Rachel Lee – Cornered In Conard County (страница 7)
It wasn’t his safety that had worried her. No, she was annoyed that his job interfered with her life, and that was not a happy way to live, for either of them.
In the process he’d learned that love could die fast with the wrong person, and that was painful all by itself. Since his divorce, finally agreed to when the fighting became almost constant after a few years, he’d avoided entanglements. He didn’t know whether he was guilty of lousy judgment—although as a cop his judgment was usually pretty good—or whether he was just poison. Brenda had turned into a woman he didn’t recognize, and he wondered if that was his doing.
Anyway, even in his new job the unexpected happened. A search for a missing person could keep him from home for days, often without warning. And that was only one example. So...he judged it best to avoid long-term affairs. Maybe later in life, he told himself. Maybe when he retired from being a cop and devoted himself to the dog-training school he was slowly starting. Maybe after he got rid of those dang ostriches.
He enjoyed helping Dory run Flash through his paces, though. As the sun rose higher, with frequent breaks for Flash to lap water, he watched the woman and dog bond more securely. From his perspective, Flash had totally given his loyalty to Dory. He was already crazy about her.
There was no better protection than that. But there was still her brother. Unease niggled at Cadell. While a trained dog was great, it wasn’t a perfect solution. There were always ways around a dog if you thought about it—usually a bullet.
When they were done with training and Dory sat on the hard ground to play tug with Flash for a little while, Cadell dropped beside her and stretched out, propping himself on an elbow.
“You ever marry?” he asked, mainly because if she told him she’d had a lousy marriage he could hope she’d have as many reasons to avoid involvement as he had. One thing for sure—with this woman he was going to need a lot of protection for himself. Everything about her appealed to him.
“No,” she answered as she threw the knotted rope and Flash leaped into the air to catch it. Her reply was remarkable in its brevity. Interestingly, she didn’t ask him, which would have been the usual conversational flow.
He decided to plunge in anyway. An understated warning to both of them. “I was,” he said.
Her attention returned to him as Flash brought the rope back to her and dropped it in her lap. “Flash, down,” she said. All of this was coming naturally to her, and he smiled. Flash obeyed immediately, head still high and curious. “Not good?” she asked.
“Awful,” he said frankly.
“I’m sorry.”
He wondered if he should tell her more, then decided to go for it. She’d gotten his attention enough in so many ways that he was going to be checking up on her frequently. Officer Friendly, as long as George might be a threat.
“My wife, Brenda, was a cop groupie.” He watched her eyes widen. “Now, a smart cop knows that’s dangerous, that most of those women just want a notch on the headboard. But Brenda seemed different. Maybe she was. I never heard of her sleeping with any of the other guys. But she used to sit there in the bar with big eyes, encouraging us to talk, basking in as much of the camaraderie as we were willing to share with her.”
Dory nodded slowly. “I’m picturing it, but probably all wrong.”
“Probably not. Some women love the uniform, not what’s inside it. And some cops want brief affairs and one-night stands, just like the women. Consenting adults and all that. But Brenda seemed different. Unfortunately, she was.”
Dory looked down and scratched Flash behind one ear. “How so?”
“I felt drawn to her, so I started sitting with her more and more often. As we got to know each other better, I decided she was genuine and I liked her. So we started dating. Long story short, I fell in love, we got married, and six months later I started to learn how wrong I was.”
He plucked a blade of dried grass, shaking his head, then stared away from her out over the pasture to the nearby mountains. He’d had mountains in Seattle, but here...these were already special to him somehow.
“Anyway, it turned out she couldn’t stand my job. Irregular hours, broken plans. She started in on me for being unreliable, demanding I find a regular job.”
She drew an audible breath. “She called a police officer unreliable? Really?”
“In all fairness, from her perspective I probably was. I lost count of the times I missed dinner or a movie date with her. She wanted a very different kind of life, and I wanted to remain in law enforcement. So then it got truly ugly. No reason to rake it up. But I learned something.”
