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“Mark! Mark, where are you?”

Heath heard the frantic edge in Rachel's voice. He peered through the branches and saw her across the street. She was walking down the sidewalk, searching, her steps filled with urgency.

“He's up here,” Heath shouted, knowing his voice would carry farther than the boy's.

“Heath?” Rachel sprinted across the street and stood directly below.

“She's going to be real mad,” Mark whispered.

“You want me to say something?” Heath asked.

Mark considered the offer, then shook his head. “I'll take my punishment like a man.” He lowered his voice as he said it and Heath grinned. He'd always liked Mark. It was the boy's mother who gave him problems.

“What are you two
doing
up there?” she demanded, staring up at them.

“What does it look like?” he called down, as though tree-climbing was how he generally spent his spare time.

“Mark?”

“It's my fault, Mom. I got stuck and Mr. Quantrill came up and got me.”

“Heath, you climbed up there to rescue Mark? You could have been hurt!” She sounded incredulous.

“Hey, I used to be quite good at this,” he said as he carefully approached the next limb. His shirt snagged on a small, sharp branch and he winced. He made it to the lowest branch, then lowered Mark to his mother's waiting arms. Taking a minute to catch his breath, he leaped down himself, landing in a crouch.

Mark stood in front of his mother, her hands on his shoulders. Brushing the dirt from his palms, Heath smiled. Damn, but it was good to see her again.

“Thanks, Mr. Quantrill,” Mark said, glancing shyly at Heath and then his mother.

Heath forced his eyes away from Rachel long enough to acknowledge the boy's gratitude. “No problem.”

“It won't happen again—right?” Rachel asked her son emphatically.

Mark shrugged. “I was looking for a place to build a clubhouse.”

“I had one as a kid,” Heath said.

“You did?”

If Heath had announced he'd walked on the moon, he couldn't have gotten a more profound look of awe from the boy.

“Run over to see Mrs. Betts,” Rachel told her son. “I need to talk to Mr. Quantrill.”

“Okay.” Eager to escape, the boy dashed off.

“You have something to say to me?” Heath asked, thinking he'd gladly climb trees—and suffer the resulting damage—if that was all it took to get Rachel's attention.

She nodded and crossed her arms. Eyes wide, she studied his disheveled hair, ripped shirt, ruined shoes. “Oh, no! Look at you…I'm so sorry. I—”

“Don't worry about it,” he said briskly. “Nothing serious. Now, what did you want to tell me?”

She bit her lip. “I haven't heard from you.”

“I've been busy….” He stopped himself from reminding her that she hadn't sought him out, either.

Rachel glanced down the street, then met his eyes. “Is it too late for us, Heath?”

He admired the way she got directly to the point.

“Because if it is,” she continued, “then I'd appreciate knowing now before I make an even bigger fool of myself over you.”

She'd
made a fool of herself? Somehow he'd missed that. As far as he could see, he was the one who came off like an idiot with his Neanderthal routine.

“It's Kate Butler, isn't it?”

“No.” All at once, the pretense he'd maintained for the past few weeks was too much. Taking hold of her shoulders, he stared at her intently. “Rachel, listen, I'm crazy about you. I have been for months. Almost a year. As long as I've known you, in fact. The day I ran into you at my grandmother's with Kate—”

“It doesn't matter, I—”

“It does matter. Kate and I were on our way to a meeting. I wanted you to think we were together, but nothing could be further from the truth. Kate…doesn't make me feel the things you do.”

A flash of surprise and joy came into her eyes.

“I know, I know,” he said and shook his head. “I've made a lot of mistakes this last year, but I'm changing that.”

“Changing…”

“I've never had to win a woman's heart before,” he said simply. He suspected it would sound like boasting if he told her women had always pursued him rather than the reverse. But it was the truth.

“Don't you know…didn't the night of Bob and Merrily's wedding tell you anything?” she asked.

“I'm not sure…Maybe. Yes,” he amended. “Just let me finish, all right?”

She nodded, frowning a little.

“Like I said, this romance thing is new to me and I'm finding out that I'm not especially good at it.” The admission didn't come easily, but since he'd come this far, he might as well go for broke. “I'll say it again—I'm crazy about you. And Mark. He's a great kid.” He paused. “Think about it. You and I have a lot in common. You lost your husband; I've lost most of my family. We share the same values. You're a wonderful woman, Rachel, and I admire you and I'm attracted to you and…and that's it.”

She continued to frown, as if she didn't understand. “I don't mean to be presumptuous, Heath, but this is beginning to sound like a marriage proposal.”

Marriage wasn't something a man took lightly. “Perhaps it is,” he said. “Perhaps it is.”

I
t seemed that every time something good happened in Bob's life, he got kicked in the teeth right afterward. He'd won 3 OF A KIND in a poker game, invested all his money in updating the place—and then discovered the town was dying. He'd fallen in love with Merrily Benson—but she kept disappearing.

Now Merrily was his wife and included in the deal was two-year-old Axel. The child had burrowed his way deep into Buffalo Bob's heart. For all intents and purposes, Bob was Axel's daddy now, and he loved the kid so much he'd do almost anything to keep him. Anything short of seeing Merrily hauled off to prison. The possibility of that seemed very real at the moment.

