CHAPTER TEN
TIPPY’S LUNG WAS CAREFULLY monitored until the doctors were certain that she was on the mend. She continued on the antibiotics and avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She looked like a second-rate horror show, she mused, and she was glad that she didn’t have to appear in public for the time being.
She did worry about that third kidnapper who was still on the loose, and the danger of having a contract put out on her by Stanton or his cousin.
“Do you think Mr. Carrera was right?” she asked Cash one evening at the hospital. “About that cousin of Stanton’s trying to have me killed?”
Cash was reticent. He had been for two days, ever since Carrera’s visit. “Anything is possible,” he said. “But you’ll be in Jacobsville.”
“I’ve heard it said that a hit man can strike any where.”
He cocked both eyebrows. “Jacobsville has barely two thousand people. The vice president came through it last year. He stayed for a few nights to visit one of the Hart brothers—they’re his cousins. The secret service tagged along and tried to blend in.”
She listened, curious.
He laughed softly. “They’re great guys. I’ve known several of them, and they really care about how they do the job. But they thought the way to fit in was to look like cowboys.” He shook his head. “Here were these guys in department-store cowboy hats, wearing brand-new denim jeans and brand-new boots and spotless Western-cut shirts. One of the Hart’s cowboys walked up to one and asked if he’d like to come out on the ranch and help cut some cattle. The fed said he didn’t know how to butcher beef.”
Even Tippy understood that the reference was to removing specific cattle from a herd, not actually cutting them up. She laughed softly.
“So they got back into their suits and went on with the job.” He shook his head. “The point is, you can’t walk into a small town, where generations of people have grown up together, and not be recognized as an outsider. In a city of a half million, maybe you could. But in a town the size of Jacobsville, you’re noticed.”
“That’s a little more reassuring,” she agreed.
“I’m not going to let you get hurt again,” he reminded her firmly. “That’s a promise, and I don’t give my word lightly.”
She shifted and winced. Her ribs were still uncomfortable, but at least the headache was gone.
“Do you have a television?” she asked.
“Yes. A television, a radio, a CD-player and two bookcases full of mystery and detective novels, along with a healthy ancient history section and even some science fiction novels. If all that fails,” he added with a grin, “I’ve got some great videos. All the Star Treks, all the Star Wars, as well as most of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Harry Potter movies.”
“Those are Rory’s favorites,” she exclaimed.
“What do you like?”
She thought about that. “Sherlock Holmes, old Bette Davis movies, anything with John Wayne, and those fantasy and science fiction movies you collect.”
“I like Bette Davis movies myself,” he confessed. He moved closer to the bed and looked down at her face clinically. “The cuts are looking better already. The bruises aren’t,” he added with a sigh. “They’ve gone purple and yellow. You look like you’ve been in one hell of a fight.”
“You ought to be on the inside of these bruises,” she murmured facetiously. “I never got hit that hard, even on the streets when I was twelve.”
He scowled. “You were beaten?”
She averted her eyes. “I had a couple of close calls before Cullen picked me up,” she said. “And that’s all I’m saying about it,” she added belligerently.
He put his hands deep in his pockets, still scowling. “You don’t trust me even now, do you?”
“I trust you to be human,” she replied. “Most people are sympathetic when someone gets hurt. That doesn’t mean much after they heal.”
He hadn’t realized she was so cynical. So was he, but he didn’t think about it much. He considered Carrera’s warning and had some minor misgivings about his ability to protect Tippy. He couldn’t be at home all the time, and there was always the slight possibility that a hit man could sneak in at night without being seen locally. He knew how possible that was, from his own agonizing past experience.
“You look tormented,” Tippy remarked quietly.
He blinked and his face closed up. “You’re the patient here, not me.”
She cocked her head and studied him quietly. “You don’t share anything, either, do you? Your past is a closed book. You live with your nightmares, all alone in the dark.”
His eyes glittered. “I don’t trust anyone close enough to share them. Including you,” he lashed out involuntarily.
“Especially me,” she agreed. “I see too much, don’t I? That’s what really set you off, the night before you left New York.”
He turned away from her and stared out the window. It was raining again, typically April weather in New York. He didn’t like having Tippy look inside his mind. It was disquieting, because it denoted an intimacy that was already establishing itself between them.
“Okay, I’ll stop visiting your brain when you aren’t looking,” she murmured dryly.
“I’m a private person,” he said without looking at her.
