around the inn late at night.
“When I get picked up, another pair of officers are going to dispose of the vehicle.” He placed a hand on her arm. “Please don’t worry. Yet another man is going to stay here with you for the next forty-eight hours. Just to make sure you are safe.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I never thought I’d have to worry about such things in Crittenden County.”
“I know it’s hard. Chin up, though, ’kay? You’re not alone in this.”
She appreciated that. “If you can promise that you won’t go away, I will keep my chin up,” she called over her shoulder as she led the way into the kitchen.
“I can promise that the agency will be by your side even if I won’t be here.”
After motioning him to a chair, she opened up her oven and pulled out a surprise for him. “Look what I’ve got—cinnamon rolls!”
Chris visibly blanched. “Did you make those?”
“Beth did.”
“Ah.”
Feeling a little awkward, but not sure why, she said, “Are you upset that these weren’t made by me . . . or that Beth made them?”
“I’m not upset.”
“Chin up, yes?” She said the words on purpose, hoping to create a bit of recognition in his eyes.
He exhaled deeply. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”
“I’m a woman who owns my own business. I can’t give up easily. If I did, I think I would fall apart. I surely wouldn’t have an inn.”
“All right. You got me. I was in here when Beth made those rolls. I . . . cleaned up the kitchen for her. That’s all.”
“Beth is a good woman. She’s my friend.”
“She said you two were close.”
Frannie pulled out a spatula and carefully cut out a generous portion for him.
When she put the plate in front of him, he half smiled. “These smell great.”
“I think so, too. I was so thankful to have them to come home to. I don’t know if you realized this, but Beth is a terrible cook. Usually.”
“Believe me, I know she doesn’t cook much.”
Frannie looked at him encouragingly. More than ready to hear a fun story about their time together. But Chris didn’t expand on his statement. Instead, he seemed intent on eating his treat as quickly as possible.
She took an exploratory bite and almost groaned. Not only were the rolls delicious, but they were better than hers.
Or maybe they just tasted better because she hadn’t had to go to all the trouble to knead and roll out the dough?
“So, do you have a message you’d like me to tell Beth? If you do, I’ll be glad to pass it on . . .”
“There is no message.”
She was a little surprised by his harsh tone. “Okay . . .”
“Sorry. I am what I am, Frannie.”
“You’re a good man.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t. It’s just that I have no place in my life for a woman like Beth.”
“Like Beth?”
“Not only is she Amish, but she’s sheltered. And sweet. My life wouldn’t mesh with hers. Ever.” He raised his chin and met her gaze. “You know I’m right.”
She knew. This man was in a terribly dangerous line of work, and seemed to live his life pretending to be other people, too. Living with such a man would be a difficult thing. A scary thing.
“You are right.”
Chris looked like he was about to explain himself some more when there was a knock at the door. A hard rap. She froze.
Without hesitation, Chris pulled a gun out from the small of his back.
She gasped.
He spun to face her. “Stay here,” he ordered, his expression dark and fierce. “Don’t move.”
He turned and walked toward the front of the house before she even had time to nod.
A cold sweat trickled down her back, matching the tears slowly running down her cheeks. She wanted to be brave, but she was afraid. Afraid for Chris and afraid for her beloved inn.
But selfishly, she was also very afraid for herself. What if the men overpowered Chris? What if they hurt him again, and then found her and hurt her, too?
Her hands were shaking now. With a grimace, she folded her arms over her chest. What she needed to do was relax and trust Chris to do his job and keep her safe.
And to trust in God, of course!
Feeling hopeful for the very first time, she walked over to the back door of the kitchen. The one that led to her little vegetable and herb garden. Though Chris had asked that she not move,