by Jodi Thomas
He pulled on his underwear, ending her peep show.
“Katherine deserves the credit for saving you. It was funny . . . all the way to the hospital, Saralynn slept and Tyler didn’t say a word until we were checking in at the desk. At that point, he asked me what the hazel-eyed lady’s name was. When I said Katherine, he looked so sad, like something had just died.”
“Did he know her?” Hank pulled on a pair of clean jeans and pushed Alex out of the way so he could grab a shirt from a drawer.
She followed. “I asked him that, and he said no.”
That was it, they’d both run out of anything to say. He stood holding his shirt. She stood fighting back tears, her arms crossed as if holding the world at bay.
He swore and tossed his shirt on the bed. “Come here,” he ordered.
“Why? So you can hit me? So you can tell me how much you hate me?”
“Come over here.” Hank felt like yelling, but he kept his voice low. “I’ve been trying to get close to you for years, but this time, Alexandra, you’re going to have to make a move in my direction.”
She took a step, and he saw a touch of fear blended with uncertainty in her eyes. She’d always drawn off his strength, even when they wouldn’t talk about it. Now, he needed to draw off her.
Like he knew she would, she stood so close to him he could feel her breathe. The nearness of her made all the tension in his body slip away. When had it happened? When had he stopped being her rock and she had become his?
He slowly raised his hands and moved them along her arms, tightly folded across her chest. He took her wrists in his hands and pulled them until she gave way and her arms fell to her sides.
Then he wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him the way he’d always wanted to hold her.
She fought for a moment, stiffened as if to rebel, but she’d come to him. She’d crossed the room and he wasn’t going to let her push away this time.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you and you know it.” He kissed her hair. “Relax, baby.”
She slowly melted against him, raising her arms to rest them on his shoulders. When she swayed against him, he released his hold and moved his hands to cup her face, forcing her to look at him, hating the tears he saw in her blue eyes.
“Let’s get one thing straight right now, McAllen,” he started, and felt her try to tug away. He didn’t let go. This time he wasn’t letting go.
“I don’t give a damn what Davis said. I know you would never hurt your brother intentionally.” He kissed her forehead. “And you should know that I’d know that.”
He kissed her full on the mouth, hard and completely like he’d wanted to for years. He felt passion shatter in his arms and flood over them both.
When he broke the kiss, she whispered, “It was my fault . . . I should have . . .”
He kissed her until she gave up trying to talk, then whispered in her ear while she caught her breath. “I don’t want to talk, baby. I just want to be with you.”
She wrapped her arms around him so tight he could barely breathe as he lifted her up and walked toward the bed. “We’ve only got a little while. I don’t need sleep or food. I just need to hold you.”
And then his wild and strong Alex did something he’d never seen her do, not even when she was a child.
She cried and he held her tight.
Chapter 47
TYLER WRIGHT WAITED IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM FOR Willamina to bring him some clothes. He refused to walk out of the hospital looking like he’d been in a bar fight with a mud monster.
He also refused to stand up, knowing full well that the hospital gown he had on did not meet in the back. The nurse had come in twice to tell him that he could go, but he’d wait for his clothes.
He tried to piece together everything that had happened this morning from the time he escaped out of the sheriff’s office. It all seemed like one of those late-night movies people watch but can never remember the name of at dawn. He’d never done anything wild in his life . . . until this morning. His rap sheet was probably a full page by now. Breaking and entering. Speeding. Resisting arrest.
And in the mix of everything, he’d seen a woman with hazel eyes. Alex said her name was Katherine, but Tyler decided he’d misunderstood. Maybe at that low point in his life he just wanted his Katherine to be there. A woman he talked with on the Internet would not simply appear in his world at a low point. His Kate couldn’t be that Katherine.
The nurse brought him in a hanging clothes bag and announced that the woman who delivered them said she didn’t have time to wait, this was her shopping day. Tyler wasn’t surprised. He’d bought Willamina the little Saturn five years ago and she’d yet to let him ride in it.
Tyler called one of the men who worked for him to come over and pick him up, then hurried to the bathroom to dress.
A few minutes later when he walked out to the black Cadillac, he looked and felt almost back to normal, even though he hadn’t had a proper bath and a huge Band-Aid covered his forehead.
He stopped off for two double-meat cheeseburgers and fries before going home and straight to his study. He pulled up his e-mails. None from Katherine.
He typed a hello to her and ate one of the burgers while he waited. He checked again. No answer. He ate the other burger and all the fries and tried one more time.
When she didn’t respond, he climbed the stairs to his room, locked the door, turned off the phone, and went to bed.
Eight hours later, after he’d taken a bath and redressed, he came back downstairs. His supper was cold, but waiting for him. Every lock was locked. Every light out.
Tyler discovered something. The world hadn’t fallen apart when he took himself off call for a day. It had functioned just fine without him. Even the flower van had looked like it had been brought back from Hank’s ranch, washed, and put back in place at the back door.
After checking his e-mail and finding nothing, Tyler did something he’d never done at night. He went for a walk.
