Chapter Thirty-Five
* * *
So. Malachi had a date for church. Was it perhaps more serious between him and the medical examiner than his mother—or Paige—knew? Interesting.
He took a moment to study the woman who had apparently finally captured the great Malachi Brockman’s romantic attention. She was attractive, but the black pantsuit was a bit too severe for her features. Her hair was long and the color of the best organic honey he could purchase. Julia was small and delicately built, but perhaps that was what appealed to Malachi? Someone her size would make him feel strong and powerful, even more masculine. It would help him compensate for the weaknesses he hid from most of the world.
His lip raised in a sneer. He, and apparently he alone, knew Malachi had those weaknesses. Hadn’t he studied the other man for years? He’d even written his thesis on the overcompensation by what the world would consider masculine men. It had been a perfectly flawless paper, of course. And based entirely on Malachi.
He’d not realized at Thanksgiving that the medical examiner had a child, and Paige hadn’t mentioned it, either. He would have thought that was a significant fact about the medical examiner. The girl resembled her mother not at all, though she was a pretty child. Around the age of two or three, perhaps? He was not an expert on young children—by choice. He didn’t like children and never had, though he worked with teenagers in his practice, as many were being tried as adults, and ending up in the adult system with the rest of the losers and dregs of society. He considered it his duty to help those kinds of people.
He wasn’t much of a religious man, but attending church was the socially acceptable norm for his area and background, and expected of someone in his type of position. He did, after all, work for a religiously affiliated organization that sent psychiatrists such as him into the prisons and halfway houses and juvenile services facilities. Yes, if he was to keep his prominent community position and allow it to grow into his future political position, he needed to be associated with a nice, active, prominent congregation.
Meredith had recommended this church to him when she and Kenneth first started attending. And Meredith had yet to steer him wrong in any way. He looked at the woman in question and smiled. She looked quite beautiful in the light coming in through the stained glass window she sat near. If only she was twenty years younger…
Alas, she wasn’t. And since he needed children to complete his political image that left Meredith out. Unfortunately, though Alessandra was an extremely beautiful woman who would look fabulous and perfect on a poster or mailer, her personality was too grating for his needs. No, Paige would more than suffice for his needs. Once he molded her into the perfect image that he sought.
Paige sat on Meredith’s left, between her and Kenneth. Sometimes she attended church with the Brockman family, and he always hoped to see her. As soon as he finished his match with Malachi, he would turn his attention to his romantic future.
Malachi led the medical examiner and the child to the pew, and she slipped in next to Meredith’s right.
Meredith obviously liked the young woman, her surprise and pleasure was easy for anyone to read on her face. But the medical examiner, Dr. Julia Bellows appeared extremely uncomfortable.
Interesting.
Malachi sat very close to her, and was clearly teasing the little girl still on the medical examiner’s lap. His arm slipped behind Julia and he leaned toward her. Possessive.
Yes, Malachi held some extremely strong feelings for the woman.
Interesting. What would that mean for their game? Was this a result perhaps of his unfortunate move back in November? Had he unintentionally allowed Malachi to move a pawn into place where it could be queened?
He sat back, and instead of following the sermon, began to strategize.
Chapter Thirty-Six
* * *
Malachi couldn’t listen to the sermon, not with Julia so close. Did she realize that the soap she used, that strawberry scent he’d associated with her from the very beginning of their acquaintance, made him think of hot summer nights and the taste of her skin beneath his lips?
Church was the worst place he needed to be remembering the last time he’d tasted her skin. South Dakota seemed so long ago, though it had been less than two weeks.
