by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
He nodded rapidly.
She handed him a looped lead line. “Okay, I’m going to be right here next to you the whole time.”
Travis hung back by the gate, watching with a combination of excitement and pride as Hope took the boy through the same process she’d taken the adults.
Cassidy came to stand next to him, her eyes fixed on the pair in the ring. After a minute, she spoke. “You were right, you know. About the horses helping. Thanks.”
“I know someone you can talk to if you decide to take the plunge. It’s been… helpful.” He wouldn’t admit that to many people, that his sessions in Manhattan with Dr. Munger had helped him. But maybe by being the example, she’d see that talking to someone wasn’t as scary as being afraid to go to sleep.
Cassie narrowed her eyes. “Does this bend toward self-improvement have to do with running for sheriff or with a certain lady?”
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “We all have shit to deal with. Maybe I just got tired of hauling mine around for so long.”
“Hhmph.”
“Hey Travis, look!” Dax called enthusiastically from atop Sunny. “I’m riding all by myself.”
The warm spot in his chest grew. “Lookin’ good there, kiddo.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me take a picture and send it to your mom. She’ll be so proud of you.” Dax gave him a huge smile and he snapped a picture, sending it off in a quick text to Elaine.
Cassidy nudged him. “Your grin is about as big as his. What gives?”
His smile froze. “Nothing. He’s a good kid, that’s all.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I always knew the Navy was filled with bullshitters.” Pushing off the fence, she gave him a finger wave as she headed for her old Yamaha motorcycle. “See you ’round.”
Cassidy was wrong. He’d be proud of any kid who had begun to turn around the way Dax had. It was his job to be kind to all the children in Prairie. Teach them that police were friendly, safe. Sure, he liked Dax. Dax was a great kid. But it wasn’t like he was related to the boy.
The breeze shifted, bringing with it the scent of rain. Travis turned and studied the sky. Clouds were building to the southwest. They probably had another ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the rain came. Thunder rolled in the distance. Travis glanced over to the pen. Dax had stiffened in the saddle, face scrunched up.
Poor guy. He didn’t like storms much either since the tornado.
“Hope, let’s wrap things up. Storm’s a comin’”
She gave him a thumb up.
Travis circled the pen and came around to where Hope’s mustang, Buttercup, stood. “Come on, girl. Time to get you back to the barn.” He took the reins, and began leading the horse around to the barn. By the time Buttercup had been put in the stall and the tack put away, the sky had gone dark and big fat raindrops were splatting on the ground.
When he reached the pen, he could see Dax with his hands full of rope, eyes wide with fear. “It’s just a storm, Dax. No one’s going to get hurt. Take the rope to the tack room, and then head up to the house, will you?”
Hope handed Travis the reins to Sunny. “Take Sunny to the barn and tie her to the post. We can unsaddle her once we’ve put the rest of the stuff away.” She gestured to the remaining obstacles and tack at the far end of the arena.
He hurried to the barn with Sunny, looping her reins around a post halfway down the aisle, and turned just as a bright flash of lightning and an instant clap of thunder ripped across the sky. The heavens opened up, and the rain came down in curtains. Hunching his shoulders, he jogged to the pen, instantly soaked through. “I’ll take the rest. You head up to the house,” he shouted over the din. Hope handed him the last of the tack, and he raced for the barn.
The storm was a doozie. The rain came in sheets as black sky glowed where lightning popped around him. He hurried through the rest of the chores, glad that Hope was around to reassure Dax.
When he arrived on the back porch several minutes later, Hope handed him a towel. “I hope Cassie made it home before the rain hit,” she said breathlessly. “I haven’t been caught in a downpour like that in ages.”
“Me either.” Shaking out his Stetson, he scanned the porch, then went cold. “Where’s Dax?”
Hope gave him a funny look. “I thought he was following after you?”
He shook his head, icy fingers of dread clutching at his heart. “I sent him to the tack room with the ropes and told him to head up here.”
