Maverick Sheriff

by Delores Fossen

  Despite everything feeling wobbly, Jessa got herself walking. She could see her little boy and make sure for herself that he was indeed okay. Thankfully, she didn’t have to go far. Just two doors down, and Dr. Howland opened it for her and ushered her inside. Liam wasn’t there yet, and she prayed she didn’t have to wait much longer.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” the doctor told her, and stepped into the hall where Cooper was still waiting.

  “All right, what’s wrong?” she heard the doctor ask him.

  Puzzled, Jessa stayed in the doorway, peering around the side, and she tried to hear Cooper’s response. But he just shook his head and mumbled something she didn’t catch.

  Maybe this was about his late wife and child. Maybe the ordeal had brought back bad memories. Of course, the sheriff was about to face a whole boatload of new bad memories thanks to his mother and Jessa’s investigation.

  Since this was likely a very private conversation, Jessa started to move away so she wouldn’t be able to hear. Then Cooper pulled in a hard breath and turned to the side so that she couldn’t see his expression. But she could tell from his body language that whatever was bothering him wasn’t good.

  “I need you to run a DNA test,” Cooper said to the doctor. She missed whatever he added to the request.

  DNA? So maybe this wasn’t personal. Maybe it had something to do with a case. Except she knew all of his investigations, and there wasn’t one that required any kind of DNA test.

  “I can get a court order,” Cooper went on. “Or we can do this quietly. For now. If anything turns up, then I’d have to make it official, of course.”

  The doctor didn’t say anything for several moments and shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ll need that court order for this.”

  If Cooper had a reaction to that, she couldn’t see it. He simply nodded. “You’ll have it within the hour. Then I want the test done ASAP.”

  “Sure. Once I have the order.” Dr. Howland paused again. “Whose DNA are we comparing to his?”

  Cooper turned and delivered his answer from over his shoulder. “Mine.”

  Chapter Three

  Cooper’s mind wasn’t where it darn well should be. Even two days after donating blood, his thoughts were still on the little boy, Liam, at the hospital. The boy who now had Cooper’s blood in his veins.

  He’d already made at least a dozen calls to find out his condition. The boy was recovering, something Dr. Howland kept saying every time Cooper asked. That was good. But it wasn’t the same as seeing Liam.

  Or knowing the truth about his paternity.

  It was such a long shot that this boy could be his son. But after living with no shot at all for nearly two years, Cooper had grabbed on to the sliver of hope as if it were a lifeline.

  But it was a lifeline that he had to push aside.

  Because all hell was about to break loose.

  He’d had to make a lot of waves to get that court order for the DNA test, and by now half the county had probably heard about his request, or rumors of it, anyway.

  Including Jessa.

  She hadn’t contacted him about it yet, which meant by some miracle she hadn’t heard or either she was still too worried about Liam to do anything about it.

  Cooper was worried, too. For the boy. For this blasted hope that he couldn’t tamp down. For the test result that he should have in the next twenty-four hours or sooner.

  And worried for what the coming days would bring with Jewell’s arrival.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t push the latter aside because it was driving up the ranch road directly for the house he called home.

  “Figured she’d be driving something flashier than that,” his kid brother, Colt, mumbled. He had his attention fixed to the white car that was kicking up a trail of dust as it made its way to the house.

  Cooper hadn’t given a thought to the kind of vehicle. Only the occupants inside. Judging from the way his brother Tucker grunted, he’d done the same.

  The three of them stood, shoulder to shoulder, with Cooper in the middle, Tucker on his right, Colt on his left. They’d all worn their badges, holsters and guns. But then, they were rarely without them. Same with the Stetsons, though Colt’s and his were dark brown. Since Tucker was a Texas Ranger, his was white.

  Cooper hoped they looked intimidating as hell.

  Because the last thing he wanted was Jewell and the kids she’d raised on the very land that he, his brothers and dad had worked while Jewell had been off enjoying her life with her second husband.

  “Not sure I’ll even recognize her,” Colt added.

