Читать книгу The Sheriff - Jan Hudson - Страница 8

When the Greyhound bus pulled to a stop at Wally’s Feed Store, a ton of memories flooded Mary Beth Parker. This was the first time she’d been back to Naconiche, Texas, in twelve years—a lifetime ago, or so it seemed.

“Wake up, Katy,” she whispered to her daughter, kissing the little blond head that nestled against her. “We’re here.”

Katy stretched and yawned, moving slowly, tired after the long trip from Natchez. Mary Beth had hated to put the four-year-old through the exhausting bus trip, but there simply wasn’t enough cash to buy plane tickets—even if there had been an airport nearby. They had endured some rough times in the past two years, but their luck had finally changed. Just when she was starting to feel most desperate, Mary Beth had received word of an inheritance. A distant relative on her father’s side had died and left everything to her—not a huge estate, the attorney had cautioned, but anything at all would be welcome to Mary Beth. She and Katy had been living off the kindness of friends.

Mary Beth struggled to her feet and got her crutches and her carry-on from the overhead bin. The blasted cast on her foot made moving in the cramped space awkward, and her leg ached from the long ride.

“Don’t forget Penelope and your toy bag,” she told Katy. Penelope, a worn, flop-eared stuffed dog, went everywhere with her daughter, including to bed at night.

Several passengers called goodbye as they moved down the aisle. With her bubbly personality, Katy had become the mascot of the group and had told anybody who would listen, “We’re going to find our fortune in the town where my mommy was queen.” Katy was quite precocious, but she hadn’t learned the finer points of discretion yet.

The driver helped them off and unloaded their bags from the belly of the bus. “Good luck to you, ma’am. And to you, too, Katy.”

“Thanks, Mr. Emmett.” Katy waved merrily and turned to face the old courthouse across the street. “Where’s the square, Mommy? The one where you rode when you were queen.”

“That’s it, sugarplum. See, the courthouse is in the middle and the streets make a square around it.”

As the bus drove away, a tan sheriff’s car pulled up. The door opened and a tall man in a black cowboy hat climbed out. Mary Beth thought his slow, deliberate movements seemed familiar. Broad-shouldered and ruggedly handsome, he walked as if he owned the place. When he started toward her, a big grin spread across his face.

Her heart almost stopped. It was the grin that she recognized—that Outlaw grin. The years had been kind to him; they had etched his face with character, changing him from a boy to a man.

Automatically her hand started to her hair, then she forced it back down. She looked as if she’d been pulled through a knothole backward and she knew it. She’d hoped to have time to prepare herself before running into him. Actually, she was hoping that he had moved to Houston or Topeka—somewhere far away so that she wouldn’t have to face him in her humiliation. But there he stood, sexy as all get-out, and her looking like a frump in rumpled clothes with sleep in her eyes. There was nothing to do but keep her chin up and play it cool.

“Mary Beth Beams? Darlin’, is that you?”

“J.J.?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.

“In the flesh,” he said, taking her into his arms in a bear hug.

The crutches made hugging him difficult, but she gave it her best shot. It felt so good to be in a strong, masculine embrace—so darned good. The years seemed to roll away. She was a girl again, secure in familiar arms.

“You look great,” he said, “but what in the world happened to your foot?”

“I broke it. A really stupid accident.”

She felt a tug on her jacket and looked down.

“Who’s he?” Katy asked in a loud whisper.

Mary Beth stepped away, grateful that her daughter had pulled her back to reality. J.J. seemed happy to see her, but she was sure the man hadn’t spent all this time pining for her. In fact, an old pain slashed through her as she recalled he hadn’t even pined for her a full day when she’d broken up with him all those years ago. But those days were long past. He probably had a wife and four kids by now. “This is J. J. Outlaw, an old friend of mine. J.J., this is my daughter, Katy.”

He grinned down at Katy, who was looking him over quite thoroughly, and tipped his hat. “Delighted to meet you, Miss Katy. Welcome to Naconiche.”

Katy frowned, inched closer to Mary Beth and said, “Are you a real outlaw? Outlaws are bad guys.”

J.J. chuckled. “My last name is Outlaw, but I’m one of the good guys. I’m the county sheriff.”

“Is that why you have a gun?”

He nodded gravely. “For emergencies. In case I meet up with any real bad guys.”

“Do you put people in the pokey? My daddy—”

Horrified at what her daughter was about to blurt out, Mary Beth clamped her hand over Katy’s mouth. “You’re the sheriff now? I thought your father would be sheriff forever.”

