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Authors: Jodi Thomas

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Charley
April 7

B
Y
THE
TIME
Charley got back to the ranch, his mind was full of what had to be done. He was working far more than his fifty hours a week, and Jubilee was right there by his side. Now, with a little extra capital, they could hire more help, buy a few more head, build onto the barn and enlarge the corrals.

To his surprise, two vans were parked in front of the big house. Apparently his call to Mason last night had convinced the man to send for his wife.

All Charley had said when Mason answered his office phone was, “I'm loading up cattle now. I should deliver about forty head by midafternoon.”

Destiny's husband had asked Charley to repeat what he said, then shouted, “I didn't order any shipment.”

“I know, but if I have to take care of your wife and sons, I figured it only fair that you take care of my cattle.”

When Mason didn't say a word, Charley added details. “Most of the calves are half-wild, but you'll get them settled down before the next load makes it to you. They'll be grazing on your front lawn in no time.”

Mason yelled, “You're insane. I didn't want her to leave. I can't handle cattle at my office or home. I'll call the police. I'll sue you.”

“Why?” Charley said calmly. “I didn't sue you or call the police when you sent me Destiny and the twins.”

Charley could hear Mason stomping around as he cussed. Finally, he stilled and said calmly, “I'm coming after my wife.”

“Good,” Charley answered. “See you soon.”

Charley smiled as he parked near the barn.

The minute he stepped out of the truck he saw Jubilee running toward him. “They're packing!” she shouted.

He swung her around, laughing. “Any chance she'll be back?”

“I don't think so. She hated the sight of guns over the doors and having only one bathroom drove her mad. Then last night one of the twins ate a lightning bug. That seemed to be the straw that crumbled her determination to stay. That and Mason calling, begging her to come back. He even promised a vacation. I find it hard to believe, but the man said he missed her.”

Thatcher hopped out onto the porch, demanding to know what was going on. “The deputy left as soon as the vans pulled up. I don't have anyone to talk to.”

Charley set Jubilee down and turned to Thatcher. “The company in the big house is moving out but you're staying right here.”

“In the past four days I've read a dozen Westerns.” Thatcher leaned on the porch railing. “I'm bored for the first time in my life. I can't believe I'm saying this but I want to go to school.”

Charley knew Thatcher was telling the truth.

It took them an hour to get him dressed and change his bandage, but Charley drove him into town. “It's almost lunchtime, That. Don't you think you could wait one more day to go back to school?”

“No, lunch seems about the right time to get there.”

When Charley let him out in front of the cafeteria windows, Thatcher took his time, walking slow, leaning on the crutch.

Some kid came out the glass door on the cafeteria side of the building, took one look at Thatcher and ran back in. A minute later, kids were running toward him as if he was a rock star who had come to visit.

As Charley watched, Kristi Norton ran up and hugged him. Thatcher put his arm around her as if he needed support on his good side, then they were lost in the crowd.

Charley pulled away, smiling, and headed back home. He doubted Thatcher would have any problem making friends now.

Charley turned his mind back to work. They had until fall, and everything needed to figure into the balance. The weather—specifically, the amount of rainfall—the health of the animals, grass fires and a hundred other variables.

For the first time in four days, he had nothing to worry about but getting work done.

At the end of the day, when Thatcher came home in the front of Deputy Weathers's cruiser, Charley had a feeling he probably had Kristi's phone number on speed dial. After supper, he asked Jubilee if she knew how to cut hair.

Charley wasn't surprised when she said, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

She set up her barbershop on the front porch and cut the kid's hair, then they both helped him into bed. He'd been brave all day, but now he was almost asleep on his one good leg.

The house seemed settled that night. Thatcher was healing and Lillie was back home. She'd talked so much about her adventures with her grandparents that she'd fallen asleep at the dinner table. Thatcher looked just as worn out.

“He's a good kid,” Charley whispered. “Never complains.”

“I have a feeling he was raised where complaining didn't do much good,” Jubilee added.

As soon as Charley turned out the living room light, she motioned him to the porch.

