Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) (13 page)

“What Liberty said--”

“Was wrong,” he slung back. “She doesn’t know shit about me. She doesn’t know you. How could she possibly think that anything would be different? That you’re different from the dozens of other women I’ve known.” The muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked out the window. He wanted answers. He wanted a stiff drink. He wanted her.

“I do care about you. There’s more to this.”

“Yeah?” He pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “Tell me, what is it that I’m not getting here, Angel? Is it another guy?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“My drinking? Is that the issue?”

She folded her arms protectively over her chest and looked away from him. “It concerns me, I won’t deny that, but it has nothing to do with my choices.” She glanced at him, and he could see she was fighting back tears.

His frustration, the hurt, showed no mercy. “Then what? If it’s my reputation, I swear there is no one in my life, Angel. No one I’d rather be with than you.”

She shook her head and refused to look at him. He wanted to shake her, to make her see what she was tossing away. God, he was dying inside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he looked at her. His heart twisted in his chest at what he was about to say. “Look, if you aren’t interested in more than some good times with a guy like me, then hell, just come right out and say it. Because I can’t take this. You won’t talk to me. I can’t help. I don’t know what else to do, except let go.”

She raised her eyes to his, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I knew someone would get hurt. Why couldn’t you leave things the way they were? Why didn’t I?” She jerked the door open and he lunged for her arm.

“What are you talking about?”

She slid from the seat and out of his grasp. “Just please leave me alone. Leave Emilee alone. Please.”

“Angel? What the hell? Just tell me what I’ve done.”

“It’s not you, Dalton. All this time, I’ve been living a lie. I’ve lied to you, to my daughter, and worse, I’ve lied to myself, thinking it wouldn’t matter.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He shut off the truck.

“No, please, you have to leave. Just go,” she said, her sobs choking out the words.

“I can’t leave you this way,” he pleaded, not even understanding what the hell he was fighting for.

“I don’t want to see you again, Dalton. Trust me, you’re better off.” With that, she slammed the door and tore up the steps, leaving him battered, bruised, and stunned.

***

Angelique hadn’t heard from him in days. School was just around the corner and Emilee’s excitement to see her friends and head into third grade had kept her busy. Whenever the opportunity to help her uncle at the Kinnison ranch came up, she used work as an excuse.

“You never mentioned how things are between you and Dalton,” her aunt asked. They’d spent the afternoon cutting out a number of skirts from material they’d found at one of her aunt’s favorite fabric shops. “We must have looked at five stores in Billings, searching for school clothes. Aside from the cost, the workmanship was ghastly. It’s awful to think of what the mark-up must be.” She spoke with a straight pin clenched in her teeth. “All it takes is a little time and the right machine.”

Angelique smiled, remembering the number of times when she’d needed a special outfit for school. All she had to do was pick out a picture and magically, it seemed, her aunt found the same fabric and the right pattern to fit Angelique perfectly. She flipped the page of the book she’d been reading, wishing all her needs and wants could be so easily crafted. “Dalton and I have decided to be friends.” A long silence followed, prompting her to look up from her book. She met Aunt Rebecca’s steady gaze.

“Friends?” she repeated as though not hearing it the first time.

She held up her hand. “It’s better this way.” Angelique returned to her book, staring at the same page she’d been reading and re-reading over the past ten minutes. The pressure of being around him while she kept her secret about Emilee and her non-dead husband was no longer an issue. But what they’d shared—the laughter, the fishing, mostly how wonderfully protected she felt in his arms—that hole was eating her alive.

“So rather than face the music and tell him the truth, you choose instead to avoid him.”

“It’s worked fairly well so far and more importantly, no one gets hurt.” She fought the knot forming in her gut. Deep down she knew her aunt was right.

“I never pegged you for a coward, Angelique.”

Her chin quivered, tears threatening her resolve. The truth slashed across her stubborn heart. She was afraid. Afraid of making bad choices again. Dalton was incredible in so many ways--an amazing lover, fun, adventuresome, hardworking, but his temper and drinking reminded her of the very kind of people she’d been running away from all her life. And there was Emilee--she’d die first before she’d allow her to come so close again to being hurt or to grow up in a house where she didn’t know how much she was loved. She straightened her shoulders. She couldn’t expect her aunt to understand what she’d been through nor did she feel the need to explain. “Once I’m on my feet, Emilee and I will move on. I don’t expect you to understand my choices, but I would appreciate your respect of them.” She started to walk from the room.

“Angelique.”

