Lawman's Redemption (17 page)

The glass shattered and oil spread across the wood floor in a fiery puddle before flames shot up, their heat forcing Brady back a few steps. Across the room the bastard threw the second lamp toward the kitchen, where it, too, exploded into flames. Laughing, both men ran from the house.

Brady banged on Lexy's door, rattling it open. “Lex! Get up!” He reached her bed in two steps and gave her a shake. “The house is on fire! Come on, we've got to get out!”

She blinked, looked at him, then her eyes opened wide. A roar came from the living room as the flames consumed everything in their path. He dragged her from the bed, and she scrambled into sandals, grabbed her backpack, then raced down the hall ahead of him. When she would have turned into the kitchen, he grabbed her shirttail and pushed her into his bedroom. “The back door's nailed shut, remember? Use that chair to break out the window and screen.”

While she grabbed the ladder-back chair in the corner, he went to the phone in the kitchen and called 911. A moment later, coughing from the smoke, he returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

“Come on, Brady, we gotta go!” Lexy shrieked from the window.

“Go on, and wait right outside. I have to get something…” In the closet, he grabbed the two rifles and the shotgun from the
rack and dropped them on the bed, then dragged a canvas bag filled with ammunition from the corner.

“Forget the guns!” She was bouncing on the balls of her feet at the window. “The smoke's coming in under the door! Please, Brady…!”

As long as he was saving things, he added his gun belt, tossed his two Stetsons to Lexy, then returned to the closet for the only truly important items—the stack of photographs he kept locked in the gun cabinet. He slid them into his pocket, then reached the window as flames licked through the gap under the door. He lifted Lexy to the ground, wrapped the sheet around everything on the bed and handed it out, then slid out himself.

A fire engine and the chief's truck were pulling up as they came around the front of the house. “Anyone inside?” the chief yelled.

“No, it's just us.”

“If you have your keys, we'll move your trucks out of the way.”

Brady started to reach into his pocket for his keys, but the pain sent nausea washing over him. “Lex, can you get my keys?”

“What's wrong— Oh, God, what happened to your arm?”

He gazed down at her as she tossed the keys to the fire chief, then dryly said, “You're a sound sleeper, aren't you?” Sliding his good arm around her shoulders, he walked her out toward the street. There he looked her over, head to toe. “You okay?”

She nodded, then burst into tears.

As he pulled her against him, he realized he'd been wrong earlier. If he'd lost the photographs, he wouldn't have lost anything truly important. Photographs could be replaced.

But Lexy couldn't.

 

When Hallie was upset, she didn't sleep well. After catching Max and Lilah together, she'd lost so much sleep that she'd begun looking haggard in spite of the best cosmetics money could buy—and haggard was
not
a good look for her. Tonight she'd done everything to ensure a good's night rest—taken a long, relaxing hot bath, lighted tension-relieving aromatherapy
candles, drunk two cups of chamomile and valerian tea, listened to the most soothing jazz CD she owned.

And none of it had worked. She was still wide awake.

Rolling onto her side, she gazed out the window toward Brady's house. She'd managed not to look over there even once in the past two hours. The last time the house had been dark and still, and she'd wondered if he and Lexy had missed her tonight even one-fourth as much as she'd missed them. Probably not, she'd decided. People didn't tend to get as emotionally attached to her as she did to them. She had always hoped that was a flaw in the people she got attached to, but she was beginning to think it was a flaw in her. She just wasn't the sort of woman people really committed to. Even her own mother and sisters could go months without thinking of her, while they were on her mind practically every day.

Someone was up at the Marshall house, she saw, with lights blazing from every window. She wondered if Brady had gotten another emergency call, or if Lexy was sick, or—

Stiffening, she leaned closer to the window. There was a whole lot more light than there were windows over there, and it was flickering, rising, falling, like a—a—

Oh, God, like a fire.

She jumped from her bed, pulled a jumper on over her chemise, then shoved her feet into shoes. She was halfway to the front door, clutching her keys in one hand, when the phone rang. She hesitated, then kept going. If it was important, the caller would leave a message or try again.

