home early this morning. I only wish I could have been there with you so you wouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Carmen wished so, too. But when he’d offered to return home early from his business trip abroad to accompany her to Sweet Briar, she’d told him it wasn’t necessary. She’d naively believed that her family would welcome home their prodigal child. Fool that she was, she’d actually thought they could comfort each other at this sad time and become a family again.

“Can you pick me up at the airport?” she asked.

“I already told you I would.”

“I don’t mean in a couple of days. I mean tonight. As soon as I can get a flight home.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

Damon sighed. “What happened, baby?”

“Daddy’s not like you. He doesn’t care about second chances. He doesn’t want to have one more day with me. Not like you do with Kimberly.”

Damon’s daughter, Kimberly, had died nearly twelve years ago in a swimming accident. If she had lived, she would be a few years younger than Carmen.

“Carmen, he’s grieving,” Damon said gently, his voice calm and soothing. It was that tone that had convinced her that she could trust him all those years ago. “And he’s in shock. Give him time.”

“I thought you weren’t going to take his side.”

“I’m not. I’m on your side as always. But didn’t you tell me you wanted your family in your life again? How do you expect to accomplish that if you don’t give them a chance?”

“But what if they still don’t want me?” Her voice was small as she admitted her greatest fear. She’d almost convinced herself her worry was baseless and that they would greet her warmly. Now she knew they might never forgive her.

“Then they’re fools. But you’ll never know if reconciliation is possible if you run away. Try to work things out. Remember, I’m only a phone call away. If you need me, I’ll be on the first plane. Okay?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Okay. I’ll stay. For now.”

“Good. I’m sure you’re making the right decision.”

“There’s more,” she said, forcing out the words.

“What?”

“Remember the accident I told you about?”

“Of course I do.”

She closed her eyes on the wave of pain and guilt that shot through her. “The driver of the other car died.”

“Oh, Carmen. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I met her husband today.” Unbidden, the image of Trenton Knight flashed in her mind. His sorrow had been a tangible part of his being. Even though he wore a wedding band, she would bet it had been put there by the poor woman who’d died in the accident. His pain was too raw and his anger too hot for Carmen to believe he’d found happiness with another woman. “She had two little girls.”

Her heart ached for him and for his motherless children. She couldn’t stand knowing she’d played a role in their tragedy. She should have tried harder to convince Donny to let her drive.

She exhaled a long sigh that turned into a sob. “I apologized to him, but he didn’t accept it.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I plan on apologizing again so he’ll know I mean it.”

“That’s a good start. But if you’re seriously sorry, you have to find a way to make amends.”

“I know.” She blew out a heavy breath. “Thanks, Damon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She sat there for a while, pondering his words. Damon was right. She needed to make amends. She knew she couldn’t repair the damage she’d done, but there had to be a way to be of help to the Knight family. If she wanted to maintain her hard-earned self-respect, she had to try.

And she knew just where to start. Getting out of the car, she stood and straightened her shoulders. In order to go forward, she had to go back.

It took a bit of searching, but she found Anna Knight’s grave. The gravestone was clean and a pink rosebush had been planted in the center of the grave. Carmen took a deep breath and spoke softly.

“I’m Carmen Shields. I just found out you died in that accident.” Carmen gulped, feeling a bit uncomfortable, but plugged on.

“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I met your husband. He seemed sad.” She could have added furious as well, but she didn’t. “I know you didn’t plan on leaving your little girls. I can’t ever change that, but I promise I’ll do my best to make sure they’re all right. I’ll do all I can to help them.”

Having made her promise, she stood, turned and came face-to-face with Chief Knight.

Chapter Three

“What are you doing here?”

Carmen took in the chief’s angry face and quickly looked away as she searched for an answer. He stood between two girls, who she guessed were his daughters. The younger one looked about eight. She had a pink sheet of construction paper in her hand and was looking at Carmen curiously, a smile on her pretty face.

The other girl was older, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She was tall and thin, with an unreadable expression, her hands shoved in the back pockets of her tight jeans. She glanced at Carmen and then sighed before turning away.