“I knew that the first time I saw you. But it didn’t apply to everyone. I remember the day you were talking to Christabel at her ranch,” she recalled, and her voice changed. “Your voice was so tender—it was al most like you were talking to a small child. You offered to take her to town for a hamburger. You’d let her ride in your car and turn on the siren, you said.”
He turned, shocked that she remembered that.
She avoided his searching gaze. His attitude toward Christabel had hurt her. She’d never understood why, until recently. She’d been jealous. It was stupid, because this was a man who didn’t belong to people. He was always the outsider, the loner. He kept everyone at arm’s length. But he indulged Christabel always. It didn’t take a mind reader to know that he’d have sacrificed anything for her, including his own life.
“She put up with a lot from me,” Tippy was saying out loud, without realizing it. “I was totally unfair to her. I never felt it more keenly than when she was shot. I’d told her some hurtful thing about Judd, and if she died, I’d have had that memory to live with.”
He moved back to the bed, frowning. “I didn’t know that.”
She toyed with the sheet over the faded floral fabric of her cotton gown. “Joel’s assistant director was over bearing and he reminded me of Sam Stanton. I was afraid of him. Judd was my protection, my guardian angel. I was afraid if he got seriously involved with Christabel, I’d be on my own.” She looked up at him ruefully. “I was, too. Except for you.” Her eyes were dazed. “I couldn’t believe it when you grabbed his hand and made him stop harassing me.”
“I don’t like bullies,” he said simply.
“Yes, but I was the enemy,” she reminded him.
“Not after Christabel got shot, you weren’t,” he told her. “You knew exactly what to do for a gunshot wound. I didn’t realize that at the time.” His eyes narrowed. “How?”
She smiled wanly. “A lifetime of watching medical shows on television.” She yawned. “I’m very tired. I think I could sleep a little.”
He watched her impossibly long eyelashes close and stood staring down at her with his heart in his eyes. She was the most surprising person he’d ever known. He was glad he’d have time to try and make up for his mistakes when they got back to Jacobsville.
He’d phoned his office already, to give Judd a progress report on Tippy and give the other man an idea of when he was coming home. It wouldn’t be long, he thought, the way Tippy was progressing. Not long at all.
AND IT WASN’T. Within three days, she was out of the hospital and Cash was packing things for her.
She noticed that he was uncomfortable in her bed room, where they’d shared that one long night of pleasure. She didn’t mention it, and neither did he.
When her clothes were packed, he cleaned out the refrigerator and carried the contents to Rory’s friend Don and his family down the hall. Then he turned off every thing at the switch and made time to talk to the land lord, to make sure Tippy would still have her apartment when she came back.
Tippy realized that Cash wasn’t inviting her into his house for life. Just the same, it stung to have him so concerned about making sure her apartment lease didn’t lapse in her absence.
He was going day by day, not looking ahead. He tackled the details as he did every move he made, with precision and skill and economy of motion. Tippy watched him covertly, her eyes hungry on the powerful lines of his body, on his handsome face as he opened drawers and folded blouses.
“You’re very good at packing,” she remarked.
He glanced at her and grinned. “I’ve lived out of a suitcase most of my life, first in military school, then in the military itself. I’m efficient.”
“I noticed.” She looked around her with a sigh. “I’m going to miss my own space,” she confessed. “This is the first apartment of my very own that I’ve ever had. Before, I lived with Cullen in his penthouse and after ward, I shared one with another model. But this is my own.”
He smiled. “You’ll like my house. They say it’s enchanted.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Really?”
“The story was that a man built it for his wife, who had Scotch-Irish ancestry. Her people came from the Isle of Skye.” He folded another blouse and put it in the suit case. “Local legend has it that you never wanted to make that lady angry, because bad things happened. She wasn’t a mean person, she just had this unwanted ‘gift’ of the ‘evil eye.’ They said she also had the ‘second sight.’”
“Like me,” she murmured. “But I can’t put the evil eye on people. I’m sure of that, because if I could, Sam would be under the dirt instead of above it.”
He chuckled. “You’d never be able to live with a death on your conscience.”
There was a pregnant silence behind him. He turned, curious, but she was busily pulling books out of her bookcase, not even looking his way.
Her heart was beating her to death. She was glad that he couldn’t see it. There were still things in her past that she didn’t want him to know. Not yet, anyway.
“What are those about?” he asked when he noticed two books in her hands.
