Normally he liked to use these quiet moments to sort things out—evidence in a case, personnel problems, community relations and, of course, the latest problem at the jail. Today, though, his thoughts were purely personal. Drew Winslow, his former supervisor from Dallas, would be calling again soon, expecting an answer. An answer Tate didn’t have.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been considering it. For the past week he’d thought of little else. Being asked to join a prestigious task force formed by one of the state’s largest and most respected law-enforcement agencies wasn’t something that happened every day. It was an honor, as well as a major career opportunity. A recognition of the skills he’d honed during his four years of service with the Dallas Police Department, his six years as a sheriffs deputy and the past year and a half running the county office. The invitation was a dream come true. Only...it wasn’t as simple as that. There were certain realities to be reckoned with.
The first was his mother. If he accepted the position, it would mean moving away again and leaving her on her own. Most likely he’d be working out of Austin or possibly even Dallas again. There was no way he could commute. And even though she seemed to have her diabetes under control—which made it doubtful she’d experience another health crisis like she had years before, bringing him back home—as her only child and last remaining close relative, didn’t he have a responsibility to her to stay?
Then there were the citizens of Briggs County. The dust had barely settled since his election as sheriff, and sheriffs grew old on the job here. He’d known that when he’d let Jack persuade him to throw his hat into the ring as his replacement.
Which brought him to Jack. How would he see the situation? Jack, the old friend who’d done so much to help both Tate and his mother in the years since Dan Connelly’s death.
Tate’s expression tightened as he thought of his father. Integrity and duty had been his watchwords. Not in a fanatical sense, but in the simple way he lived his life. What would he have done if presented with this same choice?
When Tate swung his feet to the floor, he still had no answer for Drew Winslow.
Then another thought pushed past all the others. It, too, was personal—highly personal. Because it involved Jodie Parker. Still as arrogant, still as spoiled, and now, irrefutably, back home.
Tate grabbed the message slip his mother had mentioned, reached for the phone and punched in the number. Work was what he needed. Something to keep his mind off everything else, particularly Jodie Parker.
“Bill Preston, please,” he directed when the ringing telephone was answered. “This is Sheriff Connelly. I’m returnin’ his call.”
A moment later he was speaking to his counterpart in Clayborne County, Colorado.
AS EXPECTED, the return of Jodie’s hair to its natural color was noticed as soon as she and her father presented themselves at the family dinner that evening.
“Showing good sense at last!” Mae declared, the light of victory in her eyes.
“Oh, Jodie!” Harriet cried. “That dark color looked so nice on you!”
“Not that this isn’t better,” Shannon added quickly.
Jodie laughed off all the comments. “I got tired of it,” she dismissed. “Now that I’m back home, I want to be me again.”
“That’s always best,” Mae agreed.
“I wouldn’t want to get lost in the crowd.” Jodie fixed her gaze on her great-aunt. When Mae’s lips thinned, she knew she’d made her point. It was imperative she not let her aunt think she’d won any ground.
Included at dinner that evening were the Hugheses, who lived in Little Springs Division, the closest of the nine divisions or territories, on the ranch. Dub Hughes, retired now, had been foreman at the ranch for most of his sixty-odd years, and he was there with his wife, Delores, as well as the current ranch foreman, his son Morgan Hughes, his son’s wife, Christine, and their fourteen-year-old daughter, Erin. The Parkers and the Hugheses had always been close. Rafe and Morgan had grown up together like brothers, learning to work cattle, learning to run the ranch. The icing on the cake had come when Morgan married Christine, who’d proved to be a Parker herself, much to her surprise. Their union was a perfect blending of the two families, bringing them even closer together.
Fourteen adults and adolescents sat around the dining-room table, while the younger children were served at a small table nearby.
After considerable urging, Jodie shared all she could remember about her trip. What she’d seen and done over the past year, which towns and cities were her favorites, occasionally offering amusing anecdotes about some of the people she’d met. By the end of the meal everyone’s curiosity was exhausted, as was Jodie.
