Protected by a Hero

by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne

  He recognized her jeans and black Converse. Her shirt was simple – a white cotton pullover with a wide scoop neck revealing her collarbone and a splash of freckles. It was cut closer than her Dottie’s tee-shirts, skimming her ribs and stopping just above the curve of her hip. He liked it much better than her work uniform.

  And he’d never seen her hair down before. She wore it pulled back into a ponytail at Dottie’s. Now, her blonde hair hung in waves below her shoulders. His palm itched. What would her hair feel like sliding across it? Silky and fine like gossamer? Thick and heavy like satin rope? He shut down the stirring low in his belly the only way he knew how. “Someone could walk in off the streets,” he growled again, voice rough, but not from impatience.

  She rolled her eyes and stepped around him. “I know pretty much everyone in the park. Who’s it gonna be? Waldrons? Bateses? Oh, let me guess. Angelina Sanchez who’s seventy-six? Besides.” She waved a hand around the tiny space. “It’s not like I have anything worth taking.”

  Travis scanned the small room again. Not even a TV. Damn. He’d gone Captain Caveman, and it had been completely unnecessary. Maybe he did need a chaperone. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Still. You should always keep the door locked.”

  Elaine made a face as she grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Dax. “So someone can kick in the door and take… oh, I don’t know… my coffee maker? Puhleeze.”

  “What’s that?” Dax asked, pointing to the Transformer still encased in his hand.

  Shit. What an ass. He squatted low so he was eye level with the little boy. “You excited for today?”

  Dax looked uncertain.

  Travis held out the Transformer. “I thought this might help. So you can have a friend with you if you get scared.”

  Dax took it, his eyes brightening. “Mommy says horses aren’t scary.”

  “They’re friendly. I think you’ll like them.”

  “Dax,” Elaine cut in. “What do you tell Officer Kincaid?”

  Travis shook his head, an ache forming in his throat at the formality of it. “Just Travis, okay?”

  Dax nodded, his eyes in big circles as a smile brightened his face. “Thanks.” He drained his glass and held it out for Elaine, who took it and placed it in the sink.

  “All right, kiddo. Outside.” Elaine smiled indulgently and ruffled her son’s hair.

  The ache in Travis’s throat grew. There was pure love on her face, and it lit her up, smoothing out the worry lines that were too many on a face so young. His stomach flip-flopped at the sight of it. Elaine gave him a funny look as she stepped around him and paused in the threshold. “Are you coming?”

  He stood. “Are you going to lock the door?”

  She made a scoffing noise and, shaking her head, disappeared down the steps. He followed, quickening his pace to catch up with her. “You should lock the door.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  He dragged his eyes away from her full lower lip, which now jutted out as she scowled at him. So. Cute. He fisted his hand to keep from reaching a thumb out to touch it. “It keeps you safe. And bad people out.”

  “Or good people locked in. No thank you.”

  Weston interrupted their standoff. “Are you two going to stand there arguing, or are we going to go ride horses?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She wasn’t used to being bossed. She’d been on her own for too long to take orders from anyone except herself. And she damned well wasn’t going to lock her door. No way, no how. She’d never let herself become trapped in a small space again. Not if she could help it. He was lucky he was so damned handsome.

  Travis looked even better out of uniform than she remembered. Her heart had taken up residence in her throat when she’d come out of her bedroom to see him towering in the entryway, looking delicious in worn denims and a soft plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She hadn’t realized until that instant that it was possible to go wet from staring at someone’s forearms.

  Then he’d had to go and give Dax a Transformer. One that he’d been begging her to buy for weeks. And the way Travis always got down on eye level when he spoke to Dax? Melted her. She wasn’t sure she had insides anymore. They’d turned to goo. Not to mention, he was standing so close she could smell his aftershave. A piney, masculine scent that did a second number on her panties.

  This isn’t a date. This isn’t about you.