  Yeah, because he’d been only nine when she’d walked out twenty-three years ago. Just a kid. Heck, Tucker had only been eleven and Cooper thirteen, but he hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his head.

  The image of her leaving.

  Her exit and the affair she’d had with Whitt Braddock had crushed his dad, and because of all the pain she had caused, Cooper had made sure any good memories of her were gone, too.

  Now here they were.

  Right smack-dab in their faces.

  “That’s her, huh?” Cooper heard the woman say.

  It was Arlene Litton, the weathered-faced horse trainer who’d been with them as long as Cooper could remember. Wearing dusty jeans and a plaid shirt that’d seen much better days, she clomped up the side steps of the porch that stretched across the entire bottom floor of the two-story house and joined them.

  “You boys okay?” she asked, sounding more like a mother than their horse trainer.

  None of them attempted to lie. They weren’t okay, and they wouldn’t be until Jewell was behind bars. Not until all their names were cleared. And not until Jewell’s kin was off the ranch.

  “When’s the county deputy gonna be here to arrest Jewell?” Arlene asked.

  “Hopefully any minute,” Tucker answered.

  Cooper echoed that but hoped the only arrest warrant the sheriff would have would be for Jewell.

  Before the car accident, Jessa had been gunning to add another warrant—for Cooper—for obstruction of justice because she thought he’d tried to stonewall her investigation. He hadn’t exactly cooperated, especially with anything that would have brought his father into it, but he darn sure hadn’t obstructed anything, either.

  As if he could have with the hardheaded Jessa honchoing the investigation.

  The car pulled to a stop in the driveway. The windows were heavily tinted, so dark that Cooper couldn’t see inside. No one hurried out, but the door to the house opened, and his father stepped onto the porch with them. Cooper had hoped he’d stay inside, but then that wasn’t something his father would do. Roy McKinnon wasn’t the sort to avoid trouble.

  And trouble opened both backseat car doors.

  A woman stepped out, the spitting image of Jewell. Or at least the Jewell whom Cooper remembered from over two decades ago. Shoulder-length blond hair, slender, almost frail build. In fact, she actually looked frail, something Jewell never had.

  “Hello,” she said, looking up at them. And she had to look up, all right, because there were twelve steps leading up to the porch. Something Cooper and his brothers had joked about often. But jokes aside, it gave them the catbird seat of sorts, and it put some much needed distance between Jewell and them that Cooper had no intention of narrowing.

  “I’m Rosalie,” the woman added, her voice as frail as the rest of her.

  Rosalie, one of Jewell’s twin girls, and his sister. Biologically, anyway. He hadn’t seen her since she was barely six years old, but Cooper felt an instant connection with this woman that he darn sure didn’t want to feel. He knew from background checks that Rosalie had given birth to a little girl about six months earlier, and the child had been kidnapped from the hospital nursery.

  Never to be seen again.

  Yeah, there was a connection, all right, and Jessa’s hurt little boy had only made that wound fresher for Cooper.

  Rosalie stayed b
y the car and looked over the top to the other side of the vehicle when her fraternal twin got out.

  Rayanne.

  Nowhere near frail looking.

  She had a sturdy build, and her mop of brown hair was gathered into a ponytail. For the most part. Strands of it flew in the steamy August breeze.

  Rayanne was wearing jeans, not the designer kind, either, and she had a silver star badge clipped to her leather shoulder holster. She’d been a deputy in a small town two counties over for going on five years now. Her experience showed on her face.

  And in that snarl.

  That was a McKinnon snarl, one that Cooper recognized because he’d seen it too often in the mirror.

  Why the heck did she have to look so much like, well, family?

  “Pleased to meet you, too,” Rayanne said with a hefty dose of sarcasm in her voice. She turned her eyes on Roy. “Daddy,” she said with even more sarcasm and a chip on her shoulder that was bigger than the Smith & Wesson she was toting. Maybe because she blamed Roy for all of this.

  Well, the blame was in the car, not with his dad.

