Lawman's Redemption (13 page)

“And you.” But he didn't want her for a friend. He wanted…more.

It seemed he'd lived his entire life wanting more. For a time with Sandra, he'd thought he'd hit the jackpot—a beautiful wife, an adorable daughter, enough money to make their every wish come true. And then he'd found out the beautiful wife loved his money but not him, and the adorable daughter belonged to someone else, and what did money matter if he didn't have someone to spend it on?

He wanted…

A grim feeling settled over him. He wanted. That said it all.

“Okay, so tell me about these people you won't let be friends,” Hallie said.

His first impulse was to argue the point with her, but he decided against it. Instead, he gestured toward the nearest couple. “That's Easy and Shay Rafferty. She owns the Heartbreak Café. He used to be a champion roper until an accident shattered his hip and cost him three fingers. Now he raises and trains horses. Next to them are Guthrie and Olivia Harris. They've got twin daughters and just had a son last spring, and now Olivia's pregnant again.”

“And they couldn't be happier,” Hallie murmured.

He didn't ask how she knew. It was so apparent on their faces that even a blind man couldn't miss it. “The blonde over there is Callie Sellers, the nurse-midwife who delivers all the babies around here. And the redhead with the body—” which couldn't
be seen for all the men around her “—is Isabella. She came to visit Callie in May and hasn't gone home yet.” Isabella was pretty, voluptuous, sexy and played at being nothing more than that, but Brady had spent enough years running away to recognize the signs in someone else.

“And who's that gorgeous charmer with the blond hair?” Hallie's sly look made it apparent the question was payback for the comment about Isabella's body.

“I've never been the least bit tempted by Isabella,” he remarked, gazing down at her.

“And I'm sure she's given you plenty of chances.”

“A few.” The redhead did make a habit of being extra…er, friendly whenever he saw her, but sultry, bold redheads weren't his style. “Your gorgeous charmer is Ethan James, Guthrie Harris's half brother, and he's dancing with his wife, Grace.”

He watched the Jameses for a moment. They'd met in a bar in Buffalo Plains, spent one night together and gone their separate ways. Sounded familiar. But then Grace had gotten pregnant and Ethan had come back to Heartbreak, and the rest was history. They'd both been scarred by their pasts and scared by their present, but they'd overcome all their hurts and fears and changed each other's lives in the most fundamental ways. More than anyone else, he envied them, because more than anyone else, he could relate to them—at least, as far as the scarred and scared part.

How slim were the chances that Hallie might possibly get pregnant from their two nights together?

So slim as to be nonexistent. Besides, a baby wouldn't change things. She didn't want to get married, and neither did he.

He just wanted.

Suddenly feeling restless and achy, he pushed away from the tree where he'd been leaning and took her hand. “Dance with me, Hallie.”

She nodded, and he led her across the grass and into the street, where he drew her close. She smelled like cool spring nights and delicate flowers, and she was warm and soft and fitted against him in all the right places. He clasped her right hand in
his, and her left hand rested on his shoulder, her fingers flexing, then relaxing.

The time and temperature sign above the bank showed that it was ninety-two degrees, and the air was heavy. Large fans borrowed from the feed store were set up on either side of the street, and from time to time a breeze quickened, ruffling hair and fluttering dresses. Bugs by the hundreds gathered in the halos of the streetlights. All in all, it wasn't an ideal party setting. He'd grown up with second-floor glimpses of ideal parties. Jim and Rita Marshall had been generous, gracious hosts, and they'd taken every opportunity to prove it. If their guests had only known….

But for all the less-than-gracious aspects of the scene tonight, there was only one thing he would change about it—when they left, he wouldn't say good-night to Hallie at the door, then go home to sleep alone.

She had let him in twice before and had invited him another time. What would it take to persuade her to ask again?

And what right did he have to persuade her to do anything? She wasn't the sort of woman a man played with, then walked away from. I got married three times, she'd told Lexy, and all I got was three divorces and a heart that can't break anymore. She deserved a man who could commit to her, who could trust her, one she could trust to be there for her now and always.

And all he could do was use her, then eventually walk away.

Tilting her head back, she gazed up at him. “You seem a thousand miles away.”

Just four hundred or so in Marshall City. And about nine blocks, at the motel. And a half mile, at her house. “Nope,” he lied. “I was just thinking you're the prettiest woman here tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said with a dubious smile. “Though I'm sure every one of these men would argue that point with you.”

