Finding The Road Home. Tina Radcliffe
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Название: Finding The Road Home
Автор: Tina Radcliffe
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
isbn: 9780008906245
isbn:
“Yeah, I figured.” He grabbed several plastic bags from the back of the vehicle and placed them inside a litter box before he closed the rear window and liftgate of the Tahoe.
“You did?” She blinked, somewhat confused.
Mitch nodded “I don’t want to get into your business, but I’ve been where you are. Not exactly, but close enough.”
“Oh?”
“Trust me, Rebel will be there for you. I can guarantee that.”
She stared at him, uncertain of what to say. While a part of her scoffed at the idea that anyone could possibly understand what she was going through, there was something about Mitch Rainbolt that said he was sincere.
“Cats aside, this town has a lot to offer kids...families.” He paused, seeming to hesitate at his next words. “The Rebel Community Church has a week of vacation Bible school coming up soon. The town has a Fourth of July parade and festival. Later in July, the Rebel Ranch has a kids’ fishing derby.”
“Sounds like a great way to get city kids involved and feeling like this is home.”
“True. The Weekly Rebel, our local paper, has a calendar of events.”
“Thank you.”
He lifted a bag in each hand. “This bag has wet food, and this one is full of supplies and a few toys.”
“Thank you, again. I’m a bit overwhelmed by your generosity.”
“Don’t give me too much credit. This is all Tucker.”
“Tucker?”
“My brother the vet.” He looked at her. “You’ve got five kids here, and you keep thanking me. Are you really okay with adding two more to your bunch?”
“Don’t even think about taking them back. This is the best thing that’s happened to these kids in months.”
He was silent for a half beat before his questioning gaze met hers. “Mind my asking how they lost their parents?”
“Car accident. My brother-in-law lost control.” She took a deep breath. “Fortunately, the kids weren’t with them.”
A flash of pain crossed Mitch’s face, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry for your loss, though I’m glad you and your family found your way here. This town has a way of healing the soul. I’ll be praying for you and these kids.”
Praying? Daisy blinked back emotion. Mitch Rainbolt was nothing like she expected. The interview had not prepared her for the man in real life. She dared to glance at his left hand. No ring. Which, of course, meant nothing. And really, why was she looking? No man in his right mind would be interested in a woman with five kids.
Just the same, she knew without a doubt that her new boss was dangerous to her peace of mind, and she hadn’t even started work yet.
The voices of reason were carrying on a fine discussion in Mitch’s head Monday morning regarding the fact that he’d brought Daisy Anderson mousers. What was he thinking? The simple act bordered on personal, and he didn’t do personal.
As he dumped water into the office coffeemaker, he rationalized the gesture as simply being neighborly. Mitch was the police chief. He’d have done the same for anyone new to town. Especially someone who was going to be working for him.
The internal conversation was still going on when at 6:30 a.m. the coffeemaker spit and hissed the last drops of a fresh brew into the carafe and the buzzer to the employee entrance of the station sounded. Mitch checked the peephole and let Daisy in.
Points for his new hire. She was early for her day shift.
He gave a mental nod of approval. Everything about the woman said professional. Although she was dressed in black slacks and a tidy white blouse, with her wild hair pulled back into a twist on the back of her head, he was still unable to avoid noticing how nice she looked. And awake. As if she’d been up for hours. With five kids, one being a baby, he supposed she probably had been.
“Morning, Officer Anderson.”
“Good morning,” she said, glancing around the small police department office. “Sorry. I don’t have my security badge yet.” She inhaled deeply. “Smells wonderful.”
He poured coffee into his favorite mug and nodded toward the pot and a stack of paper cups. “Help yourself to Rebel Roast. We have our own roasters in town. A pop-up shop that’s here from May through September. Oh, and Henna will be here any minute with donuts.”
“The desk officer?” Daisy’s eye narrowed a fraction as if to ask, Seriously?
“Yeah. Her parents own the only donut shop in Rebel. Popular enough to be in business year-round. It would be an insult if I refused Eagle Donuts.” Mitch shrugged. “Besides, she only brings them in on Mondays, and they’re the best donuts in the county.”
“Get ’em while they’re hot.” Henna pushed open the door and caught it with her hip while balancing a small bakery box on top of a large one. Dressed in a departmental gray uniform, her straight, black hair was trimmed to skim her chin. A wide, generous smile graced her face.
When both Mitch and Daisy stepped forward quickly to catch the door for her, Mitch’s hand covered Daisy’s.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“Thank you. Daisy, right?” Henna said with a welcoming smile. “Henrietta Eagle. But I go by Henna for obvious reasons.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daisy said. “Thanks for all the help you’ve provided getting my paperwork squared away.”
“My pleasure. Great to meet you in person. I’ve got your uniforms in the back room, and your security badge and a few other things at my desk.” The boxes wobbled. “Can you grab that top one?”
“Got it,” Daisy said.
“That’s for you to take home to your kids,” Henna said.
Daisy’s eyes rounded. “How did you know? I mean, about the kids.”
“My sister works at the elementary school. Unlike me, she can’t keep her mouth closed. I heard you registered three of them for school and one for preschool in the fall.”
“Yes, but it’s not a secret or anything,” Daisy said with a smile. She opened the box and looked inside. “Donut holes. Thank you.”
“Welcome to Rebel,” Henna said.
Mitch silently observed the interaction. He’d known from the first interview that Daisy would fit right in. Then again, Henna got along with everyone. The last hurdle would be introducing her to his curmudgeon deputy. He glanced at the clock. Who was running late, per usual.
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