Safely Home (19 page)

“He does.”

“I do.”

She handed the envelope to
Alex and then turned Dick’s way. “Anything else, sir?”

“No, thanks. Watching lawyers squirm is the best part of my job. Thanks for the opportunity, Sandy.”

“Any time, sir.”

Alex
slit the envelope open, eyed the approval letter, and gave a satisfied nod. “Now we can get going, at least with the preliminaries. It won’t be done until next fall, but just getting it started will make Gran breathe easier.”

“Your grandmother’s land?” Dick hiked a brow, his tone commiserative.

Alex shook his head. “An elderly friend who’s fighting cancer. The park’s going to be dedicated to her family, their legacy here.”

Dick shifted his look to the papers in
Alex’s hand. “Some legacy. Illegal dumping of toxic pollutants to uplands with distinct watershed slope properties. I’m sure her family will be so proud.”

Alex
held up a hand of caution. “They have no idea any of this occurred. No knowledge of the dumping or the level of toxins, or the necessary exclusions to do clean up and employ Super fund grants to get this right. Other than the legalities,” he jerked his head toward the sheaf of papers in his other hand, “I’ve kept this under wraps. No good will come of telling her at this stage and the clean-up will take care of any potential problems.”

“How have you explained the delay?”

Admitting this made Alex cringe. “I hedged and told her that making it parkland meant studies had to be done to show we wouldn’t adversely affect watershed and/or create a flooding effect to houses down slope.”

“Basically true and fundamentally sound. Good job, Westmore. Who’d a thought? A lawyer with a freakin’ heart.”

“Keep that to yourself,” Alex warned as he stood. “Along with this.” He nodded to the Brownfield Exclusion.

“It will be part of the public record,” Dick
advised. He stood as well. “Can’t hide that.”

“But we
don’t have to tout it,” Alex replied. “Thank you.”

“Eh.” Dick
nodded, but frowned with remorse. “I should have gotten on it sooner. You were right to be upset. Still, it made for a good mid-day show and I’d have paid good money to see you posturing outside my door, ready to pounce.”

“Sandy would have protected you.”

Dick barked a laugh. “Sandy’s my ex-wife. She probably enjoyed it more than I did, half-hoping you’d take a pop at me.”

“You work together?”

“Two kids, amicable divorce. We work well together. We don’t live well together.”

“That’s sad.”

“That’s life, Westmore.”

Alex
hoped he was wrong. Prayed he was wrong. Thoughts of Cress flashed through his mind, little warning signs popping up alongside. Could he make a difference to her? Or better yet, should he try?

What
Alex didn’t want were careless vows of love that led to things like amicable divorces ten years later. Not if he could help it.

Marriage was a
bond, a vow taken before friends and family. Before God. A serious pledge of forever. After witnessing his parents’ downfall, Alex wanted the real thing. Trust. Faith. Hope. Love. Was that so much to ask?

Lindi’s flight to Florida came to mind, only one of several break-ups he’d seen the past two years. The kid inside him, the kid who longed for normal in the thick of dysfunction, wanted the dream.

He offered Dick a hand. “Thank you. I’ll get started on this asap.”

Dick returned the handshake, affable. “You’re welcome. At this point anything that makes the voters happy, makes me happy.”

His run for the vacant state senate seat had heated in recent days as his opponent instigated a dirt-digging frenzy, a great example for why Alex shied away from the political arena. He’d rather have control from without than pretended control from within. Better all around.

A glance at his watch told him Cress would most likely be on her way back to Gran’s. On a whim, Alex dialed the diner and ordered dinner for Cress and Gran’s friends, with enough for Audra if she happened to be around. Gran’s appetite was non-existent, but the others would need a meal they didn’t have to fuss over. Chicken pot pie and salad from the diner sounded perfect.

*

“I’m not even going to think about the calories in this amazingly flaky, awesomely wonderful crust.” Stacey breathed a sigh of pleasure, twirling her fork as she chewed, relishing every bite. “Have I mentioned what a nice young man Alex Westmore is?”

