Ryker’s Justice (6 page)

Two
hours later, after a long tramp through the rugged forest and a short nap down
by the river, Jude returned. Hunger and fatigue had helped ease his rampant
desire, or so he thought until he walked through the back door. The delicious
aroma of simmering dumplings filled his nose and when he saw Nicole bend over
to pull a tray of biscuits from the oven, he wanted her. If he didn’t have her
soon, he’d probably die of a rock-solid hard-on and they’d have to bury him
with a pillow to hide the cock stand.

“Smells
great,” he said.

“I
hope it is.”

For
the first time in years, Jude faced another living human being across the old
table. The older he’d grown, the less often he shared a meal at home. Last time
he’d come home, he never ate at the house, so the moment evoked the past. Except
for his sisters, he struggled to recall the last woman since his mama’s time to
sit here.

If
he hadn’t been crazy deep in desire and halfway in love with Nicole, the first
bite would’ve been enough to snare him. Jude tasted the tender, fluffy dumpling
in a rich white sauce, complimented with the wild taste of the squirrel, and he
sighed with pleasure. To be sure it wasn’t a
fluke,
he
bit into a buttered biscuit half. The flaky, delicious flavor in his mouth
confirmed it—Nicole could cook.
Why
didn’t the son-of-a-bitch she married appreciate her? Any woman who can turn
out food this good should be loved and treated right.

A
worried frown cut through her forehead. “How is it?” she asked.

He
schooled his features to be sober and took another bite. Her faltering smile
wilted more and he gave up the pretense. He wouldn’t tease her, not when she’d
suffered so much from her old man. “Delicious,” he said. “I’ve never had
better, Nicole.”

Her
grin reappeared and almost blinded him with brilliance. “Thanks,” she replied.
“I’m glad you like it.”

He
ate two bowls and three biscuits. If his stomach hadn’t groaned full, Jude
would have helped himself to more. “That’s better than anything I’ve ever eaten
at Cockrell’s,” he said. “And their food is excellent.”

“I
appreciate the compliment,” Nicole said. “I didn’t make dessert. I didn’t
really have time but…”

Jude
had noticed her occasional habit of apologizing. He realized it came from years
with an emotionally abusive asshole. “You don’t need to make excuses, honey,”
he said in the gentlest tone he could summon. “It’s okay. I figured I’d buy you
a malt or ice cream sundae after the game anyway.”

“I’d
like that.”

“Then
it’s
gonna
happen. Let’s
toss the dishes in the sink and get out of here.”

Nicole
put down her spoon and placed her small hand over his big paw. “I can’t leave a
kitchen in a mess. Give me ten minutes and I’ll put it to rights, then we can
go.”

On
the way out, Jude noticed the chill since the sun had gone down. He reached for
his heavy flannel jacket,
then
realized Nicole lacked
one. “Did you bring a sweater or anything, honey?”

“Oh,
no, I didn’t think about it,” she said. “I suppose I should have.”

For
one awful moment, he thought she was about to cry.
She’s fragile, on the surface,
he decided.
But underneath, she’s strong and tough. She’s just afraid to trust
herself and I don’t think she really knows who Nicole is.
To stay any
chance of tears, he said, “I’ve got something you can wear. Hang on and I’ll be
right back.”

His
feet pounded up the stairs, two at time. Jude reached into the closet of his
boyhood room.
Don’t let it be moth-eaten
or gone
. He found the garment bag he remembered and unzipped it. A fresh
smell wafted from it as he pulled out his high school letter jacket, intact. It
still held the faint scent of dry cleaning and he carried it in his arms
downstairs.

“You
can wear this,” he said as he thrust the garment at Nicole.

“What
is it?” she asked,
then
took it from him.
“Oh, Jude!
Is it yours?”

“Yeah,
it’s mine. I doubt I have anything else that would come close to fitting but
it’ll be warm. If you’d rather not wear it, we can run by the inn on the way.”

And
he would, though it would mean a detour of at least ten miles.

