To Be a Family (Harlequin Superromance) (9 page)

“Thanks for the advice.” She turned the key in the ignition and
drove off. She might—
might
—be able to forgive. But
forget? Not possible. That would be like forgetting she’d almost died from
breast cancer.

But maybe she had been too pushy over John’s handling of Tuti
in the tree. He had gotten her down safely. And Tuti had certainly learned a
lesson. It was clear from the way she held on to John. And she’d spoken her
first words since coming to Australia. Maybe he deserved more credit than she
was giving him. The least she could do would be to tell him so. That wasn’t just
an excuse to call him. She was simply being fair-minded.

* * *

“
A
IS
FOR
APPLE
.”
John pointed to the picture in the early-learning book Katie had sent home with
Tuti. He held up a shiny red piece of real fruit. “Say it. Apple.”

Tuti rested her small hand on his thigh and snuggled closer on
the couch. She wore purple leggings and a pink tunic and purple ribbons on her
pigtails. “Ap-ple.”

Before the tree incident she’d been affectionate but not
clingy. Now she was glued to his side. And he was okay with that. She was right
where he could keep her safe.

“I like to eat apples.” John took a bite and handed the fruit
to the girl.

“I…like—”

“To eat…” he prompted.

“—ap-ple.” Tuti glanced up, clearly hoping he would be
pleased.

He gave her a big smile. “Excellent.” His phone rang. “Excuse
me, honey.” He grabbed his phone off the coffee table. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Katie.”

“Hey.” He pressed the phone hard to his ear as if that would
bring
her
closer. Despite seeing her several times a
week when she dropped off Tuti they didn’t call each other up to chat on the
phone. “Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday.” She hesitated.
“Sometimes I can be a bit of a know-it-all when it comes to kids. You did a
great job getting Tuti out of the tree.”

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “She’s right here. Do you want
to say hi?”

“I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

“We’re practicing our reading.”

“On a Friday night. Good for you, Daddy.”

He had to chuckle. Once upon a time he would have been painting
the town red. Oddly, he didn’t miss the nightlife or the women. Katie was right.
His bedroom had been a revolving door. But if these women were so fascinating,
why hadn’t he settled down with one?

“Did Tuti suffer any ill effects from her fright?” Katie
added.

“She’s fine.” He was the one who’d woken in the wee hours from
a nightmare of her falling out of the tree. He’d lain there with his heart
pounding, wondering if she wouldn’t be better off in Bali. That’s when he’d
realized how precious she’d become to him. He was pleased she’d started talking.
He hoped that meant she was finally settling in.

“Here she is.” He passed the phone to Tuti and watched her face
light up at the sound of Katie’s voice.

He was feeling kind of warm and fuzzy himself. Katie had called
him to apologize. And for a little chat. Not to arrange a time for Tuti’s lesson
or to discuss school. Just to talk. It meant a lot. It meant they were friends.
It was a start.

Maybe with time they could be more than friends again. After
all, they’d just been pals at the beginning. She’d tagged along when he and
Riley had gone exploring. He’d treated Katie as if she was his own kid sister.
Then she’d started to grow up, develop into a young woman and he began to see
her in a different light. Then one day Riley had a bad cold and it had been just
him and Katie hanging out. Without her brother around, John had been bolder.
He’d kissed her beneath the big oak tree at his family home. From that day on
he’d been smitten.

Tuti said good-night and handed the phone back to him.

“Katie, are you still there?”

“I’m here. I should let you go…”

“How’s the book coming along?” he asked, to keep her
talking.

“Not too bad. I’m taking a break tomorrow to go mountain bike
riding.” She hesitated. “Would you like to come with me?”

Damn. If only she’d asked him a week ago. “I can’t. I’m taking
part in a police operation. You’re not still going on your own, are you?”

“Yes.” There was a note of defiance in her tone. Then she
softened. “But I’m checking in with Riley so don’t worry.”

“
Bapa
read!” Tuti commanded,
finally fed up with waiting.

