Ripp batted a dismissive hand through the air. “Forget it. You’d do the same if the situation had been reversed. It’s just a part of this crazy job we have.”
Rye Travers leaned back in his chair and studied Ripp with a narrowed gaze. “Speaking of this job, Ripp, I was planning on talking with you before we got the domestic call. Has something happened here at work to upset you? I haven’t noticed any tension with the other deputies, but—”
“No. All the guys are great,” he cut in. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
The other man frowned. “I hate to call a man a liar, Ripp. But I can usually tell when someone isn’t telling me the truth. You’re holding something back.”
A tight grimace on his face, Ripp pulled off his Stetson and raked a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’m—uh—having a few personal problems.”
“Oh.” The other lawman picked up a pen and tapped it thoughtfully against the ink blotter on his desk. “I hope you and Mac aren’t out of sorts with each other. You two are the only family you have to speak of. You need to stick together.”
“We do. Always. I irritate him and he annoys me, but we love each other. That could never change.”
The sheriff smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. I just want to make sure all my deputies are in a good state of mind. And happy, if that’s possible.”
How long had it been since he’d actually been happy? Ripp wondered. For years now, especially after Pam had walked out on him, he’d settled for just having a normal life, not necessarily a happy one. Yet he hadn’t realized exactly what he’d been missing out on until Lucita had come into his life. Loving her had made him question every choice he’d ever made for his future.
Propping his ankle upon his knee, Ripp leaned forward. “Rye, do you ever remember Dad talking about his wife—my mother?”
Rye’s dark brows lifted with surprise. “That’s not something I remember your dad doing much—talking about his personal life. But there were a few times.”
“And?”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed shrewdly on Ripp’s face. “Why are you asking about your mother now? You never have before.”
Ripp looked away from the sheriff and stared unseeingly at a large map of Texas pinned to the office wall. Right now the misery in his heart felt that massive.
Biting back a sigh, he said, “Maybe because I didn’t think it was that important before. But I’ve been thinking about things here lately. Marti Sanchez—his father deserted him and Lucita. Just seeing the shadows in that little boy’s eyes reminded me of when Mom left. Mac and I didn’t understand. We thought she’d skipped out because of us.”
Rye’s expression was suddenly pensive. “The Sanchez kid—I guess all of us guys imagined ourselves at his age, going through what he did with that crazy woman. And having to face the fact that his father died a criminal.”
“Well, Marti has a good mother to make up for all that,” Ripp said, then glanced around to see a thoughtful frown furrowing his friend’s brow.
“Yeah, some of us are lucky like that, Ripp. As for your mother, I can’t really tell you much about what went on between your parents. Didn’t you ever talk to your dad about Frankie?”
Ripp shook his head. All he could remember about his mother was a woman with long black hair and shoulders slumped in weariness. She’d seemed tired all the time and her blue eyes, eyes the same color as his own, had held no light or hope. Looking back on it now, Ripp realized she must have been very unhappy. But why? Because she was tired of the responsibility of caring for two rambunctious sons? Tired of living on a farm where hard work was always waiting to be done?
“No,” Ripp said quietly. “That subject was taboo. Mac and I understood that if we mentioned her, we’d have a cold door shut in our face. So we didn’t. Mom’s parents lived in California, so they were out of the picture, Dad was the one who was there, showing us love and guidance, giving us food and shelter and anything else we needed. It seemed almost hateful to hurt him in that way. So we kept our mouths shut about her.”
Rye nodded. “Well, Owen didn’t mention Frankie often and when he did it was usually with bitterness. But the last time he brought her name up, it was on one Mother’s Day. She’d called him, he’d said, on the first Mother’s Day after she’d left the farm. I’m really not sure why Owen brought the matter up in the first place. I certainly didn’t. All I can figure is that the memory was hounding him and he needed to talk about it.”
His mind spinning, Ripp stared expectantly at him. “What else did he say? Anything?”
