by Diana Palmer
She nodded. “Thanks. She’s sensitive on the subject.”
He watched her go out the door with mingled emotions. So Sarah didn’t speak to Minette about her real father. Curious. They seemed close. But, then, you never knew really went on in families.
* * *
Minette showed up just after lunch with Shane and Julie, her little brother and sister, in tow. They ran into the room where Hayes was and jumped into bed with him, shoes and all. Shane was bigger than Julie, a rough and tumble eleven-year-old who loved wrestling and never missed a match that featured his favorites.
“No, kids, calm down! He’s been injured!” Minette said frantically. “And we don’t climb on beds with shoes on!”
“Sorry, Minette,” Julie said, pulling off her shoes and tossing them over the side.
“Me, too,” Shane agreed, doing the same.
They moved closer to Hayes, who was fascinated with their lack of fear. He was a stranger, mostly, whom they hardly knew.
“You’re gonna live with us,” Shane said. “You got shot, yeah?”
He chuckled. “I got shot.”
“What a mean thing to do,” Julie said solemnly. She moved right up to Hayes’s good arm and curled up next to him. “We’ll protect you, Hayes,” she said softly. “We won’t let anybody hurt you ever again.”
Hayes felt tears sting his eyes. He hid them, of course, but the child’s comment touched him as nothing had in years. His profession kept him bereft of visible emotion. He had to keep it in check, because he had to be strong. He’d seen things most people never had to look at. It affected him. Of course it did. So he buried his feelings deeper and deeper over the years, until he hardly felt anything. But he’d been shot and he was still fragile. Julie’s innocent offer to protect him made him melt inside.
“What a sweetheart you are,” Hayes said softly, and brushed back the child’s pretty blond hair.
She grinned at him and cuddled closer.
“Can we look at where you got shot?” Shane asked. “Is it awful?”
Hayes laughed. “Not a good idea. Yes, it is awful.”
“Who shot you?” Shane persisted.
“Someone very mean, and we’ll get him,” Hayes promised.
“You two come on with me. Aunt Sarah has cookies and milk!”
“Cookies and milk! Woohoo!” Shane cheered, bouncing on the bed.
“Stop that and come down here,” Minette said firmly, lifting him off the bed and onto the floor. “Oof, you’re getting heavy!” she exclaimed. “Go get cookies. And I think SpongeBob is on television.”
“Aw, Minette, that’s for little kids like Julie...” Something by the television had caught the boy’s attention. He picked up a DVD case and looked at it. “It’s How to Train Your Dragon!” he exclaimed. “He’s got How to Train Your Dragon!” He looked excitedly through the other cases. “There’s WALL-E and Up and...!”
“Yes, I love cartoons,” Hayes confessed with a faint flush.
“Me, too,” Minette said, smiling. “Those are great movies.”
“Can we come watch them with you after supper?” Shane pleaded. “Please?”
Hayes laughed at Minette’s consternation. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
“That’s very nice of you, Hayes,” Julie said in her soft, formal tone. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He started to help her off the bed, but Minette was there first. “No lifting,” she told Hayes. “Copper Coltrain would let surgical interns practice on me if I dared let you pick up something as heavy as Julie.”
“But I’m not heavy, Minette,” Julie protested as she was placed gently on the floor.
“Not to me, precious,” Minette said, hugging her. “But Hayes has been shot. He can’t use his other arm yet.”
“That’s right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Downstairs now, both of you,” Minette told the children.
“Yes, Minette,” Julie said.
They waved at Hayes and ran clamoring down the steps to the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Minette apologized. “They get a little wild.”
“It’s okay,” Hayes said with a genuine smile. “They’re great kids.”
She was impressed. “Thanks.”
“You’ve done very well with them,” he continued. “It must have been difficult.” He spoke as if the words were dragged out of him.
Minette smiled faintly. “It wasn’t as if I had a choice. I couldn’t give them up for adoption or let them be placed in an orphanage. I promised my stepmother I’d take care of them.”
