Книга - The Chosen Child

The Chosen Child
Brenda Mott


Their lives would never be the same againWhile Nikki's sister survived a horrible hit-and-run accident on a secluded mountain highway, the baby she was carrying for Nikki and her husband wasn't so lucky. Devastated, Nikki and Cody struggle to get past the loss of their last chance to have a child and save their strained marriage. If only Cody wasn't with the Deer Creek Police Department.If only he could give up his all-consuming vendetta to find the drunk responsible–and make him pay.









“Did you bring gloves?”


Cody eyed Dustin's baggy jeans. A person could hide a small child and two dogs in the pockets of those things.

“Don’t need ’em.”

Cody bit back a sigh, “Yeah, you do.” He leaned forward and took the small pair of leather gloves he’d picked up at the feed store out of the glove compartment and tossed them in Dustin’s lap. The boy glared at him, but Cody ignored him.

“I’m not a hick.” Dustin spoke the word in such a way that it let Cody know exactly what he thought of him.

“I believe the politically correct term is cowboy,” Cody shot back. Then he softened. He was supposed to be setting a good example, not arguing with the boy. “Look, the gloves are for your safety, like I told you before. I’m not trying to make you into a hick.”

“Don’t you mean cowboy?” Dustin looked out the passenger window as though bored out of his mind. “How can you stand living out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Cody resisted his initial impulse to throttle the kid. The ranch meant almost as much to him as his marriage. It might be the only one of the two he had left at the moment.

Hell, if he lost Nikki, nothing else would matter.


Dear Reader,

Sometimes the old saying “Blood is thicker than water” doesn’t hold true. I have friends who are closer to me and who know me better than many of my blood relatives. There’s another old saying—“You can pick your friends, but not your family.” Again, not always true. Many children are chosen to be part of a family through adoption.

When the hero and heroine of this book, Nikki and Cody Somers, discover they cannot have a child of their own by traditional means, they turn to in vitro fertilization and surrogacy. But a tragic accident changes their plans.

As so often happens, Nikki and Cody find themselves journeying down an unexpected path. And when a special boy enters the picture, they must take a step back and explore the true meaning of family.

I invite you to take the journey with Nikki and Cody, and see that in today’s world, where there is often so much darkness, there is a ray of light, as well. We just have to be willing to look for it.

I love hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at BrendaMott@hotmail.com. Please reference the book title in the subject line. Or stop by my author’s page at the Smoky Mountain Romance Writer Web site at smrw.org.

Happy reading!

Brenda Mott




The Chosen Child

Brenda Mott





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is dedicated to Sam and her lost boys. And also to the women who are my sisters, if not by blood, then of the heart: Wanda Barnes, D’Ann Linscott-Dunham, Judy Meister, Jennifer Niles, Kayla Perrin, Janet Swanson, Joanne Ward (“Sissy”) and Brenda Williams. I love you all.


With special acknowledgment to retired 911 operator Barb Dimich, The Silt, Colorado and Rifle, Colorado Police Departments, and MADD—Mothers Against Drunk Driving. Any errors in this work of fiction are my own.




CONTENTS


PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN




PROLOGUE


THE GLASS DOORS of the hospital emergency room slid open with a mechanical hiss, throwing Nikki Somers into a world tipped off its axis. Bright light and the sterile odors of medicine and cleaning solutions enveloped her, pitching her stomach into a nervous roll.

Faces, voices, blurred around her as she bypassed the busy front desk receptionist to find someone with answers. “Excuse me!” Hands shaking, Nikki waved down a woman in a nurse’s uniform. “You contacted me. My sister—Amanda Kelly—was brought in by Flight For Life. She was in an accident. I need to find her—now. Please.” The words poured out, nearly choking her. She felt as if she’d been dropped into some strange netherworld, and her real life was back there, somewhere outside the hospital doors.

Eyes filled with sympathy, the nurse met Nikki’s gaze. “Your sister is in surgery.”

Nikki’s heart nearly leapt from her chest. “Surgery! My God, how bad is she? What about the baby?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the details, ma’am. The doctor will talk to you after Ms. Kelly is taken to recovery. There’s a waiting room upstairs, third floor. Take the elevator—” she pointed “—and follow the yellow line.”

“Isn’t there anything you can tell me?” Nikki persisted. “Anything I can do?”

The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’ll need to wait for Doctor Smith.”

“Thank you.” Nikki could barely bring herself to utter the words. She didn’t want to wait. She rushed to the elevator and pressed the Up arrow.

Please, God, no. Not my sister…and not the baby.

The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. Nikki stepped inside. In what felt like slow motion, the car ascended to the third floor, where a lemon-colored line painted on the polished linoleum pointed the way to the waiting room. Nikki followed it, feeling as though she were on an alternate yellow brick road—one that led to nightmares.

The waiting room seemed small and close. She avoided eye contact with the four people who sat around the perimeter of the room. She had no interest in speaking to them, trading horror stories about why a group of strangers had been brought together in this room. Yet she couldn’t help but steal a glance in their direction.

In the far corner, a middle-aged woman sat with her coat unbuttoned, her dark hair pulled into a flawless bun. Beside her, a young man stared unseeingly at the television centered on one wall. The woman’s pantsuit looked designer, her nails professionally manicured, her makeup perfect. Nikki saw that she’d been crying and looked away as she sat, perched on the edge of one of the mustard chairs.

But she couldn’t block the whispers of the man and woman who commiserated with the elegantly dressed lady. She caught the words drunk driver and hit-and-run. And the fact that someone named Caitlin now hovered at death’s door. The dark-haired woman’s next words brought Nikki’s head up with a snap.

“The other woman was pregnant.”

And the man. “Dear Lord.”

My God. They were here because of the same accident Amanda had been in. She didn’t want to share this common bond with them, though she prayed their loved one—Caitlin—would live. Instead, she willed this all to go away and not be real, and for Amanda and the baby to be safe…alive.

The woman had said was pregnant. Surely she’d meant is. Nikki felt faint, but before she could address the woman, the door to the waiting area opened.

“Mrs. Somers?” Nikki turned toward the doctor as he entered the room.

“Yes.” Quickly, she rose to her feet and hurried to him.

“I’m Doctor Smith.” He held out his hand, and Nikki shook it reflexively. “Your sister is in recovery. You can see her in a little while, once she’s been taken to her room.” He pressed his lips together, looking grim. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good. Ms. Kelly suffered a placental abruption as a result of the impact from the accident. I understand her Blazer rolled into the ravine.”

Nikki’s throat constricted. “And the baby?”

“She lost the baby. I’m so very sorry.” He gently squeezed her shoulder, then went on to describe the extent of Amanda’s injuries—a concussion, cracked ribs…she’d required blood transfusions. She had yet to learn that the baby had died.

Nikki could only stare at the man, one hand over her mouth. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, wishing Cody were here instead of on duty some seventy miles away. When the hospital had phoned to say Amanda had been in an accident, she hadn’t even taken time to call the Deer Creek police station. The Colorado State Highway Patrol had responded to the accident, which meant Cody didn’t know. She needed to call him.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Somers?” Doctor Smith’s words barely penetrated the fog shrouding her mind.

She managed a nod. “I just want to see my sister.”

“Well, like I said, it’ll be a little while yet.” He gestured toward the phone on the wall. “That’s an in-house line. A nurse will call you with your sister’s room number once she’s been transferred from recovery. I’ll be dropping in later to talk to her as well.” He looked as if he didn’t know what else to say, as if he’d like to move on to his next duty, his next patient. The smartly dressed woman had risen to her feet as soon as Doctor Smith entered the room, and she now moved forward, questions of her own at the ready. He started to turn toward her.

“Doctor.” Nikki laid her hand on his arm. “Was the baby a girl?” The ultrasound had indicated it was.

His eyes softened with genuine sympathy. “Yes. Again, I’m so very sorry for your sister’s loss.”

Nikki mumbled a thank-you, but for what, she wasn’t sure. She amended the thought, thanking God that Amanda was alive.

An eternity later, the wall phone rang and Nikki hurried to pick it up. She listened as the nurse gave directions to Amanda’s room. Once more, she followed the yellow line to where her sister lay on sterile white sheets, her blond hair spread across the pillow, eyes closed. Fighting back tears, Nikki moved up beside the bed. Amanda’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Amanda.” Nikki reached for her hand.

“Nikki?” The fear in Amanda’s voice devastated her, and it was all she could do to stand. She couldn’t speak to answer the question in Amanda’s eyes. All she could do was shake her head.

Amanda’s wail tore her apart, and Nikki’s emotions whirled in confusion. Relief at knowing Amanda would live mixed with sorrow at seeing her sister in pain. At the same time, the sickening loss in knowing the baby had not made it continued to grip her.

Not Amanda’s baby, as the doctor had assumed. Amanda had been a surrogate mother.

Nikki squeezed her eyes shut and wished she could melt into nothing.

Wished with all her heart that she could slip into a dark, quiet place where there was no pain.

Where her little girl was not dead.




CHAPTER ONE


NIKKI STRUGGLED to control her anger as she looked at her husband. “Vengeance won’t bring Anna back.” In the four months since the accident, they’d made little progress in working through their grief, moving past the loss of their baby girl. And Cody’s attitude wasn’t helping.

