When Love Matters Most
“Let’s sit for a while,” he suggested, moving toward a large rock near the edge of the ocean. He leaned back and pulled her against him, both of them facing the water. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her shoulder. For a few minutes, they watched the waves pound the shore and listened to the mournful cries of seagulls as they circled overhead.
Madison felt the warmth of his breath against her face when he exhaled.
“My father was a ranking officer in the Tijuana Cartel,” Rick continued. “He was frequently involved in the turf wars that existed with the competing Arellano Félix Cartel, and the larger and growing Sinaloa Cartel. My mother was an addict. It would have been impossible for her not to be, with my father’s position and constant access to any narcotic you could imagine. Violence and the threat of being killed were realities of our daily existence when I was a kid.
“From an early age, I recognized the destructive and dangerous effects of drugs.” He rested his cheek against hers again. “When I was twelve, our home was attacked by the Sinaloa Cartel, the biggest competitor to the one my father was involved with. My parents were both killed...executed.”
“Oh, my God,” Madison breathed, and turned to Rick. His face was hard and unsmiling. His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them. He said it so matter-of-factly, but it must have been dreadful. “I’m so sorry.”
The wind blew Madison’s hair into her eyes and she swiped at it impatiently. “Where were you at the time? In school?” She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like for him to come home and find his parents murdered.
He shook his head. “No. I was home.”
She had no words. She stared at him in horror.
His eyes were unfocused. “I was aware, even at that age, that if the Sinaloa enforcers found me, they wouldn’t think twice about killing me.”
“Then, how...?”
He shrugged. “I hid in my closet. In the corner. Bracing my back against one wall and my feet against the other. I climbed as high as I could so they wouldn’t find me if they looked in. They could check the floor of the closet and not see my feet. I was shielded by the hanging clothes. When the enforcers searched my room—checked inside my closet—they didn’t see me. Even so, they set our house on fire. I was so terrified of leaving my hiding place—not knowing if they were waiting outside—I nearly succumbed to smoke inhalation.”
Madison framed his face with her hands. “That’s atrocious. What happened to you? Did you go to the police?”
His laugh was short and harsh. “No. The police wouldn’t have helped me.”
“Did you have other family?”
“I did, but they were all involved in the drug trade. I wanted out. I left Mexico that night. It wasn’t the first time my life had been on the line because of my father’s occupation—because of the drugs—but I swore it would be the last. I crossed the border into California. Right where I now patrol. A San Diego cop saw me. I was sure of it, but he must have realized I was just a frightened kid. I had nothing with me. No backpack, nothing that would’ve suggested I was running drugs. He could have caught me, detained me, turned me back, but he didn’t do any of those things. He just let me go. I don’t think it was because he was lazy. I think he must’ve understood that I was running for my life.
“That was when I determined to become a cop and dedicate my life to fighting drug trafficking.”
“And that’s why you volunteer with the school to counsel kids against drugs?”
He nodded. His eyes were bright and intense.
She placed a tender kiss on his lips. “I’m so sorry for what you went through when you were a boy.” She brushed her lips across his again, and he wound his arms around her and held tight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IN THE MONTHS since Madison had moved to San Diego, most of her time had been focused on her work at the veterinary clinic and at the animal rehabilitation center. During the initial months, her social interactions had been limited to the people she worked with—mostly Heather and Jane. Now she had Rick. Thinking of Rick always brought a smile to her face.
Although it was still in the early stages, Madison had also come to value her friendship with Jessica Palmer, wife of San Diego Police Department K-9 officer Cal Palmer. She’d come to like Jessica’s husband, too. She and Jessica shared another undeniably strong bond in addition to their training—having a relationship with a police officer.
Madison had learned that Jessica and Cal were only recently married. They were obviously happy. She’d met their two little girls, Cal’s daughter, Haley, from a previous marriage, and their adopted daughter, Kayla. She’d been enchanted by them.
Madison didn’t normally romanticize—she was too practical and scientific for that—but she couldn’t help being touched by how Jessica and Cal had met just after the powerful earthquake that had struck San Diego almost a year earlier. She was happy for all of them that Jessica and Cal had been able to give Kayla a family after the child had tragically lost her mother in the earthquake, leaving her an orphan.
In the months since their initial meeting, she and Jessica tried to get together at least every couple of weeks. A Saturday when Madison wasn’t working, but both Rick and Cal were, was a perfect opportunity. Jess and Cal’s girls were at a birthday party, and after a taxing week Madison welcomed a quiet afternoon at Jessica’s home with tea and girl talk.
“How’s everything between you and Rick?” Jessica asked as she placed the tray laden with tea and shortbread cookies on the coffee table.
Madison accepted the cup from her and smiled. “Good. Really good.”
