He snorted. “Unless you need help at night.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Pretend all you want, but if your ex arose from the dead and showed up here itching for a fight, I’d have to tell him to stand beneath the floodlights just to see his ugly face clear enough to punch it.”
Robin thanked God their situation would never escalate to that degree. But since she was glad Chuck died, did that make her the true monster?
Chapter 9
While Robin nursed Lark on the living room sofa, Laredo had volunteered to cook a simple supper of a ham steak he’d defrosted in the microwave along with boxed mac and cheese and canned green beans. They’d probably ingest more vitamins and minerals eating a handful of dirt, but at least they wouldn’t go to bed with growling stomachs.
By the time he’d finished, Robin had fed the baby, given her a quick bath, then dressed her in a fresh diaper and onesie before tucking her into the portable crib.
Laredo still felt awkward as hell about the way things had gone down in the truck. More than anything, he hated feeling vulnerable—correction, he hated showing anyone else that he was feeling vulnerable. Typically he was better able to hide his insecurities.
“Thank you for cooking.” She entered the living room, looking pretty but weary in gray sweatpants and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt that showed a glimpse of yellowish bruising until she yanked it up.
“Sure. No problem. Have a seat and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thanks.” She pulled out a chair and all but collapsed.
“Did the peanut fall right off to sleep?”
“You know it. She had a busy day.”
“We all did.” He set two heaping plates on the table, then doubled back for forks, knives and napkins. “Wish we had more of your stew. You’d win in a cook-off.”
“We’re not having a contest.” She still hadn’t picked up her fork. “Can we please stop dancing around the elephant sharing the seat beside me.”
“Remember? I can’t see.” He forked a huge bite and chewed.
“That’s not funny. I could be on the verge of an ugly custody battle.”
“You don’t know that.” He pushed his chair back. “Want a beer?”
“Yes, but unfortunately I can’t drink while nursing.”
“That sucks, but I applaud your dedication.”
He rejoined her before unscrewing the top of the longneck brew, then taking a deep swig. “Okay, the way I see it, we finish our meals, then I’ll open my laptop and we’ll check out those California laws. If we think your ex’s folks may have a legitimate claim, we’ll weigh your options. If not, we’ll weigh those options. Either way, there’s nothing we can do tonight, so we might as well enjoy our supper—as lackluster as it is.”
“If only all of this was that simple.”
“It is. From what you told me, I truly believe the worst is behind you.”
She nodded, but still didn’t eat.
He speared a few orange noodles with his fork, then reached across the table. Holding the food to her lips, he said, “Please...”
She took the bite and chewed.
After swallowing, she asked, “How much butter did you put in that? It tastes suspiciously naughty.”
“I figured you could use a little meat on your bones.”
“True. And thanks—not just for this delicious comfort food, but everything.” Her sad laugh shattered him. “First thing Monday morning, Lark and I will be gone.”
He took a moment for this to sink in.
All of it.
His mishmash of feelings for her and her daughter. The fact that she’d just lost her ex. No way was she ready for a new relationship—not that he was, either. Just sayin’.
“What are you thinking?” While moving her mac and cheese from one part of her plate to another, she didn’t meet his gaze.
“Nothing important.” Liar.
“Sorry to have dragged you into this mess. I never should have told you.” She shook her head. “I’m not even sure why I did.”
“Does it matter?”
Shrugging, she finally took a bite.
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Hang tight.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get my laptop.”
* * *
More than anything, Lark wanted to forcibly stop Laredo from ruining the sanctity of this place. This night.
Even with Chuck dead, she felt as if her nightmare with him might never end.
He’d been charismatic and charming when they’d first met. Attentive. Always bringing her little gifts meant to show how much he cared. In hindsight, they’d really represented the degree to which he studied her every move.
“Are you ready for this?” Laredo asked upon his return. He plugged in a slim computer, then rejoined her at the table.
“If I said no, would you stop?”
“I could, but would that do any good? If I’m going to help improve your situation, we kind of need to know what the situation is. Agreed?”
Swallowing the knot lurking at the back of her throat, she nodded. As soon as he typed custody rights + grandparents + California into his search engine, her stomach churned.
“How long have you been divorced?” he asked while sifting through results.
“A whole month. Chuck fought it, but I fought just as hard.” Not that the piece of paper documenting her freedom meant anything. He’d still come and gone as he liked and shared custody of Lark. If anything, the legalization of their split had upped his head game. He’d stalk her, waiting to catch her alone to deliver discreet blows. The few times her neighbor called police, he had ready alibis and alternate explanations of how she’d gotten her bruises. Falling. Running into the table edge. Slamming her arm in the car door. He’d so matter-of-factly explained it all away that she’d begun to fear for her sanity.
While Laredo typed and clicked, Robin’s pulse pounded.
She could just have easily searched for the information on her smartphone, but she hadn’t wanted to know.
