A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Barrett, Linda

  Heather glanced at Dave who looked stunned. His head moved from one parent to the other and back again as though he were at Wimbledon.

  “What’s…what’s going on here?” he asked.

  “Lunch!” responded Heather, taking his hand. “Let’s go get the food.” She pulled him with her, Kathy joining them.

  “Are you sure they’re divorced?” she joked when they were out of earshot.

  “Whew!” said Kathy. “I could feel the heat, and I don’t even know them.”

  “What the hell was that all about?” Dave opened his mother’s car and released the trunk lock. He walked to the back and peered inside. “Good Lord. She’s brought enough food for a month.”

  “Food is how she thinks she can help,” said Kathy. “You don’t have to be a genius to see that she wants to jump into this project with you and your dad, Officer McCoy.”

  “Call me Dave.”

  “Okay, Dave.”

  But Dave seemed to be somewhere else. He looked back at his folks. “They’re sleeping together.”

  “Which isn’t against the law,” said Heather with a grin.

  But Dave wasn’t smiling. Instead, he seemed disturbed. “They pulled me apart when I was a kid. The arguing never let up. Dad giving orders, and Mom telling him to shove it. Then I bounced from one house to the other, always worrying about the one who was alone…and now they blithely fall into bed with each other as though nothing had ever happened? What kind of a joke is that?”

  Heather reached for his arm and squeezed gently. “Divorce is never a joke to anyone involved. Not to the parents, and especially not to the children. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision for them.”

  She felt his muscles lock, thought he was going to pull away. But his other arm came up around her, as tense as the first.

  “Look how they’re walking next to each other,” he said. “So naturally, so in step. If it weren’t for having a kid, they’d never have split up.”

  “So now you think it’s your fault?” She placed her palm gently against his cheek. “Look at me, Dave. Children always think family problems are their fault, but they never are. Adults are the ones with the power to make decisions.”

  “Try telling that to a twelve-year-old who loves them both.”

  “But you’re not twelve years old anymore,” Kathy said.

  “True.” He glanced toward his parents again. “It’s weird how the past can catch up and surprise us. Like a familiar jacket that doesn’t fit anymore.”

  “You’re right,” said Kathy. “An unwelcome memory.” She reached for a box of sandwiches, then glanced at Heather, a worried expression on her face. “Remember that other news I had to tell you? The bad news?”

  Heather’s stomach rolled. “Oh, God. What? Has George bought the house next door to us?”

  Kathy’s startled expression was enough of a clue. Heather almost didn’t need the details. “Not quite. He and Mama are coming to visit. Next weekend.”

  Heather’s hands continued to unload packages from Anne’s car, but she moved like a robot.

  “Heather? Honey? Did you hear me?” Kathy’s voice seemed to come from far away.

  “I wasn’t expecting them before the wedding,” Heather finally said. “I would have been prepared by then.” Her brain began to shift into gear. “Okay, Kathy. Not a problem. They’ll take my room. I’ll stay at Welcome Home.” She slammed the trunk shut. “And God help you when you introduce them to Mark’s parents.”

  “They have no power over Mark and me,” replied Kathy. “But they sure seem to have power over you. Is ten years not long enough? Can’t you move on?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HEATHER GLANCED at the calendar in her office. Thursday. She and Kathy had barely spoken since Saturday, and the silence haunted her.

  The intercom on her desk buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Lisa Connors was in the reception area, right on time for her three o’clock appointment. Earlier that week, she’d been somewhat surprised to hear from her, but more surprised by Lisa’s news that Eve was pregnant. She and Larry were thrilled, and the good news was the tipping point for Lisa’s decision. She’d be relocating to Houston and wanted to chat about possible jobs.

  She greeted Eve Hannity’s sister with warmth and curiosity. “Will your sister be leaving the force?” asked Heather after they were back in her office.

  “Are you kidding?” replied Lisa. “Eve loves her job and, from what I hear, she’s top-notch.”

  Heather nodded, but didn’t comment.

