by J. M. Madden
Swallowing the rest of the milk down, he set the glass in the dishwasher. He needed to get to bed, he had a lot of running around to do tomorrow.
Cupping himself in his hand, he wondered if he shouldn’t take care of this issue, but he decided against it. He would ignore it, and hope that when he and Cheyenne got together it would be worth it.
Cheyenne woke at five-thirty, just like she did every other morning, but she didn’t feel rested. As she looked at the bed she could see she hadn’t slept well. The mattress was fine, but she’d been haunted by sexy giants plying her with seductive looks. And cookies, surprisingly seductive cookies. She’d woken once and been cupping herself intimately. That wasn’t normal for her. For the past six… no, seven years she’d turned her libido completely off. That had been what had gotten her into trouble with Wade, and she wasn’t going to let it control her life any longer.
She’d stuck to that vow for a long time, but after a single night in Sheridan’s presence it was all going to hell. The man was sex personified and she had no idea how he’d been single for so long in Honeywell. Yes, people had obviously given him some time after his wife had died, but surely some of the women had approached him by now. There was no way a man could be celibate that long.
Her breasts tingled at the thought of him denying himself and she cursed. She had no business even thinking about him that way. He was helping her out in a difficult situation. That was all.
Cheyenne showered and dressed, and refused to acknowledge how sensitive her breasts felt today. She dressed in school appropriate clothing, even though they were a little laid back in summer school. There were only twenty-three kids attending the summer program this year, and she was responsible for seven of them. One more week and even they would be done, and she could do what she wanted with her summer.
The girls went with her and if they didn’t want to help her in the class they were allowed to go to the library. Savannah always chose the library, but Grace and Carolyn usually didn’t decide until they walked into the front door of the school. That was fine. As long as they were on the premises she was okay with them doing whatever they wanted.
Cheyenne headed out to the kitchen to find something to cook for breakfast. She had bacon sizzling on the stove and was beating eggs when Sheridan walked into the room, fully dressed in his tan uniform. The heavy black gun belt hung around his hips. The motion of her arm stuttered and a little egg splashed onto the counter.
Cheyenne turned away, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Two days ago she was completely fine with her single life. Why was she suddenly reacting this way?
“Smells really good,” Sheridan said, crossing to the coffee pot. Reaching a mug from the cupboard above him, he poured a cup of the black brew, then reached into the refrigerator and poured just as much creamer into the cup.
Cheyenne laughed lightly as she poured the eggs into the skillet. “You have a true sweet tooth, don’t you?”
She glanced up long enough to see him shrug sheepishly. “I guess so.”
Reaching a spatula from the utensil basket on the counter, she started scrambling the eggs. “I hope you don’t mind that I started breakfast.”
He snorted, leaning his hips back against the island. “Is part of that food for me?”
“Of course. If you’d like.”
“Then I don’t mind you cooking.”
She smiled slightly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like I was taking anything over. I think Olivia was a little upset when she came home last night and we were all eating dinner.”
Sheridan grimaced, taking a sip of his coffee. “Possibly. She’s so hard to read sometimes. That table was one of Nora’s favorite pieces of furniture. We brought it with us when we moved here. That may have been what upset her.”
Hm. Yes, that probably would make the girl mad. “Well, maybe we can be sure to invite her sooner.”
Sheridan gave her a single nod. “Yes, we can try.”
He set his coffee cup on the island. “I wanted to talk to you before the girls got up. I talked to Marlene last night and she had a couple of pieces of information.” He related the details. “So, I’m going to go check out leads this morning. I want you to stay inside the entire time you’re at school. Do you understand?”
She nodded, reaching for a dishcloth to wipe her hands on. “I know.”
“Are the girls going with you?”
She gave him a narrow-eyes look. “Where else would they go?”
He shrugged. “Well, Olivia is home, so I wouldn’t worry about them staying here today.”
Cheyenne frowned. “I’m not sure Olivia is really on board with us right now. Maybe in a few days when she’s more used to us being around. That’s kind of a lot to dump on her.”
Sheridan tipped his head. “If that’s what you think.”
“I think my girls would burn her out in the first day,” Cheyenne laughed.
“Honestly, I think Grace might burn her out in the first day.”
They laughed quietly together and it struck Cheyenne as almost joyous, having someone who understood the parts of your life and could still laugh about them.
As soon as the eggs were done Cheyenne dished out a plate for Sheridan, then went to wake the girls. When they heard she had breakfast waiting on them they rushed to get dressed. Grace needed help deciding between which pair of holey blue jeans to wear, but otherwise it went pretty smoothly. When they trooped down the stairs Cheyenne was surprised and happy to see Olivia sitting at the table, scooping out a spoonful of eggs.
“Olivia, you remember my girls Grace, Savannah and Carolyn.”
Olivia gave a little wave, then went back to the eggs. Her girls didn’t seem to mind the unenthusiastic welcome, they just said hello and dug into breakfast. While they did that, she headed back upstairs to finish with her hair and makeup.