The other man suddenly grimaced, as though he wasn’t certain he should have opened his mouth at all. “You haven’t heard any of this before?”
“No. This is all news to me.”
Wiping a hand over his face, the sheriff said, “If Owen were still alive I wouldn’t be betraying his confidence. But he’s gone and I can see you need to hear this.” Shifting forward in his seat, he leveled his gaze on Ripp. “Owen told me that Frankie called begging to come home. Said she’d realized she’d made a mistake. She wanted to be with you boys, but Owen refused to let her anywhere near you and Mac or even himself. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to give her the chance to hurt the three of you all over again. Maybe he did the right thing. Or maybe he missed the chance to have his family back together again. I think your dad probably went to his grave wondering if he’d made the right decision.”
His mother had called! His mother had wanted to come home. Down through the years Owen had let his sons believe that she’d turned away from them completely and never once looked back. Now Ripp had to face the fact that there had been two sides to the story, details that their dad had purposely kept from them.
Strangled with emotions, Ripp looked at the floor and slowly turned his head from one side to the other. “Of all the things I expected to hear—it wasn’t this. He never told us. He let us think—”
Across the desk, he could hear his longtime friend sigh with regret.
“Ripp, your dad wasn’t some god with a shiny badge pinned to his chest. He was just a man, a very human man. And sometimes we men make mistakes. He loved you. Be grateful for that.”
We men make mistakes. The words rang through Ripp like a clanging bell and the reverberation couldn’t be ignored. Rye was right about men making mistakes. Ripp had made a big one with Lucita. He’d expected too much from her too soon. He’d let his wounded pride blind every ounce of common sense he possessed.
Rising to his feet, he pulled on his Stetson and started to the door. “I can forgive him, Rye. ’Cause I’ve made a big mistake myself,” he said grimly.
As Ripp reached for the door handle to let himself out, Rye said, “Most mistakes are fixable. I’ll bet this one isn’t as big as you think.”
“I don’t know,” Ripp muttered. “But I’m about to find out.”
Lucita’s hands were trembling as she parked the old ranch truck at the side of the sheriff’s department building and reached for the door handle.
She didn’t know why she was getting so nervous about her decision to face Ripp. For all she knew, he might have already headed home for the evening. And even if he was still on duty, he might be busy with paperwork, or on patrol.
Of course, she still had his cell number. But she’d been too cowardly to call it, too afraid that he wouldn’t give her a chance to say anything personal between them.
And if you do find him here, what are you going to say now, Lucita? That you’ve been an idiot? That you didn’t realize just how much you loved him until he was out of your life? Dear God, that sounded so lame, so silly. She wouldn’t blame him if he refused to forgive her. But she had to try. Marti had opened her eyes. He’d made her see that if she couldn’t trust, she might as well give up everything meaningful in life. Would Ripp understand that?
Her high heels felt as if they were made of lead as she walked into the building and over to the waist-high counter where the same female officer with a blon
d ponytail was sitting at the small desk. Throughout the ordeal with Marti’s kidnapping, Lucita had learned her name was Tava and that she’d left her studies at Sul Ross University to embark on a career in law enforcement.
Tonight, recognition crossed the young woman’s face as she spotted Lucita at the counter. Smiling, she rose to her feet. “Hello, Ms. Sanchez. How can I help you this evening? I hope you haven’t had more trouble.”
Feeling a blush sting her cheeks, Lucita quickly shook her head. “No. Don’t worry. Everything is finally quiet and peaceful on the ranch. Uh—I was—” Nervously, she swallowed and tried to start again. “Actually, I stopped by to see if Deputy McCleod was around. I—”
“I’m right here.”
The sound of Ripp’s low voice momentarily stunned her motionless. And then a mixture of dread and eagerness sent her heart into a rapid thud as she slowly turned to see he was standing only a few feet behind her.
“Ripp.”
