The Coltons: Fisher, Ryder & Quinn

Chapter 5

“I’ve never seen a smile like that one before,” Buck Yates said as he signaled for the waitress, who immediately came over.

“I bet I know what you’d like, Buck,” she said as she picked up the empty plates from the table. “A slice of Miss Sue’s famous cherry pie and some coffee.”

“You know me too well, Lizzy. How about you, Fisher? Was it something sweet that put that smile on your face?” Buck teased.

Something sweet and hot, Fisher thought, recalling the taste of Macy’s lips and the warmth of her body pressed to his as they had made love that long ago night.

Shifting in his seat to readjust his increasingly tight jeans, he looked up at the perky young waitress. “I’ll take a slice of that pie with some vanilla ice cream, please.”

He needed the chill to cool down his thoughts.

As Lizzy walked away with their empty plates and orders, Buck once again resumed the earlier conversation. “So what had you smiling like the cat that ate the cream? A woman, and I hope a decent one at that.”

With some force, Fisher shook his head. “Come on, Pa. You know I can’t offer a decent woman the kind of life she’d want.”

“Nonsense,” Buck began and for emphasis, jabbed a gnarly index finger in his direction. “Plenty of military men have wives and families.”

He couldn’t argue with his dad, although he understood how difficult it was for such men. Being away from their families for months on end. The fears and dangers that each new mission brought for those left behind.

“I don’t think I could share my kind of life with a woman.”

His father was about to speak when Lizzy returned with the pies and coffee, but as soon as she left them, his dad continued his plea. “You could if you took that teaching assignment at West Point.”

For weeks since the offer had come, he had been debating between that and returning for another tour of duty in the Middle East. As captain of his squad, he had recently led his men safely through three tours. He couldn’t imagine leaving them.

“I don’t want to abandon my men. Besides, I like the military life. It’s orderly. Disciplined.”

“Lonely,” Buck jumped in. “At the end of the day when you hang up that uniform with all those medals—”

“I’ll know that I helped bring home alive as many men as I could. Their families will thank me for that,” he replied and forked up a bit of the pie and ice cream. The taste was wooden in his mouth because a part of him recognized that on some level his father was right.

At the end of his career, no matter how successful he had been, his uniform would hang in a closet empty of any traces of a woman or family. Despite that, he couldn’t picture himself as a father or husband. Solving a family’s problems instead of those of his men. He wasn’t sure how to handle such things.

While glancing down at his pie, he said, “I know you’d like grandkids to carry on the Yates name, Pa. Seems to me Jericho’s the one you should look to for that.”

“Hard to believe it’s only been a couple of weeks since he met Olivia and married her,” his father said.

“I admire that Jericho’s willing to claim Olivia’s baby as his own and if I know my brother—”

“He’ll be wanting more with her. I can see how much he cares for Olivia and it really makes me happy. I always worried after what happened with your ma—”

“Don’t blame yourself. You did what you could and we all know we were better off without her,” he said and yet a part of him acknowledged that her leaving had ripped away a piece of each of them. That for him and Jericho, it had made them leery of loving a woman for fear of being abandoned again.

Like Macy had abandoned him, he thought, recalling how despite their one night of incredible passion she had walked down the aisle with Tim Ward just over a month later.

His dad must have picked up on his upset. “You shouldn’t let your ma leaving eat away at your gut like that. Neither you or Jericho had anything to do with that.”

“You’re right, Pa,” he said, wanting to foreclose any further discussion. Wanting to forget anything and everything relating to Macy Ward.

He wasn’t meant for women like her or for a family kind of life. The military was what had brought order and happiness to his life eighteen years earlier.

It was what would bring order and happiness to his life for the future.

For the first Friday night in too many months, Macy felt like she could actually just kick back and relax.

The change in T.J. in a little over a week was a welcome surprise. He had clearly bonded not only with Joe, but with Sara. She hoped that friendship would help the young girl come out of her shell and talk about her problems. The Hopechest Ranch policy was not to press for details, but offer refuge. She knew, however, that she did the most good when the children were finally able to talk about their traumas.

Maybe Sara’s friendship with T.J. and Joe would help her trust them enough to share and begin the road to healing.

Much as T.J. seemed to be healing.

In addition to the bonding, T.J. and Joe had completed each and every task that had been asked of them at the ranch and eagerly helped out with the other kids during their free time. Because of his exemplary behavior, when T.J. had asked if he could go to town with Joe and Sara, she had unequivo-cally said “Yes.”

Which meant she had time to just unwind. Rare time in her normally hectic life.

She had filled her big claw-footed tub with steaming hot water and added some fragrant rose oils that Jewel had given her as an engagement gift. She had attempted to return them after she cancelled the wedding, but Jewel had insisted she keep them so she could treat herself.