Cheyenne looked into the mirror and for the five-millionth time wondered about changing her hair. The deep auburn color was very distinctive, she knew that. Wade had told her many times that it had been what had caught his attention all those years ago, blazing down the arena on the back of her horse, her hair flying. She’d been barrel racing then, and Wade had been on the bulls. Though her mama had told her over and over again that rodeo men were trouble, when Wade asked her out, she’d said yes immediately.
And for the most part, it had been good. Well, when he’d been winning, at least. As soon as he’d been injured, everything had gone downhill.
Fisting her hands in her hair she bunched it on top of her head. That would be really short. She’d had long hair all her life. Cutting it off might be more traumatic than any other part of this situation, she thought with a laugh.
Frustrated, she pulled it back into a French braid and let it hang down her back. She would worry about it later.
Sheridan drove them into town in his big department truck. As they drove past the feed store, she looked for any hint of her ex, but she didn’t see anything. It was only seven-forty-five. The store didn’t even open till eight.
Sheridan parked in the turnaround loop in front of the school and stood guard, basically, as she and the girls trooped inside. Cheyenne paused, hitching her bag over her shoulder.
“Thank you for doing all this, Sheridan. You’re going above and beyond what any man should.”
He blinked at her and frowned, then turned to look out the glass doors. “No, I’m doing what I should have done years ago when I saw you trying to hide the bruises under your glasses at that gas station. If I had stepped up then, this would all be different.”
The wind whooshed out of her as he reminded her of that day. It had been a traumatic day for everyone. Cheyenne could tell that it haunted him, though. There were shadows in his green eyes she’d never seen before. She shook her head and rested a hand on his arm.
“I don’t want you to carry that around. We all make decisions we regret. I regret not taking you up on your offer then, too, but it can’t be changed now. It all ha
ppens for a reason.”
He looked at her, shoving his hands into his pockets as he faced her. For some reason his demeanor struck her as defeated. She was struck with the need to comfort him. Cheyenne reached up and hugged him.
Sheridan didn’t move, as if he knew how hard this was for her to do. After a moment his arms went around her in a light squeeze, then let her go. When she released him, his eyes were wary as they watched her.
If Cheyenne had freaked out, he would have felt even more like crap, so she forced herself to ease back calmly and give him a smile. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or just being that close to him. Sheridan Lane was one hell of a man.
“Can you call me if you find anything out?”
“I will,” he promised. “If I don’t learn anything I’ll be here in front at three.”
She gave him a quick smile. “Okay, thank you.”
Cheyenne turned and headed into the building, very conscious of the man behind her, watching her walk away.
Chapter 9
Thomas Applegate was a truly nice guy. The kind of guy a person didn’t come across very often. Even as he explained to Sheridan that he’d only been able to spare a hundred dollars for the down on his luck ex-con who hadn’t shown up for his job the next day, Thomas worried that the hundred dollars hadn’t been enough.
Sheridan took down all the details Thomas had, and he confirmed with the picture Marlene had printed off that yes, that was indeed the man that he’d hired for a job, Wade Shipton. He also provided Sheridan with the address where the man was supposedly staying.
As soon as Thomas reeled off the numbers, Sheridan knew the address was bogus. Honeywell was small enough that he knew every street and alley, as well as about ninety percent of the residents.
“Yeah, that’s a fake address,” Sheridan told the younger man.
The crestfallen look on Thomas’ face would have been funny but for the fact that Thomas seemed genuinely hurt.
“Really?”
“Yes.” He lifted his brows at Thomas. “You’ve lived here all your life right?”
Thomas shrugged and gave him a grin. “Yes, sir, but I only deliver outside of town.”
Well, he supposed that made sense. Not much call for feed or grain deliveries in town.
Sheridan left frustrated, which he didn’t normally allow himself to be. This one was too personal.
Sheridan headed toward Jeanette Holcomb’s house on the other side of town. Her granddaughter Chrissy lived with her in the apartment above the garage. Sheridan knew her as a polite young woman working her way through school. Chrissy had called their department many times in the past few years for issues at Spurs.
As soon as he pulled into the drive, Jeanette came out onto the porch. She was a spry thing for being seventy plus, her sterling white hair trimmed tight to her head and bright pink exercise shoes on her feet. Sheridan knew he’d probably interrupted her morning dog walk with Chester, her poofy poodle-something-doodle. Chester yapped inside as Jeanette crossed the porch and came down the steps.
“Hello, Sheriff. Thank you for being so prompt in your follow-up.”
“Good morning, Miss Jeanette. You knew I’d be here early, huh?”
She nodded. “Of course. We have a criminal at large. My Chrissy is awake but she’s tired. Go do your interview so she can to sleep.”
He tipped his hat to her. “Yes, ma’am. It was a pleasure seeing you, ma’am.”
She gave him a saucy look before retrieving her dog and heading down the street.
Sheridan knew that the walks were totally a ruse to stay on top of the news of Honeywell. Miss Jeanette would power down four blocks to the town square, circle it, and then head back to her own home in a roundabout way, talking to people all along the way. Rain or shine, she and Chester were out there taking the pulse of the town. Usually twice a day.
