To Love And Protect. Muriel JensenЧитать онлайн книгу.
separated. She had only vague memories of her life until that day, impressions of a woman’s slurred voice, of eating peanut butter on bread in their bedrooms because there was shouting in the living room. She remembered Jack—dark hair, dark eyes, always there.
Then Roscoe Brauer, her mother’s boyfriend, had been shot, and she and Jack and Cassie had spent a couple of nights with Ben’s family, the Palmers. When their mother went to jail Cassie had been sent to her father, who lived in Maine, and Corie went to Texas where her father lived.
She remembered the big change her new life had been, her stepmother and two stepsisters, who’d made it clear from the beginning that she wasn’t welcome. Missing Jack and two-year-old Cassidy had hurt with a physical pain.
Her father, Miguel Ochoa, had explained that her mother, Charlene Manning, had been a singer in small clubs. She’d gotten caught up with friends who partied with drugs. Jack’s father, a drug dealer, died in the crash of a light plane when Jack was three. Miguel had also pushed drugs, but left her mother when even he thought she wasn’t sober long enough to be in a relationship. Cassidy’s father, a counselor, had tried to help her get her life on track, but that hadn’t lasted long either. She had died in jail.
Talk about baggage.
“Who’s that?” Polly Benedict asked, peering through the blinds that covered the café’s window. She was twenty-two, had a boyfriend who was always off with the rodeo and lamented Corie’s lack of a romantic relationship. “He’s gorgeous!”
Corie walked past her on her way to the kitchen. She glanced up at the clock and saw that she was two minutes early.
Polly, several inches taller than Corie, fresh-faced and curvaceous, and unfailingly cheerful, stopped her progress and pinched her cheek.
“Look at you! You’re smiling. My goodness, how long has it been since I’ve seen your teeth? Is he responsible for that smile?”
She didn’t feel like smiling, but customers hated a moody waitress.
“He’s my brother’s brother. That’s all. He’s...visiting for a few days.”
Polly frowned over the “brother’s brother” explanation. “You’ve explained that to me before, but it’s so weird. How many people have a brother whose brother isn’t their brother?”
Corie hooked her arm in Polly’s and led her toward the kitchen. “I know, but putting it that way only makes it worse. So, what’s going on tonight? What’s the special?”
The bell rang. “Order up, Pol,” Hector called as they walked into the kitchen. With a parting grin for Corie, Polly detoured to the window to pick up her order.
“Corazon!” Wiping his hands on a kitchen rag, Hector glanced up at the clock. “I thought you were going to be late. You’re always ten minutes early. Did I hear you talking about your brother’s brother who isn’t your brother? I thought they lived in Washington.”
“Oregon,” she corrected. “I promised him dinner if he comes before closing.”
Hector was not very tall but his apron covered a generous middle. He was laid-back and kind, unless someone criticized his food or mistreated an employee. He’d given Corie a job based on nothing more than Teresa’s recommendation, and Corie would be forever grateful. His restaurant was a favorite hangout for families and young people on a date. People came from around the county.
Hector whisked an egg and cream mixture. “Good. What’s he doing here? I mean, since he’s not your brother. And you said he didn’t like you.”
Corie was tired of things she couldn’t explain. “He came to talk.” She looked in all the pots to see what was on the menu tonight.
“His phone doesn’t work?” Hector was smart and her reply had been lame.
“He’s a cop, Hector. I used to be a thief. He thinks that Jack and I reconnecting means trouble for Jack.”
Hector frowned. “You want me to set him straight?”
She shook her head, smiling. “I’m going to do that.”
“By buying him dinner? Or was the plan that I give him dinner?”
She grinned as she passed him. “I’m buying him dinner.”
“Didn’t I see you go by earlier with a big tree in the back of your truck? That must have set you back. Christmas trees are a fortune this year.”
“It’s for Teresa and the kids.”
“I know. You’re so good to her, but someday you have to fly the nest a second time and concentrate on you.”
The bell rang over the front door, announcing customers. She began to fill water glasses.
“I’m doing just fine.”
* * *
IT WAS AN average Saturday night. They did enough business to run out of the special, but not enough that Corie and Polly couldn’t keep up. Families came and left while one couple had spent the past two hours gazing into each other’s eyes while their enchiladas de queso grew cold.
Sukie Cunningham sat with her Kindle at a table at the back of the room. She was blonde and blue-eyed, a plump thirtysomething who had a taste for clothing from the junior department. She was administrative assistant to the deputy mayor, Robert Pimental. It was clear she’d been hired by Pimental for her curvaceous proportions and her too tight, too short clothing rather than her competence. Still, her pleasant personality and her look of wide-eyed innocence made her impossible to dislike.
Polly picked up a coffeepot, ready to do the refill rounds. “Do you think she has any idea Pimental is never going to leave his wife and marry her?” she asked Corie under her voice.
“I’m sure she doesn’t.” It was rumored that Sukie did more for her employer than mis-schedule his appointments and lose his messages.
“What is it about that man that appeals to her?”
“Power, I suppose. She thinks he can change her life. Her parents were poor and she waited tables here for a while before you came. But she forgot to put up orders, got them confused and dropped a tray of pies. She was always apologetic, but Hector was losing money. He finally had to fire her. Then Pimental hired her and eventually set her up in a little rental house on the other side of town.”
“She’s very loyal to him.”
Corie nodded but thought about the change she’d seen in Sukie recently—a loss of innocence in her eyes, a smile that didn’t come as easily as it used to. “She has been. I’m not sure what’s going on with them now. Maybe she’s catching a glimpse of the real him.”
Polly nodded. “Yeah. Crooked, mean, scary.”
“Yeah.”
Polly headed toward Sukie with the coffee.
* * *
BEN ARRIVED JUST before nine. He wore dark slacks and a dark cotton shirt. Corie had to stare for a minute. He’d combed his hair and actually dressed for dinner. In Querida. Good breeding was an impressive thing.
She led him to a table at the back. “Hector makes mean fajitas, wonderful camarónes—that’s shrimp if you’re not familiar with the word. All kinds of quesadillas, beef—”
He stopped her. “Camarones sounds wonderful.”
“Sautéed with lemon butter, done in salsa chipotle or á la diablo?”
“Diablo? Devil?”
“Yes. Pretty hot. Or we can go easy on the red chili.”
“I can take it,” he said. “Diablo. As it comes.”
“Something to drink? We have beer and wine.”
“Coffee’s