He wanted to back off, but here, in the room his mom had made into a temporary home for him and his brothers, he couldn’t retreat. His mom would never forgive him. He wished she were here right now. She would know what to say.
“Dani.” She didn’t look at him. His hand shook when he touched her chin, gently nudged her face his way. “You didn’t kill anyone. Hayes killed Margaret Oliver. Your daughter, well, that was an accident. Accidents happen. You know that.”
Dani shook her head. “It was my job to take care of her. I should have reminded him to buckle her. He always forgot to buckle her.”
Her face crumpled, but she fought it.
“It should have been me. It should have been me.”
“No, look at me, Dani. You’re wrong. If you’d died your baby would have been raised by the brother of a killer. The way things are, well, they’re the way they’re supposed to be. I don’t know how I know. I just do. My dad always told me you play the hand you’re dealt, the best you can.”
The first tears breached the dam she had tried to put up, rolled hot and wet down her cheeks.
“As for Oliver, she died doing what she was supposed to do. She kept faith with herself, with you, and with the Service. I can guarantee she’s resting easier than McBride.”
She wanted to believe him, but she didn’t know how to get from where she was to where he was. There was no bridge, just a chasm gaping wide as hell itself that she was being pushed toward. “You would never do what I did.”
“Because it’s my job. Just like it was Oliver’s job to keep you alive. She did it.” He grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him. “With your help. Staying alive was your job. And you did it. If you hadn’t her death would have been for nothing. Because you lived, her death means something.”
Dani stared at him, felt something shift inside. It hurt, but it was a good hurt, kind of like pushing out a baby. A really large guilt baby. She tried to make her mouth smile. It wobbled wildly. “My job sucks.”
He looked so relieved, she wanted to laugh, but when her mouth opened sobs, not laughs were waiting in the queue. The attempted laugh broke in the middle and she fell into the chasm.
Matt caught her and held her against the solid wall of his chest. It was a relief to have her here against his heart, even if she was scalding the front of his shirt with her tears. The silent, racking sobs finally quieted. Still following his mom’s lead, he lifted her onto his lap, glad when she burrowed against him. He kneaded the back of her neck, taking guilty pleasure in touching her, even if all she wanted or needed from him was comfort. He smoothed her hair back from her wet face.
Dani sniffed, used the sleeve of the robe to wipe her nose, then said thickly, “I really suck at this angst crap.”
He chuckled. He should have let her go then. He had done what he needed to. She would rest now. The problem was, he was tired, too. Tired made it harder for a man to do what he should, made it easier to do what he wanted. Right now he wanted to hold her. She felt right in his arms, like God had made her for him. When she had turned the front of his shirt soggy, it had soaked right through to his willpower. He tried to wring it out. “You should go to bed.”
“Hmmm.” She didn’t move.
His back hurt and his arm was going to sleep. It didn’t matter. Everything else was pain-free and wide awake.
“I’ll help you,” he squeezed out.
“Can’t,” she muttered. “Double.”
“What?”
She yawned. “Haven’t you heard song ’bout sleeping single double bed? Ver’ dangerous.”
He grinned, felt tender coming on and didn’t even flinch. She gave a shuddering sigh, her whole body going soft. He held her, counted to twenty while he breathed in her coconut scent and memorized how she felt lying heavy against him, then he did what he had to. He lifted her, carried her to the bed, lay her on it and let her go.
For a moment he studied the way her wet lashes lay in spikes against her flushed cheeks, the tumble of her hair against the white pillow, the way her body rose and fell in all the right places. As need rose in him like a wild fire, he tucked the thick quilt his mother’s mother had made securely around her body and turned away to shut the window and the curtains.
He had to pass by her one more time to get out. In this room thick with memories of his mom and dad, he paused by the bed they’d tucked him in as a kid. It seemed right to bend and smooth the damp hair back from her face, then press a kiss to her to the soft, salty skin of her temple.
