“You almost gave me a heart attack.” He spoke to Beth’s moving form when she reached the end of the pool where he sat.
She stopped swimming abruptly, spun around with a soft cry, and started treading water in the deep end of the pool.
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to swim alone? What if you got a cramp?”
“I…I’m sorry.” Eyes wide open with fear, she stammered. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I tried to be quiet.” The words tumbled from her mouth as her gaze darted back and forth between him and his gun.
He’d scared the crap out of her. Just what she needed.
Good going, O’Malley.
“Sorry, Beth. You didn’t do anything wrong. I reacted instinctively. Cop habits die hard.” He sighed and decided to take a direct approach. “I won’t hurt you or the kids, Beth. You guys don’t have to be afraid of me.” He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension.
“I know.” With choppy strokes, she swam toward the ladder. Water sluiced down her slim form as she climbed out of the pool. She turned toward him and moonlight bathed her skin. She was still too skinny, but nicely shaped, curved in all the right places. Her breasts were just the right size to fill his palms, and despite the warm air, her nipples poked through the wet fabric of her suit. She caught him staring and quickly wrapped her robe around her body.
Jack swallowed and blinked.
As she sank into a chair a few feet away, she clamped her trembling hands together and tucked her legs under the calf-length wrap, covering every inch of lovely skin.
Guilt pricked Jack’s conscience. Maybe he could kick a puppy later to round out his day.
“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake the kids.” She glanced over at him. “You came all the way down here without your crutches! Did you hurt yourself?”
Great, he scared the bejesus out of her while she looked out for his welfare. If he hadn’t felt like a total shit before, he did now.
“No, I used a cane.” And wasn’t that a hit to his already whimpering ego. “No harm done.”
She nodded. “I’m glad.”
“You know, it’s Friday. You’ve put in more than forty hours already this week. Take the day off; spend it relaxing with the kids. I can handle the place for one day.” Jack stretched his long legs out in front of him. “There’s a movie theater and a small shopping mall about ten miles down the interstate. It’s not exactly a metropolis, but you haven’t taken the kids anywhere since you got here. You can take the pickup in the garage anytime. No offense, but your car doesn’t look very reliable.”
“None taken. It’s a piece of shit.” She surprised him with that response, and his lips pulled up at the corners. “We don’t need much entertainment.” She hesitated, then added, “The kids like it here.” And it was true. While she’d been working with the horses and tackling the bookkeeping, the kids had spent long days swimming in the pool and touring the grounds with Henry.
“I’m glad to see them settling in. Ben seems to be getting comfortable, but I don’t think I’ve heard Katie say one word.”
“She’s a little shy, especially around men. She’s not used to them. Ben still remembers his father, but Katie was a baby when he died.” Beth spoke softly, her voice thick with emotion.
“How did he die?” Jack asked.
“He was killed in a car accident on his way home from the gym. Very ironic, because he was a fireman and I was always so afraid when he went to work. I never thought to be worried when he was off duty.” She stopped abruptly.
Jack glanced sideways. Her eyes took on a distant look, and moisture gathered in the corners. She wiped a hand across her cheek.
Now he’d made her cry. Nice going.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s none of my business. I just wondered why they were so quiet all the time,” Jack said.
The expression that flashed across her face was one of complete devastation. She had loved her husband very much. A short burst of longing gathered in Jack’s chest. If he died tomorrow, no one would miss him like that.
“It’s all right. He’s been gone seven years now. We coped. Ben had the hardest time understanding. He kept asking when Daddy was coming home. His memories fade a little every year. I wonder if he’ll remember his dad at all when he’s an adult.”
Pale gray colored the horizon. As if the approaching dawn made her uncomfortable with revelations best left in the dark, she rose to leave. “I’d better get dressed. The kids will be up soon.”
Jack watched her stride purposefully up the path toward the house. Then he hobbled over to the pool. Ripping open the Velcro of his brace, he set it on the edge and lowered himself into the cool water, easing the duel fires in his knee and groin.
He doubted that seven-year-old grief, no matter how heart-felt, was the reason for her predawn swim. What was the demon that drove her from her bed in the dark? He’d have to walk a careful line to avoid scaring her away.
But he would uncover her secret. And something told him he’d better do it soon.
After a short soak, Jack limped his way back to the house and changed into dry shorts. As he pulled a faded T-shirt over his head, something crashed in the kitchen.
He poked his head through the doorway. Katie stood in front of the open refrigerator in a large puddle of orange juice. The jagged pieces of the broken glass pitcher were scattered around her bare feet. Juice dripped from the front of the cabinets, the inside of the refrigerator, the front of her skinny legs, and was spreading across the floor. Raw terror flashed across the child’s face when Jack walked into the room.
Afraid she would step on a piece of glass, Jack shouted, “Don’t move,” as he stepped into his sneakers.
Eyes wide, Katie backed away from Jack, oblivious to the shards around her feet.
As he approached, her darting eyes measured the distances between herself and the door and Jack. The realization that the child’s panic was a result of her fear of him, and not the glass on the floor, gave Jack a sick feeling in his stomach. He lowered his voice as if speaking to a victim.
