Holding the Truth

by Calle J. Brookes

  "Sorry I intruded. Didn't mean to pry. Kurt's a good guy. Gets around a bit." He shouldn't be surprised Kurt would be looking in Bailey's direction. Even in the drab green uniform or the paper burrito, she had that sweetly pretty sexiness that drew men capable of looking beneath the surface.

  He'd seen it before.

  Pretty, available women like Bailey weren't as prevalent in Barratt County as they were in Finley Creek. Value, the county seat, had a grand population total of around eight hundred. Most of those were ranchers or ranch hands. Men who spent long hours without a pretty woman nearby sometimes.

  Smart, funny, beautiful, loyal, sweet women like Bailey weren't easy to find. When a guy found one, it was a good idea to grab hold with both hands.

  She didn't say another word. Just pulled into the small parking lot behind the department and killed the engine.

  "Thanks for the lift. See you first thing in the morning."

  "At nine."

  "Bailey? Be careful driving home."

  She nodded, then hurried to the edge of the parking lot. Toward a truck he recognized as belonging to the Dillons.

  Just another sign to remind him that he didn't have the right to tell her a damned thing about who she should be involved with.

  Clay stood in the parking lot, watching his deputy drive away, wondering why in the hell he gave a damn. He had more important things to think about.

  Chapter 14

  The Dillon ranch was rarely deserted. Bert was there all the time, it seemed. Except on Thursday when he worked the halfway house in Finley Creek.

  His son was gone more often, having a job at the library and classes somewhere.

  Lou Moore had to admit they were good people. He’d watched Bert fix Bailey’s car for her one weekend. And Bert’s son made his girl laugh. A lot.

  She sure did look pretty whenever she carried Bert’s grandbaby around, too. Lou was hit with a sucker punch when he realized he’d never get to see her carry his grandbaby around. Not like that.

  Just Bert’s.

  Bert got everything good now.

  Lou’s own fault, and he knew it. He’d made this happen. Robbed himself of everything the future held. For Bailey and him. Bert had told Lou that once at the halfway house where Lou had lived for a few weeks and Bert volunteered. That poor decisions would rob him of everything good in the world.

  And they had.

  They’d robbed him of his Bailey.

  The first time Lou snuck into Bert’s house had been two weeks after Bailey had moved in with the other man.

  Bert had replaced Lou in a heartbeat. No surprise. Bailey was such a sweetheart, and Lou had left her alone. A good man like Bert was going to step up and do the right thing for a young woman like Bailey. To think of his little girl alone after the hell Pete had put her through...well, it sickened Lou that he hadn’t been able to be there for her.

  Better than he had been before.

  All Lou wanted in the world was a chance to be a better father to his little girl. To protect her, for once. Instead of sit back and let her be hurt. Not like he had before.

  His cowardice shamed him. He had been stronger than that.

  He sank onto Bailey’s desk chair and played with the glass border collie figurine that had once been her mother’s. It was an older desk, scarred and much used. The Dillon house was like that. Warm, inviting, older, but well-loved.

  Bailey had photos on her wall now. They were new since the last time he’d visited. Most were of the Dillon baby. Maybe that’s the way the wind blew. She was certainly with Bert’s son enough. And she was living just down the hall.

  Lou liked that thought. It was poetic justice in his mind. Bailey and Jake Dillon had both been hurt by the sins of their fathers, but now they could find happiness together.

  Bailey sure loved that little baby.

  She’d be a good mama. And there was nothing to stop her and Jake from having more children someday. Even half a dozen. Little blond ones or little dark-haired ones. It didn’t matter. They’d be beautiful babies, like their momma had been.

  He wanted his little girl to be happy.

  And she was getting to an age where she was ready to be a mother, have a husband and a family.

  He couldn’t think of a better man than the town librarian. The librarian would never strike her or run around on her or do much of anything to hurt her.

  The boy didn’t have the temperament for that.