Chapter 48
HANK LEFT ALEXANDRA ASLEEP ON HIS BED AS HE SLIPPED from his room and went back to the fire. An hour hadn’t been long enough to hold her, but it was a start.
He could feel change in the air even before he reached the fire trucks. The wind was still. The air not quite so dry and smoky. It was over, he thought. Finally, it was over.
Most of the firemen were still working, but a few were standing back, watching the monster die.
Hank stepped up beside the major. “You were right.”
“I usually am, about work anyway.” She smiled. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Are you ready to go back to work?”
“Yes.” He pulled on his gloves and winked at her. “The hour’s rest did wonders.”
She smiled as if she understood. “I hoped it might. Now you’re back, I’m moving to the sheriff’s office. I’ve decided to camp there until this is over.” She looked like she felt sorry for him. “This isn’t over. You know that, don’t you, Hank? Our troublesome arsonist will strike again. We’ve got to be ready. Twenty years in this business has taught me a few things. One is, when he hits again it will be harder and faster. My guess is he’s getting frustrated, and that will make him careless. Likely he’s taking this personal. We killed his plan and now he’s out for revenge.”
Hank wanted to say he didn’t know if his team could take a stronger hit, but he’d worry about that when the time came. She’d been right about everything so far. He knew she was right about this, too. “Revenge on who?”
“Who knows. You, the sheriff, the town. We stopped his beautiful burn and he’s probably mad. He’ll use his weapon of choice to hit back. Our job now is to guess where, and maybe when, if we can.”
“I’ll meet you at the office as soon as I know this fire is out.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Hank turned back to the battleground. Black earth seemed to be everywhere. Fire still sparked in patches, but teams were moving across the lan
d, putting them out one by one. Willie Davis was like a pup who’d been kept penned during the hunt and now could run free. He led the charge across the hot spots, yelling and running circles around the tired men.
Hank worked with them for an hour, then returned to the fire truck. “How’s the fire on the north rim?”
Bob poked his head around the door. “They’ve got it contained, but it burned a few thousand acres of beautiful natural grasslands.”
Hank shook his head. “You have to be born in Texas to see miles of nothing but grass as beautiful.”
“Good news is when we get rain, it’ll grow back.”
“When,” Hank echoed. “It’s been so long since this county has seen rain, we’ll probably all go outside and just stand in it once it comes. I think the rubber on my windshield wipers has fossilized.”
Bob laughed. “My Stella says it’s coming, she can feel it. She says it’s a few days off, but it’s coming.”
Hank leaned against the truck, needing to talk to someone. “When this fire is over, we need to get the trucks serviced and ready to roll as fast as possible.”
“I figured that,” Bob said. “The last few fires have looked set. I’d be willing to bet a dollar that when we climb down in the canyon we’ll find this one was, too. I don’t know much about firebugs, but I watch a lot of shows and it seems to me they’re kind of like serial killers; they keep going until they’re caught.”
Nodding agreement, Hank turned south and stared at the orchard a few feet beyond his fence line. He could barely make out the old man standing in the shade of the trees, watching.
Hank raised his hand in greeting. Jeremiah didn’t return the wave. Hank didn’t know whether Jeremiah didn’t see him or still held a grudge against all Mathesons. Grinning, he thought of how his aunt still called the old man Dimples when she mentioned him.
As Hank walked back to help with the cleanup, he saw the circle around Harmony in his mind’s eye. It was close to complete. The only spot left between here and the first fire would be either old Truman’s place or a run-down trailer park built in the cottonwoods along a dried-up creek bed. The aluminum homes were scattered to within sight of town. If fire started in the brush and trees around the creek bed, it would move fast, burning homes and wood until it hit town.
On a hot day, in hot clothes, Hank felt the chill. If the arsonist wanted to make a big fire, maybe one that would do more damage than the canyon burn, he’d hit Truman’s place next. Truman’s people had never been much for ranching or farming, but they’d planted trees. Evergreens from the road to within a hundred yards of the house, apple trees along the fence line, pine and oak in groupings around barns and storage buildings. And hundred-year-old elms around the house. Hank had no idea what all Jeremiah stored out on his land, but he surrounded it with trees. A big burn there could take the fire right into town in one direction and take out the rest of Hank’s grass in the other direction.
It the arsonist hit Truman’s place, it could turn into a nightmare.
The sky was midnight blue and free of smoke by the time he made it to the sheriff’s office.
At first, it seemed everything was back to normal. Dallas Logan stood in front of the counter complaining about her streetlight. The smell of burned coffee drifted from the break room. Andy manned the calls and looked like he might have gotten a few hours’ sleep.
Then Hank saw the changes. Major Cummings had put two desks together at a right angle in a corner and appeared to be working on two computer systems at once. A highway patrolman sat in Irene’s office, looking like he was fresh out of school. Trooper Davis’s replacement, probably.
Hank thought for the hundredth time how hard it must be for Alex to deal with these men who wore the same uniform as her brother, but she’d done it if for no other reason than it was part of her job. He wondered if she had any idea how proud Warren would be of her.
A few reporters were still hanging around, waiting for the wrap-up story. It would be on the news at ten, which he planned to miss.
