Lullaby for Two / Child's Play. Karen Rose Smith

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style="font-size:15px;">      A protective urge rose up in her—the urge to protect her dad and to protect herself. It was close to anger, close to rebelliousness, close to all the words she’d never been able to say to Vince because he’d left and hadn’t wanted to hear them. “You said you wanted to chip at the ice walls between us. I don’t think this is the way to do it.”

      He leaned away from the table in obvious frustration. “I don’t know how else to say it, Tessa.”

      She saw he was being sincere. She matched that sincerity with the truth. “My dad and I are close, but we have separate lives. He respects the decisions I make.”

      “Did he ask you to come back to Sagebrush?”

      She’d never had a short fuse. In fact, she’d always thought she’d been blessed with an overabundance of the gift of patience. But Vince had always made her question herself and her feelings, what she thought and what she believed. She reacted more strongly whenever she was around him, to him and to everyone else.

      She tried to keep her voice steady. “Actually, he didn’t want me to come home. He didn’t think that was good for my career. But he got tossed by a two-year-old horse he was trying to gentle and broke his arm. He could manage. He had help. But when I came home to visit, I could see how he was slowing down. I’d been so focused on med school and residency, my visits had been brief. I took a good look at my life in California and didn’t feel particularly attached. When I heard about the Family Tree Health Center opening, I decided to take the opportunity to come back. Does that answer your question?”

      “Not exactly.”

      She laid her fork down, most of her pie uneaten. “Well, it’s going to have to do.” She picked up her purse and portfolio. “I’d better be going.”

      Vince stood, too.

      “You can finish.”

      “I’m not letting you walk back to your car alone.”

      “This is Sagebrush, Vince.”

      “Yes, and I’m the chief of police. I know what goes on here.” He took some bills from his wallet and laid them on the table.

      She was going to protest, say she’d pay her half, but the look on his face told her just to head for the door. After a wave at Mindy, she pushed outside. A second later Vince was beside her, silent, not brooding, but definitely pensive.

      After half a block he asked, “Did you miss anything about Sagebrush when you were gone?”

      A glance at him told her that was a serious question. “I missed the ranch—the horses and cats, and particularly the smells. You know, old wood, saddle leather, sage, brush, the sun heating the damp grass. Mostly I missed riding.”

      “You couldn’t find a stable in California?”

      “Oh, sure. I went riding a few times. But it wasn’t the same and I simply didn’t have the time. After my shifts, I was dead on my feet. I snatched sleep when I could, studied, and didn’t have much of a life outside of work.”

      “Were you in a pediatrics practice out there?”

      “After my residency. I also volunteered at a free clinic. But I knew I’d burn out if I kept working at that pace.”

      They walked another half block without speaking. Tessa, curious about the path Vince had taken, asked, “Did your law enforcement interest begin in the service?”

      “I was stationed at Kirkland Air Force Base in Albuquerque all four years because I was in law enforcement.”

      “But why the interest in the first place?”

      There was a very long pause before Vince answered, “You knew my mother left. What you didn’t know was that she was murdered.”

      Tessa stopped walking and turned to him, her hand on his arm. “Vince. I’m so sorry. You never said anything—”

      “It wasn’t something I wanted to remember or talk about. Still don’t, really. She left me and my dad, went to New Orleans and was murdered by a lover. That’s the long and short of it. So I guess I felt I was doing something to right what had gone wrong. That’s not rational of course, but it led me where I am.”

      She could feel his taut muscles under his blazer. In the glow of the streetlamp, she could see a beard shadow darkening his jaw. What she couldn’t see was the expression in his eyes under the brim of the Stetson that shadowed them. Even so, due to her imagination or not, she could feel heat emanating from him, rising up from her, and currents rushing from her body into his and back again. She let go of his arm.

      They began walking again and soon reached the school’s parking lot where their cars were the only two left. His was a silver SUV. Hers was a small blue sedan. They were both in the front line of the lot about ten spaces apart.

      He kept pace with her as she walked toward her car.

      “I’m fine now,” she assured him. “You can keep me in your sight as I get in and drive away.”

      “I will.”

      When he clasped her shoulder, she felt…fire. A rush of memories overwhelmed her. She would have backed away from them if she could have and from him. But his magnetic pull was too great to break.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked, though she suspected he knew.

      “We’re not strangers,” she murmured, knowing that definitely wasn’t the answer to his question.

      “No, we’re not. And even if we wanted to be, that wouldn’t change what we were to each other.”

      What were we? a little voice inside her head screamed. Yet, no matter what his answer was, it was too late. They were over. They’d been over for a long time.

      “You look scared.” Vince’s hand moved from her shoulder and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do I still have the power to move you?”

      Now she did force herself to back away from his touch…forced herself to remember the sadness, the grief and the loss. “It would be foolish of me to answer that question.”

      Yet she knew by saying it, she already had.

      Her keys in hand, she hurriedly pressed the remote and the car beeped at her. She opened the driver’s door, slipped inside and quickly shut it. She didn’t roll down her window. Maybe she was being a coward, but she didn’t want to hear anything else Vince might have to say. She certainly didn’t want him to touch her again because he did still move her and she couldn’t accept that. She wouldn’t accept that.

      He stood there watching her as she backed up and drove faster than she should have out of the parking lot. She didn’t glance into her rearview mirror.

      She wouldn’t look back again tonight. She absolutely wouldn’t.

       Chapter Three

      A warning voice inside Tessa’s head whispered, You could have called Vince instead of showing up on the police

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