“You’d love it if I just walked out
of here, wouldn’t you?”
Alex demanded.

“Well, get used to having me around, Holly. If you’ll let me have your living-room couch, I’ll take that. No matter how much you protest, I’m not going away until Rico is caught.”

The light in Alex’s eyes told her that he meant every word of what he said. “Don’t get too comfortable on that couch, Wilkins. Because you are spending one night, and one night only, there. Nothing you say will make me happy until you say goodbye.” Holly was pretty sure that was the truth.

So why did it feel as if he was the cavalry riding up to rescue her? She didn’t need rescuing from anything, did she? Most of her said no, but there was a sliver of common sense that told her that yes, she needed rescuing in ways that only Alex could provide.

Safe Harbor—the town where everyone finds shelter from the storm.

LYNN BULOCK

lives in Thousand Oaks, California, with her husband and two sons, a dog and a cat. She has been telling stories since she could talk and writing them down since fourth grade. She is the author of nineteen contemporary romance novels.

The Harbor of His Arms
Lynn Bulock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

But those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength. They will soar on wings

like eagles; they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.

—Isaiah 40:31

To Joe, my harbor in life’s storms

for over a quarter century. Here’s to another

twenty-five years and more.

Contents

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

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

“I owe you big time for this one. Thanks again, Felicity.” Holly Douglas slipped into her down jacket as she headed for the back door of The Bistro. Normally she looked forward to every hour she put in at the upscale restaurant where they both worked, but today she needed the break that Felicity’s offer to cover for her provided.

Her fellow server tossed her mop of honey curls and rolled her eyes. “Oh, get a grip, Holly. I’m not giving blood or anything. Just covering the lunch shift for you on a pretty calm Wednesday. I know you’ll pick up for me the next time the school calls and Jazz is sick. As usual.” Holly recognized Felicity’s expression. It was common to mothers of small children. They both knew that it wasn’t a question of “if” the Safe Harbor Elementary would phone telling her mother that Jasmine Smith was ill. It was only a question of “when.”

“Once you put it that way, it sounds better,” Holly agreed. “But I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it sounds to go to this meeting today.”

It was hard to put into words what the Safe Harbor Women’s League meant to her. It was especially hard to tell Felicity, who was probably the only woman in town more independent than Holly. But this was the place where Holly drew the line on independence. She might not take charity from the Women’s League, but the company of other understanding women was something she craved once in a while.

She looked out one of the wide windows of The Bistro. “Hope the snow holds off for a while longer. I didn’t wear my boots.”

“And of course you’re walking over to the lighthouse.” Felicity shook her head again. “Tell me you at least have a hat.”

“And gloves. What do you think I am, nuts?” January in Wisconsin was not the time for foolhardy behavior.

Felicity pressed her lips together. “Okay, I’ll try to stop mothering you. Make sure you’re back by six, okay? Jon-Paul says it’s going to be a busy night. Although how he knows this early, I have no idea.”

Holly wasn’t about to argue with her boss, the owner and head chef of The Bistro. Not on what nights would be busy and which ones slack. “He’s good at predicting that. I’ll be sure to get here on time.”

The light gust of wind that caught her in the parking lot made Holly’s cheeks tingle. Surely it was too cold for Safe Harbor to get the snow they’d predicted this morning. At least, she was pretty sure the Green Bay radio station had said snow this far north. It was hard to hear with Conor banging drawers and Aidan howling because he couldn’t find his blue toothbrush. Her boys could drown out any radio station on a good day, and this morning hadn’t started off to be a good day anyway.

It was mornings like this one that she missed Kevin the most. He hadn’t been home every moment when the guys were little, but when he’d been there, he’d been so good with them. Now that they were older and rowdier, it was hard not to resent the fact that she was raising them alone.

Holly tried to find a path to the lighthouse that moved her out of the way of the wind. And while she was at it she tried to put those useless thoughts of Kevin out of her mind. He was gone, and there was no changing the situation. Just like walking into the wind, she had to set her shoulders and brace for the worst.

Opening the heavy wooden door to the community meeting room at the base of the lighthouse took some effort. But the effort was worth the reward as warmth surrounded Holly in more ways than one. All over the entryway to the large, sunny room there were women chatting, shedding coats, hugging each other. Wendy Maguire must have said something interesting over in the corner where she was talking with Elizabeth Neal. The older woman burst out with a laugh and a hug for the younger Wendy.

Holly didn’t have much time to contemplate what was going on in the various corners. She was a little late, as usual. There was just enough time to hang up her coat, pour a warming mug of coffee from the pot set off to one side on a long, narrow wooden table, and find a seat before the Women’s League president, Constance Laughlin, got down to business.

“All right, I’ve let you all gossip on long enough. Who had devotions this morning?” Constance asked. Her stern-sounding words were belied by the expression in her sparkling blue eyes. Her brow wrinkled in confusion when her question brought laughter from the group. “Please, fill me in on the joke.”

Elizabeth Neal was the only one brave enough to speak. “I hate to tell you, Madame President, but last time you volunteered yourself for devotions. To kick off the year and take the burden off anyone else, I believe you said.”

Constance blushed a little, covering her face with her hands. “I believe you’re right. How on earth could I have forgotten that?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Constance. I imagine you’ve hardly had time to get back to normal again since the girls went back home after the holidays.”

“This is true. It’s really different to get a solid night’s sleep again. Joey was teething the whole time Cara and David were here.” Her slightly pained expression reminded Holly that she wasn’t the only one with troubles. Constance’s grandson Joey was named for a grandfather he would never know, since Joseph Laughlin had disappeared years before on a mission trip.

Constance had finished raising their two girls alone and had even started the Safe Harbor Women’s League so that other women wouldn’t have to go through the kind of pain she had alone. “It’s so quiet in the house now that they’re all back in Chicago again. I suppose I could say something using Psalm forty-six.” There was muted laughter around the room among those who knew their Bible well enough to know that Constance was referring to a verse that admonished them all to “be still and know that I am God.”

Holly found herself nodding in agreement. It wasn’t often she had a moment to herself to be still even for the best of reasons, and she imagined it was the same for most of the women in the room. She was sure that managing two small kids way out on the edge of town kept Wendy Maguire busy, especially when her husband, Robert, was on call at the hospital. Annie Simmons didn’t have family to tug her in different directions, but she didn’t have a family to help out either, as she struggled to raise a child and at the same time open the building next door to the lighthouse as a bed-and-breakfast.

Even Elizabeth, retired as the town postmistress, didn’t seem to stay still long enough for much. Every time Holly looked around she was heading some committee or other at First Peninsula Church. And that didn’t begin to touch her work with the Harvest Festival every fall and the untold batches of brownies and pots of soup that seemed to pour out of her kitchen for anybody that needed them.

No, this group of women wasn’t much for being still, Holly reflected. Perhaps it was why she felt so very at home here. There seemed precious little time for her to be still these days, and she despaired of knowing when there would be such a time in the future. She couldn’t imagine one. Not with two active boys to raise and a life to hold together alone. It certainly wasn’t what she’d planned or envisioned when she married Kevin.