Because that’s clearly what she was.
“Katie, it’s OK. I’m not mad. It’s only a little spilled juice. I don’t want you to cut your feet on that glass on the floor. Please don’t move anymore. I’m going to walk toward you now.” Jack kept his voice soft and steady as he slowly moved toward the little girl, who was frozen in place. Her green eyes locked on Jack’s. By the time he reached her, she was shaking violently.
“I’m going to pick you up now.” He put his big hands under her arms and lifted her, holding her away from his body. His knee screamed in protest as he turned and carried her to the other side of the kitchen. His long fingers completely encircled her thin chest. He set her on the counter, pulled over a kitchen chair, and sat down in front of her both to appear smaller and because his leg was about to give out.
The tremor of her lower lip made Jack’s heart ache deep in his chest. His physical injury was insignificant compared to the psychological damage this child had endured. He cleared his throat and swallowed his pity.
“Let me check your feet for glass.” He reached for a kitchen towel and dried off her legs. His hands dwarfed the child’s feet as he checked thoroughly for cuts. “You look OK to me. Does anything hurt?”
Katie shook her head. She was still wide-eyed, but Jack was relieved that her trembling had subsided.
Henry barked from outside the kitchen door. “Why don’t you go outside with Henry while I clean this up? I wouldn’t want him to cut his paws on any broken pieces of glass. Put some shoes on.”
Katie waited for Jack to rise and back away before she slipped from the counter and bolted out the door, grabbing her sneakers on the fly.
He watched through the window as she put both arms around the big dog and buried her face in his furry neck. The dog stood still and waited patiently. Henry turned toward Jack, and met his gaze through the glass with a look of surprising intelligence.
Jack’s feelings shifted from sadness to anger at whoever was responsible for Katie’s fear. He had seen a lot of abused children in his long career, but he never ceased to be horrified at the torment an adult would inflict upon a helpless child. He cursed under his breath while tossing paper towels on the floor to sop up the juice. The human race is truly despicable.
Looking up, he saw Beth standing in the doorway, her face drawn and tight. She’d changed into jeans and a modest tank top.
“Let me help with that.” She crossed the room and opened the pantry, taking out a broom and dustpan. She squatted down and began to pick up the larger pieces of broken glass.
Jack’s anger deflated as she looked up at him.
“Who hurt her?” he asked softly.
“No one ever hurt Katie,” Beth answered, but she refused to meet his gaze and kept her attention firmly focused on the floor. She pushed the rest of the shards and sopping paper towels into the dustpan. Then she dumped the whole mess into the garbage can.
“Then what is she so afraid of?”
Beth didn’t answer right away but continued to clean up spilled juice from various surfaces. She returned the cleaning equipment to the pantry, and with slumped shoulders, she softly closed the door. Her hand clenched the knob, and she kept her gaze on the floor. “It’s a long story, Jack. I can’t talk about it. Please give her some time.”
“If you think she needs counseling, I know some good people.”
“Not yet.” Beth turned to face him. She straightened her shoulders and stood as tall as her tiny frame would allow. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but I can’t do that right now. I can’t explain either. Please don’t ask me any more questions. I’m doing the best I can.”
“All right,” Jack said softly. He knew a futile argument when he saw one. “But remember, I might be able to help.”
On impulse he reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and was shocked when she didn’t flinch. Her eyes widened slightly. Then her gaze shifted from his hand, still resting lightly on her shoulder, to his face. Not only was there no trace of fear in her expression, but he could see that fact surprised the hell out of her, too. Her pupils dilated. His fingertips moved, just an inch, a nearly imperceptible caress across her delicate skin. With a quick intake of breath, Beth drew her lower lip between her teeth, and Jack went hard as stone in one heartbeat. Need began to pulse deep inside him, thrumming through his veins, each beat of his heart urging him closer. To touch. To taste. To take.
With his eyes locked on hers, he leaned toward her. Her scent enveloped him, fueling the primitive longing that flooded through him. His hand slid across her collarbone to encircle the delicate column of her throat, where her skin was like warm satin and her pulse throbbed under his thumb. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
The instant he broke eye contact, Beth blinked. Her jaw tightened and she backed away from the physical contact almost before he could register the undeniable surge of heat in her eyes.
Almost—but not quite. Her body wanted him, even if her brain wasn’t on board. Jack’s hand itched to touch that smooth, bare skin again.
“Beth.” He took a half step forward. Beth backed up double that distance, and he let his hand fall to his side. Shit. He’d pushed her too far. She dropped her gaze to the floor, her retreat and refusal to look at him clear signs she regretted the moment that had just passed between them.
Moment? Hell, it’d barely been a few seconds. Damned good seconds, though.
“I’m going down to the barn to feed the horses. Ben’s already down there.” Beth turned away from him and toward the door, pausing at the threshold. “I wish things were different. If you want us to leave, say the word. I understand how we could make you uncomfortable. We’re not exactly the Cleavers. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.”
“Beth, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not the one that’s uncomfortable. This is a good place for kids.”
