The Coltons: Fisher, Ryder & Quinn
“I know you want to protect your friends, but if it’s something that could get them hurt—”
“T.J. was telling Sara not to worry. That he would take her to a place where no one could find her.”
“Was there someone Sara was afraid of? Someone who had found her here at the Hopechest?” Fisher asked.
“Maybe,” he began and shrugged. “The other night—the night of the accident—another car started following us. Sara got worried and that’s why T.J. was speeding, to get away from that car.”
She recalled T.J.’s explanation that the other car had been challenging them, but this made a great deal more sense. If Sara’s father had sent someone to try and find her, they might have spotted her in the car with the boys and decided to follow them to see where she might be.
“She was with you the night of the accident,” Macy said, wanting to confirm her suspicions.
Joe exchanged a pained look with Jewel and nodded. “She was with us, but after we got into the accident, that car that had weirded us out was driving by. Before T.J. and I realized it, she had slipped out of T.J.’s car and somehow got back to the ranch without us.”
Macy sensed something even more troublesome approached and at the thought of it, her knees began to shake. If Fisher hadn’t already been gently guiding her toward one of the wing chairs, she would have sagged into one ignominiously.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Joe dropped his head until the only thing she could see was the tousled mass of his dark brown hair. He mumbled something, almost beneath his breath, but at Jewel’s prodding, finally spoke up.
“I saw Sara getting into T.J.’s car the night before she disappeared. I’d heard some noises out by the one barn and went out to check. There wasn’t anything by the barn, but on the way back, I saw a car in the distance and someone running to it.”
“Are you sure, son? It was nighttime and you were quite a distance away,” Fisher said.
Joe nodded and as he raised his blue-eyed gaze to them, it was filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, but it was T.J. and Sara. I saw their faces when T.J. opened the door and the lights came on.”
She sighed and buried her head in her hands. If what Joe said was true—and she had no reason to doubt him—T.J. was headed for major trouble once the deputy found out. Before he did, she had to get to the bottom of what was really going on with her son.
Rising, she stepped up to Joe and her boss, her hands clasped tightly before her. “I know this is a lot to ask—”
“We’re not supposed to speak to Deputy Rawlings until tomorrow and actually, I was hoping to wait until Jericho came back. He’s due any day now, isn’t he?” Jewel asked, her head cocked in Fisher’s direction.
“Dad says he’ll be back either tomorrow or the next day, although the next is more likely,” Fisher replied. He laid his hand on her shoulder once again and said, “That gives us time to talk to T.J. and find out what’s going on.”
She nodded and embraced Jewel. “Thank you for understanding.”
Jewel hugged her hard and brushed a lock of stray hair away from her face. “Call us as soon as you know anything. In the meantime, I’m going to speak to Clay Colton about those noises again. Find out if he can go out on the range to see if it’s an injured animal.”
“I’ll call as soon as we have something.” Turning, she took hold of Fisher’s hand and they left the ranch house, jumped in the Jeep and raced home.
She knew something was wrong from the moment they pulled up into her driveway. There was something just too…quiet about the house. After she exited the Jeep, she immediately walked to the garage doors, stood on tiptoe and peered in through the glass windows.
T.J.’s GTO was gone.
Running to the front door, she threw it open and shouted his name.
When silence answered, she tore up the stairs, the house’s old bones creaking from the force of her strides.
At T.J.’s door, she stared at his empty unmade bed.
He wasn’t anywhere in the room.
Things had just gone from bad to worse.
He was getting slow in his old age, Fisher thought as he bounded up the stairs, chasing Macy after her mad dash from the garage and into the house.
He nearly barreled her over as she stood silently at T.J.’s door, her shoulders nearly heaving as she apparently struggled for control. He realized why as he stood behind her and peered over her shoulder into the room.
Her son…their son was gone.
Disappointment slammed into him as he thought of how T.J. had broken the rules of his punishment. He couldn’t imagine how Macy felt, but he could see it in the lines of her body.
He stepped close and embraced her from behind, wrapping one arm across her waist while stroking her hair with his hand. “It’ll be okay, Mace. We’ll find him.”
She sucked in a ragged breath while her body vibrated with tension. “Why would he do this? Why couldn’t he talk to me?”
He remembered himself at T.J.’s age, all full of perceived male empowerment, but struggling with the confusing emotions about Macy, his mom and his life in Esperanza. Although he had been close to his father and brother, he hadn’t been able to talk to them about all that he was feeling. He’d been too prideful, too perplexed and most of all, too angry.
“This isn’t about anything you’ve done wrong, Mace. He’s young and probably unsure of the situation he’s gotten himself into with Sara. Women can do that to a man.”
Another shuddering breath ripped through her body and transferred her pain to him and because he wanted to ease her anguish, he said, “I promise that this will work out. That we’ll make this okay.”
