CHAPTER 18
Travis pulled to a stop in front of Elaine’s trailer and reached for the box on the front seat. He seemed to have a soft spot for Dax he couldn’t shake. Last week it had been the bike, and this week when he’d returned to the police station from Manhattan, package in hand, Weston had cocked an eyebrow and shaken his head.
“What?” he’d growled. If the kid was gonna learn to ride horses, he needed a real pair of boots. And what kid didn’t want a cowboy hat?
“When you gonna wake up and smell the coffee?” Weston had asked.
There was no coffee to smell. Dax was a good kid. And he enjoyed having Dax at the house. Why wouldn’t he want to do things that put a smile on the kid’s face? He hadn’t exactly had the easiest life to date.
And the SUV had made good sense. Granted, it dug into his nest egg a little more than he’d wanted. Okay, a lot more. But he was tired of borrowing Weston’s truck to bring Elaine and Dax back and forth. The built-in car seat in the back was just unexpected bonus. Nothing more. Grabbing the box, he opened the door and jogged up the short walk.
It was only seven in the morning, but already the air was thick and heavy. The heat and humidity had been building for days, and one of these afternoons it would storm. Thankfully tornado season was over, although technically, with the right conditions another one could spin up. Unease prickled up his spine. No one looked at the skies the same way anymore. Not even him.
Elaine’s door stood open but he still knocked twice, pushing away the flash of irritation at her insistence on leaving her home unsecure. That was a battle he wasn’t going to win.
“Come in,” she called from inside. “Dax is finishing breakfast.”
Stepping in, he tucked the box behind his back. Not that it got past the eagle eyes of a seven-year-old.
“What’s that?” Dax pointed to the box.
“Something you need for today.”
Elaine gave him a look of exasperated pleasure that had his cock jerking in his shorts. By the time the special election rolled around, he’d be immune to her, right? Ha. Tell yourself another lie, asshole.
Ignoring the voice in his head, he laid the box on the table. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Dax dug into the box with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. He couldn’t wait to see the boy’s reaction to the boots. His chest pulled tight, then relaxed at the delight on Dax’s face. It felt so good he almost wanted to bring him something every day. Just to feel that warmth spreading across his chest again.
“Travis,” Elaine reprimanded, but unable to keep a smile off her face. “You really don’t have to do this.”
“Nonsense. Every boy around here needs a hat and boots.” He glanced back over at Dax, who’d immediately put on the cowboy hat, and was sitting on the floor, pulling on the boots. His heart twisted. For a split second, he’d flashed to a memory of Colton yanking on a pair of boots, excited to ride with their dad. He ignored the tickle in his throat and kept talking. “If he’s going to spend a day helping us with the horses, it’s a requirement.”
Elaine reached for her wallet. “At least let me pay you, then.”
He widened his stance, crossing his arms. “Nope.” He hadn’t intended to buy anything on his weekly trip up to Manhattan, but he’d found himself in front of the western wear shop on Poyntz, and he couldn’t resist taking a look.
“Travis.” Her face softened and the faintest whisper of pink crossed her cheeks. Maybe her plain white shirt was his favorite. It set off her pale skin and brought out the color in her cheeks, as well as the blue of her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dax interrupted.
“Mom, mom, mom. Look.”
She swung her gaze to her son, her face lighting. Her reaction was even better than Dax’s. He’d definitely bring them something every day to be the recipient of that look.
“Every inch the cowboy.” She turned back to Travis, eyes full of concern. “You’ll make sure he stays safe?”
He nodded. “Of course.” There was no way he’d let anything happen to Dax. “Remind me where you’re off to?”
Dottie crowded into the living room. “I’m driving Elaine to Manhattan to take her GED today. You ready, sweetie pie?”
“What?” His stomach sank. He should be the one to take her. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have–”
A flush rose up Elaine’s neck. “I wanted to do this on my own. You’ve done so much already.”
God, he wanted to hold her. Reassure her and kiss away her worry. He hated seeing her face pinched with anxiety. It made his chest hurt. He would do anything to see her smile. He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park.”
And there was the smile that warmed his belly. “Thanks. Dottie’s been a great tutor. I’m prepared.” And her quiet confidence. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with Dax?”
“Don’t you worry about Dax, sweetie pie,” Dottie reassured her. “Between Travis and the Hansens, someone will have eyes on him at all times.”
Elaine bent and gave Dax a hug. “You be good, ’kay? Listen to Travis?”