His dark blue eyes held hers. “Maybe not. But I still intend to find the son of a bitch who killed our daughter.” He rose from his chair and walked out of the room.

Embarrassed, Nikki sighed, leaned back in her chair and faced Regina Jeffries. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Cody needs to work out his feelings in his own way.” She studied Nikki with her expressive eyes. “Obviously, revenge against the hit-and-run driver responsible for your sister’s accident is not your first concern.”

“No, that’s just it.” Nikki shook her head, the heated words she and Cody had exchanged ringing in her mind, giving her a headache.

Why are you so hell-bent on finding the guy, Cody? Let the State Highway Patrol and the sheriff’s office do their jobs.

It’s not that simple, Nikki. I wish you’d try to understand.

“Let’s talk about what you think is more important.” Regina glanced at her watch. “We’ve still got fifteen minutes left.”

Nikki shook her head. “I think I’d better go after Cody.” She stood and gave Regina a small smile. “Thanks. Hopefully we’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll be here.”

Outside the three-story brick building of Colorado Family Counseling Services, Nikki paused. Cody wasn’t in their truck, parked at the curb. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. Where had he gone? Her patience wearing thin, Nikki craned her neck, looking up and down the few blocks that made up Main Street in their little mountain town of Deer Creek. Through the plateglass window of Pearl’s Diner she caught sight of him, sulking over a cup of coffee. Head bent so that his black cowboy hat partially hid his face, he reminded her more of a pouting teenager than a thirty-one-year-old man. Half tempted to get in the pickup and drive away without him, Nikki instead took a deep breath and strode across the street. The bell on the door tinkled as she entered.

Cody didn’t look up when she slid into the booth across from him, and she waited until the waitress left with her order for coffee and a doughnut before she spoke, keeping her voice low. “Care to tell me what that was all about?”

He stared into his coffee. “I’m tired, Nikki. That’s all.”

“Maybe you should try coming to bed at night then, instead of falling asleep in front of the television.” She knew he purposely did that to avoid sleeping with her.

He looked up. “I’m tired of fighting with you.”

“I thought that was the purpose of counseling. To sort things out instead of arguing.” She hated what Anna’s death had done to their already shaky marriage. Their relationship had been tested by the injustice of three miscarriages in two years, and now they’d lost Anna. “How can we do that if you walk out in the middle of our session?”

“Do we have to do this here?” He indicated the room full of patrons enjoying Pearl’s down-home cooking and conversation with friends and neighbors.

“No, we don’t.” Nikki stood. “You know what, Cody? I’m just as tired as you are. I’ll see you at home.”

She turned and nearly collided with the waitress who’d brought the coffee and doughnut she’d ordered. Nikki eyed the huge, chocolate-glazed pastry, anticipating the comfort she knew she’d find in curling up with the treat in a quiet corner of her bedroom. “Can I get that to go, Sherry? Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble.” Sherry smiled and darted back around the counter.

Cody was at Nikki’s elbow before she reached the cash register.

“We drove here together,” he reminded her.

“I thought I’d go see Jana.” Nikki’s longtime friend owned the bookstore down the street. “She can give me a ride home on her noon break. It’s my turn to buy her lunch anyway.”

“Fine.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line and slapped money down on the counter to pay for their order. “See you later.” He shot out the door and drove away in the Chevy.

Take-out bag in hand, Nikki headed down the block.

An hour and a half later, Jana drove her home, pulling up the long driveway of the sixty-acre ranch. Not even the welcome sight of the horses grazing in the sun was enough to lift Nikki’s spirits. She climbed from Jana’s car, palms sweating at the thought of picking up where she and Cody had left off. Both the truck and Cody’s squad car were parked in front of the garage, today being his day off.

“You’ll call if you need me?” Jana’s voice drew her from her thoughts.

“Of course.” Nikki lifted her hand in a wave. “Thanks again.”

“You bet.”

Inside, she found Cody in the kitchen. He’d made a sandwich, but had left it half-eaten. She sat at the table near his elbow. “What’s happening to us?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

Silence gripped the room. “We need to find a way to get past this,” Nikki said. “How can we do that if you’re not willing to try?”

There were sorrow and hurt in the look he gave her. “I am trying, Nikki. But you don’t seem to understand that. You think going to town once a week to spill our guts to some stranger is going to make everything right. But it won’t.”

“And neither will your obsession with finding the drunk driver.” Nikki struggled to contain her temper. “Cody, I want to see justice for Anna, too. I want the jerk who ruined our lives to pay.” She leaned toward him, and laid her hand on his wrist. “But if you let revenge consume you, we’ll never be able to move on with our lives.”

He pulled away from her and stood. Raking his hands through his dark hair, he began to pace. “I’m a cop. It’s my duty to uphold the law.”

“You’re too close. Let the Highway Patrol and the sheriff handle this.”

Cody stopped pacing. “You do what you need to do to cope with Anna’s death. Why can’t you leave me to do what I need to?”

She leaned back in her chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your hair. Your clothes.” He shook his head. “I’ve known you since high school, and this—” he indicated her bright pink jeans, lacy blouse and pink cowboy boots “—is not you.”

Stung, Nikki’s jaw dropped. “I thought you liked my new look.” She fiddled with a strand of her recently dyed-blond, shoulder-length cut. “And what’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing is wrong with the clothes, Nikki.” Heaving a sigh, Cody sat down again and stared at her. “They’re just not you. The colors, your makeup, none of it is you. Even Regina noticed the changes.”

“Yes, but she said they were good changes.” Defensively, Nikki folded her arms, suddenly conscious of her extra weight. She’d eaten her way through her depression, until she’d gone from the severe weight-loss she’d suffered since Anna’s death, to being ten pounds past her normal body size. But food gave her comfort. Something she hadn’t found anyplace else lately.

“Exactly my point.” Cody looked at her as if she were dense. “You cope your way, now let me cope in mine.”

“So, what you’re saying is that once you’ve tracked down the hit-and-run driver and put him away, things will be A-OK again? Everything will just go back to normal?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “And women say men don’t listen.”

“I’m listening, Cody. You’re the one who’s not.” Tears burned her eyes, and her throat tightened as she struggled not to cry. “I’ve found a healthy outlet for my feelings. Revenge isn’t healthy. You’ve got to find a better way than that to move past our little girl’s death. Regina can help us get back on track and work through this together.”

“I’m not so sure that’s the answer.” The look in his eyes chilled her.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent a moment before he answered. “I’ve been thinking about moving in with Jordan for a while. I need some time and space.”

Fear gripped her. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

Nikki fought to control her panic. She’d never been one to let emotions overrule good judgment. “Please don’t.”

“I’m not giving up, I just…” He let the sentence trail away. A fly landed on his discarded sandwich and he flicked it away, scowling. “I’m just taking a step back, Nikki. I think it’s best.”

Best. Not the word she’d use to describe what he proposed. “Please, Cody, just…wait.” God, if he moved out there might be no turning back.

“Wait for what?”

For us. For whatever it took to stop this hell they’d lived in for the past four months. She took a deep breath. “When I talked to Amanda on the phone last week, she asked me to come to Tennessee for a visit.” The accident had left Amanda unable to cope with her job as an RN in the maternity ward of the local hospital, or with anything else for that matter, including the tension between the three of them. She’d fled Colorado and now lived in the hills of Tennessee, in the cabin where their granny had taken care of them for the better part of their childhood. “I’ve been thinking I might take her up on her offer. I had planned to talk to you about it today, after our session with Regina.”

Now it was Cody’s turn to look apprehensive. “You’re going to fly out there?”

She shook her head. “Drive.”

His eyes widened. “Nikki, it’s fifteen hundred miles to Boone’s Crossing.”

“I know. That’s why I want to drive. It’ll give me some time to think.” She stared at the tabletop. “If I leave in the morning, I can be there by Saturday. I don’t want Amanda to face Sunday by herself.” She felt his gaze on her, and out of the corner of her eye, recognized the set of his jaw.

Sunday, June twentieth, would’ve been Amanda’s due date.

Cody would talk about little else besides his need for revenge. He had yet to open up and talk to her about their baby girl.

“Amanda’s been through hell,” he said quietly. “And you need to be with her, too.”

It hurt Nikki to admit that she couldn’t let herself lean on him. She nodded. “And when I come back, you and I can decide what our next step should be.”

“How long will you be gone?”

Her job as a kindergarten teacher left her with the summer months off, school having let out last month, the end of May. “I don’t know. Two weeks, maybe three?”

Cody’s jaw muscles tightened and she knew he wasn’t happy with the idea. “I really hate for you to be out on the highway alone like that. Especially after…” His words trailed away, but she knew what he’d been about to say.

After what had happened to Amanda.

“I’ll be fine, Cody. I’ll take my cell phone and check in with you.”

“Sounds like your mind’s made up.”

“It is.” She hadn’t fully realized it until now. But maybe this was best. Time apart might give them both a chance to cool down. Maybe when she got back home, Cody would be more willing to talk.

And less willing to simply give up and move out.

“All right.” Cody turned his hands palm up in a gesture of resignation.

“Will you wait until I get back to discuss moving in with Jordan?” Her heart raced, and she held her breath.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll wait.”

