Page 3 of Singing For His Kiss

Madeline whispered something too quiet for Elizabeth to hear over the whine of sea breeze in ears she couldn’t feel anymore. The man tapped Madeline on her nose. “I was going to ask her that.” He turned to Elizabeth. “My name is James Rhyder. I live around the corner and have been a local here on and off for six years. I have people who can vouch that I'm a safe person and won’t do anything to hurt you. We can go to the local supermarket and talk to Kelly. Or we can go to the coffee shop and talk to Denise…”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Thank you, but I really need to get going. The town is a long way away. And I already told you, I don’t accept charity.”

“I can’t let you just walk away in this weather. My conscience won’t allow it.”

Her gaze slid to the faraway town. Just like Heaven, it was near unreachable. Another shudder wracked her body.

“Come for Madeline’s sake. She asked me to invite you. Please.”

The pang in his voice had her looking from the man to the little girl. She could ignore the shadow of anguish in the man’s eyes, but Madeline was another matter. She looked even smaller and more fragile as she peeked at Elizabeth over the collar of his jacket. If eyes could speak, this little girl told her a story. Elizabeth’s heart not only lurched, it twisted.

“You can get cleaned up. Have a shower and get warm. I can’t have the woman who saved my child becoming ill.”

Elizabeth shook her head. This was a bad idea on so many levels. She really needed to keep moving. “I really don’t think…”

“I need to get Madeline warm and dry as quickly as I can. And it’s not good out here in the wind. For either of you.”

He pressed Madeline closer to his chest, as though he was holding the most precious of packages. That was because he was. He did look sincere. And he did look like he was suffering.

And she was near frozen solid.

There was a smattering of sand across Madeline’s forehead. Elizabeth’s fingers itched to brush them off. “Please come home with us.” Her little girl’s voice was so frail and thin, it wove around her heart. She shuddered. If Madeline was half as chilled to the bone as she was, she’d soon be an ice statue. Although she did have the warmth of that broad, solid chest to help warm her up.

Elizabeth glanced around. She was isolated here. The beach stretched for miles either side. Grey clouds had closed in, and the first droplets of rain just started to fall. The wind chill factor was sub-arctic. Madeline cowered into her father’s chest as the wind blasted them anew.

Logically, the best move would be to accept his hospitality. Get dry. Get warm. And get the hell out. On the surface, that was all he offered, but there was a certain part of her that looked for the angle. For the ulterior motive. An offer too good to be true often was.

But still, she was saturated. Freezing to death and really needed to get dry. She wouldn’t last much longer out in this weather.

Besides, there would have to be a Mrs. James Rhyder at home. Another woman offered a modicum of safety. She wouldn’t stay long anyway. She hadn’t put enough kilometres between her and what she’d just left.

Madeline shuddered again, and James didn’t look as though he was going to move unless she agreed at least to accept the coat he offered. And the child needed warmth and dryness.

She sighed, ignoring the nervous lump that settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. “I would be pleased to accept your invitation.”

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