Chapter Fifteen
“Did you call the security company that patrols your neighborhood to let them know you’d be by this morning?” Dalton asked his now-quiet passenger. She’d been silent for longer than he was comfortable with. What was going on in that brilliant mind of hers?
“I should do that,” she said, reaching for her cell. “I have a number that I can text so everyone will get the message. I’ll let them know that we’re on our way.”
A few seconds later, she dropped her phone inside her purse again before leaning her head back.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “In fact, once I was out, I didn’t open my eyes again until this morning. How about you?”
“I got in a couple hours of shut-eye,” he said.
“I don’t need much.” He hoped the small talk could keep her mind off returning to her house.
Her body language had tensed once the subject came up.
Talking had always calmed his sister and cousins when they had to face a scary task.
He hoped the distraction would work for Blakely too.
“I’m normally an eight-hour girl,” she said. “You don’t want to talk to me before I’ve had my coffee either.”
“Good to know,” he said, remembering she’d had her coffee in hand when he joined her in the kitchen. “What about breakfast? Should we run through a drive-through?”
“I can grab a couple of protein bars at my house,” she offered.
He got it. She didn’t want to risk being stuck in a line if Johnny Spear caught up to them.
Innocent people could get hurt, not to mention both of them shot.
“Sounds like a plan.” His coffee had kicked in, clearing the cobwebs.
Though, he had the ability to snap into action on fifteen minutes of sleep and no caffeine if needed.
His sister teased him about it being his superpower.
The situation with his grandparents got him thinking about family a whole lot. And about whether he wanted to stay on the job or not.
“Did you ever want to be anything else besides a judge?” he asked Blakely.
“Not really,” she said. “Not seriously or when I was old enough to know the variety of jobs out there. I went through the usual I-want-to-be-a-veterinarian stage that most animal lovers go through when they’re young. What about you?”
“I’ve been thinking about that question since the accident,” he admitted. Dalton hadn’t spoken to anyone about a pull toward changing professions. Not even his family. “I loved the parts of my childhood that allowed me to run free on the land. The ranch is a special place.”
“Have you spoken to the others about what it might look like if your grandparents have a long recovery?” she asked.
He appreciated the fact she hadn’t said “when they die.” He couldn’t bring himself to believe they wouldn’t pull through this, even though time was running out and they weren’t making meaningful progress.
“No,” he said. “But I’ve been thinking that conversation is probably overdue.
After this assignment, it’s my turn and then my brother Camden’s.
I’m not sure how long we can keep rotating like this.
Plus, decisions are going to have to be made about the horses.
It keeps the person who is holding vigil at the hospital busy since much of the work can be done via laptop until it’s time to arrange a pickup. ”
“Growing up on a horse ranch sounds like the coolest childhood ever,” Blakely said with appreciation in her voice.
“It’s not for everyone, but it was special to me,” he admitted.
“Would you consider going back and taking over for your grandparents full-time?” she asked.
“It was never even a thought until recently,” he said as he entered her neighborhood. “Now? I guess I’m considering all options.”
“Would you regret leaving your job?”
“How will I know if I don’t try it?” he asked before turning the tables. “Would you ever consider doing anything else for a living?”
“Never say never,” Blakely said. “But, I’ve been so busy making my mark that I haven’t taken the time to consider any other path.
I’m proud of the work that I’ve done and how far I’ve come.
” She shrugged as they pulled up in front of her home where a squad car waited.
“And I know that I don’t want to be on the other side of the bench as a litigator. So what else would I do?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe work as a victim’s advocate. I could see you doing something like that.” His tactic to keep her talking worked. She’d relaxed enough to stop working her fingers into a knot. That was progress.
“Guess I never thought about it,” she said. “Once I decided on law, I gave myself no other options because that was the only way to succeed in getting through law school.”
A uniformed officer exited his vehicle to walk to the truck, as Dalton did the same before rounding the front to open Blakely’s door.
He surveyed the area and then tucked Blakely behind him.
After perfunctory greetings, the officer followed closely behind as they essentially formed a shield around Blakely.
She was in and out of the house in less than ten minutes. It had to be some kind of record for getting ready, and she shouldn’t look this good without making much effort. Though, Dalton wouldn’t complain.
Thick hair in a slicked-back ponytail, she looked every bit the serious judge. Except Dalton had never seen a judge as beautiful.
They made it to the truck without incident, thanked the officer and then doubled back toward the courthouse.
Once settled and out of her neighborhood, Blakely pulled a couple of power bars out of her handbag, as promised, and handed one over.
Dalton polished his off in a matter of four bites. Blakely ate hers slowly, staring out the window as she chewed on every bite.
“You might be right about becoming a victim’s advocate,” she said once she’d finished hers. Next, she pulled out a pair of bottled waters. “Thirsty?”
“What else do you have in there? A breakfast taco?” he teased.
Blakely’s serious expression broke, and she smiled. “I threw everything in here but the kitchen sink.”
“Oh, darn,” he teased. “How will I wash my hands without a sink?”
Blakely exhaled. “Thank you, by the way.”
He shot a confused look her way.
“First of all, you didn’t ask to be reassigned the minute you realized who you’d be protecting on this assignment,” she began. “I might not have acted like it at first, but I’m glad it’s you and not some stranger.”
“You’re welcome.” He probably shouldn’t be thanked for doing his job. Though, he appreciated the gesture.
