When Bruce Met Cyn (20 page)

“That's because he
is
a man.”

Julie grinned knowingly. “You see? He has to love that attitude of yours.”

“I worry about it,” Cyn said. “I'd like to curb my tongue around him, but I haven't really had to do that in way too long.” As an aside, she admitted, “I've been on my own since I was seventeen.”

“Goodness!” Julie stared at her, then confessed back, “I've never been on my own.” Her eyes brightened. “Until now.”

“It's not all it's cracked up to be.”

“You were a child, so your experiences would be far different from mine.” Julie led her horse around a tall walnut tree, turning back toward the barn. Cyn followed.

“You're not a child any more, though. You're a young lady and Bruce watches you with so much…greed. It's wonderful to see. Someday, I hope a man looks at me that way.”

Greed. That sounded kinda nice.

“Race you.”

Drawn from her thoughts, Cyn barely had time to agree to the challenge when Julie nudged her mount into a gallop. They were a good distance from the barn, and the horses loved the chance to run full out.

They were both laughing like loons, and Cyn barely maintained her seat as they rounded the barn and pulled the horses up. She was winded, her heart raced, and she felt energized.

After dismounting, Julie said, “That was wonderful. I had so much fun.”

Even with the annoying news of Bruce's interference, Cyn had to admit she'd had fun, too. “Come by anytime. The horses love it.”

They walked the horses around the area for a few minutes to let them cool down, then, because it was a hot day, they treated them both to a brief shower with the hose.

Julie scraped off the excess water and sweat with a sweat scraper and Cyn picked the hooves to rid the animals of mud and stones. One more brushing, and the horses were turned loose in the pasture to laze in the sun. The women headed back for the barn and Cyn heard herself say, “You want to come up for some coffee or something?”

“Thank you, I'd love that.”

They reached the interior ladder and headed up. The outside stairs might have been more convenient, but neither woman minded using the ladder. It was another way that they were in accord.

Julie reached the top rung first, and noticed the damage. “Oh my.” She pulled herself up and waited for Cyn.

“What is it?” Cyn hoisted herself to the loft floor and followed Julie's line of vision. She stared at the open door to her apartment. Through it, she could see that her bed had been trashed and clothes were strewn everywhere.

Julie touched her arm. “You're not this messy, are you?”

“No.”

“I didn't think so.”

Cyn took in the damage. Her books were destroyed. Mary's beautiful quilt was ripped. And her panty drawer had been pulled out onto the floor.

Someone had been in the loft.
Her
loft.

She pressed a hand to her middle, over the sick knot of dread twisting her stomach.

Already, Palmer Oaks had found her.

Now what?

Ever the reasonable, responsible sort, Julie had made numerous phone calls before Cyn could stop her. Now there was so much confusion in her tiny living space, Cyn couldn't hear herself think. Bruce sat with her on the narrow, twin-size bed, and she knew he wasn't about to budge.

Both Bryan and Joe were perusing what was left of her books, which made her hot with humiliation and stiff with indignation. Deputy Scott Royal was on his phone, issuing orders, and Mary…poor Mary looked ill. The sanctity of her home had been invaded—thanks to Cyn. Her grandmother's beautiful quilt was destroyed—thanks to Cyn.

God, she was tired of it all.

“Anything missing?” Scott asked.

Cyn closed her eyes, but Julie answered for her. “Quite a few of her underthings have been taken.”

Bruce remained silent, but Bryan said, “Her underthings?”

“Panties?” Joe asked at almost the same time.

“That's right.” Julie pointed out the overturned drawer. “Cyn said this is where she kept them, but those, and a few of her bras, are gone.”

Scott's jaw locked. “Anything else? Anything of value?”

“I don't have anything of value.”

“Except yourself,” Bruce told her quietly. “And, thank God, you were off riding with Julie when this happened.”

They'd only been gone an hour or so. How had Palmer known Mary wasn't home? How did he even know where Cyn was? Like a damn ghost, she couldn't be rid of him, which meant she couldn't stay.

“I'm leaving,” Cyn said to the room at large.

Bruce nodded. “Yes, you are.”

Without a doubt, Cyn knew they were speaking of two different things. No way would Bruce want her off on her own again. She knew him too well for that.

One deep breath later, Cyn pushed to her feet and gave a grim smile to one and all. “I don't want to hear any arguments. I know you're all very kind people, but I'm outta here. This is more than I want to deal with, and if I'm gone, well then, old Palmer can't find me. It's a win-win situation.”

Strangely enough, rather than arguing with her as she'd expected, or even showing concern, everyone looked at Bruce.

Bruce stood, too. “Mary, I'm very sorry.”

Mary waved that away. “I agree with Cyn. I can't abide a threat to her or my animals. The alarm is only activated in the evening. I never once thought of anyone trying to vandalize me in the bright light of day.”

It wasn't about vandalism, but Cyn didn't want Mary to know that. She looked shaken enough already.