He also wasn’t oblivious to the looks they were getting—even from his own mother. He followed her gaze, and saw that somehow he’d wrapped an arm around Julia. And she’d scooted closer to his side, Ruthie still on her lap. That was major, in his mother’s viewpoint. A man only put a hand on a single woman in church if he was serious about his relationship with her. He’d had that lesson drummed into him with his first high school girlfriend. His mother had made the rules for church very, very clear. So clear that Malachi remembered them well, and knew his mother still considered those the rules. Just like his brother Mick, his mother was a big stickler for following rules to the exact letter. He smiled at his mother, but left his arm where it was. Her brows rose and she smiled. Approving. He nodded, knowing the two of them would talk later. But his mother wouldn’t intrude or interfere. It wasn’t her way. He’d told her with just that one action that he was serious about the woman beside him. And she understood.
As the sermon progressed, both Julia and Ruthie relaxed somewhat. Julia sang along from the hymn book he held, and Ruthie sat in the pew and colored pictures the church provided in the pews each week, just for kids who stayed in the sanctuary with their parents. They had a thriving children’s church, but one of the tenants of this church was that children were a part of the church body, and if parents wanted to keep them in the sanctuary for whatever reason, that was perfectly acceptable.
This church environment was probably exactly the kind of religious experience Ruthie needed.
After the sermon was finished, he heard his mother invite Julia and Ruthie to her house for dinner. It was something she had always done, even when Malachi was a small child. Sunday dinner was a tradition his entire family had enjoyed, and probably always would. Julia accepted, and Malachi fought to keep his elation off his face.
The trick to wooing Julia Bellows was going to be not doing so as obviously as Malachi wished. Just make it seem like the most natural thing in her world that he be there with her. He could do that; he’d already made a start.
***
Jules wasn’t sure she did the whole Sunday-dinner-family-thing, but how could she turn Meredith down? The older woman was one of the few non-work friends Jules could claim. To refuse her would have been way too rude.
Malachi was at her side, acting like the cat that had eaten three canaries, and something about his expression had the hair sticking up along her arms. He was up to something—it was right there in those blue, blue eyes of his.
But what?
She somehow ended up following him to his parents’ house. Paige and a few friends were in the car behind her. Jules wasn’t sure where Mikhail was, but as it was, Meredith’s table would be pretty crowded. And apparently she did it every Sunday. Jules would never have imagined that the whole church and family dinner thing even existed any more—especially with the people she worked with, but apparently it did.
Other than with George’s family, had she ever been a part of something so small-town TV-showish? Definitely not with Rick’s family. He and Bryan had pretty much been it. Their mother had been a cold, selfish witch who had vehemently opposed her and Georgia, and after they’d died she’d gone as far as to tell Jules privately that she was the reason both men were dead, and Matthew was an orphan.
The words Jules had thrown at that woman would never be repeated. She doubted Georgia even knew what had happened the day after Jules had miscarried her pregnancy so long ago.
Her hand covered her stomach unconsciously as she thought of that baby. She would always hurt for that child…always.
“Momma Jules, there was no brim-tone today.”
“No, baby, there wasn’t. Brimstone is just a story some people u
se to scare others into doing what they want them to do. Did you like the church?” Jules glanced in the rearview. Ruthie was watching the buildings go by, kicking her little black dress shoes against the console. She was calm and happy. Jules felt a bit of the stress tightening her spine float away. At least she hadn’t permanently scarred Ruthie this morning.
“I like Aunt Al. And Malki.” Ruthie nodded. “And I think he likes us lots. Is he going to be my new daddy? I think that would be ok. He’s not mean and scary like my last daddy. Or like Mr. Lake.”
Mr. Lake, her foster father. She chose to focus on that rather than Ruthie’s actual question. “Honey, why was Mr. Lake so scary? What did he do to you?”
“He yelled at me. Said I was just like my other daddy.” Ruthie shrugged, but her body was tense. “And he liked to spank the other kids. Their real kids. Mrs. Lake wouldn’t let him spank me, though …”
Thank goodness for that, at least. “Honey, you are nothing like your other parents. You are a very good person, just like Hannah. Do you remember Hannah?”
