A Lone Star Christmas (Texas Justice Book 3)

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A Lone Star Christmas (Texas Justice Book 3) Page 15

by Justine Davis


  At that moment the boy looked at them. “You know what I really like about this place? There’s no Mr. Strickland.”

  “Mr. Strickland?” Sean asked, sounding almost grateful for the distraction. As was she.

  “Our neighbor next door,” Elena explained. “He’s a bit cranky and very protective of his garden.”

  “Oh. Yeah, you have to go a ways to get to the neighbors here. But it’s the McBrides, so they’re not cranky.”

  “The medical McBrides?” Elena asked; she knew both Doctor Turner McBride and Doctor Graham McBride from assorted town functions, and the paramedic they’d seen at the toy drive, Spencer, often stopped in at the restaurant for food to take back to the station. She’d been vaguely aware they lived on a place out here, but hadn’t realized it was next to the Highwater ranch.

  “I think their sister would protest that,” Sean said. He looked at Marcos. “Jessie rescues mustangs.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “You mean wild horses?”

  “Yes. She’s got a half dozen or so over there now. Sage helps her out with them now and then.”

  “Could we go see ’em sometime?” Marcos asked excitedly.

  Sean looked at her. Marcos sighed and grimaced. As if he expected her to of course say no. “If she would be willing,” she said. Marcos’s expression changed instantly into an excited grin.

  “Maybe after the holidays. I’ll check with her, see when would be good,” Sean said.

  Marcos was delighted. And when they dismounted to let the horses drink before starting back, the boy announced, “I want to be a detective when I grow up,” and then promptly went to explore the creek for possible fish.

  Elena felt a qualm at the idea of her son in a dangerous profession. Which reminded her the man she was rapidly falling for already was. As Enrique had been, and had ended up paying the ultimate price for his desire to serve.

  Not wanting to think about it, she tried to reroute her thoughts. “Did you join the department because of your father and your brother?” she asked.

  “This department, yes. I’ve been…approached by other, bigger cities. But I’d never transfer. Shane cuts me slack because he knows I think different.”

  “I believe your…what do they call it? Your clearance rate? I think that may have more to do with it.”

  He smiled at that. “Maybe. But really, I’ve known what I wanted since I was fourteen and my dad laid out a case for me. He told me all the evidence, the victims, the suspects, and asked me what I thought. It was like this big, complex puzzle, with the unpredictable human factor messing up the logic.”

  “That must have been a thrill for you, your father asking for your help.”

  “It was, at that moment. He told me later what he’d been trying to do was get me to understand people better. He didn’t expect me to solve the case.”

  “But you did?”

  “Well, it was already solved, actually. It was an old case. But I figured it out without knowing that.”

  “And the die was cast,” she said with a smile.

  “Yeah.” His grin was almost boyish, and she felt as if she’d had a glimpse of that fourteen-year-old.

  “It sounds like you had a wonderful relationship.”

  “We did. He was a great guy.” His gaze shifted to look out into the distance. “Except he fell in love with the wrong woman.”

  “And yet look at the family that produced. That evens it out, in a way, doesn’t it?”

  He looked back at her then, and his voice was soft when he said, “Yes. Yes, it does.”

  It was later, when they had gone back to the house and Sean had the lasagna and garlic bread in the oven, that Marcos looked at her and said, with that bluntness she sometimes despaired of, “You’ve been a lot more fun since we started hanging out with Sean.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sean freeze in the act of getting plates from a cupboard. And she had the sudden feeling her answer to this could be important.

  “I have been having a lot more fun,” she said. “As have you. I believe I had forgotten how to, but he has reminded me.”

  “Cool,” Marcos said blithely. Sean moved again.

  “Put these on the table over there, will you, buddy?” Sean held the plates out to the boy.

  “Sure,” he said cheerfully, took them and trotted off to the dining area.

  Sean looked at her then. “That was quite a compliment.”

