by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
Dax lifted his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. After a moment he nodded. “I think that’s okay.”
“Now, I’ve never been a dad before, but if I was a dad, I’d want a kid like you.”
Dax puffed up, a smile spreading across his face.
Her heart had to still be beating – she was still standing. Her insides felt tossed around like an upside-down salt shaker. She bit down on her lip unsure of what to expect next.
Dax toed the fringe of the rug. “I’ve never had a dad.”
“Would you like one?” Elaine perked up at the husky note in Travis’s voice. She wasn’t the only one with her heart in her throat.
Dax shrugged and nodded. Of all the things she’d never been able to give her son, raising him without a father hurt her the most. But raising him with a revolving door of bad examples would have been far worse.
“Do you think we can try it for a bit?” Travis asked. “See how it’s like?”
Dax nodded slowly. “Does that mean you love me?”
Her hand flew to her mouth, too late to cover the astonished squeak that escaped.
Travis’s face was a study of emotion, but he nodded and pulled Dax in for a hug. “Yeah,” he said throatily. “It does. I love you kiddo.”
Hot tears pierced her eyelids as Dax snuggled into Travis’s embrace. She caught a muffled I love you too as Dax spoke into Travis’s midsection. When their gazes locked, Travis’s eyes were shiny and soft. Thank you, she mouthed silently. He shrugged, an expression of wonder on his face. “I mean it,” he said gruffly. “All of it.”
Once Dax had run off to play downstairs, Travis pulled her into an embrace. “You think he’ll like it here?” he asked gruffly.
“I think he’ll do just fine.” She swiveled her head eyeing the door. “But you can’t lock this door.”
His body tensed. “Why not?”
“I can’t sleep in a room with a locked door.”
“The door locks for your safety.”
“But we’re safe here, Travis. I can understand and agree to locking the front door at night. This is a big house. But not the bedroom.” Heat prickled over her scalp. “Besides, if Dax is across the hall, I want him to know he can come in if he needs me.”
“And I don’t want him to barge in on us accidentally,” Travis growled back.
Elaine pushed against him, stepping back. “I don’t see why you’re so obsessed with keeping everyone in.”
“It’s keeping people out that I’m worried about, and you know why,” he ground out. “And I’m slowly getting better, you know that.” He crossed his arms. “But what I don’t know and you’ve refused to say is why you’re obsessed with keeping things unlocked.” He stared pointedly at her, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “Start talkin’ darlin’.”
Fear raced down her spine, chilling her all the way to her fingertips. She’d never confessed this to anyone. Not that she’d ever been close enough to anyone to confide something this personal, this… mortifying. She snuck a peek at him through her lowered lashes. Immovable.
“When I was small, younger than Dax, I-I…” Heat exploded on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut tamping down the ugly memory, the terror. “I was locked in a closet as a form of discipline.” Even now, she could feel the darkness pressing in on her. The stuffy, hot air choking her.
Travis made an awful noise and her eyes jerked up. Every muscle in his body clenched, poised to pounce or mete out justice. Fear snaked through her. How would he react when she disclosed the rest? “There’s more,” she murmured thickly, struggling to push out the words through a constricted throat. Keeping her eyes pinned to a square on the rug, she forced out the rest. “A few years ago… before we moved here, there was an incident.” She swallowed down the bile that rose up her throat. Lawson had made it clear what would happen to her or to Travis if she ever spoke of the incident. “I… a person locked me in a room and tried to hurt me,” she blurted, fighting the wave of nausea that swarmed her belly. “I-I got away before anything significant happened, but I promised myself I’d always have an escape route after that.” Her heart pounded ferociously.
“Who?” Travis’s voice was lethal. Hard.
“I-it doesn’t matter.”
“Like hell it doesn’t,” he bit out. “I’ll deal with him.”
