Her partner turned her head. “His headlights are blinking. Maybe he just wants to tell us we’re leaking gasoline or something.”
Heather glanced at the Welcome Home counselor. Tiffany wasn’t naive. Just clueless about Monday night’s incident, so she had no reason to be suspicious. “Maybe so,” said Heather, “but he’s been following us for a while, and he could have let us know at our last stop. There was plenty of room to pull over on that corner near Travis Park.”
“Well…” Tiffany mused, “do you think he’s hungry? Or maybe he’s looking for action, which means he’s got great taste!” Immediately, she made an exasperated sound. “But only an idiot tries to pick up women by scaring them to death on a highway.”
“Tiff—I have no idea, but I’m going to try to lose him.”
They’d just criss-crossed their way through neighborhood streets back to the service road. Now, instead of staying in the right lane near the stores, Heather worked her way left and entered the freeway at the last minute. There was a steady flow of traffic, and she wove in and out, matching her speed to the rest of the vehicles.
“Let’s hope we’re alone when we get off,” said Tiffany.
Heather focused her attention on her driving. She stayed on for two exits and made a U-turn at the end of the next exit ramp, reversing directions. She turned into neighborhood streets, intent on keeping to her scheduled route, but caught herself checking her mirror often.
The next stops were uneventful except for the scarcity of teens. Without the white van as a beacon, the kids couldn’t recognize her. By the end of the night, she and Tiffany had chatted with only seven youngsters. Heather hoped they’d spread the word about the change in vehicles until she got another van. “I’ve got too many sandwiches left over, guys,” she’d told the last two boys.
By ten o’clock, she’d put her suspicions about being followed to rest, admitting that she’d allowed paranoia to take over on this quiet evening. All because of McCoy. Her mouth tightened. He’d done his duty, and she’d heard him out. But she didn’t want to live her life always looking over her shoulder.
She headed home after dropping Tiffany off at her car, feeling much more relaxed. Until she got partway down her own block and saw headlights blinking in her rearview mirror. She shivered and tightened her hands on the wheel. Suddenly, she saw red, white and blue lights rotate on the roof of the car. Damn that McCoy! She’d kill him for scaring her to death. But when she pulled into her driveway and looked back, it was a female officer exiting the vehicle.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?” said the cop.
“Sure. I’m fine. Did McCoy quit?”
The woman laughed. “McCoy? Never. We’re merely providing extra patrol for a while, Ms. Marshall.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “How did you know my name, Officer…?” She peered at the woman’s badge.
“Hannity. Eve Hannity. I responded to your call Monday night. Glad to meet you.”
And then Heather knew how it felt to be examined under a microscope. The cop seemed to memorize every cell of her body.
“Okay, Ms. Marshall. I’ll wait until you’re inside.”
“Thanks, but…did you just happen to be here on my street right now? Or,” she said with suspicion in her voice, “did McCoy put you up to it?”
The officer met her gaze. “I’m simply doing my job, trying to keep our citizens safe. Just like Officer McCoy. Good night.”
Heather nodded, knowing she’d been dismissed. Eve Hannity might be an attractive female, but she was also a cop, trained to use authority. To maintain the almighty control. To Heather and every woman who lived at Welcome Home, control was a disease.
Heather entered the house she shared with her sister. A real home—where she was safe. Everyone should have a home like this. Especially kids.
Please be advised that the following projects have been funded for three years beginning January 1st in Houston, Texas:
YOUTHCRAFT
NEW HORIZONS
GIRLFRIENDS—A SHELTER FOR TEENAGE GIRLS
HEATHER STARED at the screen and gulped. “Do you see what I see?” she managed to whisper to Kathy. Her heart thumped so hard that her chest hurt. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans.
“Yes, I see it,” said Kathy, a huge grin spread across her face. “You did it, Heather!”
Heather’s throat felt tight. She could scarcely believe she’d been given this chance. She studied the announcement again and blinked hard—very hard—but her tears fell anyway.