He squirmed out of her hug. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”
She stood and took a deep breath, turning her focus to him. “Thanks again. Call if you need anything.”
The urge to take her in his arms and press away the wrinkle above her nose had his hands twitching. But he stepped aside to let her pass, fisting a hand at his side so he didn’t reach out.
“All set, kiddo?” Travis asked, dropping a hand to the boy’s shoulder.
Dax grinned up at him. “I’m having a man’s day, huh?”
“You bet, buddy. But let’s go get some grub first. How does special breakfast at the food truck sound like?”
Travis fought to keep from laughing as Dax’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Can I have chocolate milk?”
“Does your mom let you have chocolate milk?”
He looked a little guilty. “Sometimes, but not at breakfast.”
This kid. He should say no. “Well, I bet once won’t hurt. Chocolate milk it is.” Warmth spread across his chest as he was rewarded with another toothy grin.
Hours later, Dax stood on the rungs of the pen, arms draped over the top as he watched Hope coach Cassidy through a pattern with a big gelding. Travis slung an arm over his narrow shoulders as Cassidy left the ring. “What do you think, buddy? Would you like to do that someday?
Dax nodded eagerly. “And I want to ride a bucking bronco too.”
Again the pang. Colton had become obsessed with bucking broncos at roughly the same age. “First, let’s get you riding tame horses. How does that sound?”
Hope returned to the paddock with a small palomino mare. “This is Sunny. She’s half Arabian. I picked her up in Oklahoma about a week ago. She’s real gentle and on the small side. Does she fit the bill?”
Travis nodded. Pleased. She’d be the perfect first horse for a new rider. He tilted his head and eyed Dax. “What do you say? You want to ride her?”
“Yeah,” he shouted, hopping off the fence.
“First rule of horseback riding,” he said as he caught up to Dax. “No yelling around the horses. It scares ’em, right? And what do you think would happen if a horse got scared?”
Dax thought for a minute. “Would it buck you off?”
“It might. And we promised your mom safety first, right?”
Dax nodded.
Hope bent. “Okay, Dax. I’m going to teach you how to join up with Sunny here. You know what that is?”
Dax’s eyes were saucers. He shook his head. “It’s when the horse and rider get to be friends. Would you like to be friends with Sunny?”
He nodded rapidly.
She handed him a looped lead line. “Okay, I’m going to be right here next to you the whole time.”
Travis hung back by the gate, watching with a combination of excitement and pride as Hope took the boy through the same process she’d taken the adults.
Cassidy came to stand next to him, her eyes fixed on the pair in the ring. After a minute, she spoke. “You were right, you know. About the horses helping. Thanks.”
“I know someone you can talk to if you decide to take the plunge. It’s been… helpful.” He wouldn’t admit that to many people, that his sessions in Manhattan with Dr. Munger had helped him. But maybe by being the example, she’d see that talking to someone wasn’t as scary as being afraid to go to sleep.
Cassie narrowed her eyes. “Does this bend toward self-improvement have to do with running for sheriff or with a certain lady?”
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “We all have shit to deal with. Maybe I just got tired of hauling mine around for so long.”
“Hhmph.”
“Hey Travis, look!” Dax called enthusiastically from atop Sunny. “I’m riding all by myself.”
The warm spot in his chest grew. “Lookin’ good there, kiddo.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me take a picture and send it to your mom. She’ll be so proud of you.” Dax gave him a huge smile and he snapped a picture, sending it off in a quick text to Elaine.
Cassidy nudged him. “Your grin is about as big as his. What gives?”
His smile froze. “Nothing. He’s a good kid, that’s all.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I always knew the Navy was filled with bullshitters.” Pushing off the fence, she gave him a finger wave as she headed for her old Yamaha motorcycle. “See you ’round.”
Cassidy was wrong. He’d be proud of any kid who had begun to turn around the way Dax had. It was his job to be kind to all the children in Prairie. Teach them that police were friendly, safe. Sure, he liked Dax. Dax was a great kid. But it wasn’t like he was related to the boy.
The breeze shifted, bringing with it the scent of rain. Travis turned and studied the sky. Clouds were building to the southwest. They probably had another ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the rain came. Thunder rolled in the distance. Travis glanced over to the pen. Dax had stiffened in the saddle, face scrunched up.
Poor guy. He didn’t like storms much either since the tornado.
“Hope, let’s wrap things up. Storm’s a comin’”
She gave him a thumb up.
