Grissom (In the Company of Snipers #26)

Chapter Eight

The first day of counseling went well. The horse therapy that followed did, too. As Maverik would say, this wasn’t their first rodeo. Grissom had brought his boys horseback riding here at TEAM HQ stables before. Many times. Since he’d moved his family to the East Coast, riding Maverick’s so-called ‘kids’ had been a regular guy-thing Grissom did with his boys. They’d don their cowboy duds and boots, and for a few hours each weekend, as many as they could get away with, they’d left the troubled McCoy household behind and pretended they were cowboys riding the range. He hadn’t called it therapy back then, but he’d known about Maverick’s Everyone’s a Cowboy program when he’d still lived in Washington. If being outdoors with horses, fresh air, and most importantly, his boys, was therapy, they could call it whatever they wanted. He was done being stupid and proud. He didn’t matter. Only Tanner and Luke did.

The first time riding these large animals, sure, they’d been leery of getting near, much less sitting on top of horses so high off the ground. Adult Percherons were not kid-size, not by a long shot. Averaging sixteen to eighteen hands high, they were intimidating beasts of burden with wide, muscular backs and big heads. But they were also enthusiastic workers with strong, intelligent personalities, known for their good dispositions and overall gentle natures. Because he was too young to ride alone, Luke still rode with Grissom. Not Tanner. Once he’d understood the nuances of communicating with Star, his favorite, through the gentle use of voice, reins, and the pressure of his knees and boots, shy Tanner had blossomed into a natural cowboy. It didn’t hurt that he idolized Maverick or that Maverick kept a pint-size saddle on hand for the six-year-old Wyatt Earp now snuggling his face into Miss Smart’s neck.

Damned if she wasn’t a pretty sight for Grissom’s sore eyes and his weary heart. He couldn’t help smiling at the impressive pink blush creeping over her cheeks. She probably realized now that Luke had never been in real danger, and that she might’ve overreacted a little. But hearing her tell Star to, “Buzz off!” and hearing her call Luke, ‘my sweet little boy,’ had nearly taken Grissom to his knees. There sat a complete stranger, on the ground, in a pasture full of horses, and, well, horse shit, which was definitely stuck to the bottoms of her boots, maybe even her backside. Yet there she stayed, seemingly content and loving on his boys like their mother had never, ever done.

Blowing a longer-than-normal breath to steady his frayed nerves and trying to figure out how not to make Miss Smart feel worse, he admitted, “I’m not really sure how it happened, but the police report claims I plowed my bike into the rear end of a FedEx delivery truck and—”

“And the truck won,” she said softly. “I remember Mr. Finnegan saying that. When did it happen?”

He swallowed hard. “A few days before Costa Rica. I was, umm, hospitalized for a while.” No way was he mentioning that, that... What was its name? Sugar Lane Asylum? Walnut Creek Nut House? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Are you okay now?”

“Ah, yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.” And why did the sound of her voice soothe away his frustration at not being able to think straight?

Damn. Miss Smart was a good-looking woman, and he was a sucker for green eyes. Her brown hair was long enough it hung over her shoulders and into her face like a tangled jungle waterfall, its wispy fingertips caressing her full breasts. Didn’t hurt that those tempting breasts were testing the tiny buttons on her shirt. The kill shot she couldn’t possibly know she’d fired straight into his heart, was how gently she was holding his grubby, sweaty boys. Both of them. Like she’d truly missed Tanner and Luke and couldn’t bear to let them go. Grissom couldn’t make himself look away from the concern shining in her eyes—concern for him. Of all people, she seemed worried about him, too.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied hoarsely. “Little by little, I’m… I’m getting better.” What the hell was wrong with his vocal chords? He sounded like a damned frog.

“Please, just Tuesday.”

“Same here. Grissom. Not Mr. McCoy.” Because I am not my dad.

“Too-Day!” Luke chirped. “Call her Too-Day, Daddy. Like I do!”