He straightened and turned, walked away with the taste of her skin in his mouth, knowing he didn’t feel like a parent. He also did feel like he hadn’t let his folks down.
TWENTY-THREE
Dani woke lying on her face, merciless sunlight streaming in the window, the smell of bacon frying, and Matt standing by the bed wearing nothing but a pair of hip-hugging jeans and holding out a can of her favorite soda with the tab already popped. She appreciated the soda and the bare chest. The sun she could have done without. It stabbed into eyes almost swelled shut from crying them out last night. One hand burrowed free of blankets, accepted the soda and applied it to one eye.
“What time is it?”
“Almost ten.” The bed sank from his weight. “How do you feel?”
“Like I just woke up.” She moved the can so she could see his muscled bare flesh and dark hair tapering into the waistband of his jeans. It was a reason to relent a bit. “Other than that, not bad.”
Matt grinned. Luke, after learning Dani had cried all over Matt last night, had offered some brotherly advice. “Go carefully into her den, bro. She’ll feel better, but, oh man, will she hate what it did to her eyes.”
“Luke thought you might need this.” Matt produced a cold pack he’d lifted from the first aid kit, twisted it to mix the chemicals, then handed it to her. “Might be easier to apply than the can.”
“Thanks.” Dani rolled over and exchanged soda for pack, then took a drink out of the can.
“When you feel up to it, there’s grub in the kitchen.”
“Grub?” She lifted one edge of the ice pack. “Grub? You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t everybody?”
“No.” She recovered her eyes.
“So that would make you…a night person?”
“I used to be, when I could sleep. Now I’m not anything.”
It was obvious he was in sad shape. She even looked good to him all grumpy and icing her swollen eyes. He looked down where the hand holding the soda can almost touched his. His hand was big, the fingers square and callused, the nails blunt and serviceable. Her hand was slim and graceful, the nails perfect pink ovals. His skin was brown from a summer of work and sports. Hers was safe house pale. Soft and hard. Man and woman.
Trouble, he reminded himself.
“Men,” she murmured, “greet each other with a sock on the arm, women with a hug… the hug wears better in the long run.”
Matt gave her a wary look. “What?”
Dani lowered the pack. “Thanks. For the hug. And for letting me weep all over your chest. I feel like crap, but in a good way.” Then she smiled.
He had taken a bullet once. It had felt less lethal than her smile going into his heart. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Good.”
Somewhere under her morning mood, something else started to simmer. She took a long drink of soda. It took the edge off the morning grump, but left the sizzle unchecked. It wasn’t helping matters that his chest, his really fine chest, was almost in her face. She wanted to touch him more than she wanted chocolate. Not good.
She cleared her throat. “Where’s Luke?”
“Outside chopping some firewood.”
“For real?” Matt nodded. Dani chuckled. “This is a bastion of rustic isn’t it? I guess I should be grateful you have beds and a bath.”
Matt grinned. “You can thank my mom for that. She likes her rustic tempered with a few amenities.”
My mom. He had a mom. Of course she knew he had a mom. But—he had a mom. The lonesome lawman wasn’t as lonesome as the romance writer. For the first time it hit her how little, how very little of his life she was a part of. It worked better than the soda at killing sizzle. She smiled stiffly. “Thank her for me, if you think of it.”
His brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
Bad time to find out it was possible for a man to be too perceptive. “I was just trying to imagine you with a mom. It doesn’t go with the gun any better than grocery shopping did.”
Matt examined her smile, found it missing the warmth and edged with strain. Her mom had died when she was eighteen. Tough time to lose a mom. Not that there was a good time to lose a parent, he thought, thinking about his dad.
“You’d like my mom. She’s good with a gun.” He grinned. “Had to be good riding herd on three boys and a husband.” His mom would like Dani, too. If things were different—
“Something’s burning down here!” Luke hollered up the stairs.
