Show Me a Family for Christmas : Small-Town Single-Father Cowboy Romance (Cowboy Crossing Romances Book 6)
Page 13
Inside, the restaurant smelled of barbecue ribs, french fries, and onion rings, the aromas hearty and homey. His stomach perked up at the prospect of being filled with the source of those scents. Holly displays still decorated tables, and soft carols drifted from speakers while the waitress took them to a vacant table.
He already knew Gwendolyn preferred to sit with her back to the wall, and he was right.
Yes, the Christmas season was about the birth of Christ, the most amazing gift from God, about grace and salvation. Annika had reminded him about it often. Still, all the years after Annika’s death, he couldn’t rejoice during this most wonderful time of the year, couldn’t believe in God’s miracles....
But this holiday season had become different. One of such miracles was right in front of his eyes. The miracle that would disappear in a week, however, and air whooshed from his lungs at the thought.
“Thank you.” He took the menus from the waitress and handed one to Gwendolyn.
“Thanks. I’d like sweet tea with no sugar, please.” Her gaze roamed the room as if she memorized every detail.
He asked for caramel macchiato, and the waitress left.
Gwendolyn’s eyes turned pensive as she folded and unfolded the napkin. “I’m trying my best to find the answers in my father’s murder.”
He asked the most logical question, though she’d most likely asked herself that many times already. “Who could be interested in his death?”
She sighed as she studied the table as if she could find the answers on its holly-patterned tablecloth. “That’s the thing. His profession was a dangerous one. Several times, he protected people from someone who had a grudge against them. I imagine, every time that ‘someone’ wasn’t happy.”
As she was looking down, her sun-kissed curls tumbled over her face, and her feathery soft lashes hid her beautiful eyes.
He barely resisted the urge to reach out and move aside the stray strands. He could imagine her skin to be smooth to the touch, and as his pulse spiked, concentrating on the conversation grew more difficult. “Okay. So they could develop a new grudge, this time against your father, shifting the blame onto him. Do you happen to have their names?”
She leaned back as the waitress brought their drinks, then took their orders, including his chicken wing takeout for Daisy.
Once the waitress left, Gwendolyn drew circles with her index finger on the tablecloth. The glass with her tea remained untouched so far. “I know a few cases, but I’m sure I don’t know about just as many other cases.” The circles she drew became abstract as her fingers trembled.
Compassion twisted his heart. This was difficult for her, and he ached to take her hands in his to show tangible support. He sipped his hot and flavorful drink to stop himself from reaching out to her. “That’s a start.”
Then she looked up. “Well, there’s a guy named Ron Amspoker. He was an obsessive ex-husband who tried to shoot his ex-wife, a woman my father worked as a bodyguard for. She already took out a restraining order on Amspoker, but the man didn’t get the message. When his plan failed, he shouted threats at my dad.”
Conner brightened, sitting up straighter. “That’s something already. Did the police check his alibi?”
She nibbled on her lower lip, and that drew his attention to her mouth, covered in shiny lip gloss. Looking at it caused all those unnecessary thoughts about kissing her. Argh. “Yeah. He had an alibi at the time.”
Disappointment crumpled her lovely face, and this time he couldn’t resist. He covered her hand with his, and pleasant tingles traveled along his skin from touching her hand.
Her eyes widening, she looked up at him, and her pink lips parted. But she didn’t remove her hand, and a joyful jolt shot straight to his heart.
Did she still feel the same attraction toward him that he felt toward her? Did she think about a kiss? How could a man think rationally in a situation like this?
He did his best to gather his thoughts before they ran away like spooked horses. “Um, I heard sometimes alibis can’t be relied on. Some people don’t tell the truth when they vouch they were with the suspect when the crime was committed.” He paused as he stroked her smooth, long fingers ever so slightly and was glad to hear her breathing quicken. “Granted, my knowledge is limited to TV crime dramas.”
“Well...” She looked at their hands together on the table, then into his eyes, then at their hands again. “What were we talking about? Oh, right. Ron Amspoker had a strong alibi. He was in prison for aggravated assault causing bodily harm to his new girlfriend. I think the guards and cameras there can be trusted.”
Huh. One couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t try.
The scents of barbecue and potatoes drifted to him as the waitress brought their order. Her cheeks pinking, Gwendolyn pulled her hand back, and he missed her warmth immediately.
As soon as the waitress left, Gwendolyn bowed her head and whispered grace.
After a hesitation, he said a half-hearted amen.
He hadn’t regained his faith, but he started leaning in that direction. Amazing to think that, after everything that had happened to Gwendolyn, she remained a believer. She’d never preached to him, but simply seeing her example affected him.
He started on his barbecue ribs. But even yummy food couldn’t distract him from the way the dim restaurant light played in her eyes, calling to him on a level that didn’t seem possible. He had difficulty remembering what they had talked about.
Oh yes. Why, again, did he have the bright idea to talk about her father’s murder on a date he’d wanted to be romantic and memorable for her? But he had to continue what he’d started. “What about other suspects?”
She sighed again, digging into her salad. “The second one had an even stronger alibi.” She made sure to keep her voice low, though there weren’t patrons right near them.
