The Sheriff’s Christmas Surprise Page 12

  It took her too long to find her tongue, although she congratulated herself for not swallowing it.

  “I cook,” she finally replied in a voice that was only a shade less than breathless.

  Turning away because she was afraid of melting on the spot, Olivia drew in a long breath and tried to access her brain.

  Her first attempt failed.

  This would have been a good time for Bobby to start crying, rescuing her from an awkward moment. She glanced over to where she’d relocated the playpen. But the little boy had suddenly developed an overwhelming fascination with his hands, which he held up in the air and twisted in every conceivable direction, obviously marveling at their dexterity by cooing and gurgling.

  With no small relief, Olivia could feel her brain function again. “I thought that making you breakfast was the very least I could do to say thank you for putting us up like this.” She hadn’t cooked in years, not once there’d been enough money for takeout from one of the better Dallas restaurants, but, like riding a bike, it had come back to her.

  “Nothing to thank me for,” Rick assured her, taking a seat. She placed a steaming cup of black coffee before him. He smiled appreciatively. The aroma was enough to kick-start his day and get him going. “The room was there whether or not you used it.” He took a slow sip, letting the inky liquid wind its way through him, waking up every cell it came in contact with. “You sleep well?” he asked her.

  She had slept like a woman anticipating an earthquake, but no way could she have admitted that and not had him asking embarrassing questions. “I have a lot on my mind and Bobby was restless, but under the circumstances, yes, I think I slept pretty well.”

  The sheriff’s deep green eyes held hers for a moment and she had the impression that she hadn’t fooled him at all, but that could have been her own paranoia.

  Turning back to the stove, Olivia quickly slid the omelet and the warm slice of Texas toast from the griddle onto a plate and placed the latter before him next to his coffee cup.

  He sampled the omelet first. The next moment, he was smiling and nodding his approval. “This is really good. I didn’t think you knew how to cook,” he confessed. She hadn’t struck him as the type who would have taken the time to learn.

  They were both guilty of typecasting each other, she thought, amused.

  “Had to,” she told him. “It’s a lot cheaper than takeout and when you’re on a tight budget, every penny counts.” That he seemed to understand. “These days I don’t have to worry about living from paycheck to paycheck. But that doesn’t mean I can’t whip something up if I have to. I actually like cooking.”

  “Lucky for me I got to be around when you started whipping,” Rick commented, doing justice to the serving she’d given him. He was almost half finished. “This is really good.”

  Maybe it had something to do with having all her nerve endings so close to the surface. Whatever the reason, Olivia hadn’t thought a simple compliment could please her so much. But it did.

  “Thank you.”

  “Aren’t you going to have any?”

  “I never seem to be able to eat anything I make, at least, not until it reaches the leftover stage.” She’d always cooked for Tina and wound up nibbling a little of the meal later on.

  “That would explain the killer figure,” he observed, “but you really should have something.”

  She barely heard the second part of his statement. The first had caught her up short, even though he’d uttered it as if it was just a throwaway line. And telling herself that he probably handed out kind words a lot more than he handed out tickets didn’t temper the effect the compliment had on her. For a moment, she reveled in the words, smiling, Olivia had no doubt, like some village idiot.

  “I’ll have some coffee,” she said, taking down another cup from the cupboard and filling it three-quarters of the way up.

  “That’ll put meat on your bones,” he quipped.

  She didn’t have to look at Rick to know that he was grinning. She could hear it in his voice. Was he teasing her, or being sarcastic? And why should it matter either way? Once Tina was conscious, she was out of here. More than likely, she’d never see Santiago again.

  Even so, she couldn’t let his comment go. “Do I look that skinny to you?”

  She wasn’t fishing for another compliment, but it had been a long while since she’d actually looked at her reflection and maybe she’d lost touch with the woman she had become. Her life, in the past year, had been one great big blur of briefs, trials—and coming to grips with Tina getting pregnant and giving birth to Bobby. Having Don in the mix hadn’t exactly helped with clarity, either.

  “No,” Rick replied honestly. “You don’t. But you will if you just run on liquids. You really should eat something. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that breakfast was the most important meal of the day?”

  “I vaguely recall something like that,” she admitted. “Point noted.” She nodded her head as she held the steaming cup of black coffee with both hands, drawing in comfort from the heat.

  Olivia glanced over his shoulder and out the window. The world outside hadn’t lightened up any and, at this hour, it should have. Instead, it was growing progressively darker.

  “Looks like rain,” she observed.

  There was concern in her voice. He knew what she was thinking. That if it rained, he might use that as an excuse not to take her back to the hospital. She needn’t have worried. He’d never seen rain as a deterrent.

  “The crops could do with some rain,” he told her. “Ground’s been getting parched.”

  She took a breath, inching toward her subject slowly. She needed him so she was careful not to be too blunt. “Do you have flash floods around here?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take you back up. Barring a daring bank robbery taking place here, of course.”

  Rick sounded so serious, it took her a moment to realize he was kidding.

  And then she smiled. “I take it you don’t have robberies out here.”