“Sit.” She pointed to the stool. “You're next.”

He thought of arguing, but the minute she moved close, he changed his mind. He widened his legs so she could stand in front of him, loving the way she moved as she worked. Her body brushed his ever so lightly now and then as she played with his hair. He liked having her so close.

Neither had said a word about her moving back to her house. He thought he'd tell her he still needed her to take care of Thatcher, but the kid was like ivy. He didn't seem to need much except water and food.

Charley watched as she circled around him, her hair now down and flowing below her shoulders like a cape. Maybe she'd stay if he asked. He'd do his best to follower her blanket rule. Maybe she'd stay. Maybe not.

A fire was building in him. He had to fight to not touch her as she moved around the stool, playing with his hair, bumping against his leg or arm or shoulder.

“I could do this all night,” he whispered.

“You wouldn't have any hair left.”

“I wouldn't care,” he answered.

A whistling sound came from the direction of the road and Charley knew they were no longer alone. “The men are coming in.”

She moved away as he pulled the towel off his shoulders and went to meet the cowhands he'd left on guard at the gate.

“Nothing, boss,” one said, even before Charley made out his face in the shadows.

“Quiet all the way to the next ranch,” the other added. “No stranger has been on your land tonight.”

Charley had been running patrols for four nights now, and they hadn't seen one thing out of place. If someone was coming after Thatcher, they were taking their time. Maybe they didn't know where he was, or maybe they didn't see him as a threat.

“You want us to come back tomorrow?”

“Not to guard.” Charley decided. “It's all quiet. I'm thinking we were worried about nothing.” He shook the men's hands. “But if you want to keep working for me, I could use a few good men. Daylight hours this time. We're bringing more head in tomorrow and I'll have my hands full.”

“I'll take you up on that. My wife says I'm too old to rodeo anymore, and I'm beginning to think she's right.”

The other man agreed. He'd take the work whether it was night guard or cowboying for the Lone Heart brand.

“Then I'll see you both at dawn tomorrow. We'll be branding.”

“Fair enough,” they both said at once.

The men disappeared into the darkness, and Charley heard the roar of a truck pulling away from the side of the barn.

Deputy Weathers said there would be a patrol of the road tonight. That should be enough, but Charley had a feeling he'd still sleep light. If any vehicle crossed the cattle guard turning off the road, he'd hear it from his place. He'd be on the porch with a rifle in hand before they could reach his door.

He walked back to the house thinking how peaceful it was now that all the women in the main house were gone. No walking babies crying. No phones ringing. No echoes of Destiny yelling for help.

He passed the barn, thinking that silence was a great sound.

Movement drew his eye to one of the stalls. He walked over and saw Jubilee brushing down the colt she called Baby.

When she noticed him, she held the brush up. “Show me how to do this again, would you? I'm afraid I'll hurt the colt.”

He stepped behind her and reached around to lay his hand over where she held the brush. Slowly, in long strokes he showed her how to work with the tiny colt.

“He's still got his milk coat. You'll want to go easy for a while.”

As they worked, Charley almost felt as if he was dancing with Jubilee. Their bodies were touching, their movements in rhythm. He took a deep breath, loving the smell of her soft hair.

Finally, she turned and faced him as she dropped the brush. She looked up, her brown eyes liquid with a need, her mouth slightly open.

Charley couldn't resist. He touched his lips to hers, lightly tasting her as his arm went around her waist and pulled her closer against him. This time it was his turn to kiss her, and he wanted to take his time.

He felt her chest push against his with every breath, as he kissed her tenderly. If he had his way, they'd have a lifetime, and he planned to take his time remembering every touch, every kiss.

She felt boneless in his arms as she swayed. He moved her arms to his shoulders so he could deliberately slide his hands down the sides of her body. Each time he stroked her, he passed closer to her breasts and lower over her hips. No woman had ever felt so right in his arms.

Another pass down her body. His thumbs brushed over the tips of her breasts lightly and she opened her mouth in a sigh. His hands moved lower, holding her as he kissed her deeper.

