Loving a Lawman (11 page)

“Yeah,” she said. “I do and I also know you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She gave him that mysterious smile he knew so well. “You're a smart man. You'll figure it out. Now, when do I start?”

*   *   *

S
o you're heading to Denver?” Jessie asked an hour and a half later as Chase walked her to the front porch. She tried not to compare the way Chase walked her to the door to the way Seth did. They were two different days, two different dates, two different men.

Seth had the obvious advantage. It had been dark, romantic, and he had taken charge and kissed her like he meant it. Maybe he even did.

“Big ride tomorrow.” Chase gave her that trademark smile that had charmed her all these years. Today it just made her wish she had danced more with Seth at Manny's.

Jessie nodded. She never had a chance to talk to Chase about Seth. She wasn't even sure Chase would care. “Be careful,” she said.

“You know it. Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. “Here's your money back.”

She frowned. “Money from what?”

He shifted from side to side as if suddenly uncomfortable. “My truck. Seth had the bat dusted and found out that some guy from Amarillo trashed it.”

She looked at the envelope, thumbed through the contents. It was the same money that she had given Seth not so long ago.

“Seems this guy has a friend riding in the competition. I guess they wanted to keep me out of the game.”

“I suppose,” Jessie murmured.

He shoved his hands into his front pockets and stared at the ground. “Sorry I accused you and everything.”

“It's okay,” she said, a bit numb with shock. Chase had thought her guilty, while Seth had done everything in his power to make her confess the truth. Not only that. He was so confident in her innocence that he had squirreled the money away until he had proof.

Chase bussed her cheek and loped back down the steps.

Jessie watched as he swung himself up into his truck. The whole town thought she was guilty. Yet Seth knew she wasn't. He was the only one. Her champion. She waved to Chase. Seth had believed in her. Really and truly believed in her.

Chase gave her a little salute in return and backed out onto Larkspur Lane.

With a sigh, Jessie tucked the money into her purse, then let herself in the house.

“Meemaw, I'm home.” She put her hat on the stand by the front door and dropped her bag next to it. “Meemaw?”

Only the hum of the window unit Jessie had set up in the parlor greeted her. Not even one of her grandmother's answering coughs.

She must be asleep
. Jessie eased into the parlor, careful not to wake her.

Her grandmother was slumped in her chair, her neck at an uncomfortable angle. A glass lay on the floor at her feet, a large water stain surrounding it.

“Meemaw?” she whispered, even as the truth penetrated her veil of denial. “Oh, Meemaw.” Jessie collapsed onto her knees, taking her grandmother's gnarled hands into her own. Tears burned her eyes as she pressed a kiss onto the backs of her fingers. Jessie laid her head in her grandmother's lap as her tears started to fall.

She had been afraid this would happen. Her Meemaw had died without anyone around. Jessie hadn't even gotten to say good-bye. Now the regrets piled on her one by one.
If only she hadn't gone out. If only she had checked her grandmother's medication. If only, if only, if only . . .

She allowed herself a few minutes to sink into her sorrow. There was so much to do that she couldn't give herself the luxury of a good long cry. She had calls to make, people to contact. So many things to do. But first she needed help.

She picked up the phone and called Seth.

T
hey buried Naomi McAllen on the first rainy day they'd had in nearly six weeks.

Seth stood under the tent next to Jessie as they lowered her grandmother into the ground. The rain tapped out a soft rhythm as they stood side by side, though not touching. Jessie's posture was brittle as if she was barely holding herself together.

But somehow she managed as everyone filed back to her house to eat the casseroles, corn bread, and pie.

Other than her father whom nobody had ever seen, Naomi was Jessie's last family. Seth had no idea what it would feel like to be all alone in the world. He couldn't imagine. Though he did remember the sense of abandonment he had when his own father had died. Seeing as how he had four brothers, a mother, and three grandparents living at the time, he could only imagine how alone Jessie felt.

“Thank you for coming,” Jessie said as she walked Seth's mother and grandmother to the door. They were among the last to leave the wake, which left only Seth.

His mother shot him a look behind Jessie's back, one of concern and love.

Seth replied with a silent nod and watched as Jessie shut the door behind them.

She leaned back against it and closed her eyes. She held her shoulders at a tired angle, but somehow he knew she wouldn't break down. Not now. Not yet.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Her eyes snapped open as if she had forgotten for a moment that she wasn't alone. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the door. “I guess I better clean up this mess.”

She produced a ponytail holder from who knew where and scooped her strawberry blond curls into a high spout on the top of her head. Then she brushed past him into the kitchen. Her steps quickened as if somehow she could run from whatever was dogging her heels.

