Once More A Family - Part 9
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Part 9

Katie lifted a pale eyebrow. "How's his temp?"

"It was a fraction under a hundred at 3:00 a.m. Since heseemed so peaceful, Ididn't want to disturb him this morning."

"Vomiting?"

"No, thank heavens."

Riawalkedto the bleached-pine table and sat down. Kate remained where shewas, leaning against the counter with her mug cradled in both hands a fewinches from her mouth.

"Sound's like Jimmy's over the hump." Kate paused to take another moregenerous sip, her eyes narrowing in blissful enjoyment. "Next question, how'sJimmy's mom doing?"

"Still in shock, I think,"Ria admitted with a laugh that came out on thenervous side. "Or maybe sh.e.l.l-shocked is a better description."

"From what you said last night it sounds like Hardin didn't give you a lot ofnotice."

Riasmiled at that. Kate had only called Grady by his Christian nameonce-onRia's wedding day. It was also the only timeRia had ever seen herfriend cry. Kate swore it was from sheer happiness, and since she'd beengrinning as well as snuffling,Ria had taken her at her word, although a partof her wondered if Katie wasn't a little bit in love with Grady herself.Thinking of that now, she felt a familiar pang. It wasn't jealousy, of course.More like amazement. Of all her friends, Katie was also the only one who'dnever said a bad word about Grady after the divorce. In fact, she'd tried veryhard to convinceRia to try a separation first.

"Grady called me after they'd landed at Indianapolis. It was the longest twoand a half hours of my life." She reached out to align the pepper mill withthe salt cellar. "He waited three days before telling me he'd found ourchild,Katie. Three days!" She felt her cheeks turning hot. "He claimed he wasprotecting me."

"Knowing Hardin, I'd say that's exactly what he was doing."

"I'm thirty-five years old, Katherine. I don't need protecting."

Kate's skepticism was written in large letters on her face. "If he hadcalled, you would have been on the next plane out, right?"

"Of course!"

"Wringing your hands, gnawing your lip raw. Your basic puddle of quiveringnerve endings. Which wouldn't have done you or Jimmy any good."

Riashot her a disgusted look. "Gee, thanks for the flattering description ofmy strength of character, Dr. Stevens."

Kate raised her mug. "Your character is just fine, Ms. Hardin. It's yourtotal obsession with this whole mommy thing that's always bothered me."

Riabristled. "Loving my child is not obsessive."

"It is if it leads you to neglect your husband."

Ria'sjaw dropped. "Is that what you really think?"

"Yes, Victoria, that's what I really think," Kate muttered before finishingher coffee. She was refilling her mug when Grady walked in.

Though his eyes were still shadowed, he looked more alert, wary, even,especially when his gaze found hers. His hair was damp and tousled and curlinglow on his strong neck. His jaw and checks had the crisp, clean look of aclose shave. Though he'd tucked the paint-spattered black and gold shirt intothe low waistband of his jeans, he looked more like a h.e.l.l-raising streettough than a decorated police captain.

As soon as he saw Kate, the wary look disappeared and his eyes lit up. At thesame time his grin flashed, a little crooked, a little reckless and withenough s.e.xual wattage to take even the strongest, most resistant woman to herknees. Though she knew it was simply the remnants of oldfeelingsstirring,Riafelt a powerful need torub againstthat strong,hard body. Just longenough to ease the hotlittle ache low and deep inside.

"Hey there, handsome," Kate offered with a brilliant smile that hadRianarrowing her gaze. "Love theRebel Without a Causelook. It suitsyou."

"Hey, gorgeous lady," he said, leaning down tokissthe cheek Kate offered.

The look Kate slanted him was playful. "Lordy, I've missed that old zing."

He looked a little startled. "What zing is that?"

"That hot little sizzle that hums through a girl when you turn on the charm."

He turned red. "You must have me mixed up with one of my brothers," hemuttered as he grabbed the pot to refill the mug he'd carried with him.

"Nope." Kate shotRia a bland look. "Riawalked into wallsfor aweek after youkissed her for the first time."

You'll pay for this big-time,Ria told her friend with a look that had Kate'smouth twitching. "Don't you have rounds to make this morning, Doctor?"

Kate glanced at her watch. "Guess that's my cue to haul out my stethoscopeand bedside manner."

"Such as it is,"Ria muttered.

Unfazed, Kate picked up the handmade doctor's bag with its gold monogram thathad been a graduation gift from her proud father. "So, Mom and Dad, where's mypatient?"

Riabraced both elbows on the table and used her fingertips to rub hertemples. From the den came the frenetic cacophony of a cartoon soundtrack.

Twice she'd turned down the volume on the TV and twice Jimmy had turned it upagain. Finally, she'd just given up.

Later she would worry about her son's eardrums.

It had been nearly two hours since Kate had emerged from the bedroom with atroubledexpression and a bluntdiagnosis. "Physically he's fine. His temp isnormal, his other vitals good. But I have to tell you, I think this is onevery unhappy little boy."

