boys.” He dropped his hand to curve it around her belly. “This girl.”
“You’ve always cared for us. Provided for us. I know it. God knows it. And so does the Reverend. That’s why he chose you to take over as the church’s state leader.” She clapped her hands. “I still can’t believe it—finally, all your hard work and sacrifice is going to be recognized.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I can’t believe it, either. I appreciate his faith in me, but sometimes Reverend Morrison seems to forget he’ll be moving on soon. I’ve asked him to let me preach to the congregation, but he’s dragging his feet. It’s as if he wants the seat his father-in-law will be vacating, but to keep his old one, as well.”
“It’s hard to let go of children,” Allison teased. “And the congregation has been his for so long, it’s very much like a child to him. Now he has Matthew. And as soon as he and Shannon take over as the church’s national leaders, the Reverend will find himself too busy to micromanage things here.”
She turned to put away a couple of shirts he’d decided not to bring with him and left on the bed.
“He’s always been too busy,” Clemmons muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. You’re right. You’re always right.”
She smiled at the way he echoed her earlier words.
“Dad!” A voice called up from downstairs. “Are we going?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like Evan’s ready now, as well. Better get this show on the road.” Again, he turned. Again, Allison stopped him.
“Wait! You’ve forgotten two things.”
“What’s that?”
“First, this.” She leaned up and gave him a long, tender kiss. Then, pulling away, she picked something up off the bed and handed to him. “And this.”
It was his favorite ten-gallon hat. The one she’d given him for their twentieth anniversary. Cream with a gold cross embroidered on the front.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
M ELISSA WAS LATE .
They’d agreed to meet at eleven thirty in the morning, and it was already quarter of. What was keeping her? And why wasn’t she answering her cell phone?
With an annoyed sigh, Natalie fiddled with her clothes, tugging at her collar and smoothing out her skirt with sweaty palms. After talking to Mac on the phone yesterday, she’d once again returned to her photographs, doing everything she could to make the images visible to her. She’d made them black-and-white, darkened the edges in Photoshop and zoomed in on them under her magnified screen. It hadn’t mattered. The only thing she’d seen were blobs of black and gray, with the hint of an occasional figure peeking through the mess. For the third night in a row, she’d gone to bed frustrated, Agent McKenzie’s words echoing in her head.
I’m through coddling needy women.
Her Google searches about him hadn’t come up with anything about his personal life, so she wasn’t sure what woman he’d been referring to. Probably a girlfriend. Even a wife. The very thought of those possibilities made her feel worse about her attraction to him. She imagined any woman worthy enough for the tough, charismatic detective would be strong and sexy. Capable of being independent, even if she actually wasn’t. Everything she no longer was.
Still, in an ironic twist, the same Google searches had fed her attraction, giving her insight into the man whose shadowed form had been enough to have her pulse pounding. He was clearly a talented and well-respected law enforcement officer. The Department of Justice’s website described its elite SIG unit as “the best of the best” in law enforcement, with its agents having training and experience similar to that of many FBI agents. Agent McKenzie led the unit, and according to his bio, he’d been a decorated homicide detective for fifteen years prior to that.
He sacrificed so much of his life to help others. That spoke volumes about his character and made her twice as anxious to help him if she could.
Even after she’d given
“You’ve always cared for us. Provided for us. I know it. God knows it. And so does the Reverend. That’s why he chose you to take over as the church’s state leader.” She clapped her hands. “I still can’t believe it—finally, all your hard work and sacrifice is going to be recognized.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I can’t believe it, either. I appreciate his faith in me, but sometimes Reverend Morrison seems to forget he’ll be moving on soon. I’ve asked him to let me preach to the congregation, but he’s dragging his feet. It’s as if he wants the seat his father-in-law will be vacating, but to keep his old one, as well.”
“It’s hard to let go of children,” Allison teased. “And the congregation has been his for so long, it’s very much like a child to him. Now he has Matthew. And as soon as he and Shannon take over as the church’s national leaders, the Reverend will find himself too busy to micromanage things here.”
She turned to put away a couple of shirts he’d decided not to bring with him and left on the bed.
“He’s always been too busy,” Clemmons muttered.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. You’re right. You’re always right.”
She smiled at the way he echoed her earlier words.
“Dad!” A voice called up from downstairs. “Are we going?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like Evan’s ready now, as well. Better get this show on the road.” Again, he turned. Again, Allison stopped him.
“Wait! You’ve forgotten two things.”
“What’s that?”
“First, this.” She leaned up and gave him a long, tender kiss. Then, pulling away, she picked something up off the bed and handed to him. “And this.”
It was his favorite ten-gallon hat. The one she’d given him for their twentieth anniversary. Cream with a gold cross embroidered on the front.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
M ELISSA WAS LATE .
They’d agreed to meet at eleven thirty in the morning, and it was already quarter of. What was keeping her? And why wasn’t she answering her cell phone?
With an annoyed sigh, Natalie fiddled with her clothes, tugging at her collar and smoothing out her skirt with sweaty palms. After talking to Mac on the phone yesterday, she’d once again returned to her photographs, doing everything she could to make the images visible to her. She’d made them black-and-white, darkened the edges in Photoshop and zoomed in on them under her magnified screen. It hadn’t mattered. The only thing she’d seen were blobs of black and gray, with the hint of an occasional figure peeking through the mess. For the third night in a row, she’d gone to bed frustrated, Agent McKenzie’s words echoing in her head.
I’m through coddling needy women.
Her Google searches about him hadn’t come up with anything about his personal life, so she wasn’t sure what woman he’d been referring to. Probably a girlfriend. Even a wife. The very thought of those possibilities made her feel worse about her attraction to him. She imagined any woman worthy enough for the tough, charismatic detective would be strong and sexy. Capable of being independent, even if she actually wasn’t. Everything she no longer was.
Still, in an ironic twist, the same Google searches had fed her attraction, giving her insight into the man whose shadowed form had been enough to have her pulse pounding. He was clearly a talented and well-respected law enforcement officer. The Department of Justice’s website described its elite SIG unit as “the best of the best” in law enforcement, with its agents having training and experience similar to that of many FBI agents. Agent McKenzie led the unit, and according to his bio, he’d been a decorated homicide detective for fifteen years prior to that.
He sacrificed so much of his life to help others. That spoke volumes about his character and made her twice as anxious to help him if she could.
Even after she’d given
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