“Okay then.” She got up from the table. “Guess I’d better start packing.”

Nikki headed for the bedroom, half hoping Cody would call out for her not to go. To instead stay with him.

But he said nothing as she left the room.

THE DRONE of the dispatcher’s radio faded into the background as Cody tried to focus on the paperwork at hand, a task he normally hated. But he didn’t want to go home.

Nikki had been gone only two days, and already it felt like forever. He hated the emptiness of their house without her. It felt as if his life had suddenly veered south to hell the minute she’d driven away. One minute he’d had it all, right down to the proverbial white picket fence and family dog—if you could call a retired police dog with an attitude proverbial. And now he sat looking for excuses not to go home.

He scooted his chair closer to his desk and bent over it a little more intently. But his thoughts circled back to Nikki.

He’d called her on her cell phone so many times he’d lost count and had been relieved to know she’d made it to Boone’s Crossing safely. But when he’d hung up after their last conversation, he’d felt alone and empty, as though a lifeline to her had been broken.

He hoped her visit to Amanda would help Nikki. She felt so much guilt for having asked her sister to act as a surrogate in the first place.

And he knew he needed to call Amanda himself to apologize for the horrible things he’d said to her before she’d left Colorado, running from demons of her own.

How could you be so stupid, Amanda? So irresponsible. Stopping on a dark highway like that, for God’s sake!

He hadn’t meant it. In the pain of losing his baby girl, he’d lashed out at everyone. The fact that Amanda had pulled over to offer her cell phone to Caitlin Kramer—stranded on the side of a mountain highway with a flat tire—was typical of Amanda’s generous and caring nature. She couldn’t have known what would happen. Dear Lord, it had taken him longer than it should have to realize the depth of Amanda’s suffering. Baby Anna had been hers as much as she’d been his and Nikki’s.

The thought instantly caused Cody’s self-imposed safety mechanism to kick in, the one that kicked in every time his thoughts veered too close to little Anna. The hurt was still too great, too fresh. Instead, he tunneled all his energy, his grief, into revenge. He’d find the scumbag responsible for tearing apart his family if it was the last thing he did, and see to it that the guy went to prison.

“Man, now I know you’re desperate.”

Cody looked up at the sound of his partner’s voice. Jordan Blake had been with the Deer Creek PD a year longer than Cody, his tenth anniversary around the corner. A beefy man with a deep voice, Jordan had a way of putting the fear of God into a suspect with nothing more than a sharp word or two. He’d cover your back with his life, and Cody couldn’t think of anyone he considered a better friend.

“Yeah, well, it beats going home to my remote control and a cranky police dog that only understands German.” The dog had been trained in non-English commands so that a perp couldn’t distract him.

Jordan perched on the corner of Cody’s desk, his dark eyes sober. “You know the invitation to stay at my place is still open. You can even bring Max. I think I’ve finally figured out what kind of dog biscuits he really likes.”

Cody laughed, then shook his head. “That I doubt, but thanks.”

Jordan sat there a minute, as though fishing for something more to say. Apparently, he came up empty. “I’m out of here,” he said, standing. He gave Cody’s shoulder an affectionate cuff. “Don’t stay too long, cowboy. Go home and take a ride. You know what they say…nothing better for the inside of a man than the outside of a horse.”

Cody nodded. “I might just do that.” The horses could always use a workout, and riding usually helped clear his head and bring things into perspective. Only this time, he was afraid there were no answers.

A short time later, he made his way to the parking lot. The sun beat down on the blacktop, the evening temperature still hovering high enough to make him glad his squad car had air-conditioning. He strode toward where it was parked off to one side of the building. And did a double take.

A boy who looked to be perhaps ten or eleven crouched in front of the car, a can of spray paint clutched in his hand, and as Cody watched, he reached up to finish the job he’d already started. Red initials—DH—big enough to read even from this distance, spread across the hood of Cody’s squad car as the kid’s finger depressed the button on the paint can.

“Hey!” Cody sprang forward. “What the hell are you doing!”

The boy’s eyes widened as he cast a hurried look over his shoulder. Then he ran. Thin as a whip, he wasn’t very tall, but the kid could move. He sprinted from the parking lot and into a field of unmowed grass behind the police station. The mountainous, rural area that surrounded Deer Creek offered plenty of places for a boy to hide. If Cody didn’t catch the kid quickly, he’d be out of sight and long gone.

The boy sped on like a downhill train. He ditched the paint can in a clump of bushes and vaulted over a six-foot chain-link fence at the end of the field as if it were nothing. Berating himself for spending a lot less time at the gym lately than he should have, Cody kept after him. He clambered over the fence but, as he hit the ground, the toe of his shoe caught in a tangle of deep grass, and down he went.

His knee slammed into a rock hard enough to bring a string of creative curses to his lips. With a grunt, Cody scrambled to his feet, feeling like an idiot, hoping the kid hadn’t seen him fall. Even madder than he’d been moments before, he took off again, trying to ignore the fresh shot of pain through his knee. Great. He gave chase as the boy zigzagged through the quiet neighborhood, down a side street.

“I’m warning you, halt!” Cody shouted. Or what? He couldn’t exactly draw his gun on a kid who’d been armed with nothing more than an aerosol can. The boy cast a glance back at him, but made no move to slow down. He wore baggy jeans that exposed colorful boxer shorts, and Cody couldn’t see how he could possibly run without his pants falling around his ankles. Shaggy hair stuck out from under a black ballcap, bill tilted at an angle, and a yellow basketball jersey with the number twelve bunched above his skinny hips.

Cody swerved, taking a shortcut across the front lawn of Old Man Parker’s place—a retired Navy admiral well-known for his dislike of children. The kid was already headed toward the backyard, ready to rocket over the fence, where he could cut across the alley and likely lose Cody by ducking through the next yard, then on into the sagebrush of the surrounding countryside. Cody’s heart flew to his throat, knowing what was on the other side of Parker’s fence.

Luckily, the enormous Doberman pinscher hit the chain-link before the boy did. Teeth bared, the dog barked in a way that said he meant business. The boy skidded to a halt and turned to run the other way, too late. Cody caught him by the arm and spun him around. “Hold it right there!” Fuming, out of breath, he glared at the child.

For a moment, Cody saw fear flicker behind the boy’s brown eyes, but then it was gone, replaced by defiance. The kid squirmed in his grasp. “Let go of me, man.”

“What the hell were you doing—spray-painting my squad car?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Breathing rapidly, the boy shrugged from Cody’s grasp and tried to bolt again.

Cody caught hold of him, simultaneously reaching for his handcuffs. “Oh, really? I suppose that red paint on your hands got there by itself.” He snapped the cuffs on the kid’s scrawny wrists.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing, dude?” The kid squirmed and twisted, tossing a fiery look of resentment over his shoulder.

“That’s Officer Somers to you, and I’m placing you under arrest.”

Panic snaked across the boy’s features before hiding behind a defiant mask once more. “You can’t arrest me. I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Tell it to the judge.” With a not-so-gentle push, Cody set the boy walking, back toward the station.

The kid cursed loudly and vehemently.

From the yard, Parker’s Dobie barked with renewed fervor, and the old man jerked his door open to see what the commotion was about. “Everything’s under control, Admiral Parker,” Cody said. He hurried the kid away before Parker could utter a word. Given the choice between facing the dog or facing the old man, Cody would’ve chosen the Doberman.

Limping along, he sighed, still holding on to the boy, whose face looked vaguely familiar. “What’s your name, son?”

“I ain’t your son,” the kid spat, “and I don’t have to tell you a damned thing.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Cody quipped. “If I had a kid like you…” If he had a kid like this boy, he’d be so grateful for a child of his own, it wouldn’t matter what sort of discipline problems arose.

The boy, looking younger and more frightened by the minute, set his jaw and scowled. “Damned dog.”

“Yeah—a damned good dog. Thor lets Parker know when somebody’s up to no good—like when someone spray-painted the side of his garage last week. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“No.” The boy smirked. “I could’ve outrun you, if it weren’t for that stupid dog.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He hated to admit the kid was probably right. His knee felt as though someone had wedged a grapefruit beneath his skin.

“Maybe you oughta lay off the doughnuts.”

Cody’s already stretched temper snapped. “And maybe you ought to lay off with the smart mouth.”

The kid glared at him, and suddenly Cody remembered where he’d seen him before. He’d been in Nikki’s kindergarten class a few years ago. Dustin Holbrook. Child of an alcoholic mother and a father who’d left shortly after the boy was born, Dustin had been in the foster care system for the better part of his life. Cody hadn’t seen him in a year or two, but if memory served him right, Dustin was eleven. Naturally, he’d grown and changed as he neared puberty. But when Cody looked for it, he could still see the face of the little boy Nikki had taught and cared so much about.

Dustin’s slight build made Cody feel like a big bully, shoving him along down the street. But the kid refused to walk under his own steam. “You know,” Cody continued, shooting Dustin a smirk of his own, “you might want to be thinking about what your foster parents are going to say when I call them.”

“How do you know—” Dustin began, then clamped his mouth shut.

“That you’re in foster care?” Cody gave him a piercing stare. “I know a lot of things, including your name, Dustin.”

