Lawman's Redemption (7 page)

“What about your stepfather?”

“Which one?”

“The current one.” His voice sounded testy, and he made a conscious effort to control it. “Is he home?”

“Yeah…but you can't send me back there to him. Adam never lets me stay when Sandra's out of town. He married her in spite of my presence in her life.”

“What about your grandparents?”

“You mean Jim and Rita? Your parents? You'd send me to stay with
those
grandparents?”

Brady's jaw tightened until his teeth hurt. He wouldn't let Jim and Rita Marshall have temporary custody of an angry copperhead. A copperhead's venom had nothing on theirs.

“Then your mother's parents.”

“He died years ago, and we don't see Sandra's mother. She's poor, you know.”

Sandra had been, too, dirt poor, until she'd seduced her way into some money. And he'd made it so easy for her. She'd smiled at him, touched him, and he'd been a goner. Even when she'd told him the truth—about the baby, her affairs, her only reason for marrying him—he hadn't wanted to believe her. He'd told himself she was lying, just trying to hurt him.

She'd succeeded, with her truths as well as her lies.

And if it turned out that her insistence that he wasn't her baby's father had been just one more of her lies, if she'd deliberately kept him away from his daughter for fourteen years, he swore he would make her so damn sorry she would never get over it.

“Listen—”

Les interrupted. “Sandra said you always made excuses for not ever wanting me to visit, but this time it ain't gonna work. She's gone, I'm here, and for a couple weeks, at least, there's nothing you can do about it.” Her grin was mocking. “You can't even turn me over to the cops because you
are
the cops.”

“I don't even have an extra bedroom.”

“Well, I'm not sleeping on the floor. Better make some arrangements.”

Was he actually considering taking her into his home? he wondered, more than a little panicked, then answered himself immediately. What choice did he have? He was the only person in the entire state of Oklahoma with any sort of ties to her. It would only be until he could get hold of her mother or her stepfather and make arrangements to return her to Texas. Besides, if she was his daughter….

That muscle in his jaw clenched again. “How can I get in touch with Sandra?”

“You can't. I told you, she's on her annual keep-me-beautiful spa retreat.”

“Spas have telephones.”

She smiled her mother's smug smile. “Not this one. No telephones, no televisions, no e-mail or faxes. Just days of pampering.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Look, it's hot, I'm hungry, and I'd like to get cleaned up. Traveling by bus sucks big time. Let's get outta here.”

He removed his hat and dragged his fingers through his hair, then glanced at the courthouse. Four faces hastily ducked out of sight at the sheriff's department windows. He couldn't even get angry with them for being curious. “I'm meeting someone for lunch. After we eat, I'll…uh…”

He didn't want to leave her alone for the afternoon in his
house. He didn't have much that was really private there, and the most important of those items was locked up in the gun cabinet in his bedroom. Still, he didn't know this kid. He didn't have a clue how much of a problem child she really was. He could come home and find the place cleaned out, trashed or burned to the ground.

The answer to this problem—possibly—came out of A Moment in Thyme across the street, stopped at the Mercedes, then crossed into the park. She smiled when she saw him, then the smile slowly faded as she noticed Les.

“Hi, Brady,” she greeted him when she reached them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all. Hallie Madison, this is Les…Marshall.”

Les gave Hallie a bored look, then grunted a greeting. Hallie looked at her, then back at him. “And Les is your…?”

He figured she was hoping he would say sister, niece or cousin. He wished he could, but truth was, he couldn't say anything.

After a moment of awkward silence, Les sarcastically said, “He has trouble saying the word—which isn't surprising since he hasn't been around for
fourteen years
to practice. I'm his daughter, and I've come for a visit.”

That surprised Hallie. Her hazel eyes widened, and her delicately arched brows arched even higher. Brady had no doubt she was remembering that just twenty-four hours ago, he'd told her he didn't have any kids. And now here one stood, in the all-too-bizarre flesh.

But almost immediately Hallie smiled, a bright practiced smile that could have fooled any one of her sisters but not him, and she offered her hand. “It's nice to meet you, Les.”

Grudgingly, the kid shook her hand, then pulled back right away.