Alex crossed the room to greet him. When he met her eyes, he saw something he’d never seen before: a peace in her stare. No anger or worry or frustration, only peace. She was in the middle of the worst crisis to hit Harmony on her watch, but inside she’d changed. Without Davis, Hank might never have known the guilt she carried. If she’d said something about it, he could have told her three years ago that no one, including Warren, would have ever blamed her.
“How long did you sleep?” he asked as they walked toward the coffeepot in the break room. His hand brushed over hers when they reached for cups. The need to touch her was an ache he feared he’d never cure.
“Too long.” She smiled. “Your bed’s comfortable to sleep on.”
“So am I.”
She tilted her cup up to hide her smile. “I might test that theory one day, but right now we have a major staring at us.”
He glanced around. Sure enough, Katherine Cummings was waiting at Alex’s door with a load of printouts.
As they moved toward her, Andy Daily left the dispatcher desk and hurried across the room, his pockets jingling with change. “Doesn’t it feel good to have it all over, Chief?”
“Yeah,” Hank answered, slowing down to talk to Andy.
“That was really exciting.” Andy almost danced with energy. “I wish I could have been out fighting the fire more, but I was needed in here. I heard we got coverage of the fire all the way down to the Dallas stations. I thought about driving down one night just to buy a paper or two with Harmony Fires on the cover. The fire really put us on the map.”
Andy drove the oldest Toyota pickup Hank had ever seen. He was surprised the piece of junk, which usually had one or two of Andy’s broken washers or dryers rattling about in it, could make it ten miles out of town. He’d give it no chance of making the trip to Dallas.
Hank motioned for Alex and the major to go on in. “Thanks for all your help, Andy. We couldn’t have done it without you.” In truth, Andy was far better at talking than working, now being an example, but Hank figured the guy needed a pat on the back. Volunteers ask for nothing. A thank-you seemed little reward.
“I never saw anything like that fire.” Andy shook as if with real fear. “It was like doomsday riding in on a cloud of black smoke and we were no more than toothpicks standing against the wind.”
“You’re not going to become a poet on me, Andy, are you?”
“No.” He seemed to realize he might have gotten carried away a little. “I better get back to work. I got another hour before my shift is over.”
Hank raised his cup in salute and watched the lonely man take his chair at the dispatcher desk. Andy was the kind of guy everyone knew, but few would call him a friend. The kind who joined the campus cleanup team in college, not to help but so he’d have an almost-gang of friends to hang out with.
Hank stepped in Alex’s office and noticed that the sheriff and the major already had their heads together, talking. It had been his experience that when two women do such a thing, it’s never good for the only man in the room.
Before they could outline all their plans to keep watch, Hank’s phone rang. He saw his sister Liz’s number and wondered if it was too late to tell Tyler to keep the phone.
“Excuse me,” he said as he stepped out and flipped his cell on.
“Hank,” Liz said, without waiting to hear him say hello.
“Mother and Claire are both mad at me. It wasn’t my fault Saralynn got left behind. My car was already full; what was I supposed to do, unpack? There was plenty of room with Mom and the aunts. I had no idea they were planning to leave so early, and Claire is her mother, she should have put her in a car before she drove off with the stupid paintings.”
“Liz.” Hank cut her off. “I’m mad at you, too. In fact I’m furious. So add me to your don’t-call list.” He hung up, remembering how it had felt to answer the radio at the fire site and hear his mother say they couldn’t find Saralynn.
; He wasn’t surprised when Liz hit redial immediately. Hank let it ring. Liz was the youngest. When they’d been growing up, they’d always stopped when she needed to, eaten where she would eat the food, gone on vacation where she wanted to go. She’d been running the family since she’d been born, with no thought of anyone but herself. It was no wonder her husband divorced her. Hank wanted to divorce her and he was blood.
He wondered if the family could get together and all vote her off the ranch.
“Stop plotting the murder of your sister and get back in here.” Alex’s voice and hand pulled him through the office door.
“You overheard.”
“Liz didn’t mean to leave Saralynn. It was an accident. She just wasn’t thinking.”
Hank shook his head. “She doesn’t want to work, or go to school, or help out around the house, or do anything. I think she’s campaigning to be the family pet. She wants us to do everything for her, including taking her to get trimmed and bathed for ticks. I’ve had enough. I’m thinking of calling that bum of a husband she left and demanding he take her back.”
“For a man who lives with so many women, you don’t understand much. She’s just looking for a hero to save her. Her husband must have refused to do that.”
“Well, we’d better look in lockup for her next match, because any free man will run as soon as he talks to Liz for ten minutes.”
“You’ll see. One of these days she’ll find a man who has problems bigger than what she thinks hers are. He’ll save her by having her worry more about him than herself.”
“Maybe.” Hank shook his head. “But he’d have to be on trial for murder, find out he had cancer and a brain tumor the same day he was struck by lightning, and bankrupted to top her daily list of problems.”
Alex laughed and tugged him back to the round table. They began going over every theory they could reason out about what might happen next. Two hours later, Hank walked across the street to the fire station and crashed.