by Pamela Tracy
“I don’t have a dog this time,” came a voice.
Leann jumped. Cops were never supposed to be caught off guard, but she had been. Gary stood there, hands in his pockets, serious expression on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
He stayed a few feet away, hands at his sides, looking so serious that she almost went to him.
“Well,” he said, “I watched you leave the station. I told myself that I needed to give you space, drive Lydia home, keep busy. Seems Lydia didn’t need me. She and Jace jumped in the back of Russell’s truck, so I didn’t have any passengers, and quite frankly, there’s only one passenger I want.”
She’d not cried, not when she saw her father’s likeness in the drawing, not when she’d told everyone at the police station, “A thousand a month would be nothing to him.” And not when Brian Blackgoat had muttered, “I’d rather have been fathered by Guzman.”
Gary, though, threatened to bring her emotions all crumbling down, and if the faucet turned on, she might not ever be able to turn it off. “It’s not a good time,” she managed.
“No, it’s not a good time, but I’m not here for just good times. I’m here for bad times, too.”
She shook her head even as he took a step in her direction.
“I have no clue how to help you. I’ve just discovered that I don’t have a half brother, and you’ve discovered that you do. We’ve reversed situations. It took me days to come to terms with the scenario. I’d just decided this morning, thanks to you, that I would give Brian a chance and that my top priority would be helping my mother deal with it.”
Leann tried to laugh but managed only a dry chortle. “My mother will choose not to deal with it. She’ll tell my father to do whatever it takes to bury the problem.”
“Only a few lights on.” Gary looked at the house.
Leann could only nod.
“So,” he asked, “what is your plan when you confront your father? You do have one, right? I can certainly understand why you hightailed it over here,” he said. “However, in combat, the adrenaline rush, whether it’s from fear or anger or some other emotion, is a powerful weapon made weak if not accompanied by a well-thought-out plan.”
“Another mantra?”
“No, I came up with the saying just now.”
She again tried to laugh but snorted, very unladylike, instead. “I don’t have a plan. How do you plan for something like this?”
“What do you want from your father?”
“I want him to confess.”
“What will that get you?”
Leann thought a moment, not liking her first inclination, which was putting her father in his place. He didn’t have a place, not really.
“Do you want him to acknowledge the affair?” Gary asked. “Acknowledge Brian? Pay for Brian’s court costs along with Russell?”
“All of it and none of it?” she confessed. “I just want...” Did she know what she wanted? Her father had never really been involved in her life. Why was she surprised that he’d had another child he’d not been involved with?
“What were you thinking about on your drive here? Besides confronting your father.”
“I was thinking about talking to my siblings, drawing closer to them, cutting ties with my parents completely.”
“Do you really have ties to your parents?”
“Only when they suggest to the mayor that their daughter might not be the best choice for chief of police.”
“We can deal with that. My aunt’s suggestions were spot-on.”
We?
Gary wasn’t done. “When was the last time you sat down to dinner with your parents?”
She didn’t even have to calculate. “Over two years ago. We sat at the same table at a picnic to raise money for the new fire station.”
“Did you act as a family?”
“No, my father had to ask which of my boys was the oldest.”
Gary whistled. “Then I like your idea about drawing closer to your siblings. I like the concept of a big family.”
She interrupted, “But—”
He took two steps and had her in his arms before she could finish. He tugged her upward, so she stood on her tiptoes, and that’s when he kissed her.
“Just think how big our cookouts are going to be after we get married.”
“Married! We haven’t even really dated! And, this is a horrible time to propose! I’m standing in front of my parents’ house. My father—”
“Trust me, your father will not be invited to the cookouts.”
Later, Leann couldn’t say whether it was Gary’s humor that had her considering giving a yes or the kisses that distracted her from where she was and what she needed to do. And, surely what had her so confused and even considering his being a part of her life, her kids’ life, was he was such a rock in the middle of turmoil.
She should be on her knees crying. Instead, she was in his arms feeling a whirlwind of emotions and all of them making her feel strong and hopeful about the future.
“I’ll eventually want a better proposal,” she finally said between kisses.
“I can do that,” Gary promised.
“Maybe,” she said, “you can propose at a nice restaurant, or maybe at a cookout at Russell’s.”
“You do like your food.” He kissed her, let her go and walking back to his vehicle. She watched as he opened the door and retrieved something. A moment later, he was holding out a pink envelope to her.
“What’s this?”
“Open it,” he urged.
She took it, slid a finger through the flap and pulled out what was inside.
“A Valentine’s Day card! You bought me a Valentine’s Day card.”
