FOR THE CHILDREN Page 16

  As he locked the door behind her, his treacherous heart told him the same thing.

  Five minutes later he drove carefully down the rutted road, watching for trouble. He would not be surprised again. He'd screwed up too many times on this case already. If someone waited for them in the shadows by the side of the road, he would be prepared.

  The headlights illuminated the ruts in the gravel road and nothing else. The rearview mirror brightened as the first pink fingers of dawn spread over the mountains beyond the lake, but he didn't look back to see the sunrise. Nothing mattered right now besides getting on the road safely, without being seen or followed.

  When he reached the spot where Shea and Devlin's house was visible from the road, he stopped and watched for a moment Lights were on in the house, but there were no signs of anything unusual. And there were no signs that anyone had followed him.

  Easing the truck back into gear, he roiled down the hill, coasting to a stop outside the house. Before he could knock on the door, Shea stepped out into the gloom of dawn.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked in a low voice.

  "Did Dev tell you what happened yesterday?"

  She shook her head. "He's too busy with Becca Johnson's situation to even come home. He's been staying in town."

  "The men who are after the girls found us at the cabin." He suppressed the anger at himself. It wouldn't help Abby and the girls now. "So we're going into town. It'll be easier for Dev and his deputies if we're closer. And we'll have more sets of eyes to watch for strangers."

  Shea leaned into the window on Abby's side of the truck. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"

  Damien saw the brief look of surprise that flashed over Abby's face before she got out of the truck. "Thank you," she said quietly. She hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and hugged Shea. "Thank you for all you've done already. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't let us stay in your cabin."

  Shea gripped her arms. "Damien would have thought of something else. You can trust him, you know. He won't let you down."

  "I know that."

  Something seemed to pass between the two women, then Shea stepped backward. "Let's get you organized," she said briskly. "I'll get your car and we'll have you on your way in a few minutes."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  "Cameron doesn't seem like a typical place for a second home."

  Damien felt her gaze on him as he drove toward town, and for a moment he was tempted to give her a meaningless, vague answer—that he'd passed through the town once on vacation, that he'd liked the atmosphere. Both answers would have been true enough, but they weren't the whole truth. And suddenly he wanted Abby to know. She had trusted him with her life and the lives of her nieces. He could tell her the truth about Cameron.

  "It's not. My wife grew up there. When she inherited a house in the town, it seemed like the perfect place for a second home."

  He felt her shock in the silence that suddenly filled the car. "I didn't know you were married," she said carefully after a long pause.

  "I'm not." His words were flat and final. "She died three years ago."

  Her sharp intake of breath echoed in the car. "I'm sorry. Damien. I shouldn't have asked."

  "It's a legitimate question after we've made love. You should have asked earlier." He hoped he sounded sufficiently jaded. Maybe if he insulted her deeply enough, she'd stop looking at him with that softness in her eyes.

  "I never thought you would make love to me if you were still married. I know you have too much integrity for that."

  "If I had that much integrity, I never would have touched you in the first place," he said harshly. "Remember that, Abby."

  "You're too hard on yourself," she said, so quietly that he barely heard her. "Caring about someone could never be wrong. No one was hurt because we made love, Damien."

  Go ahead, he told himself. Tell her that you don't care about her. It would be the easiest way to solve the problem. She would be deeply wounded and wouldn't come near him again. He could solve this case without the distraction of Abby and get on with his life.

  But he couldn't do it. He couldn't open his mouth and lie to her in a way that would guarantee she would be hurt, so he gripped the steering wheel more tightly and changed the subject.

  "I'm going to stop at Heaven on Seventh. Dev is usually there in the morning and I'll give him the transmitter. I need some coffee, too. Would you like a cup?" Maybe hot, strong coffee could get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, the one full of regret for what could never be. If Abby knew what he really was, she'd run so fast that all she'd leave behind was a cloud of dust.