  “Oh, every once in a while, theft does rear its head. Usually it’s some school kid being threatened by the class bully for his lunch money or something along those lines. Most of the time, though, Forever’s pretty much safe as safe can be.” He was rather proud of that, even though Forever’s tranquility added to his general boredom and ultimately had caused him to apply to the Dallas PD.

  Can’t have it both ways, Santiago, he silently lectured. Either be content with the peace or go where the action is.

  The baby began to fuss. Her rest period over, Olivia was on her feet in an instant. “He wants his bottle,” she said.

  In anticipation of Bobby’s next feeding—she’d already updated a schedule for the infant—she’d prepared the bottle just before Rick had walked into the kitchen. After taking Bobby out of the playpen, she sat down and fed him.

  Rick was surprised that watching her with the baby could stir such warm feelings within him. After all, neither one was anything to him. There was no reason for him to be experiencing this kind of a reaction.

  And yet, he was.

  Further proof, he decided, that he really did need a change. To move on and find a new place for himself. A new, rewarding place. Who knew what that would bring with it?

  MICK HENLEY CUT his long weekend short and returned a day early, grumbling to anyone within earshot that it was raining “cats and dogs” at his favorite fishing hole some fifty miles southeast of Forever. Being soaked to the skin clearly took away some of the pleasure generated by pitting himself against nature.

  On his stop by the diner for some much needed hot coffee, Mick was informed by Miss Joan that the “chewed up, overpriced piece of machinery sittin’ outside” her place was in desperate need of his skills.

  Those were the words he used when he showed up on Rick’s doorstep that morning just as Rick was finishing up his breakfast.

  “Miss Joan said that the lady who’s got the keys to that sorry vehicle’s staying here,�
� said the tall, almost painfully thin mechanic. He raised himself up on his toes in order to peer into the sheriff’s house, most likely to see if he could spot the woman in question. Rick was six-two, but Henley was approximately two inches taller, seeming even taller because he was so rail-thin.

  Drawn by the sound of voices, Olivia came up behind Rick, holding Bobby in her arms. She heard the stranger’s last sentence.

  “It won’t start,” she told the mechanic. She looked at him a little uncertainly. This was the town mechanic? The man looked more like a wild-eyed prophet out of some poorly cast movie set in biblical times. All he needed was a flowing robe and rope sandals to go with his long, straggly gray hair and the three-day stubble on his gaunt face.

  “So Miss Joan tells me. She also tells me that Bruiser used your car as a big teething ring.” He laughed shortly. The noise sounded more like a cackle to Olivia. “I always did say that dog was a decent judge of machinery.”

  She didn’t feel overly optimistic about leaving her car’s fate in the hands of a mechanic who took his lead from a dog, but, since Henley was the only mechanic in town, she had no choice.

  “Do you think that you can fix the problem?” she asked, trying to sound as upbeat as she could.

  “Can’t rightly say,” he told her honestly. “Haven’t figured out what the problem is yet. Well, since I ain’t got nothing else to do, I’ll tow your car to my garage and have a look-see.” About to leave, he paused. “You got the keys?”

  “Not on me, but I’ll go get them,” she said, debating whether she should add, “don’t go anywhere,” or if that was understood. The man didn’t seem overly bright, but she decided not to state the obvious. She was counting on Rick to keep the man there until she retrieved the car keys. “I’ll be just a minute,” she promised.

  With that, Olivia hurried off to the bedroom, where she’d left her purse. She was back within moments. Bobby gurgled, obviously enjoying the quick sprint to the rear of the house and back.

  Returning, she was just in time to see the semi-amused, utterly envious look that the older mechanic was giving Rick. Curious, she instinctively knew to keep her question to herself.

  “Here they are,” she said, rejoining the two men. She held out the car keys to Henley.

  Long, sun-browned and permanently stained fingers wrapped themselves around the keys. Henley nodded. “We’ll talk again,” he promised, taking his leave.

  About the car, or about something else? An uneasy feeling slid up and down her spine. But then, if the old man had meant anything sinister, Rick would have called him out on it, right? The latter was the law around here, she reminded herself, for whatever that was worth.

  She was beginning to feel as if she’d gotten trapped in an episode of The Twilight Zone. How else could she explain this sudden, strong attraction for Rick? It just wasn’t like her and yet, every time she came within close proximity of the man, her system suddenly and loudly declared: Go!

  “And he’s the only mechanic in town?” she questioned Rick again, watching Henley’s back as he retreated to his vehicle, a fifteen-year-old truck that had definitely seen better days.

  “Yes.” Rick added for her benefit, “Don’t worry, Mick’s good at what he does.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Olivia murmured. Any further exchange was curtailed as they both became aware of the fact that Bobby had pungently recycled his breakfast. “I’d better go change him,” she said with a sigh.

  “Not a bad idea,” Rick agreed as she turned to hurry back to the bedroom.

  WHEN RICK TOOK her to the hospital later that day, her hopes that Tina had regained consciousness quickly died. Her sister was no better. On the bright side, the surgeon told her, when she caught up to him, that Tina was no worse, either.

  “You’ve got to understand, Ms. Blayne,” he told her, “This is a process that doesn’t have a specific timetable. It doesn’t punch a time clock that says it’ll be gone in a certain amount of hours or days. We just have to wait and see how she responds. And you’re going to have to stay patient,” he added.

