Son of a Gun (28 page)

“So all you have is the captain’s word?”

“No. The boat is in port and the the local authorities did a fingerprint check. There’s an exact match. And now I have someone here who’d like to say hello.”

“It’s over, Damien. It’s really over. The monster is dead.”

Emma’s voice sang with excitement. “I’m on my way back to the ranch and I can’t wait to see you.”

“I’ll be here.” He wanted to say so much more. Like the fact that he loved her. That he never wanted her out of his life. But words could wait. Emma was safe and she was coming back to him.

* * *

EMMA COULDN’T STOP SMILING. It was as if her heart were so full of happiness that it might burst from her chest.

She knew she’d still have nightmares about her time with Caudillo. There would still be days when she’d wake up and for a horrifying second think she was still locked away in his island fortress. But those times would grow fewer and further apart. She’d never forget the horrors, but she wouldn’t let them rob her of her happiness, either.

Damien was waiting outside when the car she was in pulled up in front of the rambling ranch house. She jumped from the car and into his arms. He swung her around as if she were a kid, making her dizzy with excitement and desire. And then he pulled her to him and held her so close she could barely breathe.

When his lips met hers, she melted into his kiss. She could have stayed in his arms forever had not the rest of the family rushed out to welcome her home.

Minutes later, they’d all gathered on the glassed-in porch and the celebration shifted into high gear. Tague popped the cork on the champagne. Emma settled into the rocker, cradling the precious Belle in her arms while life, laughter and intoxicating relief rocked the room.

Carolina pulled a chair up next to Emma. “I have a confession to make.”

“Confess anything today and I’d forgive you.”

“I was a nervous wreck last night, and I just kept thinking I had to do something positive. I hope you don’t consider this meddling in your affairs, but I called around and found out that the daughter of a friend of mine is one of the supervisors in charge of finding foster parents in our area. So I called her and explained the situation with Belle.”

Emma held her breath, not sure she wanted to hear the rest of this confession. “What did you find out?”

“That there’s a real shortage of foster homes for infants in this area. She sees no reason why they can’t place Belle in your care until the father is located if you’ll take the fostering-parent classes and if you’re approved as a foster parent. I’m sure you will be.”

“Me? Keep Belle?”

“Only if you want to. And if you agree to stay in the county. But it will still only be until they find the real father.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what to say. I
so
want to take care of Belle as long as she needs me. And when I have to give her up, I’ll just have to handle it. Thanks. Thank you for everything.”

“It’s partly selfish, you know. I’m not ready to lose either of you.”

And if Damien loved her as much as she did him, Carolina would get her wish. But as yet, Damien had not mentioned love. Maybe it was only the fact that she needed protection that had turned him on.

No, she didn’t believe that. He might not have said the words yet, but she’d seen love in his eyes and felt it in his touch.

Yet when she looked for him she realized that he’d slipped away from the celebration and was nowhere in sight.

* * *

CAROLINA SLIPPED OUT THE back door and followed Damien as he took the well-worn path to the horse barn. The letter she’d cherished for years was clutched in her right hand. Running, she caught up with Damien and slipped her left arm though his. “It’s not like you to leave a family celebration.”

“That was when I thought I knew where I fit in the family.”

“I was afraid that might be behind your swift mood change.”

“You should have told me sooner that I was adopted.”

“I know that now, but you were too young at first. By the time you were old enough, it didn’t seem worth the argument it would have caused with Hugh. Besides, you were always our son in our hearts. To tell you the truth, I don’t see how you can’t know that.”

“Did you insist Dad leave the house to me?”

“The subject never came up, Damien. You were the firstborn. The house was rightfully yours. Look, I know you had issues with Hugh at times. He was hard on you, but he loved you. I know telling you that isn’t getting through to you, but perhaps this will.” She handed him the letter and then turned and walked back to the house, leaving him to read it in privacy.

* * *

DAMIEN LEANED ON THE DOOR to the tack room as he read the letter.

Happy First Anniversary to my beautiful and dearly beloved wife.

Damien felt like an intruder as he read the proclamations of love written to his mother. It wasn’t until the last paragraphs that he realized why she’d given him the letter to read.

I’m still awed by the miracle of our son, Damien. You brought me love and a zest for life. Damien has brought me a reason to be an example of all that a man should be. I expected to love him. I never expected him to become the center of our life and for me to enjoy just watching and playing with him so much.

I just pray that we have a houseful of more sons and that we’ll love them just as much—if that’s even possible.

Damien reread the letter, more slowly this time, letting the words sink in. The fierce sense of betrayal faded a bit. Maybe he had overreacted and judged his father falsely. It would take time to work that out in his mind. But even he couldn’t deny that being a part of the Lambert family was embedded in his very soul.