Jessica stirred milk and sugar into her own tea. “I’m so glad! I like seeing the two of you together. I’ve known Rick for nearly as long as I have Cal, and I’ve never seen him in a serious relationship. I think relationships matter to him, so he’s cautious about them. On an entirely selfish note, since Cal and Rick are close, I’m really glad he picked you, someone I truly like and enjoy being with.”
“Thanks. The feeling is mutual.”
“Rick is a wonderful man and the two of you are terrific together. He’s crazy about you.”
Madison’s smile wavered, and she held a hand over her stomach. “Oh, Jess, you think so?”
Jessica angled her head and gave Madison a quizzical look. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it. Why? Don’t you see it?”
“I guess I do, and I feel... Oh, Jess. This is a new experience for me, and I haven’t said it to Rick, not in so many words, but I’m falling in love with him.”
Jessica’s cup rattled as she placed it hurriedly on the table. She rose from the sofa to enfold Madison in her arms. “I’m so thrilled! For both of you. Rick has had some difficult situations to deal with in his life. He deserves to be happy, and I know you make him happy.”
Jessica’s reference to what Rick had endured reminded Madison of what she’d learned about his early years in Tijuana. Her heart broke a little as it always did when she thought about it. “Rick does deserve to be happy,” Madison said in a subdued voice. “He...he told me how his parents died.”
Sorrow glistened in Jessica’s eyes. “Rick had great courage as a kid. I have to give him that, and a lot more.”
Madison was relieved that Jessica seemed to be aware of the circumstances, and she wouldn’t be breaching a confidence. She stood and moved to the living room window, not out of a desire to look outside, but because she couldn’t sit still. “I
t’s astonishing that he turned out so well. It would’ve been so easy for him to get sucked into that life.”
“Rick’s made of strong stuff. He’s one of the most principled people I know. But you’re right. You heard he ran away and crossed the San Ysidro border into California on his own when he was just a young teen, right?”
“Yes,” Madison whispered, still facing the window, rubbing at a spot on the sill.
“Did he tell you what happened when he first got to San Diego?”
Madison turned around and rested her hands on the sill on either side of her. “No.”
“He was so afraid of getting caught by the cartel or by the US authorities and being sent back to Mexico, he lived on the streets for the better part of a year. He equated everything bad in his life with drugs. What I know from Cal is that Rick’s drug-dealer father and addict mother were self-absorbed and emotionally unavailable. He had no siblings, and I imagine he had no real family life. Well, at least not one that had any love in it.
“He knew the authorities here took a much stronger stance against illegal drugs, but he must’ve been terrified. Anyway, after spending time on the streets of San Diego, he realized that he needed to get into school if he was going to fulfill his dream of becoming a cop. He found his way to the county’s Child Services department. I’ve heard something about him having received encouragement, maybe even help, from a police officer, but those details are sketchy. Anyway, he was granted refugee status and placed in a foster home.”
Still restless, Madison walked back to the sofa and sat down. She hadn’t known about his time living on the streets. Her heart broke even more for the young boy Rick had been. “Was he placed with the Stewarts right away?”
Jessica smiled. “Yes. He got very lucky. I don’t think it could have been better for him. The Stewarts, the first family he was fostered with, decided to adopt him. They’re wonderful people. Kindhearted, with two kids of their own—adults now, older than Rick.”
“Yes, I’ve met them.”
“Well, then you know it was probably Rick’s saving grace that they adopted him. For the first time, he had positive role models and he was loved. From what Cal says, he exceled at school, got his citizenship and graduated from the police academy. He did what he pledged to do as a kid escaping Mexico. He became a police officer with the San Diego Police Department.”
They both turned when they heard the front door open and the scrabbling of claws on the tile floor. Scout ran into the living room. First he rushed to Jessica, then to Madison.
“How are the two most beautiful ladies in San Diego?” Cal asked, and bent down to give Jessica a kiss.
“Just San Diego?” Jessica feigned a pout.
Cal pulled her to her feet, turned her one way, then the other, pretending to scrutinize her. “Okay. All of California.”
She grinned and kissed him back. “That’s much better!”
“What are you two up to?” he asked.
“Gossiping about Rick,” Jessica responded, and Madison felt the heat on her cheeks.
“Hmm, not how I’d want to spend my day off,” he joked. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned a couple minutes later balancing a beer bottle and two glasses of white wine. Jessica took the glasses, handing one to Madison. Cal sat next to Jessica and draped an arm across his wife’s shoulders. “As far as the gossip goes, anything I can add?” he asked with a grin.
Madison’s flush felt more pronounced.
“The only reason I’m offering,” he went on, “is that I think the world of Rick, and I happen to believe you’re good for him, just like Jessica does. If I can help bring the two of you closer together, I’m all for it.” He raised his bottle and clinked it to each of their glasses. “So what do you want to know?”
Madison waved a hand. “I...I’m not sure. This seems...wrong.”