“Your stepmother was a good woman,” Hayes remarked.
She nodded. “She was one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. Always doing good works, taking care of people who needed her. I admired her.” She hesitated. “I loved her.”
“Your...father was kind, too.”
She was hesitant. “He was. He was my stepfather, you know, not my real father. I don’t know who my real father is. Mama never told me.” She moved closer. “But Stan kept secrets.” She frowned. “He said that he knew something that he had to tell me, but he put it off until it was too late. When he was dying, and he lost his voice after the stroke, he even tried to write it down.” She drew in a long breath. “But what he wrote was just gibberish. I’ve wondered about what it could be.” She laughed after a minute. “We don’t have any dark family secrets. It was probably something about the kids that he wanted me to know.”
“Yes.” But Hayes was oddly quiet when he said that.
She stared at him. “Hayes, do you know something about me that you’re not telling?”
His heart jumped. He stared at her intently. He wanted to say something. He really did. But at the last, he recalled his father’s words and the promise he’d been forced to make. When he gave his word, he kept it. Always.
“No,” he lied with a straight face. “No, I do not know anything. Anything at all. Honest.”
She cocked her head. “I read true crime books. I learn a lot from them. Usually when people don’t want to tell the truth, their speech pattern is an indication of that. They speak very formally, without contractions, and they repeat the protest over and above what’s called for.”
Hayes’s high cheekbones actually flushed.
“You do know something,” she guessed. “Is it something terrible? I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to tell me. I’m the enemy, after all, isn’t that right?”
His sensuous lips compressed into a straight line. “If I’m the enemy why are you taking care of me?”
Her heart jumped at the way he said it.
He saw her reaction, and his antagonism took a nosedive. She was very pretty when she was upset. Her face became pink and radiant, her freckles stood out. Her black eyes glittered with true beauty.
“People who keep dinosaurs arouse sympathy?” she asked after a minute.
He burst out laughing. “Andy isn’t a dinosaur.”
“See? When you denied that, you used a contraction.”
“Minette, you can’t learn everything from books,” he pointed out.
“Oh, it’s not just books, I’m all over the internet reading case files,” she replied.
He frowned. “Why aren’t you out dating men?”
“Oh, sure, that’s a great idea,” she mused. She glanced toward the door and hesitated, listening, to make sure the children couldn’t overhear. “So many men want to get serious about a woman with two small dependents. They line up at my door every day.”
“I see.”
“There was one guy, who was visiting his grandmother here. He asked me out in the newspaper office. I was at a loose end and he seemed very nice. He came to pick me up for the date. Julie and Shane were waiting with me at the door.” Her face was sad. “I couldn’t believe he was the same man when we went to dinner. He was stiff, polite, formal, and he rushed through the meal and took me straight home. Before he left, he blurted out that I was a nice woman and he liked me,
but he wasn’t going to saddle himself with someone else’s kids. I pointed out that they were my stepfather and stepmother’s kids and he said it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to start out with a ready-made family. He made it quite clear.”
Hayes stared at her intently. “You love those kids.”
“Of course I do. I’ve taken care of them since they were born,” she reminded him, her voice soft and gentle with reminiscence. “My stepmother’s health was precarious at best, and after Shane and Julie were born, it grew quickly worse. I picked up the slack.” She felt tears threaten. “Dawn was one of the kindest people I ever knew. She was very much like what I remember of my mother. I nursed her, right up until the end. I promised her that I’d care for her children as if they were my very own, and I keep my promises.”
“So do I,” Hayes admitted.
“My stepfather had a stroke, and then a heart attack, not too long after Dawn died. He tried so hard to talk to me, to write to me, to make me understand what he wanted to tell me. But I never could. I looked through all their papers, searching for something they’d written down. There was nothing.” She smiled. “Probably it was about the kids.”
Hayes managed to look innocent. “I imagine it was.”
