Page 69 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
Willow choked on a bite, pounded her chest with a fist, and took a swig of coffee to wash it down. That last sentence was underlined in different ink and far less faded. Had Jeremiah underlined it?
This was it, then. This was why Jeremiah Thorne was walking through Quinn in his old man’s footsteps with a metal detector. He thought he was fixing to find gold buried under the west Texas dirt.
The idiot.
She finished her burrito and shifted her attention to the background check. Now that she knew what she was looking for, it ought to be pretty easy to figure it out.
Jeremiah was sitting on the narrow wooden platform in front of the bunkhouse. It was more an apron than a deck. He’d pulled one of the kitchen chairs out and had it tipped back on two legs. “To hell with her, then,” he said to himself for the tenth time, and he still didn’t mean it. Why couldn’t he brush Willow off the way he would anyone else who’d turned on him?
“She’s the law.” He’d reminded himself of that a hundred times, too. “The law is always the enemy.”
Beans barked, and Jeremiah threw the tennis ball again. The dog loped after it, then came back, the entire ball concealed in his mouth, between those long, floppy jowls. He dropped it on the towel in Jeremiah’s lap, along with a liberal slathering of drool, which was the reason for the towel.
A bicycle came down the dirt driveway, under the Texas Brand arch, then veered off toward the bunkhouse. He’d been expecting this visit.
Frankie jumped off the bike and let it roll on without him as he ran forward. “Beans!”
“Woof!” said Beans, as he ran to greet the kid, slamming his paws into Frankie’s chest. Somehow staying upright, Frankie wrapped his arms around Beans and let him lick his face.
What the hell was happening? Jeremiah's throat was all tight and his eyes burned. That was… Man, what was happening to him?
He swallowed past a lump, wished he had something to drink, and said, “I’ll get you a pop.”
Frankie either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He was on the ground, alternately hugging and playing with Beans. The pup was over the moon. It wasn’t right those two had to live apart from each other.
He went inside, got a couple of Cokes from the fridge and took them back out. Frankie came to the stoop and took one, then he sat right on the floorboards with his feet on the ground. Beans turned in a circle, then laid right beside him, and settled his great big, oversized head onto the kid’s lap. He sighed and closed his eyes.
“He missed you.”
“I missed him, too,” Frankie said, petting him. “I can’t believe how big he’s got! And it’s only been a couple days.”
“Almost big enough to handle two little sisters,” he said.
Frankie lowered his eyes. “They went to the live with their dad. See we have the same mom, but different dads. And then our mom died.”
“And your grandparents took you in. Your mom’s parents?”
“Yeah.”
“So it’s just you and your grandparents now?”
“For now.”
“So then…do you want to take Beans back?” His heart hurt when he said the words.
Frankie shook his head, and looked as if his heart was hurting, too. “Gram and Gramp are too old. Gram falls down a lot as it is, and he’s so big and clumsy.” He looked around at Jeremiah and his big brown eyes hit hard. “Do you mind keepin’ him a little longer?”
“I don’t mind a bit. I’ll be sad when you do take him home. Listen, you rode your bike here, right? From where? Where do you guys live?”
“Not far, Oakley Road. Shitty house, though.”
He didn’t correct the kid for language. Screw that, he’d been through hell. If he wanted to swear, he could swear.
“There’s a better one just around the corner from us right by the creek. I’m gonna live there someday. It’s for sale, too!”
“Yeah?”
“Heck yeah. Gramp says we can’t afford it and I shouldn’t dream beyond my means.”
