The Texas Ranger's Reward (Undercover Heroes) (2 page)

Probably never in her life had she seen such a handsome face or
such sky-blue eyes. People would marvel over his remarkable features as he grew
into manhood. Especially women. You needed to look no further than the boy’s
father.

But on the adult version—the man appeared to be
mid-thirties—there were differences. She’d seen the lines left by life and grief
around his eyes and mouth, the shadow of a dark beard on his square jaw. The
artist in her had caught the fierce gaze of arctic-blue eyes, distant and
speculative. Almost forbidding. She shivered at the memory.

In the midst of her thoughts, she heard her cell ring. She
reached for it and checked the caller ID. “Hi, Tom.”

“Hey, how was your Labor Day weekend?”

“Semiproductive.”

Unfortunately, she’d found herself looking over her shoulder
quite a bit while doing her artwork. She’d been at the family cabin on her own,
not for the first time this summer. Neither her parents, nor either of her two
married siblings had used the place in August, yet increasingly she’d had a
vague sense that someone other than herself had been there. Though she’d seen no
signs of forced entry, there were little indications, such as books and lamps in
places she didn’t remember them being, the bedding not made up the normal way,
and signs of dirty footprints on the floor by the back door. It made her nervous
at night, so she’d turned on the generator, hoping the resulting sound and
lights would ward off intruders.

If she’d still had her bulldog, Spike, Melissa wouldn’t have
felt so nervous. But soon after her divorce, her beloved pet had died of old
age. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to get a new one. She couldn’t give
an animal the time it deserved.

“Same here,” Tom said, jolting her back to the present. “I’m
afraid my children didn’t leave me any time to write.” That meant he’d had
visitation through the long weekend. “I’m glad you’re back. Let’s meet for
dinner at Rinaldo’s in Bell Canyon Plaza after work.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I promised the folks I’d spend the evening
with them.” Melissa needed to talk to her parents about the problem at the
cabin. After their whole family had gotten together there for a Fourth of July
celebration, her parents had gone to Laguna Beach, California, for two weeks on
their own. “How about lunch there on Thursday?” She would have finished her
renderings by then. “I’ll bring everything you’ve been waiting for.”

“Not till Thursday? I guess I can wait. What time?”

“One o’clock?” It would be right after the Denton baby’s
appointment. She had torticollis, a condition that curtailed her range of neck
motion. Mrs. Denton fell apart emotionally every time she brought the baby for
therapy. Melissa would need a break following the session.

“Okay, see you then. I’m looking forward to it.”

Melissa hung up, unable to say the same thing back to him. Tom
Hunt was a prominent patent attorney specializing in intellectual properties. He
was also a talented writer of children’s fiction. They’d met in March when he’d
brought his son in for therapy because of knee pain. The eleven-year-old had
Osgood-Schlatter disease, fortunately not too serious a case.

During the treatments, Tom had admired the paintings hanging in
her office. When he’d learned she was the artist, he’d asked her if she’d be
willing to do some sketches for a story he’d been working on. It was set during
World War II, between two childhood friends whose countries were fighting on
opposing sides. The subject appealed to her and she’d said yes. She’d started
working closely with Tom, but despite his obvious interest, she had no desire
for any sort of romantic relationship with him.

She knew he wanted to get married again, but in truth, the
thought of marrying again herself filled her with dread.

Melissa had been young and in love when she’d married exciting,
handsome Russell Dalton. But her dreams of living happily ever after were
shattered when she realized she’d married an abuser.

Their seven-month marriage had come to an abrupt end the day he
got home from his last college class. She was studying for finals at the kitchen
table when he walked in, wanting to make love. Melissa had told him she needed
to keep on studying, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d jerked her out
of the chair like a rag doll.

Shocked, she’d tried to push him away, and he’d responded by
slapping her in the face so hard she fell to the floor. That blow had changed
her life.

Though he was remorseful and swore it would never happen again,
she’d grabbed her keys and run from the apartment and their life together.
Divorce had followed.

