Christmastime Courtship Read online

  Lily was all but bursting with excitement. “Can I carry it to the dining room?” she asked.

  That wouldn’t be a good idea, Miranda thought. The box was large and would prove to be rather unwieldy for a little girl to carry.

  “Well, it’s kind of heavy,” she told her. “So why don’t I carry it there for you and you can open the box once I put it on the table?”

  “Okay,” Lily responded, obviously ready to agree to anything her idol suggested.

  The little girl literally skipped to the dining area at Miranda’s side. And she never took her eyes off the box, as if afraid it would suddenly disappear if she did.

  “What kind of cake is it?” she asked.

  “A birthday cake,” Miranda replied solemnly.

  Lily giggled and waved her hand at her friend. “I know that, silly,” she told her. “I mean what kind of birthday cake?”

  “A good one,” Miranda said, still pretending that she didn’t understand what Lily was asking her.

  “Besides that,” Lily pressed, giggling again.

  “It’s a lemon cake with vanilla frosting,” Miranda told the bubbly little girl beside her as they reached the dining area.

  Lily’s eyes grew huge with obvious delight. “Lemon cake’s my very favorite in the whole world.”

  “Well, how about that.” Miranda pretended to marvel. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes, you did,” Lily said, a surprisingly knowing look on her small, thin face.

  And then Miranda smiled affectionately at the girl. “I guess I did at that. Guess what else I’ve got,” she said.

  “Candles?” Lily asked in a hopeful whisper.

  Miranda nodded. “Eight big ones. And one extra one for luck.”

  Instead of saying anything in response to the information, Lily threaded her small arm through one of her friend’s and hugged it hard, her excitement all but palpable.

  Miranda could feel her heart practically squeezing within her chest. This moment she was sharing with Lily was both humbling and sad. Other children her age would have asked for toys or expensive video games, and not shown half the excitement when they received them that Lily displayed over the fact that she was getting a birthday cake—with candles.

  Drawn by the sound of Lily’s squeals, Amelia Sellers, the tall, angular-looking woman who ran the shelter, made her way over to them. Her smile was warm and genuine—and perhaps slightly relieved, as well.

  Amelia’d probably thought she wasn’t going to make it. Most likely because she had a habit of being early, not running late like this.

  “Lily’s been looking forward to this all day,” Amelia told her the moment she reached them.

  “So have I,” Miranda assured both the director and the little girl, who was looking up at her with nothing short of adoration in her eyes.

  “I put out the plates,” Amelia announced, gesturing at one of the dining tables. “So let’s get started.”

  Miranda smiled down at Lily, who was obviously waiting for her to make the first move. She had to be the most well-mannered eager little girl she’d ever met.

  “Let’s,” Miranda agreed.

  Carefully taking the half sheet cake out of the box, Miranda moved the rectangular container aside and out of the way. She then put the candles on the cake, making sure she spaced them close enough together that Lily would be able to blow them all out at once when she made her wish.

  The moment the birthday cake was placed on the table, children began coming over, clustering around the table, all hoping to get a piece.

  Taking out the book of matches she had picked up when she’d purchased the candles, Miranda struck one and then carefully lit the eight plus one wicks.

  Blowing out the match, she looked at all the eager faces around the table. “All right,” she told the small gathering. “Everybody sing!”

  And she led the pint-size group, along with the smattering of adults also gathered around the table, in a loud, if slightly off-key chorus of “Happy Birthday.” All the while she kept one eye on Lily, who looked positively radiant.

  When the children stopped singing, Miranda told the little girl, “Okay, Lily, make a wish and blow out the candles.”

  Nodding, Lily pressed her lips together, clearly giving her wish a great deal of thought. Then she looked up at Miranda and smiled.

  Taking in a deep breath, Lily leaned over the cake and blew as hard as she could. The candles flickered and went out.

  “You got them all,” Miranda declared, applauding the little girl’s accomplishment.

  The children and adults around the table joined in, some loudly cheering, as well.

  Miranda felt someone tugging on the bottom of her tunic. Glancing down, she found herself looking into the upturned face of an animated little boy named Paul.

  “Now can we have some cake?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “Right after Lily gets the first piece.”

  Removing all nine candles, she set them on a napkin. Miranda proceeded to cut a piece of cake for Lily, making sure it was an extra-large one.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lily folding the napkin over the candles she’d just removed. The little girl covertly slipped the napkin into the pocket of her jeans, a souvenir of her special day.

  “There you go,” Miranda told her, sliding the plate to her.

  “Thank you,” Lily said.

  To Miranda’s surprise, rather than devour the cake as she expected, the little girl ate the slice slowly, as if savoring every morsel.

  “This is the best cake I ever had,” Lily declared when she finally finished it.

  The other children had made short work of the cake that was left, but Miranda had anticipated that. “You can have another piece,” she told Lily. Not waiting for a response, she pushed her own plate in front of the little girl.

  Lily looked tempted, but left the slice untouched.

