Playing With Fire

by Ruth Staunton

  Cade hesitated; part of him wanted to apologize. He really hadn’t intended to make her feel like a child, but it was instinctive for him, protective. It came as naturally as breathing, and though he understood Stacy’s frustrations, there was a part of him that felt like she needed that protection, whether she wanted it or not. He cupped the back of her neck, gently kneading at the knot of tension that had settled at the base of her skull. “Long day?” he asked, pulling her close and offering both comfort and apology in the best way he knew how.

  Stacy nodded. “It was a madhouse. I think every single parent and young married couple in the tri-county area decided they needed to buy a trailer today. I’m going to be drowning in paperwork up to my ears for days, but of course the bosses are ecstatic.”

  “Of course,” Cade said dryly. “They aren’t the ones having to deal with all the paperwork, are they?”

  “Exactly,” Stacy said, sighing.

  “Hungry?” Cade asked. “Ed’s still working on the steaks, but there’s always plenty of food. Stacy nodded tiredly against him.

  “I thought about food at some point,” she said, “but I’m not sure I ever ate any.”

  “That’s not good, Anastasia,” Cade said firmly, leading her over to the food table. Stacy grabbed a plate and piled it with chips, salsa and finger foods. She ate where she stood as most of them did, and before long she was debating the merits of various mobile homes with Linda’s cousin and laughing at the antics of another couple’s young, rambunctious kids. As the night wore on, Cade found himself surprised at how many of the stories and conversations Stacy could contribute too. Since she’d grown up here, she remembered many of the stories that were told and had even been a part of a few of the more recent ones. She and Linda seemed to really hit it off and were swapping recipes and making plans to get together the following week. She fit into the group as if she’d always been there, and Cade was very happy that she did.

  The party began to break up around ten since many of the group had children at home and babysitters waiting to be relieved. ‘What a wild group we are,’ Cade thought wryly, gathering up discarded cups, half-empty soda cans and other assorted detritus left behind in the wake of the departing crowd. ‘God, I’m getting old.’ On impulse, he went to Stacy, who was standing at the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in soapy dish water. “Want to go for a ride,” he asked, “or would you rather just go home?”

  “A ride sounds good,” she told him. She passed a plate under the running water to rinse it and handed it to Cade, obviously expecting him to take over the drying and putting away portion of the operation. He had been around enough to be vaguely familiar with Linda’s kitchen so he grabbed the dishtowel from the drawer and took the proffered plate.

  “Are you sure?” He asked, remembering suddenly that, unlike him, Stacy had worked all day. He dried the dish and set it aside until he could find out where it belonged. “You’re not tired?”

  Stacy rolled her eyes and passed him a handful of utensils to dry. “Tired? Please, I’m just getting my second wind.” She shot him a mischievous look. “I’m not old and decrepit like some people.”

  “Old?” Cade echoed, puffed up with mock outrage. “I’ll show you old.” Quick as lightning, he dipped his fingers into the soapy water and flicked them at her. He regretted it almost immediately since the splattering of suds landed in some rather interesting places on her already tight T-shirt. Stacy, however, paid the dampness no mind. She squealed, laughing, and swiped her hand through the water, spraying the front of his shirt in retaliation. “Oh, you’ve done it now,” he threatened, but before he could make good on his threat, Linda came in and stopped them.

  “That’s enough, children,” she told them, laughing. “In fact, leave those. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll finish up. Go home.”

  “I’m almost done,” Stacy protested. “It will only take a minute to finish them up.”

  “Which means it won’t take me any longer than it’ll take you,” Linda countered. “Go.”

  Stacy tried one last protest, but since it was clearly getting nowhere, they said their goodbyes, thanked Linda once more, and headed out. In the yard, Stacy stopped. “My car,” she said suddenly. “We didn’t come together, remember. What are we going to do about my car?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Cade replied. “I’ll drop you off at home tonight and bring the car to you tomorrow, just give me your keys.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she told him. “I can get the car.”

