by Jodi Thomas
Lauren closed her eyes so tightly tears dripped out. He might be talking about a time that would never come. Couldn’t she just love him? Why did it have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she pretend and maybe it would come true?
But she couldn’t. Not with him. No matter how much she wished for this, she would never lie to Lucas.
He pulled her into his hug and held her for a while, then whispered, “Passion starts in the blood, not just the brain, Lauren. You can’t talk yourself into this. I’m not sure you really know who I am and, with all that’s going on, it’s probably not the best time for me to be thinking of anything but staying alive. When we get together, I want it to be just you and me. I may not be the hero you think I am. And maybe you’re not the perfect sheriff’s daughter you think you have to be.”
She wanted to scream No. He was wrong. She needed to feel something now. She wanted to know that she was real inside, full, alive.
She lay still as he buttoned her pants, then her shirt, then the windbreaker. When she was fully dressed, he pulled her to her feet. “We’ll try this again sometime. We’ll go dancing. We’ll drink wine. We’ll take our time.”
Anger built like a slow burn in her gut. “Lucas, we’re not children. You can make love to me.” She felt like she was offering him a gift that he didn’t want.
He kissed the top of her head as he had ten years ago when she turned sixteen. “I don’t want to just have sex, Lauren. I want to be in love with you so deeply that you’re in my every thought.” He caught the chain around her neck and pulled the key up. “But now is not the time or the place.”
She pushed away, realizing he was stepping back from her again. She’d heard those words before. “It never is the right time with you, Lucas.” All the other times he’d walk out avalanched through her mind. He’d even said they’d be together tonight and then he’d stopped when he’d heard her confession. She wasn’t perfect, either. She couldn’t feel.
He might say she wanted him to be perfect, more than he was, but he wanted the same.
She felt like they were mannequins, an aisle apart, always admiring one another but never moving a step closer. Perfection in wax and plastic.
“You don’t understand, do you?” He sounded tired.
“You’re right. I don’t understand. I’m trying to love you when you’re not ready to love me back. I’m sick of wanting you, or comparing every man to you and having none quite measure up. I’m through with waiting. Tonight was your one chance and you blew it.” Being mad at him was easier than looking too deeply inside herself.
She was off the rock and running toward the one light along the shoreline before he could say a word. Part of her knew she was being unfair, but she’d waited so long to feel alive. All she’d wanted tonight was to feel, and Lucas was the only man who might have made that happen.
She veered off the shoreline and into the trees. She knew the path by heart even in the darkness, but she didn’t know herself. She was drifting again, floating between planets.
A few minutes later she slid through the patio door of the O’Grady lake house and went straight to Tim’s bedroom. She didn’t know if she was shaking with cold or with anger. All she knew was that she hurt inside and couldn’t be alone.
Tim was sitting in the middle of his bed with papers scattered around him and a laptop on his crossed knees. When she stepped in the doorway he didn’t look surprised. “I guess you know Lucas is hiding out here. He sort of broke out of jail, with your Pop’s help, and came here—can you believe it?”
She just stared at Tim. She had no idea what to say. For once she didn’t want to talk.
Tim didn’t seem to have the same problem. “He’s probably sleeping. If you’re here to see him, go down the hallway to the room that used to be my parents’.”
She just kept standing in the doorway. The numbness she often felt was seeping back into her bones. She wouldn’t allow her heart to break. “I didn’t come to see Lucas. I came to ask if you’d hold me for a while. I’m cold.”
Tim pushed the manuscript aside and opened the covers. “Want to sleep with me, L? You know you’re always welcome.”
She nodded, tugged off her jacket and wet shoes, then crawled into his bed.
He flipped off the light and drew her under his arm. “Want to have sex?” he asked. “I’m happy to put that on the menu too.”
“No.”
Tim laughed. “Of course not. How about we just cuddle?”
“Sounds good.”
His hand moved along her arm, warming her. “You know, L, if I wrote this scene in a novel no one would believe it. I’m not sure it’s normal for a grown man and woman to sleep together and not sleep together, if you know what I mean.”
She rested her cheek against his sweatshirt and cried softly.
He pushed her damp hair off her cheek. “It’s all right, L. You can come sleep with me for as long as you want to. If I get married someday, I’ll just tell my wife to move over enough to make room for my best friend. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Lauren laughed and pushed her tears away with her palm. “I love you, Tim.”
“Yeah, I love you too. Go to sleep. We’ll figure out the world over coffee in the morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DAN WASN’T SURPRISED to find his daughter having breakfast with Tim O’Grady when he came by to pick up Lucas. Tim had been his daughter’s best friend since they were both five. He was a good enough guy, probably the perfect friend to make his shy Lauren laugh, but Dan’s greatest fear was that she’d fall in love with the neighbor kid and he’d be stuck with a writer for a son-in-law. Then, with his luck, all his grandchildren would be redheaded beanpoles with no common sense, just like their father.
“Want me to go with you today, Sheriff?” Tim asked as he offered Dan a burned pancake. “I know you’re short one deputy and I memorized all the lingo from watching CSI.”