  "I'd love some. And a sweet roll, too." She looked over at him, giving him a warm smile. "I'll warn you right now, Damien, I'm not a cheap date."

  Her smile stunned him, and for a moment all he could do was stare at her. Then the car behind him honked, and he swung the car into a parking spot. When he looked over at her again, her lips still curved upward, a wealth of understanding in her eyes.

  His chest tightened, but he couldn't force himself to look away. Her eyes drew him in, made him feel like he was drowning in the understanding acceptance he saw there. Abby saw right through his harsh words. Saw right through him, and understood. And her smile told him she wasn't going to back off.

  He finally turned away, his heart pounding in his chest as he grabbed blindly for the door handle. "I'll be right back," he muttered.

  He ordered quickly, then spoke briefly to Devlin, handing him the transmitter. He turned and looked out the window at the car while he waited for their order. He could just see Abby, sitting in the front seat. Could the promise in her eyes possibly be real? If she knew the truth, would she still have that light in her eyes when she looked at him, or would he see accusation there, the same kind of blame his wife's family laid on him? Was it even remotely possible that if she knew the truth she'd still want to reach out for him?

  When he eased himself back into the car, he handed Abby her cup and the box that held her roll. "I don't want to drive while I drink this coffee."

  She nodded. "That's fine."

  They sat in the car and sipped their coffee, but he wasn't thinking about the men who were chasing them. The only thing real to him right now was the woman sitting next to him. All that was important had narrowed down to this car, to the small space between the two bucket seats.

  And he was sure Abby felt it, too. Every time he glanced in her direction, her shoulders tensed a little more. The air in the car suddenly lacked oxygen. His heart pounded and his chest tightened as they sat in silence, staring at the empty street as the tension built inside the car.

  "How far is it to your house?" Abby's voice sounded breathless, as if she felt the lack of oxygen as much as he did.

  "Just a few minutes. Cameron isn't a very big town. We're on the outskirts, on the other side of town." He drank his coffee and didn't allow himself to look over at Abby again. He was afraid of what be would see in her eyes, and more afraid of what she would read in his.

  When he heard the first sounds from the back seat, he drew a deep, shaky breath of relief. With Maggie and Casey awake, some of the tension that vibrated between the two adults was bound to dissipate.

  "Mommy?" he heard Maggie say. He didn't even think about how readily he could identify her voice.

  Abby set her coffee down and twisted in her seat. She reached back with one hand to brush the hair out of the girl's face. "Your mommy isn't here, sweetheart," she said softly. "It's Aunt Abby, remember?"

  In the rearview mirror he watched as Maggie struggled to sit up in her car seat. "I don't remember the car, Aunt Abby. Why are we in the car?"

  "Damien is taking us to his house." Abby's voice was low and soothing. "He thought you might like to see it."

  Maggie shifted in her seat and looked over at him. He met her eyes in the rearview mirror, eyes full of trust and acceptance, and he felt his heart
contract. "Do you have a lake at your house, Damien?"

  "No, but there's a swimming pool nearby." He struggled to keep his voice even. "We can swim there."

  "Okay." Maggie turned to look at her aunt. "I'm hungry, Aunt Abby. What are we going to eat for breakfast?"

  Damien barely heard Abby's answer to Maggie's question. He felt like he'd been gut punched. The trust in Maggie's hazel eyes had stolen his breath, leaving him gasping for air and scrambling for a way to put some distance between himself and the two girls.

  But he couldn't give into that need, not yet. First he had to get them to tell him what they'd seen that day at their mother's office.

  "Do you mind if they have sweet rolls, too?" he asked. "I can run in and get them from Heaven on Seventh."

  "That's fine," she said, giving him a wry smile. "Healthy eating habits don't seem nearly as important when you're on the run."

  While the twins ate their sweet rolls, he stopped at the grocery store, then drove toward the house that stood on the edge of town. A house that he never wanted to see again, but now would be living in. With Abby and the two girls.