  “It was nothing less than the truth,” she said.

  For a moment he just looked at her, then, softly, he said, “Me, too.”

  What she had said out in the hills seemed to hover between them for a moment. But Marcos was still here, and this was not a conversation she wanted to have with him so near.

  “May I ask you something?” she said instead.

  “Anything.” The way he said it proved he, too, had felt her words hanging in air suddenly fraught.

  “Did you feel…guilty, the first time you laughed, or enjoyed something, after your father was killed?”

  He looked startled, then thoughtful. “Yes. Like I had no right to laugh, to feel good or cheerful. Like it was betraying him somehow, to laugh about anything, when he was gone.”

  She nodded slowly as she let out a long breath. “I think that is why I resisted even the idea of enjoyment for so long. It felt…disrespectful somehow.”

  He moved then, coming over to her and taking her hands in his. “I only met him a couple of times, but I know he was crazy about you. And the kind of man he was would never want you to die with him. And,” he added with a glance toward Marcos, “he’d be proud of you both.”

  There was nothing of the attraction between them in this. This was simply a good, honest man trying to comfort, and doing it by praising the absent man who was, in a way, a barrier between them.

  “I have said it before, but it bears repeating. You are a kind and wise soul, Sean Highwater.”

  Silence spun out between them before Sean asked, sounding as if he were trying not to, “I know you do and will always love him. But are you still…in love with him?”

  She drew in a deep breath as it sparked back to life, this thing between them. “No. That kind of love requires give and take from both sides. And he is not here to do that. He can only remind me of how sweet it can be.”

  “I’ve…never known how sweet it can be.”

  She held his gaze, that blue Highwater gaze, and tried to put what she was feeling into her voice. “Then perhaps, as you have taught me how to have fun again, I can…teach you.”

  And then Marcos was back, once more cutting short a conversation they needed to have. His easy chattering with Sean was too precious for her to truly mind. And it seemed a short time later they were at the table, she serving up slabs of the wonderful-smelling pasta dish while Sean dealt out slices of the equally luscious-smelling bread.

  “Are you comin’ for Mom’s birthday?” Marcos asked after a few minutes, as he dug in for another bite of the lasagna that was clearly a hit with him.

  “Marcos,” Elena began, then stopped. Curiously, she asked, “Which do you mean?”

  Marcos looked at Sean consideringly. Sean merely looked puzzled. “At the house,” Marcos pronounced firmly. “On the real day.”

  The way he said it make Elena smile inwardly. That he wanted Sean there, on the more personal, intimate day, warmed her.

  “The ‘real’ day?” Sean asked.

  “Our extended family will acknowledge my birthday at the feast day gathering at the restaurant on Thursday.”

  “The Virgin of Guadalupe?”

  She smiled; somehow she’d known he would know. “Yes.”

  “But that’s not your actual birthday?”

  “No. It is just easier, since everyone is already together.”

  “Too many of them,” Marcos said. “I don’t think you’d like it so much. So come Saturday. Then it’s just Mom and Gran and me.”

  Sean hesitated, looking at her. Then he said qu
ietly, “Please don’t feel you have to—”

  “What I would feel,” she said, “is honored, if you would join us.”

  “I’d like that,” he said softly. “If your mother wouldn’t mind.”

  “Mind? She quite likes you, Mr. Highwater.”

  “And I’m not nearly as afraid of her as I used to be.”

  “That’s because you did not have her as a teacher,” she teased.

  He grinned at her. “My brothers would agree with that.”

  A new voice came from the doorway. “What am I agreeing to? Besides a big helping of lasagna, that is?”

  Elena looked up to see the middle brother, Slater coming through the doorway. If he was surprised to see her here it didn’t show. Marcos, unfamiliar with this Highwater, fell silent, and his easy smile faded. It tugged at her, this evidence that he still had that shell to retreat into when confronted with strangers.

