The Lawman's Apache Moon (Texas Lawmen Book 2)

by Debra Holt

  Jace threw his head back and laughed. He had to catch the phone before it fell to the floor. “I won’t ask what’s for dessert.”

  “And I won’t tell you,” Clay replied smoothly. “By the way, I hear that we’ll be up your way in a few weeks. We’ll all have to get together for dinner.”

  Jace’s body grew still. “That sounds great. But what’s bringing you to Santa Fe?”

  “The splashy opening of Angelina Lord’s newest store, of course. Kaitlyn has talked about nothing else for the last couple of hours. The four of us will have to get together. I’ll give you a call when we get there.”

  The omelet did not get eaten. Jace hung up from Clay and sat on the bar stool and stared at the plate. His appetite was no longer a chief concern. He had not counted on the possibility of seeing Angie again. Sure, he knew at some point she would be back in town. She had a business to keep an eye on. He had just not counted on it being so soon. He really hadn’t counted on his friend Clay and his wife… who just happened to be best friends with Angie… to become involved in the mix.

  This was going to get worse before it got better. He planned on going to bed, but instead of heading toward the bedroom, his feet carried him in the direction of the room behind the garage… to his studio. An easel stood in the far corner and a sheet covered the canvas beneath it. In the first few days after Angie left, he had fought the urge that had plagued him since returning from the mountain with her. He had been too angry and hurt, but the urge would not be denied.

  He had put brush to canvas one evening. The image on his mind had come through the brush and onto the canvas in flowing strokes. There were still some touches that needed to be added. He tried to stay out of this room, but it drew him back time and again. For the first time, he tried to ignore the creative urges that filled his senses, but they would not sit quietly. He reached for a brush. Perhaps if he finished the thing, he would be purged of the need.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jace had managed to sidestep his family’s many questions about Angie’s absence from their Sunday dinners. Even the nephews voiced disappointment when he would drive up and they didn’t see their “cool for a girl” aunt next to him. There had been disappointment on all their faces. He had been fairly certain they bought the fact that her work was at a critical time period. Jace reminded them that Angelina Lord was a high fashion designer with a lot of pressure on her at the moment. His aunt simply looked at him with her quietly irritating gaze. The same one he had inherited from her side of the family. Now he could fully appreciate how it made people feel when he used it on them.

  On this particular Sunday, Marita bounced into the kitchen with a magazine in hand. Jace had been trying to concentrate on the card game he was engaged in with his nephews and their father. That was until the magazine, a nationally recognized newsmagazine, landed on the table right in front of him. Angelina Lord Sets Her Sights on the West. The headline was emblazoned across the full cover photo of her as she strode down a red-carpeted runway, dressed in a black gown of iridescent beading, from the plunging vee of the neckline to the side slit of the skirt. Her hair was tossed back from her shoulders and she looked like a model herself as the camera caught the grace of her movement and the emerald clarity of her eyes. Angie in her element. His heart lurched in his chest. He was only vaguely aware of chairs being scraped back and people coming to lean over his shoulders.

  “Wow! That’s our aunt! Can we take this to show our friends?” His nephews piped up and were quickly hushed.

  “You may not,” their mother responded. “It’s going to the shop with me so I can show all my friends. It will make them green with envy when they see my gorgeous sister-in-law. I just wish they had mentioned her married name.”

  Jace could feel the small censure and his sister’s eyes upon his bowed head. He kept his focus on the photo in front of him. If he thought for one second that his heart had been on its way to getting over her… this was proof-positive he was a fool. The pain and longing came flooding from his heart where he had tried hiding them but they were just as fresh, perhaps even sharper than when she had left. His mouth thinned into a grim line.

  “What’s all the fuss about in here?” His aunt’s voice broke the group up a bit. She moved to stand next to her nephew, her eyes moving over the magazine front. Then she spoke.

  “Marita, I need you to go to the store and pick up some flour for me. I feel like making some bread this afternoon. You boys need to go outside and play. I need my kitchen table.”

  Jace sat a moment longer at the table before he rose to follow the others. He had a hard time making his eyes leave the photo cover. He was half out of his chair when his aunt’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  “Not you, Jason.”

  He was on alert now. She only used “Jason” in that tone, on those occasions when a lecture or reprimand was coming his way. He sank back into the chair.

  The woman pulled out a chair across from him and sat down, her hands clasped on the table top. They were alone. Her gaze forced his up to meet hers.

  “I sent them all away so you and I could have a chat.”

  “A chat?”

  “About this.” One long finger reached out to tap the image on the magazine cover. “About her… your wife.”

  “Aunt Victoria, I don’t think—” He got no further.

  “That is correct, you do not think.” Her voice was low yet it went straight to the heart of the matter. “What sort of husband is it that allows his wife to leave his side and be away for so long? And what sort of wife would want to be away from her husband’s side for so long?”

  “Times are not the same for marriages these days, Aunt. Careers take people in different directions more often than not. Wives have careers outside the home.”

