She bounced on her toes, headed for the door, and spun. “Thank you, Uncle Hawk.”
A corner of his mouth tipped up, and he did that kinda half salute.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
There are very few personal problems that cannot be solved through a suitable application of high explosives. ~ Scott Adams
* * *
In his favorite armchair, Caz stared into the flames dancing behind the glass door of his red cast-iron stove. Winter was closing in, and the heat coming from the stove was comforting.
Not as comforting as it would be to have JJ leaning against him, sharing the evening. But the woman he’d come to think of as his had avoided him since their angry words on Monday.
This was Friday and the last day of November. She’d be gone in a little over ten days.
After losing his temper and calling her a coward, he’d backed off. He wasn’t the kind of man to browbeat a woman into doing something his way, overriding her concerns or wishes for her own life.
Well, that and he’d really thought she’d take time to overcome her instinct to run and then talk with him. Instead, she’d given Gabe her notice. Gabe was furious with them both. But Gabe…wasn’t the problem.
Dammit. Caz ran his hand through his hair. He and JJ needed to talk and figure this out. Somehow.
Because he wasn’t sure what to do. If he didn’t have any obligations, he’d find work wherever she would be happy. Not a problem.
But he had Mako’s mission. Bring Rescue back to life. It was a deathbed wish that Caz was archaic enough to find binding. The task required all four sons working together.
He had his brothers, who not only needed him pulling his weight with Rescue, but also in the family. Gabe was doing pretty well now. Bull, not so much. Although he never let anyone think he had problems, there were days when his drawn face and the dark look in his eyes showed he still suffered from PTSD. Even aside from being captured once, the SEAL had been involved in some ugly action.
And Hawk. Although home, he was messed up. Unlike the rest, he had nothing solid from his childhood to build upon. He needed them all to balance him out until he found himself again.
Finally, and most important, Regan needed stability. She was making a place for herself here, in the family with her uncles, in Rescue with Lillian who insisted on being Grammy, with Audrey who shared her joy of books. With her buddies, Niko and Delaney.
And with JJ. Caz picked up his bottle of water and took a sip. She hadn’t even been over to see Regan. Irritation rose within him. It was difficult to forgive her for abandoning Regan as quickly as she had him.
Although, Regan hadn’t asked about her. Caz frowned. In fact, his girl had gone from every other sentence of “JJ says…” to never mentioning her.
That was odd.
Even more odd was that tenderhearted JJ hadn’t asked him to explain her leaving or arrange to say goodbye to Regan.
His eyes narrowed. In the conversation on Monday, JJ hadn’t even mentioned Regan.
He raised his head to look toward Regan’s bedroom. She’d been very, very quiet for the past couple of days. Not sullen, but damned unhappy. She hadn’t wanted to talk with him about it.
Two silent females. Neither of whom was mentioning the other. What were the chances of that?
When JJ had scolded Regan in the past, Regan behaved like a typical child. A brief sulk, then back to normal with no hard feelings. She was much like him in that way. When Regan had yelled or snarked at JJ, the cop quietly corrected the disrespect. And was usually amused more than anything.
But…what if Regan had heard the gossip? Dios, he’d been an idiot. Of course she had. Small schools were rife with rumors. If Gabe had heard about Caz and JJ making out in public, so had Regan.
How would his little girl react to that?
She had adored JJ and wanted her around all the time. But, with the gossip, would she feel threatened instead?
His hot-tempered girl might well have taken JJ on. If Regan had been upset, JJ wouldn’t have argued. She’d have thought she should leave. She’d run from Rescue, from Caz, and she’d never put the blame on a child.
Yes, it must be something like that.
Caz winced. He’d called JJ a coward. All right, tomorrow, he’d tackle one female and then the other. Neither would escape a conversation with him, and he’d get to the bottom of this.
He rose and walked down the hall, needing to check on his little girl one more time. As he started to open the door, his shoulder slammed into the doorframe. For a moment, he felt drunk.