  “I know,” he said, “but I’m going to.” He felt her stiffen and start to protest, but he held up a hand, stalling her. “I know you’re perfectly capable of handling it yourself, but it’s only right that I take care of it since going for a ride was my idea. I’m the one inconveniencing you.”

  “It’s not an inconvenience,” Stacy replied. “I want to do this too, but if you insist.”

  “Thank you,” Cade said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He helped her into his truck then went around and climbed in himself. “It’s no trouble, you know. I like taking care of you.”

  Stacy sighed. “I’m not a child who needs to be taken care of. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

  “There’s nothing childish about it,” Cade insisted. “I’m just saying you don’t have to do it all alone. Everybody needs a little help now and then.”

  “Even you?” Stacy countered.

  Cade bit back the immediate denial that came to mind. He knew, logically, that he, too, needed help. Everyone did. That’s why cops had partners and the military had units. His time in the Marines had drummed that into his bones, but it had been a damned long time since anyone had had his back. Not since Greg.

  “I thought so,” Stacy said, misinterpreting his silence for denial.

  “It’s not like that,” he protested. Stacy shot him a skeptical look. Cade sighed. “Yes, even me. I know that. It’s just that it’s been a long time since I’ve had anybody who had my back. I’m used to getting by on my own.”

  “So am I,” Stacy said quietly. They lapsed into silence, lulled by the night, wandering aimlessly down narrow gravel and red dirt roads that meandered their way around wide fields dotted with scattered barns and houses. Eventually, Stacy started pointing out the houses as they passed and quietly describing the families who owned them, the histories of the houses, and in some cases, unique architectural details. Cade was frankly impressed. She had an amazing wealth of knowledge. When Cade said as much, she shrugged it off.

  “My parents are realtors. I grew up in the business,” she told him.

  “You’re an only child, right?” Cade asked.

  Stacy nodded. “You’re not though.”

  “Nope,” Cade replied, laughing, “not by a long shot. I have three sisters and two brothers, an even half dozen, as my mom says.”

  Stacy gaped at him. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Never a dull moment, that’s for sure,” Cade told her. “I’m right in the middle, have an older sister and two younger ones and a brother on each side, one older, one younger.”

  “What was it like?” Stacy asked.

  “Chaos,” he said, grinning, “and I loved it.” He pulled off the road and skirted around to the back edge of a field, careful of the waist-high cotton plants. He stopped near the back and pulled up in front of a wild, overgrown area that marked the back border of the field. “Let’s watch the stars,” he said. He climbed out, opened Stacy’s door, and led her back to the back of the truck. Opening the tailgate, he boosted her up onto it then climbed up beside her. They were watching the stars and talking quietly about Cade’s siblings when a sudden noise broke their comfortable quiet. Stacy startled and turned to him, wide-eyed. He held up a hand to keep her quiet and jumped down, walking around the truck and retrieving a flashlight from beneath his seat.

  “What?” Stacy began. Cade put a finger to his lips and mouthed teenagers over his shoulder to her, flicking a glance further d
own the field to where another truck sat. Stacy nodded, breaking into a mischievous grin when he turned on the flashlight and shined it into the bushes.

  “Kyle Jefferson,” Cade said suddenly, with enough steel in his voice to make even Stacy jump. The bushes rattled again and the boy moved into the beam of Cade’s flashlight. Thin and dark-haired, with the loose-limbed gangly build of adolescence, Kyle looked for all the world like he had swallowed his tongue.

  “Sir?” he croaked in an embarrassingly adolescent warble that immediately made his face flame crimson.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing out here at this hour?” Cade barked.

  Kyle seemed to shrink within his skin. “Nothing’, just hanging out.”

  “And just who are you hanging out with?” Cade questioned. “Surely you’re not out here by yourself. It’s too far to walk, and I know you know that new permit you just got says you’re not allowed to drive without the supervision of a licensed driver.”

  “No, sir, I’m not driving. Cal’s with me,” Kyle said quickly, but the guilty shuffle that accompanied his rebuttal was enough to tell Cade that driving was exactly what he had been doing.

