A Man of Honor (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Barrett, Linda

  Heather felt heat travel from her toes to her scalp in a nanosecond. What just happened? What part of baseball was a Kiss Cam?

  But Dave was grinning. He looked…happy. Carefree. And so incredibly handsome.

  “Your face!” he exclaimed. “It’s priceless.”

  The people near them were still waving and applauding. So, Heather waved back. Dave did too, before reaching into his pocket.

  “Cell phone,” he explained as they sat down again.

  “McCoy here. Yeah, Dad. I know. You saw everything, just like you were there. Gotta go.” He glanced at Heather as he hung up and shrugged. “Dad. He was watching the game.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Who else…?”

  He reached into his pocket again. “Yorkie. Yes, I’m with Heather. And no, she doesn’t need protection from me, but you might!” He disconnected. “For crying out loud,” he murmured. And the mobile vibrated again. “If it’s Powers or Jazzman… Oh, Kathy. She’s right here.” He winked. “Your turn.”

  But it was Mark’s voice she heard. “Are you okay, Heather? I’ll talk to him if he’s coming on too strong.”

  “No, no, Mark. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? That was some picture! Put McCoy on the line.” She handed the phone over and shrugged. “He wants you.”

  After a moment Dave said, “Don’t be an ass. I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head.” Then Dave turned to Heather. “I’m shutting it off.”

  “Great idea.”

  “But you know that don’t you?” His brow furrowed as he spoke. “What I said to Warner? I’d never hurt you.” He stroked her cheek so gently that she raised her hand and pressed her palm to his.

  She wanted to say, yes. That she trusted him with her life. With all her heart, she wanted to say, yes. But she couldn’t. So, something was definitely wrong with her. Something that would prevent her from experiencing the happiness Kathy shared with Mark.

  The crowd’s attention was back on the field. “New inning’s starting,” she said. But she let her hand remain in his and hoped he didn’t realize she’d avoided his question.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PATIENCE. He simply needed more patience. Dave entered the Briefing Room almost a week after his baseball date with Heather, the woman constantly on his mind. He’d win her trust. In the end, he’d win. Until then, patience. He’d bet his career she already trusted him. Maybe she just didn’t know it.

  The truth was, he trusted her, too. Except when her judgment was clouded by her concern for the kids.

  He went through his usual routine, glanced at the bulletin board, grabbed a chair and made small talk with his buddies. Yorkie hadn’t shown up when the sergeant started roll call. Very unusual, and he hoped nothing was wrong.

  Five minutes later, he had his answer. Eve would be out for a couple of days, and would probably be assigned to light duty when she returned. The sergeant looked at Dave. “You’re on your own tonight. Powers, Jazzman—I want you to check in with him periodically. I’m working on a new schedule. McCoy, you’ll have a partner in a day or two.”

  “Not necessary, sir. Wasn’t Eve assigned to assist temporarily? Now that we’ve arrested the fourth perp, and the citizen is out of danger, I can handle it alone again.”

  “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask.” Dave wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “First announcement: reminder of the M.P. filed by one of our own. Officer Hank Landers’s wife and two children have now been missing for four weeks and two days. And we’ve got nothing. People don’t disappear into thin air.”

  Unless they want to. Dave looked around the room. A couple of glances were exchanged, a cough or two. Some cops stared at the ground. Did they have suspicions about Landers, or were they thinking about their own wives? Mac had a quick temper. Fielding drank too much. Those two were on their way to being Hank Landers clones. He hoped the department would step in before the worst happened. Maybe psychological and social services should be required to intervene at the first sign of a problem. Better yet, maybe a routine annual family session should be mandated.

  At the end of the session, he made a note to call Eve the first chance he had. Her presence on his beat had eased his mind because of Heather. But that emergency was over. Now, he’d be back to his usual routines, which meant he couldn’t cruise past Welcome Home as often as he’d like or past Girlfriends, either. At least, he’d put his dad on Heather’s tail…no, today was Thursday, and Thursday wasn’t an outreach night. Good. No worries there. He got into his assigned vehicle and began his patrol.

  HEATHER STARED OUT her office window. She’d become such a daydreamer, she barely recognized herself. She couldn’t stop thinking about Dave since the baseball game.

  Everyone she knew had teased her about “the kiss” on the big screen, and it would have been hard to forget about Dave even if she’d wanted to. That kiss had been good, but their kisses…and more…later that night had been better. And left her wanting even more.

  “Heath-er.” Kathy’s voice buzzed in the background. “It’s Kathy calling Heath-er. Come in, Heather.”

  Heather swiveled in her chair and saw her sister in the doorway, her hands cupped around her mouth like a megaphone.

  “You’re in another world these days, kiddo. Something on your mind? Or is it someone?” asked Kathy with a knowing grin.

  Heather felt her face burn, annoyed with her fair complexion. Embarrassment was so obvious.

  Kathy laughed softly. “Oh. This is great.”

  “Go home, Kath.” Heather motioned toward the exit. “I’m stopping at Girlfriends first.”

  Kathy shook her head. “Can’t stay away even for a day, can you?”