  “So a temporary leave of absence is more like it. My sister’s got the energy of a tornado. One little baby won’t hold her back.”

  “Babies require a lot of work, though,” said Heather. “They can exhaust you.”

  “Don’t I know it. At Children’s Protective Services, it’s hard to overlook.” She leaned forward confidentially. “I think this baby can use an auntie nearby. Eve’s my only sister—my only sibling. And Larry’s family lives in Colorado.”

  And Kathy was Heather’s only sibling. She and Mark would probably have children one day, too. But Heather wouldn’t be needed as much. Not with Mark’s large family in Houston. A profound sense of loss filled her. Regret. If she and Kathy continued not to speak, how would she grow close to nieces and nephews? The current situation had to be rectified.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment, Lisa?”

  Heather stepped across the hall. Kathy looked up from her desk. “Could we meet later, just to talk?” asked Heather. She checked her watch. “How about over supper about six?”

  But Kathy shook her head. “I have an errand. Eight o’clock at the house would be better.”

  Heather nodded. “See you later.” She returned to her office and to Lisa Connors.

  “So, tell me about your background and what you’re looking for.” Heather sat back to listen and ask questions. And then she said, “Let me tell you about Girlfriends.” By the time she finished, she had another volunteer to ride in the brand-new van with her the following Monday. If references checked out, she possibly had her first hire for the teen shelter. A satisfying afternoon.

  Heather ended her day when hunger pangs drove her from the office. She left the building, and there was McCoy, waving a bag from Jason’s Deli at her. She covered ground in double time.

  “How do you manage to know my schedule every day?” she asked, reaching for half a pastrami sandwich. “Mmm. Delicious.”

  He chuckled. “You’re too easy, kiddo.”

  Heather leaned against his car, sandwich in one hand, soda in the other. “So tell me the secret. How do you know when I’m leaving when I don’t even know until the last minute sometimes?”

  “I’ve got clout. Plus insider info.”

  Her eyes widened. “Who’s the mole?”

  “The mole?” He cracked up. “Just a simple informer…and I can’t tell. Might put me in danger,” he whispered.

  She grinned. Recently, having an escort wasn’t a bad idea. “I never thought I’d say it, or rather, need to say it, but thanks. I’m much better, though. No more panicking. I went to a two-hour kickboxing class Monday night. Sweated my butt off, but the class worked wonders. Helped get my confidence back.”

  “But—”

  She held up her hand. “I know. I know. Guns. Knives. I understand. I can use my head, too.”

  His eyes lit with…pride? And his voice was husky when he said, “If I weren’t on duty, I’d kiss you…and hold you…. You’re like no other woman I’ve known.”

  He couldn’t be lying, not with the life she’d led. “A lot weirder than all the others, huh?”

  His smile grew, jacking up her heart rate. “Not weirder. Just…more interesting. And a lot cuter.” He tapped her nose.

  She didn’t have a lot of practice in flirting. Was he simply flirting? He seemed so sincere. When in doubt, shut up. Heather opted to finish her meal in silence.

  “It’s almost dark,” said Dave. “Come on. I’ll fol
low you home.”

  “I’m okay. You don’t have to—”

  “I want to. You’re in my territory. And so far, it’s been a quiet night.”

  She glanced toward the front seat of the patrol car. The radio had been on constantly, emitting information that didn’t seem to concern McCoy. She shrugged. “Okay, I’ll get my car.”

  “Just a sec. I almost forgot to tell you…” The timbre of his voice had changed. He was back in cop mode and examining her closely.

  “What?”

  “There’s been buzz all over the department—and Heather, I mean throughout the city—about this cop’s wife and kids who went missing. The guy’s frantic.”

  Two could play this game. She adopted a blank stare, looked him straight in the eye while she lied without remorse. “His problems have nothing to do with me or Welcome Home.”

  He studied her, his expression calculating. “I mentioned this case once before and have my own opinion.”