Travis circled the pen and came around to where Hope’s mustang, Buttercup, stood. “Come on, girl. Time to get you back to the barn.” He took the reins, and began leading the horse around to the barn. By the time Buttercup had been put in the stall and the tack put away, the sky had gone dark and big fat raindrops were splatting on the ground.
When he reached the pen, he could see Dax with his hands full of rope, eyes wide with fear. “It’s just a storm, Dax. No one’s going to get hurt. Take the rope to the tack room, and then head up to the house, will you?”
Hope handed Travis the reins to Sunny. “Take Sunny to the barn and tie her to the post. We can unsaddle her once we’ve put the rest of the stuff away.” She gestured to the remaining obstacles and tack at the far end of the arena.
He hurried to the barn with Sunny, looping her reins around a post halfway down the aisle, and turned just as a bright flash of lightning and an instant clap of thunder ripped across the sky. The heavens opened up, and the rain came down in curtains. Hunching his shoulders, he jogged to the pen, instantly soaked through. “I’ll take the rest. You head up to the house,” he shouted over the din. Hope handed him the last of the tack, and he raced for the barn.
The storm was a doozie. The rain came in sheets as black sky glowed where lightning popped around him. He hurried through the rest of the chores, glad that Hope was around to reassure Dax.
When he arrived on the back porch several minutes later, Hope handed him a towel. “I hope Cassie made it home before the rain hit,” she said breathlessly. “I haven’t been caught in a downpour like that in ages.”
“Me either.” Shaking out his Stetson, he scanned the porch, then went cold. “Where’s Dax?”
Hope gave him a funny look. “I thought he was following after you?”
He shook his head, icy fingers of dread clutching at his heart. “I sent him to the tack room with the ropes and told him to head up here.”
“I’ll check inside.”
Wind screamed through the trees as the rain pelted down furiously. But the sky didn’t have any of the sick green color that indicated tornadoes were close. This was just a big summer thunderstorm. Totally normal for Kansas in August. Travis tried to calm the rising panic in his chest. He was probably hiding somewhere inside, scared of the storm.
Hope returned, shaking her head. Travis was off the porch in a flash, running through the mud to the barn. Dax had to be in the barn. Goddammit. Why hadn’t he thought to check the weather today? Or ask Elaine how Dax had reacted to storms since the tornado? “Dax?” he called out as soon as he’d pushed open the barn door. “I’m here, Dax. Everything is okay.”
Nothing but the deafening sound of rain and thunder shaking the timbers. The storm was louder out here than in the house. Much louder. “Dax,” he yelled. Dread gnawed at him. He was a cop for chrissakes. Elaine had relied on him to keep her son safe, and he’d gone and lost the boy.
Travis searched the empty stalls. No Dax. A sick ache fisted in his chest as he checked the tack room. He paced the aisle. Where in the hell was he? Maybe in the loft? “Dax?” he shouted as he climbed. He would not give into panic. “Panic is not productive,” he chanted in time to his climbing. He squinted through the dim, looking for anything unusual or out of place. Nothing. And the storm was even louder up here. No place for a scared kid. Surely he couldn’t be out in the storm? Travis slid open the second-story door to look out, just in case, but he couldn’t see for shit. The heavy rain had reduced visibility to a few feet. Another bang of thunder shook the barn.
The ache in his chest grew, squeezing on his throat. “Think, Travis. Think. If you were scared, you’d try to make yourself as small as possible.” The boy had to be somewhere in the barn. He must have missed it in his panic. He climbed down the ladder and looked again in the stalls, giving extra care to the dark corners.
“Dax. Come out, buddy,” he choked out. “I’m here, kiddo.” He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to the boy. He stepped inside the tack room, flipping on the light this time. He passed over a pile of blankets, then paused, looking closer. “Dax?” He crossed the room in two steps, sinking to his knees. He pulled back the blanket and sagged with relief, hands shaking as the adrenaline released.
The sight of Dax curled into a tiny rigid ball, eyes squinched shut, a grimace on his face and fingers stuffed in his ears, shredded him to his core. His throat grew tight with emotion and his eyelids prickled. “I’m here, son. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.” He hauled Dax into his lap and leaned back against the wall, rocking him and stroking the boy’s back, repeating the words over and over. He tightened his embrace, aware that Dax was shaking like a leaf.
Travis had never been so afraid in his life, nor so relieved. Not even when his unit had been ambushed. The realization slammed into him with the force of a freight train, momentarily stealing his air. He loved this little guy. More than anything. Travis dropped his head back to the wall, blowing out a breath. Fucking hell. What was he supposed to do now?