Time to Heal (Harlequin Heartwarming) (10 page)

“Michael? Are you listening?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Traffic was always heavy when school got out. Rachel kept her eyes on the road. “I thought if you were willing, we’d both just start all over,” she said. “Sort of wipe the slate clean and begin again.”

“Huh?” He couldn’t believe it. Was he going to get to stay?

She gave him a quick look. “I was saying that I regret what you overheard on Saturday night. The argument Jake and I were having wasn’t really about you, Michael.”

“You said it was.”

“I know. I’m sorry I said that. I’ve had some time to think it over, and I was wrong. I’m angry with Jake. And hurt. You can understand that, can’t you? I’m hurt because he turned to another woman, your mother, when we…he and I were going through a rocky time in our marriage.”

“Are you going to get a divorce?”

She drew in a quick breath. “That’s between
Jake and me, Michael. It really doesn’t concern you.”

Michael wondered if she really believed that. If she walked out on Jake, it would be the end of their happy home. It would be the end of his hopes and dreams. Would Jake still care about him if he caused Miss Rachel to walk out?

“Michael?” She stopped at the last red light before their street and looked at him. “Do you think we could begin again? Put the words you overheard behind us and work on being friends again?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, relaxing his hold on his gym bag, and managed a smile. No disaster had happened today. If she wanted to be friends, he guessed he’d have to settle for that. She’d probably freak out if he told her what he really wanted. They pulled into the driveway and he let his gaze linger on the house. He let out a soft sigh. What he really wanted more than almost anything was for Miss Rachel to be his mother.

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
, Jake had a message waiting for him from Rick Streeter with the DEA in Miami. According to Rick, the rumblings of a major drug connection along the Gulf Coast had materialized into solid evidence. A task force out of Miami was heading for Tidewater, and Jake’s department, as well as the city police department, would be expected to cooperate.

“This is all we need,” Frank Cordoba grumbled, scanning the notes Jake had taken while listening to Rick. “The county’ll be crawling with Feds. If they’d pass this information on to us, we could work up some kind of plan. We know our own territory, they don’t.”

“We both know that’s not the way they do business,” Jake said, settling into his chair after helping himself to coffee.

“Yeah, well, if the plan should happen to come together successfully, you can bet they’ll take the credit. Us local types will be tossed a token word of thanks, no matter how significant a part we
play. You know the drill, Jake. Hell, you used to be one of those guys.”

Jake laughed ruefully. “Don’t remind me.” He gazed thoughtfully beyond Frank to a wall map of the entire county. After a moment, he said, “We’re not without a few options ourselves.”

Frank looked interested. “Such as?”

“Look here.” Jake got up and went to the map. “We know the drugs are getting into the county somehow. So far, they’ve surfaced mostly in the hands of juveniles…here—” he touched the site of Tidewater High School “—and here—” the middle school “—and here.” The Burger Barn, popular hangout for teens. “Why is that, Frank? Why haven’t we had more incidents with the adult population? Is that just a fluke or is there a reason?” He tossed a folder aside. “I’m assigning a couple of men to keep close watch at the high school and middle school. Call Jacky. Tell her I personally want to question every kid who comes to her if she suspects a drug connection.”

He went to his desk. “What about the preacher’s kid—Moody?”

“We tried, but I don’t think we’re going to get anything from James. He got his stuff from a friend of a friend of a friend. By the time we ran through all his friends there was so much hearsay we couldn’t be sure if we were getting truth or fiction. The kids might have been stonewalling, but
I don’t think so. Whoever’s dealing doesn’t seem to have much organization.”

“Organization or not, he’s still putting dangerous stuff in the hands of kids.”

Frank finished his coffee. “I hear you.”

“If I read Brother Moody right yesterday, we aren’t going to get much cooperation there. He’s focusing more on calling attention to the shortcomings of my office than he is on helping us.”

“Way I see it, there’s an up side to that,” Frank drawled, getting to his feet.

“Yeah? I’d be interested to hear it.”

“Simple. There’re two law-enforcement agencies in Tidewater: city and county. As the sheriff, you have to take the heat for the county. But there’s a lot more drug trafficking inside the city limits, and that responsibility rests squarely on your challenger’s shoulders. So, as much as J. B. Gonzales would like to dump this all on you, Jake, he’s not gonna be able to weasel out of it.”

After Frank left, Jake stared hard at the map of Kinard County, filled with frustration and tension. It wasn’t just the job or his reelection, it wasn’t even the creeping influx of drugs into his territory that threatened to defeat him. What ate at him went deeper than that. He could handle the mounting problems in Kinard County a lot better if things were right in his family. If he didn’t find Scotty, would he lose Rachel, too?