A big promise.
As she turned in his arms and wrapped hers around him, holding on to him as if for dear life, regret slammed into him that the promise he had just made might be one he would break because he didn’t know how to make it okay. Had it been a mission with his men, he’d know the plan and what to do. Even if the plan got all messed up out in the field, he could find a way to make the mission work.
But this wasn’t a mission and family things…They were far more complicated at times than a military mission and he feared he lacked the skills to be able to keep his promise.
Awkwardly he patted her on the back, held her as she cried out her frustration. He wasn’t used to dealing with a woman’s tears. Or a son’s disobedience.
He couldn’t tell her there was no crying in the military. Well, he could but it would be a lie because he had shed more than one tear over his men and their injuries. He also couldn’t punish T.J. with a week in the brig for disobeying his mother.
In reality, he couldn’t bring the kind of order he had in the Army to this family, but as Macy’s tears finally subsided with a tiny hiccough that wrung his heart, he realized what he could do. He could bring her peace for a moment. Soothe her hurt and maybe make her smile.
As for T.J.…
He needed a man’s guidance to get him in line and he would try his best to help T.J. put his life in order. To fulfill his promise to make it okay before duty called for him to return to the Army.
Bending slightly, he cradled her face in his hands. Her cheeks were wet with her tears and slightly flushed. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, brought his forehead to rest against hers once again and repeated his promise.
“It will be okay. We will make sure that everything is put to right.”
As she nodded and gazed up at him, her brown eyes shimmering from her spent tears, he realized she believed in that promise. Believed in him.
His heart constricted again at the trust she had in him and he vowed to do his best not to disappoint her which meant that as difficult as it might be, they had to decide what to do about T.J.
Chapter 16
An open bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter and he poured them each a small glass before making them a quick dinner.
Macy had protested, saying she wasn’t hungry, but he had insisted. She needed to keep her strength up so that they would be ready to figure out what T.J. was doing and where he might have taken Sara, since both of them now had no doubt that he knew where the girl was.
Between the trip to the Amarillo Rose and the stop at the ranch, it was already dusk. T.J. had likely been gone for hours and what made the most sense was for them to refuel, get some rest and prepare to find T.J. the next day.
He also insisted on Macy helping him, hoping that the simple chores would help take her mind off things. As they worked together in the kitchen, he intentionally kept the talk away from T.J., wanting Macy to relax. If she felt more at ease, it might prompt some idea of where T.J. might have hidden Sara.
While Macy chopped onions and red peppers for the omelets, Fisher took out the eggs and found some bread to toast.
“There’s only six eggs,” he said, glancing down at the plastic egg tray from the refrigerator.
“There’s only two of us,” Macy replied with surprise.
“A man’s got to get his protein,” he said with a smile and rummaged through her fridge until he found a ham steak. Taking it out, he walked with it to the island counter where she was working and laid it before her.
“If the veggies are ready—”
“They are,” she said and handed him the cutting board with the chopped peppers and onions. She grabbed another so she could cut up the ham.
“I’ll get them cooking up,” he said and little by little, with the two of them working side by side, the omelet and toast took shape.
Within less than half an hour, they were seated at the table, eating a delicious omelet. Silent as they finished the simple meal and sipped the last of the wine in the bottle. After, they cleared the table and cleaned the dishes together at the sink.
By the time they had finished, Macy was obviously more in control. More relaxed and truthfully, so was he. Being beside her…
It made him imagine what it would be like to have a family of his own. To do everyday things together like they had tonight. Simple things which somehow brought a peace to his heart that he hadn’t experienced in some time.
She walked him to the door, but then they both stood there, awkward. Uncertain. Lingering at the door, heads hanging downward. He wondered if she was as reluctant as he about all that had happened that day. About leaving her, although he was hesitant to admit that.
“Fisher,” she said, her voice rising in question although she didn’t pick up her head.
He bent a little, trying to see her face, but couldn’t in the dim light of the bulb at the front door. He placed his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin and gently tipped it upward so that he could see her face.
“Macy?”
She kept her eyes downcast as she said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you stay?”
Stay. With her?
It tightened his gut to imagine being with her. Lying beside her and yet…
She was vulnerable and he was…decidedly too puzzled about what she made him feel. Regardless of all that, as she finally tipped her eyes up shyly and the need there slammed into him, he realized he couldn’t deny her request.
“I’ll stay.”
As they walked back into her home, he finally took the time to appreciate her house’s simplicity. No fripperies or excessive feminine touches. He wondered if she had kept this home simple and feminine-free for Tim and T.J. If it was the kind of house she wanted or one she had settled for because of the men in her life.
Was this the kind of house they would have shared if things had been different or if she would have taken the time to stamp their home with her unique personality.
As she opened the door to her bedroom, he finally saw traces of her.
