Cowboy's Vow to Protect

by Carla Cassidy

  She sank down on the edge of the bed and moved her hands across her stomach in a caressing motion. She didn’t know what might happen, but somehow, someway, she needed to assure her baby a future.

  Once again she thought the best course of action might be to not only ignore the investigation of Brad but actually recant her accusations against him. Maybe that would assure not only her safety, but that of her baby’s, too.

  She shoved these troubling thoughts away. She needed to finish up dressing, otherwise Flint would be waiting for her. She finally proclaimed herself ready and left the bedroom.

  Flint stood at the front window and turned as he heard her approach. “You look really nice,” he said.

  “Thank you. You clean up rather well yourself.” Actually he cleaned up more than well. He looked totally hot in his jeans and a navy Polo shirt that made his slightly shaggy hair appear blonder than usual.

  He wore his shoulder holster and grabbed a lightweight navy blue jacket and put it on. What a couple they made...his jacket hid his gun and her sweater hid her growing baby bump.

  Still, for a moment she fantasized they were a real couple going out for a nice dinner after a long day. They would visit with friends and talk about silly stuff and laugh together and then come home and make sweet love.

  “I’m going to make a quick run down the lane by myself and then I’ll come back to get you,” he said.

  His words instantly shattered the fantasy as she was jerked back to the here and now and her current situation. “Then I’ll just wait for you in here.”

  A few minutes later she watched as Flint’s truck drove away from the cabin and disappeared from view. Nerves jumped inside her and anxiety grew as she waited for him to return. Her concerns mounted with each minute that ticked by. Finally, relief fluttered through her as he came back into view. He pulled to a halt in front of her and waited for her to climb into the passenger seat.

  “Everything seems to be quiet,” he said.

  “Quiet is good.” She pulled her seat belt around her and fastened it as he took off back down the lane. Her heart quickened its rhythm as they reached the spot where the bullets had flown at her a week before.

  They passed the spot without incident and continued on to the road that would lead to Bitterroot. Finally, she relaxed back into the seat.

  She rolled down her window and drew in a deep breath of the fresh air. “It feels good to be out again,” she said. Thankfully, Larry Wright had come to the cabin a day after the shooting with two men and a new window for Flint’s truck.

  “It does,” he agreed. “It’s a beautiful evening.”

  It was indeed a gorgeous evening. The sky was a clear blue without a cloud to be had. The sun hung low in the western sky and promised a stunning sunset.

  “I can’t imagine prettier sunsets in any other place in the world than what we have here in Oklahoma,” she said.

  “I definitely agree with that,” he replied. “Hopefully, there will be beautiful sunsets wherever you eventually wind up if you decide to leave Bitterroot.”

  She didn’t reply. Certainly, there was no way she could remain here now that she’d come forward with her accusation of Brad. As long as he freely walked the streets of the town she couldn’t remain here.

  Even if she recanted now, which she was leaning toward doing, he’d still make it impossible for her to remain here. She would always be afraid of repercussions. And what might he do when he found out she had a baby?

  His family had plenty of money and she seriously doubted she could fight them if it came to a custody battle. They would make her out to be an unfit mother and she wouldn’t have the resources to fight them.

  It didn’t escape her that the baby would be proof positive that something sexual had happened between them, but she wasn’t about to use the baby to prove her case. Besides, Brad would just lie and say that the sex between them had been consensual.

  She fought against a heavy veil of depression that threatened to fall over her. She was so confused about everything going on in her life.

  “You’re very quiet.” Flint broke through her thoughts.

  “I’m overthinking things,” she confessed.

  He cast her a quick glance. “Stop doing that. It causes you to frown and I want you looking forward to dinner out with a smile on your face.”

  Despite her earlier thoughts, his words caused a smile. “Okay, I’ll stop. I really am looking forward to dinner out.”

  “Is there anything you’re particularly hungry for?”

  She thought about all the offerings on the café menu. “I think I want a juicy cheeseburger with a side of fries. And then for dessert maybe a piece of that chocolate cake with the salty caramel frosting.”

  He laughed. “That sounds like a tall order for a little bit like you.”

  “Ah, but remember I’m eating for two.”

  He laughed again, and she wondered if she would ever grow tired of the rich, deep sound. “What are you looking forward to ordering?”

  “Spaghetti...with a couple of meatballs on the side.”

  “Ah, someday I’ll make you my homemade sauce and I’ll make meatballs that will knock your socks off,” she replied.

  “Sounds good to me,” he replied.

  They fell silent as they entered the town. The parking spaces in front of the café were already filled with cars and trucks and he had to find a spot a half a block away.

  “Sit tight, I’ll come around to let you out,” he said once they were parked.

  She waited and once she was out of the truck, Flint flung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side. While she wished it was love that had him being so affectionate, she knew he was protecting her from the potential danger that might come at them while they were exposed on the sidewalk.

  He dropped his arm from around her as they entered the busy café. At least in here they could both relax because the odds of anyone coming after her were minimal with all the other diners as witnesses.