Utterly miserable was more like it.

The last few hours had been nothing like the joyous reunion she'd picturedover and over in her mind for so many anxious months. In fact, it was close tobeing a disaster. Instead of the laughing, bright-eyed, affectionate childshe'd been aching to cuddle and kiss and spoil, the boy in the other room wasvirtually a stranger who stared at her with angry suspicious eyes-when helooked at her at all.

After Kate had left, Jimmy had picked at the pancakes she'd made, his headdown and his shoulders hunched, spurning every attempt she or Grady had madeto coax him into a conversation.

He didn't want to wear the shirt she'd picked out from the several Grady hadbought him.

He didn't want to brush his teeth or wash his face.

He didn't want to see pictures of himself as a baby.

And for sure, he didn't want to go through the boxes of toys she'd packedaway so carefully.

In short, her adorable, beloved, maddeningly stubborn son didn't want to doanything but sit in front of the TV and stare at the "stupid" screen. Stupidbecause "only dweebs and welfare creeps" had nineteen-inch screens.

It was that p.r.o.nouncement that had stirred Grady's wrath. Fortunately,Ria hadseen the firecracker heat come into his eyes in time to head him off. She hada terrible feeling it was going to be a very long day.

"Bad headache?"

Careful to keep her eyes narrowed against the obscenely bright sun streamingthrough the kitchen window, she lifted her head far enough to meet Grady'sgaze over the remains of the breakfast neither finished. "Only a twelve on ascale of ten."

He smiled a little. His exasperation with his son was still there, mixed inwith the shadows of other less-easily identified emotions in the recesses ofhis dark pupils. "Wantsome aspirin?"

"I took three while you were on the phone with your folks."

Giving up on the attempt to rub away the stabbing pulses of pain, she foldedher arms on the place mat. "I'm glad you told your mom and dad to hold off onvisiting. I think Jimmy needs more time to adjust."

His mouth gentled. Grady's love and respect for his parents was one of life'sabsolutes. There'd been a time when she'd thought herself included on the short list of those he loved. "Mom sucked in pretty hard, but Dad understood."

"When are they leaving on their rafting trip?"

"The end of the month." He rubbed the back of his neck, then flexed hisshoulders. "I heard you had a vacation planned."

"Two weeks starting today. One of the reasons I calledTova so early was toask her to tell her mom I wouldn't be using their cabin after all."

She shook her head at the memory ofTova's excited squeal when she'd brokenthe news about Jimmy's return. Betty LouSanberra had been a little morerestrained, buthappy for her nonetheless.

"I was hoping to have Jimmy's furniture delivered today, but the transfercompany can't do anything until Tuesday."

He glanced at the clock, then leaned back and hooked his thumbs in the beltloops ofhis thigh-hugging jeans. Theold shirt pulled taut, stretched aroundhis torso like a second skin. He was thinner than she remembered, she decided.And he'd eaten less than she had. Jet lag, he'd said.

She lifted her mug to her mouth and drank the last of her coffee, thenglanced at the pot. It was still half-full, something that was unheard of whena Hardin male was in the vicinity. Frowning, she glanced across the table tofind that his mug, too, was nearly full. Instead, he was drinking the milkJimmy refused to finish-and Grady hated milk. She was beginning to think she'ddropped into her own zigzag version of Wonderland.

"I used to hate it when my mother locked herself in her room and refused tocome out," she said with a sigh. "At the moment, though, that seems like awonderful solution."

He dismissed that with another of those soft smiles that never failed to touch her. "Nah,that'snot your style, honey. You might weave a little after aleft jab, but you come back strong."

At the moment she wasn't so sure she could so much as make a fist, shereflected as she heard a power mower cough into life somewhere on the groundsof the complex. She and Jimmy used to ride the jazzy red lawn tractor Gradyhad given her for her thirtieth birthday. He'd also given her a French silknightgown he'd insisted she model for him in the moonlight.

Jimmy had loved that tractor almost as much as Grady had loved his Charger.Jimmy tended to drive with the same disregard for danger, too, with his ballcap pulled over his eyes like the visor of a helmet. Sometimes it had been arocket ship, sometimes a race car. Smiling to herself, she glanced toward thewindow.

Oh, Jimmy,she thought, her heart breaking.Why can't you let me love you?

"They abused him, didn't they?" Her voice wasn't quite steady. "The ... peoplewho had him."

Grady glanced down. "Not physically, no. The doctor from CaliforniaChildren's Services who examined him agreed with Katie. He's well-nourishedand healthy. On the other hand, his behavior sucks."

"He seems so ... soangry."

"Wouldn't you be if you'd been ripped out of your own world and dumped into aplace where people call you by someone else's name?" He got up suddenly andcarried the milk carton to the fridge. "The shrink who examined him said itmight take a while for him to adjust."

"There's something you're nottelling me, isn't there?" she said to his broad,stiff back. "You don't need to protect me. I won't fall apart."

