Читать книгу Colton And The Single Mum - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Chapter 2

“You know how hard you’ve been working to stay out of Esmée da Costa’s way?” Finn asked.

Brayden regarded him warily. “Yes.”

“Looks like she found you anyway.”

Brayden followed the direction of his chief’s nod. Until now, he wasn’t aware he’d had any expectation about how Esmée would look. He certainly hadn’t expected to see a petite, pretty woman with long auburn hair and huge dark eyes. She was holding the hand of a little boy, who wore a red sweatshirt, and she was laughing at something Hester Mull was saying. Having looked her way, Brayden was having a hard time dragging his gaze away again.

After a moment or two, he realized Finn was waiting for some kind of response. He shrugged and turned away. “I need to get Echo ready for the manhunt.”

Each of the K-9s in the unit had a different specialty and the dog show was an opportunity to show the public what they did. Echo was trained as a scent-specific search dog, also known as a trail dog. If he was given something belonging to a missing person, Echo would discriminate that scent from the others around it and use it to hunt for the person it matched. Each year, during the dog show, Brayden would select members of the public and ask them to hide before using Echo to find them in a canine game of hide-and-seek. It was one of the most popular features of the day.

“Officer Colton?” The voice was low-pitched and musical and the aroma that invaded his nostrils was subtle and floral.

He swung around quickly, encountering a smile that, in any other circumstances, would have done him a whole powerful lot of good. Up close, Esmée was even more beautiful than from a distance, with dainty features and golden skin tones. The top of her head was level with his shirt pocket and she tilted her head back to look at him.

She was eye-catching in her short, brightly patterned skirt, over which she wore a lace blouse and a faded denim jacket. Black lace-up ankle boots drew Brayden’s attention to her slender legs.

“I’m Esmée da Costa. We seem to keep missing each other.”

“No, Ms. da Costa. I’ve been avoiding you.”

Her smile widened. It was possibly the most enchanting smile he’d ever seen and he was working hard to not be enchanted. “I knew that. I was being diplomatic.”

She was stunning and just gazing at her was a reminder to his body that it had been a long time since he had been this close to a woman. Maybe it was time to do something about that. Not with this woman, obviously...

“This must be Echo.” As she stroked the dog’s head, Brayden’s well-trained K-9 partner forgot his manners and licked her bare knee. Esmée laughed. Smiling and laughing seemed to come naturally to her. If she hadn’t been making a documentary that had the potential to ruin his sister, he’d have been tempted to join in. “Oh, hey...is that a Red Ridge greeting? The knee licking?”

“Looks like it is now.” He really couldn’t blame Echo for his lapse. She had the nicest knees.

“I know you’re busy.” She waved a hand to indicate the compound, where the K-9s were waiting patiently for their partners. “And I need to get back to my little boy, but I’d love to fix up a time to speak to you.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” He was about to launch into his rehearsed speech about her chosen profession, when the sound of a woman’s voice raised in shrill alarm drew his attention back to the training area.

“Esmée! Oh, dear Lord.” He narrowed his eyes, catching sight of Hester Mull standing at the edge of the K-9 compound with her hand over her mouth. “I just turned away for a second...”

With lightning speed, Esmée had already broken into a run. Catching a glimpse of a small figure in a red sweatshirt among the dogs, Brayden was just behind her. He overtook her before she could run into the compound.

He caught hold of her arm, pulling her back until she was behind him. “Leave this to me.”

“Rhys...” The word was choked from her as she gazed at her son. Weaving his way among the dogs, the boy appeared smaller than ever. There were gasps and exclamations from some of the onlookers.

“Somebody do something. Those dogs will tear him apart.” The unknown woman’s voice grated on Brayden’s nerves.

Catching sight of Danica Gage, a K-9 trainer, he gestured for her to keep the onlookers away and ask them to be quiet. As Brayden stepped into the compound, Rhys approached Echo. Wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck, the boy pressed his face into thick, golden fur. When Brayden reached them, Echo gave him a look that seemed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Echo stayed perfectly still as Brayden carefully loosened Rhys’s hands from around his neck. As soon as he had freed the boy from the dog, Esmée was there. Dropping to her knees at her son’s side, she scooped him into her arms.

