The Sheriff's Son. Stella Bagwell
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that no children fitting the twins’ description have been listed as missing in the state in the past twenty-four hours.”
“Does that surprise you?”
He watched Justine sip her coffee. The morning was cool but clear. The bright sunlight caught her red hair and turned the wavy tendrils to molten bronze. She was still by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever know, and he wondered what had happened between her and Charlie’s father. Why hadn’t the man married her? Or had it been Justine’s choice to end their engagement?
“Not really,” he said in answer to her question. “Like I said, whoever left the twins intended your family to have them. They’re not going to go to the police. Unless they have a change of heart.”
“Then how do you plan to start an investigation without anything to go on?”
“I already have. My deputies are out now, questioning everyone and anyone up and down the streets of town to see if the twins were seen around here yesterday. It could be they traveled through Ruidoso before going on to the Bar M.”
Ruidoso wasn’t a particularly large metropolis, but it was a heavily traveled tourist town. Thousands of people came to see the horse races at Ruidoso Downs, shop the unique little stores lining the highways and simply enjoy the sight of the cool, beautiful mountains. How could anyone remember one set of babies, when they saw tourists with babies every day? Justine wondered.
“That’s another thing that puzzles me,” Justine mused aloud. “How did this person or persons know where the ranch was?”
“Because they know you, or at least know of you. That’s why you and your family need to rack your brains. You might come up with something or someone.”
Her break time nearly over, Justine rose to her feet and brushed at the wrinkles in her straight skirt. “Of course, we’ll try. Now I have to get back inside.”
Roy needed to get to work himself. But he was reluctant to leave just yet. Last night, after Justine called, he’d spent hours thinking about her, the way she’d looked and sounded, and the way he’d felt upon learning that she’d loved some other man enough to have his child. He hadn’t expected to feel anything like regret. Six years ago, when he became involved with her, he hadn’t been ready for marriage or children. So why did it hurt so much to think of her turning to another man?
“How long have you worked here?”
Surprised by the personal question, she slanted him a glance from beneath her lashes. “Since before Mother died seven months ago.”
He grimaced. “I was sorry to hear about her passing.”
He sounded sincere, and somehow that made it harder for Justine to remain callous toward him. She knew that Roy had lost his mother long before he was grown. His father had died in a hunting accident when Roy was only a teenager. He understood what it was like to lose a parent.
“I moved back to the Hondo valley to be with her and nurse her while I could.”
His eyes searched her face. “And you stayed because…?”
She met his gaze. Was he thinking the reason was him? No, surely not. It should be obvious. She’d been home a year and half, and she’d carefully kept her distance from him.
“Mother’s death made me realize how much I needed to be with my family, and how much Charlie needed them, too.”
He glanced at the ground and shifted uncomfortably. “Now, you’ve lost your father. That must have been quite a blow.”
“I think you know how much of a blow. You lost your father, too.”
He glanced up, and for a split second, Justine saw naked pain in his eyes, but it was gone just as swiftly and he was back to being the steely-eyed sheriff of Lincoln County.
“You remember that?” he asked lowly.
He seemed surprised, and Justine couldn’t understand why. True, their time together hadn’t been that long. Two months, at the most. But during those weeks, she’d grown so very close to him. She’d learned all about his growing-up years, his hopes and disappointments, his dreams for the future. How could he think she had forgotten anything about him?
“Of course I remember. He was hunting elk up in the mountains near Cimarron and fell from a cliff.”
“I guess you do remember.”
Too much, Justine thought. Far too much. She turned down the sidewalk heading back to the entrance of the building, then paused awkwardly, a few steps away from him.
“I should thank you again for your help with the twins. I’m sure it would have been impossible for us to keep them if you hadn’t intervened on our behalf. Chloe and Rose are beside themselves.”
Being the sheriff, Roy often received thanks from the people he was able to help. Yet a thank-you coming from Justine was something entirely different. He didn’t want to be touched by it, but he was. He didn’t want to be drawn to her beauty, but he was. More than that, he didn’t want to think of her as his lover. In the past or the present. But he was. And he didn’t know how to stop it.
“I’ll be out at the ranch again this evening,” he said without preamble.
Surprised, Justine looked at him. “For what?”
“Remember, I still need to talk to your sisters. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell them to be there. And I’d like to talk to you some more, too.”
Her heart began to thud rapidly. “About the twins?”
One corner of his mouth curled mockingly. “What else?”
What else indeed, she thought, as heat colored her face. “All right. We’ll be there.”
He touched his finger to the brim of his Stetson, then turned and walked away.
Justine watched him until he was out of sight, then forced herself to go back inside to work. But forcing him out of her mind was another matter.
That evening, when Justine got home from work, she scraped her hair back into a ponytail, donned a pair of old, faded jeans, a worn chambray work shirt and tennis shoes with paint splotches on the toes.
When Roy Pardee showed up, he was going to see that enticing him was the last thing on her mind, Justine assured herself as she walked down to the kitchen.
As she stepped into the room, Kitty looked up from her task at the cabinet. “What are you going to do, clean the attic?” the woman asked, her eyes running over Justine’s grubby clothes.
“No. Just getting comfortable,” Justine said offhandedly, then walked over to where the twins were seated, in two high chairs. Bibs were tied around their necks, and damp vanilla-wafer crumbs were scattered across the trays in front of them.
“Where did the high chairs come from?” Justine asked.
“Rose found one in the attic, and Vida brought the other one over this morning,” Kitty said. Vida was an old friend of hers, who lived a few miles down the road, toward Picacho. “Her grandbabies have all grown out of the high-chair stage, and she said she wouldn’t be needing it.”
“She knew about the twins being here?”
“I told her last night on the phone. But I think the whole Hondo Valley must know by now. The telephone has been ringing all day.”
Justine tweaked both babies’ cheeks with thumb and forefinger. “I guess it would be impossible to keep the news from traveling. Especially with Roy’s deputies asking questions all over town.”
Kitty turned her attention back to the cookbook lying open on the cabinet counter.