A Texas Hero
Linda Warren
For single mother Abby Bauman, a failed marriage and a troublesome ex are proof of love gone wrong.But once she’s caught up in danger and saved—twice—by take-charge detective Ethan James, she considers whether falling for a true-blue hero is worth the risk. Even now, after the rescue, he seems bent on continuing to protect her and her daughter. Why?There’s more to Ethan’s determination to stay close than he’s telling her. But when he sets out to prove she’s more than just a means to solve a case, taking a second chance on trust, and love, might be the best choice Abby's ever made.
Falling for her protector
For single mother Abby Bauman, a failed marriage and a troublesome ex are proof of love gone wrong. But once she’s caught up in danger and saved—twice—by take-charge detective Ethan James, she considers whether falling for a true-blue hero is worth the risk. Even now, after the rescue, he seems bent on continuing to protect her and her daughter. Why?
There’s more to Ethan’s determination to stay close than he’s telling her. But when she confronts him, he proves she’s more than a means to solve a case. That tempts Abby to take a second chance on trust—and love. Which might be the best choice she’s ever made.
“We’ve hit water,” Ethan said.
Abby sank to the ground. Even though she wanted to guzzle it, she sipped and sipped. Handing it to him, she sighed. “Heaven. Pure heaven.”
He eased down by her and sipped until the water was gone. “This is better than sex.”
“You think so?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “At this exact moment, yes.”
He filled the pitcher three times. The third time they didn’t drink much. Ethan poured the last bit over his head and water ran down his face and onto his chest. Droplets clung to swirls of dark chest hairs. Without thinking, without judging herself, she leaned over and licked the drops from his warm skin.
He stiffened. She didn’t stop.
“Abby.”
Her lips touched his. He groaned, cupped her face and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.
Dear Reader,
I’m excited to start a new trilogy for Harlequin Superromance: Willow Creek, Texas. The stories are about three friends, Ethan, Carson and Levi, who grew up in the small town and one way or another find their way back to their roots.
Like most authors I’m often asked where I get my ideas. Everywhere is usually my answer, from TV to movies to the news and everyday life. In 2011, Texas suffered through the worst drought in its history. Lakes, stock tanks and creeks dried up. Ranchers had no grass so they either sold their cattle for next to nothing or had hay trucked in from other states.
It was a scary time as wildfires were rampant. One was not far from our house. We could see smoke billowing to the sky and I thought about the people who had to evacuate their homes, and how traumatic that must be for them. I prayed no one was trapped in the fire. Every day there seemed to be news of another fire, another evacuation. In the summer of 2011, the germ of an idea began. I would write about a wildfire, and the story for A Texas Hero was born.
Ethan and Abby are two complete strangers thrown together by extraordinary circumstances. The story is about surviving in tragedy and in love. I hope once you start reading you’ll be entertained to the very end.
With love and thanks,
Linda Warren
P.S. You can email me at Lw1508@aol.com or send me a message on Facebook (authorlindawarren (http://www.facebook.com/authorlindawarren)) or Twitter (@texauthor (https://twitter.com/texauthor)). You can also write me at P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805 or visit my website at www.lindawarren.net (http://www.lindawarren.net).
A Texas Hero
Linda Warren
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Warren is addicted to happy endings, and to get her fix she spends her days weaving happy-ever-after love stories for Harlequin. She’s a bestselling, two-time Rita®-nominated author and winner of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award, the National Readers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion, the Booksellers’ Best Award, the Book Buyers Best Award and the Golden Quill, but her readers and their support are her greatest reward. You can reach her at www.lindawarren.net (http://www.lindawarren.net).
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank the many long-suffering people who answered my pesky questions about banks, robbery, wildfires, child custody, parental rights and police procedure. And especially to Melody for sharing her beautician skills. I learned something important while doing research: never ask a banker how to unlock the front door or open the vault. Not a good question to ask. All errors are strictly mine.
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to the people of Texas who endured the drought of 2011. And to everyone who has dealt with the wrath of Mother Nature. God Bless.
Contents
Chapter One (#u79625f1b-b2dd-536a-a079-f40cd9f847bf)
Chapter Two (#ub79baca4-a3e5-527d-9621-f97c1e2e6e54)
Chapter Three (#u6f9445c8-5cd7-5ba1-ae60-12cc291feb27)
Chapter Four (#u6e4ac9e8-2ae2-5a7c-aca8-0143bc76afcd)
Chapter Five (#uc9056e71-d6ef-5962-8c47-de2329d2138b)
Chapter Six (#ue6affffd-e07f-5aa4-9de7-63e5cf295d6e)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
ABBY BAUMAN BELIEVED in real forever love.
Until she got married.
That’s when fantasy and reality collided like a chemistry experiment gone awry, stinking up the room and blowing out windows. That described her two-year marriage. It stunk. And blew all her dreams to hell.
Douglas Bauman, her ex-husband, did not know the meaning of the words forever and monogamy. Nor did he grasp the concept of the word divorce. After a year, he was still trying to weasel his way back into her life by manipulation, using their three-year-old daughter as leverage.
She swerved in and out of traffic like a Formula One driver, which she wasn’t. If she got one more ticket she wouldn’t be able to afford insurance. But thanks to her conniving ex, she was late.
Doug had Chloe every other weekend, and this was his weekend. As per his pattern, something had come up and he couldn’t pick up their daughter until noon. She told him to forget it and that she would be talking to her lawyer on Monday to change the custody agreement. Hanging up before he could respond gave her little satisfaction. Once again, she had to call her father to ask him to babysit, which took a strip off her pride because she did not get along with her stepmom, who was a Sue Sylvester of Glee double. Gayle shouldn’t be allowed around children.
Since Abby had to be at work at 8:15 a.m. and Doug had called at 7:15, she had few options. And it was a Saturday. Her friends had other plans or liked to sleep in on the weekends. As did Gayle.
Her dad lived twenty-five minutes away in Barton Springs, while she lived near downtown Austin, Texas. She had to ask him to pick up Chloe because there was no other way if she was to make it to work on time. As usual, he agreed. He was a sweetheart. She just hated to cause friction in his marriage. But frantically looking for a babysitter would change once she spoke to her lawyer on Monday. She wasn’t putting up with any more of Doug’s crap.
The light ahead was yellow. She pressed on the gas, zooming through, hoping no cops were in sight. This wasn’t the first time Doug had bailed on keeping Chloe. It would be his last, though.
Her cell on the console buzzed and she pushed speaker phone. “Hi, Hol.”
“Hey, girl. You ready for tonight? Wear something low-cut and short.”
“I can’t go.” Since Doug had Chloe for the weekend, she and her friend had planned a girl’s night out. She’d known Holly all her life. They’d met in kindergarten.
“Don’t tell me he did it to you again?”
“Yes. I wish I had known you were up this early. I’d have dropped Chloe at your apartment. I had to call Dad again and you know how that goes.”
“Sorry. You need a better lawyer, that’s all. Someone who is not intimidated by the wealthy Baumans.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Since you’re a cop, maybe you can get me the name of a good lawyer just in case the one I have gives me any flak.”
“You bet.”
“Come over this afternoon and we’ll take Chloe swimming in the apartment complex pool. Bring your rubber duckie.”
“Oh, gee, I can hardly contain my excitement.”
“Damn!”
“What?”
“I missed my turn.” Without thinking, she slammed on the brakes. A loud thump followed that jarred her car.
“Damn!”
“What’s going on?”
“Someone just rear-ended me. I’ll call you later.” She jumped out into traffic to see a man inspecting the damage to the front of his truck. He turned to glare at her.
“Why the hell did you stop?”
The early-morning August sun beamed down on them, but more heat seemed to be emanating from the stranger, rolling off his tall, lean body in waves of controlled anger. And it was directed at her.
“I missed my turn and...”
“So you just stopped on a busy highway?” She could almost read stupid woman in his narrowed dark eyes. He flung a hand toward his truck. “You’re going to pay for this. This thing is new and you’ve scratched my bumper with your insane driving.”
“Your bumper? Look at my trunk!” She lost her cool for a second but she quickly corralled her rising temper. Glancing at her watch, she realized she had eight minutes to get to work. That put everything into perspective. She needed her job. “Follow me to that bank.” She pointed across the freeway. “I work there, and we can exchange information.” Turning on her heel, she marched to her car.
In her rearview mirror she saw the what-the-hell look on his etched-in-granite face. His dark hair was slicked back and wet as if he’d just gotten out of the shower or had an early-morning swim. He was dressed for the heat in cargo shorts, Crocs and a white T-shirt that had Don’t Mess With Me emblazoned on it. Yeah, she got the message. Jerk.
A slight clang echoed as she pulled away. She probably wouldn’t be able to open her trunk now and she’d have to ask her dad for help. She really needed to find a handy boyfriend, but these days she viewed most guys as jerks. Good guys were out there and she wasn’t giving up on finding one. But lately, that feeling of hope needed a resurrection. Maybe she could talk Holly into taking a mechanics class. Then she could fix her own vehicle. No man required.
She pulled into the parking lot of one of the branch convenient banks scattered across Austin. Mr. Harmon, the manager, pulled in beside her in his Buick. No sign of the big silver truck or the furious stranger. Had she lost him? That would be a stroke of luck, but luck was more inclined to slap her in the face.
“It’s going to be another scorcher today, Abby,” Mr. Harmon said as they walked to a side door. The man was in his sixties and after over thirty years in banking, he planned to retire in October and move to Florida to be near his daughter. He was easy to work for, and she would miss him.
“The weatherman said one hundred and two for the high today,” she replied.
“Oh, heavens. It’s a good thing we have air-conditioning.”
The silver truck pulled into the parking area and the stranger strolled toward them with long, sure strides. He exuded strength, power and control. From his sun-kissed skin to his amazing biceps, he was obviously a man of action and loved the outdoors. Or maybe he spent a lot of time in a gym and a tanning salon. Either way, the arrogant Neanderthal was not her type.
As the stranger approached, Mr. Harmon said, “I’m sorry, sir. Only the drive-through is available on Saturdays. It will be opened shortly and you...”
“Oh, sorry.” Abby hurried to explain. “I had a minor accident on the way here and I just needed to give him my insurance information.” She dug in her purse for her business card, found a pen and scribbled the info on the back. Handing him the card, she said, “Call me Monday and we’ll get everything straight.” And fix your itty-bitty scratch, she added as an afterthought in her head. She didn’t even want to think about her insurance rate going up.
He nodded and turned to walk away. The screech of tires drew their attention. A battered white van swerved into the lot and backed to the curb. The double doors flew open and two guys in Halloween masks holding handguns jumped out and ran to them.
“Open the door. Open the door!” they shouted.
A robbery!
Abby’s heart jackknifed into her throat. Mr. Harmon’s hand shook as he punched in the code and used his key to open the door. The robbers pushed them all inside.
The one wearing a gorilla mask pointed a gun at Mr. Harmon. “Open the vault. Now!”
Mr. Harmon’s fair skin turned even paler, but he managed to open the vault. The bank didn’t carry large amounts. Just enough to cash payroll checks, but it was probably more than the two would see in a lifetime.
The robber shoved Walmart bags at her. “Fill these up. Fast. And don’t push any alarms and no color bombs. You got it?”
Abby nodded, entered the vault and threw wrapped twenties into the bag. Her hands shook and she kept repeating what she’d learned in classes for just this type of situation. Stay calm. Do as asked. Do not risk your life.
The last one stuck in her mind as she pushed the silent alarm. It was hard to detect and she flicked her hand across it as she pulled out stacks of twenties. She handed the guy two bags and just then a siren wailed in the distance.
The gorilla-masked guy shoved a gun in her face. She trembled. “Did you push an alarm?”
“N-o, no. You watched me the whole time.”
He pressed the end of the barrel against her temple. The cold steel on her skin propelled rolls of shivers through her.
“If you did, bitch, it’ll be the last thing you do.” The odor of sweat mixed with marijuana clogged her nostrils.
“O-oh. Oh.” Mr. Harmon clutched his chest and crumpled to the floor.
“Mr. Harmon!” She fell down by him to see if he was okay. He was so still. She wasn’t sure he was breathing.
“Man, we gotta go,” the one with the clown mask shouted. “The cops are coming.”
The other robber grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. “We’ll take her as a hostage. If she set off the alarm, she’s gonna pay for it.”
“Let’s go! Let’s go!”
The guy dragged her out of the vault. She couldn’t think. Her mind was wrapped around a cold ball of fear.
“Come on, man,” the stranger spoke up, cool as ice water. “She’s a woman. She’ll only slow you down. Take me.”
