Hunting (14 page)

***

He didn’t have to like it,
but Malachi had to respect her decision. Still, her delivery could
have used some serious work. “I see.”

“
Don’t do that. Don’t look
at me like that.” She shook her head. “I can’t do it. I can’t. And
it wouldn’t be fair to Ruthie or you for me to even
try.”

“
I can’t regret this,
sweetheart. And I won’t.”

“
I’m not asking you to. I’m
just asking you to understand why I can’t do it again.”

Fear. Fear was the main
reason she was backing away. And how could he blame her? She’d
watched the man she loved die right in front of her eyes. Why
wouldn’t she be afraid to love someone else again?

Or afraid to even take the
chance a casual relationship could develop into something deeper.
And hadn’t he long suspected Julia of those kinds of fears? Wasn’t
that why she pulled away from everyone who cared about her in some
way or another?

Why wouldn’t a sexual
romantic relationship terrify her far more than the type of
relationship she shared with Al or Paige, Georgia, or Ana? It
would. Far more. He tried not to take it personally, though it was
hard. He knew he was the first since her husband’s death—didn’t
that count for something?

He wanted her. He couldn’t
deny that. And he wouldn’t. “I want you. I will take you in any way
you can give yourself. But I won’t lie about it, and I won’t hide
it. And since that’s not something you can do. Tonight is it. We’ll
go back to being who we were first thing in the morning. You’ll
hide out in the morgue and I’ll go out chasing UNSUBs. And we’ll
just forget about this, and what could have been between us. About
the chance to build something here, and the fact that we decided
against it. And I hope someday we don’t regret that.”

She already did. Malachi
had turned away from her and grabbed his clothes. He’d settled onto
the couch and basically ignored her after that.

That hurt her. Far more
than she’d thought possible.

But Jules had been hurt
before, and once morning finally came, she came to a resolution.
She’d put it behind her, and focus on Ruthie and building their new
life together. There really wasn’t room in her world for a man like
Malachi Perfect Brockman. How could there be? He’d want the whole
deal—a relationship with a woman who trusted him and was willing to
take those kinds of chances. Chances she’d never take
again.

She just wasn’t good at
romantic relationships.

Rick had been a one-time
thing, a chance that she’d taken. And that chance had been one of
the hardest steps she’d ever forced herself to take. And it had
ended in more pain than she ever wanted to repeat. A man like
Malachi would bring even more hurt. Because every time he left the
PAVAD building there would be a chance that he would never come
back. It was hard enough knowing Georgia and the rest of her
friends faced such odds, but a man she loved? Or could
love?

No Jules couldn’t do it.
Wouldn’t do it. And it was best if they just cut the wound raw now
instead of dragging it out and slowing leaching their souls through
even attempting to be together.

It hurt now, but she’d get
over it.

And so would he.

He was quiet through the
morning and she couldn’t blame him. She wanted him to go back to
St. Louis, let her visit with Ruthie while he got back to his
life.

Her cell rang and she
picked it without checking the number first. “Hello?”

“
Dr. Bellows? This is
Colleen Ashbury.” The woman’s voice was louder than Jules expected.
She held the phone away from her ear, aware that Malachi was able
to hear every bit of the conversation. Oh, well, what did it
matter? At this point, she had few secrets from the man,
anyway.

“
Yes, how are you, Ms.
Ashbury?” Jules straightened where she sat on the couch. Malachi
was buttoning his shirt and he paused to watch her. Jules tried to
ignore him. But how did you ignore a six-foot-four man like Malachi
Brockman? “What time are we meeting today?”

“
That’s why I’m calling. We
had a situation yesterday.”

“
Excuse me? Is Ruthie
alright?” Jules knew the worry was in her tone. Malachi stopped
buttoning his shirt and sat beside her. Jules fought every instinct
to scoot closer to him. He was big, strong, warm, and there. Like
he’d been in that basement and like he’d been just hours ago. There
when she needed him. Why did that bother her so much?

“
Ruthie is fine, but the
new placement isn’t working out. We’re moving Ruthie
today.”

“
Again? That’s ridiculous!”
Anger was quick to surface—Ruthie didn’t need another move. How can
a placement for a three-year-old not work out? Especially a sweet,
lovable child like Ruthie?

“
The only other option is
we transition her to your care today.”

“
How, when, and where?” A
strange calm came over Jules and she knew this was right. She laced
the fingers of her free hand through Malachi’s without realizing
she done it. He leaned his shoulder against hers. Once again a
solid wall of support.

Jules wrote down the
address of the airport and the time of the flight. “I’ll need to
get a car seat. But I’ll be there.”

Two minutes later she was
shaking as she finished brushing her hair.

Malachi hadn’t said a word
since the call, but she could sense he was about to. “Are you ready
for this?”

“
This wasn’t what I’d
planned, no.” And she’d always struggled when things went off plan.
But she supposed she’d have to get used to that—weren’t children
supposed to completely disrupt your plans from the very beginning?
“This sucks. For Ruthie.”

“
Yes, it does. How long has
she been in this placement?”

“
Three weeks. It wasn’t
ideal, but it was working.” First the Lakes, then a group home for
two weeks, and then the Newtons. Poor Ruthie, she had to be
terrified. “But at least I get to take her home today. She’ll be
where she’s wanted from now on. I’d planned to bring Georgia with
me when I picked her up the final time. Or Ed and Marianna. Part of
her family, you know? This changes things.”

“
Exactly. So this was meant
to happen today and in just this way.” He surprised her by grabbing
her shoulders and dropping a fast kiss on her forehead. He held her
for a moment, and she let him. What did that say about her resolve?
“You’ll do just fine. We’d better get a carseat.”