  With a resigned huff, she turned and held her hand out to Dax. “You ready to be a cowboy today?” Her heart twisted at the fear radiating back at her. He’d never been afraid of anything before the tornado. He’d been one-hundred percent rambunctious and too curious for his own good. She knelt down and pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay, sweetie. No one’s going to get hurt. I promise. And Travis and Weston are here, right?” Dax nodded, flicking a glance at the men behind her. “Would Travis let you get hurt?” Her throat tightened that she had to say it, that she could no longer reassure her son on her own that he would be safe. Guilt stabbed at her. She never should’ve given him the money to go to the Five ’n Dime that afternoon. But he’d done it a thousand times. And he felt like one of the big boys, going half a block down the street on his own. “And I’ll be there too, sweetheart. Mama’s not going anywhere. Will you try?”

  “Can I ride with him?” He shook the Transformer clutched in his hand.

  “Gotta use both hands for the reins,” Travis answered. “But I can keep him in my pocket for you.”

  That was enough for Dax. He nodded and moved to the truck. Travis followed him around to the passenger side. “Do you know how to buckle him in?” Elaine called as she hurried to catch up.

  Travis shot her a look of exasperation, but his eyes were filled with a gentle humor. “Learned that the first week of police academy.”

  “Just checking.” She placed a foot on the running board.

  Travis’s hand wrapped around her elbow. A zing of electricity went straight to her belly. “More room up front.”

  “Even with three of us?”

  Weston opened the driver’s door. “Might as well call this truck a Cadillac.”

  But that would mean… at least fifteen minutes of being pressed up against Travis. Her body hummed with glee. “Oh I don’t mind sitting back with Dax. Really. It’s no problem.”

  Travis didn’t answer. He pushed the seat back and climbed in the middle, and turned, extending his hand. “More room for you on the outside.” He beckoned, giving her a slow smile. “C’mon. I promise I won’t bite.”

  Too bad. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of a few places she wouldn’t mind being bitten. Or at least licked. She took his hand and allowed him to help her up into the cab. Their fingers brushed again as she reached to buckle herself. She glanced at him through her lashes. This had to be uncomfortable for him sitting in the middle.

  He stretched his hand across the back of her seat and craned his head to look at Dax. “You okay back there, buddy?”

  Dax gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Travis turned back to face front as Weston pulled the truck around the u-shaped street, but he didn’t remove his hand. Every cell in her body longed to burrow into his strong embrace, to tuck herself next to him and lose herself in his masculine scent. But she couldn’t do that. Not in front of Dax and not with him. She squeezed her knees together, putting an inch of distance between their legs. If she didn’t, she’d rub up against him like a cat in heat.

  As if sensing her discomfort, Travis slid a look at her, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then he turned back to Dax. “I can’t wait for you to learn how to ride a horse today. I was about your age when I learned to ride on my own. Although my dad took me out on his lap all the time.”

  “I don’t have a dad,” Dax answered matter-of-factly.

  A stone dropped through Elaine’s stomach as she braced for the inevitable questions. Leave it to her son to throw the awkward wrench into the conversation. Alth
ough relief still coursed through her that Dax’s father was out of the picture for good. She shuddered to think what it would be like for her son now if the man were still alive.

  Travis shot her a questioning glance, as if to say, what do I do now?

  “That’s okay,” Weston offered from the driver’s seat. “Travis doesn’t have a dad anymore either.”

  Elaine gave a shaky laugh, relieved that Weston had saved her from a complicated and uncomfortable explanation. “That makes three of us.”

  “We’re the same,” came the small voice from the back seat.

  “Yeah, sweetie. We are.”

  By the time they pulled to a stop in front of the Hansens’ farmhouse, Elaine ached from holding her body so still. She grabbed the door and hopped out as soon as Weston cut the engine, shaking the excess energy from her hands as soon as her feet touched the ground. Travis unfolded himself, and before she could protest, had reached in to pull Dax out of the back seat. Taking the boy’s hand, Travis led Dax down to where the horses waited in the corral.

  Weston flashed her a quick grin and followed.