Intellectually, she knew there were good men out in the
universe who would make fine husbands. Over the past six years she’d dated quite
a few of them. But the thought of taking the critical step into another marriage
left her apprehensive.

To make her feelings clear to Tom, she never went out with him
in the evening, or worked with him when his two children were on visitation. She
shied away from any attachments. It wasn’t fair to his kids, when there could be
no future. He should have gotten the point long before now.

Since her divorce, Melissa had reached a restful place where
she was in control. She wanted to stay there. When Tom’s book was finished to
his specifications, she’d decided, it would be the only project she’d do with
him. After that, there wouldn’t be a reason to get together again, and they
could part with no hard feelings.

After parking in her usual spot, she headed for the clinic
doors. She was almost there when she heard her name being called. Melissa turned
to see Casey Stillman walking carefully away from a blue car toward her. He was
dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt. His father followed, carrying the
crutches.

She felt a burst of pleasure at the boy’s taking up the
challenge. When Casey was about halfway to her, he hesitated. “Keep coming,
Casey!” she called. “You’re doing great!”

The boy got a determined look on his face and picked up his
speed. Once he reached her, she gave him a quick hug. “I’m very proud of
you.”

He looked up at her and smiled. Children smiled at her every
day, but for some reason she didn’t understand, Casey’s expression tugged at her
emotions. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“That’s because you’re so tough!” She let go of his shoulders.
“Come into my office. You’ve earned a gift of your choice. Do you need your
crutches to get inside?”

Casey stared at her. “Will you hold my hand?”

“Of course.” She took his hand and they walked through the main
doors to her suite. She made sure they didn’t go too fast. He was still favoring
his leg, but not nearly as much as the day before.

Melissa walked him over to the treasure chest and opened it.
“Take all the time you want picking out your prize. If you get tired, here’s a
little stool to sit on while you look.”

He propped himself on the edge of the chest and started going
through the presents. While he was occupied, she moved to her desk across the
room and sat behind it. Casey’s hard-muscled father, in jeans and a dark green
sport shirt, took a chair opposite her and placed the crutches on the floor next
to him.

“Mr. Stillman,” she began quietly, “the doctor suggested your
son’s problem was psychological, so that’s why I threw him in at the deep end of
the pool yesterday. It’s clear his leg has healed and he’s able to walk just
fine. Do you know any reason why his problem may have been so easily resolved? I
don’t. I know I’m close to being the perfect therapist, but an overnight
recovery is astonishing.”

The man’s lips quirked at her joke, but she got the impression
there was something about her he didn’t like. She saw it in his wintry eyes. An
odd chill went through her.

“I’ve discovered there’s a very good reason,” he answered, in a
low voice so deep it resonated through her body. “But I would prefer to tell you
out of his hearing.” Casey’s dad looked at her with such solemnity she took a
quick breath.

“Understood. Since I’d like one more session with him, tomorrow
morning, could you call me this afternoon? Say, around one? That’s when I take
my lunch break, and we can talk.”

“I’ll see that Casey is otherwise occupied, then phone
you.”

“Melissa?” his son called. “Can I have this Captain America
toy?”

“Sure. It’s one of my favorites. The gizmo shoots little
disks.”

“Awesome!”

“Did you know there’s something else I’d like you to do for
me?”

“What?”

“Just use one crutch on your way out to your father’s car.
Think you can do that?”

“Yes,” he said. But he was so absorbed with his new toy she
doubted he’d really listened. In a few long strides, his dad, carrying both
crutches, reached Casey. He fitted one under his son’s arm, then took the gift
from him.

Melissa stood up. “I have one more favor to ask you, Casey.” He
finally lifted his head. “Will you come to my office tomorrow without your
crutches? Just leave them at home. If you do that, I’ve got another surprise for
you.”

“Is it in the pirate chest?”

“I had something else in mind, but if there’s another toy you’d
like in there, that’s fine.”

She could almost hear his brain working. “Will I like it a
lot?”

