Declan

by Chris Keniston

  The next few seconds flew by in synchronized precision. Needing to open the door wider to reach the two bags, Jake stood in full view of DJ's sights. Jake's gun pointed where Adam and Meg had stood only moments ago. On DJ's cue, Esther yanked the door open wide, DJ moved in, Jake's arm spun around and DJ took his shot. Gun drawn, Reed rushed past him into the building. Adrenaline pumping, DJ kicked the gun away from the fallen man's hand and nodded at Brooks. Charlotte's piercing screams drowned out all other shouts of activity. God how he hated days like this.

  ***

  The sounds of a car backfiring ricocheted through the café. Except everyone in the place knew the blast had nothing to do with a car and everything to do with the situation at the feed store. The reverberations faded and every soul stared out the window, frozen in time, unable to see the bustle inside the barricades, waiting for the sound of more shots.

  Nothing.

  "That's a good thing. Right?" Becky's gaze remained fixed outside.

  "Depends." Abbie's grip on the coffee pot tightened. "If an officer were down, we'd see all hell breaking loose. I'd say it's a safe guess our guys are secure."

  Shortly after Sean Farraday left with food as DJ had requested, Connor and Catherine came in with little Stacey. Chatting and coloring, the little girl forced a lighter mood on all the patrons mulling about waiting. Until now.

  At Becky's side, Aunt Eileen's shoulders deflated with relief and then equally fast, her eyes grew round as she spun about to face Abbie. "Meg?"

  Abbie shook her head. "I honestly don't know, but if you're asking what I think, no more exchange of fire doesn't bode well for Jake. Either someone neutralized him…"

  "Or he shot himself," Kelly said softly. "Poor Charlotte."

  "I don't know about that, her life must be a living hell with that man." Aunt Eileen pointed up the street, her back straight again. "Looks like something's happening."

  All eyes gravitated to the buzz of activity up Main Street. No one breathed a word until the lights of a Tuckers Bluff patrol car whipped down the street, the siren blaring, and Brooks’ vehicle on its tail. What Abbie couldn't determine was if the injury was life threatening and the siren's whirring meant the cars were on their way to meet with a helicopter for transportation to Butler Springs, or if the injuries were minor enough that the long drive was an option.

  Neither possibility sat well with Abbie.

  "You okay?" Frank came up beside her as quietly as a Navy SEAL in the dead of night.

  Abbie nodded. She'd been keeping busy. Busy helped block out the memories, keep the reminders at bay. "Better than I'd have thought."

  Frank's gaze lingered from the top of her head to the tip of toes, carefully assessing his boss's state of mind. "That doesn't tell me much."

  The concern in his gaze gave Abbie reason to smile. Lots of people cared about her here in Tuckers Bluff. People who mattered to her. "I'm okay. And you," she lifted her chin, pointing toward the kitchen, "need to get back to cooking. I'm expecting a very busy supper hour."

  Frank took another second and then shrugging, turned his back to her, muttering, "Slave driver."

  That made Abbie's smile widen. Tuckers Bluff was a good place to call home no matter what kind of madness just went down on Main Street.

  Chapter Ten

  "More tea?" Toni asked.

  Becky shook her head. If she drank one more cup she'd float down Main Street. Her plans to go home with Brittany and wait for DJ had been discarded by Aunt Eileen hours ago.

  Once the initial commotion after the stand-off had passed, Toni and Donna, one of the café waitresses, came into the Silver Spurs with Donna's baby girl. Toni had accompanied Donna to her doctor's appointment in Butler Springs to check out the obstetrician. Thank heaven Toni hadn't been in town during the most frightening moments. As it was, she'd blanched several shades of white while Aunt Eileen explained what had happened. No surprise to anyone, Meg had insisted on going with Charlotte to the hospital and of course Adam had insisted on going with Meg.

  Once the conversation and activity at the café had returned to something close to normal, Connor and Stacey hitched a ride with Finn back to the ranch. There was only so much standing around men like that could do. Connor had been itching to get Stacey home in case any of the uniformed police came by, and Finn was just as happy to get back to his chores once he was sure everyone was perfectly safe and secure.

