Hard loving man

by Lorraine Heath

  She didn’t want to acknowledge the power in his wink or how much fun she was having. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out without an agenda in mind. If Jack had an agenda, he wasn’t sharing it with her, and she wasn’t completely certain she wanted to know what it was, anyway. Where Jack was concerned, ignorance might be bliss, although, in the end, it certainly hadn’t been.

  She shoved any disconcerting thoughts into the back of her mind, determined not to focus on the past for the next few hours, resolving to enjoy whatever tonight might bring.

  “Remind me not to come any other Saturday,” Madison said.

  “You’re too young to get in any other Saturday,” Jack reminded her. He shifted his attention to Kelley. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s nice that this type of event is made available to the younger set. No smoke, no booze. A lot of young people who really seem to be having a great time.”

  She’d spotted several of her students. Their eyes had all widened as though they were surprised to see her there, but each took the time to come over and speak. Small-town manners. She’d taken the opportunity to introduce them to Madison. If she could only help Madison find a friend, maybe she wouldn’t miss the ones she’d left in Dallas so much.

  “We try to have something different available every Saturday for the kids.”

  Kelley perked up at that admission. “We?”

  “The town.”

  “Not you personally.”

  “No, not me personally. As police chief, I answer questions about how the events should be managed so my guys aren’t called in every five minutes to handle a disturbance, but that’s about it as far as my involvement.”

  His answer had been brusque, carried an impatient tone as though he wanted to explain and move on, which led her to wonder if he were more involved than he let on. Who would have thought the troublemaker would be the one who now stopped trouble?

  “ Spencer?”

  Kelley looked up to find herself staring at a man with an eager smile. His face had rounded out almost as much as his body, but she knew the smile. “Bobby Lee Fontenot.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t think you’d remember.”

  “Teachers never forget their students,” she assured him.

  “A little surprised to see you in here with Jack, though I did always suspect he was teacher’s pet.”

  She considered protesting, but sometimes not drawing attention to a remark was the best way not to give it any significance. Jack, however, seemed to believe differently.

  “Now, Bobby Lee,” Jack drawled, a bit of censure in his voice, “a teacher’s pet is a student who’s spoiled. Spencer forcing me to stay after school was hardly spoiling me.”

  “That’s true enough, I reckon.” Bobby Lee waved his finger in the air like a magician balancing a plate. “This here’s my place.”

  She fought not to grimace. His speech had always revealed exactly what he was. A good ole country boy who was the son of a good ole country boy.

  “You seem to be doing well for yourself,” she said.

  If at all possible, he broadened his grin. “Yes, ma’am, I am. I seen in the paper where you was coming back to town.”

  That was interesting. She hadn’t realized there’d been a write-up in the paper, but then, in a town this small, articles tended to be more socially oriented, generally devoted to revealing who was visiting whom and the apparent successes of recent Hopeful High graduates rather than hard-core news.

  “Jack seemed to have missed that article,” she said, remembering his surprise when she’d first shown up in his office.

  “I doubt he ever reads the paper. Most of the articles would be about him, anyway, if he’d take credit for the good he does. Like last week when that fella—”

  “Bobby Lee, think you could have Anna bring us another round of root beer?” Jack interjected.

  “Sure thing, Jack. Anything you want. You know that. It was good to see you, Spencer.”

  “You, too, Bobby Lee.” Turning her attention to Jack, she rested her elbow on the table, placed her chin on her palm, and studied him.

  “What?” he growled.

  “What wouldn’t you let him tell me?”

  “I broke up a brawl. No big deal. Bobby Lee tends to run at the mouth and exaggerate. To hear him tell it, I was up against the Terminator.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected you to be so modest. Are there other good deeds you’ve done that caused the people of this town to want you to be police chief?”

  “This isn’t an elected position based on popularity. I’m police chief because when Chief Sawyer retired, no one else wanted the job. I had some army experience under my belt that made me a good candidate. That’s all. Don’t make me out to be some sort of hero.”

  “If you say so, Jack, but I always thought you had more potential than you let on.”

  She could see he had a smart comeback on the tip of his tongue—probably a comment on where his potential really rested: beneath the sheets. He shifted his gaze to Madison and held his tongue. The bad boy suddenly wasn’t so bad, and that made him even more of a threat to Kelley.

  “Here you go, everyone,” Anna said as she plopped mugs of root beer around the table. Another one of Kelley’s current students.

  Jack dropped a ten-dollar bill onto her tray. “Keep the change.”

  “Bobby Lee said your drinks were on the house.”

  Jack winked at her. “I know.”

  She grinned. “Thanks, Chief.” Stuffing the bill into her apron pocket, she walked off.

  “So, what are you, rich?” Madison asked.

  “Madison,” Kelley reprimanded.

  “I was just curious, that’s all. It was a big tip, so I’m wondering if it was for real or if he’s just trying to impress you.”

  “I don’t think your sister is shallow enough to be impressed by the size of the tips I leave,” Jack said. He lifted his mug, his eyes never leaving Kelley’s as he drank, leaving her to wonder if he thought she was shallow enough to be impressed by the size of other things.