  “Thanks to Mark, everything’s happening fast now, and I love to see the progress. The old appliances are out and at a secondhand store on consignment, and we’re getting a professional six-burner stove for the redesigned kitchen.”

  Her sister waited a beat. “But this place won’t be the same. I can’t imagine Welcome Home without you.”

  “I’m not far away.”

  Kathy shook her head. “You know as well as I do that Girlfriends will take all your time, especially once the kids come.”

  Heather wouldn’t insult her sister by denying it. “We have two interviews scheduled next week. We’ll find someone to replace me.”

  “As if. There is no one else like you.” Kathy paused again, then continued with forced levity. “Now get ready for this… Guess who asked me about administrative positions here?”

  “No clue.”

  “Anne McCoy.”

  “Dave’s mom?” Heather was speechless for a moment. “What’s up with that? She earns lots of money at that construction company. I don’t get it.”

  “She said she wants something more. Different. A job working directly with people—where she feels she’s making a difference.”

  “So, what did you tell her?”

  “The truth. We have no openings here now. But I took her résumé anyway.”

  “I sure hope she doesn’t ask me about Girlfriends. I’ll need top-notch administrative help, but… Uh-uh.”

  Kathy was shaking her head. “She won’t. She’s too smart for that. Too smart to meddle with her son’s happiness.” Kathy seemed to be carefully choosing her words. “You do realize he’s crazy about you, Heather. You’re the only person in the room to him. And that’s love, honey.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and left.

  “But, I’m afraid,” Heather whispered, looking at the empty doorway.

  She wanted the impossible. And no one could give it to her, not even her sister. There were no guarantees in life.

  And then she started daydreaming about Dave again until she found herself parked at Girlfriends.

  It was after five, and the construction team was getting ready to leave. One of the men gave her a quick walk-through, showing her where space had been opened up and new
walls erected.

  “But hold off on the painting,” said the carpenter. “We’re still working downstairs and the dust goes everywhere.”

  She’d postpone the volunteer painters, but maybe she’d contact Dave’s mother about choosing colors. Anne seemed interested in that kind of stuff.

  Dusk fell earlier at this time of year, and she let the men leave, with her thanks. The project was coming together. Her instincts were just fine in the work area of her life.

  She locked the front door and walked toward her car just as another sedan rounded the corner, a single flashing light on top. Dave? It wasn’t his usual vehicle.

  She recognized Hank Landers instantly. In full uniform this time, probably coming directly from work. She didn’t have to wonder what he wanted. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes on him as he walked toward her.

  The cop glanced toward the building. “This shelter is coming along. And when it’s done, you’ll have two places to hide people.”

  “That’s right,” she said quietly.

  His mouth tightened in anger. “You’re playing games with the wrong person, Ms. Marshall. I’m a bloodhound. I follow up until I get what I want.”

  Her thoughts raced. Landers had learned about Welcome Home. No doubt about that. He was as tall as Dave, but heavier. With her training, she could handle him. Except…he carried a gun. Would he use it? And where was Dave? He usually showed up when she needed him. Somehow he always knew.

  But the street was quiet now, and she was on her own.

  “What I want to know,” said the cop, “is if my wife and kids are at your other place. Because, God damn it! I’ve been looking for over a month and this is my best lead!” His face had turned bright red and Heather could hear his raspy breathing.

  She said nothing.

  “I’ve got friends—friends on the force, even on the west side—who hate do-gooders like you. I know you’re running the biggest safe house in the area. Now, are you going to take me to Mary Beth or do I have to tear the place down?” His low roar seemed to shake the live oaks. The man was losing whatever control he had when, in fact, he didn’t know for sure his wife was at Welcome Home.

  “Tearing the place down isn’t necessary, Officer Landers,” said Heather. “Come on, let’s—”

  “I knew you’d see reason,” he interrupted, a victorious grin on his face. “Let’s go to the shelter.” He stepped toward his vehicle.

  Heather chuckled as though the guy were amusing. “I was going to say, let’s take a walk.”

  He reversed direction, his eyes conveying his excitement. She wanted to throw up.

  She headed in the direction of her own car at a relaxed pace. He was ten feet behind her. “You’re a lawman who thinks his wife ran to a shelter,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You must be aware that ignoring a restraining order might jeopardize your job.” She pitched her voice low, tried to sound as if she cared.

  “Restraining order? How’d you know about that?” He cut the distance between them in half.

  “Oh, come on, Hank. We see copies of them all the time. It’s standard procedure, isn’t it…in these situations?” And Mary Beth’s copy was tucked safely in her plastic bag with all her other documents.

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong,” replied the cop. “Nothing’s standard procedure with us. Do you think a little piece of paper like that means anything to me? I am the law. And I want my wife. And you’re going to take me to her. Right now.”

  He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Let go of me,” she commanded in a low voice.

  Surprisingly, he did. She searched in her purse for her car keys, pressed the remote and heard the locks open. “I can’t take you to her,” she said, “even if I wanted to. By now, she’s probably safely in El Paso.”

  He stood there in shock, and Heather quickly opened her car door, slid behind the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

  “El Paso?”

