Loving a Lawman (7 page)

Except Jake wasn't working. At least he didn't
appear
to be. Unless there was some New Age ranching technique that required a cowboy to sit at his desk, his elbows braced on its surface, his head buried in his hands.

He didn't move as Seth approached. Not good. A squatty glass of amber-colored liquid sat near, and Seth was afraid that the heartbreaking memories of the day were more than Jake could handle.

“Tell Sonny I'll be there in a minute,” Jake said his voice muffled, tired.

“You'd better come now. The clown canceled, and you're the only one who can wear the suit.”

Jake jerked up at the sound of Seth's voice, rising out of his seat as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. Like maybe brooding. Or drinking.

“When'd you get here?” he asked, walking around the desk.

Jake was the tallest of the Langston boys, topping Seth and Ty by at least an inch and Chase by several. He had the same green eyes and dark, dark hair inherited from their father. But what Seth noticed most in his brother's face the most were the brackets at the side of his mouth, the product of stress and grief. The light salting of gray at his temples and the tiny little lines that fanned out from his Langston eyes, memories of days in the sun and long-ago laughter. But Jake seldom laughed anymore—only for Wesley. He rarely smiled anymore—only for Wesley. And Seth had to wonder at the irony of the one thing that brought his brother joy was the one thing that had taken it all away . . . Wesley.

Seth looked at the tumbler. “A few minutes ago.”

Jake caught the direction of his stare. “It's iced tea.”

“I knew that.”

The eldest Langston shook his head and smiled a sad
little smile that barely touched his lips. There was no hope of the movement ever reaching his eyes. “No, you didn't. You thought I'd fallen off the wagon.”

Seth feigned innocence. “Who, me?”

“Don't even try to lie. You were checking up on me, and I love you for it.”

“Good, because I've got a favor to ask.”

Jake didn't comment, just raised a dark brow and waited.

“I need to put this in the safe until the party's over.” Seth held out the bank envelope Jessie had given him.

Jake whistled under his breath. “Is that what I think it is?”

“No, it's not a payoff. I told you when I took this job I'd be honest and trustworthy.”

Jake chuckled, then shot a pointed look at the stack of twenties. “That sure ain't lunch money.”

Seth crossed to the wall safe and pretended preoccupation in getting the combination correct so that he didn't have to answer. At least not right away. He just wasn't sure how much to tell Jake. He set the money inside, shut the door, then turned back to face his brother. “It's the money to fix Chase's truck.”

“And you have it why?”

Seth took a minute to answer, unsure of whether he was ready for the fallout from the truth, yet unwilling to lie all the same. “Jessie gave it to me.”

“Is it true you made her spend the night in jail?”

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose and wished that he hadn't left his hat on the kitchen table. If anything he could throw it at Jake—for old times' sake. Instead he took a deep breath and counted to ten. “She confessed.”

“But did she do it?”

“You know, there I was. Chase was screamin', half the town was watchin', and Jessie was confessin' . . .”

“Did she do it?”

“And then there's the whole Homecoming '08 thing. . . .”

“Yeah, but did she do it?”

Seth looked his brother square in the face and expelled a pent-up breath. “No.”

“And you made your brother's girl spend the night in jail. For a crime she didn't commit. That's cold. Even for you.”

“I was hoping she would break down and tell the truth.”

“You're talking about Jessie McAllen, right? 'Bout this tall, red hair. Kind of impulsive.”

“I know, I know. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Jake nodded and a long brotherly silence stretched between them.

“I'm glad you're here,” Jake finally said.

“Did you think I wouldn't show?”

His brother shook his head, a wistful smile barely curving up the corners of his mouth. “Nah, I'm just glad.”

“You're just hoping to get out of this whole clown thing,” Seth said as he led the way to the door.

“About that,” Jake returned, following him and turning off the office light on the way out. “Not a good joke. The clown is the only entertainment we have.”

L
angston family get-togethers usually included the entire ranch and half of the town. Wesley's party was no exception. Aside from the traditional clown that Evelyn hired every year, Jake had arranged for “pony” rides on a gentle old mare named Ginger for the younger children and a heavy plastic dummy bull had been dragged from the barn into the yard to entertain the others. The older boys were practicing their throws while the adults finished up the last of the cake and watched from the large green tent that had been set up for the occasion. Seth knew that it wouldn't be long before a few innings of softball or a not so friendly game of powder-puff football broke out.

“Uncle Seth, watch me!”

Seth smiled and waved to prove he was doing just that as Wesley tried her hand at roping the plastic bull. Wesley was all Langston, though she was the spittin' image of her mother. With her blond hair and enormous brown eyes, the only things she seemed to have gotten from her father were the slashing dimples on either side of her bow-shaped
mouth. Dressed in a red T-shirt, cutoff Wranglers, and once-shiny-but-now-covered-in-dust brown ropers, she looked every inch the tomboy she had been raised to be.

