Chapter 10: Man Without Honor

Homecomings rarely lived up to expectations. Raylan knew better than to be too excited about the return to Kentucky. Sure, getting the witness back safe was an achievement, but he had never doubted Darla's safety for a moment. What bothered him was the lost connection with Rachel and not being able to protect her 24/7 in case her ex decided to do something stupid. Despite the safe ride from Arkansas onward, Raylan still had concerns. Big concerns.

At the office, he sat impatiently in the fishbowl of the conference room as Art sent Darla off with a fresh pair of Deputy Marshals to an undisclosed location for safekeeping while ordering Rachel and Tim home for rest. For some reason, Raylan had been ordered to stick around.

Eventually, Art returned. He did the squinty eye thing that made the younger Deputy Marshals squirm even when innocent of wrongdoing. Having committed enough wrongs in his career that evened up the rights, Raylan remained still. Of course, the look unnerved him. He was just too much of an ass to show it.

"Well?" Art said, finally, perching on the edge of the table with his arms folded across his chest.

"Well what?"

"Anything you want to tell me."

Raylan frowned. "Tim killed that guy. Ballistics will prove it."

"I'm not talking about some ballistics bullshit. The three of you look like shit."

"It wasn't your usual witness run, but we got her here safe," Raylan replied.

"There's more to it than that." Art stood and moved to the far side of the room where he poured himself a mug of coffee. "You're being cagey. I don't like being kept out of the loop."

"This ain't a rodeo. There's no loop."

"Raylan."

"Art."

"What the fuck happened out there?"

"The Cassalotti family sent their goons after us. What the hell do you think happened out there?"

Art took a long swallow of coffee. His gaze never strayed from Raylan, who returned the look with a hard glare. Finally, Art said, "You slept with her, didn't you?"

"What?" Raylan scrambled from the chair, pissed and indignant. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You slept with the witness," Art said. "Dammit, Raylan. Tim and Rachel around aren't enough for you to keep it in your pants? Vasquez won't be happy about thi—"

"I didn't sleep with her," Raylan said. He carefully placed his Stetson on his head and strode to the door. "If there's nothing else, I'm in need of a shower and a bed."

"I know there's more."

"Are we done?"

Art took another sip of coffee. "For now."

Raylan stormed from the office and didn't stop until he reached the elevator. As they crossed into Kentucky, Raylan and Tim had given Rachel their word that they wouldn't say anything about Joe. They hadn't promised however not to overstep any personal boundaries she'd no doubt erect now that they were back. Although Raylan hadn't talked it out with Tim, he had a feeling the other man would add Joe Brooks onto his list of assignments. Meanwhile, protecting Rachel Brooks had moved to the top of Raylan's. But he hadn't lied about the shower and the bed. He'd get to one now. The other would have to wait.

R&R

Crossing the state line had put Rachel on edge. She tried to pretend otherwise when Art debriefed her and with Tim and Raylan, but she wasn't sure if she convinced Art. He had a way of playing his cards close to his vest. She hadn't asked Raylan and Tim to keep Joe's actions a secret. Yet, when they volunteered… She hadn't been eager to decline their offer. Being a strong, capable Deputy Marshal meant everything to her. It wouldn't help her career at all if the boss got wind that her ex was a stalker. Black women had to be diligent in this line of work. That's just the way it was.

After the debriefing, she headed straight to her mom's. With Joe unpredictable and unstable, she had to be sure of her mother and her nephew's safety. Because of the early hour, her mom wasn't dressed when Rachel let herself in and Nick was still fast asleep.

Her mother's hurried motions in the kitchen as she prepared coffee and insisted on making breakfast for Rachel hinted at her distress before the words came tumbling out.

"I'm sorry about Joe," she said. "I shouldn't have told him you were away. He didn't sound right, but I didn't catch it at first."

"Mama, I don't blame you," Rachel said. She sat at the kitchen table. Tired from the trip, she found it hard to keep her eyes open. "Joe has a problem. We have to be prepared."

"What do you mean?"

"You and Nick can't stay here—"

"This is my home," her mother cut in. She flipped over pancakes in the skillet with extra vigor. "He's not running me from my home."

"Mama, be serious. He's not the same and it's not like you're running. You're keeping you and Nick safe. That's the important thing."

"What about you?"

