by Glynna Kaye
“Oh, yeah, the dedicated lawman,” a familiar female voice whispered from the doorway. His sister. The original one. Maddie. “Leaving scores of women pining in his wake.”
With a grin, he turned to look at her. Who’d have thought a polished, twenty-five-year-old former assistant at the glamorous Texas Today magazine would be standing here in Western-flavored garb, hair swept into a ponytail? She still had a stylish city flair, but what a difference a few months had made.
“Pining women, huh?” He stood, tucked the Bible under his slinged arm and quietly moved to join her in the hallway. “You know something I don’t know?”
“Hey, I have more than a few girlfriends at Texas Today who still talk about the time you escorted me to that company cookout. Believe me, they’d sell their BMWs for a chance to get their hands on you.”
“Would hate for them to make that kind of sacrifice for a sorry specimen like me.”
“Yeah, right.” Maddie grinned, then motioned to the doorway behind him. “So how’s...Belle today? Seems strange to call her Mom, doesn’t it?”
“Can’t do it myself.”
Maddie rested a hand on his arm and they moved a short distance down the hall, out of Belle’s earshot—if she could hear them at all.
“But she is our mother, Gray. You and Jack might have doubts about your male parentage, but you only have to take one look at her and know we’re hers.”
His spine stiffened. “I don’t have any doubts about my male parentage. I’m not buying into that Fort Worth woman’s tales. She sounds like a troublemaker to me. Dad’s my dad and that’s all there is to it.”
No way would he even speculate he was Joe Earl’s offspring—a guy that on the best of days you wouldn’t brag about being related to. He didn’t care that his siblings had talked to a neighbor where their parents originally lived in Fort Worth. Patty Earl, the deceased Joe Earl’s wife, seemed to know all about them. Even claimed her man had gotten a sixteen-year-old Belle pregnant with twin boys twenty-eight years ago. She said Belle had tricked Brian into marrying her, claiming they were his and all but implying that’s why Belle and Brian divorced shortly after the birth of a second set of twins.
He wasn’t buying it. Brian Wallace was his father. Period. He believed that. He had to believe it. It’s all he had to hang on to now. The one thing that kept the fragile balance of his world upright in the midst of the onslaught of family revelations.
His brother wasn’t quite as sure. He’d never had a father in his life. Didn’t understand why his abandoned him. It probably made more sense that if Brian Wallace wasn’t his biological father, that could account for his being willing to walk away from him, to let part of the family go.
Maddie’s brow crinkled. “So you don’t think—?”
“No.”
She studied him with concern and he realized his expression was likely as fierce as his thoughts.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Gray.”
“You didn’t. I’ve got a lot on my mind after what we all talked about at breakfast.” His siblings’ hopes of finding their dad—who held the answers their mother was incapable of providing—focused more and more on him.
“His being out of touch isn’t unheard of.” Maddie accurately tracked his thoughts. “But why’d Dad have to do a disappearing act in the middle of this family mess? From what you and Jack found out, he may be terribly ill. We’ve got to find him. You know, before...”
His jaw tightened as her words drifted off, but he knew where she’d been headed. They needed to find him—alive and well.
“I’m doing my best.”
She lifted her chin as if challenging her fears and gave him a resolute smile. “Then he’s as good as found.”
He wished he could reassure his sister. Tell her there was nothing to worry about. But the situation wasn’t promising at this point. He’d like to think people didn’t disappear into thin air, but from his cop standpoint he knew it happened. He didn’t want his dad becoming one of those disheartening statistics.
Maddie gazed at him thoughtfully, her voice low. “Between the two of us, how are you feeling about the rest of this? The twin thing, I mean. Finding out that Mom isn’t our birth mom. I know you dragged your feet, found every excuse under the sun not to see...Belle. Or face your brother.”
He scoffed. “Excuses? That’s what you call my job and physical therapy? My trying to find Dad?”