  That was easy for the doctor to say. His whole life was here. He didn’t have a job waiting for him back in Dallas. A job that came with a very impatient boss who, when she’d asked for some time off, had looked as if it physically pained him to give her even a short leave of absence.

  A leave of absence that might not be nearly long enough.

  She would have to call Norvil tomorrow to request an extension. She definitely wasn’t looking forward to that. All things considered, she would rather go before Susan Reems, known as the district’s “hanging judge” to plead a case rather than ask Harris Norvil for a favor.

  She stayed with Tina for several hours, talking to her, reading to her, hoping to bring her sister around, if only just a little.

  But nothing changed and, finally, she asked Rick to take her back to Forever.

  “At least there was no bad news,” Rick said as they drove back, trying to be encouraging. And he was right, she thought. Things could have been a lot worse.

  The bad news waited for them once they got back to Forever. They stopped to pick up the baby at the diner and returned to Rick’s house. No sooner did they walk through the door than the phone rang.

  “It’s for you,” Rick said, holding out the receiver. “It’s Mick. Here, I’ll take the baby,” he offered, trading her the receiver for the infant.

  She had a bad feeling about this. “Hello?”

  Mick started talking immediately. “It ain’t a death sentence or nothing like that,” he assured her. “But your car needs parts I don’t carry—don’t usually work on fancy, pricey cars—but I can order them. Shouldn’t be but a couple of days—”

  “A couple of days?” she echoed. She’d hoped it was something simple, like a new battery.

  “If we’re lucky,” Henley tacked on. “Now, you want me to send for ’em, or just forget the whole thing?”

  That wasn’t an option and she had a feeling this skinny highwayman knew it. “Send for them,” she instructed, biting back a sigh.

  “First thing in the morning,” he promised.

  The connection went dead. She stood there holding the receiver, fighting the urge to throw it across the room. Olivia hung it up instead.

  She went in search of Bobby and found him in the guest room. Rick was playing peekaboo with him and Bobby was laughing a funny belly laugh that had already become part of his personality.

  Standing there, watching them for a couple of minutes, she could feel the knot in her stomach unclenching. The child wasn’t really hers. Neither was the man. But it didn’t matter. For one isolated moment in time, she looked upon it as a family scene, something she was part of by virtue of simply being there and it made her feel good.

  She found that she could even smile.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the next three days, as the threat of rain hung in the air, so prevalent that Olivia could almost taste the drops, the sheriff-with-the-heart-of-gold drove her to see her sister every morning and then drove her back to Forever and her nephew at the end of the day. In between, Rick would disappear, leaving her to stay with her sister and pray for a miracle as she kept up almost a steady stream of conversation, interspersed with reading the local newspaper out loud to Tina.

  It made no difference.

  Tina remained in a coma, out of reach. It was getting harder and harder to see her sister that way.

  As her mind searched for positive things to dwell on, Olivia began to wonder where Rick went during the day after he left her at the hospital. Was he visiting friends he knew in town? Going to the movies? What?

  When he came to Tina’s room to pick her up the evening of the third day, Olivia decided to ask him outright. She knew that he had every right to his privacy and she had no right to pry.

  But knowing that didn’t diminish her curiosity.

  However, before she could open her mouth to ask, Rick handed her an umbrella. That was when
she noticed that his hat and jacket were wet. Not damp from accumulated drizzle, but wet, really wet.

  “You’re going to need this,” he told her. “It’s raining like there’s no tomorrow.” The sheriff glanced over Olivia’s shoulder at the unconscious young woman in the bed, then back at her. “No change?”

  “No change.” God, but she hated the sound of those words. They were the same two words the nurses told her every morning as she walked into the ICU, asking how Tina was doing.

  Rick gave her an encouraging smile as he led the way toward the front entrance. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Yes, maybe tomorrow,” Olivia echoed, wishing she could actually believe that.

  Whether Tina regained consciousness or not, once her car was back among the running, she was going back to Dallas to talk to their family physician to find out what it took to get Tina airlifted from Pine Ridge Memorial and brought to Parkland Memorial Hospital, one of the outstanding hospitals in the state. The doctors there must be able to bring Tina around. Parkland Memorial attracted a more gifted class of surgeon, she thought, tamping down the desperate feeling within her.

  It wasn’t raining when she walked through the door and went outside. It was pouring. Relentlessly.

  “Here, take this,” Rick said, opening the umbrella and thrusting it into her hand. Before she could protest that he needed it more than she did, he was gone, weaving through the parking lot to retrieve his vehicle.

  The wind came from all angles, driving the rain almost at a slant on one side, then shifting positions and sending it lashing at her from the other side. She found herself shifting the umbrella from one side to the other in an attempt to keep at least semidry.

  It was a losing battle.

  When he drove the car up to the hospital’s front entrance several minutes later, she saw once again that Rick looked absolutely soaked to the bone. Shutting the umbrella as swiftly as she could, she dived into the front passenger seat and quickly shut the door. Despite her efforts, she was almost as wet as Rick.