Dustin scuffed his toe against the ground as they walked. “Big deal. My foster parents will ground me for a couple of days, maybe take away my video games. Who cares?”

“You’ve got a lot more to worry about than having your video game privileges revoked.”

“What do you mean?” Dustin tried to hide behind his air of bravado, but he looked worried.

“You’re going to juvie.”




CHAPTER TWO


NIKKI TURNED INTO the driveway, with mixed emotions at being home. The three weeks she’d been gone had felt like an eternity. Her pulse picked up speed as she parked in front of the garage. Cody’s squad car was in the driveway. She hadn’t talked to him for a couple of days. The fact that he had kept in touch with her on the drive to and from Tennessee showed he still cared. Yet her stomach churned at the thought of walking through the front door to face him. She wondered if he’d made up his mind about moving in with Jordan.

“One way to find out,” Nikki mumbled. She climbed from behind the wheel of her Saturn and retrieved her luggage from the trunk. Suitcases in hand, she strode up the front walk, frowning. She’d thought Cody would at least come outside when he heard her pull in. It wasn’t like him not to help her with her luggage. The house was quiet and empty when she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Not even Max came to greet her. Which meant one thing. Cody was out on a ride. He often took off for hours on one of the horses when something was on his mind.

Nikki carried her suitcases upstairs to their room. Ignoring how empty it seemed without him, she began to unpack. She couldn’t stand to leave things in a mess when she traveled. Had to unpack right away, before she could allow herself to relax.

As she sorted through her clothes, hanging the clean, tossing the dirty into a pile to be toted to the bathroom hamper, Nikki glanced out the second-story window of the ranch house. It offered a view of the mountains, which encircled the one-hundred-year-old house like a lover’s embrace. For as far as the eye could see, the lush, gold-green pasture stretched out behind the ranch, rising to meet public BLM land beyond. There the grass gave way to sagebrush, and the ground grew rocky as flat became hills and hills became mountains. Aspen and blue spruce dotted the distance with color, and somewhere out there Nikki imagined her husband rode, lost in thoughts of his own.

On an impulse, she abandoned her unpacking. No matter what their differences, she’d missed Cody, and she didn’t want to wait one more minute to see him. She’d stalled, putting off the return home for far too long. Whatever their marriage had come to, she needed to stop running from it. She traded her shorts and blouse for jeans and a T-shirt, her sandals for socks and cowboy boots.

Minutes later, she made her way to the eight-stall barn, white with blue trim, that stood behind the house. Armed with a halter, lead rope and a handful of treats, she exited a stall through one of the connecting paddocks and walked out into the pasture. A shrill whistle snagged the attention of the four horses in the distance. Always game for a treat, they raised their heads and cast a hopeful look in her direction. “Come on!” Nikki called. “I’ve got cookies. Come on Cheyenne! Dancer!” She took a step toward them, noting that Cody’s gelding, Raven, was not in the group. Her movement was all the encouragement the horses needed. They trotted briskly toward her, then broke into a lope. She smiled, loving the way their muscles rippled beneath their well-groomed coats. There was nothing more beautiful than a quarter horse in motion.

She cooed to them as they gathered around, nudging and nuzzling her for their treats. She handed out the oversized alfalfa pellets, then slipped the nylon halter on her favorite mare, Cheyenne. The palomino lowered her head willingly into the noseband, and Nikki buckled the blue halter into place, then led her back toward the barn. The other horses tagged along, hopeful for more treats, and she laughingly commanded them back so she could open the paddock gate and slip through with Cheyenne.

A short time later, she had the mare saddled. After leading her from the barn, Nikki rechecked the cinch, then swung aboard. She sighed in pleasure at the familiar creak and scent of the leather beneath her, and relished the movement of the powerful golden horse as Cheyenne moved out at a smart walk. Nikki guided her to the trail that led away from the ranch through the hills, glancing at the ground. The pattern of shod hoof marks in the dirt told her Cody had been doing a lot of riding lately.

Clucking to the palomino, Nikki set off at a lope and was soon rewarded with the sight of a black horse in the distance, trailed by a large German shepherd. Her pulse quickened at the sight of Cody in his cowboy gear. She loved the way he looked when he dressed in his Wranglers, western shirt, boots and cowboy hat. The getup did even more for her than his police uniform, though he looked sexy in that, too.

A little tug of sadness pulled at her. It would take far more than physical attraction to save their marriage. No matter how strong. She let Cheyenne stretch into a gallop, closing the distance between her and Raven, not slowing to a lope again until Cody turned in the saddle and spotted them.

The look on his face as she drew close was enough to melt Nikki’s resolve to take things slow and easy. Clearly, he’d missed her every bit as much as she’d missed him.

Max gave a welcoming bark, and Raven whinnied a greeting to Cheyenne. Cody swung the gelding around to face Nikki, and her mouth went dry.

“You’re back.” His eyes feasted on her. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

“I left Nashville a little sooner than I’d expected.” On the way home from Amanda’s, Nikki had stopped off in the Music City to see the sights. Or so she’d told herself. Truthfully, she’d been afraid. Afraid to go home and find out things were really over between her and Cody. So she’d stalled, which had turned out to be a good thing, since Amanda had joined her in Nashville with good news. News she would share with Cody later, though she wasn’t sure how he’d take it. That’s why she had cut her sightseeing side trip short.

“I’m glad you did.” He urged Raven up beside her, and she could tell he was about to do what he’d so often done, what came so naturally when the two of them rode together. Lean from his saddle and kiss her.

She braced herself. It had been a while since they’d shared more than a casual parting kiss. As a matter of fact, the farewell kiss Cody had given her when she’d left for Tennessee had been a long time coming. But as she was anticipating his lips on hers, Cody stopped, pulling the black horse up short.

His expression sobered. “I’m also glad you rode out here.” The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, put her on edge. “I have something to show you.”

With that, he swung Raven around, and Nikki urged Cheyenne into a trot, following along after him. She felt disappointed and irritated. He hadn’t even asked her how her trip had been or how Amanda was. Hadn’t welcomed her home. But then, what had she expected? That three weeks apart would automatically solve their problems? That he would welcome her with open arms and everything would be the same as it used to be before the accident?

Cody glanced over at her as the horses settled into a brisk walk side by side. “How was your trip?”

“It was good.” Nikki’s heart pounded. Should she tell him now?

He pursed his lips in a thin line, focusing on the trail ahead. “I meant to call so I could talk to Amanda. I owe her an apology.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But I guess I’d better tell you her good news first.”

“Yeah?” He watched her expectantly.

“Amanda’s seeing a really wonderful man. His name’s Ian Bonner. They’re engaged.”

“That’s great. I’m happy for her.”

“That’s not all, Cody.” She took a deep breath. “She’s pregnant.”

His head turned so fast, Nikki heard his neck pop. His expression shifted from shocked surprise to something she couldn’t quite read before he adopted the neutral mask he’d worn so often lately. A mask she hated worse than his anger and hurt.

“That is good news,” he said. “Good for her, anyway.”

Nikki scowled at him. “Well, I’m happy for her.”

For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to answer. He reached down and absently flicked a wayward strand of Raven’s mane onto the right side of the gelding’s neck where it belonged. “I can’t say that I’m not,” he said, his voice low and husky. “But you’re going to have to give me some time to let it sink in.”

The fact that Amanda could have what they couldn’t obviously bothered him.

“How can you possibly begrudge her a child of her own after what she sacrificed, what she went through for us?”

“I don’t. I just wish…forget it.”

“No, what were you going to say?”

The sorrow she saw in his eyes immediately washed away the resentment she’d felt moments before. “I just wish Anna hadn’t died.”

Familiar pain laced through her. “Me, too. But we’ve got to get past this somehow. We’ve got to get on with our lives.” She guided Cheyenne around a dip in the trail, her movements automatic. “Cody, we’ve got to start with us.”

“I know. I’ve done nothing but think about us while you’ve been gone. And I believe I’ve come up with a compromise.”

Her hands felt like ice. “Are you moving in with Jordan?”

“No.” He shook his head. At that moment they rounded a bend in the trail, and Nikki knew exactly what he had in mind.

A three-room, white frame house stood butted up against the rock face in front of them. In days past, when their place had been a larger working ranch, it had served as a bunkhouse and later as a home for the many live-in hired hands that came and went. But over time, they had left it abandoned and empty, except for some ancient pieces of furniture and the cobwebs the spiders had taken to spinning in the undisturbed corners.

Only from the look of things, there were no longer cobwebs in the house.

The cozy building bore a new coat of paint, and the broken-down steps of the porch had been recently repaired. Two chairs sat side by side near the front door, facing the panoramic view beyond. And through the curtainless front windows, Nikki could see the inside of the little house had been cleaned and painted as well.

She sat frozen in the saddle, her hands and legs numb. Her mind raced. “What have you done?” she asked, feeling betrayed. That he would fix up the bunkhouse—and so quickly—meant only one thing. “How on earth did you manage all this…?”

“I’ve had some help,” Cody said, “which I’ll tell you about later. What do you think?”

“It looks great.” Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he had something else in mind. “Why did you do it?”

“I’m going to move in here,” he said quietly.