“Yeah, but you’re saying it wrong,” Tanner cut in. “You talk like a baby. It’s Tues—”

“I not a baby. You are!”

“No, you are!”

“Boys,” Mr. McCoy warned quietly. “How do we behave in the presence of company?”

“Like gentlemen with good manners,” Tanner declared with his chin up. Right before he stuck his tongue at Luke and informed him, “See? I know how to treat ladies, but you don’t.”

“Do too!” Luke yelled, his face getting redder.

That’s when it happened. Tuesday tipped her head back and laughed. Instead of being annoyed and swearing and hurting their feelings like Pam would have done, Tuesday let loose the most beautiful sound Grissom had ever heard. Full of joy and love and all those things a mother should shower over her children, it was as rare as a hummingbird lighting on his finger. He couldn’t help it. He fell head over heels in love with this beautiful woman.

This had to be the first time she’d witnessed the competitive streaks both McCoy boys harbored. The sound coming from her throat was the sweet tinkling of stars falling from heaven, each touchdown a bright, crystal vibration striking Grissom’s heart, pouring peace over him, maybe even into him. No one had ever—ever—loved or enjoyed his kids like this woman was. Other people’s kids were annoying to most folks, tiny people to be endured, not enjoyed or valued. Many times, not even treated with any measure of respect. But Tuesday still had her nose in Luke’s messy hair, and Tanner had his arm stretched around her shoulders as far as he could reach, and—

Grissom’s eyes watered. What was in the air? He wasn’t allergic to anything. But his brain had conjured up a picture of Tuesday Smart sitting on his couch in front of the large stone fireplace in his new house, reading to Tanner and Luke, both of them snuggled on her lap, in her warm arms, and—

The idyllic image morphed into Grissom with his head on her lap. Her fingertips in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, and—

Get a grip. He had no business lusting over this woman just because she’d saved his sons from their sadistic mother . Tuesday wasn’t a plug-in-mom, and he wasn’t in the market for a replacement for Pam. Hell no! He was no prize. Hell, he was barely coming to grips with the mess he’d made of his life. What could she possibly see in him? Nothing. Because there was nothing to see.

‘Forget Tuesday, dumbass!’ the childish memory forever stuck in his brain screamed. ‘Last thing you need is a relationship. Any relationship, you shithead! You didn’t even pass algebra!’

Damned if the soft-spoken, counseled and healing part of his brain didn’t whisper patiently, ‘For now, Grissom. Forget her, but just for now…’

He shook off the echo of his mother’s nagging voice. Counseling had taught him to focus on the here and now, not the condemnation of Christmases past, nor the wishful thinking of Christmases future. Both were partially right, yet equally detrimental to healing and moving forward. One haunted a past he couldn’t do anything about. The other taunted a future that might never exist. He now knew that he was prone to use what had happened in his past life to beat himself up. Once he’d realized he was in charge of either sabotaging or helping, he’d become a determined son of a bitch, intent on moving forward and giving his boys the best lives he could.

Tuning out the lady in question, he zeroed in on the lesson Tanner needed to remember. “Remember how some of us guys develop later in life?” he asked in a calm, reasonable, and, most of all, fatherly voice.

That brought Tanner’s brown-eyed gaze up to his. “Oh, yeah. I… I do, Dad. Sorry. I forgot but I remember now, yeah, and I can be a nicer big brother,” he replied quickly. Then, turning to Luke, he said, “I’m sorry. I love you and you’re a good boy. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

Wow. If that didn’t put tears in Grissom’s eyes, nothing could. He brushed a hand over his face before anyone saw. Kids. They did say the damnedest things. Before he could praise Tanner for using his exact words, Tanner asked Tuesday, “Wanna go to Cakes and Honey with us?”

Oh, shit. She looked to Grissom as if he were the decision-maker. The simple understanding he read in her eyes, the acknowledgement that she was the stranger and had eagerly deferred to him, took her up a couple more notches in his esteem. She respected him. That was new.