“C’mon,” the clown guy at the door yelled. “We’re losing time. The cops will be here any second.”
“We’re taking both of them,” the other robber decided, pushing them toward the door and to the van.
Never get into a van. Never get into a van. The warning ran through her mind and she dug in her heels. “I’m not getting in.”
The gorilla guy slapped her hard across the face and knocked her halfway into the van. The stranger jumped him but was stopped when the man shoved a gun into his ribs.
“Get her into the van,” the guy growled. “I’ll deal with you later.”
The stranger lifted her inside. He was gentle. That was the only thing that registered besides the sense of doom clogging her lungs. The doors slammed shut and they roared away onto the freeway.
The clown guy drove and the other one sat in the back with them. The van was dark. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. A piece of dirty, stained carpet was on the floor and heat rose up from the hot highway, warming her backside. That was the least of her worries. Her jaw ached and she couldn’t think clearly. Chloe. Her precious baby. Would she ever see her again?
Suddenly, the siren was closer and the wail was deafening. “Lookie there, Rudy, it’s an ambulance. She didn’t alert the cops.”
“Shut up, you idiot. Now they know my name.”
“So? Dead people don’t talk.”
The stranger moved beside her. “Stay calm,” he whispered.
“What did you say to her?” Rudy demanded.
“It’s damn hot in here,” the stranger retorted. “Doesn’t this thing have air-conditioning?”
Rudy waved the gun. “Shut your trap.” He reached behind him and pulled out a roll of duct tape. “Tape his wrists together,” he said to her.
She didn’t move. The heat and gas fumes hampered her breathing.
“Now!” he screamed.
She dragged in air and reached for the tape. The stranger held his wrists together and she nervously wounded the tape around them. His hands were strong, his fingers lean.
“Tighter,” Rudy yelled.
She pulled until her arms hurt and then she used her teeth to rip into it. The stranger’s dark eyes watched her. There was something in them she couldn’t define. A message, maybe. Trust me. Or was she reading what she wanted to see?
“Holy shit, Rudy,” the driver called. “There go four police cars and a SWAT van. The old man must have woken up and called them. Too bad, suckers. We’re long gone.”
The van rolled to a stop.
“What the hell you stopping for?”
“Red light, dude.”
“Watch the man so I can tie up the woman.”
The vehicle was basically a shell with two seats. The driver pointed a gun at them and Rudy whipped the tape around her wrists. He still had on the mask and all she could see were his dull green eyes staring at her from behind a gorilla face. Goose bumps popped up on her skin.
“Hey, dude, we got a looker here. I might keep her.” He ran his hand up her arm and she jerked away. “She’s feisty, too.”
“Leave her alone,” the stranger snapped
“Shut up,” Rudy hissed, “or I’ll tape your mouth.”
“There’s a cop car behind us,” the driver said as they moved through the light.
“What the frickin’ hell?” Rudy looked out the small back windows. “His light’s blinking. Don’t stop.”
“No way. I can lose him,” the driver bragged.
“He’s going around us.”
“Yeah, Rudy. He’s turning around up ahead. Must be heading to the bank to give assistance. Sucker! Cops are idiots.”
“Turn off this damn highway,” Rudy ordered. “And follow the route I told you.”
The van swerved onto another road and then another and Abby knew they were miles away from the bank...away from safety. Suddenly they turned onto a dirt road and bounced along on uneven ground, knocking her against the stranger, except he didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.
He watched the gunman as if waiting to catch him off guard. But what could he do? His hands were tied, literally.
The van hit a pothole and her body slammed against the stranger’s. Her shoulder pressed into his and her thigh molded to his tight muscles. His strength radiated to her and her grip of fear lessened. She wasn’t in this alone. He was her ally. Her prince? Oh, God, had the heat twisted her brain? But he would be her only hope in the hours ahead.
And she didn’t even know his name.
* * *
ETHAN JAMES WATCHED the robber, reading him like he had so many other criminals. His teeth were yellow, his fingertips yellower and his eyes were dull and bloodshot. A drug-head. Which meant he was capable of anything—and he was dangerous. Ethan had to be careful.
The woman was holding up well. No crying, screaming or panic attacks. She had to stay calm if they were going to make it out of this ordeal alive. The odds were against them. Two armed druggies, and one of them had his eye on her. This was a highly volatile situation, and there was nothing he could do but try to protect her.
Would he risk his life for hers? He had a daughter at home to think about—a kid who was a stranger to him and seemed to hate him. But since he’d won full custody, he was trying to be a good father. He’d never had that chance before.
He promised to take Kelsey horseback riding this morning. Another promise broken. His whole life was riddled with them, and most of them were out of his control. Because he always put his job first.
He glanced at the woman who sat in a petrified state. Why in the hell had she stopped short? Now he might never see his daughter again. The woman was beautiful, he’d give her that. A blue-eyed blonde with inviting curves like he’d seen in numerous magazines—made to look at but not touch.
Her hair hung to her shoulders and dripped with sweat, as his did. A sleeveless green top was cut low, too low for guys with trouble on their minds. The filth in the van stained her white slacks. He was annoyed with her, yet empathetic at the same time. This kind of situation wasn’t easy for the strongest of women. Or even the strongest of men.
He tried to gauge how long they’d been on the road, but wasn’t quite sure. On and on they rode. Branches rubbed against the van so he knew they were in a remote area. That wasn’t good. Too much could happen away from civilization. They came to a sudden stop and the double doors opened. “Get out,” Rudy shouted.
Ethan scooted to the door and stood. He turned to help the woman but she was right behind him. After the semidarkness of the van, the sun was blinding. He blinked several times to adjust his eyes. The woman stumbled but maintained her balance.
A run-down shack was in front of him. Dried dead weeds surrounded it. No one had been here in a long time. Rudy shoved them toward a broken step. The door was half open, the lock rusted shut. Floorboards creaked as they went inside. A rat the size of a raccoon ran across the floor.
“Oh.” The woman stepped back, but didn’t scream or fall apart. He admired that. The rat was a little too big for his comfort zone, too.
“Sit down,” Rudy ordered.
The dirty floor was uncomfortable, but they were out of the hot van and able to breathe. Ethan took in the tiny room at a glance. Part of the roof had caved in over the sink. The refrigerator looked rusted shut, too. Two steel bunk beds with rotted mattresses stood in a corner. Junk littered the wobbly plank floor, and the glass in the two windows was broken out. An abandoned deer-hunter’s cabin, was his thought. How were the two hoods connected to it?
“Don’t even think about moving,” Rudy warned and walked out the door.
Ethan eased to his feet to listen and maybe get a glimpse of their faces. The masks had to be hot. He heard their voices.
“I’m sweating bullets in this mask.” That was the driver.
“Take it off. We don’t need them anymore,” Rudy told him.
“What are we gonna do?”
“This sounded good last night when I was high.” Rudy removed his mask. “Man, the boss is gonna be pissed.”
“Who cares? We’ve got the money and we’ll head to Houston and get lost.”
“I’m taking the woman with me.” Rudy made that clear.
“You’re stupid, man. I didn’t agree on no kidnapping. She’ll get us caught.”
“Shut up.”
Ethan took a quick peep. They stood by the van. Rudy was white, the other guy black, but he already knew that from their hands. He had to get the woman out of here and fast. Rudy was determined to have her.
He stepped over beer cans to the window and saw nothing but thick woods. This was their way out and they had to take it quickly.
“What are you doing?” the woman whispered.
“We’re crawling out this window,” he whispered back.
“Our hands are tied.”
“A minor problem,” he replied. “C’mon. We have to go before they come back.”
After a bit of a struggle, she got to her feet and walked to him.
“Balance with your hands and swing your legs over the sill. I’ll help.”
“I can do it,” she snapped.
“Lady, I’m the only friend you got so don’t be short with me.”
“Sorry. I’m just on edge.”
“We don’t have time for this. Go! Once outside, run into the woods, and don’t look back, even if they capture me, even if they shoot at you. Keep running. Hide. Anything to save yourself because, lady, you don’t want to experience what these guys have in mind for you.”
She visibly paled.
“Go!”
She slid one long leg over the dust-covered ledge, balanced with her clasped hands and slid out kind of sideways, but she’d done it. Thank God she wore flats. High heels would have made running away impossible.
He followed and had to bend low to get his body through the hole. Then he was off running behind her. Shots rang out, disturbing the stillness of the trees. Disturbing his equilibrium. He caught up with her.
“I can’t breathe,” she gasped.
He had that problem, too. The heat was suffocating, and he knew they had to stop or collapse from it. They came to a gully and slid down it. He took her clasped hands and pulled her up the other side. They gulped in hot air.
Voices echoed through the trees.
“We have to go. Walk on the leaves. Try not to disturb them.” She followed orders easily and he liked that. The woods grew thicker and difficult to get through. “We have to find a hiding place.”
“Where?” She looked at the dense woods all around them.
He pushed through thick yaupons and saw a felled oak tree with more yaupons growing around it. “C’mon.” The tree was big and had been dead for some time. “We’ll hide behind this.” He pulled back some branches and they crawled in. “Lie lengthways against the trunk, your taped hands out in front, and don’t make a sound.” She stretched out against the trunk and he joined her—their hands inches apart.
Voices rumbled through the dense woods.
“Have you found them?” Rudy shouted.
“No, man. Let’s get the hell out of here. This ain’t part of our plan.”
“Screw the plan.” Rudy’s voice rose. “Shoot the guy. The woman is mine.”
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY HUGGED THE rotted tree trunk with her body. Dust clogged her nose, and dirt coated her skin and clothes. Vivid terror held her captive like a ball and chain clamped to her. It beat a rapid warning in her chest.
She inched her fingers along the ground, through the leaves to touch the man’s hands. He clutched hers. He was there...with her. The thought gave her courage, which she feared she would need in the next few minutes.
“They have to be here somewhere,” Rudy said. “Help me look.”
“I’m done, man. I’m taking the money and leaving.”
“You better not.”
“The woman’s only trouble. She’ll get us caught, Rudy, and I’m not going back to prison.”
“You sorry bastard.”
“So long, sucker.”
“Devon!”
A gunshot rang out followed by a curse. Then a barrage of bullets slammed into the woods. A couple of shots hit the tree and the dried wood splintered over them. Neither moved or made a sound, but she gripped the man’s fingers tighter.
“You sorry sons of bitches, I hope you die out here,” Rudy screamed, and then the pounding of footfalls receded into the distance. Still neither one of them moved.
Neither wanted to die.
Silence was crucial.
Creep-crawly bugs swarmed out of the tree, covering their arms. Were they termites? Did they bite? The feel of them on her skin made her want to scream, but she knew her very life depended on her not responding.
The silence stretched. A soft rustling was the only sound. Sweat ran from her hair onto her neck and the heat was stifling. Breathing was difficult. She had to get out of here. Away from the bugs. The heat. Panic rose in her chest, but reality kept her grounded.
She lifted her head from her arm. “Are they gone?” came out barely audible.
“I’ll check.” He looked over the trunk and surveyed the scene. Then they both heard the sound—the revving of a motor. “They’re leaving.”
“Both of them?”
“I’m not sure, but we have to get this tape off our hands.” They shook off the bugs and crawled through the yaupons into a small opening. They sat in the dirt while he kept one eye on the woods, in case Rudy was lurking behind a tree.
With his teeth, he caught the edge of the tape on his wrists and pulled. Scooting closer, she used her fingers to help undo it. Then he helped her free her hands. The tape left open welts on her skin, but she was glad to be free of it.
“Now what?” she asked, instinctively knowing he would know what to do.
“We start walking.” He rose to his feet, as did she. Slowly, they trekked through the woods, down the gully and back to the shack. The van was gone and the dried grass torn apart where the men had sped away. “They’re gone,” he said. “I guess Rudy decided to go with the money.”
Sweat rolled down her back and pooled at her waistline. She was miserable, but at his words relief washed over her.
They were gone.
All the courage she had mustered and the fear she’d bottled up inside burst forth into an array of weakness she couldn’t control. Her body trembled and tears rolled from her eyes.
“Hey.” He touched her arm. “No tears. It’s dehydrating. Take a deep breath and keep all that moisture inside. You can’t fall apart now.”
“I...I...” She couldn’t form a sentence and she felt so weak in front of this strong man.
“C’mon. Let’s sit under a shade tree and figure out what we need to do.”
She sank down under a huge live oak, willing the tears away as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “I’m so thirsty,” she murmured.
