Diana Palmer - Lawman

She drew in a long breath. “I guess not.” She turned to Garon. “I have to stop by the lady’s room for a minute, then I’ll be ready to leave.”

“I’ll wait,” he assured her.

She walked down the hall. When she was out of earshot, Coltrain turned his attention to Garon.

“Mrs. Collier won’t last more than a few hours,” he said bluntly. “I think Grace knows, but she’s going to take it hard.”

Garon nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s not alone over there. When her grandmother is gone, she can stay at the ranch with us for a week or two, until she gets her bearings. Miss Turner will treat her like a long lost daughter.”

“Isn’t that something of a turnabout for you?” Coltrain asked warily. “Just recently, you didn’t even want to be bothered with Grace’s transportation.”

Garon avoided his eyes. “She’s got a good heart.”

Coltrain hesitated. “She’s a good person,” he amended. He frowned. “Aren’t you working late?”

He nodded. “We have a murdered child north of here,” he replied. “Homicide is my specialty, so I was assigned to the case.” His expression tautened. “I’ve been in law enforcement most of my life. Usually, not much shocks me. This case…” He shook his head. “The perp took the child right out her bedroom window. We found evidence of a violent encounter in the room.” His eyes flashed angrily. “This man is an animal. He has to be caught.”

“Have you found any clues?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m like a snapping turtle. I won’t stop until I’ve found him.”

Coltrain smiled. “You’re like your brother in that I gather.”

“Back when he was a Texas Ranger,” he confided, “Cash chased a robbery suspect all the way to Alabama.”

Coltrain chuckled. “That, I’d believe.”

He shook his head. “If anyone had told me that he’d settle down in a small town and have kids, I’d have laughed my head off. Since his daughter was born, earlier this month, he’s become a committed family man.”

Before Coltrain could reply, Grace came back down the hall, looking morose and lonely.

Garon felt her pain keenly. He was no stranger to loss.

“Come on,” he said gently. “I’ll follow you home.”

Grace hesitated. She looked up at Coltrain.

“You’ll call me…?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you, Grace.”

Above her head, Garon’s eyes met Coltrain’ sand a silent message passed between them. Coltrain would call Garon as well. He told him, without saying a single word.

GRACE PULLED UP at her front steps with Garon right behind her. She got out of the car hesitantly. It had been a very long time since she’d been alone with a man at night. She didn’t trust men.

She hesitated at her steps, turning on the gravel path to watch Garon get out of his car and join her. She was stiff as a poker, something he must have recognized.

His dark eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to send Miss Turner over to spend the night with you?” he asked.

“No. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” she added jerkily.

He scowled. She’d been relaxed at the hospital, with Coltrain nearby. But on her own like this, with him, she seemed to grow thorns and barbed wire. It didn’t take rocket science to know that she was uncomfortable. He wondered if she was that way with other men.

“You’ve got our number,” he reminded her. “If you need us, just call.”

“Thank you. It’s very kind,” she said.

He drew in a long breath. “I have a hard time with relationships of any sort,” he said out of the blue. “My line of work puts off any number of people, especially when they realize that I carry a gun all the time, even off duty. I make them uncomfortable.”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m not used to people, either,” she confessed. “Granny and I keep to ourselves. I have little jobs that I go to,” she added, “and I have just a handful of casual friends. But nobody close.”

He cocked his head. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “But I don’t talk about it.”

She made him curious. He noticed that she was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, with a jacket. None of her clothing was new, and her loafers had torn places and scuff marks. She must budget like crazy, he thought.

“You like roses?” he asked, noticing the pruned bushes near the front porch.

“I love them,” she replied, smiling. “I’m especially fond of my Audrey Hepburn and my Chrysler Imperial.”

“A pink and a red,” he mused.

“Why, yes!” she burst out, surprised.

“I haven’t had much opportunity to plant bushes in recent years,” he said. “I might get back to it, now that I’ve got the ranch. It used to be a hobby.”

“I’ve babied these rosebushes since I was a little girl,” she recalled warmly. “My grandfather—he’s dead now—loved to grow them. He knew all the varieties, and he taught me. We were best friends. He died when I was nine.”

“I never knew any of my grandparents,” Garon replied. “They all died before we were born.”

“We?” she asked. “You and Cash?”

“There are four brothers,” he replied. “Cort and Parker are the other two. Cort runs our West Texas ranch with our father. Parker’s in law enforcement.”

“Was your dad a lawman?” she wondered.

“No. But our grandfather was a U.S. Marshal,” he said proudly. “I’ve still got his gunbelt and his old Colt .45.”

“My granddad was a horse wrangler,” she said. “But he got kicked by a bull and crippled. He retired and moved here with Granny when my mother was a little girl.”

“Your roots go back a ways here,” he said.

“Yes. It’s nice to have some.”

He checked his watch. “I’d better get home. I’ve got some paperwork to do before I can go to bed. Call if you need us.”

“I will. Thanks,” she added.

He shrugged. “It was a good cake.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Lock your doors,” he called as he got into his car.

“I will. Good night.”

He waved and drove off, but she saw him hesitate at the end of her driveway until he saw lights go on in her house. It was rather comforting.

SHE LOCKED THE DOORS and checked them twice. She checked the broom handles placed crosswise in all the long, old-fashioned windows to keep anyone from opening them. She checked her bedroom window four times. It was a ritual that she never skipped.

Her neighbor had surprised her by showing up at the hospital. He was a loner, as she was. She hadn’t liked him at first, but he did seem to have a few saving graces.

She put on her long white gown and brushed out her hair so that it swirled around her shoulders like a sheet of gold. She didn’t look into the mirror while she did it. She didn’t like looking at herself.

It was almost dawn when she heard someone knocking like crazy at the front door. She was sleeping in a downstairs room, rather than the old bedroom she’d had on the second floor of the house. It wasn’t far down the hall. She threw on a thick robe and paused to look out the small square windowpanes after she turned on the porch light.

She frowned. It was her neighbor, dressed and solemn. Her heart ran away with her. She could only think of one reason he might be here.

She opened the door with a little sob in her voice. “No,” she said huskily. “Please, no…!”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“She’s…gone?”

He nodded.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She didn’t make a sound. She just looked up at him with her tragic face, crying helplessly.

He moved forward to take her by the shoulders. It was an invasion of her personal space that shocked, frightened her. She jerked nervously, but when his hands loosened and were barely resting on her, she relaxed suddenly and moved into his arms. She couldn’t remember a time in her young life when anyone had held her while she cried.