by J. M. Madden
But he’d let her stay down there. If she was more comfortable than that was the main thing. Even though it left him rambling around in the upper house, more lonely than ever.
He looked at Cheyenne. She gave him a small smile. “I can tell having teenagers is going to be fun.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Okay. Keep telling yourself that.”
He ate his pizza and tried not to be put out that Olivia hadn’t joined them.
Cheyenne felt terrible. It was obvious that Olivia had felt misplaced in her own home, and that was the last thing Cheyenne wanted.
After they ate, Sheridan excused himself to go make a phone call in his office. Cheyenne took the time to put a few slices of pizza on a plate and walk down the stairs. She hadn’t been down here before, but the layout was pretty open, like the upstairs. There was a bathroom on the right and an entertainment area on the left. An expansive projection screen covered most of the pale wall, with several recliners arranged in front of it. There was a little kitchenette snugged into one corner, obviously for snacks. On the back wall was another doorway, closed tight.
Cheyenne headed that way.
She could hear murmuring behind the door, like Olivia was on the phone. She hated to interrupt her, but the pizza was already cooling.
Cheyenne knocked firmly.
“Go away, Dad. I’m working.”
“It’s not your dad.”
Cheyenne heard rustling beyond the panel before it opened a crack. Olivia’s thick walnut colored hair, the exact shade as her father’s, hung down in a long, sleek curtain. Her hazel eyes were narrowed. “Yes?”
Cheyenne held the plate of food out temptingly. “Brought you some dinner.”
Olivia stared at her for a long moment before widening the door crack a little more and reaching for the plate. Beyond her shoulder Cheyenne could see typical girl bedroom clutter, clothes scattered everywhere, a cell phone waiting for her to return, screen lit. Obviously she’d been talking to someone.
“I didn’t bring you anything to drink, sorry.”
“I’ve got something,” the girl said quietly, looking at the pizza.
“I want to apologize.”
Her eyes flicked up in surprise. “Why?”
“Well, we’ve kind of invaded your home. I know your dad invited us, but it’s still probably hard to see us up there like that, eating your food, around your table, petting your dog.”
The girl’s mouth curled. “Whatever.”
Cheyenne didn’t know where to proceed.
“We won’t be here any longer than we have to, okay?”
Olivia shrugged and backed into the room, closing the door in Cheyenne’s face.
With a sigh, Cheyenne turned away, vowing that she would teach her girls to react to situations better.
Olivia waited at the door until she heard the woman leave, then slipped out to the main room. There was a small fridge in the kitchenette. She retrieved a bottle of water and returned to her bedroom. She picked up the phone and pressed it to her ear as she cracked open the bottle. “I’m back.”
“Who was that?” Hannah asked.
Olivia sighed. How to explain it?
“It’s Ms. Lowell from school.”
“Wait,” Hannah interrupted. “In your house? At your door? Is your dad dating her?”
“No,” Olivia snapped, horrified. “Apparently her ex-husband was in prison and now he’s out but he might be after her so Dad moved her and her three daughters in here so they’d be safe.”
“Oh, okay. Freaked me out for a minute there. I mean, if they’re just there for a little while it won’t be bad, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Olivia murmured, taking a swig of water. “It was just weird, though, because I walked in and they were all eating pizza around my mom’s table like they were a family.”
“No, way,” Hannah hissed.
Olivia could imagine the expression on Hannah’s face. Her big gray eyes would be super open and she would be shaking her head.
“That doesn’t seem right,” she finished.
Olivia sighed. No, it didn’t. She was glad she wasn’t the only one to think it was odd.
She looked at the pizza. Maybe she wouldn’t eat it. She’d just leave it on the plate on the counter upstairs.
Her tummy rumbled. No, that was stupid, she decided. Good pizza shouldn’t go to waste.
“Sounds like the set-up for Parent Trap. Remember that movie? Lindsay Lohan was the redhead. That was back before all her llama-drama. But you’ve got four of them to deal with,” Hannah snickered. “Red-heads, I mean, not llamas.”
Olivia tried to swallow the huge bite of pizza in her mouth. “Is that the one where the kids tried to get the parents together? My dad’s too smart for that.”
“Well, you never know. Maybe their mom and your dad can get together and you can all live together happily ever after.”
“Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen.”
After Olivia hung up from Hannah, thoughts of what she’d said started to worry her. Dad had had the hots for Ms. Lowell for a while, now, so the two of them hooking up wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Olivia hadn’t had Ms. Lowell as a teacher, but the kids in school had loved her, and it was obvious her daughters loved her. They hung on her and touched her a lot.
It made Olivia miss her mom. The three of them had been great together. They’d travelled as much as they could and done cool things, and they’d talked about everything.
Her dad used to have this amazing laugh. Big and deep, and hearing it made you smile. It had been a while since she’d heard it.
She’d have to play it by ear. This wasn’t a happy ever after scenario, like Hannah hoped, but if it made her dad happy for a while she’d be okay with it too.
Chapter 7
Sheridan waited until he’d closed his office door behind him before he called Marlene. She answered on the first ring.