  “That’s right,” she called through the closed window. “Some women need more distance than others.” El Paso was the farthest city from Houston she could think of.

  She drove off, but her hands shook on the wheel. She lied only when she had to protect a life—or two or three. This time, if she included her own, the number rose to four.

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Mary Beth stood in the dining room of Welcome Home surveying the women as they ate lunch, waiting for their reaction to the meal. She had suggested the menu, a combination of practicality and elegance. She’d scooped them out and stuffed the last of the tomatoes from the garden with a sauté of chopped ground meat, mushrooms and sweet onions, seasoned with a little of this and that. She’d mixed the whole concoction with rice, to stretch it, and topped each stuffed tomato with cheese and broiled it for a minute.

  Several women looked her way and offered a thumbs-up. Her smile stretched from ear to ear. She’d always loved to cook, but she’d certainly never fed a crowd before. It was hard work, but creative and satisfying. Just like everything else she’d been doing at Welcome Home.

  The group sessions, the individual counseling sessions and the practical you-need-to-support-yourself sessions consumed her days. She’d started to develop a résumé. Heather had promised to review her budget for job training. Maybe there’d be enough for Mary Beth to go to school and earn a culinary certificate. Even a basic one would give her an edge to apply for jobs in a restaurant. The hands-on experience she was getting at Welcome Home was an unexpected bonus.

  She glanced over at her children with their new friends. Her kids ate what the adults ate, but Mary Beth had learned that most children weren’t that adventurous. She always supplied a plate of PBJs at lunch.

  Heather appeared in the doorway.

  “Hungry?” asked Mary Beth. “Try one.” She placed a stuffed tomato on a small plate.

  “It not only looks wonderful, but smells wonderful, too,” said Heather as she picked up a fork and tasted it.

  She hoped Heather would like it. Didn’t want her to have second thoughts about that job training.

  “Mmm. This is delicious.” Heather’s eyes were closed as though she were savoring an exotic flavor. “You have provided the most excellent meals for us.”

  “With help,” said Mary Beth quickly. She was only Stella’s assistant. Stella was the professional, and Mary Beth wouldn’t do anything without her approval.

  “We need to talk about a few new things, so when you’re finished here, can you meet me in the lounge? Say, ten minutes?”

  “Sure.” Mary Beth watched Heather walk down the corridor, and a small knot formed in her stomach. New things required change. She didn’t like change. Sometimes, not even changes for the better, which was stupid. Change was part of growth. Mary Beth had adopted that as her mantra when she was frightened. And she was frightened now.

  Satisfied that everyone had been served, she said to Stella, “Heather’s asked to speak with me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Stella patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’re doing a great job.”

  Man, this place made her feel on top of the world. Sometimes she wished she could stay here forever. But even she realized that as good as it was, a shelter was not a permanent home for the children. Or for her. Ah, well. One day at a time is all she had to handle.

  HEATHER WAS STANDING behind the couch waiting for her. Mary Beth saw the worry line on the counselor’s forehead. The knot in her stomach became a lump. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come on. Let’s sit down.” Heather sat and patted the place next to her.

  What choice did she have? Mary Beth sat and looked at Heather expectantly.

  “I have good news and not-so-good news. And you’ll have some decisions to make.”

  Mary Beth inhaled deeply. “Okay.”

  “First, the good news. We do have funding for you. You can attend the culinary program at the community college whenever you’re ready. I just wanted you to know that you have that o
ption.”

  Everything else went out of her head. “Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll take any job while I go to school. And then try to find an upscale restaurant. This is great.” At that moment, she saw a future for her and the kids.

  “There’s the other thing, Mary Beth.”

  Heather’s tone of voice brought her back to reality. She gripped the arm of the sofa, and was shocked when Heather’s hand clasped hers.

  “I have some news, honey.”

  She nodded. This was not good. “Hank?”

  “He’s not giving up. He’s made his way though every patrol division in the city and is now scouting the west side.”

  “The cops are going to help him, aren’t they?” she managed to whisper.

  “No. Not necessarily. We have a lot of excellent cops, too.”

  “All it takes is one….”

  “Our security system is the best,” Heather reassured her. “Even if he came to the front door, he couldn’t get inside.”

  “Maybe.” But if Hank ever showed up, he wouldn’t think twice about shooting his way through.

  “He won’t do anything that drastic, Mary Beth, because he’d not only lose his job, he’d go to jail.”

  “But he’s crazy, Heather. He won’t think rationally. He’ll just go after what he wants. Me. And the kids.”

  “I told him you were in El Paso.”

  Her head jerked up. “What? You’ve met him?”

  Heather nodded. “Now you’ve got some thinking to do. Some choices to make. But you don’t have to make them now. Take a breath. And another. Find your center.”

  She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Inhaled again. Closed her eyes. Thought about green trees, open fields and a clear stream. Thought about her Megan and Neil running through the fields laughing. She opened her eyes.

  “What kind of choices are you talking about?”

  “If you’d feel safer, I can arrange for you to be transferred to a shelter in Dallas. That’s a four-hour trip from here. We’ve worked with this shelter in the past. You won’t lose anything in terms of training and planning a future.”