J.J. laughed. “I was beginning to think that, too, but he retired last year, and I ran for his job and won the election.”

“It’s great to see you again,” Mary Beth said, trying her best to act casual. Seeing J.J. again aroused a legion of conflicting feelings inside her, and her emotions were already stretched dangerously thin after a grueling seventeen-hour bus trip. He’d once been the love of her life…. She couldn’t deal with him right now, she thought, looking around. “Mr. Murdock was supposed to meet us, but I don’t see him. Where is his office?”

“On the other side of the square.” J.J. motioned across the way. “But he’s in court right now, and no telling when he’ll be done. He asked me to meet you and get you settled.”

Her heart hit the pavement. Since it seemed that there was no escaping him, she pushed all her memories and muddled emotions behind a thick door and locked it. Lifting her chin and giving him a perky smile, she said, “Why, isn’t that sweet of you, J.J.”

“No problem. Will you be staying at Ouida’s Bed-and-Breakfast?”

Surprised by his question, Mary Beth said, “I—I don’t know where we’ll be staying. I had assumed that we could stay at the motel, but I suppose it might be full.”

“The motel?”

“Yes, The Twilight Inn. I inherited it, you know. The motel and the restaurant next door. Marjorie Bartlett owned it, but she died a few months ago and left it to me. Well, she actually didn’t leave it to me…or to anybody. She had Alzheimer’s and had been in a nursing home for years, but she was my father’s cousin and I’m the only relative left on his side of the family. On either side, really. Since my folks died, I’m it, except for some of my mom’s cousins in Bremerton, Washington, and I’ve never met any of them. Truthfully, I barely remembered Cousin Marjorie, but I’m extremely thankful to have inherited her property.” She laughed. “Sorry, I’m babbling, but I’m very tired. I’m eager to get settled at the motel and soak in a warm bath.”

J.J. looked puzzled and was about to say something when Katy tugged her mother’s jacket again and pointed. “Look, Mommy! There’s a giant ice-cream cone in front of that store.”

“The Double Dip,” Mary Beth said, smiling. “Is that place still operating?”

“Sure is,” J.J. said. “My mother runs it now.”

“Do they sell ice cream? Could I have some, please, please, please?” Katy danced around as she pleaded.

J.J. hoisted Katy up into his arms, “’Course you can, Miss Katy. I’ll treat you and your mother to ice cream while we wait for Mr. Murdock to finish his case. Is that okay, Mary Beth? Mama would love to see you.”

“Please, Mommy. Please, please, please. Could I have chocolate with sprinkles?”

Mary Beth stroked a wayward curl from Katy’s forehead and smiled. “Okay.” She glanced at her luggage. “But what will we do with our bags?”

“Wally!” J.J. shouted, it seemed like to no one in particular. “Keep an eye on Mary Beth’s stuff, will you?”

“Yep,” a voice answered from behind a stack of feed sacks.

“This way, ladies,” J.J. said, slipping his free hand under Mary Beth’s elbow as she hobbled along the sidewalk. “Wait, I forgot about your foot. Should I drive you over?”

“Heavens, no. It’s only half a block, and I’m tired of sitting. I need to stretch.”

As they walked, slowly because of the crutches, Katy chattered a mile a minute—about their bus ride, about her dolls, about her best friend Emily in Natchez, but not, thank goodness, about her daddy. It was bad enough that the homecoming queen had returned practically penniless, but Mary Beth wasn’t ready to announce to everyone in her old hometown that her ex-husband was in prison.

The pressure of J.J.’s hand was steady and secure. Steady. Secure. Rock solid. She could feel the staggering weight of two years of stress begin to ease.

Had it been two years? It seemed like a lifetime ago that the police had come for her husband and his name was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Shocked by Brad’s subsequent indictment for embezzlement, she’d been quickly hit with the fact that they were in debt up to their eyebrows. Brad had always insisted on handling the finances and, like a fool, she’d trusted him. And like a fool she’d never questioned how he supported their lavish lifestyle and his gambling habit. He’d gone to prison, and the mortgage company had foreclosed on their beautiful home. Most of their assets had gone for attorney fees and toward restitution. She’d been left only with her car, part of the furniture that was paid for and her personal possessions—what she hadn’t hocked to pay the utilities.