“Don’t worry about it. Rick is one of my best friends. I wouldn’t say anything he wouldn’t want me to. Besides, as I just said, I’m doing the girlie-gossip thing—ouch!” he exclaimed, and shot Jessica a wounded look while rubbing his shin. “Okay, scratch that last comment. Anyway, I’d like the two of you together, so if I can help...” he repeated.
Madison looked at Jessica with uncertainty.
“Okay,” Jessica jumped in. “I was telling her about Rick’s background and the Stewarts. Why don’t you tell her about his career?”
“That’s easy.” He took a sip of his beer. “What’s for dinner, by the way?” He winced when she gave him a gentle elbow in the side. “So Rick’s career. He graduated top of his class at the police academy. He made plain-clothes detective with the Narcotics Task Force at SDPD. Working in Narcotics, he frequently collaborated with the cops from the K-9 Unit. The propaganda is—” he held a hand up to protect himself before Jessica could elbow him again “—that Rick’s focus and determination enabled him to rise up the ranks of the department in record time. He became the youngest sergeant in the history of the SDPD when he was promoted in the K-9 Unit at the age of twenty-seven. He’s now, what, twenty-nine or thereabouts?” He turned to Jessica for confirmation, and she nodded. “So at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, it’s rumored that he’s in line for the next lieutenancy. That’s all there is to tell. Anything else you want to know?”
Madison raised her hand again. “Oh, no. I think that’s plenty. This is just wrong. I’m feeling guilty enough as it is.”
“Don’t be,” Jessica interjected. “Here’s the main thing. Rick’s a good guy. He’s got a heart of gold, but—as you can appreciate from what you know—he has some scars, too.”
Madison felt her eyes sting as she thought of the child he’d been in Mexico. “Can’t blame him.”
“He hasn’t had a serious relationship since we’ve known him,” Jessica said.
“That’s enough information,” Madison declared. Since it was almost Owen’s feeding and walking time, she said goodbye. On her way home, she thought about everything she’d learned about Rick.
Madison’s upbringing had been so different from his, she mused. Yes, she’d lost her mother at a very young age. Madison could barely remember her, but her father was a force to be reckoned with. He’d never remarried after her mother had passed away. She was raised in wealth and privilege by her loving, doting, protective father. She’d never lacked for anything, love most of all. She’d always felt entirely secure and safe in her father’s love.
She couldn’t begin to imagine what Rick’s childhood had been like in comparison. As she let herself into the house, she felt an overwhelming urge to make up for some of the pain he’d experienced—and what better time to start than that evening?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MADISON WAS SURPRISED not to see Rick’s police-issue Ford Explorer in his driveway when she arrived at his house. She checked her watch. No, she wasn’t early. Not by much anyway.
Maybe he’d gotten a ride home with someone.
She knocked on Rick’s front door, but there was no answer. She shifted the bag containing wine and dessert to her other arm and peered in through the lightly frosted sidelight. She immediately felt embarrassed at the thought of peeking into Rick’s house, but it was short-lived. She knocked again.
When there was still no answer, she looked in through the sidelight a second time. She could see Sniff, but above his head...
She drew back quickly at the sight of another pair of bright eyes staring at her. It took her a moment, but she laughed when she realized it was a pair of dog eyes. Tak
ing a cautious look, she saw the other dog. He was larger than Sniff, with a near-black coat and luminous golden eyes.
Sniff must have recognized her. He was doing a little happy dance and wagging his tail energetically. The other dog didn’t seem quite that welcoming, but at least he wasn’t barking.
Clearly, Rick wasn’t home yet.
Madison placed the bag on a chair on the porch, and went back to the side light. She cupped her hands around her eyes to block out the glare and peered in again.
The other dog must have retreated somewhere, but Sniff was still watching her, his nose pressed against the glass. She gazed beyond him.
What she saw startled her. She’d been to Rick’s home before, but hadn’t seen anything like this.
The interior of the house was in disarray. There was a towel on the hallway floor. Pairs of shoes were lying haphazardly about. What looked like a pot had been dragged into a doorway. In the living room, she saw sofa cushions on the coffee table and the floor.
She felt like a voyeur. Admittedly, she was neat to the point of being obsessive, but this was ridiculous. And Rick was expecting her! What would the place look like if she’d just stopped by unannounced?
“Hey, there!” Her hand flew to her throat and she jumped at the sound of Rick’s voice behind her.
“You’re late,” she said, trying to cover up her guilt at being caught peeping into his house.
He touched his lips to hers. “No, I’m not. You’re early.” He held his watch out to her. “See? I have two minutes to spare. Joking aside, I hope you weren’t waiting long. I’d planned to be home before now—got detained at work.” He unlocked the door, grabbed the bag she’d left on the chair and motioned her in. “Don’t tell the cops, but I was speeding most of the way to make it on time.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she said.