Her eyes narrowed. She was remembering another conversation. “You might tell me one day, huh?” she asked suddenly.
“When pigs fly,” he blurted out.
She moved closer to the bed. “Why won’t you tell me?”
He drew in a ragged breath. “I keep my promises, too.”
“What does that mean?”
Mercifully there was a small riot downstairs, Julie yelling at Shane about a toy.
“You’d better get down there before bloodshed ensues,” Hayes told her, relieved at the interruption.
She threw up her hands and raced down the staircase.
Chapter 3
It was a new experience for Hayes to have children around, especially children who liked him and curled up with him in bed to watch cartoon movies.
Minette was surprised and touched at how quickly the big, taciturn sheriff melted when the kids cuddled with him. Even Shane did it, although he was older and usually standoffish with people he didn’t know. Hayes knew most of the wrestlers by name, which made him Shane’s best friend almost at once. They were trying to talk about their favorites while the movie was on, and Julie kept shushing them. It was amusing to Minette.
They watched the movies, but they were always asking questions. What was that place, who did that, could that happen in real life? It went on and on. He never seemed to mind trying to answer those questions, and he was incredibly patient. Patience was not a word that Minette had ever associated with Hayes Carson. In fact, he was well-known for the opposite.
“Okay, you two, time for bed,” Minette said when the movie finished playing.
“Awwwww,” Shane grumbled.
“Do we have to go now?” Julie protested, clinging to Hayes. “What if Hayes gets sick in the night? Can’t we stay with him?”
Hayes was touched beyond words. He swallowed, hard. “Thanks, Julie,” he said softly, and he smiled.
She grinned at him. “Can you tell us a story?” she asked.
“Yes,” Shane agreed. “We want a story!”
Hayes glanced at Minette, who looked confused and faintly irritated. “I’m sorry, kids,” he said gently, “but most of the stories I know wouldn’t quite suit.”
“Do you shoot bad guys like in the movies?” Shane asked, all eyes.
“Not so much, no,” Hayes replied. “Actually I’m usually the one getting shot,” he added with pursed lips.
“I bet it hurts,” Shane said. “Can’t we see where you got shot?”
“Okay, that’s it, off the bed,” Minette clapped her hands to get them moving.
“I bet it looks awful,” Shane persisted.
“It does,” Hayes said. “And it’s bandaged, you know,” he added, thinking fast. “Dr. Coltrain would be mad at me if I took it off.”
“Good point,” Minette said, looking grateful for his quick thinking. “So that’s that. Bath time.”
“Nooo!” Shane wailed. “I just had a bath yesterday, sis!”
“You’re dirty,” Julie said, wrinkling her nose. “You smell bad, too.”
“Julie,” Minette said, exasperated. “We don’t say things like that, even to family, now do we?”
“No, Minette,” Julie said. She went to her sister and held out her arms. “I’m sorry.”
Minette swept her up and hugged her close, smiling. “It’s okay. But you mustn’t hurt Shane’s feelings. You wouldn’t like it if he said something like that to you. Now would you?”
“No, Minette,” she agreed.
“Aw, she’s a girl,” Shane returned. “Girls are mean.”
“We are not!” Julie said, pouting.
“Baths. Aunt Sarah’s waiting. Julie first.”
“Can I watch wrestling downstairs while Julie bathes?” Shane asked quickly.
“Just for a very few minutes.”
“Okay! Hayes, I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!” He ran out of the room like a small tornado.
Sarah appeared in the doorway, laughing. “Did Shane escape?” she teased.
“He did,” Minette said. She put Julie down. “Go with Aunt Sarah,” she said gently. “Be good.”
“Yes, Minette.” She peered around Aunt Sarah toward Hayes. “I wish we could stay with you, Hayes,” she sighed.
Hayes looked odd as Sarah swept the child out of the room.
Minette let out a breath. “Two of them.” She shook her head. “Some days I wish there were two of me and two of Aunt Sarah, just to cope. I’m sorry if they bothered you...”