“Coming, sweetheart.” To Katie, he added, “I have to go. You be
careful. Don’t go off the trail—”

“Good night, John.”

The sweet lilt of her voice lingered in his ears as he settled
onto the couch and Tuti continued her halted reading. He corrected and
encouraged her, stroking her pigtail from elastic to wispy tip.

He hoped Katie would be cautious. He hated that he didn’t have
any say in her life nowadays. But then, he’d thrown away his chance at that. His
life was changing in so many ways—Tuti, another chance with Katie—if he didn’t
blow it. If she didn’t push him away. For the first time in years he had a
glimpse of the life he’d always longed for.

* * *

T
HE
PAVED
PATH
ended at a farm gate.
Katie straddled her bike, feet planted on the ground and consulted the map. The
trail wound over a grassy paddock, along a stream, through the woods, then up a
hill to join a second trail that would lead her back to the road. Easy peasy,
even for a novice like her.

She got off her bike and walked it through the gate, shutting
it securely behind her. At the bottom of the field a herd of black cows grazed
peacefully. She adjusted her helmet and scoped out which of the two rutted
tracks looked like the smoothest ride down the bumpy slope.

She set off on the left track, jolting along. Yessiree, this
was great. Lately her life had become tame. Learning new skills was what kept
life interesting.

Red Hill was wetter than Summerside. It had rained here
recently—heavily by the looks of the thick mud and long, deep puddles ahead. On
either side of the track were broad stretches of waterlogged grass. She hoped
she wasn’t about to get a “crash” course in mountain biking.

As curious cows chewed cud and watched, Katie approached the
first big wet area cautiously. Would her bike bog down, throwing her off? Would
her wheels slip out from under her?

Not knowing what would happen was something she hadn’t
experienced for a long time. It threw her, mentally. She had a split second to
decide what to do. Then she realized there was no decision to be made. She
couldn’t go around, she couldn’t go over. She had no choice but to go
through.

The bike didn’t bog down. The wheels didn’t slide out from
under her. The cows didn’t laugh. Well, they might have smiled a little at her
wide goofy grin. This was so great. She’d accomplished something new!

As she progressed along the track, the next puddle and patch of
mud weren’t quite so intimidating. Each time she learned a little more about how
her bike would respond.

She stopped for a break beside the swift-running stream,
swelled by the recent rainfall, and sat on the bank beneath a tree to eat an
orange. Just getting out in the fresh air was a good idea. Being by herself
didn’t bother her. She spent so much time with her students and the other
teachers that the silence of the bush, the quiet trickle of the stream and the
birdcalls were peaceful.

John would love this
.

The thought stopped her. She hadn’t come out here to relive
their glory days. She’d come to do something on her own. But he’d been on her
mind a lot lately. She blushed a little to think she’d called him last night.
He’d
sounded
glad to hear from her. She hoped he
wouldn’t read more into it than she intended. Friends rang each other up. That’s
all her call was about. And to apologize.

Since John didn’t seem to want to leave Summerside any more
than she did, chances were good that he would always be in her life one way or
another. She’d done a pretty good job of denying that for the past seven years
but it was time to get used to the notion. Make peace with his presence in her
life. Forgive and forget, as Riley said. Be a bit nicer to John than she had
been.

Last night’s phone call had been a start. That didn’t mean she
was going to get involved with him. No sir, she wasn’t going to allow herself to
fall in love again. But that was no reason to hate him, either. Life was too
short, too fragile, to waste on negative emotions. She of all people should know
that.

It wasn’t surprising she should be attracted to him. He was
hot, there was no denying it. And he was a good guy. He didn’t have a constant
stream of girlfriends because he was a troll and a jerk. As long as she didn’t
give in to the attraction or let it build they should be able to be friends.

She took a last sip of water, replaced the drink bottle in its
holster and set off along the trail. More cows grazed in the sunny patches
between the tall trees. The trees gave way to another grassy field. Here was the
hill, bigger than it appeared on the map. She came to a halt. No way she could
ride up that. It was too steep.