Her aunt’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She waited, studying the small, framed photos hung on the wall going upstairs. Most were of her in various stages of her childhood--one of her blowing out candles on a cake, another of her uncle leading her on her first horse. A more recent one showed a close-up of Emilee and Aunt Rebecca smiling as they held up the first tomato of the season.

“You don’t have to let the past define you. But neither should you run from it. All that has happened has helped to make you the woman you are today. You had no power to change your mother, or your ex-husband. You only have the power to change yourself.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, Aunt Rebecca,” she said, facing her.

Her aunt nodded. “But not all men who get angry are like Tony. Not all people who drink are alcoholic. Have you been truthful with Dalton? Given him the chance to show you the man I believe he is?”

“I know him and his temper, and I know he’ll never forgive me for lying to him about Emilee.” A trickle of fear curled around her heart. “The Kinnisons are influential around here. What if he fought for custody; what if he tried to take her away from me? I couldn’t…I can’t even think about that.” She shook her head.

“You don’t really feel that way.”

Angelique released a weary sigh. She’d played the various scenarios over in her mind. In Dalton’s eyes, she’d abandoned Emilee once. If he was angry enough with her, why wouldn’t he use that against her? “I’m sorry you don’t agree with me.”

“I’m sorry you seem blind to what is right in front of you,” her aunt fired back. “Dalton cares for you. He would feel the same about Emilee.”

“Not if he knew the truth. I can’t do that to him. What kind of trust could there ever be between us?”

“I know you’re scared. But consider what you may be losing by not trusting Dalton a bit better. You won’t know for sure until you tell him the truth.”

Angelique dropped her hands to her sides. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I’m just a coward.”

Her gaze softened. “Not my girl, no. Confused, maybe, but promise me you’ll think about it. There are several ways of looking at what seems impossible, Angelique. The best choice isn’t always to walk away. Maybe you need to make your head believe what you already know in your heart.”

She met her aunt’s gaze, brimming with kindness and wisdom. She knew what was coming next.

“You love him.”

Chapter Nine

Dalton took a pull on the beer he’d been nursing for the past hour. Sitting alone in the backyard, he stared at the tall pine forest beyond the split rail fence, watching the afternoon drift into another sunset. He’d gone on with his life, determined to give Angelique space to figure out whatever the hell she needed to. Maybe he was a fool. Wouldn’t be the first time, probably not the last. Closing his eyes, he sighed and let his head drop back against the Adirondack chair. The more he fought how much he missed her, the more the loneliness nibbled away at him.

He heard the mournful sound of an owl, and it seemed to echo in his soul.

“Women are a puzzle.”

He responded with a snort. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.

“Some are worth it, though, if you’re willing to be patient and get all the pieces right.”

Dalton sighed. He really didn’t need any of Wyatt’s sanctimonious mumbo-jumbo right now. “Listen, man, I know you mean well--” He opened one eye and turned to face the voice he’d heard.

And found himself alone.

Slowly he straightened in his chair. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the dusky shadows. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Dalton?” Aimee’s voice startled him, calling from the deck a good twenty feet from the stone fire pit.

He picked up his beer and, feeling oddly as if a ghost had visited him, walked on unsteady legs back to the house.

“Can you watch Grace for me for a few minutes? I need to check on supper.”

“Wyatt’s not home?” He gingerly took the baby, cradling the tiny bundle, holding her close, no longer afraid that he might break her.

“He and Rein are with Michael checking on that mare that’s about to deliver.”

He followed her through the door leading from the deck to the kitchen, his brain scrambling to make sense of what he thought he’d heard. But no one but his brothers knew what he’d been going through, what had had him tied in knots for days.

“Do you feel okay? You look kind of pasty.” Her hand paused midair as she looked at him. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

The scent of the delectable pot roast and potatoes from the oven made his mouth water. “No, I’m good.” He glanced out the back door. The fire pit area had been swallowed by the blue-gray evening shadows.

Grace wiggled in his arms and he offered her a finger to play with. She smiled up at him, her blue eyes, so much like her mama’s, shining in her cherub face.

“We haven’t had a chance to visit in a while. You’ve been pretty busy with the horses. This is the first time I think you’ve been up here for supper in the last couple of weeks.”

Dalton leaned against the kitchen counter, dividing his attention between the two women in the room, but he couldn’t shake the weird feeling that’d he’d just experienced something Michael might refer to as
spirit magic
.

“How are things with you and Angelique?”

