Well, he’d thought it adult knowledge, but last night had blasted everything he ever thought he’d known about that right out of his head. And he’d been terrified this morning that she would have regrets, that she would wish it hadn’t happened.
Then she spoke again, softly, with a husky undertone that sent a fiery shiver racing down his spine. “And thank you again for my most beautiful, wonderful birthday gift.”
“I…you’re welcome. I tried it, and it writes nice,” he said, sounding utterly lame even to himself.
“I was not,” Elena said, giving him a look that about put him on his knees, “referring to the pen.”
And then she was gone, leaving him trying to explain to a curious Marcos why he was breathing funny.
“I’m lucky,” he muttered, “to be breathing at all.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sean rubbed at his face and eyes as he shambled down the hall toward the blessed smell of fresh coffee. It had been a sleepless—and aching—night for him, restless, tossing, wishing. And as much as he liked Marcos, he was beginning to see the downside of dating a woman with a kid.
Dating. Elena de la Cova. Him.
Just the thought put what he was sure was a ridiculous smile on his face.
The smile wobbled a bit when he got to the kitchen and saw the group gathered there. For a moment he wondered if he was off by a day; this was a Sunday dinner crowd. Sage, both his brothers, Lily and…Joey. Joey, who had disappeared with Elena yesterday on that mysterious shopping trip.
“So spill, Bro,” Sage said the moment she saw him.
“Coffee,” he muttered, reaching for a mug. Which his sister promptly snatched out of his hand. He groaned.
“Might as well give it up, Sean,” Lily said, grinning. “There’s nothing more unstoppable than a determined Highwater.”
“Or a nosy reporter?” he suggested with a grimace.
Lily threw up her hands in mock horror. “Don’t tag me with that.”
Shane only grinned. As he did so often these days. There was so much sunshine and happiness in this house lately it had begun to make him loathe to be around it.
Until now. When he finally, completely understood the feeling.
“Give, Bro,” Slater said. “I’ve never seen a smile like that on your face before.”
He glanced at Joey, who smiled at him over the rim of her own coffee. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t said a word.”
He believed her. He knew Joey well enough to know that if she said she hadn’t said anything, she hadn’t. Not even to Slater, or he’d be coming at him with more ammo. As it was, all he’d said—with a wink—was that he knew how Sean had always seen her, but that the queen and the cop was no crazier than the saloonkeeper and the librarian.
His gaze shot to his oldest brother. But Shane had his best poker face on, although there was a certain glint in his eye. It wasn’t the warning kind he sometimes got, when one of the family strayed too far for his liking, but rather a pleased sort of twinkle.
He’d never been so thankful to hear his cell phone, stuffed haphazardly into his jeans pocket, ring. But when he pulled it out and saw the caller ID, he went still.
“Inyo County Sheriff,” he said, and the room went still. They all knew.
He answered, and it was the same deputy who had called before. By the time she was done, he was thanking her profusely. She wished them good luck, and the call ended. And Sean stood there staring at the phone’s screen for a moment before he looked up. He was aware of them all, but it was Shane he looked at. Shane, who was suddenly more police chief than brother.
“It may not matter,” he began, but Shane shook his head. So he sucked in a breath and said it. “Deputy Meadows took a moment to go a little deeper. She looked at the inventory of the truck’s contents. And they found a map under the seat.”
“A paper map?” Slater frowned.
Sean nodded. His mind wanted to run, to leap down the rabbit hole from the paper map to Kane not having a phone or not one with data access, to maybe being so broke he couldn’t afford it, or maybe even to eat, and that could mean he’d end up in trouble, serious trouble, if he wasn’t already—
“Rein it in, Sean,” Shane said gently. “There’s more?”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Yes. She said the map was of the west coast. California, Oregon, Washington. And it was folded open, to show from where the truck was northward.”
“Any markings on it?” Lily asked.
“No. But there is one more thing.” They went silent. “There was a flyer, one of those tourist brochure things. For Seattle.”
Sage’s eyes widened. “The Space Needle. He always wanted to see that thing.”
Slater gave Shane a wry smile. “I guess it’s a good thing you made the command decision to wait on the California jaunt.”
It was later, after Shane and Lily had gone, Joey had headed to the library, and Sage sought refuge where she always did, with the horses, that Sean and Slater sat alone at the kitchen table where so many Highwater meetings had taken place.
“I’m really glad Joey figured out we were making it worse for Sage by not talking about him,” Sean said.
Slater nodded. “She’s amazingly perceptive.”
“And yet she’s still with you,” Sean teased, but Slater only grinned. From long practice he saw something shift in his brother’s gaze, and hastened to head off what he knew was coming: questions about his own status. “I better get going to work, or the boss’ll beat me there.”
“He’s going to drop Lily off at her place, so that’ll take a good hour or better,” Slater said dryly.
“But she only lives over on—” He cut himself off as he realized what Slater had meant, that there would be…time spent at Lily’s before Shane actually made it to work.
