Lone Star Justice (25 page)

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Authors: Tori Scott

BOOK: Lone Star Justice
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***

It had been the longest two months of his life. Rand couldn't believe Maddie had done it again. She'd left without a word, just a thank you note, as if the last two weeks had meant nothing, as though he meant no more to her now than he had before.

He'd wanted to call her. Oh, how he'd wanted to. But he'd forced himself to step back, to give her time to assimilate everything that had happened. He'd let Detective Thacker handle getting her version of what had happened. He didn't need her testimony since there was no trial to worry about.

What he needed was Maddie. His house felt cold and empty, devoid of happiness. Just having Maddie and Brandy there for a few days had made it feel alive, like a real home. Without them, it was a place to change clothes and do chores.

Even Linda glared at him every time he walked by. Like this was his fault. Hell, he wasn't the one who'd run. Again.

He slammed his office door against Linda's baleful looks and shoved his hands through his hair. He was way past due for a haircut. He stalked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and didn’t like what he saw. His face was thinner, drawn. His hair was downright shaggy. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Damn it. He couldn't go on like this. He had to see her, talk to her, find out why she'd left without a word. He'd evidently done something, said something, or not said the right thing.

He grabbed his hat, slammed it on his head, and marched back to Linda's desk. "I'm going to be gone for a couple of days. Maybe a week. Tell Cody he's in charge."

Linda gave him a long look. "Do I dare hope you're headed to Oklahoma?"

Rand sighed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yep. Don't forget to stop for flowers and gifts along the way. And don't come back without them."

Ellie helped him pick out gifts for Maddie and Brandy, and Maria at the florist arranged a bouquet of pink and yellow daisies. He'd thought about roses, then remembered the rose that had put Maddie in the hospital the first time and nixed that idea. Then he climbed in his pickup and headed out on the long trip to bring his family home.

The drive gave him plenty of time to think, something he hadn't taken the time to do lately. If Maddie refused to come back with him, could he walk away from his job, his home, his life in Greendale? It would be hard, but he could, and would, do it. Nothing was more important than Maddie and his daughter. He could get a job in Montgomery. Detective Thacker had already told him they'd love to have him on the Montgomery PD. He didn't think he'd like living in town, but maybe he could talk Maddie into moving outside of town where they could have a few acres to raise his Alpacas and train some Malanois for the K-9 corps.

When he got close to Montgomery, he keyed Maddie's address into his GPS and followed it to a pretty brick home in a quiet neighborhood. He turned off the ignition and sat in the car, looking at the house. He was already feeling claustrophobic from the heavy traffic in town, and the close-set houses increased the feeling. He shook it off, gathered up the gifts and flowers he'd brought, and stepped out of the truck.

Would they be home? It was after six in the evening, but they might have gone out to eat. Maybe he should come back later?

No, he wasn't going to chicken out. If they weren't home, he'd camp out on the porch until they arrived.

He rang the doorbell and after a minute, the door opened. Brandy took one look at him and his armload of presents and burst into tears. Then she ran back into the house.

A few moments later, Maddie came to the door, her eyes wide. "Rand. What are you doing here?"

He shifted from one foot to the other. "Can I come in, Maddie? It's been a long drive, and this stuff is heavy."

"Oh, of course. Come in."

She stepped back to let him pass and he saw Brandy half-hiding behind her back. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Tears still rolled down her cheeks. "Hi Daddy."

Daddy. There was no sweeter word in the world. He handed her the bag that held her gift. "I brought you something."

He didn't know what to think about the tears. Was she glad to see him? Scared? He'd never understand teenage girls.

He turned to hand Maddie the bouquet of flowers and her gift and saw that she was tearing up, as well. He was so not equipped to handle women's tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make either of you cry. If you want me to leave, I will. I don't want to, but I'll do whatever you want me to do."

Brandy wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. "No, we don't want you to go."

Maddie smiled, a bit wobbly but a smile nonetheless, which eased his fears a bit.

"I'll explain later," she told him. She took the flowers into the kitchen and came back with a vase and put them on the dining room table. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

They went into the living room. There was an awkward moment when they tried to decide where to sit, but they finally all sat together on the couch, with Rand in the middle. They passed a few minutes with small talk before Rand finally found the courage to say what he'd come to say. "Maddie, Brandy, I came to tell you I've missed you. I need you both in my life. Whether it's here in Montgomery or back in Greendale is up to you, but I want us to be a family."

"Me too, Daddy." Brandy looked up at him with adoring eyes. He hoped she never lost that child-like innocence, because the feeling that look gave him was indescribable. He hoped he never did anything to disappoint her.

He looked at Maddie. "Well, what do you think?"

She nodded. "I have something to tell you first. If you hadn't shown up today, we would have been on your doorstep in a few days. I've already taken a few days off from work."

"Why did you run, Maddie? I came to the house and it was empty. It felt like losing everything all over again."

"Because I was scared. Of you, of me. That maybe it wouldn't work out. Because I jumped to conclusions again, thinking you were relieved it was all over so you could get back to your life without us in tow."

"I should have called. But there was an emergency when I got back to the station and it took hours to sort everything out."

"What kind of emergency? Was someone hurt?"

Rand looked at Brandy. How much should he say in front of her? She probably deserved to know it all, considering what she'd been through. "Doc committed suicide. Cody told him about Aaron, then left for a few minutes. When he came back, Doc was dead."

