Elusive Echoes (6 page)

He caught up to her at the door, snagging
her hand and tugging her back toward him. He knew better than to
move in for a straight-up confrontation. That never worked with
her. So he covered her lips with his once more and kissed her until
she went pliant against him.

"Thank you for helping today," he said when
he leaned back.

Her smile lit her eyes and there was that
flicker again. He hadn't imagined it the first time. He just didn't
know what it meant. "You did everything. Bethany wouldn't be here
if not for you."

"Mel, seriously." He couldn't resist the
temptation to play with the ends of her hair. "Before you came in I
was on the way to messing up big. You helped me get my head
together. I don't think I could have done it without you."

The flicker returned, stayed a bit longer.
Shoring up his courage, Sean touched Mel's cheek. Emotion began to
crowd his chest. "She's a beautiful baby, isn't she?"

Mel nodded, her wide eyes looking back at
him.

Sean brushed a stray tendril of hair behind
her ear. "Mel . . . have you ever thought about, maybe
having—?"

Mel's eyes went wide with alarm, then her
guard fell back in place. "Oh! Look how dark it's getting." She
pulled free and walked outside. "I really have to go. Valentine's
is going to be hopping and LeeAnn's by herself."

Sean sagged. There it was. She'd shut him
down again. He watched her leave, feeling the prick of a fresh
wound on his heart. Why was she so resistant to any type of deeper
relationship?

****

Mel kept it together while she drove away
from the ranch, tossing a wave at Sean with a synthetic smile
pasted on her face. When she got to the highway, she couldn't hold
back the hot tears. He'd looked beyond hurt when she brushed him
off. She hated it when he was hurt. Hated more that she'd been the
one to hurt him. But she was in a maze of trouble without a road
map, and no matter which direction she turned, someone was going to
be hurt.

Wind gusted, slashing rain across the
windshield. The road in front of her wavered and disappeared. Mel
didn't care. For just a second it didn't matter if she lived or
died.

The slide seemed to happen
in slow motion. She entered the curve on the last switch before
town and felt like she was on ice. Mel didn't know where she was
going, only that she was
not
heading in a forward direction anymore.

The tires hit gravel with a nauseating
crunch. The little car came to a sudden jarring stop, at a sharp
tilt, its engine stalled. The radio was playing some inane song
about a rodeo and Mel stabbed at the off button, the trembling of
her hand causing her to miss. On her third attempt, the musical
twang ceased.

A sudden hush fell over the car, broken only
by the steady drum of the rain on the car's roof and the obscene
swish-thwack of the windshield wipers. The sound of her too-rapid
heartbeat thumped in Mel's ears, and she gulped huge harsh breaths.
Purple flashes began to edge her vision and she forced her
breathing to slow. Then she leaned her head against her steering
wheel and broke into body-wracking sobs.

As the tears poured forth, rivaling the
deluge outside, Mel tried to numb her mind; tried to forget that
she loved a man who would no doubt hate her if he ever found out
the truth. And the little voice in her mind whispered that maybe
this near-miss would have been a fitting end after all.

The car door was wrenched open, blowing in
sheets of rain. Mel screamed and frantically tried to climb over to
the passenger seat, away from the open door.

"Melanie! It's DC. Are you okay?"

Sheriff Dirk Cooley, DC to most, ducked his
head inside her tiny car, seeking refuge from the relentless
downpour. His hat, covered in plastic against the weather, dripped
onto her shoulder.

As soon as Mel's heart settled out of her
throat, she nodded. "I lost control for a minute. I just need to
get the car started."

"Mel, you aren't taking this vehicle
anywhere." DC nodded toward the front of the car. "You broke the
axle."

With a wail, Mel buried her face in her
hands and felt the sobs taking over again.

"Hey now. Don't cry. Are you hurt?"

DC seemed
discomfited.
Tough
. This was just one more thing on her crap list of life. A
list that was getting too long. But it was her list and that meant
she could cry about it if that's what she wanted to do.

