Rescued by the Colton Cowboy

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  She tossed a look in Lyra’s direction. The child was sleeping soundly, and Jack lay with his head in the baby’s lap, her fingers tangled in his fur. She changed the subject. “So, do you have any children of your own, Palmer?”

  He tossed her a look before turning to the stove and the pat of butter that had begun to sizzle in the frying pan.

  “No. I have neither the time for kids nor the interest in them. I’ve never wanted to have any.”

  “Ouch!” Soledad said, her eyes flaring at the comment. Surprise showed on her face, warming her cheeks and furrowing her brow. “That was harsh. Why don’t you want kids?”

  “I just don’t,” he said emphatically.

  There was a moment of pause as Soledad waited for him to elaborate, but when no explanation came, she persisted. “Do you not like them?” she asked.

  “I don’t dislike them. I just...well...” He hesitated, visibly thrown off guard as he seemed to search for the right words to explain himself. “I like them well enough,” he muttered. “I just don’t want my own.”

  Soledad paused, eyeing him curiously. She finally took a sip of the hot coffee. The silence in the room was thundering, both clearly feeling ill at ease. The moment was awkward, as if neither was sure how they’d gotten there or how to move themselves past it.

  Palmer suddenly heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face.

  Soledad smiled back, shrugging her shoulders dismissively. “It’s all good,” she muttered softly.

  * * *

  Palmer turned his back to her to plate the morning meal. After he loaded the dishes with crisp bacon, pancakes and scrambled eggs, he moved around the counter to take the seat beside her. He watched Soledad take her first bite, her eyes closing as she chewed.

  She purred, the low hum moving Palmer to grin broadly. He dropped his eyes to his own plate and began to eat.

  “This is so good!” she exclaimed as she took a second bite and then a third. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “You’ve got skills in the kitchen.”

  Palmer chuckled. “Thank you.”

  For the next few minutes, the two ate in silence, nothing but the sound of gnashing teeth and the occasional hum bouncing off the four walls. A grandfather clock ticked loudly from the foyer hallway, and Jack and Lyra were both snoring.

  Palmer suddenly broke through the silence. As he began to speak, Soledad lowered her fork and turned to him to listen, giving him her full attention.

  “I was adopted into the Colton family. My biological parents had addiction problems and they both died from overdoses. The first time I was removed from their custody, I was two years old. I don’t remember a lot from back then, but I do remember constantly being hungry and not always having a bed to sleep in. My mother died when I was three. I had only been back with her for a few weeks when that happened. My father wasn’t fit to care for me, and I was put in foster care. Most of the families were decent, but there is always one that gives the system a bad name. I was with that family for two months too long.” He took a deep breath, seeming to push the unwanted memories aside. The moment was suddenly awkward as he realized he was sharing more than he’d planned. But he felt an overwhelming sense of ease with the woman who was staring intently in his direction.

  A slight grin pulled at his mouth as he continued. “Leanne was volunteering in the last group foster facility I’d been placed in. I thought she was an angel. She was young, only nineteen at the time. And she was beautiful and kind, and she made me feel incredibly special. My first name was her maiden name, so we had an instant connection. I was slightly desperate for attention and would follow her around the home. And she let me. She became my angel. I was five when she adopted me. When she married my dad, he adopted me, too.”

  “Your father’s Geoff Colton, right?”

  Palmer nodded. “He is.”

  “I’ve met him. I sometimes supply fresh-baked bread to Grave Gulch Grill. He has always been genuinely nice to me.”

  “Dad’s a good guy and that restaurant is his pride and joy.” He smiled, thinking about his parents bringing him immense joy.

  “My past is why I don’t want kids, Soledad,” he continued. “I’ve seen the worst of what can happen in families and how children are affected by bad behavior and actions they have no control over. I can’t imagine myself putting any child at risk of that.”

  “But you aren’t your parents. And you’re not an addict, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” he said, annoyed at the question. “But we don’t know what the future might hold for us. Look at Lyra. Most people would have assumed she had the perfect life with a bright future. Two parents in a beautiful home and a host of possibilities ahead of her. Had her mother anticipated her father turning on them, she surely would have never put her daughter through that. Never!”

  “So, you’re afraid you’ll turn on your family if you have one?” Confusion furrowed Soledad’s brow. She sat straighter in her seat as she looked at him intently.

  “I’m afraid that life will throw me a curve that I can’t control. I wouldn’t ever want a child of mine to become lost in the foster system. It’s not a pretty place for any kid to be, despite the many professionals and families who care about them and make every effort to make them feel loved.”

  “That’s a bit irrational, don’t you think? Especially because I have no doubts that your family would step in to take your kids. Your brother, sisters, even one of your cousins would make sure they weren’t put in the care of strangers. Right?”

  “I’m sure when your friend had Lyra, she wasn’t thinking her daughter would be in the position she’s in now.”

  “Lyra will never go into foster care,” Soledad said insistently. “Not as long as I live and breathe. I promised Annie that I would look out for her and I fully intend to keep that promise.”

