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by Ruth Logan Herne


  “Two’s good.” Mac came forward and helped himself while Nick continued scrubbing. “Chocolate chip. My favorite.”

  “Mine too.” Cruz moved closer, helped himself to cookies before addressing Cress. “Any progress on your detective work, Cress?”

  “On your…” Alex eyed her, then Cruz. “What detective work?”

  “The kid on County Road Eleven.”

  “The kid you saw?” Alex looked right at her. “You didn’t go out there, did you?”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  Alex refused to get tangled in words. “I mean it, Cress. Leave it to the locals. You gave them the heads up. They’ll get it done. Won’t they?”

  He looked at Cruz, a brow thrust up. Cruz stepped back. “Not my jurisdiction, guys. I only got filled in because they didn’t want Cress to get hurt.”

  “So your job was to talk some sense into the pretty little thing.” Alex met his brother’s gaze and didn’t wonder why that thought bothered him so much. “She’s a detective, Cruz. A good one. Why downplay her instincts?” The fact that he was defending a cop, even a good one, surprised him, but felt good, like it was the right thing to do. Talk about a turnaround.

  “I can defend myself, Counselor.” She offered him a look of mixed amusement and frustration. “But he’s right, Cruz. I’m good at what I do. Damn good.”

  “See!” Aiden waved a hand, cookie crumbs dotting his mouth and fudging his words. “I told you she says bad words, Daddy!”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  Mac nodded. “Apology appreciated. Back off, Aiden. You’re not supposed to be listening to grown-up conversations anyway.” They waited until the boys took off for the far corner of the yard, in sight but out of earshot.

  Cruz kept his look trained on Cress. “I don’t doubt your abilities for a minute. I checked with MPD. Your history is solid. But right now you’re on injury leave and recuperating.” He dipped his chin toward her bad leg. “What if that gives out on you unexpectedly while you happen to be on a back country road, alone, checking out a perp we’ve got nothing on.”

  “So you’ve checked her out?”

  He nodded, grim. “Other than a twenty year old record of aggravated assault, we’ve got nothing.”

  “Exactly what my friend Felix told me.” Cress took a deep breath. Alex tried not to notice how her tank top rose delightfully with the movement, the soft shade of rose saying she could wear any shade of pink she wanted and look really, really good.

  Although she looked totally hot in dark green too, so maybe it wasn’t the color as much as the girl that caught his eye.

  “You’re checking him through MPD?”

  Cress made a face, then nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She sent him a look of surprise. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  Cruz leaned in. “Believe it. My gut tells me you’re right, that something’s amiss, but we can’t do a thing until we have something to go on. There’s no reason to get Social Services involved because the old lady’s done nothing to warrant that and the wrong move right now could end up with a dead kid.”

  “I know.”

  “So we wait.”

  “I hate waiting.” Cress’s look underscored her words.

  Cruz nodded. Smiled. “I see that. But you’ll wait because you are a good detective. We blow this now and she scrams off, we lose the whole thread and nothing good comes of it.”

  “I get it, Officer.” Cress sent him a look of approval. “You’re not too bad for a road cop in the country.”

  When Cruz preened at her words, Alex slipped an arm around her waist. “Don’t feed his ego. He’s already impossible.”

  “Runs in the family, I’d say.”

  Cruz laughed. “She’s got your number, old man.”

  “She does.” Something in his look must have cued Mac and Cruz because they both stepped back.

  “He’s done for.”

  “A goner.”

  “Off the market.”

  “Dead in the water.”

  “But there’s an up-side.”

  “The cookies?” Cruz raised his in the air.

  “That too. No. Bachelor party.”

  Cress took an abrupt step back. “You guys are whacked.”

  Alex stayed right where he was, eyeing her. “Maybe not.”

  She breathed deep and swallowed hard, one hand fingering the tiny pewter links of her neck chain, eyeing him.