“Me, too.” He sat beside her and drew up his knees. His legs and arms had scratches from the trees and she realized her arms were scratched, too. Yet he seemed cool as ever, unruffled about what they’d been through.
“Who are you?”
He looked at her and his dark eyes were tired, the first signs of stress she’d noticed. “Ethan James.”
“Thank you” was all she could say. After a moment, she found more words. “I’m so grateful you insisted on coming. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I wanted to make sure I get my bumper fixed.”
Through all her agony, she smiled. “I’ll fix it with my own two hands.”
They stared at each other for a long time and Abby felt a connection like she’d never felt before—a connection of trust and friendship. And above that she knew she could depend on him. Words like honor, loyalty and hero floated through her mind. She didn’t think there were men like him left. Of course, she could be delusional. But she still wanted to know more about him.
“What do you do, Ethan James?”
“I’m a detective for the Austin Police Department. I work homicide.”
It fit. “That’s why you’re so cool and collected.”
“I was in the Marines, too. The first thing you learn is to never show fear.”
“You have that mastered.”
“On the outside. Inside is a different story.” He leaned forward, scanning the landscape, and she knew he wasn’t going to talk anymore about himself. “We have two goals—to find water and a way out.”
“The police will be looking for us.”
“Yeah, but they don’t have a clue where we are. Our only hope is that there are surveillance cameras in the bank and...”
“Inside and out,” she said.
“Good. Then maybe that van will show up on the cameras and the cops can trace it. But that doesn’t help us unless Rudy or Devon tells them where they left us. They’ll deny it at first. All criminals do. The detectives will have to apply pressure and that will take time.”
“You mean we could be out here overnight?”
“Yes.” He got to his feet. “I’m guessing this is an old deer-hunter’s cabin that hasn’t been used for a while. The gully is probably a creek that dried up from the drought. But I’m hoping the hunters had access to another water supply. I’ll take a look around.”
He walked toward the shack and she had the urge to run after him. But she knew he wouldn’t leave her here. Strange, how she was so sure of that. She leaned her head against the tree and wondered if her father had been notified. Her heart ached at what he must be going through. He was strong, though, and would take care of Chloe. She was sure of that. Just like she was sure Ethan James would get them out of this nightmare.
The hot sun bore down like a furnace and she guessed it had to be midmorning by now. She’d left the house in such a hurry earlier that she’d forgotten her watch. In the afternoon the sun would be unbearable, and they would not be able to survive without water.
She was tired and thirsty and a feeling of lethargy washed over her. If she closed her eyes, she’d wake up in her apartment holding Chloe and watching SpongeBob SquarePants. The morning would all be a bad dream. Because men like Ethan James only appeared in women’s fantasies. They didn’t exist in real life.
* * *
“YOU KNEW WE had plans for the day. Why did you agree to keep Chloe?”
Everett Baines looked up from his paper into the furious face of his wife. “Abby needed help and I’m her father. I will always be there for her.”
“But we had plans.”
“Picking out new patio furniture? We can do that tomorrow or the next day.”
“You always put them before me—your wife.”
“Gayle, I’m not having this conversation with you again.” He picked up his coffee cup. “I’m going to watch cartoons with my granddaughter.”
“I’m still going shopping.”
“Fine. Buy whatever you want.” He walked into the den, placed his cup on the end table, and picked up his granddaughter from the sofa. Abby had her dressed in pink shorts, a pink-and-white halter top, white sandals and pink bows in her blond hair. Chloe clutched Baby, her favorite doll.
“Is Daddy coming, Grandpa?” she asked.
“No, sweetiepie. Your mom will pick you up.”
“’Kay.”
Everett had offered to pay for a top-notch lawyer, but Abby always refused. Because of Gayle. This time he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Doug’s lawyer controlled the situation and the visitation set out in the divorce papers. Which meant nothing to Doug, who did as he pleased. When Abby complained, the lawyers talked but nothing changed. That wasn’t acceptable anymore.
Sitting in his chair, he cradled Chloe close. She looked so much like Abby had at that age, blond curls and big blue eyes. Thank God she didn’t look anything like her father.
“Aren’t you going to feed her breakfast?” Gayle asked from behind him. “Abby lets her eat all that sugary cereal. It’s not good for her.”
“Go shopping, Gayle, before I lose my temper.”
The doorbell rang before she could get in a retort. “I’ll get it,” Gayle said. “Maybe it’s Doug for Chloe and then we can have our weekend back.”
He hated to tell her but he wasn’t going shopping under any circumstances. Abby’s last words were for him not to let Doug have Chloe. And he would honor her wishes. Doug needed to be taught a lesson.
Two tall men with Stetsons in their hands walked into the den. One had a gun on his belt as well as a badge. A cop. Something was wrong.
“Everett, these men would like to talk to you.”
He got to his feet, holding Chloe.
“I’ll take Chloe and fix her something to eat,” Gayle offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” he replied, but didn’t object as she took the little girl from him.
“Have a seat.” He waved a hand toward the sofa and resumed his. “What’s this about?”
The men sat, but it was a moment before either spoke. “It’s about your daughter, Mr. Baines,” the one with the badge told him.
“Abby.” He scooted to the edge of his seat, the hollowness in his stomach telling him it was something bad. “She’s at work.”
“That’s why we’re here. I’m Ross Logan with the Austin Police Department and this is Levi Coyote, a private investigator.”
He shook his head. “What does this have to do with my daughter?”
“I don’t know how else to say this, sir, but the bank where your daughter works was robbed this morning.”
“Oh, God! My d-daughter. Where’s my daughter?”
“She was taken hostage.”
“What!” His chest tightened in pain and he leaned back, clutching it.
Both men were on their feet.
“Mr. Baines, are you okay?” Ross asked.
“Everett!” Gayle screamed.
He gathered himself and sat up. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m calling your doctor,” Gayle insisted.
“Do not call my doctor,” he warned. “It’s just the shock.”
“Do you have heart problems, Mr. Baines?” Levi asked.
“No. I had a spell one time, but the doctor said it was anxiety. I have a lot of stress in my life.”
“Maybe you should get checked out,” Ross suggested.
“No. Tell me what happened.”
The detective hesitated.
“Tell me.”
Gayle handed him a glass of water. He took a sip and placed the glass by his coffee.
“The silent alarm went off at 8:14 a.m. this morning. Officers arrived at 8:17 a.m. to find the door unlocked and Frank Harmon on the floor in the vault.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s had a massive heart attack and is at the hospital. We haven’t gotten an update on his condition, but he’s critical.”
“Good God.”
“Your daughter’s purse and phone were on the floor of the vault. We’re assuming that’s where she pushed the alarm.”
“Oh, what she must have gone through.” Everett put his head in his hands.
“Does your daughter know Ethan James?”
Everett raised his head. “No. I don’t recognize the name. Who is he?”
“His truck was found at the bank.”
“So he’s involved with the robbery?”
“No, sir,” Ross replied. “He’s my partner and a detective. His wallet and phone were in his truck, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
He frowned. “What does this mean?”
“We’re thinking Ethan and Ms. Bauman were taken as hostages.”
“Why would the robbers do that? I’ve been in banking all of my adult life and robbers are not known for taking hostages. It’s excess baggage and slows them down.”
“We’re not sure about that, but we’ll known more soon.”
He looked them in the eye. “Oh, but you do know, don’t you? My daughter is very beautiful and they took her for dire reasons.”
They didn’t dispute that and his blood ran cold.
“Mr. Baines, Ethan is with her and if anyone can get her out of that situation, he can. He’s a former marine, tough and smart.”
“I admire your confidence, Mr. Logan, but...”
Levi squatted in front of him. “Ethan and I grew up together and I know him well enough to say he will sacrifice his life to save your daughter’s. Hang on to that. Be positive. We’ll keep you posted and notify you the moment we locate them.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Could I please have a number to call to get updates?”
Ross scribbled something on a business card and handed it to him. “That’s my cell.”
“Thank you.”
“The investigators are going through the digital video from the surveillance cameras. We’re hoping to get an ID of the vehicle they used or anything that can point us in the right direction. We’ll be in contact.” They walked toward the foyer, but Ross turned back. “We found Douglas Bauman’s cell number in your daughter’s purse. He didn’t answer our call and we didn’t leave a message.”
“He’s her ex and not involved in her life in any way, except with their daughter. Do not waste your time on him.”
Ross nodded. “As you wish.”
With extreme effort Everett got to his feet. Gayle put her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”
He pulled away. “No, you’re not. You’re finally going to get your wish, Gayle. The next call I receive might be to tell me my daughter is dead. She’ll be out of our lives for good.”
“How can you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s true.” He waved a hand around the room. “We have a four-bedroom, five-bath home and my daughter has never spent one night here. I’ve asked dozens of times, especially when I keep Chloe so Abby can go out and have fun like other young women, but she refuses. She knows you don’t want her here. You don’t want my only child in any part of our lives.”
“That’s not true! She doesn’t like me.”
“Oh, please. I’m tired of listening to that excuse. I’m just tired of the tension you create. Now I’m going to hold my granddaughter and pray like I’ve never prayed before.” He spared her a glance. “And you can go shopping.”
* * *
ETHAN CANVASSED THE place, but found nothing useful. Everything was old, rusted and bug-infested. He strolled back to the woman. She’d fallen asleep leaning against the tree, her head tilted to the left. Her hair, matted with leaves and dirt, hung in rattails around her face. The left side of her face was badly bruised where the bastard had hit her. Her arms bore scratches from tree branches and her clothes were filthy. Even with all that, it was hard to disguise her beauty.
He was good at reading people. He’d guess she was a sorority girl who’d led a privileged life. But that didn’t quite fit. She worked in a bank, so that meant she was a working girl, supporting herself or her family. And she had an inner strength he’d noticed right away. Not many women would have had the nerve to say to his face that they didn’t have time to deal with the wreck and to meet them at the bank. He’d thought of arresting her for being so damn cheeky.
Whoever she was, he knew someone she loved was getting bad news right about now, like his dad and Kelsey. The last thing his kid needed was to have her father go missing.
He eased down by the woman and she instantly woke up, blinked, looked at him and then closed her eyes tightly.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?” she asked.
“Afraid not.”
She opened her eyes and he was struck by how blue they were. He felt he could see all the way to heaven through them—and he wasn’t a poetic man. Since he’d sworn off women about two years ago, he found that odd and disturbing. He wasn’t interested in the woman. In his experience, even the nicest of women turned into a bitch once the honeymoon period ended.
“Did you find any water? Anything?”
“Nope. There’s an old well, but the rusted pump has caved into it. It’s useless.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We walk out of here and try to survive in this heat.”
“That’s impossible without water.”
“We have to stay in the shade and take breaks. Who knows—” he added at her despondent look “—there could be a convenience store just beyond those trees.”
“Yeah, right.”
From her tone, he sensed the woman didn’t want him to sugarcoat anything so he’d stick to the facts. “I’m guessing we were in the van from thirty to forty minutes so we’re out of Austin and apparently deep into deer country, but where I have no idea. We turned right from the bank. That means we headed south, and then we turned east, but there were so many turns after that I lost track.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Abby Bauman.”
“Of the banking Baumans?”
“I married Douglas Bauman, Jr., but we’ve been divorced for over a year.”
“And you have to work?”
“I didn’t want anything from him but my freedom and custody of our daughter.”
“How did that work out?”
She glared at him. “You’re...very abrupt. I guess it comes from your line of work.”
He studied the tight lines around her full lips. “I think you meant to say I’m a bastard, and you’d be right. A lot of my attitude comes from my job. I deal with the seedier, horrific side of life. And it isn’t pretty or uplifting.”
“Then why do it?”
“It’s who I am. A hard-nosed bastard who’s gonna get you if you’re stupid enough to cross a line to kill someone and think you can get away with it.”
Her baby blues opened wide. “I’ve come to the conclusion that all men are jerks and you’ve just proven my point.” She wiggled her hand back and forth. “With you, though, it might be borderline insanity.”
“You could be right.”
“I’m sorry. That was rude.” She changed her mind a lot, as most women were known to do.
“Ah, lady, you’re...”
“Don’t call me lady,” she snapped. “My name is Abby.”
“Well, Abby, it takes a lot more than that to hurt my feelings. You want to know what really gets me upset? It’s when an airhead stops in the middle of a damn highway.”
“Don’t call me an airhead.”
He shrugged, realizing they both were venting their frustrations of the morning on each other.
“I’m sorry I stopped like that. Doug has our daughter every other weekend and he pulled a no-show like he usually does. I had to scramble to call my dad to take care of Chloe and to get to work on time. I was fuming and missed my turn. I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking, but I’m really grateful you were at the bank this morning. And it was incredibly heroic of you to offer to take my place.”