Without letting her go, he moved to her ear and whispered, “Sleep with me tonight.”

“All right,” she answered.

“No, don't just sleep. Make love to me tonight.”

She smiled a low heated smile and whispered, “Not a chance. I plan on torturing you for a while. I think you're a man women come easy to, but not this time.”

She pressed against him as if teasing him, then kissed him with a passion that made him forget to breathe. He guessed she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she couldn't know that he wanted far more than just a night.

Maybe she didn't believe in herself when it came to love. Only this time all she had to believe in was them.

Maybe this time she'd commit that big heart she swore she didn't have. Charley had no idea how he'd handle it if she made love to him and walked away.

It seemed all his adult life he'd been fighting to get up to level ground. He'd felt old by the time he turned twenty-one, but not now, not with Jubilee. With her, everything seemed new. He thought in terms of possible. He dared to believe in someday. He longed to taste a passion that would last a lifetime.

When he finally pulled away to look in her eyes, he whispered, “Promise me, if you're not going to sleep with me tonight that you'll keep torturing me?”

“Promise.” She smiled. “I've never felt like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I might die if you didn't hold me.”

He kissed her cheek. “I feel the same way. And I understand. We wait. We make sure. We let the fire build.” His hand spread out over her bottom. “I'm betting you'll be the first to snap and attack me.”

Laughing, she pressed against him. “And if I do?”

Charley knew the answer. He might as well admit it. He loved this woman. There was no doubt, but all he could manage to say was, “If you attack, I have a feeling I'll surrender.”

He took her hand as he turned out the barn light and they walked toward the house.

Thatcher was asleep. The ranch was alive with only the sounds of the night. The house was full of the smells of home.
This time
, he thought,
this time I'm not going to mess loving up.

He set her on their bed and removed her boots; then, fully dressed, she slid under the covers. Without a word, he walked to the other side and tugged his boots off, then lay down atop the blankets.

He couldn't touch her. If he did, he wasn't sure he'd ever stop. He just lay still and tried to figure out what moment he'd fallen for her. He knew she wasn't asleep. Her breathing was quick and every few minutes she shifted as if trying to get comfortable.

“Jubilee,” he finally whispered. “I'm not saying this because I want you to answer, but I think you should know I'm in love with you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

He forced himself not to move for a while, then he added, “And don't even think of giving me any of that crap about you not having a heart. I've seen your heart with Thatcher and Lillie. I've felt it pressed against mine. You're going to wake up one morning and realize you love me, too, and I'll be right here beside you waiting.”

She didn't comment. Her breathing had slowed. She wasn't settling.

Jubilee had gone to sleep right in the middle of his declaration.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Lauren
April 7

W
HEN
THE
DOCTOR
said Pop could go home in the morning, Lauren thought her dad would get out of bed and dance. He wasn't a man who took to hospitals easily. Since the day he woke up in his right mind, he'd been working hard to get out of this place he thought of as a prison.

The doctor pulled Lauren into the hall and explained that she'd have to go home today and have everything set up for him by morning. “The trip will be hard on him. He'll be tired and need everything in place when he gets there. If he had one injury, or even two, it wouldn't be such a problem, but he was dealing with four, any one of which could have knocked him off his feet for weeks on its own.”

So by noon she was on her way back to Crossroads with a truck following her that was packed with equipment, a hospital bed and everything she'd need to make their living room into part gym and part hospital room.

Pop said he didn't care as long as he could look out the window and see the water.

While the movers set up the bed and all the bars and weights to help him build back his strength, she cleaned house. When they left, she went to the store and tried to stock up on everything she might need. She bought two of everything, just in case.

Lauren was on a mission. She'd decided she was going to take care of her Pop until he was healed and back at work.

She'd talked to all her professors at Tech. They'd heard about the sheriff on the news and were all happy to help. One said if she'd take a B, he'd count her done with his class. Another wanted her to turn in two more papers before finals. She could email them, and she could finish the other two classes simply by passing the final. For the first time in her life, grades were not that important. She'd have her degree and she'd be able to stay with her pop.