Coffee was served in the living room, and following the custom, the gathering broke into smaller groups, some spilling out onto the front porch. Topics of conversation depended on the makeup of the group. The men talked mostly of weather and ranching, while the women talked of anything but.
It was from the latter group that Jodie learned her Aunt Darlene and Uncle Thomas were off on a cruise to Alaska.
Harriet grinned when she saw Jodie’s surprise. “I know,” she said. “The travel bug really bit Thomas hard. All Darlene has to do is show him a few brochures, he looks at ’em and off they go!”
Jodie shook her head. It was hard to imagine Uncle Thomas setting foot on a cruise ship, much less enjoying it.
“Maybe he decided if you could travel, he could, too.” Shannon laughed.
“Where are the babies?” Harriet asked suddenly, looking around the room.
“I sent them outside with Rafe and LeRoy.” Shannon turned to Jodie. “Did you know that Rafe’s already got Nate started riding a horse? But then, he did the same thing with Ward.”
“You knew he would,” Harriet said.
“I expected it, but—”
“Wesley’s going on the fall roundup,” Harriet offered. “He turns thirteen this summer. Thinks he’s almost grown.”
Jodie’s eyes settled on the tall lanky boy who stood on the other side of the room talking with his younger sister, Gwen, and their cousin Erin. “From the look of him, he is,” she said. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw him earlier.”
“He’s already as tall as his daddy,” Harriet bragged.
“Gwen’s grown a lot, too,” Jodie said.
“I’m starting to feel positively old!” Harriet grumbled good-naturedly. “If it weren’t for little Anna—”
Her words broke off as a very pregnant Christine Hughes joined them. Christine smiled at Jodie, her eyes aglow. “You look wonderful, Jodie,” she said. It was the first time they’d had an opportunity for a personal word.
“I can definitely say the same for you,” Jodie returned. She’d heard that Christine and Morgan were expecting their first child this summer, but she hadn’t known how close to term the pregnancy was. It looked as if the baby could arrive at any moment. “You’re so...” Her mind went blank.
Christine supplied a colorful image of her own. “I look like a watermelon about to explode!”
Jodie grinned. “When’s the baby due?”
“In three weeks.”
Morgan came up behind his wife and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “We’re hopin’ she decides to arrive a little early.”
“She? It’s a girl? You know for sure?” Jodie asked.
Morgan nodded. “My mother thinks it’s terrible. Nature’s supposed to surprise us. But we couldn’t resist when the doctor asked us if we wanted to know.”
“We’re going to name her Elisabeth,” Christine confided. “Spelled with an s. We’ll probably end up calling her Beth.”
“Is Erin excited?” Jodie asked, glancing at the pretty dark-haired teenager across the way.
“She can hardly wait.”
Rafe came into the living room, herding the younger children before him. Little Nate giggled and ran to hide behind Morgan’s legs. Rafe caught up with him and swung the child into his arms. It
was easy to see that the two men were cut from the same cloth. Both were tall and lithe, except where Rafe was dark—dark hair, dark eyes, dangerous edge—Morgan was blond, with pale blue eyes that had a perpetual twinkle.
Mae looked away from her conversation with Gib and the older Hugheses. “Did I hear a car drive up?” she demanded.
Rafe nodded. “That’s what I was comin’ to tell you—we’ve got company.”
The company turned out to be Tate Connelly. When Jodie saw him step into the living room, she experienced the same leap of pulse she had the night before.
Tate was quick to realize what he’d interrupted. “I didn’t mean to intrude on a party,” he said.
His gaze scanned the room until coming to rest on Jodie. For a moment he seemed distracted, then he continued, “I can do this tomorrow. No use botherin’ you all tonight.”
“Nonsense,” Mae declared. “You’ve come too long a way for it not to be important. Rafe? Morgan? Dub? Let’s go to my office.”