“You could have found a way to get here sooner than last weekend and we both know it. But I didn’t push you because I remember how it felt the first time I encountered Violet.”
So he hadn’t concealed his mixed-up feelings about the situation as well as he thought he had. He’d essentially talked himself into thinking he could only adequately conduct an investigation into his father’s status from Fort Worth. That he didn’t need to beat a path to Grasslands the moment he’d heard from Maddie. Had he thought if he delayed coming out here it might all go away? That he’d wake up one morning and none of this would have happened? It would again be just him, Maddie and Carter. Their dad and the memories of their mother.
His sister squeezed his arm. “At breakfast this morning, you still seemed a little freaked out with Jack sitting across from you wearing your face.”
Gray scowled. “Wearing my face? Not hardly. I see a family resemblance, sure, like we’re brothers. Or cousins. But I don’t get everyone thinking we’re matching bookends.”
Maddie yelped a laugh as he’d hoped she would. Get her mind off the seriousness of their family situation.
“Look at you,” a gravelly male voice intruded. “Finally got yourself a haircut, did you, boy? About time.”
Puzzled, Gray turned toward a stout, forty-something man sauntering down the tiled floor toward them. Dressed in jeans and a tan uniform shirt, a Western felt hat in hand, a smile spread across the balding man’s face. He stopped beside Gray, giving him a thorough inspection.
“Have to admit you clean up good.” He chuckled, smacking the side of his leg with the hat. “But I never figured you to be one to let that fiancée of yours dress you up like a Ken doll.”
“Pardon?” Gray glanced at Maddie, whose eyes danced with mischief.
“George, this isn’t Jack Colby. This is his twin brother, Grayson Wallace. He’s visiting from Fort Worth.”
The man drew back, squinting to give Gray a more thorough scrutiny—from the collar of his navy knit polo shirt, past neatly pressed gray trousers and down to the tips of polished leather shoes.
“I’ll be swallowed by a horned toad. Shoulda known Jack wouldn’t let a pretty little lady pry those Tony Lamas offa his feet.” Shaking his head with a lopsided smile, he thrust out a hand to grasp Grayson’s. “Good to meet you, son. Heard about the goings-on at the Colby Ranch. Two sets of twins who didn’t know the others were alive. Don’t that beat all.”
“Mighty wild,” Gray acknowledged, amazed at how well-informed a small-town grapevine could be. Must be a piece of cake being a lawman around here. No need for undercover assignments—you camped out at the local diner and kept your ears open.
“Gray,” Maddie chimed in as she looked from one man to the other, “this is George Cole, our sheriff. George, Grayson’s a police officer in Fort Worth. He’s building a respectable reputation for himself back there and his superiors have their eye on him for a move up in the ranks.”
He never should have confided in her. Put like that, it sounded like bragging, even if he wasn’t the one doing it.
“You don’t say.” George squinted again, as if sizing up Gray anew. “Don’t suppose, then, that you’ll be movin’ out this way with the rest of your kin like your sister here did?”
“No plans to, sir.”
“Think about it, young’un. Serious like. Opportunity is knockin’ at your door. We’ve got ourselves a
deputy retiring come the end of the year. Lookin’ for a replacement.”
Grayson managed not to laugh. What did they do all day in this sleepy Texas Mayberry? Play checkers and arrest people for overdue library fines? No, he couldn’t see himself as a Barney Fife to this guy’s Andy Taylor.
“Thank you kindly, but home’s Fort Worth.”
George chortled as he turned his hat in his hands. “Don’t let the laid-back trappings of our little cow-town community scare you off, boy. If you’ve a mind to join the family hereabouts, we’d fit you right in. Could get that city-slicker veneer washed offa you before you can say ‘Alamo.’ What do you think, Maddie?”
She turned appraising eyes on her older brother. “I’d love for Gray to move out here. He’d look mighty handsome in boots and a Stetson.”
“See, son? Family ties trump city life and a hotshot career any day.”
“It’s tempting, but I have commitments elsewhere.”