She and Katy had been left literally on the street. A friend had generously provided them a place to live, and after some of the bewilderment had worn off, Mary Beth had given herself a good talking-to. The time had come for her to stop acting like such a wuss and take control of her life. After searching want ads, asking around among the few friends still associating with her and going on endless interviews, she landed a job as an aerobics instructor. It wasn’t much, but the deal was better than anything else she could find—and she was a darned good instructor. They were managing to get back on their feet, when Mary Beth had her accident. With no income and no insurance, the situation was bleak. As her meager bank balance dwindled, panic had set in. She had a child to feed and clothe. She had wept and prayed and cursed Brad Parker and her own stupidity for marrying him.

Now walking down this street in Naconiche, she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t moved away with her parents the summer after she graduated from high school? What would her life have been like if she’d stayed here and married J.J. instead of the scoundrel she’d chosen?

Yet, without Brad Parker there would have been no Katy. And Katy was worth every humiliation she’d endured.

What was done, was done and she was back now, starting over in the place she’d been so eager to leave. The grass hadn’t been greener on the other side of the fence, but it had taken her a long time to discover that. And she’d also learned that she couldn’t trust a man—or anyone else—to provide for her or make her happy. She had to depend on herself, make it on her own. And, by damn, she was giving it her best shot.

Mary Beth took a deep breath and immersed herself in the sights and sounds of her old hometown.

Very little about Naconiche had changed. The familiar clicking of shuffling dominoes came from under the shade tree on the courthouse lawn, where old men met to play every day except Sunday. Roses still bloomed beside the bank, and the smell of sizzling meat and frying onions from the City Grill wafted by her.

As they stepped inside the Double Dip, the cold-sweet scents of chocolate and peppermint and strawberry took her back a dozen and more years. How many times had she sat on one of those red stools at the counter and eaten a banana split with extra pecans or a hot-fudge sundae with her friends? Her throat tightened and tears sprang to her eyes.

She was home.

“Mom,” J.J. said. “Look who I found. Mary Beth Beams. And this is her daughter Katy.”

“Mary Beth Parker, now.” She smiled at the gray-haired woman who had taught her in third grade. “It’s good to see you, Miss Nonie.”

“Mary Beth!” Her arms open wide, Nonie Outlaw hurried to the front of the store and enveloped her former student in a hug. “How wonderful to see you! And Katy, what a beautiful young lady you are. You look just like your mother when she was your age. We were so excited when Dwight Murdock told us you were coming to town. Welcome home.”

Another bit of tension gave way, and Mary Beth smiled. When she was seventeen, she could hardly wait to get away from the hick town where she’d grown up. Now that same town was her refuge.

Yes, she was finally home. Everything was going to be okay.

NONIE OUTLAW PLAYED with Katy, while J.J. and Mary Beth sat at one of the marble tables by the window. He felt himself grinning like an idiot as he watched Mary Beth dig into the banana split she’d ordered. She’d been a pretty girl the last time he saw her. Now she was a beautiful woman. He thought he’d forgotten her—but he hadn’t. All the old feelings came barreling down on him. It was like being blindsided by Shorty Badder’s log truck.

He’d been crazy about Mary Beth for as long as he could remember. He’d finally gotten up the nerve to ask her for a date when he was a senior in high school and she was a sophomore. From that moment on, they’d been a couple, even when he’d gone off to college in Huntsville the next year.

He thought of one of the last times he’d seen her. It was a week or two after she’d graduated from high school, and they had gone to a movie. He remembered her hiding her eyes against his shoulder during some of the scarier parts. Afterward, they had gone out to the overlook and parked.

He’d meant to propose to her that night—he had the ring in his pocket. But before he could ask her to marry him, she’d broken up with him. She told him that she and her family were moving to Dallas the next week—her father had gotten a sudden promotion—and besides, she’d be going off to college in the fall anyhow. She’d been accepted at some fancy school in Florida, one that he didn’t even know that she’d applied to. But then, Mary Beth had always had highfalutin ideas about getting out of Naconiche and seeing the world.

It had damned near broken his heart.

No, not damned near. It had broken his heart. Devastated him.

Instead of telling her he loved her and asking her to marry him the way he’d planned, pride had made him brush her off and turn his attention to Holly Winchell the very next night. Holly was a hot little number who worked as a waitress at the restaurant next to The Twilight Inn, the one that Mary Beth now owned. She’d been a sorry substitute for Mary Beth and the fling hadn’t lasted long. He couldn’t remember the name of the restaurant then—it had gone through several changes through the years—or what happened to Holly. In its heyday the old Twilight Inn had been a thriving business, but it had gone from bad to worse before it finally closed down about four or five years ago.