Treat herself she would, she thought, tying the lush terry cloth robe around herself and pouring a glass of wine to take with her to the bath. On the way, she snagged her brand-new romance novel from the nightstand in her bedroom.

Tim had always teased her about her romances until she had insisted he read them to her at night before bed.

He had never complained again after that, she thought with a smile as she set the book and wine on the painted wrought iron caddy. It perfectly matched the Victorian look of her bathroom, her one touch of fanciful in her otherwise modest and plain home.

She might have taken the Victorian theme further in the house, but realized it might have made it a little too girly for T.J. and had refrained from doing so. But in here and her bedroom—her private domain—she let herself give into her fantasies.

She slipped into the tub and the heat of the water immediately began to soak away some of the aches and tiredness. She loved working at the ranch, but with half a dozen children and the two teen boys, it was always a whirlwind of activities and quite physical.

The activities, however, were clearly making progress with some of the children. In the months she had been at the ranch, she had seen noticeable improvements not only in their academic skills, but their social ones. Kids who had once been loners were finally coming out of their shells.

It was what made her career so rewarding.

Grabbing the book off the caddy, she cracked it open and began to read, only she hadn’t realized it was a book with a hero in the military. It normally didn’t bother her, but her emotions were too unsettled with Fisher in town and so she set the book aside and picked up her wineglass.

As she took a sip, she recalled the sight of him and Jericho standing outside the church. Jericho had been so handsome in his tuxedo, but it had been Fisher standing there in his Army uniform, medals gleaming in the sun, that had caused her heart to skip a beat.

Even if she hadn’t had any doubts about her marriage to Jericho before then, that reaction alone would have made her realize she was making a big mistake.

No matter how much she tried to forget it, her one and only night with Fisher had left an indelible memory. One she had driven deep inside her heart when she had made the decision to marry Tim Ward.

The right decision, she reminded herself as she took a small sip of the wine.

She and Tim had been destined to be together, their short breakup in high school notwithstanding. Tim was kind and patient and honorable. When she had told him she was pregnant just a short time before their wedding, he had been understanding and had even talked to her about telling Fisher.

She had considered it back then and in the many years since. But Jericho had been going on and on about how happy Fisher was in the Army and since their night together, Fisher never approached her again.

Talk had been that Fisher was the kind of man who couldn’t commit and back then she felt he had loved and left her. When she had heard about his enlistment in the Army, it had made no sense to ruin his life by telling him about a child he probably wouldn’t want.

But then she recalled the way he had looked at her on the steps of the church. Imagined she had seen desire in his gaze along with hurt. Not that she could hurt him unless he actually had feelings for her. Something which she didn’t want to consider because it would complicate things.

Forcing her mind from such troubling thoughts, she placed her nearly untouched glass of wine on the caddy and sank farther into the bone-melting heat of the water. The fragrance of roses wafted around her, reminding her of the profusion of wild rose bushes tangled amongst the small stands of trees just outside the Esperanza town limits.

Reminding her of how the night had smelled while she made love with Fisher.

She shot upright in the bath, mumbling a curse, but then the phone rang and she mumbled yet another curse.

She had left the portable phone in her room.

As it continued to ring, demanding her attention, she climbed out of the bath, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. She raced to her bedroom to pick up before the answering machine kicked in.

Unfortunately, the answering machine engaged just as she reached it and heard across the speaker, “Mrs. Ward. This is Deputy Rawlings.”

Her stomach dropped at the identity of the caller. At his next words, sadness and disappointment filled her soul. “I’ve got your son down at the station.”

Chapter 6

T.J. walked out of the sheriff’s office beside her, his body ramrod straight and stiff with tension. He hadn’t offered up much of an explanation for the speeding which had led to his running into another car just on the outskirts of town.

Luckily the damage to both cars had been minor and no one had been injured. But because of their age and the speeding, the Deputy had decided to take the boys in and call her and Jewel.

She looked over her shoulder at her boss who walked beside Joe. The teen had a hangdog look on his face and clearly seemed to be sorry for what had happened.

Unlike T.J.

As they exited the police station, she spotted Fisher strolling out of Lone Star Square. Judging from the activity in the square, the movie had apparently just let out in the theater on the other side of the plaza. Some of the people headed to the cars parked all along the edges of the central space while Fisher and another couple waited to cross the street. He noticed them leaving the police station and condemnation flashed across his features.

It made her want to go over and wipe that critical look from his face, but she plowed forward. Speaking with T.J. about what had happened tonight needed to be her number one priority right now.

As they approached the parking lot, she inspected yet again the damage to T.J.’s car—a big ugly dent along the front bumper and part of the passenger side panel of the 1974 Pontiac GTO.