Sheridan secretly thought she considered herself an early warning system or something. If he ever implemented a neighborhood watch program he had a feeling the ladies from the Naughty Book Club would be the first in line.
Sheridan tromped up the garage’s exterior staircase, making a little extra noise so that Chrissy would know it was him. She answered his knock immediately, looking tired but alert, and held it open for him to enter. “Come on in, Sheriff.”
“Thanks for talking to me, Chrissy. I know you’re supposed to be sleeping so I won’t take much of your time. Tell me about the guy last night.”
She sighed, crossing her arms. “I’ve heard about Cheyenne’s ex, but I don’t remember seeing him. I think I was living with Dad in Amarillo then. This guy looks like the picture Mawmaw showed me. Big an’ burly, but he walks with a limp. He talked like he’d been gone a long time, said his family lives outside of town. I know some of those Shiptons. They’re not bad people.”
“No,” Sheridan agreed. “They’re not bad. Just a little misguided sometimes.”
Chrissy nodded, a frown on her young face. Dirty blond hair was mussed around her face, makeup smudged beneath her eyes, and Sheridan felt bad about keeping her up. “Any chance you saw what he was driving or anything?”
She shook her head. “No, sir. I sure didn’t.”
That would have been too much to hope for.
“Okay, thank you Chrissy.” He handed her a business card. “If by chance you see him again or he comes into Spurs, can you call me?”
“Absolutely.”
She curled the card into her hand and walked him to the door.
“Thanks, Chrissy.”
“You’re welcome, Sheriff.”
Once in his truck, Sheridan pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Marlene at the office. “Any word on anything?”
“The warden of the prison called, offering his deepest regrets in not informing you that Wade was getting out. He says it was a clerical error and it awaiting your call back.”
“Clerical error, my ass. He’s got inept people working for him and it’s going to get someone killed.”
“Yes, sir. He did give me the name of the parole officer in charge of his case. A man by the name of Eric Groves, out of Amarillo. I’ll text you his contact information. As of nine a.m., he has until the end of business today to report in before he’s in violation of his parole.”
One more day. Just a few more hours. Should he continue to try to track Shipton down? Or hope he missed checking in so that Sheridan would have a real reason to lock him up? As of right now he hadn’t done anything Sheridan could prove.
“Okay, thanks Marlene. If you hear anything else, let me know. Who’s out east right now?”
“Um,” she paused and he could hear clacking on her keyboard. “Looks like Hampton is out there now.”
“Have him swing by the Shipton place in a routine patrol. No contact, just see what vehicles are in the drive.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks, Marlene.”
“No problem, sheriff.”
Pulling away from the curb, Sheridan debated on what to do. Wade Shipton was a bad apple, and it felt wrong to not do anything to get rid of him or track him down. Cheyenne’s attack that summer night had been one of the worst he’d ever seen.
After Nora had died, he’d gone through life in a bit of a fog. He was conscious and everything, took care of himself and his daughter, but his emotions were burned out, as if he’d been overloaded. It wasn’t until he’d responded to the call that a woman had been raped and beaten that the fogginess had begun to dissipate.
He’d been the first to arrive at the address given to him by dispatch. They didn’t know who the woman was or who had beaten her. An anonymous tip had been called in, and they’d never figured out the caller’s identity. The address was listed to Wade and Cheyenne Shipton.
Slamming his truck to a stop in front of the house, he’d grabbed his heavy-duty flashlight from the charger at the side of the center console. The yard of the house had been overgrown, but even in the dark night it had b
een easy to see the woman’s body. Her skin glowed in the light of the half moon, so pale except where she was covered with blood. She was stick thin, the hollows of her body deep.
Sheridan remembered sweeping the area with his light, then going down hard on his knees beside her, praying that there was still life in her body. He’d touched his fingers to her neck, feeling the butterfly flutter of a pulse there, then turned her chin skyward.
That was when he’d realized that it was Cheyenne, Brock’s sister, the woman he’d seen at the gas station less than a week previous with horrible marks on her face. It was the woman that had kept him up at night, eaten with guilt that he hadn’t gone and beaten the shit out of her husband.
Now he was going to be up even more nights, because this was his fault.
“You’re gonna be okay, Cheyenne, I promise. We’re going to take care of you.”
Bolting to his truck, he retrieved his rain jacket, the only thing at hand to cover her with. In the distance he could hear the squad on their way.
She didn’t rouse when he covered her, but when the ambulance drew close she opened her eyes at the noise. Groaning, her head rocked back and forth. She seemed to be trying to say something, but she lifted a hand like her mouth hurt. Sheridan could see that her jaw seemed crooked.
“Don’t try to talk. We’re going to take care of you.”
She lifted a hand and pointed at the house. “Kids,” she hissed.
Shit.
“I’ll go inside and check on them. And I’ll call your family to come get them. Okay?”
Her eyes fluttered shut in agreement and he brushed her hair from her temple, unable to help himself. Cheyenne was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but right this moment she struck him as a broken bird.