by T. L. Haddix
“I know they were just things, Chloe, but they were my things. Our things. What are we going to do?” A tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto the cat’s soft fur. Stacy wiped it away, but more fell after it. Chloe, not particularly liking the sensation, grumbled and stood, stretching. She butted her head against Stacy’s hip, then hopped off the bed and made for the closed door.
Stacy followed her. She opened the door to let Chloe out, surprising Gordon, who was getting ready to knock. Thankfully, he was fully dressed. He froze, his hand raised, as his eyes traced her bare shoulders and upper chest.
“Um. I was just going to check on you, see if you need anything,” he told the knot of the towel, where it was gathered between her breasts. He realized his hand was still up and jerked it down. Stacy could see the battle he was having, trying to focus on her face instead of her chest. She was flattered, but couldn’t muster the strength to tease him.
“I’m fine. I was just letting Chloe out.”
He wet his lips, his eyes now going everywhere except to her. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“Okay. I’ll be down soon.” With a gentle smile, she shut the door and rested her forehead against it. On the other side, he muttered something that sounded a lot like a prayer for strength, and his footsteps moved away, down the hall. Even flustering Gordon didn’t lift the black cloud of pain from around her.
Moving slowly, feeling the loss as a physical ache, she went to the dresser and pulled out clean clothes. She didn’t have a lot of options, and she chose comfort over vanity. “Glad I brought these,” she murmured as she slipped on a pair of yoga pants and a loose T-shirt. Given what she knew about the damage fires did to textiles, she figured she was going to have to go shopping soon. Even if her clothing hadn’t burned, getting the smell out would be nearly impossible.
The thought was too much, and Stacy crumpled to the floor. Holding on to the side of the bed, she hugged the mattress and let the tears come.
Stacy’s phone was in the kitchen, out of Murphy’s reach, and it was ringing off the hook. When Gordon glanced at it to see that Maria was calling so insistently, he answered.
“How is she?” Maria asked.
“Not good. I don’t think it’s hit her yet.”
“Do you need me to come over?”
He hesitated. “No. I think she needs a little space. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“Okay. You know it was more than just a house that burned today, right? She built a home, piece by piece, and she’s worked like a demon to get it to the point she had it. It’s her refuge and the only real home she’s had. I can’t tell you what it meant to her. I’m worried that this will destroy her, Gordon. Please take care of her for me.”
“I will,” he promised. “And as soon as we can, I’ll get her to you, so you can see for yourself that she’s okay. I just don’t think she’s up to it tonight, though.”
“Everyone’s asking about bringing food over,” Maria told him. “What do you want me to tell them?”
That was difficult to answer. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. We don’t know that our suspect won’t bring something and that it won’t be spiked. Can you let everyone know that she’s just not up to it right now, and that as soon as she is, we’ll stop by the department or something?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Maria. I’ll let her know you called.”
When Murphy and Chloe, both meowing loudly, ran into the kitchen where he was preparing dinner, Gordon figured something was wrong. Remembering the incident with the chicken breast, he quickly stashed the food in the fridge and hurried upstairs, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he went.
“What is it, guys?”
The cats raced ahead of him. Murphy looked back to make sure he was following. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Stacy’s sobs. Chloe was frantic, desperately clawing at the door, and Gordon gave a perfunctory knock before opening it. Stacy was curled up on the floor. He sat beside her and tugged her into his arms, ignoring her resistance.
“Just pretend I’m a stuffed bear, okay? Come on, sweetheart, let me in.” After a few seconds, Stacy gave in and burrowed her head against his chest. Gordon wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair as he made soothing noises. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
The tears didn’t slow down for a long time. When they finally faded into hiccups, Gordon reached grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand and held them out to her. She wiped her face and nose. With a shuddering breath, she rested her head against his shoulder.
“Feel better?” he asked, and she nodded. “Chloe’s worried about you. Murphy’s even keeping vigil.” He gestured to the cat, who was sitting a few feet away, watching them with an unblinking gaze.
With a thick voice, she called Chloe. The cat eased up and edged close, and when she was near enough to pick up, Stacy settled her into her lap. She stroked Chloe’s fur much the same way Gordon was still stroking her hair.
“You must think I’m some kind of watering pot.”
Gordon rubbed the tense muscles of her neck. “No. I think you’ve had to endure more than you should have these past few weeks, starting with the wreck. If I were in your shoes, I’d be curled up, sucking my thumb somewhere.”
She snorted. “I doubt that.”
He smiled against her temple. “Okay, maybe I’d be sucking down some premium aged bourbon. But I’d be a mess. Any normal person would be. You have to forgive yourself for being human.” He rearranged the way they were sitting so that she was between his legs and his back was to the bed. Stacy moved with him, and Chloe slipped to the floor.
“My house is gone, Gordon. The whole thing will have to come down. You know that as much as I do. Where in the world am I going to live?”
“You have options, even though it doesn’t feel like it right now. And speaking of those options, Richard and Jackie Hudson called while you were in the shower. They asked me to let you know that they have a guest house ready for occupancy, if you want it. That’s where Annie went after her shop burned.”
