The Lawman Lassoes A Family (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 24) (Contemporary Romance)

by Rachel Lee

  He got to her in the nick of time, grabbing her, tumbling to the ground and rolling away just as the car roared past, so close that he could feel its heat.

  Krystal started crying. Vicki came running, screaming her daughter’s name. The cop in Dan took a mental snapshot of the vehicle and driver. All in an instant. Then people began to pour out of their houses onto their porches.

  He sat up with Krystal in his arms, hugging her so tightly that he might have scared her more. “It’s okay,” he heard himself say. His heart thundered like a galloping horse. Fury at the driver filled him, but his main concern was the sobbing little girl.

  Then Vicki scooped her from his arms. “Are you all right? Is she okay?”

  Dan rolled to his feet. “I think she’s okay.” He was fairly certain he’d protected her well enough. He suspected the same couldn’t be said about himself. “Out of the street. Now.”

  The words penetrated Vicki’s fear for her daughter, and she scurried with her over to the sidewalk in front of Lena’s house. Only then did she set the girl on her feet, studying her anxiously.

  Dan called out to the neighbors. “Everyone’s okay, folks.” They began trickling back inside, probably wondering what had just happened.

  Vicki knelt in front of Krystal. “Does anything hurt, sweetie?”

  “No.” Krystal’s sobs were turning into hiccups. “I was scared.”

  “Oh, baby, so was I.”

  “Get her inside and check her out. I’ll be right there.” Dan pulled out his cell phone, amazed he hadn’t crushed it when he’d rolled with Krystal, and called the dispatcher. “Jay, Junior Casson just came speeding southbound down Collier at about fifty in a twenty-five. Nearly hit a little girl crossing the street. I want him picked up now.”

  *

  Inside, he found Vicki and Krys sitting together on the couch. Vicki had protective arms wrapped around her daughter. Krys’s tears were drying, but Vicki’s face was still almost white. He squatted in front of them, noting that Vicki had a few small abrasions on her chin.

  “How are you?” he asked her. “Did you get hurt when you fell?”

  “I’m fine. Dan, I can’t thank you enough...”

  He shook his head. “Don’t. I’m just glad I reached her.” Then he looked at the girl. “What about you, pumpkin?”

  Krys, who had been sucking her thumb again, pulled it out of her mouth. She wormed out of her mother’s hold and landed between Dan’s thighs to give him a big hug.

  “Not mad at me?” he asked her.

  “No. You helped me.”

  He stood up with the girl in his arms, feeling the adrenaline seeping away. With its departure came the awareness that he was probably growing some good bruises on his hip and shoulder. Turning, he sat beside Vicki on the couch, so the child was with them both.

  At once Vicki reached out and drew her daughter close again. Dan forgot about everything that had been troubling him earlier, and wound his arms around both of them. For a long time nobody said a word.

  “That guy was driving like a maniac,” Vicki said eventually.

  “They’re going to pick him up. One nice thing about being a cop here. I recognized the idiot behind the wheel.”

  “Good.” Although Vicki didn’t sound as if satisfaction was going to ease her terror anytime soon. “Dan, if you hadn’t...if...”

  “Shh,” he said gently. “No point worrying what didn’t happen. I’m just glad I was there. Of course, if I hadn’t been, Krys probably wouldn’t have run into the street.” And she’d have been less eager to see him if he hadn’t been staying away. Guilt struck him, hard on the heels of fear for the child.

  “Don’t blame yourself. My God, you saved my daughter.” Vicki made a choked sound. “Would you believe we’d been practicing how to properly cross streets while we were out walking?”

  The irony didn’t escape him.

  “I was bad,” Krys said. “Look both ways first.”

  Dan didn’t have a clue how to respond to that. Saying she hadn’t done anything wrong would be untruthful. Blaming it all on the driver would only be partially correct. He looked across the top of the soft blonde head cradled between them and met Vicki’s gaze. She still appeared pinched, but a little less pale.

  “That’s right,” she said. “Look both ways. Sometimes cars come really fast.”

  “Sorry.”

