Page 19 of Protected By West
She sighed. “Around my house when I was a kid, it was Police officers. And Police force. Cops was a word that outsiders used to trivialize the profession.”
West heard the echo of someone else’s voice in her words. They were almost familiar somehow, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“I’m a third generation Texas Ranger,” he told her, “that’s the title we cared about. Trooper. Deputy. Sheriff. Those are the words that matter. Cops. Pigs. We’ve heard them. Had people spit on us. I’m proud to wear the badge and serve the people of Texas.”
“I don’t doubt that you’re a good officer. I bet you’re great. You couldn’t let yourself be anything less. But that,” she paused as Janine came back and put down their plates and drinks in front of them on the table, “thanks.”
“If you two need anything, just holler and I’ll be back.”
“Thanks, Janine.” Weston saw her give him a wink as she moved away.
He looked back at Tracy and watched her adjust the layers of her BLT, covering more of the inside with bacon in a new configuration.
She looked up at him and smiled. “I like to get as much flavor as I can.”
“Makes sense.” He smiled. “I bet you think a lot about what you do before you do it.”
Her smile faltered a little. “Doesn’t everyone?”
He sat back and picked up a french fry, tapping it on the edge of the plate. “People do, but I have the feeling that you, more than most, think through things a lot.”
She shifted and bit into the inside of her cheek.
Fuck.
“I’m not criticizing you. Just an observation.”
He took a bite of a fry as she thought through his words.
He watched her, worried that he’d said too much.
Cut too close to the heart of the issue.
“I’ve never really thought about it that way.” She smiled a little. “Is this an interrogation skill?”
She’d said it lightly, but he wasn’t sure how close he’d come. Was she just saying that to deflect or-
“I’m not sure how much of what you just said is guesswork and how much of that is really insight. Still, you came a little too close to the truth. A truth,” she wrapped a hand around her glass of iced tea, “that you want to know. It’s the answer to your question.”
She took a sip of her iced tea and lowered it back to the table, cradling it in both hands.
“My dad was a law enforcement officer.”
Weston tensed up.‘God, please don’t tell me he died in the line of duty.’
“He was the definition of the phrase ‘married to the job.’ There were days when he didn’t come home to the point where when he did come home it was a complete surprise.
“It would throw our schedule at home completely out of whack.
“By the time my mom decided to divorce him, people at school already thought he was dead or deployed or… I don’t know. He wasn’t my father or her husband as much as he was a servant of the State of Texas.
“I’ve seen my mother cry for hours at a time. I’ve seen her sit stock still and stare at the door waiting for him to come home and know that’s not going to happen.”
What could he say to that?
What could anyone say to that?
“Trace-”