  “And that’s admirable. But what happens if something happens to you that you can’t control? Then what? You can have the perfect family, trust the best people and things still not work out the way you want them to. That’s just life, and it will throw you a curve when you least expect.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, the gesture dismissive. “Maybe I do sound irrational, but it’s how I feel.”

  Soledad gave him a slow nod. “It’s a bit of a reach, but I respect that you’ve given it so much thought.”

  “Growing up, it’s all I ever thought about. I didn’t want any kid of mine to go through a minute of what I went through. Feeling unwanted. Worrying about where my next meal would come from. Desperate for my parents to love me. Then feeling lost when they died and being scared because I didn’t have anyone. It was a lot. Granted, I was one of the lucky ones. But there are thousands of kids in the system who’ll never get as lucky as I did. And there are twice as many who’ll go to hell and back just trying to survive.”

  * * *

  Soledad stared at him. There was intensity in his tone, the wealth of emotion wrapped so tightly around his words that she could just imagine the pledge he had made to himself as a boy. He’d reiterated those words his entire life, until they were so ingrained in his heart that there would be no moving him from his convictions. Tears suddenly formed in her eyes, her own emotions on overload as she imagined the wealth of pain that could have laid that on his spirit.

  Soledad had never imagined herself without children. Although there had been no potential father on the horizon, she genuinely believed in the fairy-tale ending. She knew that one day the perfect man would come at the perfect time and, after the perfect engagement and a Disney-worthy wedding, there would be kids. Perfect or imperfect, they would have been hers. Two boys and a girl, and maybe even a beagle named Charlie. She wanted for her own family what she’d had as a girl, she and her sister blessed with an abundance of love and attention from parents who loved each other fiercely and loved thei
r daughters even more.

  Now, as she considered the future she hoped to give Lyra, that fairy tale suddenly had an alternate ending she hadn’t prepared for.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.” She fought the sudden urge to reach out and hug him. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and tucked her hands beneath her armpits. She bit down against her tongue. Hard. Hoping the gesture would stem the rise of feeling that pulled at her.

  Palmer shook his head and shrugged.

  Another moment of pause rose thickly between them, both refocused on their plates and the last bites of their morning meal.

  Soledad found herself thinking about what he’d said, wondering what might happen to little Lyra if something did happen to her. Her emotions were on edge yet again. She took a deep breath and held it deep in her lungs.

  Palmer finally spoke, his deep baritone sliding through the silence. “I know how it sounds,” he said as he cut his eyes in her direction. “Although I try to be more pragmatic about things, that’s the one thing that’s like a burr in my side. I hate feeling that way, but it is what it is.”

  Soledad smiled. “You only sound a little off-kilter.”

  He laughed, a wave of ease washing over him. “I’ll take that.”

  Minutes passed as their conversation shifted gears. Soledad asked questions about the ranch, wanting to know more about the expanse of property. As he answered her questions, pride gleamed from his eyes.

  “Colton Ranch is over eight hundred acres of highly productive pasture farm, and I have a great team that helps me manage the property. There’s also a good sixty acres of hay fields that we maintain. You ran through the hay fields last night. We have a four hundred cow-and-calf operation, supplying milk around the state. We have a few hundred sheep that we raise for their fleece, their milk and for meat. Our eggs this morning came from my chicken coop, and the hens lay prodigiously, so we eat a lot of them around here.”

  Soledad laughed. “Your cholesterol levels are probably off the charts.”

  He shrugged as he continued. “We’re pretty self-sufficient. There are also three fully stocked ponds, if you like bass or catfish. We eat a lot of fish, too. And during the fall and winter, you can hunt turkey and white-tailed deer.”

  “You don’t eat Bambi, do you?”

  “Why else would we hunt deer?”

  Soledad rolled her eyes skyward. “And here I thought you and I could be friends.”

  Palmer smiled. “It’s country living. You spoiled city girls don’t know anything about that.”

  “Spoiled? Obviously, you didn’t meet our father. We de la Vega girls were hardly spoiled.”

  Palmer laughed heartily. Because he had met her father and knew him fairly well. Rigo de la Vega was exceptionally protective of his daughters, wanting nothing but the absolute best for them. When Soledad’s twin sister, Dominique, was being threatened, the patriarch had hired Palmer’s cousin Stanton to be her bodyguard. There was little their father would not do for them or give to them. They’d been spoiled in the absolute best way, and he imagined her desire to have kids was her wanting that for her own family.

  Rising from her seat, Soledad reached for his empty plate. “I’ll do the washing up,” she said.

  “No, you won’t,” Palmer responded, pulling the dirty dishes from her hands. “You’re a guest. Besides, we need to make plans. They’ll be looking for the two of you.”

  For the briefest of moments, Soledad hadn’t thought about her predicament, and she’d been grateful for the reprieve. She’d been enjoying his company. She sat, feeling like a ton of weight had been dropped back onto her shoulders. Across the room, Lyra still slept soundly. She sucked her tongue in her sleep and her expression was angelic. The dog hadn’t moved, lying protectively beside her. Occasionally, he would lift his head before dozing off.