  It was sweet, the way the men had taken an interest in Dax. And good for Dax. He needed positive role models in his life. Lord knew, she could have benefitted from one. Anyone. She ambled after the men to where Hope was waiting for them by the fence. Travis had Dax in his arms, holding him up so he could touch the horse’s nose. The smile on Dax’s face said it all. Warmth flooded her, and she blinked rapidly. She’d give anything to see the old Dax again.

  Travis put down Dax, and Hope bent with an extended hand. “I see you already met Lucy. Would you like to ride her?”

  Dax slipped his hand into Travis’s and leaned into him. In answer, Travis wrapped his arm protectively around Dax.

  “Mommy’s right behind you,” she called out. She was the parent here. It wasn’t Travis’s job to provide that kind of support. She started forward, but Weston put a restraining arm in front of her.

  “He’s going to be just fine. Travis grew up on horseback.”

  “But–”

  Weston silenced her with a shake of his head. “This is good for Travis, too.”

  Just before they entered the ring, Travis bent over and said something to Dax. Dax looked back and gave her two thumbs up, while Travis tucked the Transformer into his shirt pocket. It was ridiculous how sexy he looked with that thing sticking out of his chest pocket.

  But as she and Weston moved to the fence, her palms got sweaty. Lucy was a big horse. And Dax was so small. Her breathing grew quick and shallow. Seeing Dax next to Travis, next to the tall fence, and in front of a horse nearly twice his size only reminded her how lucky he’d been to come out of the tornado alive. She clutched the railing to stop her hands from shaking.

  Hope looked over their direction and hurried over. Was it that obvious she was terrified? Hope flashed her an easy smile. “You have nothing to worry about. Lucy is one of our gentlest mares. She’s been through this process hundreds of times. I’m going to be taking them through some exercises with Lucy that will facilitate bonding for both of them.”

  Elaine nodded, her voice lost somewhere in the back of her throat. Hope reached out, giving her arm a squeeze through the bars. “I can only imagine how you’re feeling. I want to assure you, working with horses can help him. There’s a true connection between horses and humans. They can sense our innermost thoughts, help us bring them to the surface. They accept us just as we are. And there’s no feeling in the world like when a horse joins up with you.”

  “It’s true,” Weston chimed in. “I spent time with an organization in Montana working with horses. Changed my life. They’ll be okay. Better than okay.”

  Elaine stood at the rails for the better part of an hour, transfixed, while Hope showed Dax how to hold a lead line, and with Travis’s help took him through the steps necessary for the horse to follow him. She swore Dax grew two inches taller when he realized the horse was following him around the pen.

  “Good job, Dax,” Travis called out quietly.

  Her chest hitched at the smile Dax returned to Travis.

  “Okay, Dax. I’m gonna saddle up Lucy now. Would you like to ride her?”

  The fear returned to his eyes, and he shook his head. Elaine sighed heavily. Two steps forward, three steps back.

  “He’ll get there,” Weston said, keeping his eyes on the pair in the ring. “It’s not gonna happen overnight.”

  Across the ring, Travis got low and spoke to Dax, who then nodded and stepped back. Travis clicked at Lucy, and the horse followed him to the center of the arena. In a fluid motion, Travis mounted up. Weston was right, Travis was a natural on horseback. Holding the reins in one hand, he looked like the quintessential cowboy – worn hat, dusty boots, faded denim that clung to his muscled thighs. Elaine didn’t realize she’d sighed until Weston shot her a funny look. She quickly schooled her features and ignored the goosebumps cascading down her chest.

  Travis wheeled Lucy around and stopped in front of Hope and Dax. With Hope’s help, he pulled Dax up in front of him and settled him in the saddle. Elaine’s breath caught. Not for the first time, she wished she had a camera to capture the moment. Travis relaxed and smiling, with one arm slung across a beaming Dax’s middle.

  “Perfect photo-op for a future county sheriff,” Weston called out.

  Travis’s jaw set and he shook his head once.

  Weston whipped out his phone and snapped a picture. “Don’t worry, I’ll only use the picture if you give your permission.”

  “For what?”

  “A warm and fuzzy mailer when Travis runs for sheriff.”

