The Lawman Who Loved Her

by Mallory Kane

  Ah, hell. There was a good reason he hadn’t thought about their honeymoon. It was because that kind of memory ate into his resolve to get over his ex-wife.

  He untied the basket from the mooring and started up the hill to the house, just as rain began to fall.

  He flexed his shoulders and rolled his neck. He was too tense. He needed to get away from here as soon as possible. He needed action.

  More than that he needed distance from Dana. It wasn’t working the way he’d thought it would. He’d thought he could take things as they came. He’d thought he was over her. Boy, was he wrong.

  Tonight, he’d call Captain Hamilton. Then he could do what he’d wanted to do ever since he’d heard that Fontenot was out of prison. He could put the man back in.

  He nodded, satisfied with his decision. He was going crazy up here with nothing to do. Going crazy and pulling stupid stunts, like trying to seduce his ex-wife.

  All he had to do was get through tonight.

  DANA WAS LAYING a fire in the fireplace when Cody came in with the crawfish. She was crouched down, nursing a tiny flame, and Cody admired the view of her backside in tight white shorts.

  She glanced up. “There’s a storm coming,” she said, then turned back to the fire.

  “Yeah. It’s already starting to rain. I got a mess of crawfish and a couple of crabs.”

  Dana stood, dusting her hands against each other. She had taken a shower. Her hair was still damp and her face was bare of makeup and shiny, with two pink spots in her cheeks. She looked like she had when they first got married, young and innocent and shy.

  “Great,” she said. “I hope there’s some crawfish seasoning here. I didn’t bring any.”

  Cody dumped the basketful of wriggling animals into the sink and ran water over them. “Remember on our honeymoon, when we had to beg some from that old codger who used to live down the hill?”

  He berated himself for bringing up the very thing he was trying to forget, but Dana laughed quietly, and Cody was glad he’d said it.

  “I remember what he said,” she responded, standing next to him at the sink, preparing the crawfish for purging. “He said, ‘It don’t look to me like you two need any more spice between you.”’

  She stopped abruptly and turned away. “I wonder where the big pot is?” she said quickly.

  Cody understood how she felt. The air between them was electric, like the summer sky outside as the storm gathered. How could he stand to stay here even one more night, so close to her?

  She found the pot and he piled the cleaned and purged crawfish into it, and filled it with water while she dug into the cabinets.

  With a cry of triumph she held up an ancient can of seasoning. “Voilà!”

  She handed him the can, careful not to touch his fingers.

  After he got the fire lit under the pot, he turned to her. “I’m going to call the captain and get somebody up here to watch you. Then tomorrow, I’m heading back to New Orleans.”

  Dana stared at him, her face carefully blank. “You’re heading back to New Orleans. Well, that’s just great.”

  “What’s wrong with that? I figured you’d be glad to see the last of me.”

  A shadow crossed her face as she propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, trust me, I will be.”

  “Well, then, what’s the problem?”

  “There—is—no—problem,” she ground out between clenched teeth, then turned on her heel and left the kitchen.

  Cody stared after her. What was that all about? He shrugged. He was sure she was just as anxious as he was to put distance between them. But it seemed that nothing he did was right. That was a familiar feeling.

  Getting away from here would be the best thing for him. If he thought he could risk it, he’d get her away, too. Take her to another city, to a safe house. Somewhere out of Fontenot’s reach. There were too many memories here, where some of their best times had been.

  He stirred the crawfish with a long-handled spoon.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up their honeymoon. They had been so young, so in love, so innocent of the problems associated with real life. He should never have mentioned it. He poured more seasoning into the pot.

  DANA SAT IN FRONT of the fire, listening to the rain on the tin roof of the house, contrasting with the warm, crackling sound of wood burning. She shivered. It didn’t take long for a spring rainstorm to cool things off.

  She heard Cody stirring the crawfish, and shivered again, but this time it wasn’t the temperature that affected her.

  He was going back to New Orleans. He just couldn’t stand not being right in the middle of the action. And obviously, he didn’t want to stay here with her. It was probably for the best.

  Even as the thought entered her head, an unreasoning anger bubbled up inside her. He was going to leave her here and go off to chase the bad guy. Just like always. She picked up the poker and prodded the logs, sending sparks flying up the chimney.

  “Watch it, you’ll have us roasting if you poke that fire up any more.”

  She tossed the poker down on the hearth and stepped back. “Fine,” she snapped. “You do it, then. You’re so much better at everything.”

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” He frowned at her as he retrieved the poker and stood it back in its stand.

  “Oh, nothing, Cody,” she said shortly. “Nothing at all, except that you haven’t changed a bit. I guess you’ll never change, will you?”

  She sat down on the end of the sagging couch and pulled her legs up under her and crossed her arms. “Here we are, safe and sound, and you want to go running back to New Orleans.”

  Cody leaned his arms on the mantel and stared down into the fire. His shoulders were a dark reddish gold where the sun had burned him. His ribs were clearly outlined under his skin, and she could count the bumps on his spinal cord if she wanted to.