  “What’s wrong?” Miranda asked.

  “I can’t eat that. That’s your piece,” she protested.

  Miranda smiled at the girl. One in a million, she thought.

  Out loud she stated, “And I saved it for you. I wanted you to have an extra piece and knew that the rest of the cake would probably be gobbled up fast. So don’t argue with me, young lady. Take this piece. It’s yours,” she coaxed.

  Lily still looked uncertain. “Really?”

  “Really,” Miranda assured her. “I’m the grown-up here. You have to listen.”

  Lily’s face was all smiles as she happily dug into the second piece.

  When she finished, Miranda cleared away the plates, stacking them on the side.

  “That was the best cake ever!” Lily told her with enthusiasm, and then hugged her again.

  “Glad to hear that,” Miranda said, when the little girl loosened her hold. “By the way, I have something for you.”

  “For me?” Lily cried, clearly amazed. It was obvious that she felt the cake was her big prize. Anything else was above and beyond all expectation. “What is it?”

  Miranda reached into the oversize purse she’d left on the floor and pulled out the gift she had wrapped for Lily early this morning, before she’d left for the hospital.

  Handing it over, she said, “Why don’t you open it and see?”

  Lily held the gift as if she couldn’t decide whether to unwrap it or just gaze at it adoringly for a while. Her curiosity finally won out and she started peeling away the wrapping paper.

  The moment she’d done so, her mouth dropped open. “You got me a puppy!” she cried.

  “Well,” Miranda amended, “I can’t get you a real puppy because the shelter won’t allow it, so for now, I want you to have this stuffed one. But someday, when you’re in a home again, I’ll
come and bring you a real one,” she promised.

  Heaven knew she had access to enough homeless dogs at the animal shelter to pick just the right one for the little girl.

  Lily threw her arms around her a third time and hugged her as hard as she could. “I wish you were my mom,” she said breathlessly.

  Touched though she was, Miranda knew she couldn’t have the girl feeling like that. “Don’t say that, honey. Your real mom’s out there and she’s probably trying to get back here to you right now.”

  But Lily shook her head. “I still wish you were my mom,” she insisted, burying her face against Miranda as she clutched the stuffed dog. “Thank you for my cake and my candles and my puppy. Thank you for everything,” she cried.

  Miranda hugged the little girl, moved almost to tears and wishing there was something she could do for her beyond giving her a gift and a cake.

  And then it came to her. She knew what she had to do.

  She needed to track down the police officer on the motorcycle. Not to bring to the hospital with her—that would come later—but to help her find out what had happened to Lily’s mother. The man had resources at his disposal that she certainly didn’t have.

  All she needed to do, once she located him, Miranda thought, was to appeal to his sense of justice or humanity, or whatever it took to get him to agree to look for Lily’s mother.

  Smiling, she hugged Lily a little harder.

  Chapter Three

  Because she didn’t want to risk possibly getting the motorcycle officer in any sort of trouble by going to the precinct and asking about him, Miranda spent the rest of that evening and part of the night reviewing her viable options.

  By the next morning, Miranda decided that her best course of action was to literally track down the officer. That meant driving by the overpass where he’d been yesterday. She could only hope that he’d be there, waiting to ticket someone going over the speed limit.

  But when she swung by the area that afternoon, after her shift was over, the police officer wasn’t there.

  Disappointed, Miranda had to concede that not finding him there stood to reason. If an officer frequented the same spot day after day, word would quickly spread and drivers would either avoid the area altogether or at the very least be extra cautious about observing the speed limit.

  Still, as she drove slowly by the overpass, Miranda wondered how far away the police officer could be. Unless he had been relocated, there must be a certain radius he had to adhere to, so as not to cross into another cop’s territory, right?

  Giving herself a fifteen-minute time limit to find him, Miranda drove up one street and down another. She knew she was attempting to second-guess a man she knew absolutely nothing about, but at the moment she couldn’t think of an alternative.

  Fifteen minutes later Miranda sighed. The time was up and she still hadn’t found the officer. She didn’t want to be too late getting to the women’s shelter. She knew that Lily’s mother still hadn’t shown up—she’d called Amelia to check—and the little girl would be devastated if she didn’t come to see her as she’d promised.

  She had to go, Miranda thought. Maybe she’d come across the traffic cop tomorrow.

  Slowing down, Miranda did a three-point turn in order to head toward the street that would ultimately take her to the shelter.

  As she approached the red light at an intersection, a fleeting glint from the left caught her attention. The setting sun was reflecting off some sort of metal.

  Miranda turned her head in that direction, and found the sun was hitting the handlebars of a motorcycle.

  A police motorcycle.

  His motorcycle.

  Although the officer was wearing a helmet, and virtually all police motorcycles in Bedford looked alike, something told her that this particular officer was the one who had pulled her over yesterday. Pulled her over and didn’t give her a ticket. Miranda could feel it in her gut.