  “Hey, Chief.”

  Jack lowered his mug and stuck out his hand. “Hey, Mike.”

  Kelley recognized him as the officer who’d been in the station the night she’d gone to retrieve Madison. He looked as if he’d only recently graduated from high school himself.

  Jack indicated the empty chair beside his. “Want to join us?”

  “No, no. I was just wondering”—he looked at Madison—“if Gardner would like to scoot a boot.”

  “Scoot a boot?” Madison asked.

  He gave her an absolutely adorable grin that caused deep dimples to form on either side of his mouth. “Yeah, you know. Dance.”

  “Why would I want to dance with a cop?”

  Mike looked as if he’d taken an unexpected and brutal kick to the gut, his smile completely disappearing.

  “Madison!” Kelley chastised.

  “What? It’s bad enough that I have to sit at this boring table with the chief of police like I’m some sort of criminal or something.”

  “Right,” Mike said. “Sorry. My mistake.”

  He walked away as though he were looking for a hole to drop into.

  “Madison—” Kelly began.

  “You’re a piece of work, kid,” Jack interrupted. His voice carried a threatening rumble. And if looks could kill, his eyes would have been sharp, lethal weapons. “He’s a nice guy who puts his life on the line every time he comes into work.”

  “As if. In this boring town?”

  “It only takes one bullet, kid. Some husband pissed at his wife, someone angry at his boss. A gun in his hand. A cop trying to protect. If you didn’t want to dance, you could have handled that better.”

  “You’re one to talk. I’ve been asking around. Seems you had quite the reputation for being a bad boy when you were my age.”

  “I was never mean. That’s where we differ. The only person I ever hurt was myself. Bu
t you’ve got a mean streak in you and try to hurt everyone around you, thinking it makes you important, when all it does is reveal your pettiness. Now, instead of being in the center of the dance floor with some decent guy, you can sit here and stew all by your lonesome.” Grabbing Kelley’s hand, he abruptly stood. “Come on. My buckle needs polishing.”

  Kelley contemplated protesting, sensing that she needed to deal with Madison before this situation escalated out of control. But what more could she add to what Jack had effectively delivered? Besides, he’d wound his hand so tightly around hers that she wasn’t certain the jaws of life could pry it free. She skipped along after him as he dragged her through the crowd of youngsters to the middle of the polished wooden dance floor.

  He drew her loosely into the circle of his arms. The lights were low, the music soft, the male vocalist crooning.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Madison alone.”

  “Tough,” he said in a deceptively mild voice.

  “I think you were a little hard on her.”

  “You’re not doing her any favors by spoiling her.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not spoiling her. She’s young, Jack. She wasn’t thinking.”

  “Stop making excuses for her, and just dance.”

  He was right. She knew he was. Still, it was so difficult to walk that fine line between being a sister and being a mother. Being a friend, being a guardian. She felt wholly inadequate. Younger than she was, Jack had a child, a son he was raising. Although she hadn’t seen him interact with his child, he didn’t seem to question his every action, didn’t seem to be wondering if he was up to mischief. Obviously, it was easier when you’d been with the child from birth. She sometimes felt as though she’d taken a shuttle to an alien world, and the mothership had left her to fend for herself.

  He lowered his head. “Remember prom night?”

  Her hands were resting lightly on his shoulders; his were at the small of her back. They shuffled their feet over the floor, moving very little from the spot where they’d originally begun. Much as they’d done that long-ago night. In a stairwell, where no one would see them, they’d danced to the muted strains of Whitney Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You.” How was she to have known then that, for them, the song was hauntingly prophetic?

  Holding his gaze, she nodded slightly in response to his question, confessing at long last what she’d only ever shared with herself. Even in the stairwell where no one would see, she’d refused to let her guard down, refused to allow the intimacy that Jack had so desperately wanted. She’d still maintained a distance. “I wanted to place my head on your shoulder so badly, but it would have been entirely inappropriate. You were my student, Jack.”

  And so she’d danced with him as though her heart weren’t fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird trapped in a cage. And she had felt trapped. Confused. Drawn to a student. Dreaming of him every night. Anxiously awaiting his arrival in her classroom each day.

  She’d doubted her moral fiber. Determined to stay above reproach, she’d tried to distance her feelings. Instead, she’d found herself doubting her commitment to teaching, doubting the wisdom of her heart.

  “I’m not your student now.” His voice held a challenge as he cupped the back of her head with his large hand and guided her cheek into the curve of his shoulder.

  It felt so right, as though the nook of his shoulder had been created specifically for her. He tightened his hold around her until their bodies were pressed close. He felt incredibly good.

  The song ended. Like many of the couples surrounding them, she and Jack continued to move slowly, their feet barely dragging over the floor. They were rewarded with another song, slower than the first.

  “The only reason I took Stephanie to the prom was because I knew you’d be there chaperoning,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to see you, dance with you.”

