LITMIR.BIZ

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been arrested a couple of times for bar fights.”

      “Actually, he was just busting up some furniture. He wasn’t drunk and he didn’t hit anyone. But, yeah, there are a number of places he can’t go in now because of his bad behavior.”

      “Anyone talked to him about joining one of Kate Marten-McCabe’s grief groups over at the hospital?”

      Liz’s frustration spiraled. “Everyone has.”

      “He’s not buying it?”

      “He doesn’t think he has a problem.”

      Travis stopped at her SUV, all protective male. “I’m going with you.”

      The firmness of his voice was a surprise.

      Travis was quiet a moment, just looking at her with those keen eyes that seemed to see more than she liked. “He’s a big guy. If he’s upset, he could be dangerous.”

      Liz attempted to curtail her irritation. Since when did she need protecting—from anyone? Well used to looking after her own interests, she said, “The sheriff’s department is on the way.”

      Travis flashed an easygoing smile and climbed in the passenger side. “Consider it part of my new duties, protecting all the women on the Cartwright ranch.”

      Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt a little more than that. “I hate to tell you this, cowboy.” She got in after him and slid her key in the ignition. “But we’re not on the Four Winds.”

      He shrugged and turned to pull the safety restraint out of its sheath. “You know what I mean.”

      She did. And she didn’t have time to argue. “Fine.” Liz put on her shoulder belt, too, then sent him a warning glare. “Just don’t put on your lawyer hat. This is my situation to handle.”

      By the time they got to the Haskell home on Spring Street, the streetlamps were on and the sheriff’s car was already there. Deputies Rio Vasquez and Kyle McCabe were in the front yard, which, given the many stakes and flags, looked as if it had recently been surveyed.

      Bypassing the crowd of neighbors who had gathered, Liz marched into the center of the circle of men. Not exactly the best way to spend a tranquil spring evening. “What’s going on?”

      Tim Patrone pointed to Haskell. “J.T. has gone too far, that’s what is going on.”

      The recently retired man glowered, his face red beneath his shock of white hair. “I want to take down a few trees and build a lagoon-style pool with a waterfall. What’s wrong with that?”

      “In the front yard!” Tim retorted.

      Liz took in J.T.’s tropical shirt, flip-flops and walking shorts. “I know you have a reason for doing what you’re doing.”

      He rubbed the stubble of a three-day-old beard. “Don’t I always?”

      “Suppose you tell everyone here what it is.” Before real trouble erupts.

      “Cyndi, God bless her soul, always wanted to go to Hawaii. And I never did take her. I figure this is the least I can do. Besides, I offered to let all the neighborhood kids swim in it, once it’s built, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”

      “And that’s another big problem. Safety!” Tim fumed.

      Deputy Vasquez intervened. “Local ordinance requires a six-foot barrier around any private swimming pool.”

      “Then I’ll put one up,” J.T. said with a shrug.

      The neighbors appeared outraged at the idea. Liz understood why. A six-foot privacy fence in the front yard would ruin the look of all the homes on the street, as well as obstruct the view.

      Liz moved forward and put a hand on J.T.’s arm. “There are zoning considerations, too. You’re going to need a permit to proceed. And I doubt the town of Laramie will grant you one for a swimming pool in the front yard, no matter how beautiful or lavish it is.”

      “Well, there’s not room in the backyard,” J.T. declared. “Not for what I want to do.”

      “Then buy a place in the country and move it all out there!” Tim advised.

      J.T. flushed all the more. “I am not giving up the home I shared with my late wife. All our memories are here.”

      No one could argue with that. Cyndi and J.T. had been inseparable until the day she died.

      Before her client could say anything else, Liz intervened again. Her voice soothing, she looked at him and murmured, “J.T., you and I need to talk about this. Let’s go inside.”

      “Nope,” he said. He put his hands in front of him and glared at the two deputies. “I don’t want your visit to be wasted. You want to arrest me for disturbing the peace? Arrest me!”

      Rio and Kyle exchanged beleaguered looks.

      “Or do I have to hit something first?” J.T. taunted, picking up one of the staked flags, clearly ready to make good on his claim.

      “That’s it.” Rio got out his handcuffs before J.T. could snap the stake in half. “You’re going to a holding cell to cool off.”

      “Whatever.” He let them take the stake from him. “I’m still building the pool!” He glared at his neighbors defiantly, still spoiling for a fight. “And no one is going to stop me!”

      A pitying silence fell.

      J.T. looked at Liz as he was led away, hands cuffed behind him. “You want to do something?” he shouted over his brawny shoulder. “Get me a permit so I can build this pool!”

      “He’s losing it,” Travis said as they got back in Liz’s car and followed the squad car to the sheriff’s station.

      “He’s grieving. He loved his wife so much. To see Cyndi lose her battle with lung disease was more than he could bear. He has to have some outlet for his anger.”

      “Meaning what?” Travis scoffed. “You think he should be able to follow through on his crazy plan and, while he’s at it, lower the property values of every house on the street?”

      “It’s not about building a pool. It’s about paying tribute to his wife, lamenting his loss and getting over his guilt for all the things he didn’t give Cyndi. He wants her back, Travis.” He wants the love he lost. “He wants to rewrite the past, and he can’t do that, so he’s ticked off. I get it.”

      A long silence fell. “You really feel for the guy.”

      Liz forced herself to concentrate on driving, instead of on the handsome man in the passenger seat beside her. “I’ve always had a thing for the underdog, in any situation. You know that.”

      “I’m not sure I’d call J.T. an underdog,” Travis countered quietly.

      Liz frowned at the red light, her foot on the brake pedal. “He’s at a disadvantage because of his distraught emotional state. He’s picking battles no one in their right mind would ever expect him to win.”

      “Which is why you’re so drawn to him,” Travis concluded as the light changed and the SUV began to move again. “Because you think you can claim victory.”

      Feeling the heat of his gaze like a physical caress, Liz turned at the next street. “Not in the sense of getting him a tropical haven in his front yard. But if I could help him put his life back on track, and keep him out of serious legal trouble in the meantime, I’d be happy.”

      Travis didn’t take his eyes off her. “You really care about him.”

      Liz was suddenly feeling a little too aware of Travis. “I do. And I owe him.” She turned into a parking spot, cut the engine and turned to Travis in all sincerity. “A few years ago, my mom and grandmother were driving a truck full of baby calves to a ranch thirty miles north of the Four Winds when the

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