The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) (18 page)

Tammy pulled him closer, his little blond head resting against her chest.

He saved her from answering what could be an untruth. “We’ll find him, son. I promise. Go to sleep for a while. I’ll watch over y’all.”

As he met the eyes of the woman he loved, there was gratitude in them and something else he couldn’t quite decipher.

Chapter 14

In that space between dreams and consciousness, Tammy moved to turn over to escape the suffocating pressure in her chest. Rory and Annabelle were sleeping with her. The reason was elusive through the haze of her fatigue. Her bones ached, and her skin felt like she’d gone swimming in freezing water. Was she sick?

Then she remembered. The break-in. Dear God.

A warm hand caressed her arm then, a man’s hand—a sensation so rare she gasped.

“Shh, it’s all right.”

Even rough with sleep, she knew it was John Parker’s voice before she opened her eyes. He was lying on his side like her, the children and Barbie squashed between them like rolls of unbaked bread.

John Parker’s face was haggard and sported a decent stubble. His blue eyes were bloodshot, but intent. The comfort she felt from his presence eased the pressure in her chest from the dream she couldn’t remember. He’d come in the night to be with them, and her gratitude was too vast to be expressed.

“Are the police still here?” she whispered, not seeing any officers.

“Yes, the crime scene investigators came a while back with the detective. You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you. They want us to stay in here while they do their work. ”

Right. There would be fingerprints to take along with a whole series of other things she probably didn’t know about. Between the house and the surrounding property, there was a large area to cover. Was the cherished home she’d made here with the children, their first safe one after leaving Sterling, lost to them?

Her heart cracked.

Like providing food for her children, she’d come to realize just how important safety was to their existence, something she’d denied herself for too long. Now someone besides Sterling had taken that away from her again, and an ember of anger ignited inside her.

Part of her didn’t want to ask, but it was best to face it now while Rory was asleep so she could brace herself for what needed doing. “Did they find Bandit?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his jaw clenched. “He was hurt, so they took him to a vet.”

Hurt, not dead. Part of her was grateful. The other part was enraged. That man had hurt her son’s dog.

Then a darker thought emerged.

He might have hurt them too.

“I’m glad you slept some,” he said. “It’ll help.”

“Did you get any sleep?” she asked, seeing the faint glow of morning light wrap around the curtains in Rye’s room. She wondered what time it was but couldn’t see the alarm clock from her position. She didn’t want to move for fear of waking the children.

“I dozed on and off some.”

“I can’t thank you enough for coming last night and staying. I couldn’t have…done it alone.”

“Yes, you could have. You did great all by yourself. I’m just glad you didn’t have to be alone for the rest of it.”

“I’ve never been more scared.” Not even with Sterling. He might have hurt her, but she knew him, knew what he was capable of.

He leaned closer, careful not to squash the kids and Barbie, and traced her face. His thick brown hair was matted to his head. “I’m sorry you had to face it by yourself.”

His touch pushed some of the darkness away. “What did the police say?”

He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “They think it was an overzealous fan who wanted to lift a personal souvenir of Rye’s while your brother was on tour.”

Dear God, a souvenir? That’s what the intruder had been after? “Did the intruder steal anything?”

“Yes, Rye’s last trophy from the Country Music Awards. He also dropped and broke one of his Grammys.”

She shivered, remembering the sound. “I heard a thud. That’s how I knew…”

“I suppose we should thank God for that.” He rubbed her arm. “Rye and Tory will be here in about an hour, and I called my mama to tell her what’s going on. My family and her whole congregation are praying for y’all. She wanted me to tell you that.”

Well, that had her tearing up. They would need prayers, lots of them, to feel safe again.

“I know Rye had to cancel a few concerts to come home,” she whispered, “but I’m so glad he and Tory are coming. That everyone is.”

“Nothing would have stopped them. That’s what families do, honey. They come together in times of trouble.”

One tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Until last year, mine didn’t.”

John Parker brushed the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. “Isn’t it amazing how things can work themselves out?”

