The Sheriff's Son (15 page)

He continued to unsaddle the bay. “I'm sure you have a reason. You always seem to.”

The awkwardness she'd first felt when he walked into the barn suddenly fled, and anger flared through her veins. “Well, if you're worried I'm here to seduce you, let me put your mind at ease. I didn't come over this evening for your body.”

That brought his eyes around to her, and to Justine's surprise, a grin spread across his face. “I must be losing my sex appeal.”

That would be impossible, she thought. Even when he was sixty years old, he would be a sexy man. And she figured he knew that.

“Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get it back. Probably tomorrow, when some woman sees you strutting down the street.”

“I don't strut.”

No, he didn't need to. He simply had to look at a woman with those steel-blue eyes to melt her bones.

She stepped closer. “Actually, I'm not sure if I have a good reason to be here tonight,” she confessed. “You'll have to be the judge of that.”

He looked at her with wry curiosity. Justine quickly waved him back to his task of unsaddling the bay. “Go ahead. I'll show you when you've finished.”

Roy slipped the saddle from the horse's back, then carried
it into the tack room. After he led the bay to his stall, gave him a bucket of grain and fresh water, he rejoined Justine at the doorway of the barn.

“Do you want to go up to the house?”

Justine shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Let's go. I haven't eaten supper yet.”

He turned off the light, then took her by the upper arm. They walked to the house in silence. Along the way, Justine was acutely aware of his warm fingers pressing into her flesh, the male scent of him, mixed with horse sweat, and the faint jingle of spurs on his boots.

Tomas, her daddy, had told her a long time ago that a wolf could never really be tamed or coaxed into trusting someone enough to let himself be loved. That was what Roy was, she realized, a lone wolf, who preferred to keep his heart to himself.

Inside the house, Roy put on a fresh pot of coffee. Justine waited by the cabinet counter until he was finished, then handed him the envelope of checks.

“Rose discovered these today, while she was doing some book work. Neither of us know what they might mean.”

He glanced at her as he took the envelope. “You really did have something to show me.”

She frowned at the surprise on his face. “What did you think? That I
was
here for your body?”

He sighed, his eyes soft on her face. “I never know about you, Justine. You're very unpredictable.”

“I thought a man liked that in a woman.”

He liked everything about her. He always had. Except for the fact that she'd left him and had some other man's child.

“Sit down. I'm going to heat a can of tamales. Want some?”

“No, thank you. I've already eaten this evening. But I will take a cup of coffee when it's ready.”

She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and motioned
for him to take a seat. “You sit down and look at what's inside that envelope while I heat the tamales.”

He did as she suggested, and Justine busied herself finding the tamales and a saucepan to put them in. Once she had the food heating, she set a plate, silverware, a napkin and a coffee cup in front of him.

Roy quickly sifted through the checks. “You don't have any idea what these might have been written for? Or who they were written to?”

The urge to be near him pulled at Justine, and she lingered by his shoulder. He'd taken his hat off when they entered the house, and now her eyes drifted over the sandy waves of his hair. More than anything, she wanted to touch him. But she kept her hands firmly at her sides.

“No,” she told him. “Rose carefully went through the ledger book, trying to match up the amount to a purchase of payment. She couldn't find anything. And believe me, Rose is good with numbers.”

“Is this all of the checks?”

“We don't know. Rose is going to do some more digging tonight.”

He placed the stack of documents on the table, then glanced up at Justine. “It appears to me as though your father was paying off a debt of some sort. Obviously one he didn't want his family to know about. Did you ever know of him keeping things about himself from you?”

Justine searched her mind. “Not really. There wasn't anything secretive about Daddy. He was a rancher who liked to raise cattle and racehorses.” Shaking her head, she made a motion with her hand, indicating the stack of canceled checks. “Rose and I were wondering if the checks might have something to do with the twins. That's why I wanted you to see them.”

He rubbed a hand over his jaws. “The idea seems remote. But we won't rule anything out until we find out who the money went to.”

“Can you do that?”

He didn't find her question daunting. “Easy. We have the bank where the checks were deposited. And even though they were endorsed with Deposit Only, rather than a name, the account number on the back of the canceled checks tells us where that money went. I'll get a name.”

Justine didn't know all about the laws of privacy or when a sheriff was permitted to break them, but she trusted Roy. He was the sheriff because he was good at it and because people trusted him.

She went over to the stove and stirred the tamales. Seeing the coffee had dripped, she carried the pot to the table and filled Roy's cup. “You know, I'm almost afraid to know what these checks are about. What if my father was into something illegal? It would kill my sisters.”

“What about you?”

She passed a weary hand over her hair. “I wouldn't like it. But I know better than to put any man, even my father, on a pedestal. When a woman does that, she might as well get ready for a big disappointment.”

She was referring to him, Roy thought. He'd disappointed her six years ago, and he supposed he was still failing to fulfil her hopes and dreams. At that moment, he knew what she'd been referring to when she talked about him living in a fog. Until now, he hadn't really thought of what their breakup might have done to her. He'd only been thinking of himself.

Justine checked on the tamales. They were steaming-hot, so she carried the pot to the table and scooped several onto Roy's plate.

Roy thanked her and picked up his fork. An hour ago, he'd been starving, and anxious to get back to the house and eat. Now he didn't care if he ate or not. All he could think about was Justine and how good it felt to have her here, moving around the kitchen, hovering over his shoulder.

He took a bite of the tamales. Justine sat down in the chair next to his.

“Have you gotten anywhere with the birth records?” she asked.

His eyes were drawn to her face, and the red waves surrounding it.

“Not yet. But we have a long ways to go.” He swallowed the tamale and automatically took another bit. “How is Charlie?”