Kids.
She loved them.

“I can guarantee it.”

His eyes lit up. “Okay.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Casey.”

“Can you thank her for being so generous?” his father
prodded.

“Thanks, Melissa.”

“You’re welcome.” She closed the door behind them to get ready
for her next patient.

The morning seemed to pass much slower than usual. Melissa knew
why. She was waiting for lunch, when Casey’s father was supposed to phone. Not
once in three years had she been given a case where it was over almost before it
had begun. Mr. Stillman had indicated he knew the reason for his son’s
capitulation. She was eager for him to share it with her.

After her last appointment, she took a bottle of juice from her
mini fridge and drank it while she typed the last patient’s follow-up notes into
the computer. At five after one, the receptionist told her she was wanted on
line three. She picked up the receiver.

“Melissa Dalton speaking.”

“This is Travis Stillman.”

“Thanks for calling me, Mr. Stillman. Where is Casey right
now?”

“In the kitchen eating lunch with the housekeeper. He’s using
her and Dexter to retrieve those disks.”

She laughed softly. “From what I saw this morning, he should be
picking them up himself. In my professional opinion he has healed beautifully.
So why did he cling to the crutches until you brought him to the clinic?”

“Let me give you a bit of background first. Until fifteen
months ago, I was a Texas Ranger living with my wife and son in Fort Davis,
Texas.”

A Texas Ranger.
In Melissa’s mind,
Texas Rangers were legendary, and he fitted her image of one exactly.

“On my last case,” he went on, “I went after a gang in a brutal
racial slaying. I caught up with two of them, but a third one eluded me. They
were known as the McClusky brothers. Soon after their capture, the third
brother, Danny McClusky, murdered my wife in cold blood while she was driving
home from the grocery store. It was a revenge killing. Thankfully, Casey was
still at school.”

His revelation stopped her cold. “I—I can’t imagine anything so
horrifying,” she stammered. “Is that killer still free?”

“Yes. He’s on the FBI’s most wanted list. They’ll get him in
time.”

“How do you live with that?”

“Not so well. Two other times during my career, my wife and son
were threatened. After I buried her, I decided enough was enough, and resigned
from the Texas Rangers. Casey needs me too much.”

“He’s so lucky you’re still alive!” she said, before she
realized how emotional she sounded. She knew what it felt like to be threatened.
She’d gotten out of her marriage because of it. For both his and Casey’s sakes,
she was glad Mr. Stillman had moved to Utah, away from danger.

“I have a sister,” he said, “who lives in Lone Peak Estates
here in Sandy, with her husband and their two kids. Since the area’s zoned for
horses, she encouraged us to move across the street from her so we could ride
their horses when we wanted. After the loss of his mother, I wanted Casey to
have family close by.”

“Of course,” Melissa murmured, still shocked by the tragic
story. For a child to lose his mother like that was utterly heartbreaking.

“He’s had a hard time,” Mr. Stillman continued, “but we were
doing better until he fell off his horse and broke his leg. It happened soon
after Pioneer Day, on the twenty-fourth of July. Having the surgery frightened
him and set him back emotionally. He’s been crying for his mother at night.”

“That’s only natural. Who wouldn’t? In hellish times the child
in everyone cries for his or her mother.”

Melissa had wanted to cry in her mom’s arms in the months
before she’d run from Russ, wanting her to make everything all right. But she’d
felt too ashamed to tell her parents anything. They’d advised her to wait
another year before she got married, just to be sure. But oh, no. She knew what
she was doing. What a fool.

She hadn’t confided in her parents until after she’d left
Russ.

Poor Casey hadn’t had his mother when he’d fallen.

“When you greeted him outside your office yesterday morning, it
was like something magical happened—he responded to you without even thinking
about it. I was bewildered by his reaction until we got home. That’s when I
realized there’s something about you that reminds him of his mother—the way you
talk, your enthusiasm, even your physical appearance. You have a vitality like
hers. Put all that together and you could be her double.”