“This is quite a surprise,” Hallie went on. “If you need to cancel lunch, Brady, I understand—”

“No. Les is hungry, too. There's a place a block away called the SteakOut. We can go there.”

“A cop eating at a place called the SteakOut?” Les rolled her eyes dramatically. “How…small-town.”

Brady scowled at her, then pointed north. “It's that way, if you don't mind walking.”

As they started toward the intersection, he glanced at the department windows again, and saw even more faces pressed up against them. First they found out he apparently had a daughter no one knew about from a marriage no one knew about, and now he was meeting the sheriff's new sister-in-law for lunch. He was going to be the subject of gossip so intense it would probably get back to Reese and Neely all the way down in the Caribbean.

He really did have the damnedest luck.

T
he SteakOut was the perfect ranch-country steakhouse, Hallie thought as they followed the hostess to a table. The walls were paneled with what looked like old barn siding, and the chandeliers were made from wagon wheels. Various brands hung on the walls, along with other cowboy stuff—lassos, horseshoes and blankets, a few rodeo champion belt buckles. The food smelled wonderful, making her realize how hungry she was, but apparently it wasn't enough to distract the other diners from them.

“Damn, all these hicks look like they've never seen a kid before,” Les muttered.

“More likely, they've never seen a kid with him—” Hallie nodded toward Brady, who looked as if he'd rather be staked to an anthill under the desert sun “—who wasn't in handcuffs.”

And they probably hadn't seen him in here with a woman before, either. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if this was the first time he'd been in the place.

“Yeah, well, if they don't quit staring, I'm gonna—”

“What?” Hallie asked. “Give 'em something to stare at?”

Les looked at her belligerently for a time before letting a smile slowly form. “This isn't the worst I can get, you know.”

“I know. I was your age once, too.”

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”

Hallie returned the smile. “Not so long that I couldn't wrestle you to the ground and tickle you till you pee your pants.”

On her left, sitting at the head of the table, Brady cleared his throat but didn't say anything. Hallie exchanged looks with Les, then said, “I believe your father wants us to be quiet.”

“You be quiet. I gotta go to the bathroom.” Les pushed her chair back, then headed back toward the entrance.

As soon as she was gone, Hallie's smile faded. Now that the surprise was wearing off, she knew it was silly, but she felt betrayed. She'd thought she and Brady were building some sort of friendship—thought they had some kind of connection that they lacked with most other people. He'd shared his secrets with her, for heaven's sake.

They probably hadn't been secrets at all. Probably everyone in town knew everything about him, and he'd just lied to her.

Lied.

The man who'd told her he was as honest as the day was long, and she'd believed him.

“Listen, Hallie…”

Jaw clamped shut, she glanced at him. She wouldn't make it easy for him by asking questions or responding in any way. Let him get the explanation out all on his own.

“This is as big a surprise to me as anyone else.”

Her resolution to stay quiet did a quick
poof!
into thin air.

“You just happened to forget that your marriage to your ex-wife produced a daughter?”

His mouth thinned. “No, of course not. But…she's not
my
daughter. At least, that's what I always believed.”

“And why would you believe that? Because it was easier than being a part of her life? Because then you could go off to New Mexico and Colorado and Oklahoma and do what you wanted and never have to deal with her?”

His eyes turned cold and hard, as if they'd been chipped from a chunk of frozen sky. “I believed it because her mother swore it was true. I told you Sandra had a lot of affairs. She was
convinced that one of her boyfriends was Les's father, not me. That's when I ended the marriage.”

“But Les uses your name. She believes you're her father.”

“I know. Apparently, Sandra lied to one of us.” A scowl settled over his features. “I don't think Les knows why I haven't been around for fourteen years, and if she doesn't, I'd rather not tell her.”

Of course not. What would it do to the mother-daughter relationship if he said, Hey, kid, you haven't had a father in your life because your mother drove him away? Though judging from the way Les looked, Hallie wasn't sure there was much of a mother-daughter relationship to damage.