Her eyes dropped to her coffee cup. “He begged to come with me.”

He couldn't tear his gaze away from her. “Why didn't you bring him?”

She sighed as the burden of her secret crushed down on her. “I really didn't figure you wanted to see me or Charlie. Besides; it was getting near his bedtime when I left the ranch.” She glanced at her watch. “Actually, it's getting close to mine now.”

Rising to her feet, Justine carried her coffee cup over to the cabinets, dumped what was left in the sink, then started to the door.

“I'd better be going,” she told him. “You can let me know about the checks after you've had a chance to look into them.”

Justine hadn't meant to leave this abruptly. But once he mentioned Charlie, she'd felt cornered and wounded. She'd come over here with the faint notion of letting him know that Charlie was his son. But now she realized she couldn't bring herself to do it. A part of her was afraid that what Kitty feared might really happen. Roy might want to hurt her so badly he would use any means to get Charlie.

Over at the table, Roy's eyes continued to cling to her, and suddenly he was struck by how much he wanted her to stay. All this week, he'd felt as if he were missing an arm or leg, or some other important part of him. Now that she was here, he felt whole again. Whole and happy.

Forgetting the meal, he rose from the table and went to her.

“Do you have to leave now?”

Wasn't that what he wanted? For her to keep her distance? Averting her eyes from his, she said, “I think I'd better. I've already imposed on you enough tonight.”

She sounded so formal and polite. Not like a woman he'd once made love to. He knew he could blame himself for her distance. He'd more or less asked for it.

“I wanted to call you several times this week,” he said in a low voice.

Her eyes fluttered up to his. “You
wanted
to call me?”

He nodded gravely. “I guess that's hard for you to believe.”

She tried to laugh, but it came out more like a bitter sob. “It's not hard to believe. It's impossible.”

He sighed. “You're not making this any easier for me.”

Her delicate auburn brows arched innocently. “What are you talking about? I brought you a stack of evidence, or what might be evidence. Now I'm going home. I'm making it very easy for you.”

His hand reached up and curled around her throat. It was warm and damp, and the beat of her heart throbbed against his palm. “I'm trying to tell you that I've missed you.”

Her eyes fell to the toes of his boots. “I'm sure that galled you.”

“I didn't like it,” he agreed. “But I'm facing up to it. Admitting it to myself and to you. That's a start, isn't it?”

Did he really want a start? The question brought her gaze back up to his. “I don't want any man who doesn't want me. Can't you understand that, Roy?”

He mouthed a curse word under his breath. If he wanted her anymore he'd be stark raving crazy. “I do want you, Justine.”

“But it irks you that you do. Is that supposed to make me happy?”

“Wanting you doesn't irk me, Justine, it scares the hell out of me.”

The truth of what he was saying was in his eyes. She moved closer and lifted her hand to his face. Tracing the fine lines at the corner of one eye, she said, “I didn't think anything could scare you.”

“Loving you does.”

“I'm still not so sure you love me.”

“Maybe it's time I showed you.”

“No—Roy—” Her protest was blotted out by his lips, and she knew it was too late to run from him. Her heart was melting, her blood was singing through her veins.

With a groan of desire, she leaned into him, curled her arms around his waist.

Roy kissed her for a moment longer. Then, bending, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she whispered frantically as they moved through a darkened hallway.

“Sssh…” he said. “Don't talk. Talking isn't going to fix what ails us.”

But she had to talk, she thought through a haze of desire. She had to tell him about Charlie. Before it was too late. Before he hated her.

He made a left turn with her and entered an open door. Seconds later, Justine felt a mattress against her back and Roy's body pressing down on hers.

Moonlight filtered through the slatted blinds on the window and illuminated the room enough for Justine to see his face hovering only inches above hers.

“This is my bed, Justine. It's where you belong. Where you've always belonged.”

Hope dared to surge through her. “For one night? A few nights? Is that what you're saying?”

His head bent, and he pressed a kiss behind her ear. “I'm
saying you were right, Justine. It's time we started making the past up to each other.”

Her mind was suddenly reeling. He wanted a future with her! He was saying it with words, showing her with kisses. For years she had dreamed of this moment, and for just as long she'd told herself that a dream was all it could be. But now it was actually happening, and her senses were so shocked, she couldn't think or plan or know what to do. Except love him.

“Oh, Roy, are you sure? You've always said you didn't want a wife or family. You said you didn't trust me.”

With his hands on her face, he kissed the corners of her mouth, her nose and chin. “I'm tired of hanging on to the past, Justine. I'd rather hang on to you. And Charlie.”

And Charlie.
Dear heaven, she had to tell him now! She had to explain and hope that he would understand and be happy to know that he was really Charlie's father.

With a desperate groan, she circled her arms around his neck and brought her lips against his.

It was all the response Roy needed. He crushed her to him, threaded his fingers through her long hair and explored the sweet, giving softness of her lips.

In moments, the need to be closer had become a necessity for Roy. With urgent hands, he tugged Justine's T-shirt over her head, then pulled the straps of her bra down her arms until the fabric pulled away from her breasts.

As his mouth nuzzled its way toward her rigid nipple, Justine felt herself fast losing her grip, and she realized she had to speak now. She wanted him to know about Charlie before they made love.

“Roy, there's something I need—” Her hands slid across his shoulders and into the thick waves at the back of his head. “Something…I have to tell you.”

Resting his chin on her breast, he looked up at her. “If you're worried about protection, I've got it.”

Suddenly everything inside her was shaking with fear.
She loved Roy so much. If she lost him now, she didn't know how she could bear it. “No. I'm not worried about birth control. I want to explain about when I left six years ago.”

He groaned with frustration. “I don't want to hear it, Justine. That's in the past. Done with. Tonight, we're starting over.”