Seth followed, finding her tying a worn apron over her gray dress. He knew for a fact that his mother had taken her on the shopping trip to buy the clothes she was wearing. And even with its elegant lines, Jessie had paired it with her black cowboy boots. She'd shed those as soon as they walked into the door after the funeral. Now she stood with her bare feet on the worn linoleum. Her toenails were painted bright pink and snagged his attention. How many times had he seen her feet? Countless, if he factored in all the hours they had spent as almost-family members swimming in the pool at the ranch house or down at the lake, but he never remembered her having pink toenails. Nor did he ever remember really seeing them. He'd made love to her and he hadn't even seen her feet?

“You don't have to do this now, Jess.”

There wasn't a mess. The ladies' auxiliary from the Baptist church had seen to that. All the food had been put away, the trash taken out, and the dishes washed. All that was left to do was dry and put them away.

“It's okay. It won't take but a minute.” She whirled
around to face the sink and flipped on the water with one deft flick of her wrist.

“I think you should sit down for a little bit,” he said, even though he understood. If Jessie sat down she'd have way too much time to think, but he had to know she was going to be okay before he left. If he left.

“Linda Sue did the dishes.” She made a face. “I used to work with her at the Chuck Wagon. Not the neatest person.”

He came up behind her and turned off the water, so aware that he had trapped her between himself and the cabinet. How easy it would be to spin her around and take her into his arms and kiss her as he should have the other day. Kiss her and cherish her the way she should be kissed and cherished.

She looked up at him, her eyes stormy and confused. “I don't want to sit down,” she admitted. Her voice cracked on the last bit. “She's gone, and I can't just sit down.”

The tears that she had held in all day rose into her eyes. She blinked them away, but more took their place.

He hated to see her cry. He hated to see her in pain. Especially when he could do nothing to ease that ache in her heart. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She was warm and sweet and sobbing.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “It'll be okay.”

Her arms snaked around his back and fisted in his shirt as if to hold him close and never let him go. “I can't believe she's gone.”

“She's in a better place, Jessie.”

“I know,” she sobbed. “That's why it's so wrong of me to wish she was here.”

He smoothed a hand over her hair, loving the feel of the springy curls against his fingers. “It's not wrong of you. It's only natural. I think it would be wrong if you didn't feel that way.”

With her hands still tangled in the back of his shirt, she
lifted her head from his chest, her gaze locking with his. “You do?”

“I do.”

In a flash, the moment of grief turned into a moment of intimacy. He smoothed her hair back from her face, fighting with every fiber of his being not to lean in and kiss her lips. It was a short battle.

He lowered his head slowly to give her plenty of time to tell him no, push him away, but instead she reached up on her tiptoes and met him halfway.

Unlike the kiss from that day in the truck, this one was soft and sweet. With his lips he tried to tell her how sorry he was, how much he loved her, and how he would always be there for her. He wasn't sure if she got the message. Those were words he couldn't say out loud. He could only hope that somehow her mind interpreted what he longed to say.

Seth lifted his head, knowing that if he stayed much longer, it wouldn't stop with kissing. Now was not the time or the place. She was too vulnerable, too filled with grief. He couldn't take advantage of her again. He stepped back, but she pulled him close once again.

“Seth,” she breathed. Her head was tilted back, her eyes half-closed. She looked wondrous and lovely, and Seth wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and find some soft place to lay her down. “Stay here tonight.”

It was the invitation he'd been waiting for half his life. But it was also the one he couldn't accept.

He set her from him, jarring that desirous look from her face. She didn't know what she was asking. He couldn't be the one to take advantage. “I don't think you should be alone tonight, Jessie. But I can't stay here. Why don't you go out to the ranch and spend the night?”

Her expression snapped back to attention as if she had realized where she was, who she was with, and all the events of the last few days. She shook her head. “No, that
was silly of me to ask.” She scoffed, letting out a sad little laugh that was more derisive than anything else. “I'll be fine. Really.” She turned away from him and faced the sink once again, flipping on the water as if the last moments between them had never happened.

“I'd feel better if you went to the ranch, Jessie. That way, you'll be there if you need anything.”

She didn't bother to turn back around as she answered, “I won't need anything, Seth.”

“Jessie, I—” He was always messing up where she was concerned.

“I said I'll be all right.” She scraped all the previously washed silverware into the sink and tipped in a dollop of dish soap.

As far as he could tell, it looked clean, and he couldn't imagine the ladies' auxiliary leaving her anything to do. But he knew how she felt. If she sat down the memories would come. It was always that way.

Her back was stiff, her posture brittle. Only her pride kept her upright. And if there was one thing she had, it was pride.

“Jessie,” he started again.

“Hmmm?” She didn't turn around to face him.

