Liz sat down beside Shelley and went over the options while Colt stood sentry next to the bench. “We could appeal Judge Warfield’s decision, of course,” the lawyer said, “but that would require waiting six to nine months for a hearing.”
“Then that’s out,” Shelley decided.
Liz offered up another suggestion. “You could go ahead and let them evict you and forfeit the property and then repurchase it at auction. Sue your ex in civil court and try to recover the money he owes you as well as additional damages.”
Shelley shook her head, tearing up slightly. “I don’t have the money for all of that.” She wiped the moisture beneath her eyes with her fingertips.
“Or you could press criminal charges for fraud, since Tully did all this without your permission. And attempt to use that action to try and get an injunction placed on the eviction order.”
Shelley bit her lip. “What are the chances of us being able to accomplish that in the next five days?”
Liz frowned. “Not good.”
Shelley fell silent. “I know what the judge said, but I still think my quarrel is with the bank. They notified Tully but they didn’t notify me, and they had a duty to check and see that we were no longer legally married.”
Liz—who had a reputation for wanting to right all wrongs—lit up. “You want to sue the bank?”
Shelley grinned back. “I want you to write a demand letter threatening to sue the bank if they don’t put a stay on the eviction and auction, which would hopefully give us the time to sort this all out.”
Liz paused. “You understand this is a big bank. It’s going to be like trying to knock off a spaceship with a peashooter.”
“It’s also a public relations nightmare for them,” Shelley scoffed. “A single mom being kicked out of her home versus a big bank that’s just not interested in finding out the truth behind an unwarranted foreclosure....”
“I thought you wanted to keep this situation with your ex-husband from going public and getting ugly,” Colt interjected.
Shelley sobered, her concern for her son intact. “I still want to settle this quietly, as should the bank. But the powers that be don’t know that.”
“So you’ll bluff...” Colt surmised.
She nodded. “And hope Tully’s creditors realize the error of their ways and go after Tully and any property he still has as recompense for his debt, instead of foreclosing on mine.”
When Liz told Shelley what it would cost to have her put that strategy into motion, Shelley flinched slightly but didn’t deter from her path. She stood and slung her handbag over her shoulder, all positive energy once again. “I know it looks impossible now,” she stated resolutely, “but I’m not going to let them evict us.”
Colt watched her saunter off, unsure whether to admire her courage or worry over her continued naiveté.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN HANDLE all this?” Kendall asked Shelley over the phone two days later.
Trying not to worry about the fact she’d not yet heard anything from the bank regarding Liz’s demand letter, Shelley carried her phone out onto the front porch. Finished with teaching for the day, and still waiting for her son to wake up from his afternoon nap, she sank down on the porch swing.
“I promised you a dance for the procession,” Shelley told Kendall, “and I’ll deliver one.” She had been working on the choreography between classes of budding ballerinas and hip hop dancers.
“But that plus all the other little things—like making the ribbons for the pews and cutting up little squares of netting for the birdseed—is an awful lot.”
Not, Shelley rationalized, compared to what Kendall and her fiancé had been through since he’d been injured. “How is Gerry?” she asked gently.
“Responding to the antibiotics, but still running a low-grade fever.”
“And as long as he has fever...”
Kendall’s voice quavered. “His doctors won’t give him permission to travel, so we can’t finish our move from the naval station in Bethesda to the naval station in San Diego.”
“But your families are there to help you, aren’t they?”
“Yes, thank heavens. But with the ceremony only fifteen days away...”
“Tell your moms not to worry. With Colt and I both on the job, it’s all going to get done,” she promised her friend. “Speaking of whom...”
“He’s there?”
“It figures. Right on schedule.”
The two women ended the call just as he drove up. Buddy was sitting beside him, looking out the window.
Colt got out of his pickup truck. Dressed in faded jeans and a rumpled short-sleeved button up, his dark hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, he strode around the back of the truck. He always looked good in uniform. In street clothes, he was even more sexy, and as she watched him move in his easy, purposeful way, Shelley felt her heart leap in her chest. She hadn’t realized until now how much she had missed seeing him, since moving away from Laramie. Grinning, Colt paused to open the tailgate. He hefted two fifty-pound bags of birdseed onto his broad shoulders and ambled toward her. “Where do you want these?”
Still clad in the black leotard, matching tie-on skirt and red ballet slippers she’d worn to class, Shelley held the door open. “Upstairs.” She led the way, with Colt right behind her. As she reached the landing, she put her finger to her lips. “We have to be quiet,” she whispered. “Austin’s still napping.”
“No problem,” Colt whispered back.
Damn, but he smelled good, too. Like soap and a very brisk, masculine cologne.
Shelley led the way up the stairs, past the master suite and the nursery—where Austin still slept—to the last room. Her old bedroom was embarrassingly intact from her high school days. One look at Colt’s face as he took in the white provincial twin bed with the pink-and-white gingham bedspread, told her he remembered, too. A mixture of mischief and nostalgia glimmered in his eyes as he looked over at the window, which overlooked the side of the wraparound front porch.