She did the unexpected with her honesty, took him out of his don’t-get-involved comfort zone and made him see her as a person with everyday problems. He didn’t like that she did it so easily. “Lady, I—” He held up a hand as she made to object. “Abby, I’m not a hero. I’m just trying to get us out of this situation alive.”
One eyebrow arched. “You really are a bastard.”
“Remember that and you and I will get along fine.”
“Jerk.”
He scooted up against the tree, his shoulder touching hers. “Save all that energy for later.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have to walk out of here in the heat.”
“How will we know where to go?”
“We’ll follow the trail the van made coming in and out. Hopefully, we’ll come to a dirt road and we can flag someone down.”
“We can do it, right?”
“Yep.”
He looked into her concerned blue eyes and saw a lot more than he wanted to. Femininity. Beauty. Strength. Trouble. His defenses were rock-solid against the fairer sex. He’d been burned too many times to let his guard down. But there was something about her that made him feel weak. And that brought out the true bastard in him. There was no way a woman was taking advantage of him again.
CHAPTER THREE
WALTON JAMES GLANCED at the wall clock in the kitchen one more time. After eleven. Ethan had said he’d be home at least by nine and to make sure Kelsey was up and ready to go riding. The poor kid had been in the kitchen three times to ask if Ethan was home.
She didn’t call him Dad or Daddy and he supposed that was understandable since they’d just met two years ago, but it grated on the one good nerve he still had. It was just plain disrespectful.
The girl’s attitude was a little hard to take, but Ethan had asked him to make an effort to get along. And he’d do anything for his boy, even put the skids on his cussing. He was an old cowboy and cowboys cussed. That was just a fact. Facing seventy, he was doing his best to tame his colorful tongue.
He glanced at the clock again. Where was Ethan?
A knock sounded at the door and he ambled toward it. Ross Logan, Ethan’s partner, and Levi Coyote, a friend and neighbor, stood outside.
“What are you boys doing here? Ethan with you?” He looked around them, but only saw Rowdy, his blue heeler, wagging his tail for another biscuit. He’d already given him two. He wasn’t getting any more.
“Walt, could we talk to you for a minute?” Levi asked.
“Sure. Come on in.” He followed them into the living room and sat on the edge of his recliner while they eased onto the brown tweed sofa. Walt knew trouble. He’d seen it a lot of times in his life. And he was looking square at it in the eyes of Ross and Levi.
“Just tell me about Ethan. Where is he? I know that’s why you’re here.”
“Have you had the TV on this morning? Or a radio?” Ross asked.
“Nope. I had calves to feed and then I fixed breakfast for Kelsey. Ethan said he’d be here by nine and I’ve been waiting and waiting.” He looked directly at Levi because he knew the man would give him a straight answer. “What happened to my son?”
Levi twisted the hat in his hand. “There was a bank robbery off I-35 this morning. Ethan’s truck was parked outside, but he’s nowhere to be found. A woman teller is missing, too.”
“Holy...sh—crap.”
Levi’s lips twitched. “Still trying to curb those curse words?”
“Yeah. And there’s a bunch burning my tongue right now. What was Ethan doing at a bank? He didn’t say anything about stopping. He was anxious to get home to Kelsey.”
“We don’t have any answers yet, but...” Ross’s cell rang. He stood as he talked. Closing his phone, he said, “Gotta go. A white van was identified on the security cameras. I want to be with the SWAT team when they make contact with the owner.”
“I’ll call you later, Walt.” Levi followed Ross to the door.
“Just bring my son home safe.”
“Ethan’s been kidnapped?” Kelsey asked from the hall doorway.
Walt had to blink every time he looked at his granddaughter. Long black hair hung around her face. Dyed black hair. That crazy mother of hers let the child dye her hair with a purple streak. Her T-shirt and jeans were black, as were her fingernails and toenails. It felt like an alien had been dropped among them.
Levi took a step toward her. “We’ll do everything we can to find him.”
“Like I care.” She turned on her heel and marched back to her room, slamming the door.
Walt pointed a finger at Levi. “Find Ethan and bring him home. My patience is wearing about as thin as the hair on my head.”
“Try not to worry,” Levi told him.
“Yeah. That’s what the bobcat said to the chicken right before he took a big bite.”
“I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
Walt went out the back door to the wood deck Ethan had built for Kelsey, complete with a barbecue pit and lawn furniture so she could have friends over. He’d also installed a trampoline. Kelsey never used any of them. She stayed locked in her room watching vampire movies. He’d always wanted a grandchild, but he never dreamed it would be like this.
He sank into a cushioned redwood chair and buried his face in his hands. His boy had to come home. And then he did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He prayed.
* * *
ABBY FOLLOWED ETHAN’S rigid back through the woods. Her sweat-soaked body ached, but she trudged on, determined not to slow them down. She hoped her dad wasn’t too worried. He’d had a spell with his heart a few months ago and she didn’t want it to turn into something more. Dealing with Doug wasn’t going to be easy. He’d demand to take Chloe, if only to show the world he was a good father and to prove Abby was inept as a mother.
Her game plan of the morning had changed drastically. Doug would appear all concerned but he would use the morning’s events against her when it came to custody of Chloe. Her job was dangerous; he’d said that so many times, especially since there had been a rash of bank robberies lately.
She’d been a vice president in the corporate offices of the Bauman bank. When she had Chloe, she’d stayed at home to be a mom. Even after the divorce was final, Doug continually pleaded for her to come back to her old job where it was safe, but she stuck to her guns of being independent and on her own. Being a teller was a long way from her cushy job.
Instead of thinking of the past, she concentrated on the man ahead of her. He really went out of his way to be rude. Why would he do that? She’d read somewhere that victims often fell in love with their rescuers. That was one concern he didn’t have to worry about. She wasn’t in the mood to fall in love, especially with a hard-ass like him.
She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in his life to make him so harsh and disillusioned about women. In that area they had a lot in common. She wasn’t sure if she knew what love was anymore.
God, she was so thirsty. And hot. When was he going to stop? No sooner than the thought had left her mind, he stopped, and, of course, she ran into him.
“Oh.” She stepped back. “You startled me.” His back was like a wall of steel. She’d never touched anything that powerful, and she was really glad he was on her side. Or, at least, she thought he was. Sometimes it was difficult to tell.
“Time for a break,” he said and slid to the ground beneath a huge oak. He sat, his back against the tree, his arms by his sides, his legs outstretched—totally at rest.
“How far do you think we’ve walked?” she asked, sitting beside him.
“Maybe two miles.”
“And nothing but more woods.”
“Yep.”
“This is frustrating.”
“Yep.”
“Do you think our families have been notified?”
“Yep.”
She gritted her teeth and immediately stopped when she realized how bad her jaw hurt. “Can’t you say something besides yep?”
“Nope.”
He was one cantankerous man. “It’s just you and me out here. You could be a little more cordial.”
“This isn’t a party.” He turned his head and she looked into his dark, dark eyes. It was like staring into the darkest of nights and seeing nothing, but feeling the power all around her. Fear. Frustration. Warmth.
She had to search deep to find the warmth, but it was there. And if she looked long enough she felt she’d find that Ethan James was a soft cuddly puppy inside—all warm and loving. A side this hard-nosed cop never showed to anyone.
“Some woman really did a number on you.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words out loud until she heard them coming out of her mouth.
“Yep.”
She laughed and it startled her. She didn’t think she had any laughter left in her.
His eyes narrowed. “You find that funny?”
“Yep,” she replied in his stern, husky voice.
The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, but she saw it.
“You know you’re not the only one who has had their heart stomped on.”
“Listen, lady...”
“You keep calling me lady even though I’ve asked you not to. Somehow you feel if you say my name it makes our relationship personal. Let me tell you something, we’ve been through a bank robbery and barely escaped with our lives. That’s personal and frightening and anything else you want to tag on to it, but if you think I’m going to fall madly in love with you because of it, you better think again, Mr. Hard As Nails. I’ve had one jerkface in my life and I’m not looking for another.”
“Are you through?”
“No. If you keep yepping me, I’m gonna yep you right back.”
He stared at her and she stared back. “I can’t imagine anyone taking advantage of you, with your fiery tongue.”
“I was very naive back then. Did your mother ever read fairy tales to you?”
“What?”
“Fairy tales. Cinderella? Sleeping Beauty?”
“Hell, no.”
“You’re lying, Ethan James.”
“Well, yeah, she read me stories like Cowboy Billy and horse ones. I didn’t pay attention to the others.”
“I did. I dreamed of one day finding my prince. He’d be handsome, charming, compassionate, have a great sense of humor and high values and morals. We’d fall madly in love, get married and live happily ever after on Fairy Tale Lane.” She stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag. “I can’t believe I was that stupid but, sadly, I was a clone of millions of women looking for a prince and ending up with a big toad.”
“He cheated on you?”
“Yeah, but not with his heart. Only his body.”
“That’s an old line.”
“Oh, Doug has hundreds.”
“How did you find out?”
“Quite unexpectedly. Since Doug is an executive in his dad’s banking empire, he travels a lot. He’d returned from a four-day weekend in Florida and he was exhausted. He said it was business meeting after business meeting. The next day I was scrapbooking some of Chloe’s baby pictures into an album and I ran out of paper. I went online to order it because I knew they didn’t have it at the store. I’d already looked.”
She lifted her wet hair from her hot neck and prayed for a breeze to cool the heated emotions churning in her. But the air was still and blistering in the woods.
“I had two emails from someone I didn’t know, and usually I would just delete them, but for some reason I opened the first one and received the shock of my life. It was a video of my husband and a woman who works in his office. They were naked and having sex. I sat in a stupor and opened the other one, which was more of the same. I downloaded it to a flash drive and my phone. I then packed my clothes and Chloe’s and left. I drove to the bank and withdrew a large sum of money from our checking account. My dad is also in banking so I went to his bank and asked him to deposit the money in his name so the Baumans couldn’t touch it.”
She drew a long breath. “I left Chloe with Dad and went back to the Bauman bank. I delivered the flash drive to Doug, told him my lawyer would be in touch and not to call me or try to get in touch.”
“Your marriage was over just like that?”
“No. It was a god-awful year before it was over. The judge ordered counseling and the Baumans got involved, begging me to forgive Doug’s one-time lapse. They wanted me to think of Chloe and how much Doug loved us.”
“You didn’t bend under the pressure?”
“No. The moment I saw Doug on my computer screen with that woman, he killed whatever love I had for him.”
“People do make mistakes. Maybe he regrets his lapse.”
She studied the strong lines of his face. “Are you kidding me?”
“You loved him until you saw the video. Anger has just clouded your feelings.”
She scooted to her knees beside him. “So, cheating is just something men do. It’s part of their nature. Women should overlook it. The poor soul couldn’t help himself.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, I think you did, Mr. Everything Goes Tom Cat.”
“Listen, lady...”
“Abby.”
“Could you please shut up? We need to conserve our energy.”
“Fine.” She scooted back against the tree. “I don’t want to talk to someone like you, anyway.”
Nothing was a said for a few minutes. Abby wasn’t so hot or tired anymore. She was just mad at his pompous attitude. She didn’t end her marriage because she was hurt. Their marriage vows had been irrevocably broken. She could never trust Doug again and without trust they had nothing.
Then it hit her. She turned to look at the stoic macho male beside her. “You cheated on your wife, didn’t you?”
“I’ve never been married,” he said without even looking at her. “But I have a kid.”
“Oh.” All types of scenarios whizzed through her head.
“I thought you were going to be quiet.”
“I lied,” she replied tongue-in-cheek. “Women do that. It’s in our nature.”
“I know.”
The way he said that gave her pause. Those two words echoed with a lot of hurt and pain. “Who lied to you?”
He turned to her, his eyes fever-dark and she felt dizzy at all the emotions she saw there. “Abby...”
“Yes, Abby. That’s not so hard, is it?”
“I liked it better when you were mad at me.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “That can change at any minute.”
“Yep.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Don’t start that.” She stood on her knees again and leaned back on her heels. “Tell me about the woman who lied to you.”
* * *
ETHAN WOULD HAVE sworn on a stack of Bibles that he would never talk about his past, especially to the most aggravating woman in the world, but before he knew it, words tumbled from his mouth.