“I didn't lie to you, Hallie. When you asked me if I had any kids, I honestly thought the answer was no.” He reached back to rub his neck as if it ached. “Even now I don't know…”

“But you're going to let her stay.”

“For a while. What else can I do?”

He could put her on a southbound bus, or drag her onto an airplane, or simply call her mother and demand that she come and get her. He could even turn her over to social services. After all, a man had no obligations to his ex-wife's child.

But if she was his child, too…

“I, uh…I can't get off early today,” he went on, his gaze fixed somewhere around her hands, resting on the tabletop. “Reese is gone, and one of the deputies called in sick today, so we're shorthanded. I was wondering…if maybe you could…” He drew a deep breath, then met her gaze. “You're going to make me say it, aren't you?”

She smiled a bit. “There's no shame in asking favors. Everyone needs help from time to time.”

“Not me.”

“Ha. You need help right now, and the reason is on her way back here.” She didn't need to look to know that Les was returning from the bathroom. The central focus of virtually every diner's attention was enough to tell her.

In a rush, Brady blurted out, “Will you keep an eye on her this afternoon?”

“See? That wasn't so bad.” She watched as Les circled the next table, then pulled out her chair. “I'd be happy to.”

“Redneck goobers,” Les said as she sat down. “They should keep their looks to theirselves.”

“Aw, come on, Les,” Hallie gently chided. “If you didn't want people to look at you, you wouldn't dress in a manner guaranteed to make them look.”

The kid gave her a scornful look, then scanned the menu. “Jeez, did I forget to mention that I'm a vegetarian? And you bring me to a freakin' steakhouse? Don't you know what red meat does to your body? To say nothing of the fact that consuming animal flesh goes against the laws of nature.”

“Animals eat animals in the wild,” Brady muttered.

“Some of them even eat their young,” Hallie said with a teasing smile. “What kind of vegetarian are you? Vegan? Ovo, lacto or lacto-ovo?”

Les's expression turned suspicious. “What do you know about vegetarians?”

“Honey, I live in California, where I used to give parties for hundreds of people with menus that allowed for every dietary restriction you could possibly think of.”

“I'm lacto-ovo. I eat ice cream. And cheese. And ranch dressing.”

“So you could have a salad, a baked potato, some veggies and dessert.”

“Yeah, I could.” Les looked from her to Brady. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Hallie looked at him, too, curious about the answer he would give.

His cheeks flushed just a little under his dark skin, and he answered with a frown, “We're…friends.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

His flush turned to a deep crimson blush, and he opened his mouth twice without getting any words out.

“If he is,” Hallie said, “it's none of your business. In fact, if he isn't, it's none of your business.”

“I bet he isn't. Sandra says he's dreadfully lacking in social
skills. She says he never had a clue how to make a woman happy.”

And Sandra was a deceitful, scheming, lying witch, Hallie thought snidely.

The waitress took their orders while dividing her surreptitious looks between the three of them, then returned almost immediately with drinks and salads. When the silence had dragged on interminably, Hallie nudged Brady under the table, then nodded slightly toward Les.

He raised his brows, then gave a little shrug. “So…what grade are you in, Les?”

“Tenth.”

“Do you like school?”

“Jeez, what kind of moron would I be if I said yes to that?”

This time Hallie nudged
her
under the table. Les scowled in response, then grudgingly said, “No, I don't
like
it, but I'm good at it.”

After another awkward moment, Brady asked, “Do you still live in the same town?”

“The only moving we do is from one man's house to another. You think Sandra would consider moving away from Marshall City when she's got the only Marshall grandchild in existence?” To Hallie, Les added, “The whole damn town's named after his family. His parents practically, like,
own
the place. Can you believe it?”

Interesting. And yet he hated the entire state of Texas, where this town was located, and seemed more alone than anyone she'd ever met. Apparently, Sandra wasn't the only one who'd broken his heart.

“Do you ever see them?” he asked stiffly, his gaze gone cold and hard again.

“Sometimes,” Les replied with a careless shrug. “But not without Sandra.”

“Good.” Brady breathed the word so softly that Hallie barely caught it, but she couldn't miss the muscle twitching in his jaw or the way his fingers gripped his fork as if he might grind the stainless steel to dust.

