Morning Light

by Catherine Anderson

  Loni had been around the Harrigans just enough to know they were mostly all bark and no bite. She wasn’t afraid of Clint, no matter how mad he might be. “I did what I felt I had to do to protect you and Trevor.”

  He moved a bit closer and held a rigid finger in front of her nose. “One, when the day comes that my lady has to protect me—from anything—I’ll have one boot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.” Another finger shot up. “Two, as much as I appreciate your thinking of our boy, parenting is a team operation, and any decision made on behalf of Trevor needs to be discussed with me. I am his father, after all.” He inched even nearer, and this time, when the third finger shot up, Loni blinked and drew back to avoid getting a digit up her nostril. “Third, when we lost it up at that hot spring and had sex, you became mine.” His face moved within six inches of hers. “Mine. It’s a done deal. No second-guessing. No deciding you’ll be bad for me. No being a martyr. If you ever leave me again, let me know so I can leave with you.”

  Loni could barely see now through her tears. It was equally difficult for her to speak. “You can’t leave.” She gulped and stifled a sob. “You have your ranch, and you have Trevor. You can’t just up and leave.”

  “The hell I can’t. With one snap of my fingers my family would take care of my ranch. We could vanish and be sipping drinks in the tropics under a palm tree in less than twenty-four hours. I also have custody of Trevor, so I could take him with me. I told you once and I’ll tell you again, nothing will ever be more important to me than being with you. And I mean no slight to my son. I love him, and we’ll always put him first, just as we will our other kids when they come along. Putting him first right now, we can’t deprive him of his mom. Every child needs a mother. How in the hell can you think that Trevor would be better off without his?”

  “I’m not his mother.”

  “The hell you aren’t. You love me, right? I’m a package deal. And I saw how you looked at him. You love him as much as I do.”

  Loni couldn’t deny it. “That’s why I left. Don’t you see? There is no escape, Clint. Once they get on your trail they’re like dogs after a scent. They’ll never leave me alone. It’ll be one mess after another. Your ranch will be overrun by reporters. Do you think they’ll care if they disrupt your life? All they’ll care about is the story. They have kids to feed, just like everyone else. It’ll be their income on the line.”

  In the moonlight Clint could see tears slipping like silver threads down her cheeks. He could also see how swollen her eyelids were from crying. And no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stay upset with her. She was so damned precious to him. Even with the sniffles, a red nose, and that cloud of reddish-blond hair, she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever clapped eyes on, and he knew firsthand that her loveliness ran bone-deep. She cared about Trevor, she cared about Nana, and she cared about Clint’s horses almost as much as he did. How could any man stay pissed off at someone who was so wonderful?

  “Will you listen to me?” Clint said.

  “It depends on what you say. I’m not staying in Crystal Falls and turning your life into a media circus.”

  “I have a plan.”

  He slowly outlined his dad’s idea to beef up security at his ranch, telling her how Nona Redcliff could put all the perimeters under camera surveillance and how anything bigger than a small dog crossing the line would set off the alarms.

  “Dad’s getting it set up right now,” he assured her. “We’ll have to build a gatehouse to shelter round-the-clock guards at the front entrance, but until that’s built, they can sit in their cars, or we’ll erect an awning to provide shade. We can screen phone calls with a professional answering service. I’ll hire a bodyguard to go with you to your decorating shop and protect you from idiots when you’re working in the field.” Borrowing his father’s phraseology, Clint finished with, “Not even a flea will be able to step foot on that property without an engraved invite.”

  She hugged her waist, her slender shoulders jerking on a sob. “You can’t live like that. It’d be like living in prison.”

  “The perimeter surveillance is practically invisible. It won’t be like a prison. And I’ve been thinking about doing something along these lines someday soon, anyway. My horses are very valuable animals. Some of Samantha’s got poisoned last year. It only makes good sense to keep interlopers off the property. This situation is just forcing me to do something sooner than I planned, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know if I’d like having a bodyguard.”

  “We’ll hire someone you do like. All I care about is making sure no crazy father ever puts his hands on you again. Every time I think about it I could chew nails and spit out screws. The next time you get approached by someone who steps over the line, he’ll get his lights punched out.”

  “But the money, Clint. It’ll cost a fortune. You’re talking about hiring gate guards, twenty-four/seven, and a bodyguard probably forty hours a week. Say what you want, but you wouldn’t have to do all that simply to protect your horses.”

  Clint wanted so badly to snatch her up into his arms. But they had to finish this, and then they had to bury it once and for all. “Loni, I have over four million stashed away in the bank, and every year I add to it. Do you think I care about a few measly bucks spent on security so I can have a wonderful life with the woman I love? As for Trevor and any kids we have together, I have two hundred acres. That isn’t to mention the adjoining thousand belonging to my family. Trevor can run, play, ride horses, take off on an ATV, and he’ll never see anyone outside the fences. Our children won’t be the targets of the media. You will be. But only for a time. This interest is going to die down eventually, and I’ve got an uncle in law enforcement. You’ve proven yourself to be a genuine prophetess, not some flash-in-the-pan shyster out to make a name or big bucks for herself. Do you think the cops are nuts? If they come to understand your abilities, they’ll jump at the chance to bring you Boo bears so you can help them find missing kids, and we can let them, with the understanding that they keep you out of the public eye.”

