“Oh.” She stepped away from him quickly as she realized how close she was. “I was just waiting for Dr. Eames.” Dr. Janet Eames was a gynecologist and head of a women’s center connected with the hospital. Becky was her physician’s assistant and a breast cancer advocate, since her mother had died from breast cancer.
“I—I have to go. Hope the baby’s okay.”
As she turned away, he couldn’t resist. “Bec, could we talk?” For almost eighteen years he’d been asking her that question and always gotten the same answer. It wasn’t going to be any different today, but he kept trying. He should get points for that.
At a glance he could see the worry replaced by a blazing fury, and it was directed straight at him. “No, we have nothing to talk about. We’ve talked it to death and for me it’s over. It’s time you realized that.”
As he watched her sashay down the hall, a white medical jacket over her scrubs, he knew she was right. He’d burned his bridges with Becky, but he’d walk through hell to get back to her.
With a deep sigh he swung around to face another angry woman—his lieutenant. His teammates stood behind her. This just wasn’t his day. He’d disobeyed a direct order and from the look on her face she was ready to tear a strip off of him a mile wide. But he’d do it all over again for that little girl.
Almost four years later…
“GOODNIGHT, MY OFFICE!” Lieutenant Haskins’s voice blasted through the intercom as Bo pulled a black T-shirt over his head. He’d just finished his shift and was ready to go home and sleep a few hours before he returned. His teammates stopped what they were doing and looked at him.
“What did you do now, Sarge?” Cruz asked. Bo was now leader of the team under the lieutenant and the commander.
“I’m sure one of you did something wrong,” he replied in a good-natured way. “And I’m supposed to explain your actions.”
“I’ll pray for your soul,” Preacher said as he picked up his carryall and headed for the door. Everyone laughed. Bo made his way to the lieutenant’s office.
He walked in and stood at attention with his hands behind his back, waiting for her to speak. She took her time writing in a file. In her forties, her brown hair was cut in a short, no-fuss style. On her left hand was a gold wedding band, no frills for the lieutenant.
She was as straitlaced as they came and held everyone accountable for their actions. Blue blood ran in her family—her dad was a cop, her brother was a cop and her husband was head of Vice. She closed the file and raised her head. Displeasure emanated from her cool green eyes. Nope. This wasn’t about the team. It was about him personally.
“As of today you are on a one-week vacation.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Goodnight.”
“May I ask why?”
“It has come to my attention and the commander’s that you haven’t had a day off in two months. You’ve been taking other cops’ shifts. You took Beal’s duties on the night shift twice, each for four days. That meant you were working twenty-four hours around the clock and that is unacceptable. From now on, your shifts will be monitored by me.”
“Come on, Lieutenant, I was just helping some guys out. There are a lot of family things like weddings, births and deaths. The guys like to be there for those.”
The lieutenant got to her feet, her eyes as cool as metal. “That is not your concern. They can ask for time off when these things happen. I didn’t expect this from you, Goodnight. You’re a sergeant now and second in command under me. You have to be mentally focused and physically fit to control a scene, and a sleep-deprived sergeant cannot do that.”
“I beg to differ.” The moment the words left his mouth he knew they were the wrong words.
“Are you bucking for two weeks off?”
He squared his shoulders. “No, ma’am.”
“I don’t want to see you at the station until next Monday and then we’ll have this conversation all over again. Maybe I’ll be in a better mood and maybe you’ll be more receptive to listening.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re dismissed.”
He swung out the door, angry, and took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. She didn’t understand that he needed to work. Work was his life. If he wasn’t working, he was thinking and that was pure torture. As long as he was active, the past stayed in his rearview mirror. And now…
The guys waited for him. They were a team and knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. When they had accomplished some amazing task, they called themselves the magnificent seven. That was on a good day. On a bad day they stood like disobedient soldiers being dressed down by a woman who always seemed to be stronger than they were. And today she’d hit him where it hurt.
“What’s up?” Hutch asked.
He grabbed his carryall and threw it over his shoulder. “I was given a week’s vacation for taking other guys’ shifts.”
“Oh.” James got to his feet with a frown. They all knew he liked to work and that time off wasn’t his thing. “Take it like a man, Sarge. That’s all you can do.”
“Yeah. See you guys in a week.”
Bo headed for his truck in a bad mood. He sat there, looking out at the scenery. It was late September and the heat of summer held on with a fierce grip, but fall had nudged its way into the scenery and atmosphere. The green grass wasn’t so green anymore and the leaves on the trees were just waiting for a gust of wind to set them free. The Texas sky was an umbrella of beautiful blue.
As a cop he’d been just about everywhere in Austin from the Colorado River to Barton Springs to the Hill Country to Lake Travis to Lake Austin to the University of Texas and everywhere in between, especially Sixth Street with the music and the bars. That’s where he’d made most of his arrests. His favorite place was the state capital. From where he was parked he could see the Goddess of Liberty atop the capital building.
