In Broad Daylight (24 page)

her go, wrapping her arms and legs around her like a gibbon monkey.

Brenda remained kneeling as she kissed the top of Annie's head over and over again,

murmuring soothing words. She felt Dax's hand on her shoulder as she rocked with the

little girl.

There were no words to express the depth of Simon Tyler's gratitude. To everyone's

surprise, he dissolved into tears beside his wife as Dax and Brenda brought his daughter

to him at the mansion.

And when he'd managed to pull himself together, in an unprecedented show of generosity,

he wrote a huge donation to the police department on the spot.

He gave the check to Dax. "So that you can buy the department state of the art

computers and programs like the one she used to help find Annie." He nodded at Brenda.

"I'll pass it along," Dax promised. He felt tired and wired at the same time. The case was over. Nathan had taken the two suspects down to the precinct in order to book them.

Matthew Harwood was already down there, cooling his heels in a cell.

He turned toward Brenda and gestured at theTylers. "Why don't we leave them alone for

now?"

Brenda merely nodded.

"Looks like it's all over but the shouting," he said as they left the mansion. And then he looked at her, admiration in his eyes. "Speaking of shouting, you were some wildcat back at

the motel. I thought I told you to stay back once the door was open." He couldn't even

muster a pretense at annoyance. In her place, he would have done the same thing.

"Sorry, slipped my mind." She felt tired, drained and relieved. But there was a glow that was missing. This was going to be the last time that they saw each other. The realization

weighed heavily on her. "Can I get a ride from you? My car's still in the school parking lot."

And then she laughed softly to herself, although the sound had little humor in it.

Taking her arm, he brought her back to his car. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just that this'll probably be the last time my car'll be there." A sadness drifted through her. She'd been at the academy for three years and had grown to love it.

"The school will be closing down without Matthew to run it. That means I'm out of a job."

Was that the only reason for that sadness he detected? "I wouldn't worry."

She looked at him, trying to gauge his tone. "Why?"

"I've got a feeling that once that computer equipment Tyler's funding arrives at the

precinct, the department's going to need someone good to help teach the rest of us bozos

what to do with it. Most likely, they'll want to keep you on, too, to help with the hard

stuff, so I don't think you need to hit the bricks just yet, looking for a job."

His words, he noted, seemed to comfort her a little. She was unconsciously running her

hand along her stomach. Something he'd seen countless other expectant mothers do, he

couldn't help thinking.

Dax held the door open for her and then closed it after she got in. Moving around to the

other side, he slipped in behind the wheel.

Now or never, he thought.

Leaving his keys in the ignition, he turned toward her. "Now that that's out of the way,

you and I have some unfinished business."

"We do?"

"We do. Back at the coffee shop, you asked me a question."

She remembered. She'd thought he'd answered it with his silence. "I did?"

"All this excitement make you forget?" He sincerely doubted it. The lady was too bright for that. Was she not-so-subtly telling him to drop it? He was in too deep; he couldn't. His

natural sense of self-preservation took a back seat to something that was now consuming

him. His need for her. "You asked me if I wanted our relationship to go somewhere." He

paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he forced himself to get the

words out. "I do."

She could feel her pulse accelerating. "And where is it you want it to go?"

He took another cautious step along the tightrope. Below him was a sheer drop, but he had

no choice. He had to do this. Had to let her know what he felt. In hopes that she felt it,

too.

"Does the 'sky's the limit' mean anything to you?"

Don't hope, don't hope, you know how disappointed you get when things don't work out the

way you want them to. You already know that life isn't a fairy tale.She took a deep breath

before answering. "It's a term people use when betting."

"And I'm betting everything, putting it all on the line."

She shook her head. "I lost you."

He took her hand in his. Her fingers felt cold. Was she nervous? He began to feel better.

Because he was nervous as hell.

"That's just it, you didn't. Look, I'm not sure how to say this, so I'm just going to say it straight out."

Fairy tale, her mind mocked her. She clung to the edges of it anyway. "'This?'"

Like a swimmer about to dive into ice cold water, he braced himself. Then jumped. "I love

you and I want to marry you."

The words had rushed at her like a speeding train. She stared at him, not sure she'd

heard what she'd heard. The mind played tricks, sometimes. "Why do I get the feeling you

just read me my rights?"

"The only rights I'm concerned with right now is your right to say no." Dax searched her eyes. "I'm hoping you won't exercise it."

Brenda smiled at him and he could feel the rays begin to enter his soul. "Why would I say

no when everything inside of me is shouting yes? In case you hadn't noticed, I love you, you

big stupid jerk."

"I love it when you talk sexy like that."

Her smile continued to fill him until it spread all the way through his being, just the way it

had the first time he had made love to her. He had a feeling it was there to stay.

Which, he thought as he brought his mouth down to hers, was just fine with him.

«^

Faye Walker had been a nurse for close to thirty years. She'd worked maternity for

twenty of those years, most of them right here at Aurora General. She had seen a crowd

scene the likes of which was presently engulfing the waiting room only once before. And it

had involved the same family.

That birth had taken place less than three months ago, when Maggi Cavanaugh had

presented a darkly handsome, widely beaming Detective Patrick Cavanaugh with a healthy

baby girl.

It looked like history had just repeated itself, same scenario, different players.

She surveyed the area. There wasn't a place left to sit and almost no place to stand.

Obviously anyone named Cavanaugh didn't remotely believe in the virtues of practicing

abstinence.

Faye Walker cleared her throat. Instantly, like a wave in the ocean, the people within the

room moved toward her. A formidable woman standing almost six feet with girth to match,

she held up her hand as if to physically dismiss the questions that were about to come her

way.

"Two," the woman announced, holding up the same amount of fingers and slowly passing her hand before the crowd of siblings, father, uncle, aunt, cousins and assorted mates. "I'll take two visitors in at a time. And just two," she warned.

Troybegan to move forward when Tared pulled him back. "Dad and Janelle," he told his younger brother, making the choice for everyone.

Troy, always the impatient one, inclined his head and sank back into the multitude. "But I get to go next," he announced grudgingly.

Following the nurse, Janelle and her father slipped quietly into the birthing room where, only

minutes before, Brenda had been going through the soul wrenching agony of bringing a new life into the world.

"You look great, kiddo," Brian said to her.

Wanly, she smiled her thanks. "Never felt better," she murmured.

Dax was standing beside his wife, looking far more relieved than she did. Brian knew how that felt.

Childbirth was still a miracle, but things went wrong with miracles sometimes. He had held his

breath each time his own wife had gone through this. Being here, waiting for his first grandchild to be born had brought it all back to him.

"What's her name?" Janelle asked softly as she looked at the precious being wrapped in a pink-and-white receiving blanket and nestled in the crook of Brenda's arm.

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth York Cavanaugh," Dax said. "We named her after Mom."

"She's beautiful," Janelle whispered. There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at her brother.

"Why shouldn't she be?" Brian asked, laying his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "She's a Cavanaugh, isn't she?"

Dax exchanged looks with his father, gratitude in his eyes. It didn't matter that the child his wife was holding hadn't had his blood at the very start; she had his heart now.

Miss Elizabeth York Cavanaugh was family and, ultimately, that was all that mattered.

* * * * *