“I was in the Marines and home on leave. When I returned to the San Diego base, I still had a couple of days left before reporting for duty. My buddy and I decided to have a fun weekend before shipping out to Afghanistan. We hooked up with two girls in a bar. Unfortunately, my date was Sheryl Winger. Two months later I got a letter from her. I don’t know how she got my address, but she did. She was pregnant and wanted money. What she really wanted was to have my check mailed to her. That didn’t fly. I did send her money and told her I would take care of the baby.”
“She gave you the child?”
“Not exactly. I sent her money for three months and then I got a letter saying she’d made a mistake. The baby wasn’t mine. I was happy to be off the hook and swam away without giving it another thought. I told my commander about it though and he said it was a scheme to get my check. There really wasn’t a baby.”
“But there was?”
“Oh, yeah. About ten years later I heard from her again. She wanted ten years of child support. I wanted a DNA test.”
“The child was yours?”
“Yep. By then I’d hired a killer attorney and Sheryl received no money and I got full custody of Kelsey. Except Sheryl disappeared with Kelsey. When she knew the cops were closing in, she dumped Kelsey on my doorstep with one suitcase. In front of Kelsey, she said I could have the smart-mouthed kid.”
“How awful.”
“I did a background check on Sheryl and she’d used Kelsey in several attempts to extort money from marines. Kelsey stayed with Sheryl’s mother until she passed away. Kelsey was nine then. The kid has had it pretty rough and is filled with so much anger. I’m not sure I did her any favors by fighting for her.” He got to his feet. “We have to move on.”
“Ethan, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Everybody is. Let’s go.” He was tired of talking. It served no purpose but to dredge up his own anger.
She fell into step beside him. “I understand your attitude toward women a little better.”
“I don’t need you to understand me. I need you to follow orders so we can find our way back to our families. Do you think you can handle that?”
He walked off, leaving her with her mouth gaping open. But he didn’t care. If not for her, he would be home with his daughter.
Then Abby Bauman would be dead.
The thought splintered through his hard demeanor and shook his resolve. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He wasn’t sure why that was so important. For now, though, they had to work together to survive.
* * *
EVERETT MADE PEANUT BUTTER and jelly sandwiches for lunch. It was Chloe’s favorite. Gayle cut up fruit, even though he hadn’t asked her to. They hadn’t spoken since the morning, and she never did go shopping. All he could think about was his daughter. He and Gayle would talk later.
“Time for a nap, sweetiepie.”
Chloe rubbed her eyes. “You have to read to me, Grandpa. Mommy does.”
“Okay. Let’s get one of your books.” He carried her into the den and rummaged through the bag Abby had left. A Disney Princess book was on top. Abby and her prince books. She’d always loved them. He often wished he’d talked to his daughter more about the real world. But she had a good head on her shoulders, and he knew she’d choose a husband wisely. He thought she had until Doug showed his true colors.
He cradled Chloe close and opened the book, but his granddaughter was already asleep. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her down the hall to a guest bedroom and placed her on the bed with Baby in her arms. He laid an afghan over her. The air-conditioning was chilly.
“Shouldn’t you put some pillows around her?” Gayle asked from the doorway. “She might roll off the bed.”
“I can take care of my granddaughter,” he replied shortly and walked past her.
“Why are you so mean to me?” She followed him.
He turned to face her. “Gayle, I’m worried out of my mind about Abby and I’m not in a mood to argue with you.”
“Everett.” She stroked his arm. “I’m worried about her, too. I’m sorry if I sounded crass earlier.”
Before he could respond, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”
Doug stood on the doorstep in white shorts and a yellow-and-white golf shirt. He removed his sunglasses, hooked them on the front of his shirt and stepped inside. “Hi, Everett. I’m here to pick up Chloe.” From his sunny attitude Everett knew he hadn’t heard about Abby. And why hadn’t he? It was on the news, the internet, everywhere.
“What makes you think Chloe is here?”
“Abby always brings her to you.”
“When you pull a no-show.”
“I had a meeting. I told Abby that.”
“Yes. At seven-fifteen this morning. The exact time you were to pick up Chloe. I’ve been a banker for a lot of years and if you had a meeting this morning, on a Saturday, you knew about it yesterday or the day before.”
“Damn it, Everett. If she would take the damn settlement, she wouldn’t have to work. If she would forgive me, we could be a family again. I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face and I’m in counseling, but Abby refuses to give me a second chance.”
“So you use manipulative tricks to bend her to your will.”
Doug frowned. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Where’s my daughter?”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“What?”
“Abby’s bank was robbed this morning.”
“What?”
“The bank was robbed. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.”
“I haven’t.” His cool facade slipped a little. “So Abby’s here, too? Is she resting?”
“Doug, Abby was taken as a hostage.”
“What?” Color drained from Doug’s suntanned face.
“The police have identified a white van that was used in the robbery. It belongs to a Calvin Williams of Austin. He said he loaned it to his son, Devon. The van was located in Houston, but there’s been no sign of the robbers or Abby.”
“Oh, my God.” Doug ran his hands through his hair. “Have you told Chloe?”
“Of course not. She’s too little to understand.”
“She needs to be with me. Where is she?”
“You’re not taking her. Abby’s last words were for me not to let you have her.”
“That’s insane. I’m her father.”
“Still, she stays here until Abby returns.”
“You’re crazy, Everett. I’m taking my daughter.” Doug pushed past him and headed for the hall doorway.
Gayle stood there with one of his golf irons in her hands. “You better leave, Doug, unless you want a really bad headache.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Try me.”
“Fine.” He held up his hands. “I’ll be back with a policeman and you’ll have to give her to me.” He turned on his heel and slammed out the front door.
Everett eased into his chair, his breathing shallow. “Call Holly and have her come get Chloe.”
“Why?”
“I think I’m having a heart attack.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ABBY COULDN’T GO ON. Her sweaty clothes clung to her body. Her muscles ached and her skin felt on fire. Dragging hot air into her weak lungs made her dizzy. She sank to her knees.
“E-than” came out as a croak.
He swung around. “Hey, you okay?”
“I have to rest a couple of minutes.” She crawled through the leaves and dirt to a tree and leaned against it, praying for a breeze, something to grant a reprieve from the god-awful heat.
“Sure. I’m just going to check things out.”
Check things out? Was he nuts? It was trees and more trees, bushes, dirt, leaves and brittle dried grass. The scenery was monotonous and boring. And deadly. The word shot across her brain with chilling foreboding. She scooted up closer to the tree, the bark cutting into her back. She would not give up this easily.
Ethan was some distance away, gazing at the dried grass, and then he glanced toward the sky. What was he doing? Evidently searching for the van tracks. But what was in the sky? He suddenly strolled toward her with long strides. He didn’t even seem tired. Whatever exercise program he was on, it worked. His clothes and hair were also sweaty, but he wasn’t gasping for breath. The man had stamina. He was probably one of those guys who could make love all night long.
Now, where had that thought come from? Obviously she was losing it.
He plopped down by her. “Better?”
“No. I’m thirsty and tired.” She turned her head to stare at him. His dark hair was plastered to his head like a wet cap. A complacent expression etched across the rawboned lines of his face. “Why aren’t you tired?”
“I am. I just don’t whine about it.”
“If I had any strength, I’d smack you.”
“Save all that indignation for walking.”
“Okay, Ethan James.”
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“How?”
“Condescending.”
“Then don’t be rude to me.”
He groaned and pushed up against the tree. “Could you please be quiet for a few minutes?”
“If you ask nicely.”
“Whatever.” He leaned back his head and closed his eyes.
With his features relaxed, he was actually quite handsome. Sort of had a Noah Wyle from Falling Skies appeal. And she had to stop thinking about him. She turned her thoughts to her dad and Chloe. Hopefully, her dad was coping. Under stress, his blood pressure tended to shoot through the roof. But Gayle would be there to keep a close eye on him.
Had they told Chloe? She’d just turned three and she would be asking for her mommy. Her stomach cramped at the thought of her baby’s distress. Don’t worry, Chloe. Mommy will come home.
Doug was probably there by now and had whisked their daughter away. She hoped he used some discretion if he told her about the bank robbery. Chloe was his daughter and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She had to keep telling herself that.
She lifted her foot to look at her shoes. Her Manolo Blahniks were coated with dirt and ruined.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Looking at my last big expense before the divorce.”
He leaned forward. “I never understood women’s obsession with shoes.”
She stared directly at him. “And I’ll never understand a man’s obsession with his truck.”
He frowned. “That’s different. I use my truck for transportation.”
“These shoes were made for walking.” She lifted her shoe higher. “And that’s what I do in them.”
“It’s not the same thing,” he stressed. “That’s like comparing apples to oranges.”
“No. It’s like comparing a Granny Smith apple to a Red Delicious. And in case you’re wondering I’m Red Delicious and you’re a tart Granny Smith.”
He just stared at her with an irritated expression.
“Okay.” She turned to face him. “How do you feel when you get in that big ol’ truck?”
“What?” His irritation intensified.
“You probably feel in control. Confident. As if you can take on the world.”
“I think the heat’s getting to you.”
She ignored the snide remark. “When I put on these shoes—” she lifted one so he could see the classy, if dirty, little bow “—I feel pretty. Confident. And ready to take on the world.” She paused. “See? Same thing.”
He shook his head. “Does anyone ever get anything past you?”
“No. So stop trying.” She relaxed against the tree feeling as if she’d scored a point with the hard-nosed cop. Neither said anything for the next few minutes. The woods were quiet. An occasional rustling but nothing else.
“What time do you think it is?” she asked.
He raised his left wrist. “Damn. I can’t believe I didn’t put my watch on this morning. It’s the first thing I do after my shower, but I was in a rush to get home. I gathered up my things and put them in the console of my truck.”
“Do you usually work nights?”
“No. My partner and I are working on a murder case and keeping an eye on a person of interest.”
“Who keeps your daughter?”
“My dad, and he’s not the most patient person. I promised Kelsey we’d spend the day together.”
Guilt weighed on her conscience. “Once she finds out what happened I’m sure she will understand.”
“No, she won’t.” He locked his arms around his knees. “She has a chip on her shoulder about the size of the Alamo. It will be just one more time an adult has let her down.”
“I’m sorry, Ethan.”
“Yeah, well, let’s get some rest.” He shrugged off her apology as if it meant nothing, and it probably didn’t. “I’m guessing it’s about four o’clock, the hottest part of the day. We’ll stay here for a while and then trek on.”
“What were you checking out earlier?”
“I lost the tire tracks. I don’t know if they turned right or left or drove straight ahead. It’s as if the tracks disappeared into thin air.”
“Why were you looking at the sky?”
“I was checking for power lines.”
“And?”
“There are none. Fences either.”
“And that means?”
“I’m guessing this land is part of a big ranch and this section is leased for deer hunting. Since the cabin’s in disrepair and hasn’t been used for a while, my thought is that it’s up for sale.”
“But wouldn’t they need electricity?”
“Some guys like to rough it, but if we keep walking we’ll reach power lines and water.”
“I’d kill for a glass of water.”
He leaned back against the tree. “Rest. We’ll start walking when it’s cooler.”
She stretched out her legs and drifted into sleep. When she awoke, her head was on his thigh. She sat up and rolled her head from side to side, feeling a little better. The heat wasn’t so intense, but the need for water hadn’t left her.
Sweat trickled from Ethan’s hair down the side of his strong face. She was mesmerized by it.
“What would you do if I sucked the sweat off your face?”
With a gleam in his eye, he replied, “Depends how you do it.”
Staring into the warmth of his eyes, she felt a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. It had to do with hormones, chemistry and a titillating attraction between a man and a woman. It was wrong, wrong. Denying that didn’t change a thing.
She’d fallen for her rescuer.
* * *
EVERETT FELT LIKE a fool. He’d had another anxiety attack brought on by stress. His blood pressure was extremely high, too. A bad combination. The doctor had said he could have a stroke if he didn’t reduce the stress in his life. He’d gotten some medication to help, but nothing was going to help until Abby was returned safely.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the den he could see Chloe and Holly playing in the pool. His granddaughter was happy for now, but soon she would be asking for her mother.
“Everett, why don’t you lie down for a while,” Gayle said behind him. “I’ll wake you if the police call.”
“I’d rather sit in my chair. Chloe will be in soon and I don’t want her to think I’m sick.”
“Okay. I’m not going to argue with you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll get you some iced tea.”
“Thank you.”
Gayle was being calm and rational, and that’s what he needed right now. He hated to think he was so weak he would collapse if something happened to Abby. Something had happened to his daughter and he was falling apart. That wasn’t easy to admit. He was an indoor, quiet guy, a retired banker. He was good at numbers. He often wished he was a rough and tough outdoorsman, but that just wasn’t his personality.
