by Gina Wilkins
“Can’t we just go home?” Zach asked miserably, noticing Sam watching them. “Everybody’s looking at us. I’ll try to clean the chair when we get home.”
“I don’t give a damn who’s looking at us,” Delbert snarled, turning on the boy, his hand poised for a back-handed slap. “You ain’t running things around here, you little—”
Sam caught the guy’s swinging hand in midair. “You might want to reconsider that move,” he advised coldly, too furious to care that he was hardly a physical match for this man who had a couple of inches of height and maybe fifty pounds of weight advantage.
Sam would be damned if he was going to stand by and watch this jerk hit a defenseless little kid, even if interfering landed him back in the hospital.
Chapter Ten
Delbert had never heard Sam approach, obviously. He shook off Sam’s hand. “Who the hell are you?” he asked. Though alcoholic beverages had been prohibited at the festivities, this guy’s breath and behavior indicated he’d found a way to smuggle some in.
“The name’s Sam. And I think you’d better cool off before you do something you’ll regret.”
“You’re going to regret you ever came here tonight if you don’t butt out of my business.” Delbert turned to give Zach another shove that nearly knocked the boy down. “Get in the damned truck.”
Watching the child stumble as he tried desperately to catch his balance made Sam grind his teeth. He shot a hard look at the bleached blonde. “What kind of mother stands by and lets a big jerk like that hit her kid?”
She flushed and gave Delbert a frightened look. “We better just go, okay? We don’t want any trouble.”
“Yeah. We’ll finish this when we get home.” The menace in Delbert’s voice made both the woman and the boy quail.
Sam stepped between Delbert and the battered truck. “You lay a hand on that boy tonight, or any other time, and I’ll make sure you never get close enough to touch him again.”
He knew he was being reckless, interfering in a domestic situation that was technically none of his business, but he couldn’t stand the thought that no one was watching out for this boy’s welfare. Somebody had to put Zach first—and it obviously wasn’t going to be his mother.
Delbert took another step toward Sam, until his belly was only inches from Sam’s tightly cinched belt. “I don’t know who you are,” he said, his voice low. “But you’re making an enemy you don’t want.”
“And so are you,” Sam answered smoothly.
“What’s going on here?” Dan Meadows appeared out of the shadows, his hands on his hips, his voice stern. Serena and Marjorie stood close behind him; Sam assumed they had summoned him.
The look Delbert gave Dan indicated there were plenty of hard feelings between the two. “This a friend of yours, Chief?” He emphasized the title with a sneer.
“I know him. What’s the problem?”
“You need to teach your pal not to interfere with people he doesn’t know. We were just minding our own business when he assaulted us.”
Since Dan’s gaze went directly to the miserable looking Zach, Sam figured the chief guessed what had caused the confrontation. “Oh, I doubt Sam assaulted you. More likely he just wanted to introduce himself. He’s new in town, aren’t you, Sam?”
Sam nodded.
Delbert’s scowl intensified as he realized he would get no sympathy from Dan. He pointed a finger at Sam. “You stay away from me and mine,” he muttered.
“It’s a small town,” Sam answered evenly. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Delbert shot another angry look at Dan, then shouldered past Sam. “Rita, Zach—get in the truck.”
“I’ll be in your neighborhood quite a bit during the next couple of weeks,” Dan said as Sam moved reluctantly out of the way. “I’ll probably stop by a few times to same hello to my buddy Zach.”
In other words, he would be watching for bruises or any signs of abuse. Sam was far from satisfied with the veiled warning. “That’s all you’re going to do?” he asked Dan as Delbert’s truck spat gravel on its departure from the parking lot.
“That’s all I can do,” Dan reminded him tersely. “You didn’t actually see him hit the boy, did you?”
“He shoved him. Twice. Nearly knocked him off his feet both times. And he had his hand raised to hit him when I stepped in.”
Dan glanced at Serena and Marjorie. “Did either of you see Delbert shove the kid?”
Serena shook her head. “I was unlocking my car. I didn’t realize Sam wasn’t behind me until I heard Delbert’s voice raised. That’s when I saw what was going on and started looking for you.”
“I didn’t see it, either,” Marjorie admitted. And then her face brightened. “But I’ll say I did if it will help Zach.”
Dan winced. “Uh, no. We can’t do that.” He turned to Sam again. “Look, I know you’re concerned about the boy. I am, too. I’ll talk to Rita again—though God knows she’s so scared of Delbert, she won’t do much to interfere with him.”
“Then why does she keep the bastard around? They’re not married, right?”
“No. But cases like this are so damned frustrating because of that very thing—the women are more scared of being alone, for some reason, than they are of being knocked around. Or maybe they’re afraid to try to get out of the relationship for fear of reprisal. That’s the most dangerous time in an abusive relationship—when the victim tries to break away.”
“But—”
Dan held up a hand. “I’ll contact the Department of Human Services, ask them to look into the home conditions there again, okay? They’ve gotten involved before, but they haven’t done much. They’re overworked and understaffed, and their efforts have to be primarily focused on the most critical cases, but they’ll send someone to talk to Delbert and Rita and Zach. And I’ll be very visible to all three of them for the next few weeks. For now, that’s all I can do. Or you, either,” he added warningly. “Unless you’ve got some desire to end up in the hospital again.”