George squinted and gave him a knowing nod. “Shoulda figured as much. Strapping young man like you must have a special lady.”
Gray’s memory flashed to Elise Lopez and at once Maddie slipped to his side and hooked her arm through his, her eyes narrowing.
“A special lady, is it, big bro?” Her tone echoed with mock accusation. “I think we need to have ourselves a private chat.”
“Sorry for blowing the whistle on you and running, son.” The sheriff’s eyes twinkled as he set his hat on his shiny pate and turned away. “But I have to make my rounds. Stopped in to check on my granny. She broke her leg chasing a calf out of the kitchen yesterday.”
Calf? Or had the man said cat? Baffled, Gray fixed his gaze on the lawman striding away, but he sensed Maddie’s eyes boring into him.
“So, Gray, let’s hear it. All of it.”
He turned to her. “All of what?”
“About that special lady.”
He adjusted the sling and secured the Bible under his arm. He didn’t want to explain Elise Lopez. What could he say? That she was one of the most intriguing women he’d met in a good long while—and she wouldn’t give him the time of day? “Sorry to disappoint you, Mad, but there’s been no lady in my life since Jenna showed me the door. The commitment I was referring to is my career.”
“When George made that little lady assumption, you got one of those deer-in-the-headlights looks in your eyes. The kind you had as a kid when you were hiding something and Dad called your bluff.”
“Contrary to your belief, the world has more than its fair share of women who aren’t keen on getting involved with a cop.”
“Jenna didn’t have the sense of a goose.”
Or maybe she was one wise woman?
Regardless, he suspected Elise Lopez had plenty of common sense on her side—and she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Despite the fact that for some inexplicable reason he’d left his business card with her, he wasn’t accustomed to pursuing women who didn’t show obvious interest.
Maybe it was his pride, but he didn’t intend to start now.
Chapter Four
“Mom!” Cory yelled from the living room Sunday evening. “It’s Officer Wallace. And look what he brought me.”
Cory’s cop was back?
A knot twisted in Elise’s stomach as she hurried from the bedroom, wishing she had time to slip bare feet into shoes and change out of her sweat suit. As she approached the door open to the hallway, Cory’s grin widened under the brim of a Western straw hat—and beyond him she glimpsed Grayson Wallace standing respectfully off to one side, head bowed as if analyzing the worn carpet.
“Isn’t this awesome? Wait until I show Kyle. Can I, Mom?”
“It’s a school night.”
“I know, but please?” His eyes begged. “I’ll hurry.”
While it wasn’t long before bedtime, Kyle was Billie Jean’s seventh-grader in the apartment below—and she’d rather not talk to Officer Wallace in Cory’s presence. Apparently the lawman hadn’t gotten the message that only her son welcomed police officers with open arms. “Okay. But I expect you back here in ten minutes.”
“Yee haw!” Cory dashed out the door, high-fiving the cop as he went by. “This is way cool. I can be a sheriff. Or a Texas Ranger.”
Turning toward Cory’s cop, she caught his look of dismay. Had he actually believed the hat would distract her son from all things police related?
She stepped into the hallway, pulling the door partially closed behind her. She’d planned to straighten the apartment once Cory had gone to sleep, but Mr. Wallace didn’t need a glimpse of her chaotic, real-life world. “Nice try with the hat, but you didn’t need to do that.”
He smiled uncertainly, as if not sure of the reception his unannounced call would elicit. “I know I didn’t. But I figured it might get his mind off cops and onto cowboys. From the sound of that departing comment, though, I struck out.”
Was that the true reason he’d stopped by? Or did he have something else on his mind? “I’m not sure aspiring to a career in rodeo would be much safer than law enforcement.”
“But what are the chances he’ll make it to bull and bronc riding?” His eyes twinkled. “A lot of the pros started out on goats and calves before they were out of diapers. I don’t see a whole lot of opportunity for that around here.”
