How To Steal The Lawman's Heart

Robyn grinned and gave him a big hug.

Five minutes later Alyssa returned, dressed in a short denim skirt and orange tank top. Although he wished she had chosen something different, he bit his tongue. Fighting over her clothes only increased the tension between them.

Robyn chattered happily on the short drive to the center, filling the silence between Alyssa and Trent. As he pulled into a parking spot, he received a call from the dispatcher. Trent spoke briefly into his radio before hustling the girls from the car.

A semitrailer had collided with an SUV on the highway leading into town, setting off a chain reaction involving at least seven vehicles. He didn’t know what the truck was carrying, but the driver had lost his load. Worse, there were reports of injuries, some life-threatening.

“I have an emergency, so I won’t be able to get you girls settled,” Trent said apologetically as he signed them in. The gray-haired woman seated behind the reception desk assured him she would get his daughters into their proper groups.

“I’ll pick you up at four,” Trent promised. He kissed Robyn’s cheek, then stepped back. He’d learned from painful experience not to show affection to Alyssa in public.

“Bye, Daddy,” Robyn exclaimed, then hurried off to join a group of girls her age.

Alyssa simply stood with her eyes downcast, her arms across her chest. She heaved a sigh and turned her back to him. He wished he could say something to make her feel better, but nothing came to mind. Besides, he needed to get to the scene of the accident.

The grandmotherly woman caught his eye and nodded. “Go ahead and leave, Chief. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she gets in with a group of kids.”

Having no choice, Trent took one last look at Alyssa, who was now staring out the window, and trotted out the door to his vehicle. He hoped he was right and that her friends would welcome her again.

* * *

Carmen put the finishing touches on her art project, then stepped back to get a final look at it. Not bad considering she hadn’t sculpted anything in years. She hadn’t known what type of material she would find, so she’d planned a variety of projects to interest kids of all ages. She’d been pleasantly surprised by the supplies at the center.

As expected, there was paint, brushes and paper. But there also was clay, string, foil, beads and other items needed to make jewelry.

She heard a knock on the open door. “You open for business?”

Carmen smiled at Joni and looked down at the little girls clustered around her. “You bet. Come on in.”

“I’ve got four budding artists for you. Mia and Maya are twins. This is Juliet. And finally Robyn. They’re really excited to do crafts with you.”

Carmen managed to hide her shock at seeing the chief’s daughter again so soon. Given his dislike of Carmen, she couldn’t imagine he would want her near his child. She wondered how long it would be before news of her volunteering at the center reached his ears. This being Sweet Briar, she bet it would be under forty-eight hours.

“I remember you. We saw you at the cemetery. I’m Robyn.”

“I remember you, too. You look so cute today.” The young girl giggled and preened while Carmen quickly complimented the other girls so they wouldn’t feel left out. And they did look adorable in their short sets and eager smiles. “Are you ready to have fun?”

“Yes,” they answered loudly.

“Well, then, let’s get started.” After each girl had chosen a bright smock from the rainbow selection hanging on hooks by the door, she led them to a table where supplies were arranged. She grabbed a hunk of clay and kneaded it while explaining the project. She then stepped back as the girls charged toward the table. Well, three of the girls charged. Robyn held back.

“Is everything okay?”

Robyn shook her head. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay,” Carmen said, giving an encouraging smile. “Just jump right in. Art is supposed to be fun.”

Robyn gnawed on her bottom lip. “What if I do it wrong?”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s art. There is no right or wrong.”

“Everything has a right or wrong. The only people who don’t believe that are the ones doing wrong.”

Wow. Carmen was surprised to hear such judgmental words coming out of the mouth of one so young and innocent. She had no doubt Robyn was parroting what she heard regularly, just as she’d done at the cemetery. “That may be true in some things, but trust me, there is no way for you to get this art project wrong. Whatever you do will be beautiful.”

“What if I mess it up?”

Carmen had not expected to have to counsel kids. If she’d known it would be this hard to get a kid to use clay, string and paint, she might have taken her chances with the boys currently engaged in a raucous game of basketball. But she needed to reach this child. She’d grown up with pressure to live up to the Shields name and had cracked big-time. If she could help this girl avoid the same fate, it might be worth what she’d endured.

She knelt down so that she and Robyn were eye to eye and took the little girl’s hands. “If you mess it up, we can fix it. That’s the beautiful thing about art. You can work around the mistakes so that they look intentional.”

“I don’t know.” The little girl looked longingly at the table where her friends were elbow-deep in clay. Someone had knocked over a plastic cup of yellow paint, and a saturated paper towel lay forgotten in the middle of the puddle. Apparently, Robyn’s friends didn’t share her fear of making mistakes. And they definitely had no interest in cleaning up their messes.

“Well, I do. Let’s get you started on your flower.” Carmen pinched off a bit of clay and handed it to Robyn, giving the girl an encouraging smile. She then grabbed a hunk of clay for herself and began working it. After a brief hesitation, Robyn grabbed her clay and started to pound it into shape.

“Like this?” she asked, her little hands kneading the clay.

“Just like that.” Carmen offered the child a rolling pin. “Make it flat. It’ll be easier for you to shape.”

Robyn’s brow wrinkled in concentration as she worked. A few minutes later she grinned. “It’s working.”

“Yes, it is.”

“This is fun,” she said, giggling.

“I knew you could do it.”

Carmen circled the room, checking the progress of the other budding artists and helping newcomers get started. She gave a word of encouragement here and there, but for the most part, she stood back and let the kids create their masterpieces without interfering. The noise level stayed at a steady murmur punctuated by bursts of laughter. Although Carmen chatted with the other children, her attention never strayed far from Robyn.

The kids’ enthusiasm was contagious and ideas began bubbling inside her. Most of the kids in her room were grammar school age. But she really wanted to attract the older crowd. And she had just the thing to do so.

Joni had given her what she’d called the ten-cent tour that morning. The center was equipped with everything from a computer lab to a gym with a full-size basketball court, and a six-lane pool. Although all the walls were clean and painted bright colors, the decor was unimaginative.

Carmen had offered to design a mural for each of the rooms and one big one for the exterior of the building. Joni had quickly accepted. Carmen would have a better chance of getting older teens involved in art if they worked on something more exciting than the Popsicle sticks and spray-painted macaroni the six-year-olds loved. Murals would definitely do the trick.

She made her way back to Robyn, who was frowning at her project. The little girl noticed Carmen and her bottom lip trembled. She swiped at her eyes. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“It’s not ruined. We can fix it. And if not, you can make another one.”

“I don’t know. Daddy always says to do it right the first time because life doesn’t give you a do-over.”

“That’s true in a lot of things, but not art.”

“Are you sure? Because that’s not what Daddy says and my daddy is smart.”

“I’m positive. I’m sure your daddy wasn’t talking about art. He’s not an artist, too, is he?”

Robyn shook her head. “He’s a policeman.”