Chapter Twelve

After securing the plethora of locks at her front door, Devereaux headed straight for her bedroom, hers if Seth guessed right.

“Wanna help me pick up?” Scottie asked, his bright blue eyes alive with expectation.

“Sure,” Seth told him easily. Why not? Devereaux had to leave for work soon. It was the least he could do.

Scottie ran to the kitchen and returned with a black garbage bag. He draped one edge of it over the back of a fold-up chair and commenced gathering plastic bottles, plates, and other debris. The bag was nearly stuffed full when he looked at Seth and exclaimed, “I almost forgot!” before he bolted out the kitchen door.

Fear pumped an overdose of adrenaline straight into Seth’s heart. He cleared the kitchen on a dead run to the corner of Devereaux’s fenced-in yard, but he was too late. A large wire cage filled the corner and inside that cage, an amazing habitat of strategically placed logs, a cut-off piece of garden hose, a tiny waterfall that dropped to a careful arrangement of smooth stones. In the nearest corner, a large flat rock caught the afternoon sunlight.

But no iguana.

Scottie stood there sobbing, his chest heaving. The pool of dried black blood just outside the habitat stopped Seth cold. This was where Gru had lived and died. And now Scottie knew. Shit.

He turned on Seth, his blue eyes brimmed and blinking. “My lizard’s gone. Look.” He pointed to the blood. “He’s hurt, and he needs me and you gotta help me find him.”

Seth looked at Scottie. Scottie looked at Seth. Words were utterly useless. Seth dropped to one knee and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Scottie. He’s… Gru’s not hurting anymore,” was all Seth could think to say.

“But I can help him,” the boy cried. “Hurry. Come with me. Help me look! We gotta find him before he crawls out to the street. He might get runned over.”

“No, Scottie. He won’t get to the street. Gru’s…” Damn, how to say this? “…dead, son.”

“But why? Was he sick? Is he at the vet? Mama took him to see Dr. Lawrence one time when he got a tummy ache.”

Seth held out his hands to Devereaux’s son. “Come here, little guy.”

“But I took real good care of him,” Scottie whimpered, rubbing his nose into Seth’s shirt. “And we used to play hide and seek, only he wasn’t very good at finding me.” A man-sized shudder racked his body. “And now I got no one to play with when Mom’s working, and I’m sad, Mr. Seth. I’m really, really sad.”

Ah, shit. Seth scooped the boy up and turned his back on the tragic scene. Devereaux hadn’t had time to hide the evidence, but this wasn’t her fault. She’d been busy caring for the women. Sly Valentine was the problem, and he had a war coming his way, the bastard.

Devereaux burst through the kitchen door then, her hand to her mouth. When Seth shook his head, she flung herself around him and the boy. “Scottie, baby. I’m sorry. Gru died and…” Her words got stuck in her throat, and suddenly, Seth was holding a woman and her son while they cried against him.

Lowering his butt to the single step outside her screen door, he settled in for the storm. While Scottie sobbed, Devereaux seemed to need her hands on her son as if she could erase what had happened to their beloved pet. Over and over, she stroked her fingers through his sweaty head until Seth caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Enough,” he whispered. “This is hard but let him be a man. Your son’s tougher than you think.”

She lifted her teary face to him. “But I’m not.”

Seth kissed her forehead. “Oh, yes you are, Devereaux Shepherd. You are the epitome of your last name. You’re the fiercest shepherdess I’ve ever seen in my life and trust me. I’ve been to Afghanistan. I’ve seen a few shepherdesses who had no problem nailing a jackal with a few well-placed stones if it came near their flock.”

She stilled, her arms around her son and Scottie’s head against her breasts now. Dipping her lips to Scottie’s hair, she kissed him, but the nervous hands had ceased their frantic petting.

Scottie lifted his chin and looked Seth in the eye. “I love my Mom,” he told him.

I’m starting to love her, too, Seth thought, but he said, “That’s because you’re a good man, Scottie Shepherd, and good men take care of our women, don’t we? We love them with all our hearts.”

The boy’s head bobbed. “And we bring her coffee in the morning when she’s sad and we put lots of cream and sugar in it just like she likes it, huh?”

I’d certainly like the opportunity. Seth cocked his head at this little charmer. Already Scottie had been taught to think of others. “And sometimes we clean up the place when she’s too tired at the end of the day.”

Still shivering, Scottie swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, cuz my mom’s a good mom and I hafta take care of her, cuz Uncle Cord can’t always be here.” Another sniff and he swiped a brave fist under his nose.

“You think your mom needs one of those cups of coffee now?” Seth asked, content to hold these two as long as he could.

“Ah-huh,” Scottie murmured, his lips pinched into a pout. “And then I gotta find Gru and make sure he’s okay, cuz he’s bleeding.”

Oh shit. Devereaux whimpered and burrowed her face into Seth’s neck, and that was okay. He knew what to do. Setting her on the step at his side, he shifted Scottie to one thigh where he could tell him the bad news. “Gru’s not hiding, Scottie. He had an accident late yesterday and he died. Do you know what that means?”

Scottie’s sad blue eyes flooded again. “Uh-huh.”

But he didn’t. Not really. “It means he’s up in heaven with some of my friends.”

“He is?”

Seth nodded as wisely as an old soldier could. The concept of death was easier to explain when cushioned with stories of friends who’d gone on before, men who’d honestly loved, brothers who’d fought their damnedest to keep you alive, a loving fiancée, and, oh yes, the eternally annoying Latoya Franklin, God bless her wayward heart.

Somehow, the image of his bossy nemesis dealing with an iguana in heaven brought a smile to Seth’s heart. He’d lay nine-to-one odds that Latoya would squeal, turn tail, and run for her ghostly life, never to haunt him again. Tipping Scottie’s chin up with his finger, Seth told him what every soldier tells another. “Good lizards never die, Scottie. They just fade away.”

The little tyke glanced around the yard. “You mean he’s hiding?”

Seth pointed that same finger skyward. “In heaven. Gru’s hiding in heaven.” That seemed to do the trick. With a grunt, Seth lifted to his feet and swung the boy up high on his shoulder, where he landed with a subdued giggle. Better days were coming. They just weren’t here yet.

Devereaux shot him a coy smile as she swiped a finger under her teary eye. “That was very kind and thoughtful. Thank you, Seth.”

He shrugged her praise off and said, “Come on, Mama. Let’s get you that cup of coffee.”