“From now on,” Scott told Mary after disconnecting the phone, “leave the alarm on at all times. Just get used to shutting it down when you check the horses or let them out.”

“Of course.” Mary picked up the quilt, and gave Cyn a weak smile. “I think it can be repaired, so don't you worry. I'll go work on that now.” Her hands were shaking. “If someone could let me know what you all decide…?”

Bruce nodded. “I'll be up to talk to you in a little bit.”

“Thank you.” Mary left with Julie at her side.

Scott hung up the phone and put his hands on his hips. Cyn could understand the appeal of a man in uniform, but right now, Scott just looked very imposing and stern.

“Detective Orsen says she's closing in on Palmer's trail. He was in Putnamville, a low-to-medium-security men's prison in western Indiana. They've got a huge overcrowding problem, so that might've played in with his early release. Anyone who's not considered an imminent danger to the community can complete some rehabilitation therapy and get out on parole. Thing is, he hasn't seen his parole office in a month. Last they can figure, he was on his way to Tennessee, or so the rumors go. They haven't located him yet.”

“I had some people working on it,” Bryan said, still holding Cyn's book,
The Road to Recovery: After Child Abuse,
dangling from his hand. “A week ago, he was spotted in Memphis, then a few days later, in Knoxville.”

Joe cursed softly. “A clear trail leading to North Carolina.”

“It leads here,” Cyn said. “This was Palmer, I know it. And that's why I can't stay.”

“You sure as hell can't stay here alone in the loft,” Bryan agreed.

Even men weren't that obtuse; Cyn knew they deliberately weren't getting it. “Listen up, fellas.”

They all looked at her with various displays of macho disgruntlement and bullheaded determination.

“I'm packing what's left of my stuff. Closing out my savings account. And I'm skipping town. Today.”

Again, the men looked at Bruce, and Bruce shook his head.

It made Cyn so furious, she nearly shouted, “
Get out.
All of you.”

As if she hadn't given an order, as if she hadn't spoken at all, Bryan held up the book. “Why do you have this?”

Hiding her hurt with sneering derision, Cyn laughed. “Oh, you mean Bruce didn't tell you all about that while he was giving you your schedule?”

“What schedule?” Joe asked.

“The one that assigned you each times to watch out for me.”

Joe straightened to his full, impressive height and crossed massive arms over his chest. “I don't take assignments from anyone, little girl, so get that out of your head.”

Cyn wasn't put off by his aggressive stance. She crossed her arms, too, and leaned into his space. “You're telling me your visit yesterday had nothing to do with Bruce?”

“It had everything to do with Bruce. He was worried about you, and I didn't want him to be. So, I stopped by to check on you. End of story.”

Oh, hell. Cyn swallowed down a wave of embarrassment. “And you?” she asked Bryan.

He shrugged, grinned at her. “Since you're so headstrong and insist on staying alone, Joe and I wanted to see how secure this place is. And it's not secure, not in any way.”

“I figured that out, thanks.”

“Bruce is my brother,” Bryan continued, paying no mind to her sarcasm. “I don't want him suffering sleepless nights fretting over you.”

Scott laughed. “You're all a bunch of women.” But when he looked at Cyn again, all that stern intention was back, amplified by the soft command of his tone. “Only an idiot would go off alone. And Cyn, you're not an idiot.” He took the book from Bryan and waved it under her nose. “You want some closure with this bastard? Running won't do it. You're going to have to stay put and let me handle it.”

Bryan nodded. “That's right. We'll handle it.”

Scott rolled his eyes and turned on Bryan. “I said
me,
not you. I'm the law, and in case you've forgotten—you're
not.”

Joe looked at Bryan with a long face. “He doesn't want us to have any fun, does he?”

Scott's hair practically stood on end. “Joe…”

Joe slapped Scott on the back. “Accept your fate, bud. You're going to need our help. The sheriff sure as hell isn't any backup, and besides, Alyx is coming to visit again so I have a feeling you'll have your hands full.”

Cyn watched in amazement as Scott blanched at the mention of Joe's sister. “Why's she coming this time?”

“Because I'm going to invite her.” Then, in the blink of an eye, Joe managed to look somehow caring and concerned, instead of wickedly evil. “Now Cyn, what's with the books?”

Luckily, Bruce took pity on her. “All of you, out.”

Scott all but growled, “Excuse me, but I am the damn deputy and I'm not done investigating.”

Bruce shrugged, so grim and sober that he didn't look like the same man Cyn knew and loved. “Fine, then we'll go.”

“Where to?” Bryan wanted to know, almost swelling with protectiveness.

“Not far,” Bruce promised. His eyes were the darkest brown, full of intensity, his mouth flat. “I have some things to explain to Cyn, and a very important question to put to her, and we don't need an audience.”

Oh, hell. Cyn didn't want to go with him. He looked angry and inflexible, not peaceful and compassionate. She'd rather face the other three, unpleasant as they were than be alone with Bruce in her current frame of mind.

