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He gripped his glass so tightly he thought it might shatter. He'd come back to Landing with the best of intentions. He was beginning to wonder if he was destined to relive the past without a chance to change the outcome.
"The lady at the church was wrong to say those words, Bonnie,'' he said slowly. "I knew your mama. She was very sweet and pretty. I haven't seen it yet, but I think you have her smile."
The solemn little girl brightened a little. "I thought Mama was pretty, too. When she came to see me, she would let me brush her hair. When she had to leave, she would cry. She said they were good tears. Her 'I love you' tears, she said. Why does crying mean you love someone?"
"I don't know."
She took the last bite of the biscuit.
"Do you want some more soup?" he asked.
"No." She rubbed her tummy. "I'm full."
He noticed the dark shadows under her eyes. If her bedding had been as disgusting as her clothing, she probably hadn't been sleeping very much. It was still cold at night and he suspected Mrs. Jarvis didn't provide much in the way of blankets for her young charge. But first he had to find out what the little girl knew.
"Bonnie, do you have any family?"
She shook her head. "Mama's dead. Mrs. Jarvis said she's never coming back." Bonnie blinked several times, then picked at the tablecloth. "I miss her."
"I know, honey. There's no one else?"
"I asked Mama about my father once. It made her cry sad tears." Bonnie took a drink of milk. "She said we didn't need him."
Justin swirled his glass of whiskey. The bastard had probably run out on Laurie when he'd learned she was pregnant. Figured. The same thing had happened to his mother. He watched Bonnie, hoping the town would treat her better than it had treated him. Not for a single day had he been allowed to forget who he was and what his mother did for a living.
She yawned widely.
"All right, little girl. Let's get you to bed."
He helped her down from the chair and escorted her into her bedroom. When she climbed up onto the mattress, her shirttails flapped around her skinny legs exposing the back of her thighs and three ugly bruises. Justin balled his hands into fists. The marks could have been caused accidentally, but he didn't think so. The child had been beaten.
Bonnie settled on her back and stared up at him. He pulled the covers to her chin.
"You warm enough?" he asked.
"Uh-huh."
"I'm going to be right next door. You holler if you need anything."
"Am I going back with Mrs. Jarvis tomorrow?"
She reached her hand up and brushed her hair out of her face. Without stopping to consider the action, Justin caught her small fingers in his. He squeezed gently. "You're never going back to her, Bonnie. I promise."
Big blue eyes held his as she seemed to weigh his words. There wasn't a lot of trust in her expression, Uttle hope for a better fate than the one she'd endured. He knew how that felt. It would take time for her to learn to trust again.
"Good night." He released her hand and stood. After turning down the lantern in her room, he retreated to his side of the door and shut it partway. He sat himself at the table once more and stared at his half-eaten dinner, but his appetite had deserted him.
He would keep his word to the child. He wouldn't send her back to Mrs. Jarvis. But what was he going to do with her? He knew firsthand exactly how Landing treated the less fortunate who lived here.
He leaned back in his chair and sipped his whiskey. He wasn't that half-grown boy who'd been taunted at school, he reminded himself. He was the sheriff now. He would do everything in his power to make sure Bonnie didn't suffer the same fate he had. She deserved better and he was going to make sure she got it.
"Well, you can imagine how shocked I was." Colleen pulled off her gloves and set them on the counter.
It was early yet. Not many customers were in the store. Megan stared at her sister and tried to remember the last time she'd seen Colleen up and dressed at this time of day. Her dark brown cloak, matching hat and gloves were of the latest style. Megan had ordered them and knew exactly how much they cost. If not for the inheritance left them by then-father, Colleen would be hard-pressed to buy her expensive clothes. Megan wondered how her brother-in-law felt about his wife spending so much money on what he would no doubt consider frivolities. Not that he would tell Colleen to stop. Not many people were willing to stand up to her sister's temper and vicious tongue.