  Lou had watched all on the Dillon property for more than five weeks now. He’d like to think he knew them well.

  Knew they would never hurt his baby.

  The way it should be.

  He couldn’t be there for her, but at least she had someone to love her the way she deserved to be loved.

  Lou had to be content with that.

  If it bothered him sometimes that it was Bert, well...Lou would just have to get over that, wouldn’t he?

  Chapter 15

  Two days after the body had been found at Kurt Chase’s ranch, Clay decided that going over paper files from the past thirty years wasn’t enough. Their victim probably wasn’t in old missing persons files from the county. Clay hadn’t been able to give the case his full attention yet, but he knew Bailey was working hard on going over everything—when she’d been able.

  He’d had to put her on other things for the past two days, just to help clear out the other deputies’ caseloads.

  Now he had to turn his attention to the Chase body while he could.

  He needed to talk to the man who’d held the job back when Clay had still been in elementary school.

  That it was Bert Dillon had him making the decision to stop by after his shift instead of on it. He always spent more time with Jake’s father than he intended when he stopped by.

  He hadn’t been out there since shortly before what had happened to Bailey. It was about time he went.

  He couldn’t keep being a coward over the place where Bailey had almost died.

  Besides, Bert just might have the information that he needed.

  Despite the fact that Bert had spent time in jail for police corruption eighteen years ago, he still trusted the man's assessment on a few things. The guy had been a decent cop—until the biggest TSP scandal in Texas history had resulted in multiple arrests in the Value department, including Bert, Lou Moore, Pete Holte, Shawn Jennson, and half a dozen other men. Rumor was that Bert had been set up, but the older man had never said.

  He’d told Clay once that things had happened the way they needed to, and that was that. No use looking back. They had to keep moving forward.

  One of those men had retaliated against Bert's whistle-blowing with a high-powered rifle—paralyzing Bert's son Jake and wounding his daughter Kyra.

  It was that day that Clay had vowed to join the Texas State Police and prevent others from being hurt the way his close friend Jake had been.

  He hadn't been out to Bert's in months.

  He just hadn't. Every time he'd thought about it, he'd found some excuse not to.

  Guilt. He should have had an extra guard on Kyra that morning. Hell, he should have watched her himself.

  Bailey almost hadn't made it off Bert Dillon's property that day. And then she had damned near not made it off the operating table.

  He hadn't been able to get her off his mind the entire drive from his office to the Dillon ranch.

  No surprise. Bailey had moved into his brain and taken up residency there over a year ago when she’d first walked into his office, looking so sweet and loveable and ridiculously small in the green TSP uniform.

  Bert was the one to answer the door. Bert and his family had once lived in town near the sheriff's office. Just up the road from the house Clay lived in now. Until the drive-by had shattered their reality. After that, Bert had moved into his parent's home at the ranch. Eventually, he'd inherited it.

  "Glad you're here, son. You can join us for dinner. It's been a while since we had company. I'll have my girl set another p
lace."

  Clay stiffened. The only girl he could think of at Bert's would have been Kyra. He hadn't known she was back in town.

  She'd spent years avoiding Value, after all. She should still be in St. Louis with that asshole fiancé of hers. "If it's no trouble."

  "None at all. I make plenty. Keep trying to get her to eat more than what she does, but you know how that goes. She doesn't eat enough to keep a kitten alive."

  Clay had no real choice; he followed Bert through the warm, comfortable home toward the kitchen.

  A skinny blonde had her back turned toward him, but Clay knew. With one heartbeat, he recognized her.

  He’d just seen her four hours ago, before he’d cut her loose to pick up a file in Finley Creek before the therapy session she’d barely wanted to tell him she had.

  How had she gotten here?

  What in the hell was Bailey doing leaning over Jake like that?

  He cleared his throat.

  Bailey jumped and jerked around. "Sheriff Addy!"

  "Clay's going to be joining us tonight." Bert looked at her. "You grab the boy a plate, sweetie?"