“Yes?”
He looked up and found her blue eyes on him. “That maybe I should just avoid marrying anyone. I sure as hell was doing something wrong, something I never seemed able to fix unless I gave up part of myself.”
Now it was her turn to look away toward the mountains. Whatever she was thinking, Flash sensed something and stirred a bit, raising his gaze to her face. Almost instinctively, she petted him.
“I never got that close to anyone,” she said after a minute or two. “I couldn’t tell you whether either or both of you were at fault.”
“I’m not asking for that,” he said quickly. “But since we’re probably going to be seeing each other quite a bit because of Flash, I thought...”
“We could be friends,” she finished for him. She turned her face toward him. “I don’t make friends, Cadell. Except for Betty. She’s the lone exception.” She closed her eyes briefly, then snapped them open. “I’m incapable of real trust. Even years of therapy didn’t help with that. So...consider me broken, which I guess I am.”
Then she rose to her feet. Flash stood, too.
Cadell gave up on trying to reach her. He’d issued the warning he’d wanted to, but evidently she didn’t need it.
Closed up, walled in, all because of something she saw as a child. He wished he could say that surprised him.
He stood, too. “Want to take Flash home with you today?”
“Betty’s cats might object.”
“I thought you were moving?”
“I almost decided to, then changed my mind. Tomorrow, when the internet is installed.”
Everything settled, returning to normal. Back to business. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep him for you and bring him over tomorrow.”
Flash wanted to go with her when she started toward her car, but she told him to stay. Looking forlorn, he settled on his belly and put his snout between his paws.
Dory didn’t miss the expression. “Tomorrow, Flash. I promise.”
Cadell watched her drive away, forgetting himself and standing too close to the penned ostriches. He ducked just in time and stepped away.
“Dang birds,” he said, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d just learned a lot about Dory Lake, and far from putting him off, it made him hurt for her.
Damn her brother. If that guy showed up in this county, Cadell was going to feed him to the birds. The big birds.
The next morning, Betty insisted on helping Dory move many of her belongings. Most of it was computer equipment, some very heavy, but Betty brought the clothes and lighter items for the kitchen.
The house was partially furnished, which made Dory’s life easier, and already contained the items she’d had shipped here, mostly work related office furniture, including the extra battered old chair that tipped back farther than the new one. She loved to sit in it sometimes just to think. Eventually she could spiff the house or her office up if she wanted, but with most of her attention on her job, on creating graphics with her team, she was seldom more than half-aware of her surroundings.
The pile of clothes on her bed amused Betty, however. Jeans. T-shirts. More jeans. Sweatshirts. “Lord, girl, don’t you ever dress up?”
“I don’t have any need.” But Dory laughed, too. It did look odd, all together like that. Add the plain undies and the three pairs of jogging shoes and she was sure she would appall most women.
“We have to do something about your fashion sense,” Betty remarked.
“Why?” Dory asked. And that really was the question. She worked long days, she had no desire to socialize and the one man who’d managed to pierce her desire for isolation had told her he wasn’t interested because he’d had a bad marriage. She didn’t need a neon sign.
Betty followed her into her office and watched as Dory unpacked the real center of her life. “You know I love you,” she said as Dory pulled out the first of six monitors.
“I know.” She braced herself for what she was certain was coming.
“You need more of a life than your job. Won’t you at least meet one or two people I think you’d like?”
“I met Cadell,” she reminded Betty. “Nice guy. Also seriously burned by life.”
Betty sighed, then said a bit sarcastically, “Well, at least you’re a pair, then.”
“Nope,” said Dory. “Nice and all that, great dog trainer...”
“And gorgeous as hell,” Betty said bluntly. “At least tell me you’re not blind.”
Dory paused, a power cord in her hand. “Betty? Please tell me you’re not going to keep pushing me this way. Because if that’s your goal, I’ll stop unpacking right now.”