A MAN TO TRUST

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A MAN TO TRUST Page 24

by Justine Davis


  "So maybe someday you'll go looking for what you missed?"

  He sensed her gaze switch to him, but he didn't, couldn't, look at her. He could feel her studying him, knew she was guessing at what was behind the words he hadn't been able to hold back. By the time she finally answered him, his stomach was knotted so badly he barely noticed the ache in his side.

  "No," she said. "When I was … with my father I never felt safe, like a child should. Then I was on the run, never staying in one place long enough to really have friends, or feel like I had a home, until I was eighteen. Cecelia did her best, but there was always that feeling of … temporariness. When I bought Oak Tree, it was because I knew it would give me what I wanted more than anything else … a home. A place to always come back to. A place where I belonged, where I could stay, where I was safe."

  Ignoring the twinge in his side, Cruz let out the breath he'd been holding, unaware of really doing it. What he was aware of was something he knew now he should have realized long ago; Kelsey's inner strength, the strength that had enabled her to survive such hell, even as a child, would never fail her. She was not the kind of woman who would try to go back, to recapture something she'd missed. She faced forward, accepted the past and went on, in the hopes of finding something even better.

  "Safe is nice," Sam murmured as they pulled into the driveway, sounding more than half-asleep. Cruz stopped the truck but didn't shut off the motor, didn't move at all; he didn't want to do anything that would stop Kelsey's soft words.

  "Yes," she said. "It is. It makes all the other good things you can feel possible. You can't be comfortable or happy or glad, you can't feel joy or love, unless you feel safe first. Like your father makes you feel."

  "Uh-hmm." Sam's mumbled assent was clearly her last contribution before she went soundly to sleep in Kelsey's arms. Cruz knew she'd gone to sleep, and he knew Kelsey knew. So there was only one reason for what she whispered next.

  "Like he makes me feel."

  Cruz's hands clenched on the steering wheel. "God, Kelsey," he said, his voice hoarse.

  "Let's get her inside," was all she said. "She's a tired little girl."

  He was shaking, he realized as he walked around the truck. And he knew better than to think it was because of his injury; that was nothing compared to the shock Kelsey had just delivered.

  "I've got her," Kelsey said when he moved to take the sleeping child. "If it's all right," she added cautiously.

  "It is," he said, still sounding as hoarse as he had when she said those simple words that knocked the wind out of him more thoroughly than Sutter's knife had. He looked at Sam, sleeping trustingly against Kelsey's shoulder. "With … both of us, I think."

  He wanted to watch as she put the child to bed, but he knew he needed a moment alone to get himself together. It had been a long, tiring night, but he wasn't about to postpone this until morning. Well, later this morning, anyway, he amended with a rueful glance at his watch, which read well after midnight. Something else would come up, some other interruption, and he wasn't willing to wait.

  He went into the den, checked the cages—Slither's in particular, with a wry, halfhearted smile—and added the whimsical raccoon Ryan had carved to the collection. He heard Kelsey's light footsteps coming down the hall and marveled at the sudden tautness that came over him simply at her presence.

  "She's out for the count. Thanks for … letting me do that."

  I hope you get used to it, he thought, but held back the words this time.

  "How's Slither?" she asked, coming to stand behind him.

  "He seems fine."

  "Still hate him?"

  He managed a lopsided grin. "Let's just say I still hate the species, but this individual member I'll try to tolerate better."

  He checked the latch on the snake's domain once more, aware he was doing it simply for something to do with his hands.

  "When Sam started school, she came home with the idea that her mother had left because she was too much trouble to take care of." He heard Kelsey's pained sigh, but he kept going. "I tried to explain to her that she had nothing to do with it, and I think she believed me, but sometimes I wonder if her need to take care of all these critters isn't … part of that somehow."

  "Perhaps," Kelsey said softly. "Maybe in her mind it's a way to make things right where she can."

  He turned to her then. "Like you?"

  "Me?"

  "Isn't that what you're trying to do?" He smiled, then lifted a brow at her. "But I think it might be better if you did it … officially. Maybe a halfway house, or a sanctioned shelter? Maybe I can even help you through the process. I'm sure the paperwork is a pain."

  Kelsey gaped at him. "I… You know?"

  "I have for a while. Gage told me that he'd heard from kids on the street about you, that you gave shelter with no questions asked as long as they played by your rules and agreed to at least talk about getting help after a couple of weeks of refuge."

  "I … didn't think… I didn't tell you because…"

  She stopped floundering, and Cruz reached out to grip her shoulders. "I know. You thought I'd … do something coplike. Shut you down or something."

  "I did … at first. But not … anymore," she added, so urgently it warmed him, gave him the nerve to go on.

  "You're not doing anything that could get you in real legal hot water, but without some official authorization, you're walking a mighty fine line. Especially if some parents ever wanted to get nasty and go after you for contributing to the delinquency of a minor."

  "I … know."

  "Besides," he said, keeping his tone conversational, despite the fact that his pulse had suddenly picked up, "it's not going to work that way anymore."

  "What isn't?"

  "I mean, once word gets out, kids are going to be wary. You're going to have to go official and have them sent to you, not just wander in off the street. But I can't think of any better use for the money your bastard of a father left you."

  "Cruz, what are you—"

  "A cop's wife can't be circumventing the system so blatantly, after all. But she can change it from the inside."

  She stared at him, looking so stunned that Cruz felt a sudden qualm. Had he read her wrong? Panic made his voice a little ragged.