Bob sat in his office with the door closed and the mail spread across his desk. One envelope had his name typed on it, but no return address. The postmark showed Fargo.

It'd come from Darryl, the man he'd paid fifteen hundred dollars to forge Axel's birth certificate. Inside was a flyer, the kind dispensed through the Foundation for Missing Children. This particular flyer was of personal interest. There was a photo of Axel, with his name printed beneath—Axel Williamson—and the message HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD? The Los Angeles authorities were looking for him. Merrily had never mentioned his last name before…but everything fit. The photo, the place and date of birth, the fact that the child was called Axel—not the most common name for a little boy. Bob didn't know where Darryl had come across the flyer. The handwritten message on the bottom of the sheet was warning enough, though. Darryl didn't want his name linked in any way to the forged birth certificate. If Bob did release Darryl's name, there'd be consequences.

The threat was real and Bob knew it. Between fear of Darryl and the law, his first thought was to pack up his family and run for the border. He and Merrily and Axel could make a new life in Canada. But that meant constantly looking over his shoulder, wondering from day to day whether the authorities were going to catch up with him. It wasn't how he wanted to live. Not when he'd had a taste of what life
could
be like.

For the first time, Bob was a respected member of the community, a successful businessman, a husband and father. 3 OF A KIND was thriving and he'd actually hired two extra staff so he and Merrily could occasionally have time away. People came to him for advice and he'd made friends. Dammit, he'd worked too hard to throw it all away now.

He considered contacting an attorney, but he didn't know one he could trust. His biggest fear was that he'd make an appointment, spill his guts, then have the bastard rat on him. A lawyer might feel obligated to turn Merrily in on kidnapping charges. Him, too, for that matter.

The only person Buffalo Bob felt he could approach was Maddy McKenna. For one thing, he trusted her; for another, she'd been a social worker. Maybe she'd worked on cases like this and could tell him what to do.

When Bob came out of the office he found Merrily waiting for him. The woman had a sixth sense about trouble. Axel was in her arms and both of them were staring at him, their eyes anxious. Bob swore he'd never let them down, even if it meant losing everything he owned. They would do whatever they had to. He'd be a rich man as long as he had Merrily and their boy.

“Is something wrong?” she asked when he didn't immediately say anything.

Bob hesitated, tempted to tell her. She was his wife, his partner. They were in this together.

“You don't need to worry, Bob,” she said, shifting Axel from one hip to the other. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”

“Let me find out what I can first, okay?”

After a moment, she nodded. “If that's what you think is best.”

“I do.”

“Okay.” She kissed Axel's forehead and set the little boy down.

Bob left right away, seeking out Maddy. The sooner he talked to her, the better. It was hotter than blazes, not yet noon and already the temperatures soared into the nineties. The sun beat down on him in unrelenting waves as he hurried toward the grocery, trying to reassure himself that Maddy would know what to do.

“Morning, Bob.” She greeted him with her usual cheeriness as he walked into the air-conditioned store.

“Morning. Ahh—feels good in here.”

Maddy, who was looking very pregnant these days, had a full staff working for her. The Loomis twins were constantly there now that school was out and she'd recently hired a manager.

“Got a moment?” he asked casually.

“For you?” she asked with a grin. “Any time.”

He glanced in both directions. “I'd prefer if we could speak privately.”

His request didn't seem to surprise her. “That's fine,” she said, and led him to the small office at the rear of the grocery.

Once inside, she closed the door, sat down at a battered metal desk and motioned him toward the remaining chair.

“Now what can I do for you?” she began.

“I want to ask you something.”

“All right,” she said, leaning back. “Just as long as you don't want to know how much I weigh.”

He laughed as he took the chair opposite her, but his worries soon overcame his sense of humor. “Suppose I had a friend,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands.

“A friend.”

“And say this friend knew a couple who had a child.”

“Okay,” Maddy said.

“Only this couple abused the child.”

Her expression sobered. “What kind of abuse?”

“Physical—there are scars. My friend said there were scars,” he corrected.

“So you…your friend has evidence of this abuse.”

He nodded. “What if the situation looked real bad for the child and it seemed the only sensible thing to do was take him away from that dangerous environment?”

“Take the child to the proper authorities, you mean?”

“No.” There, he'd said it. She had to know he meant Axel. “What if that person decided to keep the child herself?” he went on. “What if that person loved the child more than life itself and would risk anything to keep him?” The questions came fast, with no breath in between.

Maddy's eyes were serious now. “Oh, Bob.”

“Not good?”

“Not good at all. I don't even want to tell you the number of laws your
friend
has broken. Please don't tell me this friend took the child across state lines?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

Maddy closed her eyes. “Oh, Bob, that's big trouble. Transporting a kidnapped child across state lines is a federal offense.”

“Any recommendations?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“I have a friend, a very good friend in Savannah, an attorney who specializes in helping people in just these types of difficult situations. Now, don't worry. I'm sure everything's going to work out.”

“Will this attorney friend of yours be able to recommend someone here in North Dakota?”