As Gayle handed him a glass of tea, the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Doug,” she said. “Please remain calm.”
“I will.” Taking a sip, he set the glass on a coaster. He knew the dangers and he wasn’t risking his health. He had to stay strong for Abby and Chloe.
Doug and a policeman followed Gayle into the den. Doug’s eyes went to the windows and Chloe and Holly playing in the pool.
“What’s Holly doing here?” Doug demanded.
Gayle bristled. “I didn’t realize we needed your permission to invite people over.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Holly hates me and fills Chloe’s head with nonsense.”
“They’re playing, Doug,” Gayle told him. “So relax.”
Doug moved toward Everett. “I’m here for Chloe.”
“I know,” he replied. “She’s swimming as you can see. I had no right to try to keep you from your daughter.” Those were the hardest words he’d ever had to say and it was killing him to let go of his link to Abby.
“I’m glad you see that. I’ll get her.”
“If that’s all you need, I’ll be on my way,” the policeman said.
“Yes, yes, and thank you.” Doug headed for the pool.
“I’m surprised at you, Doug.” Gayle crossed her arms over her breasts.
Doug swung back. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought you’d be more concerned about Abby.”
“I am. I’m worried out of my mind.”
“No. I meant when they find her. She’s going to need love, support and a shoulder to lean on. I’d assumed you’d want to be that person. But Everett and I are more than happy to be there for Abby. Under the circumstances, it’s probably best, too.”
By Doug’s stunned expression, Everett could almost read his thoughts. This was his opportunity to be there for Abby. To prove how much he loved her. Everett shook his head in disgust.
“You’re right, Gayle,” Doug said. “I’ve been so worried I hadn’t thought about Abby needing me.”
“You seem to forget about Abby a lot.”
Before Doug could respond, Chloe ran in from the sunroom. She climbed into Everett’s lap. “Did you see me swimming, Grandpa?”
“Yes, I did.” He stroked wet curls from her face. “You swim like a fish.”
“That’s what Holly said.”
Holly walked in with an oversize towel wrapped around her waist. Her eyes zeroed in on Doug. “I didn’t know rats came out of the sewer at this time of day.”
“Your daddy is here,” Everett said quickly before heated words could start.
“Hi, Daddy.” Chloe raised a hand, but she made no move to go to him.
Doug squatted by Everett’s chair. “Do you want to go to Daddy’s house?”
Chloe shook her head. “I have to stay with Grandpa. Mommy’s coming to get me.”
“Okay, sweetie.” Doug leaned over and kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Daddy has a lot to do, but I’ll come back for you.”
“No, Daddy. Mommy’s coming.” Chloe’s little face scrunched up in worry. Even at three she sensed something was not right.
“C’mon, cutie,” Holly said. “Time to get dressed.”
Chloe gave Doug a hug and ran after Holly.
Doug left without another word.
Everett looked at his wife. “I knew you were crafty, but you’ve taken devious to a new level. Doug didn’t even catch on.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t want Chloe to leave and I figured out a way to accomplish that.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“I know, honey. I said things this morning I didn’t mean.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Did you mean it when you said we’d take care of Abby?”
“Yes. I’m not the motherly type, but I will try.”
“Don’t try, Gayle. Let it happen naturally.”
She kissed his forehead. “I’ll make us a nice dinner.”
“Chloe—and Holly, too?”
“Of course.”
His cell buzzed and he quickly pulled it out of his trousers. “Hello.”
“Mr. Baines, this is Detective Logan.”
“Yes, I know. Have you found my daughter?”
“Sorry, Mr. Baines, no. But a SWAT team and the feds have arrested Devon Williams at his girlfriend’s.”
“And Abby wasn’t with him?”
“No. He said the van broke down and he left it on the side of the highway in Houston. He called his girlfriend and she picked him up and they traveled to her apartment in south Houston. The girlfriend verified his story. He said he doesn’t know anything about a bank robbery.”
“You believe this?”
“Not for a minute. He’s being transported back here and I’ll get a crack at him. I’ll stay in touch.”
“Thank you.”
Everett stared at his phone and suddenly threw it across the room. It landed with a soft thud on the large Oriental rug.
“Everett!”
He told Gayle what the detective had said. “My daughter is probably lying dead in a field somewhere, and he just didn’t want to tell me.”
“No. No. Don’t say that.” Gayle wrapped her arms around him. “We’re staying positive. Do you hear me?”
“I think I will lie down.”
“No.” She kissed his face. “I’ll get the checkerboard out and you can play checkers with Chloe. She loves it.”
“But you hate it when we make a mess.”
“I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around him again and he held on tight. “Abby will come home, Everett. We have to believe that.”
And he did.
* * *
WITH EACH STEP, Ethan cursed himself. One look from her sleepy blue eyes and he’d let his guard down—allowed himself to wonder what it would feel like to have her lips on his skin. He’d come to his senses quickly, telling her they had to keep moving. She’d seemed startled, but complied. Concerning Abby Bauman, he had one goal—to return her safely to her family. That was it. No hanky-panky.
“E-e...”
He swung around to see Abby crumpled to the ground. He fell down beside her and lifted her upper body onto his thigh. “Abby!”
She’d passed out from the heat, and her breathing was shallow. Balancing her on his leg, he whipped his T-shirt over his head and wiped her face with it, running it around her neck trying to cool her.
“That feels good,” she murmured, opening her eyes. Lightly touching his chest, she added, “That feels even better.”
He slowly removed her hand from his hot skin, even though he had the urge to press it closer.
“What happened?”
“You fainted.”
“Oh. I’m so hot.” She moved restlessly. “I’m sticky and miserable.”
“Maybe take off your bra. It’s restrictive and might rub blisters.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, you want to get me out of my bra?”
“This isn’t personal.” He had to make that clear.
“Oh, no, we don’t want to get personal. That could get messy, messy...” Her head tilted against his chest.
“Abby, stay awake.” He rubbed her face and neck again and she stirred. “Is it a front or back hook?”
“F-ront.”
He slid his hand under her top and unhooked her bra, touching unbelievably smooth, soft skin.
“You did that rather easily,” she said, watching him.
“It’s in my repertoire of skills.”
“I bet.”
“Can you get it off? Or do you need me to help?”
“I can do it.”
Some of her stubbornness was back. She pulled her arms through the sleeveless top and finagled a strap over her arm and then another. Removing it, she threw the lacy beige bra into the leaves. Then she jammed her arms back into the openings.
They both stared at the lacy bra. “Can you imagine the conversation when someone finds that?” she asked.
“Only nocturnal creatures will find it, or birds will use it to make nests.” He looked down at her. “Ready to continue on?”
She reached up and touched his face. He froze. There was that thing again between them. He kept pushing it away and it kept coming back. Describing it was difficult. Attraction? Sexual awareness? Or gratitude?
He was well aware of all three, but their connection hinged on gratitude. He was positive of that.
A snort and a thrashing rumbled through the trees. Before Ethan could move, a big buck came charging out, leaped over them and disappeared just as quickly.
“What was that?” Abby sat up.
“A deer and I’m betting he’s headed for water. We have to follow.”
“Oh, water. Do you think it’s close?”
“We have to go to find out. Can you stand?”
She pushed to her feet and he slipped into his sweaty T-shirt. With his arm around her waist to steady her, they started off. She didn’t stumble or complain so he kept them moving. They stopped as the trees meandered down into a small overgrown valley. In the middle sat an old shack.
“There has to be a creek running by it. Let’s go.” He started off, but she stayed at the top. Glancing back, he called, “C’mon. What are you waiting for?”
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ethan. I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
What? She was delirious. That was the only answer.
“That’s crazy,” he said before he could stop himself. “C’mon.”
She walked toward him and against every sane objection in his head a delusional thought slipped through. He’d been waiting for her, too.
The heat had finally gotten to him. He was a hard-nosed, badass cop and he was well insulated from silly, romantic nonsense.
Until Abby Bauman.
CHAPTER FIVE
WALT PLACED A glass of iced tea in front of his friend Henry Coyote, Levi’s grandfather. Even though Henry was older by seven years, they were best friends. They were hardworking, hard cussing cowboys who were born and raised in Willow Creek, Texas. Henry had started a family early, while Walt had been thirty-five when Ethan was born. Henry’s son had been killed in a car accident and the son’s wife had moved to Austin with Levi and his sister. But Levi had returned every chance he got and lived here now. Like Ethan, Levi never strayed far from his roots.
Walt and Henry argued like two-bit lawyers and fought like bobcats. That is, they had in their younger days. They’d been there for each other through the bad times, the deaths of both their wives and the death of Henry’s son.
“Sure you don’t want to go to the Rusty Spur, drink some beer and play dominoes?” Henry asked.
“Nope. Not going anywhere until my boy comes home.”
“Levi is on the case and there ain’t nobody better at catching crooks than Levi.”
“Except Ethan.”
“Ah, shit...let’s don’t have this argument again.”
“Then don’t say your grandson is better than my son. And I told you not to cuss in my house.”
Henry shook his gray head. “You’re getting strange, Walt.”
“And you’re a baboon.”
“Stop using them stupid words you made up. If you mean bastard, say bastard.”
“You’re a hairy baboon with no manners.”
Henry slapped the table with one of his big paws. “That’s it. I’m going to the Rusty Spur to drink beer, play dominoes and cuss. Real cuss words that’ll burn your ears. Not some stupid ones I made up.”
“You better go then.”
“I’m going.” Henry shoved his worn hat onto his head and got to his feet. “I don’t understand why not cussing is so important to you.”
“Because Ethan asked me not to. He wants to have a good environment for his daughter.”
Henry leaned in and whispered, “She’s twelve. I know she’s heard cuss words.”
“It’s what Ethan wants and I’m doing it.”
“Well, don’t call me a baboon. That’s insulting. If you can’t say bastard, just call me Henry.”
“Goodbye, Henry.”
His friend tapped the table with his arthritic knuckles as if to make a point. “I’m sorry about Ethan.”
“I know.”
Henry ambled to the door and Walt took the glasses to the sink. Henry’s head was as hard as Walt’s, but they understood each other most of the time. If Henry thought not cussing was easy for him, then he’d better think again. Walt’s tongue was about to fall out of his mouth from sheer lack of use.
“Hey.”
Walt turned to see Kelsey standing there. As always, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. His last good nerve snapped at the word hey. He pointed to a chair. “Sit down.”
She scurried to a chair and he sat facing her. “Let’s get something straight. Whether you like it or not, I’m your grandpa. You can call me Grandpa, Gramps, Pop or whatever you’re comfortable with, but you will not call me Hey. It’s disrespectful. You got it?”
She raised her head and looked at him, something she rarely did. Long black hair partially covered her face, but Ethan’s brown eyes stared back at him. “Yeah, but you will not call me girl, gal or alien. You will call me Kel or Kelsey.”
Damn! She’d heard him say that. His gut knotted tight with guilt.
“Deal.” He extended his hand across the table. It took a moment, but she finally shook it. “I apologize for calling you an alien. That was out of line. I give you my word as your grandfather I will never do that again.”
“Deal.” She nodded. “Did they find Ethan?”
“No. They arrested one of the robbers and they’re questioning him now. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Okay.” She stood and twisted on her flip-flops. “Can I have some ice cream?”
“Kelsey, this is your home now, and you can have any food we have.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know. My grandma didn’t have a home and we lived with her older sister. She didn’t like me eating her food. When my grandma died, my mom and me lived in motels or rented rooms.”
Lordy, Lordy. What a life for a young girl—his granddaughter. A load of guilt hit him right between the eyes as powerful as a butt of a Colt .45. For Ethan’s daughter, he had to do better.
“You have a home now and can eat whatever you want.”
She opened the freezer, took out an ice-cream bar, and ran to her room.
Walt went out onto the deck and sank into a chair. Rowdy lay at his feet. He gazed past the chain-link fence to his pastureland. Cows lay in the shade of several big live oak trees out of the stifling heat. He’d check the water troughs later to make sure they had enough to drink. In this heat, they needed constant water. Wherever Ethan was, he prayed he wasn’t in the heat.
Walt leaned forward, bowed his head, and clasped his hands together. “Lord, I’ve been talking to You a lot in the past few hours and You might find that strange since I haven’t talked to You in years. Maureen, my wife, was a religious woman, and she talked to You daily. I figured that pretty much covered the bases for me. But there comes a time in a man’s life when he has to confront his maker alone. For me, that’s today. My boy’s been taken by some thugs. You probably know that, right? He’s a good man. You know that, too. He has a twelve-year-old daughter who needs him. I don’t know a thing about little girls, but I’ll do my best until You return Ethan to us. That’s all I’m asking, Lord. Watch over Ethan. Kelsey needs him. I need him, too. Thanks for listening.”
