by Rita Herron
Another winter storm threatened, so he hurried to dig a deep hole, placed the lion inside and covered it with dirt. To mark and protect the grave, he gathered several large stones and placed them over the mound.
When he finished, he studied the gray mottled sky, anxious about the danger following Elsie. Agitation tightening his muscles, he strode back to the house, hoping Elsie had surfaced, but she remained locked away in that bedroom. Still angry, he went and boarded up the secret passage.
Satisfied, he punched in Rex’s number to update him, his mind warring with what to tell his brother. He still had nothing definitive on the person threatening Elsie. Nothing that he could use to end the case and convince her to return to Tin City.
He had to work harder, dig deeper into the past. Push Elsie.
Rex’s voice echoed over the line. “Deke, good to hear from you.”
“I’m not sure you’ll say that after we talk.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Elsie won’t budge. Something bad happened in that orphanage a few years ago, Rex, Something that traumatized her. She doesn’t trust anyone, especially me.”
“You or men in general?”
“I can’t be sure. The minute I start to get close to her, and I think she’ll talk, she runs like a scared kitten.”
“Damn. I can’t tell Deanna that. It will crush her.”
“I know.” Deke filled him in on the last twenty-four hours, then focused on the details of the past he’d learned from Elsie. “Apparently, old man Hodges abused the kids. One night, Elsie caught him with a girl named Torrie and helped her escape. She claims she left her at a church, then, well, hell, she didn’t say any more. But I think she set the fire that killed Hodges.”
“Geez. Have the police been looking for her?”
“The report listed the fire as accidental.” Deke paused. “It gets worse, Rex. Today someone pushed Elsie into the street, and a truck nearly ran her over.”
Rex muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Is she all right?”
“Yeah, but she was shaken.” Hell, so was he, more than he wanted to admit. But he couldn’t let himself go soft. Then he’d be no good at his job. “The sheriff questioned her afterward, and warned her to leave town.”
“Did he mention the fire?”
“No, and that struck me as odd. Even some of the news clippings I read insinuated that arson was involved. I can’t figure out why they didn’t try to find the person who set the fire. If it was Elsie, why wouldn’t he have mentioned it today?”
“Maybe he knew what was going on at the orphanage,” Rex suggested.
Deke’s blood ran cold. That was a distinct possibility, and could be the reason he didn’t want Elsie around. And if the sheriff had known, others might have, too.
But if they were aware of the abuse, why didn’t someone help those poor children? What kind of cruel and inhuman people lived in Wildcat?
Rex cleared his throat. “If Hodges was abusing the girls, Deke, Elsie could have pleaded self-defense,” Rex said. “She was only a child.”
He sensed Elsie had never known the joys of childhood, or what it was like to have someone take care of her and protect her.
Damn it. He shouldn’t care. The last time he had, a woman had used him. He’d tried to protect her kid, too, then the woman had turned on him.
“I know that, and so do you,” Deke said in a gruff voice. “But she was a terrified girl. I don’t know for sure if Hodges abused her, but I suspect he did. And if the sheriff knew and kept silent, how could she go to him?”
“That’s true.” Rex cursed again, and Deke’s pulse quickened. Elsie must have felt utterly alone and abandoned. His own childhood pain suddenly didn’t seem as harsh—after all, he and his brothers had had each other, and a mother who loved them.
“I don’t understand why she won’t return to Falcon Ridge with you,” Rex said. “If she was abused in that orphanage, why stay there?”
Deke ran a hand through his hair. “After she left Torrie at a church, she went back to save the other girls, but the police were already there. She plans to build the teen center to make amends, then she’ll face Deanna.”
“Blow the lid on them, Deke, then bring her home. Her mama will be waiting.”
Emotions clogged Deke’s throat. Yes, Deanna would. Just as his mother had waited for his father.
As he hung up, his chest heaved. Elsie’s haunted dark brown eyes taunted him. She thought he would judge her for her past. But there was nothing she could tell him to make him look down upon her.
Not when her suffering ate at his soul.
Damn it, he was losing control. He would not get
After all, what kind of promises could he make? A few hours? A week. A month maybe? What could he say? He was attracted to her? He wanted her physically?
Hell, he did want Elsie. Physically his body burned for her, his arms craved her, his mouth longed to touch hers. And he wanted to be inside her, giving her pleasure.
But could he offer more than that?
He scrubbed his hand over his beard stubble, a reminder of the hellion he’d been as a teen, the hard-edged private investigator and rough falconer he had become.
Commitment to anything besides the falcons and his job had never been an issue. But he could not walk away from Elsie until he convinced her she was a beautiful, desirable woman. That she was worthy of love regardless of the demons chasing her.
He clutched the stair rail with sweaty hands, the memory of the dead animal a reminder of the violence and evil here. No, he wouldn’t leave Elsie or any woman to face this kind of monster.
ELSIE STROKED THE EDGE of the faded yellow blanket, memories bombarding her. The night her father had taken her from Tin City, she’d clung to the childhood keepsake. It had been the only thing familiar to her in a world that had suddenly been turned upside down. Besides, her mother had made it for her. Every time she ran her fingers over her name embroidered in the fine thread, she imagined her mother’s fingers sewing the tiny stitches, humming in that soft voice that had always soothed Elsie’s bad dreams.