  She began to protest, but he waved her to be quiet. “If—and I say if—she does show up with the children, you might need help.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” If Dave thought she’d trust the boys in blue with the fragile lives of three injured people, he needed to think again. But she chose to be polite and not insult the department. “Thanks again for the dinner. It hit the spot.” She began walking toward her car.

  “Hang on,” he called after her. When she turned, he handed her his business card. “You can call the station house directly, and my cell number is on the back.” And then, as if he couldn’t resist, he brushed her cheek very gently. “Take care of yourself.”

  She saw him in her rearview mirror until she pulled into her driveway behind Kathy’s car. He waited for her to get out and open her front door. After she’d waved at him, he finally took off. She wasn’t used to anyone looking after her. It felt strange…a nice kind of strange.

  HEATHER CLOSED THE DOOR behind her and took a few steps down the center hall toward the kitchen. “Kathy,” she called. “I’m home.” And that’s when she heard several voices. She recognized Kathy, but she couldn’t quite place the other two. She took another step. And then Kathy was there, excited, and reaching for her hand.

  “Come on in, Heather. Look who’s here a day early.”

  Heather paused in the kitchen entry and looked at the startling tableau. At the table, drinking coffee and eating apple pie, sat George and Jolene, laughing and acting as though they didn’t have a trouble in the world. As though they belonged in her home. Their faces were thinner, but they looked healthy enough. George still had thick sandy hair, but alcohol had left reddish-purple veins around his nose. They both looked up at her, eager.

  “Well, well,” said Heather, staying where she was. “Just look what the west wind blew into town.” She shifted her stance and stared at her sister, wondering how Kathy could pull such a fast one on her. “A little warning would have been appreciated.”

  Kathy flinched. “It was important that we all get together before the wedding.” She shrugged. “They just came earlier than planned.”

  “Enjoy yourselves.”

  Heather walked to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. How often had she wished for strong locks when she was a child? She packed her overnight bag and retraced her steps.

  Her mother stood in the hallway now, her blue eyes clear but as faded as the checked blouse she wore. Her skin was sun darkened, the crow’s feet around her eyes well defined. She rubbed her hands with quick movements. “Heather… Heather. Please. Let me look at you. You’re so beautiful. Oh, it’s been a long time.” She raised her arms toward her daughter.

  Heather stepped around her. “Kathy will get you some clean linen. You’ll be comfortable—and safe—in there.” She nodded at the bedroom.

  Jolene looked stricken, and she let her arms fall to her sides. “But Heather, he’s not like that anymore. We don’t drink anymore. We’re in recovery.”

  Heather paused and looked back at her mother. “Good for you, Jolene. Did you finally decide that black-and-blue wasn’t such a pretty color after all?”

  The sound of the woman’s sobs followed Heather out the door. Once at her car, she threw her bag in the backseat.

  “Proud of yourself?” Kathy had come after her, her voice full of accusation. “She has about as many defenses as a newborn baby.”

  “Proud of yourself, Kathy? Blindsiding me like that? Did you think I’d welcome them with open arms, and that we’d all kiss and make up?” She’d kept her voice down on purpose, but her throat hurt from the effort.

  “You knew they were coming this weekend,” said Kathy. “At the last minute, they changed their plans and took an earlier flight.”

  “And you didn’t think that was important enough to tell me?”

  “I think it’s important that you make peace with them,” replied Kathy.

  “You’ve got that backward. They need to make peace with me! And with you.” Kathy simply didn’t get it. “We were children. We were the victims. And I had five extra years alone with them. Five long years. Yes, I’ve moved on with my life. But I can’t pretend those years didn’t happen. I don’t want peace at any price. You shouldn’t, either.”

  Tonight, she needed a sanctuary.

  KATHY’S PHONE CALL the next morning came as no surprise to Heather. She was taking their parents shopping, to get Dad measured for his tuxedo, and a dress for Mom.

  “Make sure their charge card hasn’t been revoked,” said Heather.

  “Would you give me a break?”

  Heather chuckled.