  Once again she was aware of the whispers and gazes that followed them as they moved to an empty booth in the back. What were they all saying about her? What did they believe about her? She raised her chin as if to ward off any judgment that might come her way.

  He gestured her toward the seat that would have her back to most of the other people in the café while he sat across from her, facing those people and the front door.

  They had been seated for only a couple of minutes when Becky Davis, a pretty young brunette, came to wait on them. “How are you all this evening?” she asked as she handed them menus. She smiled at Madison. “Maddy, you look real pretty. That blue sweater is really nice on you.”

  “Thanks,” Madison replied in surprise. At least there was one person in town who could still be nice to her. Hopefully, there were others.

  “Tell me what you all want to drink and then I’ll be back to get your food orders,” Becky said.

  Minutes later they had their drinks and Becky had taken their food orders. “I don’t think the gawkers are as bad this time as the last time we came here,” she said.

  He smiled. “We don’t care about gawkers or gossipers, do we?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t care about much of anything when he smiled at her with that special something in his eyes that sluiced a sweet warmth through her. He held her gaze for a long moment and then looked down at his drink.

  Why was it that there were times when he looked at her that she thought she saw love in the depths of his eyes? And then other times she saw a distance there that felt insurmountable.

  Confusion about Flint aside, there was no question that she was still considered some kind of pariah. They had passed several people she knew when they’d come in, but nobody stopped by their booth to say hello.

  Although it bothered her a bit, it bothered her
more for Flint. She’d seen him when he came into the grocery store and had noticed how often he was greeted and stopped to chat for a few minutes by other shoppers. He’d been so well liked before all this, and now nobody was talking to him because he was with her.

  “Hey, there’s that frown again.” His deep voice broke through her thoughts.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking how nobody has talked to you since we got here and I know it’s all my fault. If you weren’t here with me I know people would be stopping by to greet you and talk to you.”

  “Do I look upset? Madison, I don’t care about the people who don’t talk to me. I care about my friends, who believe in what I’m doing and believe your claims. I care about you and I’m not going to lose any sleep because these acquaintances decided not to talk to me. Now, no more frowning for the rest of the night, deal?”

  “Deal,” she replied. How did she get so lucky to have Flint on her side? He was so comfortable in his own skin, so sure about his friendships and what he was doing in his life. He would never know the depth of her admiration for him.

  At that moment Becky returned to the booth with their dinner orders. “Mmm, these fries are heavenly,” she said a few minutes later. She dragged another one of the potatoes through a pool of ketchup and then popped it into her mouth. “I figure it’s one for me and then one for the baby.”

  Flint grinned at her. “So what you’re telling me is you’re really only taking personal responsibility for eating half of the fries.”

  “Exactly,” she replied with a laugh.

  “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”

  “I don’t care. As long as the baby is healthy that’s all that really matters.”

  “Which reminds me, we need to get you a doctor appointment. Have you decided who you want to see?” Flint swirled his fork in his spaghetti and then took a bite.

  “I’m leaning toward Dr. Clayton Rivers. I know he delivered a baby for McKenzie Warren, who used to work at the grocery store, and she was really pleased with him.”

  “Clayton is my doctor and I like him,” Flint replied. “I’m sure we can trust him. Tomorrow I’ll call and see if we can get you set up with a late-night appointment. I’m also certain he will respect your privacy and not gossip about your condition.”

  “Hey, you two. I didn’t know you had plans to eat out this evening,” Mac said as he appeared by their booth.

  “We didn’t know it until about an hour before we came,” Madison replied.

  “What are you doing here instead of having dinner at the ranch?” Flint asked his friend.

  “Cookie served up sloppy joes tonight so I talked Jerod into coming here for dinner,” Mac replied.

  Flint laughed. “You never did like Cookie’s sloppy joes.”

  “I don’t know what it is, but he uses something in the sauce I don’t like. We’re headed to the Watering Hole after we eat. Do you two want to tag along?”

  Oh, there was nothing Madison would like more than to head to the most popular bar in town. They could listen to the music and then perhaps Flint would take her in his arms, hold her close and move her around the dance floor.

  “Thanks, but with the way things are right now I think it’s best we just head on home after we eat,” Flint replied.

  “I’m keeping you from doing the things you like to do,” Madison said when Mac had moved away from their booth.

  “What? Going to the Watering Hole? There were plenty of nights I stayed home when the rest of the cowboys would head to the bar for drinking and dancing. I’ve never been a big drinker. Not going isn’t a big loss for me, Madison.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “Now, how about I get Becky over here to take our dessert order? I believe you wanted a big piece of that chocolate cake.”

  She looked down at her nearly empty plate and then patted her stomach. “Oh, I don’t know. It sounded good before I ate a big cheeseburger and all those fries. I’m pretty full right now.”

  “I’m going to order a piece of apple pie and some coffee.”