“
We?” She thought he’d be
on his own way to the airport shortly. Didn’t he have to get back
to St. Louis? “What do you mean?”

“
I checked your ticket
while you were in the shower. Didn’t you know? We’re on the same
flight back. I already called the airport and requested a seat next
to you. Just my luck one was available.” He grinned, then sobered.
“You’re going to have to book her a seat.”

“
Shit. I didn’t think about
that. What am I going to do when I get her back to St. Louis? I
only have about half the stuff I need—and no carseat.”

“
I think you’ll do just
fine.” He stood, and then reached a hand out to her. She took it
for the peace offering she knew he meant it as. He pulled her to
her feet. “Come on, Mommy. I’m sure there’s a Wal-Mart around here
somewhere.”

She’d never admit it to
him, but at that exact moment he was exactly what she needed. And
at least she wasn’t going it all alone today. Not today, one of the
biggest of her life.

To her, that meant
something.

She’d been numb for so
long. Cold, empty, feeling nothing. And she’d been fine with that.
She didn’t need anything more. More meant hurt. More meant
remembering Rick and the things they used to do together.
Remembering how she’d failed to help him, and then failed to help
the only family Rick had cared about besides her. Remembered the
feel of Rick and his brother’s blood on her hands there on a hot
July pavement. More meant unfair, unstopping, hurt.

She couldn’t feel that
deeply again, yet as the little girl stepped off the plane, holding
Colleen Ashbury’s hand and clutching the stuffed teddy bear that
went everywhere, a rush of sharp pain hit her chest and almost had
her doubling over.

Regret? Fear? Guilt,
because she didn’t know if she was doing this for her sake or for
that child’s? What was it? Why couldn’t she understand
it?

A warm hand settled onto
her shoulder. “It’s ok to be nervous.”

“
I’m not nervous.” They
both knew she lied. And knew it was worse because he was there. Why
was he there? What had possessed her to let him accompany her to
the airport to meet Ruthie and the social worker? Was it because
they were simply in South Dakota together or because she had feared
doing this alone?

Dammit, was she changing
her mind now?

He muttered something that
sounded like stubborn damned woman but she ignored him. She
couldn’t deal with what she was feeling plus him; not right now.
Not with the acid burning her throat as the tiny little girl—barely
bigger than an average sized child half her age—got
closer.

Part of her—the biggest,
most cowardly part—wanted to turn around and run back to the rental
car waiting for them outside.

It was tempting, oh so very
tempting. But something stopped her, and it wasn’t the hand he
still had on her shoulder.

It was the fear on the
little girl’s face.

If there was one thing
Jules knew intimately, it was fear.

Ruthie didn’t want to enter
through the glass door; Jules had no difficulty seeing that, even
though a good span of space separated them. The rural airport was
not large, and the few passenger planes were small ranch planes
like the one Ruthie had just exited. It was cold, damp, muddy, and
just generally nasty where they were. And once again that wasn’t
fair to the kid in front of her.

Why hadn’t Jules insisted
they meet somewhere else besides this little rundown shack of a
place?

Hadn’t Ruthie deserved
better?

The man behind her seemed
to echo her thoughts. “Once we leave here, let’s take her someplace
nice to eat. Someplace a child would enjoy.”

What would a three-year-old
want? What would Ruthie want? What did Jules really know about this
little girl, anyway? Jules ruthlessly tamped down the rising panic.
“We can do that. If she wants.”

Ms. Ashbury led Ruthie
through the glass doors, and smiled when she saw Jules. Surprise
was on the other woman’s face when she saw the man standing with
her.

He shook the woman’s hand,
and introduced himself. Jules barely noticed, her attention focused
on the little girl in the denim jumper who was staring at her with
wary blue eyes. Had she ever seen such fear and distrust in a
child’s face?

The weight on her chest
expanded. What on earth was she going to do with this child, this
tiny human who had no one else to depend on but…her?

Ruthie clung to the social
worker’s pant leg, staring up at Jules. Jules felt incredibly
awkward when she went to one knee in front of Ruthie. “Hi. Do you
remember me?”

Ruthie nodded very
somberly. “Dr. Jules. I seen you before.”

“
Yes, a few times. Do you
know why you’re here today?” How much had social services, the
other foster parents, told her?

She nodded again. “I’m
going to be staying with you now. You’re my new momma
now.”

“
Yes. I am. Would you like
that?” Jules’ stomach tightened when the little girl said nothing
for the longest moment.

Ruthie stepped away from
the social worker and held out her hand. Jules took it, marveling
again at how small Ruthie was. How tiny to have faced such trauma
in so short a time.

She stood, and before she
thought it through or took the time to question, she lifted the
little girl into her arms like she had Matthew so many times
before. Ruthie didn’t even weigh half what the now six-year-old boy
did. So small, so needy. She tightened her arms around Ruthie, and
ran a hand down pale blonde hair.

Ruthie was still in her
arms, but she didn’t pull away, and after a moment, Jules felt
little fingers dig into the material covering her arms. Ruthie
clung to her, and Jules closed her eyes for a long moment,
forgetting the two people watching them, forgetting the ramshackle
country airport, forgetting the fact that she, Malachi, and Ruthie
had another four hour-plus flight in just a few hours. All she knew
was the feel of the child in her arms.

The child she was about to
assume complete and total responsibility for.

***

Mal felt a punch of emotion
he’d never have expected, watching as Julia held the little girl
for the first time in his presence. Why did his heart hurt for the
both of them?

The moment was so awkward
he almost forced himself to turn away like the social worker had.
The woman had a composed expression on her face, and Mal speculated
she’d witnessed many such events in her job. Still, didn’t it get
to the woman at all?