Jodie’s accelerated heart rate refused to slow down. Was it the uniform? Crisp and official, a symbol of power? Or was it the man in the uniform, Tate himself?
“I wonder why he didn’t just telephone?” Christine mused once the men had followed Mae down the hall.
Harriet nodded toward Jodie. “Maybe we don’t have to look very far.”
Shannon grinned. “I did notice where his attention lingered.”
“He probably wants to arrest me,” Jodie murmured.
“Or he could be surprised that your hair’s red again. Harriet told me,” Christine explained, since she herself hadn’t seen Jodie with the dark color.
“It could be more than that. Didn’t you have a crush on him a long time ago, Jodie?” Harriet asked, teasing. “Maybe he’s finally come around.”
“I was a kid!” Jodie defended. “Now I’m not. Neither is he.”
“No, he’s a hunk, that’s what he is,” Harriet declared.
Jodie was relieved when Delores Hughes joined their group and turned everyone’s attention to Christine by saying, “If you’re tired, we can leave. No telling what’s going on in there. Rafe can bring Morgan and Dub home later.”
Christine massaged her lower back. “What I’d really like is to sit down for a few minutes.”
Harriet sprang into action, assisting Christine to the nearest chair. “Oh, my heavens! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that! Come over here.”
The children began to make a lot of noise and run about the room. Shannon hurried to control them.
With everyone’s attention elsewhere, Jodie wondered if she could slip out without notice. But before she could put her thought into action, Mae and the men returned—and for some reason they all looked straight at her.
What had she done? She’d just been kidding when she’d said that Tate might be there to arrest her.
“Jodie,” Mae said, “Tate’s come to give us some news. It concerns each of us, but you most of all.”
Jodie felt a swift exchange of looks. Even the children grew quiet.
Tate’s lean face was well schooled. “I’ve come to ask you to keep an eye out for someone. A cowboy who used to work on your ranch. He’s wanted for questioning in the beating of the nineteen-year-old daughter of a rancher up in Colorado. The girl’s lost the baby she was carryin’, and it seems to be touch-and-go for her, too. The sheriff up there is notifying all the places this cowboy’s ever worked to be on the lookout for him. His name’s—” a pause “—Rio Walsh.”
CHAPTER FOUR
A SENSATION like raw electricity shot through Jodie as her gaze clung to Tate’s.
“Rio!” The name moved across the room like rolling thunder.
Gib, Harriet, LeRoy, Shannon—their shock quickly gave way, and almost as one their attention jerked to Jodie to see how she’d taken the news.
“Rio?” she breathed in disbelief.
Tate nodded.
“But...but that’s not possible,” she said.
His expression hardened. “I’m afraid it is.”
“Jodie!” Mae exclaimed. “How can you say that? After the way he treated you!”
“He...Rio just wouldn’t do that!” Jodie said. “Get her pregnant, yes. But not—That’s not the way he is! He’d never hit a woman, much less beat her.”
“How can you know what he’d do?” Mae demanded harshly. “You misjudged him from the get-go, if I remember right. Which I do. And it’s been years since—”
“Yes, it has,” Jodie shot back. “I tried to tell you that earlier!”
“I warned him not to show his face in Texas again,” Rafe said evenly, breaking into the disagreement. “And I didn’t put a time limit on it. He knows better than to come back here.” Rafe was a hard man, accustomed to having his words heeded, particularly by someone who’d had the bad judgment to harm a member of his family.
“I still have to pass the information along,” Tate said. “Sheriff Preston reckons he’ll head for familiar territory.”
“Well, he won’t find any comfort here!” Mae declared. “Not from any of us. We’ll turn him in faster’n a snake can blink.”
Tate nodded as murmurs of agreement came from around the room.
“I still don’t believe it,” Jodie said stubbornly, setting her jaw.
“Not from any of us!” Mae snapped, her angry gaze fixed on Jodie.