Like the lovesick idiot he’d turned into, Grissom explained. “Cakes and Honey’s a local diner that serves breakfast all day. They’re famous for their pancakes, but you can get lunch or dinner there, too. Everything they serve is homemade and it’s all good. Us guys go there after we’re done playing cowboy.” He reached for her. “Need a hand up?”

Tanner and Luke bounced quickly to their feet, but the moment Grissom wrapped his fingers around Tuesday’s much smaller, more slender, very feminine hand, his heart stuttered. Touching her felt as if he’d grabbed a live wire. She must’ve felt the shock too, the way her shoulder jerked. But he wasn’t ready to let her go. His fingers tightened instinctively, as if losing this connection would hurt him worse than hanging on would. Most likely, whatever might happen between Tuesday and him would kill him. He was the weak link in this—whatever it was. First date? Only date? Not a date? He had no idea.

“Sounds good,” she replied, relaxing her grip into a ‘maybe,’ instead of the ‘hell no!’ he thought he’d felt seconds ago.

Every last one of his misgivings evaporated in the light of her willing acceptance.

With a gentle tug, Grissom pulled Tuesday up off the ground. He didn’t tug her into his arms and against him like he wanted, though. The urge was surely there. It was almost irresistible and he would have, until smarty pants Tanner announced, “There’s no shit on her bum, Dad.”

Which made Tuesday laugh even as she twisted to look at her backside.

“Geez, Tanner, thanks for telling the whole world,” Grissom teased. “Ladies don’t want everyone looking at their, umm…” Butts. Yet there he was, looking at said ass and appreciating the skinny jeans covering it and her long legs, like a coat of denim blue paint he wanted to scrape off with his teeth. Naturally, her gaze darted to his face at the same time his stupid male tongue ran a hungry lap around his lips. Both of them. Man, he was pathetic.

The only thing that dragged his mind out of the gutter where it had run—not wandered, not even strolled, the damned horny thing—was when Tuesday stuck her tongue out at him. The laughter dancing in those pretty eyes was rain falling in a desert that hadn’t seen water in years. And he was that bone-dry desert. She wasn’t mad or offended, wasn’t the tiniest bit perturbed. Damned if she didn’t turn to Luke and tell him, “You’ve got better eyes than me, little guy. Make sure I don’t have a speck of horse shit on me, okay?”

Like the innocent child he was, Luke puckered his lips in all seriousness and looked her backside over before announcing, “I don’t see no poop on your bum. Let’s go! I hungry!”

“You’re always hungry,” Grissom said, as he hefted a boy into each arm.

“Uh-uh, you don’t get them both,” Tuesday protested. “Who do I get to carry?”

Immediately, both boys reached for her, and the fight was on.

“Me!” Tanner yelled. “Carry me! Ple-e-e-e-ease? I’m bigger than Luke, but I don’t weigh much, and I promise I won’t wiggle like he always does.”

“No, me!” Luke yelled louder. “I smaller. Me, me, me!”

Grissom tipped back on his heels to keep from falling into Tuesday. “Hold on, guys!” He laughed, and wasn’t that the oddest sound? Him? Laughing? He hadn’t laughed in a long damned time, but there he was, happier than he could remember being—ever.

To end the argument, he tossed Tanner over his shoulder, then made sure Tuesday had a good grip on Luke before he let go of his youngest.

Tanner twisted around and complained, “Aw, Dad, that’s not fair. He always gets his way.”

And like the two-foot bully Luke could be, he crowed, “I winned! I winned! I a winner! Tanner’s a loser!”

Instantly Grissom shifted into protective mode. Tanner wasn’t a loser and those were Pam’s mean words. He opened his mouth to correct the cute little bully, but by then, Tuesday had tossed him over her shoulder and a teasing grin spread over her face. “You think Cakes and Honey can use a couple more bags of potatoes, Grissom?”