No, the earth was moving. In the kitchen, the dishware clanked. The fireplace tools rattled.
Earthquake.
Dropping to one knee, he looked toward the bed.
With a squeak of panic, she was clutching her pillow.
“Stay put, Regan. It’s an earthquake.”
The second the shakes stopped, he ran across the room to her bed. It’d been a mild quake. The power hadn’t even gone out.
“Mija? Are you all right?”
Face pale, she sat up in the bed. “Sirius ran away.”
Caz glanced around and finally checked under the bed. The wild-eyed feline stared back without moving. “He’s all right—just scared. He needs awhile to unwind.”
Dios, so do I. Sitting beside Regan, he pulled her close.
She laid her head on his chest. “We had quakes in Sacramento, but little ones. This one bounced me up and down.”
“Yes, it did.” A couple of books had fallen to the floor. Pictures were askew. Nothing looked broken.
“How come there’re quakes?”
“Ah. Because the ground way down deep is two big slabs of rock.” He put his left palm partly over his right hand. “When those slabs move against each other, everything shakes until they get back into balance.”
“Oh.”
“Do you know what to do in case of a quake?”
“Um. Drop?”
“Good. Drop to the floor, crawl away from anything that might land on you or anything like windows that might break. Best is if you hide under a table and hang onto it or curl up and put your arms over your head. Don’t try to run anywhere.” He frowned. “We get a lot of earthquakes in Alaska, so…it’s another situational awareness thing. Assess rooms and know where you’ll be safe. Where would you be safe in here?”
He felt her relax as she turned her attention from the scary earthquake to what she could do next time. She really was amazing.
“Um. Under the desk?
“Good. If you’re in bed, stay put, put a pillow over your head, and hang onto the headboard. Since animals scratch and bite, we let them hide on their own, sí?”
“Oh.” She nodded solemnly. “Sirius was a lot more scared of the earthquake than the blizzard.”
Smart cat.
“Okay, mija. I need to make sure everyone else is all right.”
She made no protest, but she was still wired up. Sleep wouldn’t come for a long while.
“I’ll leave the lights on, and you can read until I come back. Then we’ll share some hot chocolate.”
She nodded. “’Kay.”
“Brave girl.” He kissed her cheek, then headed out, donning boots and coat. The inner compound lights were on.
Gabe was on Bull’s deck, already checking on people. Typical cop. He spotted Caz. “Everything good, bro?”
“We’re fine,” Caz called. “I’ll pop over to Mako’s.”
“Good. I got Hawk and Bull.”
When Caz reached Mako’s deck, JJ was just coming out. Her boots and coat were on. “Oh. I was just heading over to see if you and Regan were okay.”
Gabe wasn’t the only cop in the Hermitage. “We’re good. Everything all right over here?”
“Only a few things were knocked over. That was quite a shake.” She saw Gabe moving from Bull’s house to Hawk’s. “Looks like you have things handled. I’ll go back in.”
“Wait.” In the bright floodlights
, he could see her swollen, reddened eyes. The dark circles beneath. She was hurting as much as he was. As Regan was. “We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “No. We don’t.” There was an audible quaver in her voice.
He was done with bullshit. “I know what’s going on, and we are going to talk. Now.” He snagged her wrist.
“Cazador.” She tried to brace her feet as he pulled her off the deck. “Dammit, stop it or I’ll hurt you.”
Curiosity engaged, he looked over his shoulder. “You think you’d win?”
“Maybe not”—she glared at him—“but you’d be in no shape to want to talk.”
“Caz, do you need—” Gabe stopped mid-sentence and eyed Caz. Then he scowled and turned to JJ. “You need help, JJ?”
It seemed Gabe was still angry about losing his officer. “You should answer him, princesa.”
“If I ask him for help, what happens?” Her gaze was wary.
Law enforcement officers with soft hearts had an exploitable vulnerability. “Then you will get to watch a fight before we have our talk.”