This time free from her worries had been too precious to allow her past to intrude.
“I’m just scanning, but from what I’m seeing, for your in-laws to have a case, they’d have to prove you unfit.” He read more. “This is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I think you should go back to California. The fact that you took off without telling them could be a problem.”
The thought of returning to her trashed apartment made her shiver. She couldn’t do it. Chuck may be dead, but he would still be there—in every piece of broken furniture and every spilled drop of her blood.
“You okay?”
Tearing, she nodded.
“But see?” He went to her, dropping to his knees to clasp her hands. “Since you’re a great mom, as soon as you return to California—at least long enough to assure Lark’s grandparents that they’re welcome to see her—they should legally have no rights beyond basic visitation.”
“I should—go back. But...” Squealing tires and that blaring car horn reverberated through her head. Then she saw Chuck. Lifeless. Circled in blood. “I need more time—just to process everything I’ve been through. As soon as my car is fixed, I should be on my way to Arkansas. But that feels overwhelming, too.” Eyes closed, she sighed. “I’m tired. Exhausted on a soul-deep level. I’m not even sure if it’s safe for me to drive that far of a distance.”
“So stay—just for a little while. Till you feel better. Totally on your own terms.”
On her own terms...
Had there ever been a sweeter phrase in all of the English language?
How easy it would be to stay. How seductive. This place’s peace and isolation served as a healing balm. Laredo’s strength and support an even better medicine.
“Well?” He squeezed her hands.
After a slow exhale, she nodded.
But then shook her head. “Thank you so much for this offer. But I need time to think.” Breathe. “For now, let’s just pretend Lark and I are staying. I would insist on helping out. What would be our first task?”
“Clearly...” Releasing her hands, he settled back into the seat across from her. “Lark’s job description would be in a predominantly supervisory capacity. You and I would both report directly to her.”
“Of course.” Was it possible for a person’s soul to smile? She’d known him such a brief time, but Laredo made her happy.
Deep in her belly a warning chimed.
Her smile faded.
Chuck had once made her happy. They’d married after knowing each other only eight weeks. When it came to men, Robin’s instincts couldn’t be trusted. Why should her blossoming feelings for Laredo be different?
“What’s wrong? As Lark’s representative, if you feel the goats and chickens should also report to her, I’ll see what can be arranged.”
Robin forced a sad smile. Sad, because she wanted—craved—this lighthearted banter. She’d grown beyond weary of her gloomy day-to-day existence. Skittering like a scared mouse, always wondering when Chuck would next pounce. But for Lark’s sake, for her own, she had to slow this thing with Laredo—whatever it was.
“Your terms are more than adequate,” she said. “I just can’t rush into anything. Please understand this has nothing to do with you. I’ve only just emerged from a nightmare. I need a minute to fully wake.”
“I get it.” He reached across the table for her hand.
At first, she hesitated, but then she reached for him, too. When their fingers intertwined, the sensation was akin to coming home. An emotional sigh.
“When I realized the extent of my vision issues, I wasn’t sure how to react. As a SEAL, most missions are clandestine—carried out under a nice, dark cover. I used to love night. The way it provided a sort of superhero invisibility cloak. Now, I’ve been stripped of those powers and darkness is my enemy. I had to relearn everything. All I knew was how to be a soldier.”
“But look at you. This place is fantastic and given time, it’s only going to get better.” He stroked her palm with his thumb, striking a spark she feared could lead to an all-consuming fire. A womanly yearning clenched low in her belly. Her breath hitched and pulse quickened. How long had it been since she’d had a satisfying sexual experience? Too long. “You’re lucky—having a special place to call your own.”
He focused on their still clasped hands. “I used to think so, but truth is, I get lonely. I never planned on living out here on my own. Having you and Lark has been a welcome respite from reality. But if you stayed... Just long enough to build up your energy.”
He raised his gaze to meet hers. The intensity. The heat. It was all nearly too much to bear.
She licked her lips. “I’ll think about it. Promise.”
“No. I’m sorry.” He released her hand to close his laptop. “You’ve just emerged from a crisis. You should be with family. In fact, you and Lark could fly. I’ll deal with your car. Yes—family. That’s most important.”
What if in some crazy, topsy-turvy way you’ve become my family?
“Thank you.” When he’d given her an easy out, why did her throat tighten with disappointment. Was he regretting his offer? “It is probably best if I leave. I’ll drink plenty of coffee and should be fine to drive. Grandma and Grandpa are expecting me.”
“Of course.” He pushed back his chair. Grabbed both of their plates.
“Let me do that.” She also rose. “You cooked. It’s only fair I clean.”
“Not necessary.”
“Oddball confession time—washing dishes relaxes me. I love the warm, soapy water.”
He laughed. “For real?”
“Yep. Growing up, the dishwasher was me. Grandma and Grandpa would be in the living room, watching their shows or talking. Sometimes playing cards with friends. I loved hearing them happy and feeling part of our tight-knit family—however small.”
