The Texas Ranger's Reward (Undercover Heroes) (3 page)

“Really?”

“Yes. At this point I believe he’d do anything for you. He
proved that today.”

Mr. Stillman had just given her a plausible answer for Casey’s
quick turnaround, but his own reaction was far more complicated. Melissa jumped
up from her chair, suddenly putting two and two together. Whether he’d had a
good, mediocre or bad marriage, seeing someone who reminded him so strongly of
his wife must have come as a shock to him.

She’d known something was wrong. For some reason it made her
feel strange. She didn’t want to look like anyone else, especially his murdered
wife. Apparently he didn’t like it, either.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” she said. “Considering his
progress, tomorrow should be the last time he needs to come in.” Working with
children had made her careful not to allow attachments to form. “I’ll send you
home with a sheet showing a few exercises he can do. If you make a game of it
and do them with him, he won’t know you’re trying to help strengthen those
muscles. Keep in mind he doesn’t have to do the exercises. Natural play will
eventually work out any kinks, but it’s something you can do together as father
and son to speed things up. Do you have any questions for me?”

“None.”

He seemed anxious to get off the phone. “Then I’ll see you in
the morning. We’ll deal with the issue of his not wanting to go to school
then.”

Melissa hung up. She had no desire to prolong their
conversation either. It would have been agony for Travis Stillman to have to
discuss the tragedy with her. Heaven knows it was hard enough to hear about it.
Any trauma that directly affected a child pained her. But murder… The poor boy.
The poor father. He’d been forced to give up his life’s work and move to a new
state. None of that could have been easy.

She was glad she had a busy schedule that afternoon. It would
get her mind off what she’d learned.

At four o’clock she left the clinic for her parents’ home in
Federal Heights, an area in the northeast region of the city near the University
of Utah. Five generations of Robertses, all of whom had run the Wasatch Front
Steel Corporation, had lived there. Melissa had grown up surrounded by tall,
gorgeous old trees and a lush yard. Her town house, where the trees had been
newly planted and there was no heavy foliage, was a big change.

While she ate dinner with her parents, she told them about the
cabin. Her father rubbed his chin. “That’s the trouble with such remote places,
honey. After every winter, our neighbors up there complain of the same thing.
Somebody’s broken in and things are stolen.”

She shook her head “Winter is one thing, Dad, but for intruders
to be that brazen in summer is really upsetting. I didn’t see anything missing,
but I know someone has been in there since July 24.”

“Let’s just be thankful you didn’t surprise them when you
walked in,” her mother said. “I’ve never liked you going up there alone. This
settles it. Please don’t use the cabin again unless you have a friend or family
member with you.”

“Mom—”

“I don’t care if you’re a grown woman, Melissa. It’s not
safe.”

“Your mother’s right, honey. What about Tom?”

“He’s a man I’ve done some artwork for, but that’s all. I’ve
never been interested in him. When the book’s done, I won’t be doing any more
projects with him. Real-life paintings aren’t the kind of thing I like to
do.”

Her dad glanced at her with affection. “I know. You love your
world of fantasy.”

“I always have.” She put down her fork. “Fall is when I like to
be up at the cabin every weekend. The atmosphere inspires me. My week’s vacation
starts next Tuesday. I planned to live up there the whole time, so I can hike
and paint nonstop.”

“If you’re determined to go alone,” her father said, “then you
need to buy a gun and learn how to shoot it.”

Her mother gasped. “William!”

“Well, it’s either that or take a boyfriend along.” Her parents
despaired of her ever settling down again, and brought up the subject at every
opportunity.

“I don’t have one. What if we hired a retired policeman to be
at the cabin when I go up? I’d help pay him.”

Her father eyed her in frustration. “I guess anything’s
possible, but tell you what, honey. Some time tomorrow I’ll call the police in
the Kamas area and ask them to send someone over to the cabin and take a
look.”

“I don’t see any signs of a break-in, so I don’t think that
will do any good.”

“You have a point. Let me think about it. I don’t like this any
more than you do.”

Her mother leaned forward. “I’ll go up with you for a couple of
nights, and I’m sure John and Linda will, too. In the meantime, why don’t you
ask Rosie from your work?”

