Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good ManPromises Under the Peach TreeHusband by Choice

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Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good ManPromises Under the Peach TreeHusband by Choice Page 22

by Janice Kay Johnson


  “No.” Reid heard how hard his voice was. “It’s not. TJ, if your father is really behind all this, he’s responsible. Him and no one else. Caleb would say the same thing. And no, you’re not going anywhere. You’re a victim as much as Caleb is. More. We’re going to find a way to keep you safe. You hear me?”

  The boy stared at him, seemingly stunned.

  Paula scooted along the bench until she could wrap her arm around the boy who looked like a man. “Of course you’re not leaving us,” she said softly.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Roger echoed.

  TJ’s face crumpled and he began to sob.

  Throat working, Clay Renner stood and jerked his head toward the door. Embarrassed that his eyes were burning, Reid nodded and went with him.

  Outside, the two men stood on the porch. Both of them stared out at the woods that shielded the old resort from the road and neighbors. Renner let out a gusty sigh at last.

  “God damn. Sawyer, I don’t see how we can protect the Hales, not if Haveman is behind this. It would involve a shitpot full of lying, and that would only work if he keeps his mouth shut.”

  “Which he won’t do,” Reid said flatly. “He’s going to claim he’s over here on a legitimate mission to try to get his boy back from renegades who hide runaway kids from their legal guardians. Shining the spotlight on the Hales will suit his purposes.”

  “That’s what I think, too.” Renner turned his back on the view and leaned a hip against the porch railing. “What do you suggest?”

  “We find the son of a bitch first.”

  A crack of mirthless laughter came from Renner. “Good plan.”

  Reid grinned reluctantly. “I don’t have jurisdiction.”

  Renner’s face sobered. “No. I’ll call every one of his stores and his home. We’ll nail down his schedule.”

  “Which will tell him his son is here in Angel Butte if he doesn’t already know.”

  “Yeah.” Renner’s regret was obvious. “It will. That doesn’t mean he’ll be able to touch him.”

  “No.” Reid ran a hand over his head. “Let me know what I can do to help.”

  “You helped, cracking the kid open in there. You should be focusing on your brother.”

  “There’s...not much I can do, until he opens his eyes.” Until was such a positive word. He wished he entirely believed it.

  “You hear about Jane’s sister?” the other man asked unexpectedly.

  Reid turned toward him. “No.”

  Renner frowned at the woods. “Melissa was in a car accident. No, it was more complicated than that—her kid was grabbed and held hostage. Turned out Lissa had been blackmailing her boss, who was using his trucking outfit to run drugs.” He slanted an apologetic glance at Reid. “Sorry. None of that’s relevant.”

  “Some part of it must be.” He kept stumbling over other melodramas. It probably said something about him that he felt better to discover these colleagues—maybe new friends—had suffered through deep shit of their own. Maybe that was why they were sympathetic to the Hales—and to him.

  “She was in a coma. Lasted for days. We weren’t sure she’d make it or who she’d be if she did open her eyes.”

  Reid winced.

  “Thing is, she’s fine.” One side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Serving a prison sentence, but that’s a whole other story.”

  “I wouldn’t mind hearing it one of these days.”

  Renner clapped him on the back. “We’ll have you to dinner once Caleb’s home with you.”

  Reid winced again.

  Renner’s blue eyes were friendly. “A little worried about becoming parent to a teenager?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Is that what you have in mind?”

  Reid drew a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. He needs me.” I need him.

  “Good. Keep me updated on his condition and I’ll do the same on what I learn.”

  “Thank you.”

  With an amiable nod, Renner departed in the Jeep Cherokee. Reid stayed where he was for a few minutes, not looking forward to going back in and talking to Paula and Roger, looking forward even less to the talk he had to have with Anna when they met up again.

  * * *

  REID’S FIRST REACTION at the sight of Anna rising from one of the chairs outside ICU was pleasure. The second was dismay.

  That discussion would have to be now, before things blew up and she learned the truth some other way.

  And then he got a good look at her face and thought, Oh, shit. She knew. Maybe not everything, but something.

  “Hold whatever you’re thinking,” he said abruptly. “Let me check on Caleb.”

  No change. He stood at his brother’s bedside long enough to gather himself, not talking this time, just gripping his hand. Finally he said, “I’m here, Caleb. Whenever you’re ready.” Then he walked out.

  Anna was waiting. They were alone out here, but for the elderly volunteer who sat behind a desk guarding the inner sanctum. He took Anna’s arm and led her far enough away so they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Diego’s father here yet?”

  Disgust and maybe a hint of fear flashed across her face. “Oh, yeah. He considered assaulting me, but thought better of it in time. It’s almost too bad.”

  Reid ground his teeth. Almost assaulted her? “That son of a bitch,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not the first time, won’t be the last.” Her eyes swam with emotions he didn’t want to decipher. “You lied to me.”

  Crap. Wearily, he sank into a chair. “Yeah.”

  She stood over him, anger and hurt undiminished. “Let me rephrase that. You’ve been lying to me. All along. Over and over.”