“No thanks.” Dan caught Lauren’s look. That don’t-do-anything-to-hurt-my-friend’s-feelings look all fathers recognize in their daughters by the age of five. “I was hoping you could man the office this morning, Tim. Lauren might have time to help you. I need someone I can depend on.” The words even tasted bad as they came out, but Dan didn’t want to disappoint his daughter, even if it meant putting up with O’Grady.
“Why?” Tim asked. “What’s going on besides Blade Hamilton being in the hospital and not one crime around here has been solved in days?”
Dan just stared at Tim. He knew the writer would have more questions.
“Shouldn’t I be issued a gun? Or does Pearly already have one hidden away somewhere in the office? She seems like the type. You know, little old lady who packs a .45 in her gym bag and doesn’t even have a gym membership.”
That was another tic he had, the sheriff decided. Tim always answered his own questions. Half the time he was too busy telling himself a story to listen to the facts.
“Pearly called in sick. Said she was still in bed.” Dan rattled off facts while he had the chance. “My only deputy is in the hospital. Someone just needs to man the office phone.”
Tim ate half his burned pancake in one bite. “I’ve never known her to miss a day of work. You think we should go by and check on her? At her age she could be dead from near anything.”
Before Dan had to answer that question, Lucas walked into the kitchen. He was dressed in one of Tim’s The Aliens Have Landed sweatshirts and his dark hair was still wet from the shower. Not the polished lawyer look today. He didn’t bother to speak. He simply stared at the three eating breakfast.
“My house guest.” Tim pointed with his fork at Lucas as if Lauren and the sheriff might not notice another person in the small kitchen.
As Lucas accepted a burned pancake, he took the seat next to Dan and seemed not to notice
Lauren sitting at the end of the counter.
After drowning his pancake in syrup, Lucas muttered, “Morning, Sheriff.”
Dan hadn’t had enough sleep to figure out the three of them this morning. He decided to concentrate on Lucas. “I sent some of your clothes with Cap to the hospital for Blade. He may get to come home this afternoon. Since the jogging suit didn’t work out, I thought we’d try Western clothes, including your boots.”
Lucas finally gave a nod to Lauren, then turned back to the sheriff. “That’s fine, but I get the feeling Western is not his style, either. Why send him home? He’s probably safer in the hospital. Besides, I don’t think he has a home.”
“I talked to Dakota and she said she and her sister would take him in for a few days. After all, he is their neighbor, and that old house on his land will take weeks to make it livable. Once he’s out of the hospital, he’ll need somewhere to rest and someone to help change the bandages.”
“Don’t look at me.” Tim tried to give Lauren a pancake but she wouldn’t reach for it. “I’m running the hideout, not the recovery center.”
The sheriff smiled. “I think he’ll be in better hands at the Davis place. I’m told Maria is a great cook.”
Lucas shoved his breakfast away after one bite.
Tim swallowed another half of a pancake and changed the conversation as if simply flipping channels on a TV no one was watching. “I hear they superglue bullet holes closed. What if the deputy springs a leak when he’s recovering?” He lifted another pancake from the stack no one was eating. “I wonder if the superglue really works. I read it on the internet. Did they do that to you that time you got shot out on Highway 111, Sheriff?”
Dan motioned for Lucas to head toward the door. “Don’t have time to talk. Thanks for the hideout, Tim.”
He glanced at his daughter and felt like screaming Don’t marry Tim! But maybe he shouldn’t worry. They were just friends.
As he and Lucas walked out to the cruiser, Dan asked, “How long has Lauren been here?”
“I don’t know. She was drinking coffee and talking to Tim when I woke up. You think there’s something between them, Sheriff?”
“Yeah, me.” Dan laughed. “Seriously, they’ve always been friends but if I thought there was more going on, I’d either have to shoot him or myself. I couldn’t live with his constant questions, and he tells the worst jokes I’ve ever heard.”
Lucas climbed into the car and added, “You know, I think he’s my best friend too. I know a lot of people in the city, but not one I’d trust to help me escape from jail. When he found me hiding in his Jeep, he didn’t hesitate to help.”
Dan started the car. “You’re right. Tim’s not so bad.”
“Where we headed, Sheriff?”
“I want to talk to the one Collins we haven’t talked to. Charley. We’re driving out to Lone Heart ranch. One, maybe he can tell us something we don’t know and two, you need to stay out of sight just in case your theory about the shooter thinking Blade was you is right. Our official comment on you is that you have been moved to a safe house.”
“Do you have a safe house?”
“No, but no one has to know that.”
Lucas leaned back and slept while Dan drove. The young lawyer seemed like a man with a great deal on his mind. Things he didn’t plan to share with a lawman. Only, Dan hoped he might share a bit with Charley, and Dan planned to be listening to every word.
The sheriff played with the puzzle pieces in his mind. He had to figure this out before someone else got shot, or killed, or disappeared. At the rate things were going, Crossroads would be a ghost town before his term of office was up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BLADE STARED AT his reflection in the pop-up mirror on his hospital tray table. He’d been in Texas less than a week and he didn’t even look like himself. Wild hair, the shadow of a beard, bruises everywhere and new wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. He was aging a year for every day he stayed around here.