Rachel rubbed her forehead. "What about me?"

Her mother turned to look at her. "Are you coming with us? Wherever it is you're sending us off to?"

"I can't. I have a job—"

"It's you he wants!"

"Ssh!" Rachel stood quickly. "You'll wake Nick. I can protect myself, but I can't do that if I'm worried about you."

Her mother seemed unconvinced. Rachel wasn't in the mood for a fight. This should have been easy. This was common sense. She hadn't expected her mother's resistance.

"Mama—"

"I hate for Nick to miss school."

"I don't like it either," Rachel said. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as sudden tears pricked them. Her nephew had known far too much violence in his young years. It pained her to know that she was adding to it.

"Spring Break is in two weeks," her mother said. "Joe has always had bad timing."

Rachel released a short chuckle.

"I can't imagine where we'd go that he wouldn't know to find us," her mother stated.

"But Mama…"

"Here me out. He can be reasonable and he's always liked Nick. Let's just wait out the two weeks. If all's well, then Nick doesn't have to leave school unnecessarily. If not, then we'll do something else…but you're coming with us."

"I can't."

"You can or we're not going anywhere."

R&R

Raylan took the fastest shower of his life, but he decided the nap would have to wait. Dressed in a fresh pair of dark blue jeans and form fitting black shirt, he pulled on a pair of boots, grabbed his Stetson and headed back out. As if man and car had become one, the Lincoln headed straight to the tree-lined neighborhood where Rachel's mother lived. Raylan didn't know how he knew she'd be there. He just did.

Her mother didn't seem surprised when he stood on the threshold. She opened the door wide and ushered him inside with a, "Hello, Marshal."

"Good morning, Mrs. Parker," he said, after removing his hat. "Is Rachel here?"

"She's taking a shower." The older woman gave him a smile that so reminded him of Rachel that he couldn't help but grin. "Would like some coffee or breakfast?" she asked.

"Coffee would be perfect." He followed her into the kitchen.

"Breakfast?" She handed him a full, steaming mug of coffee. "We have pancakes and bacon. I can fix you eggs anyway you like them."

"I bet you could."

She grinned in response.

"But I have to say no. I'm not a breakfast person. Coffee is enough. Thank you, ma'am."

"Such good manners." She seemed to take him from head to toe and back again. "Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble."

"I'm sure. The coffee is perfect, though. The best I've had in a long time."

She giggled in response. "We can wait for Rachel in the living room. She shouldn't be too long now."

He followed her as she left the kitchen. From his time there before, he remembered the many photographs that adorned the wall. One of a younger Rachel had thoroughly captured his attention. He ached to go back to it without being too obvious. A couple of minutes passed before he thought to hell with it and strode to a shelf of framed family memories and openly ogled Rachel's past.

The Deputy Marshal sure was pretty in youth not that she wasn't drop dead gorgeous now. Her eyes revealed everything, but her mouth held promises that he longed to explore. Only the sensation of his neck hairs on end kept him from groaning aloud at that thought. So again, he zoned in on the photo of little Rachel with the wide toothy grin and bows in her hair. Nearby were framed images of Shawnee. Some contained both sisters. The contrast in personalities was startling.

"Those are school pictures," Delores Parker said. "Rachel was always a little serious even as a child, but Shawnee's free spirit often contained the heaviness of demons. None of us could see it then."

"There's a hint of mischief in this one." Raylan held up the photo of Rachel that grabbed his attention.

"Oh, she has some spice," her mother confided.

"Does she?" Raylan set the photo back on the shelf. He considered a quick interrogation but the knowing look on her mother's face made him bite his tongue.

"She won't be happy you're here."

"Why am I here?" he asked.

"Because of Joe—"

"Mama, who are you talking to?" Rachel joined them, clad in a knee-length terry cloth pink bathrobe and a matching towel wrapped turban style around her head. She paused where the hallway opened into the living room to stare at Raylan. "What are you doing here?"

Only her mother's presence kept him honorable. He gave the ripe fullness of her cleavage that the robe failed to conceal just a slight lingering glance. The same went for her shapely legs and trim ankles. When their gazes locked, he recognized fire burning in Rachel's dark brown eyes, but he wasn't sure if it was the same fire that raged inside himself at the sight of her in the scant attire.

"Raylan?" she bit out.