  “The fearsome reputation of Mrs. Valencia,” Sean said.

  Slater grinned. “I liked her. She knows her stuff.” He looked at Elena. “Mrs. de la Cova.” He said it with a polite nod, and she couldn’t help noticing it was different than the respectful, rather awed dip of the head Sean had given her. Which in turn made her realize just how far they’d come from that, in a short time.

  “Elena, please,” she said. Slater smiled. It was odd, she thought. All the Highwater men were quite attractive, and Slater’s eyes were the most amazing shade of turquoise blue, but she found she preferred Sean’s light blue. She just preferred Sean, period.

  “Hey, Bro,” Slater said, “Joey wanted to know if you’ll still be able to get in this Sunday while they’re closed, to finish the network setup on the new computer lab.”

  “I’m planning on it,” Sean said. “Where is she, anyway?”

  “Out with Bella McBride, plotting mayhem I’m sure.”

  Sean grinned. “Good for them.”

  “Is that library Joey?” Marcos asked, casting Slater a very wary look, and asking the question of Sean.

  “Yep,” Sean said. Then he leaned over and said in a loud whisper, “For some reason she’s crazy about my brother.”

  “Oh.” When Marcos looked at Slater again, it was with a little less trepidation. “I like her.”

  “So do I,” Slater said with a wink at the boy.

  “You’re going to set up a new computer lab at the library?” Marcos asked Sean.

  He nodded. Then gave Elena a questioning look, and a half nod toward her son. She smiled, and nodded back.

  “Maybe you’d like to come and help,” Sean said to the boy.

  Marcos stared at Sean, almost awed. “Yes!” he yelped. Then he looked at her. “Can I, Mom?”

  “Since it is for the library, and will help Joey, yes, you may.”

  “Cool!” He looked back at Sean and said proudly, “I’m good with computers.”

  “I figured you were. Although it’s kind of tricky, doing stuff other people will use.”

  Marcos frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you can’t assume everybody knows as much as you do. And you have to think about not just what you’d do, but what other people do, what they need. You may want to play a game, but someone else might need to do research, and it has to access the library catalog, too.”

  “Oh.” Marcos looked thoughtful. She loved the way Sean did that, made the boy think outside himself. She supposed it was something he’d had to learn, too. And she found herself picturing a young Sean, wearing the same thoughtful expression that Marcos wore now.

  A similar expression, Elena noted, to Sean’s brother, who had watched this exchange with great interest.

  The ring of a cell phone made Sean frown. It was his, so he pulled it out of his pocket, and started to swipe it into silence as he had done twice already today. Something she appreciated, as it signaled he valued their presence more. But this time he stopped before touching the screen. And then, with an apologetic look and a quick, “Sorry,” he answered.

  His side of the conversation consisted mostly of “Copy,” and “Go on.” But when he hung up it was with profuse thanks. Then he looked at Slater.

  “That was the Inyo County Sheriff’s Office, in California.”

  “Case you’re working?” Slater asked with a raised brow.

  “Case I’ve been working my entire career.”

  Slater went very still. Stared at his younger brother.

  Sean swallowed. Then said, the undertone in his voice something she’d never heard from him before, “They found Kane’s truck.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Not him, but the truck you and Joey found out about,” Sean said, wanting that up front immediately.

  “You call your boss, I’ll call Sage,” Slater said.

  Sean nodded. He glanced at Elena, but she merely shook her head as she stood up. “We will leave you to do what you must. This is more important than anything else.”

  “Mom—”

  “Hush, Marcos. Sean must deal with this immediately.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “Police stuff? Okay.”

  “Let me walk you out,” Sean began, but again she shook her head.

  “We are safe enough here, and your urge to do the gentlemanly thing is noted. I know how important this is. Please, let me know?”