He’d been in the police academy when they met, and on the force in Chicago by the time they married. So there had always been the haunting thought in the back of her mind that something could happen. Kevin always said that went with the territory. He tried to ease her fears as much as possible. In the end it hadn’t done any good, because the worst had happened. Holly shook away her dire thoughts and tried to pay attention to what Constance was saying at the lectern.

She seemed to be calling for reports from the other officers of the Women’s League. Wendy joined her with a large smile on her face. “I’m happy to report that all the different accounts in the treasury balance, so I’m making my final report as treasurer with a clean slate. Elizabeth, you should be able to understand all my entries and see where everything went. I even tracked down that missing $2.98 in the hospitality fund, so you won’t have that plaguing you when you take office.”

“Great,” Elizabeth called from the front row of chairs. “Should I make a motion to accept your final report as written?”

“Please do. I have one more announcement before I end my term as treasurer.” Wendy seemed to be a little flushed. “It seems that this term handling the financial records of the organization strengthened my math skills. At least in the area of addition.”

Holly wondered if what Wendy was hinting about was actually true. She was saved from asking anything by Wendy volunteering the information. “It appears Robert and I are going to have another baby. According to my husband’s medical expertise, there’s going to be a fifth Maguire some time in July.”

There were congratulations and applause around the room. Holly wondered if she was a terrible person for her strong but mixed feelings. Wendy’s announcement made a wave of jealousy wash over her at the thought of the other woman, not that much older than she, who had the luxury of an intact home and a loving husband and a brand-new baby on the way. But at the same time she had to acknowledge the equally strong wave of relief that swept her, as well. Relief that it was someone else dealing with the rigors of pregnancy while also dealing with the daily life of a household and small children.

Any thought of the business meeting continuing evaporated for a while as everybody surrounded Wendy, talking about the days to come and asking her questions. So far she seemed healthy, she told them, and Robert seemed confident that she could look forward to a normal pregnancy and birth. “As normal as it gets when you’re thirty-four and are chasing two little people.”

“Make sure he takes some time off and gives you plenty of help,” Elizabeth admonished. “Healthy or not, it won’t be easy in your situation.”

“I’ve been talking to him about that. And he may even be listening,” Wendy said, her grin making the freckles spanning her cheeks dance. “Ask me in another week or two and I might have news on that front, too.”

Elizabeth nodded in approval. “I hope that means that your overworked husband might actually be getting help for himself. Heaven knows it’s overdue.”

Constance started rapping the gavel, which no one ever paid any attention to, on the polished cherry lectern in front of her. “All right, maybe we can get back to business. Or at least let Wendy sit down and put her feet up so we don’t tax her in her delicate condition.”

Wendy looked as if she was threatening to stick out her tongue at Constance’s suggestion. “I’m about as delicate as a plow horse, according to Robert. But I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a while. Who else do we have to hear from?”

The business portion of the meeting went on for a while, and Constance got the group to stick to topic almost enough to have lunch on time. Still, it was nearly two by the time Holly was putting on her coat and getting ready to walk back to the parking lot of The Bistro to get her car and head for the grade school to pick up the boys.

That round of activity, ending with mounting the latest finger-painted treasures on the refrigerator in the apartment, took a solid hour. By three-fifteen Holly was fixing a snack for the impatient boys while they told her about their day.

They were both talking at once, sometimes finishing each other’s sentences, sometimes vaulting off in totally different directions in two conversations. It never seemed to bother them. Trying to sort it all out, Holly wished she had some background with twins to help cope with her wild boys.

Aidan, slightly the taller of the two, who’d inherited more of Kevin’s ruddy complexion and whose dark hair bore a distinctly reddish cast, was regaling her with things that had gone on during their outside recess after lunch. “And there were icicles hanging on the building, and Mrs. Baker said, ‘Don’t go over there,’ so nobody did, which is good because when the sun came out one of them fell down crash! And it broke into about a million pieces, Mom.”

“It was loud and it sparkled.” Conor’s observation was simpler and quieter, like Conor. Slightly shorter than his brother, and without the expansive gestures of his twin, Conor always seemed to think for a moment or two longer before he spoke. He let Aidan take the lead if anything physical needed to be done, but Holly noticed that in areas where words were needed, Aidan let Conor do the talking.

“But no one was hurt, right?” Holly was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she also knew what was important to both of her boys. They were both sensitive to the pain of others, and even the threat of anger or bloodshed disturbed them. They had been nowhere near their father’s death, and too young to understand it, probably, if they had been, but still they’d absorbed something of the trauma of the adults around them. Holly felt as if she dealt every day with a little bit of that impact life had had on her boys.

“Nobody was hurt. Because we all listened to the teacher.” Aidan puffed out his chest, as proud of his class and their actions as if he’d had something to do with everyone doing the right thing.

“Good,” his mother said, ruffling his soft hair. “You keep listening to her, understand?”

“Okay. Can we have peanut butter on crackers?” Conor was finished with the events of the day and was ready to move on to something more important, like the state of his stomach.

Before she knew it, the boy’s favorite baby-sitter was at the door and Holly needed to finish getting ready for work.

She gave Brett the instructions he needed and kissed the boys goodbye. It did her heart good to see that they barely noticed she was leaving.

Even in the snow that had started to fall it didn’t take long to get from the apartment complex to The Bistro. Holly could see that Jon-Paul had been right in his predictions. It was still a little before six, and there were already a good number of cars in the lot.

“All right! Even five minutes early,” Felicity crowed. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

Holly scrunched up her nose. “I’m not that predictably late, am I? Don’t answer that.” The grin on Felicity’s face answered for her.

They went over the evening’s specials together and Jon-Paul filled her in on the few changes he’d made during preparation of the night’s featured dishes. Felicity’s hand was on the swinging door between the kitchen and the dining room when she turned back to look at Holly. “I almost forgot—you already have one customer. A fairly good-looking younger guy came in alone and asked specifically for one of your tables. He said he’d wait for you no matter when you showed up.”

“That’s odd. I can’t imagine who that would be.”

“No old flames or anything?”

“Not a clue.” Holly couldn’t even think of anybody who knew she was in Safe Harbor, Wisconsin, who fit Felicity’s description. A growing dread told her that anyone looking for her here couldn’t mean good things. She tried to push the feeling away and listen to what Felicity was saying about the stranger.

“He asked for coffee, and I’ve refilled it once. But otherwise he said he’d wait for you.” Felicity went out to check on her own tables, and Holly got ready for her mystery customer and the rest of the evening rush. She looked at the specials board again, trying to commit everything to memory.

The swinging door whooshed behind her as she entered the dining room. The inside of The Bistro looked like the perfect place to be on a wintry night like this. The fire in the big brick fireplace cast a cozy glow on the big dining room. Surely no place this welcoming and cozy could hold danger.

