Last of the Red-Hot Riders (19 page)

She swallowed. Colorado, where Ava had trained. Ava had said it was hard, the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she'd learned so much. Learned enough to know that she could do it and be good at it—and also that she was more in love with Trace than in chasing her dream. She'd hopped on the back of his motorcycle and they'd traveled across the country, seeing everything she'd always dreamed of seeing. Now Ava was married, trying to get pregnant. Was madly in love with her husband, and Trace with her. Cameron felt her heart beating hard.

“I don't need to go to Colorado,” she said slowly, and Harper gasped. Anna stared at her in distress.

“No, it's not because of you,” she told her sister. “It's because of me. But thanks,” she said to Declan. “You're a true friend to try to help me.”

“Not really trying to help you. I'm trying to help Saint.” Declan shrugged one big shoulder. “I figure the sooner you leave Hell, the sooner my buddy gets back to being the hard-ass, work-driven son-of-a-bitch he used to be. Used to be,” he said, “before he ever set eyes on you.”

“Don't listen to him,” Harper said later when they were at the bungalow. Anna was watching classic Disney movies with Michael. They were sharing a bowl of popcorn, companionably engrossed in the movie. “Declan is adorable, he's really handsome, but he's got a headful of opinions sometimes.”

Cameron had been a tiny bit hurt, but she'd also recognized that Declan had a point: She needed to leave Hell. “At one time, I thought the two of you might have a thing for each other.”

“Oh, we do. That thing is professional courtesy and a little bit of extreme annoyance.” Harper grinned. “Sometimes he's like a big brother, and sometimes I think he's nothing like a brother. Not one bit.” She thought about that for a minute as she folded Cameron's clothes into her suitcase. “When I say he's like a big brother sometimes, I mean he's aggravating like a brother. I definitely have never had brotherly feelings for him.”

“What kind of feelings do you have right now?” Cameron was very curious about the dynamics between Harper and Declan. The beautiful blonde seemed totally unaware of the admiration the big SEAL obviously felt toward her.

“Right now I'm pissed at him. You can file that under one of those moments when he's acting like a pain-in-the-behind. And when this happens, I just don't go around him for a few days until he's worked it out of his system.” Harper laughed. “Sometimes it takes him a day or two, but he eventually figures out that I'm not looking for a brother. Or a father figure.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Not a thing. Why would I be?” She smiled. “I've already had my big romance. And I've got the only prize I ever wanted from that failed romance.” She glanced into the other room at Michael, her face proud. “Once I had a child, I realized I really don't need a husband in my life, or a man to boss me around, try to change me. I fit my life to Michael's. One day he'll grow up and move away, but by then, I'll be ready to start my next adventure.
Grandmotherhood.”
She grinned in anticipation. “And traveling. I want to travel to Europe so badly I dream about it at night. But that's for later. Right now, I'm enjoying being a mother and chasing this rodeo dream.”

Cameron glanced at Anna. Her sister needed to return home, needed to finish high school. She wouldn't get home unless Cameron took her. At any bus stop, Anna might hop off and disappear, probably off to California since it seemed she'd developed stars in her eyes. Cameron remembered the driving force that had propelled her out and away from their family. Anna was lonely now, alone with their parents—though Edith was, to be fair, doing the best she could to be a mother

Declan thought she needed to leave, but Colorado didn't necessarily have to be the destination. Deep inside herself, she recognized that she and Saint had come to an uncomfortable place. Neither of them was working on their goals any longer, not with any heart, anyway. And it was their goals that had always sustained and guided them.

A knock on the door sounded, and Harper got up to answer it. “I don't know what you're going to do,” she told Cameron, “but I'm taking over Judy's team. Be prepared for fireworks of the Judy variety.”

Cameron wanted to hear more about those plans. It was completely like Harper to decide to take charge. She wouldn't be daunted by Ivy's meddling or Judy's disappearance.

Cameron wasn't either, but she recognized it was time to get back to basics, what she'd come here for—and that didn't mean a tall, hunky cowboy who made love to her until all she wanted to do was find her way to his arms every night.

