A Creed in Stone Creek Part 36

"Still," Melissa argued.

Steven put a hand on the small of her back and steered her to the bathroom door.

"Go," he said from behind her and close to her ear. "I'll go out to the RV and swipe something for you to wear. Put your clothes in the garbage bag-there's a good chance the forensics people will want them."

She nodded, without turning around to look at him, then pushed open the door and disappeared into the bathroom.

He waited until he heard the shower running, then retraced his steps to his bedroom. He stripped and stuffed his clothes into the second bag, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants he'd been meaning to throw away. After one last hurrah, their time would come.

Steven got out a shirt, socks and sneakers. He heard the shower stop, and imagined Melissa stepping naked out of the stall, drying off quickly, reaching for his robe and shrugging into it, cinching the belt up tight. The thought made him smile.

It also made him want to hold her. Skin to skin, yes. But the desire was more about knowing that Melissa was safe than it was about s.e.x.

They met in the hallway.

"I'll make coffee," she said.

"Good idea," Steven replied.

Fifteen minutes later, when he joined her, she was sitting at the kitchen table the movers had brought from his condo in Denver-it looked too modern for a ranch house and too small for that kitchen-but Melissa looked just fine.

She turned her head and he knew by the look in her eyes that her brain was in top gear.

Amazing, considering what she'd been through earlier in the evening.

"Hold on," he said, sounding gruff. "I'll be back in a minute." He took the keys to his parents' RV from the hook beside the back door and headed outside, taking Zeke with him. While the dog sniffed around and lifted his leg against an old wagon wheel half buried in the dirt, Steven unlocked the fancy RV and went in.

There were a couple of suitcases on the bed in the master s.p.a.ce, both open, but Davis and Kim hadn't unpacked yet.

Steven helped himself to a likely looking pair of jeans and a T-shirt with "Lonesome Bend Pioneer Days" imprinted on the front, but he didn't touch the bras and panties. He didn't know for sure, but he figured it was a fairly good bet that women didn't like wearing each other's underwear any better than men did.

No, Melissa would just have to go without. The thought made him smile again. And that was remarkable, considering.

He returned to the house, Zeke frolicking happily at his heels, and offered the jeans and T-shirt to Melissa.

Still sitting at the table, she accepted the neat little pile of clothes without comment, got up from her chair and went back to the bathroom to put them on.

She returned in time to drink the fresh coffee Steven had just poured into her mug. She reached for the cup and breathed the aroma in gratefully.

Kim was taller than Melissa, so the jeans and T-shirt looked a little big on her, but she didn't seem to care.

"What happens now?" she asked, after dropping back into her chair.

Zeke walked over and laid his muzzle in her lap, as if to offer comfort.

"Tom calls us in for questioning," Steven said, though he was sure she'd only asked rhetorically. "Maybe tonight, probably tomorrow." He turned a chair around, sat astraddle of it, with his arms resting across the back. "We're witnesses, counselor."

And I killed a human being, Steven thought. Steven thought.

A brief flash sparked in her eyes. "I know know that," she said. "I was talking about-I meant-what happens between us?" that," she said. "I was talking about-I meant-what happens between us?"

A grin tugged at the side of his mouth. "Not too long ago, a lady told me, with some emphasis, that there is is no us." no us."

Melissa sat up straighter, one hand curled around her cup, the other stroking Zeke's head. "That was before she-I-came face-to-face with my priorities. That happens, when you think you might die."

Steven nodded. His heartbeat quickened, but she had no way of knowing that, of course. A good thing, to his way of thinking. "What are your your priorities, Steven?" she asked. priorities, Steven?" she asked.

He took his time replying, even though the answers lived in the very cells of his body, little holograms, each one containing the whole. "Matt. His health and happiness and freedom, my own, my family's, and everybody else's. Knowing, when I'm about to fall asleep at night, that I did what I thought was right that day, even if things didn't turn out the way I hoped they would." He allowed himself a measured pause. "What about you? What are your priorities, Melissa?"

"The people I love matter most," she said, after taking a few sips of coffee. Her gaze was fixed on the far side of forever. "The law matters, because without some kind of social order, we're all in trouble." She looked down at Zeke. Smiled tenderly. "Animals mean more to me than I ever realized-they're so devoted and so loyal."

"Thinking of getting a pet?" Steven asked, when another silence fell.

She smiled, shook her head. "Not right away," she said. "But I think I'd like to work for Olivia's foundation, once my term as prosecutor is up. Livie and I used to talk about it a lot, how I could serve as a kind of animal advocate."

Steven took that in, along with a few sips of coffee. Tried not to look too pleased by what she'd just revealed. He would have bet his best saddle that this woman would remain the Stone Creek County prosecutor until her hair was tinted blue.

"That's-interesting," he said.

Zeke lifted his head off Melissa's lap and started barking again.

They heard the sound of an engine, the slamming of a door.

Brody poked his head into the kitchen a few seconds later. "Is the coast clear?" he asked.

"It's clear," Steven said.

Brody's smile broke over his face like a summer sunrise, full of light. "Good," he replied. "I'll go get Kim and Davis and the boy."

As quickly as that, he was gone again, and Zeke went with him.

Zeke had long since appointed himself the official welcoming committee.

Melissa bit her lower lip. "I know I should ask you to take me home, but-"

Steven closed his hand over hers. "But?"

"But I don't really want to be alone, and my family would make such a fuss over all the things that could could have happened-I don't think I can face that, tonight, anyway." have happened-I don't think I can face that, tonight, anyway."

"Stay with me," Steven suggested, husky-voiced. "I'll hold you. Nothing more than that, I promise."

Tears filled her eyes as she searched his for any sign of deception.

"Okay," she said, just as Matt burst into the house, with Kim and Davis and Brody and Zeke close behind.