  Sean Farraday, the rock that everyone leaned on, had only waited until everyone was accounted for and the blockades removed before taking his truck out to Butler Springs. Adam, Meg and Charlotte had driven with DJ in the patrol car. Sean was the only one to recognize that with Brooks and DJ both having jobs to do, Adam and Meg might need transportation home.

  Having given Connor a goodbye kiss worthy of a Hollywood melodrama, Catherine stuck around for whenever Aunt Eileen needed a ride home. Based on her past losses, it was no surprise that she and Connor understood the value of loved ones more than anyone.

  Since Aunt Eileen preferred to stay in town and wait for the remainder of her boys to come back from Butler Springs, the Farraday clan had moved to the B&B so Toni could tend to the few guests Meg had and wait for more news together. The way Aunt Eileen usually referred to her nephews as boys almost always gave Becky the giggles. Grown men, tall as trees, and they would always be Aunt Eileen's boys.

  Conversation stilled at the rumble of a truck in the drive. It had been almost an hour since DJ had called from the hospital to let Becky know he was on his way back to town. One door slammed after another, then more engine sounds and more car doors slamming. Becky kept her gaze on the kitchen doorway of Adam and Meg's old Victorian bed and breakfast. With Meg tucked under his arm, Adam was the first in the door. DJ was next, followed by his father.

  "Okay," Catherine looked at Meg, "I think it's time to put the tea pot away and break out the cork screw. Red or white?"

  "White," Meg answered without skipping a beat.

  "Anyone else?" Catherine looked around the room.

  "Make mine a scotch," Sean Farraday said from the other side of the massive kitchen island.

  "I'll get the bottle." Adam pushed to his feet and crossed the kitchen.

  Little Brittany was still at that age where she mostly slept the day away. Though originally bought for decoration, in the corner of the front parlor an antique cradle still worked great for a baby Brittany's size. That's where Becky found DJ.

  "You okay?” she asked.

  Staring at the small bundle, DJ nodded.

  "Brooks still at the hospital?"

  "Yeah." DJ continued to stare down at Brittany. "I hit Jake in the shoulder. Nothing serious, but he still had to go into surgery. Brooks wanted to stay until he wakes up. He's ordered more tests."

  "What will happen to him?"

  "It's in the county's hands now." DJ lifted his gaze to the ceiling and blew out a deep breath. "Charlotte kept apologizing for her husband. I can't understand how she can stand by him after what he did."

  "Maybe it's because of what he did that she's standing by him."

  DJ's head whipped around, his steely gaze landing on her. "The man could have killed her…and Meg."

  "I know."

  "Would you stay with a man like that?"

  It took her a second to imagine what she might do if Ethan came home a changed man and became a threat to her and the people who cared about him. "I honestly don't know."

  "I don't get it." DJ stepped back from the cradle then turned to face her. "You're thinking about Ethan aren't you?"

  Her head bobbed once. "War does horrible things to some people."

  This time DJ's chin dipped in agreement before turning back to the still sleeping baby and mumbling, "Hoorah."

  "What's really bothering you?" she dared to ask.

  DJ took a step back. "Everything and nothing."

  "That covers a lot of territory."

  "Yeah, it does." His weight shifted from one leg to the other as his hand r
ubbed his neck and fell to his side again. "I thought I left all this in Dallas, but shit follows you no matter what you do."

  She had no idea how to answer that.

  "Right this minute Charlotte is sitting dutifully at her husband's bedside. Her sister from Houston is next to her. Charlotte wants him to get better and come home and her sister wants him in jail."

  "And you?"

  "I keep thinking about the kind-hearted kid I knew in school and trying to picture him in jail." DJ shook his head. "Maybe I didn't do him any favors aiming for his shoulder."

  The pain in his eyes drew Becky closer. Stopping beside him, she let her fingers fall on his arms. "You can't fix the world. None of us can."

  His eyes met hers and she felt a sudden rush of energy surge between them. His gaze fell to where her hand rested on his arm and her fingers lifted at the unexpected heat.