  “The four of us are having dinner together tonight. I insist, Heather. I plan to grill steaks on the patio. It’ll be more relaxing than at a restaurant.”

  And less chance of a public scene. “Okay,” Heather said. “Not that I care about relaxing, but I’ll be able to do some behavioral research before the wedding so I can help guarantee you a perfect day.”

  “They’re fine, Heather. I really think you’ll be happily surprised. I know I am. They’re acting like normal people.”

  “Sure they are, Kath. Are you going to bring Mark around, take the chance?”

  “As a matter of fact,” replied Kathy slowly, “we’re meeting Mark’s parents for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Heather could say nothing for a moment. “I’ll come, too. You might need me.”

  “No! I—I mean, not ‘no.’ Of course you’re welcome, but not for that reason. These are my parents. I can’t pretend otherwise. And I won’t live a lie. They’ll be who they are, and that’s that.”

  “As long as they’re not falling down drunk. But better now than at the wedding,” said Heather as she hung up. And better tonight than at the dinner tomorrow.

  She glanced at the clock and stood up. The newcomers group would be waiting.

  AS HEATHER WALKED into the informal room, Mary Beth was holding up her journal and talking.

  “This is working so well for me. It’s become more than just a record of my life here. I’m starting to write down the comparison to how I lived at home. Or should I say, prison? Sometimes, there’s so much to talk about…look…I’m running out of paper.”

  “It’ll never happen,” said Heather lightly, joining the group. “We’ll give you as many notebooks as you need.”

  The woman turned to her, her face pinking up. “Sorry.” She sat right down.

  “Don’t be sorry, Mary Beth. We’re here for each other.” The group had grown to six. None of the newcomers’ abusers came from law enforcement; they might not understand Mary Beth’s position.

  The newer participants were quiet, simply watching. Mary Beth hadn’t gotten to know them yet, but she seemed to be blossoming today.

  “Writing in a notebook is a wonderful way to release your emotions. A way to set the record straight.” Heather raised her eyes to Mary Beth. “But just as helpful or even better than writing your thoughts down is sharing with other people who’ve been in similar situ
ations. Are you ready, Mary Beth, to tell us more about Hank? And about your life?”

  Heather didn’t know what to expect. The flow of recovery often ran upstream, then down. But Mary Beth had come a long way since she’d been at the shelter.

  The woman stood up again and started to pace. “All right. I’ll tell you—I’ll even show you what it was like to live with a bad cop.” She looked at Heather. “I’ll be Hank, and you pretend to be me.” She flashed a grin, which disappeared just as quickly. “Believe me, you won’t have to say much. Here, sit in this chair.” She moved a chair so it was by itself, and all the women could see it.

  Heather sat down immediately, very encouraged. Role-playing was a powerful tool, and Mary Beth didn’t seem afraid to use it.

  First, Mary Beth turned her back to the group, but Heather could see her posture change. The woman squared her shoulders. When she faced them again, her eyes were wild, her expression mean and intimidating. She wasn’t Mary Beth anymore. She’d transformed herself into Hank Landers. She raised her fist and poured her venom on Heather.

  “I’m not going to argue with you….” Her low roar carried a true threat, and Heather felt a jolt run through her.

  “Don’t make me do this, Mary Beth. When will you learn to listen to me?” “Hank” shook his fist in Heather’s face and leaned over her.

  “You idiot! You think you can file charges? Who do you think the cops will believe? Me! They’ll believe me. I’ll win no matter what it takes.”

  “No you won’t,” Heather whispered. “I’m stronger than you. Stronger minded.”

  “That’s a joke.” Mary Beth, as Hank, straightened up and swaggered, both hands fisted on her hips. “You have no mind. You’re just a whining bitch. So let me tell it to you straight. We don’t have a problem. You have a problem. So you go to counseling. You’re the one who’s sick.”

  Heather interjected, “And I suppose you’ll also tell me how I’ve got it made. Other cops cheat on their wives, drink, do drugs. I’m so lucky to have you.” She injected as much sarcasm as she dared without acting too powerful.