She’d never seen him like this. Unyielding. Deadly. This was Travis the warrior. For a terrifying moment, she imagined seeing his face on the other end of a rifle. Or worse. A shiver skittered across her shoulders.
“Did you ever report it?”
She shook her head once. “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“Why not?”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Who would I have told? He had all the power. And no one saw us. He made sure no one saw him. It would have been my word against his, and who would believe a–” she caught herself. Who would believe a girl with a record accusing a cop who’d positioned himself as unassailable? No one. “Someone like me?” she finished sadly.
Travis scrubbed a hand across his jaw and shook his head. When he looked at her, his eyes were bright with anger. She cringed, bracing herself for his unleashed fury. She couldn’t help it, and hated herself when she saw the hurt look in his eyes. “I will never hurt you.” His voice came out full of gravel. “Never. And I will deal handily with anyone who does.” He swooped down and gave her a hard kiss. “The lock will come off tomorrow.” He stalked out of the room before she thought to stop him.
She wanted so badly to lay everything out. To explain herself. But she couldn’t do that to him right before the election. Not only would it add to his stress and pull his focus from the campaign, but the backlash over her record would ruin his chances. Cause such a big blow up. Not to mention cost Dottie precious business. People in this town weren’t ready for a known criminal in their midst. She couldn’t do that to either of them. Once her hearing was over and she’d been released, and it was all in the past, then maybe she and Dottie could talk to Travis together. Explain everything. Just nine days.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Travis, you’re not thinking like a winner,” Weston banged his hand on the table.
“Like hell I’m not,” Travis countered, voice rising.
Tension had been building all week and had finally spilled over at dinner.
“Guys, Dax is asleep upstairs,” Elaine scolded.
She was on pins and needles too, expecting the worst every day when she rushed to the mailbox. So far Lawson hadn’t gone on the offensive, but their conversation kept ringing in her ears. They just had to get through the next four days in one piece, but everyone was exhausted and on edge.
“You need to sew this up, Travis, and to do it you’ve got to go negative.”
Travis crossed his arms, triceps bulging under his shirt. “I won’t. I have a reputation to uphold in the community. I won’t resort to mudslinging.”
“All it would be doing is raising questions about your opponent. Legitimate questions.” Weston paced the length of the table. “Look. I can call my dad’s designer and have something put together by midnight. There’s a printer in Wichita we can pay for an expedited run. They’ll be finished by mid-afternoon tomorrow and I will personally deliver them to the post office. We’ll have to pay first class postage, but they’ll arrive in some boxes Saturday and the rest, Monday.”
“You’ve thought this through completely, haven’t you?” You could cut the tension in Travis’s voice with a knife.
Weston rolled his eyes. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”
“It would cost $14,097.44,” she said more to herself than to anyone else.
The men swung to stare at her.
“How do you know?” Travis asked.
Weston smacked his shoulder. “I told you she was lightning fast with numbers. Break it down?”
Elaine sighed, cheeks flaming under their stares. “10,623 voters, times point seven-nine for a six by eight mailer. $8,392.17 in printin
g costs. Multiply the voters by a first-class stamp and that’s an additional $5,205.27. Add five hundred for expedited printing.” She shrugged. Not that hard.
Travis grinned at her. “I knew there was a reason why I loved you.” He turned to Weston, frowning. “I’m not spending fifteen thousand more of my nest-egg just to hit Lawson in the balls.”
Weston’s jaw flexed. “How bad do you want to win?”
“I guess not fifteen-thousand more bad. I could use that to get the tractor running again. Or buy a half-dozen calf-cow pairs.”
“Thinking like a rancher already?”
“Just trying to keep my perspective.”
“Try this perspective. You lose, Lawson becomes your boss. And mine,” Weston added. “The guy’s bad news, Travis. Is it worth fifteen grand to make sure an asshole doesn’t ruin the county?”
Travis’s face pulled tight. “You can’t put that all on me, and you know it.”