He got up and went back into the house with a purpose—to forge a bond with his granddaughter. It didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. Inside she was a scared little girl needing a home, family and love. Wrestling a steer to the ground might be easier than reaching Kelsey. But grandpas didn’t give up. And that’s who he was—Grandpa.
* * *
THE LIGHT-HEADEDNESS CONTINUED and Abby floated in and out of the clouds. Ethan’s hand rested on her hip as they walked and she knew she was okay. Weird thoughts ran through her head. Had she told Ethan she’d been waiting for him all her life? No. She hadn’t said that out loud. She was almost positive. Besides, she’d only known him a few hours. But inside her heart was a certainty that their souls had connected.
Ethan stopped and she glanced up. They’d reached the small weatherworn wood cabin. There was nothing but dirt around it. What little grass had been there had died. It wasn’t as run-down as the other cabin, and a porch graced the front. She sank onto the stoop.
“Rest,” Ethan said. “I’ll check things out.”
She lay on the wood flooring, totally spent. Suddenly a slight breeze touched her skin. Opening her eyes, she sat up. The breeze continued. She pulled the wet blouse from her skin and fanned it. Heavenly. After a moment, her mind cleared.
“Ethan.”
He strolled from the side of the cabin. “What?”
“The wind.”
“Yeah. It’s picked up.” He glanced toward the sun. “It’s probably about seven o’clock and the sun is going down.”
“We get a break.”
“Yeah.” He eyed her. “Do you feel better?”
“Yes.” There was something different in his gaze. Was he worried about her? She cleared her dry throat. “Did you find anything?”
“There’s an old-timey well out back with a rope and a bucket. The bucket is cracked and the well handle’s rusted, but I’m hoping I can find something in the cabin to use for oil.”
She followed him inside. The flooring was sturdy and the roof hadn’t caved in like the other one. Bunk beds occupied two walls. Faded sheets were still on them. A small cabinet with a makeshift sink and window took up another wall. A refrigerator stood in a corner.
“Without electricity, how do they run a refrigerator?”
“They bring a generator.”
“Oh.”
Ethan opened drawers and cabinet doors. “Not much here. Must be why animals haven’t overrun this place.” He yanked wide the doors beneath the sink. “Wait. What’s this?” He pulled out a large plastic container. “Peanut oil. Not much left, but it should be enough.” He reached for something in the top cabinet. “This stoneware pitcher is heavy and has a handle. We might be able to use it for a bucket.”
She trailed behind him out the side door to the well. It looked like so many she’d seen in landscaped yards. Of course, this one was very rustic. But it had a roller bar across the top with a rope and a crank handle. The bucket lay on the ground, useless. The housing around the hole was made of wide, weatherworn boards. The opening was covered with a heavy-looking metal object.
Ethan took a small scrub brush from his pocket. She hadn’t even seen him remove it from the cabin. He poured peanut oil on it and began to scrub the rusty crank. The well was in the open and the sun showered them with waves of heat, but it wasn’t as intense. Sweat rolled from his face. He had to be exhausted, too, but he never stopped. She wanted to help him. Using her better judgment, though, she just watched, marveling at the muscles working in his arms and the total concentration on his face.
She could imagine him pursuing a killer with everything in him. She’d never been this impressed with anyone in her life. And she wasn’t delusional.
“Hot damn,” he shouted as the crank began to move. After more elbow grease it made a complete circle. Then another.
“It’s working,” she cried.
“All it took was a little muscle.”
“And you’ve got those.”
He gave her a dark-eyed glance.
“What?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a secret?”
“Stop distracting me.” He continued to work the crank.
“Oh, I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
He turned to face her. “One minute you’re half-conscious and the next you’re flirting.”
“I am not flirting,” she insisted.
“Whatever.” He went back to working on the well.
Maybe she was flirting, but he didn’t have to be so grouchy. And he wasn’t really as grouchy as he appeared. She knew that now. He was a nice guy with a big heart, which he kept hidden with his brusqueness. Ethan was one of the good guys. Even knowing that didn’t keep her from getting mad at him.
“Okay.” Ethan sank to the ground with the pitcher and the end of the rope. “The rope isn’t thick, so that’s good. The trick is to tie the rope to keep the pitcher from tilting. It has a narrow neck and a rounded bottom. If I tie to the handle, it will tilt. The best bet would be to use the narrow neck.”
He was talking to himself. She’d allow him that foible. After looping the rope around the neck, he tied a knot and then another.
“Is the rope strong?” she asked.
“I’m hoping. I pulled to test it and it didn’t break.” He placed the pitcher aside and got to his feet. “I have to remove the lid.”
“Can you? It looks heavy.”
With a wicked glint in his eyes, something she thought she would never see from him, he said, “That’s what these muscles are for.” And to dispel the notion that he might be flirting, he added, “Besides, I removed it earlier.”
He plucked off the heavy cover as if it weighed no more than a board. Placing it against the well housing, he stuck his head over the open hole and took a deep breath. “Ah, I smell water.”
“Water doesn’t smell.”
“Stick your nose over here, Ms. Doubtful.”
She leaned over and took a whiff. Her whole body vibrated with yearning. “Oh, oh, Ethan. There’s water. Hurry! We have to bring it up. I’m dying for a drink.”
“Patience.” He removed his shirt and attempted to wipe dust from the rope.
“Will that do any good? Your shirt is dirty and sweaty.”
“The well probably has bacteria in it anyway and cleaning the rope with a dirty shirt was the lesser of two evils I was thinking.”
“How will we know if it has bacteria?”
“When we get sick.”
“Oh, great.”
“But we don’t have much choice. Without water, we can’t survive in this heat.”
Abby licked her parched lips. “Let’s do it.”
Ethan laid his shirt on top of the cover and picked up the pitcher. With one hand he lowered it into the well hole and cranked it lower with the other hand. “Keep your fingers crossed the rope doesn’t break.”
Abby crossed her fingers, held her breath and watched the pitcher disappear into the dark hole.
“We’ve hit water,” Ethan said. “We’ll give it a minute to fill and then I’ll pull it up.”
Slowly he cranked the pitcher upward. “It’s heavier so it must be full.” When it reached the top, he reached out and grabbed the neck of the pitcher. Water spilled onto his hand. Her heart beat so fast she could barely breathe. He handed the pitcher to her and she took a sip and then a gulp.
He grabbed the pitcher. “Hey, go slow. You’ll make yourself sick.”
She sank to the ground. Even though she wanted to guzzle it, she sipped and sipped. Handing it to him, she sighed. “Heaven. Pure heaven.”
He eased down by her and sipped until the water was gone. “This is better than sex.”
“You think so?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “At this exact moment, yes.” He stood to refill the pitcher and she wondered about his sex life. Someone as virile as Ethan had to have a regular girlfriend. Or maybe not. Considering what had happened to him, he was probably very choosy about whom he slept with. And she had a feeling Ethan didn’t stay around for much sleeping.
He filled the pitcher three times. The third time they didn’t drink much. Ethan poured the last bit over his head. Water ran down his face and onto his chest. Droplets clung to swirls of dark chest hairs. Without thinking, without judging herself, she leaned over and licked the drops from his warm skin.
He stiffened. She didn’t stop.
She licked up his chest to his strong chin. His skin tasted of salt, sweat and granules of sand. But it wasn’t off-putting. Just the opposite. It was the most sensual experience her mouth had ever encountered. The tip of her tongue throbbed from the taste, texture and sensuality of him.
“Ab-by.”
Her lips touched his. He groaned, cupped her face and kissed her as she’d never been kissed before. His lips were strong, powerful and she didn’t weaken under the onslaught to her senses. She reveled in it, meeting his fervor with her own. She ran her hands along the strong muscles in his shoulders and neck.
The kiss went on and on. He held her head in place as he ravaged her lips and spiked her blood pressure. His thumbs stroked her jawline and she purred like a satisfied cat. The sound startled her until she realized it was her.
Slowly, he released her. “We have to stop this.”
“Yes,” she replied, but inside she was wanting much more.
“Look.” He waved a hand. “The sun has gone down.”
While they’d been otherwise engaged, it certainly had. A yellow glow invaded the woods.
“It will be completely dark soon, so we have to find a place to bed down.” He stood, placed his T-shirt over one shoulder and fitted the lid over the well. He placed the pitcher on top.
She followed him into the almost completely dark cabin. “My stomach is complaining and I’m starving.”
“It’s the cool water on an empty stomach. It’s reminding you of how empty it is. Try not to think about it.” Handing her his shirt, he tested one of the mattresses. “They seem okay. It’s better than sleeping on the ground.” He dragged one outside and placed it on the porch and then went back for another. He situated them about twelve feet apart, making it more than clear that kissing wasn’t happening again.
He plopped onto a mattress, removed his shoes, and stretched out. “Ah, this feels good. I can get a good night’s rest.”
“You’re kidding, right? Snakes could be inside the mattresses.”
“I’m exhausted and going to sleep. You can stand guard and watch out for snakes.”
“Ethan.”
“Mmm.”
“What do you want me to do with your shirt?”
“Lay it out on the floor to dry.”
“I’m not your maid.”
“Fine. Throw it to me.”
She aimed for his face and he caught it effortlessly. Darkness crept around them, hiding the dry, parched earth. The only illumination was the moon, which hung high in the sky like a huge night-light. She slid down to the mattress and tested it. Bouncy and soft. That was good.
Slipping off her shoes, she tried to relax. She was being testy for no reason. That was Ethan’s department, but his cavalier attitude about their out-of-this-world kiss annoyed her. He acted as if it was just another kiss. It wasn’t. Or was it? She drew a deep breath. Due to the circumstances, she was blowing this way out of proportion. And being a complete bitch, she couldn’t let it go.
“Are you seeing someone?”
After a long moment, he replied, “No.”
“I’m not either, if that matters.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I thought you might be feeling guilty.”
“I’m not. Now, go to sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Lie down and close your eyes. That’s what most people do.”
She thought of doing that, but her mind was filled with thoughts about the day, the heat, Ethan and the night. Not to mention her dad and Chloe. She hoped her dad wasn’t worried too much. How could he not be? His only child had been taken hostage in a bank robbery.
The warm wind brushed across her face, reminding her that she was alive. And soon her dad would know that, too. With water, there was no doubt they could make it to safety. She’d say goodbye to Ethan and they’d go their separate ways.
She touched her lips and remembered the kiss. Maybe she could say goodbye in another way. Did she have that much nerve?
“Ethan.”
CHAPTER SIX
ETHAN IGNORED THE soft voice that triggered emotions he’d rather not have. Shouldn’t have. But he had to admit for the first time in years his resistance to the opposite sex had reached an all-time low. Against his better judgment, he’d kissed her. And didn’t want to stop. She was as tempting as a drink of water from the pitcher and he couldn’t get enough.
After the comment about sucking the sweat from his chest, he couldn’t get that image out of his head. And he was a man who didn’t fantasize. Ever. Except in his teens and early twenties. And occasionally since then. Okay, he was lying to himself now. He didn’t want to be attracted to Abby. As a police officer, he considered her under his care and protection. It was hell having to remind himself of that.
“Ethan.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I’m worried about my little girl.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. Doesn’t your dad have her?”
“Doug probably has her by now. I don’t want him to tell her what happened. She’ll be scared.”
“He’s a father. He won’t do that.”
“I guess.” She jumped up at a chirping sound. “What’s that?”
“Crickets. They’re harmless.”
“I know, but they’re very loud.” She pulled the mattress closer to his. “It might be something else.”
“It isn’t. Lie down and go to sleep.”
She sat on the mattress, but didn’t lie on it. “Aren’t you worried about your daughter?”
He sighed. “What do you hear when I say go to sleep?”
“I’m sorry. I feel as if I’ve had a double espresso. I’m wired and restless. Could we talk for just a minute? It might help me to relax.”
“Why do women always want to talk?”
“Oh, I don’t know, why do men want to drink beer and watch sports?”
“So we don’t have to talk.”
“Too bad. We’re talking.”
He groaned, wondering if he was ever going to win with this woman. She should have been a lawyer.
“Is your daughter okay with your dad?”
He wasn’t going to answer. Putting his hands behind his head, he stared out at the dark sky. A wide swatch of black velvet with millions of twinkling rhinestones covered it, or so it seemed. The moon hung like a big spotlight enhancing the glow of the rhinestones. It was beautiful. Relaxing.