Without turning to face him, she nodded. “You’re right. This is a good place. Thank you.” She went out the door and onto the patio.
Jack watched her stride down the path toward the barn. Katie and Henry raced to meet her. Beth swung Katie up and hugged her tightly before setting her down and continuing to walk. Beth held her daughter’s hand on one side and reached down to scratch Henry’s head with the other. The big dog pranced neatly at her side as if he hadn’t failed obedience school twice. They entered the grove of trees that separated the barn from the house and disappeared from view.
Jack threw the towel across the kitchen. He wished he knew how to help them. Without information, however, he was power-less. It had taken nearly a week before he could touch her without sending her through the roof, and this latest move had only made things worse. One step forward, twenty steps back. Christ, at this rate, it’d be years before she’d trust him.
His gut told him she didn’t have years. She needed help now.
“Are you OK?” Beth squeezed her daughter’s hand as they entered the patch of trees between the house and barn. This early in the morning, the shaded copse was cool, even in midsummer. She inhaled the scent of fresh pine and felt her jagged nerves smooth over—and let the breeze chill her out-of-control libido.
Jack asked far too many questions. And every time he looked at her, she could see the suspicion swimming in his eyes. But there’d been much more than just suspicion in those deep brown eyes this morning. A heated look that sent a quiver through her belly even now. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her. His hand had been warm and solid, and it had taken all of her resolve to move away from it when she’d really wanted to get closer. He’d been about to kiss her, and God help her, she’d wanted to let him do that and more. She could practically feel his mouth claiming hers, his strong fingers roaming the rest of her body. Her nipples tightened and damp heat pooled between her legs as she pictured the unmistakable desire in Jack’s eyes. The impressive torso she’d seen this morning at the pool wasn’t helping matters. Jack had a runner’s body, broad shoulders, long and lean muscled limbs, the kind of hard physique that made a woman feel soft and utterly feminine.
She realized with a pang of regret that they should go. Find somewhere else to hide. Somewhere she wasn’t tempted to let her defenses down again.
“He’s not mean.” Katie’s answer pulled Beth out of her thoughts.
“No, he isn’t.” Beth’s heart squeezed at the surprise in her daughter’s voice.
Katie continued, “He’s kinda like Uncle James.”
It had taken James a while to relate to the kids. Like Jack, the older man had never had any children of his own. After her aunt’s death, James had closed himself off. But he’d cared, and eventually Ben and Katie softened his hardened heart. James and the kids had grown close.
“So you’re OK staying here with Jack for a while?” Emerging into the sunlit warmth of the barnyard, Beth stopped and turned to face Katie. Her daughter blinked up at her.
“It’s nice here.” Katie draped one arm around Henry’s neck. The dog turned and licked her face. “And I don’t want to leave Henry. We don’t have to go away, do we?”
Beth closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat.
They really should go. Things here weren’t turning out quite the way she’d planned. With a sigh, she raised her eyelids. Katie’s lower lip trembled. Beth’s resolve crumbled.
Jack might be curious, but she didn’t think he posed any danger to them. Not the life-or-death kind she was worried about right now anyway. Still, she should keep her distance.
“No, sweetheart.” Beth smiled. “We can stay, for a while anyway.”
Katie’s grin made Beth’s heart ache. “Good. It’s pretty here.”
A hoof banged against wood.
“We’d better get the horses their breakfast.”
Katie turned and skipped toward the barn door.
Eventually she’d have to take her little girl away from here. This wouldn’t
last forever. Nothing good ever did.
Just as her daughter passed into the barn’s shadow, Beth paused, her gaze inexplicably drawn to the thick woods on the far side of the pasture. A naked and vulnerable feeling settled over her, as if she were being watched. The hair on the nape of her neck rose in primitive warning. She pivoted to scan the rest of her surroundings. The only sign of life were thumbnail-sized white butterflies hovering over dandelions in the weedy pasture. She inhaled deeply through her nose and blew the breath out through her mouth.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice drew Beth’s attention back to the barn entrance, where the little girl waited, eyes opened wide as she read her mother’s anxious expression.
Beth smoothed the alarm from her face. “Nothing, honey. Nothing at all.”
But as she joined her daughter, goose bumps rose on her arms, and her gaze was pulled back to the dark fringe of forest.
He lowered the binoculars and sank deeper into the underbrush. The woman couldn’t have seen him. Not only was he too far away to be visible to the naked eye, he was completely concealed behind thick foliage like a hunter in a deer blind.
Yet she’d seemed to look right at him.
He raised the binoculars again and watched her turn her attention back to the little girl. After a moment of conversation, they both vanished into the barn.
Sure looked like her, but that wasn’t his call.
He had his orders. Follow up on all promising inquiries. Make visual contact. Obtain photos. Report.
On to step three. He had two more possibilities that still needed to be checked out.
He pulled the high-powered digital camera from its case, screwed the super telephoto lens into place, and attached the tripod. Even though the image would be small, with twenty-one megapixels of resolution, the photo could be cropped and enlarged. By the time he was done editing the shots, he’d be able to count the crows’ feet around the woman’s eyes.
She Can Run Page 6