"It's what your mother said," he all but stammered.

"Mama?" She turned on her mother with the fierceness of an alley cat. "What did you say to him?"

"Don't use that tone with me," Delores Parker snapped. The smiles she had for Raylan gone as she faced her daughter. "He's here because of Joe. Go put some clothes on."

"You don't have to rush on my account," he mumbled.

Both women looked at him. He just shrugged. Finally, Rachel said, "Follow me."

He did. They headed down the hall to a bedroom where lacy underwear and street clothes were laid out on the bed. The lingerie intrigued him. He didn't fight the urge to imagine how the white lace would look against her smooth, dark skin. He inhaled a sharp breath and rubbed his hand across his mouth. His breath lodged in his throat when the door closed shut and he knew it was just the two of them in the room.

What the hell is she trying to do to me? he thought.

She moved to block his view of the lingerie. With her back to him, he surmised when she stepped into the panties. The robe slipped from her shoulders a moment before she slid on the bra. Her nimble fingers made quick work of securing the fasteners. He didn't question the vision of her performance. The road trip had played with them in ways that they hadn't had time to process. Later, she'd probably punish them both for this, but for now, he would remain silent and enjoy every second.

Far too soon, she tugged on a pair of dark jeans and a yellow button down shirt. Dressed, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "You shouldn't have come."

"Maybe not."

"Why did Art keep you?"

He wagered on telling her the truth. In his hesitation, she indicated for him to sit. He joined her on the bed.

"He thinks I slept with Darla," he answered.

Rachel laughed. The first lightness appeared in her eyes since his arrival. He responded with a smile. It had never occurred to him to laugh at Art's accusation. Far too many times, it had been a fair assessment of events.

"We should tell him about Joe." She didn't sound convinced. In fact, the sudden seriousness revealed she was far from it.

"He wouldn't use it against you," Raylan said, trying to understand.

"I know." She was digging her fingers into the curve of her knees. "I keep my personal life out of the office."

"Unlike me."

"That wasn't a dig," she said quickly.

"I didn't…" He saw the flicker that had danced across her face. "It was a bad joke. I know it wasn't. I could learn from you."

He placed a hand over hers. "Rachel…"

She shook her head, but she didn't move her hand. "Raylan."

"I'm here to help."

"Is this what that is?" She jutted her chin to where their hands connected.

He heard her breathing change. It now matched the rapid pace of his heartbeat. He rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. Would a kiss be too soon? That was a question he'd never considered. Usually, he just dove in. Questions be damned.

This time was different.

With his other hand, he unwrapped the towel from around her head. Damp curls fell to her shoulders. He allowed his fingers to play in the silky coils. His fingertips skimmed the base of her neck. He pressed his nose against her hair and inhaled citrus and lavender. Her shiver went straight through him.

"Art will take one look at us and he'll know."

Raylan sighed. She was too smart for her own good. It pained him that she was right. It was worse that he didn't care.

A screech of tires pierced outside the window. A door slam followed. Raylan's response was swallowed amid the heaving pounding on the front door. He pressed a quick, open-mouthed kiss to her forehead and strode from the room. Rachel shoved past him to meet her soon to be ex-husband at the door.

Raylan caught up to her and snatched her back. "What the hell are you doing? I'll handle this."

"You're not my man," she said.

"Not yet," he muttered.

With Rachel flustered, Raylan stepped around her and opened the door. Sure enough, Joe stood on the other side.

"Who the fuck are you?"

[A/N: Thanks for reading! Hello new readers! Thanks for following, too. Reviews/comments/kudos, etc. are always appreciated. I enjoy feedback. Suggestions are adored, too. Never fear that my interest is not here for this fic. The only problem is time. Truly, working on this chapter has been a cure for a rough few days. If I had more time to write, I would. Your continued patience is a gift that I cherish.

Well…things were more focused on R&R in this chapter, but Tim & Darla will get their due later. I needed a quickie to soothe myself. (lol) More is coming with all 4 sooner than later, I hope. In this one, Raylan is closing in and Rachel is becoming a little seductress. Hmm… In an aside, did anyone else swoon on the last ep when he told her, "You know I think the world of you"? Of course, prior to that, I was ready to slug him. I have a gut feeling about those two on the series. We just may see them realized on screen, yet. As always, thanks again and I'd love to hear from you!]