Lullaby for Two / Child's Play: Lullaby for Two. Cindi Myers

      Mindy brought their drinks and pie.

      Tessa picked up her fork and took a bite, rolling her eyes in obvious pleasure. “This makes up for not eating supper.”

      “Did you work late?”

      “I always work late. It depends on how long rounds at the hospital take, if I have an emergency, if there’s a problem patient who runs overtime. There are never enough hours in a day.”

      They ate in silence for a few moments until Vince asked, “So your dad still raises cutting horses?”

      She hadn’t expected the subject of her father to come up again so soon. “He does. He has a manager and a trainer, so he doesn’t do as much of the training as he used to. But he pushes himself to stay moving so his arthritis doesn’t get the best of him.” She took another bite of her pie, though her stomach was churning. “But that isn’t really what you wanted to know, is it? If you want to ask me about him, go ahead.”

      He eyed her assessingly. “Does he still control your life?”

      Was that what Vince had always thought?

      He’d never really understood her relationship with her father. But she wasn’t going to be able to explain it to him over a ten-minute cup of tea. He’d never gotten to know her dad and that had always been part of the problem.

      Her father had been protective of her when she was a teenager, afraid Vince would ruin her life. That’s why he’d been opposed to them dating. When they’d married, he’d disowned her, hoping that would bring her to her senses. Instead she’d held on to Vince and the life they could have. Until she’d lost the baby.

      A protective urge rose up in her—the urge to protect her dad and to protect herself. It was close to anger, close to rebelliousness, close to all the words she’d never been able to say to Vince because he’d left and hadn’t wanted to hear them. “You said you wanted to chip at the ice walls between us. I don’t think this is the way to do it.”

      He leaned away from the table in obvious frustration. “I don’t know how else to say it, Tessa.”

      She saw he was being sincere. She matched that sincerity with the truth. “My dad and I are close, but we have separate lives. He respects the decisions I make.”

      “Did he ask you to come back to Sagebrush?”

      She’d never had a short fuse. In fact, she’d always thought she’d been blessed with an overabundance of the gift of patience. But Vince had always made her question herself and her feelings, what she thought and what she believed. She reacted more strongly whenever she was around him, to him and to everyone else.

      She tried to keep her voice steady. “Actually, he didn’t want me to come home. He didn’t think that was good for my career. But he got tossed by a two-year-old horse he was trying to gentle and broke his arm. He could manage. He had help. But when I came home to visit, I could see how he was slowing down. I’d been so focused on med school and residency, my visits had been brief. I took a good look at my life in California and didn’t feel particularly attached. When I heard about the Family Tree Health Center opening, I decided to take the opportunity to come back. Does that answer your question?”

      “Not exactly.”

      She laid her fork down, most of her pie uneaten. “Well, it’s going to have to do.” She picked up her purse and portfolio. “I’d better be going.”

      Vince stood, too.

      “You can finish.”

      “I’m not letting you walk back to your car alone.”

      “This is Sagebrush, Vince.”

      “Yes, and I’m the chief of police. I know what goes on here.” He took some bills from his wallet and laid them on the table.

      She was going to protest, say she’d pay her half, but the look on his face told her just to head for the door. After a wave at Mindy, she pushed outside. A second later Vince was beside her, silent, not brooding, but definitely pensive.

      After half a block he asked, “Did you miss anything about Sagebrush when you were gone?”

      A glance at him told her that was a serious question. “I missed the ranch—the horses and cats, and particularly the smells. You know, old wood, saddle leather, sage, brush, the sun heating the damp grass. Mostly I missed riding.”

      “You couldn’t find a stable in California?”

      “Oh, sure. I went riding a few times. But it wasn’t the same and I simply didn’t have the time. After my shifts, I was dead on my feet. I snatched sleep when I could, studied, and didn’t have much of a life outside of work.”

      “Were you in a pediatrics practice out there?”

      “After my residency. I also volunteered at a free clinic. But I knew I’d burn out if I kept working at that pace.”

      They walked another half block without speaking. Tessa, curious about the path Vince had taken, asked, “Did your law enforcement interest begin in the service?”

      “I was stationed at Kirkland Air Force Base in Albuquerque all four years because I was in law enforcement.”

      “But why the interest in the first place?”

      There was a very long pause before Vince answered, “You knew my mother left. What you didn’t know was that she was murdered.”

      Tessa stopped walking and turned to him, her hand on his arm. “Vince. I’m so sorry. You never said anything—”

      “It wasn’t something I wanted to remember or talk about. Still don’t, really. She left me and my dad, went to New Orleans and was murdered by a lover. That’s the long and short of it. So I guess I felt I was doing something to right what had gone wrong. That’s not rational of course, but it led me where I am.”

      She could feel his taut muscles under his blazer. In the glow of the streetlamp, she could see a beard shadow darkening his jaw. What she couldn’t see was the expression in his eyes under the brim of the Stetson that shadowed them. Even so, due to her imagination or not, she could feel heat emanating from him, rising up from her, and currents rushing from her body into his and back again. She let go of his arm.

      They began walking again and soon reached the school’s parking lot where their cars were the only two left. His was a silver SUV. Hers was a small blue sedan. They were both in the front line of the lot about ten spaces apart.

      He kept pace with her as she walked toward her car.

      “I’m fine now,” she assured him. “You can keep me in your sight as I get in and drive away.”

      “I will.”

      When he clasped her shoulder, she felt…fire. A rush of memories overwhelmed her. She would have backed away from them if she could have and from him. But his magnetic pull was too great to break.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked, though she suspected he knew.

      “We’re not strangers,” she murmured, knowing that definitely wasn’t the answer to his question.

      “No, we’re not. And even if we wanted to be, that wouldn’t change what we were to each other.”

      What were we? a little voice inside her head screamed. Yet, no matter what his answer was, it was too late. They were over. They’d been over for a long time.

      “You look scared.” Vince’s hand moved from her shoulder and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do I still have the power to move you?”

      Now she did force herself to back away from his touch…forced herself to remember the sadness, the grief and the loss. “It would be foolish of me to answer that question.”

      Yet she knew by saying it, she already had.

      Her