That same cowboy who was even now on a sabbatical to put distance between them.

“Steel,” Harper said. “Come in.”

He filled the living room with his cowboy hat and strong, imposing figure. “Hi, kids,” he said to Anna and Michael.

“Hello, Sheriff,” they answered politely, not caring to be disturbed from their movie.

Cameron waved the sheriff into the kitchen to roost at the table with her and Harper. She put a teakettle on to boil. “This is a pleasant surprise, Sheriff.”

He grinned. “No one ever says that to the sheriff and means it.”

“Oh, goody. I assume that means deputies, too.”

“People will be happy to see you when you're wearing the badge. Have you filled out the paperwork? I thought I might pick it up from you.”

She swallowed. “Not quite yet. I'm getting to it.”

He nodded. “There's plenty of time. No need to make a rush decision if you're not sure.”

“I'm thinking about doing my training in Houston,” she said quietly as Harper got out teacups and the sugar bowl, along with some napkins.

Steel perched comfortably on his stool. “It's always nice to be near family,” he said jovially.

She relaxed a little over his apparent lack of
disappointment.
“I'm glad you suggested law enforcement. I really am.”

“You're suited for it. Of course, it got me in a lot of trouble with my girl. She thinks I poached you.” He grinned. “It's good for Judy to get her feathers ruffled on occasion. In fact, I'm preparing to ruffle her feathers some more.”

Harper set a big cup in front of Steel. “You are?”

“I'm going to pay her a call in Austin. I can't live without my mayor any longer,” Steel said, taking a cookie when Cameron set a dish of Hattie's homemade best in front of him. “Mmm, butterscotch chip cookies. Nothing like Hattie's cookies.”

Cameron and Harper glanced at each other, worry plainly etched on both their faces. Harper raised a brow, and Cameron looked back at the sheriff, thinking fast. It was clear the big man had made up his mind; this was basically a social call to inform Judy's team of his decision. He sat on the stool in his blue-checked western shirt, white buttons marching in orderly fashion down the front. He'd removed his gray hat and set it aside politely, showcasing a head of steely gray curls he kept fairly short to his scalp. Unlike Saint and Declan, who'd pretty much eschewed the barber after their SEAL days of tightly shorn scalps.

“Sheriff,” Cameron said slowly, “I'm not sure Judy wants company right now.”

He looked at her. “See, that's the funny thing. I've developed a pretty good sixth sense as sheriff over the years, and that sense has been telling me that you two knew more about Judy than you were letting on.”

Great. He'd come here to ferret information, which he clearly knew they had; had, in fact, suspected all along. Judy was holding him off with small details and light chatter on the infrequent occasions that they spoke, and Steel had obviously come to the conclusion that he'd given her sufficient time for her retreat. Anyway, it was unfair that Steel had been suffering under the illusion that Judy had “gone off” him, when Cameron knew full well Judy loved her sheriff madly.

Judy just wanted to suffer alone, and she wanted whatever loss of beauty she might be experiencing to be kept from Steel. One because she loved him, and two because like any woman, Judy wanted her man to think she was beautiful. Judy was stubborn that way. It wasn't that she didn't trust Steel to love her under any condition; Cameron thought it was probably more an old-school desire baked deep in the beauty queen to always be seen at her best, to keep herself attractive for her man, and to not be viewed in Hell as a mayor who might be falling apart in some form or fashion.

“Okay, ladies, give it up,” Steel said, his blue eyes deep and sincere. “Cameron, I'd sneak you out to Saint's private lair if you wanted to talk to him. I deserve the same courtesy.”

Cameron hesitated. “Steel, we can't talk about Judy. She's our boss, and our friend. You know that.”

He nodded. “Very honorable and loyal of you. Go ahead and tell me.” He bit into his cookie. “You of all people know that my girl isn't always guided by the best ideas.”

Cameron glanced at Harper. She thought she saw a little mistiness swimming in Harper's eyes. Cameron was feeling it herself. It was hard to see the sheriff suffer, especially when she knew Judy was suffering too.

“Steel, we love you, you know we do,” Cameron said. “But Judy's situation is private. We couldn't tell you if you locked us in your jail without food or Hattie's cookies.”