“No
one ever offered me their school jacket,” Nicole said. She slid into it and
although it swam, much too large, it fit enough so she could wear it to the
game. “I like it. But, tell me the truth, will this put your brand on me in the
eyes of the community?”

It
took him a few seconds to realize she was joking. Maybe it was her exaggerated
Western drawl or the twinkle in her eyes, but when he got it, he laughed out
loud.

“Might
be, ma’am,” he said with an imaginary tip of his hat. “Do you mind?”

Nicole
smiled as she met his gaze. She made no reply as she picked up her purse and
started for the door. Jude shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his keys to
follow.

October
chill added the hint of frost to the night air. When they emerged onto the
blacktop, the trees began to be replaced with open fields. Above, the moon
commanded the sky as it rose, the color tinted with harvest orange. The stars
glistened, each a bright diamond flung into the darkness. Jude switched on the
defroster to keep the windshield clear and when he hit a rough spot in the
road, the radio, always unpredictable, blared to life.

The
high, nasal voice of Hank Williams sang across the miles and decades, as
familiar to Jude as his childhood toys. His daddy favored the singer’s classic
music and Jude had been raised with the songs as a soundtrack for their life. After
his mother’s death, his father spent many a long night playing the worn LPs on
the stereo, drinking and often crying. Hank’s melancholy music could touch a
chord deep within Jude and shred his heart. He reached for the knob to shut it
off when he realized Nicole sang along with the tune.

Each
word slashed through Jude’s emotions, sharper than a knife, and laid his soul
bare. “
I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”
hit his Achilles’ heel. He’d grown up to the sound of whip-poor-wills and he
knew the gut-wrenching kind of lonely Hank still sang about. As a little boy,
he’d cried some nights when his father repeated the song more than once. The
poignant lyrics tonight reminded him how empty his life stretched out for so
very long. Since leaving home and turning his back on college, Jude had held
tight to first the Navy, then to his job as an ATF agent. Work replaced family,
friends, and hope. Brick by invisible brick, he’d built a wall to keep out the
rest of the world because if he let them close, they possessed the power to
hurt him.

Since
his return, Jude’s family poured love into his life. His brothers’ quiet
acceptance, their wives’ welcomes, and the affection of their children had
taken root. He’d allowed himself to become friendly with the
Cockrells
and now Nicole had slipped beyond his barriers. No
matter what hurts he’d suffered, what pain he’d known, what bad hands life
might have dealt him, Jude knew he’d never suffered the way Nicole had.

She
sang the lyrics, eyes closed, her alto voice taking the words and claiming
them. Nicole made it into her song, her lament. Jude shared the raw emotions
she put into it and he wanted to weep or rage. He ached to pound the steering
wheel to vent his feelings, and he wanted to take her with such a powerful rush
of desire that he didn’t dare trust himself to share.

Without
warning, without thinking, he pulled into the parking lot of a long-closed restaurant
as gravel crunched beneath his tires. As soon the truck halted, he touched her
hand. “Stop,” he
cried,
his voice hoarse and harsh. Then
Jude twisted the radio off and silence fell between them, heavy as sin, darker
than
midnight
.

Nicole
lifted her head and faced him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Jude?” she
asked, hesitant.

Clumsy
as a bear, desperate as a drunkard in search of drink, he grasped her shoulders
and took her mouth with his. From the first impact, want triumphed over common
sense and tenderness drowned under the powerful rush of aching need. In those
moments, Jude sought to fill his emptiness, to erase his loneliness with
Nicole’s vital presence. Desperation mingled with rising desire and he kissed
her hard. Her mouth remained immobile beneath his and then yielded, her lips
meeting his with the same hungry fire. Nicole wrapped her arms around him and
held tight. Her essence, the taste of her mouth, the aroma of her hair and
skin, surrounded him and he drank deep. Their connected mouths delivered a rush
of pure emotion, enhanced with adrenalin. Jude kissed her until his lungs
protested, until his breath came short and his body burned with want.