“She’s involved with a guy, Mom.”

Besides, the problem with taking girl friends up there was that
they needed to be entertained. At night they wanted to drive down to Kamas for a
little fun, and to meet the local male talent. Melissa had done that years ago.
It was how she’d met her husband. She had no desire for lightning to strike her
twice in the same place.

Chapter Two

Travis was awake Wednesday morning long before it was
time to take Casey to the clinic. His boss, Roman Lufka, owner of the Lufka
Private Investigator firm, had intended to assign him a new case on Monday, but
because Travis’s son refused to go to school, the timing was wrong.

Roman was the greatest, and told him to take as long as he
needed to work with Casey, but Travis was getting anxious. It was one thing for
his son to convince the therapist that he could manage without his crutches in
order to receive a prize, and quite another to agree to go back to school
without them.

Travis heard his cell phone ringing when he came out of the
shower. Hitching a towel around his hips, he hurried into the bedroom and
reached for it. Maybe the therapist was calling because a scheduling problem had
come up.

Last night, without knowing what he knew, his housekeeper,
Deana White, had whispered to him that Casey seemed to have developed a crush on
the therapist and couldn’t wait until morning. Travis didn’t want to think about
the damage a cancelation could do at such a pivotal point in Casey’s
recovery.

Relief swept through him when he looked at the caller ID before
picking up. “Hey, Chaz, it’s good to hear your voice.” Chaz Roylance was another
great friend he’d made at the firm.

“Do you and Casey want to meet up for breakfast? I’ll bring
Abby.” All the guys were trying to help Travis get through this rough period
with his son.

“There’s nothing I’d like better, but we’re due at his
therapist’s in twenty minutes.”

“How’s it going?”

Travis sucked in his breath. “She challenged him to come
without his crutches. Wants him to leave them at home. If he takes her up on it,
I think we’re halfway there.”

“Only halfway?”

“The other half is getting him to go back to school.”

“I hear you. As you know, our Abby is still having meltdowns
over bees.”

“The poor little tyke.”

“When she sees one, it’s the end of the world. Frankly, I’m
glad cooler weather is on the way. Unless I can promise that bees won’t be
around, she refuses to do certain things, even for her mother.”

For her mother.

In that arena, Travis had the edge on Chaz, because the
therapist seemed to have the power to get his son to do anything. Travis ought
to be grateful to her. Hell, he
was
grateful, but
nothing seemed to alleviate his tortured thoughts since he’d met her.

“Thanks for the invite,” he said to Chaz. “I’ll call you
tomorrow.” He hung up and went back to the bathroom to shave. After putting on a
crew-neck and dark trousers, he walked through the house to find his son in the
kitchen eating breakfast. He’d dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Travis didn’t
know if Deana had helped him or not.

And so far Casey hadn’t gotten bored with Captain America.

“Good morning.” The housekeeper, who’d raised three children of
her own, put a plate of sausages and pancakes in front of him.

“Thanks, Deana.”

Travis didn’t have much appetite, but he ate what she’d served
him, to be polite. His sister, Pat, had helped him find Deana. She’d been coming
once a week to clean, and the rest of the time she picked up Casey from school
and got dinner ready. Since he’d broken his leg, however, Deana had been putting
in long hours, and Casey liked her.

Lately he hadn’t been interested in food, and today he’d left
half his breakfast on his plate, Travis noted in concern. “Hey, bud, it’s time
to go to the clinic. Put the toy down, okay?”

“Okay. What do you think she’s going to give me this
morning?”

He studied his son. “Are you going to leave your crutches
here?”

Casey had laid them on the floor by his chair. “Yup.”

“Then let’s get going and find out. Do you need me to hold your
hand?”

“I don’t think so.”

Deana sent Travis a private smile. What she didn’t know was
that although this was progress, the difficult part—school—was still to come.
But he’d wait until they were in the therapist’s office to bring the subject
up.

Dexter followed them to the garage, and Casey gave him a hug.
If people didn’t look too closely, they might never know Casey had gone through
his ordeal, Travis decided. Though his son took a little more time, he walked
with a steady gait. Like any child, he loved getting neat things, but Travis
feared that another gift wasn’t all that was motivating him.