“Coming!” You play the hand you’re dealt. He stood up. “Take your time. I’ll keep your breakfast warm for you.”
“Thanks. I won’t be long.” All she had to do was get up and face a day that could be nasty. She could do the “life in review” thing or she could watch Matt leave. Since the guy couldn’t look anything but great in jeans, she opted for the latter. It was shallow, but she wasn’t in the mood for angst or for deep. Shallow was better anyway. Her crying jag had practically drowned her and Matt, but she felt more buoyant and flexible again. Taken with her clean sweep at poker last night, she had to wonder if her luck was changing.
Dani shed the pajamas, pulled on jeans and a long sleeved shirt. After a detour through the bathroom, she settled at the table with a plate of food she didn’t want, but would eat because he’d fixed it for her with his big, sexy hands.
“Do we have a plan for today?” She tipped her soda can back and felt the cool bite of it flow down her throat.
“Anderson won’t be ready until late this afternoon, so I figured, this is a popular wilderness playground. If we stayed off the beaten paths, we could do a little hiking or rock climbing—”
She spluttered, then coughed to clear shock from her throat, fixed an incredulous gaze on him and said, “Excuse me? Rock climbing? As in going perpendicularly up the side of something high?”
Matt arched his brows as he briskly scrubbed the frying pan. “That’s the general idea. Though I’ve never heard it put quite like that before.”
“You can’t be serious?”
Matt looked at her. “I can’t?”
“How could you know so much about me and not know I don’t do up?”
“I know you don’t like heights—”
“Saying I don’t like heights is like saying that Clinton waffles a little. I don’t climb.”
Matt’s lips twitched. “Not even stairs?”
“Only under duress.” She took another drink, looking at him warily over the can. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a phobia, because I don’t consider wanting to avoid plummeting to my death an unreasonable fear, but if you really need to climb something, I could watch. Probably.”
He smiled, shook his head. “Luke and I thought it might make the waiting easier. You want some toast?”
She shook her head. “No thanks. This is great.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but Luke came in, his arms full of chopped wood. When Dani finished eating, the three of them went into the living room so the men could check their equipment in preparation for the climb they were putting off for her.
Dani settled in a rustic chair in front of a wall of windows, her position such that she had a view of the panorama of mountain and valley and the men at work. Despite her doubts about the sanity of it all, she took an interest in the equipment Matt and Luke were assessing for worthiness. Just because she was afraid of heights, didn’t mean her characters had to be.
“What’s that?” she asked when Matt pulled out what looked like an emaciated speedo.
“This is a harness,” Matt held it up for her inspection. “It’s what keeps you from plummeting to your death.”
“Really.” She ignored his ironic tone. “Doesn’t look up to the job if you ask me.”
“Oh, it is,” Matt said. He stepped into the harness, then showed her how it worked, in concert with rope and carabiners, to forestall plummeting.
Dani was impressed—with the way it looked over his jeans. It emphasized all the right things. She looked up and caught him watching her, his grin one that told her he knew what she was getting out of the demonstration. She grinned back and felt her throat go dry with wanting what she couldn’t have.
“I think I’ll get me a soda. You guys want something?”
“I wouldn’t mind a beer.” Luke looked up from the rope he was checking for wear.
“Same here,” Matt said.
“Two beers. Okay. Anything else?” Two feet separated Dani from Matt, but it felt like they were chest to chest, heart to heart.
Matt stared at her for an endless moment, started to say something, stopped, then shook his head. “Just a beer, thanks.”
“Right.” She wanted him to say it, but how could he? The timing was wrong. It always had been.
Dani side-stepped their gear to the kitchen door, had her hand on it to push it open, then hesitated. It didn’t make any sense, but it felt like if she stepped through that door, she couldn’t go back. There’s nothing to go back to, she reminded herself. If you have any backbone at all, you won’t look back. You’ll just keep going forward until this is all over and you’re home. Too bad backbone got cried out of her with the angst.