  He stepped closer, much like he’d done with the horse, and let one hand graze the flat of her cheek in a soft caress. “Maybe not, Cress.”

  *

  “Mags, have we gotten anything back from Susan at DNR?” Alex tried to hide the frustration in his voice. From the look Maggie shot him, he failed.

  “As in confirmation of the grant application process?”

  “As in.”

  She eyed him from her desk, head tilted, her gaze assessing. “Like I wouldn’t have told you? I’d have kept it a secret?”

  “No, I—”

  “Or maybe we’re trying to hurry the slow-moving cogs of government along because of the growing affections to an interested observer?”

  “Out of your realm, Mags.”

  “Is it?” She handed him a slip of paper, her wide smile brightening dark brown eyes. “Message for you.”

  A message from Cress. Complete with cell phone number.

  He couldn’t hold back the grin.

  Maggie nodded. “Exactly my point.” She wagged her head toward his office. “Well, go on now. Call her. In private.”

  “You understand she’s probably just calling to ream me out over something, right?”

  “But at least she’s calling, boy. What are you waiting for?”

  He laughed and stepped into his office, then turned and with deliberate slowness, shut the door, his action inspiring Maggie’s deepening grin.

  And then he called Cress.

  “Counselor, that you?”

  “I have a name, Cress.”

  A tiny silence ensued, followed by a soft sigh. A very soft sigh that made his gut squish in a way he would have thought impossible around Cress Dietrich.

  Wrong.

  “I was hoping you could come see the progress I’m making with Brandywood.”

  Brandywood? The horse. Ah. “I’d love to. When and where?”

  “Today?”

  His heart nudged a little higher and tighter in his chest. “Sure.”

  “Around four? Before football practice with the kids?”

  “That’s perfect.” It was the farthest from perfect she could possibly get, but nothing he couldn’t rearrange or budge forward or back. Whatever it took. “And then you can come to practice with me and help with the boys again.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay? Did Cress Dietrich just say ‘okay’ like accepting an invitation to anything was a simple matter, unconducive to layers of argument? Another hurdle broached and cleared. He bit back a laugh. “I’ll meet you at Audra’s at four. Who’s got Gran tonight?”

  “Audra. She’s stepping in so I can step out.”

  Perfect opening. Ideal. “Then we can do something after practice? Go out? Grab something to eat?”

  Her hesitation said more than her words, but at least she said the words. “I’d like that.”

  “Me too.”

  She sighed again, as if weighing what she’d done, what she was doing, then her voice softened, another rarity. “I’ll see you at four.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  *

  By four-forty-five, Cress had pretty much decided that men were unreliable gender-wide and the world would do okay with sperm banks.

  And then Alex showed up, looking harassed and not too happy, suddenly reminding her of James and his penchant for putting anything else first.

  Not exactly the spin she hoped to put on the afternoon. Head down, she continued the horse’s walk, cooling him in an easy amble across the adjacent hay field, not trust
ing herself to talk. Not yet, anyway.

  “Cress, I’m sorry. I—”

  She turned a cool gaze his way, shutting down her thoughts, her emotions. Putting on a show was an art she’d perfected out of necessity on and off the force. It served her well right now. “No problem, Counselor.”

  “Listen, I—”

  She stepped back, averted her gaze and kept her expression unreadable. “It’s no big deal.”

  Oh, it was a big deal, heart and soul. Her heart had pushed her to make the call, extend the invitation, while her soul had dared her to offer him an opportunity to see the real Cress, the inner girl in need of healing, much like the horse.

  But what seemed vitally important to her was obviously casual to him. End of story.

  He stepped right in front of her, arms at his side, his voice low. “Don’t do this. It couldn’t be helped. I was able to juggle the rest of my afternoon, but I had a court appearance as an expert witness. It should have been over by three, but the defendant’s lawyer never showed. I tried to call, but it went straight to voice mail.”

