RENEGADE'S REDEMPTION

by Lindsey Longford

  Silently, they stood in line for the icy treats. The excitement and heat were wearing out even Tommy, who leaned drowsily between them while Royal handed over money for three neon-colored cones in a corrugated carrier.

  As she walked in a stupor with Royal toward the phone mounted on a pole near the Sno-Kone stand, he nodded toward the ticket booth on the far side of the refreshment stand. “Look, I’d like to keep our shadows in as much confusion as we can. It probably doesn’t matter, but I’d rather they didn’t wonder why I’m making a phone call or who I’m getting in touch with. Let’s throw them a curveball and split up for a moment. Instead of going with me to make the call, will you buy the tickets so our comrades will figure we’re planning on staying for the rodeo events for a while?”

  “I can do that.” Gripping Tommy’s hand, Elly weighed her options. Despite what Royal had said, maybe she should slip away. If she could get to her car, she could be Elena Malone for a day or two and then, well, then Elena could disappear, too. Other people vanished into the underbelly of the country for years. She could, too. She’d just have to make better plans than she had so far—that was all, no matter what Royal had said.

  The prospect of constructing another new identity daunted her. She was lucky she could remember her name. Lucky Tommy could keep as many facts straight as he did.

  Royal had brought her safely to the vicinity of her car. It might be best for all three of them if she used this chance to disappear.

  “Elly, you will wait here for me?” His expression as he held out a red Sno-Kone to her and a smaller purple one to Tommy was grim. He dropped the carrier into a trash can. “Or are you going to split and run the minute my back’s to you?”

  “I told you to call your friend,” she countered wearily, checked. She’d been stupid to think she could keep a step ahead of Royal. “Why would I run now?”

  “Because you’re used to taking care of things on your own. Because you don’t trust me to see this through. Because you’re afraid I’ll let you down. Sugar, I could give you a hundred reasons why you’d slip away. Don’t leave, Elly.” His face was as serious as she’d ever seen it, an intensity in the lean planes that tightened the skin and darkened his eyes and almost made her believe in him. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Please stay.”

  She lifted Tommy to her hip. She wouldn’t get as far as her car. Either Royal or Blake’s men would be there to intercept her. She was safer sticking with Royal, no matter how uncomfortable it made her to depend on him. “Go make your phone call, Royal. I’ll wait. You don’t have to worry about me.” Feeling trapped, she smiled for their audience and walked to the ticket booth.

  But she stuffed the money Royal had given her into her pocket and used her own, a useless rebellion that made her feel better. With the tickets in her hand, she lingered at the edge of the ring. Letting Tommy peek through the slats in the fence while they waited, she kept Royal in clear view.

  Sauntering toward the phone, Royal looked neither left nor right. In his green shirt and jeans, he was the picture of a man out for a good time, not a worry in the world. He punched out a number, his shoulders hunched so that no one could see the numbers, and then he seemed to speak into the phone, laughing once as though in conversation.

  All pretense, all illusion.

  He would be holding down the receiver button while he waited for Beau to return the call. The phone would ring, but it would look as if he’d been talking on it, not waiting for a return call. His game would be to make it seem casual, giving no indication that he was making a call for reinforcements.

  When he returned, she said, “You really were a good detective, weren’t you? It must have killed you to quit.”

  “I’m alive.” He didn’t look at her.

  His simple answer revealed more pain than she guessed he’d want her to see. Maybe he was forcing her to trust him. Maybe she was only seeing the man he kept hidden from everyone else except for his three friends, but she could see how giving up his profession, a profession he was uniquely suited for, could have destroyed him.

  Elly tried to generate enthusiasm for the bull riding. She couldn’t. She was in overload. So was Tommy. After ten minutes of stupefied observation, he fell asleep in her lap.

  “Want me to hold him?” Royal’s denimed knees scraped along her thigh as he shifted toward her.

  “No. He’s comfortable. He’ll wake up if we move him.”

  “And you’re not sure I won’t take off with him, are you, Elly?”

