Lullaby for Two / Child's Play: Lullaby for Two

The sound of her name in just that way twisted her heart. She confided, “I guess maybe there’s too much to say and I’m afraid the wrong thing will spill out. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret. And let’s face it, we never just talked about the weather.”

Now when she gazed into his eyes, his were conflicted with memories of everything they’d shared years ago—from dreams and plans to marriage and hopes for their baby.

Breaking eye contact, he opened the door to the diner.

The restaurant was empty but Tessa recognized the waitress wiping down the red counter. “Hi, Mindy.”

“Dr. McGuire! I haven’t seen you for a while.” She cast an assessing glance at Vince, then screwed up her face into an I-think-I-know-you look. “Aren’t you the new chief of police? Rossi, isn’t it? Aren’t you originally from Sagebrush?” She glanced quickly at Tessa and Tessa wondered if Mindy knew their story. But Mindy went on, addressing Vince again. “Dusty was telling me the guys were all nervous when they heard you were coming back, being a homicide detective and all. But he said you weren’t trying to make a whole bunch of changes and you seemed like a right nice guy.”

Vince’s complexion grew a little ruddier. Instead of commenting on what the waitress had said, he motioned to the glass-covered cake dish with its three doughnuts. “So this is where Dusty buys the doughnuts. They’re always gone ten minutes after he brings them in.”

Mindy smiled. “We’ve got the best baked goods in town. I’ve got half an apple pie left and you and Doc McGuire deserve a piece.”

She whispered in an aside to Vince, throwing her chin at Tessa, “The doc gives me samples for my boy when he’s sick, so I can stretch my tips a little further.” Motioning to the table back in the corner, she suggested, “If you two want some privacy, you can have the best table in the house. Tea for you, Doc?”

Tessa nodded.

“Black coffee for you, Chief?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess. You look like the type. Just made a new pot.”

Vince waited until Tessa was seated, then pulled out his own chair. After he sat across from her, he shook his head ruefully. “I’d forgotten everyone in this town knows everything about everyone else.”

“You’re a public figure.”

“Not for long.”

He was leaving. She had to remember that.

Swiping off his Stetson, he settled it on one of the chairs. “When I brought Sean in to see you, I forgot to ask for a recommendation for a physical therapist. It’s another two weeks until we see Dr. Rafferty and I want to make sure the exercises I’m doing with him are enough.”

“Unfortunately there aren’t any physical therapy practices in Sagebrush. You’ll have to go to Lubbock.”

“I’ll go wherever I need to go.”

She saw that he would. “I know several good therapists, but let me ask around and I’ll find out who’s best with a child Sean’s age.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

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?”