  Vicki sighed shakily. “It’s good to be sorry, but it’s even better not to do it again. Okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  Her hand still trembled as she lifted it to stroke Krys’s hair. She looked at Dan again. “What about you? Are you okay? That was a hard fall.”

  “Just a few bruises. I’ve rolled before.”

  “God, I never saw anybody run as fast as you did.”

  “You were doing a pretty good job yourself.”

  “I tripped.” Anguish laced the words, and he watched as she drew a few deep, steadying breaths.

  Dan wondered if they needed to change the subject, get her and Krys’s mind off what had just happened. He doubted it would be as easy to make Vicki move past it quickly, but he wanted to see Krys smiling again. What had almost happened was probably meaningless to her, and a lot of her terror likely had come from being grabbed that way. It had probably conveyed more to her than the whole rest of the situation.

  “How about I read a story,” he said. “Or maybe we can play a game?”

  “Game,” said Krys promptly. She gave up sucking her thumb and wiggled free of the confinement of two hugs.

  “Go get one, honey,” Vicki said. From the expression on her face, Dan got the distinct feeling that letting her daughter out of her sight, even to run upstairs, was difficult right now. It might be difficult for a long time to come.

  Vicki turned back to him after watching Krys disappear around the corner. “Dan, I’ve got to thank you—”

  He shook his head, about to tell her it wasn’t necessary. As if he was going to stand by and watch any child get hit by a car? But just then his cell rang. He rolled his eyes at Vicki, who smiled wanly.

  It was Dispatch, of course. “Good. All right, I’ll be in shortly, Jay.” He disconnected and rose. “I’m sorry. They caught the driver, but by the time they did he’d slowed down to a legal speed. His dad’s screaming they need to let him go, and while we could hold him for seventy-two hours without a charge, we don’t do that around here for anything less than real mayhem. I’ve got to go in and file my report. Knowing that family, Junior will skip the county before morning.”

  Dan saw her face become pinched again. “I understand,” she said, her voice muffled. Just then Krys bounced into the room carrying a board game.

  “I’m sorry, Krys,” he said. “I’ve got to go to work for a little while. We’ll play tomorrow, okay?”

  Krys’s smile faded, but she nodded. “Will you come back?”

  “I promise. If you’re asleep, maybe your mommy will let me come up and peek in on you.”

  “Of course,” Vicki said swiftly.

  That brought the smile back to Krys’s face. “Okay,” she said. “Mommy can play with me.”

  From the look on the child’s face, Dan figured she was going to fight sleep with all her might until he got back. He guessed he’d better hurry.

  Chapter Seven

  Dan filled out his incident report in record time, insisted that Junior’s blood be tested for illicit substances, then raced back to Lena’s house.

  Sure enough, when he let himself in, Vicki was on the couch with Krys, and it was after ten. Way past the girl’s bedtime. His heart squeezed with concern and caring for both of them. He was definitely in it up to his neck, and right now he didn’t care.

  “She wouldn’t go to bed until you got back,” Vicki said.

  At the sound of her mother’s voice, Krys stirred, opened her eyes and smiled. “Dan,” she said with satisfaction.

  He perched on the edge of the couch beside her. “Do you know the story of Cinderella
? How her fairy godmother turned her pumpkin into a coach?”

  “Yup,” Krys said sleepily.

  “And then if she didn’t get home in time, it turned into a pumpkin again?”

  Krys nodded.

  “You’re going to turn into a pumpkin if you don’t get to bed soon.”

  A sleepy giggle emerged from Krys. “You called me a pumpkin before.”

  “And you’re a very cute pumpkin. But you still need your sleep.”

  “Carry me?”

  Dan quickly searched Vicki’s face and she nodded. He scooped the girl up in his arms, suppressing a wince as he felt the bruise on his shoulder protest. Oh, it was going to be a good one. So was his hip, come to that.

  Ignoring both, he carried his precious cargo upstairs, then said good-night and slipped out while Vicki got the girl into bed.

  “Dan...” Vicki’s voice trailed after him. “Stay a bit?”

  “Sure.”

