That's My Baby!

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “That does it, Elizabeth,” she said, dusting off her hands.

  The baby seemed perplexed by her new perch, but her feet touched the ground, which she loved. With a grin, she practiced balancing while Jessica moved the camp stove a little closer so she could talk to Elizabeth while she heated the stew.

  The foxglove, she’d decided, would go in the basket with the ground coffee. She could disguise it better that way. Cutting off Pruitt’s view of the coffeepot with her body, she quickly transferred the mangled foxglove to the bottom of the coffee basket and shoveled ground coffee on top. Then she slapped the lid on and put the coffee on to perk.

  She’d evaluated everything Pruitt had allowed her access to, in case any of it would work as a weapon. Apparently he’d thought this through himself, because the cookware was all lightweight and he’d packed only spoons, not knives or forks. Unfortunately, everything she considered, even the flame of the Sterno, might only serve to make him mad, not permanently disable him. The foxglove had to work.

  She served him the stew first. Then, heart pounding, she poured him a cup of coffee.

  “Hand that to me nice and easy,” he said as he reached for it. “I can see the wheels going around, and I’ll bet you’d like to toss that hot coffee all over me. But even hot coffee wouldn’t stop me from shooting that kid.”

  “I’m not planning to throw coffee on you,” she said. But it worried her that he’d read her expression so well. She tried to make her mind a blank so nothing in her eyes would warn him not to drink the coffee. “As long as you have that gun, I’m not going to take any foolish chances.”

  “Good. I always figured you for a smart woman.”

  Here’s hoping I’m smart enough. “I’m going to feed Elizabeth now, if that’s okay with you.”

  “By all means, feed the brat. God knows I don’t want it squalling.” He took a sip of the coffee and grimaced.

  Jessica held her breath. If he refused to drink it, that was one thing. If he suspected what she’d done…

  “Did anybody ever tell you that you make the worst coffee in the world?” he said. “I can’t imagine how you screwed it up this bad.”

  “I…haven’t had much practice.” Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. “I prefer herbal tea.”

  “Oh, I’ll just bet you do, Miss Gotrocks. Probably never had to make coffee for a man in your life, have you, Princess? Cook did all that, didn’t she? It’s a wonder you figured out how to heat up the stew.” He held up the tin cup of coffee. “But I’ll drink the damn stuff. I didn’t pack much coffee, and I need every bit of caffeine I can get. When this is gone, I’m going to supervise the second pot.”

  He didn’t suspect! She tried to keep the triumph out of her voice. “All right.”

  He glanced up suspiciously. “That sounded mighty cooperative. How come you’re not telling me to make my own damn coffee?”

  She lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see her expression. “Like I said, as long as you have the gun, I’m going to cooperate.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his gaze became more calculating. “Is that right? I’ll keep that in mind. It could be a long night.”

  Her blood went cold. Oh, please let that be foxglove I put in his coffee, and please let it be strong.

  “DAMN IT TO HELL.” Leading his horse, Travis walked around shining his flashlight over the rocky ground. “I’ve lost the trail again.”

  Nat fought panic. They’d been out here for hours—his three buddies and both the dogs, Fleafarm and Sadie. And now it was getting too dark to see. Somewhere out in this darkness a lunatic had Jess and Elizabeth.

  Sebastian sighed and leaned on his saddle horn while he watched Travis continue to search the area for tracks “I have to say you’ve done better than I thought you would, hotshot, considering your last performance.”

  Travis glanced up at him. “This is Lizzie we’re goin’ after, don’t forget.”

  “Oh, I’m not likely to forget.”

  “Maybe if we spread out a little we can pick up the trail,” Boone suggested.

  Nat hated to say what was on his mind, but he figured somebody needed to. He didn’t want to be so pigheaded about this search that he put Jess and Elizabeth in even greater danger. “Listen, do you think one of us should go back and call the sheriff’s office?”

  Sebastian looked around the semicircle of men. “What do you guys think?”

