“Go inside,” he said flatly. “Get the hell out of sight.”
With one more wild look at the approaching headlights, Esther obeyed.
Chapter 5
C raig stood on the top step, waiting as the car approached. From inside the house, Guinevere barked, and he heard Esther shush her.
He was bound and determined that no one was going to hurt Esther Jackson while he was near enough to do anything about it. He’d gotten only the sketchiest glimpse of what her childhood must have been like, but he had no trouble filling in the blanks. Nobody, absolutely nobody, deserved the kind of treatment she’d had from her parents, and by God he was going to make sure that her father didn’t hurt her again.
A corner of his mind insisted on reminding him that he didn’t know this woman, that her problems were really none of his concern, but he paid it no heed. For even though he’d always been a loner, he’d also felt it was the obligation of a human being to get involved when someone needed help, and Esther Jackson plainly needed help. It was a purely humanitarian gesture, he told himself. There was nothing at all personal in it.
His hands clenched and unclenched as adrenaline began to pump through his veins. That damn car was sure taking its own sweet time getting here. He watched the headlights wind their way up the narrow dirt track, knowing full well no one was driving this way by accident. Whoever it was better have a damn good excuse.
As the vehicle drew close, he saw the silhouette of a rack of lights on top of it. A cop. That didn’t make him feel any easier. While a cop wouldn’t pose any threat to Esther, he was never going to forget being carted off to jail for a crime he hadn’t committed. If hell froze over and demons played with snowballs, he would never again feel easy around the police.
The sheriff’s Blazer pulled to a stop in front of him. The spotlight flashed on, nearly blinding him. He heard the car door open, then Virgil Beauregard’s voice reached him.
“Where’s Miss Esther, Mr. Nighthawk?”
“Inside. We didn’t know who was coming up the road, so she’s waiting inside.”
“Ask her to step out, please.”
Slow anger burned in the pit of Craig’s stomach. He understood perfectly that the cop was only doing his job, making sure that Esther was all right, but he didn’t like the assumptions behind it.
Esther had apparently been listening, because she stepped out onto the porch before Craig even turned to come get her. Behind her, through the screen door, Guinevere chuffed.
“I’m all right, Beau,” she told him. “Mr. Nighthawk and I were just having some ice cream together. I’d offer you some, but I suspect it’s all melted by now.”
The spotlight snapped off and Virgil Beauregard became visible. He approached them. “Sorry for the scare, Mr. Nighthawk, but we’ve been alerted to keep an extra sharp eye on Miss Esther, and I’ve never noticed her lights being on this late before. And I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”
Craig nodded, understanding but still irritated. There was no way he was going to tell anyone it was okay, not after his life had been destroyed by suspicions.
“Thanks, Beau,” Esther said. “I really appreciate you going to the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Miss Esther. Living this far away from everyone, you got no one to depend on except us.”
“And my neighbors,” Esther said warmly, resting her hand lightly on Craig’s forearm. “Would you like to come in for some iced tea? Or I could make coffee?”
Beauregard hesitated only an instant before accepting. Watching the other man climb the steps, Craig suddenly realized that Deputy Virgil Beauregard was sweet on Esther Jackson and she didn’t even realize it. And what he felt then was a hot surge of jealousy, fueled by her familiar use of his nickname. His jealousy heated up another notch when Guinevere greeted Beau as a long lost friend, and Beau returned the greeting with
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