“You'll have to discuss that with Doug.” She pulled open a drawer and removed a personal telephone directory. “Give his office a call,” she said as she reached for a notepad and wrote out the phone number.

“My friend…doesn't have a lot of money.”

“I understand,” she said, ripping off the sheet. “But don't delay. Phone him as soon as you can. And this is important….”

“Yes?” Bob said.

“Follow his advice to the letter. All right?”

“To the letter,” Bob echoed. Folding the sheet of paper, he inserted it in his pocket. Then he glanced up and met Maddy's eyes. “We never had this conversation, right?”

“It never happened,” she reassured him.

When he stood to leave, Maddy surprised him. She stood, too, and gave him a hug. He couldn't help feeling he was going to need all the hugs he could get in the coming months.

He thanked her and then left. As he came out of the store and stood in the piercing hot sun, Buffalo Bob knew that he was about to enter the fight of his life. He was up to it, though. Merrily, too. They would find a way to keep Axel.

Bob felt a sense of relief. He had options. First thing he intended to do was contact this attorney friend of Maddy's. And if worse came to worst, they'd leave the country. Hell or high water, they'd be together and really, that was all that mattered.

His wife was waiting for him when he returned, her eyes worried. “Everything all right now?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded. “Everything's going to be fine.”

 

Jeb and Maddy woke before dawn. Neither had slept much, and Maddy could barely rouse herself to get out of bed. A phone call had come from Joshua the night before. He thought they should know that the police had contacted Sarah. Apparently Calla had run away from Willie's, gotten into trouble and was currently in a shelter for runaway teens.

Sarah and Dennis had left immediately for Minneapolis. Sarah was desperately worried and so was everyone else.

Jeb had prepared a cup of herbal tea for Maddy by the time she joined him in the kitchen. Because of the heat, she wore only a thin cotton gown. She yawned. With the baby due in a couple of weeks, she was constantly tired.

“You feeling okay?” her husband asked, his concern producing a frown.

“Oh, yes,” she assured him, trying to smile. With everyone so worried about Calla, it was hard to think of anything else.

“I've got to see to the herd,” he said, his reluctance noticeable. He had a cell phone in his shirt pocket, but they both knew that he was often out of range and it might well be impossible to reach him. “Are you sure…”

“Go,” she instructed, pointing toward the door. “I'll be fine. Margaret's coming over to keep me company.”

“But—”

“Just go, Jeb. The sooner you finish your work, the sooner I can have you back here.”

He nodded. “You're not driving into town?”

“No. I don't need to.” Pete had everything under control, and she wanted him to have the experience of managing the grocery on his own.

“Good.” Jeb's relief was apparent. “And if you hear anything about Calla…”

“I'll let you know first thing,” she promised.

He moved toward the door, then stopped. “Margaret's coming when?”

“She'll be here by nine.”

“Good.” He grabbed his hat from the peg by the back entrance.

“Wait.” His concern prompted her to detain him. Just for a moment. “Come here, rancher man,” she said, crooking one finger toward him. “You're not getting out that door until I've made sure you have a reason to hurry home.”

Jeb didn't need any urging. He wrapped his arms around her nonexistent waist; their kiss was passionate and afterward they clung to each other. Maddy hated to lose the comfort of his arms but finally persuaded him to leave.

Maddy thought about Calla as she dressed. The conversation with Bob a week earlier was another worry. Because he'd asked her not to, Maddy hadn't told anyone—not even her husband—about Bob's
friend.

As she made the bed, Maddy experienced a twinge in her back that worked its way around to her front. It went away but returned later when she was brushing her teeth. The only person she could ask this early in the morning was Hassie Knight.

“A twinge?” Hassie repeated.

“It's too soon for the baby,” Maddy insisted.

“Are you saying you think you're in labor?” Hassie cried excitedly.

“Hassie,” Maddy said. “I've never been in labor before. How would I know? That's the reason I phoned you.”

“Did you time these…twinges?”

“No.” Maddy couldn't think of any reason she should, especially since she was convinced it couldn't be labor.

“Where's Jeb?”

“He's out with the herd but he won't be gone long. You know about Calla, don't you?”

“The whole town knows and we're all worried sick.” But Hassie sounded angry, too. “Are you alone?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Margaret's on her way, or she will be soon.”

“Call her and ask her to come over
now.
”

“Hassie,” Maddy protested. “You're overreacting.”

“When she arrives, have her drive you into town. Leta Betts and I will get you to the hospital from here.”

Maddy rolled her eyes. “I'm not going without Jeb. Not after he attended all those classes with me. I need him—he's my birthing partner.”

“The hell with Jeb. If he was fool enough to leave you by yourself, then he's plumb out of luck.”

“Forget it, Hassie. I'm not leaving this ranch without my husband.”

The twinges had become regular and they were more than twinges now. She was in labor; she was sure of it. Following Hassie's advice, she decided to time the pains. She was standing in the kitchen, staring at the clock, when she felt a sharp cramping and gasped, cradling her abdomen. Not until the warm liquid gushed from between her legs did she realize that her water had broken.