“One is Pliny the Elder,” she replied, and laughed. “He wrote about nature, you know. I find his work fascinating. He was killed when Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 A.D., trying to rescue people on a boat. The second book is by his nephew, Pliny the Younger, who wrote the only description extant of the eruption itself. It makes fascinating reading.”
“I haven’t read the Plinys.”
“You can borrow mine while I’m in residence,” she said with magnificent hauteur. “I feel an obligation to educate the ignorant during my convalescence.” She put her forearm across her brow with theatric emphasis. “Noblesse oblige.”
He burst out laughing.
She peered at him from under her long lashes. The sound fascinated her. She had a feeling that it was some thing he did infrequently. He’d been happy enough with Rory and Tippy at Christmas, but even then, there had been a reticence about him that was palpable. But right now he was happy.
He became aware of her rapt stare and turned toward her with a curious expression.
She smiled. “I like hearing you laugh,” she said simply.
As if the remark made him self-conscious, he turned back to his task.
She told herself that it was a start. All she had to do was convince him that smiling used fewer muscles than scowling did, and that laughter was good for the soul. It might change his life.
HE TOOK HER TO JACOBSVILLE via Houston. The plane trip was uncomfortable, even though he’d purchased first-class tickets, against her wishes. He hadn’t wanted people to stare at her. There were fewer people to do it in the front seats, and the steward and stewardess were discreet.
Tippy still felt the aftereffects of her concussion—confusion and headaches—and some chest congestion from the bruised ribs. He’d worried about flying her out, but after examining her the doctor had told Cash it would be better to fly than subject her to hours in a car even with frequent stops.
Judd Dunn met them at the Jacobsville airport. He met Tippy with a grimace and then a smile.
“I know, you think it looks bad, but you’re going to be your old self again in no time,” Judd assured her with a dark-eyed smile. He was out of uniform and Cash noted it. “It’s my day off,” he reminded Cash. “I’ve left Lieutenant Palmer in charge.”
“Palmer and not Barrett?” Cash remarked, because the men were both veterans and capable leaders.
“It’s Barrett’s day off, too,” Judd replied, and then cleared his throat. “He had something to do.”
Cash stopped dead beside Judd’s big SUV, with Tippy’s suitcases dripping from both big hands. “No,” he said at once. “No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t send Barrett over to paper my house…!”
Judd looked highly offended. “I’m a police officer. In fact, I am an assistant chief of police,” he added haughtily, with a grin at Tippy. “I would never do any thing illegal.”
“If I find one sheet of toilet paper, anywhere on my newly planted grass…” Cash began.
“Did you know he had such a suspicious mind?” Judd asked Tippy as he helped her up into the tall vehicle and gently into her seat.
“If you answer that, I’ll make you liver and onions for supper,” Cash said laconically as he stowed the lug gage in back and then hopped up into the back seat.
Tippy glanced over her shoulder at him, wincing when the movement hurt her ribs. “I hate liver and on ions!”
“I know.” Cash smiled at her.
Judd chuckled as he started the big black vehicle and started out of the airport parking lot.
They pulled into the graveled driveway at Cash’s house. It was a simple clapboard house, painted white with black shutters and a sprawling front porch with a swing and a rocking chair. There were rosebushes all around the porch, along with seedlings that were just sprouting in the flower bed.
Cash helped Tippy out of the SUV while Judd carried the suitcases to the porch.
“Don’t you put a foot in my seedbeds,” Cash warned.
Judd stopped with one big, booted foot in midair and glanced at him. “What seedbeds?”
“The ones you’re about to step on!” Cash muttered. “I planted zinnias in that one, and a mix of bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, marigolds and daisies in the other one.”
“You like to garden?” Tippy asked him softly.
He looked down into her wide green eyes and felt the world tilt. She had lovely eyes. Even in her bruised, cut face, they were exotic and fascinating. “I like getting dirt on my hands.”
Tippy was equally lost in his eyes, feeling tingly all over from the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to move forward, to step right up against him and let his arms close around her. It wouldn’t have done her ribs much good, but it was a temptation she hated having to resist.
“That’s just what that drug dealer said when we arrested him last year,” Judd said without looking at the two people nearby. He’d avoided the flower beds and stuck the suitcases on the edge of the porch. “He planted two kilos of cocaine in his flower bed.” He grinned. “I’ll bet he was hoping it would grow.”
Cash dragged his eyes away from Tippy’s. “His mistake. He got ten years.”