“I’ll check inside.”
Wind screamed through the trees as the rain pelted down furiously. But the sky didn’t have any of the sick green color that indicated tornadoes were close. This was just a big summer thunderstorm. Totally normal for Kansas in August. Travis tried to calm the rising panic in his chest. He was probably hiding somewhere inside, scared of the storm.
Hope returned, shaking her head. Travis was off the porch in a flash, running through the mud to the barn. Dax had to be in the barn. Goddammit. Why hadn’t he thought to check the weather today? Or ask Elaine how Dax had reacted to storms since the tornado? “Dax?” he called out as soon as he’d pushed open the barn door. “I’m here, Dax. Everything is okay.”
Nothing but the deafening sound of rain and thunder shaking the timbers. The storm was louder out here than in the house. Much louder. “Dax,” he yelled. Dread gnawed at him. He was a cop for chrissakes. Elaine had relied on him to keep her son safe, and he’d gone and lost the boy.
Travis searched the empty stalls. No Dax. A sick ache fisted in his chest as he checked the tack room. He paced the aisle. Where in the hell was he? Maybe in the loft? “Dax?” he shouted as he climbed. He would not give into panic. “Panic is not productive,” he chanted in time to his climbing. He squinted through the dim, looking for anything unusual or out of place. Nothing. And the storm was even louder up here. No place for a scared kid. Surely he couldn’t be out in the storm? Travis slid open the second-story door to look out, just in case, but he couldn’t see for shit. The heavy rain had reduced visibility to a few feet. Another bang of thunder shook the barn.
The ache in his chest grew, squeezing on his throat. “Think, Travis. Think. If you were scared, you’d try to make yourself as small as possible.” The boy had to be somewhere in the barn. He must have missed it in his panic. He climbed down the ladder and looked again in the stalls, giving extra care to the dark corners.
“Dax. Come out, buddy,” he choked out. “I’m here, kiddo.” He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to the boy. He stepped inside the tack room, flipping on the light this time. He passed over a pile of blankets, then paused, looking closer. “Dax?” He crossed the room in two steps, sinking to his knees. He pulled back the blanket and sagged with relief, hands shaking as the adrenaline released.
The sight of Dax curled into a tiny rigid ball, eyes squinched shut, a grimace on his face and fingers stuffed in his ears, shredded him to his core. His throat grew tight with emotion and his eyelids prickled. “I’m here, son. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.” He hauled Dax into his lap and leaned back against the wall, rocking him and stroking the boy’s back, repeating the words over and over. He tightened his embrace, aware that Dax was shaking like a leaf.
Travis had never been so afraid in his life, nor so relieved. Not even when his unit had been ambushed. The realization slammed into him with the force of a freight train, momentarily stealing his air. He loved this little guy. More than anything. Travis dropped his head back to the wall, blowing out a breath. Fucking hell. What was he supposed to do now?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Travis paced the kitchen like a caged lion, alternately checking on the burgers he was prepping for dinner and on Elaine, who sat at the table with her back to him. How many times in the past month had he wanted to quit their stupid charade and kiss her? She belonged with him. They just fit. He couldn’t explain it any other way. The house felt like a home with her here at the table and Dax running around in the yard. He no longer felt uncomfor
table with the way the front door stood open, so they could keep an eye on Dax. The election would be over in three weeks’ time. Then what? He couldn’t go back to the way things were. Wouldn’t.
“What do you think of this ad?” Elaine called from the table.
Travis stopped behind her and braced an arm on the table beside her. Heat licked up his spine as he caught a whiff of her shampoo. He shut his eyes against the zing of awareness that had his cock doing a happy dance.
He slid a glance her way. She sat perfectly still, jaw tight. He itched to trace a finger down the line of her jaw, melt her cool facade. See her drop her head and expose the creamy curve of her neck. His cock jerked against his jeans as he stared hungrily at the pout of her mouth. How many restless nights had he endured over the last month? How many of his dreams had she haunted? He’d lost count. What he longed for, hell, needed, was to feel what they’d felt that first night in the kitchen at the beginning of the summer. A world of possibility had opened up for him in that moment, and he’d been too much of a chickenshit to seize it. This distance was his fault.