As Seth watched she settled the rope easily around the bull's head and turned back to smile at him under the brim of her straw hat.

Seth gave her two thumbs-ups just as a pixie in purple denim shorts and a pink T-shirt with a smear of chocolate icing on the front came screaming into view. Seth prided himself on knowing his community, but he had never seen this child before. Though with the current oil boom, the county was filling up with families that he had yet to meet. Her dark hair was curly and tangled, the sparkly tiara perched on top, glittering in afternoon sun. Her chocolate brown eyes were vaguely familiar. She couldn't have been more than four, her feet in their scuffed red cowboy boots pumping furiously as she ran from Denny Anderson, one of the ranch hands' boys. Denny carried a small grass snake in one hand, a wicked smile on his little-boy face.

“You stay away from me or I'll . . . I'll . . .”

“You'll what?” Denny leered at her.

“She'll sic the sheriff on you,” Seth drawled.

Denny stopped, his grin instantly falling from his face.

“Hi, Sheriff Langston,” he said sullenly, dropping the snake to the ground, where it slithered off harmlessly.

The pixie, knowing an ally when she found one, slipped behind Seth, wrapping her chubby little arms around his legs.

“Go on back to the party, Denny.”

“I was just playin'.”

“Go on.”

“It wasn't poisonous,” he added as he dragged his feet and returned to the group of boys taking turns “riding” the oil barrel that had been rigged between two trees.

“Layla?” a voice called. “Where are you?”

“Mommy,” the imp behind Seth cried. But instead of letting him go, she clutched him even tighter.

That need for a family of his own reared its ugly head once again. Was there such a thing as a male biological time clock? If so, his was currently gonging like Big Ben. Given half a chance, the pint-size cowgirl princess would have his heart for her very own. Seth looked up to greet her mother and instead found . . .

Millie Evans.

“Hi, Seth.”

The years had been good to her. Seth couldn't see much difference in the Millie he had known then and the one who faced him now. Oh, she had a few little creases at the corners of her deep brown eyes and they were filled with the wisdom that only age can bring. She was a tad curvier than he remembered, but all in all, she was the same girl he'd known practically his whole life. “I heard you were back.”

She nodded, the moment between them familiar and yet uncomfortable. Nostalgia urged him to lean in and kiss her cheek, to take her hands into his own, but too many years had passed and he stopped himself from acting on the impulse. “Layla and I got into town a couple of weeks ago.”

“She's yours?” He remembered now hearing through the grapevine that Millie had a daughter.

“Most days,” she answered with a smile, the wind stirring the ends of her dark brown hair as she twisted the obviously Layla-made macaroni necklace around the fingers of her right hand.

“I'm sorry to hear about you and . . .”

“Travis.”

Seth nodded.

Millie shrugged and let go of the necklace. It fell with a slight rustling noise against the soft cotton of her faded green T-shirt. “People get divorced all the time. Your mama tell you about that?”

“Of course.”

Millie shook her head. “She's found a reason to drive out to the ranch every day this week.”

Seth smiled. “She means well.”

“She's a great lady.”

Seth could only nod.

“I heard that you made Jessie McAllen spend the night in jail.”

“Good news travels fast.”

“So does bad news,” she murmured. “Did she do it? Did she really trash Chase's truck?”

Seth looked over to where Jessie had retreated behind the lens of her camera, snapping off frame after frame of the day's festivities. Sissy Callahan stood nearby, and judging from the tense line of Jessie's shoulders, the conversation between them was anything but friendly. “Does it matter?”

Before she could answer, a cloyingly sweet voice drifted between them.

“There you are. I swear, Seth, I've been lookin' all over the place for you.”

“Hi, Darly Jo.” Seth hoped the smile on his face was welcoming, or at the very least not too close to the grimace it really felt like. “You remember Millie Evans.”

“Actually it's Sawyer.”

Of course she'd keep her married name. Divorced or not, she had a child with Travis . . . Sawyer. But to him she'd always be just Millie Evans.

There had been a time when Seth had thought that he and Millie would get married. They dated all through high school, started at UT together, but then she had decided during their senior year that ranch life wasn't for her after all. She'd broken up with him the week before finals and eloped with a baseball player the day after commencement. Seth had thought his heart would never be the same. He'd accepted the job offer in California. Buried himself in every beach babe he could find. He had gotten over Millie. Proof positive that he'd get over Jessie too.

But more than that . . . maybe it was time to try to forget
about Jessie. Try to get a life. Maybe even get married, have babies. No doubt with a little time he could learn to love someone else. No doubt about it.

“Of course,” Darly Jo said, echoing Seth's thoughts as she nodded, then slipped her arm through his. “I've been lookin' all over the place for you.”

“So you've said.”