At the corner table in “her” section, a man sat with his back to her, and his back to the fire. Holly didn’t recognize him right away from his back view, with his neatly cut sandy-brown hair and nondescript jacket.

“Hi, welcome to The Bistro. My name is Holly and I’ll be your server this evening. Would you like to hear our specials?” She got the whole spiel out before she made eye contact with the stranger and her world collapsed in a split second.

Chapter Two

“You don’t look glad to see me.” Alex Wilkins figured that was the understatement of the century. Holly Douglas looked horrified. She had barely kept from dropping the leatherette case holding her order pad, and the pen she had grasped in her other hand slid to the floor.

He almost wished her dark hair hadn’t been swept back away from her face. Maybe if she’d had the luxury of letting it cover her flushed cheeks she could have pretended to be more glad to see him. Even that was doubtful.

Sitting in the cushy booth in this romantic restaurant, reducing a woman to tears by his very presence, Alex decided he definitely hated his job. Nobody was ever glad to see him. It was like being a dentist who only did root canals. No, they all knew it was bad news or an arrest warrant when he was there. Even his own superiors weren’t that happy to see him most days. Since as one of their lead investigators they handed him only the complicated stuff, they were usually in foul moods even before he got to them.

“You’re right. I’m not glad to see you.” Holly’s soft voice, choked with emotion, broke into his thoughts. “This can’t be a social call. Nobody drives over sixty miles in January just to visit in this neck of the woods.”

“Sounds like you’re fitting in with the locals real well. Wish I could tell you that a social call was all I was here for. I’d love to be able to say I made this drive just to check up on you.” Alex watched her face while he spoke to her.

The woman might have been married to a cop, but she hadn’t picked up a cop’s habits. She still wore her emotions for all to see. Including that flutter of hope when she thought for a split second that seeing him didn’t mean more bad news.

“Of course you didn’t. That would make my life too easy. And life right now is never easy.” Holly snapped open that order pad again. “But you better be on the county’s expense account, because I can’t stand here and chat all night with somebody who’s not ordering dinner.”

“Steak. Medium rare. With a baked potato—none of that trendy garlic-mashed, goat cheese stuff.” That got the first ghost of a smile out of her he’d seen. “And a salad, if it’s going to be made up of things I can recognize.”

“For you, I’ll have Jon-Paul put together his famous NWS special.”

“Okay, you have me interested. What’s that?”

This time the smile flashed into an honest grin, and Alex was reminded that Holly Douglas was a young woman, not even thirty. Only the care and trouble of the past few years had dimmed the natural beauty in the planes of her face. “The No Weed Salad. A nice chunk of iceberg flat on a plate with Thousand Island dressing.”

“Make it blue cheese and you have a deal.”

“Will do. And Alex? I have plenty to do for the next three hours. So don’t expect any more attention than the rest of my customers.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a good tipper, even when the county isn’t paying. And things are mostly okay, Holly. I just have a little news you’re not going to want to hear. It will keep until you get done with your shift.”

She looked visibly relieved. Alex felt bad for a split second for trivializing what he’d been sent here to tell her. Holly wouldn’t look that happy again for quite some time once she heard what he had to say. Still, there was no sense upsetting her when she had work to do. Having another three hours of blissful ignorance of the latest happenings in Cook County, Illinois, wouldn’t change Holly’s life in the long run. And it would give Alex a little more time to figure out how to break the news that this new life they’d set up for her might all be tumbling down.

While he thought about what he was going to say, Alex scanned the large room that made up the main dining area of The Bistro. He wondered how Holly went to work here every day. The place was designed for couples to sit at the tufted leather booths, leaning over flickering candlelight. At some of the larger tables there were family groups, or bunches of friends, all of whom would have reminded him on a daily basis of what he was missing as a single adult. And Holly wasn’t single by choice.

Kevin Douglas should still be doing his job on the force, coming home at night to his pretty wife and active kids. They had twins, didn’t they? It was what Alex remembered, and he struggled to recall how old the boys would be now. Old enough to realize that their daddy wasn’t coming back, that was for sure. And old enough to realize something was up when he came home with their mother tonight. Alex hoped they’d be tucked into bed before he went home with Holly. That way there would be one less scene in the course of the evening.

“Tell Jon-Paul that his salad was superb. Almost as good as his steak,” Alex said two hours later as he stretched his legs out under the table.

“I will. Does all this praise mean you don’t have any room for a piece of apple pie?”

“Nobody ever said that. Think you could swing a scoop of ice cream on top, too?”

“Sure. We even have homemade cinnamon ice cream. I know it’s not the traditional vanilla, but you have to let Jon-Paul have his flourish someplace, don’t you? He gets cranky if all his artful touches are denied.”

“Cinnamon ice cream I can handle. Especially after he went to all the trouble to make the rest of the meal as fuss free as possible.”

“Coffee? For most folks I’d suggest decaf this late at night, but I don’t suppose you’re interested.”

“High-test or nothing,” Alex informed her. “And yes, I’d take a cup. Please.” His manners were awful. Maybe he just wasn’t used to dining anywhere as pleasant as The Bistro. He’d better get used to it, he thought. It was probably going to be his home away from home for a few days, or maybe even weeks.

Holly came back with the pie and coffee, setting them down in front of him. “Okay, the worst of the rush is over. I need to know what this visit is all about.”

His heart sank. She looked so happy. But he couldn’t put his news off much longer. It would be nice to try, though. “How about I tell you at home?”

Her look went from serious to stern. “I don’t remember inviting you home with me.”

Here it went. There was no putting things off any longer. “When I’m done talking, I’ll be inviting myself home if you don’t do it. Our friend Rico Salazar is out on the street. A combination of a good lawyer and a bad ruling. By the time we could convince the judge that he really, really shouldn’t be released no matter what the bail, he’d slipped through our fingers.”

He watched Holly’s face pale to the color of the walls around him at the knowledge that her husband’s killer was free. Lower lip trembling, she fled, leaving him to contemplate his melting ice cream and cooling coffee. His appetite for either wasn’t very high right now.

Before he could decide what to do, the young woman who had seated him when he came in was standing before him, and she looked very angry. “All right, what did you say to her? Holly’s crying. And Holly never cries. Even the night when we got the whole table of jerks from Milwaukee, who had too much to drink, Holly didn’t cry. Not even when Jon-Paul threw them all out personally after they said those mean things to her. So what did you do?” His accuser waved a long finger in his face, curls bouncing around her glowing face. What could he tell this baby virago?

She wasn’t going to take silence as an answer. Wild curls still bouncing, foot tapping in impatience, she stayed planted right in front of him. “Well? You looked okay, and I was glad to see somebody that Holly knew for a change, but I’m beginning to change my mind. Should I have Jon-Paul out here? He played pro ball for a little while before he opened the restaurant. Does all the bouncer work around here himself.” She narrowed her eyes in determination, and Alex knew he had to talk fast.

