Читать книгу The Cowboy Sheriff - Trish Milburn - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Simon watched Keri as she and Ben’s parents handled the heartbreaking details of being next of kin. Her actions and responses were mechanical, like an autopilot program without a shred of emotion. He’d known her nearly their entire lives and felt he’d never known her less.

Keri Mehler had always been one part girl, one part ball of fire. Didn’t matter if she was making moves on the basketball court in high school, yanking her younger brother into line or telling Simon to take a soaring nosedive off the nearest bridge, she always did everything full out. But now? Now the fire was nowhere to be found, replaced by a detachment as cold as the ice that coated the world outside.

Would he be any different if he ever lost Nathan or Ryan?

But Keri’s new reality was even worse. She’d lost almost her entire family. All she had left was a brother who was God only knew where and a baby who’d lived a miracle and a tragedy in the same moment. A baby who would grow up looking to Keri to be her mother.

The door on the opposite side of the room opened and a woman who was probably with Child Protective Services walked in holding a sleeping Hannah. Keri stared without moving for so long that tension and awkwardness began to rob the room of air. The woman with Hannah in her arms shifted her gaze to him.

“She’s been fed and changed,” she said. “And we have some supplies for you—diapers, wipes, food. Car seat, too.”

He nodded then glanced at Keri again. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sadder, emptier. It was as though everything that made her who she was had simply disappeared as if it’d never existed.

Not wanting the woman or anyone with Dallas P.D. to think Keri wasn’t fit to care for Hannah, he started toward the little girl. Keri moved in the same instant, crossing the room to take the only part of Sammi that remained. Though she ran her fingertips across Hannah’s cheek, Keri’s expression didn’t change.

The other woman placed a hand on Keri’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Keri said, her voice as hollow as an empty bucket. She pulled Hannah closer and walked out of the room.

The lady from CPS gave Simon a worried look. “Is she going to be okay?”

He nodded. “Eventually. Just a shock.”

“I can imagine. Does she have help?”

He hesitated a moment. “A brother, friends.” Of course the brother was so off the radar that he didn’t even know his oldest sister was dead yet. But Simon was banking on Keri snapping out of her dazed state and giving her niece all the love and care she could muster. She’d never do anything less. Sammi wouldn’t have named Keri guardian if she hadn’t believed her sister could handle the responsibility.

By the time he reached the corridor, Keri was already at the door to the parking lot. He grabbed the car seat sitting on the floor and followed her.

Without speaking, they worked together to get first the car seat and then Hannah settled into the back of the Tahoe before she froze. As they snapped the seat belt into place, Hannah’s eyes opened. She blinked her bright blue eyes a few times before letting out a wail that would wake the comatose.

Keri jerked back and stared at her niece. Simon was worried he’d been wrong about her being able to care for Hannah, but then something seemed to register in her mind. She dug in the diaper bag until she found a pacifier, a very girly pink one with a flower design on the end.

“Look what I found,” she said to Hannah as she waved the pacifier in front of the little girl’s grasping hands. She allowed Hannah to snatch the pacifier and shove it into her mouth.

Keri smoothed Hannah’s wispy blond hair with a gentleness he didn’t know she possessed. His breath caught midway through an exhalation. Why had that simple gesture moved something inside him, something way too darn close to his heart?

He shook his head and made his way to the driver’s seat. “We better get to the hotel before the streets get slick again.” No way was he driving on frozen roads with a baby in the car, one who’d already cheated death once.

They all were due some sleep. He’d slept like crap the night before, and he doubted that sorrow and anger had let Keri sleep, either.

And it was the God’s honest truth that he needed to get away from her for a few minutes to let the wildly inappropriate and unexpected sliver of attraction he’d felt toward her fade away. To let his common sense make a reappearance and remind him that what he was feeling was no more than sorrow for her loss, for all her losses.

Even the one for which she still blamed him.

* * *

KERI WANTED TO RUN AWAY. Maybe if she moved fast enough, she could outrun the past. And if she headed in the right direction, maybe she could bring Sammi back. Her mom. Her dad. Life before Carter went down the wrong path.

