“What happened?” he asked.
Sarah looked pointedly at Jackie. “We just decided it would be fun to stay here with you for a few days.”
“Mama says you have a VCR,” Jackie exclaimed.
“That’s right, I do.” Reese opened the door and let them in, his brow still creased with questions. For a moment the three of them stood awkwardly in the living room.
“So, where are we gonna sleep?” Jackie asked, breaking the tension.
“Come on up and I’ll show you,” Reese said, gesturing for them to follow him up the stairs. As Sarah walked behind him, she felt her face flush with heat as she remembered that the last time she’d been here he’d carried her up the stairs and to his bedroom. When he got to the top of the stairs he turned and looked at her, and in the smoldering depths of his eyes she saw that he entertained the same memory.
“Uh, I’ve got two spare rooms. You can have one and Jackie the other,” he said.
Jackie grabbed hold of her mother’s hand. “I want to sleep with you,” she said in a loud whisper. Anger resounded throughout Sarah as she nodded affirmatively. Jackie had always been wonderfully independent, but the events of the last couple of days had stolen some of that independence from her. And for that reason alone Sarah hated the person responsible.
“We can both stay in the same room,” Sarah told Reese. She smiled reassuringly at Jackie. “We like bunking together, right?” Jackie nodded with a smile.
He led them into a sparsely furnished room with a beige spread on the bed and matching curtains at the window. The bed and a double dresser were the only pieces of furniture in the room. “It’s not much,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Jackie quipped. “You just sleep in a bedroom.”
“Jackie, I’m sure Reese wouldn’t mind if you went downstairs and turned on the television. It’s just about time for your favorite cartoons.”
Jackie looked at Reese for permission. When he nodded, she scampered back down the stairs. “So, tell me what’s going on,” Reese said the minute she was gone.
Sarah quickly told him about the poisoned casserole and the death of the dog. “If Lindy hadn’t given that food to the dogs, we probably would have eaten it. Reese, I couldn’t stay out there, not knowing what else might be poisoned, what else could happen.”
“You did the right thing coming here,” he agreed. “I have a little bit of news to tell you. Raymond Boswell was in St. Louis last night. There’s no way possible that he was the intruder. I spoke to the bellman and the desk clerk at the hotel where he’s staying. There’s no doubt about him being there.”
“What about Ben?” Sarah asked hesitantly.
Reese frowned, his eyes darkening to a shade of midnight. “Ben is another matter. According to the desk clerk at the hotel where he’s staying, he retired about nine o’clock last night and asked that he not be disturbed. He didn’t order room service and apparently nobody saw him between nine last night and eight this morning. Between those hours it would have been possible for him to drive here, get into the house and get back to Kansas City.”
“I can’t believe it. I mean I don’t want to believe it,” Sarah said softly. “Poor Lindy. If it’s true, it will break her heart.”
“We don’t know that it’s true,” Reese replied. “Just because he doesn’t have an airtight alibi doesn’t mean he’s the culprit. But at the moment he’s definitely at the top of my suspect list.”
“At least I know now for certain that Lindy isn’t in any way responsible. There’s no way she would poison one of her own dogs.”
Reese nodded. “Where is she?”
“She went to stay at Anna’s. She’s always felt very close to Anna and will be more comfortable there.” She hesitated a moment. “I hope you don’t mind us coming here.”
He touched her arm, a light touch that still evoked an immediate response in Sarah. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ll be safe and that’s the most important thing in the world to me.” His gaze held hers for a long moment until she finally broke the contact and looked away.
“I’ve decided not to return to New York until we find out who’s doing all this. I don’t want to go back home and take my fear with me. I want all this settled before we leave.”
“I think you’re smart,” he agreed. Again a moment of awkward silence fell between them. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of here and let you get unpacked. Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “We ate at Anna’s when we dropped off Lindy.”
“Let me know if you need anything.” He hesitated a moment longer, then turned and walked down the stairs.