Really? What were all those warrior poses in yoga for if not to
develop strong quad muscles? Of course she was going up that hill.

CHAPTER SEVEN

J
OHN
TAPPED
THE
steering wheel of his
white SUV impatiently, hating that instead of taking an active role in the raid
on Nick Moresco’s beach house he was stuck watching from the sidelines. The
dilapidated weatherboard with the flat roof and peeling paint was almost
obscured by a thick stand of ti trees. Somewhere in the bush behind the house,
Paula and Riley crouched.

Part of being a good leader meant training his men and women
then stepping back and allowing them the freedom and responsibility to do their
job. Paula, with Riley as second in command, was in charge. She’d earned it and
she was more than capable. But John couldn’t help missing the old days when he
would have been suited up, ready to storm the house. There wasn’t much
difference between sitting behind his desk doing paperwork and sitting in a
vehicle waiting for others to bring in the bad guys.

He glanced at his watch. Katie was probably on the bike trails
right about now. Part of him wished he’d gone with her instead of watching
others carry out the op. But he’d committed to being here and he had to follow
through.

Over the radio came Paula’s terse back-and-forth with the Force
Response Unit officers who were decked out in full riot gear with bulletproof
vests, helmets and various weapons, including Tasers and shotguns. In a clearing
thirty meters away, the team of four paced outside their black 4WD vehicles,
awaiting orders.

Paula and Riley had been after Nick Moresco for five months.
There had been many false trails and near misses. Paula was convinced Moresco
was manufacturing crystal methamphetamine despite not having found any concrete
evidence thus far. If there was no meth kitchen inside the house John would have
to consider calling a halt to the investigation. Other issues needed the
department’s attention.

The radio went quiet. Through the open car window he sniffed
the air for the rank odor that came from the chemical reaction. Nothing he could
detect but the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. Paula had a lot at
stake—months of investigation, regaining her detective status, putting away the
criminal who threatened her son…

The radio crackled to life.

John sat up, alert.

“On the count of three,” Paula said.

The four black-suited men readied their weapons.

John got out of the car, took a couple of steps, his gaze
focused on the Force Response team. Adrenaline poured through his veins, giving
him a rush of energy.

“One, two,” Paula began. “Three…”

The men charged through the ti trees. A second later came the
sound of a door splintering, shouting, glass breaking.

John savagely kicked a stone out of his way. There was no point
wishing he could change his decision to move into management. Beat cops didn’t
make much money. He had Tuti to think of, her education to save for. A bigger
house with a backyard would be good, too.

He couldn’t even complain to anyone. He felt guilty just
bitching to himself. He had a great job. And it wasn’t as if he couldn’t do the
work. He had a knack for leadership and for seeing the big picture when it came
to planning and policy.

Over the radio Paula yelled at someone to freeze. He glanced
through the trees, itching to follow them into the house. The problem was, he
didn’t just want to be the ringmaster. He also wanted to be the lion tamer, the
trapeze artist and the damn clown all rolled into one.

* * *

K
ATIE
TOOK
A
RUN
at the hill. Initial momentum
carried her a third of the way. The path petered out. She pushed hard, standing
on the pedals, struggling and straining to ride up the lumpy sloping ground. A
few meters from the top her bike simply stopped dead. Her feet hit the ground
and she leaned on the handlebars, panting.

She hadn’t made it to the top. But she’d gone farther than
she’d expected.

She got off and pushed the bike the rest of the way to the top.
At least once she was over this hard bit the rest of the trail looked easy.
Puffing from the exertion, she walked across the top of the hill and looked down
the other side, expecting to see a well-worn path that would take her beside the
stream back to the road in a big loop.

Oh, hell. The swollen stream flooded the trail for as far as
she could see. It looked deep, too deep for her bike. It took her a moment to
process the ramifications but finally it sank in. She had no choice but to
go…gulp…down the long, steep hill she’d just climbed.