“Sadly, he’ll be replaced. In fact, he already has been. Our new crack dealer has relatives in power in the city. You don’t know that, of course,” Judd cautioned her.
“Oh, I don’t know anything,” Tippy agreed at once. “Ask anybody.”
“Stop that,” Cash chided, touching his finger to the tip of her nose. “You’re plenty smart enough.”
Tippy smiled and flushed a little. Her eyes clung to Cash’s like ivy.
Judd would have agreed that Tippy was no fool, but he felt keenly that he was trespassing in things that didn’t concern him. At least Tippy and Cash seemed to be getting along well enough. That was a start.
“Christabel says you can both come to supper when ever you want to,” Judd offered. “Tonight, if you like.”
Tippy hesitated, looking up at Cash.
“She’s had a hard few days, and the plane trip was no picnic, even if they were smooth flights,” Cash told Judd. “But we’ll take you up on it next week.”
“Thank Christabel for me, too,” Tippy added gently. “I know it would be an imposition for her to have company with two infants.”
“They’re not quite infants anymore,” Judd chuckled. “They’re crawling.”
“Already?” Cash exclaimed. “Jessamina, too?”
Judd glowered at him. “She has a brother. His name is Jared.”
“I know that,” Cash replied. “But he’s yours.” He swaggered. “Jessamina is mine. You wait and see.”
Judd almost bit his tongue in two not suggesting that Cash could ask Tippy for a daughter of his own. The loss of their baby had devastated Cash. Apparently it had wounded Tippy as well, because her eyes clouded at the talk of Judd’s children.
But she recovered quickly when she remembered Cash’s pet. “Your snake!” she exclaimed. “Is it…in there?” she added worriedly.
“Don’t worry,” he said patiently. “I figured you’d go nuts with a snake in the house, so I gave Mikey back to Bill Harris.”
“Thanks,” she said, and meant it.
“I have to get home. But we should go inside first,” Judd said quickly.
“All three of us?” Cash asked hesitantly.
“Definitely all three of us.”
Judd went up onto the porch and opened the door.
“That’s breaking and entering, Dunn,” Cash admonished.
“It isn’t if you have the permission of the owner.”
“I’m the owner, and you don’t,” Cash rejoined.
Judd only chuckled.
They walked inside to a dining-room table piled high with food. There were covered casseroles, platters of ham and cheese, a huge salad, homemade biscuits and at least five desserts.
Lieutenant Barrett, slim and dark-headed, was holding a big bag, grinning. “Just made it in time, chief,” he told Cash. “We had all the wives baking today, so you wouldn’t have to cook when you came home. We know how you like Julia Garcia’s biscuits and homemade preserves, too, so we had her put in a jar of blackberry jam and some grape jelly and a whole pan of biscuits. He’s not as bad as the Hart brothers,” he told Tippy, “but that’s a man who really appreciates a fluffy biscuit.”
“Lieutenant Garcia’s wife makes the best ones around,” Judd added.
“Thanks,” Cash said, taken aback. “I didn’t expect this.”
“You’ve had a long week,” Judd said simply. “We thought you’d be too tired to cook.”
“I am. What about Miss Jewell?” he added.
“She’ll be over as soon as she’s got her things together,” Judd said. “She said it would be about an hour from now. She’s sort of a practical nurse who sits with sick people,” he told Tippy. “Sandie Jewell is in her fifties, and she loves to cook. You’ll like her. She saw your movie in the theater and thought it was grand. She’ll pump you for information about the actor who was in it with you, though. She’s a real fan of Rance Wayne.”
Tippy smiled. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try not to tell her too much about him, so she can keep her illusions.” She touched her bruised face self-consciously. “Nobody’s going to believe I was ever in a movie if they see me like this.”
“Cuts and bruises fade, Miss Tippy,” Lieutenant Barrett said gently. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Thanks,” she said shyly.
“Well, let’s be off,” Judd told Barrett.
“I didn’t see your car,” Cash mentioned to Barrett.
“That’s because I dropped him off with the food be fore I went to pick you up,” Judd confided with a grin. “We didn’t want his car to tip you off too soon.”
“It was a surprise,” Cash admitted, and he smiled. “Thanks. Tell Mrs. Garcia those preserves won’t be wasted, or the biscuits, either. I’ll enjoy them.”
“If you’re quick enough, you will,” Tippy said impishly. “I love biscuits with blackberry preserves. My grandmother used to make them for me when I was little.”