She sat her horse in silence, not sure what to say. A temporary stay in the bunkhouse would’ve required cleaning the place up, even repairing the broken steps. But the new paint, the yard cleared of brush and rock…it all looked too permanent. Too much as though Cody meant to stay here, on the ranch that had been in his family for three generations. But away from the home they’d known together—away from their bed—for good.

“Do you want to go inside and see it?”

Nikki blinked and tried to focus on Cody’s question. Tried not to let her emotions show. She gave a casual lift of her shoulders. “Sure.”

Telling herself to stay calm, that she could handle this, she swung down off Cheyenne’s back. The old hitching rail in front of the house had also been replaced, and she looped her reins around it before preceding Cody up the steps.

His boot heels clipped against the porch’s wooden surface as he moved past her to hold open the door. The scent of fresh paint greeted her as she stepped inside and looked around. Arms crossed, Nikki turned to face him. “It looks great. You got a lot accomplished in a short time.”

If he noticed the apprehension in her voice, he gave no indication. “Like I said, I had some help.”

“Jordan?”

“Some. But mostly I had a kid helping me. One of the boys I’m supervising during his community service.”

She raised a brow. “The judge assigned him community service on our ranch?”

“No, but his foster parents did.”

“Who is he?”

“Dustin Holbrook. He was in your class—what—five years ago?”

Her jaw dropped. “Dusty?” She remembered a bright, shy, little boy with brown eyes and chestnut hair. A boy whose mother and stepfather had gone through a divorce the year he was in her kindergarten class. She’d heard whispered rumors around the school of the parents’ alcohol and drug addiction. “My God, I haven’t seen him in ages. What did he do?”

Cody’s mouth quirked. “Painted his initials on the hood of my squad car.”

“What? I didn’t see…” She gestured over her shoulder in the direction of the house, where his squad car was parked. “How did I miss that?”

“It just came back from the body shop.”

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to do that. What on earth possessed him?”

“Gang initiation.”

“In Deer Creek?” She wasn’t naive, and their little town was by no means immune to crime, but it usually came in the form of domestic disputes…and drunk driving.

Nikki cringed inwardly and refocused on her conversation with Cody.

“Apparently Dustin and two of his pals decided to form a ‘gang.’ They thought spray-painting their initials on a cop car would be a good way to get ‘jumped in.’” He shook his head. “They have no idea what the term even means.”

Nikki shuddered, thinking of the things cops in bigger cities had to deal with. Things like kids as young as Dustin being jumped in to gangs through initiation beatings and worse.

“So, his friends painted a squad car, too?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, and the sound sent a pleasant shiver up her spine. It had been a while since she and Cody had laughed together. “The trouble Dustin got into with me and his foster parents was enough to make his pals change their minds. He cooled his heels in juvie for a couple of days, then the judge assigned him forty hours of community service. I’ve had him pulling weeds and mowing the grass around the station, the senior housing units and the park. But his foster parents—Frank and Sylvia Thompson—have been harder on him than I’ve been.

“Dustin’s been getting into quite a bit of mischief lately, though he hasn’t broken any laws, until now. Or at least, none that we know of. They’re fed up with his nonsense. Asked me to keep him busy here on the ranch, too. So I have.” He gestured at the walls around them, bringing Nikki’s focus back to the reality of her and Cody’s circumstances.

She looked through the doorway that divided the living area and kitchen from the bedroom and bath. Cody’s clothes hung from pegs on the walls, and she saw several personal belongings on top of a small chest of drawers squeezed into one corner between the window and the foot of the bed. Her throat constricted, and she fought back the hurt. “So, are you already sleeping here?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I figured I’d wait until you got back.”

Nikki plastered a humorless smile on her face and lifted her hands. “Well, I’m home. So I guess that means you’ll be sleeping here tonight.” She spun on her heel and left the room.

“Nikki.” Cody followed her, but she was already halfway across the room, halfway to her horse before he could close the door and catch up to her. She gathered Cheyenne’s reins, swung into the saddle and faced him. “What did you expect?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She tried to sit up straighter in the saddle. To cowboy up. “I guess I knew this was coming…well, not this specifically, but that you might move out.”

“I thought it would be better this way.” Cody shrugged and leaned against a newel post, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Damn but he looked tempting standing there, hip cocked, black cowboy hat shadowing his face. He looked like a man who belonged here.

Nikki felt like the outcast, a stranger. Maybe she should be the one leaving.

It was going to be a long, hard summer.

“Sure.” She gave Cody a tight smile. “It’ll be better this way.” She lifted the reins and backed Cheyenne away from the hitching post. “I’ve got to finish unpacking. I’ll see you later.”

She spun the mare around and galloped down the trail toward the barn.




CHAPTER THREE


CODY WATCHED NIKKI ride away, his heart heavy. He wanted to go after her, sit her down and make things right between them. But he didn’t exactly know how to go about doing that.

He shook off the thought. Nikki needed a little time to let it sink in. Lord knew, it hadn’t yet sunk in for him—that they would actually be living apart. Sure, he was still on the ranch, but the acreage separating him from Nikki felt like the Grand Canyon. Still, he needed to focus on work and his search for Anna’s killer.

Not expecting Nikki to be home until tomorrow, he’d made arrangements for Dustin’s foster parents to bring him to the ranch this morning. Cody had a long row of fencing that needed to be repaired and replaced, and he figured it would keep Dustin out of trouble. It was also a good way to get to know him better. The more time he’d spent around the kid, the more curious he was about Dustin Holbrook.

In spite of his penchant for mischief, the only previous trouble Sylvia could recall was Dustin’s shoplifting a candy bar when he was eight. According to her and Frank, Dustin did things to get attention, even if that attention was negative. Like joining a gang and spray-painting a squad car. But his attitude made it difficult to find him a permanent home.

Cody rode back to the barn, but not until he’d given Nikki ample time to put her mare up and return to the house. He unsaddled Raven and rubbed him down before turning the gelding back out with the other horses. Forcing himself not to so much as glance at the ranch house, Cody made his way to his pickup truck, Max at his heels, and checked to make sure he had the tools and supplies he and Dustin would need for the fence.

Minutes later, the sound of a vehicle drew his attention, and Max barked a warning as the Thompsons’ minivan pulled into the drive. Sylvia parked beside Cody’s Chevy and leaned through the open window, her long, gray-streaked ponytail hanging over one shoulder. She gave him the same warm smile she always wore whenever he went through her checkout line at Wal-Mart. “Hi, Cody. How’s it going?”

“Not bad, Sylvia.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue. He nodded toward Sylvia’s husband. “Good to see you again, Frank.” He didn’t know Frank well, but he seemed like a pretty good guy. Walked with a limp as the result of some shrapnel he’d taken in his hip in Nam.

“Likewise.” Frank nodded. “I sure appreciate you finding some more chores for Dustin.” The older man shot the kid a look.

“No problem.” Cody craned his neck to peer into the van where Dustin sat in the middle seat beside one of his foster siblings, brooding as usual. He hadn’t taken kindly to the community service he’d been assigned, much less to the extra work Frank and Sylvia had sentenced him to. “Ready to string some fence, Dustin?”

“I guess.”

Progress. Not much, but some.

“I wanna help, too.” Five-year-old Michael spoke from the back seat. Beside him, the two-year-old, Jessica, began to fuss in her car seat.

“So do I.” Michelle, seven, smiled widely at Cody.

He smiled back. “You keep eating your vegetables, kids, so you’ll grow big and strong, and then we’ll talk.”

“I am big and strong,” Michelle insisted.

“I think I’m going to puke.” Dustin rolled his eyes and climbed from the van, his body language letting everyone know there were a thousand places he’d rather be than here.

“Dustin,” Frank warned, “mind your manners.”

But Dustin only scowled, ignoring Frank. With both hands he ruffled Max’s fur, avoiding further conversation. Cody had been surprised by the way the big German shepherd had taken to the boy—and vice versa—the first time the two had met.

Max’s normal attitude ran the gamut from aloof to forbearance. He’d been Cody’s dog for two years now, after a gunshot wound had put him out of commission as a K-9 officer with the neighboring Ferguson Police Department. Though he tolerated and respected Cody, Max had never shown much interest in bonding or being overly friendly toward anyone after losing contact with his partner. Until Dustin came along. Even now, despite his normal pickiness, he took the bone-shaped treat the boy withdrew from his pocket and chomped it down with enthusiasm.

Turning his attention from dog to boy, Cody noticed Dustin’s previously long and shaggy, chestnut-brown hair trimmed to a reasonable length. Yet he still wore baggy jeans and running shoes with his ball cap at a cocked angle to match his attitude. Instead of his usual oversized T-shirt, he’d put on a long-sleeved shirt, untucked. Stringing fence, even if it was barbless wire, wasn’t something a person wanted to do without the protection of sleeves and leather gloves.

“Let’s get to it.” Cody gave the van’s door a friendly tap. “’Bye, kids.” He waved at Jessica, who paused in the throes of fussing to stare at Cody, wide-eyed. Cody tried not to think about how the little girl’s big, blue eyes reminded him of the child he’d lost. “Frank, Sylvia, see you later.”

“Keep him busy,” Frank said. “Dustin, you remember what I said about minding your manners.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Dustin sulked away from the minivan, hands shoved into deep front pockets.

