Warning Signs (Love Inspired Suspense) by Katy Lee Page A

father” confession.
    “My mother wouldn’t let me sign around her,” Miriam signed with slow, deliberate effort. “She said it embarrassed her. She said it made me look like a freak. She said I was the reason my dad didn’t stick around. He didn’t want me because of my deafness.” Miriam lowered her hands to her chest as though it ached. Her gray eyes pooled, and Owen took a step closer. Her hands rose to stop him and to ask the question he didn’t want to hear. “Do you not want your son because he is deaf?”
    Owen gulped at her question. He shook his head to deny her words, but from where she stood it probably looked that way. How could he tell her the truth, though? And why did it feel so important to him that he did? What was this woman to him? Saying she was nothing didn’t feel right. Whether he embraced their connection or not, he had to admit there was one, and maybe, just maybe, he was here on this island for more than a drug investigation.
    * * *
    Owen whipped around to the faucet. He turned his back on her and her question, and Miriam took that as his answer.
    He didn’t want his son because of his deafness. She bit the inside of her cheek to mask the pain she felt in her heart for that little boy. She knew firsthand how lonely a home could be when there was no one to talk to and no one who wanted to make the effort to learn how.
    Except Owen had learned sign language. And not just a few signs to get by. He was fluent. Why would he make the effort if he didn’t plan to use it to speak with his son?
    She pondered that as she picked up her knife to finish the salad. Regardless of her disappointment in his fathering, she had a dinner to make. Miriam had her first guest in her home. He wasn’t there for hospitality, but she could still share a nice meal with him.
    Owen hadn’t mentioned any plans for dinner, but if he really meant what he’d said about not leaving her side, then that would include staying for dinner.
    She did need to speak with him about what exactly that would mean for later. As much as she loved having a guest up on her cliff, he couldn’t stay. That would not be a good idea or an appropriate situation for a single woman living on her own. First of all, it was against her godly character to put herself in such a situation. Second, even though she couldn’t hear the whispers from the islanders, she knew they would fly.
    Miriam had made sure Nick had adequate housing before she’d made the move with him for that reason. Even though their relationship was business related, having him there would not be appropriate. She’d found him an available cabin rental down at the pier. It was one of those cute little white clapboard things with a front porch that reminded her of summer camp. Plus, he had the best view overlooking the sea. She could have been very cozy in one of those cabins if she hadn’t had a house already.
    Owen sidled up, armed with a knife. She ceased her cucumber massacre with a pointed stare. He smirked and grabbed a tomato, and, with that, she guessed he was staying for dinner.
    Her blade fell in unison with his as they sliced and diced. Twice his elbow hit hers and she realized he was left-handed. She supposed she could have moved over a bit, but she kind of liked the tingling waves that traveled up her arm when he bumped her, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move over.
    With nothing left to cut, she grabbed the underside of the board to pick it up and scrape the veggies into the bowl with the waiting lettuce. Only, Owen grabbed the board at the same time, and before she could change their course, tomato and cucumber pieces headed in the wrong direction.
    Green and red diced veggies flew through the air like confetti at a Christmas fiesta. One by one, each piece landed in too many different places to warrant even an attempt at saving them. There was nothing to do but watch and accept the demise of her salad—and hospitality.
    She gave her best grin and