The MacKades Collection: The Return of Rafe MacKade / The Pride of Jared MacKade / The Heart of Devin MacKade / The Fall of Shane MacKade. Nora Roberts
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Rafe offered. Since he insisted on making the coffee himself, it was the MacKade brew. Hot, strong and black as night.
“We’ll transfer him to Hagerstown,” Devin went on. “He’ll get himself a public defender. If Cassie doesn’t back down, he’ll have his day in court.”
Rafe sat on the corner of the cluttered desk. “You think she’ll back down?”
Fighting frustration, Devin shrugged. “This is the closest she’s ever come to doing anything about things. The son of a bitch has been pounding on her for years. Probably started on her on their wedding night. She can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Got bones like a bird.” His usually calm eyes went molten. “She’s got bruises around her throat where he choked her.”
“I didn’t see that.”
“I got pictures.”
After rubbing a hand over his face, Devin dropped his feet to the floor. Tussling with Joe, slapping cuffs on him, along with a few bruises—in the line of duty—hadn’t taken the edge off.
“I had to take her statement, and pictures for evidence, and she sat there looking at me like she was getting beat up all over again. God knows how she’ll handle it if she has to go to court and lay it all out.”
Abruptly he pushed away from his desk, paced to the window, where he could look out on the town. He’d given his word to serve the town, protect its citizens. Not to relieve his own bitter frustrations by pummeling one of them into the ground.
“I gave her the standard lines,” he continued. “Therapy, counseling, shelters. And I put just enough pressure on when she started to waffle, so she’d sign the complaint. She just sat there crying, and I felt like scum.”
Rafe studied his coffee, frowned. “You still have a thing for her, Dev?”
“That was high school,” Devin snapped. With an effort, he uncurled his fist, turned back to his brother.
They might have been twins, with barely a year separating them. The same bold, dark looks, rangy build. Only Devin’s eyes were cooler, more like moss than jade. And the scars he carried were on his heart.
“Sure I care about her,” he said, calm again. “Hell, Rafe, we’ve known her all our lives. I’ve hated watching what he’s been doing to her, not being able to stop it. Every time I got called out to their place, every time she had a fresh bruise, she’d just say it was an accident.”
“Not this time.”
“No, not this time. I sent my deputy with her to get the kids, whatever stuff she needs.”
“You know she’s going to stay with Regan Bishop.”
“She told me.” He drained his coffee, went back for more. “Well, she’s taken the first step. It’s probably the hardest.”
Since there was nothing more he could do, Devin sat behind his desk again and put the matter in the corner of his mind. “Speaking of Regan Bishop, word is you’ve been sniffing around her.”
“There a law against it?”
“If there is, it wouldn’t be one you haven’t broken before.” Devin rose again, rooted through the side drawer of his deputy’s desk. He confiscated two candy bars, tossed one to Rafe. “She’s not your usual type.”
“I’m upgrading my taste.”
“’Bout time.” Devin bit into chocolate. “Serious?”
“Getting a woman into bed’s always serious, bro.”
Mumbling an agreement over candy, Devin kicked back again. “So is that all there is?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve got a feeling it’ll be a hell of a start.” He glanced over and grinned as Regan came through the door.
She stopped short, as any woman might when faced with two gorgeous men smiling at her. “I’m sorry. I’m interrupting.”
“No, ma’am.” All quiet country charm, Devin unfolded himself and stood. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
Angling his head, Rafe put a hand on Regan’s shoulder. “Dibs,” he said in a mild warning.
“Excuse me?” Regan stepped back and gaped. “I beg your pardon, but did you just say ‘Dibs’?”
“Yeah.” Rafe bit off candy, offered her the rest of the bar. When she smacked his hand away, he only shrugged and ate it himself.
“Of all the ridiculous, outrageous— You’re a grown man, and you’re standing there eating candy and saying ‘Dibs’ as if I were the last ice-cream bar in the freezer.”
“The way I grew up, it was real important to stake your claim quick.” To prove it, he cupped her elbows, lifted her to her toes and kissed her long and hard. “Gotta go,” he said, releasing her just as arrogantly. “See you, Dev.”
“Yeah.” Too wise to let the laugh loose, Devin cleared his throat. Seconds passed, and Regan continued to stare at the door Rafe had slammed at his back. “You want me to go after him, haul him into the back room?”
“Have you got a rubber hose back there?”
“Afraid not. But I broke his finger once, when we were kids. I could probably do it again.”
“Never mind.” She shook herself. She’d deal with Rafe later, personally. “I came here to see if you’d arrested Joe Dolin.”
“So did Rafe.”
“I should have known he would.”
“Want some coffee, Regan?”
“No, I can’t stay. I just came to see if you had, and to ask, since Cassie and the children are going to be staying with me, if there are any precautions I should take.”
Quietly he measured her. He’d known her casually for three years, admired her looks, enjoyed a few conversations with her at the café or on the street. Now he saw what had attracted his brother. Spine, good sense, compassion.
He wondered if Rafe understood the difference the combination could make in his life.
“Why don’t you sit down,” he told her. “We’ll go over some things.”
Chapter 5
On Monday morning, Regan was up early, a song on her lips. In a few hours, the first furnishings would be delivered to the house on the hill. With her payment deposited, she would dash to an auction in Pennsylvania scheduled for that afternoon.
It would be well worth closing the shop for the day.
She put the coffee on, popped bread into the toaster. Then turned and nearly jumped out of her slippers.
“Oh, Connor.” Laughing, she pressed a hand to her speeding heart. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” The boy was thin, pale, with big eyes the color of shadows. His mother’s eyes, Regan thought as she smiled at him.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know anyone was up. It’s early, even for a school day. Want some breakfast?”
“No, thank you.”
She bit back a sigh. No eight-year-old boy should be so apologetically polite. She lifted a brow and took out a box of the cereal she’d learned was his favorite. With a wink, she gave it a shake.
“How about joining me for a bowl?”
He smiled then, so sweetly shy it broke her heart. “I guess if you’re having some.”
“Why don’t you get the milk out, put it on the table?” Because it hurt to see how carefully, how deliberately, he performed the simple chore, she made her voice bright. “I heard on the radio we’re in for some more snow.