by Barb Han
And then it dawned on her.
“Mom, she’s okay,” Chelsea called upstairs before turning back to the fireman. “Who called you?”
“A little girl by the name of Skylar was all Dispatch could get from her. A truck is on the way. I happened to be passing by when the call came in.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, spinning around to check the hallway in case the little culprit stood behind her. Relief flooded her that her daughter was okay. Skylar was a good kid, just scared, and she’d just learned how to call 9-1-1 at her old school when a fireman had come to visit her class. “My daughter’s starting a new school today and we just moved in to a new house, and, as you can see, there’s nothing on fire here.” Chelsea motioned around awkwardly, not especially sure what to do with her hands. “I’m embarrassed that she wasted your time.”
Nathan made a quick call to the Dispatcher, relaying the news this was a false alarm before tucking the phone in his front pocket. Chelsea expected him to pull out a citation book and write her a ticket or something.
Instead his intense expression softened when he asked, “Mind if I speak to the caller before I go?”
“She might not come out,” Chelsea said. “I’m pretty sure she knows that she’s in big trouble.” Chelsea emphasized the last two words to make sure that Skylar heard them.
This probably wasn’t the time to think about the fact that she hadn’t brushed her hair yet or that she was wearing baggy sweatpants and a faded Journey concert T-shirt she’d bought from a resale shop because she liked the music and the shirt fit into her barely existent clothing budget.
Chelsea also didn’t want to think about the fact that it felt like history repeating itself with her financial situation, too. She’d sworn never to let Skylar know what it was like to go without. At this point, Chelsea hadn’t exactly broken the promise to her four-and-a-half-year-old daughter.
Liar, a little voice in her head accused her.
“Would you like to come in, Nathan?” Chelsea asked. If embarrassment could kill a person, she’d be flat on the floor by now. And she sincerely hoped the handsome cowboy/fireman believed the red flush to her cheeks, as she felt them flame even more when he stepped inside, was attributed to her reaction to the situation and not to the very real attraction she felt.
“Call me Nate,” he said.
Chelsea chalked her reaction up to not having had time for a date in months. Her mother had become sicker in recent months, and working full-time while caring for a preschooler and aging mother left very little social time. Not to mention the fact that the last date she’d gone on had been such a dud that Chelsea had tried to convince herself she could swear off men until Skylar was eighteen. Fourteen years to go and she was already practically drooling over the first hot guy. Well played, Chelsea.
“The fireman’s here, Skylar. I know you called. Mommy’s worried and I want you to come out from wherever you’re hiding right now.” Chelsea softened her tone because, first and foremost, she was relieved her daughter was okay. Now that she knew Skylar was hiding and not stuck somewhere she couldn’t call out for help, Chelsea relaxed below panic as she forced the door closed against the strong winds.
Nate stood in the front hall and Chelsea realized how bad her manners were.
“Can I get you something? A cup of coffee?” She looked him up and down. He wore jeans and a cotton shirt. The material on both was thin. He had to be cold.
He nodded. “Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Follow me.” She walked into the kitchen trying to think. “I know exactly where she’d be in our old house.”
The hot cowboy leaned his hip against the counter and her heart stuttered when she thought about such a good-looking man standing in her kitchen.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and she noticed how graceful his movements were. He seemed like the type who would probably laugh at hearing himself described in that manner. Chelsea poured two cups of fresh brew and handed one over.
“What’s your number?” he asked.
Her immediate reaction was to tense up.
He blinked at her like he was confused by her response. And then it must’ve dawned on him because he lowered his voice to church-quiet and said, “We’ll hear it ring. But, if you’re not comfortable—”
“It’s okay.” She whispered her number to him. This was turning out to be a red-letter day and Chelsea hadn’t finished her first cup of coffee yet.
“My mother’s upstairs. In fact, I’m surprised she hasn’t been down here to check on things. I hope she heard me. She’s most likely still looking for Skylar.” The house wasn’t that big. Had her mother had another episode? Chelsea’s imagination was running away with her because Mother would’ve hollered if anything had happened. Chelsea excused herself and walked down the hall to the bottom of the stairs again, grabbing onto the wood railing that needed a few nails to steady it.
“Mom, can you listen for my ringtones?” she shouted upstairs.
“Who was at the door?” her mother asked, appearing at the landing and scaring the hell out of Chelsea. Thankfully, her mother looked normal.
“Fireman,” she responded and, before her mother could freak out, added, “Everything’s fine.”
“I’ll keep an ear open,” Linda said, giving a thumbs-up sign.
Chelsea hoped her mother was making the gesture because she caught onto the plan and not because she thought Chelsea should flirt with their guest. When Mom winked, it was pretty obvious which side she was on.
Hot cowboy or no, Chelsea couldn’t be bothered with so much riding on her business getting off the ground. There was a lot of work to be done and she needed to focus on making sure the three of them didn’t starve.
Plus, her immediate need was to find her daughter. Nothing overrode that.