“Damn you,” she muttered, and her glare held enough heat to melt the snow from Lynx Lake. “No, Gabe. I’m good.”
“All right then.” Before turning away, Gabe shot Caz a warning look…followed by a slight nod. The chief was pissed off at losing his officer. The brother, however, hoped Caz would work things out with his love.
JJ let Caz lead her to his cabin. Once inside, he could see how she’d tensed. How she was closing off.
To keep from hurting Regan.
After tugging off her coat, he gripped her upper arms. Pushing her was the wrong way to have a discussion. Try a better approach. “I know you’re trying to cause the least amount of hurt—I see that, princesa.”
Her eyes reddened before she looked away. “Talking isn’t going to fix anything, Caz.”
“That is possible, sí. First, I’m sorry I implied you’re a coward. You’re not.” He cupped her cheek, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. Instead, he waited until she looked at him. “But, JJ, life doesn’t exist without pain. Breaking up hurts, losing someone hurts, being angry with someone hurts.”
She nodded. Her expression was unreadable. Her poker face.
“If problems remain unspoken, if anger isn’t dealt with, then hurt can linger. Can leave open wounds in the soul. I would ask, please, that we speak of what is happening and let the emotions air—no matter how uncomfortable—so healing can occur.”
She stared at him, and he saw the moment she understood.
“For Regan.” Her eyes closed for a moment as she pulled in a slow breath—and nodded.
Taking her hand, he led her to the living area and seated her in an armchair. Unable to help himself, he kissed the top of her head before heading down the hall.
He tapped on Regan’s door. “I want to see you in the living room now, please.”
“Coming, Papá.”
By the time he reached the living room, she’d joined him. As they walked across the room, she caught sight of JJ and stopped with a jerk. Her face went blank.
This wasn’t going to be easy, was it? He took her hand and led her to the couch across from the woodstove. “Sit there, mija.”
“Caz, I don’t know.” JJ was shaking her head.
“I do know. And I will begin.” Somehow. He wasn’t particularly diplomatic when his emotions were involved. Mako had taught them to speak bluntly and honestly. He paced in front of the stove. “I am very happy to have a daughter. I love you very much, Regan.”
She looked up at him and dropped her gaze back to her hands.
“I was hoping to have a woman to love as well. It was looking good. I need to know what happened.”
JJ shook her head, her gaze on Regan who hadn’t looked up. “Caz, I don’t think—”
He held up his hand. “A Mako rule is that a person be allowed his say”—he smiled briefly—“or fists fly.”
She frowned, but settled back.
“I’m not sure why there is a separation between the two of you. Perhaps because of the gossip about JJ? Does that have something to do with it? Regan?”
Regan bit her lip…and nodded.
* * *
JJ’s heart sank. Caz was wrong. This hashing-out discussion was too much to ask of a child, especially one who’d barely come to live with him. She started to rise.
Caz shot her a look that had her settling back. Regan was his daughter. JJ would have to respect that.
“Tell me what you heard, Regan.”
The girl shook her head.
Caz sighed. “This is a problem for all three of us, so we are going to be very honest with each other. Even when feelings might get hurt. Even when things are hard to say.”
And he waited.
JJ wanted so badly to take the little girl into her arms. Damn you, Cazador.
“I heard…” Regan’s big brown eyes met JJ’s and looked away. “That JJ’s doing sex with my uncles and you, Papá.”
“Ah. That’s a very good start.” His smooth, comforting voice was the one she’d fallen for at their first meeting. “JJ, can you give her the truth?”
What? JJ stared at him. He wanted her to tell his daughter all the truth?
He nodded.
Okay, fine. Not fine. Shaking inside, JJ pulled in a breath. “I’ve never done anything with your uncles.” Oh God. “But I am—was—having sex with your father.”
Regan blinked and then looked at Caz.
“Yes. JJ was spending the nights after you went to bed.” Caz rubbed his neck. “We should have told you. That was our mistake, and I’m sorry for it, mija—that you found out from others rather than from us.”