Weston paced away again. “At least there’s nothing negative Lawson can use on you. Maybe we’ll squeak this out, but mark my words. If he wins, it will be harder to unseat him as an incumbent.”
Elaine’s stomach somersaulted at Weston’s words, and she nearly missed what Travis said.
“Elaine? What do you think?”
Both sets of eyes trained on her. She froze. What was she supposed to say? Lawson’s threat rang in her ears. Lawson would lash out if he felt backed into a corner. She looked back and forth between the two men. Weston’s eyes flaming with intensity and the desire to win. Travis’s guarded. Exhausted. What would Lawson do if he lost? Would he still find a way to ruin everything she’d rebuilt? It was too risky. “I-I think we should give him a wide berth.”
Triumph flashed in Travis’s eyes. Weston looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry Weston.”
Weston threw up his hand. “What the candidate wants…” He grabbed his jacket draped over the end chair. “As long as you have no regrets, man. I don’t want you coming back in a year or two when Lawson is running the county like a mob boss and telling me you wished you’d spent the money.”
Travis’s mouth flattened. “Not a chance.”
“My work here is done, then. You know what you need to do over the weekend. I’ll show myself out.” Weston let himself out, quietly shutting the door with a click.
Travis’s shoulders sagged, and after locking the door, he flopped on the couch cradling his head in his hands. The poor man was exhausted. Heck, they all were, but the stress of it was finally evident on his face and in his body.
Going to him, she curled herself up next to him on the couch, laying her head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his back. “Hey. You okay?”
Tension radiated off him in waves. She drew her hand up, working the knots at the base of his neck. After a long moment, a shudder wracked his body and he let out a heavy sigh. “Weston warned me this would be stressful.”
“Do you regret running?”
He flicked a glance at her, eyes tired but glowing. “Not for a second. I just want it to be over. And I want to know the outcome so I can move on.”
Her heart sank a little. So he could move on? What about her? Or them? Or Dax? Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue because he was stressed. But what if it wasn’t? And what would he say when she finally told him about her record? Would he still want her then? Even if she was about to be released from probation? She didn’t know what to say, so she kept working the knots on his backside. “Yeah, me too,” she finally answered quietly.
* * *
“More coffee?” Elaine smiled down at Anders, one of her morning regulars as she started to refill his cup. “I can run and get your cream.” Anders always put three creams in his coffees.
He scowled at her yanking his cup away. “I didn’t ask for more, and I’ll get my own cream.”
“I’m so sorry,” she responded automatically, reeling.
Anders wasn’t naturally crusty like some of the other old-timers. He usually greeted her with a warm smile and a question about Dax. Maybe he was worried about the reconstruction efforts for the Feed ’n Seed? Builders had broken ground on the new building last week. A shiver snaked down her spine. But what if it wasn’t? Her stomach filled with dread.
She shook herself. According to Weston, anything bad would have hit by now. She only had to get through two more days. She was just anxious about the election. About talking to Travis after. That was all it was. Nothing more than a few jitters. She replaced the coffee pot and grabbed a washcloth from the bleach bucket.
Dottie stepped out of the food truck. “You okay, sweetie pie? You look like you’re carryin’ the world on your shoulders.”
Elaine put on a smile. “Yeah. Just worried about the election tomorrow.” She lowered her voice. “And Wednesday.”
Dottie wrapped her in a hug. Dottie might be squishy on the outside, but she was steel on the inside. Elaine sagged against the older woman, absorbing her resolve. “I’m going to be fine,” she said thickly. “This will pass.”
“Damn straight you’re gonna be fine. Your man’s gonna win tomorrow, and then we can talk to him about Wednesday. I’ll stay with you every step.”
She squeezed her eyes against the hot swell of emotion that stuck in her throat. “I love you, Dottie. I couldn’t have done this without you.” She sniffed, blinking hard.
