Natural Born Lawman

by Sherryl Woods

  “Tate’s a lot like Grandpa Harlan. He’s the kind of a man who trusts his gut instincts. And when it comes to a choice between that and a piece of paper coming in over a fax machine, he’ll go with his gut every time. He likes you. He believes there’s more to the story than what’s on those papers and until his back’s to the wall, he’ll do everything he can to protect you. In the meantime, I’d feel a whole lot better if you were out at White Pines.”

  “I can’t impose like that, especially not if things start getting ugly.”

  “That’s exactly why you need to be there. Grandpa Harlan will stand up to the devil himself to protect those he loves. Cody’s there and Harlan Patrick, not that I want you seeing too much of him.”

  “No,” she said, that familiar stubborn tilt to her chin. “This is my fight, not your family’s.”

  He regarded her soberly. “I’m making it mine.”

  “No,” she said again, though a little less forcefully.

  Justin grinned. “Yes. Don’t fight me on this, darlin’. My mind’s made up and nobody on earth’s more stubborn than un Adams.”

  “We could debate that,” she teased, her expression brightening for the first time since the conversation began. “I’m not exactly a pushover.”

  “No, you are anything but a pushover,” he agreed, amused. “Let’s just say you’ve met your match.”

  He’d made the remark lightly, but the words hung in the air and set off a sizzling tension. Patsy’s gaze locked with his.

  “Yes,” she said very quietly. “I think maybe I have.”

  After that soft-spoken admission, it took every last bit of willpower Justin possessed to walk away from her and go back to his own place. It was late. He was exhausted. Stress piled on top of stress for days now had left him thoroughly drained. And yet he knew he wouldn’t sleep.

  He was a man who liked to control his own destiny and too much of his future hinged now on other people. For the first time since he’d put on a badge he regretted it. It kept him from being able to track down Will Longhorn and bloody his nose for the hell he’d put Patsy through and the likely anguish that was yet to come.

  Even with right on her side, there was no way to be sure that things wouldn’t get twisted around in a courtroom with Patsy coming out the loser. That was why she needed Janet at the moment, even more than she needed him. He could love her—and God knows he’d finally recognized that he did—but he couldn’t protect her from the fallout of her own impetuous decision to run. Not that he blamed her for not wanting to square off against her husband when all the odds were stacked in his favor.

  That, at least, was no longer true. With the considerable force of the Adams name behind her now, Patsy stood a better than even chance in a legal battle.

  But what if she lost? He had to consider that possibility. Nothing was certain when it came to the whims of judges. He’d seen too many black-and-white cases dismissed on a technicality. He had to believe, though, that she would win. If she didn’t, then nothing he worked for as a law enforcement officer was worth anything.

  If the legal system went awry, what then? What if he was forced to choose between a misguided legal decision and what he saw as Patsy’s God-given right to have her son? God help him, what would he do? Encourage her to take Billy and run again? Go with them, leaving behind his family, his principles?

  It won’t come to that, he reassured himself time and again. It would be too cruel.

  But fate could take cruel twists. Just ask Sharon Lynn. She’d waited for years to finally marry the man she loved, only to lose him on her wedding night. Where was the justice in that?

  He thought back to those few brief hours earlier in the evening when he’d actually felt at ease for the first time in days. Why the devil had he insisted on opening up this whole blasted can of worms? Maybe ignorance really was bliss. A few hours ago he’d only suspected the tangle of problems facing Patsy. Now he knew for sure what was ahead of her, ahead of both of them.

  How could he possibly seize control of this before things got out of hand? Other than pounding some sense into Will Longhorn, that is? Longhorn held the answers, though. And Justin was a cop with all sorts of investigative skills at his command.

  His spirits brightened. Maybe he couldn’t do anything officially, but unofficially? Yes, indeed, he could find out if there was so much as a parking violation outstanding in the man’s past. If there was anything, anything at all, he would hand it to Patsy and Janet as ammunition for the battle ahead.

  With something concrete he could do to help Patsy, his mind eased and he finally fell into a deep sleep. Unfortunately, it lasted little more than half an hour before the alarm was going off and the phone was ringing.

  “Justin, I’m sorry to wake you,” Becky apologized. “But you’d better get over to Dolan’s right away.”

  He struggled to shake the cobwebs from his mind. “Dolan’s? Why? What’s happened?”

  “Patsy just called. She was too upset for me to make much sense of it, but I think she said someone’s trying to break down the front door.”

  He glanced at the clock. Patsy wasn’t due at work for another half hour. “She’s there?”

  “Locked in the back room is what she said. I could hear the glass breaking.”

  “I’m on my way. Have you called Tate?”

  “Not yet. I got Dusty rolling first. He was just coming back into town from a patrol on the highway. He’s on his way. Should be there any second now.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up. He was still pulling on his clothes as he ran out of the house. He had his service revolver tucked into his waistband.

  It took him less than five minutes to reach Main Street. He could hear the commotion as he made the turn. Glass was shattering and someone was laying into whatever remained of the front of the store with something heavy, more than likely a crowbar or tire iron. Dusty was shouting commands that were being ignored. Instead, more debris flew, amid a flurry of curses and threats.

