Gambling on a Dream (17 page)

Tilly left him alone. Wyatt sat in Dawn’s chair and looked over her desk with a smile. She’d always been a neat freak, and her desk reflected it. He pulled out the center drawer to reveal her pens, pencils, and all the other stuff, like a stapler and roll of tape. He closed it and looked to the stacked bins on the left side of her desk containing all of her active files. The only things sitting on top of the desk were a calendar, laptop, phone, and her coffee cup.

He picked up the bright green oversized mug and turned it upside down. A smudged
Happy Birthday, Babe
was written in black Sharpie on the bottom. He’d been surprised when he’d seen her still using the mug. With a smile, he remembered the day he’d given it to her two months after they’d moved in together.

“
Happy birthday.
”
He carried a tray of breakfast food into their bedroom.

She moaned and turned over.
“
Yeah, right.
”

He laughed and sat down beside her on the bed.
“
Oh, c’mon. You’re only thirty, not ninety.
”

Dawn glared at him, but when she looked at the tray of pancakes covered with whipped cream and a big birthday candle stuck in the middle, her face softened. She picked up the green mug of coffee and took a sip.
“
This is new.
”

“
Yep. It’s one of your birthday gifts.
”

She glanced at him.
“
One?
”

He settled the tray over her lap and leaned back against the pillows.
“
I also weaseled us a long weekend off together. I thought we’d ride the Harleys up to Chickasaw National Park in Oklahoma. I rented a cabin.
”

“
Oh, I like that idea.
”
She covered her finger with whipped cream and smeared it over his lips.
“
A lot.
”
Then she kissed him.

He couldn’t remember if she ever ate the pancakes he’d slaved over cooking. But he vividly remembered her licking whipped cream off more interesting body parts than his lips, and the amazing weekend they’d shared in the intimate little cabin.

Swallowing hard, he shook the memory away and set the cup in its place. He was here to see her files on the case, not go through her personal items.

He found the files for the case and glanced at his watch. Dawn would be leaving the hospital in a few minutes.

“You look good there. Maybe you should consider running for sheriff.”

Wyatt looked up to Chet, standing in the open doorway. He stood and picked up the files. “Nope. I know who I’m voting for.” He had to bite his tongue to keep from adding,
and it’s not you
.

Chet sat in the chair in front of Dawn’s desk. “Can’t believe someone would cut the brakes on Dawn’s truck. Any idea who it could’ve been?”

“You know we don’t.”

With a nod, Chet looked at his hand. “I heard through the grapevine Talon Blackwell was back in town. Maybe he doesn’t want his sister snooping around. Is he being brought in for questioning?”

“Talon’s not our killer.” He had to leave soon if he planned to meet Dawn at her house. He didn’t understand his need to make sure she was okay, but something drove him to take care of her.

“How do you know that for sure?”

Wyatt rounded the desk. “He’d left town to pick up his daughter from her mother.”

The way Chet’s eyes bugged out of his narrow face would have been funny if Wyatt cared what the deputy thought. “Blackwell has a kid?”

“Yeah. Cute as a button too.” Wyatt motioned toward the door. “I’m headed out. I know Tilly wants to lock up.”

Chet stood and followed him out the door. He gestured toward the files. “What you got there?”

“Case files.” Wyatt waited for Tilly to lock up, then headed for the back door to the parking lot. He glanced at Tilly and set his hat on his head. “I’ll be back.”

Tilly waved with a smile. “Tell Dawn I’ll talk to her later.”

He caught the puzzled twist on Chet’s lips as he opened the door. “Will do.”

* * * *

“Hold up, and I’ll help you out.” Dawn’s father turned off the engine of his Explorer as he looked over his shoulder at her. He knew her too well.

Sighing, Dawn let go of the back door handle and waited for him to get out from the driver’s seat and open her door. She’d won one battle already. Her parents had relented to bringing her home after leaving the hospital and not their house.

Her mother exited the passenger side and came around from behind the rig as Dawn climbed out of the back seat. She hoped her parents missed her wince as she stepped out on her left foot. She’d sprained her knee when it hit the dashboard, and it hurt like a son-of-a-gun.