  “He is, is he?” Cade shifted his glare a little to the left. “Calvin Baker, get your ass out here.”

  A long, stringy mass of dirty blonde hair crept slowly above the line of bushes, revealing a gangly teenager in an oversized T-shirt and baggy jeans. Calvin gave a small and absolutely ludicrous wave. “Um, hi, Deputy Dawson, Ms. Stacy, what brings you out to this part of the world?” he stammered.

  Cade raised an eyebrow. “I think I could ask the same of you, Mr. Baker. What the hell are you doing out in the middle of nowhere at this time of night?”

  Cal gave a noncommittal shrug that was almost comically similar to Kyle’s earlier one. “Nothing.”

  “I see,” Cade said, deathly quiet, “do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Ten-thirty,” Cal said hopefully, though his expression made it clear that he was well aware that it was far later.

  “More like eleven-thirty,” Cade said dryly.

  “Wow,” Cal said innocently, “is it really that late?”

  “It is,” Cade confirmed. “That’s a little past your curfew, isn’t it, son?”“Yes, sir,” Cal admitted. He ducked his head a little, the very picture of contrition. He managed to hold the contrite look for a beat before plowing on with breathless speed. “I guess we’d better get going before our parents get worried.” Grabbing Kyle by the arm, he fled in the direction Cade and Stacy had come, seeking escape by pickup truck. Kyle, however, was far more reluctant. He kept sneaking nervous glances back toward the bushes where they had been hiding.

  “What’s the matter, Kyle?” Cade asked, making the boy jump as though he had been shot. “You boys wouldn’t be hiding beer back there, would you?”

  “No, sir,” Kyle spluttered, blanching impossibly pale.

  “Good,” Cade said, so stern that even though Stacy knew he wasn’t talking to her, she had to fight the urge to snap to attention. “Because you two are about to be on the road, and if I ever catch you drinking and driving, your parents will be the least of your worries. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Cal called over his shoulder, dragging his friend toward their truck with an alacrity that proved, at least for the moment, he was stone cold sober.

  Cade waited until the plume of dust from their truck disappeared over the horizon before wading into the bushes and taking possession of what was left of the beer. When he returned, Stacy was perched on the tailgate, waiting expectantly. He handed her a beer, stashed the remaining two in his toolbox, and crawled up beside her again.

  “You scared ten years off those poor boys lives,” Stacy said, fizzing with laughter.

  Cade shrugged unrepentantly, but his eyes betrayed his suppressed laughter. “They’ll thank me in the morning,” he said. “I just saved them one hell of a hangover.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Christ, I just tested Kyle for his learner’s permit not 10 days ago, and he’s already out here trying to get drunk. You’d think the fool didn’t have a brain in his head.”

  Stacy quirked an eyebrow. “Oh and I suppose you never did it.”

  Cade grinned, teeth flashing white in the moon light. “I just didn’t get caught,” he told her smugly, “at least not often.”

  “Oh,” Stacy said, intrigued, “and just what sort of things did you not get caught doing, lawman?”

  Cade shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “Just the normal sort of hell raising, I suppose.”

  “Uh-huh,” Stacy said dryly, not buying it for a minute. “That sounds suspiciously like a copout to me, Kincaid Dawson.”

  Cade couldn’t see more than glimpses of her in the darkness, but the challenge in her tone was clear, and he knew it would be in her eyes as well, just as he had expected. It was really so much fun to tease her. “All right, all right, if you insist, I’ll tell you about my misspent youth.” He settled back against the side of the truck bed and slung his arm across the top. “I guess,” he said slowly, “if you really want to know the crazy things idea that I should tell you about the night I got arrested.”

  “You?” Stacy replied, shocked. “Mr. Law and Order got arrested?”

  Cade shrugged. “We were all young and stupid once.”

  “I suppose now is when you tell me some sappy story about that being when you decided to be a cop,” Stacy said.

  Cade shook his head. “Nope, I didn’t decide to be a cop until I left the Marines. I just walked straight through the first door marked stereotype, and the rest, as they say, is history. The only thing I thought about that night was that my dad was going to kill me.”