Finally, Carmen did what she’d been avoiding. She looked at Chief Knight. He’d changed out of his uniform and into a pair of dark dress pants and a white pullover. Despite her nervousness, she couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt emphasized his fit torso, and then she immediately chided herself for gawking at him in front of his children. He was holding a bunch of wildflowers and a large balloon that read Happy Birthday!

A fresh wave of guilt swept through Carmen. Although she needed to begin to make amends, this clearly wasn’t the time or the place. Mumbling an apology, she started to walk away. She’d taken only one step when her heel sank into wet grass and she stumbled. She reached out for something to break her fall but encountered only air.

Cursing under his breath, Chief Knight dropped the bouquet, grabbed her upper arms and helped her to a stone bench under a nearby tree.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Their eyes met and she wished they hadn’t. Although he’d kept her from falling, his eyes reflected none of the concern of his actions. Moving to assist her had been instinctive and definitely not something he’d done out of care for her. The pure hatred in his eyes drove that point home.

He leaned in close so she alone could hear his words. Close enough for her to notice the gray flecks in his otherwise black eyes. “Don’t say that to me ever again. Your regret, even if I was foolish enough to believe it was sincere, changes nothing. Understand?”

He released her arms and quickly moved away. She nodded, choking back another apology. He was right. Words didn’t have the power to change the past. Nothing did.

“Who are you?” The little girl had followed them and now she was mere inches away, a curious expression on her pretty brown face. Dressed in a bright yellow sundress with matching hair ribbons on her two thick braids, she looked like an angel. Her gaze darted between Carmen and her father, who stood there fuming, clearly trying to control his anger.

“My name is Carmen. Carmen Shields.”

The child edged closer. She looked over her shoulder at her mother’s grave and then back to Carmen. “Did you know my mommy?”

“No,” Carmen admitted, her discomfort growing. Coming here was a mistake. She was intruding on a private family moment. She should have thought this through instead of reverting to her old impulsive behavior.

“Robyn, go wait with your sister.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The little girl took a step and stopped. She turned back to Carmen and smiled wistfully. “Mommy was special. Everybody loved her. She loved us a lot,” the girl added, before she joined her sister by the grave.

Carmen had the feeling the child had heard these words so often over the years that they fell from her lips automatically. She was probably too young to have any memories of being loved by her mother. Carmen’s regret turned to a rock of shame that settled in her stomach.

Carmen straightened her jacket, doing her best to avoid Chief Knight’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

She wanted to get away from him as fast as she could. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to wipe away the odd tingling sensation his touch left behind.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to freedom. “You never answered my question. What are you doing at my wife’s grave?”

Carmen shook her head without answering. How could she explain that she’d been drawn there? Or her need to apologize to someone who wouldn’t hear anything she said? Did words even exist to explain the vow she’d made to the other woman? She didn’t think so. Stepping around him, she hurried away.

* * *

Trent watched as Carmen weaved her way through the cemetery, carefully stepping around vases of flowers, framed pictures and other items leaning against the gravestones.

“Why was that lady here, Daddy?” Robyn asked, slipping her small hand into his and swinging their arms back and forth.

Trent shook off his anger and smiled at his younger daughter. Robyn had inherited Anna’s sunny disposition. To her, there was no such thing as a stranger, only a friend she hadn’t yet met.

“I don’t know.”

“Who was she?”

He hoped Robyn’s persistence wasn’t a sign she’d picked up on his hostility and in her youthful way was trying to figure it out.

“I know who she was,” Alyssa said.

His older daughter barely spoke to him these days unless he asked her a direct question. And then her answers were curt, as if she were rationing her words. Since her conversation was at such a premium, Trent was generally glad to hear whatever she had to say. This time, though, his heart was filled with dread. He didn’t want to talk about the night Anna died.

“You do?” How had Alyssa recognized Carmen Shields? She’d been only seven when Anna died.

“Yes.” Alyssa didn’t elaborate. Instead, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. When she turned thirteen, she’d insisted she needed to have her hair relaxed so she could stop wearing ponytails like a kid.

“Who is she?” Robyn asked again, hopping from one foot to the other when it looked like Alyssa wasn’t going to elaborate.