It was all she could say and somewhere in the back of her mind, Lucita realized that behind them Tava was probably wondering what was going on, why the small foyer was suddenly charged with undercurrents.
“Is something wrong? Has something happened?” he asked.
Weeks ago she’d stood in this same spot and he’d asked her the same question, she realized. After finding the note pinned to her truck, she’d been terrified and she’d run straight to this man. Even then, something inside her had trusted him, but somewhere along the way, her head had gotten in the way of her heart. The night they’d made love she should have told him how she really felt. Now she could only hope it wasn’t too late.
“Uh—no. Nothing has happened.” His blue eyes were riveted on her face and she felt her heart jerk into an even faster gear as she met his questioning gaze. “I…was just on my way home from work and I…stopped by to see if…I could…If you have time to talk.”
She was sounding more stupid by the minute, she realized, as her gaze slipped from his face. Then she noticed the crude bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Moments ago, when she turned to see him, she’d been too shaken to notice it. Now she couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward and planting her hands against his chest.
“Ripp! Your arm! What happened?”
Not bothering to answer, he grabbed her by the forearm and marched her through the double doors that were the exit to the building. Outside, dusk had fallen and most of the parking slots around the municipal compound were now empty. Across the way, streetlamps were beginning to flicker to life and closer, on the manicured lawn, a pair of mourning doves were deciding it was time to roost.
Lucita’s mind whirled as he guided her to the side of the building, out of sight of anyone who entered or exited the front. What was he thinking? Was seeing her again tilting his world the same way that the touch of his hand was shaking hers?
Eventually, he stopped their forward motion and turned to her. As Lucita looked up at him, she realized that just seeing his rugged face was like a warm rain after a cold, dry winter and she soaked up the precious sight.
“The arm is nothing,” he explained. “Just a little run-in with a butcher knife. What I want to know is what are you doing here?”
He didn’t sound angry. Nor did he sound pleased, she decided as she carefully studied the guarded expression on his face. Sucking in a bracing breath, she tried to make sense as she answered, “I—I’m sorry I just showed up like this, Ripp. I realize I should have called. But I wanted to speak with you in person. To tell you…that I was wrong. The other night at your place—I said all the wrong things to you and I—I’m sorry.”
As she waited for him to respond, she could feel herself breathing hard, as though she was waiting to hear a verdict of life or death.
Aeons seemed to pass as he quietly studied her face and then to her utter surprise he tilted his head back and laughed toward the tree limbs above their heads.
“Oh, Lucita! This is incredible and you’re probably not going to believe me, but—”
He looked back down at her and this time she could see the soft light of love in his eyes. Even before he spoke another word, her heart soared with hope.
“But what?” she prompted.
“Before you walked in I had already decided to call you tonight. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I knew I had to change your mind about marrying me.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly shook his head to stop her.
“No. Just let me say this, Lucita. You said you were wrong. Well, I was even more wrong. Damn, I—this past week or so has been—I’ve walked around like a dead man. Just tell me what you want of me, Lucita. I’ll give it to you. Time. Patience. I’ll do anything. Just give me a chance to become your husband.”
Feeling as though the world had just settled back on its axis, Lucita smiled up at him. “What I want from you isn’t complicated, my darling. All you have to do is be my husband and love me forever.”
He closed his eyes and beneath her palms she could feel a rush of air leave his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
“Come on,” he muttered thickly. “We’re going home.”
Fifteen minutes later they were in Ripp’s bedroom. He’d not taken the time to turn on even one light, so the house was dark. The only sounds to be heard were the whisper of clothing against skin as garments slid to the floor, gasps of pleasure as lips and hands touched and worshipped, soft words carried on notes of raw emotion.
Their bodies came together quickly, without the need for more questions or answers. It was enough for Lucita to know that Ripp loved her and wanted her. The rest would take care of itself.
