Son of a Gun (13 page)

She’d been crazy in love with Hugh from the day she met him. And even though they’d had their disagreements over the years, she was still in love with him. People kept telling her that time would ease the pain of losing him. Perhaps it would, but she hoped the memories never dimmed.

When the chocolate was hot, she moved it off the flame and checked the cookies. They were golden-brown.

She’d baked a lot more frequently when the boys were young. Now she stayed far too busy with her church and charity work—attempts to keep her from constantly grieving for Hugh. But she still loved lazy afternoons in her kitchen, especially when the whole family was around.

Hugh had called their old, marred kitchen table the heart of the family. It still was, she guessed, though without Hugh it seemed part of the heart was missing.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells divine.”

Carolina set the sheet of cookies on two hot pads and turned to respond to Emma. “Snickerdoodles and cocoa. Are you up for a break?”

“I am now that my mouth is watering.”

“Sit down at the table and I’ll pour us a cup of the hot chocolate.”

“I’ll get a plate for the cookies and some napkins,” Emma said.

“Just like a tea party,” Carolina said.

It amazed her how quickly she’d bonded with Emma. Actually, the news that Belle wasn’t her daughter hadn’t surprised Carolina in the least. She was much too awkward with Belle for the baby to be her child.

But Emma was loving and gentle with the infant, and that made up for any uneasiness she had handling Belle.

“I’m glad you shed that black wig,” Carolina said. “Your natural hair is so becoming.”

“Thanks. I was trying to blend in with the others who were being smuggled across the border.”

“Bringing Belle to her father was a very commendable and humane thing to do.”

“As was your taking us both in.”

“Like I told you, you and Belle are a blessing.”

“Actually, I need to ask another favor,” Emma said, “but feel free to say no if you’re busy.”

Carolina settled in a chair kitty-cornered from Emma. “What’s the favor?”

“Damien insists that he drive me to the closest urgent-care center just to have them take a look at my arm. I assured him it’s not necessary, but he says Blake recommended I get it checked out again today.”

“And you’d like me to watch Belle for you?”

“If you would. She’s asleep now, but she’ll probably wake for her bottle soon. I’d rather not take her around sick people who could have something contagious. She’s so tiny. I can’t bear to think of her getting ill.”

“I’ll be glad to watch her. In fact, I can think of no better way to spend the rest of the afternoon.”

“Hopefully, we won’t be gone too long.”

“You never know about those places, but don’t worry if it takes longer than expected. On the way home, have Damien stop at the pharmacy and pick up some more formula and diapers.”

“I will, and some more disposable liners for the bottles. Those work well.” Emma nibbled at her cookie. “There is one more thing I’d like to ask you about, and I’d really appreciate a truthful answer.”

“You’ll always get that from me, though I may lace my words with tact.”

“How do you really feel about my staying on here while the sheriff finishes his investigation? I know the situation is difficult, and if you’d rather I leave, I’ll go.”

Carolina trailed her fingers along the handle of her mug. “If you weren’t going to stay here, the sheriff would likely have arrested you. Jail is no place for Belle.”

“Belle wouldn’t have to go with me, not if you offered to look after her until her biological father is found or until I’m fully cleared and free to leave the area.”

The comment caught Carolina off guard and aroused her suspicions. “Why do I have the feeling there is something you’re not telling me?”

“It’s not that,” Emma said quickly. “I just don’t want to be here if you’re not comfortable with having me in the house.”

But Carolina was almost certain there was more behind the suggestion that she take responsibility for Belle. She loved having Belle around, but she wasn’t sure how she’d feel about taking care of her day after day, only to give her up to a stranger that she might not even like.

Emma might have those same fears, perhaps unconsciously. She certainly seemed to be attached to the infant.

“I like having both you and Belle here, Emma. Now go and get your wound checked out.”

Emma would make a wonderful mother one day. And with her ready smile, her ability to deal with problems and her graciousness, she’d make a fantastic wife. Carolina hoped Damien was taking serious note of that.

Unless Emma was fooling them all.

* * *

THE DOCTOR ON DUTY AT THE urgent-care facility had assured Emma that her arm was healing fine and recommended she have the stitches taken out in five days. After that, they’d made a quick stop at a Walmart, where Emma had stocked up on supplies for Belle and picked up some personal items for herself.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed without incident, though Emma had seen little of Damien since returning to the house. Other than coming to the table for dinner, he’d remained hidden away somewhere in the house. She didn’t know if he was avoiding her or researching Caudillo. Either way, she worried.

Durk had spent most of the time on the enclosed porch, pouring over legal documents and talking on the phone.

Tague, however, had made sure Emma was not neglected. He’d taken her with him to feed the horses and then fascinated her with stories about growing up on the ranch. He’d even asked to hold Belle, but he gave her back quickly when the smells coming from her diaper indicated poop duty. Emma had made quick work of remedying that.