“They sound like good people.”
“They are. I miss them.”
“I’m sure they miss you. When’s the last time they’ve seen you and Lark?”
“They flew out for her birth. After the divorce, they urged me to return to their home, but per my custody agreement with Chuck, I couldn’t leave the county.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” She ran the water, putting her fingers beneath the flow, waiting till it warmed to put the stopper in the drain and add soap.
“But that’s no longer an issue.”
“Is it wrong that I’m not sad he died? He has friends and family. Parents who dearly loved him. Dozens if not hundreds of powerful friends in the entertainment business. None of them knew the monster he was.”
“Tell them.”
“What would be the point? He’s gone. I’m free. wouldn’t it be kinder to let them remember him in a happy way?”
“Not to you. Why did they think you divorced?”
“I told them irreconcilable differences. If I’d told the truth, he threatened to...” How long would it take his threats to stop circling her memories? Cross me, tell a soul about what you perceive to be the truth, and I’ll effing slit your throat. There won’t be a custody issue, because Lark will no longer have a bitch for a mother. I’ll let you have your divorce, but if you think you’ll ever leave me, you’re sorely mistaken. Wait—even better, I’ll slit Lark’s tiny throat in front of you... She shook her head and forced a smile. “Doesn’t matter. The nightmare is over and I’m ready to start my shiny new fear-free life.”
“I’m so sorry for what he put you through.” He carried the pots and pans from the stove. “Bastard should’ve rotted in a cell.”
“Can we please not talk about it?”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Quit apologizing for another man’s actions. You’ve been nothing but good to me and my daughter. You’ll never know how grateful I am.”
“Glad I was here to help.” He scooped the mac and cheese leftovers into a plastic container, then snapped on a lid.
“What should we do tomorrow? Since it’s our last day, you should put us to work.”
“How is Lark with a hammer?”
“Depends. Would you like her to lick it or use it for teething?”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll stick with having her supervise.”
“Good call.”
They shared a laugh. It felt amazing for the mood to have once again lightened.
Setting the last fork in the dish strainer, Robin asked, “What do you have planned for the hammer?”
“I thought we’d start my new goat shed. This heat won’t last forever, and once winter comes, those mamas will be awfully cold.”
“I’m happy to be your gopher, but I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be.”
“Relax. It’s not the Taj Mahal. Just a simple goat shed.”
For the briefest moment she closed her eyes, gripping the counter’s edge. When it comes to my mixed-up feelings for you, Laredo, nothing’s simple.
More and more she realized leaving him would be very hard.
* * *
As soon as the sun gifted him with enough light to see, Laredo, dressed in Wranglers and a white T-shirt, slapped on his cowboy hat, crammed his feet into his favorite black boots, then left the house to saddle Charger.
The tightness in his chest made him want to race the chestnut across the vast open space, galloping out his frustrations, but that wouldn’t be fair to his horse. With prairie dog and snake holes, he couldn’t take a chance on the beast being hurt.
Instead, he followed his favorite trail winding north of the house until circling a butte through sagebrush, milkweed and sun
flowers. This early, the sun kissed the butte’s reddish-orange face to such an extent that it glowed.
Charger knew the familiar trail and followed it to the top, where he also knew Laredo would climb off, leaving him free to graze on the sweet clover patch thriving alongside the red rocks where Laredo did his best thinking.
With no wind and a sky so blue he could see clear to forever, when Laredo finally left his horse and took a seat, he’d already begun to feel better.
It had been a long night—entirely caused by trouble of his own making. What had he been thinking, inviting Robin and her baby to stay? As much as he’d enjoyed their company, he barely knew the woman.
Hell, he’d been married to Carrie and couldn’t make that work. What made him think he was ready for a live-in relationship with a stranger?
He wasn’t.
Which was why he’d been relieved when she turned down his offer. The problem that had kept him up all night was wondering why, then, that relief had turned to dread for her and the baby’s eventual leaving.
Lord, he was tired of being alone. Eating alone. Riding alone. Gardening alone. That was the sole reason he was so worked up about this issue, right?
Surely, any woman would do.
Only, if that was true, then how come he hadn’t taken up Lulu on her not-so-subtle offers? Or any of the other single ladies in town? As much as he hated to admit it, something about Robin touched him in a long-forgotten place he never thought he’d see again.
She made him want to do better—more. Get the house spit-shined and polished. Maybe plant a few flowers. Put a fresh coat of paint on the house and front-porch swing where they could while away long summer nights.
But because she was leaving, none of that would happen. And that was okay. It wasn’t as if he’d die if she didn’t stay. If anything, his energy would be better spent improving things that mattered. Not the house, but the garden and goats and learning to put up his crops for winter.
Yes. That was a solid plan.
A realistic plan.
So why did he still feel like shit?
* * *
Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy SEAL Page 9