Pulled from his thoughts, he blinked. “We’re, uh…taking a break. She’s been busy. I’ve been busy.” He shrugged.

He caught Aimee’s glance as she spooned
au jus
over the roast. “She’s been through a lot, I understand.”

“Yeah.” He made faces at Gracie, battling with her for use of his finger.

“She’ll come around. I know you all think women are the complicated ones. But really, we want the same things guys do.”

That made him smile. “And what is that, exactly, because that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out for the past two weeks.”

Aimee stuck the roast in the oven and swiftly multi-tasked, setting out plates on the counter and warming a bottle before handing it to him along with a burp cloth.

He kicked out a kitchen chair and made himself comfortable while Aimee started putting together a salad.

“Everybody wants to find someone they can trust. Someone who, despite your past, your flaws, loves you anyway. Someone to go through the ups and downs with, right?”

His hungry niece chugged down her bottle with the ease of a seasoned country girl. He tossed the cloth in place and lifted the babe over his shoulder, gently coaxing a surprisingly large burp from her. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. Glancing up, he found Aimee paused in her task, looking at him with motherly tenderness.

“What? I thought that sounded fantastic.”

She smiled. “You’re going to make a great dad one day, Dalton Kinnison.”

Heat climbed up his neck. He’d heard lots of comments over the years from various people predicting how he’d turn out, but being a good father had never been one of them. He brushed away the odd twist in his chest. “Burping a baby isn’t exactly rocket science.” He grinned, thinking his pretty sister-in-law was a bit more sappy than usual.

“I’ve seen you with other kids. Emilee, for one. You’re very patient and sweet. She adores you, you can see it.” Her eyes welled and she sniffed.

This was veering into territory he didn’t know how to handle. “You okay?” He didn’t want to appear rude, but this emotional meltdown stuff was not his forte.

She sniffed again and shook her head, returning to chopping peppers for the salad. “I’m just a little emotional these days, I guess. I just wish everyone was as happy as your brother and me.” She chopped away as she continued. Dalton couldn’t do much else but listen.

“You’re such a good guy. I know things haven’t been easy for you, But you’ve managed to overcome so many things in your life. Look at what you guys have done around here—what a legacy Jed has to show for raising you boys. I can’t imagine how proud he must be.”

Dalton had discovered the root of Wyatt’s knew-found sentiment. Still, she was right. Jed had done an amazing job with three very scarred young men, patiently showing them what being a family was all about—showing them what it meant to be a man. Dalton chuckled at the realization dawning in his brain. For too long he’d been clinging to some baseball hat, wishing he knew who his father was, feeling as though he’d been cheated, robbed of a piece of his life. The only one who’d been robbing him was himself.

Gracie had fallen asleep in his arms. Fed. Content. All was right in her little world. “You have an exceptional mama, Gracie June.” He handed over the sleeping child and planted a kiss on Aimee’s forehead. “Thank you.”

She beamed at him, though he swore her eyes were about to leak again. “You’re welcome, but I’m not sure what I said that was helpful.”

A loud bang of the front door and the sound of boots hurrying across the wood floor followed. “Miss Aimee! Miss Aimee!” Emilee skidded to a stop, running smack into Dalton. He caught her by the arms and knelt to face her. “What’s the matter, Emilee?”

Her eyes, large and brimming with excitement, met his gaze. She could barely hold still long enough to speak. “The mare. She’s had her baby colt. It’s a boy!” She looked up at Aimee with a wide grin.

Aimee smiled. “Just what we need around here--more boys.”

“Hey, now,” Dalton shot her a grin.

“Oh, my lord, I never noticed that before.” Aimee wore a quizzical expression.

Dalton stood and scooped up Emilee in his arms, giving her a peck on the cheek. It’d been nearly two weeks since Emilee had been allowed to come out to the ranch. He hadn’t realized how quiet things had been around here until now. Michael had offered the excuse that her mother and aunt had been keeping her busy with school preparations, but Dalton couldn’t help but believe there was more to it than that. It pissed him off at first. He couldn’t understand why anything between him and Angelique should have any effect on the friendship he and Emilee had formed over the summer. There again, though, he’d conceded that if Angelique needed time to think things through, he’d give it to her.

“Just a sec, you two. This is such a great picture. Hang on, let me get my phone.” Aimee hurried to the dining room to find her purse.

He looked at the little girl and they both shrugged, Emilee collapsing in a fit of giggles that penetrated the sadness in Dalton’s heart. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You being a good girl and minding your mama?” he asked, searching the little girl’s sun-kissed face. Every time he looked at her, he saw Angelique. His heart twisted.

