by Sherry Lewis
Max chuckled because Donovan expected him to, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Too bad you didn’t do more sightseeing. I’ll bet Holly was disappointed.”
“You’d lose that bet. Every time I suggested leaving the room, she came up with an excuse to stay in.” Donovan’s voice lowered. “And that woman’s got some mighty good excuses. The only thing she’s upset about is that the week’s over, and I’ll be spending all my time with you after Monday.” He paused, and Max could hear the telltale intake of breath that meant he’d lit a cigarette. “What about you? I thought you were going to be back here with Carmichael before I got my first sunburn.”
“To hear you talk, I still have plenty of time.” Max leaned against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. “Which is good since he just showed up last night.”
“Last night?” Donovan laughed. “You’ve been stuck there all this time? I’ll bet that’s been exciting. What have you been doing with yourself?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. When did you get back?”
“A few hours ago. Tried to call you at home. You weren’t there.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Slate. He actually managed not to lose the number you left him.”
“Well. Miracles do happen.”
“So, when are you heading back? Give me your flight information and I’ll meet you at the airport. We can transport Carmichael to the jail together.”
Max propped the phone between his chin and shoulder and kneaded a knot from the back of his neck. “I’m going to need a little longer on this one.”
“Longer? The bounty on Carmichael isn’t even going to cover your expenses as it is.”
“I know, but things here are more complicated than I expected.”
“Complicated how?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You got trouble with the sister or something?”
“No. It’s just a little complication.”
“You need me to come out there?”
“No,” Max said quickly. “No. Thanks. I’ve got it under control. Let me ask you something about Carmichael. You’ve seen his rap sheet. Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“No. If I was worried about that, I never would have agreed to let you go after him alone. Why?”
“He’s staying with his sister, and she’s got two kids. I don’t want to do anything that might put them in danger.”
“The kids have to go to school, don’t they? Or are they too young?”
“They’re teenagers.”
“Then wait until they’re in school. Or work with the local authorities to get the sister and her kids out of there before you go in.”
“Right.” Donovan made it sound so easy—and it should be. “The sister doesn’t know he’s on the run.”
“She’ll figure it out soon enough when you apprehend him.” Donovan’s voice changed. “What’s the problem? You’ve done this kind of job a hundred times.”
“I told you, it’s complicated.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say how.”
“It’s hard to explain. I’ll fill you in later.” If Donovan knew how deeply enmeshed he was, he’d be here in the morning and Max would be off the case. That might be the best solution, but Max hated the thought of Reagan finding out about Travis that way.
“You sure you don’t need help?”
“I’m sure. It’s not dangerous. Now, quit worrying about me and pay some attention to your wife. I don’t need her upset with me for keeping you on the phone all night.”
Donovan laughed. “I don’t need her upset with me, either. Just keep in touch, okay, buddy? And if you need help, call me.”
“You got it.” Max disconnected, but the conversation left him even more agitated than he’d been earlier. Now that Donovan had returned, he’d have to get the show on the road. If he wasn’t back in San Diego in a couple of days, Donovan would come after him. One way or another, he had to get Travis into custody before that happened.
MAX TIMED HIS MORNING JOG so he could meet up with Reagan. With any luck, she’d invite him back to the house. If not, he’d just have to invite himself. He wanted a chance to size Travis up and take stock of the situation before he did anything.
He was all business this morning—grimly determined to do the job he’d come to do. Jogging slowly past beds of budding flowers, he repeated the vow he’d made to the mirror that morning. No matter what happened, he’d stay in control. He’d remain detached until he had Travis in custody. It wouldn’t be easy, but Max felt more equal to the challenge this morning than he had last night. He’d faced tougher ones and come out on top.
He just couldn’t remember when.
Sunlight splashed onto the sidewalk in front of him, bringing back the memory of that first morning with Reagan, the fire in her hair and the deep sea-green of her eyes. His sudden, fierce, physical reaction to the memory slowed his step and eventually brought him to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
Bending slightly, he gripped his knees and struggled to catch his breath. It took a little more effort to get his mind back on the job. By the time he’d finished his route, he realized he’d either missed Reagan or she’d decided not to run. Switch to plan B, he thought as he started toward her house.
It was still early, but things were already hopping by the time he arrived. Music blared from one of the back rooms and laughter floated out toward him through the open windows, along with the scents of coffee and breakfast.
Stay detached, he reminded himself.
The laughter hushed for a second after he rang the bell, and a set of footsteps raced toward the door. The top of Danielle’s head appeared in the window, followed by her eyes as she stood on tiptoe to look out, and an unexpected flash of affection for her left Max a little off step.
Grinning broadly, she threw the door open and shouted over her shoulder, “Max is here!” Before he could get inside, she grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall.
The rest of the family sat together at the kitchen table, Reagan in a gray University of Texas sweatshirt and a pair of green-and-gray plaid flannel pajama bottoms. She’d pulled her hair high on her head so that curls danced whenever she moved, and her face was clean, scrubbed of makeup and other distractions. She was utterly beautiful.