Her father had ridiculed her about holding on to the security blanket. She had tried to let it go, but at night, she’d dig it out from the closet and hug it while she slept. And when he’d taken her to Wildcat Manor, she’d hidden it inside her pillowcase.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. During her pregnancy, she’d vowed to give it to her own baby. But she had failed her baby and she had died at birth. The horror still swept over her in unexpected waves every time she saw an infant in a stroller or its mother’s arms.
If she hadn’t been a bad girl, if she hadn’t been so stupid to trust that the people at the orphanage would help her, her daughter might have survived.
Then she would have a ten-year-old little girl now. Just like Donna and Eleanor.
Whoever left the blanket on the bed had known her dark, ugly secrets.
She made mental notes of all the people with knowledge of her pregnancy—her father, Hattie Mae, Mr. Hodges, the doctor in town who’d provided the girls’ health care and the lawyer who’d arranged the adoptions. Of course she hadn’t needed his legal services in the end, but they had forced her to meet with him to discuss her options. All the young girls had been encouraged to give up their babies. Elsie had insisted that she wanted to keep her child, that her baby needed her. And truthfully, she had needed it.
The dark reddish-brown stain on the blanket practically pulsed with life, reminding her of death and the blood she’d lost in childbirth. Who had kept her blanket all these years?
Hattie Mae? If so, who had gotten it after her death? And who had placed it at the foot of her bed
Doctor Mires or Mr. Thompson? They both had reasons not to want the truth about Wildcat Manor revealed. Would they hurt her to force her into silence?
She had to look into their eyes and confront them.
Deke’s expertise would help. But then she would have to explain everything�
��.
No, she couldn’t do that. She’d confront the two men on her own tomorrow, and find out exactly what they knew. Then she’d make it clear that she had no intention of being scared away.
And if they started tossing around warnings—she’d toss one right back. If she had to, she’d swallow her pride, go public about Hodges, about the abuse and the adoptions….
DEKE TOOK A QUICK SHOWER to wash the scent of blood and death off him, then checked on Elsie. The door remained closed, and he almost knocked, but instinct forced him to back away. He wanted Elsie to trust him enough to come to him on her own.
Rain splattered the windows and wind thrashed hail against the stone house, the haze of fog and more dark clouds evident through the window as he descended the steps.
Apparently, the power had been restored while Elsie was in town. She’d bought a large piece of fish, along with a box of rice, so he quickly marinated the fish, prepared a salad out of the veggies, cooked the rice, then seared the salmon in a pan. Living on his own, he had learned a few culinary skills, most of which involved grilling, but the manor didn’t have the luxury of a grill. A large overgrown garden that had perhaps held herbs or flowers at one time surrounded a large stone patio off the French doors. The garden had possibilities for revival, but now the thick tangle of vines and overgrown brush looked sinister, as if it might provide a hiding place for someone watching the manor. He bolted the door, vowing silently to check it out later.
Satisfied with the meal, he walked up the stairs and knocked on Elsie’s door. “Elsie, I made dinner. Will you please come down and eat?”
Something rustled inside, then Elsie’s low voice reverberated through the doorway. “Go away, Deke. I need to be alone.”
He ground his teeth. “I’m not leaving, not after what happened today in town, and especially not after that warning when you got home.” God, she had to be rational. “Please, come out. You have to be hungry.”
Slowly the door opened. Her eyes looked red rimmed as if she’d been crying, but he refrained from comment.
“You don’t need to stay now, Deke. I’m safe. I’ll lock the house and be all right.”
“I told you I’m not leaving.” He reached for her hand, but she stiffened, and he took a step back from the door, not conceding, but offering her breathing space.
“It’s just dinner, Elsie,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
Her wary look spoke volumes, but she bit her lip and stepped into the hallway. When they entered the kitchen, surprise flickered across her face at the sight of the fire he’d built, and thentable. A second later, distrust swam in her eyes as she turned to face him.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She swallowed, drawing his attention to the fine column of her neck, to the tender skin he suddenly wanted to kiss.
“Just dinner?”
Pain darkened her expression. He glanced at the wine and candlelight and realized it painted a seductive picture. “Just dinner.” He held up his hands in a peace gesture. “I promise. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”
She clenched the napkin in a shaky hand, but sat down at the table. “I’m sorry, Deke. But no man has ever cooked for me. I…can’t seem to figure out why you’re so persistent.”
“I told you this afternoon. Deanna is a friend of the family. And you can be, too, if you’ll just trust me.”
She clamped her teeth over her lip, but remained silent, her other hand reaching out to grab her glass and sip her water.
He gestured toward the wine. “Would you like a glass? I thought it might relax you.”
She nodded. “We could probably both use one.”
“You’re right. It’s been a tough day.” He uncorked the bottle, then poured them both a glass and joined her at the table. His leg brushed hers as he tried to fit his long limbs into the chair. Relief flooded him when she didn’t pull away.