Before he knew it, he began to speak. “Kelsey’s...”
“What a pretty name.”
“I didn’t pick it.”
“Mmm. So she’s okay with your dad?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s complicated. Now...”
“No, I’m not going to sleep,” she snapped. “Tell me about your dad and your daughter.”
He turned to gaze at her through the darkness. “You can be annoying.”
“Do you want me to tell you what you’re like?”
“No. I know what I’m like.”
“Good. So continue.”
He stared at the starry rhinestones, wondering if he could bore her to sleep if he kept talking. He understood her anxieties. There were a lot of dangers out here, but he couldn’t dwell on that. They had to rest for the walk tomorrow.
“My dad is a country cowboy, born and raised in Willow Creek, Texas. He has a ranch and works the land like his father before him. He’s a simple man and not too knowledgeable about today’s teenagers. When my daughter arrived with her long dyed-black hair with a purple streak, black jeans and T-shirt, painted black nails and toenails with three earrings in each ear, it was a bit of a shock.”
“Oh, my.”
“The first thing he said was, ‘Son of a bitch, the aliens have landed.’”
“Oh, no.”
“I had to have a talk with him. His vocabulary is a bit colorful and I asked him to curb his swearing around Kelsey. I wanted to create a better environment for her.”
“Did he do it?”
“Oh, yeah. He made up new words to use. Instead of saying son of a bitch, he now says things like sunny beaches or son of a beady-eyed bitty or son of a dipstick or anything that comes to mind. For goddamn he says shazam. For shit he says shih tzu.”
“That’s a dog.”
“Yes, and bull shih tzu sounds even worse. As does baboon or buffoon for bastard.”
“What does he use for the f word?”
“He’s an old cowboy and doesn’t use that word.”
“That’s a relief.” He could almost see her smiling. “She’ll stay at his house until you return?”
“I live with my dad. I guess I didn’t make that clear.”
She laughed. A soft melodious sound that under other circumstances would have excited him. Now it irritated him.
“You find that funny?”
“Oh, yeah. Mr. Macho Cop living with his dad just doesn’t fit.”
“I’m macho enough to make it work.”
“I bet you are.” She laughed that sound again. “Have you always lived at home?”
“I had an apartment in Austin, but my mom died about five years ago and I started going out to the ranch more and more because I knew my dad was lonely. He’s getting older and I noticed how much he’s slowed down. On my days off, I started helping him on the ranch. When it was late, I’d stay the night. I was using my apartment very little so I decided to move home. When I found out about Kelsey, I was glad I had a real home for her.”
She jumped up again at a soft hoot. “Oh, oh, what’s that noise?”
“It’s an owl. Haven’t you been in the country before?”
“Once. When I was a Girl Scout. I think I was eight.” She pulled the mattress closer to his. He could reach out and touch her, which he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry about your situation, but I’m sure your dad and Kelsey will adjust, especially since they’re both worried about you.”
“Not likely. Kelsey tends to ignore us. She stays in her room watching vampire movies and only comes out to eat.”
“How sad.”
“She’d agreed to go horseback riding this morning. That’s why I was in a hurry to get home.”
“I’m so sorry for stopping on the highway like that. Everything was my fault.”
He sat up, feeling restless and edgy. “In life things happen, so don’t beat yourself up too much.” He didn’t know why he was letting her off so easily. Maybe because there was no way to change what happened. And Abby would, if she could.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
“Mmm. I’m not known for niceness.”
“How about with Kelsey?”
He wrapped his arms around his knees. “I’m trying, but at this late date I’m not sure if we can form a father-daughter connection. I’ve enrolled her in school, but I worry how she’ll fit in. Willow Creek is a country school with country kids who wear Wranglers and boots. Some wear the low-rider jeans and T-shirts, but none have a purple streak in their hair.”
“They wouldn’t dare make fun of Macho Cop’s kid.”
“Bullying has even made it into country schools, so I’m not taking anything for granted. We’re supposed to meet with the principal soon. Kelsey’s grades are awful, barely passing. It’s not that she’s slow or has a learning problem. She reads all the time. She’s been in fifteen different schools as she was shuffled back and forth from her grandmother to Sheryl. She hasn’t spent a whole year in any school. If I can’t give her anything else, I want to give her a stable home where she can have family and friends.”
The owl hooted through the trees, making them aware of where they were.
“Are you sure that’s an owl?” She pulled the mattress until it touched his.
“Positive. And does that make you feel safer?”
“Yes.”
He tightened his arms around his knees, marveling at how much he’d told her. He’d never opened up this much to any woman, including his mom. It had to be the night and the circumstances. Or it could be her. She was easy to talk to. Sometimes. Other times she drove him crazy. And he’d known her less than twenty-four hours.
“Since you have me wide-awake, tell me about your storybook life.” Did he just ask her to talk? They were never going to get any sleep. His macho demeanor didn’t work on her.
“Why do you think I’ve had a storybook life?”
“You have that Princess-Barbie-sorority-girl look that comes with wealth and privilege.”
“I resent that.” She came right back at him just as he knew she would.
“What was your life like, then?”
“Okay, maybe at first it was. My dad was president of a bank and we lived a good life. And, yes, they probably spoiled me.”
“Probably?”
“Shut up. I didn’t interrupt you.”
He held up his hands. “Okay. Okay.”
“My mom died in childbirth when I was ten. My baby brother died, too. She started hemorrhaging in her seventh month and the doctors couldn’t stop it. Dad and I were devastated. Mom was the foundation of our lives, and we didn’t know how to live without her. But eventually we had to start living again.”
“That couldn’t have been easy for a ten-year-old.”
“No, but time slowly coated the pain with lovely memories. It drew my dad and me closer. When I was fifteen, he started dating. That was a shock.” He could feel her moving restlessly. “The first time I met the woman I hated her. I thought she was after my dad’s money, but then I found out she had money from her wealthy first husband. So I told her she could never take my mother’s place and she would never be my mother.”
“Wow. You must have been a real bitch at fifteen.”
“I was hurt and I guess I thought if I hated her enough, he’d stop seeing her.”
“And he didn’t?”
“No. I apologized to both of them, but things never got better. When I moved into a dorm at the University of Texas, they got married and Gayle moved into our home. She slept in my mother’s bed. That drove me crazy.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It was my mom’s dream house. She designed it, decorated it. It was hers.”
“Did you get over that feeling?”
“Well, Dad finally sold the house and built Gayle her own home.”
“Because of your feelings.”
“Yes. I’m an awful person. Aren’t you glad you dragged that out of me?”
“Nope, but I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
“As a bitch?”
“Sort of.”
She leaped onto his mattresses and punched him in the shoulder. “Oh, crap, that’s like hitting a wall.” She rubbed her hand.
“Then don’t do it.”
“Then don’t call me a bitch.” She sank down by him, her hip touching his thigh, which was too close for his comfort. Way too close.
“I didn’t. You did,” he pointed out and knew he should move away. But he didn’t. “I hope things got better.”
“I grew up and realized Dad deserved a life of his own. I got caught up in college life, dated, met Doug, the man of my dreams, or so I thought. Gayle and I maintain an amicable truce. Chloe and I have dinner with them once a week and Dad keeps Chloe when I need someone. Like this morning.”
“Since you’re big on talking, have you tried it with Gayle?”
“Yes, but the battle lines were drawn with my teenage behavior and Gayle can’t seem to forget that. I hate that my dad gets caught in the middle. I’ve often thought of finding another sitter for Chloe, but Dad loves her and Chloe adores her grandpa.”
“How often do you go out?”
“Maybe once a month.”
“That shouldn’t be too much to ask.”
“I wish life wasn’t so complicated and tense. I wish we could live together as a happy, loving family. But the teenage jealous bitch in me destroyed that.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. Your problem with your stepmom is minor compared to what I see on a daily basis. Parents killing their children. Children murdering their parents in their sleep. For your dad, beg for your stepmom’s forgiveness. Beg until she caves and your problem is solved. Someone has to bend and since you started the battle, you have to. For your own sanity, make it work.” He stretched out. “Now I’m going to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long, hot day.”
He closed his eyes, but she didn’t move. In the few hours he’d known her she’d continued to surprise him. He hoped she wasn’t going to surprise him now.
* * *
ABBY LISTENED TO the chirps of crickets mingling with the hoots of the owl. The sounds of the night surrounded her and gave her courage. She’d wanted to do this earlier, but lost her nerve. There was something about the darkness that freed her inhibitions.
She was touched by his story and his determination to build a life with his daughter. He was different than any man she’d ever met. And she was attracted to him. Even after all they’d been through, she was very aware of him as a man.
“Ethan.”
“Go to sleep, Abby.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“No.”
“It’s personal for me, not you.”
“The answer is still no.”
“I’ll go to sleep if you answer.”
He groaned. “What is it?”
“Um...” Her courage faltered for a second. “Um...when we kissed, was my response cold?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“It’s a stupid question, and I’m not answering.”
She chewed on her lip trying to find the right words. “When I found out Doug was cheating and our marriage blew up, he blamed me. He said I was cold, unresponsive in bed and it was like making love to a mannequin.”
“You didn’t fall for that, did you?”
“Well...”
“He’s trying to make you feel guilty for his misdeeds.”
“I realized that, but there was a small part of me that felt it was true.”
“Why?”
“I was very naive. I had a couple of sexual experiences in college that weren’t satisfactory. Then I met Doug and he was nice, gentle and kind, and...”
“And what?”
She didn’t know if she could continue. She’d never told the intimate details of her marriage to anyone. Not even Holly. The darkness once again gave her courage.
“Sex wasn’t as I’d imagined between two people in love. I was usually glad when it was over. I kept telling myself it would get better after we were married. How stupid was that?”
He didn’t say anything. She should stop before she made a fool of herself, but somehow she couldn’t.
“Doug was my husband and I wanted to please him, but there was never an ‘Oh, my God’ moment for me. After Chloe was born, I lost all interest in sex. Chloe was a fussy baby and cried a lot. I was exhausted from taking care of her. Doug wanted to hire a nanny. I refused. That’s when our marriage really started to deteriorate. So you see, I’m partly to blame. I drove him to other women.”
“Did you try talking to him?”
“Yes. He said everything was fine. It wasn’t, though. I’m afraid I’m one of those women who don’t enjoy sex.”
Complete silence followed her declaration and from some secret place in her she found the nerve to continue. “I’m very aware of you as a man.”
“Don’t go there, Abby.”
“Why not? We’re both over twenty-one. Adults. Unattached. And free to do what we want. No strings. No attachment. Just sex.”
“I’m not having unprotected sex, especially under these circumstances.”
“I have a diaphragm.”
“It doesn’t matter. The only rise you’re getting out of me tonight is my temper. Please go back to your mattress and go to sleep.”
“Okay. Okay.” She crawled to her spot, feeling rejected and about as low as she could get. She couldn’t even seduce a man.
“When you get home, see a therapist and work through your issues about sex. Sometimes sex is more in the brain than in the genitals.”
“Gee, I should have that printed on a T-shirt.”
“Abby.” He sighed. “We’ve only known each other a few hours and most of that time we’ve been at each other’s throats. I’m not trying to hurt you. I just think it’s not wise for us to get emotionally involved.”
“You’re right,” she admitted grudgingly. “After everything we’ve been through, I fear I’m losing it.”
“You’re not. You’re just punch-drunk from exhaustion. Try to sleep. That will help.”
“I’m afraid to close my eyes. If I do, I’ll be back in the bank with that gun pressed against my temple, or lying against that log with bugs crawling over me waiting for the blast of a gun.”
“Close your eyes and you’ll simply go to sleep. You’re too tired to dream.”
His words were comforting. She lay back and felt miserable. “My clothes are filthy and sweaty and I’m dirty from head to toe. I can feel sand between my toes. I can’t sleep like this.”
“Just don’t think about it.”
She sat up. “I’ll wipe my body with my top. Maybe I’ll feel better.”
“Whatever. You don’t need to tell me what you’re doing.”
She pulled her damp top over her head and wiped her neck, breasts and arms. The wind touched her skin. “Ah, that feels good.”
“Mmm” was his sleepy reply.
A loud howl echoed in the distance.
“What’s that?” She leaped onto his mattress right on top of him, their arms and legs entangled.
“It’s a coyote. For heaven’s sakes, I know you’ve heard a coyote before.”
“On TV and in movies, but not this up close and personal.”
“He’s miles away and not a threat. I’m about to lose my patience, Abby.”
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