  She glanced down at the ring as cheers erupted from a packed section off to their left. Royal had taken them to the top row so that he could see anyone coming up toward them. “That’s not the problem. Not anymore. I don’t think you’re going to steal him from me.” She rested Tommy’s head against her breast and avoided looking at Royal. “What did Beau say?”

  “We’re going to give our shadows the slip after the first series of fireworks. I told Beau where your car is. He’s coming in the patrol car, and we’re going to crawl in the back and drive right out of here, chauffeured by Palmaflora’s best.”

  “But my car?” A cry escaped her. She couldn’t leave her car. It held everything she needed for her next move.

  “They’ll be expecting us to go to your car. In fact, I’ll bet they’ve already put a tracking device on it now they know where you are, what you drive.”

  She buried her face against her son’s soft hair. “You’re taking everything away from me. You’re leaving me nothing, nothing!”

  “Aw, Elly, hang on, sugar. Think about what I’m saying. Your car is a giveaway. Where it is, you are. All they have to do is go in and pluck you like a ripe peach. You know I’m right. We can’t take the chance. If we leave the car here, we’ll have a window of opportunity. Because, Elly—” he slipped his hand under her hair and cupped her head “—they’ll be waiting for us near the car.”

  Down below her, the rider circled one hand in the air and held on for dear life with the other. She knew how he felt. A groan went up as the bull convulsed in a mighty bend of muscle and power and sent him flying.

  Royal was right. She’d cut her losses again and again. What was one more time? “We’re going to camp out in Beau’s squad car?”

  “The first step is to get away from here for a few hours and think things through without having to keep up the playacting. We’re going to Beau’s. Leesha will be there, too. Maggie and Sullivan are coming in the morning. Can you hang on until then, Elly?” He stroked down the length of her hair, down her back, working the heel of his hand against her vertebrae. “You’re not in this alone anymore, sweetheart.” With his arm around her hip, he hitched her closer to him, her thigh resting along the length of his, side by side. “Put your head on my shoulder, Elly. Rest for a few minutes. You can shut your eyes. Nobody’s going to sneak up on you while I’m here.”

  In the brilliant night-lights of the ring, his hair shone so golden that it hurt her eyes, and obediently, she shut them, surrendering to the promise in his eyes. He would keep her and Tommy safe. She could sleep for a few minutes, sleep until the fireworks. She was safe. Royal was there.

  Royal didn’t think he could bear that last, confused glance Elly gave him as she yielded to sleep. Running on empty, she’d looked at him with such wariness and despair—and trust. He took a deep, toe-curling breath. Beneath the wariness, there had been that faint, ambivalent trust.

  She made him think of a starving, tiny cat he’d found in a drainage tunnel the spring he was ten. Leaving deep, bloody gouges in his arms, the cat had clawed him, her eyes wild with fear and distrust as he tried to pet her. Not much more than a kitten herself, she was pregnant, her ribs showing above her distended belly. All gold eyes and scrawny body, she hissed and spit, her tail spiky with fear and terror. He’d backed out of the tunnel, but every day he took food to her, coaxing her closer, letting her grow accustomed to him.

  Her distrust stronger than her hunger, she never let him touch her. But
the food was always gone the next day. On his last day home from military school, he found her with her three kittens. Two were dead. The third, a minute scrap of black fur, looked up at him blindly, its head bobbing and weaving on the thin stem of its neck.

  Reaching out for the small cat he’d named Goldie, he touched her for the first time. The tip of her nose was burning hot, and he must have spoken or cried out. Something. Snarling and yowling, she’d thrown herself at him, scratching and clawing his face and neck as she jumped over him to the entrance of the tunnel and freedom.

  Not knowing better, only desperate to save her, he grabbed at her. In her frenzy, she shot straight out of the edge of the creek bed into the path of an oncoming car.

  Sobbing, he’d carried Goldie’s kitten home, hugging it close to his chest. The rapid patter of its tiny heart terrified him. He was all Goldie’s kitten had left in the world. The responsibility was so enormous his own heart beat in syncopation to the kitten’s as the tiny creature nuzzled at his chest.