A long chain hung from the wallet in his back pocket down to his knees, then disappeared back up beneath his shirttail, attached to his belt, the end of which also dangled down the leg of his pants. He postured a gangsta walk as he made his way to the Chevy and climbed inside. Cody shook his head and followed as the sound of the Thompsons’ van faded down the driveway. He opened the driver’s door of the pickup and let Max jump up onto the seat before sliding in after him.

Dustin remained silent as Cody started the truck and headed out a ranch road that led to the back half of the property.

“Did you bring gloves?” Cody eyed Dustin’s baggy jeans. A person could hide a small child and two dogs in the pockets of those things.

“Don’t need ’em.”

Cody bit back a sigh. “Yeah, you do need ’em.” He leaned forward and retrieved the kid-sized pair of leather gloves he’d picked up at the feed store yesterday, and tossed them in Dustin’s lap. Dustin glared at him, but Cody ignored him.

“I’m not a hick.” Dustin spoke the word in such a way that let Cody know exactly what he thought of him.

“I believe the politically correct term is cowboy,” Cody shot back. Then he softened. He was supposed to be setting a good example, not arguing with the kid. “Look, the gloves are for your safety, like I told you before. I’m not trying to make you be a hick.”

“Don’t you mean ‘cowboy’?” Dustin looked out the passenger side window as though bored out of his mind. “How can you stand living out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Cody resisted his initial impulse to throttle the kid. The ranch meant almost as much to him as his marriage. It might be the only one of the two he had left at the moment.

Hell, if he lost Nikki, nothing else would matter.

“This ranch has been in my family for almost seventy years.”

“That’s probably because nobody else would want it.”

This time, Cody was unable to hold his emotions in check. “Look, Dustin, you put yourself in this situation,” he snapped. “You might as well make the best of it.”

Dustin faced him, his dark brown eyes narrowed and his freckled cheeks red. “I didn’t ask to do stupid cowboy chores on some stupid ranch.”

“No, but you chose to spray-paint my squad car. Negative actions have consequences.”

“Oh, excuse me. I’ll remember to write that down in my journal.”

“You do that.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, then postured his shoulders, hands, and arms gangsta-like. “So me and my homies decided to spray-paint a few buckets. Big deal.”

“I’d hardly call a Crown Vic with a souped-up 460 a bucket. And while you’re busy taking notes, remember that your homies decided extracurricular art wasn’t such a good idea after all.” Cody steered the pickup around a pothole in the dirt road. “They obviously learned something from what happened to you.”

“Yeah, right.” Dustin slumped against the seat and stared out the window at the rolling grassland and the groves of trees beyond.

Frustrated, Cody was nonetheless determined. He’d overseen juvenile community service on more than one occasion and had managed to see those kids through their assigned hours with a fair amount of success. He’d find a way to work things out with Dustin, too.

Minutes later, Cody veered off the dirt road. He drove across the pasture to the corner of a section of fence that sagged between posts, some of it broken, where the horses had leaned on the wire to reach grass that was always greener on the other side. With the Chevy parked, he got out and closed the door behind him, Max tagging at his heels.

Dustin did likewise and stood staring at the five strands of barbless wire that stretched out of sight from both points of the corner post. “We have to fix all of that?”

“Most of it.” Cody moved to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate. He reached for the heavy roll of wire and dropped it onto the ground, rolling it along with his booted foot. Leaving it by the corner fence post, he returned to the truck for the tools they would need. He handed the fence stretcher to Dustin.

“What’s this thing?” The boy looked at the metal, saw-toothed and jointed contraption as though it might bite.

Cody grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you.”

Two hours later, Dustin had the operation of the fence stretcher down pretty well, and Cody thought the boy even seemed to be enjoying the pleasure of working with tools. “Let’s take a break.” He lifted his cowboy hat and ran his sleeve across his damp forehead. The July sun burned down on them without mercy. Max had long ago retreated to the shade beneath the pickup truck, where he lay on his side, snoring loudly.

“Canteen’s empty,” Dustin said, tipping it upside down and giving it a shake.

“So, go fill it.” Cody put his hat back on. This wasn’t the best time of day to be out here stringing fence in the heat. Had he purposely picked late morning to early afternoon to make things harder on Dustin—or was he punishing himself? He’d done a lot of that, ever since Anna’s death.

“Where?” Dustin crinkled his features in a mask of adolescent sarcasm. “I don’t exactly see a convenience store anywhere nearby.”

“Try the water pump.” Cody gestured to the west. “It’s over that knoll, by the stock tank. You can’t miss it.”

“You want me to drink horse water?”

Cody gave him a look of exasperation. “The pump is fed by an underground spring. It’s better than any bottled water you’ll ever taste. Just lift up on the handle, but watch out. It’ll come out hard and fast.”

“O-kay.” Dustin spun on his heel and ambled off.

DUSTIN TOPPED the knoll and eyed the neighboring ranch house that sat a short distance from the fence bordering the Somers’ pasture. Great. He knew who lived there. Mr. Super Jock himself—Eric Vanderhurst.

Running back on the seventh grade football team last year, as well as a wrestling champ and basketball center, Eric thought he was all that. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and practically every girl at school hanging on his every word. He made Dustin want to puke. But worse, Eric was a bully who enjoyed picking on boys younger and smaller than him. He’d long ago singled out Dustin as one of his targets.

It was no secret that a lot of kids resented Dustin for having been bumped up a year. He was the youngest kid in Deer Creek Middle School’s seventh grade class. In the first grade, he’d been skipped to second because of his ability to learn quickly and easily. With a photographic memory, it took him little effort to retain whatever the teachers threw his way, and acing tests was so simple, Dustin found them boring.

But then, that had been before his mom had given herself completely to the drugs and alcohol. Before the foster care system had swallowed him up and spit him out again and again.

Frank and Sylvia were okay. He’d lived with them for about a year now. But he didn’t give a rat’s ass about school anymore, and he’d recently let his grades slip to the point where he’d barely passed seventh grade. Everyone was on his case—Frank, Sylvia, his teachers and school counselor. But Eric Vanderhurst made his life all the more miserable.

Dustin had been relieved when summer vacation finally arrived so he could hang with his friends. But Eric wouldn’t leave him alone, even now that school was out. He made it his mission in life to make Dustin’s life hell, which was part of the reason Dustin and his homies had decided to form Tech-9. As a gang, they would show jocks like Eric that they weren’t to be messed with, and spray-painting their initials on cop cars had seemed a good way to start. It was something Dustin was sure Eric would be too chickenshit to do.

But now all that had been blown to hell, thanks to Officer Do-Good, and even Frank and Sylvia had turned on him, making him do these lame chores on this stupid ranch. Like he’d told Cody, he wasn’t a hick. And the last thing he wanted was for Eric Vanderhurst to see him filling up some Roy Rogers canteen at a horse trough.

Seeing no one in the Vanderhursts’ yard, Dustin heaved a sigh of relief and headed down the other side of the knoll, toward the stock tank and the shiny red pump. And came to an abrupt stop when he saw Eric standing beside the tank. It was as though his fears had conjured up the worst-case scenario.

What was he doing on this side of the fence, on the Somers’ land? Too late to run, and with nowhere to hide, Dustin swaggered toward the big, round stock tank. “I didn’t expect to see your ugly face today, Vanderhurst.” The words of false bravado nearly choked him, but he refused to let Eric know he was afraid. He willed his heart to stop pounding. Glancing back, he saw that the knoll effectively blocked Cody from seeing them. The Vanderhursts didn’t have a clear view from their house, either. No witnesses. No one to see if Eric acted on the threats he so often dished out in the hallways at school, and at the mall.

But to his surprise, it was Eric who fidgeted and looked as though he’d been cornered. “What the hell are you doing here?” A good three inches taller than Dustin, Eric scowled down at him as Dustin halted near the tank.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Belatedly, he noticed Eric had something hidden behind his back. His pulse gave another jump. What if it was a gun? Or a knife? But as Eric shifted, he saw it was merely a pillowcase. “What are you doing with that?” He nodded toward it.

“None of your damned business.”

Dustin raised his eyebrows in another show of bravado. “Ew-w. Testy, aren’t we? What are you hiding, Vanderhurst?”

Eric looked as though he wanted to bolt. As though he were seriously thinking about doing just that. Dustin’s fear gave way to puzzlement. And then he saw movement in the pillowcase. Saw that it had been knotted shut, and from inside he heard a soft mewling.

Adrenaline surged through him. He dropped the canteen. “I said what is it?” he demanded. “Let me see.” He darted a glance from the pillowcase to the water tank and back again, suddenly putting two and two together. No longer thinking about Eric’s size or the fact that they were out here alone, Dustin moved forward and, lightning quick, snatched the sack from Eric’s grasp.

“Give it back,” Eric demanded. His arm shot out in a hard shove that sent Dustin stumbling, nearly tripping over his own feet. He managed to dodge Eric’s next maneuver, knowing the boy was capable of taking him down. But anger fueled his reflexes, lending him agility. He loosened the knot in the pillowcase and spread it open to peer inside.

Kittens. Four tiny, helpless kittens, their eyes barely open, mewed and clambered inside the blue sack.

Dustin felt sick and fought the urge to gag.

“You bastard!” Without hesitation, Dustin lowered the sack to the ground and dived at Eric.