Man, he loved hearing his name coming out of her mouth. And Luke was just a baby parrot at heart. He hadn’t meant anything cruel. Grissom landed a gentle smack on Tanner’s denim-padded backside. “One way to find out, ma’am.”

Tuesday turned toward TEAM HQ with a bright, “I’ll drive. My car’s parked right over there.”

“Nah, I’ll drive. My truck’s closer. It’s in the barn. That way we can toss these bags of spuds in the back and be done with them.”

“Yeah! Throw us! Throw us!” both boys yelled at the same time.

Grissom’s cheeks were beginning to hurt. He hadn’t smiled this much in years. And never, not once in his life, had he been drawn to a woman like he was to Tuesday. Was she for real or was she hiding an evil personality beneath the glam? Was he under a spell, like he had to have been under that one night with Pamela? Was Tuesday just another hard-earned lesson lurking in his future? God, he hoped not. Most of the guys on The TEAM were happily married. Happiness was possible. He’d seen it with his own eyes.

But he hadn’t grown up trusting women, an early lesson his mother had taught, then enforced regularly. Looking back, he’d always known something was wrong with her, that not all moms had vicious streaks. The fact that he’d married a woman exactly like her didn’t speak well of his ability to navigate the world of women. Not that he’d had a choice. When it came to accepting responsibility for fathering his firstborn, he would gladly endure a dozen Pams. He would. For Tanner and Luke, he’d do anything. No child should ever have to learn how tough life was as a newborn. Or face it alone. Not a day went by he wasn’t thankful for the two steady lights in his life, which brought him back to Tuesday. She wasn’t anything like his mother or his deceased wife.

Damned if the evil witch sitting on his shoulder didn’t whisper, ‘ So far, asshole. Just you wait and see.’

Grissom brushed his mother’s mean spirit away yet one more time. He’d read the newspaper accounts of the standoff in Little Rock, Arkansas. As pretty as she was, Tuesday seemed tougher and, at the same time, kinder than the two females in his past life. She’d had a shitty life, too, losing her parents like she had, then losing the older gentleman she’d married to that cold-blooded murderess, Maeve Astor. Among the long list of heinous atrocities Astor had committed, she’d poisoned Mr. Lamb. Those were damned hard blows for anyone to have to deal with, much less a teenager. They’d turned Tuesday into a recluse who preferred the far-off solitude of the Arctic and Antarctic. Or so the press said, not like they printed the truth anymore. Still…

He sensed a canyon of lonesomeness behind her cheery fa?ade, and he had the strangest need to vanquish the demons causing that pain. If the bright light dancing out of her green eyes every time she spoke with Tanner or Luke was any indicator, she was not the hermit the press had portrayed her to be. She wasn’t just talking at his boys. She was actively engaged with them. She was interested and listening. Hanging on every word. Enjoying them. Treating them with respect. Even now, with Luke riding high on her shoulder and giggling like a… a three-year-old. Damned if both his sons weren’t acting like kids again. Grissom knew damned well he owed that positive change in their lives to the woman who’d taken them in when their mother had thrown them out.

Like the damned sullen cowboy he was, TEAM Agent Maverick Carson stood at the double-wide side door that led to the barn’s inner sanctum. ’Least that was what his wife China called it. Maverick’s one knee was bent, the heel of that dusty boot braced against the side of the barn. His black Stetson was low over his forehead. A scuffed, black leather holster hung low on his hips. Neither pistol strap was secured, which meant both weapons had a round in their chamber, common practice for people who always carried.

If Grissom didn’t know better, he’d think he was looking at a gunslinger, not another victim of the war in Afghanistan. Maverick had lost his brother, another jarhead, in an operation where the intel had been flawed. Make that FUBAR, as in fucked up beyond all recognition. He’d been on the same hillside, in the same ambush, the day his life went to hell. That event and a later altercation with another TEAM agent over a woman, precipitated Maverick quitting The TEAM and walking all the way to Wyoming—just because.