  His parents had taken the kitten to the animal shelter. He’d overheard his mother’s shocked question, “Who knows what kind of diseases the thing has?”

  His father had said, impatience in every syllable, “You’re not going to be home to take care of him, Royal. You can’t take him with you to school. And you certainly can’t expect the maids to feed him and clean out his litter. What in heaven’s name were you thinking?”

  Weak and malnourished, Goldie’s kitten died before they took it to the shelter, its tiny claws tickling the palm of his hand in one final movement that broke Royal’s heart for the last time.

  Now, even twenty-eight years later, Royal felt the prickle of anger and an old grief in his eyes. Like Goldie, Elly was wary, taking what he offered only on her terms.

  He was all she had, whether she knew it or not. And, like the ten-year-old boy he’d been, he was doing everything he could to coax her close enough to save her. But he wasn’t a boy, and she wasn’t a feral kitten. The situation was complicated by adult issues, adult needs.

  Anything could happen.

  Royal wanted to run from the rodeo ring as fast as he could. What had he done, taking on the responsibility for their lives? Who was he to play God?

  He’d had the gall to meddle in Elly’s life. She might have done better on her own. Without his interference, she might have managed the same way Goldie would have. Through determination and raw instinct.

  He glanced down at Tommy. Mouth open, the boy gave a soft snore, turned and wiggled his head against her breast. And still asleep, Elly tightened her arms around her son, her body shifting to accommodate him. “Shh, honey,” she said, turning her own face into Royal’s chest.

  “Oh, God,” he groaned, doubt squeezing him. “Why didn’t I leave well enough alone? Did I do the right thing for you, Elly? For your son?”

  No one answered him. Not God. Not Elly.

  In the ring below him, thousand-pound hooves thundered on the ground, men grunted and buzzers raucously signaled the end of each trial. In minutes, the lights would be turned off, and the fireworks display would begin.

  Royal tried not to think about the repercussions of what he’d set in motion, tried not to think about the moment when he’d have to tell Elly. When he did, she’d never look at him again with that faint glimmer of trust. He hoped she wouldn’t panic and run straight into the path of danger.

  He bent down and kissed her forehead. The sweet scent of her hair rose to him. “Elly, wake up. It’s almost time to make our exit, sweetheart.”

  She came awake instantly and silently. “I’m ready.” Her gaze clung to his, waiting.

  The lights dimmed, flickered. “Ladies and gentlemen, in three minutes, prepare yourselves for the greatest display of pyrotechnical wonder in the whole Sunshine State! But first, a round of applause for our winners in tonight’s rodeo events. In first place with the highest overall score is Buck Tyler out of Okeechobee! First place in bronco-busting goes to Hank Tyler, Buck’s baby brother! And finally, making it a clean sweep for the Tyler family, T.J., from right down the road in Tarpon City, will be cartin’ home that big ol’ bull-riding trophy. Let’s give it up for those rough, tough riders, folks!” The metallic voice let out a yell that reverberated through the air.

  Under the roar of applause, Royal told her what they were going to do.

  “Jump from the seats?” She swallowed and lifted her chin with determination. “Okay.”

  Royal scrutinized her. “I know you don’t like heights. And this will be a long drop, but I’ll be there to catch you. It’s safe. I won’t drop you. Can you do this, Elly?”

  “I’ll do it.” Her mouth was grim. “I can.”

  “Good,” He smiled. “When I tap your arm, that means I’m out of here. You slide out of your seat and head to the last seat on the end of our row. I’ll go first. When I’m on the ground, you drop Tommy to me. You’ll have to trust me with him, Elly. You can’t swing down the tiers carrying him.”

  She nodded. “Go on.”

  “When I have Tommy, then it’s your turn. Slide over the edge and drop straight into my arms. Doesn’t that sound romantic, sugar? Falling into my arms?”

  “Sure.” Scarcely paying attention to his teasing, she was gathering her reserves.

  Royal grinned. Anybody who’d bet against Elly Malloy would be taking a sucker bet. She would be ready. Adrenaline pumped hard through him as he waited the final minutes. They would make it. Their pursuers hadn’t left the stations they’d taken near the entrance and exit gates. They’d remain there. They had no reason to expect Elly and him to take a more unconventional exit.