“And don’t think you’ve escaped,” his brother warned. “You’ve only delayed.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, glad Slater was going to let it drop. But knowing better than to think that would last for long.
In fact, he guessed it would blow up entirely when he and Elena walked into the Christmas Ball on Saturday.
*
“What’s wrong?”
Elena was looking at him across the table in the back room at Valencia’s. And an exchange he’d had with Joey this morning came back to him in force.
Elena…
Yeah?
Serious?
I…hope so.
Advice? He’d almost laughed then, because her side was starting to sound like the one-word-at-a-time exchanges between her and Slater that had become practically famous even before they’d been a couple. A sign they were meant to be, Sage said.
Please. He’d take all the help he could get, especially female.
I know it’s your instinct to keep to yourself, but share with her. Open up. She’s the kind who will treasure that, and never abuse your trust.
He couldn’t argue with her assessment of him. Growing up feeling different, odd, taught a person early to keep some things guarded, hidden away. He wondered if Slater had told her that, or if she’d seen it herself. Joey was very smart—otherwise she’d never be able to keep up with Slater—so she’d probably figured that out herself.
“If you think it is not my business, simply say so.”
Elena’s voice yanked him back sharply. Instinctively he reached out across the table and put a hand over hers.
“No, I just was…remembering something.” Still he hesitated. This was something he would normally keep to himself, because it was family stuff. But Elena understood worry and loss, better than most. And she’d helped them so much already, by realizing the mistake they had made, interpreting their father’s last words. “We got another piece on Kane.”
“More than the information you received last week?”
He nodded. “One of the deputies out in California went the extra mile for us, and found another possible clue. He may have been headed north, toward Seattle.�
�
She looked thoughtful. “That would be a very different place from here. It makes sense, for someone wanting…change. Or wanting to forget.”
Sean drew back slightly. “I didn’t think of it like that, but you’re right. Maybe Arizona wasn’t different enough.”
He sat for a long, silent moment, pondering. He heard Marcos’s laughter from the kitchen area, where he was apparently talking with one of his innumerable cousins of various degrees. It made him smile, and when he looked back at Elena she wore an expression he couldn’t even begin to interpret. But when she spoke, it was still of his brother.
“It must be horrible, the not knowing. And the missing him.”
“And the elephant in the room,” he muttered.
“Which is?”
He felt a jab of regret that he’d let that slip. But he had, and this was Elena, and if he couldn’t trust her with this then he had no business even sitting here wishing for even more from her. Much more.
“The one thing I know we’re all thinking, wondering, but never, ever talk about. That Kane doesn’t look like…any of us.”
Elena sat back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “He did not inherit the Highwater blue eyes.”
Sean nodded. “Hazel. Sometimes they looked green, sometimes brown. But definitely never blue. And his hair was lighter than ours.” He realized his jaw had clenched, consciously relaxed it.
“So you suspect he may not be your full brother?”
She put it so gently, so simply that he let out a relieved breath as some of the pressure that had been building eased. “None of us have said it, but I know we’ve all been thinking it. But I did some research, and it’s not as simple as they once thought. Eye color isn’t just a matter of dominant and recessive genes.”
“So…it is possible he is?”
“Technically. Except all Highwaters have had blue eyes as far back as we could find. And her—” he didn’t elaborate, as none of them ever did “—family had blue eyes at least back to her great-grandparents.”
She studied him for a moment, and he wondered what she was thinking. Second thoughts, on finding out the Highwater history was nowhere near as straightforward as her own?
“I know your memories of her are not…fond. But…could it be you are letting your feelings about her affect your thinking?”
“Maybe.” Sean tapped a finger on the handle of his coffee mug. “But if he’s…if he had a different father, I always wondered…”
“What?”
He looked across at her. He’d never told anyone, even his family, the thought that had haunted him from the moment he’d been old enough to understand about infidelity and Kane’s different looks. But now, looking at her, at those warm, dark eyes, at her encouraging expression, he couldn’t hold it back.
“He was next, after me. I always wondered if I was the reason. If I did something, or wasn’t what she wanted. If she…strayed because of me.”
Elena’s brows rose. “Were you not a toddler yourself when he was born?”
“I…yeah. But I was already weird.”
He was a little shocked when she looked amused. “Forgive me, querido, but I cannot decide if you have an oversized guilty conscience, or an exaggerated sense of your own influence at two years old.”
Sean stared at her. His heart was hammering so hard he could hear his pulse in his ears. Not because she had so gently yet thoroughly put his hidden, childish fear in context, making it impossible to cling to, but because of that one single word of endearment. And that there had been no hesitation, no doubt when she’d said it.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow night.” His voice sounded tight even to him.
“And I wish I didn’t have to go home tonight.”
“The ball,” he said, not even sure how to put into words what he wanted to say.
“I will make certain I do not have to go home that night, if you will make certain we have someplace else to go.”