  "You two planning on staying out here all day?" Toni said as she came into the room. "I can't believe I'm going to have one of those soon."

  DJ's gaze slowly lifted to meet Becky's and lingered an extra moment before he stepped back and turned to his sister-in-law and chuckled. "I can't believe my brother is going to have one of these soon."

  The smile that graced Toni's lips didn't quite reach her eyes. Becky wasn't privy to the whole story between Brooks and Toni and her late husband and the rushed wedding and the yet to be officially announced pregnancy, but whatever it was, Becky felt sure it could be blamed for the shaky smile.

  Still feeling the warmth of his skin on her fingertips, Becky clenched her fists and, facing Toni, forced a grin. "At least Brooks is better at diaper changing."

  Toni's stuttered laugh broke the tension lingering in the small room. "Oh, he'd better get a lot better!"

  "He will," Becky said, "we'll let him practice on Brittany again before we go home."

  "Sounds like a plan." Toni's phone rang and reading the caller name, her face lit up. "Speak of the devil." She held up the phone a second before accepting the call and stepping out into the hall.

  Becky's gaze followed Toni's disappearing form. "They really are very happy, aren't they?"

  "Yeah. They are," DJ agreed.

  All of a sudden the Farraday men were dropping off the town's most eligible bachelor list with surprising speed. Maybe there was something in the water?

  ***

  DJ loved his family. Really he did. But tonight he couldn’t get away from the crowd and the questions fast enough. Any other time, when his support wasn't promised to a spunky woman and an abandoned baby, he'd have hunkered down behind his desk and tackled the mountain of paperwork and red tape that followed an officer firing a weapon. Instead, with an infant carrier in hand, he climbed the steps to what used to be his brother's apartment.

  "I should give you a key." Becky slid past him to reach the front door.

  The thought caught DJ by surprise. He was a guest. A key would be something more permanent. Glancing down at the baby, his thoughts sprinted in various directions. How long till the DNA results came back? What would happen when they did? What would he do if this little girl was his niece? If she wasn't?

  Becky shoved the door open and stepped aside. "Home sweet home."

  Again, her words surprised him. Home? He hadn't really had one of those since he'd left the ranch. Yeah, he had a place to park his butt and watch TV or crawl under the covers if he wasn't sacking out at the station, but home?

  Placing her keys on a nearby hook, Becky spun about. "I suppose we could just leave her in the carrier till she wakes up hungry."

  "You suppose?" DJ had followed Becky's lead so far. She'd seemed totally confident in her handling of the baby. Like she'd already raised a passel of her own.

  Becky shrugged. "Hey, babysitting only gets you so far."

  Since no one had ever asked him to babysit in his entire life, she was leaps and bounds ahead of him in the what-to-do-now department. "Where do I put her?"

  "I suppose," she grinned before glancing away, "the bedroom should be fine."

  "Bedroom it is." He'd set the carrier down on the floor beside the portable crib and smiled. Farraday or not, as far as babies went, this one was pretty sweet. He'd barely crossed the threshold when his gaze fell on Becky's derriere as she straightened by the fridge, a longneck brew in her hand.

  "Thirsty?"

  It took the saliva a few seconds to return to his mouth so he could form words. "That would be great. Thanks." Settled on the sofa, he dropped his ankle over his knee and drank back a long swallow. Not cool enough. "Aren't you having one?"

  At the other end of the couch, reaching for the remote, she shook her head. "Never developed a taste for beer."

  Did she keep the fridge stocked for someone else? Had she gotten back together with Ben? No, DJ had seen him and the schoolteacher having dinner at the café just the other night. "Why do you keep beer in the fridge if you don't like it?"

  "Cause you do."

  His booted foot fell to the floor with a thud. "What?"

  "After a long day at the ranch, all y'all like to have a beer. Sometimes after dinner too."

  DJ blinked. She was right. Whenever he worked with Finn and his brothers they often had a cold beer before supper, but it had been ages since Becky had been over at the ranch for dinner. "You remember that?"

  She nodded.

  He looked down at the label. His favorite. "When did you have time to pick this up?"