  He nodded, still feeling a little shaken. She reached up then to touch his face. For a moment he thought she might give him one of those sweet kisses on the cheek, which was so far from what he wanted it only added to his frustration. And then, to his shock, in front of Marcos and Slater, she stretched up and pressed her mouth to his. Hunger exploded in him, and for a moment this was all he could think about, the feel of her, the taste of her, and the simple fact that she had initiated this. He nearly groaned aloud as he felt the swipe of her tongue across his lips, and grabbed her arms to pull her closer. Only the gradually returning awareness of where they were and what had just happened enabled him to finally pull back. For a moment he just stared into those dark eyes, which were now warm with gentleness.

  “I will be praying this will bring good news,” she said softly.

  And then they were gone, this pair that had somehow become the hub of his life.

  “Well, well.”

  Sean was afraid to even look at his brother. “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “That,” Slater said, “has been a very long time coming.”

  Startled, his head came up. “What?”

  “A little credit?” Slater said. “Do you really think nobody noticed the way you’ve always watched her? From a safe distance, of course.”

  He didn’t even try to deny it. “She scared the hell out of me.”

  Slater grinned, something he’d been doing for months now, ever since he and Joey Douglas had gotten together. “Not so much anymore, I gather.”

  Sean was pretty sure his expression had turned silly. And when Slater smiled back at him, it was with total understanding. “James Earl Jones said something like one of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t say. You’ve carried this around for a long time, little brother.”

  Sean’s grin wobbled a little. “I guess I still am scared, because I haven’t said it, yet. Got a quote for that?”

  Slater thought for a moment, then spoke. “Attribution unknown, but how about ‘It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return. But it’s more painful to love someone and never find the courage to let that person know how you feel.’ I came close to that, Sean. Don’t do it.”

  “I won’t.” And in that moment he meant it completely. He just wished he had faith that his nerve would hold the next time he was face to face with her.

  But she kissed me. In front of my brother and her son. That’s like a…declaration, practically. Isn’t it?

  “Let’s get moving, then.” Slater’s words yanked him back before he spiraled down that particular rabbit hole.

  After they’d made their calls, Sage was back at the hou
se in ten minutes, Shane in just over twelve. Sage slipped off her spurs and Shane tossed his gray Resistol hat on the rack, but that was the only acknowledgment to being inside. They gravitated automatically to the kitchen table, where all the family meetings of import had been held since the days of Jess Highwater, back in the fledgling days of Last Stand and when this now sprawling home had been merely two rooms and an outhouse.

  “Go,” Shane said abruptly, just as he did at the station when an officer had a report to give. And that’s how Sean relayed the information, keeping his voice flat and unemotional.

  “First off, there was no contact with Kane and it’s not recent.” That was the most crucial part, so he got it out first. “But a deputy from the Inyo County Sheriff’s Office in California ran a cross-reference of our request for info against tow records.”

  Several other agencies had done the same, whenever they had time, but nothing had ever turned up. But after Slater and Joey had turned up a clue last June, they had expanded the search and Sean had re-sent the request. Since it was a cold case, most places got to it when they could, although perhaps a little sooner than they would have, given that it was the brother of a police chief they were looking for. Shane would never condone using his position for consideration not granted the average citizen, but if other agencies took his name on the header of the request—and perhaps his Internet fame—into account, he couldn’t control that.

  “She found a match to the plate, and the VIN. Description matches, down to the camper shell. Towed from a county road about three miles from US 395, north of Bishop. The vehicle itself wasn’t running. No personal property left inside. Sold for storage fees after forty-five days.”

  “When?” Shane asked, his voice tight, his dark blue eyes fastened on, in this case, his detective.

  Sean sucked in a breath. “Four years ago.”

  Shane leaned back in his chair. Sage muffled a sound and Slater let out a low whistle. “That’s a six-year leap, Bro.”

  Sean nodded. Slater and Joey had determined Kane had been in Arizona, working at the Grand Canyon, until two years after their father had died. A decade ago. To now have data on where he’d been just four years ago was just that, a huge leap.

 

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