“No, really, things aren’t that bad. I had to give Holly a bit of bad news. But I’m on her side, honest.”

“It sure didn’t look that way when she came back in the kitchen just now.” This young woman still needed some convincing. “She looked upset. And like I said before, she never gets that upset over anything.”

“Felicity? Are you looking out for me?” A trembly voice came from behind Alex’s tormentor. “That is so sweet, but really I’m okay. And Alex is all right. Just barely, but it isn’t his fault that I’m acting like this.” Felicity turned toward Holly and put her hands on Holly’s shoulders.

“You sure? Because we can have Jon-Paul take care of him.” Her tone of voice told Alex it would be no trouble, either. He made a mental note to stay on this young woman’s good side whenever possible.

“I’m sure. And he’s more dangerous than he looks, Felicity. But at least he’s one of the good guys. He used to work with my husband, and he’s here to look after me.”

Alex was surprised to hear Holly admit to that much. He was pretty sure that nobody in this little Wisconsin town knew much about Holly’s past. With every word she spoke she looked more composed. She used one slender hand to push an escaped lock of her dark hair away from her face, and perhaps remove the last traces of tears from her cheek. “Besides, Alex won’t be a problem for much longer. I’m back out here to thank him for his concern and send him back to Chicago where he belongs.”

So that was what she was up to. Well, Holly Douglas had more than one surprise coming tonight. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Holly. But maybe we can discuss it in a less public environment. We’ll have the time, because I’m not leaving town before our mutual friend is back in police custody.”

Alex didn’t know which expression he liked least on the lovely faces in front of him. From his limited experience he would have said Felicity would be more trouble in the short run, with her amazement and anger blending. However, he’d known Holly quite a bit longer, and so knew her a little bit better. And he knew just enough to tell that in the long run, the look of determination narrowing her eyes and drawing tight lines in her face was going to mean much more trouble for him.

It was going to be a long night. He prayed it wasn’t going to be the first of quite a few. Maybe luck would be on his side for a change and they’d have Rico back in the fold soon. Right. And maybe they’d solve all the world’s problems while they were at it and he could get a great job teaching third grade because nobody would need the services of a cop with a law degree anymore.

Meanwhile he was stuck here in Safe Harbor, Wisconsin, with a woman who didn’t want to be looked after, a cold cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie floating in melted ice cream. As he’d said before, it was going to be a long night.

So what could she do with this guy? Holly paced the kitchen of The Bistro, trying to decide how to gather her thoughts, and what to tell her boss and Felicity. They had both been so kind to her for all these months. They deserved some kind of explanation for her behavior. They also deserved some more information about what the slightly menacing-looking stranger was doing in the dining room. She hadn’t thought of Alex Wilkins in a long while before tonight, and had never looked at him with the eyes of a stranger.

For her he’d always been Kevin’s friend on the force, first in his role as an undercover officer, then later as an investigator with the district attorney’s office. Sure, he’d looked a little rough around the edges. But most of Kevin’s friends and co-workers had looked that way. Kevin had called the drug enforcement officers that he’d mostly dealt with “the wolf pack,” and it had been an apt name. They had a lean, ragged look about them that seemed to suggest they were on the fringes of society and liked things that way just fine. Kevin had always stuck out with his boyish Irish good looks, earning him the nickname of “The Choirboy” and getting him some desperately dangerous assignments just because nobody suspected him.

He’d loved every minute of it, she knew that. And from what Alex and others had told her, what they could tell her after Kevin’s death, he’d been very good at what he did. Why couldn’t those who followed after him have been as good at what they did so scum like Rico stayed in custody? It certainly would make her life easier. Or at least she would have been without this latest complication. Nothing was particularly easy about life right now. Raising two active little boys with no father, and limited income, put a daily strain on Holly’s patience and her bank account. Now to add looking over her shoulder again was the last thing she needed.

Jon-Paul walked away from the range where he was supervising a sous-chef with half a dozen sauté pans going and stood in front of Holly. “Okay, you ready to talk? Felicity says that guy out there made you cry. Is she right?”

Holly managed what she knew was a wan smile for her overprotective boss. “Not exactly. He didn’t make me cry the way she thinks he did. I’ll admit I was crying, but it wasn’t exactly Alex’s fault. He’s just an old friend of my husband’s, and he had a little bad news for me. Nothing I can’t handle. And nothing you need to get involved in.”

“You sure?” There were times when Holly thought that Jon-Paul missed the action he’d gotten playing football. He certainly didn’t seem to shy away from confrontation.

“Positive. But thanks for caring.”

His scowl lightened into a grin. “Hey, you’re my best server. I can’t have you upset.” He looked around the kitchen at the chefs and assistants who were finishing up the last of the late dinner orders. “Why don’t you take off a little early and take care of your business with your friend.”

“Sounds like a good idea. You sure you don’t mind?” Holly minded a little herself, just because taking off early meant less income in tips. But the dining crowd was thinning, and there wouldn’t be that much more income to be had anyway. Alex’s presence would have her so rattled that she wouldn’t be that effective to begin with. As usual, Jon-Paul had a good idea.

“I’m positive. See you for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“Bright and early.” Holly tried to sound more cheerful about the prospect than she felt. She went back to the dining room to try to make Alex see things from her perspective. It wasn’t a likely prospect, but she was sure going to try.

She knew she was going to lose the argument when he wouldn’t even consider her offer of dinner on the house. “No, I’m going to be here a while,” he argued, ignoring her pointed looks that tried to tell him otherwise. “No sense in getting off on the wrong foot. I intend to start out as a paying customer and stay that way. Besides, the one perk to being with the D.A.’s office is that I do have an expense account. It might not be the world’s most liberal one, but it will suit my needs well in a little town like this in Wisconsin.”

“If you insist.” Holly tried to sound as pleasant as possible. It wasn’t easy. She hated losing arguments. And lately it seemed as if she got in more arguments every day, and seldom won one. This one had all the earmarks of being a major defeat already.

“And I do insist. I insist on paying for my dinner, and I insist on staying here in town. The closer I can stay to you, the better.”

“Well, that might present a little problem, because Safe Harbor isn’t the kind of place where a woman in my situation can just take in a guy off the street without a lot of talk.”

“So tell them the truth.” Alex could be just as argumentative as she was. “Tell them I’m your bodyguard because of the situation Kevin left you in.”

“He didn’t leave me in any situation,” she fired back. “And I can’t tell them the rest of the truth, anyway.”

“Why not? Surely it would be better than having your fine, upstanding small-town friends think you were taking in strays.”

“It really isn’t any of your business what my friends will think. And surely that expense account will spring for a hotel room if we can find one. Your timing is at least a month off. If you could have held off until after Valentine’s Day I could have got you a room at the new bed-and-breakfast.”

“Sorry the bad guys weren’t paying attention to your social calendar.”

“Oh, stow it, Wilkins. I know you’re sorry about a lot of things, but I’m sure that isn’t one of them.” Holly knew she sounded unkind, but she felt unkind right now, and anxious to get rid of Alex Wilkins and the problems he posed.