The look of surprise on Eric’s face barely registered.

Rage filled Dustin. With everything he had, he plowed his fist into the older boy’s gut, and took deep satisfaction in his pain-filled grunt.

Drawing back his arm, he hit him again.




CHAPTER FOUR


MAX SCRAMBLED FROM beneath the pickup truck as if he’d been goosed. Cody watched as the German shepherd paused and tensed. “What’s wrong, boy?” Max’s response was an excited yip of warning. Seconds later, Cody heard the sound of muffled shouts, coming from over the knoll. He threw the fencing pliers on the ground and raced in that direction. As soon as he topped the rise his heart sank. Dustin. Fighting. With Eric Vanderhurst.

And Max straining, eager to help Cody stop the fight. “Nein! Bleib!” Cody called out the command in German for the dog to stay, then rushed forward, shouting at the boys.

“Hey! That’s enough.” He seized them by the backs of their shirts and hauled them apart. They writhed like two fish on hooks, arms flailing, trying to get at one another. “I said that’s enough. I mean it!” He twisted the material of their shirts, pulling them farther apart.

Dustin was the last to stop struggling, to finally stand still, chest heaving—anger making him shake, darkening his eyes. “You should’ve let Max have him.”

Cody let go of both boys and faced Dustin. “What is wrong with you?” He fixed him with a firm gaze, unable to believe what he’d just seen, yet realizing he shouldn’t be surprised. The cynic in him—the cop who saw the worst side of people on a regular basis—told him Dustin was trouble and likely always would be. “You’re out here working with me,” he gestured toward the distant fence, “because you’re in trouble, Dustin. And now you’re fighting?” He shook his head. “What were you thinking? What in God’s name possessed you?”

The expression in Dustin’s eyes changed so quickly, Cody almost didn’t notice. Hurt, disappointment and resignation before jolting back to anger. Still trembling, Dustin said nothing for a moment. Instead, he walked around the huge water tank and bent to retrieve something from the ground. Cody frowned. What the hell?

Dustin returned and stood with a pillowcase, of all things, in his hands. Cody’s heart leapt. Had Dustin stolen something? Had shoplifting accelerated to petty theft without the Thompsons’ knowledge? Had Eric caught him with the loot?

As quickly as the thought came, he pushed it away. Where and when would Dustin have gotten the chance? Beyond curious, Cody watched Dustin set the pillowcase at his feet, and suddenly the sharp little cries coming from inside reached his ears.

Jaw set, Dustin bent to spread the sack’s opening wide. “This,” he said, his voice tight, hard, “this is why I was fighting.” Disappointment filled his eyes again before his gaze darted from Cody to Eric, the hate and resentment darkening his expression.

“I want him arrested!” Eric pointed an accusing finger. “You saw it yourself, Officer Somers. He attacked me. I didn’t do nothin’ to him.”

“He was going to drown the kittens.” Dustin’s quiet anger was frightening, and Cody could relate.

That anyone would hurt an animal made him furious. Along with that fury, he felt guilt. He’d been quick to judge Dustin and, apparently, this hadn’t escaped Dustin’s notice. The boy shot Cody a look that said it all.

“Go ahead and arrest me. I don’t care.” He narrowed his gaze on Eric. “It was well worth it.”

Biting his tongue to keep his own temper in check, Cody examined the kittens to see that they were okay. They appeared unharmed, though they mewed pitifully. He needed to get them out of the pillowcase right away. “Take them,” he said to Dustin. “Go back to the house and find Nikki. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dustin held the opening wide, to allow air to flow to the kittens. With a final black look at Eric, he turned and hustled off toward the ranch house.

Cody waited until he was out of earshot before speaking. “Why did you do that, Eric? Where did you get the kittens?”

Eric’s face reddened, and he scuffed one running shoe against the ground. “There was a feral cat hanging out under our porch. She got hit by a car. My dad didn’t mind her there catching mice, but now that she’s gone he doesn’t want to mess with the kittens, so I’m getting rid of them.”

Cody made a mental note to have a serious talk with Mr. Vanderhurst.

Before he could respond, Eric struck another defensive posture.

“So, are you going to arrest Dustin?”

“I can do that,” Cody said. He didn’t bother to explain that they were in Garfield County, outside the town limits, and this wasn’t his jurisdiction. He wanted to put a scare into Eric, one that would make him think twice before mistreating an animal again. “But then I’ll also have to arrest you.”

Eric’s eyes bulged. “For what? He hit me first.”

“Ever hear of animal cruelty?” Cody folded his arms, planting his feet in an official-looking stance. “It’s a class one misdemeanor in this state, Eric, with a mandatory minimum fine of five hundred dollars, plus sentencing to anger management classes…” He shrugged. “A second conviction is a class six felony.”

“Second?” Eric’s jaw dropped. “I’ve never hurt an animal before.” But the way his gaze darted to the side made Cody wonder.

“Good. Let’s make sure you never do it again.” He leaned closer. “What you did to those kittens, even putting them in that pillowcase, was cruel in itself. And what you were about to do was a million times worse. I wonder what your father would say about this….” He rubbed his chin as though pondering. “Or maybe he already knows about it. You said he didn’t really want the kittens around. If that’s the case, he might be charged as an accessory to the crime.”

Now Eric’s face went pale. “He didn’t know what I was going to do. I swear.”

“Okay. We’ll see. Should I call the sheriff’s office or would you like to?”

Eric swallowed visibly. “The sheriff?”

“Sure. I’ll want to make sure everything is done by the book when you and Dustin are arrested on your separate charges.” He frowned. “Did your mother know anything about this?”

“Leave my mom out of this,” Eric said. “She likes cats. She’s the one who started feeding the stupid mother cat in the first place. If she hadn’t, it never would’ve had those dumb kittens under our porch.”

“If I were you,” Cody spoke each word quietly, distinctly, “I’d go home and tell your parents to call me. We’ll talk about what happened here, and see what you can do to make amends. Maybe you can volunteer at the animal shelter.”

“Man, don’t tell my parents.” Eric slumped in defeat, raking one hand through his short-cropped hair. “They’ll kill me.”

“You mean like you were going to kill those kittens? I doubt it. However, it’s up to you. I can talk to your folks or I can call the sheriff. What’s it gonna be?”

Eric scowled at him. “That isn’t fair.” He shot a glare in the direction in which Dustin had disappeared. “Dustin’s a little troublemaker. Everyone at school knows that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re probably right. I guess the best thing to do, then, is have you both arrested.” Cody patted his pockets. “I don’t have my handcuffs on me. But you’ll come along peacefully, won’t you?”

“Wait.” Eric held up his hands defensively. “I don’t see any reason to press charges against Dustin. He didn’t hurt me that bad.”

Cody noted the beginnings of a shiner puffing beneath the kid’s eye. He refused to feel petty for the amount of satisfaction he felt. Eric deserved what Dustin had dished out.

“I’m glad to hear it. Actually, never mind the phone call. Just tell your parents I’ll come over and talk to them later.” He gave Eric a final piercing stare. “I hope they’ll be home.”

Cody called out to Max to heel, with the German word that rhymed with moose. “Fuss.” The big dog rushed forward, and Eric took a step back, eyes wide.

But Max was well-trained and, though retired, kept sharp by the practice search-and-find exercises Cody and Jordan performed with him on a regular basis. The dog fell into place at Cody’s side without so much as another glance in Eric’s direction.

Cody headed back toward the pickup truck, still feeling bad about having misjudged Dustin.

NIKKI ROSE from the couch at the knock on the screen door. She’d seen a minivan pull in earlier and, when she’d looked out the window, realized it must have been Dustin’s foster parents, dropping him off. She wondered why Cody hadn’t mentioned that the boy was coming out today and felt annoyed that he’d already fallen into a pattern of doing things without her.

She made her way to the door and smiled at the sight of the boy standing on the porch. “Dusty? Is that really you?” She held the screen open and he stepped inside. He’d grown and changed so much. It never ceased to amaze and delight her, watching each year’s group of kindergartners mature into bigger children, preteens and finally teenagers.

He squirmed. “It’s Dustin. Hey, Mrs. Somers. How’re you?”

“I’m okay.” Her gaze fell on the pillowcase he held out in front of him like a trick-or-treat bag. “What have you got there?”

“Kittens.”

“What?” She listened, horrified, as he explained the incident with Eric Vanderhurst. Belatedly, she noticed that Dustin’s lower lip had a small cut on it. Otherwise, she saw no marks on him. Apparently Cody had stopped the fight before it got out of hand.

A small part of her was sorry. The part that wanted to throttle Eric Vanderhurst herself. “I can’t believe people can be so cruel.” She reached inside the pillowcase and pulled a tiny silver-gray tabby kitten from inside. It hissed and spat at her, making her chuckle in spite of the sad situation. “Look how cute they are. Already full of spit and vinegar.” Cradling the kitten against her chest, she reached for another, this one orange.

Dustin gently extracted the third and fourth kittens—a calico and a black one. “I wanted to throw Eric in that horse tank.”

“I’ll bet you did. I don’t normally condone violence, but when it comes to animal cruelty…well, hold me back.”

He frowned. “I wonder where their mother is.”

“Did Eric say?”

Dustin lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “I didn’t give him much of a chance.”