“And baby Joey. Yes, but they were ‘mited for being bad. My other mommy told me so when Mrs. Lake took me to see her in jail.” Ruthie nodded sadly.
“Oh, baby.” She hadn’t known there had been visitation between Ruthie and Theresa Byrum, but she should have. It hadn’t been in the file. “Hannah is ok. She didn’t get smited. Smiting doesn’t happen when you’re bad; smiting is just an old word people used in stories to scare people. Kind of like boo. Ok?”
“They did too get ‘mited!”
“No. They didn’t. And if you want, we’ll ask Malachi. He helped Hannah and baby Joseph find a new place to live where they could be really happy.”
“Without me?” Ruthie’s tears were definitely starting.
Oh, crud. Not a meltdown, please not another meltdown. She couldn’t pull over and they were a few miles from the Brockman’s still. “Baby, it’s not like that. The court said Hannah couldn’t be with you anymore. Hannah didn’t like it and I know you don’t like it. But it was so you could both be safe. That’s why the court gave you to me.” A small fib, but it wouldn’t be a lie once the adoption was final in a year or so. “Maybe we can write Hannah a letter and draw her a picture of your new home and send to her. Would you like that?”
Ruthie was silent for a moment. “Yes. Do you think Hannah will come get me? Be my mommy again?”
“Is that what you want, sweetie?” A knife sharper than she’d ever expected dug at her heart.
“Sometimes.”
Should she press it, keep telling Ruthie that Hannah and her son—Ruthie’s biological nephew—were safe? Would Ruthie even have a concept of it?
Something else she’d discuss with Georgia or Meredith—or even her Galahad. It was his doing that had gotten Hannah into a halfway house for teen mothers, located on the edge of St. Louis.
She sighed as she proceeded through the green light. Was parenting always like this? So full of doubts and wishy-washy decision making? How was she supposed to know what was the right thing to do for Ruthie when half the time she didn’t even know what that meant for herself?
Both she and Ruthie were quiet the remaining three miles or so to Meredith and Kenneth’s. Paige pulled in right behind Jules and met hers as she was pulling Ruthie from the childseat. “Hey! It’s my favorite god-niece. What did you think of the singing, kiddo?”
Ruthie laughed and reached for Paige. She’d bonded with the other woman the few times they’d seen each other the last week. Both Al and Paige had come by to meet Ruthie. And Ruthie was fascinated by the two women. “It was funny. They sang like this!” She made a fishy face with her mouth wide open. “I didn’t know the words at all!”
“Wanna know a secret?” Paige whispered something in Ruthie’s ear, and Ruthie giggled.
“That’s silly!” Gone was the little girl worried about biblical wrath and in her place was a typical three-year-old. Thank goodness. Jules followed Paige and her friends—and Ruthie—into the comfortable two story craftsman. She’d been there a few times before with Al. Ruthie had spare clothes in the trunk of Jules’ car in a container Jules had packed for just-in-case days so Jules would get her out of her best dress—the only dressy outfit she’d purchased so far, they’d have to go shopping before next weekend—and into some play clothes. Then the little girl could run and play with abandon. Without worrying about her dress.
Meredith met them in the kitchen. “Wonderful, everyone is here! Mick and the dogs were here when we got home, so that’s all my kids together for Sunday dinner for once.”
The dogs in question were Malachi’s Border collies Lois and Clark, who’d followed Meredith in. Ruthie squealed and the dogs barked happily. Soon Ruthie was completely distracted from the adults around her and was playing with the two extremely gentle animals.
But where was their owner? Meredith seemed to read Jules’ mind. She looked right at Jules and answered. “Malachi is helping his father in the family room for a few minutes, if you all want to head that way. They’re setting up the extra table, since we have a lot of guests today.”
Jules didn’t know what to say. Had Meredith somehow gotten the idea that she and Malachi were closer than they were? Or than they had been? Darn him, for acting so possessive earlier. Did he realize how difficult he’d made things for her?