Alyssa focused her gaze on her sister, effectively excluding him from the conversation. “She’s one of Mrs. Shields’s relatives. You know, the lady who always brought cookies and cakes to the youth center.”

“She was nice. She always gave me an extra cookie,” Robyn said. Her eyes stopped dancing and turned solemn. “She died.”

“I know,” Trent said, feeling unwanted sympathy for Carmen Shields and her family. Rachel Shields had been a kind woman. Days after Anna’s funeral, Mrs. Shields had come to the police station and apologized for the role her daughter played in his wife’s death. He’d walked away before she could finish speaking.

She hadn’t held his behavior against him. He later discovered that she’d organized the women of her church to cook meals for his family. For eight weeks, a complete dinner had been delivered to his house promptly at five o’clock every evening. She’d also been the catalyst behind the ladies who’d shown up every Saturday to clean his house and do the laundry. As a single father of a one-year-old and a seven-year-old, he’d appreciated it.

How could a wonderful woman like Rachel Shields have raised such a thoughtless and reckless child as Carmen? Determined not to give the woman another thought, he turned to his girls.

“Come on. Let’s put down Mom’s gifts.”

All discussion of Carmen was set aside as Trent and his daughters focused their attention on Anna’s grave. The grass was neatly trimmed and Trent had scrubbed the headstone just days earlier. Robyn leaned the picture she’d drawn against her mother’s name engraved on the granite, while Alyssa tied the string holding the balloon to a heavy rock and then set it on the gravestone. If Anna had lived, she’d be thirty-eight years old today. She’d died much too young.

Trent did everything in his power to keep Anna’s memory alive for his daughters, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. Alyssa had been young when Anna died, but she had some memories of her mother. Robyn had been only a baby and had no true memories of her own. He constantly reminded both that their mother had loved them, but lately he was starting to believe that wasn’t enough.

As Anna lay dying in his arms, she’d made him promise to find a loving stepmother for their children. It was the only promise he’d ever made to her that he didn’t keep. He couldn’t. He had buried his heart with her. There was nothing left to give another woman.

Chapter Four

“Remember, you can call me anytime,” Carmen said, then recited her cell phone number. After a moment of listening to dead air, she hung up. She’d left long, rambling messages at each of her sisters’ homes. She’d tried to leave messages on their cell phones as well, but Charlotte’s number now belonged to a bike messenger service. Charmaine’s old number belonged to a man with a hostile girlfriend who threatened to rip off Carmen’s lips if she called her boyfriend again.

Carmen sat down in a striped chair and looked around the small room, hoping something would snag her attention and divert her from the depressing thoughts that were beginning to swamp her. Although one of the smaller rooms in the bed-and-breakfast, it was comfortable. The queen sleigh bed was nestled beneath the open window. A rose-scented breeze gently blew the filmy curtains. There was a cherry desk beside the door, pink floral stationery stacked in the center.

The cozy room was perfect, and under other circumstances Carmen would have enjoyed staying there. Now it felt like the walls were closing in on her. Grabbing her suitcase, she rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a pair of white slacks and a purple knit top. She changed out of her suit, grabbed her purse and headed out.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the town while driving to the church or to the cemetery. More than a little curious to see how much Sweet Briar had changed over the years, she decided a walk would do her good.

Carmen had barely gone a block before she began to see changes. When she’d left, there’d been only a handful of businesses downtown. Of those, only Mabel’s Diner and Wilson’s Hardware Store had been thriving. Now there was a homemade candy shop, a dress store and Fit to Be Dyed, a cleverly named hair salon. There was even a pizza place. Oh, what the kids would have given to have a pizza joint to hang out in when she was a teen.

Sweet Briar was definitely prospering in this difficult economy. It took a visionary leader with a strong backbone to bring change to a community filled with people who’d been content to live in a slowly dying town. She’d read about some of the changes Mayor Devlin had made over the past year when Damon surprised her with a subscription to her hometown newspaper, but it was amazing to see it all in person.

She strolled the streets, inhaling the smog-free air. An unexpected contentment sneaked up on her and she found herself smiling. She crossed Main Street and stopped in front of a restaurant called Heaven on Earth. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything since the tea and muffin the owner of the B and B insisted she eat when she returned from the funeral. That was hours ago and she was starving.