The ding of a microwave sounded somewhere in the building, followed immediately by the smell of food. It was lunchtime. Although he wasn’t particularly hungry, he needed to get out of the office.

In the act of locking away the material on his desk, he glanced at the phone. What he’d really like would be to go home and have lunch with Rachel. That was what he’d really like. In fact… Just as he reached for the phone, it rang. Grabbing it, he barked his name into the receiver.

“Jake? You sound busy. Sorry. It’s Rachel.”

“No. I’m…” He sank into his chair and swiveled so that he could see outside. The frown on his face vanished. He could feel his frustration easing. “Hi, honey. I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh? Well, I hate to bother you th—”

“You never bother me, Rachel. I always have time for my wife.”

“This won’t take long. I—”

“How’s it going this morning at Tidewater General? Got your finger on the pulse of things?”

“Jake—”

He chuckled. “A little medical humor there, darlin’.” He squinted through the window, trying to tell whether it was drizzling rain or just dingy panes. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, but—”

“How about having it with me? We could try Santini’s. We haven’t been there in a long time.”

“I don’t think so, Jake.”

“Campbell does give you time to eat, doesn’t he?” Jake turned away from the view. The frown was back. “Jake…”

He heard the exasperation in her voice and cursed himself. Bad-mouthing Campbell was hardly the way to talk her into going anywhere with him. He swallowed the jealousy that made his fingers tighten on the phone and spoke softly. “Sorry, honey. I’m having a downer of a day. However, daydreaming about my beautiful wife keeps me up.”

There was a moment’s silence, then she chuckled.

Jake closed his eyes, savoring the sound of Rachel’s laugh. Idly, he polished his wedding ring along the top of his thigh. “If you can’t have lunch with me, then what can I do for you?”

“Michael just called from school. They’re out early and he forgot to tell me this morning. I can’t get away right now to pick him up, and I thought maybe you could send over a squad car or something. That is, if you can’t pick him up yourself.”

“No problem.” He stood up. “I won’t have to eat alone after all. We’ll grab something at the Burger Barn and then I’ll drop him off at the house.”

“Thanks. Tell him I’ll be home around three-thirty, as usual.”

“Got it.”

“Well…bye.”

He kissed her through the wire. “Bye, sweetheart.”

R
ACHEL REPLACED
the receiver, feeling shaky and oddly flustered. She had always reacted to Jake’s voice. When he used that deep, quiet tone, it was like a caress.

“Hey, pretty lady.”

“Ron! Ah, hello.”

Ron gave her a smile that hinted of a familiarity between them that made Rachel slightly wary. He swept a look over her neat desk and tidy work area. “Hmm. It looks as though you have things under control here.”

“Don’t judge my efficiency by the way things look. You should see my In basket.”

He moved around so he stood at her shoulder, crowding her into the L of her work area. “Where is it?”

“Hidden,” she said. “I keep it in this drawer.” She pulled at a drawer that was blocked by his body so that he had to shift away from her.

“I’m sure you’ll handle it with your usual aplomb.” With that, he relaxed against the edge of her desk, crossing his ankles. “Helen Falco can’t say enough about the way you’ve settled in here.”

“Oh. That’s nice to hear.” She laughed ruefully.
“There were a few times when I wondered if I should have remained a volunteer.”

“Don’t even think it.” He reached over and patted her hand. “It was our lucky day when you decided to take a real job.” He stood up briskly. “So, have you had lunch yet?”

“No. I’d planned to work through my lunch hour. I really am swamped, Ron. I brought some yogurt and an apple. I can manage on that.”

“We’ll just be in the cafeteria. A quick tray won’t take much longer.” He lifted one eyebrow. “All work and no play…as they say.”

“I shouldn’t…” She looked at the stack of insurance forms.

“Actually, you could consider it a working lunch,” he said, catching her by the elbow and gently pulling her to her feet. “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”

She reached for her purse. “Well, I suppose a few minutes won’t make much difference.”

“Hardly.” His hand remained at her waist even after they reached the elevator. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Rachel stared hard at the call button. Finally, using it as an excuse to free herself, she took a step away from Ron and jiggled it.

“This thing is so slow sometimes.”

“You look delicious in that pink outfit.”

Delicious? Rachel felt the blush that rose from her neck. Her heart began to pound with a sense
of danger, but while she was trying to decide what to do, there was a ping overhead and the elevator door slid open. With his hand once more at the small of her back, Ron ushered her inside.

The cafeteria was packed with the usual lunch-hour crowd. Rachel selected a salad and a hard roll, and after a small skirmish with Ron over who would pay—which he won—she followed him through the tables to the single remaining booth.