But when she looked at Joe, ready to provoke him so she could continue her argument, he just grinned and elbowed Bryan, who also appeared very pleased.

Bryan said, “Do me proud now, you hear?”

What in the world were they blathering on about?

Bruce gave his brother a negligent wave. “Come on, honey.” Holding tight to Cyn's hand, he tugged her out of the apartment and to the far end of the loft, where it still served for hay storage. He sat her on a bale, stared down at her, and then, to her surprise, he cupped her face and bent to kiss her.

 

Joe sat on the side of the bed the second they were gone. Head in his hands, fingers knotted in his hair, he growled, “Jesus, do you believe this shit?”

Bryan had already started pacing. With Cyn out of the room, he didn't have to hide his rage any longer. He threw the book onto the bed beside Joe. “Fucking bastard. God, how I'd love to get my hands on him.”

Scott worked his jaw. “Child abuse. I'd met her, spoken with her, but I hadn't realized…”

“And he took her panties,” Joe pointed out.

“Sick fuck isn't exactly subtle about his plans, is he?”

“He's not getting anywhere near her,” Bryan vowed.

“No,” Scott agreed. “Hopefully we'll get some prints off the door where he entered, but the rest of this…it's just so damn hard to get a good, clean print.”

Joe pushed to his feet. “Detective Orsen had the same problem at the murder scene. She checked the note he left, the one where he forged Cyn's name, but there weren't any clean prints. He must've been wearing gloves.”

“Was probably wearing them here, too, then,” Scott said in disgust.

They were all brooding in impotent anger when Cyn let out a shrill screech.

No one was alarmed. Joe chuckled. “I reckon he asked her, huh?”

Bryan was so pleased, he couldn't stop smiling. “She's had him running in circles. It's about time he put an end to it.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Marrying her is the only thing he can do, since he wants to keep her close.”

Scott's mouth tipped up on the left side. “She doesn't sound the least bit happy about it.”

“Bruce'll convince her,” Bryan said. “After all, he
is
my brother.”

And Joe, tongue in cheek, shook his head and said, “Related to you. Poor bastard.”

 

Bruce tried not to let her horrified expression get to him. “The sooner, the better, Cyn.”

Eyes wide, face pale, she shook her head again. “No. No way.”

“You're refusing my proposal?”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, then started to stand. Bruce gently pressed her back into her seat. “Someone is after you. You can't stay here alone and you know it. I can only keep you safe if you're with me, all the time, definitely at night. And I can only make that work if you marry me.” She shook her head, prompting him to sigh. “Talk to me, Cyn.”

She tried, nothing came out, and she swallowed before giving it another attempt. “You can't…can't want to marry me.”

Bruce straightened to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not?”

“Because…because…”

It wasn't fair, but as a desperate man, he couldn't be fair. He
had
to keep her safe from Palmer Oaks.

“You don't love me?”

She drew back as if slapped.

“You can tell me if you don't.” Bruce sat beside her and clasped her hand in his. “Have I ever talked to you about my mother? How she hated being a preacher's wife? No? Well, Dad raised Bryan and me on his own. You see, my mother met my dad when he was in the service, and she thought they'd travel a lot, see the world.”

Little by little, Cyn thawed from her shock. “When did he become a preacher?”

“I don't know exactly, but he was still young. When he got the calling, left the military, and became a preacher.”

“That's a big change of careers.”

“Yes, it is, and my mother hated it. Dad's congregation supplied our house, so it was, by necessity, modest. We lived on a tight budget. But I was happy. Bryan was happy. We had a good life.”

“Even without your mother?”

Bruce shrugged. “Truthfully, I can't recall ever really missing her. Dad gave us everything we needed.”

“Do you see her still?”

He shook his head. “She'd never kept in touch, so I feel like I never really knew her.” He lifted one shoulder. “She passed away with cancer. We didn't even find out until months after the funeral. No one notified us.”

“Don't compare me with her, Bruce.”

He smiled to himself. He'd take Cyn full of gumption, over Cyn shell-shocked and silent, any day. “Oh? So you don't mind my small house or my tight budget or the fact that I'm staying in Visitation? You don't find me…less than you've expected or wanted in a husband? Do I measure up?”

Cyn punched him in the arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her point. “You know none of that has anything to do with it. It's not about you.”

“So it's Bryan? He is the touted black sheep in the family, I can't deny that, but basically he's harmless and Shay keeps him in line.”

She gave him a leery look. “I like your brother a lot.”

“You'll like Dad, too.”

Disgruntled, she muttered, “Probably.”

“Then marry me.”

She covered her face with her hands. “You feel sorry for me.”

Bruce appreciated the way she always spilled the truth, just throwing it out there so he could deal with it. It beat guessing games anytime. “True. There are times when my heart breaks thinking about what you went through as a child, and what you must be going through now. If I could, I'd spare you, but I can't. This is something we have to deal with.”