  “I didn’t want to.” He knew how weak that sounded, and said it anyway.

  Anna didn’t even bother scoffing. “Why?”

  “Because I knew you’d turn the Hales in.”

  “The Hales.” Recognition dawned. “Roger. The man who was here at the hospital.”

  Reid nodded. “The hit-and-run happened a few hundred yards from his place.”

  “He heard it?” she said slowly.

  Oh, man. “No. A third boy was there, Anna. He...dived into a ditch and didn’t get hurt beyond a few bruises and scrapes. Diego had enough presence of mind to tell him to go to the Hales’. TJ...has one of the worst parents of all.”

  Her face was ghost pale. After a moment, she sagged into a chair. Not the one next to his. The empty seat between them felt like, and was meant to be, a chasm. “All,” she repeated, sounding shocked despite whatever she’d thought she knew.

  “They have...had ten boys,” he told her. His voice was robotic. “The Hales are good people, Anna, whether you want to believe it or not. They’ve been doing this for years.”

  “Hiding children from their legal guardians and the authorities.”

  “Hiding children from viciously abusive guardians. Children who, no matter what the allegations, were sent home over and over again.” His voice gained passion as he willed her to understand. “Children no one listened to. Refused to believe.” His jaw tightened. “I was one of those children.”

  She stared at him, unblinking. “An underground shelter.”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “And you truly believe this is the right way to rescue these kids.”

  His “Yes” lacked as much force as he wanted to inject into it.

  “Foster parents being overseen by no one. Who could be abusive themselves, but have kids too scared of their alternative to speak up or take off.”

  “They’re not—”

  Her hand chopped off his ability to speak.

  “Foster parents whose background has never been investigate
d. Who, even assuming they have the best will in the world, are robbed of any ability to investigate adults they introduce to the kids.”

  Reid was held silent by the memory of police lieutenant Duane Brewer, who had mentored, raped and murdered girls from the Hales’ shelter—a man whose past they couldn’t check out. In fact, the very secretiveness of their operation left them vulnerable to unspoken blackmail. Brewer had been a cop; he could have exposed them if they hadn’t welcomed him as a volunteer, let him take kids anywhere, anytime, he wanted.

  Whatever hurt Anna felt was no longer apparent. All he saw was ferocity.

  “Foster parents who had no recourse when a kid chose to take off. They couldn’t go looking for him, the way I did Yancey.”

  Reid had thought of that, too. Imagined kids who couldn’t cut it at the Hales doing something as desperate and stupid as thirteen-year-old Yancey had been about to, preparing to hitch across the country in search of a relative who would have rejected him if he’d ever gotten that far. In search of a dream.

  “Do you know what happens to kids when there is no oversight?” Suddenly, her voice shook. The pain in her eyes was back. “Let me tell you.”

  “Anna—”

  “No,” she said sharply. She sat on the edge of the seat, her back ruler straight. “I had a sister. Molly.”

  The grief on her face was a blow to his midriff. He reached for her hand, and she stiffened and shrank away. Don’t touch. After a moment, he let his hand drop to his side. He wasn’t sure he could say anything.

  “She was two years younger than me. We were... I don’t know. On our second or third foster home. We had a new caseworker. She insisted that this was a wonderful family. They had acreage, and dogs, and even a pony. She would visit often. She promised.”

  For all his experience, Reid had never heard a single word said with such shattering pain. She didn’t have to tell him what had happened, but she did.

  “She lied. Or forgot because she got busy. Who knows? What I know is that we spent a year and a half in hell. I was in first grade. I should have told my teacher what was going on, but I didn’t. I saw how much she liked them both. We were lucky girls to have a home with them, she said.”

  His throat unlocked. “She didn’t know.”

  “No. She didn’t. Maybe she would have listened. But I was only six, and I kept thinking, Miss Byrd promised.” There it was again, a lethal slice of pain. “She’ll be back and I can tell her and she’ll take us somewhere else. Someplace safe. Only—” Her voice broke. “She didn’t. Not in time.” Anna breathed hard, and then she glared at him as if it was all his fault. “He killed my little sister, and I have to live with the guilt because I should have told someone. Anyone. I should have—”

  Reid stood and reached for her.

  She leaped up and retreated, her expression wild. “Don’t touch me. Don’t!”

  His fingers curled and uncurled. “Please. Anna, let me—”

  “That is what you encouraged. Condoned.”

  There was no good answer. It was true. All of it.

  “Condemned your brother to.”

  He felt the first stirring of anger. “I visited often. I promised I would, and I kept that promise.”

  “Lucky Caleb,” she said, bitterly scathing. “What about all the other kids? Years’ worth of other kids?”

  “I lived with the Hales for three years. I know what kind of people they are. They saved a lot of kids.”

  “Every one who came to them?”

  There was no doubt she could see the answer on his face.