J.J. was afraid that Mary Beth was in for a disappointment if she was expecting much from that old property, but he didn’t want to be the one who let her down. He’d leave that up to Dwight Murdock.

His own strawberry sundae melted as he watched her eat, watched the dimple at the bottom corner of her mouth appear and disappear as she spooned ice cream between her lips. God, he’d spent many a night thinking about that dimple. She seemed to savor every bite, closing her eyes and sighing every once in a while in a way that was downright sexy.

Even though she looked tired, she was more attractive than any woman within a hundred miles. No, make that a thousand miles—or maybe farther. There was still something about her that made him want to cuddle her close and bury his nose in her thick blond hair—a thought he shouldn’t be thinking if there was a Mr. Parker still around. He’d noticed right away that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but these days lots of women didn’t. He tried to think of subtle ways to ask about her husband and couldn’t think of any. He’d never been much of one to pussyfoot around.

“You still married?”

She shook her head. “Divorced. Almost two years ago.”

He tried not to smile. Oh, hell, what was he thinking? A man would have to be crazy to get involved with Mary Beth again and get his heart broken twice. No, he wasn’t going down that road again.

But, damn, she sure stirred up something potent inside him.

“So how did you break your foot?” he asked.

“It would sound a lot more exciting if I said I hurt myself skiing in Vail, but the truth is, I fell down the steps of my apartment. A silly accident. I was carrying groceries. A bag started slipping, and I tried to save it. I lost the bag anyhow and broke two bones in my foot. That was the end of my career, too.”

“And what career was that?”

“I taught aerobics at the local health club. It wasn’t much of a career, but I was good at it, and I could leave Katy at the nursery there while I taught my classes. Child care is expensive these days. Everything is expensive these days. News of my inheritance couldn’t have come at a better time. Things were getting pretty tight for us.” Mary Beth paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.

So things had been hard lately for Mary Beth…

Her voice broke into his thoughts. “What about you? Do you have a family?”

“Just my folks, my brothers and my sister. I never got married. Guess I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Never even came close?”

“Only once.” He grinned. “Then I sobered up.”

She laughed and wiped her lips with a napkin. “There has to be a story in that.”

“Not really. I had too much champagne at Frank’s wedding and proposed to a bridesmaid from Texarkana. Luckily, she didn’t take me seriously.” Actually, there was more to the story than that, but he didn’t want to go into it.

“Oh, is Frank married?”

“He was. His wife was killed in a car wreck last year. He has twins, a boy and a girl, about Katy’s age.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is Frank okay?”

J.J. shrugged. “Well as can be expected.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me go over to the courthouse and see how much longer Dwight will be. Stay here and visit with Mama till I get back.”

J.J. rose and hurried from the shop. Damn! He could hardly wait to get hold of Dwight Murdock. He might skewer that knuckleheaded lawyer for dragging him into this mess. He didn’t want to see the look on Mary Beth’s face when she found out about her inheritance.

MARY BETH PICKED UP their ice cream dishes and carried them to the counter. Katy, a paper napkin tucked under her chin, knelt on a stool watching Miss Nonie spooning sprinkles on an ice cream cone.

Katy beamed as Miss Nonie handed her the cone. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, precious.”

Mary Beth raised her eyebrow. “A second one?”

“Well, you see, I had sort of an ac-ci-dent with the first one. Miss Nonie said I shouldn’t worry. It happens to Janey and Jimmy all the time. We cleaned it up slick as a whistle. Isn’t that right, Miss Nonie?”

“It is indeed. Slick as a whistle.” The gray-haired woman gave Mary Beth a wink.

“Are Janey and Jimmy your grandchildren?” Mary Beth asked.

“Frank’s twins. A pair of imps.”

Mary Beth could tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she adored those imps. “Do you have any other grandchildren?”

“Not a one,” Nonie said. “There’s not a single in-law among the whole bunch of Outlaws. Frank married, but his wife was killed in a car wreck, and he doesn’t seem much interested in looking for another.”

“J.J. told me. A real tragedy. What about Cole?”

“Divorced. No children. He’s a homicide detective in Houston.”

“A homicide detective? And J.J.’s the sheriff. I love it. Did all the Outlaws end up in law enforcement?”

“Every single one of them,” Nonie told her.

Cole Younger Outlaw was the oldest son. Each of the Outlaw clan was named after an infamous character of the old West. J.J. was Jesse James, his older bother was Frank James; then came Sam Bass Outlaw and Belle Starr Outlaw.

