The Colton Ransom (4 page)

Her grin only grew wider, as if she were harboring a secret and he didn’t have the first clue what it was. “You come on all mean and tough,” she told him, “but deep down inside, there’s this other layer—”

“—that’s just as mean and just as tough,” he concluded with finality. Placing a wide palm on each armrest, he pushed himself out of his chair and to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got rounds to make. With the ranch this empty, it would be a perfect time for some yahoos to come barging in and try to steal something or do something they shouldn’t.”

Holding the sleeping infant to her cheast, Gabby put a protective hand around Cheyenne and looked at him, a little of her smile fading. Up until now, she’d felt incredibly safe here at home. Now he was giving her cause if not for alarm, then at least for concern.

“You really think there’s something to worry about?” she asked.

He shrugged, his wide shoulders rising and falling in an asymmetrical movement. “Better safe than sorry, I always say. The guy next door isn’t looking to ‘love his neighbor.’ He’s looking to take advantage of his neighbor, maybe steal from him if that neighbor happens to be rich—like you and your family,” he added pointedly.

The expression on his face left no room for argument.

She did anyway. It had never been in her nature to accept pessimism at face value. “That’s a horrible way to look at life,” she protested.

“Horrible?” He pretended to consider the word, then dismissed it with a “Maybe.” Trevor said the word for her sake. He didn’t consider it horrible at all. To him, it was just the way life was. “But realistic?” he continued. “You bet. The sooner you wrap your head around that, Miss Colton, the sooner you’ll be able to come face-to-face with reality.”

Gabby raised her chin. “I don’t like your reality, Mr. Garth.”

He surprised her by saying, “Me neither. But that doesn’t change the facts as I see them,” he told her.

“If that’s what you think, then it’s no wonder you’re always scowling,” she told him.

“Wasn’t aware that I was,” he lied. “Now, you got anything else you want to tell me, or can I go on my rounds?”

“Only that it wouldn’t hurt you to try to change your attitude a little, look on the bright side once in a while.”

“I will when they get a little brighter,” he answered, picking up his Stetson from his desk.

“They?” she questioned.

“The bad guys,” he clarified, then added, “The ones I’m providing your family security against. Your rosy world would be real to me if these guys went away.” He brought the irony full circle.

Gabby sighed and tried one more time, feeling as if there were more at stake here than just winning a philosophical argument. She had the distinct impression that the state of his soul was in play here.

Trevor just couldn’t be satisfied being this disgruntled, this dark in his outlook, in his take on life, she thought. Could he?

There had to be a way to get through to him, to get him to come around, even if only a little, to her mind-set. There just
had
to be.

To that end, Gabby began racking her brain to find it.

“Maybe there aren’t as many bad guys as you think,” she told him, adding that she needed just a little more time to get this right and convince him, bring him around to her way of thinking—or at the very least, a little closer to her way of thinking.

“And maybe there are a lot more of them than
you
think,” he countered. His eyes seemed to pin her in place for a moment, leaving her nowhere to turn away. “Did you ever consider that?”

Rather than cave, she answered firmly, “No,” as she tossed her head for emphasis.

“Didn’t think so,” he muttered under his breath as he tipped the brim of his hat to her. With that, he left the room.

“There goes one unhappy man, Cheyenne,” she murmured softly to the baby in her arms.

Cheyenne just continued sleeping. The baby didn’t know how lucky she was.

Chapter 3

H
e supposed, in an odd sort of way, he had to admire the youngest Colton woman, Trevor thought approximately an hour later as he started to head back to his office once again.

Dumb though the subject of her focus seemed to him, Gabriella Colton
did
appear to know what she wanted, what she believed in.

And, more impressively, she’d actually stood up to him rather than cave in the face of his disapproving judgment of those beliefs she held so dear.

Not all that many people actually stood up to him when push came down to shove. He had a way of making people back off without his having to resort to physical action. Just his attitude—coupled with a dark, contemptuous scowl—usually did the trick.

Despite her soft, attractive appearance, Gabby Colton was one hell of a feisty female; he’d have to give her that.

Now, as far as being smart, well, that was a whole different story, Trevor mused as he made his way back across the grounds.

How the hell she could believe in goodness and light when she was surrounded by all sorts of wheelers and dealers, not to mention people like her old man, a black-hearted, womanizing devil if ever he’d come across one, was just beyond him.

Granted, there were good people here on the ranch, like Faye, who’d raised him when there was nothing in it for her beyond being guilty of a good deed, and like her sister Amanda, the baby’s mother, whose only sin was letting herself be sweet-talked by the wrong guy.

But then there were people around like her father’s third ex-wife, Darla, and Darla’s two adult kids from some previous marriage, Tawny and Trip. All three were worthless parasites, one worse than the other, in his opinion.

He still couldn’t figure out why the old man allowed those three to stay on. Ordinarily, he would have expected Jethro to send all three of them packing the second the ink had dried on the divorce papers—ending a marriage that had barely managed to pass the one-year anniversary. Instead, the old man had set the trio up to live in one of the extended wings.