He shook his head. “So I'm going there with no information.”

“That's what you'll have to do, if you decide to.” Cameron glanced out at Anna and Michael, who were still totally engrossed in the Disney movie. She could hear the wonderful music of
Frozen
spiraling around the den and into the kitchen. “Tell me something, Steel. Would you really advise anyone to infringe on Saint's private time?”

He pondered that for a moment. “She's been gone over a month. Six Saturdays. Forty-three days. I won't tell you how many hours.” His tanned face bore a stoic, yet somehow devastated, cast. “I have to know what's going on. Why did she leave me?”

Harper flew to get a tissue,
surreptitiously
wiping at her eyes in the corner of the kitchen. Cameron sighed. “How about if I call and ask her when she might be coming back?”

“I've asked her. She says soon. That was two weeks ago,” he said, steeped in misery, which was a hard thing to see in the usually jovial, stouthearted sheriff.

Cameron fixed his tea the way she knew he liked it and set it before him. “I'm going to take Anna home tomorrow. When you talk to Judy again, tell her that things are changing pretty fast in Hell and that we need her back.”

He blinked. “That would bring her running back in a hurry. She'd hate the idea that her team is breaking up.”

“She shouldn't be pressured,” Cameron said quickly. “That's not my intent. Nor is it what I think you want.” She wasn't about to pressure Saint, or herself for that matter, to try to figure out what they'd had between them, and if there was anything between them that hinted at more to come. “But if Judy needs a reason to fight, a reason to realize that Hell needs her, her team is probably the best excuse you could give her.”

He nodded. “Unless it was Ivy, which would bring her back in a heartbeat just to butt heads with her.”

“I don't think you need an Ivy card. I think the actual truth is fine. If she can come home, she will. If she can't yet, you may have to be patient a little while longer,” she said gently. “You've always known there was a lot of weather in loving Judy. And any relationship goes through patches where things change and require adjustments.”

“I know,” Steel said, “but I want to be with her through whatever she's going through.” He looked at Harper, who'd finished drying her eyes in the corner. Then he met Cameron's gaze again. “It's bad, isn't it?”

Cameron swallowed. “I honestly don't know that. All I know is what Ivy's told us, and I don't know that Ivy's told us the truth.”

His brows lowered. “Are you saying that even you don't actually know why Judy left and has been gone so long?”

“Only what Ivy's told us.”

Steel jumped to his feet. “Ivy would say anything to hurt Judy. You have to look out the window if Ivy says it's raining, because it's likely a hundred degrees and sunny as hell!”

“Hang on, Steel,” Harper said. “We're only telling you what we know. Which is that we don't really know anything.”

He sighed, drawing himself inward. “You know, after all these years, I feel like Judy should have trusted me with whatever's bothering her.”

“People are funny about some things,” Cameron said, slipping him another splash of tea. “And Judy's got a lot on her mind.” She wondered if Steel knew that Ivy and Judy shared a great deal of property, even the Honky-tonk; surely there were records around somewhere that Steel might have seen in the courthouse. A sudden thought occurred to her. “Steel, as I recall, there was some kind of litigation between Judy and Ivy, with the result being that Judy wasn't to go to the Honky-tonk for a year.”

He shrugged. “The year was up a while back.”

“What was the fracas all about?”

“Oh.” He sipped his tea. “Ivy was threatening to tell something Judy didn't want known, and Judy took a little bit of renegade vengeance into her own hands.”

“How?” Harper asked, settling onto a stool, her fascination getting the best of her.

“I don't know what Ivy was going to reveal, but Judy sent a few busloads of Holy Rollers out there to preach the end times on the Honky-tonk property.” Steel laughed. “As you might imagine, folks who came out there to carouse were mighty startled to be hearing a lecture on how they were going to hell if they didn't change their ways. Ivy couldn't complain about her visitors, because it's a public establishment, and besides, she's too far out in the county for city ordinances to apply. It was the funniest thing. Wrecked the Honky-tonk's business for some good time. That is not the kind of reputation Ivy's been cultivating all these years.”