“Hey, your text said urgent. What’s up?”
“Oh, Sheridan, you aren’t going to believe this. Jeannette’s granddaughter is a waitress over at that swamp water joint where Brock got himself in trouble a few weeks ago.”
“Spurs?”
“Yes. Anyway, a guy came in there today saying that he was going to be getting his wife back and getting his life back on track. She wouldn’t have even taken notice but he was drinking soda pop. When she said it wasn’t much of a celebration he said he couldn’t drink because he just got out of prison.”
Sheridan glowered. “Did she give you a description?”
“Tall. Six two, brown hair, brown eyes. Sloppy jail tattoo on his left neck.”
“Okay. That’s good to know. Thanks, Marlene.”
“But there’s more.”
She dragged in a heavy breath and he could totally envision the satisfaction she had in her eyes as she revealed what she and her Naughty Book Club members had learned.
“Thomas, Josiah Applegate’s grandson, was complaining to his grandfather about a new guy he’d hired at the feed store. Wasn’t sure if he was going to work out or not. The guy had no money because he’d just gotten out of jail so Thomas helped him out a little, gave him a few bucks. Then the guy disappeared.”
Sheridan’s jaw clenched. Maybe that would give him a place to start looking tomorrow.
“Okay, good job Marlene. Anything else?”
“No, dear. But if I hear anything you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you. See you in the morning.”
“See you, Sheriff.”
Sheridan rocked back in his chair, hands behind his head, as he thought about what he had learned. Wade had never been the sharpest tool in the box, but for some reason not showing up for a job he had been offered seemed especially stupid. Almost as if it were made to draw attention. And the same with the situation in the bar.
Shaking his head, he scrolled through the contacts on his phone, looking for Cheyenne’s brother’s number. Brock answered
on the third ring, and seemed a little out of breath.
“What?”
“Brock, this is Sheridan. Is this a bad time?”
He heard rustling in the background, and he thought perhaps a feminine snort, but he couldn’t be sure. Taking a chance, he said, “Tell Payton I’m sorry I interrupted.”
Brock chuckled darkly. “She heard you and says not to worry about it. What’s going on Sheridan?”
“Well, thought you needed to know that Wade was let out of prison a few days ago, and seems to have decided to come back to Honeywell.”
Brock cursed a blue streak. “Cheyenne?”
“She’s fine. She’s actually here with me right now, in my house. There were indications that someone had checked out her place, so rather than take a chance I brought her out here. She didn’t want to upset your parents. That’s why I’m calling you. I need you to keep a lookout on the Blue Star.”
“Hell, yes, I will. You know that.”
“But I want you to call me if he shows up,” Sheridan warned. “No taking the issue into your own hands, Brock. I’m serious about this.”
“I don’t know if I can agree to that, Sheridan. If he comes out here looking for trouble I’ll be more than happy to give it to him.”
Sheridan knew that he wasn’t going to get much of a promise from Brock, so he moved on. “I’ll be running her and the kids back and forth to summer school until it’s done next week. Hopefully by then we’ll have tracked him down and gotten him under control.”
“What the hell, man? Why did he have to come back here?”
“Well, his family is here. And to play Devil’s advocate, there is a small chance he wants to connect with the girls.”
Brock snorted on the other end of the line. “I seriously doubt that. I don’t think she’s heard anything from him in the entire time he’s been away, other than when he signed the divorce papers and sent them back to her.”
Sheridan heard murmuring on Brock’s end. He must be filling Payton in on what was going on.
“Well, I just wanted to give you a heads up. She doesn’t want your parents involved at all, if possible. So, maybe you can keep a lookout. Also, we took the dog but her horses and chickens still need care.”
“I can send someone over for them. And I’ll let some of the men know what’s going on. I have a few former military guys working here now that would probably love a little something more juicy than building fence and moving cattle.”
Sheridan laughed. He had a few men like that as well, but they had more to deal with day to day than ranch hands.
“If you come across anything let me know, Brock.”
“Will do.”
Brock could be a bit of a hothead, but he had a good head on his shoulders. If anything went down on his ranch, he would definitely know about it, and he would protect his parents with his dying breath.
Sheridan went to bed that night feeling a little more on top of things. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find Wade Shipton.
Chapter 8
The girls did just as she’d expected them to, they’d all crowded into one bed. It would have been a pretty cute picture if she dared get her phone out. The two bigger girls were on the outside, and it looked like Grace had just wedged herself between them.
Cheyenne herself had been restless all night. The bed was fine and the room was fine. She just couldn’t settle.
Wonder if Sheridan has tea…
Before they’d gone to bed he’d reiterated to them several times that they were to help themselves to anything in the house and kitchen.
Cheyenne stuck her head out into the hallway, but it was quiet. Pulling her t-shirt down, she debated whether or not to go out. She’d forgotten her sleep pants. She couldn’t sleep in them because they restricted her movement in the bed, but she wore them a lot because they were so comfortable. They were a staple in her wardrobe. But somehow she’d walked out without packing a single pair in her bag.
There was no one out there to see her. Heck, even the dogs were outside.