Grissom knew damned well that, somewhere during that marathon journey, Maverick had intended to disappear himself off the face of the earth. Instead, he’d met China Wolfe, a well-known Wyoming horse breeder and the proud owner of the Wild Wolf Ranch. She gave him a job. He helped her out of an ugly situation with her sister. In the end, her sister committed suicide. China still owned the ranch and a sizable parcel of land in Wyoming, and their new ranch wasn’t far from TEAM HQ. Maverick was once again a trusted TEAM agent, as well as China’s husband and father to her adopted daughter, Kyrie.

He might not look the type, but Maverick was also the light at the end of Grissom’s tunnel. If Maverick could put his life back together after all he’d lost—and he’d lost plenty—Grissom could do it, too. Losing Pam was no loss. He counted that a total plus. Good riddance. All she’d ever been was the biggest mistake of his life, and he was damned glad that chapter was over. But he’d die if anything happened to his boys.

“Hey, Grissom. Who’s your girlfriend?” Maverick asked, sticking a finger into the brim of his hat and pushing it back.

Grissom set him straight. “She’s not my girlfriend. Tuesday Smart, meet Maverick Carson. He and his wife own these horses.”

Tuesday stepped forward, her right arm extended, the other still flat on Luke’s wiggling rump. “Mr. Carson, good to meet you.”

“Maverick,” he grumbled, even as he straightened to attention and took her hand in his. “Likewise, Ms. Smart,” he said more politely. The guy was tall, lean, and dark-haired. Damned if his brown eyes weren’t attentive as hell now that he had a pretty lady in sight. The dog.

And damned if him touching Tuesday like she’d just said something fascinating—which she hadn’t—didn’t irk the shit out of Grissom. Maverick had big, capable hands that had gentled many a skittish horse or fearful rider. He had no business stepping in so close to Tuesday and touching her like he was. He was holding onto her hand too damned long.

Not like Grissom cared. He didn’t. Didn’t know why the sight of her slender fingers caught in Maverick’s powerful paw bothered him, either. Grissom had no business worrying about Miss Smart. She was a professional. She didn’t need him to interfere and could certainly handle Maverick on her own. She’d probably seen more of the world than he had, and she certainly knew how to handle a weapon, if Heston’s yammering about her cool head and sharp shooting was fact, not fiction.

“Everyone’s a Cowboy, huh?” Tuesday asked when Maverick finally released her. With a feminine grunt, she leaned over and set Luke’s feet on the ground. “Brilliant concept, but isn’t this breed a little large for most handicapped kids?” she asked once she was upright again.

“Nah,” Maverick replied, staring over her head at Star, the nosey gelding who seemed to love human company more than he liked hanging out with his four-legged buddies. “First thing we do is let them handle and get to know the horse they’ll be riding, from a loading ramp. Next, we teach ’em how to saddle up and mount, if they’re physically able. Nothing to it once they’re comfortable being around our kids. We start our severely handicapped clients with one of our miniature donkeys unless they insist on a horse. Percherons aren’t all we breed. We’ve got a few quarter horses. Vanners, too. Hop up on Star, why don’tcha? He’ll show you how good all my kids are.”

“There’s that word again, kids. Do you really see kids when you look at these” —she waved a hand at easy-going Star— “giants?”

A genuine grin cracked Maverick’s ugly face. “Yes, ma’am, I do. Raising horses is no different than raising kids. It’s not rocket science.” He was flirting! The ass! “All you gotta do is love ’em and never let ’em down. You’ll see soon as you git up on Star. He’s a good kid to start with.”

She cocked her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Sure!” Tanner exclaimed. “Dad! Let’s go riding with Miss Tuesday. Please?”

Grissom coughed. He’d been so focused on Maverick’s flirtation that he nearly forgot he had an audience.