MELISSA NOTICED THE PICTURE taped to the refrigerator door only after Steven had given Matt and the others a watered-down version of that night's events. Kim and Davis and Brody all listened intently. taped to the refrigerator door only after Steven had given Matt and the others a watered-down version of that night's events. Kim and Davis and Brody all listened intently.

He left several pertinent details out of his account-the fear they'd all felt when Martine was struck down with the b.u.t.t of Carter's pistol, the struggle for that weapon, the shot that ended the robber's life-but he still managed to convey a lot.

Yes, someone tried to rob the Stop & Shop. Yes, Melissa and I were scared. Both of us. No, I wasn't a hero.

"Yes, he was," Melissa disagreed, pulling her gaze away from the drawing of the stick-family Matt had mentioned earlier, in town, when the parade was about to end.

Kim smiled and tugged Matt onto her lap. "Why don't you get your pajamas and your toothbrush and come spend the night in the RV with your grandpa and me?"

The boy's eyes widened. He looked tired, but the things Steven had said had apparently calmed his fears.

"You'll be okay, Dad?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," Steven promised.

Matt turned to look up at Kim. "Can Zeke come, too?"

Davis answered for her. "Sure, he can," he said, his gaze moving to Brody, who was leaning against the counter, with his arms folded, watching them all. "There's plenty of room out there," he added.

Brody grinned, gave a little salute as an answer.

He was good-looking, Melissa thought, strangely detached.

"Will you still be here in the morning?" Matt asked, coming to stand next to Melissa's chair and looking up at her with what she read as a combination of concern and hope.

It was a tricky question. Melissa looked to Steven for help, but he said nothing.

Suddenly, Matt dashed over to the refrigerator and fetched the drawing, bringing it proudly back to the table to show Melissa. Tape still clung to its now ragged edges.

Steven cleared his throat. "Maybe you ought to go and get your pajamas and your toothbrush, as your grandmother asked you," he said to his son.

The glow in Matt's little face barely flickered. He nodded in response to Steven's words, but he was focused on Melissa and on the drawing.

"See?" he said. "It's the one I told you about, at the parade. There's me, and there's my dad, and there's Zeke. And there's you."

Melissa's throat ached. Her crayon image wore her hair up, and she had on what looked like a suit and carried either a very large purse or a briefcase.

"And this?" she said, indicating an equine-shaped creature.

"That's my horse. I'm getting one any day now. Grandpa Davis says if Dad doesn't get me a pony, he he will." will."

"Is that right?" Steven asked his father, in a low drawl.

"Let's all get us some shut-eye," Davis said, with bl.u.s.ter, exaggerating the yokel-speak a little. "There's a rodeo tomorrow, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I plan to be there in time to get a good seat in the bleachers, and that means I need my sleep."

Reminded of the rodeo, Matt forgot about the drawing and dashed for his room, returning p.r.o.nto with the things he would need for the impromptu sleepover.

Melissa felt a little guilty, knowing she was the reason Brody and Matt were sleeping in the RV instead of the house. Given what had happened, Matt might need need to be close to his father tonight, if only for the rea.s.surance that Steven was safe. to be close to his father tonight, if only for the rea.s.surance that Steven was safe.

That he he was safe. was safe.

Brody and Davis went outside, engaged in some quiet conversation of their own. Steven and Matt had gone back to Matt's room to get a clean pair of pajamas to replace the ones the little guy had chosen first.

"Steven seemed to think you wouldn't mind if I borrowed some of your clothing," Melissa said to Kim, when it was just the two of them, even more embarra.s.sed than before.

Kim patted her hand and smiled. "Don't you worry," she said. Her gaze moved to the drawing, still in Melissa's hands.

Matt's voice echoed in Melissa's head. There's you...there's you... There's you...there's you...

"Are you sure you're all right, Melissa?" Kim asked.

Melissa tried hard to smile. Shook her head. "I don't think so," she confessed. "It was so awful, especially when the gun went off a second time and I thought Steven had been-I thought he was dead or badly hurt-"

Kim rested a hand on Melissa's shoulder; her touch was light, but firm enough to be comforting, too. Out of the blue, Melissa thought of her mother, who had never really been there for any of her four children, and couldn't be there for her now, and a stab of regret and resentment hit her so hard that she nearly bent double.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," Kim suggested.

"No," Melissa said. "I'll be fine in the morning."

Just then, Steven returned with Matt, who was now outfitted in a pair of cotton PJs covered with tiny covered wagons, cacti and tepees.

"I'm the Colorado Kid!" he exulted, raising both hands as if the pajamas represented proof of his preferred ident.i.ty.

"You're a nut," Steven said, with affection, ruffling the boy's hair with one hand.

Kim stood, after giving Melissa one more concerned look, and made a big production of yawning and stretching.

"We'd better turn in soon, Colorado," she told her grandson. "It's getting late."

"Good night," Steven said to his stepmother and his son.

Melissa sat at the table, and Steven stood where he was for long moments after everyone else, including the dog, had left the house.

Melissa, who had spread the stick-family drawing out on the table in front of her, looked down at it. Her eyes were burning, and her throat felt thick.

Steven finally crossed to her, took her hand, raised her to her feet. Then he cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back so he could look straight into her eyes.

"All I want to do is hold you," he said. "But if you'd rather spend the night in Matt's room, that's fine, too."

"I want to hold you, you," Melissa replied.

He smiled. "Then we're on the same page," he told her.

His room, like Matt's, was on the main floor.

The bed was huge, and oddly modern-looking, given the rustic nature of the ranch house, and bra.s.s lamps shed pale gold light onto thick pillows. The linens were Egyptian cotton, unless Melissa missed her guess, with a very high thread count.

Was she channeling Ashley?