The Sheriff's Son

Her heart beating in her throat, Justine took another moment to check the fresh diaper she’d placed on the baby. Then, rising to her feet, she went to answer Roy’s second knock.

The thin strips of glass running the length of the oak door gave her a glimpse of a tall man dressed in blue jeans, boots and a khaki shirt. His head was turned toward the corrals and barns, but the moment Justine opened the door, it jerked around to face her.

For long seconds, Justine could only stare at him and wonder why, after all these years, he should still look so good, so sexy, to her. The years she’d been away had changed him very little, except to add a few sunlines to his face and muscular weight to his body.

“Hello, Roy.”

Beneath the brim of his black Stetson, his blue eyes flicked impassively over her face. “Hello, Justine.”

She didn’t realize just how much seeing him had affected her until she stepped back to allow him entry into the house. Her legs were trembling on weak knees, and for a moment she clung to the doorknob for support.

“Please come in. The babies are right here.”

He stepped past her. Justine shut the door and turned to him.

“Were you the only one here when you found the babies?” he asked.

No “How are you, it’s good to see you, how have things been?” Justine thought. He was going to be strictly business. That was good, she supposed. She didn’t want anything personal to pass between them. Still, his indifference hurt. She’d once given him so very much of herself. But she supposed Roy Pardee was like so many men in this world. They took a woman’s heart, then forgot all about it.

“It appears that way. My sisters must be out on another part of the ranch. And my—aunt has gone into Ruidoso.”

He was looking at the two babies now. Justine drew in a shaky breath and raked her fingers through her long, tangled hair.

“What time was it when you came home and found them?”

Justine glanced at the watch strapped to her left wrist. “I don’t know exactly. I got off work a little later than usual, then drove straight home. I’d say it’s been at least an hour and a half.”

“And how were they when you found them?”

Her brows lifted as he turned back to her. “How were they?” she repeated inanely. “They were fine. In fact, I’d say they’re both in perfect health.”

Roy’s eyes slowly drifted over her white nurse’s shift. “I wasn’t asking about their medical condition. I want to know where they were. In the house, here on the floor?”

There was a thread of impudence in his voice, a sound that said he was just waiting, hoping, for her to make some sort of foolish remark. A second time. Justine suddenly wanted to slap him.

She tried to count to ten, but her mind wavered. By the time she reached five, her attention had returned to his face, the chiseled mouth and the hooded gray-blue eyes, the sandy hair curling around his ears and the back of his neck. She’d once showered that face with kisses, she remembered, threaded her fingers though his hair and held his head fast to her breast.

He’d made her heart beat fast and wild then. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved him, and now, after all this time, she was afraid she never would again. This man had ruined her chances of happiness, and he didn’t even know it. Moreover, he didn’t care.

Her nostrils flaring, she lifted her chin. “The babies were on the porch by the door. In a laundry basket.”

“Where is the basket?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I’d like to see it.”

And she’d like to stuff it over his head, Justine thought. But the pistol strapped to his hips and the badge pinned to his breast reminded her of his authority in this county, even in this house. She didn’t want to test it at this moment.

“Follow me,” she told him.

Justine took him to the kitchen, where the basket was still sitting atop the table. Ignoring her, he looked inside.

“Was there any sort of note, anything inside other than this blanket?”

“The only things I found were four diapers, two bottles and two pacifiers.”

He looked at Justine, his lips thinning with obvious disapproval. “And you’ve handled them all?”

“Of course. I had to change the babies, and I didn’t want the formula to spoil. The two of them will eventually need to eat.”

He lifted his hat from his head and raked his fingers through his hair. Justine couldn’t help but notice that it was still thick and shiny.

“I don’t suppose you thought about getting fingerprints?”

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “I’m not stupid, Roy. I think you and I both know that whoever left these babies doesn’t have a criminal record or have their fingerprints on file. It doesn’t appear to me to be a crime committed by a repeated felon with a jail record. There’s no motive or gain.”

She was probably right, but that didn’t make him like the fact that she’d tampered with evidence. Besides that, he was finding it damn hard to concentrate on anything but her.

He’d thought seeing her again would be easy. He’d thought he could look at her and not remember the passion that had once burned so briefly between them. But images of the past were blurring his vision, reminding him of the fool he’d been.

“How old do you think the babies are?” he asked after a moment.

“Five months, give or take.”

He walked over to the screen door leading out to the courtyard. “Do you have any idea who they might belong to, or where they might have come from?”

“No. No idea.”

He continued to look out at the courtyard, with its brick patio, its redwood lawn furniture and its huge pots of bright flowers. Rooms and a ground-level porch were built in a square around the small yard. Directly in front of him, on the south wall, a wrought-iron gate led outside, to the barns and stables.

From where Roy stood, he could see nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced at Justine. Her face was pale, and her fingers were nervously tracing a pattern on the edge of the laundry basket.

“Have you ever seen the twins before?”

“No.”

His jaw tight, Roy looked away from her. “I need to take a look around the place. Do I have your permission, or should I drive back to Carrizozo and get a search warrant?”

Justine’s lips parted as her eyes bored into the side of his darkly tanned face. “A search warrant? Do you think I had something to do with the twins appearing on the doorstep?”

He turned to face her. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Roy frowned at her incredulous expression. “This is your home, Justine, your property. Not mine. If you don’t want me on it, you have the legal right to see a search warrant. As a lawman—”

“You don’t have to remind me you’re the law of Lincoln County, Roy,” she said dryly. “I’m well aware that you are.”