Lonestar Angel (13 page)

“I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to the judge about this. You don’t want to scare Madeline, do you?”

“Why would her own mother frighten her? She wants to see me. I know she does.”

He might have to call the sheriff. Agitation came off the woman in waves. Her pupils were dilated too, and he wondered if she was on any kind of medication for her condition. “Not today,” he said in a soothing murmur. “She’s eating right now. Talk to the judge and come back when he says it’s okay.”

Her shoulders slumped and she turned back toward her car. She rummaged inside a moment. “I have something for you.” She emerged and wheeled toward him.

A blade glittered in her hand, and her face twisted in a snarl. She leaped toward him with the knife raised over her head. The moment seemed poised in time, almost surreal, as the woman’s blond hair flew out behind her and the knife arced toward his chest.

Almost too late, he gathered his wits and dodged to the left. The blade barely missed his shoulder, and he felt the wind of its passing. He twisted back toward her and seized her wrist. She fought back ferociously, baring her teeth and trying to bite his arm. He blocked her and forced the knife from her fingers. The anger drained from her face, and she went limp. He eased her to the ground and yelled for Rick.

While the other man called for the sheriff, Clay watched her, but she never raised her head from her knees as she sat curled in a ball.

Surreptitiously, Eden glanced at the time, then watched Lacie pick up first one shoe then the other. The child had been patient when Eden stopped at another store to buy pajamas that covered her more than the lace teddy she’d been sleeping in. Lacie’s eyes had brightened when they stepped into the small shoe store.

“Where do you usually buy shoes?” Eden asked.

Lacie stopped with her hand poised above a pink sneaker. “My foster mom brings them home from Walmart.”

“You don’t try them on?”

The little girl shook her head. “She measures me. She says she won’t take me to the store because all the kids ask for things. That’s not fair, though. I’ve never asked for anything.”

Lacie had an odd kind of maturity. Even her syntax seemed advanced to Eden. “Let’s try these on,” she said, picking up a pair of pink Nikes.

Lacie’s eyes widened. “They have the swoosh on them. They cost too much.”

“I can afford them.” She resolved not to submit the bill to the ranch. “Sit there.”

As Lacie clambered onto a nearby bench, Eden’s cell phone played “The Voice” by Celtic Woman, which meant the caller wasn’t in her contacts list. She clawed the phone from her purse, but it had already rung four times by the time she swiped it on and saw
Unknown
on the screen. For a moment she was tempted not to answer, but what if the caller was Clay and he had his number screened?

She touched
Answer Call
on the screen and put it to her ear. “This is Eden.” An electronic noise filled her head. “Hello?”

“I know what you did,” the man whispered. The sound of the voice gave her chills. Then she realized there was an electronic device distorting it.

She clutched the phone to her ear and turned her back to Lacie. “Who is this?” she demanded.

He knew what she did. What did that mean?

The voice vibrated with rage. “You’ll pay and pay dearly. I took Brianna once. This time will be worse. Much worse. You shouldn’t have come.”

The kidnapper. The blow nearly doubled her over. “Don’t you touch my baby!” she said fiercely.

“How will you stop me?” he sneered.

“What do you want from me? I’ll do whatever you say. Just leave Brianna alone.”

“Anything, Eden? Really? Would you walk away from Bluebird Ranch right now? Leave Clay behind? I’ve seen the way you look at him. You still love him, don’t you?”

She glanced quickly around the store. Was he here somewhere? Watching her? “No, of course not. I haven’t thought of him in five years.”

“I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to come here with Clay. You’re going to wish you hadn’t.”

The past week had allowed her to put that nightmare behind. “I’m just here for Brianna. Nothing else.”

“Prove it. Leave today. Right now.”

Everything in her rejected the demand. Not when she was so close. “I’m not abandoning Brianna.”

“See? I knew you wouldn’t do anything. Now you know too. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

She paced on the carpet in front of the shoes. “My daughter is here and I’m not leaving without her.” No more trying to appease him. He wasn’t going to intimidate her. “What do you want with me anyway?”

The man laughed. “Do you really know who you are, Eden? If you did, you wouldn’t be so smug.”

She shuddered at the venom in this voice, but no enemy came to mind. “I know who I am. Who are you?”

“Remember, whatever happens, you brought it on yourself.”

The click in her ear told her he’d hung up. She put the phone back in her purse and composed herself. Pasting on a smile, she turned back to Lacie. “How do those shoes fit?” she asked in a fake bright tone.

“I think they are good.” Lacie had slipped from the bench and was walking a few feet on the carpet. “Can I really have them?”

“Of course. Let me check the size.” Eden knelt and pressed on the toes and arch, but her mind raced and her hands trembled. She needed to talk to Clay.

“Do they fit?” Lacie’s voice was hopeful.

“They sure do. Let’s go pay for them and get back to the ranch. We’ve already missed dinner.”

“We can eat leftovers.”

“I think we’ll grab some chicken nuggets on the way home. How does that sound?”

The little girl’s expression brightened. “We’re eating out?”

“I think a little treat is in order,” Eden said, forcing herself to be in the moment. The caller was a nightmare, but this time with Lacie was reality. After all, she might be her Brianna.

“I can’t eat nuggets, though. I’m ’lergic to wheat. But can I have french fries? And chili?”

“Whatever you like.” She paid for the shoes. “Want to wear them?” she asked Lacie.

