A SWEETHEART FOR JUDE FORTUNE

by Cindy Kirk

  “They can bunk in Tyler’s old room when they’re done,” Matt said. “There’s twin beds—”

  “Oh. I brought sleeping bags—”

  “No need.” Matt’s gaze touched hers, then slid to Coop as he cut the finished sandwiches in quarters, clunked the plates onto the counter. “Whaddya want to drink, sport? Juice? Milk?” He grinned. “Chocolate milk?”

  “Mom?” he said, hopeful eyed, and she smiled.

  “For tonight? Sure.”

  Coop sat up straighter and nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

  She bit her lip, though, when Matt retrieved a carton of one percent milk, a container of “skinny” chocolate syrup from the stainless-steel French-door fridge. He threw her a glance. “Dad’s stuff. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Oh! Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine....” He rummaged in a cupboard for something. “Probably healthier than I am. Doc wants him to stay healthy, though. Ah—I knew I’d seen one of these....”

  Moments later, he’d rinsed out and poured milk into someone’s old sippy cup, which he then handed to Aislin, who plugged it into her mouth and started chugging as though she hadn’t had anything to drink in weeks. Matt chuckled, twin creases gouging those bearded cheeks, then turned that grin to Kelly, reminding her exactly how messed up her life was.

  How messed up she was. Ergh.

  “Linnie! What do you say?”

  There was an actual popping sound when spout left mouth. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Matt said, then faced Kelly again. “What about you?”

  “I’ll have what they’re having,” she said, watching Matt’s strong hands as he poured her milk, noting how those hands were attached to equally strong arms, which in turn were attached to a good, solid chest, and for a brief moment, because she was crazy stressed, most likely, she imagined herself wrapped up in those arms, against that strong chest. And this wasn’t even about sex—seriously, the very thought made her tired—but...caring. Being cared about—

  “You want something else?” he asked, and her eyes jerked to his.

  “What?”

  “Your sandwich. You haven’t touched it.”

  “Oh...sorry. No, this is fine, I’m just...” About to cry. Great. “I’m almost too tired to eat.”

  “I can see that,” he said, being kind again, dammit. “By the way, you can take Sabrina’s room—”

  “Mom? I’m done. C’n we go play with the dog?”

  Matt chuckled. “Mutt thought you’d never ask. Here—” he handed Cooper the plastic plate with the mangled remains of Aislin’s sandwich “—go on into the family room, back there,” he said, pointing. “Make her sit first, though. She knows the drill.”

  Kids and dog gone, Kelly finally took a bite of her sandwich. “This is really good.”

  “You must be really hungry.”

  She almost smiled. “You use butter?”

  “Mom would reach down from heaven and smack me if I didn’t.”

  Kelly bit off another corner, washed it down with the best chocolate milk ever. “Your mom used to make grilled-cheese sandwiches for Bree and me almost every day after school. You learned well.”

  Matt hesitated, then carted the griddle over to the sink. His back to her, he said, “Only thing my folks ever wanted was for any kid who set foot in this house to feel safe.” He turned. “Making grilled-cheese sandwiches wasn’t the only thing I learned well. So what’s going on, Kelly?”

  And there it was. She set down her milk glass, skimming her index finger over the damp rim before lifting her eyes to his. “Let me get the kids to bed first?”

  He crossed his arms, doing the narrow-eyed thing again, and a shiver traipsed up her spine. Finally he walked back to the island and leaned heavily on the counter’s edge, close enough for her to see the beginnings of crow’s feet fanning from nearly black eyes.

  “It’s obvious you need help,” he said, too softly for the kids to hear. “Which for old time’s sake I’m more than willing to give you...but only if you swear to tell me everything. And I mean everything. So. Deal?”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  One side of his mouth kicked up. “You got any other options?”

  She sighed. “Not really, no.”