  "Look, Aunt Abby! There's a fair!"

  Casey's excited voice spilled over him, and he welcomed the interruption. And once more he wondered uneasily at how quickly he'd known which girl was speaking.

  He glanced out the window, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That's a rodeo," he said. "There's always a rodeo in Cameron over the Fourth of July."

  "Can we go, Damien? Please?"

  The twins' pleading voices reminded him too much of another child begging to be taken to the rodeo. "We'll see," he said, and he felt Abby's gaze on him. He refused to look over at her. He knew the pain in his eyes, on his face, would be too raw.

  Abby saw the way he'd tensed as they got closer to his house. And she saw the pain in his face when Casey asked to go to the rodeo. When they finally pulled into the driveway of the house, Abby waited only long enough for the car to stop moving before she scrambled to pull open the door and jump out. A huge weight of emotion pressed on her from all sides, making her head pound and her hands shake. Standing next to the car, she gulped in the clean, fresh air and closed her eyes.

  She had no idea how difficult it must have been for Damien to bring them to this house. Every expression on his face, every tense muscle in his body, reverberated with pain. He had done this for them, she told herself. He had brought them to Cameron to keep them safe, even though it tore his heart out of his chest to do so.

  The girls' calls to her from the back seat caught her attention, and she turned back to the car. "I'll bet you're ready to get out of those car seats," she said brightly as she opened the back door.

  Casey scrambled out, followed by Maggie. "Is that Damien's house?" Casey asked.

  "I guess it is." For the first time Abby turned to look at the structure in front of them. Nestled up against the hills that surrounded the town, the house was set apart from the neighboring houses by a yard filled with trees and bushes and an overgrown garden. The house had a desolate air and was very tiny. She wondered uneasily how she and Damien were going to avoid one another in such a small house.

  "I'll show you the house and bring your bags in later."

  Damien's voice interrupted her calculations of bedroom size and location, and she turned to him reluctantly. "All right." Abby reached for Maggie and Casey's hands and held on tightly.

  Damien opened the front door and stood aside for them to enter, and Abby breathed a sigh of relief. The house looked so small because it was built on two levels. The top floor consisted of two bedrooms and a loft that looked down over the living room below it. As Damien led the way down the stairs, she saw the kitchen and another bedroom leading off the living room. And next to the other bedroom was a half-finished addition to the house. Sawdust and pieces of drywall on the floor spoke plainly of the ongoing work on the room.

  Damien leaned against the counter and turned to face her. "We're not going to use the bedroom down here. The twins will take one of the rooms upstairs, and you'll take the other. I'll sleep on the couch in the loft."

  Fear bubbled up again, although she tried to hide it. "That's fine."

  He took her arm and turned her to face him. "I think we're safe for a day or two, Abby, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take any stupid chances where you or the twins are concerned." The expression in his eyes softened. "I'll sleep better if everyone is close by."

  The thought of Damien sleeping just outside her room sent a wave of heat sweeping over her. "All right." She hoped he didn't hear the tremor in her voice. "Which room do you want them to have?"

  "I'll show you. Come back upstairs."

  The room he led them to was small, with two windows shaded by a pine tree on the side of the house. It was furnished with bunk beds and a chest of drawers in dark wood. Otherwise it showed no signs of ever being occupied.

  "This is perfect for them. They'll…" She glanced over at Damien as she spoke, and the rest of her words died in her throat. A mask had frozen over his face, leaving his eyes bleak and shuttered and his mouth a hard line. Pain was etched in every line of his body.

  "Damien?" she whispered, shocked. "Are you all right?"

  Slowly he turned to face her. "No. I won't be all right until this case is solved and the person responsible for Joey Stefanetto's death is behind bars." He turned and walked out of the room, and a few moments later she heard the front door open and quietly close behind him. The sound echoed in the silent house.