He had climbed up the trellis to the roof more than once, while—unbeknownst to her parents—Shelley waited to let him in.
Once inside her bedroom, they had spent many a night with moonlight falling over them, making out on her bed. The sentimental curve of Colt’s lips told her he was remembering, too.
Shelley shook her head and met Colt’s glance. “I can’t believe we used to do that,” she whispered.
He nodded. “If we’d been caught...”
Her tummy tightened with an aching need that had gone unmet for way too long. “Life as we knew it would have been over for both of us.”
“Grounded for life. Definitely.”
But they hadn’t been. And now, Shelley thought wistfully, being here with him like this brought only white-hot memories. It was a good thing they had agreed to be just friends.
* * *
IT WAS NO SECRET TO COLT THAT the residents of Laramie loved to shower newlyweds as they ran down the community church steps to the waiting limo. Hence, there were three more bags of birdseed in the back of his truck. By the time he had carried them all up to Shelley’s room, where the rolls of ribbon and white netting awaited, Austin was standing up in his crib. Bright green eyes still rimmed with sleep, cheeks flushed pink, his auburn curls damp and standing on end, he was pounding on the crib railing with the flat of both hands.
“Mom-ma!” Austin yelled at the top of his lungs. “I up!” Spying Colt in the hallway, his grin widened merrily. “My deppity!” Holding out both arms, the little tyke gestured to Colt to pick him up. “Mine!” he declared, even more possessively. “My deppity!”
Colt was just as happy to see the little boy. Shelley was luckier than she knew. The longing to have a family of his own swelled in his chest. If only she could see him that way, as a potentia
lly loving husband and father instead of as the inconsiderate heartbreaker he had once been....
“Hold on there! Not so fast, fella,” Shelley intercepted Austin before he could try and vault out of the bed and launch himself into Colt’s arms. “We have a wet diaper that needs tending to.”
Austin plopped down obediently and stretched out on his crib mattress to await changing. When Shelley reached for the elastic of his shorts, her son pushed her hand away. “No!” he insisted. “Deppity do it.”
Shelley flushed, clearly embarrassed. “Sweetheart, we can’t ask Colt to do that. It’s not his job. It’s mine.”
“Want Deppity!” Austin demanded, his lower lip quavering.
Here was his chance to let Shelley see him in a new light. “I don’t mind,” Colt volunteered.
Shelley paused. “Have you ever even changed a diaper?”
Colt’s mouth twitched. “Try me and find out.”
Still looking skeptical, Shelley handed him a pull-up diaper and packet of wipes. “By all means, have at it.”
Colt stepped forward. Actually, he hadn’t ever done this. But he’d watched it done many times. How hard could it be? Plenty, as it turned out. First of all, he couldn’t seem to get the taped sides on the soggy pull-up diaper to separate. He tugged once. The tape held. Tugged again. Still, nothing. Austin giggled as if they were playing a game.
Colt hoped he didn’t appear as befuddled as he felt. “Hmm.” He stroked the underside of his jaw with his knuckles. “Maybe we should try the other side.”
Unfortunately, it had the same problem. Glued together elastic that just wouldn’t part.
Sympathetic to his plight, Austin pushed Colt’s hand away. “I do it,” he said. He stood, and grabbing one part of the diaper in each tiny fist, he gave a mighty tug. Just like that, the sides split apart, easy as could be.
“You must have loosened it for him,” Shelley mocked.
“Very funny,” Colt groused, unable to help chuckling, too.
With a rebel yell and a giggle, Austin kicked free of his damp pull-up. Shelley stepped in long enough to clean the diaper area with a wipe, then handed Colt a clean pull-up diaper. “Back to you....”
The good news was that the sides of the disposable diaper were already together. The bad news was Colt could not figure out which side was the front and which was the back. There were animal characters printed on both.
Shelley watched in bemusement, as if wondering if he would ask for help. The answer was no. Austin stood, hands clasped on the railing, waiting for Colt to continue.
He turned it every which way, then finally decided to put the donkey and the elephant on the front, the tiger and the bear on the back.
Austin shook his head, before Colt could follow through. “Nuh-uh,” he said firmly.
Colt turned the diaper around. Austin stepped in and Colt slid the pull-up on. Followed it with the clean pair of cotton shorts Shelley produced.
“All done!” Austin exclaimed. Clamoring to get out, he jumped up and down on the crib mattress, still holding on to the railing.
“Say thank you to Colt for helping,” Shelley said.
“Thank you!” Austin beamed, just as the doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone?” Colt asked Shelley.
“No.” Shelley picked up Austin and handed him over to Colt. “But then I wasn’t expecting you, either.”
Moving past him in an intoxicating drift of perfume, she led the way down the stairs. Colt followed, Austin cradled comfortably in his arms. Shelley opened the door. To both their surprise, on the other side of the threshold stood Colt’s parents.
* * *
SHELLEY HADN’T SEEN JOSIE AND Wade McCabe for years, but she had always liked Colt’s folks. His father, a tall handsome man with silver threading his dark hair, was a multimillionaire investor. His mother, a youthful looking woman with glossy brown hair and azure eyes, was a famous lady wildcatter, known for finding oil where no one else could. They’d fallen in love when Josie went to work for Wade, and their love story was the stuff of Laramie County legend. Together, they’d nurtured successful careers and raised five sons.
