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Joe Colton and Blake looked at her oddly, and Suzanne straightened. She would lick her wounds in private. “I’m just fine. It’s the kids I’m worried about. Tell us how you want to work out the details of turning your beautiful home into an orphanage.”
Joe and Meredith laughed and even Blake, exhausted and worried as he was, cracked a smile.
Suzanne shoved away the blues and concentrated on the children under her care.
“See you in the morning, Blake.” Michael waved at his troubled friend. “Go get some sleep. It’ll all be here tomorrow.”
Blake shook his head. “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“We’re going to lick this, buddy. Your friend Sinclair broke the case, and the FBI’s now involved. The EPA guys are champing at the bit after Inspector O’Connell’s death. We’ll find out who and why and what we have to do. Joe’s brought all his resources to bear, too.”
“But what if—”
Michael knew exactly what Blake meant. He wouldn’t be sleeping soundly at night until they knew for sure how the DMBE got into the Hopechest water and could be sure it hadn’t traveled into the city’s wells. But he’d learned long ago that lying awake didn’t do anything but make you too tired to deal with tomorrow. “Tomorrow, Blake,” he said firmly. “No more for you tonight.” With a friendly push, he sent his friend toward his car. “Home. Sleep.”
Blake saluted, got into his car and drove away.
Michael stood on Prosperino’s Main Street and looked around him at the town where his childhood memories had been born. He thought of the son who’d never ride his bike on these streets, never climb a tree. He felt an echo of the old, gut-wrenching pain and looked up at the stars.
Not one parent in Prosperino is going to lose a child, I swear it. I will not rest until everyone here is safe again, no matter what it takes.
There was nothing he could do to safeguard the woman and child buried, along with his heart, a continent away. There was nothing he could do to make his father’s long-damaged heart mend. Nor was there anything he could—or would—do to satisfy his father’s dying wish for Michael to marry.
But he could expend every ounce of his determination and strength to keep the citizens of this town safe. Corny as it might sound, they were his responsibility. He had taken an oath to serve this town that was so much a part of him, of his family’s heritage, and he would honor that oath.
Michael’s senses registered the breeze through the trees, the muffled sounds of slow, small-town living. Suddenly he realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He was starving. His gaze lit on Ruby’s Café, the heartbeat of Prosperino. He didn’t feel like going home to an empty house tonight. Ruby’s, it was. With quick strides, he headed down the block.
When he entered the café, quiet at this late hour, he was stopped at every occupied table or booth by people seeking reassurance. He did the best he could, though it had been a very long day and all he really wanted was some peace and quiet and food.
He spoke with the last group and traded handshakes all around, then headed for his favorite back booth.
But it was occupied—by the very woman he’d been worried about earlier.
Staring into a coffee cup, looking utterly lost, Suzanne Jorgenson seemed to gather what little light made it into that corner of the room. Sleek and straight, her black hair fell past her shoulders, veiling her face as she leaned forward, her head in her hands.
Suzanne was a good foot shorter than his own six four, but her will was so strong and her spirit so indomitable that she’d always seemed taller. Tonight she looked fragile and vulnerable, and it shocked Michael so much that he wasn’t sure whether to go to her or retreat.
But he’d never been much for retreating.
“Mind if I join you?”
Her head jerked up, and he could see that she’d been crying. On her lovely face was a look of such despair that it didn’t matter how tired he was. Instead of waiting for an answer she seemed too dazed to give, he sat down. “What’s wrong?”
For a moment the old sparks flickered in those stunning violet eyes. “I don’t recall inviting you to sit down, Mr. Mayor.” But he heard the tremble in her voice.
“So sue me. What’s wrong? The kids are going to be okay, I swear it. We’ve got lots of people working on this. The ranch isn’t alone anymore.”
“It isn’t—” She stopped, but he could see temptation flicker.
He cocked his head. “Is there something about the ranch I need to know? Something you and Blake haven’t told us?”
She shook her head slowly. “It’s not the ranch. It’s—” She glanced away. “Nothing. Not anything you need to worry about.”
But she was worried, desperately so. He made his living reading people—in court, in depositions, in the confidences they shared with him. He also knew the value of silence. “I’ve got pretty broad shoulders and a willing ear to spare.”
When her gaze flickered over him, measuring those shoulders, Michael felt an answering response, and the strength of it surprised him. Well, all right, it wasn’t like he’d never looked at her as a woman. But most of the time she was a pain in the behind, always involved in some cause or other, always trying to push for the city to pitch in, always impatient with the pace of bureaucracy.
But he had noticed she was female. She was slender though definitely curved in all the right places. You couldn’t look at her with those big violet eyes and those knockout legs and not know she was all woman. If she’d use that delectable mouth for something besides arguing with him over every line of the city budget as though the only important causes were hers—
He caught himself staring at that mouth and turned away quickly, calling out his order to Ruby.