Trevor laughed shortly. That kind of thing clearly smelled of blackmail to him. Which meant one of the three—most likely Darla—had something to hold over the boss’s head—which in turn meant that the old man had done something pretty damn bad.

Not that that surprised him.

The lot of them, Darla, Tawny and Trip, weren’t worth even a plugged nickel. They just didn’t fit in with the rest of them. All three of them looked as if they’d been transplanted from some bad, made-in-one-afternoon movie about grifters. They reminded him of vultures, circling carrion and just waiting for it to die so they could swoop down and tear off its flesh. He didn’t trust any of them any farther than he could throw them. Less. And yet there was starry-eyed Gabby, not just
talking
about starting up a center for troubled teens but actually
working
toward that goal and trying to convince the old man to have the center built right here, converting an old barn he had on his property.

That kind of drive either took an absolute fool—which he didn’t think Gabby was—or it took someone who saw only the good in people.

He figured it had to be the latter.

That made her too good to deal with the likes of the majority of the people living on or around the Dead River Ranch.

Frowning, Trevor shrugged away the thought. This was way too complicated for him to sort through, and it was pointless to waste his time that way. It was what it was, and besides, he had his own dilemma to untangle and come to grips with, namely what to do with the kid he was suddenly saddled with.

If he experienced any parental stirrings toward her—she
was
rather cute when she wasn’t crying—he banked them down. He—and more importantly, she—couldn’t afford to have them. It just wasn’t in the little girl’s best interest to remain here, so there was no sense in allowing himself to feel anything at all for her.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would make a really poor father, and a kid needed a father—and a mother, too, something else he couldn’t give Avery. As far as he saw, the only logical conclusion to be reached was that Avery needed to be adopted and raised by someone other than him—preferably
two
“someones.”

In the interim, maybe he should get over his pride, stop trying to handle this on his own and ask Faye for help, Trevor thought. She’d always been the sensible one, stable even when everything else looked as if it was just going to hell in the proverbial hand basket. She’d stepped right in not just in his case, but also when the Colton girls’ mother, Mandy, decided to take off, leaving the ranch—and them—ten years ago. It was Faye who made sure they didn’t lack for attention, didn’t feel abandoned. Faye would know what he needed to do to ensure that Avery was not just looked after, but well taken care of, too.

After all, he didn’t just want to dump the kid. None of this was her fault. She hadn’t asked to be born, right? Trevor reflected silently. Just like
he
hadn’t asked to become a father.

Life had a way of making things happen, but he didn’t have to just stand there and take it. There had to be options, decent options, he reasoned, in order to make things right.

He and Faye would find Avery a good home and that would be the end of it.

With his game plan roughly in place, Trevor went into his office. There was some paperwork he still needed to catch up on. It was his least favorite thing to do, but he decided that he might as well utilize the peace and quiet he found himself in while it lasted. He’d be listening to Avery howl soon enough.

* * *

Trevor glanced at his watch and realized that at this point he’d had over two hours of sweet silence and freedom from the daunting burden of fatherhood. He wasn’t exactly eager to get caught up in it again, but on the other hand, he’d never been one to shirk his responsibilities, no matter how oppressive or annoying they might be.

Maybe he’d be lucky and Avery would still be sleeping, although he sincerely doubted it. In the short time he’d had the infant, he couldn’t remember a single instance when Avery had slept more than ninety minutes at a clip, much less over two hours. To expect that it could go on indefinitely was just plain wishful thinking on his part and completely unrealistic.

Trevor sighed as he pushed himself away from his desk and squared his shoulders. Time to face the music.

Literally.

Since Gabby was so good with kids and didn’t seem to mind being around them, maybe he’d see if he could get her to volunteer her services again—soon. Oh, he wouldn’t come out and actually
ask
her to mind Avery for him, but if he happened to show up somewhere in her vicinity and Avery was howling like last time, he had a pretty good hunch that Gabby would take it upon herself to put the kid—and him—out of their misery and just take over. She wasn’t the type to leave well enough alone or ignore a situation that needed remedying. He figured she had what they called a type A personality and just couldn’t help herself when it came to taking over.

Trevor smiled to himself as he left his office and went toward the main wing of the house.

Who knew, maybe some kind of a satisfactory arrangement could even be reached between him, Gabby and Faye regarding Avery. Then he wouldn’t have to give her up for adoption.

Have to?

The phrase he’d just used came echoing back to him in his head.

Since when did he
have to
give the kid up for adoption? He
wanted
to give her up for adoption, he reminded himself.

At least, that was what he
thought
he wanted.

Damn it, the situation he was facing was getting him all jumbled up inside, he thought, annoyed with himself as well as the situation. He’d been spun around so many times, he didn’t know which way was up, which way was down anymore.

That had to change.

The kid was going up for adoption and that was that, he concluded. He couldn’t be a dad—who did he think he was kidding to even
consider
that? He
never
undertook anything unless he thought he had a chance of getting it right. There was no chance like that in this case. He had no example to follow, no fond memories to tap into. He certainly wasn’t about to emulate the father who’d dumped him on the Colton doorstep.