He wasn’t cooperating. Alex sat still, folding his arms over his chest. “You’d love it if I just walked out of here, wouldn’t you? Well, get used to having me around, because no matter how much you protest, or how many reasons you have to the contrary, I’m staying. And for tonight I’m camping out as close to you as I can get. If you’ll let me have your living-room couch, I’ll take that. Otherwise I’ll sleep in my car in the apartment-complex parking lot. But I’m not going away, Holly.”

The light in his eyes told her he meant every word of what he said. That was a shame, because now Holly was stuck. She had no desire to let Alex Wilkins into her apartment for any reason. But only a heartless monster would let anybody sleep in a car in January this far north. Of course Alex knew that. It was why he’d played that trump card to begin with.

“Don’t get comfortable on that couch, Wilkins. Because you’re spending one night, and one night only, there. And you can be the one to come up with an explanation for my boys about who you are and why you’re on that couch. Remember they’re only five.”

Alex looked thoughtful while he took a credit card out of his pocket to settle his bill. “Now you make sleeping in the car sound attractive.” He’d lost that challenging grin. “If I thought I wouldn’t freeze to death I’d stay there. Five years old, huh? I’ll have to dredge back in the distant past and try to remember what I thought about when I was five. Maybe I can come up with something convincing that will satisfy them and make you happy at the same time.”

Holly picked up the credit card and headed toward the kitchen. “Don’t bet on it. You might convince the boys, but nothing you say will make me happy until you say goodbye.” She was pretty sure that was the truth. Why didn’t it feel much like the truth when she said it?

Holly puzzled the question over in her mind while she got Alex’s receipt and prepared to give him directions to her apartment. Surely any sane, respectable person would be glad to have someone like Alex out of her life as quickly as possible.

Why, instead, did it seem as if he was the cavalry riding up to rescue her? She didn’t need rescuing from anything, did she? Most of her said no, but there was a sliver of common sense that told her yes, she needed rescuing in ways that Alex could probably provide. It was only a few blocks back to the apartment, not nearly enough time to answer a question that complex, so Holly wasn’t surprised when she pulled up in the parking lot with no more answers than she’d had at The Bistro.

Chapter Three

Alex had to admire Holly’s baby-sitter. The kid looked only about fifteen or sixteen, but he seemed very protective of her. This was obviously the first time Holly had ever come home from work earlier than planned, or brought company with her, and the boy eyed Alex suspiciously.

Neither of the rowdy little boys the teenager had been watching appeared to like the idea of a strange man coming home with Mom, either. Holly paid the sitter, and Alex could hear her reassuring him at the doorway that everything was okay. While that was going on, he sat down on the lumpy brown couch in the living room. The little boys stared at him in silence.

“Who are you, anyway?” One of them broke his silence and stepped half a pace closer to Alex. There was still a coffee table between them to keep the kid brave. Alex could see a bit of Kevin Douglas in this one. His brown hair looked as if it had a mind of its own, and his challenging posture made him seem much taller than he was.

“I’m a friend of your dad’s. My name is Alex Wilkins.”

“Okay.” The answer didn’t seem to satisfy the child totally. “I’m Conor. This is Aidan.” He motioned toward his silent brother, who was slightly taller.

Alex could hear the baby-sitter ask a question, and then Holly closed the door behind him. Alex was happy to see that she locked it securely. “So you’ve introduced yourself?”

“I have. Just the basics. I told them my name, and that I was a friend of their dad’s. Anything else I should add?”

“Only that you won’t be here long, and that it’s still time for bed, whether we have company or not,” Holly said firmly. Conor seemed about to protest, but one look at his mother made him think better of it. If he’d gotten that look from a woman, Alex thought, he wouldn’t argue, either. Holly started hustling the two boys toward the hall.

While she was putting the boys to bed, Alex took in his surroundings. Everything was as neat as he’d expect a home with two five-year-olds to be, and under the clutter it was all very clean. Other than the boys’ toys and the basics, there wasn’t much to see.

Holly’s couch wasn’t the most comfortable thing Alex had ever thought about sleeping on. It beat sitting straight up in a car seat, or slouched over in one doing a stakeout, but that was about the nicest thing he could say about it. The couch was far from new, and there had obviously been a lot of kid feet bouncing on it over the years. That would account for the sagging springs, anyway.

The room was warmer than his car would have been, and it was quiet enough. Once Holly had put the kids to bed she came out of their room quietly. She went to a linen closet, got supplies, handed him a pillow and blanket and pointed out the remote for the television. “If you turn on the TV, keep it quiet. Conor’s a light sleeper. Aidan would sleep through a hurricane, but his brother hears mouse footsteps, I swear.”

“I’ll keep it low,” he promised. Holly went to bed at that point. Without another word she disappeared into the other bedroom, and Alex didn’t see her again. He wondered what kinds of thoughts were rolling through her mind.

He knew what was going through his. How could he do his job, help Holly without messing up her life, and get out of this town as quickly as possible?

In the morning he could feel someone watching him before he opened his eyes. The instinct to react was so strong that he thanked God for the foresight he’d had in locking up his automatic in the gun safe built into his car trunk.

He opened his eyes to see a short, freckle-faced figure standing in front of him, regarding him seriously. Without seeing both twins, he wondered who he was looking at. “Good morning,” he said, wondering if a kid this young knew where his mom kept the coffee. He was definitely going to have to find out.

“Hi. I’m Conor,” the boy said, ending Alex’s confusion over that point, at least. “What’s your name again?”

“Alex. Alex Wilkins.”

“Oh, yeah. You said you were a friend of my dad’s, right?”

“Right.”

Conor seemed to think about that. “From before or from now?”

That had him stumped. “From before, I think. What do you mean?”

The kid wrinkled his brow. “Well, Mom says Dad’s in heaven with Jesus and the angels now, and you’re sure not Jesus and you don’t look like any angel.”

Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or be stunned by the depth of the kid’s thoughts. “Trust me, I’m not an angel.”

“I didn’t think so. That’s too bad. We could sure use one.”

This was interesting. Maybe Holly wasn’t as independent and “okay” as she had portrayed herself. “Oh, yeah?”

Conor apparently trusted him enough to sit down on the edge of the couch next to him. “Yeah. Mom’s always talking to God and Dad when she thinks we don’t hear her. And she’s sure asking them for help a lot lately.”

Alex felt a lump in his throat. How did he answer this? “Well, like I said, I’m not an angel. But maybe I can help out some while I’m here. For right now, you could help me out.”

“Me? How?” Conor didn’t look as if he believed that for a moment.

“You could go into the kitchen with me and show me where your mom keeps the coffee. Who knows, maybe I could even fix breakfast for both of us while I’m there.”

“I’ll try. But I think we’re out of coffee. And I think we’re out of the right kind of cereal, too. I think that’s why Mom was talking to God and Dad so loud yesterday while she was getting ready for work.”