“You smell like a baby now, though, don’t you, little sweetie?” Emma crooned as she lifted Belle to her shoulder for a burp.

When that was taken care of, she lay Belle in her beautiful antique cradle and rocked her gently. Belle’s eyes closed and in seconds she drifted off to sleep.

“Sweet dreams, my precious. Your mother loved you very much, Belle,” she whispered. “I hope your father makes sure you know that.” But fathers had a way of forgetting little girls exist, at least that was how it had been in her world.

Emma placed a kiss on Belle’s forehead and then dropped onto her bed, lying in the darkness as the events of the past two days skirted through her mind like slippery ghosts. She’d planned and plotted her eventual escape from the first minute she realized she’d been kidnapped. Never once did she imagine a man like Damien dropping into her life. Now that he had, she had no idea how to handle her feelings for him.

It was after two in the morning before she finally fell into a restless sleep.

She woke to the sound of her bedroom door creaking open. She opened her eyes and sat up in bed as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and the shadows creeping across the walls.

“Damien?”

“Yes. I’ve brought him to you, my beloved Emma.”

The voice was Caudillo’s. Dread cut off the blood supply to her brain, leaving her nauseous and dizzy.

“Where do you want this?”

Finally her eyes focused on the bloody head that rested in Caudillo’s hand.

Chapter Seven

Damien jerked awake to the bloodcurdling scream. Not bothering to pull on his jeans, he raced down the hallway, shoved open the door and burst into the guest room.

Emma was sitting up in bed, shaking so hard her teeth were rattling. Belle started to cry. Lights popped on throughout the house. Footfalls sounded from all directions.

Damien walked to the edge of the bed. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Emma jumped from the bed and picked up Belle, rocking her in her arms to console the startled infant.

“I had this nightmare, only it was so real. Caudillo was standing by the door holding…” Her voice broke so that she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“We heard screams,” Tague said from the doorway behind Damien.

“What’s wrong?” Durk asked.

Carolina pushed around them and into the room. “Is it Belle?”

“Belle’s fine. It was just a nightmare. I’m sorry I woke all of you.”

“I’m not surprised at the bad dream,” Carolina said, “not after what you’ve been through. Do you want me to take Belle?”

“No, really, I’m fine. And Belle has already stopped crying. Please, just go back to sleep. I feel bad enough that I woke you.”

“I second that,” Damien said. “All of you go back to bed. I’ll handle things from here.”

It wasn’t until they’d all left that he realized how presumptuous he’d sounded. Worse, he was standing in Emma’s bedroom in his boxers and her in the cotton nightshirt she’d picked up when he’d taken her shopping that afternoon.

He expected Emma to kick him out, as well. When she didn’t he dropped to the edge of the bed and watched her pace the room, rocking Belle in her arms.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

“Not so much,” she admitted.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m wide-awake now, and I’m a good listener.”

“How many nightmares do you want to hear about? Tonight’s or ten months’ worth?”

“As much as you feel like sharing.”

She placed Belle back in the cradle and sat on the opposite side of the bed from him. She rocked the cradle with one hand, turning so that she could look at him in the glow of moonlight that filtered through the windowpanes.

“There were lots of times over the last ten months when I feared Caudillo would drive me to the edge of madness. Tonight I thought he had.”

“I could hear that in your scream.”

“So you came running but stayed calm and in control. How did you ever learn so much about handling hysterical women?”

“I wouldn’t call you hysterical. In fact, you’re exceptionally levelheaded for a woman who’s been through ten months of captivity. You’ve even reached out to Belle and have become a lifesaver to her.”

“It’s more like we saved each other.”

When the rhythmic sounds of Belle’s breathing indicated she’d fallen back asleep, Emma propped her pillows against the headboard and scooted until her back pressed against them. She pulled the sheet up to her waist.

“You may as well get comfortable, too, Damien. Since you volunteered, this could turn into a long therapy session.”

Being in bed with Emma might be a lot of things, but he doubted comfortable was going to be one of them.

* * *

FIVE DAYS AGO, WHEN EMMA had tasted her first sweet breath of freedom, she’d fully expected to never share the horrid story of her months with Caudillo with another living soul. All she wanted was to push it to the deepest depths of her consciousness.

Any eventual communication with law enforcement would have been carried out anonymously, as if she were on the outside looking in. And that only after she felt safe.

Weirdly, from almost the first moment she’d met Damien Lambert, she’d felt the urge to let the details pour from her heart and her mouth. It made no sense.

Like Caudillo, Damien was wealthy and no doubt had an impressive realm of influence. But where Caudillo had faked a suave and cosmopolitan attitude, Damien was the real thing: rugged, with the swagger of a cowboy, the confidence of a man firmly fixed in his values and the manners of a gentleman.

And unbelievably protective. She’d expected it to be years before she felt at ease with a man. Now she was lying in bed with Damien and ready to open up.