“We’ll leave before hostilities ensue,” Judd said. He gave them both a wink. “Let’s not have any calls about altercations from the neighbors, okay?”
“I never altercate,” Cash said, deadpan. “I hear it causes blindness.”
Tippy had to hold her ribs to keep them from killing her while she laughed until tears stung her eyes.
Cash grinned at her and then left to walk Judd and Barrett to the SUV.
HE WAS BACK LESS THAN five minutes later. He didn’t tell her what he’d said to them, about the threat from Carrera’s former employee and the risk of a hired killer coming after Tippy. But they knew to keep a close vigil on the house when he wasn’t in it. He was also going to keep loaded guns around the house, in an unobtrusive way. He was also going to keep Tippy from knowing that in addition to sitting with sick people, Mrs. Jewell was a former special deputy with the local sheriff’s department. Her son was a police officer who worked for Cash. The woman could handle a pistol almost as proficiently as Cash himself, and she was afraid of nothing on earth. If there was trouble, she’d keep Tippy safe when he wasn’t around, until help came.
“This was so nice of them,” Tippy murmured, looking over the loaded table. “I’m not used to this much food at one time.”
“You need protein to help you heal,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry about any extra pounds. You’ve lost enough lately that you can afford to put on a little.”
She turned toward him and looked up at him, bird like. “Do you think I’m too thin? Honestly?”
He drew in a slow breath. “Your figure isn’t my business,” he said, as gently as he could. “I brought you here to protect you…”
She’d withdrawn mentally even before he got the words out. She smiled. It was a plastic smile. “I know that,” she said. “I was just making conversation. Now where’s that jam?”
Cash watched her take out paper plates and utensils from the sack that was included and remove lids from the plastic food containers.
“This looks wonderful,” she murmured. Inside, her heart was breaking in two. She’d had hopes, dreams, that she couldn’t put to rest, all about Cash. But he didn’t want her permanently, and she had to find a way to face that. He might find her attractive, desirable, but that was surface stuff. He didn’t want commitment. And she did.
“This looks like squash,” she murmured.
Cash made a terrible face. “Where’s my gun?”
She gave him a superior look. “Squash is a noble vegetable. Indians gave it to the white man. You have Native American ancestry. Therefore, you should love squash.”
“The Indians only gave it to the white man to get rid of it,” he said right back.
She laughed, putting a big spoonful of the delicious-smelling casserole on her plate. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed. “Mmm,” she murmured.
“Yuch,” he replied, moving away from the evil thing.
They filled their plates quickly and quietly. There had been no food service on either of the planes, unless you could call peanuts food. Cash poured sweetened tea from a jug into glasses filled with ice he’d found in his refrigerator. He put the jug of tea back in it.
“I’m glad they made tea for us. I love it,” he commented as they sat down in adjoining chairs to eat.
“I’m not allowed sweet tea when I’m on the job,” she said. “Calories.”
“All food has calories,” he retorted.
“Yes, but sugar has the nutritional content of card board.”
“No wonder you’re so slender.”
“It isn’t lack of food that does that, it’s the pace.” She shifted. The movement was still uncomfortable. “Filming is a torturous process. An action film like this one has all sorts of physical demands, from martial arts to stunts…” She recalled the fall, and the loss of her baby, and the explanation faded away.
He glanced at her lost expression. “Don’t do that,” he said gently. “Looking back doesn’t solve any problems, it only causes new ones. Nothing you do can change what happened.”
She lowered her fork to some potato salad and lifted it to her lips. “I was never pregnant before.”
“It would have killed your career,” he said curtly.
“They could have filmed around me,” she said simply. “It wouldn’t have been that hard. In fact, Joel actually wrote a pregnancy into one script when his leading lady announced her good news in the middle of filming.”
He glanced at her curiously. She didn’t sound like a woman who couldn’t balance work with motherhood. In fact, she made it sound easy.
She noted his close scrutiny and laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe. I can’t even remember the last time I tried to get a man pregnant.”
She’d waited until he took a big sip of tea to say that. Predictably, the tea was airborne immediately.
She laughed while he cursed. She handed him two napkins and watched him mop up his white T-shirt. “Sorry,” she said. “Couldn’t resist it. You did look so somber.”
He gave her a long look. “I don’t get mad. I get even.”
She chuckled. “I’ll take my chances. It was worth it.”
He lifted the tea to his lips again with a secret smile. Whatever her residence brought, it wasn’t going to be boring.