  Still gripping the counter’s edge, Matt straightened again, his gaze drifting to the kids in the family room before resettling on hers. “I may not share the Colonel’s DNA, but I’m still his son. If you can count on him, you can count on me.”

  And God help her, she believed him. Because, as he so accurately pointed out, what choice did she have?

  * * *

  A half hour later, Matt lay sprawled in his dad’s recliner, half watching some late-night TV show, when Kelly appeared in the room’s entryway. He glanced over and his breath hitched in his chest.

  She looked downright shrunken, hunched into herself as she distractedly rubbed one forearm with her other hand. Even as a teenager she’d been on the skinny side, but now, even with the baggy sweatshirt, she was all points and angles. Damn, her cheekbones had never been that sharp.

  Or her eyes that flat.

  “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out,” he said. “Or passed out.”

  A weary smile touched her lips. Granted, Kelly hadn’t been your typical, in-your-face Jersey girl—in fact, her being so quiet was what had first attracted him. But this went way beyond being reserved. Or stuck-up, which Matt now realized was absurd. No, the word that came to mind now was...deflated. Like the minute she didn’t have to put up a front for her kids, she’d surrendered to whatever hell she was going through.

  “I’d’ve never been able to sleep,” she said, “knowing you were out here...wondering.”

  Matt clicked off the TV and levered the chair back upright. “You got that right—”

  “Please don’t feel obligated because you happened to be here instead of your dad.”

  “And I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I’m a cop, I took an oath to protect and serve, okay? Don’t recall it saying I got to pick and choose who I protected.”

  “So...this isn’t personal?”

  “Not sure how it could be, since we haven’t seen each other in, what? Nearly twenty years?”

  “Got it.” Then her brows pushed together. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  He almost laughed. “Because why would I still be living with my father?”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “But you thought. And are you gonna stand there the rest of the night or what?”

  “I might.”

  For a split second, annoyance prickled. Until Matt realized that tiny, defiant act was her trying to keep some control over a situation in which she probably felt pretty damn powerless. So he leaned back in the chair, plucked his soda can from the holder on the chair’s arm.

  “My own house is all torn up at the moment,” he said, taking a swig. “Okay, for longer than that. I’m doing most of the work myself so the remodel’s not exactly going like gangbusters. No heat, no indoor plumbing.... You get the picture. So I’m camping out here.”

  She folded her arms over her stomach. “Sabrina mentioned your divorce. I’m sorry.”

  Even after nearly a year, the sting still took him by surprise. “Thanks,” he said, appreciating her solicitude but having no intention of talking about his pulverized marriage. With her or anybody—

  “So you’re here alone?” she said.

  “No, Abby’s here, too.” Matt jabbed a finger toward the ceiling. “Upstairs. She was up this morning at five, hit the hay before it was even nine. Another reason why I’m here, since Pop didn’t much cotton to the idea of her being here alone.”

  “My goodness, how old is she now? Twen
ty?”

  “Twenty-two. And pissed as all get-out that I’m here, cramping her style.”

  “Oh, and like the Colonel doesn’t?”

  Well, look at that. Was that an actual twinkle in those pretty green eyes? Matt chuckled. “Yeah, but I’m her brother. Which is far worse. Especially since Pop spoils her rotten.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Kelly said, still smiling. Sorta. “I remember how you guys were when she was little. You all spoiled her rotten.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, and Kelly laughed softly, then glanced toward the ceiling.

  “I can’t believe we didn’t wake her up. She must sleep like the dead.”

  “She does. Always has. Last summer? Kid slept through a thunderstorm that sounded like it was gonna take out half the town.” Alf shoved herself to her feet and padded over to Matt for some loving. He messed with the dog’s ears for a moment or two, then frowned back at Kelly. “So. This story...?”

  She cupped the back of her neck, her forehead creased. “You realize I can only give you my side?”

  “Better than no side.”

  “And if I sound completely delusional?”