  She’d stopped, her face averted, refusing to meet his gaze. A gentle but firm hand brought her chin up. “I’d have been here if I could. I don’t break promises lightly.”

  “But you do break them.”

  He studied her face, her look, her eyes, and then, instead of huffing a breath and walking away, he pulled her into his arms, his strong chest bracing her cheek, his arms wrapping her in a hug she hadn’t known she needed until he offered it. “Sometimes. But never on purpose. And next time I’ll think first before making the promise because occasionally there are things out of my control.”

  “Such as?”

  He leaned back and offered a slow, easy smile, then traced the shape of her mouth with one finger of his right hand. “How I feel about you. How I can’t sleep, eat or work without thoughts of you crowding in, nudging everything else aside. And why that makes me feel wonderful and scared to death all at once.”

  Since it made her feel exactly the same, she nodded. “So what do we do about it?”

  His kiss provided his reply, a slow, warm, what-have-I-been-doing-all-these-years kiss that melted her heart and seriously nicked her armor. She cuddled into his chest when he released her, hearing and feeling the beat of his heart beneath her ear, solid and true. “Alex.”

  The whispered name inspired his laugh. “So. You do know my name.”

  She smiled against the feel of soft cotton. “It’s a great name.”

  “My mother thanks you.”

  The horse gave a soft whinny and bobbed his head as if approving the romantic turns and twists but wondering where his sugar cube might be. Alex withdrew one from his pocket, looped an arm around Cress’s shoulders and resumed their easy walk. “He’s letting you mount him?”

  “Yes. Nicely.”

  “Well done.”

  “He’s still skittish.”

  Alex gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “Understandable.”

  That one word told her that he understood the skittishness was two-fold, the horse and her. Was she that transparent? That obvious?

  “Quit worrying it to death,” he admonished, reading her thoughts. “Can’t we take things day by day? See where it leads?

  “Except my leg is better and I’ll have to go back to work soon.”

  “Only if you choose to.”

  Cress frowned and shrugged. “Now you sound like Gran. And Audra.”

  He laughed. “Total bombardment.”

  “It’s not as easy as you all make out.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “It isn’t.” She turned, frowning, her heart and head a tangle of emotions. “I have a job there. A job I’m good at. And a partner who counted on me.”

  That little slip put Alex on high alert. His measured gaze paused their walk and took in her stance, her expression. “You think you let him down.”

  “I know I let him down. And I can’t just walk away from that. It’s not right.”

  He pondered her declaration before nodding. “Let’s go see him.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes, us. You. Me. The partner. He’s a nice guy?”

  “The best.”

  “Then you need to talk to him. Clear the air. Examine your options without the guilt factor.”

  “Easy words.”

  “They are. But the follow through isn’t as difficult as you make out. A little scary. And I can see you’ve been letting this build out of control since the shooting, right?”

  His words both stung and soothed. “Yes.”

  “So we fix that by heading up there and talking it out. I haven’t been to the Twin Cities in two years, and there’s a great restaurant in Wayzata with amazing seafood. My wallet knows how much you like seafood.”

  Remembering their dinner with Gran, she had the courtesy to blush.

  He grinned. “Let’s go on Friday if your partner’s available, talk with him, have dinner and drive back here that night.”

  A part of Cress’s heart eased a bit more.

  He hadn’t suggested a hotel for the night, or a weekend away. Just a drive, a talk she’d been dreading for well over a month, and dinner. So simple, yet so hard. Still, she nodded. “Okay.”

  He leaned in, his grip on her waist snugging her forward. “I’m really starting to like this agreeable side of you. Think we can bring her out a little more often? Dust her off? Put her to use?”

  “Well…”

  “She’s a good kisser,” he added, his smile inspiring hers. “And she’s got cute dimples that peek out when she laughs. Kissable dimples.”

  “Alex.” She laughed up at him, getting her kissed again, while the horse bobbed his head in approval. “I think the horse is a matchmaker.”