She glanced over, her eyes widening, mouth parting. Could she hear his heart pounding? “Elaine,” he rasped, dipping his head.
Weston burst in the door. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked with a smirk.
Asshole.
Travis stepped back with a growl. “Yes,” he snarled, done with the bullshit.
“No,” Elaine answered at the same time.
“You two will have to work out whatever’s going on between you another time. Right now we have to talk about the First Responder’s Ball in two weeks.”
“Not going,” he gritted out, crossing his arms. He hated those damned events. He’d happily give them his money, but he wasn’t going to stuff himself into a suit and stand around making small talk with a bunch of young responders who only wanted to get drunk and dirty dance with their girlfriends.
“Not going to what?” Dottie poked her head in the door behind Weston.
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. Were they all conspiring against him today? “First Responder’s Ball.”
Dottie stepped around Weston, holding an envelope and skewering him with a pointed look. “Considering the funds raised this year are going to defray my future son-in-law’s medical bills, I hope that’s not the case.”
Shit. Parker had recently been injured in a burnover out in Colorado and had barely escaped with his life. “I’ll write a check. Double it. But I’m not going to that thing. You know how I hate them.”
Weston crossed his arms. “I know you’ve refused in years past, but this time, Mr. Candidate, you’re going. Half the town is going this year. First responders are your people. You need to go shake hands. I guarandamntee you that Lawson will be there, so you’re going, too.” He narrowed his gaze, eyes snapping. “Unless this candidacy is pure BS. In which case, quit wasting Elaine’s and my time.” Weston’s tone brooked no argument.
Elaine stood. “Maybe I should check on Dax?”
Dottie shook her head. “He’s riding his bike in the yard. And I need to talk to you.” She waved the envelope and held it out. “This came in the mail.”
Travis didn’t miss the way Elaine’s shoulders tightened. She pushed her chair back. “Do you think?”
Dottie nodded expectantly. “Open it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
“Don’t be, sweetie pie. You were ready for that test.” Dottie pressed the envelope into Elaine’s hands.
Even from across the room, Travis could see how her hands shook, pulling apart the paper. But her smile had him crossing the room before she squeaked, “I passed.”
With a shout, he pulled her into a hug and spun her around, kissing her forehead. “I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you.”
She laughed, eyes shiny with unshed tears, and hugged him back. He knew the exact moment when she caught herself because she stiffened in his arms. Biting back a groan of frustration, he let her slide down his body, not releasing her until her feet touched the floor.
“We all knew you could do it, sweetie pie,” Dottie stepped over and wrapped her in another hug.
Weston caught his eye and arched a brow. God, he wanted to fucking punch something. Why shouldn’t it be the most natural thing in the world for him to swing her around? He loved her. The realization pulled him up short. Weston was right, maybe he’d loved her from the start. There was no denying she’d crawled under his skin day one and taken up residence. But the transformation had been so subtle. Like he’d been walking north without a compass and ended up facing south. And everyone had seen it but him. It shouldn’t surprise him, he loved Dax. Would do anything for the boy. And how could you love one without the other?
The problem was, what to do about it? This changed everything. For starters, their self-imposed distance needed to end, pronto. They could figure out the rest later.
“I only popped in for a minute,” Dottie said as she moved to the door. “And Travis, I better see you at the First Responder’s Ball.” She gave him a no-nonsense glare that had him squirming down to his toes.
“Yes ma’am.” He never could say no to Dottie. She’d been like a second mother to him.
As soon as the screen door clicked shut behind her, Weston tossed a thick manila envelope down on the table. “Elaine, you’ll need to go with Travis. He’ll need someone to help him remember everything in this dossier. It’s a list of names and photos of all the police chiefs, assistant chiefs, fire marshals and fire chiefs in the county, as well as any pertinent cases from the last five years.”