Her jaw clenched at that thought, especially considering who was sitting next to her. She stared out the side window at the frozen landscape instead of at Simon Teague. If she looked at him now, it would only add to the pain ripping her to shreds inside. She felt like wailing but that would wake up Hannah, who’d fallen back to sleep as Simon eased the car along the dark and largely deserted streets. Ice hung heavy from trees and the edges of the buildings they passed, and she had no doubt that black ice lurked on the dark surfaces of the streets where what had melted during the day had refrozen.

People with any sense weren’t out in these kinds of conditions. But then most people didn’t have to pick up their orphaned niece and make arrangements for their sister’s funeral.

She swallowed the jagged, lemon-size lump in her throat, pushed away the need to fall completely apart. She didn’t have that luxury. Hannah needed her. Plus, Simon was the last person she wanted seeing her turn into a blubbering mess.

The only reason she was allowing him to chauffeur her around was the complete and utter lack of options. Though it had galled her to accept his help, she’d convinced herself he was just doing his job, ensuring the safety of the citizens of Blue Falls. And despite the haze of pain, she had enough sense to know she shouldn’t be driving on icy roads in her current state.

The Spencers had offered to let her stay with them, probably more because they didn’t want to be parted from Hannah than anything, but Keri couldn’t face being trapped inside four walls with that kind of deep sorrow. She had enough of her own to carry without exposing herself to even more. She couldn’t crack, and witnessing that kind of raw loss might just do the cracking.

Some people looked to fate as a shining beacon of hope. She knew better. Fate was a cruel, heartless bitch who did nothing but take.

Just as she was thinking fate was probably getting extra giggles out of the fact that Keri had been left with no one better than Simon Teague to turn to, he pulled into the parking lot for the hotel.

As he switched off the engine, she hopped out of the car, eager to have some space between them. She had Hannah unbuckled and the carrier removed from the car seat base by the time Simon reached the back of the SUV for their bags. She had to give him credit for one thing—he wasn’t forcing her to talk. This streak of silence had to be some sort of record for him.

Normally, he’d talk to anyone about anything. Didn’t matter if it was politics with the morning coffee crowd at the Primrose Café or feigning lovesickness amongst the members of the local Red Hat Society. She’d even seen him wink at Girl Scouts selling cookies, making them giggle and hide their faces in embarrassment. Though she doubted even he could find an opening for teasing or flirting in their current situation.

As she carefully placed her feet one in front of the other on the icy parking lot, Simon hurried up next to her.

“I can carry her.”

“I’m okay.” She shifted the carrier to her side and gripped the handle firmly.

Simon strode ahead then held the hotel’s door open for her. She mumbled a thank-you without meeting his eyes, then stepped into the warmth of the lobby. She scanned the grouping of cushy chairs next to a faux fireplace and a rack full of tourist brochures as Simon headed for the registration desk.

Hannah woke and began to fuss. Did she know her mother was gone? Would her crying get worse the longer Sammi didn’t make an appearance?

Keri shook her head. She couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t think about anything more than the next few minutes. By the time she dug Hannah’s bottle out of the diaper bag, Simon had them all checked into the hotel.

He nodded to his right, then headed down the corridor. “I got you a room at the end of the hall with mine next door,” he said.

What he didn’t say made her pause for a moment. Was he positioning himself as a shield between a potentially cranky baby and the rest of the guests on the floor? That seemed even more likely when she realized that there wasn’t a room across the hall from hers, just the doorway to the stairs leading to the upper floors.

Simon used one of the key cards to open her door and waited for her to enter the room before carrying in her bags. After he placed them in the corner, he turned toward her and extended the key.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked.

“No. I’m not hungry.” That wasn’t exactly true. Her stomach had been grumbling like a bear for several hours, but she didn’t think food and the spinning in her middle could coexist for long.

Keri took the key card to her room, but Simon made no move to leave. When she looked up, she realized she hadn’t been this close to him in years. They crossed paths, of course. Hard not to in a town the size of Blue Falls. But they weren’t exactly dance partners at the music hall. She’d forgotten just how blue his eyes were, a striking blue-gray.

She swallowed against the memory from when they were fourteen and she’d finally acknowledged to herself that he was passably cute. Not that she’d ever in a million years admit that to anyone else, least of all Simon. She’d rather run through a cactus patch naked.