  The second explosion of red and green burst above them. Elly flinched, Tommy sighed, “Cool,” and Royal nudged her.

  “Now, Elly. Move!”

  The woman could move. In the darkness following the dying sparks, she was right on his tail.

  Ducking under the metal rail, Royal dropped over the edge of the top seat. Hanging from the top tier, he swung himself down the seats. Bending his knees, he let go and landed in a crouching position on the ground and straightened, looking up.

  Lit by the flashing colors of the next series of fireworks. Elly’s face peered at him. He nodded and, that fast, she held Tommy over the edge and let go.

  The kid fell like a sack of potatoes into his arms. “You got good hands, too, Royal. That was fun. Let’s do it again.”

  Royal set him on the ground. “It’s your mom’s turn now, Tommy Lee. You hang on to my leg and don’t let go, no matter what I do, hear?”

  “Yep.” Chubby arms grabbed and held on to him.

  A flutter of pink caught Royal’s eye in the darkness as Elly sat on the edge of the wooden seats. And then she was in his arms. He caught her around the shoulders and rear, her body plummeting straight to him, magnet to magnet. “Good woman. I knew you wouldn’t chicken out.” Turning her to him, he slid her down the length of his body, her stomach pressing against his chest, his belly, her thighs against his, and the touch of her body on his left a trail of fire and need.

  She stood before him, her forehead resting on his chest, her breathing shaky as she brought herself under control.

  Her breasts trembled into him, a sweet motion that shot heat right to his groin, and there in the brilliant blues and greens of a Fourth of July fireworks, he kissed her with all the despairing and useless passion in his aching heart.

  And wanted more. Needed everything.

  Her mouth yielded, returned his kiss, alchemized it into a kiss of hope and redemption, her lips moving against his eagerly.

  Lifting his mouth, he stared at hem.

  “I’m sorry, Elly.” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. Not for kissing her, for touching hem. No, never that. Maybe for all that she’d been through, for the ordeal yet to come. A flood of feeling left him inarticulate, stole all his easy teasing and left him only those meaningless words. “Forgive me.”

  *

  Chapter 11
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  “Everybody set?” Beau Bienvenue’s smooth voice came from the driver’s seat.

  “Take off. We’re in.” Royal spoke into her ear, and she shivered at his rough tone. “Glad you remembered to short out the interior lights.”

  “Naturally.” Amusement rippled in that honey-soft voice, and Elly decided that Leesha was a lucky woman indeed if she got to listen to that deep voice whispering sweet nothings to her all night long. “I’m careful, Royal. I don’t take chances.”

  “Yeah. It’s a wonder we’re friends … you so boring and all.” Royal’s chest vibrated at her back as he squeezed himself in behind her.

  Squashed together on the floor in the back of Beau’s squad car, Elly felt the shift of Royal’s thigh against her fanny. He worked his long legs to either side of hers and clasped his arms around her waist. In front of her, Tommy hummed tunelessly to himself, his back braced against her knees.

  She decided to accept the humming as a good sign. He could have been screaming, or, worse, silent and clinging. But somehow, he’d picked up on Royal’s devil-may-care attitude and decided they were playing a game. During their race to the temporary fence separating the fairgrounds from the parking lot, he’d giggled as Royal shoved him under one arm and called him a football. Giving Tommy back to her, Royal jumped up and caught the top of the fence, bending it down and holding it by force.

  Stepping into his outstretched hand for leverage, she scrambled over in an undignified heap and waited. Still holding the top edge of the pliable fence down, Royal handed Tommy to her and then vaulted over himself.

  And then in a mad race of firecrackers and explosions, they dashed to Beau’s car, Tommy giggling and laughing all the way. For those brief seconds, Elly had wanted to laugh, too.

  Royal’s kiss had sent her body into another world where exhaustion and fear seemed the illusion, and his touch the only reality, his energy pulsing through her like a glittering stream. Pulling away, he’d laughed. “Race time, folks.”