J.J.’s grandfather, old Judge John Outlaw, had said that having a memorable name was an asset in business and politics. He named his sons John Wesley “Wes” Hardin Outlaw, Jr. and Butch Cassidy Outlaw and aimed them toward lives of public service. His idea must have worked. Wes had served as sheriff of Naconiche for as long as Mary Beth could remember and his brother Butch was a state senator.

Now, Nonie had told her, Frank was a judge, Sam was a Texas Ranger and Belle was an FBI agent. Holy!

Mary Beth glanced over her shoulder and was happy to see J.J. returning from the courthouse with a tall, slightly stooped man with a fringe of white hair and a red bow tie. She had enjoyed visiting with Miss Nonie, and Katy had been enthralled with everything in the ice-cream parlor and gift shop, but she was physically and emotionally exhausted. She wanted to get settled and have that bath she’d been fantasizing about.

Mr. Murdock, a courtly gentleman of the old school, apologized profusely for not being able to meet the bus. “The case simply couldn’t be rescheduled.”

“I understand, sir. J.J. took good care of us.”

J.J. grinned. “We aim to please. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going. Just got a call that Cletus Medford’s cows broke the fence and several head are blocking the highway. Duty calls.” He winked at Mary Beth. “I’ll check on you later.” He touched the brim of his hat, turned and trotted for his car.

Mary Beth dragged her gaze from his retreating form, telling herself that she should be grateful for the duty that took him away. Try as she might, she couldn’t think kindly of those cows.

“I have some papers for you to sign in my office,” Mr. Murdock said, “and I expect you’ll be wanting to inspect the property. Shall we do that tomorrow morning?”

“Well, I suppose that the papers can wait until then, but I’d like to go on to the motel now. I’m without transportation. Could you drive us?”

“Certainly. I would be delighted. I see you’ve injured your foot. Let me retrieve my automobile, and I’ll pick you up out front.”

“Great. Our bags are over at the feed store.”

The lawyer hurried out, and Mary Beth said her goodbyes to Miss Nonie. “I’d love to see Sheriff Wes. What is he doing now that he’s retired?”

Nonie laughed. “Trying to keep from sticking his nose into J.J.’s affairs. He has a clock-repair business in the back of the store. He’s usually around since we live upstairs now, but he drove over to Cherokee an hour or so ago.”

“You don’t live on the ranch anymore?”

She shook her head. “With all our brood grown, the two of us just rattled around in that big house, so we divided up the ranch and gave it to the kids. We have a nice apartment upstairs that suits us fine. Oh, there’s Dwight.” Nonie gave Mary Beth and Katy another hug and waved to them as they went outside to the aging red Cadillac parked at the curb.

After they retrieved their luggage from the feed store, Mr. Murdock drove out toward the edge of town—which was really only a quarter of a mile or so from the square.

“I took it upon myself to make reservations for you at Ouida’s Bed-and-Breakfast,” the lawyer said. “I think you’ll find the place quite cozy. After you’ve had a chance to look over the property, I’m sure you’ll be anxious to rest and refresh yourself from your long trip.”

Mary Beth frowned. Why were they pushing the B and B? “That’s very kind of you, but we were planning to stay at the motel.” She didn’t add that they couldn’t afford to stay at Ouida’s place.

“The motel? But—but you can’t do that!”

“Why not? I own it, don’t I?”

“Yes, of course, but it simply isn’t suitable.”

“Why not?”

He pulled to a stop in front of a row of ramshackle buildings. “See for yourself.”

Stunned by the sight, she couldn’t speak. What had once been a neat strip of rooms separated by individual carports, with flowers overflowing from window boxes, was now an uninhabitable mess. Most of the paint had peeled away and the little that was left was a grimy, unrecognizable color covered by layers of graffiti. Windows were broken out and boarded up. Weeds grew waist-high around the place. Even the For Sale sign in front looked dilapidated and forlorn.

A sick feeling coiled in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to weep, but she wouldn’t—not yet, not here. She ground her teeth and tried to control the panic threatening to erupt.

Katy hung over the back seat, gawking. “What’s that place, Mommy? Is it haunted?”

“No, sugarplum, it’s not haunted. Mr. Murdock, is the restaurant this bad?”

“Actually, no. It was in use until last week. A Mexican place. Quite good food, in fact. Unfortunately, the tenants skipped town owing two months rent and with six months left on their lease.”

“Let’s look at it,” she said, her shoulders sagging. She didn’t hold out much hope that it would have a bathtub.