  “Guess that’s a risk you’ll have to take.” He took another swallow of the nearly flat soda. “But I somehow doubt your ex is buried in the woods somewhere.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kelly said drily, then finally sat on the very edge of the sofa, jerking a limp red curl behind her ear. Her mouth pressed flat for a moment before she said, very softly, “I’m scared.”

  Point to him. “For you? The kids—?”

  “Both.”

  “Your ex hurt you?” When her eyes shot to his, he said, “You started to say something. Earlier.”

  “Right.” She blew a short, humorless laugh through her nose. “Depends on how you define hurt.”

  Matt released a slow, controlled breath. “You have custody?”

  Nodding, she rubbed her hands against her jeans. “Except Rick is not happy about that. At all. Sure, he has visitation, but more and more he keeps showing up unannounced to see the kids. At first I let it go, thinking at least it showed he cared. That he’s trying.” Her mouth thinned again. “But even before tonight, it was unsettling. For the kids, I mean. Well, me, too...”

  She mashed her lips together. “The frustration, the hurt, the anger—I understand that. Rick has every right to be disappointed. To be bitter. Hey, I’m pretty bitter and disappointed, too. I did love him,” she said, her eyes filling. “With all my heart. But the day came when I realized that love alone wasn’t enough to fix our broken marriage.”

  If it was one thing Matt had learned in his work, it was that one rarely got a straight shot at the truth, that more likely than not there’d be a few side trips along the way. But without those side trips, you were likely to miss something crucial. “Broken how?”

  Kelly leaned back, grabbing a throw off the sofa’s arm to wrap up in. “We met in college. Dated for... Gosh. Four or five years before we got engaged. Didn’t get married for another year after that. Certainly long enough that I felt pretty sure Rick was, well, normal. He was... He made me feel secure. Safe. Like...” She sighed. “Like my dad used to. Over and over, Rick assured me that I could lean on him, that’s what he was there for.

  “And he was a good provider. A good dad. We were happy. For a while, anyway. He is—or at least was—a gifted salesman. And I was good with being a stay-at-home mom. I even liked my in-laws,” she said with a flicker of a smile. “Except, when...when Aislin was about six months old, Rick lost his job. And another one didn’t exactly land in his lap. I’d been doing a few small catering jobs here and there—mostly friends of his parents, that sort of thing—so I figured that was as good a time as any to expand. I had a little money, from my dad’s life insurance policy, so I invested it in my business.” Alf switched allegiances, chuffing over to rest her chin on Kelly’s knee. She smiled, plowing her fingers through the dog’s thick fur. “It blossomed, more than I could’ve dreamed. But Rick...”

  Her hand fisted. “Instead of supporting my work—which was keeping us from losing the house—he resented my success. I don’t doubt,” she quickly added, “that his pride had taken a huge hit, that he was hurting because he couldn’t keep his promise to provide for us. Having watched my father go through the same thing when he got sick, I understood that. But...”

  Kelly folded her legs underneath her to prop her elbows on her knees, leaning her head in her hands. “I didn’t want a divorce. Not for a long time. Especially after Rick’s father died and I didn’t want to cause him any more pain. And in any case, I kept thinking—” dropping her hands, she sighed “—that this was one of those ‘or worse’ times and that somehow, we’d work through it. He was my husband, Matt,” she said at Matt’s pissed sigh, briefly meeting his gaze. “The man I’d promised to love no matter what...”

  For a moment, she seemed to disappear inside herself, then said, very softly, “And it wasn’t as if we hadn’t weathered rough patches before. Except then,” she said on another sigh, “Rick started drinking more than usual. And his behavior became more...irrational. He’d either fly off the handle over nothing—especially to Coop, who he’d pick on mercilessly—or sink into this bottomless depression that was almost worse than the anger. And when Coop’s grades started to slip, when he started overeating...”