“No.” He said it abruptly, and then smiled sheepishly. “No, they didn’t bother me at all. I like kids.”
She stared at him curiously. “You do?”
He nodded. “They’re great.” He smiled. “Shane’s a walking wrestling fact encyclopedia, and Julie has a big heart, for such a little girl.”
“She really does,” Minette agreed. She moved closer to the bed. He looked ragged. “Pain getting worse?”
He glared at her.
She retrieved a medicine bottle from the bookshelf beside the bed, read the label and shook out two pills. She handed them to Hayes, and pushed his soft drink toward him.
He made a face.
“Copper Coltrain said that your body can’t heal if it has to fight the pain at the same time. I’m sure he told you that, too.”
“He did. I just hate pills.” But he swallowed them, and washed them down with the last of his soft drink.
“We’ll bring supper up in a few minutes. It’s nothing fancy, just leftover roast beef and mashed potatoes.”
He looked as if he’d died and gone to paradise. “Homemade mashed potatoes, again?”
“Well, yes,” she said hesitantly. “They don’t take long to fix and they go good with beef. It’s not fancy,” she repeated.
“To a man who lives on takeout and burned eggs and lethal biscuits, it’s a feast,” he replied. “And you have a gift for cooking potatoes,” he added self-consciously.
“Thank you.” She hadn’t considered that he ate much. But she had heard stories of his cooking. None of them were good. “I guess you’re like me,” she replied, moving a little closer to the bed. “I don’t even have time for lunch. I eat it while I’m writing copy or helping make up the paper.”
“I eat in the car most of the time,” he confessed. “I go out with the guys to the steak place or the Chinese place about one day a month.”
She knew, as most people do, that Hayes could afford to eat out every day if he felt like it. But his deputies couldn’t. He wasn’t going to indulge his own appetite and emphasize the difference in his bank account and theirs by flaunting it. She liked him for that. She liked him for a lot of things. Not only was he the handsomest man she knew, he was the bravest.
“What
are you thinking so hard about?” he wondered aloud.
“How brave you are,” she blurted out without thinking and then flushed.
His pale eyebrows arched.
“Sorry, thinking aloud,” she replied. “I’ll get the kids put to bed, then I’ll bring up supper.”
“Minette,” he called as she reached the door.
She turned.
He averted his eyes. “I really meant it, when I thanked you. For letting me stay here.”
She wasn’t going to say that she knew he had nobody else to look after him. No close family, no good friends except for Stuart York, who was in Europe with his wife, Ivy. It would have been unkind.
“I know,” she said simply.
She managed a smile as she went out the door.
* * *
Hayes was almost asleep when she came in with a tray. On it was a light supper of beef with gravy and mashed potatoes, with a faintly elaborate fruit salad on the side.
“That’s more trouble than you should have gone to,” he began, propping up on the pillows.
“No trouble at all. I like to try and make food look good.”
“It does.”
She settled the tray on his lap and removed the hot coffee to the side table. “Just so you don’t knock it over,” she explained. “The tray is a little flimsy.”
He smiled. “No problem.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said after a minute. “There’s pecan pie for dessert.”
“Wow.”
She laughed. “You really don’t cook, do you?”
He shook his head, his eyes closed on a wave of pleasure as he tasted the perfectly cooked roast beef. “This is delicious.”
She smiled shyly. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’ve never had better food anywhere.”
She laughed again. “Thanks.”
He took a bite of mashed potatoes, perfectly seasoned, and savored them.
“Your investigator wants to come and see you in the morning, to keep you up-to-date on the case,” she said suddenly. “Yancy thinks he may have a lead. I wanted to make sure you were feeling up to it first, though.”
His face became somber. “I’ll be up to it. I want to find out who tried to kill me.”
She nodded. “I don’t blame you for that. Copper said if you hadn’t moved when you did, it would have hit you square in the center of your forehead.”