“We’re so lucky to have them all.” She raised her eyes to meet his intense blue gaze. “John Parker…”

“What?” he whispered huskily.

“We’re lucky to have you too.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then rose onto one elbow, nestling the kids together like two twins sharing space in a womb. As he leaned closer, she knew instinctively to meet him halfway.

With the blessed warmth of her children between them, she closed her eyes and kissed the first man she’d ever kissed other than her ex-husband and learned more about the possibilities between a man and a woman from the merest brush of their lips than she had from nine years of marriage to Sterling.

She’d thought about kissing John Parker for longer than she’d like to admit. Feared it. Longed for it. She hadn’t ever imagined it happening like this, but she couldn’t stop herself from pressing her lips gently to his mouth. A tremble, delicate and comforting, cruised through her, and it was a relief to feel her body shiver for a different reason now. She knew something had shifted inside her, almost as though a great treasure chest had been unearthed from its watery grave at the bottom of the sea.

He kept the kiss light, sipping at her lips, something she hadn’t known was possible. There was gentleness here, and all she’d ever known from a man before now was aggressiveness, urgency, and disregard—for her needs, her body, her soul.

The sensation of his hand cupping her cheek was like the first ray of spring sunshine bathing her skin after a long winter, and her breath rushed out, mixing with his own. She wanted the kiss to go on and on, but Barbie started to squirm, squashed between the kids. John Parker must have sensed it because he stroked her nape one last time and pulled away.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and all around her the world looked different, as different as the new feelings spiraling through her body.

“I’m lucky too,” he whispered.

And this time, when they gathered the children closer between them, they both stayed awake without talking, only gazing at each other, knowing everything had indeed changed.

Chapter 15

After breaking the news about Bandit’s condition to Rory, who had cried uncontrollably, she and John Parker bathed the kids, then took turns showering. The police were helpful—since the house was still officially a crime scene and no one without a badge was cleared to roam around, the officers found clothes for them and even offered to pick up breakfast.

Tammy was brushing Annabelle’s hair while John Parker sang softly to the kids when they heard a deep bellow from below.
“
Tammy, Rory, Annabelle?
”

Rye. Tammy jumped off the bed and rushed into the hallway, watching as the officers fell back from him and Tory. Rye ran toward her with her sister-in-law right behind him, and then he was hugging her and squeezing her. Another piece of her foundation settled back into place.

“Oh, thank God! I was so worried. Tammy, honey. I’m so glad you’re safe.” He squeezed her tight as Tory wrapped her arms around them too, and then he kissed her head three times. “Where are the kids?”

“In your room,” she said hoarsely, soaking up their presence.

As soon as they entered his room, Rye scooped up Annabelle. “How’s my precious little girl?” He caressed her hair like it was fine silk.

“Uncle Rye,” her small voice cried. “We were so scared.”

“I know, darlin’,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for y’all. Rory, son, come on over here. I have a mighty big need to hug you…right now.”

As the kids wrapped their little arms around Rye, her brother’s eyes started to swim with tears. “Oh, my sweet babies. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I’m just…so sorry.”

Hearing him like that…tears ran down her face like raindrops.

Tory was crying too, and she wrapped her arms around the kids and Rye. “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

Rye nodded to John Parker, sniffling, and his friend lifted his chin in acknowledgment.

An officer appeared in the doorway with some take-out bags a few moments later, and Tammy thanked him. “Let’s get some breakfast into everyone.”

They huddled on the floor, swathed in the room in the large house that had become their haven. Inside the bags were paper plates, plastic silverware, napkins, and an array of breakfast sandwiches and pancakes. After Tammy finished making the children their plates, she did the same for the adults. Even though no one really wanted to eat, it was another routine they needed to reestablish.

Rye winced when she handed him a plate.

“Rye, you look green.”

“Plane didn’t agree with me,” he mumbled.

Tory pushed the plate back at him when he pushed it away. “Eat.”