Elaine’s eyes grew wide and she backed up, shaking her head. “Oh no. That’s a bad idea. I’m no good at that sort of thing. An-an-and I don’t have a dress.”
Weston crossed his arms, mouth drawing down. “You have time to get one. It’s a week away. Besides…” His mouth twitched. “That’s why Travis pays you the big bucks.”
“I need to check with Dottie, too. You’re not the only person I work for.”
“Don’t you think she’d have said something just now, if it was going to be a problem? Besides, it always looks better when the candidate has a date. Voters want to see Travis as settled and capable. And Lawson is the kind of guy who’d show up with… someone less classy than yourself. It’s an opportunity to point out the difference between the two without saying a word.”
She was grasping at straws. And he knew why she was doing it. Would she change her mind once they’d talked? He didn’t want to put on a penguin suit and parade around shaking hands any more than she did, but he could manage it with her by his side. Hell, it might even be fun.
Weston continued. “There will be other dignitaries there as well, and likely a few people from the unions and the governor’s office. They’ve rented out the ballroom at the Bison & Bull Inn. I’ve already reserved adjoining suites for the two of you. Elaine, you’ll have to find someplace for Dax to spend the night.”
“Oh no. I’m not spending the night away from him. What if he needs me?” The fear radiating off Elaine was palpable, but it wasn’t like Dax was a baby.
“He’ll be fine with Dottie and Teddy,” said Travis. “And we can head back early the next day.”
“Travis never sleeps past zero dark thirty,” added Weston.
“But if Dottie is going who would stay with Dax?”
Damn, the woman was stubborn when she made up her mind. He admired it, even as her refusal to join him irritated the heck out of him. “Dottie won’t be spending the night, she’s got to open up the food truck. My guess is he’d stay with Teddy. Teddy hates these things as much as I do.”
She shook her head firmly. “No. I’m sorry. You can go, but I’m going to stay here.”
“Dax will be fine, and if he’s not at first, he’ll learn to be fine.”
Elaine bristled, voice rising. “Don’t you tell me how to parent my child. I know him better than anyone.”
That got his hackl
es up. Didn’t she see what she was doing? “You suffocate him,” he countered, voice tight. “You hardly let him be a kid. He needs to fall down. He needs to be scared and know he’s going to come out of it okay.”
“What do you know about parenting?” she yelled. “You just come around like a jolly uncle. All fun and games. None of the worry, none of the anxiety.”
That stung. Especially after his experience with Dax in the storm. “I know I was raised by a single dad and it wasn’t easy, and I turned out fine,” he yelled back. Except Colton hadn’t turned out so fine. And when their dad had died not long after he’d passed his SEAL Tactical Training, Colton had been pretty much left to fend for himself. No wonder he’d made bad choices.
Elaine’s eyes sparked with anger and hurt. “You don’t know what he’s been through. He’s had enough fear to last a lifetime.”
“Then he damn well better learn how to handle it,” he roared. “All you’re teaching him is to be afraid of everything.”
“Stop it, stop it,” cried Dax from the door. “Stop yelling at my mommy.” He stood just inside the door, a look of worry and fear on his face, covering his ears.
Fuck. The fight drained out of him. He was an asshole. How many times had he pleaded with his parents to stop the yelling before his mother had finally abandoned them? How many times had he hidden on the stairs, half covering his ears, terrified of what he’d hear but unable to block it out completely? His stomach churned.
“I should go,” Elaine said quietly. She looked over to Weston. “Can you bring us home, please?”
No. Nononono. Shit. He had to make this right. He crossed the room and squatted down to get eye level with Dax. “I’m sorry you heard me yelling, buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes adults have disagreements. Even–” Even adults who love each other. Voicing that thought scared the shit out of him. “Even adults who are… good friends,” he finished lamely. God, he was making a clusterfuck out of this.