“I did, but it’s all wrong.”
She shook her head.
Facing her, he traced her cheek with his finger. “When I bought the card, I wanted you to be my valentine. I was thinking no further than a little romance. Now I know that would never be enough. I realize it’s only been a few weeks and I know your life has never been more chaotic, but, I’ve been with you every step of the way, and I’m offering to do the same forever.”
She bit her lip and tried to breathe.
Gary checked his watch. “Eleven fifty-nine. You have just sixty seconds to say yes to a proposal given on Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day?”
“That’s right. It’s February fourteenth. Fifty-eight seconds. The perfect day to say I love you for the first time.”
It was all going too fast, and just how was a person supposed to act when switching from hot anger to ecstatic anticipation in mere seconds?
Leann tried to rein in her happy thoughts. Love?
“Fifty-two seconds. But, trust me, I’ll wait fifty-two days, weeks, years, if that’s what it takes to get a yes.”
“One knee,” she ordered.
Gary Guzman got down on one knee. Leann let the tears fall, then, but not the hot blinding spill of emotion that had been threatening all day. No, these tears were cool, opening her eyes to a future with Gary Guzman. And, oh, would she have a story to tell about the timing of his proposal. She dropped down on one knee, too, and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, soldier.”
“Is that a yes?”
She couldn’t decide whether to kiss him, tell him she loved him, or say, “Yes!”
So, she did all three.
EPILOGUE
LEANN RUBBED HER STOMACH, stared across the arcade portion of the pizza restaurant and watched Aaron. He’d spent the whole evening running to her and asking, “Are you all right?”
The smell of tomato sauce made her ill.
He always followed his first question with, “Can I have another five dollars in quarters?”
Gary’s mother turned out to be a regular pigg
y bank when it came to celebrating her grandson’s birthday.
Leann checked her watch. Gary was due any minute. She’d not allowed Aaron to pass out the cake or open presents until his stepdad arrived. Ryan agreed. “It’s gotta be hard for a cop to get his son’s birthday off when half the station is related.”
Leann smiled and nodded. In truth, Gary had gotten off work thirty minutes ago and was picking up the puppy that would belong solely to Aaron.
Max had returned stateside two weeks ago, and Wilma was no longer part of their family. Leann wasn’t sure the family needed a third dog, especially when she was about to have her third child, but she couldn’t say no.
She rubbed her stomach again.
“More water?” Trudy offered her. In her neat red blouse tucked into tan pants and topped with an apron that read EAT MORE PIZZA, she barely resembled the troubled girl who’d arrived in town two years ago.
While Trudy was successfully navigating the ins and outs of her first job, her father was, of all things, starting to raise sheep. He had the best teacher in Russell. For the last six months, Gary, Aaron and Tim had spent a lot of time at Russell’s place, helping with fencing and such. Jace even drove in once a month to help.
So far, a profit hadn’t been made, but who knew what the future held.
“Russell’s having more fun that Aaron.” Gary’s mother noted.
Both Aaron and Russell were seated before identical race car games. Their shoulders swayed back and forth as their cars careened across the screen.
“He’s dismantling the shooting range,” Leann said. “Trudy’s afraid someone will accidentally hurt a sheep.”
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Gary’s mom agreed. “Great granddaughters usually have that ability.”
Just then, Gary entered the restaurant. He set a squirming laundry basket on the table and then bent to kiss her.
Melanie came and sat down next to Leann. “Another dog?”
“What’s one more?” Leann noted Melanie’s bulging tummy. They were due three weeks apart.
Just then, Shelley, Leann’s sister-in-law joined them. Her husband Oscar was at the station. He’d swing by on his break. Shelley handed little Roberto over to her mother-in-law.
Leann gently brushed the soft hair from Berto’s forehead. The last year had been nothing but one miracle after another.
She’d even become closer to her brother and younger sister.
She knew Gary was thankful for everything that had happened, too. He’d put down lasting roots. Joined the police force too. His goal for the next year was to build a larger house on their property so his mother could come live with them. She’d finally retired. And, best of all, there was closure for the whole Guzman clan. The remains of Roberto Guzman—husband, father, brother—had been discovered by hikers just four miles from the family cabin.
He hadn’t walked out on his family. They might not know every detail, but the consensus from the forensic medical team was he’d fallen down an incline and died on impact.
Gary put his fingers to his lips and whistled. It brought everyone over except Russell and Gary’s aunt Bianca, who’d taken Aaron’s place at the race car game. Who said only the young knew how to have fun.
The puppy, however, no longer wanted to be in the laundry basket. It nudged the towel off the top, peeked out—to the delight of the partiers—and then scrambled right onto the birthday cake.
