Sam shook his head. “I’ve had better days. If I hadn’t had a date planned, I’d probably have grabbed a burger and worked straight through.”
“You have to go back to work after dinner?” She turned, suddenly aware of the cramped quarters, of how firm his square shoulders felt against hers.
“Afraid so. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
Jessica tilted her head. “Such as…the auction?”
“Such as your adorable daughter.” He laughed. “Surely you don’t think I’d refer to the bachelor auction as pleasant.”
“It’s going to be fun. You get to meet someone new, and it won’t cost you anything. What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t like being set up. And this screams of trouble.”
Amy mumbled quietly, and Jessica saw her bear on the floor. “It’s too far, sweetie, I can’t reach it. I’ll get it when we stop.” Jessica settled back into the seat, wondering if Sam could overlook her past enough to ask her on a real date. “I understand how you feel. A few friends are determined to find me the perfect husband, and the results have been atrocious. I’d just as soon stay single the rest of my life if they are examples of today’s average single man.”
“And you think I should be excited to throw myself out in the public eye for this kind of scrutiny?”
She laughed. “You’re a brave and courageous servant of the community. I’m sure you can handle one date.”
“I don’t see you putting yourself up for sale.”
Amy made a noise that sounded like a sick horse.
“If there had been any men on the committee, maybe they would have suggested we include bachelorettes, too.”
Amy said something again, a little louder.
“That’s a poor excuse.” Sam teased. “What’s Amy saying?”
“She wants to see the man on the horse. You know, the statue of the founder of Colorado Springs. You don’t have to…”
Sam turned toward the life-size statue of General William Palmer in the middle of the intersection at Nevada and Platte. Amy clapped. “She knew right where we were. That’s amazing.”
“And what’s your excuse? You didn’t even know what the fund-raiser was until Adam and Kate’s engagement party. Your mother is even helping. You could’ve given her suggestions.”
He didn’t say a word.
“So maybe you’d like to serve on the next committee?”
“To help raise money to educate victims about domestic abuse?” He didn’t even pause to think about it. “Sure. With the increase of domestic abuse, it’s long past time we do something. With all of the statistics and research available, I’ll never understand why anyone stays in an abusive relationship.”
Jessica couldn’t respond. He had asked her time and again after the accident how she got the bruise on the left side of her face. Something about it didn’t fit with her other injuries. She hadn’t told him the truth then, and she wouldn’t now.
Sam drove to the restaurant, a renovated firehouse in Manitou Springs, a quiet little town built into the tight valley of the rocky mountains. “I thought this might be an easier place to talk. It’s not nearly as busy as restaurants in the city.” Inside, the owner greeted Sam by name, and he in turn introduced Jessica and Amy.
Jessica took the opportunity to make a professional contact, giving her title at the shelter. “We hold fund-raisers throughout the year to support the education and counseling of victims of domestic abuse.” She explained how the shelter operated and started to go into their mission.
“I’m familiar with the shelter, and their mission,” the gentleman said. “I’ll do more than a gift certificate. I’d like to make a donation.”
Jessica couldn’t hold back her surprise. “Thank you, we would appreciate any support you could offer.” She handed him her business card with a promise to include him on the list of donors at the bachelor auction.
Jessica perused the former firehouse. She showed Amy the play area including a child-size fire engine, and introduced her to the two children at the Lego table. While she and Sam waited for a table to open up, they watched the kids play. The two other children were obviously friends, as they chattered together, trying to get Amy to talk.
Sam tipped his head to ask the question quietly. “Does she talk to the other children at her child-care center?”
“Not really. I’ve asked her pediatrician about it, but he’s not concerned. She was quiet before the accident, and it didn’t get better afterward. She’s an observer. She interacts. She just doesn’t talk much.”
“Does she talk to you at home?”
“Of course she does.” She couldn’t help the defensive tone that accompanied her answer. “She’s simply shy.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Sam looked tired and she felt bad for snapping at him. “I’m sorry, too,” she said with a wry smile. “It’s just that I feel guilty for leaving her at the center. It’s hard not to, when child care is one of the benefits. I thought it would be nice to have her close to me all day. With the money saved, I’m almost ready to start looking for our own house. I wonder sometimes if the turnover of children with so many residents coming and going is good for her, or if a small setting, like a family child-care home, would be better. Yet Deanne gives her so much love and attention, I can’t ignore that either. Even I can’t give Amy as much as I’d like to, after fighting back pain all day.” She looked up and realized that Sam was patiently listening to her. “I wish you’d stop me when I carry on like that.”
“I’ve never met anyone who can say so many words in one breath. Besides, it gives me a chance to know more about you.”
Jessica felt a small pang of disappointment. “Maybe I’d like to know something about you.” Something besides the fact he had no understanding of living with domestic abuse or the challenges of being a single mother.
“Sam, your table is ready.” The hostess collected two menus and a children’s packet from the conductor’s booth.
“Amy, come on, we’re going to eat now.” Jessica took her little girl’s hand, aware of Sam following them. He had some nerve judging her. She recalled all too clearly the days when she’d felt as if she could never overcome the challenges ahead of her. That feeling of incompetence flooded her now.
The table had the privacy and ambience that she’d want if Sam hadn’t made her feel as if she couldn’t do anything right.
Sam lifted Amy into the booster seat and set the packet in front of her. She grabbed the crayon and whispered to Jessica.
“Can you tell Sam what color that is, Amy?”
She held the crayon up and smiled.
Sam chuckled. “I love the color red. Can you color me a picture?” Then, as if sensing Jessica’s annoyance, he cleared his throat and wiped the smile from his face.
Jessica stared at the open menu, trying to hide her inner misery from his probing stare. Her throat tightened and her heart squeezed as she realized she actually cared what Sam thought of her. She wanted to prove to him that the victim he’d met so long ago was strong enough to help other women in the same situation.
Sam reached his hand out to touch hers. “Jessica, I wasn’t criticizing. Mom says I was born a detective. I never