She turned around and walked to study the slope. For a good ten
minutes she tried to plot an easy way to ride down. If anything, it looked
steeper than when she’d climbed it. And now she knew the long grass hid holes
and fallen branches and rocks. She could kill herself going down there.

But what was she going to do, walk down like a wuss? Have John
say, I told you so?

He didn’t have to know. No one had to know. The cows wouldn’t
tell.

She would know. And how could she put this in a book if she
didn’t know how Lizzy felt when she was being brave? Imagination was wonderful,
but there were times when it was no match for reality.

She started slowly down the hill, applying both brakes,
carefully weaving in and out of obstacles. Twice she stopped and wiped the sweat
off her forehead even though it wasn’t hot. Each time she had to force herself
to get back on the bike.

Halfway down she hit a log hidden in the grass. Instinctively
she rose on the pedals, lifted the handlebars and sort of hopped over. Wow. She
didn’t know she could do that and remain upright.

Then something flipped in her brain. She could do this. She
just had to have faith in herself, tap into abilities she didn’t know she
possessed. Unclenching her white knuckles, she released the brakes and started
pedaling. Soon she was flying down the hill, standing on the pedals, bouncing
and jolting over the rough ground, scared out of her wits but excited beyond
anything.

Whoo-hoo! She felt like a kid again, with a
top-of-the-roller-coaster giddiness she hadn’t experienced for years, maybe
decades. Like a kid, she was living from second to second. The sky seemed a
brighter blue. Every blade of grass stood out. The faint scents of wildflowers
mingled with cowpats on the breeze blowing through her hair.

She threw back her head and let out an exultant laugh.

Thunk
. Her bike hit a rock,
stopping dead. Her cry of delight turned to a wail as she flew over the
handlebars. The ground rushed up to meet her. Her shoulder hit first, a glancing
blow before she came down hard on her foot. Her ankle twisted beneath her. Pain
lanced through her leg as she rolled to a halt.

Winded and nauseous, she lay in the grass and mud, her cheek
pressed to the sloping earth, struggling to regain her breath. In her peripheral
vision she could see the back wheel of her overturned bike spinning uselessly
against the blue sky.

She tried to move her leg. Spots danced before her eyes as
another jolt of pain sliced through her ankle. Taking a deep breath, she slowly
pushed herself to a seated position. Her foot was twisted at a weird angle. With
her hands she turned it back to normal. The throbbing began. Gingerly she felt
the bones but it was already starting to swell. Whether it was broken or not,
clearly she wasn’t going to be able to ride out of here.

She felt in her vest pocket for her phone then paused. Lizzy
wouldn’t call for help. Lizzy would limp along with Monkey making cheeky
comments as he swung from branch to branch above her head, alternately teasing
and encouraging.

Monkey wasn’t here. She was on her own.

The grassy paddock stretched out before her. She wasn’t a
character in a book. Nor was she stupid. The distance was impossible with her
ankle so painful. With a groan for the ribbing she would get from Riley and the
scolding from John, she punched in her brother’s speed dial number.

* * *

P
AULA
STRODE
OUT
of the bushes surrounding the house to where John paced beside his
vehicle.

“Moresco isn’t in there.” She was perspiring beneath her heavy
gear and breathing hard, her voice tight with frustration. “But I’ve arrested
two male suspects on charges of illegal drug manufacturing.”

“Arrested,” John repeated. “You mean…”

“They were cooking. The whole house has been turned into a meth
kitchen and packaging facility.” Now her satisfaction came through. “There are
bags of the stuff, stockpiled, ready to be distributed. This is a large scale,
sophisticated operation, not backyard hoodlums trying to make a few bucks.”

“I’ll call the divisional van to take those clowns away,” John
said, reaching for the radio phone. “And I’ll get someone to take a sample into
the lab ASAP. We need to match the crystals with the ice sold in Summerside.”
His role, even in the field, was administrative. “What’s happening now?”

“Riley’s cordoning off the site to keep out neighborhood
busybodies. Then we’re going to search the house for something tangible to link
Moresco to this.”