The little girl nodded. Eden had her sit on a bench, and she slipped on socks, then the shoes. “Now for food,” she said.

She ordered their meal to go from the café next door. While she was waiting, she and Lacie stepped next door and bought a large java from Desert Coffee, then returned to the café. When the order was ready, she took Lacie’s hand and went out to the parking lot where she’d left the truck. The lot held only a small yellow car. She stared down the street but saw no big black truck.

Was she mistaken about where she’d parked? Maybe it was on the other side of the street? But no, she was sure it was right here.

Lacie ate a fry, then licked her fingers. “Where’s our truck? It was parked there.” She pointed to the spot where the car sat.

“I know.”

Lacie was admiring her shoes. “Maybe Mr. Clay had to borrow it back.”

“You might be right.” Someone had stolen Clay’s fancy truck. He’d be livid. Was it the man who had called her? A chill shuddered through her. He was here. Somewhere close. Watching, waiting to strike.

She pulled out her phone again, then realized she didn’t know Clay’s cell number. “Let’s go see the sheriff while we wait,” she said.

Lacie skipped along beside her as they crossed the deserted street to the sheriff’s office. Only a receptionist was inside, and the woman told her she’d page the sheriff, who was out on a call. When Eden stepped back outside, the yellow car was gone, and the truck was right where she’d left it. She saw a flash of yellow and turned to see the car driving away with a teenage boy behind the wheel. Had he taken the truck, or was it a coincidence that he’d parked there?

She took Lacie’s hand and walked slowly across the street. When she opened it, a male cologne wafted to her nose, and it wasn’t Clay’s.

13

I
T WAS MUCH LATER THAN
C
LAY HAD EXPECTED BY THE TIME THE TIRES OF HIS BLACK TRUCK
crunched up the gravel drive. He left the girls watching a video in the main house with Rick and Allie’s daughter, Betsy, and went out to meet Eden. A fiery sunset backlit the hulking peaks of the surrounding hills, and he glanced around, an odd chill on his spine.

Both doors on the truck opened, and Lacie ran to him. “See my shoes,” she said, lifting one for his inspection. “Miss Eden bought them for me. And we had supper out!” Without waiting for his response, she took off for the house. “I have to show the girls!”

He grinned and watched her leap the steps and rush inside. When he turned back toward Eden, he sensed a wariness in her stance. “Something wrong?”

“Someone took your truck for a joy ride,” she said. She came around the front of the truck and stopped two feet from him.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I went to report it to the sheriff, and when I came back out, it was back in the space.”

He frowned. “You sure you looked in the right space?”

Her face went white. “Yes, I know exactly where I parked it. The spot was empty.” She hesitated. “Maybe it was just a kid out for a joy ride. There was a yellow car in the lot too, and it belonged to a teenager.”

“Is that it? You seem more upset than the incident would warrant.” Even in the gloom, he could see her tremble. He curled his fingers into his palm to keep from reaching out to pull her close.

“I . . . I got a phone call.” Her voice shook.

He straightened. “Kent?”

“No, no.” Her voice became stronger as anger replaced fear. “It was the kidnapper.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“He said he took Brianna once and he could do it again.” Her voice began to shake again. “I think he took the truck. To rattle me.”

Clay’s hands clenched into fists. “He’s not getting his hands on her,” he said fiercely. “Or you.”

“We have to protect our girls, Clay.” Her voice was panicked.

“We’ll protect them all.” He couldn’t help but reach out and hold her when he heard her choked voice. She collapsed against his chest. It had been so long, yet she fit there as if she’d never left.

How had he let her go? Fighting for her had seemed pointless at the time. Each of them had been full of recriminations and hurt, and neither had been willing to bend and listen. God forgive him, he’d blamed her too. It shamed him to admit it to himself. He’d been consumed with the what-ifs. What if she hadn’t gunned the engine? What if he’d delivered the ransom money alone? What if he’d never gone back to South America? The blame he’d felt toward her had radiated from him, and their fragile relationship had splintered.

“Why is he doing this?” she whispered against his chest. “He seems to be intent on revenge against me.”

“Against you, not me?” They’d both assumed the kidnapping had something to do with him. The drug money stolen during the bust. A piece he’d written that had offended someone. Some picture he’d taken that had humiliated a subject.

Sniffling, she pulled away. “He said that whatever happened, I’d brought it on myself.”

“Brought what on yourself?”

“I don’t know. He asked me if I knew who I really was. Almost as if he knew I’d grown up in a foster home.”

“You’ve offended someone pretty badly. Who could it be?”

“I can’t think of anyone.”

Her foster brother would know everything. “I bet I know.”

“It’s not Kent. He’s an honorable man. He sent me off without any strings. Besides, someone else sent you the picture. Kent didn’t know about us until you showed up.”

“I’m not talking about Kent. I’m talking about Daniel. Think about it. He was hanging around the whole time we were married. Commiserating with you about how terrible it was when I flew off to Colombia for that mission. Right there to help when you walked out.”

She held his gaze. “Daniel’s like a brother. There was never anything between us. We grew up together, for Pete’s sake! That feels dirty for you to even say it.”

“You’re not biologically related.”

“He’s my brother in every way that counts.”

Maybe
she
felt that way, but that didn’t mean the slimeball hadn’t reveled in their breakup. Clay hadn’t trusted him one bit. “How did he take your romance with Kent?”