“There she is!” Casey spotted Melissa as they drove into the
clinic parking lot five minutes later. There weren’t many cars this early. When
Casey climbed out she started waving. This time Travis didn’t see any hesitancy
on his son’s part as he closed the distance between them.

Travis brought up the rear, surreptitiously studying Melissa
Dalton. This morning she was turned out in a pair of latte-colored trousers with
a dark brown waistband. With the fitted melon-colored blouse, it was hard to
look anywhere else.

Her eyes appraised Casey. “Well, look at you. Good as new!” The
boy beamed up at her. “I like a guy who makes a promise and keeps it. Where are
those old crutches?”

“At home. I turned them into weapons.” Travis blinked when
Casey unexpectedly pulled a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to her.
“See?”

“Hmm. What have we got here?” He giggled while she opened the
paper with great ceremony. “Whoa, I certainly
do
see. How clever of you to make them into laser guns! Is that an
interplanetary rocket they fit on?”

“Yeah.”

She pressed it to her heart. “Can I have this and put it up on
the corkboard for the other children to see?”

He nodded.

“When we get inside, you have to autograph it.”

“Auto—?”

“
Autograph’s
a fancy word for your
name.”

“Okay. I can print it.”

“I didn’t doubt it for a second. Come with me.”

Once the three of them reached her office, Melissa walked
around the desk and opened the top drawer. “Here’s a good pen, Casey. Take the
drawing over to the table by the books. After you print your name, you can put
up your picture using those tacks on the board.”

“Where shall I print it?”

“Anyplace you like. Make sure it’s big so everyone can see
it.”

Casey got down on his knees to get to work. That’s when Travis
knew his son was no longer thinking about his leg. He chuckled as Casey’s tongue
rubbed against his lower lip while he carried out her suggestion.

“Here,” she said when he was done, “I’ll make a little more
room for it.” While she helped Casey mount the drawing, Travis returned the
felt-tipped pen to her desk, then wandered over to see the finished product. But
he found himself looking at the skein of lustrous hair caught at the nape of her
neck with a coral flower clip. This morning she wore gold studs in her earlobes.
Her fashion sense held strong appeal for him. Almost as much as her gorgeous
body did.

“I love it!” she declared, drawing Travis’s attention back to
the drawing. His son had put his name coming out of the tip of the rocket, with
each letter getting a little bigger. “I especially like the way you make your
y
with the curlicue on the tail.”

Casey smiled again. Every time she opened her mouth, she built
his son’s confidence, Travis realized.

“This calls for a celebration.” She walked back to her desk and
reached in the drawer for a small envelope. Handing it to Casey, she said,
“Inside this are three passes for your dad to take you and a close friend to a
fun movie. And I have one more thing for you. It’s in the clinic kitchen. I’ll
be right back.”

Travis felt the gift giving had gone on long enough, and would
have told her so, but she left the office too fast. He sat down with Casey.
“That was certainly nice of her. Be sure to thank her for those passes when she
comes back in.”

“I will,” he answered, sounding preoccupied. Travis didn’t know
how Casey felt about his latest present, but was glad he didn’t say he’d have
preferred a toy. “Hey, Dad, look at the picture of the huge bulldog! I wish I
could take that one home.”

Travis automatically complied, glancing toward the fabulous
collection as he shook his head.

“Sorry, bud. That one stays on the wall.” If he had a dollar
for every time his son wished for something…

Pretty soon Melissa came back with a bakery carton of iced
cupcakes decorated in autumn colors, and put it on the table with some
napkins.

“I noticed on your medical chart that you had a birthday a
couple of weeks ago,” she said, “but since you weren’t in school, you didn’t
have a chance to celebrate. Every kid celebrates birthdays at school. Today
would be the perfect day to take these to class. The other kids will love a
treat. There’s enough in the box for the three of us to have one before your dad
drives you to school. Your teacher’s waiting for you.”

Casey looked as dumbfounded as Travis felt. “She is?”

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone go to school on Wednesdays?” Casey
nodded. “She’s looking for one Mr. Casey Stillman to show up. Did you meet her
at a parent-teacher conference before school started?”