"No." Mel shook her head, finally looking up
at the sheriff. "I'm okay."

"Come on out of there. I'll give you a ride
home and call Blackstone to get you towed."

In a totally useless but completely
endearing act of chivalry, DC held his clipboard over Mel's head to
keep some of the rain off while he walked her to his cruiser.

"I'll be right back." He helped her settle
in the front seat. "I need to set a couple of flares."

Mel looked at the interior of the cruiser
but it was Sean's emotionally hurt face that she saw. Mel jacked
her elbow onto the armrest and cradled her forehead in one
hand.

By the time DC returned, her tears had
stopped, leaving her with a fuzzy-stuffy feeling.

DC called for the tow. Before starting the
car, he looked into Mel's face. "You sure you're okay?"

She sniffed. "I'm good."

"Your eyes are red. Are you driving under
the influence?"

Under the influence of a
breaking heart, maybe.
She sniffed again.
"It's just from crying. It was a big day."

The sheriff smiled. "I hear Sandy had her
baby, a little girl."

"Yeah." Mel smiled. "Sean delivered
her."

DC laughed. "Really? That part I didn't
hear. I can't wait to tell Rachel that one. She healthy?"

"Real healthy. And real pretty." Mel heard
the wistful quality in her voice and closed her eyes against the
emotion clouding her heart.

"Sandy and Ryan'll find life even more
adventurous now," said DC. They made the rest of the short drive to
the bar in silence.

Her hand on the door handle, Mel turned to
the sheriff. If she was to have any chance with Sean, she would
have to face her past.

"DC, do you have any idea how I can find a
black sheep?"

His only reaction was one raised eyebrow.
"Now, why do I get the feeling you're not talking about the
four-legged kind?"

Slowly she shook her head, hoping she wasn't
making a huge mistake by confiding in DC. "No, you're right. It's a
man."

Chapter Four

Catching Ricky's second speculative glance
in five minutes, Sean knew he hadn't dodged any bullets. He'd need
to play it down when he called him on it, though. The kid still
spooked easily over what anyone else would consider relatively
simple things.

"Something on your mind?"

Ricky lifted a shoulder and went back to
loading the dishwasher.

Sean rolled his eyes at Ricky's back.
Nothing was easy with this kid. He suspected what Ricky was likely
thinking, but without knowing for certain, Sean could very well
step into an even stickier situation with the boy.

Ricky dropped a plate with a clatter and
cringed although the plate remained intact. It had been a year and
a half since he'd been rescued from the abusive home he'd lived in
his whole life, but he still expected the iron fist to come down on
him for simple accidents. Sean looked at the glass in his hand.
Sometimes opening the door to discussion was worth a small
sacrifice. He waited until Ricky turned his back, then deliberately
dropped the glass, watching it shatter into several pointed
shards.

"Well, crap." He spoke matter-of-factly, as
he moved for the broom next to the pantry.

Ricky's blue eyes were wide and he glanced
over his shoulder toward the sitting room where Justin had
retired.

"Relax, kid." Sean swept the pieces into a
dustpan and pitched them in the trash. "It's just a glass."

Ricky stared at Sean for a second, opened
his mouth, and closed it again.

"Rick, you know you can talk about anything
with me, right?" Sean closed the door to the dishwasher and set it
to run. "No pressure, no judgment. If something's working at you,
we'll work it through together."

"Are you and Mel doing it?" Embarrassment
leaked like cherry-colored paint to stain the kid's freckled
face.

Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, then
dragged his hand down his face and rubbed his jaw. "No, Mel and I
aren't having sex."

"But in the stable—"

Sean blew out a long breath.
Delivering a baby and having a sex talk with a teen in the same day
was really pushing his limits. Especially since he was the McGee
brother who
wasn't
married.

"You walked in on an . . . intimate moment,
but we weren't having sex the way I think you mean." Sean shook his
head. "We haven't taken that step."