It’d been one of those sticky hot days. After a baseball game in which Simon and Carter’s team had trounced a team from Fredericksburg, they’d had a party at her house. Pizza, sodas and cold slices of watermelon. And a surreptitious game of spin the bottle. She’d just taken her turn and landed on Simon when her mother had figured out what they were doing and put a stop to it. His lips remained a mystery.

At the time she’d been secretly disappointed, though she’d feigned relief. Two years later, she’d counted herself lucky.

And yet she couldn’t deny his eyes were just as enticing now as they’d been across that empty bottle.

Simon broke eye contact first, snapping her back to the present. He shifted his gaze to where she’d placed Hannah and her carrier on the bed.

“If you need anything, just call or knock on my door,” he said.

“We’re fine.” She tried to sound stronger than she felt, but she just ended up sounding like a wasp set on stinging. Still, she kept going. “You don’t even have to stay. We’ll ride back with Sunshine after…” She swallowed hard. “After the funeral.” Keri strode toward the door and held it open for him. She had no room in her cluttered and bruised thoughts for memories of a stupid, juvenile crush. Had no idea why that particular memory had chosen this of all moments to float to the surface.

This time, Simon didn’t hesitate. He walked out the door without another word. She closed her door before he could even slip the key into his. As if on cue, Hannah began to cry.

* * *

THREE HOURS LATER, SIMON returned to the hotel with two barbecue dinners. He heard Hannah’s cries as soon as he turned into their corridor. Sounded like his plan of putting them at the end of the hallway wasn’t going quite as planned.

He had to knock twice before Keri came to the door, a red-faced and teary Hannah propped on her hip. Keri looked as if she was at the end of her rope. Without even asking for an invitation, he edged his way into the room and closed the door behind him.

After setting the bag of food on the little round table, he held out his arms. “Let me have her.”

“I’ve got her.”

“Keri.” He waited until she met his eyes, refusing to give in to her inherent stubbornness and determination to do everything on her own. “Let me give you a break.”

She hesitated a moment before shifting Hannah toward him. Even after he had a firm hold on the child, she didn’t let go.

“I won’t drop her,” he said gently. It felt odd to speak to her that way, so unlike their friendly teasing from years ago or the thinly veiled animosity of more recent years.

Finally, she let go and sank onto the edge of the bed.

“I can’t get her to calm down. What if she never stops crying?”

“She will.” Eventually, Hannah would get used to seeing Keri’s face instead of her mother’s. A profound sadness welled within him at the thought that someday, maybe not that far in the future, Hannah would forget her parents entirely.

He bounced Hannah softly in his arms as he watched Keri close her eyes and run her hands through her hair. The way the strands were sticking out, it wasn’t the first time her hair had gotten that treatment tonight.

When Keri opened her eyes again, he nodded toward the bag on the table. “You need to eat.”

“I just want to sleep. It feels like ages since I slept.”

“Food first. You haven’t eaten all day.”

She gave him an odd look, as though she couldn’t believe he’d noticed. That or she really hadn’t realized she’d had nothing but a couple of bottles of water since before he’d arrived at the bakery with the horrible news about the accident. Whatever she was thinking, she heaved herself off the bed and over to the table. She sank into one of the chairs and opened the box.

He turned his attention to Hannah and bopped her nose gently with his index finger. “Now there, little missy. Let’s see if we can figure out something to do besides crying.” He carried her over to where he’d tossed a second bag into the chair opposite Keri and pulled out a stuffed bunny he’d found at the Walmart next to the barbecue place. “Look at what I found,” he said in that goofy, higher pitched voice that adults seemed predisposed to use around babies. He wiggled it in front of Hannah, using one of its floppy ears to tickle her nose.

Hannah let out another cry, albeit a bit halfhearted, then a sniffle before it all was replaced with a smile as she grabbed the bunny.

“Where did that come from?” Keri asked before shoving a fry in her mouth.

“I’m guessing China.” He consulted the tag on the rabbit’s fuzzy behind. “Yep, China.”

He glanced over at Keri and saw an all-too-familiar annoyance on her face. This time, he didn’t mind it. Anything was better than the terrible blankness. They weren’t friends anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see her that damaged.