  “I’m against it,” Travis said. “I think we’re gonna pick up that trail again, and if the sheriff’s office moves in with a bunch of deputies, and helicopters and god-knows-what, we could have a disaster here.”

  Boone rubbed the back of his neck. “The way I’ve always heard it, these kidnappers usually tell you not to bring the cops in on it.”

  “I’ve thought of that, too,” Nat said. “But I also figure Jess’s father is probably at the ranch, or will be pretty soon. If one of us goes back, we can find out if Franklin’s received a ransom note yet. And we’ll get his opinion on what he thinks we should do. He is Jessica’s father. And Elizabeth’s grandfather.”

  “There’s some sense to that,” Sebastian said slowly. I reckon we all know how we’d feel in his shoes. So, if we decide someone should go back, who goes?”

  No one spoke.

  “I understand that nobody wants to be the one,” Sebastian said. “But—”

  “Oh, hell, Sebastian,” Boone said. “None of us are going back, and we all damn well know it. Ransom note or no ransom note, that baby is out there, not to mention Jessica, and you know as well as I do we wouldn’t trust anybody else to get either one of them back. Not even Jessica’s rich daddy.”

  “Yeah, I do know that,” Sebastian said. “But I keep asking myself if we’ve really been following the right set of hoofprints, or if we’ve messed up somewhere and we’re following the trail of a couple of pleasure riders.”

  “We’re on the right track,” Nat said.

  Sebastian adjusted the tilt of his hat. “I know you want to believe that, buddy, but—”

  “We’re on the right track,” Nat said again. “I can feel it.” And that’s what was so frustrating. He could feel Jess and Elizabeth out there ahead of them, somewhere through the dark trees. And yet getting to them was such a slow, painstaking process. He almost felt as if he could find them by letting his instincts take over, but he didn’t quite trust himself that much.

  “Let’s fan out, then.” Sebastian glanced around. “Now, where the hell are those dogs? I wonder if we did the right thing, bringing them. They’ve never been trained to track or hunt, so I don’t know what I expected.”

  A sharp, shrill bark pierced the twilight. Then another.

  “Well, great,” Travis said. “They’ve probably scared themselves up a skunk.”

  “Let’s go find out,” Sebastian said as he reined his horse in the direction of the sound.

  Nat told himself not to get excited by the dogs’ reaction. Sebastian was right that they weren’t trained for this kind of thing and it might have been pointless to bring them. Fleafarm could drive cattle like nobody’s business, but she was no bloodhound. And Sadie, Matty’s Great Dane, was a great guard dog, but she didn’t know anything about tracking, either.

  Nevertheless, Nat kicked his horse into a trot and arrived at the small clearing in the trees where the dogs stood, wagging their tails and looking proud of themselves. Something lay on the ground by their feet.

  Nat switched on his flashlight and his stomach churned as the high beam shone on a very grubby-looking sock monkey.

  Bruce.

  THE PLANT JESSICA HAD PUT into the coffee, whether it was foxglove or not, was having an effect on Pruitt. He’d downed three cups, and Jessica could see that he wasn’t feeling good, although he was trying to keep her from finding out. The worse he felt, the sharper his temper. Now every sentence was laced with foul language.

  It was nearly dark, and the only light in camp was Pruitt’s small flashlight, which he used intermittently. He hadn�
��t asked her to make any more coffee, and she suspected that was because his stomach was cramping and he knew he couldn’t hold anything down. She wasn’t sure what the effects of the plant were, or if she’d even given him foxglove in the first place. But she’d done something to him, that was for sure.

  She’d be thrilled if he’d pass out, but he might only vomit. Even then, however, she might be able to get the gun away from him. She remembered what morning sickness was like. A person would have a hard time holding a gun steady while throwing up.

  If that happened, she’d have to move fast. So she’d positioned the blanket on which she sat holding Elizabeth close to the carrier that was still tied to the tree. She had to have a quick place to stash the baby when it was time to grab Pruitt’s gun. While pretending to sing a lullaby to Elizabeth, she kept a close eye on Pruitt.

  Suddenly he let out a sharp oath and staggered to his feet. “I know what’s happened! You bitch! You put something in that coffee, didn’t you?”