  A sad smile preceded what she said next. “I finally told Rick it was over, I was done trying to hold our marriage together single-handedly. But until I actually handed him the divorce papers I’m sure he thought I was bluffing.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Almost three years.” Her eyes filled. “And despite everything, it broke my heart. Even though, yes, I’ve finally accepted that whatever’s going on in Rick’s head has nothing to do with me. But on some level—” another sigh “—it still kills me that I couldn’t figure out how to fix things.”

  Yeah. He knew how that went, didn’t he? Knew, too, the folly of that particular mind-set, thinking if one person wants things to work badly enough, it can happen. “And sometimes, the only way to fix something is to walk away.”

  Silence shuddered between them for several beats before, on a long breath, she sagged back into the couch. “Yeah. I know.” Her eyes lowered to the dog’s ginormous head, still on her lap. “Except the divorce didn’t end the...problems.”

  “The drinking, you mean?”

  “That, and the emotional outbursts. If anything, they got worse.” Kelly lifted her eyes again, and the fear Matt saw there knifed him in the gut. “In fact, Rick’s only supposed to be with the kids when his mother’s around. Since he lives with her now.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Very. I’d trust Lynn with my life. And my kids’. She’s devastated by what’s happened. And as frustrated at not being able to get through to Rick as I was. Am. So this seemed a reasonable compromise. Except, as I said, he keeps coming over. And about a week ago, I noticed this...blankness in his eyes. And that...”

  Her lower lip briefly quivered. “I’ve tried talking to Family Services to get a restraining order but they don’t issue those on hunches. On feelings. On things that...” Pressing her lips together, she gave her head a quick shake. “On what might happen. And since he’s never actually harmed the children...”

  Something in her voice... Matt’s eyes narrowed. “So what changed things?”

  A moment or two passed before she said, “Rick called, long after the kids were asleep, wanting to talk to Coop. I said no and he went ballistic. More than usual, I mean. Then he insinuated...” She swallowed. “He said if he c-couldn’t have the kids whenever he wanted, then neither of us could.”

  Matt froze. “And you took that to mean...?”

  “Something I can’t even think about. And what really s
cared me was that he wasn’t drunk. Not that I could tell, anyway.”

  For several seconds, Matt stared at her profile as she kept her gaze fixed on the coffee table between them. He would never have figured the Kelly he’d once known for a liar—Sabrina wouldn’t have kept her as a friend if she had been. But he didn’t know this Kelly, did he? “You think he was serious?”

  She lifted tear-filled eyes to Matt again. If she was pulling one over on him, she was doing a bang-up job. “I sure wasn’t going to stick around and find out, was I? Court orders be damned.” She sighed. “So. Here we are. Still want to help me?”

  Matt sat forward, like that would relieve the agita. In theory he understood the impossibility of mitigating every potential nightmare. No police force in the country had those kinds of resources. Also, in theory, as an officer of the law he was bound to uphold that law. And for God’s sake, not be a party to someone breaking that law.

  Except he’d also seen firsthand how often inaction led to unimaginable horror. And even more unimaginable grief. Maybe he couldn’t say for sure she was telling the truth, but his gut told him she was. At least, mostly. Because his gut was also telling him she was holding something back. Something he’d pry out of her later, for sure.

  But not tonight.

  After a long moment Matt got to his feet and looked past Kelly into the kitchen. “You sure nobody can connect you to this place? Your ex? His mother?”

  “Positive.”

  “But they can contact you?”

  “They have my cell number, yes. And no, it can’t be traced. I checked.”

  He almost smiled. “I couldn’t—and won’t—even try to advise you on what to do. In fact—” he finally met her gaze “—this conversation? Never happened. Got it?”

  A frown momentarily dug into her brow, then eased. “Yes.”

  “Then you can stay here, at least for the moment. Until you—we—figure something out. I’m sure Dad would agree. And in any case, he won’t be back for a week. By that time... Well. Anything can happen, right?”

  Kelly stood and shoved her hair away from her face. “And Abby?”