  “Oh, what the heck, I can stuff in at least a few bites of cake,” she replied with a laugh.

  Minutes later they had their dessert before them and their conversation turned to favorite desserts. “There’s nothing I like better than apple pie,” he said.

  “I’ll make you an apple pie that you’ll never forget,” she replied confidently. “You should have told me before now that it was one of your favorite desserts.”

  “You’ve been making me such good suppers I haven’t even thought about dessert. And speaking of that, I need to write you a check that you can put toward getting your car fixed, although I hope you stick around here long enough to see through the charges against Brad.”

  Every single word he spoke depressed her and reminded her of her position right now. “I told you I might not go through with it. I’m still thinking about recanting and just letting it all go.”

  “You know I’ll support you whatever you decide,” he said softly. “But no matter what you do, I hope you talk to somebody to help you with your nightmares.”

  Once again his gaze held hers and she wanted to fall into the green depths that were so inviting. She didn’t want to think about Brad Ainsworth or getting her car fixed. She didn’t want to think about leaving Bitterroot. All she wanted to do was go home to the cabin and be with Flint again.

  As they finished eating their dessert the conversation grew lighter as he entertained her with stories of the antics of him, Mac and Jerod when they’d been younger.

  “The original twelve of us were all close, but Mac and Jerod and I had a deeper friendship. We didn’t spend a lot of time talking about our pasts. We worked hard during the days, but when work knocked off for the day we were involved in a lot of mischief.”

  “Like what?” she asked, as always loving to hear about his time as a kid on Cass’s ranch.

  “We all knew Sawyer had kind of an OCD issue with his bed. He didn’t like wrinkles in his sheets and so the three of us were responsible for sneaking things into his bed.”

  “Things?”

  “Yeah, like dead fish and live frogs and stinky cheese...things like that.”

  “Oh, Flint, that’s terrible,” she exclaimed with a laugh.

  He grinned. “Yeah, it was pretty rotten of us to do. Eventually, the others got involved and it was still happening until he moved off the ranch.”

  “Does this mean I need to start checking my bed before I go to sleep at night?”

  “No,” he replied with a laugh. “I promise you I outgrew that particular kind of mischief.”

  By this time they had finished eating and Flint paid the tab. Then they left their booth and walked back toward the entrance.

  “Bitch,” somebody muttered loud enough for her to hear.

  “Lying bitch,” another male voice half shouted.

  “Leave town,” yet another male voice said.

  She had no idea who had said the hateful things. Even though tears began to burn her eyes, she held her head up high and didn’t look left or right. She was conscious of Flint moving closer to her side, but his presence couldn’t take away the sting of the hurtful words.

  The minute they stepped outside she turned to face Flint. “I want this over. I can’t take anymore. As soon as we get home I’m calling Dillon and telling him I lied about Brad.”

  She whirled around and started down the sidewalk toward where they had parked. She was so over it. She was tired of being judged, of not being able to go out in public without condemnation and threat of death. If she recanted and just left Bitterroot, it would solve everything.

  Flint walked beside her and didn’t say a word. It was as if he knew her well enough to know when to just be quiet. She also knew he would stand beside her no matter what she did. She just wanted this to all go away.

  They reached his
truck and there was a folded piece of paper beneath the windshield wiper on the passenger side. She stared at it, a sense of dread sweeping through her.

  What now? A death threat in writing? She drew a deep breath and pulled it out from the windshield wiper. Her fingers trembled as she opened it, her vision aided by a nearby streetlight.

  Thank you for coming forward. Brad beat and raped me, too.

  The bold, dark letters screamed in her head. She’d always suspected it was possible Brad had other victims in town. However, the idea had been abstract in her brain. This note made it real. It was proof positive that there were other victims.

  “What is it?” Flint asked.

  She handed him the note and at the same time looked around the area. Who had left it for her? What poor, innocent young woman had suffered at Brad’s hands just like Madison had?

  There was nobody on the street. Had it been somebody who had been in the café with them? A diner? Or maybe one of the young, pretty waitresses? It was obviously somebody who was afraid, otherwise she would have signed the note. And how many other victims were there hiding in the shadows of fear in this town? And how many more potential victims would there be in the future if she didn’t do the right thing?

  Somebody had to speak up for them. Somebody had to do something in an effort to stop Brad. And if she didn’t stop him now then she would be partially responsible for any future victims.

  She got into the truck and waited for Flint. He slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine. “Before we go home I want to go to the police station. We need to give this note to Dillon and I need to tell him I’m completely committed to getting Brad behind bars.”

  “Good girl,” Flint murmured and handed the note back to her.

  As he pulled out of the parking space and headed down the street toward the police station, her mind cleared for what felt like the first time in weeks.

  She’d been so wishy-washy about pursuing the charges against Brad. But the note had given her complete clarity and a strength she didn’t know she possessed.

  She was ready to face the monster and if she got killed in the process, then at least she would die knowing she did the right thing, not just for herself but for all the victims that existed.