  Stacy chuckled. “Just what did you do?” she asked.

  “I believe the official charge was defacing city property,” he said.

  “Which means?” she prompted.

  “I climbed the water tower in a neighboring town and painted ‘Go Bucs’ on it in bright green. They might have taken more kindly to my encouragement if it weren’t for the fact that the Bucs was our team mascot, not theirs, and they were our biggest rivals.”

  “Cade!” Stacy exclaimed, laughing. “It’s a wonder you got away without being tarred and feathered.” This was, after all, the rural South. High school football was nearly a religious experience. They might not be quite as fanatic about it in Virginia as in Texas, but she’d be willing to bet it was still highly dangerous territory.

  “I wouldn’t say I got away totally unscathed,” Cade admitted ruefully.

  “I take it your father didn’t find it quite so humorous?” Stacy asked.

  “He found it amusing, all right,” Cade told her. “He laughed like hell about it after he got done blistering my ass for being stupid enough to climb a 40-foot water tower in the dark and alone.”

  “Poor baby,” Stacy said, reaching to smooth an unruly lock of hair back from his forehead. “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen,” he replied, “smack in the middle of my wild, rebellious phase. What about you? I bet you had a rebellious streak a mile wide.” Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure she had ever outgrown it. Strangely, though it caused him more headaches than half the teenagers in this town, it was one of the things he liked most about her.

  “I did not,” Stacy huffed, indignant. Even in the dark, he could hear her pout. “I’ll have you know I was an absolute paragon of virtue.”

  Cade exploded with laughter. “Virtue my ass,” he muttered. “You’re a born hellion if I ever saw one.”

  “Why Deputy Dawson,” she said, in a high, syrupy voice reminiscent of Vivian Leigh in Gone with the Wind, “you wound me.”

  “You mean I know you,” Cade said drily, clearly unrepentant.

  Stacy rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. He laughed and made to grab for the end of her tongue but missed when Stacy quickly closed her mouth. He retaliated by tackling and pinning her then digging his fingers into her r
ibs. Stacy, who was extremely ticklish, squealed like a child and bucked helplessly. “Damn it, Cade, stop,” she gasped breathlessly.

  “Are you going to tell the truth?” he asked, digging at her ribs again.

  Stacy screamed, dissolving into helpless laughter. “Yes!” she capitulated. “I will, now stop before I wet my pants.”

  Cade released her, and Stacy tried to move away, but he caught her waist and hauled her back to sit on his lap. “Oh no you don’t,” he told her, “you’re going to stay right here where I can easily extract my penalty if you decide to be less than truthful.”

  “Bully,” Stacy accused, but the words held no heat. She leaned back against his chest, and Cade marveled again at how tiny she really was. Seated like this, she fit easily in the curve of his body. He could easily rest his chin on her head. Sometimes he wondered what a tiny fireball like her saw in big lug like him. Whatever it was, he was glad she did. He ghosted his fingers over her ribs in a teasing warning.

  “Ok, ok,” Stacy huffed, squirming. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who has experience climbing water towers.”

  “I’m not?” Cade asked. In truth, he wasn’t surprised. It was a common enough teenage stunt, and Stacy was certainly daredevil enough to try it.

  “Nope,” Stacy replied. “You know the old water tower out at the Thompson home place?”

  Cade nodded. It was a common teenage hangout. He’d broken up several teenage parties there, ones that involved a hell of a lot more beer and drunken teenagers than the two knuckleheads he’d just run out of here. It was an old wooden water tower from a bygone era when a bustling farming community had existed in this area, and many of the families had used the tower as a source of water for their own homes and livestock. The tower was so ragged that it barely qualified as a relic these days. As far as Cade was concerned, it was a disaster waiting to happen. For years now every time there had been a small tornado or a strong summer storm, he had expected to get a call that it had collapsed, but so far, miraculously, the tower had remained standing.

  “I climbed that water tower when I was a teenager,” Stacy went on.