The GTO that his dad had bought as a rusty heap and had been restoring for years before his death. The GTO that T.J. had also been, as he called it, “pimping.”

She paused before the car and stared at the damage before she looked up and met Jewel’s concerned gaze, Joe’s sheepish one and T.J.’s stony countenance.

“Luckily no one was hurt and the damage to both cars can be repaired. When we get home, we’ll discuss how you’re going to pay for those repairs and the speeding ticket,” she said. Handing T.J. the keys to the GTO, she finished, “I’ll follow you home.”

Turning to Jewel, she noticed her friend’s concern, but also Jewel’s interest in Fisher as she glanced back across Main Street toward where he still stood on the edge of Lone Star Square, watching them.

She laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Can we talk about it in the morning? It’s late and we should all be heading home.”

Jewel nodded, faced Joe and said, “Let’s go. You and I have a lot to discuss, as well.”

As the two walked away, Macy waited for T.J. to get in his car and then she went to her own late model Cherokee, starting it up and then idling it until T.J. pulled out of the parking lot.

T.J.’s pace as he exited was slow.

Slow enough that it gave her yet another chance to see Fisher, the disapproval still stamped on his face as he observed them.

“Tell me again what happened?” she pressed, sensing there was something off about T.J.’s version of the speeding and accident.

“It was just an accident, Ma,” he said, slouching negligently in his chair in the kitchen.

“Tell me again why you were speeding?”

His big hands, like those of Fisher, man’s hands on a boy’s body, flopped up and down before settling on the surface of the table. “I didn’t mean to only…There was another car. It was fast. It kept getting in our face—”

“In your face? As in threatening you? Why didn’t you pull over? Use your cell phone to call the police?” Macy asked as she rested her hands on the table where T.J. sat, leaning closer.

A glimmer of fear flickered across his features, impossible to miss. “No, not like that. You know like…challenging us. Trying to prove their car was better.”

She understood about men and cars. Entire industries had been built about proving who was faster, better, fancier. She also understood about men and cars and girls.

“Sara was with you?”

Another small flinch rippled across his body and T.J. couldn’t meet her gaze as he answered, “We had already dropped Sara off at the ranch.”

She hadn’t had time at the police station to ask Jewel whether Sara had been home at the ranch when the call had come from Deputy Rawlings. She certainly would ask tomorrow because she was sure T.J. wasn’t telling the truth.

“So you were drag racing? And because you were speeding, you couldn’t stop when that car pulled out?”

An indifferent shrug greeted her queries, infuriating her, but she knew she had to keep her cool. Nothing would be gained by anger.

“You’ve already earned enough at the ranch to pay me back for the coach’s mailbox. What you earn from now on will pay for the repairs to both cars and the speeding ticket. Do you understand?”

He nodded without hesitation, but never raised his gaze to meet hers.

“You’re also grounded for a month. You come home after your work at the ranch. On the weekends, I’ll have chores for you to do around the house. Understood?”

A shrug greeted her punishment.

“I’m going to bed. It’s late and we both need to go to work tomorrow,” she said, but she didn’t want the night to end angrily.

She kneeled before her son, cradled his jaw with her hand and gently urged his face upward. Reluctantly, he met her gaze. “You are the most important thing in the world to me, T.J. You can trust me with anything. Anything,” she said in the hopes of having him tell her the truth about what had really happened that night.

A sheen of tears glimmered in her son’s eyes. He gulped, holding back emotion before he said, “I know, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you,” she said, sat up and hugged him, believing that all would be right with him as long as they still had love to bind them together.

She was a coward, she thought, not looking forward to speaking with Jewel about what had happened the night before. Because of that, and knowing Jewel’s sweet tooth, she was on her way to Miss Sue’s again for yet more sticky buns.

Luck was on her side as there was an empty parking space directly in front of Miss Sue’s. But then she noticed that Fisher was once again sitting at a booth in the restaurant.

Didn’t he ever eat at home? she wondered with irritation as she took a deep breath to fortify herself, exited the car and entered the cafe.

As she passed by the booth where he sat finishing up a mound of Miss Sue’s scrambled eggs with bacon, cheese and hash browns, he met her gaze. Rebuke filled his green eyes and within her, annoyance built. At the counter, she forced a smile to her face as she ordered the sticky buns.

The waitress smiled warmly and offered her sympathies. “Boys will be boys, Macy. Don’t let it get to you.”

She nodded, but said nothing else. She also didn’t turn to brave the rest of the people in the restaurant, although she sensed their stares as she waited. In a town the size of Esperanza, Miss Sue’s was Information Central and everyone already knew about what had happened the night before.