“Yessir. Aunt Rebecca has been making me a bunch of new clothes for third grade. And mama bought me a Hello Kitty backpack.”

“Sounds like you’re just about ready. Your mama loves you very much,” he said, giving her a gentle tug.

Emilee leaned back, her smile fading.

“What is it, punkin’?” He wiggled one of her braids.

“I think my mama misses my daddy.”

He searched her eyes and nodded. “Probably so, but what makes you think that?” No, it wasn’t his business, and yeah, maybe he was fishing for some shred of sense in what Angelique needed to figure out.

“She doesn’t smile much anymore, and she’s been working a lot. Grandma says she’s trying to save enough so we can have our own house. I want to live on a ranch and raise horses.” Her dark eyes twinkled when she looked at him.

“Here we go. Now big smiles, both of you,” Aimee said, holding the camera steady.

Dalton smiled cheek-to-cheek with the little girl. “Cheese,” they said in unison.

“You want to come down and see the new colt?” Emilee wiggled free of his grasp and grabbed his hand.

“Sure, I do.” He looked at Aimee, who held Gracie cradled in one arm, her free hand holding the phone up as she studied it. Dalton tapped Emilee’s nose. “You go on down. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I want to make sure Miss Aimee doesn’t need my help anymore, okay punkin’?”

She giggled. “It’s funny when you call me punkin’.” She turned on her little cowboy boot heel and took off as fast as she’d arrived.

“Don’t run in the house,” he called just for good measure, as it fell on deaf ears anyway.

“You need me to put Gracie in her crib before I go?”

Aimee focused on the phone. “What? Oh, no, I’ll take care of it.”

Puzzled as to why she insisted on taking the photo, he walked over to her. He peered at the picture. “Did it come out all right?”

The image hit him with the force of a moving train. He blinked and tipped Aimee’s hand to see it at a better angle. He couldn’t look away. He glanced up and met her curious look. Was it possible? No one knew about that night nearly seven years ago. Dalton’s gaze shot back to the picture. It was either totally uncanny or…
holy crap.

“Dalton?”

He heard Aimee’s voice, but his brain felt on overload, blocking the sound. All this time, pretending to care about him and yet holding him at arm’s length, talking about the things she’d done, the choices she’d made. The lies….

To her daughter.

To those around her.

To him.

God, he felt like a fool. “Jesus.” He shook his head. It was enough to deal with the fact that she’d lied to him and a kick in the gut to know his own daughter had been right under his nose all this time. He squeezed his eyes and swiped his hand over his mouth. “You see it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know why I hadn’t until now. I hadn’t really ever seen the two of you together--”

“She lied to me.” His eyes searched Aimee’s hoping for her to say something that would make sense of this. “Jesus, Aimee, all this time, why would she do that?” Pain twisted his heart.

“Dalton,” she said. “You need to slow down. Yes, from that angle, with you both smiling like that, it’s remarkable, I agree. But we don’t know for sure until you speak with Angelique.”

He listened, confused, bewildered, feeling betrayed. “Did you mean what you said about me making a good father one day?” He had to hear it again. Had to make himself believe that despite Angelique apparently not seeing him as a long-term commitment or a good father, someone
did.

“Oh, Dalton, of course. If you find out without a doubt--”

He knew. It was as though a light shone in his brain, making everything clear. Maybe he’d always known but was too willing to concede that Angelique didn’t find him fit for much else than a temporary good time. He took a deep breath. She had another thing coming. If she wouldn’t tell him the truth, there were such things as blood tests that would solve this question. She’d lied to the wrong person and, by damn, he was going to get some answers. “I’ve got to go.

“Please, give her a chance to explain.” Aimee touched his arm. “We don’t know everything she’s been through.”

He swallowed hard, tamping down his need to throw something. “Okay,” he said more to himself than to his sister-in-law. “I need some answers, Aimee. I’ve been straight with her about how I feel. I deserve to know if this is why she keeps pushing me away.”

She nodded. “Call if you need anything.”

He nodded and took out his phone. “Can you send that photo to my phone?”

She nodded, quickly making the transfer. He waited to be sure it came through. “Thanks.”

He hurried out to his truck, pausing long enough to see the light pouring out of the barn. Though he had no proof other than a single photo of the child whose smile resembled his, he couldn’t help but wonder if Michael and Rebecca had known that she was his when they brought Emilee to End of the Line.