She looked back and was glad she did. Matt was still watching her, something buried deep in his eyes that erased the strange chill and made her feel warm and safe again. She would be quite happy to just stand there forever looking her fill. He didn’t move.
If one of them didn’t do something, she realized, they’d start looking like coffee commercial clones. Since Dani didn’t like coffee, she pushed the door open and stepped through, then let it swish back into place. It swung a couple of times, giving her several brief, diminishing glimpses of Matt before it stopped.
She sighed, then realized just how much she had been doing that. She would have to style herself a weeping willow if she didn’t stop it. She started to turn around and felt something brush against her neck, feather-light, followed by a sting, like a bug bit her neck. She started to lift her hand to slap at it, but a strange numbness spread from the spot faster than she could think, let alone move. Like an onlooker of her own crash, she felt her knees buckle, saw the floor coming up to meet her.
Arms caught her, cradled her. Matt. Her hero. Her head fell back against his shoulder. Darkness spiraled in like a tornado, but it didn’t touch down in her head until after she saw Spook in the center.
Her lips formed a cry that couldn’t get out.
Spook smiled.
* * * *
Matt turned around to find Luke watching him with that big brother look on his face. He stared at him, wishing he wouldn’t.
He didn’t. “You gonna be able to get off for the climb?”
“I’d better be able to.” Relieved, Matt knelt and began stringing carabiners on a sling. “I need the rest.”
“Good.” He was quiet a minute. “I saw Judith the other day. She looked like Judith. Only happier.”
“Didn’t know she was back in town.” Matt kept coiling rope. He didn’t want to think about Judith. It reminded him how lousy he was at marriage.
“Parents having some big do. She asked how you were.”
“What’d you tell her?” Matt packed the biners in a pack, then started coiling rope.
“I told her you were the same. She thought that was funny.”
“I’m glad she’s finally developed a sense of humor.”
“She’s developing more than that. She’s with
kid.”
Matt stopped coiling. “Now that’s news. I thought she was afraid of overpopulating the world.”
“Guess she changed her mind.”
“Guess so.” Matt started coiling again. It didn’t bother him that Judith was willing to give her lawyer-husband what she wouldn’t give him. Sometime during the seven days of Dani, that part of his past had lost its sting. He could look at the people they had been and see that their inability to stay married to each other had more to do with who they were than what they did. That he could have done what she wanted and they still wouldn’t be married right now. Was he happy for Judith? He was. Odd. When she cheated on him, it hit him hard, but only in his pride. He could see that now. It didn’t matter. Was this what the shrinks called closure? He almost shuddered. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up on one of those daytime talk shows sharing with America.
Whatever it was, he felt free—to do what? Let his hormones lead him into another mismatch? Take away the lust and what was left between Dani and him? He liked up. She didn’t. He was sports, beer, and pretzels. She was romance, Diet Dr. Pepper and M&M’s—Dr. Pepper. Had Alice found the cans in the refrigerator? He frowned. He had been thinking of Hayes like a killer, but he was also a man who knew Dani very well. Don’t go off half cocked, Kirby. Just because Hayes found some soda cans, didn’t mean he could find this place.
A climber. Hayes was a climber. Matt looked out the plate glass window at Long’s Peak. It wouldn’t be easy, but if Hayes knew the area well and had searched even half way thoroughly when he was in the apartment.
“We need to move, Dani now.” He stopped, a chill heading down his back with dry ice fingers. “How long does it take to get a couple of beers?”
Luke looked at the closed kitchen door. “Not this long.”
Fear kicked in, trying to mess with his head, but Matt knew how to block it out. He’d always known. He pulled his gun, signaled for Luke to go right. He went left. When they were on either side of the door, he mouthed, “Cover me.”
Luke nodded. Matt kicked the door, waited a beat, then went in fast. He could have gone in slow.
The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy Page 25