Son of a Gun (8 page)

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Like frosting for the earth.”

Damien clicked on the low lights beneath the top cabinets. “Can I help you with something?”

“You can hold Belle while I mix her formula.”

“Are you sure you trust me with her? The babies I’m used to dealing with have four legs and weigh a lot more.”

Having taken care of any kind of baby put him one up on Emma. “Sit down first,” she said, “and I’ll hand her to you.” She fit the baby into his arms. An unfamiliar sensation zinged through her senses. She did her best to ignore it, but it lingered even when she’d walked away from Damien.

Once the bottle was ready, Emma took Belle from Damien and carried her to the rocker in the family room. The ashes in the fireplace still gave off a glow and a shimmer of heat. But even without that, the room was comfortable. And the light drifting from the kitchen gave off just enough illumination.

Damien joined her in the family room a minute later. She upped her guard, determined not to let his virility and protectiveness ignite any repeat sensations or increase in pulse.

Damien leaned against the hearth and looked down at her and Belle. “Did you call your husband and let him know you were safe?”

“I’m a single mom.” She assumed he and his family had figured that out from the absence of a wedding ring and the fact that she hadn’t mentioned a spouse. Damien was likely just fishing for information now, though she wasn’t sure why he’d care.

“What about Belle’s father?” he asked.

“We never married. Let’s just say I have bad luck in choosing men.” That part was definitely true. “What about you?” she asked. “Have you ever been married?”

“No. Guess you could say women have good luck in avoiding me.”

She doubted that. Rich. Rugged good looks. Hard bodied. Intelligent. That was not the kind of man women avoided.

“What about your father?” she asked. “No one’s mentioned him, but your mother wears a wedding band.”

“Dad died three months ago. He was flying home from a Cowboys game with some friends, and their small plane went down in a storm.”

“I’m so sorry for all of you. Poor Carolina. She must feel lost without him.”

“She does, but she has incredible strength.”

“I can tell, and an amazing spirit. I felt it the first time I saw her.”

“Mother was delighted to have you and Belle here tonight.”

“She took excellent care of us.”

“Give her a cause or someone to help and she throws herself into the task.”

“I have to admit that I’ve never met a family like yours, Damien. I’m a complete stranger, and yet you’ve all treated me like part of the family.”

“Rescuing a woman in distress is the cowboy way. So why don’t you tell me what really happened to your arm, Emma.”

Back to that. She should have known this was more than a casual conversation. “I
have
told you.”

“Who attacked you?”

She felt a traitorous urge to give him what he wanted, to just open her mouth and let the whole sordid tale spill out. But she didn’t dare. For his and his family’s safety as much as her own.

“Does it really matter, Damien? I’m leaving in the morning and you’ll never see me or have to worry about me again.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“Are you suggesting I stay? Why?”

“I think you’re in some kind of trouble and need help.”

She had to admit that it would be heaven to have a man like him to protect her.

Only he couldn’t. Even Damien Lambert was no match for Caudillo.

“I appreciate the concern, but you’ve read things all wrong. I truly appreciate your help tonight, but there’s no point in my staying.”

“If you change your mind, the offer still stands.” With that, he walked away.

* * *

EMMA WOKE AS THE FIRST rays of sun peeked over the horizon and sent brilliant spikes of light across the bed. She turned quickly to check the time, panicky that the alarm she’d set for seven-thirty had failed to go off.

Twenty-eight past seven. All was well. She punched the button to cancel the alarm and then rolled out of bed quickly to check on Belle. The infant was sleeping peacefully.

Perfect. That would give Emma time to get dressed before she had to give Belle her bottle. The car and driver she’d hired would be here at nine to pick up her and Belle and drive them into Dallas, unless the icy conditions closed the roads. In that case, the driver would be here as soon as he could make it.

Emma hesitated just long enough to glance out the window. The garden area had been transformed to a winter wonderland. Her awe at the beauty shifted to apprehension. What if the driver couldn’t get here for hours? What if Damien insisted on taking one of his four-wheelers to check on her car?

She couldn’t stay here once her lies were exposed. It was difficult enough merely facing Damien’s suspicions.

Belle was rooting around in the cradle by the time Emma was dressed. Emma watched her, her heart aching for the mother Belle had lost. For a second she wondered what would happen if she couldn’t find Belle’s father. She definitely couldn’t desert the child.

Except that Emma was running for her life, and if she failed to locate Juan Perez, she’d have no choice but to depend on social services to find Belle a loving home.

Only that didn’t always happen. Emma knew that all too well.

Emma picked up Belle and cuddled her against her chest as she kissed the top of the Belle’s sweet head. “I won’t abandon you, sweetheart. I’ll find your daddy. I don’t know how, but I will. I won’t give up until I do.”

Belle stretched and started poking her fists into her mouth again.

“Okay, so you’re worried about the more pressing needs of the moment—like food. I can handle that, too. Thanks to the Lamberts.”