  “That is a subject for another day and time. What careers have done to the fabric of family life in our country… don’t get me started. I’m concerned with what is going on here in this family right now. I know your wife is gone. I know that you are not a whole man anymore. I have felt the story between you and she has not fully been shared with me. It is time you tell me the whole truth.”

  The time of reckoning had come. As much as he wanted to share the burden that was on his heart with this woman who had served as his mother since he was very young, he found it difficult to bare the wounds.

  “Angie will not be coming back to live in Santa Fe. Our paths were not meant to be together. That is something I cannot change.”

  His aunt sat for a few moments in silence as she digested his words. “Would you want to change it?”

  Her words surprised him and caught him off guard. He had not voiced that question even to himself. He didn’t have to give it much consideration.

  “Yes. But there is just too much that has passed between us. Angie left after I hurt her when she asked me to do something for her. I failed her.”

  Now the woman’s eyes zeroed in on his. “Tell me everything. A fresh set of ears can often hear more than a heart buried under the weight of so much pain.”

  Jace began at the beginning with the hotel and the hastily arranged marriage and their reasoning for it all. He continued right up to the day in his office… about the children. And he repeated the words that Angie had spoken about her own life. He also gave examples of the times he had found an infinite sadness lurking in her eyes. Yet he had also seen moments of happiness there as well. That had given him hope that she was coming to care about life with him and their family, but if she had cared… she would not have walked away.

  His aunt said nothing. She did not interrupt him. When he had finished, she looked down at her hands for several long moments. She then stood and walked over to the coffeemaker. After she had poured a cup of coffee for him, and a cup of tea for herself, she returned to her seat at the table. All the while, Jace sat and waited, his heart laid bare, his emotions drained.

  “Angelina did not walk away,” the woman began. “She ran away.”
<
br />   “From what? Why couldn’t she understand I had a job to do? I couldn’t take those children into our home without the law giving me the right.”

  “Those children were a catalyst, Jason. They were her… just as she said. She knew better than you or even the social worker what the future might hold for them. She knew because she had walked that path herself. It was a lonely and hard one. She only wanted to protect them from the same fate. The day you brought her here, I observed her. I saw the look in her eyes as she watched the interactions between us… the way her eyes consumed the photos on the bookshelves in the den. She was a part of the group, yet not as a participant… as an observer. If you are an observer, your emotions do not need to become invested. Because once they do, then your heart is opened to more possible pain. Angelina has learned to guard her heart well… until you.”

  A light was beginning to dawn in the recesses of his mind. Observer… outsider. Could it be that simple? Yet why couldn’t he have seen it?

  “Think back to those days when you were with your mother… before you came to be with us,” his aunt continued.

  Jace tried to not think about that time. The pain was like a sharp knife.

  “You were lost and afraid and felt you had no one to turn to. Yet we came and found you. Angelina had to have felt much the same, but no one came for her. You mentioned she said something about damaged goods. I should think that is how she saw herself as a child. That may even be how she still sees herself today.” His aunt nodded her head once again toward the magazine photo. “She has turned a brave smile to the world, to protect herself from a world that might not accept her if they knew she was in any way different from the rest of them. You brought her here and she saw how a family loves and respects each other and thrives.”

  Jace tried to digest each word she spoke. As he did, so much began to make sense for him. The puzzle pieces he had collected through the days with her fell into place. What a blind idiot he had been! Yet, still, when she had needed him the most, he had failed her.

  “How can I bring her back? How can I make her see she does belong? She won’t even take my phone calls.”

  “You really think you could get her back with a phone call?” Her words were an admonishment in their tone. “Listen to your heart. It will have to be your heart that speaks to hers. Her heart must guide her path back to you.”

  Jace stood. He had a mountain ahead of him, but there was a light now to guide him. He stopped next to his aunt’s chair and bent to place a kiss on her forehead.

  “You are wise as always, my aunt. I don’t care what Uncle says.” He sidestepped the quick swat of her hand with a grin and quick hug.

  Her eyes fell to the photo. She sent a silent prayer across the miles. The reply brought a soft smile to her heart.

  *

  Three weeks had passed since Jace had sat across from his Aunt Victoria. Her wisdom had fueled the fire within him for the plans he set in motion. He no longer stayed at his desk long hours into the night. He welcomed the time to go home and to stand before that same canvas he had once avoided. When it was completed, he hung it over the fireplace in the living room. The other painting had been taken down for its own journey. His demeanor had changed also… much to the appreciation of his coworkers.

  The next phase of his plan took a bit more work. He had favors to call in and he used every single one of them. In the end, he had found a home that would be secure for Ricky and his sister, Emily. Jace knew the couple. They had wanted children for quite some time but the doctors told them they would never be able to have their own. It was a home he knew Angie would welcome for them.

  Adoption waitlists were years long, but when they heard about the little pair, they agreed to go with Jace and meet them. It had been love at first sight on their part. Ricky and Emily were no longer apart. The courts would place them together and if things continued as they looked to do, the four of them would be a permanent family. Finally, the time had arrived for the final phase of his plan.