  “Of course not!” Her mouth went dry with fear as she plopped Elizabeth in the carrier and crouched down so she was directly in front of the baby, shielding her. “What could I possibly put in it, anyway? We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I don’t know.” He held the gun on her while he clutched his stomach with his other hand. “All I know is I have one hell of a bellyache, and I’d lay money that you did it! Hell, your daddy’s probably already transferred my money. I should just shoot you and the kid and be done with it.”

  She readied herself to spring at him. If he was going to shoot her anyway, she’d take him with her, somehow. His arm was wavering, so his aim would be off. As long as he didn’t kill her instantly, she’d find a way to get the gun away and shoot him before he could aim the weapon at Elizabeth.

  “Think I will shoot you.” He was nearly doubled over with pain. “I don’t know why I thought I had to keep you both around, anyway. Your daddy’s going to pay that money. He has to. You’re the most important thing in the world to him. That’s why I knew that if I kidnapped you, I’d—” He stopped talking. His jaw clenched and his eyes began to water.

  “Damn you,” he whispered, and dropped to his knees, retching violently. He still held the gun, but it was now hanging loosely from his fingers, the barrel pointed at the ground.

  Jessica leaped to her feet, ran to him and grabbed for the gun. Although he was still vomiting, his fingers tightened on it and it went off with a roar, the bullet zinging off the through the trees.

  Jessica was frantic to get the weapon. A wild bullet could kill Elizabeth as surely as one aimed in her direction. She wrenched his hand up to her mouth and bit down hard. As her teeth sank through flesh, he screamed and let go of the gun.

  She grabbed it, but she wasn’t steady as she scrambled away and tried to aim it at him. Before she get her finger around the trigger, he lunged at her and wrested the gun away again.

  “That’s it!” he screamed, pointing the gun at her. “You’re dead, bitch!”

  “Drop it, mister!” called a man from the shadows. The high beam of a flashlight focused on Pruitt.

  Jessica gasped in relief as she recognized Sebastian’s voice.

  “Don’t try anything. You’re surrounded,” called another man, and a second flashlight snapped on.

  Boone. They had come for her. Oh, thank God.

  From a different direction came a third man’s voice and a third flashlight beam. “Just drop the gun and put your hands up. We’re in no mood for shenanigans.”

  Travis. But what about Nat? Oh, God, was Nat out there?

  Pruitt squinted as he tried to avoid looking into the glare. Then, in one quick move, he grabbed Elizabeth out of the carrier and held the gun to the baby’s head.

  “No!” Jessica screamed.

  Elizabeth began to cry as Pruitt stood and looked around, staring into the darkness. “Any questions, gentlemen?”

  A gun blasted. Jessica screamed again and ran at Pruitt, not caring what happened to her. She was just in time to catch Elizabeth as Pruitt’s grip on the baby slackened and he went down, a bullet in the middle of his forehead.

  Jessica fell to her knees, clutching the crying baby to her as she sobbed. Instantly she was surrounded by Sebastian, Travis and Boone, all trying to comfort her at once.

  Eyes streaming with tears, Jessica looked up into their beloved faces. “Which one of you fired that shot?”

  “Never mind that now,” Sebastian said soothingly, rubbing her shoulders. “All that matters is that you’re okay. Elizabeth’s okay.”

  She couldn’t look at Pruitt. “Is he—”

  “Yeah, he is,” Boone said. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  Finally, she had to know the worst. “What about…Nat?” she managed to choke out.

  “I’m here.” He stepped out of the shadows, Sebastian’s .38 hanging loosely from his right hand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JESSICA DIDN’T REMEMBER much of the trip back to the ranch. She wondered if she might be in shock, because despite the blanket she clutched around her as they rode, she couldn’t stop shivering. Her horse was sandwiched in between Sebastian’s and Travis’s. Boone came next with Elizabeth in her carrier on his back.