  Justin made the turn on two wheels, then slammed to a stop behind Dusty’s patrol car. He stared at the mess in disbelief.

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  Dusty turned, his expression shaken. “Beats the hell out of me. Looks like the guy just lost it. Either he’s got a grudge against Doc or he’s a junkie out of his mind and desperate for drugs. Do you recognize him?”

  Justin surveyed the man, from his pitch-dark black hair to his sculpted cheekbones, angled jaw and well-tailored suit. This was no thug or drifter. In fact, he concluded with a sinking heart, he would bet the ranch that this was Will Longhorn. He glanced up and down the block until he spotted a very fancy car that was almost exactly like Patsy’s, just shiny black to her white one.

  “Can you see the tags on that car?” he asked Dusty, who had a better angle on them.

  “Oklahoma.”

  “Damn.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” Tate demanded, joining them.

  “Unless I miss my guess, we’re about to meet Will Longhorn,” Justin said.

  Tate’s eyebrows rose. “Patsy’s husband?”

  “The one and only. It appears he’s come calling, though I have to say his courting leaves a little something to be desired.”

  The sheriff’s expression cheered considerably. “Well, well, well. It will surely be my pleasure to lock him up.” He glanced at Justin and Dusty. “Shall we?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Justin said grimly.

  Tate gave him a sharp look. “You don’t lay a hand on him. Understood?”

  Justin grimaced, then sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then let’s do it,” Tate said.

  It was an uneven fight, three against one with the three armed, as well. Tate had slapped handcuffs on the man before he even realized he was being taken into custody. When he heard the click and felt the cold metal around his wrists, he whirled on Tate.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  �
��Arresting you,” Tate said evenly. “We can start with destruction of property and go from there.” He began reading him his rights.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “I don’t give a damn if you’re the governor or the president of the U.S. of A., nobody pulls a stunt like this in my town,” Tate retorted.

  Justin didn’t waste time listening to the rest of the exchange. He stepped over glass shards and broken toys from the window displays, then used his own key to the drugstore. As he went inside, he called out to Patsy. The door to the back room cracked open.

  “Justin?”

  “It’s me,” he said, and opened his arms.

  Patsy ran straight into them and clung. “Oh, my God, did you see him? He’s lost his mind. He must have.”

  “I take it that’s Will.”

  Her head bobbed against his chest.

  “It’s okay, darlin’. Tate has him in custody. He won’t hurt you.”

  “But this place,” she murmured, gazing around in horror. “Look what he’s done.”

  “As long as you’re all right, it doesn’t matter. We’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”

  “I can’t believe this. It’s all my fault.”

  “It is not your fault,” Justin said. “He’s an adult. He’s responsible for his own actions, and believe me, this is not going to look good when you go into court and ask for your divorce. You have three cops as witnesses to the violence he’s capable of. You can’t get any better than that.”

  Patsy regarded him sadly. “It won’t be that easy. He won’t let it be.”

  “I know. But I’ll be right here with you.” He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. “Believe it or not, this is a good thing.”

  She stared at the broken glass and demolished displays. “You’ll pardon me if I can’t quite see it that way.”

  “Darlin’, I think I could forgive you just about anything. Now get a couple of brooms and let’s get busy.”

  “Don’t you have to go down to the station?”

  “Not yet. Tate can handle your husband. When things settle down a bit, you and I can go down there and you can press formal charges against him. Doc Dolan can press whatever charges he wants to for the damage to the store. Then you can see Janet and we’ll find out just what kind of a case she can put together for you.” He brushed a wayward curl from her cheek. “It’s almost over, Patsy. I guarantee it.”

  But, of course, it was just beginning.

  Chapter Eleven

  The last place on earth Patsy wanted to be was the sheriff’s office. Even with Justin by her side, she dreaded confronting Will after the scene and destruction he’d caused. She was thoroughly embarrassed, not only for herself, but for him. He’d always been such a proud person. She didn’t like thinking that she was to blame for him being reduced to this out-of-control mockery of a man.

  “Want me to come in with you?” Justin asked as she hesitated at the doorway to the cell block.

  Overcome with a sense of foreboding and trepidation, she almost agreed. It would be so easy to rely on his strength, to accept his protection. Then she thought better of it. She squared her shoulders and shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “It would only outrage him.”

  “So what?” Justin retorted with a touch of defiance. “Let him be outraged. Let him take a swing at me and give us one more thing to charge him with.”

  “No,” she repeated, certain now that this was a confrontation she had to face alone. “I’ll be safe enough.”

  Despite her claim, though, she was grateful that the cell door between them would be locked. Today’s scene had proved her worst fears about Will’s temper.

  After taking one last look at Justin, she drew in a deep breath and went to see her husband, all the while trying to remember that this was a man she had once loved with all her heart.

  Since she’d seen him being led away from Dolan’s, all of the fight had drained out of him. He was sitting on the cot in his cell looking dazed, as if he weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten there. He looked surprisingly chastened.