When he was nine, he and his best friend Cole had gone on a school field trip to the capital. There was so much history in the building to see, but he and Cole were fixated on the portrait of Davy Crockett, who died at the Alamo, and his coonskin cap. They each wanted one just like it. Standing in the rotunda, arm in arm, staring up at the Texas Star, they were Texas proud.
But today he wasn’t interested in seeing any of Austin. What did a guy do when there was nowhere to go and nothing to do? He went home.
CHAPTER TWO
BO TURNED OFF Highway 77 and headed for Horseshoe, a little town that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, southeast of Austin yet closer to Temple. No sights to see here. Nothing but hardworking people. The limestone courthouse took pride of place on the town square; the sheriff’s office was connected with a walkway. Quaint and innovative shops surrounded it. Some had been there from the beginning, like the bakery and the diner.
Crepe myrtles dressed up the place and around July they would be in full bloom, giving the courthouse a spiffy look for the Fourth celebration. He’d missed it for the last several years. Coming home was never easy.
Tall, gnarled oaks shaded the square and two old men sat on a bench talking as the American and Texas flags flapped high in the sky. He was home.
Bo’s best friend Cole was now the chief investigator for the DA and worked as a deputy when needed. Bo wanted to stop in and see him but, figuring he would be busy, thought better of it and turned off Main to Liberty Street where his mother lived.
As much as he liked his hometown it always blindsided him with bad memories. Sad, painful memories. He’d been five when his dad left them for the first time. His mom, Ava, worked at the grocery store and couldn’t support them on her own so they’d had to move in with Grandma and Grandpa Goodnight. He liked it on the farm and he liked the outdoors. Bo worshipped the ground his grandpa walked on and he’d been happy.
But three years later Mason Goodnight had returned, apologize
d and asked Ava for forgiveness. And she’d taken him back. They’d moved into a tiny apartment where Bo and his younger sister Kelsey had to share a room. All Bo had wanted was to go back to his grandparents, but his mother wouldn’t let him. She wanted him to try and forgive his father. Bo did his best and life settled down.
Two years later his dad left with a woman he’d met at Rowdy’s beer joint. That had lasted about a year, and then he’d returned with more excuses and Bo’s mother had taken him back once again. Bo couldn’t understand how his mother could do that and there was no forgiveness left in Bo.
His dad had gotten a job at a car dealership in Temple and they’d bought a three-bedroom brick house on Liberty Street. His mom had said that his daddy had changed and Bo really wanted to believe that. So, once again, life had settled down. His dad came home every night and they were a family. But Bo never lost those doubts.
One day he’d thrown up in school and the teacher wanted to call his mom to come get him, but he’d told her that his mom was working and couldn’t get off. After calling Ava and making sure it was okay, the teacher took him home on her break.
His dad’s truck had been out in front of the house and Bo had thought that was strange. But then he’d thought that maybe his father had gotten off work early. When he’d opened the door and heard moaning, it occurred to him that his dad might be home sick, too.
He’d gone to his parents’ bedroom and stood frozen in the doorway. Two naked people were in the bed and the woman wasn’t his mother. The woman noticed him, and she and his father started scrambling for the covers. Bo had wanted to run out of the house, but instead he went to his bedroom and got the shotgun his grandfather had given him.
He’d charged back into the room and pointed the gun at his father’s bare chest. “Get out!” he’d shouted.
“Son…”
The woman darted past him, half-dressed. “I didn’t sign up for this, babe.”
“Get out!” Bo screamed once again, his finger on the trigger. His body had been shaking and sweat broke out on his forehead.
His dad had grabbed his shirt and followed the woman. When Bo heard the truck start, he walked into the living room, sat on the sofa and placed the shotgun across his legs. He was still sitting there when his mother came home.
He’d told her what had happened and she was devastated. They held each other that day and his mother had cried on his shoulder for what happened and what had been done to Bo. He’d wanted to cry, too, but he was almost twelve years old and too old for that.
His mom allowed his dad back into the house to get his things and they hadn’t seen him again until Bo’s grandfather passed away when Bo was sixteen. His dad had come to the funeral. It had been hard, losing his grandfather and having to deal with his dad at the same time.
Mason had always been his mother’s favorite, though. He was gifted musically, and played guitar and piano, and that was how he was making a living, working in different bands. When that didn’t pay the bills, he’d get a regular job.
At the funeral Mason had played the organ and sung, at his mother’s request. He had done a beautiful rendition of “Amazing Grace,” even Bo had had to admit that. Mason left soon after and neither Bo’s mom, Bo nor Kelsey had spoken to him. Bo had hoped that was the end of his father disrupting their lives.
But when Bo graduated from high school, his father came for the ceremony. Bo had seen his mom talking to him. That blew Bo’s mind. He just couldn’t stay in Horseshoe if his mom was going to take his dad back once again. That wasn’t something he could handle. He and Cole talked, as they had so many times, and decided to join the army to get away from their dysfunctional families.
Bo had one problem, though. He was in love with Becky, the girl who lived across the street. They had made plans, like getting married and having a family of their own. But she would understand. He just knew it.
He’d been wrong.