He pushed the thoughts aside to deal with on another day. Right now, he had to make a few urgent decisions on how to ask Emma to be his wife, and he always thought better on horseback. He didn’t want to rush her. He’d give her all the time she needed.

God help him if it took too long. How many cold showers could he survive?

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, DAMIEN STILL hadn’t returned to the house. When Belle began to fret, Emma pulled a light blanket around her and walked into the backyard to soak up some sunshine. The cold spell had passed and the January temperature was flirting with the seventy-degree mark.

She walked to the swing and sat down, moving her feet just enough to create the gentle swaying movement that soothed Belle when nothing else could.

“You’re my miracle, Belle. If not for you, I would have never stayed on this ranch long enough to fall in love with Damien.”

She heard frootsteps behind her and spun around.

“So you love him? Isn’t that nice?”

Caudillo. Only this time the voice was more than a nightmare in her head.

She opened her mouth to scream, but Caudillo’s left hand closed over her lips. His right one pushed the tip of a knife between her shoulder blades and plunged it into her flesh. Hot, sticky blood ran down her back.

“Scream and I’ll kill the baby. You know I will, so don’t tempt me.” This time he let the knife cut along her arm, and the blood dripped onto her shoe and into the dirt.

“Now get up and start walking away from the house toward that cluster of trees. Your rope is waiting, my dear.”

Paralyzing fear ran ice-cold through her veins. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“And you’re supposed to be on Enmascarado Island.”

The terrifying truth infiltrated her horror. “You weren’t on that yacht when it blew up.”

“Now, how did you guess?”

“But you planned that explosion. You killed your own crew.”

“Everyone has to die sometime.”

“How did you fake the fingerprints?”

“Silly girl. Silly, silly girl. Money buys anything a man wants. I’m sure your new boyfriend knows that. Damien Lambert is one of the richest men in Texas. But you like money and yachts. That’s what attracted you to me.”

“Damien is nothing like you, Caudillo. Nothing.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, but it doesn’t really matter. You won’t live to find out. Now start walking.” The point of the knife plunged into the flesh between her shoulder blades and she felt a hot, sticky trickle of blood slide down her back. She walked as if in a torturous trance.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Emma. Of all the girls I chose, you are the one I might have cherished. And yet you were repulsed at my touch.” He shoved her again and she stumbled forward and into the cluster of trees.

“Now lay the baby on the grass and take off those horrid clothes that a real woman would never be caught dead in.” He chuckled at his own sick joke.

He was going to kill her. But not quickly. That wasn’t his style. She remembered the story of the woman he’d tortured, cutting off her breasts and then—

No. She would not let him paralyze her with fear when she had to save herself. She was not ready to die.

“If you want my clothes off, you’ll have to take them off yourself.”

He pushed her to the ground and put the knife to Belle’s chest. “Is this what you want?”

Her heart plunged to the depths of her soul. “No, don’t hurt Belle. Please, Caudillo. I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hurt Belle.”

She shed her clothes slowly. Only after she was naked did she look up and see the noose a few yards away, dangling from the branch of an oak tree. He’d torture her and then he’d hang her.

Damien would find her like that.

Caudillo always won.

Chapter Seventeen

Damien was dismounting when his cell phone rang. He started to ignore it, but then saw the call was from Carson Stile.

“I guess you’re calling to tell me that Caudillo is dead,” Damien said in lieu of a greeting.

“No, I’m calling to tell you he’s in the Dallas area near your ranch.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He used his ATM card to withdraw cash at that same hardware store where you talked me into buying those ridiculous spurs.”

Damien tossed the phone and raced into the house.

“What’s the rush?” Carolina asked when he crashed into her.

“Where’s Emma?”

“She took Belle outside. What’s wrong?”

“Outside where?”

“In the back. The last time I saw her she was walking toward that old tire swing.”

“Where are Tague and Durk?”

“They left in Tague’s pickup truck.”

“Stay in the house and lock the doors. And call Tague and Durk and tell them to get home on the double. I think Caudillo is heading this way.”

“I thought it was over,” Carolina cried. “I thought he was dead.”

Damien didn’t even think about stopping to explain. He grabbed the pistol that he’d kept handy last night and ran to find Emma.

Instead he found blood. Drops of it beneath the swing like crimson raindrops in the dirt. Oh, God, don’t let him be too late. If he’d let something happen to Emma…

Dread and adrenaline pushed him on, slowly, quietly, moving from tree to tree so he wouldn’t be seen.

And then he spotted Emma through the trees. She was naked, her hands and feet bound, her neck in a noose. Her feet were still on the ground, but the loose end of the rope was in Caudillo’s hand. One yank and her neck would break.

Belle was lying on the grass, eyes closed, not moving. Sick terror ground in Damien’s gut.