  *

  Fall Fashion Week had come and gone. Everyone was exhausted… but it was a good exhaustion. The reviews had been superlative in their reports about the creations from the House of Lord, as one fashion critic had dubbed it. Angelina allowed herself a moment or two… maybe a day or two… to bask in the glory. Then her thoughts had turned to the west. In one week, she would be on a plane bound for Santa Fe. The fashions had already been shipped, the models chosen, the invitations issued. Carrie reported every invitee had returned an affirmative response. Not only the glittering of Santa Fe would be in attendance, but clients were flying in from across the country and beyond.

  Angie chalked up the butterflies inside her stomach to the fact that a new collection was about to be presented. That was how her mind rationalized it… but her heart knew better. There was a moment or two in each hour when she contemplated the question of whether Jace might make an appearance in the crowd, but she knew better. Almost three months had passed and not a word from him. Of course, she had made sure of that. He had gotten the message loud and clear. He didn’t care to dispute it. Instead, she focused on the fact she would be seeing her best friend, Kaitlyn, and that brought a smile to Angie’s face and lifted her heavy heart.

  Angie would fly to Santa Fe on Monday, which left one week to tie up the rest of the items on her desk. It was late afternoon by the time her driver dropped her at the entrance of her apartment building. The drizzle had turned into a steady rain. There was a hint of chill in the air. Martin, the doorman, opened her car door. Angie stepped out and thanked him for the umbrella he held over her head. They moved quickly inside the lobby.

  Angie walked to the bank of elevators and tapped the button for her floor. His voice brought her attention back to him. “A delivery came earlier, Miss Lord. I sent it up.”

  “Thank you, Martin.” She stepped into the small cubicle and was soon deposited on the penthouse floor. Angie inserted the key into the lock and stepped through. A familiar smell met her. Alice Patton, the woman who came twice a week, must have made some of her fresh homemade vegetable soup. She often would do that even though she wasn’t employed to cook. When Angie would remind her of that fact, she simply brushed it off with a smile and words to the effect that since her own nest was empty; she cooked too much for her and her husband. The soup would be perfect on a dreary day like this one. Angie went straight through to the kitchen.

  “I thought I smelled something wonderful,” she said, grinning at the woman giving a final stir of the liquid.

  “This is a good day for soup. I’m glad you’re home earlier than usual today. Maybe you can eat something and relax for a change.”

  “That is your kind way of telling me that I need to put on some weight.” Angie threw her a grin as she reached for a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The woman had made more than one reference to the fact that since she had returned home from her trip, she was looking a little peaked at times. Angie let her attribute it to the hours she had put in at work since her return. Her appetite had been off but not for that reason. Nothing much interested her of late except her work.

  “A few pounds would do you no harm. I just hope you aren’t trying to look like those models that wear your clothing.”

  Angie gave her a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I would never be able to look like them if I starved for a month.”

  Alice spooned the broth with its vegetables into a soup bowl. She was ready to set it on a tray but Angie waved her off.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll just carry it myself and eat it while I watch the news. You need to head home before the weather gets worse. Don’t forget that I’ll be gone next week. I have to go back west… to Santa Fe.” She picked up the bowl and turned to move into the next room.

  “Oh my.” Alice spoke up. “I almost forgot. A man delivered a rather large package for you today. I had him place it in the den.”

  Angie recalled the doorman’s words from earlier. “A large package? Any i
dea where it came from?” Her office wouldn’t be sending anything large to her home.

  “I don’t know where it’s from, but maybe it came from Santa Fe. The man who brought it certainly looked like someone who could come from the west. He was certainly something I must say.”

  Angie stopped dead in her tracks. It couldn’t be. Her mind was running through names and faces that it could possibly be. But nothing clicked… except one.

  “What makes you think the man was from the west?” Angie’s voice was a trifle unsteady. Her hands gripped the sides of the bowl they held as she waited for the woman to continue.

  “Well, he looked like it. Very tall, he had those cowboy boots on, and a cowboy hat. Although I would venture to say that he struck me more as a Native American Indian than a cowboy, I think… Miss Angie!”

  Alice’s outburst coincided with the crash of the bowl at Angie’s feet. The yelp was automatic when the hot liquid splattered against her bare ankle. In a flash, Alice grabbed a couple of dish towels and tried to blot the liquid from the floor. Angie reached for a paper towel from the counter beside her and tried to dab the liquid off her skin and help with the mess she had created on the floor.

  “Are you alright? Did you burn yourself?” Alice’s eyes looked over at Angie. “You’ve gone pale.”

  “No… I’m fine. I am so sorry.” Angie spoke up, her voice finding itself.

  Her hands were shaking. It had to have been Jace. Jace had been here, in her apartment. Where was he now? That brought her head up quickly. She stood.

  “Did he leave? Did he say anything? Is he still here?” Angie was already moving toward the den. Alice was close behind her.

  “He isn’t here. He just set the package down and left when I told him you weren’t here.”

  Angie entered the room where the package lay on the large round table in front of the fireplace. The size stirred something in her mind. Her fingers flew to the paper. In a swift move, she tore one large swath of the packaging away. A streak of color met her gaze. Her heart was in her throat. Her fingers grabbed and tore off the rest of the paper. She took a step back. Her eyes could not believe what they saw.