He scowled at her. “Do I look like the sort of man people argue with?”

She laughed. “You look like a first-class phony. You act so tough and distant and unemotional, but underneath all that you're really a nice guy.”

“Have you considered that maybe it's the nice-guy stuff that's phony?”

“No,” she said, then rested her head on his shoulder again. Her answer was plain, simple, confident. He liked that.

After a moment's silence, she looked up again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I don't think even a gag would stop you. You're not just the beautiful sister. You're the tenacious one.”

“No, Kylie's the beautiful one. I'm the popular one.”

“I've seen Kylie, and while she's pretty, you're the beautiful one. Trust me.”

For an instant she looked…stricken? Anxious? Then she gently tugged his earlobe in admonishment. “You're distracting me. I want to ask you… When it's time for Lexy to go back to Texas, are you going to just let her go? Or are you going to stay in touch with her, let her come visit, let her continue to believe that you're her father?”

He'd half expected a question about his family, or the memory he never should have shared with her that afternoon. Now that she'd proven him wrong, he half wished she hadn't. He'd been brushing off questions about his family so long that he was an expert at it. He'd lied to his grandmother, his teachers, the pastor of their church, to Sandra, to Logan and even to himself.

But Lexy wasn't a subject to lie about, other than the necessary lie he was spinning out to the child herself. “Until I find out for sure that I'm not her father, I don't really have a choice, do I? I have to play the part, especially now that I've started.”

“Is that going to be so difficult? She told me you've been sending support checks every month since you left, so the financial obligation won't change. Only the emotional one.”

“Are you asking if I'm emotionally capable of being her father?” When she shrugged, so did he. “Like I said, I don't have a choice, do I?”

Truthfully, though he still felt awkward when alone with the kid, though he wished she looked and dressed like a normal teenage girl—normal for Buffalo Plains—and though he wished like hell that he didn't feel guilty every time he looked at her for leaving her to grow up with Sandra, he kind of liked the kid.
Well, maybe
liked
was too strong a word. He felt sorry for her. He believed he owed her something.

And he thought if he spent enough time with her, he could learn to love her.

And that could cost him more than he had to give.

“It matters to you whether she's your child, doesn't it?” Hallie asked softly, as if saying the words in a normal voice might have repercussions she wasn't prepared to face.

“Yes, it does.” There was nothing wrong with that. In general people loved their own children more than someone else's. It was the way of the world…so why was he ashamed of himself for admitting it?

It was impossible to tell from Hallie's expression whether she was ashamed of him, too. “Wouldn't DNA tests prove it?”

“Yes.”

“But…?”

He glanced at all the couples around them. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, although Isabella did raise her head from some cowboy's shoulder and give him a sultry smile and a wink. “Let's take a break.”

They made their way to the sidewalk, bought a pop for him and bottled water for her, then started away from the festivities. After four quiet blocks, they came to the Canyon County Public Library. It was an imposing building, sitting in the center of an entire block that was built up behind stone retaining walls to three feet above street level. Steps cut through the retaining wall and led to a walkway then to the main entrance, and stretching across the top of the wall was a sucker-rod fence, a cheaper alternative to wrought iron.

“I need to take some pictures of this,” Hallie remarked, drawing her fingers along the fence as they walked. When they reached the steps, she sat down, loosely clasped her hands and said, “Tell me the pros and cons of DNA testing.”

He stood in front of her, hands in his hip pockets because he didn't know what else to do with them, and shrugged. “Well, as you're probably aware, accuracy is always an issue. You'll find that defense attorneys are much more convinced of DNA's reliability if it proves their clients' innocence, just as prosecutors
are more convinced if it proves their defendants' guilt. However, scientists whose opinions aren't for sale in some courthouse believe it's
very
reliable, even foolproof, and they—”

“Tell me the pros and cons in relation to Brady and Lexy Marshall.”

He crouched in front of her, his knees resting on the edge of the first step. “What's she going to think if I ask for a vial of her blood because I think her mother's lied to her all these years?”

“That you don't want her any more than her mother does. That you're looking for a way out of having anything to do with her.”

“Exactly.”

“But what if the tests prove that it was
you
Sandra lied to, not Lexy? Then you'll know beyond a doubt that she's your daughter.”

“And she'll know beyond a doubt that I
needed
proof. That I couldn't—” he took a breath, then went on “—that I couldn't want her or love her without it. And how will that make her feel?”

“Still unwanted and unloved.”