Nate Kent entered the hallway and Chelsea didn’t have to look to know he was there. She could feel his masculine presence. She turned and him gave the awkward hand signal her mother had just given her, with an even cheesier smile.
Chelsea took a breath and fisted her hand.
He seemed to get the idea because he tapped the call button.
A hush seemed to fall over the house and even the roaring winds outside calmed.
Chelsea listened, moving from room to room when no ringtones sounded. Her daughter was too young to change the settings on the phone. This couldn’t be right. Skylar was hiding somewhere. She’d called 9-1-1 and asked for help.
The cowboy followed her until they ended up back in the kitchen.
“It’s gone into voice mail.”
Chapter Two
The look of terror on the brown-eyed, blond-haired mother punched Nate in the gut. The five-and-a-half-foot tall beauty had full lips, creamy skin and a flawless figure with just the right amount of curves. And those were things Nate had no business noticing.
“If she was okay, she would answer.” Chelsea twisted her fingers together.
An older woman wearing a frock and apron came into the kitchen. “Any luck down here?”
“No.” Chelsea looked frantic as she exited the kitchen and moved from room to room calling for her daughter.
“I’m Linda,” the older woman said. She had permanent worry lines etched into her forehead and sad, light brown eyes. Maybe sad wasn’t the right word. Deep down, behind her smile, she looked empty. She was thick around the middle and it looked like it took some effort to walk. But there was also a kindness and warmth to her that her daughter had no doubt inherited.
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Name’s Nate Kent.” He offered a handshake that she took with a surprising amount of vigor for a woman of her stature.
His cell buzzed. He excused himself as he checked the screen and saw the call was from Dispatch.
“Are you still at the McGregor residence?” Patty Smart had turned
seventy-eight on her last birthday and her mind was still sharp as a tack.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I have a little girl on the line and she’s quite distraught. Seems she’s gotten herself in a fix.” Patty’s calm, sympathetic voice was a welcome relief. It meant the little girl was okay.
“Is she in the house?” He shot a knowing look toward Chelsea. Even wearing baggy jogging pants and a loose T-shirt, he could tell she had an amazing figure. Again, her shapely hips and full breasts were none of his business.
“Yes. She’s in a closet under the stairwell,” Patty supplied.
“We looked inside there.” Nate was already circling back with Chelsea on his heels.
“Can you hold on, please?” Patty asked.
“Of course.” Nate turned to Chelsea and whispered, “She called 9-1-1. I’m on the phone with one of the operators. Your daughter’s here in the house and she’s shaken up but all right.” Nate was grateful he could deliver good news. As a volunteer fireman for Broward County, he’d seen a little bit of everything and not every situation turned out the way he’d like.
“Thank you.” Chelsea’s eyes closed for a second and she looked to be collecting herself as relief washed over her features. “If she’s here, where is she?”
He nodded at the hall closet as Patty came back on the line.
Chelsea’s forehead creased with confusion.
There could be a crawl space in there. He’d seen plenty of oddities in these old houses. People created insulated spaces to hide money and, in some cases, bootleg whiskey.
“I’m putting the call on speaker,” Nate said to Patty.
“Skylar said she’s worried that her mommy is going to get upset with her for being bad. She didn’t want to start a new school.” Patty’s grandmotherly compassion came through.
“She’s safe. That’s all that matters to me,” Chelsea said.
“I’m sorry it took a minute to call. You must be worried sick. It took time to calm her down enough to understand what she was saying.”
Chelsea was already inside the four-by-six closet with its sloped ceiling.
Nate peeked inside.
“She’s not in here.” Chelsea dropped to all fours and felt around on the floor.
“None of these houses have basements.” Nate had no idea where the blond beauty had moved from. This was Old Lady Barstock’s place.
Chelsea felt around walls. “There’s nothing here.”
“Can you tell Skylar to shout to us or bang on the wall?” Nate dropped to all fours and knocked on the walls, looking for a dead space.
And then he felt it. A ridge where there should have been solid wall. “Hold on. I might have something.”
He ran his finger along the ridge. Chelsea moved beside him and her scent washed over him. She had that clean, warm and citrusy smell.
Refocusing, Nate pushed on the two-by-two box. The wall moved. Using both hands, he forced an opening. Almost instantly, sniffles sounded.
“Skylar, baby, are you in there?” Chelsea’s voice had a forced calm that belied the wild look in her eyes.
“Momma?” A sob echoed as a scuffling movement sounded. The little girl’s face appeared in the opening, round and angelic. Red, puffy eyes spilled tears when she saw her mother.
Nate backed away, ending the call with Patty after delivering the good news, giving mother and daughter space to reunite.
Linda paced in the hallway. “Was that her voice I heard?”
“She’s okay.”
The older woman clutched at her chest and it looked like her right knee gave out. Nate grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.
“Let’s get you into a comfortable chair.” He helped Linda into the kitchen and into a chair at the table.
Linda apologized several times.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” It didn’t, but he wanted to make her feel better. The family had clearly been through enough for one morning.