Sarah expelled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. This was going to be far more difficult than she’d realized. Even now she could feel his presence surrounding her, the scent of him lingering in the air. She’d come here seeking safety, but she suddenly didn’t feel safe at all.
* * *
Reese sat alone at the kitchen table. The floorboards squeaked overhead as Sarah moved around in the bedroom, and Jackie’s giggles mingled with the sounds of the television, drifting in from the living room. The house had never been so filled with life.
His blood ran cold as he thought of the poisoned dog...poison intended for the Calhoun women. Dear God, how long could Sarah’s luck hold out? Somebody was trying every means possible to see her dead. Who in the hell could it be? He hadn’t lied when he told Sarah that Ben was at the top of his suspect list, but he wasn’t fool enough to jump to conclusions.
One thing he had learned in this lifetime was that things weren’t always as black and white as they seemed. And besides, he didn’t have enough concrete evidence to prove anything. He had his men checking out every possibility, pursuing anything that made sense and much that didn’t. Somehow, someway they had to get a break.
The best he could do was wait...wait for the guilty party to tip a hand, get careless, make a mistake. In the meantime he knew it would take all his willpower, all his energy, to maintain a pleasant, platonic relationship with Sarah.
There was an old saying that familiarity breeds contempt. A part of him hoped it was true. Perhaps the enforced closeness of their living condition would prove to Sarah once and for all that he wasn’t—and could never be—father material.
He loved Sarah, had probably never stopped loving her. And there was a part of him that loved Jackie. He loved them both enough to let them go on with their lives and find a man who could be everything and all to them. He loved them both enough to know that he wasn’t the right man.
He was vaguely aware of the sudden silence in the living room and the sounds of Jackie’s footsteps climbing the stairs. A moment later he heard the same pattering feet coming back down the stairs.
Jackie entered the kitchen and sat down across from him at the table. “Mama’s asleep,” she announced, staring at him in the unselfconscious fashion of her age. She giggled. “She was making little snoring sounds.”
“She must be exhausted,” Reese said, feeling a need to fidget beneath the little girl’s direct gaze.
Jackie leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs exactly the same way Reese’s legs were crossed. “Mr. Sheriff, I guess if Mama’s asleep, that means you’re baby-sitting me until she wakes up.” She smiled, a sweet smile of complete acceptance. “So, what do you want to do?” she asked.
Reese stared at her. He’d faced down a drug-crazed teenager with a gun, he’d been cornered by a rabid dog for an hour, he’d done a million dumb, dangerous things. But never had he felt the gut-twisting kind of fear that now blossomed inside him as he realized that, until Sarah awakened, he was in charge of entertaining his own daughter.
Chapter 12
Sarah stretched languidly and kept her eyes firmly closed, reluctant to leave her sleep behind. Ah, she’d slept so deeply. There had been no disturbing nightmares, no confusing dreams, only a dark, peaceful oblivion. It had been wonderful.
She stretched again, this time knowing th
at she was awake to stay. She opened her eyes and looked around the darkened bedroom, for a moment tense and disoriented as she viewed the unfamiliar surroundings.
As the events of the day flooded back to her she relaxed once again. Of course, they were safe...in Reese’s house. She looked around again, wondering how long she had been asleep. She hadn’t meant to actually take a nap, had only intended to stretch out for a few minutes. She squinted and looked at her wristwatch, shocked to see it was almost nine o’clock. She’d been asleep for more than four hours.
Jackie. Where was Jackie? She jumped out of bed, her heart pounding in her chest. My God, what had Jackie been doing for the last four hours? How could she have fallen so sound asleep and left her daughter to her own devices?
As she walked down the first two steps of the staircase she heard Reese and Jackie’s voices coming out of the living room. She paused and sat down in the stairwell, then peeked into the room below.
Reese and Jackie lay on their stomachs facing each other, both holding cards for the game in progress. “Okay, what do you have?” Reese asked the little girl.