Something
in the kiss awakened feelings he didn’t expect to have for any woman and
delivered him from the abyss of his solitary life. He tasted hope on her lips
and the impact skewered him, sharp and visceral. Everything he thought he’d
wanted and worked for changed in those moments to a new reality. Jude broke
away with more turbulent emotion than he’d had during meaningless sex. His
feelings were engaged as much as his
body,
and the
combination packed a potent punch.

He
stared at her and when she smiled, his heart twisted into a pretzel knot. “Maybe
I should sing more often,” she said.

Without
preamble, his interest in the woman shifted to a different level and his mind
reeled—stunned, surprised, but somehow pleased.
Maybe I love her,
Jude thought with a sense of wow.

“Maybe,”
he said. The single word dropped between them carried weight and power. If they
didn’t hurry, though, they’d miss the start of the game so they left.

Chapter Six

The
consolidated high school sat alongside one of the two-lane state highways that crossed
the county, and the football field was to the side. Jude noticed they hadn’t
replaced the old bleachers or built a proper stadium and it remained as he
remembered. Grass covered the playing field, the white lines painted on by the
custodial staff. Goalposts marked each end and two sets of stands, one for the
home fans, the smaller set for visitors flanked either side of the field. A
small cinderblock concession stand seemed to be the sole improvement in recent
years.

He
parked his truck in a line of other vehicles in the parking area between the
high school proper and the field. Some of the excitement he remembered from his
student years surfaced at the sight of the band about to march onto the field,
and the players waiting on the sidelines. The lit scoreboard stood at zero—for
now. Jude had seen many stadiums in many places and he wondered how the simple
setup might appear to Nicole. They hadn’t said much on the short drive over,
both preoccupied, he felt, with the kiss.

“So
what do you think?”

“It’s
basic but I can feel the energy from here,” Nicole said. “I’m starting to
understand the whole
Friday Night Lights
thing. I never did before. Is
it about to start?”

As
she spoke, the band struck up a marching tune and stepped onto the field. “Yeah,
any minute. We’d better hurry or we’ll miss the part where they announce the
players.”

“Your
nephew, David, is one of them, right?”

“Yeah,
he’s a senior. His brother Cody plays, too, and my other nephew, Noah’s kid Josh,
is
on the team too. Mindy, my sister Esther’s
youngest, is one of the varsity cheerleaders.”

They
paused to pay the small entrance admission at a makeshift gate manned by an old
man in a folding lawn chair,
then
Jude led Nicole into
the home team stands. In the second row, center, he spotted Elijah, Tania, and
the rest of the
Rykers
. With her hand tucked in his,
they joined them. He watched his brothers’ expressions as they noted the linked
hands, the letter jacket, and Nicole’s presence. If they hadn’t been in a
public place with the focus on football, he didn’t doubt they would have high-fived
him.

After
brief introductions, he put Nora on his lap and settled down to watch the game.
Although he’d come to support his nephew, Jude’s enthusiasm grew as the home
team made a series of touchdowns and racked up the score. In between plays, he
pointed out his niece among the cheerleaders and his other nephews to Nicole.

At
half time, as the band returned for an elaborate show, Nicole leaned over and
whispered in his ear. He pointed to the far end of the field and said, “See
over there, that’s the restrooms, honey.” Nicole peered into the darkness
beyond the brightly lit scene. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,”
Jude replied. “Same old
place,
and I bet they haven’t
updated them at all. Come on, I’ll walk you over there. It’s a ways and you’re
not familiar.”

The
distance didn’t concern him as much as the people. Country folks could be more
than a little unvarnished and Jude wanted to shield Nicole from any rough
stuff. A pretty woman strolling to the bathrooms away from the crowds might be
fair game or easy prey.
En
route, he pointed out a
few faces he remembered and exchanged greetings with a dozen people.
“Aren’t you
gonna
buy the gal some popcorn?” Nick
Stroud shouted as they passed the concession shack. “C’mon, Jude, at least buy
her a soda pop.”