His pulse kicked into overdrive. “Guaranteed,” he said. His mind followed his pulse, and he was considering and rapidly discarding possibilities—the ranch, no, not ready for that, a motel room in town was too…tacky, it had to be someplace really nice—as he walked back toward his car. And over it all loomed one simple fact.
Leaving her was getting harder and harder.
*
If he had had any doubts, the constant ache Sean felt at being even this far away from Elena and home would have vanquished them. Fort Worth was fine, at least it was Texas, but Last Stand had always been home for him. And now it was interwoven with Elena, and the pull was nearly irresistible. The daily texts and nightly phone calls hadn’t been enough, although hearing her voice did ease the ache for a while. Until he had to go to bed alone.
But he’d survived. The seminar, which had been both more difficult—who’d have thought they’d want to know every damned step he’d taken and why?—and easier—apparently “I just had a hunch,” was an acceptable answer to that—than he’d expected.
And now, as soon as he completed one last task he’d set himself, one that had nothing to do with what had brought him here, he would be on his way home.
His map program called out that this was his turn, and he slowed. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this, but he felt he had to. Still he hesitated at the entrance. Grimaced at his own indecisiveness, here at the place where so many heroes were buried. Made himself go on, as he imagined many of them had had to do.
It took longer than he’d thought, but mainly because once he’d found the place he was after, he’d spent a lot of time fumbling for the words, words that would never be heard yet he felt had to be said.
And in the quiet peace of this place by a small lake, he said them.
Chapter Thirty
Sean had never seriously dated when he was in high school. He’d gone to exactly one dance, and that only because Lark had asked him to help her show up her ex who had dumped her the night before. He hadn’t been sure he was I’ll-show-him material, but with Sage and Slater’s help, he’d cleaned up nice enough, and Shane had rather sternly pointed out that he was a Highwater, and that was enough for most people in Last Stand. And in his brief stint at college, he’d been too devastated by his father’s death to even think about it much.
But he wasn’t sure all that explained why he was a wreck now. Why he was sitting here in his car, trying to work up the nerve to go up to the door of Elena’s house. Or rather her mother’s house, which didn’t ease his nerves much. As warmly as she had accepted him, this was different somehow. This wasn’t Marcos dragging him along or vice versa, or them being together because of a fluke of timing and opportunity, or an impulse thing, this was…a date.
He hadn’t even seen her after he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been buried in catching up from his three days gone. And she had, almost teasingly, said she wanted to wait until now anyway. Somehow that increased his nervousness. But as edgy as he was, he wanted—no, needed—to see her more. The five days since he’d seen her felt like a year, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that.
He got to the front door without breaking into a run. Her mother answered, and after he stepped inside she looked him up and down. She apparently approved of his formal attire, because after a moment she nodded.
“You’ll do.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m glad you took the effort. And I think you will be too, when you see her.” Sean swallowed rather tightly, and couldn’t think of a thing to say. And then her expression changed, softened, and she added in a voice just as soft, “You have been very good for my daughter, Sean Highwater. I thank you for that.”
He blinked. “I…have?”
“I think you will see what I mean shortly. Oh,” she added as if she’d only just thought of it, “and I don’t want to see either of you until tomorrow.”
He had no idea what to say to that. He’d had no idea Elena would have told her mother of their plans. He was grateful
when Marcos raced in. At a lifted brow from his grandmother the boy slowed to a walk.
“Wow, you’re all dressed up,” Marcos said, wrinkling his nose as if he found the idea distasteful.
“Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he said, giving the boy a wry smile.
“I don’t get what that means.”
“You will. Some day.”
“You and my mom are really going to that fundraiser thing?”
“We are.”
“Why?”
Oh, the list I could give you… “It’s for a good cause, one I believe in.”
“The rodeo thing, right?” Sean nodded. “Did you ever do that stuff?”
“Not officially, no.” He grinned at the boy then, feeling a little of his tension ease. “I left that mostly to my brother Shane, because he was the best at it. Well, until my sister came along.”
“Do you think I could ever do that?”
Sean looked at the boy consideringly. “Maybe. You learned pretty fast that day at the ranch.”
Marcos lit up. “Cool! I’d like to—Uh-oh. I gotta go.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Gran said I had to leave you alone as soon as my mom was ready.” The boy’s gaze flicked toward the top of the stairs. “But it’s Christmas vacation now, and I get to play my game until bedtime!” And then he was scampering back the way he’d come.
Sean turned to look the direction Marcos had. At the vision that had appeared at the top of the stairs. And forgot to breathe.
She wasn’t in her usual black, or even black and white. Nor was she in a sedate, businesslike dress.
She was a tall, incredible column of brilliant, pure red, in a sleeveless dress that was cut modestly high at the neck but flowed down her tall, slender body and pooled at her feet, not clinging yet somehow emphasizing every gorgeous feminine curve. And her hair. God, her hair was down, free, in a wild mane of shimmering waves of richest black, flowing halfway down her back. As it had been the night of the storm, by the time they’d finally sated that ferocious need.
A Lone Star Christmas (Texas Justice Book 3) Page 19
