The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 1-5 - Catherine Coulter [314]
He looked down at the sleeping child. There was some color in her cheeks. The taut gray look she’d had even in sleep since he’d found her was finally gone. She looked like a normal little girl. He smiled at the bright colors she was wearing. He remembered the previous evening when they’d settled down for him to read to her after dinner. He’d brought up seeing the sheriff again.
This time she hadn’t just shaken her head. She’d grabbed his hand and clung to him. And then shaken her head. He hated that awful empty fear in her eyes.
“All right,” he’d said. “We’ll give it a while longer. But your parents, kiddo, they’ve got to be frantic for you.”
She lowered her head and began to cry.
He wanted to curse, but he didn’t. He hadn’t snarled a nice meaningful curse in four days, at least out loud, in her hearing.
She seemed terrified that if anyone knew where she was, parents included, she would be hurt again. And she just might. How had he gotten her the first time? Had her parents been careless with her? Left her alone in a shopping mall? Or had the kidnapper simply walked into the girl’s yard and taken her?
Maybe he’d go to the sheriff in a couple of days. Almost as soon as he thought it, he was shaking his head. No, she needed more time to trust, to see that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
But when she was back with her parents, he wouldn’t see her again. He wouldn’t be able to protect her. They’d failed to protect her before. It could happen again. But the bottom line was, she wasn’t his. He’d saved her, but she wasn’t his. He didn’t know what to do.
He shook his head at himself and speeded up. The Jeep was a workhorse. He loved it. It was a beautiful day, a bit on the cool side, not more than fifty-five degrees, but the sun was bright overhead. There’d been lots of people on the streets. He remembered the feeling of being watched. Had it been real?
He turned at the sound of a low moan. Another nightmare. He leaned over and touched her face. She moved her cheek against his palm, then stilled. He ruffled her hair and cupped her small chin in his palm. She opened her beautiful light blue eyes and blinked up at him. He saw her fear slowly disappear. Her eyes warmed. In that instant he knew he wasn’t going to let anyone else have her until he knew for certain that she’d be safe.
“Yeah, yeah, so I’m a big Jell-O. But you know what? Jell-O isn’t bad. Another thing, not only are you the best-dressed kid in the Ferengi Range, you’re the cutest.”
THE next afternoon when he came in from out of doors carrying an armful of logs, she flinched and ducked back behind the sofa.
He stopped immediately. “What’s up? What’s the matter?”
She tried to smile, but it fell away.
“I surprised you?”
She nodded, relieved that he’d explained it as she’d wanted him to. He smiled. “I’ll knock next time. I cut us some more wood for the fireplace and the woodstove. Now, after I get this all set, how about you and I go out into the meadow? I want to show you your surprise. While you were trying on your jeans, I got you something really neat.” It was, he knew, the only way he was going to get her outside. Since they were in town, she’d refused even to step out onto the front porch. It was time to get her into the fresh air.
Still, she hung back, her small face pale, her expression wary.
“It’s really neat,” he said again, not acting all that excited, “your surprise,