  Swimming with tears, her big blue eyes shimmered like silver in the moonlight. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then, Costa Rica, here we come. It’ll work. I’ve seen it work. When Sammy’s horses were in danger, Hawkeye Security had the place protected in only a few hours. When we go home tomorrow, I’ll have to show ID to get in my own gate.”

  Her chin started to quiver. Clint gathered her into his arms, buried his face in her horrible-looking hair, and thanked God that he’d managed something close to eloquence for once in his misbegotten life. “Please,” he whispered. “At least come home and see if we can make it work. You’re a fighter, Loni mine. I know you are. Fight for our life together.”

  He knew he’d won when she hooked her slender arms around his neck, pressed her body close to his, and began sobbing. He tightened his hold on her, closed his eyes, and vowed with everything within him that no one—no one—would ever make her suffer for being a clairvoyant again.

  Clint was about to lay a tongue lock on her that would have totally obliterated any further concerns she might have had when headlights pooled over them. An invisible cloud of dust soon rushed from the darkness to envelop them, and when the sound of a car door opening and closing came through the night air, Hannah gave a happy bark, lunged against the leash, the handle of which was still looped over Loni’s arm, and nearly jerked both Clint and Loni off their feet.

  Gram had arrived. Clint needed no formal introduction. He knew the moment she spoke from the gloom that she was Annabel MacEwen’s mother. “If you don’t want saltpeter in your morning porridge for the rest of your natural life, young man, kindly remove your hands from my granddaughter’s butt until you’ve got a ring on her finger.”

  Until that instant Clint hadn’t consciously registered that he had a hold on Loni’s butt. He dropped his arms.

  “That’s better,” she said. “Call me old-fashioned, but ther
e’ll be no more hanky-panky going on in this family without benefit of holy matrimony.”

  Gram was slightly built, just like her granddaughter, and in the dimness Clint could see that she had the same delicate facial features. There all resemblance ended. She was puffing on a cigarette, for starters, and judging by the brace of her body, she was fully prepared to kick him in the balls and ask questions later.

  Clint had no desire to tangle with a wiry old lady. He promptly stepped away from her granddaughter. His daddy hadn’t raised no fool. “We were only talking.”

  She bent over to hug Hannah’s thick neck. “Hello, dolly. I know you’re going to rip out someone’s throat someday, but I love you all the same. Yes, I do. Just make sure you kill someone who deserves it.” She gave Clint an assessing look. “Eat his boots, too.”

  Hannah shivered with delight and wiggled all the way from her loose jowls to her thick tail, which never stopped wagging.

  Straightening from petting the dog, Loni’s grandmother thrust out her hand to Clint. “I’m Aislinn MacDuff, a Scot to the marrow of my bones. I’m not sure how I feel about mixing our pure blood with an Irishman’s, so don’t trifle with my granddaughter and further prejudice me against you.”

  Clint decided that was a fair enough warning. “I’ll try not to.”

  “Well, forget that damned foolishness about the pillows, then. Put her in a spare bedroom with a lock on the door.”

  Clint felt the blood run from his head. Damn. He had another voyeur on his hands. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. And she’s pregnant, by the way. I got a vision when I stopped to rest for a few minutes while driving here. That little hot-spring episode did you in. You’ll not be waltzing home to Crystal Falls without taking her with you. And if you treat her bad, I’ll hunt you down with Angus’s shotgun. Don’t think I don’t know how to use it. I sure as sand do, and I’ll be aiming for body parts that’ll make you wish you’d kept your trousers zipped.”

  “Gram!” Loni cried, scandalized. “I’m not a sixteen-year-old girl. I don’t need you threatening the man I love. I’ll take care of this myself.”

  Aislinn chuckled and thrust out a hand to Clint. “Stop fretting, sweetkins. Clint and I are just getting acquainted.” She met Clint’s gaze. “The child will have the mark, by the way. If you think Loni’s mother and I are a pain in the ass, you’ve not seen anything yet, young man. Your daughter will be extraordinarily blessed with second sight.”

  Clint didn’t care how blessed his daughter might be. He and Loni would teach her how to deal with it, one way or another. He also totally understood where the old lady was coming from. He’d never realized before just how much the Scots and the Irish had in common. He liked Aislinn MacDuff. She said it the way it was, didn’t pull her punches, and tossed in a threat now and again to get her point across. In short, she talked Clint’s language.

  “From this moment forward you don’t need to worry about her. She’s mine to take care of now.”

  Aislinn nodded. “I know it. Just be sure you do a proper job of it.” She grabbed Loni to give her a hug. “Drove all this way. Now I’m guessing I need to turn around and go back home to Lynwood. I’m happy for you, sweetness.”

  When the hugging had ended, Clint couldn’t resist asking, “So what do you use to spy on her?”

  “Her baby rattle. All I have to do is touch it and I’m right there.”