“Really?”
“He was dead at the time.”
Chapter Fifteen
Conner’s hand with the rib stilled midair. “Huh.”
“Anyway, according to Uncle John, my father’s friend and colleague, the police didn’t work too much on that version.” Gwendolyn grimaced. “They thought my father wouldn’t have gone to meet someone he couldn’t trust in a deserted area in the middle of the night. I did find out that Amspoker asked one of the women who’d visited him in prison to meet with my father. She said she’d refused, and she had an alibi for the time of the murder. I asked Vera to verify that.”
He hoped her facial expression wasn’t an indication of how their date was going. “Okay, I see. It’s a good thing being an investigator isn’t my day job.” The taste in his mouth turned bitter, and he did his best to chase it away with sweet caramel macchiato.
“No, that was a good question. Motive is important. Dad used to say that, with enough motive, people would find the opportunity. Or as the famous saying goes—where there’s a will there’s a way.” Her mirthless chuckle fell flat as she savagely poked at her garden salad. “If you wonder who’d benefit from his death financially, that would be me.”
Well, great. He frowned. He was losing his appetite, and she was massacring an innocent salad. Some date. This wasn’t a fresh, romantic start he hoped for. “Maybe all this wasn’t such a great idea.”
“I later found out the police suspected me. But once they had proof I stayed in the restaurant where several people saw me while my father was killed, they let that version go too.”
He pushed his half-empty plate aside, and she followed his gesture with a longing look. On a hunch, he opened the plastic container with the chicken wings he’d ordered for Daisy, glad he’d ordered extra.
“Please help yourself.” He recalled the case with Danica. “They are barbecue. Not extra spicy.”
She hesitated, then reached out for one with her fork. “Thanks.” She cut it awkwardly.
“I don’t know why, but ribs and chicken wings taste better when I eat them with my hands.” He showed an example.
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nbsp; She brightened. “You know what? You’re right.” She started on the chicken wing with gusto, dipped it in the ranch sauce, and then even licked her fingers.
Blood rushed faster in his veins. Back to the case!
He took a deep breath of air filled with yummy scents.
What were they talking about?
Right.
“What about John? I’m sure your father would go to meet him, considering he was a friend and trusted partner. Did John benefit in any way?”
She wiped her hands on a napkin, lifted her tea glass, and studied him over the rim, her eyes sad. “Yes.” She sipped her tea and set it back down. “His caseload became higher.”
“Therefore, the profit margin, too.” A pang sliced into him.
Man, he was bungling things tonight. He shouldn’t have brought that up. By the looks of it, she needed to trust the guy, and it didn’t seem like her circle of trust was big enough it could afford to shrink. Especially considering Conner had deceived her, too, by keeping his relationship to the Clarks secret so long.
Pain flashed in her eyes, and his guilt sliced even deeper this time. She tapped a sticky finger against her glass, smudging it. “You’re right. But I’m sure the police checked his alibi. I’ll talk to Vera about this angle. I was thinking about something else. That rebellious teen girl Dad was guarding in his last assignment... Brea seemed too compliant with what essentially was house arrest.”
“You think she might’ve played a role? But isn’t murder too drastic a method to get rid of him? Besides, one bodyguard could be replaced with another one.” He pushed the wing container closer to her. He could easily order Daisy another one.
“She could’ve been desperate enough. Addiction is a strong motive. The girl’s father, Dad’s client, vouched for her, but he might’ve done it to protect his daughter. Then again, after Dad died, Mr. Cohen hired a new bodyguard for the girl, just like you said. So there goes that motive.” She rubbed her face, smearing a bit of the barbecue sauce. “Either way, we can’t ask Brea because she died from an overdose eight years after my father was shot.” She paused. “But why would Dad go to meet with her in a deserted place?”
“She could’ve devised some plan to lure him in. Though I have no clue what that plan could’ve been.” He had no clue how to think straight when Gwendolyn occupied his mind, either. “What about the girl’s father, your dad’s client?”
“I thought about it. That my father could’ve overheard something in the house that he shouldn’t have.” She rubbed her temples. “Vera is working that angle already. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
That speck of barbecue sauce in the corner of her mouth created unwanted thoughts. Was it his imagination, or did they crank up the heat in this place?
He snatched a napkin and handed it to her. “You have some barbecue sauce on your face.”
“Here?” She took the napkin and touched her cheek with it.
“Um, you missed it by an inch or so.” Without a doubt, someone raised the temperature in the room. Staring at her mouth so much was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all.
“Here?” Her hand moved away from the speck.
Oh, for crying out loud!
If he looked at her mouth a moment longer, he’d never be able to stop thinking about kissing her.
He snatched another napkin and brushed it against her skin. Though innocent, the touch still sent a delightful wave through him. “Right... Right here.”
A pinkish hue tinted her face. “Th–thank you.”
He should’ve asked for ice water instead of caramel macchiato because the heat kept rising while Gwendolyn surely had no idea what turmoil she created inside him.
Their gazes met and held, and he felt like they were the only people in the world instead of a single couple in a restaurant becoming more crowded by the moment. His heartbeat went staccato. How would it feel to draw her close and brush his lips against hers, first slowly, then...