Great. Alex hadn’t talked to this kid for ten minutes yet and already he knew a lot more about Holly’s personal life than he cared to know. “Well, maybe we can do something about that. Let’s go out in the kitchen and look anyway, okay?”

“Okay. But don’t make any noise. I’m not supposed to make any noise until Mom’s alarm goes off. And no touching anything glass, or knives, or opening the refrigerator….”

“I get the picture, Conor.” If Holly was really out of coffee, he might have to break a few rules around here before the lady of the house even got out of bed.

Walking into the kitchen and having Conor show him around made Alex wary somehow. The space reminded him of something, brought a memory from his past almost to the surface. Whatever it was lay just beneath where Alex could access it as he searched the clean, bare countertops and looked briefly in the cabinets.

“Well, you’re right, Conor,” he said after his foray. “There is no coffee here, not even in the freezer. And unless the right kind of cereal is plain corn flakes, it isn’t here, either.”

Conor made a noise of disgust. “Corn flakes. Nobody but Mom likes corn flakes. And we all had them for breakfast yesterday. There weren’t even any bananas.” He wrinkled his nose and sat down on one of the worn kitchen chairs. “Mom said she was going to the grocery store after work last night. I bet she forgot.”

“If she did, it’s because of me. I kind of came in where she works and surprised her.” He sat down at one of the other chairs, sliding it out quietly to keep to Conor’s “no noise” rules. If he hadn’t woken Holly or Conor’s twin brother already, maybe he’d get lucky and let them sleep a while longer.

“I hope it was a good surprise.” Conor seemed to be accusing him of something. The serious look on the child’s face and his crossed arms brought Alex’s memory to the surface. It wasn’t a pleasant one, and he wished that he’d been able to leave it buried.

This was a replica of his kitchen when he was a kid, or at least one of them. His dad’s navy career had put them through at least a dozen kitchens by the time Alex had left home at sixteen.

It wasn’t the look of this kitchen that reminded him of his mother’s kitchens, but more the feel of it. Everything was spare and stark, clean but somewhat empty. The very basics were there, but very little else. No cute little canisters held tea and homemade cookies. Other than the kid art on the refrigerator gallery, there wasn’t much that added color to the room.

Alex wondered if there was a reason Holly’s kitchen reminded him of those his mother had tried to make into homes twenty years ago. He hoped there was little cause at all, other than the similarity of two harried mothers raising kids virtually alone under tight circumstances.

Conor definitely had the serious air he’d had as a child, protective of his mother. Alex had never felt as if he’d protected his own mother enough, even though he’d been a child at the time. But this mother he could help in several ways. “Come on, Conor,” he told his companion. “We’re going to make a breakfast run.”

Holly’s alarm beeped insistently, and she groped for it. Just ten more minutes of sleep would feel so good. Her eyes opened as her fingers hit the button, and in an instant she was sitting straight up, feet over the edge of the bed, ready to spring into action. It was much too light out for this to be her normal time to get up. She must have hit the snooze alarm without knowing it, maybe even several times already.

She could hear voices in the kitchen. At first hearing three voices, one of them a deep adult male, disoriented her. Then she remembered last night and all its surprises. Alex was in her kitchen with the boys. Knowing that was enough to get her up and out of bed all the way in a hurry. She pulled on sweatpants to go with the T-shirt she’d slept in and raced out to the kitchen, oblivious to what she must look like.

Holly wasn’t sure what she had expected in the kitchen, but she certainly hadn’t anticipated the breakfast party she found. “Hi, Mom.” Aidan backhanded a suspiciously dark milk mustache, grinning. “Alex got doughnuts. The good kind with sprinkles. And chocolate milk, but only a little bit.”

“What happened here?” Holly didn’t know whether to be stunned or gratified that Alex had gotten the kids breakfast. It wasn’t what she would have allowed them to have, but they’d have to deal with that issue later. There wasn’t any sense in forbidding doughnuts that had already been eaten.

Alex shrugged, sipping coffee out of a mug. “Just breakfast. Conor was up early and he informed me that you were out of coffee, so we made a quick run down the street to solve that problem. The closest place we could find to get breakfast stuff was the bakery. And I’m a sucker for doughnuts with sprinkles, too.” His smile was disarming.

Holly sat down, unsure where to begin the questions she had. “How did you get there? Conor and Aidan both have booster seats for the car. I’ll bet you let him ride up front without a seat, didn’t you?” She was amazed at how angry the thought made her.

“Not a chance. I may not have kids, but I know that much about safety. He rode in the back, in his own booster seat. You left your car unlocked last night when we got here, apparently.” His warning look told Holly that he wanted to discuss that subject later.

His accusation made her defensive. “Have you really looked at that car? Who would steal a twelve-year-old sedan with that kind of rust damage?”

“Nobody, especially in a little town like this. But that wasn’t what I was talking about, and you know it.” Alex didn’t say any more, just lifted his coffee to his lips. “I got you a coffee, too, by the way. And Aidan’s right—I only got one container of chocolate milk. The gallon I bought was regular one percent. I figured I had to do something to earn points with you.”

“Thank you.” Holly got up and went toward the kitchen countertop. She wasn’t sure what she was thanking Alex for the most—getting breakfast for everyone when she didn’t have the energy, giving the boys a much-needed treat that she could not have provided or not mentioning her safety in front of her children.

“You’re welcome.” His quiet answer made Holly shiver. It was as if he’d understood all three of her reasons for thanking him. She wasn’t used to having another adult to talk to most of the time. Especially not a man, and definitely not one who understood her. She had figured she’d lost that luxury for good when Kevin died.

She hid her confusion by grabbing her cardboard cup of coffee. Opening the cabinet, she got a mug out and poured the coffee in. She took a moment to bring it up to full steam in the microwave and sat down at the table with the mug, hoping she could mask the whirl of feelings that threatened to swamp her.

“We saved you one, Mom.” Aidan pushed the box closer to her, coming perilously close to knocking over her coffee. A veteran of such encounters, Holly moved her mug in time.

“Good for you. And it’s even the cinnamon kind. Who told Mr. Wilkins that I liked those?”

It was Conor’s turn to grin this time. “I did. And he said to call him Alex, Mom, not Mr. Wilkins. Is that okay?”

“If that’s what he said, Conor.” She looked around the table at the crumbs and mostly empty milk glasses. “Now, if you guys are done with breakfast, how about going in and washing your hands and faces again and getting dressed for school?”

Aidan took one last swig of chocolate milk and the two of them were off. “I didn’t think about that much sugar in them on a school morning,” Alex said. “Hope their teacher doesn’t threaten to strangle me.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll burn it off before they get there. Fortunately sugar isn’t a problem for either of them.” Holly looked at her overnight guest. He didn’t really look as if he’d slept a lot better than she had. His hair was still a bit rumpled, and the flannel shirt he was wearing had the earmarks of having been slept in. “So, what did they ask you? And what did you tell them?”