It took only two minutes to reach Brady's house, though she had to park half a block away. There was a fire engine in the driveway, as well as sheriff's vehicles up and down the street. Everyone was standing idle, though. Just a glance showed that nothing could be done to save the house. All the firefighters could do was douse the flames if they started to spread.

She found Brady and Lexy standing arm-in-arm at the edge of the yard and hesitated. What could she offer that they might possibly need? A place to stay? Brady would probably prefer Motel Le Dump over her guest room. Concern? They had
enough concern for each other. Support? No doubt that was why all the deputies were there.

They didn't need her at all…but she needed to see for herself that they were all right.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she crossed the last ten feet and circled around in front of them. “Brady, Lexy, are you guys okay?” she asked, and they both automatically reached for her, enveloping her in a three-way hug that filled the emptiness inside her with an incredible sense of warmth and satisfaction.

“Oh, Hallie, they came back and burned our house down!” Lexy exclaimed. “They tried to kill us, and they hurt Brady!”

Her nerves clenching, Hallie pushed back and looked at him. “Where?”

“It's nothing.”

“They broke his arm,” Lexy said, “but he's too stubborn to go to the doctor.”

In the insufficient light from the street lamp, his arm certainly looked broken to Hallie. His wrist was swollen to twice its size, it was badly discolored, and his fingers were cool to the touch.

She gave Lexy a reassuring smile and a wink, then said, “The key to dealing with a stubborn man is to be so stubborn yourself that he'll give in and do what you want just so you'll stop pestering him. So, Brady, do you want to show that you're also an intelligent man and save us both the trouble?”

His blue eyes were shadowed with pain as he gazed down at her. “Don't let this go to your head,” he warned, “because it doesn't mean you've won. I just don't have the energy to argue with you tonight.”

“Sounds like a victory to me.”

He insisted on talking to several of the deputies first, then allowed Hallie and Lexy to help him into the passenger seat of his sheriff's department SUV. “Reese fired the last deputy who let his girlfriend drive his patrol unit,” he remarked as she slowly drove past the other vehicles.

“But Reese isn't here. And you're not a deputy. And I'm not your girlfriend.” Though she wouldn't mind playing the role for a time. A few weeks or…oh, a few decades sounded about right.

“Where are we going?”

He gave her directions to the nearest hospital, some thirty miles away, then related the events of the night to her. “I should have expected someone else,” he said, chagrin in his voice. “I shouldn't have let him sneak up behind me.”

“You're right,” Hallie agreed. “After all, you
are
a superhero…or so you seem to think.”

He scowled at her, but it took more energy than he had to spare, apparently. “It was stupid to think it was just one guy. I mean, there were lights inside, and my pickup and this truck parked outside. Just one guy isn't knowingly going to break into a house occupied by a cop.”

And generally, it seemed to her, no one would break into an occupied residence—a cop's or not—unarmed. Brady and Lexy had been very fortunate that the second intruder hadn't had anything deadlier than a flashlight in his hand.

“Did you lose everything?” she asked softly.

“Lexy got her backpack,” he replied.

Lexy spoke up from the back seat. “And Brady got his guns and bullets. We're about to be burned to a crisp, and he's getting bullets. Can you believe it?”

He tilted his head back. “Ammunition will explode in a fire, and I had a hell of a lot of it. I didn't want to put the firemen in any more danger than usual.”

“Oh. Okay. I apologize for thinking you were crazy.” Lexy reached up to pat his shoulder, then sat back. “Damn—I mean, darn, I don't have any clothes. Just my pajamas.”

Good, Hallie thought. “I'll take you shopping tomorrow—” Remembering how angry Brady had been that afternoon, she broke off, then lamely finished, “If that's all right with your father.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Brady murmured, “Better you than me.”

It wasn't much, but at least she could accept it as an indication that he didn't intend to keep her out of their lives. Maybe it was pathetic, but she was grateful for it.