She stepped inside and was greeted by a hostess who showed her to a table and handed her a menu. Carmen was glancing at it when the waitress appeared.

“Hi, I’m Joni and I’ll be your server.”

“Hi. What’s good?” Carmen asked, closing the menu.

“My brother, Brandon, is the chef and co-owner, so I have to tell you everything is good.”

Carmen smiled. “Is that true or just the safe answer?”

“Actually, everything is great. What kind of foods do you prefer? I’ll steer you to my favorites.”

“Well, I don’t eat beef, but I pretty much like anything else.”

“In that case, I recommend either the poached salmon fillets with watercress mayonnaise or the salmon bulgogi with bok choy and mushrooms. That’s my favorite. If you want chicken, Brandon makes a mean pan-roasted chicken with citrus sauce.”

“Everything sounds delicious. I’ll try the chicken. If it’s as good as you say, I’ll try the others before I leave town.”

As Joni promised, her meal was delicious.

When the waitress returned to take away her plate, Carmen praised the meal.

“I’ll be sure to give Brandon your compliment. I’ll have to wait until after closing because his head is so big that if he gets one more compliment it just might pop.”

Carmen grinned. Joni’s friendliness was just what she needed after the icy reception she’d received from her family.

“So what brings you to our humble town?”

“My mother’s funeral.”

Joni instantly sobered. “I’m sorry.”

Carmen swallowed. “Thanks.”

Joni studied Carmen for a minute. “Was your mother Rachel Shields?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. You resemble her. I met her when we moved here a few years back. She was a wonderful woman.”

“Thanks.”

Joni waited a bit before she spoke again, clearly giving Carmen time to get her emotions under control, which Carmen appreciated. “How long will you be in town?”

“I’m not sure. I planned on two weeks.” Carmen’s stomach instantly plummeted to her feet. What would she do if her family continued to ignore her overtures? She’d go bananas with nothing to do but brood.

“If you find yourself with time on your hands, or just need to get away from family for a while, I have the perfect suggestion for how to fill it.”

“I’m not a good waitress.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “You’re much too nice to subject to my brother. He may cook like an angel, but he is the devil to work for.”

Joni’s words were spoken with affection and Carmen felt the slightest twinge of envy at the obvious close relationship between Joni and her brother. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was going to suggest you volunteer at the youth center. You might have passed it on the way over here. It’s that huge gray building on the corner of Maple and Oak.”

She’d noticed it.

When she’d lived here, recreation for teens had been limited to the one-screen movie theater or the beach. The beach generally won. More often than not they had been unsupervised. Too often, alcohol had been involved. She was living proof of the problems that led to.

Carmen was thrilled someone had built the youth center. She would like to help guide kids who might otherwise be tempted to stray as she had. But she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Many people had been hurt by the accident and might blame her for their loss. Chief Knight certainly did. She didn’t know if anyone else felt that way, but she wouldn’t want any misdirected negative feelings to roll onto Joni.

Carmen sighed and bit back her disappointment. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?” Joni seemed sincerely perplexed. “I’m the director of the center and I’d appreciate any help you can give.”

Carmen lifted the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. “I’m Carmen Shields.”

Joni shrugged as if the name meant nothing to her.

“I was a passenger in the SUV that crashed into Chief Knight’s wife’s car seven years ago.”

“Oh.” Joni pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I don’t think he would want me to work with the kids. He’d probably consider me a bad influence, and other people might feel that way, too.” She tried to sound indifferent, but even to her own ears her pain was unmistakable.

“What happened?”

Carmen closed her eyes and sighed. The memory of that night was as vivid as though it happened yesterday. She could still hear the screams, the twisting of metal. “My friends were drunk. We were speeding and ran a stop sign, hitting another car.”

“You said you weren’t driving.”

“I wasn’t. But I should have been. I was sober.” But Donny wouldn’t give her his keys. Still, she’d hopped into the car, stupidly believing she could make him drive slowly.

Joni pondered that for a moment. “How old were you?”

“Eighteen.”

“You were young and stupid. Something all of us suffer from at one time or another.”