“Not since the car ride home.”

“That long?” Stacey frowned. “Well, then, allow me to reiterate. The guy’s a gem.”

“Subtle again
.”

“And he lives here.”

“I figured that since he’s always underfoot.” She grinned at Stacey’s frown before asking, “Where does he live exactly?”

“You’ve never been there?”

“No. Why?”

Stacey
sent her a look that said she wasn’t born yesterday.

Cres
s flushed. “For pity’s sake… We’ve locked lips a couple of times. End of story.”

It wasn’t even close to the end of the story, and Cress
couldn’t imagine how a guy could pack that much emotion into a simple kiss, but Alex did. Wonderfully. Magically. Marvelously.

Cress put a firm lock-down on her musings before she gagged on indiscriminate use of adverbs.

She was falling for Alex Westmore. Falling hard. And she better get a handle on this before she found herself irretrievably tangled in two distinct places, here and Minneapolis.

Right
now Watkins Ridge was winning, and that was mostly due to the guy whose gentle warmth and kisses solaced her heart, her soul. Alex’s outward personality embodied everything good about the Midwest, about manhood. The sound of a car horn from the adjacent road leading into the upscale housing development spiked her doubt-o-meter.

If
Alex were so upstanding, why was Gran broke? Or was Gran just being Gran, miserly to the end?

Part of Cress
wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. Sometimes it was better to live in mild ambiguity than dig for truths that didn’t matter in the long run.

Keep telling yourself that, honey.
But don’t call me when you crash and burn.

Stacey
interrupted Cress’s current internal stand-off. “You’re feeling better.”

Cress nodded. “Much. And I’m heading to Minneapolis on Friday as planned. You’re okay here with Gran?”
She turned toward Audra. “No reservations at the B&B?”

“I kept the day open to help out. And Dad needs to do some measurements for the addition he’s planning for me. It will give the quilt-and-candle shop a separate wing and entrance and take the strain off the sitting room.”

Cress frowned. “He’s running short on time for that, isn’t he? Once the snow flies it’s tough to build.”

Audra
indicated the front room with a lift of her chin. “Depending how Gran is doing, we’ll take things as they come. No hurry, no worry.”

“I wish
things were that easy,” Cress replied. And was Audra really that easy-going or did she have a better handle on saving face than most?

“They
can be.” Stacey’s expression said more than her words. “You just have to learn to turn over the reins.”

“I tend to make mountains out of molehills.”

“Part of your control factor. You don’t like leaving anything to chance.” Stacey stood to go. “It’s a quality you share with your father.”

She didn’t want to share qualities with her father. She’d written him off years ago
. He’d abandoned her. She abandoned him. Tit for tat, but after talking with Alex last night, her grudge seemed pretty adolescent. Yes, she liked control, but then she’d gone and handed over control to James. Kind of like her father did with the bottle, once her mother had passed away. Maybe they were more alike than she wanted to admit. “I’m at a point where scrutinizing my options isn’t a bad thing.”

“Like staying or going?”

“Yes.” Cress eyed her tea glass, pretending the opaque shadows in the ice fascinated her. “Part of me wants to stay, but I want to stay for the right reasons. Not because I’m afraid to go back. Does that make any sense?”

“Perfect sense.”
Stacey leaned forward and laid a hand on Cress’s arm. “Your father and I would love for you to make a life here, get married, have kids and make me a very young step-grandmother. But more than any of that we want you happy. Content. Safe. And yes, I mean your father, too, even though the two of you are beyond stubborn and somewhat foolish. Police work here isn’t a picnic, but at least it’s here. And it’s not as rife with negatives as police work in the big cities these days.”

Stacey was
right on that score. Big city police work had more than its share of registered incorrigibles. A stint in a lower-crime area didn’t sound boring like it would have five years back. It sounded nice, actually. Normal. Downright possible.