“Yeah, Daddy! Pleeeezzzzeee,” Luke asked, both pudgy hands clasped under his chin. Someone must’ve told him that pose made him look adorable. Which it did and he was, the little turkey.

If the way Tuesday’s top teeth were worrying her bottom lip was any indication, she was tempted. “Your call,” Grissom told her, puzzled at why his mouth was dry and his heart was thumping. Now was not the time for a panic attack, damn it.

“Your horses are still saddled” —Maverick aimed a spiked brow at Grissom— “because some guys ran out of the barn when they should’ve been brushing their rides down.”

“Get over it, Carson,” Grissom growled. “My kids’ll always come first.”

Luke giggled, and Tuesday did a funny thing with her face, making an upside-down ‘oh, oh’ smile that stretched the chords in her neck. “Oh, my. I haven’t been on a horse in years.”

By then, Tanner and Luke each had one of her hands and were pulling her deeper into the barn. “Please, please, please!” they chanted in unison.

“Might as well, ma’am,” Maverick declared with the same cavalier tone he’d used when he’d said raising horses was as easy as raising kids. “Only takes a minute to saddle another horse, right, Grissom?”

Tuesday’s shoulders lifted, and Grissom blinked, then blinked again. Talk about adorable. But another close encounter with Tuesday Smart might get him hurt and hurt bad. Could he risk his boys’ hearts along with his? Because that was what he was doing. Taking a chance. On a woman. Again.

He opened his mouth to tell everyone, ‘No,’ when Tuesday murmured a timid, “Well, okay. A short ride wouldn’t hurt, I guess. As long as you’re sure?”

She directed the question at Grissom. Was he sure? Oh hell no. He had no idea how to answer or what she wanted him to say. But could he resist the trepidation shimmering in those glistening emerald eyes? Was she afraid of him hurting her or him getting too close? Did she honestly think he’d hurt her? Not happening. Not ever. Or was she just worried, like he was, where this one ride could lead? Going to lunch with his boys seemed innocent at first glance. She’d be on one side of the table. He’d sit with his boys across from her. No danger of touching, and they could part as friends. Nothing more.

But on a day like this? With Christmas Eve and all the emotions that went with it only hours away? Every shattered childhood dream? All those unrealized expectations? The nasty legacy of his mother screaming because his dad never did anything right? Of Pam screeching at frightened Tanner and Luke because they woke her too early?

This Christmas would be the first without What’s-Her-Name. Grissom had their letters to Santa. He knew what they wanted, and every last item on those wish lists was already bought, paid for, wrapped, and hidden. The shrew who’d ruled their lives for the last seven years was gone. They were finally free to be themselves, just three happy-go-lucky guys who believed in Santa and elves and flying reindeer. They didn’t need anyone else, certainly not someone as capricious as a… a woman as beautiful as… as Tuesday.

Masterfully, and despite his very reasonable misgivings, Grissom replied, “Sure. We’ll ride the loop up to the border of the national park and have you on your way by suppertime.”

There. That set a firm boundary. Tuesday could go for a ride with them, but he’d drawn a line. The McCoy boys didn’t need her. Why take the chance? Why lead her on? He wasn’t what she was looking for, and he didn’t have it in him to sweet talk her and pretend he was. Life had been cruel enough for both of them. What could possibly come out of two damaged people getting together? If that was even what she wanted. Maybe she just wanted to spend another day with his boys. Yeah. That made more sense. What would one innocent horseback ride hurt?

“Smooth move, dickhead,” Maverick muttered under his breath, loud enough Grissom caught it.

A nasty response came swiftly to his lips, but Grissom held it back. No sense returning tit for tat. Swallowing hard—or trying to—he followed his boys and Tuesday Smart into the barn. Apparently, he wasn’t done playing cowboy yet, but this ride would be quick, sweet, dirty, and...

No. Not sweet and not dirty. Just quick, damn it.