  He’d looked incredibly handsome in his tuxedo. Renting it had probably set him back a week’s salary. Their gazes must have touched a thousand times that night. Only they’d known they were riding the crest of something so dangerous. And in the end, everything had crashed around them.

  “I don’t want to talk about the past, Jack. Not here. Not now.” She didn’t want to talk about the fight they’d had that night, how she’d always feared that the heated words they’d exchanged in the stairway following their dance were what had driven him into Stephanie’s arms.

  “We have to talk about it sometime, Kelley. We need closure.”

  “God, I hate that word. It’s so overused. Just let me enjoy this moment.” She wound her arms more tightly around his neck.

  Each moment spent with him weakened her resolve to avoid him. And yet that path would only lead to more heartache.

  “I find it difficult to believe you aren’t involved with someone,” she finally said.

  “I’m not.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Were you before you discovered I was in town?”

  “I go out from time to time. No one exclusively, no one expecting a commitment. How about you? Are you involved with anyone?”

  “Madison. She takes up a considerable amount of my time.”

  “You know I was referring to any involvement with a man.”

  She nodded slightly. “No, there’s no man in my life at the moment.” She’d had an occasional date before her parents died, but after that, she’d been too busy adjusting to motherhood. “And quite honestly, I’m not looking for one.”

  “That makes it even better.”

  “I’m not sure how you figure that.”

  “Sometimes the best things in life happen when we’re not expecting them.”

  And sometimes the worst things happened when she wasn’t expecting them. She wasn’t certain when she’d become such a pessimist. Sometime between falling for Jack and finding her life turned around. The music drifted into silence.

  “I need to get back to Madison,” she told him.

  “You’re using her as an excuse to keep a wall between us.”

  “So, you’re not only the police chief, now you’re the town shrink?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Admit it. You’ve still got the hots for me.”

  “I’ll admit you intrigue me,” she said as she began walking back toward their table.

  He slid his arm around her and drew her against his side.

  “But one slow dance doesn’t erase all the reservations or reasons I have for not getting involved with you,” she assured him.

  “Then let’s take another slow turn around the dance floor.”

  She shook her head. “I really need to check on Madison.”

  He seemed as determined to keep his arm around her as she was to ease away from him. The habit of not revealing that she had feelings for Jack was so ingrained that even now she found herself searching for justifications in their actions—explaining their closeness as a result of the crowds. For a town that boasted a population of nine thousand, it had a lot of teenagers.

  They reached their table only to find it empty. Alarm skittered through Kelley. “Where’s Madison?”

  “Probably dancing,” Jack said.

  Kelley began scanning the crowds, her trepidation increasing. For a few minutes, in Jack’s arms, she’d forgotten her responsibilities. She spun around. “She’s not here, Jack.”

  “Relax, Kelley. She has to be here. I drove. Her only option was to walk, and she doesn’t strike me as the walking kind.”

  “Or she could have hitched a ride with someone.” Kelley could envision only too clearly Madison taking that avenue.

  “The place is packed. A quick look around isn’t going to tell you that she isn’t here. You check the bathroom. I’ll take a walk through the place. I promise you that she hasn’t gone anywhere.”

  But after thirty minutes of searching every nook and cranny, even Jack had to admit that Kelley was right.

  Madison was gone.

  Chapter 9

>   Jack drove his truck slowly through the empty streets. He’d alerted the patrols to keep their eyes peeled for Madison. He and Kelley hadn’t been on the dance floor that long. Two songs. Five, six minutes tops. Madison couldn’t have traveled far on foot.

  Because he knew what it was to be rebellious, he had a soft spot for the little criminal. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to grab her by her spiked hair and shake her every which way but loose.

  Now Kelley was giving him the silent treatment for handling Madison wrong. As though there were a right way to handle a teenager. Kelley had her crossed arms bunched up beneath her breasts and her worried gaze scanning the dark shadows beneath the trees lining the street.

  He wanted to be angry with her for allowing her sister to ruin their evening. But he’d always been drawn to that aspect of her that worried so damn much about others. He’d seen it a thousand times in her classroom. He had been the recipient of it himself. She wanted the world to treat everyone kindly, and when it didn’t, she fought to compensate.

  Unfortunately, that attitude resulted in a lot of lost battles and a war that could never be won. Still, he admired her determination to try.

  “We’ll find her,” he said quietly.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod without any semblance of hope.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Kelley. All parents make mistakes.”

  “That’s just it, Jack. She doesn’t see me as her mother. I’m her sister, her buddy, someone she would pal around with on the weekends. She resents that now I’m the boss. And it certainly doesn’t help the situation that I’m so incredibly inept at caring for her.”

  “I don’t think you’re inept. I think you’re just trying too hard.” Or not hard enough. “You need to punish her.”

  “Punish her?”

  “Take away her car, her music. Hell, I don’t know. Something she values. We could put her in a community service program.”

  “Community service? Like in punishing a lawbreaker?”

  “It’s not that far stretched of an option. Drinking underage is breaking the law. I let it slide. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  “I really don’t think punishment is the answer.”