“That’s no excuse. Three people are dead.” The guilt she’d felt because of Donny’s and Jay’s deaths was nothing compared to knowing a perfectly innocent wife and mother had died, as well.

“I agree that’s tragic, but you weren’t driving. I don’t see how anyone could blame you.”

“Chief Knight does.” And her father blamed her for tarnishing the previously unblemished Shields name, ruining his plans for a political career. But not just that night. She’d begun pushing the boundaries of proper behavior long before then.

Joni reached across the table and clasped Carmen’s hand. “Chief Knight lost his wife. He needs someone to blame. Although why he chose you and not the driver is beyond me.”

“The driver died at the scene.” Carmen knew she may not have been legally responsible, but morally she had been wrong. “I could have tried harder to take the keys from Donny. But I’d been too busy trying to fit in. I’d finally gotten the cool kids to accept me and I wasn’t going to blow it by acting like someone’s nagging mother.”

“You can’t change the past. You can learn from it and try to make a difference today. Your past will give you credibility with the kids that no one else has.” Joni blinked. “Unless you’ll be busy with your family. You’ll only be here for a short while, so you’ll probably be spending a lot of time with them.”

“Not so much.” Unless her father had a change of heart, she’d remain the family pariah. Perhaps if he saw her doing something good, he’d realize she had changed and welcome her back into the family. And she truly did want to help. “Maybe you’re right. I’d love to work with the kids.”

“So is that a yes?”

Carmen smiled. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

“Do you have a preference of activities?”

“I’m an artist by profession. If you have art classes or projects, I could help out.”

“We have an art room, so that would be great.”

“Thanks.”

“What kind of artist are you?”

“I paint. I’ve loved drawing and painting all my life. I’ve been fortunate to sell some of my work.”

“Are you famous?” Joni grinned.

Carmen laughed. “Not hardly. At least not yet. I’ve been lucky.” When she first started out, Damon had used his contacts to get her work noticed. But as he repeatedly pointed out, she was the one who did the painting. People only bought what they liked. Fortunately, they liked her work.

“I’m not sure I believe that. If I Google your name, will I find out you’re a celebrity hiding among the little people?”

Carmen shook her head. “I paint using my first and middle names, Carmen Taylor.”

“Okay, then art it is. Of course, if you’d like a change of pace, you can always play basketball.”

Carmen started to protest, then relaxed when Joni laughed. “Just kidding.”

“Good, because I might be the only kid in the world who almost flunked high school gym.”

Her father had used his influence and she’d been allowed to join the swim team for her gym credit. She was so slow she never won any ribbons, but she had graduated, avoiding being the first Shields not to graduate high school since Emancipation.

“In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Carmen repeated, filled with anticipation.

Tomorrow was going to be a better day.

Chapter Five

“I’m not going.” Alyssa said, folding her arms over her chest. Still dressed in her pajamas, she walked around the peach-and-cream-striped chair that had been Anna’s favorite and sat on the coffee table. She glared at him defiantly, daring him to correct her.

Trent bit his tongue. He’d told Alyssa numerous times to sit on the sofa or chairs, or even the floor, but not the table. But he didn’t have time for yet another lecture that would do little to change her behavior. What ever happened to the sweet little girl who used to get up early just to have breakfast with him?

Deciding patience was in order, Trent inhaled deeply and slowly blew out a breath. “You can’t stay home alone all day.”

“Why not? I’m not a baby.”

He recognized that trick: go on the offense and make him defend his actions. Not today. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m fourteen.”

“I know.”

“So why can’t I stay home?”

He rubbed a hand over his freshly shaved chin. “Because I would prefer it if you didn’t. And I don’t understand why you want to stay home. You always have fun at the youth center. All of your friends will be there.”

Alyssa stood and jammed her hands on her hips. “I don’t have any friends, thanks to you.”

She stomped from the room, but he caught her arm as she reached the stairs. “What do you mean, you don’t have friends? Everybody likes you.”

Alyssa’s quiet and serious personality may not have made her the most popular kid, but her loyalty had earned her several true friends. She got along well with most of the other girls even if they weren’t especially close.