“Dog,” Rhys said, pointing to Echo.

“What did you say?” Esmée stared at him, her face growing pale.

“Dog.” Rhys seemed slightly impatient at being asked to say the word again.

Esmée’s hand shook as she raised it to cover her lips. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over as she gazed at him.

“I know it looked bad, but he wasn’t in any real danger.” Since she was clearly in shock, Brayden attempted to reassure her. “These dogs are well trained. None of them would hurt a child, and Echo is just a big cuddly toy.”

She shook her head, the tears flowing faster now. “You don’t understand. Rhys doesn’t talk. That was his first word.”

* * *

Brayden squatted next to Rhys, who stood within the circle of Esmée’s arms. She was still having a hard time believing what she’d just heard.

“This is Echo.” As Brayden pronounced each word slowly and deliberately, Esmée held her breath.

“Ko.” Rhys tried out the word carefully.

“Close enough.” Brayden held out his hand, inviting the little boy to come closer. “It’s okay.” He raised his eyes to Esmée’s face and she knew the reassurance was for her sake more than Rhys’s. “Echo is great with kids.”

So are you. Her son could be a little shy around strangers, but she watched him take Brayden’s outstretched hand. She got to her feet as they approached the dog.

“Esmée, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how he got away from me.” Hester came to stand beside her.

She shook her head. “He said a few words, Hester.” Tears blurred her vision again momentarily. “The dog got him talking.”

“Oh, my.” Hester slid an arm around Esmée’s waist and she leaned her head gratefully against the older woman’s shoulder as they observed Rhys interacting with Echo.

Brayden was talking patiently to the little boy. “Echo can shake hands, but you have to tell him what you want him to do. You have to say ‘paw.’”

As soon as he said the word, Echo raised his paw and Brayden took it, shaking it to demonstrate what he meant. Rhys started to laugh. It was a sound Esmée hadn’t heard since that awful night in Wales when Gwyn had attacked her. Although he often smiled, when Rhys had retreated into his silent world, he had stopped laughing.

Now, watching Brayden shake hands with Echo, her little boy’s musical chuckle rang out. It was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

“Now you say it.” Brayden positioned Rhys in front of Echo. “Say ‘paw.’”

Instead, Rhys gave the dog another hug. “Ko.” His voice was muffled by Echo’s fur.

“Can I get a picture?” Esmée’s hand shook as she took her cell phone out of her pocket.

“Sure. Echo is a narcissist, he loves posing for photographs,” Brayden said.

As if to demonstrate, as soon as Esmée aimed her phone to take the picture, Echo shifted position so his search-and-rescue vest was on display. He looked up at her, big eyes shining, his mouth wide as if he was smiling. She had never had much contact with dogs. Her mother’s job had kept them moving around too much for them to own one when Esmée was growing up. Now, looking at Echo’s kind, intelligent face, she thought there was probably a lot to be said for the benefit of a canine companion.

“Let’s try the paw thing once more.”

Esmée realized what Brayden was doing. He was using his dog as therapy, getting Rhys to talk to Echo. Her throat tightened with gratitude toward this man she didn’t know. No one had grasped what Rhys needed so quickly, or done something about it with such efficiency.

Slowly, patiently, Brayden got Rhys to say the word paw to Echo. Rhys squealed with delight when Echo lifted his paw on command. He shook it, then insisted on doing it over and over.

“That dog is going to have a sore leg.” Even though she was laughing, Hester had tears in her eyes as she hugged Esmée.

“Now it’s Mommy’s turn to shake hands,” Brayden said. “Tell her to come over here.”

Esmée held her breath as Rhys looked over his shoulder, his eyes shining. “Mommy, say ‘paw.’” He pointed. “Ko.”

Although she had stayed positive, telling herself he would talk, there had been times when she had wondered if she would ever hear him call her “Mommy.” All she knew was she’d have given everything she owned to hear that word on his lips. As she sank to her knees next to Brayden, wrapping an arm around Rhys’s waist, she wanted to relish the moment, to imprint it on her memory forever.