Alex sighed and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Conor’s sharp for five. I’ll bet you have a challenge keeping up with him.”

“I do. He’s always the one with the questions I can’t answer. Aidan is satisfied with a lot less in the way of explanations.”

“Yeah, knowing that I was an old work buddy of Kevin’s was enough for him. That and doughnuts.” Alex grinned out of one side of his mouth.

“The chocolate milk didn’t hurt, either. Smart move, Wilkins.”

The grin made it all the way to his tired eyes this time. “Guys and food bribery. It does solve a lot of problems.”

“True. But it won’t solve all the problems this time. We’re going to need to figure out something to tell them without going into the details about Rico. They know very little about Kevin’s death, and I intend to keep it that way until they’re a lot older.”

“And they’re much too young to have to deal with this situation,” Alex agreed. “Conor did mention that maybe you could use a little help around here. Maybe we could just leave things at that. Tell them that I’ve come to help out for a while.”

“We don’t need that much help.” Holly knew she sounded argumentative, but it was the way she felt. “I can take care of my kids and myself just fine, thank you.”

“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to. Especially not in this situation, Holly.” His hand slid over the table to cover hers. “I know this has to be rough. How rough I can’t even imagine as a single guy with no one depending on me. Now Cook County has added to your burden by messing up Rico’s custody arrangements. At least let me try to make that up to you.”

Holly drew her hand out from under his. It felt too good to have that human contact, and she surely couldn’t get used to it. “There’s no way you can make up to me what Cook County did to mess up my life. But I know you’re not going away for a while, so I might as well get used to you.” She’d try to get used to him, anyway. It would be difficult to do without depending on him, but Holly knew that she couldn’t depend on anybody anymore. The past eighteen months had certainly taught her that. “What do I owe you for breakfast?”

He waved away her concern before she could reach for her purse. “Nothing. I spent less altogether than I would have for one coffee and a scone in Chicago.”

“Well, don’t make a habit of providing the groceries around here.”

“Only as long as I’m eating part of them. Will we have time for a supermarket run once you drop these guys off at school? I only got one cup of coffee for each of us, and I can guarantee that I’ll be looking for more before we go in to The Bistro later.”

Holly felt tired already. Having Alex around was certainly going to complicate her life. Maybe if she didn’t argue with him, and showed him enough of what her normal life was like, he’d lose interest quickly. “Sure. Now, why don’t you go break up the water fight that I know is going on in the bathroom so that we can get those guys to school on time and relatively dry?”

It surprised her to see that he seemed to relish the prospect. “Will do. They need any help with getting dressed or anything while I’m in there?”

Holly tried not to smirk. “Try asking them that and see the answer you get.” The ruckus that would follow that kind of question would be worth the price of admission. Maybe having Alex around wouldn’t last long after all. Surely a day or two of this would have him hightailing it back to Chicago.

He rose, grinning. “I don’t think so. You look like that would be too easy. And I have to remember they’re independent guys even if they aren’t very tall. Even at five, I don’t remember wanting help with much of anything. I’ll settle for breaking up the water fight. And once we get them dropped off, you and I are going to have a long conversation on personal safety.”

He was going to be a hard one to shake, Holly thought as he retreated to the hall bathroom. Something about watching him from a rear view made her worry about more than just getting rid of him. Seeing him in jeans early in the morning, Holly could tell that having Alex around was going to be more threatening to her personal safety than worrying about Rico out there someplace in the shadows.

Chapter Four

Grocery shopping with Alex was a nerve-racking experience for Holly. She was sure she would rather have been pushing the cart through the aisles with both boys along, and that was her least favorite way to shop. But Alex was much more adamant about putting into the cart large numbers of things she couldn’t afford and didn’t usually get. And unlike her boys, a pointed look in his direction did not make him put things back on the shelves.

In fact, no amount of arguing made him stick to her list or her budget. “You’re not doing me any favors in the long run,” she told him when he put the third expensive package of meat into the cart. “Once you’re gone in a few days the boys will only wonder why I’m not getting all this again.”

“Then they’ll be happy to have good old Uncle Alex stick around a while, won’t they?”

It was all Holly could do not to roll her eyes. “That’s what they’ll see when they look at you, isn’t it? An uncle to spoil them and let them do things that I wouldn’t on a bet. Of course they’ll be happy to keep you around.”

“Hey, I’d think you’d be just as happy. You get a little help, and Cook County pays both at the same time. If I were in your shoes it wouldn’t bother me to have them pay for a whole lot.”

Holly didn’t know how to answer that one. She’d tried hard not to blame the police force for Kevin’s death. It had been a struggle not to blame his job, or God, or even fate or whatever for what had happened. None of those alternatives seemed like the Christian way to deal with what had happened. But if she were honest with herself, the kind of feelings Alex was describing welled up in her more often than she’d like to admit. How did he do that? She didn’t remember inviting Alex Wilkins into her personal world of thoughts and feelings, yet he managed to get there often enough to make her quite uncomfortable.

She hoped her discomfort didn’t show. Holly wasn’t ready to share her deepest feelings with this man yet. “Well, be glad you’re not in my shoes. Because it’s not a very nice place to be right now.” Even that amount of honesty surprised her. She was used to keeping her problems to herself. What was it about squabbling over expensive cookies in the grocery store with this man that brought out so many mixed feelings?

“Gee, do I sense a little hostility here?” Alex stepped back from the cart. “If so, hooray. You need to vent some of that once in a while, Holly.”

She pushed the half-loaded basket past him, narrowly missing his toes. He was a cool customer; he didn’t even flinch when the cart rolled by that close. “Since when have you added psychologist to your other degrees, Wilkins? It doesn’t become you.”

“Not really psychology, just common sense. There’s still plenty of that taught in the academy and at law school. Maybe even we don’t apply it as often as we should.”

“How’s that?” He sounded genuinely concerned, and Holly wanted to know what he meant.

“I’ve been telling the brass for years that we don’t give enough support to victims and their families. Which is why I probably got this assignment,” he finished with a rueful grin. “Maybe they figure if I see what that kind of support actually entails I won’t be so quick to volunteer it.”

“Suits me. Then maybe I can get back to life as I know it.” Holly pushed the cart past another aisle, anxious to get out of the store without too much more goody-buying from Alex.

He wasn’t about to let her get away easily. Alex walked in front and put both hands on the end of the cart, blocking her way. “Yeah, well, don’t be so quick to go back to life as you know it. You weren’t doing that great a job, Holly.”

His gaze on her made a shiver run up her spine. She couldn’t ignore the serious tone of what he said or the implications of the words, either. “What—what do you mean by that?” she stammered.

“I may have only been here a day or so, but I’ve looked around. In a perfectly normal situation you’d be doing an okay job. But this isn’t a perfectly normal situation. And from what I’ve seen, you’re stressed and short on patience and money. Raising kids alone can’t be fun or easy.”

“No, but it’s reality, so you might as well let me get back to it.” Holly felt like folding her arms and pouting. Of course, neither action would make Alex take her any more seriously.