Alyssa had inherited her mother’s stunning good looks, as well as her willowy, long-legged build. Where she’d been gangly as a colt at twelve and even thirteen, she’d filled out over the past few months and now looked older than her age. To his dismay and definite discomfort, she was attracting the interest of boys who until recently hadn’t known she was alive.

“Everybody used to like me. But that was before.”

“Before what?”

She narrowed her eyes and shook off his hand. “Before you went and broke up that party at Olivia’s aunt and uncle’s house. You called everybody’s parents and got them in trouble. You even arrested Olivia’s cousin.”

“There was underage drinking. I couldn’t leave those kids there. And I definitely couldn’t let them drive home. I had to call their parents.” Alyssa didn’t know the specifics, but she knew her mother had been killed by a drunken teenager. Surely she understood the danger of underage drinking and driving.

“As for Olivia’s cousin, he was supplying alcohol to minors.” He was twenty-one and, from what Trent could see, had no plan for his life besides partying. He and his buddies had given several teenage girls enough alcohol to lower their inhibitions. God alone knew what could have happened to them if Trent hadn’t received an anonymous call about that party. The kids might have been angry, but there were plenty of grateful parents.

“Well, now they’re all mad at me.”

“Why?”

She gave him her patented you’re-so-stupid look that turned his stomach. “Because you’re my dad. They think I’m the one who told you about the party. Like I’m some sort of narc. They said if anybody is my friend or even talks to me, then they’re out. Nobody will talk to them, either, and they won’t get invited to any of the cool parties.”

Anger surged through Trent and he clenched his jaw to keep from swearing. Olivia’s aunt and uncle were among the wealthy residents who’d recently moved into a new development of oversize homes on a private golf course. Many of the newcomers didn’t believe the laws applied to them or their brats. If Trent could have his way, the entire subdivision would be razed and the owners sent back where they came from.

“How long has this been going on?”

Tears began to roll down Alyssa’s face, and it broke Trent’s heart. Her chin wobbled and her voice shook. “It started last week. Brooke still talked to me, but none of the other kids did. They wouldn’t even sit at the same lunch table with me. But school’s out now and Brooke’s spending the summer in Colorado with her father.”

“It’ll get better. You’ll see. Now go ahead and get dressed.” He tried to pull her into a hug, but she jerked away.

“You’re making me go? Even after what I told you? You don’t care about me or how I feel.” Her words, filled with both accusation and betrayal, were a knife plunged in his heart.

“Of course I care. But you can’t hide. You did nothing wrong. And your friends will come around. Just give them a chance.”

“They had a chance. They’re not my friends anymore. They hate me. And I hate you.” The knife twisted.

Trent stood frozen as Alyssa raced up the stairs. A moment later he heard her bedroom door slam. He leaned against the banister and sucked in a breath. Although he knew Alyssa’s words were spoken out of pain, they still hurt. He’d never imagined a child of his would say she hated him.

The argument echoing in his head, Trent returned to the living room. He opened the floral curtains Anna had chosen so many years ago, letting in the morning sunlight. Unfortunately, the light did nothing to brighten the gloom in his soul.

He dropped onto the sofa and closed his eyes. His sweet girl was being ostracized. Those brats should be glad he and his officers broke up the party, saving them from themselves. They might be too young to understand the danger they’d put themselves in, but they were old enough to know better than to make his daughter a scapegoat.

He heard the clatter of little feet running down the stairs and into the living room.

“I’m ready to go,” Robyn announced, flying into the room. Her brilliant smile warmed his heart and made breathing easier. “How do I look?”

He smothered a grin. His baby loved fashionable clothes. She looked adorable in white denim shorts with pink flowered appliqué on the pockets and a matching T-shirt. Even her gym shoes were pink. Alyssa had combed her hair and added flowered pink barrettes to her ponytails. Pink earrings completed her ensemble. “You look like the cover of a magazine.”

Robyn grinned and gave him a big hug.

Five minutes later Alyssa returned, dressed in a short denim skirt and orange tank top. Although he wished she had chosen something different, he bit his tongue. Fighting over her clothes only increased the tension between them.

Robyn chattered happily on the short drive to the center, filling the silence between Alyssa and Trent. As he pulled into a parking spot, he received a call from the dispatcher. Trent spoke briefly into his radio before hustling the girls from the car.