Sam scowled. “In other words, until the kid has some broken bones or a concussion or a couple dozen stitches, Delbert’s off the hook.”
“I’m going to do my best to keep it from getting to that point. But in the meantime, you stay out of it, you hear? You’re only going to make the whole situation worse if you set Delbert off again.”
There was nothing left for Sam to say. He knew Dan was doing what he could, but it was damned frustrating to know something was going on and not be able to put an end to it.
Serena and Sam lingered in the garage after Marjorie went inside. The ride home had been a bit tense, Marjorie filling in the silence between Serena and Sam with a recap of the evening’s juiciest gossip. Neither of her listeners had made much comment.
After Marjorie excused herself with a claim of fatigue that was obviously a ruse to leave them alone, Serena turned to Sam. “I have to ask—do you want to get beaten up again?”
“Hardly.”
“Delbert Farley is the meanest, most obnoxious and aggressive man in this town. He’s been in jail several times. Two of my clients are pursuing legal damages against him because of his viciousness and destructiveness and—”
“He hits little kids,” Sam cut in, folding his arms across his chest. “At least one little kid. Zach. The boy’s terrified of him, and obviously for good reason.”
“I’m sure you meant well, but don’t you understand that interfering in domestic cases is dangerous? You could have been badly hurt. What if he’d hit you in the ribs? Or what if you’d fallen and hit your head? You might have made an incredibly fast recovery last time, but if you’d reinjured those—”
“What would you have had me do, Serena?” he interrupted to ask. “Stand there and watch him backhand that boy?”
“No, of course not. You could have done what Mother and I did—found Dan and let him handle the situation.”
“By the time I’d done that, Farley would have already hit the boy and
left.”
“It’s Dan’s job to deal with that sort of thing.”
“It’s everyone’s job,” Sam snapped. “When the parents won’t protect a child, someone else has to step in. When they don’t, the kid’s on his own—completely helpless, alone, trusting no one because he doesn’t know who he can trust.”
Serena was taken aback by the bitterness in Sam’s voice. The underlying hints of pain. Was he describing his own childhood? Was that why he was so reluctant to talk about his past? Was that why he had no family to turn to now? “Sam?”
His jaw tightened. “It just made me mad to see that jerk pushing Zach around.”
It abruptly occurred to her that she was criticizing him for doing something that had been very courageous and well-intentioned. Though the bruises from his injuries still hadn’t completely faded and the scar from his stitches was still livid against his forehead, he had risked personal injury to protect a small boy he didn’t even know. Would she really have admired him more if he had looked the other way?
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding up both hands in an apologetic gesture. “Of course you did the right thing. I was just worried that Delbert would hurt you, too.”
He seemed to relax a little at that. Uncrossing his arms, he reached out to touch her face. “You were worried about me?”
When she’d turned to see Sam in a confrontation with Delbert Farley, her heart had almost stopped. Everyone knew Delbert was someone to be avoided, especially when he was in a temper. He was mean and unpredictable, quick with his fists and unconcerned with consequences. He could have done serious damage to Sam before Serena had arrived with Dan. She’d worried the whole time.
“I really am capable of taking care of myself, you know,” Sam said.
“I don’t doubt that you are,” she replied, though she still remembered the way he’d looked when she’d found him. “But you aren’t fully recovered yet, no matter how much you pretend you’re no longer in any pain.”
He was standing very close to her, the back of his hand resting against her cheek. Finding herself suddenly lost in his eyes, she almost forgot what she’d been fussing about. Funny how she was beginning to think the garage was a romantic place. She’d been spending way too much time in here with Sam.
He seemed to somehow know what she was thinking. He glanced around the garage, then looked at her with a slightly rueful smile. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”
The bad cliché broke the spell she’d almost fallen into. She returned the smile with a faint one of her own. “You’re right.”
“Except for the episode with Farley, I enjoyed your Independence Day celebration. Thanks for including me with your friends.”
“I’m glad you had a good time. And there’s no such thing as too many friends.”
“Right. So…” He ran his knuckles lightly down the line of her jaw. “Good night, friend.”
She maintained her smile with an effort. “Good night, Sam.”
His gaze was on her mouth when his hand fell to his side. Neither of them made the first move away. And, suddenly, neither of them was smiling.
“Serena?” His voice was husky.
Hers was a whisper. “Yes?”
“You’d better go in. Now.”
“I know.” But still she didn’t move.
Sam put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the exit. “Go.”
She couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder again. Their eyes met—and Sam sighed. “Well,” he murmured, “I tried.”
A moment later, she was in his arms, her lips smothered beneath his. The fireworks they’d viewed at the Independence Day celebration were nothing in comparison to the ones that exploded in Serena’s mind when Sam pulled her closer to his lean, hard body and swept her mouth with his tongue.