Tate’s attention also fell on Jodie. In response she lifted her chin. Then something happened she hadn’t expected: he smiled at her. A small smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.
Mae broke the silence. “Have you had dinner yet, Tate? I’m sure Marie can make you up a nice plate.”
Tate flashed his smile again, this time including everyone. “No, thanks, Miss Parker. My mom’s expecting me for dinner tonight.”
Mae nodded approval. Familial togetherness was one of her highest priorities. No matter how small the family. “And how’s your mother doing?” she asked. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen her, but she looked all hale and hearty when I did.”
“She’s doin’ just fine, Miss Parker. I’ll tell her you asked.”
“Do that. And tell her I’ll stop by the station the next time I’m in town and say hello.”
Tate nodded, gave a slightly awkward salute, then left the house.
“Such a nice boy,” Mae commented as the patrol car pulled away.
“He’s not exactly a boy, Aunt Mae,” Harriet said.
“From my perspective he is.”
From Jodie’s perspective too much was happening in too short a time. Her journey home, her reckoning with Mae, her first steps toward readjustment to life on the Parker Ranch. She’d been away for long months. Now she was home, yet not at home, just as in some strange way she’d never been completely “at home” here. She was the odd person out in the Parker clan, both in looks and in attitude. Very much a Parker, but different. Wanting to be different.
When the get-together broke up, Jodie tried to slip out with Harriet and her brood, but she didn’t get farther than the porch.
“A word, Jodie,” Mae commanded.
Jodie shifted the sleepy little girl she’d been carrying into LeRoy’s arms and waited as Mae moved to stand beside her at the railing.
“A private word,” she qualified, waving Gib on when he paused on the steps. “I won’t keep her long.”
Sounds carried easily in the night. Muted words and childish laughter drifted from the other houses on the cool breeze, as did the chirp of crickets and the sharp cry of a hunting bird.
Mae remained quiet, listening. Then she stirred. “I love this place, Jodie,” she confessed softly. “I love it like it was a living-breathing thing. All my life it’s been like a mother and a father to me. Whenever I have doubts, I go to the land. I touch it, I feel it, I rub it into my skin so I can make the connection. Parker land, Parker blood. Can you understand that?”
Jodie shrugged and looked away.
Mae sighed. “One day you
will. At least, I hope you will. I don’t understand what’s happened to you, Jodie. Why you don’t—”
“I really am tired, Aunt Mae,” Jodie cut in. “I should go to bed. So if you don’t mind—”
“I meant what I said about Rio,” Mae interrupted sharply. “That girl could’ve been you!”
Jodie shook her head. “I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. I didn’t get pregnant!”
“But for the grace of God!” Then, seeming to realize that their discussion had taken an unintended turn, Mae reverted to her previous reflection. “I don’t want you to get hurt again, Jodie, that’s all. That’s why I—”
“It’s like Rafe said, Aunt Mae. Rio knows better than to come back to Texas, much less this ranch, because if he does, he’ll have Rafe after him, too. Not just Tate and that sheriff up in Colorado.” She paused, searching for a way out of the uncomfortable discussion, and in the end fell back on humor. “And you! Sometimes I think Rio was more afraid of you than he was of anyone else.”
Her great-aunt’s dark eyes glimmered with satisfaction. “He had good reason,” she said gruffly. “He still does.”
JODIE KISSED her father good-night as they parted in the hallway. While preparing for bed she could barely keep her eyes open, but once she was stretched out between the sheets, sleep seemed a distant hope. Her thoughts continued to chum.
She’d been “in love”—infatuation, attraction, flirting, having fun—a number of times over the years. Men liked her and she liked them. But only twice had she ever been in what she termed love—where her emotions had been deeply touched—and the first time didn’t really count because she’d been so young. The second had counted, though. She’d truly believed herself ready to spend her life with a man—Rio Walsh.
Texas Lawman Page 4