A semitrailer had collided with an SUV on the highway leading into town, setting off a chain reaction involving at least seven vehicles. He didn’t know what the truck was carrying, but the driver had lost his load. Worse, there were reports of injuries, some life-threatening.

“I have an emergency, so I won’t be able to get you girls settled,” Trent said apologetically as he signed them in. The gray-haired woman seated behind the reception desk assured him she would get his daughters into their proper groups.

“I’ll pick you up at four,” Trent promised. He kissed Robyn’s cheek, then stepped back. He’d learned from painful experience not to show affection to Alyssa in public.

“Bye, Daddy,” Robyn exclaimed, then hurried off to join a group of girls her age.

Alyssa simply stood with her eyes downcast, her arms across her chest. She heaved a sigh and turned her back to him. He wished he could say something to make her feel better, but nothing came to mind. Besides, he needed to get to the scene of the accident.

The grandmotherly woman caught his eye and nodded. “Go ahead and leave, Chief. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she gets in with a group of kids.”

Having no choice, Trent took one last look at Alyssa, who was now staring out the window, and trotted out the door to his vehicle. He hoped he was right and that her friends would welcome her again.

* * *

Carmen put the finishing touches on her art project, then stepped back to get a final look at it. Not bad considering she hadn’t sculpted anything in years. She hadn’t known what type of material she would find, so she’d planned a variety of projects to interest kids of all ages. She’d been pleasantly surprised by the supplies at the center.

As expected, there was paint, brushes and paper. But there also was clay, string, foil, beads and other items needed to make jewelry.

She heard a knock on the open door. “You open for business?”

Carmen smiled at Joni and looked down at the little girls clustered around her. “You bet. Come on in.”

“I’ve got four budding artists for you. Mia and Maya are twins. This is Juliet. And finally Robyn. They’re really excited to do crafts with you.”

Carmen managed to hide her shock at seeing the chief’s daughter again so soon. Given his dislike of Carmen, she couldn’t imagine he would want her near his child. She wondered how long it would be before news of her volunteering at the center reached his ears. This being Sweet Briar, she bet it would be under forty-eight hours.

“I remember you. We saw you at the cemetery. I’m Robyn.”

“I remember you, too. You look so cute today.” The young girl giggled and preened while Carmen quickly complimented the other girls so they wouldn’t feel left out. And they did look adorable in their short sets and eager smiles. “Are you ready to have fun?”

“Yes,” they answered loudly.

“Well, then, let’s get started.” After each girl had chosen a bright smock from the rainbow selection hanging on hooks by the door, she led them to a table where supplies were arranged. She grabbed a hunk of clay and kneaded it while explaining the project. She then stepped back as the girls charged toward the table. Well, three of the girls charged. Robyn held back.

“Is everything okay?”

Robyn shook her head. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay,” Carmen said, giving an encouraging smile. “Just jump right in. Art is supposed to be fun.”

Robyn gnawed on her bottom lip. “What if I do it wrong?”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s art. There is no right or wrong.”

“Everything has a right or wrong. The only people who don’t believe that are the ones doing wrong.”

Wow. Carmen was surprised to hear such judgmental words coming out of the mouth of one so young and innocent. She had no doubt Robyn was parroting what she heard regularly, just as she’d done at the cemetery. “That may be true in some things, but trust me, there is no way for you to get this art project wrong. Whatever you do will be beautiful.”

“What if I mess it up?”

Carmen had not expected to have to counsel kids. If she’d known it would be this hard to get a kid to use clay, string and paint, she might have taken her chances with the boys currently engaged in a raucous game of basketball. But she needed to reach this child. She’d grown up with pressure to live up to the Shields name and had cracked big-time. If she could help this girl avoid the same fate, it might be worth what she’d endured.

She knelt down so that she and Robyn were eye to eye and took the little girl’s hands. “If you mess it up, we can fix it. That’s the beautiful thing about art. You can work around the mistakes so that they look intentional.”