Very interesting.

The rest of the meal passed in similar fashion. When they left the restaurant, Hallie gave a soft sigh of relief. She liked Les, and obviously she liked Brady, but the tension radiating from him after that mention of his parents had been unnerving, as had being the center of attention for everyone else in the restaurant.

They walked back to the courthouse in silence, then stopped out front. “I have to go back to work,” Brady said, avoiding looking at either of them as he spoke. “Hallie's offered to keep an eye on you until I get off.”

“I don't need a baby-sitter,” Les protested.

“Aw, come on,” Hallie said. “A few people have been known to actually find me pleasant company.”

A half frown, half pout settled on the girl's features, pulling the bar through her eyebrow askew. “Sandra
said
you'd dump me on someone else the first chance you got.”

Hallie slid her arm through Les's. “Let me guess. Sandra doesn't work, and she devotes every waking moment to taking care of you.”

“Well, you're right about the not working part.”

Hallie started walking toward her car and gave the kid no choice but to come along. “Brady, I've got Neely's cell phone,” she called over her shoulder. “Give us a call when you get off.”

“Hallie.”

She glanced back, then disentangled herself from Les. “My car's the blue Mercedes. Want to wait over there? I'll just be a minute.” She strolled back to Brady, who hadn't moved a step.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. What are…friends for?”

Again his cheeks turned pink. “I really appreciate this.”

“I know.” She smiled ruefully. “You haven't even begun to scratch the surface of your deep, dark secrets, have you?”

The look that came into his eyes was bleak and made her regret the question. “No. I don't guess I have.” After a moment, he shook his head as if to clear it. “I'll call you.”

“I'll be around.” Impulsively she squeezed his hand, then walked away. When she reached her car, Les was leaning against it.

“Nice car,” she said. “Adam has one just like it.”

“Who's Adam?”

“Sandra's current husband.” Then her features shifted fluidly into a scowl. “She was right. He doesn't want me around. But that's okay. I don't give a damn.”

“That's not fair.” Hallie unlocked the car doors, then slid behind the wheel. “You dropped in out of the blue. Any man would need an adjustment period, but especially one as private as your father.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Not long.” But she'd wager she knew him better than anyone else in town, if not anyone else, period.

“You know he's got money?”

Hallie backed out of the parking space and into the street, then turned onto Main. “Truthfully, I hadn't given it much thought.” If she had, she probably would have guessed he had some income other than his undersheriff's salary. He'd commented on how little deputies were paid, and yet he drove a late-model pickup truck that probably cost more than most houses in town.

“If you're not after his money, then what?”

Hallie took advantage of a red light to study the girl, then gave a shake of her head as she drove on. Her mother had had way too much influence on this child. She hoped Brady let her stay around long enough to counteract some of it.

Following Stella's directions, she drove to the Tucker house, pulled into the driveway five minutes before her appointment with Marlene Tucker and shut off the engine.

“Is this where you live?” Les asked as they got out.

“Not at the moment. But I might rent the place.”

“It's kind of shabby.”

“Of course you would think so, being part of the family your whole town is named after.”

“Don't make fun of me.”

“Don't be such a snob.” Hallie climbed the steps to the porch and took a seat on the swing. When she patted the space beside her, Les grudgingly followed her up, but sat in a nearby rocker instead.

“You ever take those things off?” Hallie asked, gesturing toward the headphones around the girl's neck.

“When I take a shower and when I sleep,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. “Other than that, no. This way I'm always ready when adults decide to talk to me.” She slid her hand in the outside pocket of her backpack, and a moment later music blared from the headphones. With a smug smile, she turned it off again. “So…what're you after with Brady?”

“I'm not ‘after' anything,” Hallie said. “We're friends. I like him. I think he's a good, honorable, decent man—” she grinned wickedly “—who just happens to be drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Huh. If you say so.”

“What does your mother tell you about your father?”

“She only talks about him when she's between husbands or mad at me. Sometimes she says she never should have married him, and sometimes she says she never should have let him get away. He was her first husband, and she was real poor until she married him. She
hated
being poor.”