The last thing she wanted was to stay with them. Talon and his daughter were camping there since his shack wasn’t any place for a kid. What a shock she’d had when he dropped the oh-this-is-my-daughter bomb. She didn’t want to subject the little girl to all of the tension surrounding her and Talon. Jessie was trying to adjust to her new family. Besides, Hunter and Chief still called the place home. But she hadn’t presented the real reason in her argument to Dad and Mom: She’d been on her own too long to move back in with her parents, even if it was temporary.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over to the house for tonight?” Mom grabbed the plastic bag holding the clothes Dawn had worn to the hospital and closed the door. A worried frown furrowed Mom’s forehead and played on her lips.

“No, Momma. I’m fine. I just want a hot bath and to watch some TV.” Which was a complete lie. She’d call the station and asked Tilly to bring the case files to her. Dawn glanced toward the front porch. A flowerpot containing a chrysanthemum had been shattered. Damn, with Taco at her parents’ for the past two nights, the raccoon visiting the barn must have gotten a little braver and come onto her porch. “Just keep Taco for one more night.”

“I’ll send Hunter over to feed your horses tomorrow.” Dad closed his door.

Before she could tell him she could take care of her animals, the rumble of an engine drew her attention down the driveway. Her heart jumped at the sight of the black Silverado's driver.

“Doesn’t he know you have to rest?” Mom twisted her lips into a frown.

Her father chuckled and pocketed his keys. “I don’t think he’s here for work, Frannie.”

Wyatt parked behind the Explorer. As he stepped out of the truck, he put his black Resistol on his head. From the looks of his leather vest and star pinned to it, he’d been working. He glanced around and seemed as much at a loss as to what he was doing there as she was. “Hey.”

“Hi. What’s going on?”

He glanced around again and walked toward her. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t rush off to work. Tilly and I have things covered, so you take as many days off as you need.”

She folded her arms and shifted her weight onto her right leg. “We have a murderer to catch.”

“You have to rest,” her mother chimed in. “You heard Dr. Forsyth. No work for at least three days.”

Dawn glared at her and headed toward her front door. “Okay. So, let’s go in. Then y’all can get out of my hair and I’ll rest.”

Wyatt grinned, causing her tummy to tumble over itself. “I’m here to make sure you do.”

Her mother took her arm as if she needed help walking. “How did you know she was out of the hospital?”

Wyatt shrugged and looked as sheepish as a little boy caught red-handed with his fingers in the cookie jar before supper. “Tilly told me when she was going to be discharged. So, I left the station in time to meet y’all here.”

He’d go through all that trouble? “You know that could be considered stalking?”

“Are you going to arrest me, Sheriff?” Wyatt grinned, moving in beside her, and put his hand on the small of her back.

She shivered, but covered the action by scowling at him. “I should.”

Her dad smirked and took her mom’s hand. “C’mon, Fran. I think Wyatt can take it from here.”

Mom glared at Dad. “I’m not leaving until I know she’s settled.”

Dawn shook her head as she climbed the steps of the porch and immediately stopped when she noticed the door ajar. “Dad, was Hunter or Talon over here this morning?”

“Hunter fed your horses, but he wouldn’t have gone inside.” Dad came up beside her. “And when your mom and I stopped by last evening to pick up a change of clothes for you, we made sure to lock up.”

Wyatt let go of her as he reached under his vest and pulled his Colt out of his shoulder holster. Her mother gasped at the sight of the gun and took Dawn’s hand to keep her from going inside.

Wyatt nodded toward her dad, who positioned himself in front of her and Frannie, then pulled the Glock he’d carried since his days as sheriff. As Wyatt slowly pushed the door open with his Colt at the ready, he stepped inside. “Oh, damn…”

Dad moved inside with Wyatt. “What the hell happened here?”

“What?” Dawn shook off her mother’s hand and entered her door. Everywhere she looked broken pieces of her life lay on the floor. The couch where she and Wyatt had sex was ripped and smashed into unrecognizable tatters. Her beautiful Cherokee and Comanche paintings, broken and cut, lay like confetti on the white fluff of the couch like in a bed of snow. Her handmade afghan her grandmother had woven for her was torn and frayed. The end tables and TV shattered as if beaten with a sledgehammer.