He turned toface her.His eyes were tired, butsteady, his expression more copthan father. "If I knew more, I'd tell you,Ree . But I don't. The creeps whohad him didn't give up a thing, though G.o.d knows Mendoza and I tried d.a.m.n nearevery trick we'd learned between us."

Too tense to sit a moment longer, she got up to carry her cereal bowl to thesink. "What have you found out about them, theWilsons ?"

"Too d.a.m.n little. Mendoza's still running all the aliases. Last I heard he'dcome up with a half dozen for both the male and the female. At least that manyarrests between them, but no convictions. Like I said, they're pros."

She turned to shoot him an angry look. "You make them sound admirable."

Grady kept his own anger tightly leashed. A man lost his perspective when hismind was clouded with rage. He made bad decisions, spit out words he laterregretted. If that man was a cop, a momentary lapse in control could getsomeone killed. So he'd learned to turn that white hot flash of fury inward,grounding it somewhere deep inside himself until the urge to lash out easedup. But he'd come close to losing it during the hours he and Mendoza had satacross from the lowlifes who'd stolen his child.

"They're human garbage,Ree ," he said, not bothering to gentle histone."Well-educated, middle-cla.s.s sc.u.m who feed on the misery of others."

"Too bad they weren't shot resisting arrest," she declared fiercely as sheturned on the hot tap with a hard twist of her wrist. Steam billowedupward,wisping the ends of her hair into flyaway curls at the nape of herneck.

She'd cut her hair since he'd seen her last, and he felt a twinge of regretat the thought of never being able to bury his face in the silky mane. It hadbeen three years since he'd breathed in the scent of roses clinging to herskin, three years since he'd kissed her, three years since he'd felt the warmlittle tremors of her release vibrating beneath him.

Three years of cold showers and empty rooms and waking up each morning with ahole in his life.

"Where did they live?" She glanced up, her brow puckering. "TheWilsons ?"

"Last known address was San Diego." Restless and a little buzzed on thecaffeine, he grabbed the cereal box from the counter and opened cupboard doorsuntil he found the right one. "Mendoza was going to check it out as soon as hegot a warrant. Once we find out what school Jimmy went to and talk to histeacher, get the name of his friends, he might start opening up."

One of the calls he'd made whileRia had been organizing breakfast had been toMendoza's office in Calexico. According to the female agent who'd taken hiscall, Cruz was having a problem tracking down Jimmy's teacher. It seemed hewasn't enrolled in the school closest to theWilsons ' home. In fact, the nameSteven Allen Wilson hadn't been in the public school's database of enrolled students. Cruz was in the process of checking the private primary schools.

"How long does it take to get a warrant?" she asked a.s.she rinsed the dishesone by one.

"Not long." He put away the syrup and the b.u.t.ter, then looked around forsomething else to occupy his hands-and his thoughts. Anything to keep him fromrubbing his palms over that tight little bottom she kept wiggling at himwithevery swish of her dishcloth. His body gave him another of those sneakingkicks, exactly where it hurt the most. "I left this number, by the way."

The look she gave him was wary. "I hope you're not thinking of staying hereagain tonight."

It had been the worst kind of h.e.l.l bedding down on her floor, knowing she wasonly a short walk away. He'd nearly paced a rut in her carpet, thinking aboutthose skimpy summer nightgowns she'd worn, the ones with the cobweb lace thatskimmed the top of her thighs every time she walked. A man would be six timesa fool to willingly put himself through that kind of torture again.

"No need to think about it," he all but growled. "I'm staying." He carriedthe last of the dishes to the sink, then plucked the dishcloth from her hand."Kid got syrup on the table," he said when she glared.

"You can't stay here!"

"I admit the floor's not my first choice, but I have a hunch you'd shoot thatone down, so I figure to borrow Dad's sleeping bag."

Something that looked like panic glimmered in the back of her dark pupils forthe span of a blink. "Grady, read my lips. This is my house. You can't stayhere."

"Why not?" He finished wiping the table and walked back to the sink.

"Because it's not necessary," she muttered, s.n.a.t.c.hing the cloth from hishand. "Jimmy and I will manage justfine."

He shot her a grin that felt a little c.o.c.ky. He could handleher anger, evenher resentment if he had to, but the worry in her eyes had been tearing himapart. "Afraid you'll be overcome with l.u.s.t and jump me in the night?"

"Hardly," she muttered, jerking her gaze back to the plate she'd beenrinsing.

"AfraidI'lljumpyou?"

Her chest rose and fell in a fast breath. "In case you've forgotten, I have agun. A cute little nickel-plated automatic you bought me for our firstChristmas. And I know how to use it."

"I have a gun, too, and it's bigger than yours. 'Course it's notnickel-plated, but-"

"Don't say it," she warned, but her lips twitched, and her cheeks were pink.He'd probably roast in h.e.l.l for it, given the fact that their troubles withJimmy were anything but over, but suddenly he felt hopeful.

Maybe there was such a thing as a second chance, after all.