  "I … love you, Kelsey. I know it's asking a lot, to take on a ready-made family, especially one of two-, four- and—" he gestured at Slither "—no-legged creatures, but—"

  "No," she said, cutting him off breathlessly. "No, it's perfect. Your family is perfect, critters and all."

  "No, it's not perfect. But it could be." He tightened his grip on her shoulders, staring down at her intently. "Kelsey?"

  "Yes," she whispered. "Oh, yes."

  He pulled her into his arms, and she came eagerly, hungrily, and Cruz nearly shuddered at the utter rightness of it.

  The animals, immune to the foibles of human emotion, ignored them.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  « ^

  "You look gorgeous, girl!" Kit Walker said, reaching up to tuck in a stray flower from the small spray Kelsey had chosen to wear in her hair instead of a veil.

  Kelsey smiled at the blonde; they'd become friends in the past two months, once Kelsey was certain the woman's delight that the man she'd once dated had fallen in love was sincere.

  "I love Cruz," she'd assured Kelsey, "and I always will. But I'm not in love with him. And I'm delighted that he found you."

  And she had meant it. Kelsey couldn't doubt it; there was too much genuine pleasure in the woman's eyes.

  "Gorgeous." Ryan Buckhart agreed with Kit's assessment as he stood behind the chair his now very pregnant wife was sitting in, one hand protectively on her shoulder.

  "Look who's talking," Kelsey said, eyeing the exotically handsome man, who looked even more so in the tux he was wearing as best man. Dolores, who was loving her role as Kelsey's matron of honor, had nearly passed out at the sight of him. Kelsey never would have thought herself able t
o tease the imposing Ryan, but she did it easily now, knowing he would simply grin back at her.

  Laughing at the exchange, Lacey stood. "You need to get back to your best-man chores, while I find Caitlin and Quisto. I have a feeling there's something she and I need to talk about." She patted her swollen belly archly.

  "Really?" Ryan looked startled. "You think she's…?"

  "I think so," Lacey said.

  "I hope so," Kelsey said, knowing Caitlin and Quisto truly wanted a baby. She'd only met the strawberry blonde and her lethally charming husband a few weeks ago, but she'd felt an instant kinship with the woman. Cruz had told her they had a lot in common, explaining about the Neutral Zone, the club Caitlin ran for street kids, and even suggesting that they might be able to work in concert. They were already making plans.

  "And I have to go find Gage," Kit said. "It's my job to rescue him from Pam, before she can set him up with her bubbleheaded granddaughter."

  Gage, Kelsey thought as Kit gave her a final hug. She'd come to know him better, too, this driven man with the young face and the too-old eyes. Or at least as much as he allowed. She'd never seen anyone who seemed so divided; he seemed to function normally on a day-to-day basis, but those eyes…

  He looks like my animals do when they're hurt. They can't say it, so it shows in their eyes.

  Sam's words, full of the simple wisdom of childhood, rang in her mind.

  Sam. The bonus in this unexpected miracle, the little girl she already loved. Not only because she was so much a part of the man she loved beyond her wildest dreams, but for her own unique personality and charm. It wouldn't always be easy, she knew, but she would do her best. With Cruz's help, it would be enough.

  Alone in what had once been her room but was now theirs, she thought of how it had all worked out. Sam had been delighted with her new room, and even more so with Kelsey's suggestion that the entire toolroom adjacent to the garage be remodeled for her animals. The child was settling in and was seemingly happy with the new arrangements.

  She thought, too, of Cruz's parents, who were the kind, loving souls she'd known they would have to be to have produced a son like theirs, and who had welcomed her with joy for the simple reason that she had made that son willing to risk loving again, something they had feared he would never do.

  She had more than she'd ever expected, and there was little room in her full heart for regrets. If only…

  "Kelsey?" She turned, startled, as Cruz's voice came from the doorway. "I know this is … against tradition, I'm not supposed to see you, but I wanted to give you your present before we start."

  "Present? Cruz, you gave me my necklace last night," she said, puzzled; the small golden oak tree he'd had made for her had already brought her to tears.

  "That was just in case … this one didn't get here."

  There was something decidedly odd about his expression, but before she could decipher it, he did something very strange.

  "I love you," he said, and disappeared out of sight. She heard him whisper something, then someone else stepped into the doorway. A woman, tall, slender, dark hair still untouched by gray, and with the laughing brown eyes Kelsey had never forgotten, eyes that were now glowing with joy.

  Kelsey stared at the woman, her own eyes widening, then filling with tears.

  "Cecelia?" she whispered brokenly.

  "Kelsey, honey!"

  The older woman crossed the room quickly, and Kelsey was caught in the embrace she'd never thought to feel again. They both babbled somewhat wildly for a few moments, before Kelsey finally managed to ask a coherent question.

  "How?"

  Cecelia laughed, the silvery, lovely laugh that was one of Kelsey's fondest memories from a dark time. "Oh, Kels, I'd been trying to find you ever since I heard your father had been killed, but I couldn't afford to pay someone to look. Then that man of yours not only tracked me down up in Canada, he made sure everything was cleared up down here, and then sent me a plane ticket. You've done well, honey. He's a good man."

  "No," Kelsey whispered, "he's the very best."

  They talked on, trying to make up for all the time lost, even though Cecelia assured her that they would have plenty of time.

  And when the time came and she took her place beneath the spreading oak tree, it was Kelsey who cried at her wedding, when she stood looking into Cruz's loving face, full of wonder at her good fortune.

  He's the very best, she repeated to herself.

  And that night, when for the first time they went to their room as husband and wife, Kelsey made very sure he knew it.

  * * * * *

 

 

 


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