Wildflower Ridge - Sherryl Woods Page 0,6

to come along and offer you a lift. I’ll tell you right now, though, that it’s a very long way to the next town and hardly anybody uses this particular stretch of road.”

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

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

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

Her resolve wavered. “But the car...”

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

“I could wait,” she suggested hopefully.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then you are arresting me.”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

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

“Yes, baby.”

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

“He’s a policeman. He’s helping us.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Just because I got caught.”

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

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

“Yes,” he said curtly.

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

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

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

“Something like that,” he conceded, unsmiling.

Patsy felt an odd little shock of disappointment, then cursed herself. Was she so desperate for a friend that she was willing to trust this stranger who had the power to give her whereabouts away to her husband? He was clearly a man with a strong sense of right and wrong, a commitment to duty. He would be the worst possible choice for a friend. When it came to a choice between obligation and friendship,

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