Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3 (13 page)

She just rolled her eyes and closed the door.

Barbara made him go home.

Listening to her was the smartest thing he had done in the last fifteen minutes.

He had forty-eight hours to feel badly about what he had said. Barbara set him straight in no uncertain terms, and did he ever feel like a jackass. The man he saw was a painter.

He immediately called to apologize for all the good it did. She did not answer her phone. The tickets to the Genghis Khan exhibit in Dallas were a peace offering. That was almost three days ago. Her voicemail was full, so he stopped calling. He also came to the conclusion he was much too emotionally involved to remain objective, feeling it was the reason he was currently in this mess. He was stepping totally away and letting Barbara take charge of the detail, but not before he did one last thing.

Hoping her machine was empty, he picked up the phone and dialed. It surprised him that she even answered. Hearing her voice for the first time in almost three days, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Jamie, I know you’re upset with me, and I totally understand, but I need your help.” Josh was desperate. “Jamie, please, don’t hang up. It’s not for me. It’s about Jesse, my daughter, and I need some female advice.”

She listened to his plea for help. The tone of his voice and the fact the quandary was circling around his daughter made the difference.

If the favor were just for his sake, she probably would continue to keep it professional between them. But his daughter was another matter entirely.

Although she did wonder briefly why he had not asked Barbara for advice where his daughter was concerned, she figured it was a professional relationship he did not wish to cloud with personal issues even if she had found Barbara to be a great friend.

“This had better be on the level, Josh,” she warned.

“Trust me, it is.”

“What does she need?” Jamie was glad he called. She was beginning to feel guilty about the way she was giving him the cold shoulder. Maybe this could be an icebreaker for them, her way of saying she was sorry, too.

Her tone was completely different Josh was quick to note. Looking over his shoulder at the clock on the wall of his study, it would be a couple of hours before Jesse came home from school giving him time to make the round trip.

“Can I come over? I really don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

She looked around at her house. It was a complete and total disaster. Having recently purchased the fixer-upper, boxes were still piled everywhere. The mess was controlled, but still chaos. She was painting a room at a time, and that was not happening very fast. The intense training was taking up most of her spare time. Fall classes were particularly heavy and as a result, after three months, her bedroom was all that was completed, and that had happened only because she hired it done. The painter and paperhanger had just left. Having a meeting in her bedroom was out of the question. Even if tying him down and giving him a slow and torturous death at one point over the last two days had its appeal, she needed to let that go.

“No, I’ll come to you,” she agreed.

Josh gave her his address and directions as well as his home phone and instructions to bring the bodyguard. Not many could find the ranch on the first try, so he was very surprised when less than two hours later she pulled her Explorer to a stop in the front circle driveway.

He walked out to greet her noticing the guard was noticeably absent.

She saw the look on his face.

She smiled knowingly. “Before you get all bent out of shape, Davis followed me as far as your driveway. By now, he is probably halfway to the coffee house we passed a few miles back. I told him I’d call once I was ready to go.”

“I would not put it past you to thumb your nose at my request. At least that is one less worry for me.” Josh was thinking the women in his life were going to be the death of him.

She was coming along with her lessons, but still she was not proficient enough to suit him. She knew just enough to be cocky and not nearly enough to survive any attack serious in taking her life. He would keep at her until she was ready.

“I’m sorry, Doc. Did I say hello?” he asked forgetting his manners. He was happy she had agreed to come.

“Now you have and hey yourself,” she softened seeing the distinct mask of worry on his face. Something was really bothering him if he had swallowed his male pride and called for her assistance.

They were again on speaking terms only because the investigation was still ongoing and her lessons in self-defense demanded it if she wished to continue with them. She did. She just needed a few days to cool off. Holding a grudge, she discovered, was hard work. Fortunately, for Josh and the rest of the world, she had not inherited that ability from her father’s side of the family. Their ability to hold a grudge was the stuff of legends.

Josh was great company when he was not playing cop. He made her feel safe, he made her feel feminine, and she had to admit there were several times she thought he would kiss her as they lay flat together on the mat only inches separating their lips. She had to say she was disappointed he had not, that was, until the point he managed to plummet himself right into the cellar.

“Thanks for coming, Doc.” He held her door open for her noticing, as he always did, the unusual pendant gracing the divot at the base of her throat. “Please, come inside where it is a little warmer.”

It was late November now with cold winds blowing straight out of the north. Smoke whiffed from the top of the stone chimney bringing with it smells of hardwood burning. Her house had a fireplace for all the good it did her. The chimney was full of old birds’ nests. Until she could get a sweep out to clear it, a fire was decidedly out of the question.

He invited her into the house. Opening the front porch door, he stomped the snow off his boots and noticed the way her jeans fit, showing just enough curve from under her black leather jacket. He quickly reminded himself why she was here, and it was not for his viewing pleasure.

Inviting her to have a seat and offering her a drink, she asked for anything decaffeinated and waited for him to return from the kitchen. She made herself at home. It was easy to do.

His home was comfortable, she noted, as she looked around in unashamed curiosity taking in the décor, or lack there of was more like it. It was neat, but lacking a woman’s touch even though she knew he had a housekeeper. The chocolate colored leather sofas were nice and comfortable, but they could have used some pillows to soften the lines.

There was little in the way of decorations. A Thomas Kinkaid hung on the wall, a Remington bronze sat atop a pillar in the far corner, but it was the tapestry that fascinated her. It was a very fine example of ancient textiles, and she wondered where he had acquired such a fine, museum-quality piece. She made a note to ask. There was a beautiful christening gown preserved behind glass, a reminder of a cherished memory. A baby rattle, silver spoon, and some other childhood memorabilia hung behind a shadow box, too. The morning’s paper was still on the coffee table turned to the business section. That surprised her. Sports would have been her first guess. She noticed his body armor casually tossed over the back of the loveseat as if he had pulled it off right there before going up the stairs. It was a stark reminder of the line of work he had chosen.