He nodded. And he knew all too well how that felt. The insecurities, the lack of self-esteem, the sense of worthlessness, the guilt that there must be something wrong with him if his own parents couldn't love him. It had taken him a long time to accept that he hadn't deserved the things that had happened to him. He didn't know if Logan had ever accepted it.

“So…you're willing to act as Lexy's father, not knowing one way or the other, for…how long?”

The answer stuck in his throat and made his gut tighten. She was talking—
they
were talking about a commitment here, and that was something he'd avoided religiously for the past fourteen years. But it was a different kind of commitment, he assured himself. A kid couldn't destroy him the way a woman could. A kid couldn't break his heart.

Yeah, right.

Hallie was waiting for his answer. After rolling his neck to loosen the tension there, he gave it. “As long as she wants.”

Unexpectedly, she leaned forward, cupped his face in her palms and kissed him. It was as innocent as a kiss could be, her mouth pressed firmly to his for only seconds, and it felt as intimate as a kiss could be. Still holding him, she drew back and murmured, “Right answer.”

And then
he
kissed
her.
Hard, hungrily, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She made a small sound in her throat, a whimper, but when he tried to back off, she clung to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down onto the steps with her.

In milliseconds he was incredibly turned on, hard and hot, but he had enough presence of mind when she slid her hands down his back to catch hold of them and wrap his fingers tightly around hers even as he maneuvered to get still closer to her. Unfortunately, between the unyielding concrete steps and her snug-fitting dress, he couldn't get anywhere near close enough…which was just as well. It was a public street, after all, and it wouldn't look good to have the acting sheriff arrested for public indecency by one of his own deputies.

With a groan, he ended the kiss and rolled over to sit next to her on the steps. His breathing was ragged, and hers was labored, but not so much that she couldn't speak.

“Tell me something, Brady,” she murmured as she finished the task he'd started—taking down her hair—then combed her fingers through it. Clutching hairpins in one hand, she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists, and asked, “Why won't you let me touch you?”

T
hough she would have been the last to expect it, Lexy had had a good time with the kids. Elly Harris and her twin were there, and some girls her own age who lived in Buffalo Plains. They'd been nice enough—mostly interested in her hair and earrings and the stud in her nose—but they'd known each other all their lives. One evening wasn't long enough to bother trying to fit her in. And she was cool with that. She knew what it was like when they got new kids at school back in Texas. They had to stick around a while before they could become part of any group.

The grandmothers had been pretty nice, too, once they got used to her. She didn't really know Sandra's mother—Sandra said she was an embarrassment—and she didn't like Brady's mother. Rita Marshall was cold and sour as a lemon, and she didn't like kids in general or Lexy in particular. That had never bothered Lexy, though, because the old witch didn't like Sandra, either, or Brady. She didn't have a single picture of him in the house. Hell, even Sandra had kept some pictures of him.

But these grannies were different. They laughed a lot and
played with the kids, and she hadn't heard them scream at the kids to shut up even once all evening.

It wasn't even close to midnight, but the party was starting to break up. Ranchers and farmers had to get up early in the morning, Mrs. Tucker had said, so everyone was heading home. Enough of the kids had been picked up that she told Lexy to go ahead and find her father.

“Thank you, Miss Lexy,” the old lady said as Lexy slung her backpack over one shoulder. “We appreciate your help.”

“You're welcome.” She started to walk out, then turned back.

“Good night.”

“Good night, dear.”

There probably weren't twenty people still dancing, and Lexy couldn't find Brady or Hallie in the bunch. She did spot Shay, though, from the café in Heartbreak, and went up to her. “Hi. Um, have you seen my dad and Hallie?”

“No, hon, I haven't.” Shay glanced around, then asked loudly, “Has anyone seen Brady Marshall or Hallie Madison?”

A redhead glanced around the man she was plastered to. “Last time I saw Brady, he was heading down that way.”

“Thanks.” Lexy cut across to the street that ran parallel to Main and looked in the direction the redhead had pointed. It wasn't dark, but it wasn't nearly as well lit as right in front of the courthouse—not that she was scared. It just made it harder to see if they were down there. But, yeah, over on the left she could see someone, and he looked big and tall like Brady and wore dark clothes. Maybe he and Hallie had gone off to make out, she thought with a grin as she headed that way.

She'd gone about a block when she heard footsteps behind her. Quickly she spun around, but she couldn't see anyone. It was silly to get goose bumps over it, 'cause she was close enough to all those people to scream if something happened, and someone would surely come.