“I won’t impose on them like that,” Stacy protested.
“They knew you’d say that. They’ll charge you rent. And Chloe’s welcome. I asked. Apparently, they went through the same argument with Annie. Chase even drew up a rental agreement for them, at her insistence.”
“Oh.” She snuggled into him more closely.
“You don’t have to decide right now. It’s an open offer.” Gordon ran his fingers through her hair in a slow motion that had her turning her face into his palm with her eyes closed. Her lashes sparkled with tears, and as he looked down at her face, his heart broke.
After a little while, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I almost fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“Would you stop apologizing?” Gordon kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ve started supper, but it’s going to be a couple of hours before its ready.”
“You don’t need help?”
“Nah. I have it. It’s just beef stew. Once it’s in the pot, I was thinking about heading down to the basement, getting a few miles in on the treadmill. Why don’t you curl up with these furballs and try to get some sleep?”
She stood, and Gordon followed suit. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
“Absolutely. Do you want me to hold you?”
“Please?” She turned back the covers on the bed and climbed in, moving over so that he had room behind her. Once she was comfortable, Gordon slid in and wrapped his arms around her. Some of the tension left her body, and Gordon laced their fingers together at her waist. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and she was asleep. The cats joined them, both snuggling up against Stacy’s front.
Carefully disentangling their hands, Gordon moved her hair off her face and neck. He was astonished by how quickly she’d come to mean everything to him. After a few more minutes, when he was sure she was sound a
sleep, he eased out of the bed. She murmured a little when he tucked the covers around her, but she didn’t wake up. He left the bedroom quietly, pulling the door nearly shut behind him.
Downstairs, he finished the food prep and got the stew into the oven. His phone rang as he was cleaning up.
“Sandra, hey!” he greeted his mother-in-law. “How are you?”
“Wondering if you’ve dropped off the face of the earth or what,” she responded pertly. “Where’ve you been keeping yourself?”
“Oh, here and there.” He leaned against the counter while he filled her in on the babysitting and the situation with Stacy. “I’m going to bring her down there tomorrow or the next day. I’ve got to get her out of here for a few days, anyhow.”
Sandra was quiet. Just when Gordon thought the call had dropped, she spoke. “You really care about this girl, don’t you? Is she the one you told me about on the cruise?”
“She is. And yeah, I do. I’d like you to meet her. I think you’d like her.” He knew his moving on wasn’t easy for Sandra. They’d discussed it during the cruise, though, and she’d assured him then that she was fine with the thought. Her words reaffirmed that.
“I’d love to meet her. You let me know when, and I’ll cook for you. Does she like food, or is she a picky eater?”
Gordon chuckled. “Sandra, there’s no way I can answer that without getting in trouble with someone. But she loves home-cooked food. Just don’t go overboard. She’d feel like she put you out.”
“Pfft. I love to cook for people who enjoy eating. Does she know yet, about Mallory, and the house, your inheritance?”
“No. I haven’t been brave enough to broach the subject with her. I’m terrified she’ll run for the hills when she finds out.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is. I’m liking her even more and more. You said she’s a detective?”
“She is, and a good one.”
“I’m happy for you. I hope you know that. I’ve not heard you sound like this about someone since Mallory was here.”
He let out a deep breath. “I’ve not felt this way about anyone since Mallory was here. It means a lot to me that you’re okay with this.”
“Sweetie, I’m more than okay with this, as long as you’re happy. You deserve to have the family, the white picket fence, the whole nine yards. It goes without saying that I wish you’d been able to have that with my daughter, but it just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t live in the past, Galen. She wouldn’t want you to, and neither do I.” Sandra was one of the very few people who could call him by his given name and get away with it.
“I know. And I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m cautiously optimistic. Listen, I don’t mean to run, but I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll touch base with you once I get into town, okay?”
“Safe travels, my boy. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“You, too.” Switching over, Gordon answered the other call. “Hey, trouble.”
“Trouble? Oh, I like that,” Beth remarked. “How’s Stacy?”
“Resting. Devastated. Lost.”
“I can only imagine. I won’t keep you, but I wanted to at least call, let the two of you know that I’m thinking of you. If you need anything, just let us know.”
“I will, and I’ll let Stacy know you called. She’s asleep right now.”
“Good. She has to be exhausted. Going through what she is, it takes a physical toll. You know that, though. Have you talked to Chase?”
“Not yet. I figured I’d call him in a little while. I’m getting ready to hit the treadmill, get rid of some of the stress. Why?”
“He and Annie are on their way home. She had a feeling that they needed to head back early, so they are.”
Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose. “They didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, they kind of did. Annie had one of ‘those’ feelings. She was so worried, they weren’t enjoying themselves.”
“Oh. Still, I feel guilty.”
Ever since the fire that had destroyed her flower shop, Annie had been having mini panic attacks. She’d recently started counseling, which was helping, but sometimes, the only thing that would alleviate the attacks was to give in to the impulse that was causing them.