  Clint assimilated that information much the same way that he imagined men of old had once tried to comprehend that the world was round. “I want it as a wedding present.”

  “You what?”

  “You heard me,” Clint replied. “I want that baby rattle, all wrapped up with a bow. And in the card we’ll have your promise that you’ll never again spy on us while we’re making love.”

  Aislinn folded her arms over her chest. “And in return what do I get?”

  “A standing invitation to visit your granddaughter whenever the mood strikes you, and we’ll also drive up to visit you at least twice a year.”

  “And you’ll put up at Annabel’s? That won’t be a visit to see me. I want you staying at my place, and each visit has to include at least two overnights. Otherwise, no bargain.”

  Clint wondered if she had crystal balls stashed all over her house, and decided it didn’t matter. Her eyes reminded him of Loni’s, and that was all the recommend he needed. “All right, two visits a year, two nights each, and we’ll stay at your place.” He thrust out a hand. “Do we have a deal?”

  Aislinn appeared to consider the offer. Then she reached out to grasp his hand. “It’s a deal.”

  After Aislinn had driven toward the next town to find a motel room for the night, Clint gathered his lady into his arms. She let her head fall back, exposing her slender throat to him, and Clint honestly considered having a taste. But Hannah had wandered off into the darkness somewhere, necessitating that he go find her. He also wasn’t fond of the thought that an elderly grandmother might come searching for him tomorrow with a shotgun.

  So instead he simply drew Loni close—so close that a sheet of onionskin couldn’t have slipped between them. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  She turned her cheek against his shirt. “It doesn’t last me from one time to the next. I think you’ll have to tell me all the time.”

  That was a request Clint could deliver on. He would never tire of saying he loved her, for that was the truth that had taken root in his heart and now resounded through his soul. He loved her. He felt as if he’d always loved her.

  And perhaps he had. When she’d dreamed of him all those many times, some part of him must have been there, and for the remainder of his life, he’d always believe that he’d been subconsciously in love with her long before he’d ever met her. That was why he’d never met someone else and been able to settle for second-best.

  Second-best was never quite good enough when you knew deep down that your true heart’s desire was waiting for you somewhere, possibly just around the corner.

  Epilogue

  Loni stood on the front porch beside her husband, watching Sharon and Jacob Michaels’s car bump along the road leading up to the ranch house. When the cream-colored sedan rolled to a stop the back door flew open. Trevor and Nana, both scrambling to go first, tumbled out onto the dirt, the dog barking with excitement, the child yelling, “Hi, Daddy!”

  It was early October, nearly four months since the rafting accident, and Loni and Clint had driven north countless times to see the child, but this was Trevor’s first weekend visit at the ranch. Clint was so excited that he’d been pacing the floors all morning. What if Trevor hated his room? What if he disliked the horses? Loni had talked herself almost blue in the face trying to reassure him, but he’d persisted in worrying. Now, despite Trevor’s obvious delight at being there, Clint still looked apprehensive.

  “Go,” Loni whispered. “It’ll be fine. Have faith.”

  With the loose-hipped grace that Loni had always so admired, Clint finally descended the steps two at a time to grab the child up in his arms. “Hi, yourself!” He turned a full circle, his gaze never leaving Trevor’s face. “I thought you’d never get here. What did you do, sleep in until noon?”

  “No, we hurried real fast!” The boy looked expectantly at his father. “Where’s my boots?”

  Clint had purchased Trevor his first pair of riding boots the previous week and had told the child about them over the phone. “Boots? I’ve been waiting for five days to get a hug, and all you can think about is boots?”

  Trevor giggled with unbridled delight when his father lifted him high into the air to gobble his stomach while growling like a bear. Sharon Michaels met Loni’s laughing gaze and waved hello. Jacob, climbing out on the driver’s side of the vehicle, grinned broadly as he watched Clint play with his son. Trevor’s happiness at being there was the result of much hard work on everyone’s part, so this was a very rewarding moment for all four adults.

  “How come do y
ou have a policeman at your gate?” Trevor asked his father when their rambunctious hellos were finally concluded.

  Clint’s dark eyes twinkled up at Loni. “He’s not a policeman. He’s a security guard,” he told the child. “He makes sure no reporters come onto the property.”

  “Oh.” Trevor seemed to take that explanation in stride. “Is the guard going to put them in handcuffs if they won’t go away? My other dad hated reporters. He said they were royal pains in the butt.”

  Clint laughed and swung the boy around to ride on his opposite hip. “They can be royal pains sometimes, but handcuffing people can be hard to do, even for a security guard, so he just keeps the gate closed and calls the police instead.” Clint locked gazes with Loni again. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

  Loni couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, that’s right. Your daddy makes sure no reporters bother us here.”

  “Cool!” Trevor cried. “I like it better when nobody takes my picture.”

  Loni shared the sentiment. Clint’s plan to secure the ranch and hire a bodyguard had changed her life. She never worried about being hounded by the press nowadays, and any frantic parents who needed help were directed by the ranch house answering service to contact her through proper law-enforcement channels.