She was furious with him for taking the easy way out of a family problem. She told him to face his dad and talk to him like a man instead of running. But back then running was all that was on his mind, because deep down he was afraid he might really hurt the man who had given him life.
Becky had said, “If you go, that will be the end of us. I won’t be waiting for you.”
He’d tried to cajole her into taking back what she’d said. She wouldn’t. But he hadn’t worried because they loved each other and she would forgive him. That thought lasted in his head until a year later when he got the news that she’d married someone else. Then he knew she’d meant it.
Memories. Good ol’ memories were waiting for him right here in Horseshoe, Texas, on Liberty Street. As he neared the house he saw his mother’s car in the garage and a truck pulled up behind it. He didn’t recognize the truck. He parked at the curb and went in through the garage door.
His mom was talking to someone and the answering voice lit a fuse that burned Bo all the way to his soul. He knew that voice. His dad was here. He marched into the room, the fire burning deeper into his chest.
He pointed a finger at his father. “Get out!”
“Bo, I didn’t know you were coming home,” his mother said, wiping her hands down her jeans in a nervous gesture.
“Obviously. How long has he been coming here?”
“Bo, really? This anger is out of place after all these years.”
“I’ll leave, Ava,” Mason said in a smooth, lyrical voice and Bo looked at his father for the first time in a long time. His dark hair, likely dyed, was down to his shoulders and a bandanna was tied around his head. From the full beard, worn jeans, sneakers and brightly colored shirt, Bo knew his father was in a band again. People said Bo looked like him and he supposed they were right. Same dark hair and eyes, but Bo didn’t see any resemblance beyond that.
His mother stepped closer. “Bo, this is my house and I’m speaking to your father. That’s it.”
“For the record, this is not your house. It’s mine. I’ve worked since I was fifteen years old to help you pay the mortgage because—” he flung a hand at his father “—he bailed on you. He bailed on his family and he is not welcome here.”
His father walked out, but Bo followed him, as did his mother.
“Bo, stop this,” his mother ordered.
“I didn’t come here to argue, son.”
“Don’t call me son.” The word infuriated Bo. The rage inside him ballooned and he couldn’t seem to control it. How dare Mason come back after all these years?
His father turned to face him on the front lawn. “I am your father whether you want to admit it or not.”
“You’re not my father in any meaning of the word.”
“I made mistakes…”
“Oh, please, I don’t want to hear your mistakes, excuses or lies. My mom falls for them, but I don’t.” Bo pointed to the house. “This house is in my name and you are not welcome here ever again. Do you understand what I mean?”
“What’s going on here?”
Bo swung around to face Becky and he suddenly realized he was standing in the front yard yelling. The flame died inside him and he took a long breath.
Why was Becky here? She lived in Austin. Whenever he did come home they always seemed to miss each other, which suited them both.
“I could hear y’all yelling from inside my dad’s house and it’s upsetting my daughter. Please consider others when you want to act like two-year-olds.”
“I’m sorry, Becky,” his mother said. “But there will be no more yelling, will there?” She looked straight at Bo.
His father got in his truck and drove away, and the weight on Bo’s shoulders pressed down a little deeper and made him realize that someday soon he would have to deal with his feelings about his father.
He turned to face Becky and her angry blue eyes. He was so tired of her anger. It was so different than the lo
ve he used to see in her. “I’m sorry if I disturbed your daughter.”
In shorts and a sleeveless top, she reminded him of a time when he’d crawl through her window just to spend time with her, and when he was the most important person in her life. Now she had a child who wasn’t his. That was hard to take on top of everything else. He’d destroyed the one thing that was good about him—Becky’s love.
“Thank you.” She strolled back across the street without another word, and Bo and his mother walked into the house.
“How could you?” his mother asked.
“That’s my question,” he shot back. She wasn’t going to make him feel guilty. He had every right to be angry, but maybe not to the extent that he was.
“Why bring up the house? Do you want me to move out? Yes, you paid for it. I couldn’t have made it without you. Throwing it in my face is very rude and that’s not like you.”
She took a breath. “And for the record, Mason didn’t come here for money or asking for a place to stay. He’s in a band and they’re doing very well. They’re playing in Austin, Temple, Killeen and a lot of other small towns. He stopped by to see how I was doing and asked about his kids. And, yes, you are one of his kids, and I can talk to whoever I please.”
Bo sank onto the sofa and leaned his head back against the cushions, wondering if this day could get much worse. “I was way out of line, but he does that to me and I can’t help it.”
“Why? You have a good job as a sergeant on a SWAT team. You’re in control of your life. Mason has never been. He smokes too much, drinks too much and parties too much. He wakes up in a new world every day and I’m so happy you’re not like him. You’re my responsible, stubborn son and I’m so proud of you.”
Oh, man. She was driving the last nail into his coffin of guilt. “Sometimes I’m not so in control, like today. I’m sorry for mentioning the house. The reason I put the house in my name was because I didn’t want him coming back here and you letting him in. It gave me some control. You’re notorious for falling for all his lies. That’s fact. That’s truth. But this house is yours. I have my own place.”
Harlequin Heartwarming December 2020 Box Set Page 26