  Since he knew his way around Lena’s house as well as he knew his own, he started a pot of coffee. It had almost finished brewing by the time Vicki appeared.

  “That smells good,” she remarked. She looked so weary it troubled him.

  He was leaning back against the counter, waiting for the coffee, when she approached. “Turn around.”

  Surprised, he obeyed, then nearly jumped when she touched his shoulder, and he realized her fingertips met bare skin. Hunger surged in him.

  “I didn’t say anything before,” she said. “I didn’t want Krys to notice. But your shirt’s torn. Dan, that’s an awful bruise you’re getting.”

  “I’ll survive.” He felt frozen in place, wanting her touch to continue. But her fingertips went away.

  She said, “I guess it’s too late for ice.”

  “Probably. It’ll be okay, Vicki. If that’s the worst to come out of tonight, I’m grateful. I’m also grateful we got Junior Casson.”

  Dan heard her move to the table, so he turned around again.

  “Is he a problem?” she asked.

  “Wild child, although he’s getting a little too old for that. Every place has a family or two like the Cassons, always on the edge of trouble, always creating it if they can’t find it. Mostly stupidity and orneriness. Anyway, he’s going to be off the streets for a little while, longer if we find out he was under the influence.”

  She nodded, then gave a start. “Let me get your coffee. You sit down. If your shoulder looks like that, other parts must hurt, too.”

  He eyed the hardwood chairs, gauged his hip and said, “Living room?”

  “Fine by me. And for goodness’ sake, if you want to use the recliner, use it.”

  He paused in the doorway. “I didn’t want to take Hal’s seat.”

  She sighed. “I kinda guessed. But Hal hasn’t been using it. Make yourself comfortable. Please. If that was going to be a problem, I wouldn’t have brought the sofa with me. I expect other people to use it.”

  So Dan risked taking the end of the sofa away from where she always perched, and accepted a mug of hot coffee gratefully. When she sat, she curled one leg under her, leaned back against the overstuffed arm and faced him, holding her own mug in both hands.

  “This is going to be some story to tell Lena,” she remarked.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if she went down to the jail in the morning to give Junior a piece of her mind.”

  Vicki laughed quietly. “I wouldn’t mind doing that myself.”

  “He’s sure as hell going to get one from me. I’d have done it tonight except I got the feeling Krys wouldn’t go to bed until I got back.”

  “You called that right.” Vicki sipped coffee, then astonished him with what she said next. “You’ve been avoiding us. Did I do something wrong?”

  Crap, he thought. Called out. He gave her points for it, though. Apparently, she was a lot like her aunt. “I got the feeling you didn’t want me so involved with you and Krys.” He could be blunt, too.

  She nodded slowly, looking pensive. “I told you about my fears. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Krys really likes you. So do I, for that matter.” Vicki’s eyes lifted, meeting his. “We can do friends, right?”

  It might be a new kind of hell, given how badly he wanted her, but he wasn’t a proud man. He’d take what he could get. This past week of trying to do what he believed Vicki wanted had been a kind of hell, anyway. “Sure,” he said. No point in being blunt about this. It was tough enough and he didn’t want to bring her fears back.

  “Good.” She hesitated, then astonished him anew. “And do me a favor?”

  “If I can.”

  “Next time you decide to read my mind, tell me what you think I’m thinking. You were the one who mentioned that silence leaves a lot of empty space to imagine things.”

  He laughed. Somehow he just had to. “Okay,” he agreed. “So what was going on?”

  “I was worried about Krys. She’s said a few things, done a few things, that make me think she’s having separation anxiety. I suspect the move was harder on her than I expected. And while I’m not sure she remembers Hal much, if at all, she’s been through a lot of loss in little more than a year. Anyway, she’s attached to you, obviously, and I don’t mind. Honestly.”

  “Are you sure about that? I heard what you said about cops.”

  She bit her lip. “Okay, I’m a little worried. But it’s crossed my mind that I can’t protect against everything, and she has needs to be met. You’re apparently meeting one, and I’d have to be a witch to deprive her.”

  He paused before responding carefully, “My job isn’t all that dangerous, Vicki. I’ve been a deputy for seventeen years. Do you know how many times I’ve had to pull my gun? None.”