Serena had tried repeatedly to convince herself that her sister had inherited all the reckless genes in the family. Yet every time Sam kissed her, she responded with an enthusiasm that belied that long-held assumption.
She didn’t respond this way to other men. She’d always prided herself on being practical and rational, even in matters of romance. She didn’t let herself be led by instinct or controlled by hormones. Yet, somehow, here she was, being kissed senseless in her garage by a man who appealed directly to both her instincts and her hormones. A man her rational mind kept trying to warn her away from.
Sam’s hands were cupped around her bottom, pressing her against his arousal. Was she reminding herself that this was rash and imprudent behavior? No. She was reveling in it.
Even when she found herself pressed against the paneled wall, his leg between hers, his mouth devouring hers, did she push him away and inform him that she had no interest in pursuing this further? No. She did everything she could to pull him closer.
This time it was Sam who broke the kiss off with a gasp and a groan. If he hadn’t, Serena couldn’t have said how far the embrace might have gone. He didn’t immediately release her, but stood with his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven as he took a moment to regain his equilibrium. Serena thought it might take quite a while for her to recover her own.
“There’s something about you,” he said after a long moment, “that makes me forget every promise I make to myself. Something that completely destroys my willpower.”
“Trust me,” she murmured after moistening her tender lips, “I know the feeling.”
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said, lifting his head. “Soon. But not here,” he added, glancing around the garage. “Not tonight. It’s late, and you’re probably tired.”
This was definitely not the time to talk about anything important. She could barely speak, much less think clearly enough to concentrate on a conversation. Still, she was curious. “What do you want to talk about?”
He seemed about to answer—but then he stopped and shook his head. “Later.”
She studied his face. That lost look was in his eyes again, the one that sneaked behind the few defenses she had left against him. She found it hard to believe he could deliberately assume that expression, for whatever reason. There was a sadness in Sam she didn’t understand and didn’t know how to alleviate.
She remembered something LuWanda, one of his hospital nurses, had said about him. “Have you seen the look in his eyes? Something tragic happened to him—maybe the death of someone he loved deeply or something awful like that. He’s running from a broken heart or tragic memories. I’d bet my next week’s salary on it.”
Maybe it was that alleged tragedy Sam wanted to talk to her about. But not tonight.
Realizing she was still standing in his arms, their bodies still intimately pressed together, she eased away from him. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said—and in the meantime, she would do everything she could to reinforce those very precarious defenses.
Sam pushed his hands in his pockets. This time, he made no move to detain her when she turned and moved toward the door.
The big gossip at the diner the next day was that someone had broken into the candy store, trashed the place and stolen an unspecified amount of money from the cash register. It happened sometime between midnight and three o’clock, according to the reports Sam heard. There couldn’t have been much money in the store, but it had certainly been easy enough to break into, with its end-of-the-street location, big windows and lack of a security system.
“What is the world coming to?” Justine fussed to Sam during a lull in luncheon business. “Seems like every time I turn around, I’m hearing about another crime in this town. Home break-ins, your mugging and now this. I can tell you, folks are starting to wonder what Dan Meadows is doing to earn his salary. I heard the mayor had quite a long talk with him this morning.”
Sam hated hearing his tale in the list of unsolved crimes being held against the affable police chief. Serena was definitely not the only one in this town to whom he owed an apology and the truth. “I’m sure Chief Meadows will solve the
se cases soon. He seems to take his responsibilities very seriously.”
“Oh, I like Dan—just about everyone does,” Justine assured him. “We just want to keep him on his toes.”
Sam, for one, was glad he didn’t have Dan’s very publicly scrutinized job.
Dan walked into the diner just as Marjorie hung the Closed sign in the window that afternoon. “Hey, Dan,” Sam greeted him, knowing this particular customer was welcome at any time. “Can I get you some iced tea or a cup of coffee?”
“Tea sounds good. It’s hot as blue blazes out there.” Dan glanced at Marjorie. “You mind if Sam and I sit and talk for a few minutes? I won’t keep him long.”
“Go right ahead,” Marjorie replied with a smile. “Sam’s pretty much finished for the day, anyway. How about a piece of pie to go with that tea? We’ve got a couple slices of lemon icebox left.”
“No, thanks.” Dan made a rueful face as he patted his stomach. “My pants seem to be shrinking a bit lately. Guess I’d better start cutting back on the sweets before I end up with a belly like my dad’s.”
“Your father’s not fat—he’s just robust,” Marjorie assured him kindly.
Dan laughed. “Well, I’d like to be just a little less robust than Dad. Sam,” he added as Sam carried two glasses of tea toward him, “let’s take that booth in the back, shall we?”
It was obvious that Dan wanted to talk in private. Sam suspected the chief wasn’t going to invite him fishing this time. As always, he wondered exactly what Dan had discovered since the last time they’d talked. Did Dan know more about him than Sam knew himself?
“What is it, Chief?” he asked when they were seated in the relatively isolated booth, out of hearing of the other diner employees who were preparing to leave for the day.
Dan took a sip of the tea, then set the glass on the table. “You called me Dan when we went fishing.”