“I don’t know.” The little girl looked longingly at the table where her friends were elbow-deep in clay. Someone had knocked over a plastic cup of yellow paint, and a saturated paper towel lay forgotten in the middle of the puddle. Apparently, Robyn’s friends didn’t share her fear of making mistakes. And they definitely had no interest in cleaning up their messes.

“Well, I do. Let’s get you started on your flower.” Carmen pinched off a bit of clay and handed it to Robyn, giving the girl an encouraging smile. She then grabbed a hunk of clay for herself and began working it. After a brief hesitation, Robyn grabbed her clay and started to pound it into shape.

“Like this?” she asked, her little hands kneading the clay.

“Just like that.” Carmen offered the child a rolling pin. “Make it flat. It’ll be easier for you to shape.”

Robyn’s brow wrinkled in concentration as she worked. A few minutes later she grinned. “It’s working.”

“Yes, it is.”

“This is fun,” she said, giggling.

“I knew you could do it.”

Carmen circled the room, checking the progress of the other budding artists and helping newcomers get started. She gave a word of encouragement here and there, but for the most part, she stood back and let the kids create their masterpieces without interfering. The noise level stayed at a steady murmur punctuated by bursts of laughter. Although Carmen chatted with the other children, her attention never strayed far from Robyn.

The kids’ enthusiasm was contagious and ideas began bubbling inside her. Most of the kids in her room were grammar school age. But she really wanted to attract the older crowd. And she had just the thing to do so.

Joni had given her what she’d called the ten-cent tour that morning. The center was equipped with everything from a computer lab to a gym with a full-size basketball court, and a six-lane pool. Although all the walls were clean and painted bright colors, the decor was unimaginative.

Carmen had offered to design a mural for each of the rooms and one big one for the exterior of the building. Joni had quickly accepted. Carmen would have a better chance of getting older teens involved in art if they worked on something more exciting than the Popsicle sticks and spray-painted macaroni the six-year-olds loved. Murals would definitely do the trick.

She made her way back to Robyn, who was frowning at her project. The little girl noticed Carmen and her bottom lip trembled. She swiped at her eyes. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“It’s not ruined. We can fix it. And if not, you can make another one.”

“I don’t know. Daddy always says to do it right the first time because life doesn’t give you a do-over.”

“That’s true in a lot of things, but not art.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s not what Daddy says and my daddy is smart.”

“I’m positive. I’m sure your daddy wasn’t talking about art. He’s not an artist, too, is he?”

Robyn shook her head. “He’s a policeman.”

“Right. So he probably doesn’t use paint and clay at work.”

Robyn giggled. “That would be silly.”

“It certainly would. Policemen know about criminals breaking the law and looking for excuses to escape punishment.”

Robyn nodded. “I heard him tell Officer Roberts that Peter Richards keeps making messes for his parents to clean up. Daddy said one day Peter’s going to make a mess no one can fix. He said Peter’s parents should stop making excuses for him. Daddy said Peter—”

Carmen raised her hand and the little girl stopped her recitation of overheard and misunderstood conversation. “I think your daddy was talking about criminals and not art. And he certainly didn’t mean you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.” Robyn smiled, her eyes bright with hope.

Carmen took the blob of paint and string and clay from the little girl and turned it this way and that, studying it from all angles. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be. It didn’t look a thing like her sample. Of course, she couldn’t admit that or Robyn would be crushed.

“I think we can totally make this work. If you’re willing.”

Robyn nodded.

“Then let’s get busy.”

Twenty minutes later, Robyn stared at her project with what could be described only as awed disbelief. “Did I really make that?”

“You did. All by yourself.” If Robyn hadn’t been so insecure, Carmen would have trashed the first project and started from scratch. Instead, after diagnosing the problem, she had quickly returned the clay to the child’s hands. Although Carmen added instruction and encouragement, she made sure that Robyn did all the work. Now the glow of pride on the child’s face was truly earned.

“I can’t wait to show it to Daddy. He’s going to love it.”

“He will. Now let’s let it dry for a while.”

The little girl started out the door. She hesitated, then ran back, giving Carmen a tight hug. The feel of the little girl’s arms warmed Carmen’s heart. She could start to care for this motherless child quite easily. And wouldn’t that be a mess no amount of paper towels could clean up.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.