Rhys wasn’t going to give her time to get emotional. “Say ‘paw.’” Having found his voice, he seemed determined to use it.

Laughing, Esmée went through the routine of shaking hands with Echo, who, she decided, must be the most patient dog in the world.

Brayden straightened and stood over them. “Sorry to break this up, but Echo and I have to go put on a show for the crowd.”

“Of course.” Esmée lifted Rhys into her arms. “We have to say goodbye now.”

“Bye, Ko.” He waved a hand over her shoulder at the dog.

Esmée wondered if Brayden had any idea what he’d just done. For an instant, they gazed at each other. His eyes were unusual. More green than blue and fringed by thick, dark lashes, their expression was intense. When she first saw him, her first thought had been that he was unapproachable. Devastatingly handsome, but, oh, so severe.

Now she was being forced to rethink her first impression. Because she was sure he had deliberately taken time out of his busy schedule to spend with Rhys when he had figured out that her little boy needed a push to keep him talking. Maybe he didn’t know he had just changed her life, but Brayden Colton had done a good thing for a stranger. That had to make him a special kind of person. She hadn’t formed any idea about his sister, but Brayden thought Demi was innocent. More than ever, Esmée wanted to hear his opinion.

“Thank you.” It seemed an inadequate thing to say, but it was all she had. The emotion was still close to the surface. Even those two words had her throat tightening painfully all over again.

“All part of the service.” Somehow, she sensed Brayden understood the raw emotion that was churning through her. He placed a hand briefly on Rhys’s shoulder. “He’s a great kid.”

“He is.” She rested her cheek against Rhys’s curls. “He’s the best.”

He reached into his top pocket, pulling out his shades. “Oh, and that interview you wanted?”

“Yes?” Her heart beat a little faster. She wasn’t sure whether it was at the prospect of the interview, or the chance to spend more time with him. Possibly it was both.

He slid the shades on, hiding his eyes. Hiding himself. “Still not happening.”

* * *

It was a good thing Echo knew what he was doing because Brayden had been afflicted by a curious inability to concentrate. It was a unique experience for someone who was usually focused, and it was annoying him intensely.

He was well aware of the reason for his distraction. Throughout the K-9 demonstration, during which the police dogs showed off their different skills, his eyes seemed to have developed a will of their own. No matter how hard he tried to keep his gaze on what was happening around him, his eyes insisted on wandering to the picnic rug where Esmée was sitting with Rhys and Hester.

Although they were some distance away, Rhys was a splash of bright color in his red sweatshirt, and Esmée’s skirt was equally eye-catching. Brayden choked back a laugh. She could be camouflaged to blend in with her surroundings. He’d still find her.

The truth was, Esmée da Costa had shaken him and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. The fact that she was five foot three inches of delicious femininity hadn’t escaped his notice, but it was not the only reason she had grabbed his attention.

Even though she looked like every man’s hottest fantasy, he’d been ready with a few well-chosen words of angry dismissal when she’d mentioned an interview. Then the drama with her little boy had unfolded. What he’d seen then had been remarkable. When Rhys said his first words, Brayden had been able to feel the emotion coming off Esmée in waves. In her eyes, he had seen hope mingling with a love so intense it was fierce.

He had spent time with Rhys for the kid’s own sake. Something about the little boy had reminded Brayden of himself. When Esmée said her son hadn’t spoken until today, it was clear Rhys had problems that went deep. Brayden didn’t know what they were. As a child, his own intense shyness had been crippling. After knowing Rhys for only a matter of minutes, he wouldn’t presume to say he knew how the boy felt. All he could say was he remembered what it was like to wish he could retreat behind an imaginary wall in a grown-up world. He’d seen a way to reach out, and Rhys’s smile had been the only reward he’d wanted.

When he saw Esmée’s reaction to Rhys’s first words, he had experienced a strong desire to go further and help her as well as her kid. The feeling was so strong he had put aside his personal animosity toward her purpose for coming to Red Ridge. Had even possibly forgotten all about the story she was covering and just enjoyed that brief encounter with her and her son. As incredible as it seemed, for the first time since Bo Gage had been found shot dead with a cummerbund stuffed in his mouth, Brayden had stopped thinking about the investigation.