  “Oh, she’ll be fun,” Arlene mumbled, mimicking Rayanne’s sarcasm.

  The driver’s-side door opened. Still no Jewell. But it was trouble of a different kind.

  FBI agent Seth Calder.

  Black hair, black suit and slick black mirrored shades covering his eyes, he stepped out, his phone anchored between his shoulder and his ear. He had that arrogance of a fed written all over him.

  Cooper hated him on sight.

  The breeze caught the side of his jacket, whipping it back, and the sun hit his holster and badge just right so it glinted in Cooper’s eyes. Cooper had to blink and look away for a second.

  If his stepbrother even spared them a glance, Cooper couldn’t tell. Of course, it was hard to tell much of anything with those sunglasses hiding his eyes.

  “Oh, my,” Arlene said under her breath. “He looks like something that just stepped out of my dreams.”

  Cooper and Tucker shot her a glare. “What kind of dreams?” Cooper snarled.

  Arlene lifted a graying eyebrow that’d looked as if it’d never been near tweezers. “The sort you don’t want to know I have.”

  Normally, Cooper would have appreciated the woman’s attempt to lighten things up, but there was nothing normal about this.

  Still not acknowledging them, Special Agent Calder went to the passenger-side door and opened it. How gentlemanly of him.

  Jewell finally made an appearance.

  Unlike her stepson, her attention did go straight to them, and a weak smile bent her mouth before it faded in a flash.

  She’d changed more than Cooper had thought she would. She still had the blond hair, no grays, and there weren’t a lot of wrinkles. She’d been well kept over these years, but her eyes looked old. Maybe because she’d lived with killing a man and abandoning her family all this time. He wanted to think she’d suffered for that, anyway.

  “Cooper,” she said, her voice small. Her gaze slid to his brothers, and she whispered their names before she settled on Roy. “I know you don’t want us here, but the ranch is theirs, too.”

  “Not his,” Tucker said tipping his head to Mr. FBI.

  “Seth, too. I adopted him.”

  “She’s my mother,” Seth verified, none too friendly like, and he finally put his phone away. He looped his arm around Jewell’s waist. “And just so we get this straight, we’re here to clear her name.”

  “Even if it means sullying yours,” Rayanne added, and her gaze went right to Roy. Her father. But clearly she didn’t think of him that way. Probably because she’d been raised by Jewell’s second husband.

  “We’ll see about that,” Cooper fired back at them, and that probably would have started a big family ruckus if Roy hadn’t stepped in front of them and if Rosalie hadn’t stepped in front of her lot.

  It was obvious who the peacemakers were.

  And weren’t.

  Cooper gladly put himself in the second category. He didn’t want peace with Jewell or the kids she’d chosen to raise.

  “Why don’t you show them to the guesthouse, Arlene,” Roy suggested.

  “Not me.” Rayanne grabbed a beat-up gym bag from the car. “I’m not a guest.” She marched up the steps as if she had a right to do just that, her gaze locking with Cooper’s. The glare she gave him was really a dare, challenging him to stop her from going inside.

  “Rayanne, there’s plenty of room in the guesthouse,” her sister reminded her.

  Rayanne didn’t take her eyes off Cooper. “I’m a McKinnon, just like you. And besides, there are only two bedrooms in the guesthouse, and I prefer not to have to share a room with my sister. I don’t lay well with others.”

  Cooper didn’t doubt that one bit and was about to point to the guesthouse anyway, but his father stepped to the side. “There are plenty of rooms upstairs, including yours and Rosalie’s.” Roy looked at Rosalie then. “You’re welcome to join her.”

  “No, thank you.” Rosalie scowled at her sister. “I’m sure everyone would be more comfortable if Seth, Rayanne and I were in the guesthouse.”

  “Didn’t come here to make people comfortable, did I?” Rayanne mumbled, and she pushed past Cooper and went inside.

  “I’ll show the others to the guesthouse now,” Arlene insisted.

  It wasn’t far, just about twenty yards from the main house, and Jewell no doubt knew the way since her own daddy had built it. However, Arlene’s offer was a good one because this family gathering needed to end now.