Ricky looked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I told you we could talk about
anything." He needed to do something with his shaking hands.
Pulling two sodas from the refrigerator, Sean handed one to Ricky,
opened his own, and took a long drink. His mind drifted to the cold
beer he would have had while watching Mel work. Maybe taking a
night off from sitting at the bar and wishing she'd fall in love
with him was a good thing.

Ricky started to relax. "Why aren't you
having sex with Mel?"

Very carefully, Sean swallowed the mouthful
of soda, managing not to choke in the process. Okay, this was going
to get plenty intense. He stifled a sigh and carefully set down the
can of soda.

"We haven't reached that stage." He surveyed
the teen, and decided to turn the tables a little. "So what about
you? Are you active—sexually?" Though he kept a straight face, Sean
cringed inwardly. He sounded like a condom commercial.

Ricky studied his can of soda, drawing a
finger through the condensation. Finally he lifted a shoulder in a
noncommittal gesture. If Sean had to guess, he'd say that was a no.
He hated guessing.

"Got someone you're maybe looking at?" he
asked softly.

This time Ricky turned his
face away.
Oh, joy.
No doubt that was a yes.

Sean decided to cut the boy a break. "I
didn't have sex until I was almost twenty."

Ricky's head whipped up and he stared with
incredulity. "No way," he whispered.

"My first time was with a girl I'd been
seeing for a few months, and we stayed together for about a year
before we realized we didn't have a lot of spark between us. We
worked better as friends. Turns out, we're still good friends. The
second girl I made love with was when I was twenty-one. That lasted
about six months. Turned out she hated the small town scene and
didn't actually want to live on the ranch."

"Did you love her?"

Good question.
The boy was quick. Drawing in a heavy breath, Sean
met Ricky's eyes and shook his head slowly. "I won't lie to you. I
wish I did love her. I
liked
her a lot. I tried to talk myself into falling in
love with her. And I think she wanted to love me. But if we'd
really loved each other, we would have found a way to make it
work." He paused to give his words time to sink in and give Ricky
time to ask questions. When the teen remained silent, Sean said.
"There hasn't been anyone else until Mel."

That seemed to startle Ricky. He blinked.
"You've only had two girls?"

Taking great care not to
show his negative reaction to the phrasing, Sean leaned his chair
back onto two legs. "I prefer to think of it in terms of I've had
intimate relationships with two women.
Having
a woman, a girl . . . makes me
think of marking notches on my bed. Just having sex without some
sort of relationship . . . well, the concept's always felt shallow
to me. Even if the girl says that's what she wants. So I got to
know the girl without that kind of intimacy first."

Ricky fidgeted in his chair. He concentrated
on moving his soda can in a little circle on the table. After a
long moment, he spoke without looking up. "How do you know if it's
okay?"

Sean considered the boy in front of him.
Caught now between the thoughts and feelings of childhood and the
growing interest of adult thoughts and feelings, Ricky hadn't known
the meaning of love for nearly sixteen years. He might as well be
barreling down the Interstate without a road map. Sean's heart
broke all over again.

"Every time you make love with someone,
whether it's a one-night thing or a long-term relationship, you
give up a piece of yourself to the other person." Sean took a
drink. He was so over his head. "I'm not talking about the DNA
deposit you make when you have intimate contact. When you make
love, it's about giving and receiving on more than just a physical
level. Or it should be. You both give, you both receive. And when
you do that, it's very personal. It's . . . emotional. Part of what
makes you who you are goes into it and stays with that other
person. And part of her stays with you. You don't want to do that
lightly, give yourself. You don't want to lose the sense of who you
really are. And you sure as heck don't want a woman giving you part
of herself if that part of her isn't going to be special to
you."

When the boy stared at him, Sean figured
he'd lost the kid.

But Ricky surprised him. "How do you know if
someone likes you back?"

"Does she spend time with you?"

Ricky fidgeted again, refusing to look up.
Finally, he gave a quick nod.

"How long have you been spending time
together?"

"Since summer," mumbled Ricky.

"Do you hold hands when you're
together?"