Stacey
arched a brow at Cress’s smile. “Whatever’s going on, I want you to know I fully approve if only to see you smile like that more often. We miss your smiles, Cress.”

Cress surprised her with a hug, a move the rough and tough MPD
detective hadn’t done often enough it seemed. “Then I’ll try and smile more often.”

Stacey
toasted that promise with a wink. “From what I’ve been seeing, I don’t think you’ll have to try all that hard.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cress studied Kiera’s photo spread, then handed the upscale magazine to Audra as she leaned against the fence rail. “Check the shot from behind. Whaddya think? Padding or no padding?”

Audra eyed the photos from various angles, then nodded. “In this, this and this, yes. Not this one. That skirt’s so tight you can see right through it and what
I’m seeing is all Kiera.”

Cress agreed. “And
she and the dress are gorgeous.”

“I guess. If you don’t like breathing. Cress, do you know how tight they truss those things to get that look? A corset would be way more comfortable.”

“And almost as sexy.”

“
I could hate her except I don’t.”

Cress laughed and swept Audra’s typical farm clothes a look of
exaggerated appreciation. “But what normal, red-blooded American guy isn’t attracted to,” she waved a hand Audra’s way, her gaze skimming top to bottom, then back, “all that?”

“Dirty jeans, mucked-up boots, flannel shirt and,” Audra tipped back her cowboy hat, grinning, “the greatest hat on earth.”

“Only you can wear a John Wayne repro and get away with it.” Cress eyed the hat, then her sister. “How much did that thing set you back?”

“
Enough to make me fully appreciate it,” Audra shot back, keeping her finances to herself. “It was my reward for making a go of this place for five years. I promised myself a decadent reward on my five-year entrepreneurial anniversary.”

“And you bought a hat?” Cress shook her head, teasing. “There wasn’t a man available? A cache of amazing chocolate? A Caribbean cruise? Because I’m going to bet there was, and probably for less than that hat cost.”

Audra grinned, jumped the fence rail and thumbed the brim. “Rooster Cogburn, True Grit, one of the Duke’s finest.”

“Over budget, over-acted and overdone,”
Cress corrected. “And you’re offering unconditional support to a guy famed for saying, ‘women have the right to work anywhere they want, as long as they have dinner ready when you get home’.”

“Since I love to cook, that isn’t a problem.” Audra quirked a grin before she sighed. “Available men. That’s a problem.”
Her cell phone interrupted them with the notes of Blake Shelton’s latest hit. “Customer. Gotta take this.”

“You can take the girl out of the honky tonk…”

Audra tossed her an impudent over-the-shoulder look as she strode away, hat cocked, her swagger sure and self-confident, a woman who knew where she was going and how to get there. Except for the whole guy thing.

Cress wanted that. Shoot, she thought she had that, then realized she was living an illusion, a made-for-TV life in the Twin Cities.

Now she wanted reality. Where better to find that than in her own backyard, very Dorothy-esque?

Brandywood whinnied, as if wondering what she was doing, why all the down time? She soothed a hand across his head, her touch firm and sure. “All right, old man, let’s take a ride, hmm?” She led him out of the paddock, closed the gate, and mounted him with ease, their relationship growing day by day.

She’d miss him if she returned to the city. She’d miss this time, this communion with a good horse. The MPD had a mounted patrol, but gaining a spot on the twenty-plus man roster wasn’t easy. And cruising crowded venues like street fairs, carnivals, parades and festivals wasn’t the same as taking off cross lots on Brandywood’s back, his gentle gait easy. She never had to hold him back on these easy rides. His touchy leg kept him to a walk, although the vet pronounced him fit the week before.

Still, Cress t
rusted the horse to know his limits. How she wished she could say the same about herself.

Her cell phone interrupted her musings, the notes from Bonnie Tyler’s
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” jerking her into cop mode. She scanned the readout, surprised.