In the middle of the next block, she swore she heard voices—low, male, definitely behind her. But again when she turned, there was no one in sight. Maybe sound carried funny at night, or her imagination was running away with her. Or maybe someone really was following her and was hiding in the doorway of
some store back there. Part of her really, really wanted to go back to the grannies and the kids and wait there for Brady to come and get her, but that same part was scared to go back past where someone might be hiding. And now she could tell almost for sure that that was Brady up ahead. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of a big building, which meant Hallie was around there somewhere.

So instead of turning back, Lexy just walked faster, and the footsteps got faster, too. For the first time in ages she was glad she was tall like her dad, because it meant she could take really long steps and move really fast. As she reached the corner, she glanced back and saw two men less than half a block away, and with a cry she started running. “Brady! Hallie!”

He turned, and Hallie popped up from the steps where she'd been sitting. He took a half dozen steps toward Lexy, and she launched herself into his arms. “I came looking for you, and these men started following me, and when I stopped, so did they, and when I walked faster, they did, too, and it scared me!”

“It's all right,” he said, patting her shoulder kind of funny, like he didn't know how. “What men? Where did you see them?”

“Right back there,” she said, pointing, but of course they were gone. “Honest, they were there. There were two of them, and they followed me from the dance. At first I thought I was just imagining it, because every time I turned around, there was no one there, but then I saw them, right there by that sign, but now they're gone.”

Brady pushed her away, and she wanted really bad to cry, but then she saw he'd pulled a gun from its holster on his belt. “Hallie, you take Lexy and go to the sheriff's department and wait inside. I'm going to take a look around. Come on.”

He hurried them back, stopping at the sign she'd pointed out. There was an alley just a few feet away. Hallie started to tug on Lexy's arm, but she dug in her heels just for a moment. “Be careful,” she whispered.

He stopped at the entrance to the alley, looked back and smiled. “I always am.”

This time when Hallie pulled, Lexy went with her, too stunned
to protest. When she got home, she was going to mark this day in her journal.

For the first time in her whole entire life, her father had smiled at her.

 

Hallie and Lexy waited at the sheriff's office for nearly twenty minutes before Brady returned. He shook his head in response to their silent questions.

“I really did see somebody,” Lexy said, distress sharp in her voice.

“I'm sure you did,” he replied. “Maybe they got scared off when they realized you weren't alone, or it could have been some kids, just acting goofy. Whatever it was, don't wander off like that again, okay?”

“I just wanted to find you guys.”

“I understand, but next time wait for us to find you.”

Hallie stood nearby, silently willing him to say something more—
I worry about you; I don't want anything to happen to you; I need to know you're safe.
But he didn't seem inclined to go any further.

Then he surprised her. Though the action was as awkward as the comforting he'd offered Lexy on the sidewalk, he slid his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. Almost immediately he stepped away, opened the door and gruffly said, “Let's go home.”

Hallie followed Lexy out the door with a knot in her throat.

It was a short, silent drive to her house. When Brady shut off the engine and opened his door, she said, “You don't have to get out.”

He gave her a level look, one brow raised, then climbed out and shut the door. Not only did he walk her to the door, he insisted on going inside and checking the house. He really did believe Lexy, Hallie realized, and was taking no chances. Though she offered a half-hearted protest, she was glad he didn't listen. She really did believe Lexy, too, and the incident had left her a little shaken.

“You're not going anywhere tonight, are you?” he asked when they'd returned to the front door.

“At midnight? Where would I go?” She smiled unsteadily.

“No, I'm in for the night.”

“Lock the door behind me.”

“I always do. Hey, don't scare me, okay? I live here alone, you know.”

“You can come and stay with us.”

Now there was an interesting invitation. She'd seen Lexy's daybed-built-for-one, which meant she would be sleeping on the couch. With Brady right down the hall in a room all his own, what were the odds that she would
stay
on the couch? Not good. So she would either seduce him, which wouldn't be a wise thing, considering how important he'd become to her, or she would try to seduce him and he would reject her, which would be painful, embarrassing and possibly more than her ego could take.

“No, thank you,” she said politely. “I'll be fine here.”

“You have my number at home?”

She nodded.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He looked for a moment as if he might kiss her. Sadly, the moment passed. “Go ahead and lock up.”

With a regretful nod, she started to close the door, then paused with just enough space to catch a glimpse of him. “In one way, at least, Lexy's adventure turned out good for you.”

“What's that?”