JJ expected Regan to shout, to do anything other than nod.
“What else did you hear?” Caz asked gently.
“Delaney’s mom said that”—Regan’s lip quivered—“that JJ’s only nice to me cuz she wants you for her boyfriend, and then she’ll make you get rid of me.”
The words were so soft that JJ barely heard them. “What?” The meaning became clear, and rage filled her. She jumped to her feet. “What?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“No. That’s just…just, no.” JJ realized she was looming over the child like a crazy person and dropped down beside her. Hugged the little girl. “No, no, I would never… Yes, I care for your daddy, but oh, God, Regan, you’re totally part of him. You’re so special to me—I would never want you to leave.”
Regan sagged against her, and the child was crying so hard that her words tangled together. “I’m sorry, JJ. I’m sorry I was mean to you and don’t be mad at me. Don’t go, please don’t go.”
“Honey…”
Regan lifted her head. Her dark brown eyes were so much like Caz’s. Tears poured down her face. “Please?”
JJ sighed and gathered her closer. “I’m not mad, sweetheart. I never was. But people will talk and—”
“They will talk.” Caz was smiling slightly, but his jaw was tight. “But, if you think about it, slandering someone is a form of bullying, no? Will you teach Regan that she should run away from bullies?”
The words were a slap to the face, to her pride, to everything she was.
JJ’s spine straightened, and a second later, she laid her cheek against the top of Regan’s head. The girl who was brave enough to stand up to her schoolyard bullies. Could JJ do less?
No. I will not teach her to run from the bastards in the world. No. “You’re right. Let them talk. I’m staying.”
Caz’s eyes softened. “That’s what I thought.”
He sat on the couch and put his arms around them both.
JJ felt her hopes rising and tried to put a curb on them. What if Regan changed her mind? She should have a chance to think. “Sweetheart, are you sure you’re all right with me and your father being together? I—”
Caz gave her a frown.
And Regan tore out of her arms and ran down th
e hall to her room.
JJ’s heart dropped. “I knew it.”
To her surprise, Regan ran back just as fast. She climbed back into the space between JJ and Caz as if it was her right, then pushed a folded up piece of paper into JJ’s hand. “I made this for you.”
Although her arms didn’t want to release the little girl, JJ sat up and unfolded the paper. And stared.
Caz leaned over to see.
The crayon drawing was of three figures—a man with dark brown hair, a child with longer brown hair. And a female—still no curves, JJ noticed wryly—with short red hair. The child stood in the middle. All three were holding hands.
Beneath was careful printing: “Papa and I love you, JJ. You should live with us in our house. Please don’t leave.”
A brown splotch appeared on the paper, and JJ realized tears were running down her face.
“No,” Regan wailed. “Don’t cry.” She flung her little arms around JJ.
The welling up of love almost choked the words away. “I love you, too, Regan. I love you.”
After Caz tucked his daughter into bed, JJ read her a story, which Caz figured had turned into two. Not a bad plan since his girls needed to spend time together. He’d like to claim that females were overly emotional but—he rubbed his chest—his own heart felt as if it’d taken a battering.
Dios, he was proud of them. Regan, who had moved past jealousy and insecurity into honesty. JJ, who would have left to give Regan more security—and now would take on the town to provide a good example. They were astounding.
He was very lucky to have them in his life.
Laughing softly, JJ came into the living room and plopped onto the couch beside him.
“What’s funny?” He handed her the glass of cabernet he’d poured and took a sip of his own.
She gulped down a big swallow and made a contented sound as she leaned against him. “Your daughter—who is not yet even a teenager—told me I should spend the night with Papá. In his bedroom. Your daughter, Doc Ramirez, is pimping for you.”
“Not a doctor,” he reminded and rose, pulling her up beside him. “We should do what our resident matchmaker says. I wouldn’t want to make her angry. I’ve heard she has a bad temper.”