“Sorry, I can’t do that. I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not leaving for a while. I want to make sure you’re plenty safe first. You and the boys.”

“We’ll be safe. We have been for the entire time we’ve lived in Safe Harbor. It’s well named,” Holly argued.

“Not good enough. You were safe then because Rico was behind bars. Now he’s not, and that changes things. Besides, remember what I said earlier? That I was able to take Conor with me in his own car seat because none of the car doors were locked? You can’t be that lax, even after I go back to Chicago. Rico has friends. And they have friends. This may not be over for years.”

“Great. Just what I wanted to hear.”

He still wasn’t letting the basket move. “Whether you want to hear what I have to say or not, you have to listen. And listening means doing what I’m asking, like locking the car doors. Can we agree on that?”

Her aggravation and anxiety levels were growing by the second. Wasn’t there anything she could say that would make him listen? This was her life they were talking about, and she wanted to stay in control. “But Alex, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. Nobody in Safe Harbor is that concerned about security. It’s a very small town.”

Shaking his head, Alex finally let go of the cart. He wasn’t letting go of his ideas, though. “Yeah, it’s a small town, all right. With a very small police force, I’ll bet. And a large tourist population.”

“So?”

“So nobody would notice a stranger like Rico or the guys he hangs out with if they came around looking for you. The Safe Harbor force has gotten our bulletins, but they don’t know how you fit in. The force here will have to be educated on what to look for, and chances are nobody around here is ready. Maybe I can make some money while I’m here, giving security seminars. Reimburse the county for some of these expensive groceries.” He illustrated his point by putting two half gallons of ice cream into the cart. It wasn’t the store brand, either.

Holly gave up. Arguing with him only made him more determined. “All right. Fine. I’ll lock the car doors. And make sure the dead bolt is on at night in the apartment.”

“And screen your phone calls. You do have caller ID, don’t you?”

The man was relentless. “Sure. Whatever.” Whatever was going to get him out of her hair the fastest. And if that meant agreeing with him on all his much-too-cautious safety notions, so be it. They were coming up to the checkout counter now and she knew there wasn’t enough money in her purse to pay for this heaped cart of food. So arguing with Alex at this point would be counterproductive.

But then, Holly was beginning to get the idea that arguing with Alex at any point was going to be fairly useless. He was a man used to getting his way. She might have plenty of experience arguing with stubborn little boys, but Alex with his courtroom training was a whole different kind of adversary.

Didn’t the woman ever get tired of arguing? Alex picked up as many plastic sacks of groceries as he was sure he could take in one load and straightened up from the car trunk. If he took any less she’d only load herself down, sure that she needed to pull her weight in every endeavor. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever met anybody this stubborn. His aggravation probably made him close the trunk a little more forcefully than he should, but he had to get rid of some frustrations somewhere.

Independence was a wonderful thing, especially in a situation like the one Holly found herself in. When she didn’t have anybody around it was good that she was self-reliant. But Alex was pretty sure self-reliance could be carried too far. Why not take the help when it was available and offered? Holly seemed to push him away for no reason. If positions were reversed and he normally had a family to support on as little as he knew she was getting by on, he’d welcome a little help once in a while. Did she really expect a week or two of pork chops instead of hot dogs would spoil those kids for life?

What he remembered about Holly told Alex that she hadn’t always been this way. The way Kevin had talked about Holly, she’d seemed a little more willing to compromise, to give in, to share the burden with others.

Toiling up the apartment-house stairs, arms laden with groceries, Alex flashed back to his own childhood again. He remembered how routine his mother’s life and his own had been during those long periods when his dad was at sea. Not that routine was bad, especially for little kids. They seemed to thrive on it. He knew he had, but life alone with his mother had somehow often slipped from routine to much too quiet.

The celebrations that took place when his father came home along with the rest of his ship’s crew always made the old man seem like an even more special individual. And come to think of it, the celebrations also helped to mask, for years, how drab their lives were when he was away. What Jim Wilkins couldn’t see didn’t exist, and Alex knew his mother made sure that his father saw just what she wanted him to when he was on leave.

The door to Holly’s apartment was wide open when he reached her floor. He knew she was probably only seconds ahead of him, but still her carelessness aggravated him. Hadn’t they just talked about this? He went through the open door and pointedly kicked it closed behind him without saying a word, making enough noise to remind her to shut it next time.

“I heard that,” she called from the kitchen. “Real subtle.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” he called back.

Her face was flushed when she turned to meet his entrance into the kitchen. “What did you want me to do, shut it in your face so that I’d have to come unlock it again when you knocked? Your expensive ice cream would melt on the countertop while I did that.”

“Better melted ice cream than unwanted visitors.” Alex put down his pile of bags on the kitchen table. “I shut the trunk, too. It’s more work, I know, when we’ve got another load of groceries to bring up here. But you have to stop announcing to the world what you’re doing, Holly.”

She looked at him from her place sorting canned goods from the sacks. “I know all that, Alex, really I do. But can’t you realize what this does to my life?”

Her violet eyes held traces of harried fear. The expression made Alex want to put an arm around her, find a way to drive away the concern that wrinkled her smooth skin. “I know we weren’t really any safer before you came to town. But I could fool myself into thinking we were. That all the ugliness had been left in the big city along with the constant memories of Kevin’s death. That maybe, just maybe, I could raise my kids in a normal environment where I wouldn’t have to fear for their safety, and my own, every waking moment.”

It was the sadness in her voice that finally pushed him to action. Alex crossed the small kitchen and put his arms around her, knowing she’d fight the embrace but needing to offer it anyway.

“I’ll do anything I can to make it better,” he told her, meaning every word of it as he wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders. Surprisingly she didn’t struggle, but leaned against him. The action caused a thrill of shock to course through him, compounded by the myriad thoughts that crowded his brain at the same time. What made her smell so good—mildly floral with a hint of some kind of spice? Who knew that her dark hair would be so soft, with her head fitting so well under his chin as he pulled her closer?

Merely offering comfort to another human being had never caused feelings like this in him. For once Holly was accepting his help, and it was nearly killing him to give it to her. He wanted to pull back as if he’d touched hot metal instead of the pliant woman who nearly melted in his arms.

“You mean well,” she murmured. “And I want to believe you, really I do. It would be so easy if I could believe you. But I know I can’t. What I need is some kind of superhero, Alex, and as nice a guy as you are, you’re no hero.”

For her he wanted to be one. But Holly’s warm body this close to his was causing some very un-heroic feelings to assault him. Even as Alex used one finger to tilt her chin up so that their gazes met, he knew he was proving her right. He was no hero if he wanted this badly to comfort them both with a kiss. Still, she didn’t fight him, didn’t protest at all as he drew ever closer. When their lips met, the actual contact was soft and incredibly sweet. It was all he could do to stay standing upright, not crush Holly between himself and the kitchen cabinets in a much more fervent embrace.

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