“The house is in his grandmother’s name. You’re bound to find
other links. Don’t worry. We’ll put his ass behind bars.”

“Damn straight, we will. Boss.”

From the pile of jackets in the backseat came the sound of a
phone ringing. “Sounds like Riley’s ring tone,” Paula said. “Do you mind seeing
who it is? He’s expecting Katie to check in when she finished her bike
ride.”

John fumbled through jacket pockets until he found the phone.
“Hello?”

“John? I called Riley.” Katie’s voice was tight, laced with
pain.

“He’s in the middle of something. Are you all right?”

“I took a tumble, twisted my ankle. It’s no big deal—”

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you.”

“Red Hill. The bike trail that runs past Koo Wee Creek.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t move.” He hung up and
turned to Paula. “She’s hurt her ankle. Tell Riley not to worry. I’ll go pick
her up.”

Before he left, John organized the support crew, calling the
lab and the divisional van to take away the prisoners. He pulled in Jackson from
off duty to take his place as external coordinator, even though there was little
left to do. As soon as Jackson rocked up, John took off for Red Hill, driving
like a bat out of hell.

This was his fault. He’d teased her about not having adventures
and running out of story ideas. He’d more or less forced her to try to prove
something. He should have insisted she wait until he could go with her. If
anything happened, if her ankle was worse than she was saying, he would never
forgive himself.

This time he would be there for her when she needed him.
Whether she liked it or not.

* * *

K
ATIE
ENDED
THE
call.
Damn. Why couldn’t Riley have answered his phone? Why did John have to be the
one to come riding to her rescue? Could her humiliation be more complete? She’d
wanted to show him—and herself, of course—she could be strong and adventurous.
Instead, she’d made a fool of herself.
I told you
so,
he would say. Then he’d quote police statistics about how many
idiots broke their necks on mountain bikes every year.

She hobbled to a large rock at the side of the track. Her
running shoe was cutting into her swollen left foot. She loosened the laces and
winced at the angry purple bruise.

The sun had sunk below the trees and the air was getting
chilly. All she wore was a T-shirt beneath a fleece vest. She rubbed the goose
bumps on her bare arms. The cows were coming out of the trees and plodding up
the hill to their barn. She was sorry to see them leave.

Dusk was rapidly falling. A couple of kangaroos hopped out of
the bushes to graze. She checked her watch—nearly half an hour since she’d
spoken to John—and strained her eyes to the distant gate. Her ankle throbbed and
was hot to the touch. She propped it up on the rock to take the pressure
off.

Then she heard a car stop. A door opened and closed. A
flashlight bounced across the field. John called, “Katie!”

She scrabbled to her feet, leaning on her good leg, and waved.
“Over here!”

The flashlight beam bobbed across the grass. Below the light
strode a pair of long legs.

She’d never been so relieved to see anyone in her life. “Thanks
for coming.”

John held the flashlight in his mouth and crouched in front of
her to gently probe her ankle. She winced at his touch but his fingers were cool
against her hot, swollen skin. “You need to ice that as soon as possible.”

“First I need to get out of here,” Katie said. “How are we
going to do this? I was thinking I could sit on the bicycle seat and you could
push me—”

“Too slow. Hold this.” He handed her the flashlight. Then he
put an arm around her waist, another below her legs, and stood, swinging her off
the rock and into his arms.

Startled, she yelped. “Hey, put me down! What about my
bike?”

“I’ll send Riley for it later. Shine the light on the path.” He
adjusted his grip on her, fingers tight against her thigh. “Put your arm around
my neck so you don’t bounce so much. And relax. You’re not going to fall.”

She didn’t want to put her arms around his neck, or relax into
his embrace. It was too tempting. His arms were strong and warm, his chest a
solid wall for her weary head. But she could feel his anger even though he
wasn’t saying anything. Clearly he thought she’d brought this on herself.

And being carried made her feel helpless. She hated feeling
unable to control her own destiny. It brought back the days when she was sick
from chemotherapy and couldn’t do anything for herself.