“True. But I’m sorry after all your effort he’s not cooperating. Thanks for going out of your way to try.”
“Easy enough to do. I was in the western part of the state over the weekend—I have family out that way—and saw the hat in a truck stop. I thought to myself, ‘Self, you know a boy who would look mighty fine in a hat like that.’ ”
His grin urged her heart into a full gallop.
“Western Texas? You’re not from Fort Worth?”
“Actually I am, but I recently discovered a branch of the family I previously didn’t know existed. Cattle ranchers.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “So you’re taking up riding and roping and making yourself at home with shirttail kin?”
He tilted his head and squinted one eye. “A tad closer than shirttail. A twin brother and a second little sister.”
She stared. “You have a twin that you didn’t know about?”
“Long story.” He grimaced as if wishing he hadn’t mentioned it, then a purposeful gleam sparked in his eyes. “But I didn’t stop by to regale you with the particulars of my family tree or just to drop off the hat.”
Uh-oh. Here it comes.
Why couldn’t men leave her in peace? She wasn’t in the market for another man. And certainly not this one. Yes, even with the sturdy sling supporting his arm, he looked like any woman’s dream standing there fit and trim in pressed khaki trousers, his wide shoulders filling out a burgundy golf shirt. But she was all too aware how innocent dreams revolving around a cop could morph into nightmares.
“Mr. Wallace—”
“Grayson.” Determination etched his features. “On Friday Cory’s teacher asked if I’d consider talking to you about mentoring Cory. I’ve considered it, and I’m here to discuss it.”
He was, was he? She folded her arms. Out of the blue this stranger wanted to spend time with her son? Become his role model? Was he out of his mind? Does he think I’m out of mine? Since Duke’s passing, she’d had men come up with doozies of excuses to worm their way into her life, but this got top honors for originality.
“You know,” the officer prodded when she didn’t immediately respond, “I could give him some man time.”
With a cop? What was Cory’s teacher thinking? That could exacerbate her son’s fixation.
“I’m sorry, but—”
He raised a hand to halt her. “I didn’t say anything on Friday, but since then I’ve had time to think about it. So if you feel it would be beneficial
in any way, if it might help Cory settle down and—”
“Settle down? Exactly what did Miss Gilbert tell you about my son?” She’d have a talk with her tomorrow.
His forehead creased. “Don’t get riled up at Cory’s teacher. She said pretty much what you told me yourself. You know, that he’s preoccupied with policemen. She thinks he’s overly concerned about the man who killed his father and is aggressively acting out on his feelings.”
“That term is considerably stronger than the situation warrants.”
“Likely so. Nevertheless, Miss Gilbert is worried about him and noticed how Cory and I hit it off that day.”
“She means well, but doesn’t fully understand the situation.” Did Miss Gilbert think so little of her parenting abilities that she felt a need to push Cory off on a man she didn’t even know? The implication stung. Elise forced a smile. “Thank you for stopping by, but teaming my son with a police officer—after the loss of his father in the line of duty—isn’t a good idea.”
“I understand, but—”
“I appreciate your considerate offer, but it’s not in Cory’s best interests.”
From out of nowhere, her son galloped down the hallway to slip by her and into the apartment. She stepped back inside, as well.
“Have a good evening, Officer Wallace.”
With a quick glance in his direction, she closed the door.
* * *
Monday after work as Gray grilled supper on the enclosed patio outside his ground-floor condo, the rejection of the night before still stung.
The sole consolation was how pretty Elise had looked in her velour sweats as she delivered the dismissal, dainty pink-painted toenails peeping below the soft, shapely pants. Her hair, loose from its customary bun, cascaded down her back. She smelled good, too. Like roses in his mom’s garden back in Appleton.
He turned the steak over, its juices sizzling in the low flame as he savored the memory of Ms. Lopez attired for a relaxing Sunday evening at home, bare feet and all. Was it his fault he could almost envision her cuddled up beside him on the sofa, soft and warm, watching Sunday Night Football?