  As Palmer rinsed and loaded the dishwasher, Soledad nosed around the home. The country farmhouse was sizable, almost four thousand square feet of meticulously designed space in a very private setting. The windows were expansive and afforded wonderful views of the pasture, the cattle and the wildlife. The open floor plan included the chef’s kitchen and an exceptionally large master suite. There were four bedrooms, each with its own fireplace, six bathrooms total, and Soledad imagined the cream-tinted walls with the pitched ceilings and hardwood floors held many cherished memories of his family’s gatherings. She couldn’t help but wonder if there’d been someone special who’d been part of the plans for a home so large. A home fit for a family with children and pets.

  She liked Palmer. Yet there was something about him that gave her pause, and she found herself wanting to know even more. She was curious about his likes and dislikes and his dreams and goals. She had questions about the women who were important to him, wanting to know more about his mother and sisters and half siblings. She wondered about his past relationships, whether there was someone important in his life who might not be happy about her finding shelter in his family home. She had a multitude of questions, but wasn’t sure she should even ask or if she’d ever get the answers.

  Soledad was heading toward the family room when she saw a large shadow pass by the front window. Her heart began to race, her breathing suddenly labored as she gasped for air. She sprinted to where Lyra lay, snatching her up so quickly that Jack jumped in alarm and grabbed her by the arm with his teeth. The dog growled. Soledad’s eyes widened with fright.

  “Jack, no,” Palmer said sternly, moving swiftly to her side.

  The dog released his grasp and whimpered softly. He sat and then settled at Palmer’s feet, his eyes still on the baby as if he dared Soledad to try and run.

  “What’s wrong?” Palmer questioned, his large hand gently caressing where the dog had just vised her arm in a toothy grip.

  “There’s someone sneaking around the house,” Soledad whispered loudly. “I saw them pass by the front window.”

  * * *

  Before Palmer could answer, there was a knock on the kitchen door. His heart was suddenly beating as spastically as he imagined hers was, the intensity surprising him. He took a deep breath and pointed to the back of the family home and the master bedroom. “Hide in my bedroom. I’ll see who it is,” he said firmly.

  With a bob of her head, Soledad scurried down the hallway. Palmer watched until she’d closed and locked the bedroom door after herself. Jack had followed Soledad, visibly unhappy when she closed the door in his face, not allowing him into the room with her and Lyra. He lay at the threshold, determined not to be moved.

  Palmer walked swiftly to the door, someone knocking a second time for his attention. When he pulled it open, Noé Maldonado stood with his hat clutched in both hands. He was a slim man with a head of jet-black curls and a sepia complexion. The farmhand had been with Palmer for a few years.

  “Noé! What’s up?” Palmer said, his eyes dancing swiftly across the landscape behind the man’s shoulders.

  Noé grinned warmly. “¡Buenos días, jefe! I’m sorry to interrupt, boss,” he said, his accent thick and as rich as warm molasses.

  “Not a problem, Noé. What do you need?”

  “Just wanted you to know I need to take the big truck into town to pick up supplies. They’re behind with the deliveries and we need that last order.”

  Palmer nodded. “That’s not a problem. Who’s working the ranch today?”

  “It’s a small crew, jefe. I have four men working that northern pasture. The fence came down and needs to be replaced. They will not be a problem to you.”

  “I wasn’t concerned,” Palmer said. “I know you have it under control. I’ll be inside most of the day. I have some paperwork to catch up on. Just call me if you need anything else.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, jefe.” Noé backed his way out the door, sliding his hat onto his head. He suddenly hesitated, as if there was something h
e’d forgotten.

  “What is it, Noé?” Palmer asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “There was a man on the property earlier. Down by where the horses were grazing. He said he was police, and was asking questions. Said he was looking for a woman. That she had run off with someone else’s baby. We told him we hadn’t seen anyone, but he said he did not believe us. He said her GPS showed that she was here. When we couldn’t tell him anything, he threatened to call ICE on us. But we didn’t have anything to tell him, jefe! I told him again that we had not seen any woman and to come talk to you. He said you told him to come talk to us. He made the men nervous. None of them wants any trouble. They are good men, jefe.”

  “That man lied. I would never send anyone to talk to you or the men, and I certainly wouldn’t let anyone threaten you.” There was an edge to Palmer’s tone, every word wrapped in annoyance and rising rage. Knowing Gavin had violated his property and purposely tried to intimidate his employees had him spitting mad, the emotion wrapped in swells of barbed wire.

  “I know, jefe. But not all men are good like you.”

  “If you see this man again, you call me immediately and I will come to you. And you tell the others they have nothing to be afraid of as long as they are working for me.”

  “Gracias, jefe,” Noé said. “Thank you very much.”

  Palmer watched until Noé had climbed into the cab of the Ford F-150 and started the engine. Then he closed the door.

  He stood quietly for a moment, reflecting on the conversation. Clearly, Soledad’s problem was not going to go away, and Lyra’s father was laser focused on finding them both—there on the ranch. Palmer had to question why this location and then remembered something Noé had said. Gavin had told him her “GPS” had put Soledad’s location there on the farm. What had Gavin been talking about?