Polly said she'd come down on weekends and help. She'd complained that nothing had happened between her and Tim the night he'd taken her home and she wanted another shot at him. So Lauren hugged her roommate goodbye and left, with all the stuff that had surrounded her in the dorm now packed away in boxes.

By the time Lauren bought the groceries and got back to the lake house, it was almost dark. She planned to get to bed early and then drive back to Lubbock before dawn. She knew an ambulance would be bringing her pop home, but she wanted to follow. Her job now was to watch over him, just as he'd watched over her all her life.

Once she got him settled in, she knew there would be a physical therapist dropping by every other day and a home nurse checking his wounds, and probably every deputy and sheriff in the area would be coming by to talk. Add the townsfolk to that mix, and she might want to think about putting in a revolving door.

When a shadow crossed the window in the back door, Lauren jumped. Her first thought was she wished that huge deputy who always hung out at the hospital was with her now.

Then she spotted the lanky form and the red hair. Tim.

When she let him in, he held up two bags. “Dinner.”

She smiled and hugged him, remembering that she hadn't eaten all day.

“I love what you've done with the place,” he said as she dug into the hamburger bag.

“Did you bring fries?”

“I did, and malts.”

“I love you, Tim O'Grady.”

“I know. How could you not?” He sat across from her and they devoured the food. He told her all about what was going on in town. He was now on a first-name basis with a few deputies, but he seemed reluctant to tell her details.

Maybe he had none, she thought, or maybe something was up that Tim didn't want her, or her father, to know about yet.

Tim promised that as soon as he broke the burlap man's case, he'd turn his attention to her father's shooting.

“Crimes are piling up and nothing's getting solved. First, there's a filing cabinet of information on the dead guy, most of it probably worthless. Second, we've found a few footprints and shells from the shooting of the mustangs but nothing that will help us solve the crime. Add the third crime, your father's ambush, to the mess and I've got more than I can handle. I moved my whiteboards into the county courtroom. Judge says I'll have to take it all down if a trial comes along.” He took a bite and continued, “That's not likely to happen if we don't solve something.”

“So, Sherlock, what is the plan?” She'd always been able to tell when Tim was hiding something.

“I'm not saying, but I'm about to do some serious investigating. Charley Collins and I were tossing around some ideas.”

“What?” she asked. “When did you see Charley?”

“I'll fill you in later.”

Before she could ask more, he changed the subject. “Did you know there was a hippy colony out there in the Breaks years ago? I talked to a few people who remembered them. All peace and tattoos. Our guy could have been part of them.”

“Or not,” she added.

“Or not,” he agreed. “But it's exciting digging into the history of this place and all the things that happened in the past that no one today cares about.”

Once the food was gone and the sun had set, Lauren realized how tired she was. She walked Tim to the back door and pointed him toward his house. “Go,” she said. “Work on your novel. I want to say I knew you before you were a big-time writer.”

Before he stepped down off the deck, he pulled her into a hug. “You're going to make it through this, L. I've got faith in you. In a few months your dad will be back at work.”

“Thanks,” she said snuggling into one of his wonderful bear hugs. “I couldn't have made it without you being there every day. You're the best friend anyone could ask for.”

Tim leaned down and kissed her lips just as he'd done so many times before. Only this time, Lauren kissed him back. Maybe she didn't want to be alone. Or maybe she just wanted to feel something besides worry. She felt as though she'd been emotionally beat up, and tonight she needed a little tenderness to heal.

He pulled an inch away. “Did you mean to do that, L?”

“I did.” She had made up her mind. Just because Lucas didn't want her didn't mean that she had to die inside. She could still feel. She could still react to a man caring about her.

Tim kissed her again, deeper, and she melted against him, needing his warmth after all she'd gone through. She felt as if she'd lived years, and now was an old soul in a young body. It wasn't that she'd learned anything. It was more as if she'd discovered that she knew nothing.

Nothing about life. Nothing about love. Nothing about herself.