  When the light turned green, instead of driving straight ahead, she deliberately eased her car to the left, into the next lane. Far enough to allow her to make a left-hand turn.

  As she did so, she rolled down her window and honked her horn twice. Getting the officer’s attention, she waved her hand at the man, indicating that she wanted him to make a U-turn and follow her. She then mentally crossed her fingers that she hadn’t accidentally made a mistake, and that this was the same officer she’d interacted with yesterday.

  * * *

  Always alert when he was on the job, Colin tensed when he heard the driver honking. Seeing an arm come out of the driver’s window, waving to get his attention, he bit off a curse. Was the woman taunting him? Or did she actually want to get a ticket?

  And then, as he looked closer, he realized that it was the same car he’d pulled over yesterday. The one driven by that petite blonde with the really deep blue eyes.

  The one who had that birthday cake on the passenger seat.

  What was she doing here? Was she deliberately trying to press her luck? Because if she was, she was in for a surprise.

  Her luck had just run out, he thought.

  Biting off a few choice words under his breath, Colin made a U-turn and took off after her.

  Less than thirty seconds later, he realized that she wasn’t going anywhere. The woman with the soulful doe eyes had pulled over to the curb.

  Something was definitely off, Colin thought as he brought his motorcycle to a halt behind her vehicle.

  Training from his days on the force in Los Angeles had Colin approaching the car with caution. Every police officer knew that the first thirty seconds after a vehicle was pulled over were the most dangerous ones. If something bad was going to happen, it usually took place within that space of time.

  Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the pulled-over driver was harmless. It was that one other time that turned out to be fatal.

  Although he had volunteered for this detail, choosing to patrol the city streets on a motorcycle over riding around in a squad car with a partner, he was not unaware of the risk that came with the job. A risk that always had his adrenaline flowing and his breath backing up in his lungs for that short time that it took for him to dismount and approach the offending driver’s vehicle.

  If he had a partner, there would be someone close by who had his back. However, Owens, his last partner, had been killed on the job, and although Colin never said anything to anyone about it, that had weighed really heavily on him, and still did. After that tragic incident, he operated alone. Patrolling alone meant he had to watch out only for himself. He liked it that way.

  The second he peered into the passenger window and saw the driver, he knew that he was facing another kind of danger entirely.

  No one was going to die today, but it was still a risk.

  Miranda rolled down the passenger window and leaned toward him. “Hi. I wasn’t speeding this time,” she said, greeting him with a cheerful smile and a chipper demeanor he found almost annoyingly suspicious.

  He scowled at her. “No, you were just executing a very strange turn.”

  “I had to,” Miranda explained. “If I went straight and turned at the next light, by the time I came back, I was afraid that you’d be gone.”

  Only if I’d been lucky, Colin thought.

  Just what was this woman’s game? “And that would have been a problem because...?”

  She never missed a beat. “Because I had to talk to you.”

  The idea of just turning away and getting back on his motorcycle was exceedingly tempting, but for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Colin decided to hear this overly upbeat woman out.

  “You are persistent, aren’t you?” he retorted.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Miranda did her best to try to get the officer to lighten up a l
ittle and smile.

  His stoic expression never changed. “It is from where I’m standing.” He’d glimpsed her driver’s license yesterday and tried to recall the name he’d seen on it. Maybe if he made this personal, he’d succeed in scaring her off. “What do you want, Miriam?”

  “Miranda,” she corrected, still sounding annoyingly cheerful. “That’s okay, a lot of people get my name wrong at first. It takes getting used to.”

  “I have no intention of getting used to it,” he informed her. Or you.

  As far as he was concerned, the woman was really pushing her luck.

  “Look, I let you off with a warning yesterday,” he reminded her. “Would you like me to rescind that warning and give you a ticket?”

  Colin was fairly confident that the threat of a ticket would be enough to make her back off.

  “No. That was very nice of you yesterday. That’s the reason I came looking for you today.”

  She wasn’t making any sense. And then he remembered what she’d said yesterday about asking him to pay a visit to some ward at the hospital.

  That’s what this was about, he decided. Something about sick children. Well, he was not about to get roped into anything. Who knew what this woman’s ultimate game really was?

  “Look, I already told you,” he retorted. “I’m not the type to come see kids in a hospital. I don’t like hospitals.”

  Rather than look disappointed as he’d expected her to, the woman nodded. “A lot of people don’t,” she agreed.

  Okay, she was obviously stalking him, and this was over. “Well then, have a nice day,” Colin told her curtly, and then turned to walk back to his motorcycle.

  “I’m not here about the hospital,” Miranda called after him. “Although I’d like to revisit that subject at a later time.”

  Colin stopped walking. The woman had to be one of the pushiest people he’d ever encountered, not to mention she had a hell of a lot of nerve.

  Against his better judgment, he found himself turning around again to face her. “And just what are you ‘here’ about?” he asked.

  There was absolutely nothing friendly in his voice that invited her to talk. But she did anyway.