Kathy’s arms felt warm and comforting around her. “Shh, Heather. It’s time to celebrate. My goodness, that’s twice this week. I’m not used to seeing you cry.”
Heather held on to her sister. “Kath…I love working at Welcome Home, but a place for kids…God, I wish we’d had a place to go when we were growing up.”
Kathy didn’t reply for a long time. “Did you hate me for leaving you there, Heather?” she said finally. “Was I too selfish?”
Denial sprang to Heather’s lips, but then she paused. Her sister wanted a considered response. “I would have taken that scholarship, too—anything to get out of there. So I didn’t hate you, Kathy,” she said slowly. “I hated them.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I never hated you. I just wanted out. And here we are.” Calm filled her as it did every time she remembered how far she’d come.
“We sure are two hardscrabble girls from west Texas,” said Kathy. “Sometimes, I can’t believe it myself.” She turned to the computer again. “You have my full support on this project—as much help as I can provide.”
“Thanks, Kathy. First up is finding my replacement at Welcome Home. I’ll certainly help with the search and the transition.”
But Kathy had gotten absorbed in what she was reading over Heather’s shoulder. “Hold everything—did you see this? You got funded, but at fifty thousand dollars less than you’d asked for…you’ve got immediate access to monies for capital expenses, but…damn it! They didn’t reduce the amount of services they want. They only reduced the funds. Now, how are you going to get this project going at full speed without that fifty thou?”
Heather stared at the announcement. “I guess the first thing I do is study the budget and see where I can save. Not with the kids…or staff…but maybe we can get the building up to code with volunteer help. I need to recruit someone who knows construction and who has a heart.”
“And time,” said Kathy. “Lots of people have good intentions. We need folks with the time and commitment to do it.”
“We’ll try to get materials donated.” Heather sat back in her chair. “I didn’t expect this money glitch. The start-up is going to be even harder than I thought.”
“Heck, you’ve already come up with two ideas. This will be a piece of cake. In fact, it’ll be as easy as shopping for your maid-of-honor dress this Saturday.”
Heather groaned. “You’re lucky I like Mark….”
Kathy hugged her tight. “I’m so proud of you, Heather. So glad we’re family.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” But soon Kathy’s life would be intertwined with Mark’s. They’d be a new family, and Heather would be on her own again.
KATHY HAD BEEN WRONG. Shopping for a dress was not easy. It was as awful as Heather had expected. The bride hadn’t been satisfied with anything Heather had tried on.
“Fine?” Kathy sounded outraged as Heather displayed the latest dress with a shrug. “We’re looking for more than fine. When we see it, we’ll know it.”
And in the fourth dress shop, they had seen it. Deep purple, the silky material draped across one shoulder, leaving the other shoulder bare. The dress had sequins and beads scattered throughout and came with a matching wrap. When Heather saw herself in the full-length mirror, she understood what her more fashion-conscious sister was talking about. She, who applied makeup in less than a minute when she remembered, now saw that her blue eyes had taken on a deeper hue, the planes of her face were emphasized, her high che
ekbones revealed. She twisted her long hair to the top of her head. “Oh, my.”
“Like a queen. We’re taking it. Can you measure and pin up her hem, please?” Kathy asked the sales-clerk. “If you’d think about your social life more, Heather, you’d have a decent wardrobe. Jeans don’t cut it everywhere.” Kathy reached for her charge card.
“Wait a minute. You’re not buying my dress.” She looked at the saleswoman. “How much is this one?”
The woman showed her the tag. Heather gulped. “Neither one of us is buying this dress. Come on, Kath. I’m going to let you have more shopping fun. Let’s go.”
Her sister’s eyes flashed. She stood rooted to the floor and smiled sweetly at the assistant. “Please get the tailor over here. My sister’s got wedding jitters.”
“But, Kathy, do you know how many sandwiches we could buy for that money? Or we could put it toward the new van….”