Enticing odors of coffee and bacon met Emma’s nostrils before she neared the kitchen. But it was the voices that captured her attention. She found herself listening for Damien’s. She didn’t hear him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

She concentrated on what she had to say and forced a smile to her lips as she stepped into the kitchen.

“There you two are,” Carolina greeted, “just in time for breakfast.”

Emma scanned the room. Grandma Pearl and Sybil were both seated on one side of the long table, which was laden with eggs over-easy, steaming grits, crisp bacon, link sausage and a huge stack of pancakes.

Carolina scooted between Pearl and Sybil and added a warmer of syrup and a plate of butter to the mix.

“I seem to have an uncanny talent for appearing just in time to eat,” Emma said.

“That doesn’t take a lot of talent around here,” Tague said. “We spend a lot of time at the table. How about coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great.”

Belle began to fuss.

“We haven’t forgotten about you,” Emma said. “Your breakfast is coming up.”

“I’ll mix her formula while you drink your coffee,” Carolina said.

“You’ve probably done most of the cooking,” Emma protested. “You should eat while the food is hot.”

“I cooked the eggs,” Grandma Pearl said. “Hugh always said I was the best egg cook west of the Mississippi.”

“And Dad was right,” Tague said as he handed Emma her coffee.

“There’s sugar and cream on the counter,” Sybil said.

“Thanks, but I take it plain and black.”

Both Damien and Durk were conspicuously missing from the family meal. Emma resisted asking about Damien, but she couldn’t keep from eyeing the door.

“Damien and Durk took four-wheelers out to check on the livestock,” Carolina offered.

“They just wanted to play in the snow,” Sybil said. “They better get back in here if they don’t want to miss breakfast.”

Damien and Durk entered a few minutes later as if on cue, their faces red from the wind and cold. Damien met her gaze and a fluttering sensation swept through her. If it was attraction, it couldn’t have picked a worse time to surface.

“Food,” Durk said. “And I’m famished. Damien’s had me out working since sunup.”

“I don’t want you to forget the joys of ranching.”

“Riding those toys is not work,” Pearl said. “Back when your grandpa was ranching, he relied on horses instead of those noisy contraptions.”

Damien touched his grandmother on the shoulder as he made his way to the table. “Bet you’ll change your mind about my new four-wheeler when I take you for a ride on it.”

“Pshaw.” Pearl patted her puff of silvery-gray hair. “You won’t ever catch me on one of those senseless contrivances.”

Carolina returned to the table with a filled baby bottle. She set the bottle down next to Emma and turned to Damien. “Would you say grace?”

All heads bowed and the room fell silent except for Belle’s grunts and coos. Damien’s strong hand reached down and wrapped around Emma’s free one. A blush burned in her cheeks until she realized that everyone at the table had joined hands.

Damien’s strong voice filled the room. Warmth suffused Emma, along with a sense of rightness with the world that she hadn’t felt in years.

She knew she still had a long way to go before she’d feel safe or have any kind of peace. Caudillo had made certain of that. But hopefully this was the first step toward finding her way again.

“May I feed Belle?” Carolina asked, after Damien’s amen. “I munched while I cooked, so I’m not really hungry.”

“If you’d like to,” Emma said. It was the least she could do. Besides, she’d be on her own with Belle once the car arrived, and by night she’d likely be wishing for help with her.

Emma waited until they were almost finished with the meal before making the announcement that she’d been reviewing in her mind.

“I called my aunt. She insisted that my uncle drive out and pick me up this morning. I’m expecting him about nine unless the roads are impassable.”

“I’ll hate to see you go,” Carolina said, “but I know your aunt must be eager to see you.”

“She is, but I assured her that you were the most gracious hosts a wounded traveler could hope for. Oh, and she said that my uncle will check on the car and have it towed, if necessary.”

“Sounds as if you have everything under control,” Damien said. He pushed back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I still need to feed and water the horses.”

Her heart sank at the careless goodbye.

But it was for the best. No more zings of attraction to send her on a shaky emotional high. No more illusions.

No more Damien.

The phone rang as he carried his empty plate to the sink.

Carolina looked up from feeding Belle. “Can you get that, Damien?”

“Sure thing.” He picked up the cordless extension, glanced at the caller ID and then left the room before answering.

Emma glanced at her watch. It was twenty minutes before nine.

* * *

“THIS IS KELLY’S CHAUFFEUR Service. I’m supposed to pick up Emma Smith at Bent Pine Ranch this morning at nine o’clock, but there’s a major pileup out here on Interstate 35. Nothing’s moving. I mean nothing. It’s been one fender bender after another all morning.”

So there was no uncle driving out to pick Emma up. Another lie. But why? Was Emma afraid or just a psychopathic liar?

“I’ll see that she gets the message,” Damien said.

“I’m really supposed to talk directly to the passenger in a situation like this.”

“She’s not available right now. Why don’t you call back closer to nine?”