Rye sighed. “Eat yourself, Doc. You look like you’re about to fall over.” His wife shoveled in an egg and ham sandwich, but only after he started eating too.

It took some encouraging, but the kids took a few more bites of their food before pushing their plates away.

After cleaning up, Rye stood. “Why don’t I go see if we can move out of this room? J.P., do you want to join me?”

Tammy watched the two men go, and Tory reached for her hand without speaking. Rye was already taking charge. Funny how it had never dawned on her to stride out of the room and demand answers.

When Rye returned, he hefted Annabelle up. “We’re cleared to go anywhere we’d like. The police are heading out and have left temporary protection for us until we hire a private security company. How about you kids go outside and let Tory and your Mama take turns pushing you on the tree swing? J.P. and I need to cut some firewood.”

Why on earth would they need firewood when it was ninety-some degrees? Tammy crossed her arms, knowing a ruse when she heard one. He knew more than he was letting on, of that she had no doubt. Well, she could steal away and grill Rye once the kids were settled outside.

“Sure,” John Parker responded.

“Will you go out with Mama?” she asked the kids, holding out her hands to them.

Rory shook his head, “No, I want to go see Bandit now.”

Rye put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll go as soon as we can. I promise, Rory.”

“He was a really brave dog last night,” Tory added, trying to smile. “He’ll be home soon, honey, good as new.”

His mouth pursed stubbornly. “It’s not true!” he yelled, his vehemence a total shock to everyone. “Nothing will ever be the same!” Then he took off running.

In her gut, Tammy knew he was right. All around her lay broken pieces, and she needed all the help she could get to put everything back together again.

Chapter 16

John Parker followed everyone out into the back of the property, eyeing the cluster of guards who looked like statues. Somehow the gardens looked like a mirage, overflowing with the promise of beauty and life. But after last night, he could feel a darker presence here, something that needed to be ripped out by the roots.

Tory had managed to coax Rory out of his tree house, where he’d hidden after fleeing outside, and the kids were playing half-heartedly on the swing, their misery obvious. They didn’t feel safe, and he didn’t know how to fix that.

Rye’s smile was tight as he murmured to the others and then walked away. When Tammy looked over at him before he turned to follow Rye, John Parker could almost feel the accusation on the tip of her tongue. Rye’s cover story about cutting logs was a bad one, of course, but he and his friend needed to speak alone. They had failed to protect her and the kids, and it was a hard blow to their manhood.

As they were walking to the woodpile, John Parker caught sight of a man in plain clothes coming toward them. It was Detective Tim Rawlings.

Rye inclined his head toward the man. “I asked the detective to meet us over here, so we wouldn’t be overheard. Tammy and the kids have been through enough.”

He nodded.

“Mr. Crenshaw, Mr. McGuiness,” the detective said when he reached them.

“Tell us what you know,” Rye said with no other preliminaries.

The middle-aged man gave them a brief overview, saying they were still investigating and had dedicated sufficient manpower to the case. The Nashville police had handled the burglaries of its country stars before, and they took it seriously. Anything else was bad for the town. Even the nearby county sheriffs were involved now.

John Parker couldn’t have been happier to hear about the effort they were putting into finding this bastard, but he hadn’t expected any less, and neither had Rye.

The detective mentioned finding footprints leading to the river; they suspected the perpetrator had come by boat since Rye’s front gate hadn’t been comprised.

John Parker glanced at the Dare River when he heard that, and instead of the joy he usually felt while fishing in it and biking and running alongside its mighty waters, all he felt was rage that someone would use it for such a nefarious purpose.

The police’s initial speculation was that the intruder was a fan because of the attention that had been paid to Rye’s studio—the thief’s point of entry—and his missing and broken awards. They inferred the thief had grown bolder when the alarm stayed off, which is why he’d crept through the house to look for more loot.

“Some over-the-top fan,” Rye muttered, kicking the woodpile hard enough to knock some of the logs to the ground. “I’ve heard about such things, but it’s never happened to me. My fans are mostly good people.”