Travis sat across from her, comfortable in a pair of black sweatpants and a faded T-shirt. “Hey, man.” Travis stood when Max entered, shoving out his hand as if they were best friends. “We were just talking about you.” He pumped Max’s hand for a few seconds. “You want some coffee?”
“Sure.” Max smiled at Jamie, who huddled beneath a light blanket and looked as if she’d rather be somewhere else. “Thanks.”
Reagan hopped up, but Travis waved her back into her seat and went after the coffee himself. “Take my seat,” he told Max. “I’ll drag in a chair from the other room.”
Max tried not to let Travis’s easy acceptance whip up guilt, but it wasn’t easy. “It sounds like you’re having a great time,” he said as he sat beside Danielle. “I could hear you laughing all the way up the front walk.”
“Travis has been telling stories about when he and Mom were little.” Danielle’s eyes danced with mischief. “You should make him tell you the one about Mom’s first date.”
“He doesn’t need to hear that story. Not from any of you.” Reagan tried to look stern, but the sparkle in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying herself thoroughly.
Travis came back into the kitchen with a chair, then poured Max an oversize mug of coffee. “Reagan just challenged me to a kite-flying contest. You want in?”
Max shook his head quickly. He’d be a fool to let himself become more firmly entrenched in the family unit. Obviously, Reagan and the girls were safe. Travis’s eyes looked clear and bright, not clouded from drugs. Nobody seemed frightened. “I don’t think so. I really should get some work done.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Danielle pointed out.
Jamie spoke for the f
irst time. “You can’t do anything around here on Sunday.”
“The town’s locked up tight, huh?” Max tried to find another out. “I haven’t flown a kite in so many years, I can’t even remember the last time I tried. I’d lose for certain.”
Reagan kicked her feet onto her chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. “That makes two of us. I was about eight last time I flew a kite, and the girls never have.”
“Yeah,” Danielle chimed in again. “So you’ll be the same as the rest of us.”
Max knew what his answer should be, but he had a hard time resisting the pull of Reagan’s eyes. And if he spent time with them, he could make absolutely certain that Reagan and the girls were really safe. And dig that hole you’re standing in a whole lot deeper.
Max ignored the warning and focused instead on the circle of shining eyes and smiling faces surrounding him. “What’s at stake?”
“Winner is the one who keeps his kite up longest,” Travis said. “Loser has to fix dinner for everyone else tomorrow night.”
“Dinner, huh? That’s not so bad, I guess.”
“Now that I think about it,” Reagan said, “I’m not sure this is such a good idea. If I remember right, Max isn’t all that skilled in the kitchen.” She turned those eyes on him, all sweetness on the surface with a hint of deviltry shining from their depths.
“As I recall,” he said, straight-faced, “the incident you’re thinking about wasn’t entirely my fault. Besides, I don’t intend to lose, so it won’t be an issue.”
Danielle laughed softly. Jamie kept her head down, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. Obviously, everything wasn’t rosy, but Reagan didn’t seem overly concerned so Max tried to ignore the girl’s bad mood.
“It has to be more than salad,” Reagan warned. “Or hot dogs. And barbecued hamburgers don’t count, either.”
“Fair enough.”
Travis shook hair out of his eyes. “So what’s it going to be? I’m putting my world-famous chili on the line. Reagan’s betting some fancy kind of pasta, and it’s sloppy joes for Danielle—and Jamie if she decides to join in.”
The look on Jamie’s face left no doubt how she felt about taking part. She turned to Reagan with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve visited with Travis like you told me to. Can I go back to my room now?”
Disappointment flickered in Reagan’s eyes, but she nodded. “If you want to leave, I guess that’s okay, but I want you to come with us to fly the kites.”
Jamie didn’t waste a second shooting to her feet and making a dramatic exit with her blanket trailing behind her and the cat chasing it. If the undercurrents hadn’t been so strong, it might even have been comical.
Travis waited until she disappeared, then cut the uneasy silence she left behind. “So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?”
Stand up, Max’s inner voice shouted. Make an excuse. Get the hell out of here before you do something stupid.
Max ignored it. “Sauerbraten,” he said abruptly. “I used to help my mom make it. I’m pretty sure I can do it on my own.”
“Sauerbraten?” Reagan arched an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“You don’t believe I can do it?”
“I didn’t say that.” She stood and grinned down at him. “I’m sure you can do anything you put your mind to.”
Not true. He couldn’t keep his mind on business when he was in the same room with her. He couldn’t come up with an easy way to tell her the truth. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her when he was alone. It might not have been the most intelligent decision he’d ever made, but he couldn’t back out now.
Yesterday had been for Reagan, he rationalized. Today was his day. He’d get back to business tomorrow.
WARMED BY THE WEAK spring sunlight, Max walked hand in hand with Reagan across the still-brown grass of the park. Danielle ran ahead holding the kites they’d spent nearly an hour choosing at FoodTown. Still pouting, Jamie lagged behind her sister and scuffed her feet as she walked.
Travis loped along behind the girls and tossed challenges back over his shoulder every few feet. He zeroed in on Max one minute, on Reagan the next. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sauerbraten,” he shouted. “Sure am looking forward to trying it.” A few seconds later he added, “What else are you planning to serve with that pasta you’re making?”