Maddie shook her head. "What a waste. This whole thing has been a waste of lives. But you know what? I'm almost glad, in a way. I know how much he hated me…us. I still didn't feel safe."

"He can't ever hurt you again--either of you." Rand stood and turned to face them. "I have to ask. Would you want to live here, or back in Greendale?"

Their answer was simultaneous. "Greendale."

Brandy said, "I want to live on the ranch and go to school with Missy, and play with the Alpacas."

Maddie smiled at her, then looked up at Rand. "I have an even better reason for wanting to come home. I can't think of a better place to raise this child I'm carrying. Both our children will be better off being raised amongst friends and family."

 

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Go to next page to read an excerpt from Lean on Me by Tori Scott

 

 

Lean on Me

 

Chapter One

 

"Hurry, Mommy. I wanna ride before it gets dark!" Melanie stomped her small foot and stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Calm down, honey. It won't be dark for a while yet. You have plenty of time." Sandy Morrow brushed her daughter’s blonde curls back from her forehead and relished the feel of the soft strands against her palm. God, she loved her little girl. A tomboy with a pixie face, Mel was a constant whirlwind of activity who tackled every task with a single-minded determination Sandy wished she could tap into for herself. She was also stubborn and hard-headed on occasion, and Sandy knew she let her get away with it too often.

Melanie looked forward every evening to getting on her tricycle, a "berfday" gift from her Uncle Ryan, and setting off on new adventures, usually with her best friend, Jenny, in tow. But Jenny was on vacation this week, so Melanie had been at loose ends and more demanding of Sandy’s time and attention than usual.

While her four-year-old chatterbox kept up the running demands to go outside, Sandy changed from her navy-blue pinstriped jumpsuit into a pair of well-worn denim cutoffs and a bright red tank top with a big yellow smiley-face on the front. She took her long hair down from its French twist and immediately felt her headache ease. She left her feet bare because she hated wearing shoes unless it was absolutely necessary.

In the kitchen, she filled a glass with sweet iced tea while Melanie tugged on her shirt as she hopped impatiently from one foot to the other. Sandy sighed and left the kitchen, crossed the short hall that led to the foyer, and opened the front door. As soon as she stepped outside, her daughter dashed out behind her, slamming the door in her impatience. Sandy winced and rubbed her forehead.

Melanie ran for her tricycle as Sandy settled into the swing on the wide front porch. "No farther than Jenny's house, then right back, understand?" Melanie waved without turning around and continued down the sidewalk.

A door slammed next door and a booming male voice yelled, "Jason, get in here right now!"

Oh, Lord, please. Not again. Since they'd moved in two weeks ago, the Thurmans had fought constantly. Screaming and yelling seemed to be their only method of communication, with slamming doors and rattling windows added for emphasis. Not once had Sandy heard them use a normal tone of voice.

All she wanted when she got home from work was a tall, cold glass of tea, the peaceful rocking of the old front porch swing, and time with her daughter. A few minutes to relax wasn't too much to ask, was it? Why couldn't the Thurmans have chosen somewhere else to live? Their constant fights made her stomach churn.

The Thurmans didn't belong in her quiet, family neighborhood. The streets were laid out so that most of them were dead-end, making traffic slow and sparse. It was a safe haven for the kids, a place to ride their bikes and skateboards, or to play soccer in the street. Now they had a teenager--an angry teenager with a drivers license--to watch out for.

Finally, after another door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows, the noise abated next door and Sandy breathed deeply as her taut muscles began to relax. She let one bare foot drop to the floor, pushing the swing in a soothing rhythm. Her eyes drifted closed. Just for a minute.

The front screen slammed next door, the loud snap jolting her upright. She glanced over to see Hunter Thurman, hands fisted in his front pockets, jaw tightly clenched. He didn't seem to notice anything around him as he glared at his porch floor.

When she'd first met him, Sandy was instantly attracted. It should be a sin for a man to look that good. He was tall and powerfully built, with thick black hair and chiseled features. He carried himself with the grace of an athlete and the perfect posture of a soldier. He'd greeted her with a wonderful little-boy smile, full of mischief, that crinkled his eyes and made her breath catch. Just shaking his hand had made her heart race.

Today he was wearing soft, form-fitting jeans and a green chambray shirt. She'd bet the jewel tone of the shirt brought out the depth of color in his hazel eyes. Eyes that made her think of moonlight and kisses, soft sheets and tangled limbs. Things she, as a single mother with responsibilities, shouldn't be thinking about. Melanie demanded most of her time and attention. Her job as a childcare director consumed the rest.

Hunter did have one major drawback--a sixteen-year-old son. Jason was rude, obnoxious, and rebellious. And so angry.

At that moment, Hunter looked up and caught her staring. Her heart tripped double time when his mouth tilted up on the right in a wry smile. Embarrassed at being caught, she nodded, then looked away.

That is one pretty lady. Hunter admired the long legs stretched across the porch swing. He'd tried to think of an excuse to get to know his neighbor better, but so far hadn't come up with anything more original than borrowing a cup of sugar. Since he'd discarded that idea and gone to the store instead, he'd done nothing more than wave at her a time or two when they crossed paths. Except for the day he'd moved in. She'd appeared on his doorstep bearing a gift of chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had fresh, homemade cookies, still warm from the oven. Even Jason had stopped his arguing long enough to eat a few.

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