“No date tonight, Mr. Mayor?” There it was, that tone she used, that snotty tone that made him—
She didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that was making her cry, so she must be out to pick a fight.
He wasn’t going to cooperate. “Nope. No date. Doesn’t look too good for the head of the emergency management team to be playing while the Titanic sinks.”
Her eyes went wide, and she shifted in the booth. “Oh God, the kids—”
He stopped her with one raised palm. “It was a joke, Jorgenson. All right, a lousy one, but I’m a little punchy. We’ve been putting in some long nights lately.”
Suddenly her eyes softened. “Blake’s exhausted.”
“I’ll bet you are, too. You’ve been at the hospital every day and all that driving back and forth to the ranch trying to keep the kids calm has to be wearing you out. You should be home asleep, you know. You won’t do them any good if you wind up in a bed beside them.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Careful, Longstreet. I might get the idea that you’re a decent guy.”
He shrugged and grinned. “I even have a mother who thinks I’m pretty terrific. Go figure.” He watched her closely. He took one more stab, keeping his tone light. “So if it’s not the ranch, is it some deep, dark secret that I can exploit the next time you’re haranguing me at the council meeting?”
She made a halfhearted attempt to rise to the bait. “Can’t help you there. Sorry.”
The waitress walked up with his food, and Suzanne fell silent.
Michael didn’t speak either but tucked into his meal, savoring the first bites of Ruby’s meat loaf from heaven. After he’d satisfied the initial hunger pangs, he looked at Suzanne again, observing the slim fingers clutching the coffee cup until her knuckles turned white.
He went on impulse. “Give me a dollar.”
Her head jerked up again. “What?”
“Give me a dollar.” He spied the change beside her cup and grabbed it. “Never mind. Thirty-seven cents will do.”
“What are you doing?”
“You just hired me as your lawyer. Now I can’t reveal to a soul anything you tell me. So spill it, Suzanne. Something’s eating you up and you need to talk about it.”
She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.
Then the tears spilled over.
“I’m going to lose my son. For the second time.”
Two
“You what?” Michael’s deep green eyes widened. The shock of sun-streaked brown hair that always fell over his forehead bounced as his head reared up. “You have a son? Where is he?”
“He’s in Sacramento with his father. Well, not his—” Yes, Jim Roper was Bobby’s father, the only one he’d ever known. “He’s with his father.” She lapsed into silence.
She expected a volley of questions, but instead Michael waited her out.
She reached for the saltshaker on the table in front of him, sliding it around in aimless circles until she realized what she was doing and jerked her hand back, trapping it in her lap. “I—” She glanced up once, then down quickly, but he didn’t look impatient. Instead he sat there, fork still, simply watching her with only concern in his eyes.
“Your food will get cold. Go ahead and eat,” she said.
“My food can wait. Talk to me, Suzanne.”
The gentle tone was something she’d never heard from him. They’d always been too busy striking sparks off each other, arguing vigorously in one meeting or another.
She realized that she’d never been alone with Michael Longstreet before. There was a stillness about the man that seeped beneath her skin, a patience that made her realize how much she needed to talk to someone.
“I had to give him up for adoption.” She kept her eyes on her coffee cup. “I didn’t want to, but it was the right thing to do. I was sixteen. I couldn’t have cared for him the way he deserved.” She couldn’t risk a glance upward, couldn’t bear seeing if his expression disapproved. No matter how often she’d told herself she’d done the right thing, it still hurt. She’d still wanted her baby back, sometimes so much she thought she couldn’t last into the next breath.
Anyway, it was done. It was over—or it had been over. But not anymore.
“A few months ago I received a call from Jim Roper, the man who adopted my baby. Bobby—”
She looked up then and couldn’t help a smile. “His name is Bobby. He’ll be ten soon.” And oh, how she wanted to celebrate his birthday with him. Wanted to bake him a cake with her own hands and blow up balloons and do all the things she’d wanted to do every March 28th of the last nine years.
“What happened to his biological father?” Michael asked.
She glanced away. “He didn’t want a baby. His future was too bright, he said. Too much of his life ahead of him. He offered me money for an abortion and made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with a child he doubted was his own.”
A low curse issued from Michael’s throat, and she gathered the courage to look back. She saw his eyes darken with outrage, but on his face she saw more than that, a swirling of strong emotions she couldn’t define. “I’d never been with anyone else. Fool that I was, I actually thought we were in love, this rich man’s son and the daughter of a plumber.” A rich man’s son like the one who sat before her.
Michael didn’t miss the accusation in her voice. If only she knew. He’d made the opposite choice from her rich boy and married the waitress his parents tried to buy off, knowing his parents would cut him off without a penny. Feeling righteous because he loved her so much.
His foolish pride had ultimately cost his wife and unborn baby their lives.
Michael jerked his dark thoughts back to the woman across the table. “He didn’t deserve you. He wouldn’t have made you happy.”
Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. “But I could have kept my baby—” She grasped her napkin in white-knuckled fingers and sniffed hard, forcing the tears back. “No, you’re right. I know I did the best thing for Bobby, but—” Her hands fluttered from the table, palms up in helplessness.
“So now you fight like a tigress for other people’s children.”
The violet gaze shifted to his, the thick black lashes still shimmering with tears. The corners of her full mouth tilted slightly, and she nodded. “I guess so.”
“So what’s happened now, tonight?”
The faint smile vanished. She twisted the paper napkin through her fingers. “When Jim Roper contacted me, it was because Bobby had been wanting to meet his biological mother. His adoptive mother died five years ago, and Jim has been raising Bobby alone.” Her face brightened in a way he’d never seen. “He’s done a good job. Bobby’s a bright, healthy, energetic boy who’s very secure in the love he’s been given.”
Her gaze lifted to his. “I was so afraid to meet Bobby, even though Jim and I agreed to take it slow and not tell him yet that I was his mother. Give him time to get used to me, to decide if he liked me without all that pressure.” Moisture glistened again, one slow tear trailing down her cheek. “He likes me, but I’m so afraid that he’ll hate me when he knows.” The napkin tore in her fingers. “And now it’s too late.”
Michael frowned. “Why?”
“Jim hasn’t been feeling well. He finally went to the doctor last week and found out that he’s got pancreatic cancer. He doesn’t have long. He wants me to take Bobby.”
“Don’t you want to?”
Her head snapped up. “Of course I do, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But Jim’s wife has a cousin named in his will as guardian if anything happens to Jim.”
“So? He can change the will.”
“He’s afraid she’ll contest it because I’m single and I don’t have a long job history or much money. The cousin is married and is financially secure.” She looked up at him, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such misery in his life. “I understand. I do. Jim doesn’t have much to leave for Bobby, so he needs to be sure Bobby’s in the best hands. It’s just that—” Her voice broke, and he saw her shoulders shake. “I feel like I’m losing him all over again. Jim says he believes that I’d be the best mother, but he admits that the cousin would be good to Bobby and she’s got all the things that I don’t.”
“Like a husband and solid financial footing?”
Her eyes sparked as she nodded. Her voice was fierce when she spoke. “But I have love, so much love. All the love he could ever want. And it’s going to be so hard on him, anyway, losing Jim. He doesn’t know this cousin, and he really likes me, I know he does. Jim says so, too, says he’s never seen Bobby take to someone so quickly.
“Isn’t this ridiculous?” she asked through a sheen of tears. “It sounds like a great soap opera plot, I’m sure.”
Michael shook his head. “In your work and mine, we both see a lot of messy situations. Life is like that.”
“Mine’s not. Not usually.”
“Want me to see if I could negotiate something? It’s what I do for a living, after all.”
She shook her head. “Jim is too sick. I’m worried about the strain on him. He’s holding it together for Bobby right now, but I think it’s sheer will. He needs a quick and easy solution, and the easiest thing is just to give in and not fight this. Maybe I’m being selfish, wanting Bobby back so badly.”
Remembering how badly Elaine had wanted their baby, Michael shook his head. “You gave him up once, despite what you wanted. I don’t think selfish applies.”
She ran the fingers of one hand through the long, silky mane and tried to smile. “Jim said it was too bad I couldn’t just order up a husband. He thinks he could get the cousin to back off if he’s able to show her that I could give Bobby as much as she could.”
She glanced up at Michael. “Know any likely candidates, Counselor? Since you’re on retainer and all, I might as well get my money’s worth.” She strove for lightness, but in her eyes swam pure misery.
Michael thought about his conversation with his mother and almost laughed, except it wasn’t funny. Just hours ago he’d been gnashing his teeth, wishing for a way to ease his father’s last days but unable to stomach the hypocrisy of searching for a temporary wife.
He shook his head. Surely he couldn’t seriously be considering the obvious option. He had the solution for both of them right in his hands, but—
He knew he couldn’t rule it out. Fate was a quirky, ill-tempered witch, but every once in a while, she smiled your way. “What would you do with this husband if you found him?” He strove for a casual tone.
“I’d kiss his feet if he’d help me get my son.”
“You only want a man long enough to get custody of your child, is that it?” He didn’t know why that pricked at his temper. It was perfect. All he wanted was a way to make his dad happy for whatever time remained. He had no heart left to give a woman.
But Suzanne didn’t look cynical. Just worn and sad. “My only concern has to be Bobby right now. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. There’s no candidate running around.”
Michael took a quick glance out the window, wondering if he could really do this.
Then he looked back at the woman across from him, and the slope of defeat in her shoulders tugged at his conscience. He could help her out and make his dad happy at the same time. She didn’t want more than he could give. All her love would go to her son. If he were the one dying and having to leave a son behind, he’d want that son to have a mother’s love as fierce as Suzanne’s.