  Bailey spun, stretching that tight little body up until she could reach into a cabinet. Like she'd done it a hundred times before. A thousand.

  Clay looked over at Jake in time to see his friend's appreciation written on his face when Jake looked at her ass. Which was far too close to Jake for Clay’s liking.

  What in the three hells was Bailey doing having dinner at Jake's? Dressed in thin sweats and a narrow pink T-shirt that hugged everything she had.

  His breath stopped.

  Bailey wasn't wearing a damned bra.

  Right there in Jake's kitchen, she'd practically bared it all.

  It took him a moment to realize she was wearing something, maybe a sports bra, under that T-shirt. Dark-blue cotton contrasted with pale peach skin and peeked out from beneath the pink of her shirt.

  It didn't matter. His damned body had tightened with two urges. Number one had been to ram his fist into Jake's leering face. Jake had no right to look at her that way. No right at all.

  Number two had been to scoop her up and carry her out of there. Back to his place. Where he could show her exactly what she did to him. Where he could explore that blue cotton in more depth.

  Neither one was exactly smart. " I didn't expect you to be here."

  Jake rolled closer, his son clutched to his lap with one hand. He smirked at Clay. No doubt the other man knew exactly what Clay had noticed about the sweet little blonde in their midst. "Where else would she be? Bailey lives with me—us—after all."

  Oh, Jake always had been an asshole.

  But why in the hell hadn't someone warned him about this?

  "Does she? I didn't know."

  A look of censure hit Bert's eyes. "She's been with us since she was discharged."

  He'd left it unsaid that Clay should have known where his deputy was. Hell, he was right. He hadn't even sent her a damned fruit basket four months ago. After he’d left her in the hospital, he’d wanted to erase her from his mind because the memories of what she’d endured had threatened to consume him. Cowardly of him, and he knew it. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I thought. I'm sure Jeremy mentioned it a time or two. Or Veri."

  A lie, and they all knew it.

  He hadn't wanted to know where she was. It was as simple as that.

  If he had known, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't have camped out on the damned porch just to make sure she was still ok. Every night in his dreams, he dreamed that she wasn't.

  That would wear on a man.

  She didn't look him in the eye, but she set him a place at the table. Next to Bert's. Across from Jake. Far from hers.

  Bailey took the seat opposite Bert's. The baby's high chair was pushed up next to her corner. Where she and Jake could both reach him. Bert handed her a plate for the baby, and she checked it.

  Within moments, she was feeding Jake's kid. Like she had the right to. Like Jake expected her to. Like Liam was her baby.

  Clay's gaze met Jake's again. And this time, he didn't doubt it one damned bit. Jake was gloating. Almost daring Clay to say something. He bit back the urge to do just that.

  If she wanted to live with Jake Dillon and play mommy to the guy's son, then that was her business. Not his.

  Never Clay's.

  Chapter 16

  She got through dinner somehow. Mostly because of Jake and the baby. Jake knew how she felt about Sheriff Addy. How the man had no problem doing whatever he had to in order to make her miserable. And in his big brother way, Jake was doing what he could to protect her.

  She wished she loved Jake. It would be so easy to do. They could get married, raise Liam, and stay right where they were forever.

  But Bailey didn't think she'd ever be able to love like that. Not like Cam and Kyra loved each other, anyway.

  And Jake deserved that.

  The sheriff and Bert went into Bert's office right after dinner. She blew out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and scooped up the baby. Jake was going to work in his room for a few hours, as he did every night. Bert was an early to bed kind of man—Liam most definitely was not.

  Now it was her time. The best part of her day was when she got to be with him.

  He did something particularly adorable, and she grabbed her cell phone. A few pictures later and she was rocking him in one arm and texting Kyra in the other. The older woman had always been the closest thing to a sister she had had. They'd lost touch after Kyra had left town, but after the hell they'd been through together, Kyra was practically the only real female friend Bailey had.