She knew her thoughts had to be written on her face as she stepped through the kitchen and down the small steps into the large family room where Malachi and his father and brother were working. He looked at her, his own expression questioning.
Jules glared. He did know what he was doing. The rat. He grinned, straight at her. It took every bit of restraint she had not to go slug him. Why did he bring out her most violent urges in her just by grinning at her?
***
She looked beautiful surrounded by his mother and rest of his family, clutching the hand of her little girl. Paige and several others were behind her, but Malachi barely noticed them. Julia was glaring at him, something he was accustomed to. But what had he done to her now?
He left Mick with the last of the tables, and went to Julia. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hallway that led to his father’s study. It took so little strength to back her against the wall. She wasn’t resistant. She still glared up at him, though. “Have I done something, my love?”
“You dork. You know you did. Your mother thinks you and I are together. Like together, together!”
He wanted to laugh at the scandalized look on her face. Weren’t they too old for that? “So? I’ve been with other women before. It wouldn’t surprise my mother if we were together. Like together, together. In fact, I don’t think it would shock her at all…” The strawberry scent was still there, mixed with the infinitely intoxicating smell of Julia. Damn, how he wanted her. “Julia…tell me you don’t think about that night?”
She pulled in a deep breath, her hands coming to rest against his chest. “I don’t need this now. Besides, anyone could see!”
“So? I don’t care if they do.” He ran his hand through the hair hanging over her shoulders. She’d left it down for once. So beautiful. He wrapped his fingers in the strands and then pulled until her head tilted back even farther. Just like he had in South Dakota. “Julia…I think about that night all the time. And I remember this…”
He kissed her and she didn’t fight him. Her hands slipped around his waist and she held on to him, tight. Clung. And eventually kissed him right back.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
* * *
Alessandra was one of the last to enter the house, and came in through the back door in time to see her brother grabbing at Jules and devouring her against the hallway wall. Jules didn’t seem to be minding at all.
Wow. Well. There was more heat there than Al could have imagined. Did they realize that? Or that anyone could see them? Or did they even care?
“Well, didn’t expect that.” Nate, one of her mother’s other guests, was coming out of t
he nearest bathroom, and was also witness to the show Malachi was putting on. “Haven’t seen him that into a girl since Catie Jones fifteen years ago. Not really the place for it, is it?”
Al shushed him and he grinned a very handsome grin. “Leave them alone. They deserve it.”
“Who is she? She looks familiar.”
“Jules Bellows. Medical Examiner for PAVAD.”
“Oh, yes. Now I remember. I believe we met at your brother’s party. They been dating long?”
“I don’t think they are. I think this is just an aberration. Come on. Mom needs help in the kitchen, and I know she’ll be happy to have you as a volunteer.” She pulled the man into the kitchen, leaving her brother to his private doings. If Malachi and Jules were getting together they didn’t need everyone else in their business.
When was the last time she’d seen Malachi that passionate about a woman? Not since he was in high school, at least. Funny. Wonder what it meant? Was her brother finally falling? Like seriously falling?
Her mother looked up when she and Nate entered the kitchen. Paige was already hard at work, slicing carrots and lettuce for the salad. She smiled at both of them. “Check it out, I’m learning to cook!”
“And the house hasn’t caught fire yet?” Al grabbed the rest of the lettuce and pretended to protect it. “What are the odds?”
“Haha. Make yourselves useful.” Paige tossed a head of cabbage and Al caught it. “I think that’s supposed to be cole slaw or something like that.”
“Kids, no throwing vegetables in the kitchen.” Meredith didn’t even look up from the large pot of soup she was stirring on the stove.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Malachi came in a few moments later, Jules a few steps behind him. Mal was flushed and Jules’ eyes had a strange glow, a vulnerability Al wasn’t used to seeing. Al smiled to herself; it was sweet, the two of them together. Did they realize how well they did complement each other?
HUNTING (PAVAD) Page 13