“It let you avoid answering my question. But that's okay. I'll just ask again. I'm the tenacious one, remember?”

“We've had that conversation before. In your motel room. Remember?”

Oh, she remembered. It had ended with him on his back and her on top of him and an incredible, wild, frenzied release that had curled her toes and left her too weak to do anything but sleep. “So you only want to be touched when you're naked and in bed and about to get laid.”

A look of such sorrow came across his face that her heart ached for causing it. “No. That's not the only time. It's just…” He cleared the hoarseness from his voice, then said in a flat, emotionless tone, “I've got to get Lexy home.”

“Sure. Thanks for a wonderful day.” Wishing her voice
hadn't quavered on the words, she once again started to close the door, but he blocked it with his hand.

“Hallie—”

She smiled her best smile—the brightest and phoniest one she used when the only alternative was bursting into tears. “Go on. Take your daughter home. I'll see you later.” She pushed against him, closed the door and locked it, then leaned against it. Holding her breath, she listened one moment, two, then finally heard his footsteps crossing the porch. One sad cry escaped her before she clamped her hand over her mouth, then dragged in a few deep breaths.

Her days of crying over men who found her lacking were over. So she wasn't the smart one, the capable one, the independent one. She wasn't the spineless, nothing-without-a-man one, either. Whatever problems Brady had with her were his problems.

Her problem was how to get over it.

She showered and put on her nightgown, then curled up on the old oak bed she'd found in a dusty corner of Stella Clark's shop with the binder Neely had given her before the wedding. It contained notes, photographs, sketches, ads torn from magazines and detailed instructions for every room in the new house.

Her sister was so organized it was scary, Hallie thought as she flipped through the pages. Neely could have given the binder to her contractor and been almost as assured of getting exactly what she wanted. Instead, she'd pleaded with Hallie to handle it for her…mostly, Hallie knew, because Neely had been worried about her. In the months following the divorce, Hallie had had a little trouble getting back into life—perfectly reasonable, she thought, for a third-time loser. Though she'd wanted to remain in hibernation in her Beverly Hills mansion, she hadn't been able to turn Neely down.

By the time she left Buffalo Plains—and Lexy and Brady—behind, she might need to return to her isolation. At the rate she was going, she wouldn't be fit for human company.

She reacquainted herself with all of Neely's wants and commands, then closed the notebook. It was nearly one-thirty, and the night was quiet except for an occasional car passing by on
the highway. The bobwhites and tree frogs were singing out back, and from the more distant trees came a whippoorwill's cry. It was all so peaceful and could lull her to sleep in a heartbeat if she could just lose the anxious knot in her stomach.

When the phone on the night table rang, it made her jump and sent Neely's binder sliding. She caught the binder with one hand and grabbed for the phone with the other. “Hello.”

“You should be asleep,” Brady said.

“How do you know I wasn't?”

“I can lie here in bed and see a faint light through the trees over there.”

“Why aren't
you
asleep?”

“Too much on my mind.”

What? she wanted to ask. Lexy? His ex-wife? His parents? Maybe
her?
But she didn't ask. Wouldn't. “How's Lexy?”

“She's sound asleep. She's convinced herself that it was just a couple kids who happened to be walking behind her and decided to be stupid.”

“Do you believe that?”

He was silent for a moment, then he murmured, “No. Buffalo Plains is a relatively safe place, but…things happen.”

“Maybe getting scared once in a while is good. Maybe she'll think twice before doing something like that again.”

“I hope so. I'd hate to have to put her on a leash.”

“I'd pay money to see that,” Hallie said dryly. Brady might make a great authority figure, but she had no doubt Lexy could really dig in when something was important enough to her.

“Are you okay?”

She set the binder on the floor, then slid underneath the covers. “I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?”

“When I left, you seemed…”

She waited, wondering if he had a clue how close to tears she'd come, or why. She'd gotten the why only half right herself. She'd thought she was hurt because, once again, she wasn't enough for the man in her life. But there had been more to it than that. She'd been hurt because
he
was hurt. That look in his eyes just before he'd gone all blank and cold…. It had been enough to break a woman's heart.

“You seemed upset,” he finally said. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“No, I'm not upset,” she lied. “Did I remember to thank you for a very nice day?”

“Not necessary. Lexy and I appreciated your coming.”

“Sheesh, we sound so formal, considering that we're each lying in our beds wearing… What
are
you wearing?”

He made a noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle. “You ask the most impertinent questions.”