“So, what shall we call this guy?” he asked Hannah as he placed her on the bed and he lay on his side next to her. Though her face was still flushed and tear-stained, she’d done a complete one-eighty. Now she giggled and flapped the bunny’s ears up and down, making it look as if it was going to take off in flight.

Keri shoved her chair away from the table. “She needs to eat, too. I tried to feed her earlier, but she wouldn’t stop crying long enough.”

Simon put up a hand to stop her. “You keep eating. I’ll feed her.”

Keri gave him a raised eyebrow. “You know how to feed a baby?”

“Can’t be that hard. Plus, I’ve got to get in some practice. Going to have a new niece of my own soon. And I plan to be her favorite uncle.”

Keri snorted, and it sounded so much like the normal her that he felt some hope she would get through this. “If the kid’s smart, she’ll pick Ryan for that.”

Simon shifted his attention to Hannah, who was now jabbering with her new best friend. “Can you believe that, Hannah? You’ll vouch for me, won’t you?”

Hannah gave him a wide grin that melted his heart. She really was a cute little thing. It broke his melted heart to think of all she’d lost without even knowing it.

He managed to keep Keri eating and Hannah from crying over the next few minutes as he fed the little girl. When Hannah had eaten the last of her green beans and applesauce, he noticed Keri was leaning on one of her hands with her eyes closed.

“You need to get some sleep.”

She opened her eyes slowly as though it was difficult to force her eyelids into compliance. “I’ll sleep when she does.”

“I’ll take care of her.” She opened her mouth to protest further. “Listen. I know you don’t like this, but for right now let’s put away everything else. Think of it as me doing my job if it makes you feel better, but you need to rest. You can’t keep going like this. You’re no good to yourself, no good to Hannah if you’re toast.”

She pressed her lips together as if she was holding in something she wanted to say. He could imagine what that might be—that the last person she wanted to accept help from was him. Or something much worse. He’d certainly heard that before.

But she didn’t say anything. She just stood, grabbed her bag and headed for the bathroom.

He stared at the closed door for several seconds before he returned his attention to Hannah. “You’ve got to promise me something, okay?” He doubted she understood him, but she at least seemed to be paying attention. “We’ve got to be quiet so your aunt Keri can get some sleep.” As if she somehow had understood, she curled onto her side with the bunny in her arms.

Simon smiled at her. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker someday. Keri will have to tote a shotgun to keep the boys away from you.” Boys like he’d been.

He scrounged in the diaper bag and found a freshly made bottle, then scooped Hannah into his arms. He’d kill for a recliner right now, but the uncomfortable-looking chair at the table would have to do. He pulled it into the corner next to the door and sat with Hannah in his arms.

When Keri came out of the bathroom sporting loose gray pajama pants and a red Oktoberfest T-shirt, she stopped and looked at him. “Give her here. She can go to bed with me.”

He shook his head. “She’s not sleepy yet. We’re just going to sit over here and get to know each other a little better.”

Keri propped her hands on her hips. “And how am I supposed to sleep with you two engaging in baby talk in the corner?”

He met her stare. “Trust me, you’re going to be out in less than five minutes.”

If the situation had been any different, he would have laughed at the familiar fight he saw swirling just beyond the surface. Instead, she threw up her hands in an “I give up” gesture and headed for the bed. Once she’d curled beneath the comforter, she turned off the light next to the bed, leaving only the bathroom light to illuminate the room.

He glanced at the clock as Hannah continued to talk in baby language to her bunny. He’d overestimated how long it would take Keri to fall asleep. Two minutes after her head hit the pillow, she succumbed to fatigue.

That’s when his own hit him. He slid down farther in the chair and pulled Hannah against his chest, banking on the bottle, quiet and lowered lighting putting her out, too. Once she was deeply asleep, he’d ease her into bed next to Keri and make his way to his own bed for some much-needed z’s.

Hannah stilled, and the only sound was that of her sucking on her bottle. Eventually, even that stopped. Somewhere in his mind, Simon realized he’d closed his own eyes and was perilously close to sleep. He had to get up. Maybe he could rest just another minute.