  “Oh.” Her blood ran cold. “He’s running for county sheriff?” she repeated when she found her voice again.

  “He will. Mark my words.”

  And he’d win, too. Because Travis was great at everything. She should know better than to dream. But for a brief moment she couldn’t help it. Seeing Travis with Dax had her longing to be part of a real family. How wonderful it would be for Dax to have a father figure. Regret stuck in her throat. A sour reminder that other people belonged in nice families, not her.

  Hope held Lucy’s halter while Travis dismounted and left the pen, and then she started leading Lucy in a circle while Dax held onto the saddle. Travis joined Elaine at the rail. “He’s a good kid.”

  She nodded, her tongue too thick to speak. Swallowing hard, she dug deep. She and Dax were a family, and that’s what mattered. “Yeah. The best.”

  After they’d circled the arena a dozen times, Hope helped Dax dismount. Elaine swept him up in a hug when he came around to where they stood waiting. “I’m so proud of you. You were so brave in there. Did you have fun?”

  He nodded. “Hope said I could go up to the house and get some cookies?”

  “You bet. Did you say thanks?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not yet, I didn’t eat them.”

  Elaine covered a laugh. It was nice to see a little of his sass back. Dax hustled up the hill, a hint of a bounce in his step. Maybe someday soon the full bounce would return. Kids his age still bounced when they walked, and the knot of worry for her son wouldn’t unravel until she saw him bouncing again.

  Hope joined them at the rail. “I hope you’ll let him come again, Elaine. I think we can make good progress with him. And you two,” she eyed the men. “Why not help me train the next round of mustangs I’m bringing up from the BLM auction next weekend?”

  “I’m out.” Weston clapped Travis on the shoulder. “I’ll be covering for the candidate, but Travis is in, so long as we can use some photos for his campaign.”

  “Would you stop saying I’m running?” Travis ground out. “I only said I’d think about it.”

  “Marion County loves a rancher, and what better image to convey that the next county sheriff is a man of the people? Lawson ain’t that.”

  “Except that it’s wrong. I haven’t ranched since before I went into the Navy.”

  Weston rol
led his eyes. “You’ve got the heart of a rancher. That’s what matters.”

  “But it’s about law enforcement. Not ranching.”

  “Everyone knows that Travis Kincaid is a rule-keeper through and through. Not. Worried.”

  A weight pressed on Elaine’s chest. She’d broken more rules than she cared to count.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  At eleven on the nose, Travis pushed back from his desk at the station. “I’m going for coffee,” he said as he passed Jeanine, his right-hand assistant and dispatcher.

  “I’ll catch up,” called Weston from his spot where he stood holding up the wall while flirting with Jeanine. Good luck with that. She was a tough nut to crack. She’d been at the station longer than he had, and he’d seen countless guys vie for her attention over the years. It was downright entertaining the way she could reduce even the toughest cops to a puddle with a witty insult.

  Travis pushed out the door and into the humid mid-day sun. He’d sweat through his uniform on the walk over. But it could be worse. He could be on a jungle floor in Kevlar in Colombia. No thanks. He kept fresh shirts at the station for just this purpose. Donning his aviators, he started across the street. The three-block walk took no more than five minutes, and he scanned the area for Elaine as soon as the picnic tables came into view.

  What shirt would she be wearing today? He stopped at the corner of the food truck as soon as he spotted her. Pink. She bent to pick up trash from a table, and he ignored the rush of blood that bypassed his brain and dove straight to his balls. But what struck him today and didn’t sit well with him was the way she pulled on her shoulder after she dumped the garbage in the barrel. It hit him with the force of a charging bull. Fuck him for never noticing before. She was exhausted. He could see it now. Plain as day. The pinch at her shoulder blades, the slump of her shoulders when she thought no one was looking. He pushed off the corner and moved to intercept her. “Here,” he said gruffly as she turned his direction, her hands full of paper plates and cups, the top one filled with plastic silverware and napkins. “Let me.” He took them from her and made the trip to the barrel. “Why doesn’t Dottie make a big sign telling everyone to pick up their trash?”