Nate didn’t have children of his own but a few of his brothers did. He couldn’t imagine the terror of one going missing even for a few minutes.
His family had been through a lot and that had made them even closer.
Their parents had died a short time apart, leaving Nate, his four brothers and one sister to run the family ranch. The Kent Ranch, known to most simply as KR, was one of the most successful cattle ranches in Texas. The family owned land across the state and into Idaho and Wyoming.
Then there was the growing problem of someone butchering heifers on the family ranch. The gruesome killings had started out weeks ago with one heifer found near Rushing Creek with its left hoof hacked off before being left to die. There was no excuse for animal cruelty to any Kent, and Nate was no exception. His family had been working closely with local Sheriff Zach McWilliams, who was also a relative, to solve the cases. The cousins had been close from childhood, along with Zach’s sister, Amy.
Everyone was on the hunt. There had been no new information or leads on the case yet extra patrols couldn’t keep the killer at bay. His pattern of striking was unpredictable.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Linda said, settling in the chair.
“You couldn’t be,” Nate reassured her. He had basic EMT training but that’s about as far as his skills went.
Linda’s color had washed out, her pupils dilated.
“Are you taking any medications?” he asked.
The older woman issued a breath. “I forgot. In all the excitement, I completely missed my morning pills.”
Chelsea came into the room, a little girl in her arms who looked like her Mini-Me but with black, kinky curls. Nate glanced up and his heart squeezed at the sight of mother and daughter. The little girl was still sniffling and softly crying, her face buried in her mother’s long hair.
Linda put up a hand at Chelsea’s obvious concern. “I forgot to take my medication this morning,” Linda said.
“Where is it? I’ll go get it.” Chelsea was busy with her little girl, so Nate volunteered to do it.
“I keep them in the cabinet next to the kitchen sink.” Linda pointed. “There’s a lock on it so you’ll have to finagle it open.”
“A couple of my brothers are married with kids. I’ve seen most of these.” He was able to open the cabinet easily. He grabbed three bottles with Linda’s name on them and brought them to Chelsea’s mother with a glass of water. He recognized one as a commonly prescribed blood pressure medication.
She thanked him and took the offering. She opened the bottles and popped three pills in her mouth. “I’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Nate noticed the concern on Chelsea’s forehead. She had her hands full.
And so did he.
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR COMING,” Chelsea said to Nate. Her to-do list was piling up and she hadn’t planned on Skylar being around for the day. Having her daughter home was going to throw a wrench in things. Part of her figured she should send her daughter to preschool, but the other part—the winning part—convinced her to keep Skylar home.
What Skylar had done was not okay. But the scare of being locked inside the crawl space had been bad enough for her daughter to still cling to Chelsea. There’d be no peeling those fingers from around Chelsea’s neck, and maybe she was a bad parent for it, but she needed to keep eyes on her little girl after that shock, to see that her daughter was fine.
Chelsea, shaken up by the morning’s events, was probably overreacting, but she also acknowledged that she’d uprooted Skylar from everything familiar.
Nate finished his cup of coffee and set it on the counter.
“There’s no reason to rush him out the door,” Linda said with a little wink that made Chelsea’s face flame with embarrassment.
Worse yet, he chuckled, and it was a rumble from deep in h
is chest.
“I’ll walk you out.” Chelsea didn’t care how amused he was. She was mortified.
“Hope you feel better soon,” he said to her mother.
“Maybe you could stop in later.”
“Mom.”
Chelsea, Skylar in her arms, led the way to the front door without looking back. She didn’t want to give away her body’s reaction to the handsome cowboy. Besides, it was most likely because of what had happened, but she had a creepy feeling that she couldn’t shake. When she really thought about it, she’d woken with it.
A premonition? She didn’t believe in psychic abilities.
She stopped at the door, hefting Skylar higher on her hip. “I think I’ve apologized like fifty times already, but I’m sorry about my mother just now.”
“She was having a little fun.” She was grateful for his good nature. He hesitated at the door. “I don’t want to intrude, but it might be safer if I check out that crawl space before I leave.”
Skylar lifted her head to look up. She’d always been a shy child, avoiding eye contact until it was absolutely necessary.
“It was scary,” Skylar said, brown eyes wide and watery. A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. She brought the back of her hand up to wipe it away.
Chelsea almost didn’t know how to react. Her daughter rarely spoke to strangers, especially men she didn’t know.
Nate’s offer would take an item off Chelsea’s growing to-do list. Accepting help was foreign to her, especially from a stranger. She had always been self-reliant. To be honest, she preferred it to depending on anyone else.
But she could also admit that she was in over her head.
“That would be great.” She needed to get back to the kitchen to check on her mother, though she didn’t like the idea of the crawl space being open. “Any chance you can board it up while you’re here? I have a hammer and nails. I’m sure I can find a couple of boards.”
“I was going to offer the same thing. Thought I’d check it out first to make sure nothing else was in there.”