“What was it you wanted to discuss, Ron?” she asked as soon as they were seated.

He leaned back, studying her silently for so long that she felt heat bloom in her cheeks again. What was he doing? Suddenly Jake’s suspicions didn’t seem so farfetched. Her hands not quite steady, she broke the crusty roll in half. Crumbs flew everywhere—into her salad, onto the table, into her lap.

“Look at me,” she murmured, brushing at them clumsily. Was this the way affairs began? If so, she would never manage to have one. She was just too…too…

“I am looking and I like what I see.”

Her gaze flew to his. “Ron, I don’t think—”

He reached for her hand. “Am I going too fast?” He squeezed her fingers. “Okay. No problem.” He reached for his napkin and spread it on his lap. “So, on to business. How do you feel about coming to work as my assistant?”

She looked at him in amazement.

He grinned. “What?”

“I’m just…surprised.”

“What’s so surprising about my wanting to grab you before somebody else does? You’re wasted in Emergency. You’ve organized the paperwork, reduced the drag time between insurance claims dramatically, charmed the housekeeping people into making the place neater and cleaner than it’s ever been and acted as resident psychologist for the freaked-out cases who wander in from the streets. Call me selfish, but when I see someone with that kind of talent, I want that person at work where the hospital benefits most.”

Rachel stared at her untasted salad. Her heart soared. She’d been working at a real job only a few weeks and here was proof that she could handle it, that she was
good
at it. That she was able to do more than just manage a house and cater to the whims of a husband. An unfaithful husband. “Well?”

She looked up. “I’m flattered, Ron. Thank you. But I’m not so sure your confidence is warranted. I might not do as well in the business office of the hospital as I do in Emergency.”

“Trust me, you’d be great. You’d be perfect. We’d make a dynamite team.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, what I mean is that I like it in the emergency room. I
like the…drama, I guess. We never know who’s going to come in. We never know what’s going to happen.” She shrugged.

“I’d pay you big money.”

“That’s not it.” Still smiling, she glanced beyond Ron to the entrance of the cafeteria. The crowd had doubled since they came in, and now the line reached almost to the exit. Her eyes traveled idly over those waiting and her heart gave a little jolt. Jake was standing there watching her. Ignoring the ebb and flow of the crowd, he seemed carved in stone. A few people spoke, but, grim-faced, he acknowledged no one. After another moment or two, he turned on his heel and left.

R
ACHEL WORKED LATE
. The insurance forms were finished and every patient waiting for treatment processed before she finally called it a day. It wasn’t her nature to allow paperwork to pile up, she told herself. So when the woman arrived to relieve her, she’d shifted to another workstation and used the opportunity to catch up.

In the car, she glanced at the time and realized dinner would be late unless she picked up fast food. It took another thirty minutes to do that. The smell of fried chicken made her realize how hungry she was. At lunch, she’d barely swallowed six bites.

Lunch. There was no reason for her to feel
guilty, she told herself, pulling into traffic. She had been having lunch with a man, true, but it was business. Jake had overreacted.

She turned into the driveway of her house a little too fast. The problem with Jake was that he overreacted a lot lately. She had been such a pansy most of their married life that now she was getting a life of her own he was clinging to old habits with a vengeance. She shivered, recalling the look in his eye as he’d stood in the doorway of the cafeteria. Jake had never looked at her quite like that.

She caught up her purse and the box of chicken and opened the car door. Michael appeared instantly from the vicinity of the backyard, a stranger at his heels. Frowning, she closed the door and waited as they headed toward her.

“Hi, Miss Rachel. Sorry about the mix-up in transportation today. Dad picked me up.” He glanced at his companion. “Us, I mean. This is Todd Stewart.”

“Hi.”

Michael and his friend were about the same age and size, but all similarity ended there. Todd Stewart wore a single earring, the proper accessory for his long punk-style hair, she assumed. His sneakers looked ludicrously oversize with his baggy pants. She blinked at the wild print—a dizzying pattern of black, neon orange and green on a white background. Compared with his pants, the
black cutoff T-shirt—featuring a picture of Sid Vicious—was hardly out of the ordinary. Rachel tried to hide her dismay as he stuck out his hand.

She took it. “Uh, hi, Todd.” His earring was actually a skull and crossbones!

“I showed Todd the boat and everything,” Michael volunteered.

“Wow, man. I mean, radical.
It’s radical.
”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “You’re at THS, Todd?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been at a few other schools, but I’m at Tidewater right now.”

She glanced quickly at Michael, then back to Todd. “A few other schools?” she echoed faintly.