  “Could be. I’ve gotten kissed more in his presence than I ever thought possible.”

  “Me, too.”

  Alex re-angled their walk, heading back toward the paddock. “So. You’ll still go to practice with me even though I messed up our afternoon? And have supper with me afterwards?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He planted a kiss to her hair. “If I’d known breaking you down with a few kisses was that easy, I might have tried it sooner.”

  His phrase dashed cold water on the warm moment. He paused, watching her, his expression flashing concern and apology. “What did I say? I was kidding, Cress.”

  But thoughts of James tempting her back with kisses and apologies, memories of losing her strength by depending on his, listening to excuses, half-truths and lies, part of her hating what she’d become while the other part knew he’d helped fashion her into the good cop she was, the two sides at war.

  “I’m sorry, Cress.”

  “For?” She turned her head aside, staring out, avoiding the concern in his eyes. Sure, her leg was more dependable, but how could she function properly in the real world of love and relationships when simple words tumbled her into the abyss of shame and self-degradation?

  “Whatever I did or said to put that look in your eye.” He moved forward, slow and easy, much like he had with the horse. “I’m not afraid to do whatever it takes to erase it.”

  His pledge should have sparked a swelling heart and tears of joy. Instead she wanted to curl up and cry alone in a deep, dark corner, hiding until she made sense of the whole, stupid mess.

  He gathered her into his arms and held tight. “When you’re ready,” he whispered against her hair, her ear.

  She didn’t cry, but she didn’t run away either. A step in the right direction. But would she ever be able to move forward independently? It didn’t feel like it right now. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Not really.”

  Alex lay his head against her hair, the textured weave of his jacket beneath her cheek. “As far as the East is from the West, he has cast our transgressions from us,” Alex quoted softly. “Day by day, Cress. That’s all I ask. Okay?”

  His words piqued the images she’d dreamed of
that week, the thoughts of simple words, simple gifts, simple times. She sniffled, shifted her gaze and nodded, wondering if it could ever come true for her. “Okay.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Wow.”

  Aiden’s gasp of appreciation that night made the head rush totally worth it. Cress nodded to him from the top bar of the playground, hair hanging toward the ground, knees locked around the thick metal pole. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Except that half the world can see your underwear.”

  Cress turned, still suspended from the crossbar, and grinned at Alex’s approach. “Camisoles should not be considered underwear.”

  “No?” His look said otherwise. One finger traced the waistline of pale green knit tucked into hip-hugging capris. “Tshirts are underwear.”

  She rocked twice, thrust herself back up to the bar, righted herself and nodded, pretending the touch didn’t send her thoughts tumbling, scrambling any hope of coherent thought. “Yes.”

  “Then, logically…”

  “Okay, okay, but it’s not like a bra or something, Alex. For pity’s sake.”

  “She said bra,” whispered Nick, eyes round.

  “I told you she was naughty,” Aiden rejoined, his gaze knowing.

  Cress hopped off the bar and bent to their level. “It’s okay to talk about clothes, boys. Everybody wears them.”

  “Boys don’t wear those,” Aiden asserted, pointing in the general area of her chest. “Only girls.”

  “He’s got you there,” Alex noted. He grabbed up Nick in one arm and noogied Aiden with his free hand. “You guys need to get home. I have to feed Cress. I promised.”

  “No ice cream?”

  “Not tonight?”

  Matching looks of surprise swept Alex and Cress. Cress caved instantly. “Ice cream for supper is one of my favorites, boys.”

  Nick brightened immediately. Aiden hesitated. “But you’re not supposed to eat ice cream for supper. Are you?”

  Cress bent low. “Sometimes you have to eat ice cream for supper. Because it’s so good.”

  “But not too often,” Alex explained. He smiled at Cress, the warmth of his approval sheltering her.

  “So don’t do it tomorrow.” Aiden reasoned as he accepted her hand to cross the access road to the adjacent parking lot. “But tonight would be okay.”

 

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