“What are you going to do?”

“I told you, Seth. I'm going to do these dishes, then take a nice long bath.”

“No. What are you going to
do
?”

She stopped washing the silverware but didn't turn to face him. “Meemaw had a reverse mortgage. The bank will take over the house and I'm going . . . somewhere.”

He moved closer so he could see her face, possibly read her expression. “Where?”

She shrugged and continued washing dishes, sparing him only the briefest of glances. “Somewhere. I don't know.”

“So you're still leaving town?”

“There's nothing for me here.”

I am,
he wanted to shout, but he couldn't say those words. He understood her reasons for leaving even if he hated them.

“If you change your mind about going out to the ranch, let me know. I'll drive you.”

She nodded but didn't turn around.

“And if you need anything, you know where to find me.” He reached out to her but stopped short of making contact. She wouldn't change her mind. And she wouldn't call.

Not quite Chase's girl. Not his either.

Seth exhaled the remaining tension in his body, then blew a kiss toward her back and let himself out of the house.

*   *   *

T
wo weeks passed in something of a daze. Jessie went through all the motions: work, home, shower, repeat. Seth came by the diner every day to check on her. Every day she lied and said she was fine. Well, it wasn't really a lie. She would be fine one day, real soon.

She finished applying a touch of mascara and gave her reflection one last critical look. One day at a time, wasn't that what they said? She scooped her hair back into a ponytail and left the bathroom. She had twenty minutes to get to her shift at the Chuck Wagon.

One day at a time and one day real soon. Her mantra. For now she would live one day at a time. Then one day real soon she was going to pack up everything she deemed worthy and head out. She still hadn't figured out where she was going. Away from Cattle Creek. And for now that was enough.

Away from Seth.

Her heart gave a painful thump. The worst part of leaving Texas would be leaving him behind. He had started to mean so much to her. He came by every day to check on
her, to see her, make sure she was all right. Oh, how she would miss that. Miss him.

She wasn't sure exactly when the shift occurred, when her feelings for Chase had become something less than romantic. Or had she ever really loved him like that at all? Maybe she had simply been in love with the idea of Chase. He was larger-than-life, an American hero, a legend in his own time. Yet one day it just seemed as if all she could think about was Seth. Where he was, what he was doing. Instead of being strange, it felt as natural as the sunshine on her face. Since the funeral he had been her rock, her solid, the one person she knew she could depend on. The last two weeks had been eye-opening. When had Seth become so important to her? But the answer to that was always. He had always been there, always watched over her. Always. But only recently had that become clear.

She turned toward the calendar, as if checking to make sure it had only been fourteen days, but what she saw instead was the little flower reminder sticker she used to mark when her period was supposed to start. She gasped. She was late. Not for work. Late late. For her period.

Her stomach fell.

Probably end up pregnant.
Wasn't that what Meemaw had said?

Jessie closed her eyes, thankful that her grandmother wasn't around to see this.

Wait. Just because she was late didn't mean she was pregnant. Lots of things caused women to skip periods. Stress, pressures, unprotected sex with cowboys in the cabs of their trucks.

Her eyes flew open. She had to be wrong. This couldn't be happening. Just when she was so close to getting out of this town. This couldn't be her fate.

She refused to believe that she was pregnant. Only one way to find out. She grabbed her purse and started for the door.

*   *   *

J
essie walked into the drugstore with her chin high.
Act natural.
But her knees wanted to lock up on her and her hands trembled. Maybe she'd be better off going to the clinic and taking her chances with Shirley. The front desk receptionist wouldn't know patient confidentiality if it bit her on the behind. No, she was better off here.

She turned down the aisle of unmentionables. There was a chance if anyone saw her that they would think she was buying tampons. Best grab what she needed and get on out of Dodge. She snatched up the first pregnancy test she saw. The longer she stayed, the greater the chance that someone would spot her and say—

“Hey, Jessie.”

She whirled around as Millie Evans neared. It took all her self-restraint not to shove the box behind her back. How was that for suspicious behavior?

“I thought I saw you come in. How are you?” Concern filled Millie's voice.

Even though two weeks had passed since Meemaw's funeral, Jessie still had to endure all the looks of pity and sympathy. It was tough enough to know that she was alone in the world, but to be constantly reminded of it was more than one person should have to suffer.

“I'm fine. Thanks. Seth treating you okay at the jail?”

“I couldn't ask to work for a nicer man.” Her gaze dropped to the box Jessie held. She could only hope that her fingers were wrapped around it in such a way that Millie couldn't read it, but the size and shape ruled out anything other than what it really was. Maybe Millie was looking at something else. It wasn't like Jessie could ask her.