The conversation lagged, tension humming between them as she nibbled at her food. He devoured his, trying to forget the case. But forgetting the case meant his mind was free to wonder about other things. Like how the skin at the nape of her neck would taste. How her lips would feel against his a second time. How she might respond to his touch. How her naked body would feel tucked against his own.
Her gaze met his and heat spiraled between them. He tugged his shirt collar open slightly, wishing he hadn’t built the fire or that he’d left the damn door open. She studied him for a long moment, pain etched on her face.
“I promise you, Elsie, I won’t hurt you.”
“I almost believe you,” she said softly.
His heart sputtered. He gently reached out and laid his hand over her trembling one. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve known, but I would never do anything you didn’t want me to.”
A moment of naked longing registered in her eyes, robbing his breath. She wanted him to kiss her.
Desire flooded her eyes, and she parted her lips slightly, the rosy hue drawing his gaze to her mouth. Dear God…what should he do? He’d vowed to go slowly, yet here she was practically offering.
Instead, he drank his wine greedily, trying to fill his hunger another way. He couldn’t afford to allow himself to pursue this…need pulsing between him and Elsie. That would be taking advantage of Elsie.
But she twined her slender fingers around the stem of the glass and took a sip of the merlot, her gaze still fixed on his, then dropping to his mouth.
His resistance teetered. Her close call with death today triggered a longing that he’d never expected to feel. Images of her winding her fingers around his neck, then tracing them over his bare chest and lower to stroke his belly, then his aching sex, taunted him.
He couldn’t pursue it, though, and frighten her off.
“Thank you, Deke. The dinner was wonderful.”
He dotted his napkin across his sweating forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Again, tension sizzled in the air between them. Eyes locked. She licked her lips.
“Are you only being nice to me because you think you owe my mother?” she asked softly.
Her blunt comment took him off guard. “I…at first, that was the reason.”
“And now?”
Wariness darkened her eyes, but desire also flickered in the depths. He didn’t quite know how to answer.
“Now…” He hesitated, hating the churning in his stomach. “Now I want to protect you.”
Disappointment tightened her mouth. “Because you think I’m helpless?” Anger tinged her voice. “Well, I’m not, Deke. I know how to fight, how to take care of myself, how to shoot that gun. And I won’t hesitate to do it.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to face everything alone all the time, Elsie.”
Emotions clouded her eyes. “I don’t know any other way.”
He twined her fingers in his own, stroking her palm with his other hand as he pulled her hand into his lap. “Let me show you.”
Her gaze swung to his, and he read the questions, the uncertainty. She wanted to believe him, but she had no family, no one to relate to. No one who would give their life for her as he and his brothers would for their family.
No wonder she was so wary and distrustful.
The touch of her skin sent fire through him, and he traced his fingers over her hand, allowing her time to learn his touch. Hopefully, one day she wouldn’t turn away or resist him if he asked for more.
“I wish I could change the past for you,” he said in a low voice. “But I won’t desert you like everyone else did.” His heart pounded. “Deanna didn’t abandon you of her own free will, either, just as my father didn’t me.”
He heard his own words, and some of the bitterness and anger he’d held on to for years faded away. It was time to let it go. Move on. Enjoy the future with his family. He could only do that through forgiveness and acceptance.
Just as Elsie would have to do one day.
“I know,” Elsie wh
ispered. “I do want to see her, Deke. So badly. You can’t even begin to imagine.”
She lowered her head, but he tipped her face up with his thumb. “Tell me, Elsie, maybe I can help.”
“When I do softly, “I want to be whole. I want her to be proud of me.”
God, he wanted to make love to her. “She will be proud of you no matter what you do, or what happened in the past.”
Her chin trembled. “I…wish I could believe that.”
“Then let’s leave here. I’ll prove it to you, and so will your mother.”
Pain tightened her face into a haunted expression. “Don’t you see? I can’t move on without closing the door to my past. And I have to rectify the wrong that was done here.”
He spoke without even thinking, “Did you ever think that just by shutting down the orphanage, you helped? That the girls were better off because you were brave enough to run?” His voice rose in conviction. “Maybe they were sent back to their families or to a better place with caring people. At least they were free of Hodges and this damned town.”
“But I can’t know that.”
He knew all about guilt. The power it had to trap you. If she wanted this center to help others, how could he deny her?
He brushed her cheek with the pad of this thumb. “Then we’ll find out together.”
Elsie’s shocked look brought him to a standing position. Hope lit her eyes, making her even more beautiful. He wanted to erase the anguish in her eyes.
He circled in front of the table and bent to cradle her face in his hands. The desire inside him roared her name, and he answered by pressing his lips to hers. First gently. When she met his lips with a soft purr, he deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue across her lips repeatedly, gently at first, then as his need grew, more forcefully until she opened her mouth and let him inside. He savored her sweet taste, the silent moment of trust. He tunneled his hands into her hair, angling his head to the side as he lowered his mouth to nip at her neck. “You are so beautiful, Elsie. So sweet and caring.”