  Nat, the man she most needed to see, brought up the rear, leading the horse that carried Steven Pruitt facedown across the saddle. She’d had no idea Nat could shoot a gun with that kind of accuracy, but from what brief comments the other guys had made, she gathered that they’d all known he was a marksman.

  She, for one, was profoundly grateful that he was, and would have liked to thank him for saving Elizabeth’s life. But Nat didn’t seem to want to talk about it. He didn’t seem to want to talk to her, period.

  But he was alive. Each time she thought of that, she sent up another prayer of gratitude. She could understand that Nat had a lot to deal with right now. Knowing him, he was berating himself because she and Elizabeth had been kidnapped right out from under his nose. And now he had to face the fact that he’d killed a man.

  Jessica felt no remorse that Steven Pruitt was dead. She would have killed him herself, given a chance. And yet, she couldn’t know exactly what it was like for Nat to realize he was the one who had pulled the trigger. Especially for a man like Nat, who was so against violence.

  She and Nat needed to have a long talk. When they got back to the Rocking D, they would find the time to straighten things out between them. Once they’d settled everything with the sheriff’s office, she and Nat could take some time alone. They had a lot to discuss.

  But as they rode up to the hitching post by the back door and saw the helicopter in the middle of the corral, she began to realize that she and Nat might not have a chance to be alone anytime soon. People came pouring out of the house, and she gazed with disbelief as she recognized that her mother and father were among them.

  JESSICA WOKE in the double bed in Elizabeth’s room the next morning, and the first thing she heard was Elizabeth babbling happily to herself as she stood holding on to the crib railing and batted at the foam-rubber mobile over her head. Jessica adjusted the pillow under her head so she could look at the baby, her baby.

  Slowly the events of the past two days washed over her. The scene once they’d arrived back at the ranch was a blur. She remembered hugging both her parents and crying, and endless questions from everyone, and the arrival of the sheriff’s deputies, but finally someone had propelled her back to this bedroom, along with Elizabeth, and they’d both been tucked in like children.

  Jessica suspected Matty had done that. She took a deep breath. They’d all made it through. And now she had to find out if she had a future with Nat Grady.

  She swung her legs out of bed. “Hi, baby,” she said.

  Elizabeth bounced happily and grinned at her. “Da-da!”

  “Yes, that’s what we have to go see about, you and me. Your da-da.” She listened for noises from the rest of the house, but it was quiet, although she could
smell coffee brewing. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised how early it was. She’d only slept a few short hours. Maybe Matty had set the timer so the coffee had turned on automatically.

  Getting Elizabeth dressed was no problem, but putting on her own clothes was painful. The carrier straps had rubbed her shoulders raw and she was stiff from all the unaccustomed riding. But she was alive, and so was her baby. She hugged Elizabeth gratefully as she started down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Sebastian and Matty’s bedroom door was still closed, and so was Sebastian’s office door, where Nat usually slept. Jessica considered sneaking in and waking him up, but she decided against it. When she talked to him, she wanted him to be wide awake.

  The last person she expected to see sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee was her father. But there he was, glancing through some ranching magazine he must have found in the living room.

  He was unshaven, and his designer shirt and slacks were wrinkled. Jessica didn’t think she’d ever seen him like that in her life. Her heart squeezed. He looked…old. She thought about what Steven Pruitt had said. He’ll pay the money. He has to. You’re the most important thing in the world to him.

  She paused in the doorway. “Hi, Dad.”

  He glanced up quickly. “Jessica.” Then the most amazing thing happened. Her father got tears in his eyes.

  Her throat grew tight and she blinked rapidly, not wanting her own tears to fall. “I guess…I guess I put you through quite a bit, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.” Her father’s voice was gruff. He cleared his throat and glanced at Elizabeth. “She looks like you.”

  “Dad, I—”

  He held up a hand. “Before you say anything, I have something to say. I spent a little time talking to…the baby’s father this morning, and—”

  “Nat? Isn’t he asleep in Sebastian’s office?”

  “No. Your mother’s in there. I took the couch. I think Grady slept down at the barn. When I woke up I went out for a walk, wandered down to the barn and found him feeding the horses.”