Max had to admit, the guy had a certain amount of charm. No wonder he’d been able to keep the wool pulled over Reagan’s eyes for so long. His enthusiasm was infectious, even to someone who knew the truth about him.
“So, what do you think of my brother?” Reagan asked.
Such hope filled her eyes, Max’s heart felt as if someone had twisted it. “I don’t know him well enough to have an opinion,” he said carefully. “I’ve just met him.”
Reagan’s step slowed. “You’re right, of course. I guess I’m just hoping you’ll tell me he seems settled, mature, wise, sensible and responsible.”
Those probably wouldn’t be the words Max used if he offered an opinion. “It might take me a little longer than a couple of hours to arrive at all those conclusions,” he said with a weak smile.
She leaned her head on Max’s shoulder. “I just hope I’m right this time. I hope he’s changed. He’s always been so irresponsible, so angry and bitter, it breaks my heart.”
“What’s he angry about?”
“All sorts of things that happened after our mother died. I sort of raised him, and I’m afraid I didn’t do such a great job.”
“You sort of raised him? Where was your father?”
“Oh, he was there. He was just so torn up by Mom’s death he didn’t deal well with either of us for the first few years.” The sunlight played in her hair. The breeze toyed with her light sweatshirt, molding it against her breasts.
Max tried to keep his focus, but Mother Nature was having a field day at his expense.
“It’s funny,” Reagan continued. “Travis is twenty-six. I was married and already a mother when I was his age, but I still think of him as a kid.”
“What makes you think you’re to blame for the way he turned out?”
She lifted those eyes to meet Max’s and he couldn’t duck the agony he saw in them. “Travis could be an incredible person if he’d just try a little harder. He would be if I’d been able to give him a firmer hand when he needed it.”
“People aren’t always the product of their environment,” Max argued mildly. “Some people just are the way they are in spite of the best efforts of the people who love them.”
Reagan pulled back with a frown. “That’s ridiculous. People aren’t born bad. Travis certainly wasn’t.”
“The two of you had the same childhood, lived in the same house, went through the same tough times. Why did you turn out one way and he another? His personality must have something to do with the difference. It can’t all be your fault.”
Her frown deepened. The light in her eyes hardened. “Why are your two brothers married with children, and you’re not? Were you born a confirmed bachelor?”
Judging from the number of times he’d found himself pondering a new lifestyle over the past few days, probably not. “Point taken,” he said with a dip of his head. “How old were you when you had to take over?”
“Fourteen.”
“The same age as Danielle?” Max let out a low whistle. “That’s hardly old enough to suddenly be responsible for another person.”
Reagan’s cheeks colored faintly. “I didn’t mean it to sound as if my dad was totally absent. He took care of the big things. He worked, brought in the money and kept a roof over our heads. He just couldn’t be there for the little things, and I should have been able to give them to Travis.”
A host of things about her suddenly seemed much clearer. “That’s why you didn’t go to pieces when your husband died. You didn’t want to flake out on your kids.” The sudden, deep flush of red in her cheeks told him he shouldn’t have said that aloud.
“My dad didn’t
flake out. He was grief-stricken. My mother’s death was completely unexpected.”
“So was your husband’s, wasn’t it?”
Reagan shoved a lock of hair out of her face and looked away. “It wasn’t the same.”
“You were a kid. You’d just lost your mother. You aren’t responsible for what happened to your brother any more than Danielle’s responsible because Jamie wants to take those climbing lessons. You’ve told me that Jamie was born with her love of adventure. Why can’t the same thing be true of Travis?”
“You think he was born with a love of trouble?”
“Some people are addicted to catastrophe. They hate it and love it at the same time. Even when life’s going smoothly, they’ll create discord because life doesn’t feel right unless something’s wrong.”
“Travis isn’t like that.”
Her eyes flashed green fire, and Max knew he’d gone as far as he should for now. “Maybe not. You know him better than I do. And I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t want to risk losing my fair share of that pasta you’ll be making tomorrow.”
He held his breath, waiting to see if she’d abandon the argument.
She leaned closer and put her lips just inches from his. “I just hope your mother hasn’t lost her sauerbraten recipe. You’re going to need it.”
The only person she held a grudge against, it seemed, was herself. “No chance.” Max didn’t pull his mouth away or raise his voice. He kept his tone intimate, as if he were seducing her. “I’ve got a kite here that’ll leave yours in the dust.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I think it’s time for you to put your sauerbraten where your mouth is.”
Max couldn’t resist. He dipped slightly and kissed her. “My mouth,” he said in a low whisper, “isn’t the slightest bit interested in sauerbraten or pasta.”
“Neither is mine.”
The sudden longing to spend the rest of his life looking into her eyes nearly knocked Max off his feet. He wanted to share more moments like this, to jog with her in the mornings, hold her at night, and share all the moments in between. He wanted to sit at her dinner table in the evenings and worry about Jamie and Danielle with her. An image of himself walking one of the girls down the aisle in a wedding gown flashed in front of his eyes, and he wondered what it would be like to be there for them when that day came.