Dottie gave her a squeeze. “I love you too, sweetie pie.” Her voice grew husky. “I’m so proud of you. Now get back out there and finish up so you’re ready when Travis comes to pick you up. You have an election to help win.”
Brushing her eyes, she stepped back and took a big breath. This time, her smile felt genuine. Dipping the washcloth in the bleach water, she wrung it out and headed for the tables. As she rounded the corner of the truck, she recognized Travis’s brawny figure moving through the tables. “Hey there,” she called out, thrilled to see him in the middle of the day. Her smile froze in place when he turned, a thunderous expression pulling on his features.
He stalked to her, holding out a large, glossy piece of paper. A mailer, from the looks of it. His eyes glittered hard and cold. “What in the hell is this?”
She took the piece, hands shaking. Facing up at her was a photo she’d never seen before, but one she would remember for the rest of her life. She hardly recognized the scared eyed, pink-haired girl from more than two years ago staring up at her. But there was no doubt it was her. The red GUILTY stamp through her name just made it worse. Her world tilted sideways, sending her stomach with it as she went hot and cold all at once. But what made her want to have the earth swallow her up were the big words “Campaign Treasurer – CRIMINAL”.
Over her picture, big dark words grabbed the reader’s attention.
If TRAVIS KINCAID hires criminals for his campaign, WHO will he hire as County Sheriff?
The blood rushed from her face. She’d ruined everything for Travis.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The wide scared eyes staring up at him matched the eyes of the girl in the picture. He didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Say something. But she didn’t. She just stared at him, a pained expression on her face, eyes deep dark pools of sorrow.
“What is this?” he gritted out. “Is this you?” Dammit, he wanted to hear her admit it. Own up to the extent of her betrayal.
He’d been shocked when Jeanine had placed the mailer on his desk not twenty minutes earlier. There was no way the woman in the picture could be his sweet, strong Elaine. And yet he’d recognized her instantly.
“I-It’s not what you think,” she finally uttered, barely above a whisper.
“Then you damn well better start explaining.”
She barely tilted her head, scanning the area. “Can we go someplace private?”
“Your mug shot is in the mailbox of every resident in the county and you want to go someplace private?” he barked. “Everyone’s gonna know your story before dinner hits the table tonight darlin’.”
She
winced, pink flushing her cheeks.
Maybe that was too harsh, but at the moment he was too angry to care. She’d singlehandedly destroyed months of effort. Not to mention the thousands of dollars down the drain. His stomach churned at that. It would take him years to recoup his losses. He crossed his arms and glowered at her. “Well?”
Her eyes darted up, spearing him with a look of such pain that his gut twisted. But she would not play him again, and he tamped down the urge to soften. She’d slid under his defenses and it had made him weak. Compromised his judgment. God, it was Kandahar all over again. When would he fucking learn?
She looked down at the space between them and spoke so low he had to lean in to hear her. “Three years ago, Dax and I lived in Topeka.” Her voice came out in a monotone, devoid of emotion. “As you know, I was a high-school dropout. There weren’t a lot of employment options available to me, especially with a four-year-old. I ended up with a cocktailing job at a gentleman’s club called Naughty Nellie’s.”
Gentleman’s club, his ass. “You worked at a strip club,” he said flatly. A hot flash of jealous rage drove through him. The thought that creeps and criminals had seen her tits or worse, and had undoubtedly attempted to put their hands all over her had his vision spotting. The law enforcement community was very aware of Naughty Nellie’s. It had a well-earned reputation for being the favorite booty call joint for some of the slipperiest criminals in Kansas. Even drawing some of the rougher elements from Kansas City.
“I swear I never took off my clothes,” she rushed, a note of panic sounding in her voice.
“Let me guess,” he said sarcastically. “You just made introductions for the ladies who did?”
Her eyes flashed. “I had a child to feed. The DJ lived in my building and hooked me up with a job.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
She gasped, cheeks going from pink to red.
That was a low blow. One he might regret later when he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