She looked away first and fiddled with the napkin again. “You must be wondering why I started looking into my father’s death twenty-five years later.”
He shifted back. That wasn’t what he was wondering, but okay. He’d take any distraction. “The car that looks like your father’s? The strange messages you’re receiving?”
“Yes. Hearing the band he loved. Receiving a card with his favorite football team. I even got a phone call with a male voice calling me by the nickname my father gave me.”
His eyes narrowed. It was worse than he’d thought. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
She sighed. “Some people think they see a ghost of a person. I see a ghost of a car, apparently. I’m not going crazy. These things are happening.”
“I know. I’ve seen the car. I heard the music. Besides, I’d believe you even if I hadn’t.” He’d need to spend more time with her and be on the lookout for anything suspicious. Yet... he couldn’t leave Daisy alone either, could he? But Gwendolyn shouldn’t be alone with this happening.
“I’m amazed a wonderful woman like you is still single,” he blurted out.
Real smooth, man.
He nearly slapped himself on the forehead. His dating skills weren’t just rusty—they were corroded through. Even the horses would snicker or nicker or whicker at him if they heard him right now. He took a sip of his sweet drink to hide his faux pas.
But Gwendolyn gave a half shrug, obviously letting the remark slide. “Thank you for calling me wonderful. Dad didn’t have a clue how to raise a daughter, so he raised me like a son. A son who’d take after him. He taught me martial arts, marksmanship, defensive driving, and alertness in all circumstances. Boys treated me like one of the guys. And then...” She paused, her eyes becoming misty as if she were remembering something that caused her pain.
He resisted the urge to grind his teeth and wished he could ask one of his half brothers how to talk to a woman. They should know. They all seemed happily married now.
After Annika’s death, he’d never imagined he’d remarry, couldn’t think he’d care for someone enough to risk the pain of possibly losing her.
But he cared about Gwendolyn already. He didn’t know how to say it, so he simply reached out and touched the outline of her face with his fingertips, trying to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted to take away whatever made her suffer.
She gave a sharp intake of breath as her hazel eyes grew big and liquid like the amber tea in front of her.
He removed his hand, though he was eager to bring her closer. “You don’t have to talk about it if it’s difficult.”
“The evening my father died... He wanted to spend it with me. Instead, I went on a date with a guy I just met.” Her lips trembled, and her eyes dulled.
“So you blame yourself?” His heart sank. “Please don’t. The only one at fault is the person who pulled the trigger.”
“Well, I didn’t date for a while after that. Years later, my neighbor seemed very much into me. We started dating, then got engaged. He had a great family, too. I heard jokes about mothers-in-law, but his mother treated me like the daughter she never had. He even had two adorable cats.”
“The cats were important?” He raised an eyebrow.
Her lips twitched as she pushed the plate away. “Very. I felt I’d started healing. I’d found the people I belonged with. But it turned out to be the classic old story. Two weeks before the wedding, I discovered he was cheating on me with my friend—my maid of honor.”
He felt like punching the guy. “It’s his loss. Sorry that happened to you.”
Okay, maybe not too sorry. She deserved better than a man who’d deceive her.
Great, that guilt just wouldn’t stop needling him. Conner had deceived her, too.
“Thank you.” She drained her tea as if suddenly very thirsty. “In the end, it might’ve been for the better. I realized I missed his mother and, well, the cats more than I missed him. Sometimes loneliness can make us do the wrong things.
I ignored the signs when he canceled our dates at the last moment or stepped out to take calls. I craved having a family so much that I persuaded myself I was in love with the guy who could offer it to me. From then on, I decided never to be with someone to escape loneliness. I learned honesty in a relationship is essential.”
He took in a deep breath of air filled with the scents of barbecue and freshly baked bread. “I’ll never deceive you again.”
She stared at him as if deciding whether to believe him. “I’m going to leave soon.”
His heart sank. “I’d like to see you before then. As much as possible.” For more reasons than one. “Daisy wants to see the ponies tomorrow. Join us, please.”
Gwendolyn’s lips curved up. “I do miss her. And... I’ll miss you. Liberty is taking the children to the Children’s Museum in the afternoon, so I’m free. I do have a meeting with my friend to discuss the investigation in the evening. But I can see you and Daisy tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yes!” He grinned, his chest swelling.
Her phone beeped as if with an incoming text.
“Please feel free to check it. It might be important.” Though he didn’t want the evening to end, he gestured for the bill to the waitress.
Gwendolyn fished out her phone from her purse, and her eyes widened as she opened the text.
The air whooshed from his overfilled lungs, but he didn’t ask her about what she’d read.
She volunteered that information. “I don’t get it. It says, ‘Your time is almost up. If you don’t tell, I will.’”
Chapter Sixteen
Conner kept his daughter close to him at the stable the next day, holding her hand tightly to make sure nothing happened to her.
Daisy looked around with big eyes, her mouth forming a perfect O. She looked extra cute in a pink helmet he’d bought her and tiny pink-embroidered cowboy boots. “Daddy, they are awesome. Can I pet them?”