The Officer And The Renegade. Helen Myers R.

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СКАЧАТЬ days—not that there was anything to smile about at the moment. Boots, jeans and a man’s plaid western shirt remained her uniform, and as usual she wore an apron with huge pockets. At the store it was always denim, at home she switched to cotton. None of that had changed since she’d started the business. As for the no-nonsense German bun, it was still a standard, too. More gray than sable now, but it hadn’t thinned much that he could see.

      When she drew closer, he spotted the pinched quality of her features, noted that her eyes were shadowed with concern and disapproval, the once-warm hazel irises shooting off metallic sparks. That hardened her handsome face even more, a face already marred by sun and stress-etched fine lines. Since Taylor was responsible for some of Jane Thurman Blackstone’s biggest disappointments and heartache, it was only natural that there should be no sign of her gracious businesslike demeanor.

      “It’s all right, Mother. I’m not going to do anything foolish that will get me sent back to prison.”

      Even so, she stopped a few feet from them and crossed her strong, tanned arms. “Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded of Taylor. “You’re not welcome here.”

      “I’m aware of that, Mrs. Blackstone,” Taylor murmured with a nod that might have done double duty as a greeting. “But I have a job to do. Perhaps you heard about Chief Benning falling while doing some repairs on the roof of our house?”

      His mother’s expression indicated that Taylor’s question matched her fashion sense. “This is Redoubt. Everyone hears everything.”

      “Then you know he hasn’t yet replaced Lew Sandoval. As a result, I’ve agreed to take the job. I—” Taylor gestured to her clothes “—apologize for the attire. But I only just arrived.” She added more gently, “How’ve you been?”

      “How do you think I’ve been? My son isn’t home twenty-four hours and already you’re here. You’re worse than a bad penny and rotten apple combined!”

      “That will be enough, Mother.” Hugh may not have done such a good job of it so far, but he wanted to handle Taylor himself.

      Ignoring his quiet command, she lifted an already stubborn chin and scoffed at Taylor. “What qualifies you to wear a gun?”

      Taylor lifted her chin, as well. “Nine years with the Detroit P.D.”

      “It seems,” Hugh added before his mother could respond, “that she wants me to leave by sundown. Apparently my presence is making the citizenry nervous.”

      That had her fisting her hands and setting them on the hips that had carried two healthy children full-term. “How dare you! All of you! The law can’t or won’t do what it’s supposed to do, so you bully my son? Well, it’s not going to happen. He’s paid enough, and then some. And for what? A crime he wasn’t guilty of! Have you no shame?”

      “More than you can imagine,” Taylor replied, almost too softly to hear. “But I also have my orders. Believe me, I’m very sorry—”

      “We don’t want your regrets!” Despite standing a good two inches shorter, his mother shook a fist at her. “You had your chance, but you betrayed Hugh, betrayed all of us. Go away and leave us alone!”

      For a moment Taylor looked as if she would ignore the command, try to reason with his mother. But suddenly something inside her deflated and those unforgettable blue eyes shifted to him. “I’ve said what I was asked to say. The rest is up to you. Be careful, Hugh.”

      As far as threats went, hers had been all but wrapped in cotton. If she’d been like that in Detroit, small wonder she hadn’t lasted. But as he watched her walk away, Hugh had difficulty holding on to his sarcasm. Strange...the last time she’d walked away from him, the emotions that had churned and stabbed at his insides were clear and acute—disbelief, pain and an anger that had left him impotent and all but frozen for a long, long time. He wished his current feelings could be as easily defined.

      Prison had indeed changed him, hardened and embittered him. If necessary, he could stand before this entire town and tell them all to go to hell. At least that’s what he’d believed before Taylor had driven up here. But now...

      Hell, it wouldn’t take a magnifying glass to spot the chink in your armor, pal.

      If only time hadn’t been so kind to her. He’d always thought her a natural woman, someone not unlike his mother who had a no-nonsense approach to her gender, but Taylor was more feminine nonetheless. That’s why it had been such a shock to learn she was a cop. Shapeless T-shirt and ancient jeans aside, she remained one of the sexiest women he’d ever known, her fine-boned, slim body always moving with an easy grace he knew she didn’t recognize let alone appreciate. Lady Blue, Wind Woman, he’d dubbed her when as kids they’d ridden over the hills and prairies. He had only to close his eyes to remember her incredible hair back then, how it would fly behind her like a golden eagle’s wing. How could she have cut it off? He didn’t want to acknowledge that the shorter style accented the angles and contours of her face, and added a youthfulness and vulnerability that was echoed by her sensitive mouth.

      Damn. He had to forget that mouth.

      “Can they do it?”

      He welcomed his mother’s intrusion into his thoughts. “Anybody can do anything if they’re determined enough.”

      “Then what are we going to do?”

      “Ignore them for as long as we can. Take one day at a time.” It was a lesson he’d learned white caged. Consequently, he doubted few people out here could match his patience. In prison there had been little else to do but wait...and try to survive. “Don’t dwell,” he said as much for his own benefit as for his mother’s. “You knew my coming back wouldn’t be easy.”

      “Knew, yes. But a mother can still hope.” She glanced at the departing Blazer. “It wasn’t fair of Emmett to send her. That cunning coyote never did play fair.”

      She hadn’t always spoken with such resentment toward the Bennings. Once she’d treated Taylor, who’d been motherless for most of her childhood, as tenderly as she had Noel. Then Piers Marsden raped his little sister. Everything changed after that.

      Fourteen years. Noel was thirty-one now, and although still single, she was finding some peace living in Arizona where she worked for a private foundation that helped women in trouble. Several times over the years she had tried to convince their mother to join her out there. So far she hadn’t succeeded.

      “Would it be so bad to move?” he asked, curious to see if his mother had reconsidered.

      “Your father was born here. He’s buried here. This is my home.”

      His father had been Laughing Max Blackstone, half Jicarillo Apache and half Navajo, a strong, kind man who had been the center of Hugh’s life. A state road department supervisor, he had been killed at a job site when an eighteen-wheeler lost its brakes and had gone out of control. Hugh had been twelve, Noel seven. Their mother had just opened the feed store only weeks before, and suddenly what had begun as a comfortable life became a challenging one as they all worked together to make ends meet. There had been some insurance money, but their mother had tried to keep those funds for his and Noel’s education. He’d made her use his share for other things because he hadn’t been in a hurry to go off to college, not when she’d become so dependent on his help. There had also been Taylor...

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