  Damien's pain seemed to linger in the room, a throbbing presence that made her heart ache. Instinctively she turned to follow him, but stopped when the door opened again and he walked in, his arms full of suitcases.

  "I thought the girls would want some of their toys and things." He dropped the suitcases in the hall between the two bedrooms. "I'll let you sort out what goes where."

  His eyes were carefully blank, and she couldn't read anything in his gaze. After a moment he turned away and headed out the door, and she slowly bent to pick up Maggie and Casey's suitcases. She would find out what caused the torment she'd seen in his eyes, she vowed. Somehow, in the past few days, easing Damien's pain had become very important to her.

  "Aunt Abby, can we play outside?" Casey's voice intruded on her thoughts, and she looked up with a start. Both girls watched her with expectant, eager eyes.

  "Why don't we wait for Damien?" she finally answered. "Maybe he has more he'd like to show us."

  "It'll be safe outside 'cause he doesn't have a lake," Casey assured her. "I looked out the window. But he has a hill just like the hill behind your house. We can play there."

  If only their safety were as easily defined as the lack of a lake, Abby thought. She bit her lip at the thought of them playing unsupervised in the yard. Damien might have said that they would be safe here for a day or two, but she didn't want to take any chances. "We'll have to ask Damien about that, honey," she said after a moment. "Maybe his hill isn't safe for little girls to play on by themselves."

  The look of scorn on Casey's face would have made her laugh any other time. "We play on hills all the time, Aunt Abby. We don't get lost."

  If only getting lost were all they had to worry about, Abby thought with a painful tug of fear. The door opened behind her, and Damien came in with the bags of groceries he'd just bought. She turned to him with relief.

  "The girls want to go play outside, but I told them we'd have to ask you about it."

  Setting the bags down, he straightened. "I think that would be all right, but maybe we should have something to eat first."

  "Okay." Maggie answered with a grin, then turned and clattered down the stairs, Casey close behind. "I'm starved," she called from below.

  Damien certainly knew how to distract the girls, she thought as she followed more slowly down the stairs. And it wasn't the first time she'd seen him do it, either. The time he'd suggested the bear trap was just one example of how effortlessly he'd managed to
direct their attention away from what he didn't want them to do.

  How could a man who seemed to handle children so well be so determined to avoid them? she wondered as she walked into the kitchen. Intent on unraveling the mystery of Damien, she didn't notice immediately that Maggie and Casey had their noses pressed to the sliding doors that led to the deck off the living room.

  "Aunt Abby," Casey called, excited. "There's someone in the bushes."

  Abby froze as she looked over at them standing in front of the door. They were perfect targets with the sunlight streaming down on them, illuminating them completely through the glass door. Her stomach clenched and her throat tightened with fear. "Get away from the window," she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

  The girls jumped back and looked at her, a puzzled expression in their eyes. Taking a deep breath, she said in a calmer voice, "You don't know who that was out there. Maybe Damien wants to surprise them."

  It was a pretty lame explanation, she thought as she watched them, but they seemed to buy it. "You mean surprise them with us?" Maggie asked eagerly.

  She was saved from answering by Damien's footsteps on the stairs. "It's all right, Abby. I know who it was." He came into the kitchen and went to stand over by the glass door. "It was my neighbor's kids. I saw them while I was unpacking the car."

  "Are we going to be a surprise for your neighbor?" Casey asked, jumping up and down with excitement.

  "Probably not." Abby heard the dry tone in his voice. "I think they've already seen you."

  "Can we play with them, Aunt Abby?" Casey pleaded, turning her huge brown eyes on her aunt. "We haven't played for a long time."

  Abby was about to say no when Damien spoke. "We'll see, Casey. Right now why don't we have some lunch?"

  All through the meal the girls chattered about the children they had seen in the bushes. After the sandwiches were gone and the girls had disappeared into their room, Abby asked in a low voice, "Are you sure they saw your neighbor's children and not someone else?"