Alex
.

She should have known. She snapped the phone to her ear, keeping Brandywood headed along the woods’ edge. “Tampering with other people’s cell phones is against the law.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never touched your cell phone, and don’t most normal people answer the phone with a simple ‘hello’?”

Then it had to be Audra.

She’d kill her, plain and simple. Except…

The song was a perfect rendering of how grounded Alex made her feel, like no matter what she said, did or tried, he’d be there to cushion the fall, take the blow, keep her steady and strong. Her port in the storm. Which was silly, of course, because she’d only been there a few weeks. And yet, not silly at all. “Sorry, Counselor. My sister must be playing matchmaker.”

“More reason to love her.”
Alex’s voice held that easy amenability that went along with being very smart and stinking rich, a casual aplomb that never said ‘look at me’. It didn’t have to, and that was a huge change from the kid Alex had been thirty years before.

But she’d been fooled
before. Once burned, twice careful. So even though every girl instinct told her to forget caution and trust her heart, her more knowledgeable cop side put on the brakes again. “What’s up?”

“Not a thing. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

Oh, crap. Silly romantic stuff would not be her undoing, it would not! She wasn’t a girly-girl, never had been, although she did clean up nice when she needed to, but those times were on an occasion-only basis.

“
Seriously, Alex? That’s why you called?”

“Very seriously
. I was wondering if you’d like to take a drive out to my almost finished new house tonight. Look around.”

See his new house versus freezing cauliflower?
Drat. “I can’t, I promised Gran I’d freeze the cauliflower and broccoli with her tonight.”

Her refusal didn’t seem to faze him. “Another time, then. We’re still good to go tomorrow? You haven’t chickened out?”

Did he put her back up on purpose? Most likely. “I don’t chicken out, Counselor. Ever.”

“Which can be good or bad depending on the situation. I’ll pick you up at nine, okay? Give you time to get Gran settled.”

“You can’t come by tonight?”

He hesitated, then declined, regret shading his voice. “I’ve got some things that have to get done at the house before the final inspection. Nothing major, but time consuming and I want to be able to move in next week. I need that certificate of occupancy first, though. “

“I understand.”

*

Did she? Alex wasn’t sure, but he’d promised himself to let her find her way to him. Pull and tug on a stubborn horse? All you got was a stubborn horse, feet planted firm.

But if you let the horse come to you with a sugar cube here, a pat on the head there? He’ll follow you forever, a trusted friend and confidant.

And while Cress was way better smelling than a horse, the methodology paralleled. He didn’t want Cress nudged his way, he wanted her of her own volition, heart and soul. “Good,” he told her. “Maybe you can come out this weekend sometime. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too. Gotta go. Appointment coming in.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.

*

“You look good, Detective.” Alex’s gaze skimmed top to bottom before he added a complimentary whistle of appreciation. “I don’t know that a country boy like me can take such a fine lookin’ gal into the city and entertain hopes of bringing her back to little ol’ Watkins Ridge.”

“Country boys don’t wear designer polos and Cole Haan jackets,” she corrected as she climbed into the front seat of his SUV the next morning. “But the styling
Land Rover totally works.”

“Including the leather seats? Warmed in the winter, by the way.”

“Bragging, Counselor?” She arched him a teasing look as he settled himself in the driver’s seat, adjusting sunglasses that probably cost more than her monthly apartment rent.

He flashed a grin her way as he backed out of Gran’s driveway. “A little. Just want you aware that I know how to take care of nice things.”

“Really?” She grinned and dipped her chin to adjust the radio to a station that didn’t sound like something out of an opera house. “And the elevator music?”

He growled, reached over, withdrew the CD and waved a hand toward the console between them. “Lots of stuff in there besides the changing radio stations as we head west.”

“The Beatles, Celtic Woman, Best Hits of the Sixties, Seventies and Eighties and Alvin and the Chipmunks.” She arced him a brow of appreciation. “Eclectic.”