The docs had done a great job of patching him up, but he still felt weak as a newborn calf trying to stand for the first time. “Hell,” he said aloud. He was starting to think like a Texan. Next thing he knew he’d be wearing pointed-toe boots and chewing tobacco.
Right now he doubted he’d even be able to fight off the Elf or her grandmother.
Not that he’d ever try fighting off Dakota. If she ever came at him, Blade had a feeling it would be full-out, be it love or hate.
She’d been sleeping in the recliner in his room for hours. Her hair was a wild mess, half covering her face. She’d said she wouldn’t sleep with him, but she’d offered to take care of him. He must matter to her. He couldn’t think of anyone, including his own mother, who’d make that offer.
He thought of telling Dakota that sleeping with him would be a hell of a lot easier than having to take care of him, but he doubted she’d follow that logic.
The nurse came in about noon and said they were putting him through a few more tests; then, if all was fine, he could go home.
She’d added, “The University of Colorado Hospital sent over your records, Agent Hamilton. A few facts stood out. You’re in great shape, have regular checkups, and always leave after an injury before the doctors tell you to. So the team has decided to get ahead of the game and release you early. Go home and rest.” She handed him a folder and a sheet of do-nots.
Blade thought of telling her he didn’t have a home. He’d never had a home. He barely remembered the houses they’d moved to during his childhood. His mother never put up pictures on a wall, or books on a shelf, or even a Christmas tree. He’d asked her once if she remembered his birthday and she’d said, How could I forget? It was the most painful day of my life.
But Blade just said thanks and tried his best to listen to the nurse’s lecture. He knew the drill.
The elf in the corner woke up about the time a nurse was helping him on with the jeans and Western shirt Lucas had sent over. Dakota just rubbed her eyes and stared as if she’d fallen asleep at the drive-in theater and had woken up during the good part of the show.
Blade thought he looked like he should be trick-or-treating in the boots and pearl-snap shirt, but Dakota told him he looked fine.
The boots were a bit too big, but they would do. The jacket was leather, longer than his biker jacket, but it felt like it had been made for him.
When the nurse ordered him to sit in the wheelchair, he did so without a word. He’d fought this battle twice before and lost both times.
Dakota disappeared as he signed out and was waiting for him at the hospital entrance in her old pickup. While she waited, she’d combed her hair, but her clothes were hopelessly wrinkled.
He let the nurses help him into the truck and even managed to wave goodbye. Another change from the last time he left the hospital. Maybe Dakota was a calming influence on him, or maybe it had something to do with all the drugs they’d given him.
“Mind if we stop at a clothing store on the way home?” He tried to sound like he was fine even though he was starting to hate that word. “I need to pick up a few things. Underwear, for one.”
Dakota glanced at him as she drove. “You’re going commando?”
“Yes. How about you?” He swore he saw her blush.
She didn’t say a word until she pulled into the parking lot of a Western-wear store. “They’ve got everything in here.”
“I don’t dress Western.”
“You look good in it. I’ll pick a few things out for you.”
“Only if I get to pick a few out for you.” A blouse that wasn’t two sizes too big and a pair of jeans that fit her like skin sounded good.
Elf didn’t look happy, but she must have been in a hurry to get him home because she didn’t argue. Fifteen minutes later he walked out with two bags. Hers he
ld a sexy outfit with rhinestones. What she’d bought for him in the other bag was anyone’s guess. He doubted he’d ever wear the clothes she’d picked out, but he couldn’t wait to see her in what he’d selected.
He was exhausted, as if he’d run forty miles in mud, but for once she wanted to have a real conversation. Like nothing was going on in his world. Like he didn’t have things he needed to think about. The top of the list being who shot him.
He had no idea.
Dakota talked as they drove the two hours back to Crossroads in an old truck that seemed to be trying to rock him to sleep.
About halfway between Crossroads and Lubbock, Blade felt like he was listening to the history of Texas on tape.
It took him a while, but he finally decided she was discussing history because she didn’t want to talk about the two of them. And if she was afraid to even mention what might happen between them, then she was halfway there.
He fell asleep thinking about how she’d be as a lover. Hopefully she wouldn’t talk through it.
Suddenly he laughed, waking himself completely, as he realized he didn’t care. She could talk all night just as long as she was beside him.
Any hope that she’d help him undress once they got to her place vanished when Blade climbed out of the truck and noticed Dice Fuller propped on the porch railing like a buzzard dressed up in boots.
The old guy must have guessed what Blade was thinking because he was grinning the whole time he helped Blade. He even added that Dakota had to go to work so everything would look normal; after all, no one was to know that Blade was out of the hospital.
“But don’t you worry about her being gone, Granny and I’ll take care of you.”
Nothing makes a man get well faster than having unwanted help. After Dice assisted him with the boots, Blade said he could handle the rest.
The only bright side to staying at the Davis place seemed to be that Maria had made gingersnap cookies. The whole house smelled like heaven. The dark side was, Grandmother delivered his milk and cookies along with a threat to cut him up for cat food if he stepped out of line.