  "There was a lull mid morning and while everyone passed Brittany around I ran to pick up a few items."

  "Like my favorite beer?"

  Color tinged her cheeks and she shrugged it off. "I needed eggs and bread too."

  And beer for him. Right about now, DJ was thinking it would be too easy to get used to a life like this. Comfy couch, cool drink, cute baby, and a beautiful, thoughtful woman. DJ blinked. Woman? His gaze settled on Becky. The same age as his little sister, Becky was seven years his junior. When he'd graduated high school she and Grace hadn't even hit the awkward teenage years. When he'd come back from the marines, he'd felt a hundred years older than when he'd left and Becky and Grace were in high school giggling and squealing at the strangest things. Even when he'd returned to Tuckers Bluff to take the job of Police Chief, though Becky was a legal adult, to him she was still the sweet kid who hung out with Grace. Hell, until a few days ago he still thought of her as another little sister. Even working with Adam perpetuated the lingering image of spunky kid next door who volunteered at the clinic on weekends because she loved animals. But there was so much more to Miss Rebecca Wilson.

  How had he missed it? He'd always noticed she was kind and capable and even pretty. But all grown up she was strong, more than capable she was bloody taking charge and kicking ass. The depths of her nurturing nature went well beyond cute kittens to championing for helpless babies and even soothing world weary men who had seen too much darkness in the world. She'd truly grown into one helluva woman. One in love with his brother. And didn't that just suck.

  He downed another long swallow and forced his gaze away from Becky and over to the TV. She'd been flipping stations and stopped at an old movie channel. His mind darted back and forth through the scenes of the day. At least for a little while, thoughts of Becky had kept him from thinking about Jake and Charlotte and the fubar that situation had turned into. He should have known better. Should have seen it coming. Should have recognized Jake was a powder keg ready to explode—and take someone with him.

  Instead of the soft gurgles that usually sounded when Brittany was waking, a sharp wail pierced the room. He and Becky were on their feet and bursting through the closed bedroom door. Red-faced and feet pumping, little Brittany was screaming her heart out.

  "There, there," Becky cooed and cradled the baby against her shoulder. "I bet it was just a nasty dream."

  Normally the baby would settle somewhat as soon as someone picked her up. Even when she was hungry and impatient, she never screeched like this.

  "Should I get h
er bottle?" He knew it hadn't been that long since she'd been fed, but nothing else seemed to make her as happy as a warm bottle. What he didn't like was the slight crease forming between Becky's brows.

  "I'll change her diaper. Maybe she pooped. Can't blame her for not wanting to stay in a dirty diaper."

  DJ nodded. "One warm bottle coming up." He wasn't ready to deal with baby poop.

  In the kitchen he went to task, waiting for the cries to stop. Or at least slow down. But nothing. The bottle was ready and Becky rocked her way across the room, cooing and swaying and bouncing, and Brittany wasn't having any of it.

  "Let me try." He stretched out his arms and Becky's brows rose high on her forehead. He couldn't blame her for her reaction, even he was a little surprised to hear his own words. They'd tumbled out before his brain had had any time to filter the content. If Becky couldn't make Brittany happy, why the heck would he think he could?

  "Sure." She surprised him, handing off the child. Immediately DJ found himself doing the same rocking, swaying and bouncing routine Becky had just gone through. His version wasn't working any better. "Try the bottle," she added.

  Right. The bottle. Already feeling relief at the prospect of a quiet, happy baby, DJ tucked her into the crook of his arm and teased her lips with the rubber tipped bottle. If anything, she screamed louder seconds before vomiting up a stream of creamy white gunk. And he thought the first part of the day had been hell.

  The next hour or so flew by in a blur. DJ rocked the baby. Becky paced with her. They took turns. After a couple of tries with the bottle only to have Brittany spit it all back up, they quickly gave up on that idea and went back to walking, rocking and even singing. Apparently "You Are My Sunshine" seemed to be a favorite tune with the cranky baby. DJ wondered if it was the melody or something her mother might have sung to her. His mind drifted back to the image of Brittany under a bench in a cardboard box and he decided no mother who could do that was likely to sing to her baby.