He dropped the sunglasses with one finger at the last stoplight bordering town and winked. “Something for everyone, depending on who’s riding shotgun.”

“Boy Scout preparedness. How lovely. Why do I suddenly feel downgraded to chick-of-the-hour? Or day, maybe, if I was feeling generous and I’m not.”

He kept his gaze trained on the road, shifting gears as he headed for I-94
. “You’re lashing out because you’re nervous. It would be fine with me if you decide to stop that at any time.”

She flushed, knowing he was right, wishing he wasn’t and a little aggravated that he already knew her that well while she was just beginning to see the real
Alex. If this was, indeed, the real thing.

“This,” he held the Celtic CD case aloft, “is my mother’s favorite.
Cruz is big on The Beatles, knows way more about them and their music than any normal human being should, and this one,” he raised up Alvin and Company, “keeps Aiden and Nick singing and laughing when I’ve got them aboard.” He set the CD down and negotiated the turn onto the interstate. “Feeling less threatened?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed, applied the brake as they hit a traffic bottleneck, leaned over and feathered a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve got your back, you know. Even though you don’t want or need anyone to cover you.”

“Am
I that transparent?”

“Maybe only to me?” He thought a moment, eased into the acceleration lane when it was his turn and hit the gas. “No, you’re right. You’re fairly obvious.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

She laughed, remembering her nights with Aiden and Nick. “Okay, I am nervous. I admit it.”

He sent her a look that underscored the admission. “You trust Carl?”

“With my life.”

“Then what’s pushing your buttons? Proximity to the old boyfriend?” He said it easily, as if they’d talked about James before this, as if he knew what she’d gone through, put up with.

But he couldn’t.

Could he?

No, she decided. Alex barely knew her, he wasn’t a trained detective, and she’d held her cards close to her chest. He couldn’t possibly know. “I have no intention of seeing him.”

“Should you?”
Alex asked the question as he melded into the quick-flowing west-bound lanes. “Would it help, Cress?”

The soft note of worry suggested he knew too much. Wishing she had nothing to hide, no bridges to burn, no scars to heal, she turned her face outward, watching farm fields zip past, each passing tree marking her return to reckoning.

A big broad hand covered hers. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

Her eyes welled at the concern, the pledge. A big part of her wanted to trust, to believe in the
Alex she saw, the man who offered shelter from the storm, but her track record suggested she wasn’t the best judge of character. And she couldn’t afford any more mistakes. Her current levels of mental anguish went well beyond the norm. She knew that. But figuring out how to fix herself?

A whole other thing.

A tissue found its way into her lap. “Dry your eyes, breathe through your nose, and take potshots at me. That’s always made you feel better in the past.”

She blotted her eyes, blew her
nose, sucked a deep breath and nodded. “True enough. Okay, music will help. And while I’m a huge Alvin and the Chipmunks fan, I think a little Celtic Woman would be just the ticket.”

He flashed her a smile. “That’s my girl.”

She ducked her head, enjoying the inference way too much. When she was with Alex, her world righted itself. Alex’s self-assuredness, easy faith and hope were a pillar of strength.

But on her own she free-fell into a vat of self-doubt and self-incrimination. She prayed seeing Carl would help. Logically it made sense, but Cress understood what she wasn’t willing to say. The shame of her relationship with James
lay at the core of her stress, underscored by her disregard for her father, a guy who’d made bad mistakes, but rose above them, eventually. Where did forgiveness fit into all of this? How long was too long to hold a grudge?

Seventy times seven.

She knew the old scriptural saying, and she’d laughed at it in the past. Who would put themselves into the position of forgiving someone that often?

But maybe it wasn’t stupid. Maybe putting yourself above the negative was the s
tep toward grace she longed for. Could she be that person and still be herself? Maybe talking with Carl would help her perspective. It had worked in the past, despite the fact that she hadn’t heeded Carl’s warnings.