“I see. Where’s Cody?”

“Talking to Vanderhurst.” He smirked. “I bet he’s giving him he—” He broke off. “Giving him what for.”

“I’m sure he is.” Her heart gave a little jump. More than likely, Cody would come back to the house when he was finished with Eric. “Well, maybe he’ll know more about the situation. In the meantime, we need to get these poor little kittens someplace safe and secure.” She knelt on the living room carpet near the couch and gently placed the kittens on the rug before reaching for some throw pillows to make a little wall around the tiny cats. “I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, she returned with a laundry basket lined with towels and a heating pad, an extra towel draped over her arm. In a corner of the room, she placed the heating pad on the rug and plugged it in, then put the towel over it, followed by the laundry basket, positioning half of it over the electric pad. Then she put the kittens in the basket. “This way they can move off the heated area if they get too warm.”

Dustin reached to stroke the kittens with one index finger. “How will they eat if we don’t find their mother?”

“They do look hungry.” Nikki pondered. “I’ll go to the feed store and see if they have some pet nursing bottles and a milk substitute. Can you keep an eye on the kittens while I’m gone?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.”

Telling herself she wasn’t avoiding Cody, that the kittens needed immediate care, Nikki gathered her purse and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back. When Cody comes to the house, tell him where I went, will you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Nikki paused briefly in the doorway, studying Dustin’s face. He focused intently on the kittens, his jaw set in determination. It was easy to see he wanted them to live as much as she did. His gaze softened as he watched the babies moving around, and he smiled and began to talk in a low voice to them. Reassuring. So different from the boy Cody had described, who had wanted to join a gang and who seemed to look for trouble. This time, trouble had found him, and he’d been right to stop it.

Nikki turned and headed out the door. She felt partial to Dustin because he’d been one of her kindergarten kids.

The only kids she had now. The only kids she’d ever have.

She could and would learn to live with that.

CODY WATCHED as Nikki and Dustin took turns feeding the kittens in pairs. The little buggers had taken surprisingly well to the two doll-sized, pet nursing bottles Nikki had bought and soon fell asleep in a multi-colored pile of cotton-soft fur, curled into the towel above the heating pad, their tiny eyes closed, their paws tucked into various positions of comfort.

And he saw that Nikki used the kittens so she wouldn’t have to look at him as he sat on the edge of the couch near the basket. Every time she avoided his gaze, it wrenched his heart.

He damned sure wasn’t about to sit here and take the old cold shoulder routine.

Cody stood. “Come on, Dustin. We’d better get back out and finish up that section of fence before Frank and Sylvia get here.”

Dustin protested at having to leave the kittens, but followed him back to the truck. Inside, he gave Cody the same silent treatment Nikki had, obviously still ticked off at the way Cody had jumped all over him earlier.

They reached the section of fence where they’d left off, and the two worked in stubborn silence. After some time in the hot sun, Cody realized they hadn’t refilled the canteen. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t even remembered to pick it up back at the pump by the horse tank. Unable to stand the silence another minute, he looked at Dustin. “Guess we never did get our canteen filled, huh?”

“Nope.” Dustin stared straight ahead, mechanically hammering a fence staple into place.

“I suppose it’s still by the water tank?”

“I’ll get it.” Huffily, Dustin dropped the hammer to the ground and spun to go.

“Hold up a minute.”

“What?” Dustin slumped his shoulders in a show of impatience and gave Cody a look that said he had his attention under duress.

Cody stood with one hand on his hip. “I’m sorry I came down on you for fighting with Eric. I didn’t realize what was happening.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dustin turned away.

“Dustin.” Cody spoke firmly, and Dustin sighed and scowled at him. “It does matter. I had no right to jump to conclusions that way.” His lips turned upward. “You did good, partner.”

“I told you,” Dustin said gruffly, blushing. “I’m not a cowboy, partner.”

Cody watched him walk away. The little brat.

No wonder no one wanted to adopt him.

WHEN THE THOMPSONS came to pick Dustin up, Nikki went out to meet them. Now that she’d gotten reacquainted with Dustin, she was curious about Frank and Sylvia. They were delighted to meet Dustin’s former teacher, and she liked them right away. Sylvia was friendly and easy to talk to, and Frank was chatty and had a great laugh.

When the couple went in search of Dustin, Nikki returned to the house. She sat in the corner, watching the kittens sleep, knowing Cody would likely not come back to the house with Dustin gone, unless it was to get the rest of his clothes. Maybe he would simply wait to get them another time, when Nikki wasn’t home. Should she leave for a while? Maybe go to Jana’s house, or to the mall to kill a little time.

She and Jana had been good friends since high school, even before she and Cody had started dating in Nikki’s junior year, Cody’s senior. Jana had been extremely supportive during Nikki’s attempts to have a baby, but still, she missed Amanda, who wasn’t just her sister. She was her best friend. Devastated when Amanda moved to Tennessee, it had been hard to say goodbye to her all over again after their three-week visit.

Nikki was startled by the sound of Cody’s footsteps on the porch. The screen creaked open and he stepped inside, his gaze immediately finding hers. “So, what do you think of Dustin?”

Relieved he wasn’t going to pick up where their earlier conversation had ended, Nikki managed a smile. “He’s a kid with potential.”

“I hope you’re right. With his attitude, I’m beginning to wonder.”

“Attitude? He was gentle with the kittens.”

“That’s not exactly typical of his behavior.” Cody shook his head. “Dustin’s not easy to get close to.”

“Can you blame him? He’s been through a lot, from what little I’ve heard.”

“I’ve been hoping that working on the ranch will give him the chance to open up. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger.”

Nikki’s chest constricted as she studied Cody’s face. It was easy to see how caring a person he was. He’d always had a deep-seated desire to help others. It was a large part of why he’d become a police officer in the first place. So why couldn’t he reach out and help her—help himself—through this trying time in their marriage?

“Speaking of heart-to-heart talks,” Cody said, “I’ve put off calling Amanda long enough. Do you think she might be home now?”

Nikki glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was almost four-thirty, two hours later in eastern Tennessee. “She should be. Unless she’s gone out somewhere with Ian.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll give you a little privacy.”

Their eyes met before she stepped outside.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Sure. I’ll be right out here if…if Amanda wants to talk to me.” If you need me.

Without another word, she closed the door behind her.

“HELLO?” Amanda’s voice came across the line, and Cody’s mouth went dry. How much did she know about their failing marriage? Probably everything. Nikki had always confided in her sister.

“Amanda, it’s Cody.” He took a deep breath. “Nikki told me you got engaged. Congratulations.” He knew he should congratulate her on her pregnancy as well, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. The words clogged in his throat like backed-up sewage. He tried to swallow as Amanda spoke.

“Thank you.” Her tone seemed hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure whether to trust his sincerity.

He felt ashamed of himself. “I mean that, Amanda. And I want you to know how sorry I am for the way I acted toward you after the accident. I said some horrible things, and that was wrong. I didn’t mean them.”

“I know you didn’t.” The familiar warmth was back in her voice, just like that. Cody admired his sister-in-law so much for her ability to forgive and forget. He wished he could forgive Anna’s killer so easily. But black thoughts overwhelmed him at the thought, and he had to force himself to focus on what Amanda was saying. “It’s all right, Cody. I don’t want you to give it another thought. Just be good to yourself. Be happy.” She hesitated. “Nikki seems to be doing better.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to get into his marriage. Didn’t want to listen to any lectures on why he should save it. “Speaking of which, she’d like to say hello. Hang on and I’ll get her.”

He bid Amanda a quick goodbye and laid down the phone. Going out to the porch to get Nikki, he was stopped by her beauty as she stood in profile, leaning against the rail, looking out at the distant mountains.

She turned to face him, saying nothing, and he knew she was waiting. Waiting to see how things had turned out between him and Amanda.

“We’re okay,” he said. “We made peace with one another.”

“So, do you feel better?”

She was really asking if talking to Amanda had helped him put the accident behind him. He struggled not to be irritated.

“I feel better about the way things are between me and your sister, yes.” He looked her in the eye. “But I still want to catch the bastard who murdered our daughter.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Amanda’s still on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”

The hurt and anger in Nikki’s expression nearly undid him. He saw something else there—bitterness and frustration. All the same things he was feeling.

“I’m going over to the Vanderhursts to talk to them about Eric. I’ll be back later to get my stuff.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Nikki staring after him. He could feel her gaze on his back, and wished for the millionth time he could somehow make things right between them.

The sound of the screen door, creaking open, then closing again as she went inside the house reached him as he neared his pickup truck. Then the sharp click of the door as she shut it firmly behind her. Not exactly slamming it, but still sending a message to Cody.

He climbed into his pickup truck and slammed the door shut. He hated this. Hated what his life had become.

And he used that hatred to fuel his anger and his need for justice. He would find Anna’s killer, whether or not Nikki understood.




CHAPTER FIVE


NIKKI STOOD in the hallway outside the door of what was to have been Anna’s room, knowing she’d put off the inevitable long enough. In the five days since her last conversation with Cody, after he’d spoken with Amanda, she had looked for anything and everything to keep her mind off Cody’s harsh words and the fact that they now lived in separate houses. Restoring the nursery to a guest room would help keep her busy.





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