With a whimper, she entered the kitchen. The bright pottery dishes she’d collected over the years littered the floor in colorful shards. Even the cabinet doors weren’t spared in the small kitchen. Most of them were torn from their hinges and broken in half or splintered on the tile floor she’d laid herself when she pulled out the linoleum after she’d bought the trailer.

“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Her mother sobbed. Dawn wrapped her arm around her waist, glad she could lean on her mom. “Look at the refrigerator.”

Dawn turned and gasped. Big, black blocky letters filled the white door. They said,
The next time you won’t be so lucky, bitch
.

“The bedroom looks as bad as it does out here.” Putting away his gun, Wyatt waded through the debris in the living room from the direction of her room. He stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

She pulled her gaze away from the warning and met his narrowed eyes. “What do we do now?”

Mom wiped away tears. “That settles it. You’re coming home with us.”

“No.” Dawn leaned against the wall. She needed to sit down, but her dining chairs resembled kindling. “I can’t stay with you.”

“Nonsense.” Her mother sniffed and put her hands on her hips. “Someone wants to hurt you. We can make room for you.”

“We can’t risk putting Talon’s little girl in danger.” Dawn blinked at the stinging in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry in front of her parents and Wyatt.

“She’s right.” Her dad wiped over his mouth with the back of his shaky hand. She’d never seen him so rattled. He pointed to the fridge door. “Whoever this is, isn’t messing around. This place is turned upside down and inside out. You hit a nerve, and you have to keep hitting it, but you need to be safe.”

Mom gestured around the room. “Exactly! And we can keep her safe.”

She fought the panic threatening to overtake her by replacing it with frustration at being talked about in the third person while standing right there.

“Dawn will stay with me.”

She snapped her gaze to Wyatt. Surely, he didn’t mean…

“I think it would be the best for everyone, don’t you?” His eyes burned with an intensity she didn’t recognize.

Would it be possible to live with him and not end up in his bed?

* * * *

Wyatt called the sheriff’s station to alert them about the break in. He marveled at Dawn’s strength as she picked through her ripped and shattered belongings to determine if anything had been stolen. But then, he’d have been more surprised if she’d broken down and cried.

Her parents stood by and watched with concern and sorrow etched on their faces.

Unable to stand by and do nothing but wait for Tilly to show up, he made his way back down the short hallway to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. Dawn sat on the floor amidst the broken furniture and the debris of her clothing. The damned thugs hadn’t been satisfied with just ripping her stuff. They made sure she’d never reuse any of her clothes by dumping motor oil over them. The pungent odor burned his throat when he took a deep breath and entered the room.

She must not have heard him as she rummaged through what looked like torn bits of photos. The sob that broke loose as she picked up a dark black and white scrap of a picture had him stopping behind her.

“No.” She shook her head and shifted through the bits of old pictures faster. “Damn them!”

He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Dawn?”

She let out another sob and tears streaked her face as she fitted the jagged pieces together on her lap. The distinct fuzzy image of a sonogram took shape as she found another scrap. “Why couldn’t they leave it alone?”

The shock of her words had him letting go of her shoulder and stepping back. He stared down at the grainy, ripped photo and a plethora of emotions hit him in the gut like a roundhouse kick--anger, pain, and betrayal were the first, but then surprise and sorrow slipped through. Had she cared enough for their baby to keep the sonogram photo? Of all the things Dawn possessed, was the only thing she cried over a fuzzy picture of a child never born?

He looked away and took a deep breath. “Dawn… I’m…” What could he say?

With a sniff, she shook herself as if trying to get her emotions under their usually tight control. She stood, then wiped her eyes as she faced away from him. “Sorry. I think all of this has gotten to me.”

“Tilly and Deputy Grant are out here,” Tom called from the living room.

She cleared her throat and limped out of the room, all traces of the emotion she’d displayed completely gone. “Thanks, Dad. C’mon, let’s go figure out who would do this to me.”

Wyatt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe she didn’t care that much about the baby after all. He couldn’t bear looking at the torn photo on the floor. Turning away from the room, he followed her out into the living room.