“Hi, Shelley. Good to see you again,” Josie said. She eyed Shelley speculatively, as if she were wondering if something was going on with the high school sweethearts again. “Hate to stop by without calling first, but we’re about to leave town and we need to speak with Colt before we go.”
His brow furrowed in concern, he stepped out onto the porch with his parents.
“I’ll let you-all talk privately,” Shelley said. She took Austin from Colt and went inside.
To her embarrassment, her son was none too happy about being separated from Colt. “My deppity!” he bellowed, trying to wiggle out of Shelley’s arms to run back to Colt. “Mine! Mine!”
“You can see him in a minute,” Shelley soothed, moving politely away from the trio conversing quietly on her front porch. She soothed her son by gently rubbing his back. “Right now we need to fix a snack for our deppity. Would you like to help me do that?”
The only thing Austin liked more than eating food was messing with it. “I can cook?” he asked, his protest momentarily forgotten.
“You sure can,” Shelley promised, relieved he was no longer acting like a little heathen. She strapped him into his wheeled booster chair, pulled it up to the table and got to work.
Five minutes later, he was happily ensconced, finger painting dabs of cream cheese and jelly onto wheat crackers, then stuffing them into his mouth.
Colt suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked ticked off.
“So what’s going on with your parents?” Shelley asked, before she could stop herself.
Colt evaded her gaze. “My folks ran into someone I know who was asking a lot of questions about me. They wanted to know why.”
“And the answer to that was...?”
Simultaneously mulling over her question and responding to the attempt to get his attention, Colt bent down to take the cracker Austin held out to him. The two locked eyes with such affection Shelley felt her heart expand.
“Thanks, sport,” Colt said.
Austin grinned and set about making another. Shelley waited while Colt munched on his cracker as if it were the best thing in the entire world, even though Shelley was pretty sure the handsome lawman wouldn’t have mixed cream cheese and grape jelly on his own.
Finally, Colt turned back to her. “I don’t really know why the officer was asking my folks those particular questions.”
“You think the person was out of line, though, in their inquiry.”
Colt grimaced. “Yes.”
This was a side of him she’d never seen. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Colt shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nothing much I can do. In case you haven’t heard,” he quipped, “free speech is a cornerstone of our constitution. Not just allowed, but encouraged.”
Frustrated he was trying to use wry humor to deflect attention from himself, Shelley edged closer. “You could tell the person doing the talking out of turn that you didn’t appreciate their curiosity.”
Colt’s jaw tautened. Again, he averted his attention right back to her son. He hunkered down with a smile to accept another cracker. “It wouldn’t help,” he said, more pensive than ever.
“Really?” Shelley prodded, hoping to get Colt to confide in her instead of shutting her out like he’d been known to do in the past. “Because I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt you.”
Colt flashed a brooding smile and didn’t respond. He patted Austin on the shoulder, then rose. “I’ve got to go,” he told her gently. “So...rain check on helping you fill those birdseed bags?”
Shelley ached to be there for him, the way he had recently been there for her. But his barriers were fi
rmly in place and it seemed all he wanted now was his privacy.
She swallowed. “No problem. We still have almost two weeks till the wedding.” Then she squared her shoulders and walked him as far as the kitchen doorway.
Maybe it was having him here in this house, in the intimacy of the kitchen, and seeing his parents again. Suddenly it felt as if they were somehow sliding back in time to the days when they had been not just friends, but had their lives intimately entwined.
Which in turn made her regret having stated unequivocally that they would be just friends. Nothing more.
“In the meantime,” Shelley reminded pleasantly, “don’t forget that at eight o’clock Monday evening the entire wedding party is meeting up at the Laramie Community Chapel.”
He came toward her with easy grace, his eyes darkening with heat and something more. He reached up to gently touch her cheek and promised with a tenderness that threatened to completely undo her, “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Six
Two evenings later, Colt parked down the street from the community chapel. He had just put his truck in park, when fellow groomsman and coworker Deputy Rio Vasquez approached his vehicle. Like Colt, Rio had worked the day shift and was now in casual attire. Unlike Colt, Rio looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Got a minute to talk before we go to the wedding party meeting?” Rio asked.
Always ready to help a friend, Colt nodded. He left the engine and AC running as the other deputy slid in out of the 105-degree summer heat.
“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Rio bit out gruffly.
Aware his friend was beginning to sound like his parents when they’d stopped by to talk to him the other day, Colt asked carefully, “What do you mean?”
Rio made no effort to contain his exasperation. “You spent the entire shift in an interview room with Ilyse Adams.”
Colt had also complained to Sheriff Ben Shepherd about the IA officer “unofficially” interviewing his parents while commenting on how well he seemed to be doing. Financially. Which in turn had led them to explain that he had a trust fund to draw on any time he pleased.
The Texas Lawman's Woman Page 7