He knew little about design, so the best he could do was call it feminine. Lacey things adorned the rich mahogany furniture in the room. Floral curtains were at the two windows and a bedspread with a similar pattern of roses covered a queen-sized bed. To the far right of the bed sat a big soft chair and ottoman in a floral chintz pattern. A romance novel sat on the ottoman. The cover was up with the open pages facing the ottoman, marking the spot where she had stopped reading.
Macy paused in the middle of the room and gestured to a door at the other end. “The bathroom’s in there in case you need to…you know.”
He didn’t need to do anything, but decided to give her a moment to collect herself. With a courteous nod, he went to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
The decor of the bathroom was even more feminine. Lace decorated the one window and the light rose-colored towels were adorned with beige lace. A painted wrought-iron stand by the bathtub was fanciful as was another by the window which held an assortment of African violets blooming in shades of purple and pink.
He smiled at the flowers, which added so much life to the space, and walked over to touch the velvety surface of one bloom. Soft and lush. Like Macy’s skin.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, he reminded himself. He needed to be in control if he was going to survive the night.
He walked to the pedestal sink, turned on the cold water and splashed his face with it over and over again until he had restored control.
Drying his face and hands with one of the very feminine towels, he then folded it neatly and laid it on the rack to dry.
When he walked back into her bedroom, her door was closed and the room was dimly lit by one small lamp on a nightstand by the bed. Macy was on top of the covers, fully clothed, her back turned toward the bathroom.
He wrung his hands nervously, then wiped them up and down on his jeans before taking a stutter step toward the bed.
She turned at the sound he made, leaned back on one hand as he approached. Her brown-eyed gaze looked him up and down, hesitant but hungry as he stopped at the edge of the bed.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight. I haven’t been alone in this house since…”
“Tim died?”
Shaking her head vehemently, she said, “I bought this house and everything in it a couple of years after Tim died. T.J. and I…we needed a change. There were just too many sad memories at the old place.”
Relief washed over him then. Relief that he wouldn’t be lying in another man’s bed. Beside another man’s memories.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. Tossed them aside and they landed with a thud on the polished hard wood floor.
Facing her, he copied her pose, leaning back on one hand as he considered her. “It must have been hard for you.”
She lay down on her back and nodded. “I didn’t want to believe it at first—that Tim was really going to die. Since we found out that he…”
She shuddered and closed her eyes before shifting to grab the crocheted throw at the foot of the bed. She pulled it up around her, as if she was cold.
It tugged at him with the vulnerability it exposed and he shifted quickly, moving to her side and embracing her. Bringing her to rest beside him as he stroked his hand up and down her side, trying to soothe her.
“I know I said I was sorry at his funeral, but—”
She slipped her hand over his mouth. “Can we talk about something else?”
He frowned, confused until she said, “Could we talk about you? Why you chose the Army?”
He wanted to say “Because of you” but bit the words back. He had already been considering the Army before what had happened with her. What had happened with her had only cemented the decision he had already been about to make.
“My dad did a great job of giving Jericho and me stability after Mom left and I needed that after high school. Community college just wasn’t doing it for me. I needed more.”
“And the Army gave you that?” She cradled his cheek and stroked her thumb across the roughness of his afternoon beard.
He nodded, but it seemed to not be enough for her.
“Did you ever miss Esperanza while you were gone?”
He should have lied. It would have made things that much easier, but he was a man of honor and couldn’t lie to her.
“I missed home more than I thought I would.”
Macy told herself not to read anything into his words. “Jericho and your dad miss you a lot. They worry about you. So do a lot of people in town—you’re our hero.”
He smiled tightly, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “I’m just doing my job.”
“A job that could get you killed.” She shifted her hand down to rest on the hard muscles of his chest. Beneath her palm his heart beat strongly. Steadily, much like the man beside her.
He covered her hand with his, his palm rough on the back of hers. The thin white line of a scar marred one knuckle and another larger one was close to his wrist. The hand of a warrior.
“Almost more than anything, I want you to be safe and to be happy,” she said, finally admitting to what had been in her heart for far too long.
“Almost more? Can I guess that what you want even more is to see T.J. safe and happy,” he questioned, tenderly rubbing his hand back and forth against hers.
“Definitely.”
He slipped his hand from hers and slid it into the short waves of her hair, softly cupping her head. “And what about you?”
“Me?” she asked, slightly befuddled until she met his brilliant green-eyed gaze and his meaning was clear. “What do I want?” she asked, just to be sure.
“Yes, what do you want for yourself?” he said, leaving no room for doubt about the answer he expected from her.
What did she want that was only for herself? she wondered, but then the answer came too swiftly to be denied any longer.
“I want you.”
Chapter 17
A tremor rocked through the hand in her hair and beside her his body tensed.
“Macy,” he said, his tone low and tinged with an odd combination of exasperation and need. He rolled onto his back, breaking contact with her.