  “Really?” She hesitated. “I think Hal did a couple of times.”

  “Big cities are different. And I’m not saying it never happens around here, but it’s been two decades since we lost a deputy. We have our share of problems, I won’t deny it. But I think it’s more dangerous to be a crab fisherman.”

  “Maybe so. Anyway, I don’t need to pass my fears to Krys. She’s struggling to make new connections here, and she needs every one of them.”

  He’d already figured out Vicki was remarkable in a lot of ways, but it floored him to see her put aside a very natural fear of her own in favor of what she believed to be her daughter’s best interest. “So I’m not smothering you?”

  Her expression turned wry. “To do that, you’d need to try a whole lot harder, cowboy.”

  He grinned. “Fair enough. I’m coaching girl’s soccer tomorrow. The six-to-eight group. You wanna bring Krys to watch? There’ll be some younger kids there watching, too.”

  “That’d be good for her,” Vicki agreed.

  “And what about you? What would be good for you?”

  The question seemed to startle her, but before she could answer, the front door opened and Lena swept in. Clad in her usual Western shirt and jeans, her only concession to playing bridge with her girlfriends had been a dab of makeup.

  “We slaughtered them,” she said cheerfully. Then she took in the scene on the couch, and evidently something got her attention. “What happened? Is everything all right?”

  “It is now,” Vicki said. “I’ll let Dan tell you. A cop can do it without breaking down.”

  Lena sat on the other sofa almost as if her strings had been cut. “Krys?”

  “She’s fine,” Vicki said swiftly. “Thanks to Dan.”

  So he sketched what had happened, almost as if he were filling out a report, but adding a few details, such as how Vicki had tripped, and why her chin was abraded.

  “Well, I never,” Lena said. For a minute or so she didn’t say any more, then demanded, “Junior Casson? He’s in the jail?”

  “Yes,” Dan answered.

  “Shoulda let that young man run. Maybe he’d never come back.” She shook her head. Then she took in Dan. “Are you all right, too?”

  “Bruised but fine.”

&
nbsp; Lena rose. “I’m gonna get me some of that coffee—there’s more, right?”

  Vicki nodded.

  “Good. I’m getting some, then you’re going to take me through this again, Dan Casey. And this time not like an abbreviated police report.”

  He flashed a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She was tutting as she walked out. “Junior Casson. I’m going to have some words for him.”

  *

  The soccer game the next afternoon turned out to be a lot of fun for both Vicki and Krys. Krys soon met three children near her own age, and it provided a perfect entrée for Vicki to become acquainted with some of the other women. The young girls running wildly on the field, occasionally getting confused about where to go and what to do, provided an endless source of conversation and some amusement.

  Mothers cheered loudly, but refrained from any critical remarks, which was a pleasant surprise for Vicki, who’d gone to some recreational league games with friends and discovered that some parents took the game as seriously as if it were the World Cup. The women surrounding her that afternoon remained a whole lot more laid-back, apparently thinking their children were here to have fun, not get college scholarships ten years down the road.

  When it was over, Vicki was encouraged to come back next weekend, and even had an invitation to join a local church.

  She had noted, however, that Dan seemed to be moving a bit stiffly and felt a pang for the discomfort he must be feeling. Her heart wanted to reach out to him even though it was nothing terribly obvious, but when they met up after the match, as the girls and their families scattered to cars or along the neighborhood sidewalks, she asked him about it.

  “Just bruising, but I guess I got some road rash on my shoulder. My skin is annoyed with me.” He smiled. “I’ll be fine. Now how about I take us all for ice cream?”

  “Yay!” Krys squealed. Then she added, “Mommy, I wanna play soccer.”

  Vicki opened her mouth to say she wasn’t old enough yet, but Dan spoke first. “There’s a group of four-and five-year-olds. One of the elementary schoolteachers runs it as a kind of intro-to-skills group.” He turned to Vicki. “And lest you worry, no heading of the ball allowed at that age.” He chuckled. “Not that most of them are in any danger of getting their heads that close to a ball.”