She sidled up close to him, as close as humanly possible, and Seth resisted the instinct to push her away even though he could feel Millie's questioning gaze on the two of them. Apparently Darly Jo was in an unusually possessive mood today. Just what he needed. His mother shoving Millie at him, Darly Jo tugging on him, and—

Just then Seth felt a pull at his legs and looked down to see Layla staring up at him, a mulish expression on her pixie face as she did her best to push him and Darly Jo apart. Darly Jo looked a bit startled, but seeing as she didn't have any children of her own, she wasn't sure how to react to the situation. She opened her mouth to speak—more likely protest—then thought better of it and instead decided to go for the “ignore it and maybe it will go away” approach.

Seth tried to hide his amusement as she tottered on the thick wedge heels of her sandals and took a step back, as Layla the Princess did everything in her little girl powers to put even more distance between them.

Note to self: give this kid anything she wants for saving me
.

“Well, I came over to see if you could give me a ride to Cattle Days next weekend,” Darly Jo said, her beauty queen smile never wavering despite Layla's efforts.

Seth tried to look chagrined and disappointed at the same time. “I'd really love to, but Millie just asked if I'd escort her.” He slipped an arm around Millie to pull her close and felt her stiffen under his unexpected touch. “For old times' sake and all.”

Darly Jo's pink-shellacked lips formed a surprised “Oh.”

Seth silently prayed that Millie wouldn't contradict him. And she didn't. She just stood there, rigid under his embrace as she looked from him to Darly Jo.

Darly Jo looked from Millie to him and back again. “I see,” she said, though her tone was not the least bit understanding. “Well, maybe some other time, then.” She allowed Layla one more small shove; then she waggled her fingers at them in farewell and headed off toward the buffet table still laden with the remnants of birthday cake and the last dregs of Jessie's famous punch.

The minute she turned, Millie stepped out from under his arm and glared at him. “What was that all about?”

Seth eyed her sheepishly. “Uh-hum, Darly Jo has a tendency to be a little—”

“I noticed,” Millie said without waiting for him to finish.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have used you that way. I'll make it up to you.”

“How's that?”

“By actually escorting you and the lovely Miss Layla here to the Cattle Days Picnic.”

But Millie was shaking her head before he could even finish.

“Why not?”

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“I think it's a great idea.”

“I love picnics,” Layla chimed in from behind him.

“Seth, I—” Millie shook her head.

“If you go with me, it'll get my mother off your back.”

At that he saw her resolve start to crumble.

“And there are rides.”

“I love rides,” Layla hollered, her boots stomping as she danced in place.

“I won't take no for an answer,” he pushed.

“Please, Mama, please, please, please.”

“How can you say no to that?” Seth teased.

“Fine,” Millie said, her tone grudging. “But you're buying.”

*   *   *

J
essie clicked off another snap and tried not to stare. Everyone knew that Seth Langston and Millie Sawyer had had a thing . . . once upon a time . . . when she was still Millie Evans. But the possessive way Seth snaked his arm around her and pulled her close had Jessie wondering how quickly the spark of that old flame could be brought back to life.

Like she cared. She blew her hair out of her face and checked the film in her camera. In the age of digital photography, she found a thrill in taking a picture and then having to wait to see the finished product. Wait to see whether she had captured the moment or missed. Wait to see if the lighting was right on film or just in the present. It was important to make sure that the film was correct and she still had enough in the old camera to keep taking pictures. Wouldn't do to run out. And it gave her something to look at besides Seth . . . and Millie . . . and Darly Jo.

Why had she never noticed that Seth was such a chick magnet?

He even had Layla, Millie's four-year-old daughter, hanging on to his every word. And his legs.

Was she surprised because she had just never thought about him that way? Or was there something different about him today? She cut her eyes up from changing the film to chance a look at him. She didn't lift her head, wouldn't want to start a load of gossip.

He smiled at something one of the adoring females said, a quick flash of even white teeth and slashing dimples.

Nope, he looked the same. So what was different?

She tossed that thought away and turned back to taking pictures. On the other side of the horse corral, what looked to be a softball game was beginning to form. She snapped off a couple of shots. Wouldn't be long before Sissy Callahan Murphy made her move and said something like
“What a shame! Coach Edwards would be soooo disappointed to know that malicious destruction of private property is all that the hours of batting practice has netted his favorite high school softball player.”

Jessie turned away and pretended not to hear, but she could feel the heat rising in her chest all the way to the tips of her ears.

Thankfully Sissy had used up all her cattiness for the day and flounced off to join the game.

Jessie had known that showing her face at Wesley's party wouldn't be a cakewalk, but she'd no idea how hard it really would end up being. She endured the not so veiled jokes and barbs, the whispers behind the hand—as if she didn't know that they were all talking about her. She just put on her game face and cowboyed up. She smiled, pretended not to hear, and kept right on serving up plates of the chocolate cake with a side of blue bubble gum ice cream. She played with the kids, took pictures, and otherwise pretended to have the most wonderful time she'd ever had at a birthday party. But enough was enough.

Jessie went to find Seth and see if he was ready to go.