“No. I couldn’t walk.”

“Well, you can now! Here—try one.” She opened the lid. “You
pick the color you want.”

At first Casey couldn’t decide. Travis reached for a yellow one
and ate it in two bites, his eyes meeting Melissa’s in amusement before she bit
into hers. Finally Casey made his choice and devoured it quickly. She handed him
a napkin, so he could wipe the frosting off his face. “If you’re thirsty,
there’s a drinking fountain across the hall,” she said.

“Okay.” He slid off the chair and left her office.

Travis got to his feet, hardly knowing where to start thanking
her for all she’d done. But before he could get a word out she said, “Quick—find
your son and go. I’ll follow you to the front doors.” She picked up the cupcake
carton and they left her office, gathering Casey along the way.

“I wish you could have stayed longer,” she explained to him,
“but I’ve got another patient waiting for me. Have fun at school.” She handed
the cupcakes to Travis. “Bye, Casey.”

“Bye.”

Her brilliant strategy had left his son confused. She’d been
right; now was the time to act. Travis walked beside him to the car and they
took off for his school, not giving him the luxury of thinking about what had
just happened.

“Dad? I want Melissa to go to the movie with us.”

Oh, no. He should’ve known!
“She
meant you should take one of your friends, Casey. I was thinking Blaine.” He was
a boy Casey often played with, who lived down the street from them.

“I don’t want to go with him. She’s more fun!”

She was definitely that. And maybe too
clever? Travis wanted to believe the therapist had no ulterior motive
when she’d handed him those passes, but he couldn’t be sure. If she was
interested in him, then this wasn’t the first time a woman had tried to get his
attention through his child.

Since moving to Utah, he’d met attractive women who’d come on
to him, but he’d felt no answering spark and couldn’t pretend otherwise. After
one date, he couldn’t bring himself to repeat the experience.

“We don’t have to worry about it now. The passes are good for
six months.”

“But I want to see
Spider-Man
with
her this week before the movie’s gone!”

“We’ll have to talk about it later.” Relieved that the school
was in sight, he pulled into the parking lot.

Because Travis had talked with Casey’s teacher several times
already, she handled the interruption to her morning class like the pro she was.
The kids were delighted to get treats, and enough fuss was made of Casey that
Travis could slip out before his son could decide he didn’t want to stay.

Travis would never have thought of using his son’s birthday as
a way to get him back to class. But Melissa’s tactic was the kind of thing
Valerie might have done, and it had worked. He drove straight to the P.I. firm
on Wasatch Boulevard, feeling as if he’d just survived a blizzard before
reaching the top of Everest.

En route, he rang Deana and told her Casey was back in class,
hopefully for the whole day. Travis planned to pick him up, but he would
appreciate her staying until they got home, in case something went wrong before
the school day was over.

Because of the therapist’s clever handling of his son, life
looked as if it might be getting back to normal. He was indebted to Melissa and
her unorthodox methods. At the same time, he felt conflicted. He knew it wasn’t
her fault she reminded him of Valerie. And therein lay the problem. She
wasn’t
his deceased wife. That woman was gone. More
than ever he didn’t want to be around her stand-in.

With a groan of frustration, he pressed on the accelerator,
anxious to get to his office. What he needed was to dig into a new case,
something that kept him physically active so he wouldn’t have time to think.
Roman had told him that a half-dozen cases he’d probably like were waiting for
him. He could choose the one that appealed to him most.

As for Casey, he would have to go to the movie with his father
and his eleven-year-old cousin, Jack. Or maybe just the two of them would go.
He’d given in to his son’s wishes long enough.

* * *

O
N
T
HURSDAY
Melissa rushed
inside Rinaldo’s at the lunch hour. The place was crowded, but Tom had grabbed a
booth and was waiting for her. She walked over and sat down opposite him.

“Sorry I’m late, but my last appointment lasted longer than I’d
planned.”

“Don’t worry about it. I took the liberty of ordering our
lunch, since I know you have to get back to work soon.”

“I do. Thanks for going ahead. You’ll be glad to know I’ve
finished my part of our project.” Melissa handed Tom the portfolio containing
the artwork she’d done in watercolor for his book.