Kathy rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to draw boundaries, Heather. You are entitled to a personal life—without guilt. You look stunning in that dress, and you’re getting it. Besides,” she added, a smile lighting her face, “there will be an assortment of young eligible men at this affair, and I want them knocking each other down to get to you. I also want to show you off to Mark’s family.”
“I’m not looking…” Heather protested automatically. Then she paused. Mark’s family? Maybe this wasn’t about her love life at all.
“So, are you the one feeling jittery?”
Kathy shrugged.
“Kath—are you having second thoughts about Mark? If you are, hey, we can just call it off….”
But Kathy’s swung her head back and forth. “No, no. Mark’s wonderful. Truly wonderful. With a very big family who loves him very much. You know? Big.” She spread her arms wide in emphasis. “But you’re my family…the one that I can count on…and…and…”
Now Heather understood. “And you’re nervous about Mark’s family meeting our illustrious parents after all. Despite their two-year sobriety.”
Her sister fingered the brocade of another dress hanging on the nearest rack. “What if…? What if they can’t handle it? His family is generous—we’re having an open bar. What if Daddy falls off the wagon and falls on his face while walking me down the aisle?”
“And you think I’m the one with the imagination,” said Heather. “There’s an easy fix. Just don’t invite them.”
Kathy shook her head quickly. “People deserve second chances.”
Maybe other people. “You’re right, of course,” said Heather softly. She trusted her parents less than Kathy did. A lot less. If George and Jolene did anything—said anything—to ruin Kathy’s wedding…
“Tell you what I’ll do, Kath. Simply because you and Mark deserve a perfect day without any embarrassing scenes, I’ll take responsibility for them. Don’t give old George and Jolene a second thought. They’re in my charge.” She’d think up some kind of plan. Maybe hire someone to keep tabs on her dad—at least to share the chore.
“I know I’m worrying for nothing,” said Kathy. “They’re sober. It’s a big wedding. They’ll be on their best behavior.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Heather couldn’t vouch for her parents one way or the other. Although she’d spoken to her mother over the years, she hadn’t visited Dry Creek since she’d boarded that bus a decade ago. Kathy and Mark had gone out there last year, so Heather figured her folks couldn’t have been too bad. Mark had stuck around.
Her cell phone rang, but she knew better than to disturb the tailor who was pinning her dress. She gestured to Kathy who fished around in Heather’s purse until she found the mobile. She said hello, listened for a moment, then smiled at Heather.
“It’s Sara. She wants you at her birthday party tonight.”
“Keep talking for a minute.” The hem was fully tacked, and Heather stepped out of the gown, gave it to Kathy and quickly got back into her casual clothes. With one hand, she reached for the cell phone; the other hand lingered on the soft material in Kathy’s arms. It really was a beautiful dress.
Sara didn’t waste a word. “A personal appeal will do wonders for your cause. If you can touch their heartstrings, Heather, you’ll raise more money than I can alone. Tell them about the kids…how it feels to be…powerless….”
Her voice trailed off, and Heather knew Sara was remembering Dry Creek. Sara was the one kid in that town who understood exactly how Heather and Kathy had grown up.
“You know what, Heather?” said Sara. “I think you ease my conscience about the money I earn, and that’s why I’m glad to help out. Now, I’m going to give you a piece of advice about tonight. Wear something provocative to interest the men, but not too threatening to the women. If you make friends with both genders, you’ll collect more green.”
“Provocative? What are you talking about? I’ll come after I feed some kids. Then I’ll make my speech and get the heck out of there.”
She disconnected the call, Sara’s laughter still ringing in her ears.
She had to figure a way to get people to part with their hard-earned money. Without being provocative.
“YOUR HEATHER can sure be a handful.”
Not exactly the greeting Dave had expected when he arrived at Eve’s house early Saturday evening. “Here’s dessert,” he replied, handing her a gallon of ice cream.
“Thanks. Want to cool off with it now?” She grinned way up into his face from her five-foot-two vantage point, before leading him into the kitchen where Larry was basting a huge rack of ribs, and a petite blonde was tossing potato salad.