“Good thing we didn’t light the candles,” Leann said.
Gary started to get up, but between Brian, Trudy, and everyone else, everything was soon cleaned up.
“Have I told you today how much I love you?” Gary asked.
“Twice this morning and once on the phone,” Leann affirmed.
“How did the visit to the doctor go? Wish I could have been there.”
“I went with her,” his mother said. “It was pretty spectacular.”
Gary laughed. “Not how Leann usually describes the visits.”
Leann agreed with his mother. “This one was pretty spectacular.”
“Why?”
“Well,” Leann said, “let’s look around. We’ve got a Tim, an Aaron, and Little O, and your mother is holding Berto.”
“So?” Gary said.
“All boys.”
“Yesssssss.” Gary sat up. “What? You’re kidding.”
Leann put her hands on either side of his face. “Not kidding. I hope you’re ready for a girl.”
Their kiss might have lasted longer except for Aaron dropping a frosting-covered puppy in Gary’s lap.
Aaron nuzzled the dog’s fur and wound up with frosting around his lips, which he licked clean. “Sorry, mom. I’ll try to watch out for it better when we’re at home.”
“A girl,” Gary breathed. “We’ll get her a puppy, too.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Rancher to Remember by Karen Rock.
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A Rancher to Remember
by Karen Rock
CHAPTER ONE
“THIS WAY! QUICKLY!”
Cassidy Fulton scrambled after her gesturing guide through the Philippines’ tropical forest on unsteady legs. In the distance, another round of rapid-fire blasts from semiautomatic weapons peppered the sticky-hot night. Screams followed it. Her breath rasped in her throat and her blood raged. Something wet and scaly slithered over the top of her boots. Cicadas buzzed in her ears. From a strap slung around her neck, her trusty Canon Rebel T5i banged against her jumping belly. It traveled with her on every journalism assignment, from the frigid heights of Siberia to the sandy shores of the Dead Sea.
Her guide held up a hand and they halted to crouch on the edge of Quezon City, their position hidden by thick vines and ferns. She lifted her camera, aimed it through a gap in the foliage and pressed the shutter-release button in quick, muffled bursts.
Do not think.
Do not feel.
Document.
Through her lens, she recorded officers tossing limp-bodied men onto a truck. Some of the policemen joked. Others smoked. None seemed in any rush to transport the injured to the hospital in accordance with their “official” protocol for battling suspected drug dealers. As part of her investigative piece about the rumored executions of suspects—a secret policy to rid the island of its drug trade—she’d traveled the Philippines for the past month, interviewing government officials, locals and hospital personnel to
uncover the truth.
And here it was...in black-and-white. The knowledge was like getting hit by a speeding train, and then getting stuck under the wheels and dragged down a bumpy track. Her camera captured the stained ground and the wide-eyed children clinging to their wailing mothers’ skirts. Behind them stood crumbling industrial complexes serving as makeshift living quarters for this drug-riddled community. Stray dogs scurried into dark alleys.
“What’s she saying?” Cassidy whispered in her guide’s ear, her camera trained on a gesticulating young woman. Her bare feet peeked from beneath the ragged hem of a sundress and tears rolled down her sunken cheeks.
“He is innocent. My husband is innocent,” the guide murmured.
“And that woman?” Cassidy captured image after image, her heart breaking despite her resolve to remain detached. Regardless of her ten years as a conflict journalist and despite having exposed some of the most heinous crimes against humanity, she’d failed to acquire the hard shell other professionals adopted. Her heart had not yet turned to stone...though she wished it would in times like this.
“Why? Why? Why?” the guide relayed. “Another is calling the officers murderers.”
“Those are close-range shots.” As she zoomed her lens, the evening’s meal rose back up to the base of her throat. Think of the greater good...not what you see...but what you will expose. Change. “They had no time to defend themselves.”
“I see no weapons other than the police’s.”
Sweat broke out across her hairline. At the guide’s astute observation, Cassidy swapped her lens for a wide angle to capture the crucial shot. Such pictures brought worldwide condemnation against brutal regimes like this. Consequences. Sanctions. She leaned forward, and a twig snapped beneath her foot. Cassidy’s heart tumbled as officers froze at the loud crack. Heads snapped in their direction, and narrowed eyes scanned their hiding place. At a shouted order, a trio of rifle-carrying officers raced their way.
No!
A tremor coursed through her as the guide grabbed Cassidy’s hand and yanked her back through the thick bramble.
“Pagagil! Pagagil!” the officers shouted behind them.
