Man with a Past by Kay Stockham Read Free Book Online

of his rant and he turned to find Melissa’s face buried in her hands, shoulders quaking. He moved back over to her bed and sat on the edge. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said— Mel, don’t cry.”
    She shook her head firmly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry. If I could only change—”
    â€œWhat?” he murmured. “None of us knew. I’m a lawman and didn’t suspect Joe could do something like that. But it’ll be all right. Everything will be all right,” he soothed, even though they both knew good and well it could go either way. Just like it had with her mother.
    Please, God, please don’t take her, too.
    Hal pulled his daughter into his arms and held her for a while, rocked her back and forth on the bed like he had when she was little and she’d had a bad dream.
    After a bit Mel pulled herself together and he kissed the top of her head, then gently pushed her away from him with his hands at her shoulders. Once she relaxed against her pillow, he grabbed a tissue from the box by her bed and handed it to her.
    â€œDry your eyes and blow your nose. I’m going to go heat up some of those dumplings for us.”
    She did as she was told, sniffling. Silent. But he could see her mind working. See her remembering. “No more worries, Mel. I’ll take care of Joe Brody.”
    Because if he ever comes near you again, I’ll kill him myself.
    Â 
    O NCE THE WORST of the water was off the floor, Ashley continued to mop and dry the aged wood while Joe got to work under the sink. He welcomed the task since it gave him the opportunity to distance himself from his memories of Josie.
    He knew he should speak up then and there, tell Ashley the truth before she found out some other way, but something held him back. Maybe it was the expression on the old man’s face that warned him to remain quiet until they could finish their conversation. Maybe it was the fear of losing the only job someone had been willing to give him.
    Or maybe it was Max himself.
    Joe shifted beneath the sink, the damp towels beneath his back bunching at his neck as Max’s and Josie’s faces blended.
    Josie had been younger than Max when she died. Only two months, and so tiny since she’d been born premature, but in Max’s face he saw his little girl. Big, soulful eyes surrounded by a sweetness and innocence that drew him in and reminded him of all the good in the world.
    â€œDo you, um, need anything?”
    The wrench slipped from his fingers and landed in the center of his chest with a painful thud.
    â€œSorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    Joe angled his head until he could see Ashley’s anxious face outside the cabinet. “No problem. It’s hard to keep a good grip when it’s wet.”
    He thought he heard her mutter “Don’t I know it” under her breath. She hesitated, then squatted down next to his hips as he lay with his head and upper body under the sink. His blood heated, began to pool where it had no business, but her nearness and the image of her in the wet T-shirt flashed through his mind and obliterated all attempt at control. Where was her husband?
    She must be the one in charge of restoring the house, but he wouldn’t be having such a difficult time if he could see them together.
    â€œYou look like you know what you’re doing.”
    â€œNo.” He caught himself, and smiled wryly. “I mean, yes, I do—and no, thanks, I don’t need anything.”
    Her tongue swept out over her full lower lip and drew his gaze there. Wet, moist, she had lips made to be kissed. Sort of like that actress Angel or Angeline. What was her name?
    â€œIt’s past lunch time. Nearly two-thirty. You want to take a break and eat a sandwich?”
    His stomach rumbled at the suggestion, but that reaction was nothing compared to what he felt when she smiled at his loud response.
    Get a grip,