“You know Larry, my husband. And this is my sister, Lisa,” said Eve. “Direct from New Yawk.”
Dave shook hands with the man and smiled at the woman, who was still busy with the food. “Hey, Lisa from New Yawk. Welcome to Texas.”
Eve hadn’t lied. Her sister was a blond, blue-eyed cutie. Probably easier to deal with than another blonde he knew.
“Glad to be here,” said Lisa. “I don’t get to visit family nearly often enough.”
Dave automatically scanned for details. Her eyes were shadowed, tinged with sadness.
“We’re trying to convince her to move here,” said Eve. “She’s burned out on her job. She’s alone up north, and I’m alone here. Well—” she glanced at her husband “—not exactly alone…but our folks are gone. So, why not?” She hooked her arm through Dave’s. “But she’s being stubborn. Like the Marshall woman. Now, why can’t they all be like me? Reasonable. Fair.”
Dave was still chuckling when he stepped outside to the patio. He heard Larry cracking up in the background. Heard Lisa’s softer laugh joining in. Sometimes, he wished he’d had a brother or sister. Maybe he’d take his mom to breakfast tomorrow. Catch up with his dad in the afternoon. He sighed. Too bad their marriage couldn’t have worked out.
“Hey, McCoy,” called Jazzman. “I’ve got more info about our big adventure this week with Ms. Marshall…turns out that two of the guys are undocumented. The DHS is dealing with them. Out of our hair. But the other one…a real upstanding citizen. He’ll get bail, mark my words.”
“I heard,” said Dave. “And naturally, he’s the one Heather brought down.”
Jazzman’s eyebrows rose. “Heather, is it?”
“Knock it off.”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant, sir. Yes, sir.” Jazzman saluted.
Dave had to laugh.
New people kept arriving during the next hour; the patio filled up. Sure they talked shop, but they also caught up on Houston politics, and on one another’s families. Dave learned that Eve’s sister worked for Children’s Protective Services, had a humongous caseload, which was why she was exhausted. He studied the pictures of his friends’ kids. Too long between gatherings, thought Dave. In this informal atmosphere, with these guys, he could just be himself. No putting on a show face as he had to on duty. “You throw a nice party, Hannitys.”
The loud ring of the kitchen phone prevented Eve from responding. A dozen pair of
eyes followed her as she ran to answer it.
When Eve appeared in the doorway, her gaze deliberately fell on him.
“That was Powers,” Yorkie began. “The karate kid’s car was hit…with her in it. She’s fine, but it was a deliberate action.”
Dave jumped up, leaped the backyard fence and ran down the driveway. Then he ran back. “Where the hell is she?”
“The same place as last time. Scene of the original crime.”
Dave dashed toward his car, but heard Eve say loud enough for him to hear, “Men. He’s in love with a clueless sitting duck. And doesn’t even know it.”
“She’s not clueless,” he yelled. “Just stubborn. And it’s because of the kids. And I’m not…” He shut up. No one could hear him flying down the block in his car.
TEN MINUTES LATER, he stared at a Heather Marshall he’d never seen before. Her long hair tousled, she was wearing a sleeveless black blouse with black slacks, and high-heeled black sandals. Hot pink on her toes, fingernails and lips. She was stunning.
Powers had waited, and there were a couple of teenage girls around, too.
Where was she going dressed like that? Was there a guy in her life?
“We really…have to stop meeting like this,” she said softly before pressing her lips together. He knew bravura when he saw it. The woman was scared. Finally.
He didn’t move except to hold out his hand. She took it, and somehow wound up leaning against him, his arms around her. He inhaled her scent, so light and delicate, and felt her warmth.
“I got frightened because it was the same man.”
Dave stiffened. He started scanning the area one section at a time. “I’ve explained to Ms. Marshall that all three are still in jail,” Powers jumped in. His eyes met Dave’s, a question in them.
“She knows about the brother,” said Dave. “I told her.”
Heather stepped back. “He followed me Wednesday night…I’m almost positive.”
A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 4