“Secondly, you haven’t run off after everything,” she said. “I should have explained myself. I should have figured out your number and called or told you what I did for a living instead of taking off without an explanation.”
“About that,” he said, surprised she’d brought it up. “What happened there? Did you think I was such a jerk that I wouldn’t understand?”
“No, not that at all,” she quickly countered. “I panicked. Plain and simple. I have no excuse for my actions, and I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” he reassured her.
“And then I kissed you yesterday, which I had no place doing,” she continued.
“No, and it can’t happen again.” They’d been doomed from the beginning. She realized that before he did. And he’d nursed a bruised ego, but he’d moved past it all and had no intention of going down that road.
“I know.”
Why the hell did those words inch their way through the wall he’d constructed when it came to Blakely?
* * *
Blakely had no idea why she felt the need to explain her actions, except that Dalton deserved to know the truth. “It’s just that I’m broken, and I’m no good for anyone for the long haul. You know what I mean?”
Before he could respond, she added, “That fifteen-year-old who put this scar here was my boyfriend. I thought I loved him. And, yes, I know that what I felt was puppy love, first crush, but you know, it sure felt like the real thing to me then.”
“First love is powerful,” he said, taking it all in without a hint of judgment in his expression. She loved that about him. He seemed to see the good in her.
“I haven’t… I don’t… I just don’t think relationships are right for everyone,” she said.
“Take me, for instance. I’m completely happy alone.
I have my sister and I have Chase.” If this divorce happened like she feared it might, she would be seeing a whole lot more of Bethany and Chase.
As it was, Blakely wanted to bring her sister home from the hospital to live with her until she sorted out her marriage.
“They are going to need me more than ever.”
Dalton nodded, but his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“And I need to be there for them,” she said. “Plus, my job is my life, and I spend the rest of my waking hours reviewing cases.”
“You take care of everyone around you,” he said in an unreadable tone.
“It’s what I’ve always done,” she said. Being the oldest, even by a few minutes, she’d stepped in to be there for Bethany after they lost their parents, and she intended to be there for her sister now.
“One question,” Dalton said.
“Okay,” she said.
“Who takes care of you?”
The question was simple. So why did it kick up a dust storm of emotions that caused hot tears to well in her eyes? “I do.” Her voice cracked.
“As far as I can tell, you take care of everyone around you,” he said, his voice wrapping around her like a warm embrace. It threatened to shatter all the carefully constructed walls she’d built around her heart.
Could she afford to let someone in?
Heart racing faster than if she’d just sprinted across the parking lot, she wished she could. It was too much, too soon, too unknown.
“I think I’ve been doing a decent job of managing my life,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“What? Imply that I wasn’t? Because what other logic is there for making a comment like that one?” Damn. She could hear the defensiveness in her own tone. “You’re saying that I’m not competent to take care of myself. And that I’m incapable of managing my life.”
“Hold on a second,” Dalton said, still calm as the surface of a lake on a clear day. “You got all that from what I said?”
“It’s what you meant, isn’t it?”
“No, seriously. You extrapolated a criticism of your professional life as well as your personal life based on what I said?” He white-knuckled the steering wheel.
When he put it in those words, she sounded off base. It had made sense in her head a few seconds ago. “Sorry, would you repeat your statement?”
“Why? You’re just going to decide what I mean instead of hearing me out anyway,” he said. The finality in his tone said they were done talking about this.
Had she jumped to conclusions?
Maybe. Okay, yes. Yes, she’d jumped to conclusions, but that didn’t mean she was off base.
“It’s all I know,” she said quietly as she stared out the front windshield.
“My grandmother used to say, ‘If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.’ Sounds like the saying applies here.”
Blakely doubted she could change if she wanted to. “I’m set in my ways, Dalton.”
“Okay,” he said. His quick agreement struck like a physical blow. “We’re here.” He pulled up to the front doors of the courthouse, as close as possible. Ralph, her favorite bailiff, waited at the door. “You should probably head on inside.”
A moment of panic gripped her. “Where will you be?”
“I’ll be around,” he said.
Okay. She’d done it. She’d successfully pushed him away. She’d done this, without regret, to every person who came into her life for longer than she cared to remember.
Why did she suddenly feel hollow inside?
Blakely was midtrial on a robbery case. She expected closing arguments later today, and then the jury would go into the jury room and start their process.
As she passed by the men’s bathroom on the way to her courtroom, her law professor stepped into the hallway. The move caught her off guard. She yelped and brought a defensive hand up to push him away.
“Your Honor,” he began, tipping his hat and offering a slight bow.
Before he could continue, she asked, “Professor, what are you doing here?”
“I brought a couple of promising students to witness a trial,” he explained. The professor had a full head of white hair. He was tall, roughly six feet, and in his midfifties.
“Extra credit?” she asked, unable to muster a smile.
“That’s right,” he said, standing a little too close. “I’d hoped to catch you.” His gaze shifted from her to Ralph and back. “Might I have a word in private?”
“Is it urgent?” she asked as an icky feeling took hold. “Because I’m on my way to court.”
“Of course.” His smile was more like a sneer. “It can wait.”
Blakely tried to shake off the grimy feeling on her way to the bench.
“Everything all right, Your Honor?” Ralph asked.
“Fine,” she said, even though she felt anything but.