Padding down the hallway, she tried to remember the layout of the living room. Someone had left a couple of small nightlights burning so she had enough light to make her way to the dark kitchen. She blinked, straining to see, but for some reason there was no nightlight in this room. Resting her hand on the marble island she began to circle toward the far entrance, where the light switches were. There was a rustling to her right and she let out a squeal of terror just before she bumped into a hard, warm, wall.
“Sheridan?” she hissed.
A light switch flipped and he was revealed, in all his mouthwatering glory. Oh, fudge, why did he have to look so good?
He’d forgone sleep pants as well, only wearing tight black boxer briefs and a soft blue t-shirt that molded to his upper chest. Cheyenne snatched her hand away from his chest and curled it against her breasts, then tugged her own t-shirt down as far as she could over her hips.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t think anyone was up.”
Sheridan’s broad jaw started working, and she realized that that had been what she’d heard a few seconds ago. Him chewing something hard. She looked at the island and the family size package of Oreos, the tray half empty, and felt a smile spread her lips. “Really? You’re raiding the cookies in the middle of the night?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders sheepishly, mouth still too full to speak.
Cheyenne laughed, loving that she’d caught the big, self-contained man in something so innocently naughty and childlike.
He held the tray out to her and offered her a cookie. Cheyenne generally didn’t like the too-sweet cookies, but she took one anyway. Then, twisting the two halves apart, she licked the white icing, just like she’d done since she was a kid.
Sheridan stilled, his gaze latching onto her tongue. A warm wash of heat rolled through her, suddenly reminding her of things better forgotten. That was awareness she could see in his expression. Awareness of male and female things that she’d tried to tamp down for the past several years.
He turned away abruptly, moving to the fridge to pour a tall glass of milk, then he moved around the corner of the island. He drank half the glass down, then grinned at her, his face polite. That awareness was gone and she wondered what had happened.
“You caught me. This is my dirty little secret.” He dragged the package closer and took a couple more cookies, shoving one into his mouth.
Cheyenne laughed lightly. “I guess you could have worse habits,” she told him softly. “Although it’s probably not healthy to do in the middle of the night. Do you do this every night?”
His shoulders moved in a shrug. “Maybe,” he garbled.
Cheyenne laughed and snagged herself a second cookie. “Better be careful,” she warned. “These are going to be bad for that manly figure of yours.”
Sheridan flexed his bicep for her, and Cheyenne almost drooled. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest as she looked at the massive, veined muscle. It was the size of her calf! Bigger!
“Okay,” she conceded. “You’re still strong. But these cookies will go to your belly.”
Sheridan gave her a long look, like he knew she wanted to see his stomach. Then, pulling up the hem of his t-shirt a couple of inches, he allowed her to see the cobbled landscape of his abdomen, and the thin like of brown hair in the center heading south. Cheyenne jerked her eyes away, her breath suddenly tight in her throat. But she tried to play it off.
“I don’t know,” she teased. “I think I see a bit of a paunch, there.”
Sheridan’s green eyes glittered in the light from the island pendant and he fought a smile. “Yeah, okay. If you say so.”
They both started laughing and he handed her another cookie. Cheyenne stuffed her mouth before she said anything more incriminating. It also gave her eyes something to focus on.
His abs had been perfection, and she wondered what he did to take care of himself. Obviously fighting with criminals all th
e time kept him strong.
Reality hit her hard then. The only reason she was in his house was because of another criminal, her ex. She had no business even considering anything more than taking care of her kids and getting their lives back in order.
“I better get back to bed,” she said softly.
“Okay. Sleep good, Cheyenne.”
Sheridan really tried not to watch her walk away, but it was a Herculean task. The t-shirt she wore barely reached the top of her thighs, and she’d kept tugging it down, tightening the fabric over her breasts. And now, as she slipped away from the ring of light, he glanced up for a last look.
Lean thighs led up to the swell of butt cheeks peeking from beneath the hem of the T. He could just see the edge of dark purple underwear before she slipped into darkness.
His mind tormented him with what he thought the rest of her looked like. Cheyenne was athletic, long-legged. He knew she’d had an active childhood helping out on the ranch, and he knew she still worked there occasionally. After Garrett had had his heart attack and broken his arm, he’d seen Cheyenne’s silver Jeep Grand Cherokee over at the Blue Star as much as anywhere else.
He’d also seen her at the little Pilates shop that had opened up at the edge of town. With three girls, he didn’t know how she found the time to do anything for herself, but he was glad she did. If Pilates made her happy and kept her in shape, he was all for it.
He wondered if she’d been dating anyone recently. Of course, if she had been, Marlene probably would have let him know the minute it had happened. For some reason Marlene thought he and Cheyenne needed to be together.
If he was honest with himself, though, he would admit that he thought so too. It was just … getting past their history and moving ahead. Tonight Cheyenne had been aware of him. That much had been obvious. He looked down at his dick, which had been at attention since she’d entered the kitchen. Hopefully she hadn’t even noticed how much she’d turned him on by licking that cookie. To make sure, he’d slipped around the edge of the island to shield himself from her gaze.