They must have made quite a picture walking into the emergency room thirty minutes later, Hallie thought. She wore no makeup and hadn't combed her hair; Lexy wore blue-and-red
plaid boxers, a green T-shirt and flip-flops; and Brady was un-shaven, barefooted and smelled of smoke. No one paid them any mind, though, as they whisked Brady away for treatment.

Nearly an hour had passed before he returned with his right arm encased in a cast from elbow to fingertips. He looked so handsome…and so fatigued. Hallie was starting to feel that way herself.

As soon as they got to the truck, Lexy lay down in the back seat and was softly snoring before they got out of town. Hallie glanced at Brady. “Why don't you recline the seat and try to get some sleep?”

“I'm okay.”

“Yeah, you really look it.”

“Hey, let's not see who can be ornerier at three-thirty in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” She let a few minutes pass in silence before slyly glancing his way. “But I'd win.”

“Darlin', it wouldn't surprise me in the least.”

She kept the truck's speed five miles an hour above the posted limit. Even so, it seemed to take forever to get to Buffalo Plains. When she turned into her driveway, she gave a soft, weary sigh of relief. It was after 4:00 a.m., and she was fairly certain she would be able to sleep now.

“You don't have to put us up,” Brady said, rousing as she shut off the engine. “We can stay at the motel.”

She paused in the act of removing the keys from the ignition. “I'll take you there if that's what you want, but…you'll be more comfortable here, and I…I would be more comfortable with you here.”

After a moment, he reached across to open his door. Hallie leaned between the two seats to give Lexy a shake. “Come on, sweetie. We're home. Let's go in and get to bed.”

As soon as they got inside, Lexy collapsed on the couch and started snoring again immediately. Hallie removed her flip-flops, lowered her backpack to the floor, slid a pillow under her head, then covered her with a sheet from the hall linen closet.

“The guest room is here,” she said, leading Brady down the
narrow hall to the left of the fireplace, “and my room is right here.”

“Are you giving me a choice?”

She kicked off her shoes and left them just inside the door, then met his gaze. “Why would I do that? You haven't been exactly eager to repeat our encounters of those two nights.”

“Don't kid yourself, Hallie. You know I want you.”

“But…?” Hugging her arms to her chest, she smiled tautly.

“There's always a ‘but.' But it would be wrong, but I might expect something from you, but you don't want to complicate things.”

When he continued to look at her but said nothing, she shrugged and reached past him to turn on the guest-room light. “Come on. I'll help you get settled.”

The only furniture she'd bought for the guest room was a small table and a bed—not because she'd expected actually to have a guest in her few weeks in town, but because she'd found a great iron bed in one of the shops. Someday she would have her own house again, and surely at least once in her lifetime she could count on someone coming to visit.

She turned on the lamp on the night table, then folded back the covers and plumped the pillow. When she glanced back at Brady, she saw that he hadn't moved from the hallway. “Well?”

Slowly he entered the room, going to stand on the other side of the bed. “I'm a big boy. I can undress myself.”

“You've got a broken wrist. Besides, I've seen you naked before.”

He shook his head. “No, you haven't.”

“Okay. I've touched you naked. I've been naked with you. Whatever, there's no reason for false modesty.”

He ignored her remark and changed the subject. “I'm sorry about what happened.”

Her breath catching in her chest and her palms growing damp, Hallie chose to misunderstand. “I bet. Lexy said if they were going to burn the place down, it was a shame they didn't do it before you guys spent all those hours cleaning up. I don't blame her—”

“I'm talking about what I said to you.”

“Oh, that.” She reached out to smooth a wrinkle in the sheet as if the conversation was no more significant than that. “Don't think you're the first man who's told me to go to hell. I'm used to it.”

“Stop it, Hallie.” His tone was rough, harsh. “I never should have said it. I just thought…I thought you knew me better than that. I was…disappointed.”

She could certainly sympathize with that. She'd had her share of disappointments, plus several other people's. “I shouldn't have said anything. After all, Lexy's
your
daughter. I'm just…nobody.” Smiling brightly in spite of the tears that blurred her vision, she headed for the door. “I'd better let you get to bed. I know you must be exhausted.” She turned off the overhead light and ducked through the door into her own room.