She raised herself up on one elbow. “You were right when you said that I wanted you back in high school and that I want you now, but you know what else?”
He looked away, unable to meet her probing gaze as he asked, “What?”
“Want without love is empty. That’s what I realized back in high school. That’s why I married Tim,” she finally confessed, thinking that he deserved a complete explanation after so many years.
The pain in his heart was almost more than he could bear and so strong that he wanted to lash out at her. Before he could control himself, he had flipped and pinned her to the mattress, his body holding her down while he held her hands above her head.
“You never even gave me a chance to prove to you it was more,” he said, his breath ragged in his chest from his distress.
“No, I didn’t and that was wrong. I should have given you a chance, especially when I found out I was pregnant with T.J., only…”
“Only what, damn it! I deserve an answer as to why you kept my son from me for his entire life,” he barked out.
“I was afraid of what I felt for you. I was afraid that if I gave you my heart, you’d break it when you left.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she battled them back, biting her lower lip in a gesture that was all too telling and all too tempting.
He slowly loosened his grip on her hands and bent his head, bringing his lips to a hair’s breadth from hers. “Maybe if you had asked, I wouldn’t have left,” he said and then closed the distance between them and kissed her. Put all of his heart and soul and eighteen years of frustration into showing her just what might have been between them.
The shock of his kiss, filled with such need and yearning, overcame any doubts Macy might have had about whether it was right to explore this. She opened her mouth to his and pressed her body upward, meeting the hardness of his muscled physique. The short strands of his dark hair were soft against her hands as she held his head to her, urging him on.
Over and over they kissed until they were both trembling. Until it wasn’t enough and she lifted her hips against the press of his erection, so full and hard against her belly.
She shuddered and between her legs, her muscles clenched on the emptiness there, but she reminded herself of her earlier words to him. About how empty want was without love.
She had no doubt she cared for him. About him. She had no doubt she could be falling in love with him. With his strength and goodness.
But she also knew that if that love was to grow true and strong, taking this any further tonight would be wrong. Fisher must have sensed it as well since he gave her one last kiss before slowly pulling away.
“I’m willing to wait until you’re ready, Macy,” he said, brushing away a tousled lock of her hair.
She nodded, but had to ask him. “What happens then, Fisher?”
Fisher wished he knew what to tell her. He wished he knew whether she ever would be ready for a relationship with him or whether he could commit to her if she was. Commit to having a wife and family after so many years in the military.
“I’m not sure,” he confessed.
She faced away from him as she said, “Jericho said you might not sign up for another tour of duty. That you might teach instead.”
Damn his brother for being such a busybody, he thought. Hadn’t Jericho ever heard the old saying that loose lips sink ships?
“I’ve been offered a teaching post at West Point.”
“And had you given any thought to it?” she asked, turning toward him once again, the resoluteness in her brown-eyed gaze drilling into him, daring him to lie to her, but he couldn’t.
“I had given it some thought,” he admitted and that seemed to be enough for her for the moment.
“I think it’s time we got some rest,” she said and flipped onto her side.
He nestled against her, his front to her back, spooned as close as he could be, and dropped his arm to rest across her waist while pillowing his head on his other arm.
“Good night, Mace.”
“Good night, Fisher,” she said and laid her arm over his.
For long moments he lay there, listening to her breathe until the rhythm of it deepened and lengthened, confirming to him that she slept. Even then he clung onto wakefulness, trying to experience this peaceful interlude. Wondering how it might be if she lay beside him every night. What it would be like to sample the passion he had experienced but for a brief moment earlier that night.
As he drifted off, the taste of her on his lips and the memory of her pressed close, it occurred to him that maybe family life might not be such a bad thing.
That maybe it was worth giving that teaching position more than just a thought.
He awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and Macy. Her scent lingered on the sheets long after she had left the bed.
He took his time to snuggle her pillow close and savor that rose-filled scent. Maybe even memorize for the future if it turned out to be that his nights were meant to be without her.
Realizing he couldn’t dawdle for long, however, he rose and went to the bathroom where he relieved himself and after, washed his face and hands. Put a little of her toothpaste on his finger and scrubbed his mouth out the best he could.
Thankfully, it took just his fingers to rake smooth the short strands of his hair and then he was on his way downstairs and to the kitchen, where Macy was standing at the counter, fork-splitting some English muffins.
“Good morning,” he said and came up behind her, dropped a quick kiss on the side of her face.
“Mornin’, Fisher. I walked over to the corner store and got some more eggs. Figured I’d make us a bite to eat while we decided what to do today.”
“Let me help,” he said, grabbed the muffins and brought them to the toaster while Macy cracked the eggs.
After he popped the muffins into the toaster oven and got it cranking, he leaned back against the counter and asked, “Have you given any thought to where T.J. might have taken Sara?”