  He tried one more defense. “Have you saved all the kids who came to you?” The question came out sharper than he’d intended, and no sooner had he spoken than he realized how unintentionally cruel he’d been. She hadn’t been able to save the one child who meant the most to her: her own sister. And she would never forgive herself, despite the absurdity of a six-year-old child taking responsibility for protecting anyone else. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m sorry,” he said roughly.

  Anna only shook her head and backed away. “I thought at least we were friends.”

  “We were.” Desperation swept through him. “We are. Anna—”

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She took an angry swipe at them, turned and walked away. Her walk became faster and faster until she was almost running by the time she disappeared from sight.

  Reid dropped into the chair again, feeling as if he’d been shot.

  I love her. I would do anything—

  He buried his face in his hands. Anything. Like tell unforgivable lies.

  Anna, Anna.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ANNA WENT HOME.

  She didn’t tell anyone where she was going. She didn’t let herself worry about whether Diego might need her. She couldn’t imagine going to work tomorrow. What would she do? Lie, like he had? Claim to be sick?

  I am sick.

  At first she did nothing but sit on her sofa and stare at the wall, remembering every lie Reid had ever told her. Every flickering expression that crossed his face when he told those lies.

  He hadn’t known her. Not well enough to realize what those particular lies would mean to her.

  I don’t have to be fair.

  No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t be. She was obligated to report the Hales. How could she not, even knowing what that would do to Reid?

  She was hugging herself for warmth when it occurred to her she hadn’t adjusted the thermostat. It took her another five minutes to make herself get up and do it, then grab a fleece throw from the back of a chair to wrap around herself. A cup of tea would be nice but...would take more effort than she had to give.

  Inevitably, her mind started clicking again, starting with a slide show. All Reid.

  The man she’d first met, who was so good at hiding what he felt, she’d wondered if he did feel anything. The smiles he began letting loose. The thousand other emotions he’d let her see since.

  And she remembered how much he had told her, even as he kept secrets. His wretched childhood, his bafflement over how to reach the brother he hadn’t known he had. His clumsy attempts to create a relationship she could see he craved, for all he didn’t want to need it—or to let anyone else see what he must believe was a weakness. His honesty the night they first had sex. Made love. She couldn’t imagine he’d ever revealed as much to anyone. The tenderness and passion he’d given her since, not easy for him, but a part of the man nonetheless. His cold anger at his father. His terror when he heard about the accident. The awful look in his eyes every time he came out of the ICU after sitting at Caleb’s side.

  The even worse look in his eyes when she backed away, rejecting even his touch.

  I love him, she thought miserably. I threw him away.

  I think he might love me.

  Oh, dear God. Was she really going to let the horror of Molly’s death justify a loveless life?

  Curled in a tight ball on her sofa, Anna didn’t know. Had no idea how to let go of the guilt and anger and grief that had made her who she was. Or even if she wanted to let go.

  * * *

  WEARY TO THE BONE, Reid still made himself drive back out to the shelter that evening. When he walked in, all the boys except TJ were in the main room. Heads turned, and he saw that the sight of him scared them. As it should, he thought bleakly. He had a feeling their reaction had more to do with how he looked than with recent events.

  Paula emerged from the kitchen, her eyes locking on Reid. “Boys.” She spoke sharply enough to gain their attention. “Time to say good-night. Everyone to their cabins.”

  Except for a few minor grumbles, they complied, shooting backward glances until they were all gone.

  “TJ?” he asked.

  “Upstairs. Do you need to
talk to him?”

  “No. You and Roger.”

  “He’s—” They both heard the back door open and close again. “That’ll be him,” Paula said with relief.

  Now he was scaring her, too.

  “Just taking a walk around,” Roger said on seeing Reid, who suggested they sit down.

  They chose the table closest to the kitchen and the farthest from the stairwell. Reid would rather TJ didn’t hear what he had to say.

  “Your cover is blown,” he said bluntly. “We expected it would be once Sergeant Renner caught up to Haveman, if he’s our guy. But it’s happened sooner than we expected.”

  Roger looked stoic, Paula stricken.

  “Diego tried, but he let enough slip—” No, damn it, he would not lay the blame elsewhere. “When I spoke to Anna Grant, the social worker for Angel’s Haven who is trying to place Diego in a foster home, I told her the whole story. I think she’ll report you.”

  Neither said a word for a long time. Finally Roger bent his head. “I told you to use your judgment.”

  “She was...angry,” Reid said with difficulty. He told them enough of her story for them to understand. “It doesn’t help that I’ve been, uh, seeing her.” Sleeping with her. Falling in love with her. “Talking to her about Caleb, but telling a pack of lies, too. The fact that this is personal for her may not help your cause. I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  “No.” Paula’s gaze had never left his face. To his shock, she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “I’m sorry, Reid. If we’re responsible for damaging a relationship that meant something to you...”

  “My fault.” He couldn’t keep the bleakness from his voice. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does.”

  He only shook his head.

  They were all silent for a time again. Roger was the one to speak up.

  “Should we try to find places for the boys to go?”

  “I can’t advise you on that. None of this will help my career, but actively involving myself now in any action you take to hide the boys would cross a line. I can’t.”

 

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