Annoyed, Trevor blew out a breath as he came closer to the nursery. This whole thing was getting damn confusing and really
way
out of hand. He had to stop overthinking it. He was going to put Avery up for adoption and that was that.

As Trevor drew closer to the closed door, nothing but a wall of silence greeted him. The corners of his mouth curved slightly.

He assumed the kid was still asleep after all.

That had to be a good sign. Maybe keeping her around wouldn’t be all that ba—

His thoughts were abruptly shut down as a scream suddenly tore through the silence.

The scream, followed by another, louder one, was coming from the nursery.

Instantly, Trevor broke into a run before the full import of the scream and what it could mean had a chance to sink in.

The door was unlocked and he yanked it open. The first thing he saw was Gabby on her knees in the middle of the nursery.

Obviously struggling to regain control over herself, Gabby was staring at the body she was kneeling over. Blood pooled around the body’s upper torso and it was steadily leaching into Gabby’s jeans where she was kneeling.

She didn’t seem to realize it.

Drawing closer, Trevor looked at the victim’s face. His lunch swiftly rose in his throat, threatening to come out, and he felt as if someone had stuck a hot poker into his gut and was twisting it.

The body on the floor was Faye. The short black hair she always kept so neatly was in complete disarray, a casualty of the physical struggle that had obviously taken place. Small-boned and slender, it was apparent that she had still fought like a tiger.

And lost.

There was no pulse when he felt for it in the woman’s neck. The expression on her lifeless face was a combination of anger and horror.

The exact same emotions he was now feeling, multiplied by ten.

Trevor realized that Gabby was desperately trying to stop the flow of blood from the woman’s chest with her hands. Both were covered with Faye’s blood. It was a futile undertaking.

“She’s dead,” he told her, his tone harsher than it should have been in order to mask his own pain.

“No, she’s not,” Gabby insisted frantically through her tears. “She’s alive.” Her tears fell, mingling with the dead woman’s blood. “We can keep her alive! Maybe if we—”

Trevor didn’t let her finish. Instead, grasping the back of her collar, he physically pulled Gabby away from the lifeless body.

“She’s dead,” he repeated a bit more gently this time, stepping back from his own grief and seeing the pain and tears that were in Gabby’s eyes. “There’s nothing you can do for her now,” he told her, drawing Gabby up to her feet.

Gabby’s knees suddenly buckled, giving way. Reacting, Trevor caught her and pulled her against him without thinking. For an instant, Gabby broke down, sobbing and clutching on to him for support.

“Who could have done this to her?” she asked between sobs. “Why would anyone want to hurt Faye? She was always so good to everyone.”

“I don’t know,” he answered, seething. There was now an entire myriad of emotions rushing and flashing through him like so many fireworks on a collision course.

As he stroked Gabby’s hair in an awkward attempt to comfort the sobbing woman, he looked around the rest of the room.

And suddenly froze.

This isn’t right.

“Where’s the kid?” he asked Gabby sharply.

Pulling herself together, Gabby drew her head back, blinked several times to clear her vision and then turned in the direction of the crib.

Her brain muddled by grief and confusion, she wasn’t sure she’d heard his question correctly.

“What?” she asked thickly.

“The kid.
My
kid,” Trevor bit off with harsh emphasis. Dropping his arms from around Gabby as if he hadn’t just paused to give her comfort, he strode quickly over to the fancy, canopied crib. “Where’s my kid?” he demanded hotly.

The crib was empty.

Trevor swung around to glare at Gabby, waiting for her to offer some sort of an answer.

“I thought you said that you put Avery down in this crib.” It came out sounding like an accusation, not a question.

“I did,” she cried.

Everything inside of her was shaking. Seeing Faye on the floor, bloodied and motionless, had blocked out everything else. She hadn’t even realized that the crib was empty or that the baby was missing.

Oh, God, how could she have missed that?

“I just came in to check on her when I saw Faye—when I saw Faye—”

Gabby couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. A sob threatened to break free in her throat and it took everything she had to get herself under control and push it back down.

Like a man trapped in a nightmare not of his own making, Trevor moved back to the crib again. This time he realized that although there was no baby in it, the crib wasn’t completely empty. One of the knitting needles he recognized as belonging to Faye was stabbed into an embroidered pillow.

The knitting needle was anchoring down a note.

His first impulse was to rip the note away from the pillow, but he forced himself to refrain. He knew that the chief of police would need the note untouched, the better to dust the surface for any fingerprints, partial or otherwise. The slightest piece of evidence could eventually lead them to Faye’s killer.

And he wanted to slowly fillet whoever that turned out to be.

Very carefully, making sure not to touch anything and consequently add to the fingerprints he knew had to already be on the paper, Trevor leaned in over the crib and read what was written in block letters on the note: WAIT FOR RANSOM INSTRUCTIONS. ONE MISSTEP, THE KID’S DEAD.

It wasn’t until he stepped back that he realized Gabby was right behind him. He wound up backing right into her. The imprint of her body against his back registered without warning.