Epilogue
"I thought you might be here."
Reede gave no impression of having heard Alex approach until
she spoke to him. He glanced at her over his shoulder, then
back at the two fresh graves. For a moment, there was an awkward
silence, then he said, "I promised Angus I would come out
every day to check on things. He's not feeling quite up to it yet."
Alex moved nearer. "I stopped by to see him this afternoon.
He made a feeble attempt to be the hale fellow well
met," she remarked sadly. "He's entitled to grieve. I told
him so. I hope he took it to heart."
"I'm sure he appreciated your visit."
"I'm not so sure." Reede came around to face her. She
nervously swept back her hair, which the strong wind was
blowing across her face. "If I'd never come here, never
reopened the case--"
"Don't do that to yourself again, Alex," he said fiercely.
"None of it was your fault. Nobody guessed the extent of
Sarah Jo's insanity, not even Angus, and he was married to
her. Junior. . . .Well. . . ." He stopped speaking, his throat
working convulsively.
"You'll miss him."
"Miss him?" he repeated with phony nonchalance. "The ,
dumb bastard. Running into a burning house about to collapse.
Only a goddamn fool would do something that stupid.''
"You know why he did it, Reede. He felt he had to." The tears shimmering in his eyes made Alex's throat ache with
the need to cry. She stepped forward and laid a hand on his
arm. "You loved him, Reede. Is that so hard to admit?"
He stared down at the flower-banked grave. "People always
talked about how jealous he was of me. Nobody ever
guessed how jealous I was of him."
"You were jealous of Junior?''
He nodded. "Of the advantages he had." He gave a dry,
derisive laugh. "I stayed mad at him most of the time for
squandering those advantages."
"We love people in spite of what they are, not because of
what they are. At least, that's the way it should be."
She dropped her hand from his arm and, trying to keep
her voice light and conversational, said, "Angus told me that
he plans to go ahead with the racetrack."
' 'Yeah. He's a stubborn old cuss."
"Your airfield will prosper." I
"It better. I'll be out of a job by the end of the year," he
told her. In response to her puzzled expression, he said, "I resigned. I can't sheriff and make anything out of that airport ; at the same time. It was time I either tackled it or let it go. I decided to tackle it."
"Good. I'm glad for you. Angus says you're considering
incorporating with him."
"We'll see. I'm going to buy another racehorse with Double Time's insurance money. I'm thinking about training
it myself. Angus wants to help."
She wasn't fooled by his casual treatment of the subject,
but she didn't pressure him about it. If she were a gambler, ,
she'd put her money on a future alliance. This time it would
be for Angus's benefit more than Reede's.
"What about you?" he asked. "When will you be going back to work?"
She dug her hands into her coat pockets and drew her
shoulders up. "I'm not sure. In light of my injuries--"
"How are they, by the way?"
"Everything's healing fine."
"No pain?"
"Not any longer. Basically, I'm as good as new, but Greg
told me not to rush back to work. He knows the strain I've
been under." She plowed into the soft earth with the toe
of her boot. "I'm not sure I want to go back at all." Sensing
his start of surprise, she smiled up at him. "You'll find
this amusing, Sheriff. I've recently realized how much empathy
I have for the accused. I might try defense law for
a change."
"Public defender?"
"Possibly."
"Where?"
She looked deeply into his eyes. "I haven't decided."
Reede began to rearrange the freshly turned earth beneath
his boots, too.' 'I, uh, I read your statement in the newspaper.
It was decent of you to close the case for lack of evidence,"
he said in a low voice.
"It really wouldn't serve much purpose to quarrel with the original ruling, would it?"
"No, it wouldn't, especially not now."
' 'Probably from the beginning, Reede.'' He raised his head
and gave her an appraising look. "You were right, all of
you. This investigation was self-serving. I used it and the
people involved to prove my grandmother wrong." She drew
a shaky breath. "It's too late for Celina to rectify her mistakes,
but I can certainly do something about mine."
She inclined her head toward the nearby grave, the older,
overgrown one, which now had a single red rose lying at the
base of the headstone. "Did you put that there?"
Reede looked across the two fresh graves toward Celina's.
"I thought Junior would like sharing a flower with her. You
know how he felt about the ladies." It was healthy that he
could smile when he said it.
"You know, I didn't realize that this was the Minton family
plot until the funeral the other day. Mother would like that,
being here with him."
"And he's where he always wanted to be. Near Celina,
with nobody between them."
Emotion welled up in Alex's throat and eyes. "Poor Stacey.
She never had a chance with Junior, did she?"
"No woman did. For all his philandering, Junior was a
one-woman man.''
By tacit agreement, they turned and started down the hill
toward their cars.
"Was it your idea for Stacey to move into the ranch house
for a while?" Alex asked, as she picked her way across the
grass.
He seemed reluctant to admit it. An affirmative rolling
motion of his shoulders was all he gave her for an answer.
"That was a thoughtful suggestion, Reede. She and Angus
will be good for each other.'' The late judge's daughter would
never feel kindly toward her, but Alex understood and could
forgive her animosity.
"Stacey needs somebody to fuss over," Reede said, "and
Angus needs that kind of attention right now."
Having reached her car, Alex turned to him and asked
huskily, "What about you? Who'll fuss over you?"
"I've never needed it."
"Oh, yes, you have," she said, "you just never let anybody."
She took a step closer to him. "Are you going to let
me leave town, walk out of your life, without making any
effort to stop me?"
"Yes."
She regarded him with love and frustration. "Okay, I'll
tell you what, Reede. I'll just go on loving you for as long
as I live, and you just go on resisting it." It was spoken as
a dare. "See how long you can hold out."
He angled back his head and gauged the determination in
her posture, her voice, her eyes. "You're too big for your
britches, you know that?"
Her responding smile was tremulous. "You love me,
Reede Lambert. I know you love me."
The wind lifted the tawny hair on his head as he nodded
slowly. "Yeah, I do. You're a pain in the ass, but I love
you." He cursed beneath his breath. "That still doesn't
change anything."
"Like what?"
"Like our ages. I'll get old and die long before you, you
know."
"Does that matter today--this very minute?"
"It sure as hell should."
"It doesn't."
Infuriated by her calm logic, he crammed his fist into his
opposite palm. "God, you're persistent."
"Yes, I am. When I want something badly enough, when
I feel that it's right, I never give up."
For several long moments he stared at her, at war with
himself. He was being offered love, but he was afraid to
accept it. Then, swearing liberally, he grabbed a handful of
dark auburn hair and pulled her toward him.
He reached inside her coat, where she was warm and soft
and giving. "You make a damn strong argument, Counselor,"
he growled.
Backing her into the side of her car, he touched her heart,
her belly, then placed a hand on her hip and bowed her body
against his. He kissed her with passion and love and something
he'd always had very little of--hope.
Breathlessly tearing his lips from hers, he buried his face in
the warmth of her neck. "In my whole life, I've never had
anything that belonged to me first, that wasn't a hand-me-down
or a handout--nothing, until you. Alex, Alex. ..."
"Say it, Reede."
"Be my woman."