When their spiraling climb to rapture finally descended back to earth, Lucita once again found her head pillowed on Ripp’s shoulder. Only this time there were no doubts lingering in her mind. No wall guarding her heart.
As she glided a hand across his hard abdomen she was filled with a sense of peace and homecoming.
“Tell me, Lucita, what made you change your mind? When I saw you at the sheriff’s office I was shocked. I’d convinced myself that you didn’t really care for me at all.”
The corners of her mouth lifted lazily upward as she drew tiny circles upon his damp skin. “Marti convinced me. He loves you. He trusts you. He made me see that if I couldn’t trust you, too, I’d lose any chance at happiness.”
Tilting her head slightly, she studied his face. His eyes were closed and a day-old growth of whiskers covered his jaws. There was a haggard edge to his features, yet in spite of that she could see a sense of contented relief. Knowing that she’d given him that much swelled her heart.
One of his hands stroked the back of her head, down the long length of her hair, then onto the bare skin below. “I don’t know how you can forgive me, Lucita. I’ve behaved like a selfish ass. All I was thinking about was myself. When you turned down my marriage proposal all I could think was that you were just like the other two women in my life that I’d tried to love. First my mother left, then Pam. And there you were saying you weren’t ready to make a life with me. I felt so rejected. I wasn’t thinking about all that you’d been through with Derek, or that you might have been afraid to jump into marriage again.”
“I was afraid,” she agreed.
His head shook against the pillow. “Mac told me my pride was getting in my way. I didn’t want to believe that he could be right. Until tonight, after something Sheriff Travers told me.”
Very curious now, Lucita raised up on her elbow to look at him. “Really? What could he have said that pertained to us?”
“I learned something about my parents.” His eyes connected with hers. “You see, my mother left when Mac and I were something like eight and ten years old. Dad didn’t tell us, but we heard through the local gossip chain that she’d run off with some guy who operated a tire business in town. At that age we didn’t much understand the connotation of what that ‘other man’ meant. We only knew she’d left us boys behind an
d that she must have really hated us.”
“Oh, Ripp. Just like Marti. That’s so awful. Didn’t your father explain what happened? Later, when you were old enough to understand?”
“He wouldn’t talk about her. Except to say ‘the damn woman was sorry, that’s all’ or ‘she didn’t deserve the home I tried to give her.’ Mac and I pretty much agreed with Dad. Especially as time went by and she never showed her face again.”
Aching for him, Lucita gently stroked her fingertips against his temple. “So you never heard from her again?”
“No. And until tonight I’d believed that she’d turned her back on us completely. The sheriff told me that shortly after she left our farm, she called my father and told him that she’d made a bad mistake. She wanted to come home and be a family with us again. But Dad refused to let her return. Guess he couldn’t trust her. Or maybe by then he didn’t love her anymore. All I know is that she didn’t hate us boys. She wanted to be our mother. But Dad kept her out of our lives and led us to believe that’s the way she wanted things.”
“She could have fought him,” Lucita pointed out.
“Yeah. But you didn’t know Owen McCleod. He was like a piece of unbending iron. I guess she decided she was too weak to fight him. Especially after her tryst with the tire man. She must have thought the whole town viewed her as a jezebel.”
Piqued by his sad tale, Lucita leaned over and switched on a small lamp at the head of the bed. Once the soft orb of light shed a golden hue over his face, she said, “I don’t believe that, Ripp.”
A faint frown marred his forehead. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that your mother didn’t sound like the sort of woman who’d simply give up what she wanted. Something else must have happened to her.”
“Are you thinking that she might have died?” Ripp asked.
Lucita nodded. “Maybe. Or perhaps some person or thing stood in her way. Have you ever tried to contact her?”
“No. Never wanted to. I could only see the misery she caused. Now, well…I’m going to think about searching.” The seriousness on his face suddenly disappeared and with a wicked grin, he pulled her head down to his. “That’s enough about the past. Tonight is all about you and me—us.”
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