To protect and to serve. He had dedicated his life to the well-being of others. That can’t make him all bad, she supposed. He had dedicated a lot of his time and energies to her well-being, too. Her life was not the only one to have suffered a break in the routine.

He came up a rung on the ladder.

The fire was inviting, and so she walked casually to the hearth. Standing there, hands stretched out to the warmth, she studied the family photos covering the massive mantle. It definitely said a lot about the man behind the shield. Family was obviously very important to him.

He just moved up another notch on her scale, but he was still in the cellar.

She knew the moment he came back into the room even with her back turned. There was just something about him she found fascinating. There was chemistry between them.

“Your daughter?” she asked picking up a photo of a lovely girl who was the feminine version of her father. Long dark hair framed a lovely oval face. Her smile was bright, and her eyes of cobalt blue were full of intelligence and mischief.

“Yes, and she can be a real handful. Guess she takes after me in that regard, but she is my heart and my soul,” he said grinning and handing Jamie's drink to her.

He came up two rungs on that one, she thought.

Josh watched as she surveyed his home. He knew it was no showcase. He was a bachelor. Otherwise, he would not have made the call. Even though she had never allowed him into her home, she did not strike him as the kind to have a showcase either.

She was a single woman, a scientist, and according to the daily reports, her bodyguards submitted she was spending way more hours at the university than she should. Work might be important, but the house probably wasn’t.

“I hope you realize how much I appreciate you coming,” he broke the silence. “We have not exactly been on the same page the last few days professionally or personally.”

“No. I guess we haven’t,” she agreed.

“I’d very much like to change that and call a truce. I was out of line,” he offered sincerely. She could hear it in his voice.

She put the photo back in its place of honor and turning around, she watched as he came around the end of the sofa. Somehow, even in this large space he filled it. There was a presence to this lawman that was larger than life. It was a quality she could not quite pin down or place her finger on.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the sofa that sat adjacent to his chair.

She was comfortable with him regardless of the fact she had felt closed in by his hovering. She concluded she should never have let her frustrations in having all his men around get to the boiling point. Now that she was here, she realized she had missed being with him the last few days. He helped to fill a hole she had not realized was even there.

“Ok, Lawman, so what is so important that you would risk my wrath?” she asked half teasing.

“She is,” he said referring to Jesse. He sighed heavily, collecting his thoughts. “I’m a man, Jamie, and as much as I love her, there are things I just don’t get no matter how hard I try to get in touch with my feminine side.”

“You have one of those?” she teased.

He laughed ironically. “Apparently not,” he replied staring at the top of the soda can as if he were somehow embarrassed for having such a perceived flaw.

“Alright, I see we need to do some serious triage here. I can't help you unless I know the problem. I read bones, not minds.”

She watched as he slowly looked up to meet her gaze. There was deep worry reflected in those eyes of sapphire blue and lines of dread on his handsome face which would have swept her off her feet had they met under different circumstances.

He spoke one dreaded word.

“Prom.”

His sigh of relief was audible, finally having it out in the open as if it had been some awful secret he had been harboring. She kept her demeanor serious when in reality she wanted to laugh. Here he was larger than life, could probably take on half the Dallas Cowboy offensive line, had undoubtedly been in many life or death situations, but he was scared of a fifteen-year-old in need of a prom dress. Somehow, he just became human in her eyes.

“Ahh, her first dance is coming up and you don’t know the first thing about buying a dress. Right?” she queried already knowing his answer.

“That obvious?”

The look on his face was priceless. He was almost squirming.

“Yep, ’fraid so, my friend,” she nodded, patting his leg.

“Until a week ago, I don’t think she even knew what a dress was, much less that she actually wanted one. Now, I’m finding Cosmopolitan magazines and makeup that I did not sanction in the bathroom and perfume on her dresser called
Seduction
or Obsession or something suggestive. Trust me, this is not my little girl.”

“You’re right, Josh. It isn’t. Your little girl is growing up.” She smiled knowingly at him.

He looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues.

“It happens, Josh. Children grow up. It is a physical and indisputable law of nature.”

“And exactly when did that happen? Jesus, Jamie, what am I going to do?” he said running his hand through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck in aggravation.

“You do nothing except give her guidance, give her realistic boundaries, and have faith you are raising her right, which I’m sure you are.” She smiled.

He was a father, and no doubt he did need her help, but not as much as he might think.

He had just crawled out of the cellar and onto even ground.

“In spite of our differences, Josh, I have to say from what I’ve seen, you are a good, decent man who cares about others, sometimes maybe too much,” she said reaching across, placing a hand on his thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Josh, I’m sure you are a good father, too. Trust your instincts where Jesse is concerned,” she offered looking deeply into his face. She liked what she saw there: honesty, loyalty, and strength.

“Instincts, huh?” he asked looking over at this woman who he had not been able to get off his mind for weeks. What were his instincts with her, he wondered? Best not venture there for now, he warned himself.

“Yeah, instincts,” she repeated wondering what was going on behind those very intelligent eyes of his. “What are they telling you?”

“All right then, my instincts are telling me I need to get a strong lock on her bedroom door, one that locks from the outside, and bars for her windows.”

She smiled again thinking how it was sweet he could care enough to call her to help his daughter pick out her dress even when his instincts as a father were to lock her away from the hurt this time in her life would undoubtedly bring her.

“You cannot keep her a child forever, and the tighter you hold her, the more she will slip through your fingers. Trust me on that one.”