  Of course, she already knew just how many and where they were, and how each one of them felt under her fingers. Disgusted with her thoughts, she dragged her gaze away from his bare back and stared into the fire.

  “Dana, do you have any idea just how evil the man is?” He closed his hands into fists against the mantel. “Let me tell you something. I feel like I know exactly what Fontenot is thinking. I understood perfectly the message he was sending when he left your earring on my car seat. It was as clear as a typed note. You want to know what it said?”

  She wanted to shake her head no, but all she could do was stare at the nape of his neck, where tense muscles bunched.

  “It said I can get to your wife. I know where she lives. I know when she’s at home and when she’s gone.” He turned and looked at her, his eyes hooded and dark. “Do you have any idea what it did to me when I saw your earring?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak around the lump of fear in her throat.

  “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life. I was looking at a symbol of what Fontenot could do to you. He took the earring. He could have taken you.” His voice broke.

  “You’re scaring me, Cody,” she whispered, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself.

  He cleared his throat. “Good. You ought to be scared. I am. Now, what do you think I should do? Sit here and wait for him?” He pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “What do you want me to do, Dana?”

  Dana shook her head. She knew she could never answer that question. Ever.

  What she wanted him to do was hold her, comfort her, make love to her forever. And never, ever get hurt again. She wanted him to promise her that nothing bad would ever happen to either of them. She wanted him to keep her safe forever, to love her like she’d always dreamed he would.

  But that was impossible. She could never tell him that, because if she did, she’d be giving up the last dregs of control she had over her heart. Then he’d know how much she needed him. And she could never allow him to know that, because, what if he didn’t care?

  He looked at her strangely, and she was terrified
that her thoughts were clearly mapped on her face. She ducked her head and stood up.

  Cody caught her arm and used his other hand to tilt her face up, so she had to look at him.

  “Chère, are you all right?”

  She pulled out of his grasp. “Of course,” she retorted. “I’m just going to check on the crawfish. They’re probably done by now.” She turned her back on him and went into the kitchen, where the spicy smell of boiled crawfish permeated the air. It made her mouth water and jolted her with memories. She stared at the big pot helplessly.

  How was she going to sit here with Cody and eat crawfish? It would be just like their honeymoon. How would they get through this evening that was a twin of the night they’d gotten drunk on champagne and crawfish and love while a summer storm raged outside?

  Lost in her thoughts, Dana turned around when Cody walked into the kitchen, and his gaze caught hers. Her thoughts and memories were clearly mirrored in his blue eyes. For a long moment she couldn’t move.

  Then he blinked and broke the spell. He stepped toward her, and she stepped back. “Pour them into the sink and we can help ourselves,” she said crisply.

  They sat at the table and ate crawfish like they had six years ago on the day they got married. But this time Dana was stiff and nervous, and not hungry at all, and Cody was quiet and brooding.

  After a few strained minutes, Cody cursed quietly and got up and left the room. Dana sat there for a while, picking at a mud bug, but she finally gave up and cleaned up the kitchen and put the rest of the crawfish in the refrigerator.

  When she went back into the living room, the fire was blazing but Cody was nowhere around.

  Chapter Ten

  Dana pushed her hair back tiredly. She really couldn’t blame Cody for escaping the tension in the lake house. The whole day had been a huge strain on both of them. It was amazing how many things they found to argue about for two people who hadn’t seen each other in four years. It was incredible how well their bodies remembered each other. Her face burned as she thought about how easily they had come together, how naturally they had kissed, for two people who had been divorced for longer than they’d been married.

  Warning herself against such thoughts, Dana went into the bedroom and got undressed. As she picked up her satin nightgown, she glanced longingly at the few clothes Cody had brought. His Police Academy T-shirt was tossed precariously on top of his duffel bag. With a quick glance over her shoulder at the bedroom door, Dana retrieved the T-shirt and slipped it on over her bare body.

  She’d slept in it all this time. It was just more comfortable than her gown, she rationalized. It was comfortable and warm and familiar. Like Cody, her brain whispered. No, she argued with herself. It was just a T-shirt.

  She got into bed and tried to sleep, but she was too keyed up. Every time she heard a sound, she tensed, wondering if it was Cody. After about fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, she got up and went into the living room.

  She pulled an old quilt off the back of the couch and wrapped up in it, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. The last time they’d been here they’d made love here, on the very quilt she was wrapped in.

  Dana tried halfheartedly to push the memories back behind the wall, but the storm, the fire and the quilt were in a conspiracy to make her remember, and she was too tired to fight. So she finally gave in and let her thoughts go where they would.

  They had argued, like they always did, but they’d also made love, time and time again, all through that weekend. On the couch, on the floor in front of the fire, on the bed. And one of those times, they’d made a baby. Dana hugged the quilt around her and let the memories wash over her.

  They had come to the lake house for a quiet weekend, to try and recapture the wonder of their first year together. They’d been happy until the first time Cody was shot. That one had been so minor it was ludicrous now, in the wake of his later, more serious wounds. But to Dana, who had never seen violence, it was a horrible nightmare.