  In the months since she’d last seen him, he’d aged. There were even premature hints of gray in his straight, coal black hair. There were shadows under his eyes and lines of weariness etched on his face. And yet, despite the obvious exhaustion, he was as handsome as ever, his clothes perfectly tailored, if badly mussed from his rampage at Dolan’s. He would hate it when he realized how filthy and wrinkled he was.

  “Will,” she said softly.

  His head jerked up and for a brief instant she saw the hint of vulnerability, the flash of a boyish smile that had made her fall in love with him when they’d first met. Then, as if he suddenly remembered the circumstances, his expression hardened and the light in his eyes died.

  “You’ll pay for this, Patsy,” he said coldly.

  “No,” she said, refusing to cower under the threat. “You brought this on yourself. I wasn’t the one smashing things up at Dolan’s.”

  “If you’d opened the damn door…”

  “You were out of control,” she reminded him patiently.

  “Because of you. You took my son. You ran away from our marriage and you did it when it would hurt me the most, right in the middle of a campaign. You deliberately humiliated me.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, and met his gaze evenly. “I wasn’t even thinking of you.”

  “There, you see. It didn’t matter a damn to you that your leaving could cost me the election.”

  “No, it didn’t. I was only thinking about saving myself and Billy.”

  He gazed at her incredulously. “From me?”

  “Yes, from you. You’d turned our house into a war zone. I left you once because of it, but rather than change, you just threatened me and my parents. You virtually blackmailed me into coming back. This time I just made sure there was nobody else involved and I came to a place I prayed you’d never find me. Obviously it wasn’t far enough.”

  His expression turned triumphant. “You should have known better than that. I have the resources to find you no matter where you try to hide. It would be wise of you to remember that if you ever get a crazy idea about leaving again.”

  Patsy wrapped her arms around her middle and forced herself not to show how terrified she was that he might try to make her go home with him again.

  “I’m not coming back to Oklahoma, Will, and neither is Billy.” She said it firmly, her gaze fixed on his face as she waited for the explosion of temper likely to follow. To her amazement—and fear—there was no explosion, just a cold, cruel look.

  “I guess we’ll see about that,” he said in a soft, lethal tone. “Have you noticed that this cell has a window? It has a perfectly fascinating view of Main Street. I saw you and your boyfriend.”

  Patsy barely contained a gasp of dismay. Surely he wouldn’t drag Justin into the middle of their fight. She stared into his unrelenting eyes and sighed. Of course, he would.

  “He is not my boyfriend,” she said, hoping to persuade him.

  “Oh, I’m sure I can find folks who’d say otherwise.”

  “Pay them to, you mean.”

  “If necessary.”

  “It won’t hold up, Will.”

  “Are you willing to risk that? Is he worth losing Billy?”

  Fury outdistanced fear. “You will never take my son. Never!”

  “Try me.”

  “You won’t win.”

  “Oh, but I will. I have money and power and influential friends. I can give Billy everything. He’s half Native American. That’ll work in my favor, too. Living with you would rob him of his heritage, keep him from understanding his father’s culture. Tribal law—”

  She cut him off. “Since when are you so concerned with your culture?” she snapped. “The only time it’s mattered to you is when it can be exploited for your own political gain. Beyond that, you’ve turned your back on your people. When was the last time you spent even five minutes with your paren
ts on the reservation? When did you ever give a damn about the customs of your people?”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. She had touched a raw nerve. In fact, she suspected that most of her own problems with her husband arose from the fact that he knew in his heart that marrying her had been a betrayal of his roots, the final slap in the face of his family. He’d been proud of winning her love, only to resent the fact that he’d needed her by his side to become a more acceptable candidate for office.

  “Then the best way to make amends will be to insure that my son is raised by his Native American family,” he retorted. “It will happen, Patsy. Count on it.”

  “Will,” she began, ready to beg. Then she caught herself. That was what he wanted. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes, wanted to hear it in her voice. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, even though she was quaking inside. Instead, she said quietly, “I’m sorry it’s come to this. I really am. There was a time when I truly loved and respected you.”

  For a moment he seemed taken aback, but Patsy didn’t wait to see what he might say next. She had to get away from him before she made things worse than she already had. Head held high, she walked out of the cell block. Only when she was back in the lobby with the door firmly closed behind her did she sag against it. Justin was there at once, concern written on his face as he led her to a seat beside his desk.

  “What can I get you? Want some coffee? It’s foul, but the caffeine might jolt some color back into your cheeks.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “What happened in there? What did he say to you?”

  “The same old thing,” she said wearily. “He’s going to take Billy from me.”

  “Over my dead body,” Justin said fiercely. “That is the one thing that will never happen.”

  “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “Okay, maybe I can’t,” he conceded, “but Janet can.” He tucked a hand under her elbow and hauled her to her feet. “Come on.”

  All Patsy wanted to do was go home and hold her baby, then crawl under the covers and hide for a month. But that was what the old Patsy would have done. She was stronger now. She had to keep reminding herself of that.