  And not just because Cooper was ready for it to end.

  He saw the other car approaching, and even though he didn’t recognize the vehicle at first, he recognized the driver when she braked to a noisy stop and threw open the car door.

  Jessa.

  And she didn’t look happy.

  Great, she’d found out about the DNA test and would want answers.

  “Are you here to take me in?” Jewell immediately asked her.

  “No.” In fact, Jessa did a sort of double take as if surprised to see Jewell and her entourage there. And maybe she was truly surprised. Because her focus zoomed straight to Cooper.

  “We have to talk,” Jessa said, and it didn’t sound like an invitation, more like an order.

  Arlene went down the steps to show the others to the guesthouse just as Jessa stormed up them. His father and brothers gave him a questioning look, but Cooper couldn’t explain things yet.

  Because he didn’t know what to explain.

  “This way,” Cooper said.

  He didn’t take Jessa through the main entry but to the side porch so they could go into his home office. It wouldn’t exactly be private if Jessa raised her voice.

  Something she might very well do.

  But his father and brothers were no doubt wrapped up in dealing with Jewell’s arrival. Once he’d dealt with this fire, Cooper had to make sure his dad was as okay as he could be under the circumstances.

  “Why?” Jessa demanded the moment she stepped inside his office.

  Since that why could cover a lot of territory, he just waited for her to finish. Cooper reached behind her and shut the door, and his arm accidentally brushed against hers. She jumped as if he’d scalded her.

  “You had my son’s DNA tested,” she went on. But that was as far as she got. Her chest started pumping as if starved for air, and she dropped back and let the now closed door support her.

  Jessa wasn’t quite as frantic as she had been two days ago at the hospital, but it was darn close. The tiny nicks were still there on her face from her encounter with the air bag, but no business suit today. She was in pants and a sleeveless white top, and she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. The dark circles under her eyes let him know she hadn’t been sleeping.

  Neither had he.

  It’d taken every ounce of willpower for him not to rush back to the hospital to get a better look at the little boy.

  “
How’s Liam?” he asked. Not avoiding her question. Nothing could do that. He was just delaying it because he truly wanted to know how the toddler was doing.

  She glared at him for so long that Cooper wasn’t sure she’d answer. “He’s better, but you already know that. You’ve called at least a dozen times checking on his condition.”

  He had. Cooper also knew Liam was doing so well that he’d probably be released from the hospital tomorrow. Jessa’s mom had flown in from Dallas so she could stay with him during his recovery and help Jessa out. Her mom was no doubt with Liam now, since to the best of his knowledge, this was the first time in two days that Jessa had left the hospital.

  “He’ll make a full recovery?” Cooper asked.

  Again, she glared. “Yes. In fact, he already wants to get up and run around. Now, why?” she added without pausing.

  Cooper pulled in a long breath that he would need and sank down on the edge of his desk. “Because of the blood-type match. And because we never found my son’s body.”

  Even though she’d no doubt already come up with that answer, Jessa huffed and threw her hands in the air. “And what? You think I found him on the riverbank and pretended to adopt him? Well, I didn’t, and Liam’s not your son. I want you to put a stop to that DNA test.”

  Cooper shook his head. “If you’re sure he’s not my son, then the test will come back as no match.”

  Her glare got worse. “You’re doing this to get back at me.” Her breath broke, and the tears came.

  Oh, man.

  He didn’t want this. Not with both of them already emotional wrecks. They were both powder kegs right now, and the flames were shooting all around them. Still, he went closer, and because all those emotions had apparently made him dumber than dirt, Cooper slipped his arm around her.

  She fought him. Of course. Jessa clearly didn’t want his comfort, sympathy or anything else other than an assurance to put a stop to that test. Still, he held on despite her fists pushing against his chest. One more ragged sob, however, and she sagged against him.

  There it was again. That tug deep down in his body. Yeah, dumber than dirt, all right. His body just didn’t seem to understand that an attractive woman in his arms could mean nothing.