As his gaze strayed in Esmée’s direction again, he decided it was worth a reminder that the presence of a child indicated there was a father around somewhere. Not that he had any intention of letting a pair of big dark eyes and those pretty legs with their lickable knees divert him from who she was. A few wrong words from Esmée could hurt Demi, and Brayden wasn’t going to add to his sister’s problems.

With that thought in his mind, he glanced at his cell phone. He had gotten into the habit of willing Demi to get in touch, even though he knew she wouldn’t. Brayden didn’t have much of a relationship with any of his half siblings; they’d all been raised by different mothers. They were all close in age, and had lived nearby when they were growing up—he and his older sister, Quinn, had even been in the same class at school—but their mothers had instilled a sense of distrust in them that had lasted into adulthood. Brayden, Quinn and Shane didn’t dislike each other. They just had nothing in common and no reason to get to know each other.

Demi was different. They weren’t exactly friends, but their shared love of the outdoors had brought them together when they were growing up and a bond had developed between them because of events that had come their way. It was the reason Brayden was certain his sister wasn’t a killer. It was also how he knew she wouldn’t contact him. Strong-willed, stubborn and feisty, Demi was also fiercely loyal. She wouldn’t put Brayden in a position where he had to choose between her and his job.

He just wished she would get in touch with someone to let them know she was okay. Those rumors were swirling around town that Demi was pregnant with Bo Gage’s baby. Her critics were claiming it as further proof of her guilt. Bo dumped her and was marrying someone else while she was carrying his child, so she killed him? Brayden shook his head. Demi had a temper, but she was more likely to confront Bo and land a punch on him that would break his nose. And the idea that Demi had then continued killing other bridegrooms? Jack Parkowski was the fourth victim. Fourth. Brayden just didn’t buy into the idea that his sister was out somewhere close by, stalking and killing engaged men.

Even so, the evidence against Demi wasn’t good. A search of her house had revealed photos and love letters to Demi from Bo, with big Xs across them and the word Liar scrawled in marker across one letter. No matter how bad things seemed, if she would just give herself up, Brayden was sure they could clear her name.

The K-9 demonstration was over and Brayden looked in Esmée’s direction once more. She was chasing Rhys in a circle around their picnic rug, letting him stay just ahead of her. Almost as if she sensed him watching, she looked up and stared back at Brayden across the distance between them. Hurriedly, he turned away to help Danica dismantle the agility equipment.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and alcohol fumes greeted him as he turned his head. Brayden resisted the temptation to groan.

“Saw you talking to that pretty little reporter a while ago, son.” His father, Rusty, only ever called Brayden “son” when he wanted to borrow money from him.

“She’s not a reporter.”

“Whatever she is, that would be one mighty fine way to spend an afternoon.” Rusty winked and elbowed Brayden in the ribs. “Maybe I’ll invite her over to the Pour House. Tell her my side of the story while we, uh...relax.”

Brayden had given up on wishing Rusty would treat women with respect. Usually, he called his father out on the worst of his comments without much hope that he would be listened to. For the first time ever, real anger blazed through him at his father’s attitude. The thought of Rusty leering at Esmée infuriated him almost as much as the idea that he would contemplate discussing Demi’s situation with a stranger. A stranger who was here to make a documentary. To expose every aspect of their lives to the world.

“Stay away from her.” The words came out harder than he’d intended.

“Whatever you say.” Rusty held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Look, I have a problem—”

“How much?” Brayden didn’t want to hear the latest inventive reason why Rusty needed cash.

“Fifty should do it.”

Brayden handed him the money and Rusty stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. He stooped to pat Echo before wandering away, whistling tunelessly. Despite telling himself he wouldn’t, Brayden turned once more to look at Esmée.

She’d gone. He already had plenty of reasons of his own to stay away from her. The fact that he was more disappointed than relieved that she was no longer around added about a dozen more.