  Other than those she'd met at group therapy sessions for W4HAV, that was.

  When she finished her text conversation—Kyra was home alone and feeling the urge to talk—Clay was heading down the hall.

  Bert was nowhere to be seen.

  Bailey looked up at her boss when he stepped further into the living room. A long way up. She'd curled up next to the baby on the old quilt some long-ago Dillon ancestor had sewn. Liam was giggling and tugging on her braid. She gently extracted her hair from his greedy little fist and just stared.

  Clay Addy was far too pretty to be the kind of man he was.

  Rugged, dark, handsome, smart, beautiful—he epitomized the whole small town sheriff ideal that so many women found appealing. And half the female town—the county, really—thought he was perfection. Bailey knew better.

  He'd scared the pants off of her from the very beginning. She didn't have a clue what she was supposed to say. "Sheriff."

  Her voice came out far huskier than she intended. Bailey rolled over, crossing one arm over her stomach, feeling far more vulnerable than she even wanted to think about.

  ***

  He'd never seen a more beautiful sight than his deputy sprawled on the floor next to another man's baby. Damn it. She looked perfect with that kid next to her. In the old ranch house that had housed generations of Dillons before Jake and his son. Like she belonged.

  Hell, he'd wanted some damned rancher to swoop in and take Bailey off his hands and keep her far from town and out of his hair.

  It looked like exactly that was happening. Why not? She and Kyra were close. Kyra had been down to visit her family several times—for the first time in years. It made sense that Bailey would be around Jake a lot. Easier for Jake to pounce that way.

  But damned if he wanted it to be Jake that got her.

  Not because his buddy didn't deserve a woman like her; far from that. Jake was one of the best people Clay knew. But the thought of Jake touching her, luring her into his bed—hell, for all Clay knew, that was exactly where she already slept every night—made him sick.

  With fury. At himself. Because Jake wasn’t him.

  He reached down, one hand extended to her. She stared at it like it was a damned snake about ready to strike her at any moment. "Walk me out."

  He ordered it when he had no right.

  "I.
.." She looked at the baby, then scooped him up expertly. "Of course."

  Clay said very little as she led the way. It wasn't until they were outside under the wide Texas sky that he said the first thing that occurred to him. "I'm sorry."

  "For?" The baby cooed, and she rocked him, dropping a kiss against his black hair without thought. He was struck again by how natural it looked. How Bailey was made for half a dozen kids and a man who worshiped the ground she walked on. Who'd give her the very air he breathed just to make her smile.

  "Being rude inside. I didn't mean to imply I didn't care where you were these last four months. That's not true."

  "Yes, it is." She barely looked at him. He wasn't used to that.

  Even before, when he'd scared the shit out of her, she'd still looked at him. Now she looked everywhere but at him. "No, it's not." Hell, he'd cared. But if he'd let himself look for her, he never would have stopped worrying about her. Caring. Wondering. "I cared."

  "Please don't lie to me. I can't stand it."

  Damn it, he missed the sweet hope that had always been in her words before. He never would have wanted this quiet fear for her. He let impulse guide him for a moment.

  Clay cupped her smooth cheek with one hand. "I am not lying. I worried about you. But I figured if you wanted me to know where you were, you would have found a way to tell me yourself. I wish I knew what to say to make you understand that."

  "I don't need the smooth words, Sheriff Addy. I don't like people who lie to me. Especially now." She turned the baby to rest against her chest, as she spoke. Finally, she raised her eyes to his. He could barely make out the blue in the low light of the porch. "I'll do my job when I'm in the office. I'll do what I've been trained to do, and that's it. But please don't lie to me that I matter. I'm just a number. A body at a desk that you have to have. We both know that. So...don't ever be dishonest with me again. If you'll excuse me...I'm tired. It was a long day, and the baby needs put to bed. And I need to help Jake—"

  "How involved with him are you?" None of his damned business, and they both knew it.