Lost in her own thoughts she barely realized she was no longer participating in the kiss until Tim pulled away.

“You're not into this, are you, L?”

“Sorry. I thought I could be, but maybe I'm too tired.”

“Or maybe I'm not the right man.” Tim's smile didn't reach his eyes. “I probably never will be. With you, I'll always be just a friend.”

“Is that so bad?”

He shook his head. “With my track record with girls, this will probably be the longest relationship I'll ever have. So, being your friend isn't so bad.”

She kissed his cheek and watched as he walked away.

Halfway between their houses, she noticed he gave in to his limp. Tim was now only a shadow against the shoreline. She knew he wanted there to be more between them, but she couldn't force something that wasn't meant to be.

She also knew he still hoped. That was why, now and then, he kissed her.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
as she walked toward her Pop's room, all she could think about was that she wouldn't hurt Tim the way Lucas had hurt her.

She'd put her love for Lucas in a box, waiting for him to open it, and she'd put Tim in a box that said he was nothing more than a best friend. Now when she'd reacted to Tim's kiss last night, she'd mixed up the boxes and had no idea how to straighten them out.

When this was over, she'd talk to Tim and let him know how much he meant to her as a friend. A friend. Never more.

Pop was sitting up in bed ready to put his clothes on when she walked into his hospital room. Lauren did what she always did with her emotions. She pushed them aside to think about another time.

“That's impossible,” the nurse was explaining.

Pop just glared at her. He had one leg bandaged above the knee and below the knee was a cast. His shoulder was wrapped up and his arm was in a sling. “How do you think you are going to get into your clothes?”

“Well, I'm not going out in a hospital gown.” Pop was starting to look like a wild man. “If the nurse hadn't cut off my uniform, I'd be wearing it out. You know, when I got shot I didn't think to take an overnight bag to the ambush.”

“We can put one gown on the front and another on the back. No one will see anything.”

Pop didn't back down. “Oh, yes they will. They'll see an idiot wearing two hospital gowns.”

“Well.” The nurse puffed up. “I guess you'll have to stay here until you're healed.”

“I'm not staying here one day longer. The doctors say I can go and I'm going. I've got three open cases that need solving.”

“In hospital gowns,” she added as if this was the O.K. Corral and she wasn't backing down. “Or you will not be leaving.”

“No.” He stood his ground.

Lauren saw the possibility of this argument lasting all day. Her Pop was off most of the painkillers and was trapped-badger-level angry. She thought of cutting a blanket and putting it over his head, but that probably wasn't much better than the two-gown idea.

The beefy deputy who had been watching over her father for a week finally stepped into the room. Lauren had been falling over his size fourteen shoes for days. She'd asked him several times if he couldn't go back to whatever he did and let some thinner, or at least smaller, deputy cover the hospital.

Deputy Weathers usually just smiled and told her he put in for this duty.

If he was there as guard, she finally rationalized that both she and Pop could stand behind him if trouble stormed the door, so maybe he was worth putting up with.

“What's the problem?” he asked as if he couldn't have heard them from the minute he got off the elevator.

Pop spoke first. “They want me to roll out of here in a hospital gown. I'd rather not see that on the news tonight and the hospital can't promise the cameras outside won't get a shot.”

Weathers gave a Santa Claus smile. “I've already thought of that.”

“Good,” Pop said as if that was all he needed to know. Problem solved.

The nurse wasn't so agreeable. “And what might your plan be, Deputy Weathers?”

The deputy smiled. “I brought him a pair of my sweats from the academy.”

He pulled out the biggest navy blue sweatshirt and pants Lauren had ever seen from a bag. “They're big enough to fit over the cast and the bandages. I had to have them ordered special when I started the academy.”

The nurse gave up.

Lauren and Weathers slowly pulled the clothes over her father's hospital gown. Once he was in the wheelchair it didn't seem so noticeable that another person could have fit in his clothes with him.

Sheriff Dan Brigman rolled out of the hospital with his dignity intact.

BOOK: Lone Heart Pass
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