Sarah watched as Jackie showed him her hand. “I’ve got three sixes,” she said.
“And I’ve got two pairs. That means your hand beats mine, little squirrel. You get the pot.” The pot consisted of a small pile of toothpicks.
Poker? He was teaching her little girl how to play poker? Sarah frowned, trying to decide how she felt about her five-year-old learning to play poker. Somehow it didn’t matter what he was teaching her to play. What mattered was the smile on her daughter’s face and the reflection of that smile curving Reese’s lips.
“Let’s play again,” Jackie urged.
“Again? You’ve already beat me a dozen times,” Reese protested. Jackie giggled and the sound touched the soft core of Sarah’s heart. “You want another piece of pizza?” Reese asked her.
“No, my tummy is too stuffed,” Jackie replied, then grinned. “But we made it good, didn’t we?”
“We sure did,” he agreed.
They’d made pizza? Surely they had just ordered one and warmed it up, she thought. She watched a few more minutes, feeling like a spy but unable to tear herself away from the vision of father and daughter playing cards, laughing, obviously enjoying each other’s company. It made her ache inside with a curious mixture of pleasure and pain.
She closed her eyes, allowing the pain to momentarily usurp the pleasure. It was a false picture, she told herself. Reese was entertaining a houseguest for the evening, nothing more, nothing less. It was one thing to be kind to a little girl and play games with her, quite another to make the kind of emotional commitment a father would make.
Standing up, she went down the remaining stairs, smiling at the two people who held her heart. “Hi, Mama. You sure took a good nap,” Jackie greeted her. “Mr. Sheriff teached me how to play poker.”
Reese sat up with a sheepish grin. “We got tired of Go Fish.” He stood up and raked a hand through his hair, looking more relaxed and boyish than Sarah had ever seen him. “You hungry?”
“We made pizza, just the two of us,” Jackie said. “It was pretty yummy, right, Mr. Sheriff?”
“Right,” Reese agreed. “You know, Jackie, you can call me Reese.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Nah, I like Mr. Sheriff better.”
Reese shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, then looked back at Sarah. “So, how about some pizza?”
Sarah nodded, realizing she was hungry. “Jackie, why don’t you go on up and put your pajamas on. It’s already past your bedtime.”
Jackie sidled over to Sarah and leaned into her. “Come with me, okay? I don’t want to go by myself.”
Sarah looked down at her daughter and realized the events of the previous night had made a deeper scar than the bruises around her neck. “I’ll tell you what. How about we go upstairs and get your pj’s on, then you can stay down here on the sofa until I’m ready to go to sleep.”
Jackie hesitated a moment, then nodded. “We’ll be right back,” Sarah said, smiling apologetically to Reese.
“No problem,” he assured her. “I’ll just warm up the pizza in the oven.”
As they went up the stairs, Reese went back into the kitchen, where he placed the remaining pizza in the oven, then sat down at the table. His thoughts were in a jumble. And what kept coming to the foreground was utter, complete amazement.
He’d never dreamed a kid of his would be so smart. He’d only had to show Jackie something once and she immediately caught on. Hell, he’d known grown men who’d caught on to the rudimentary rules of poker slower than she had. Amazing. She must have gotten that particular attribute from Sarah.
And she was witty, too. She’d made him laugh a dozen times with humorous quips that displayed a quick mind. He warmed inside. That had to be his genes knocking around inside her.
She’d talked a lot, sharing with him some of the details of their life in New York. She spoke at length about the preschool she attended, whispering that her teacher, Mrs. Cannon, was often cranky. She’d told him about her trips to the city park to play with her friend Regina. She’d explained to him that their neighbor, Mrs. Rosellini, brought them a pot of homemade spaghetti every Sunday and occasionally baby-sat her when Sarah was at work. Finally she’d told him she liked it here in Clay Creek and wanted to stay.