“Well, don’t feel guilty. Chase sounded relieved to be heading home, as well. I guess it’s done nothing but rain since they’ve been there. I’ll let you go. Call if you need us.”
“Will do. Thanks, Beth.”
He checked the oven, then dashed upstairs to check on Stacy. She was sound asleep, both cats snuggled in with her. He grabbed his running shoes, then went to the basement and fired up the treadmill. He set a punishing pace, letting his mind blank as he ran. Between the stress and resisting the increasing desire he felt for Stacy, he needed the distraction.
CHAPTER 20
VOICES FROM DOWNSTAIRS WOKE STACY. She lay there for a few minutes, getting her bearings, then reluctantly got up. As tempting as it was to stay in bed, covers pulled up to shut out the world, she knew she couldn’t avoid life forever.
After a brief stop in the bathroom, she headed to the kitchen. Gordon was putting the finishing touches on supper. Seated across the island from him was Kathryn Owen. When she saw Stacy standing in the door, Kathryn got up and hurried over to her, enveloping her in a tight, brief hug.
“Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m working on it.” She always felt gawky and awkward around Kathryn. The tall, curvaceous redhead was elegance personified. Stacy followed her to the opposite side of the bar.
“I’ll head out. I know you’re probably not up for company right now.”
“Kat brought cheddar biscuits and a chocolate cake,” Gordon said.
“You should stay,” Stacy said as she eased onto a barstool. “I’d enjoy the company. I know you and Gordon haven’t had much time together lately. I’ve been monopolizing him.”
Kathryn laughed. “He’s been waiting a long time for you to monopolize him. You sure you wouldn’t mind if I stay?”
“I promise.”
Gordon shook his finger at Kathryn. “Why is it that you say ‘monopolize,’ and it sounds dirty?”
Kathryn resumed her seat. “Because your mind is in the gutter, of course. You’re projecting.” She winked at Stacy when he blustered a protest.
When he turned around and growled something unintelligible, Stacy bit her lips to keep from laughing.
“So I was asking Mr. Snarly here what happened to your house. Do they know yet?”
“Not really. They think it might have been a gas leak, but they won’t know until the state arson investigator comes down tomorrow.” When Gordon sent her an approving glance, she knew she’d answered correctly. “I need to call my insurance agent. I didn’t even think about that earlier.”
Gordon got her phone out of a drawer and handed it to her. “I think she called. It’s been ringing off the hook.”
Stacy grimaced. “I’m not surprised.” She thumbed through the call log. Sure enough, Molly Taylor’s name was there. “Do you all mind if I return some of these?”
“Not at all. Supper’s about fifteen minutes away from being done,” Gordon said. “I did answer one call earlier—Maria. She was worried.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She went out to the front porch and sat on the wide concrete-and-stone rail. A barge train was pushing upriver, and in the falling dusk, the soft light was diffused as it glanced off the water. Biting the bullet, Stacy started through the log, calling Molly first. After the fifteen minutes was up, she’d barely started with the callbacks.
As she stood to go back in, the phone rang. “Hey, boss.”
“Hey. I just talked to Russell. He’ll be at your house around eleven, if that works for you,” Wyatt told her. “And the arson guy will be there around the same time, so two birds and all that.”
“Eleven sounds fine. I don’t know what to do with myself, Wyatt. Everyone’s been s
o nice. I wasn’t expecting that. I’ll bet I have twenty voicemails I didn’t get through, and I’ve been on the phone for fifteen minutes.”
“Of course they’ve been nice. You don’t realize how well-liked you are in this community, but the rest of us aren’t surprised at all. As to what to do, you take things one minute at a time until you can handle it.”
“I know. I just never imagined having to start over at this stage of my life. Not like this.”
“Just remember you aren’t alone.”
His gruff tone made Stacy smile. At six-foot-five and two hundred twenty pounds of muscle, the sheriff was an imposing figure. He was also one of the most caring people Stacy had ever known. To say that she thought of Wyatt as a father was not an exaggeration.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss. Give Maria a hug for me.”
“Will do.”
Back inside, she popped her head around the kitchen doorframe. “Hey, I need to wash up, and I’ll be right back.”
“Just in time,” Gordon said. “What do you want to drink?”
“Surprise me.”
When she came back in and sat down at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea was waiting.
“Earl Grey, hot. Three sugars and a splash of cream.”
“Thanks.” Stacy was impressed, then she realized he’d probably just asked Kathryn what she usually ordered at The Brown Bag.
She must have read Stacy’s expression, because she shook her head. “He did it on his own. I didn’t help him.”
Gordon took a seat next to Stacy and started dipping out stew for Kathryn. “I told you. I’ve watched you.”
Stacy was flustered, but she tried to act normal. “You did say that. But I didn’t expect you to know how I take my tea.”
“So does that mean you don’t know how I take my coffee?”
Instead of answering his question, Stacy bit into one of the biscuits, changing the subject. “These are so good.”
“Thanks,” Kathryn said. “We’re thinking about adding them at the cafe when we update our soup menu this fall.”