  A bullet had grazed his forearm, leaving a long bloody furrow, but no real damage. In fact, it hardly even left a scar. But Dana had panicked. It had never occurred to her that Cody could actually be shot.

  Suddenly, she realized that she was the one who had always thought his job was like a television show where the good guys always win and the bad guys always go to jail, and everybody gets up at the end and goes home.

  Then he’d come home with his arm bandaged and his shirt black with blood, and she had realized for the first time how much danger was inherent in his job, and how fragile his all-too-human body was.

  He was just flesh and bone, breakable, mortal, and the realization scared her half to death.

  So she had begun to withdraw, and she’d invested her heart in safe, mundane things. She’d started to hate her job with the public defender’s office. It was much too volatile, too dangerous. She began looking for a corporate job. She lost interest in their quaint French Quarter apartment and looked at ads for apartments in the safe, quiet suburbs. And she’d tried to get him to take a desk job, or transfer to a less dangerous part of town.

  They had begun to snipe at each other, and suddenly the incredible passion, the joy and the tender understanding, the balance between his intensity and her calm control, wasn’t enough.

  So they had come to the lake house for a weekend, to try to remember why they’d married in the first place, and she’d gotten pregnant.

  They had been so excited about having a baby. Cody was more attentive, sweeter, gentler, than he’d been in a long time. He had even mentioned a job opening in Metairie, chief of detectives.

  But then, he’d gotten involved in Fontenot’s case. Fontenot had shot him, and Dana miscarried, and she’d had to face the fact that things hadn’t really changed. They’d never change. Cody was still Cody, still diving into the heart of danger.

  As long as she was married to him, she would always be afraid.

  Oh, but it had been so close to wonderful. Dana blinked and realized she was crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really cried. Maybe never. She never allowed herself to.

  To her, the most important thing was to stay in control. She was afraid if she ever let go and really, truly cried, she might never stop.

  Now she didn’t even know why she was crying. She had no more excuse than a little silly nostalgia, but she couldn’t seem to stop the hot, unfamiliar tears.

  Then suddenly, it was easier. The wall around her heart had been breached. It felt good to admit, even if it was only to herself, that she couldn’t control everything all the time. So like a child, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  After a while, she became aware that Cody was sitting beside her. She smelled the rain and wind he’d brought in with him. She hadn’t heard him come in, and he hadn’t disturbed her. He just sat there quietly, not touching her.

  Finally, her tears stopped. She sniffed and wiped her cheeks on the quilt.

  “Feel better?” Cody settled back against the couch and put his arm around her.

  Dana allowed herself to sink into his side, to appreciate his strong arm draped over her shoulders. She nodded against his chest. “I don’t know what got into me,” she whispered.

  “It wasn’t what got into you, it’s what you finally let out. You carry so much around inside you. It’s good to let go. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

  “I never do.”

  His arm tightened, pulling her closer. “Well, maybe you should. There’s nothing wrong with letting go. Let someone help you. Why do you have to hold yourself so rigid all the time? Why can’t you just let life flow around you?”

  She stiffened at the very thought. “I can’t even imagine that,” she whispered. “Life is so unpredictable, so full of uncertainty. How can you just let it flow?”

  He laughed softly, his chest rippling against her cheek. “It’s easy, chère. You just float, like on the river, just float and let it happen. It’s a good thing.
Trust me.”

  She shook her head. “But, Cody, if you did that, then you’d just let Fontenot go, right?”

  “Nope. Totally different thing. That’s my job. What I’m talking about is life.”

  “But your life is your job.”

  “No. Not to me. You’re the one who never could separate the two.”

  “You can’t separate them. How can your job be separate from your life?”

  “My job is what I do, not who I am.”

  She looked up at him. “How can you say that? Being a cop is who you are.”

  He pulled her back to him and pressed his face into her hair. His warm breath made her scalp tingle. “That’s not so. Who I am…who I was, was your husband. Who I am now is a lonely guy who used to be married.”

  He chuckled. “Do you realize this is probably the most we’ve ever talked? I mean really talked.”

  Dana turned her head so her nose was pressed into Cody’s chest. He was damp from the rain, and smelled clean and sweet. “How can you say that?” she protested weakly, feeling guilty, because she knew he was right.

  “There’s always been a part of you I couldn’t reach.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Oh, yes it is. You’ve never opened up to me completely.”

  She tried to straighten up, but he tightened his hold on her just slightly.

  “Chère, it’s okay. It’s just you and me here. Just let it flow, like you used to do when we made love. You understood that, didn’t you? When we couldn’t do anything else, we could make love. That was one place you trusted me. Trust me now. I’ve just checked around outside again. There’s nobody around for miles. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Nobody’s going to make you do anything. It’s just you and me. Trust me.”

  Dana’s heart pounded in her throat. Could she say what she’d never said to anybody? Could she explain it to him? This was Cody. This was the one person in her whole life that she’d wanted the most to trust, and she’d held that part of herself back, even from him.

  She swallowed. “What do you think, Cody? That I’ve got some big secret that’s eating me up inside?”