That particular statement had caused a myriad of warring emotions inside him. There was a part of him that would have loved to have them here, loved to have the opportunity to continue to be a part of their lives. But there was another part of him that didn’t want them around. It scared him. He knew eventually he’d make the same kind of mistakes his father had made, and he couldn’t stand it if Jackie came to hate him. Besides, how would she feel if she discovered her father had been nothing but a juvenile delinquent who, without a miracle, would have ended up in jail instead of upholding the law? No, it would never work. She would eventually come to be ashamed of him.
Jackie flew through the kitchen door, bringing an end to his thoughts. “Come tuck me in,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from his chair.
Reese allowed himself to be dragged into the living room, where Sarah had placed a pillow on the sofa and was now unfolding the afghan that had been draped across the back of the couch. “In you go, young lady,” Sarah exclaimed.
“Mr. Sheriff is gonna tuck me in,” Jackie said.
Sarah handed him the afghan as Jackie scampered up on the sofa. Reese placed the blanket around her, then started to back away. Jackie caught his wrist and grinned up at him. “You gotta kiss me good night,” she admonished gently.
Reese felt his chest tighten and he fought down a protest. Ridiculous to allow the thought of kissing a child good-night to bring on the symptoms of panic. He leaned over and touched his lips to her sweet, soft cheek. Before he could pull away, Jackie wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. “Good night, Mr. Sheriff,” she whispered in his ear. “Thanks for being a good baby-sitter.”
For a moment he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat. “Good night, Jackie,” he finally muttered softly, then stood up and went into the kitchen.
A moment later Sarah joined him, sitting down at the table while he pulled the warmed pizza out of the oven. He put the pan, a plate and silverware in front of her. “You want something to drink?”
“Just water,” she answered, noting the tension that radiated from him. He looked almost angry, his motions jerky as he got a glass and filled it with ice, then added the water.
Sarah cut a piece of the pizza and placed it on her plate, wondering if he was angry with her for showing up on his doorstep then promptly falling asleep and leaving him to baby-sit a child he’d never wanted. She waited to speak until he set the glass of water down and joined her at the table.
“Reese, I really apologize,” she began. “I had no idea I was so exhausted. I just meant to lie down for a few minutes. I certainly didn’t inten
d to be asleep for so long and leave Jackie to you.”
“No problem,” he said tersely. “I handled it.”
“But you shouldn’t have had to. I know she can be demanding and it shouldn’t have been left for you to entertain her.”
“I said it was all right,” he repeated forcefully. He got up and went to the refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda, then returned to the table. “Eat,” he commanded, then smiled slightly. “I can promise you there’s nothing wrong with it other than the hot dogs Jackie insisted we cut up and put on top.”
“Hot dogs?” Sarah stared at the pizza. “I thought it was some kind of pepperoni.”
“I asked her what kind of pizza she liked and she told me hot dog pizza, but nobody had ever made it before. So we made hot dog pizza. I did manage to talk her out of the mustard, which she insisted goes with hot dogs.”
Sarah laughed. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right, the two of them sitting here sharing the comical creative efforts of their daughter.
She focused once again on her pizza, eating with small forced bites while her heart ached with a hunger no amount of food would ever sate. She didn’t know what to say to him, was tired of speculating about who was after her and felt as if the subject of Jackie was off-limits unless he brought it up.
The silence that grew between them was not a comfortable one. She could feel his gaze on her while she ate but she didn’t look up. The tension surrounding them grew. Had they nothing to talk about? Had they nothing in common except a powerful physical attraction they’d agreed wasn’t enough, would never be enough?
“Are you happy, Sarah?” His voice was quiet, as if he, too, had been contemplating the same questions.
“Happy?” She looked up at him in surprise. “Most of the time I don’t think about happiness. It takes a lot of work and energy to survive in a place like New York.”
“Do you need money? I could send—”
She stopped him with a glare. How dare he! How dare he offer money to compensate for his resistance to fatherhood. “I don’t need your money,” she snapped.
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