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“One promise first,” she said. “I know you write articles for a living, and that you were researching me online. You have to promise not to use any part of what I’m about to tell you.”
“I promise. But it never entered my mind to use anything I learned.”
I just wanted to understand the woman I’ve come to care about.Cooper bit back the words that were on the tip of his tongue. She wouldn’t want to hear them. She might even change her mind about telling him her story—a story he very much wanted to hear.
* * *
They sat on the sofa, warmed by the crackling fire and separated by the width of the center cushion. The setting was cozy. But as Cooper studied Jess’s profile, it seemed as if she’d retreated to some cold, remote place inside herself. When she spoke, her expressionless voice came from that same icy distance.
“I joined the FBI out of college. It was all I ever wanted to do. I had to start at the bottom, mostly reviewing paperwork. But I was ambitious. I worked myself up through the ranks to become an agent. When a training program for hostage negotiators was announced, I was the first to sign up. With my psychology degree, it seemed to be a natural fit—and it was.”
“So you were a hostage negotiator.” Cooper spoke into her silence.
“Yes. Not that it was a full-time position. I was attached to a team of other agents, and we did our regular work. But when a situation called for it, and I happened to be in reach, I was brought in.”
“Does that mean you were the one in charge?”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “Not at all. In a typical hostage situation, the person who calls the shots is a high-ranking official—FBI, police, or whoever is handling the crisis. Then there’s a team of armed shooters—SWAT or trained snipers—whose job is to kill the suspect if the situation threatens to get out of hand. And of course there’s a backup team of medics and social workers there to take care of rescued hostages and anyone injured.”
A bitter smile tightened her mouth. “Finally, there’s the negotiator—sometimes more than one. It’s their job to stall for time, to try and defuse the situation just by talking. It’s like walking a tightrope. One slip, and the boss sends in the guns, killing the suspect and maybe some hostages, too.”
“I can imagine how that might burn you out,” Cooper said.
“We were taught to walk away and not blame ourselves when things didn’t go right. But that was easier said than done—especially . . . when there were children.”
Cooper didn’t miss the catch in her voice. Against his better judgment, he couldn’t resist probing deeper. “Is that what happened to you, Jess?” he asked gently. “Is that why you decided to quit the FBI and take a job helping keep kids out of trouble?”
As soon as he spoke, Cooper realized he’d gotten too personal. Until now, he’d sensed that she was warming to him. But she’d gone cold again. Abruptly, she stood.
“I’ve told you enough,” she said. “Now I need to get started packing.”
“Damn it, Jess!” He blocked her way. “What do I need to do, get down on my knees and grovel? I apologized. I listened to your story and promised to keep it private. All I’m asking of you is to stay and let me be your friend.”
He exhaled, forcing himself to be calm and rational. “Stay tonight and think it over, at least. Trevor will be home soon. He won’t know what to make of you throwing things in the car and storming off like an angry sixteen-year-old. He saw enough of that behavior from his mother.”
She gazed up at him, half yielding, half defiant. Her lips parted. Cooper was sorely tempted to kiss her. That might change things between them—but more likely, it would only make things worse.
Whatever she’d been about to say was interrupted by the wail of a siren from the direction of the main road, growing louder as it passed the ranch gate, then fading as it continued on down the lane.
Jess shook her head, her demeanor changing to one of concern. “That would be Buck, on his way to the McCoy place. I told you about them. Ed gets drunk and beats Ruth. After he passes out, she calls the sheriff to arrest him and take him to jail. In a day or two, once she’s patched up, Ruth forgives him and takes him home—until it happens again.”
“Can’t something be done—legally, I mean?” Cooper asked.
“Only if she chooses to do it. According to Buck, the house is hers. She owned it with her first husband.”
“So she could get a lawyer and throw him out.”
“If she’d do it—and she should, for the sake of those poor kids. The situation is awful for them—Skip’s not a bad boy, but he’s so full of frustration because he can’t protect his mother. And those poor little girls . . .” Jess shook her head. “This coming week I’ve got a routine conference appointment with Ruth. If she shows up, maybe I’ll nudge her in that direction. At least I’ll let her know what her options are—and give her the number of a pro bono lawyer in Cottonwood Springs.”
She was looking up at Cooper, so fierce and passionate that she tore at his heart. It was a hell of a time to realize that he was in love with her.
“Stay, Jess,” he said. “Stay through Christmas. Then your apartment will be ready, and you can move without all this drama. Please.”
She was still for a long moment. Cooper held his breath.
Slowly she nodded. “For now. Then we’ll see.”
Chapter 10
