by Joanna Wayne
A lump formed in Grace’s throat. For the past six years she’d made it through the holidays by keeping her expectations low and feeling sorry for herself at a minimum. By not thinking of family, not aching for what she’d never have again.
Christmas at the Double K Ranch would be the ultimate reminder of all she’d lost.
But Esther, Jaci and Pierce desperately needed a little Christmas.
Esther, who’d been drowning in grief. Jaci, who missed her mother and was wary of her relationship with a father she was slowly getting used to. Pierce, who’d spent eight years fighting terrorists in a hellhole on the other side of the world and had come home to face a divorce.
They needed the tree, the decorations, the lights and the joy. There was no way Grace could steal that from them. So she’d act as thrilled as they did and silently make plans to spend Christmas anywhere but there.
The four of them marched inside the store and Esther and Jaci examined the silver ornaments, oohing and aahing at each one. Pierce put a hand on the small of Grace’s back and guided her to a display of miniature Santas, just out of Jaci’s earshot.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look like Santa left coal in your stocking.”
“I’m fine. I do feel a little like an outsider here, the stray that wandered up but doesn’t quite fit.”
“I get that, but we’re all kind of strays here. Even misfits need a little Christmas—and maybe some mistletoe,” he teased.
The heated zing danced through her again. No way could she start thinking of mistletoe and kisses and think straight.
“I didn’t get to tell you how gorgeous you look today. Please throw that wig away.”
“Don’t you have an appointment about now?”
Pierce pushed up the sleeve of his pullover sweater and checked his watch. “Actually, I’m meeting with the local sheriff in ten minutes, but it’s only a short drive from here. How do you feel about going with me?”
“Then I’d really be in the way.”
“You could be a help. You didn’t know Charlie, so you could get an unbiased take on what Sheriff Cavazos has to say about the suicide.”
She felt a quick wave of panic at the thought. Her stomach knotted. The last person she wanted to talk to was the sheriff. If anyone was going to recognize her, it would likely be someone who’d been in law enforcement six years ago.
“I’d be really uncomfortable in that situation. Besides, I promised Jaci I’d go for ice cream with her.”
“It was just a thought,” Pierce said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” But of course he knew that he had. She’d felt so shaky inside it must have shown in her reaction.
“Enjoy the ice cream and the town,” Pierce said. “I’ll give you a call when I leave the sheriff’s office and we can all meet back here at the truck.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I just hope I get enough information to form a reasonable opinion on how Charlie died.”
“Me, too.”
Grace watched Pierce walk away. He might have just finished two tours of duty as a navy SEAL, but he looked one hundred percent cowboy right down to the great swagger.
For the first time in years, she’d met a man she’d really like to get to know better. A man who made her laugh and made her feel safe even when she knew safety was impossible. A man whose kiss had thrilled her to the core.
A man with a daughter, which made any kind of relationship with him even more troublesome. She would never risk Jaci’s safety.
Suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, she wiggled out of her red fleece jacket. When that didn’t help, she walked outside to wait for Esther and Jaci to finish paying for their armload of purchases.
She managed to pull herself together by the time Esther and Jaci stepped out the door. Jaci rushed over and grabbed Grace’s hand. “We got silver reindeer and balls with jewels on them and tiny silver slippers like Cinderella wears. Do you want to see them?”
“Definitely, but I can wait until we get home. If we start pulling them out here on the street, we might drop one and break it.”
“Oh, no!” Jaci exclaimed. “We might break the silver slippers. I like them best. They sparkle.”
“Oh, goody,” Grace said. “I love sparkly things.”
“Can we get ice cream now?” Jaci asked.
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Esther agreed.
Jaci skipped ahead. Knowing Esther couldn’t keep up, Grace hurried to catch up with the energetic preschooler. They were only a few steps from the door to the ice cream shop when Grace heard the squeal of tires.
She spotted the source immediately. A black car swerved around the corner at breakneck speed. What kind of idiot would drive that fast on this narrow, busy street?
Esther put up her hand and shook her fist at the reckless driver. The car slowed just before it was even with them. Instinctively, Grace checked out the driver. He stuck out his hand and she spotted the gleam of sunshine on metal.
Her survival instincts checked in.
“Get down,” she screamed. Impulsively, she threw her jacket over Jaci’s head and took her down to the sidewalk, covering Jaci’s body with her own.
Three blasts. Quick. Loud. The crash of shattering glass. Then screams. Grace wasn’t sure whose—possibly hers.
Glass rained down on top of her. Warm blood trickled down her face. The horrors closed in on her like the blackest night. One of Tom’s hatchet men had found her again.
Chapter Eight
Pierce was stopped at a pedestrian crossing two blocks away from the ice cream shop, windows down in his truck, George Strait on the radio, his mind on Grace.
She’d wowed him yesterday in a hideous wig, baggy jeans and unflattering glasses. Today she was so adorable it was hard not to get turned on just looking at her.
Gorgeous sun-tipped brown hair that tumbled in loose curls around her shoulders. Jeans that actually fit her cute behind. No makeup except maybe a shimmer of blush on her cheeks. Natural eyebrows that emphasized her seductive, brandy-colored eyes.
He knew he wasn’t in the right place in his life to kindle a new relationship. Problem was, he was already feeling the heat.
A crashing explosion of noise brought him slamming back to reality. Rapid gunfire. In a second he was back in the war zone, death slashing the very air he breathed.
Muscles taut, threaded like fine steel. His mind razor sharp. Adrenaline rushing like a flood-swollen river.
But he wasn’t in a war zone. He was in Winding Creek, Texas, probably the safest place in the universe.
And then he heard the high-pitched screams and calls for help. He swerved into a U-turn and shoved the accelerator to the floor. Even before he reached the corner near the ice cream shop, he saw a cluster of people huddled near the door.
Esther was there, holding on to the arm of a woman he didn’t recognize. There was no sign of Jaci or Grace. The parking spaces were taken. He left his truck in the middle of the road and bolted toward the crowd.
Finally, he spotted Grace, sitting on the sidewalk, scrunched up against the storefront. Blood stained her cheek and dripped from her chin. Her arms were wrapped around Jaci and she was rocking her back and forth to comfort her. The large display window above them was shattered.
“Someone call an ambulance.” Pierce pushed through the bystanders and knelt beside Grace. “Are you two okay?”
All Grace managed was a nod, her face ghostly white, her hands trembling.
“You’re bleeding from your right temple,” Pierce said.
“It’s nothing,” she assured him. “Just make sure Jaci’s okay.”
“My elbow hurts,” Jaci said.
Pierce peeled off her light jacket and Jaci p
ointed at a red patch of flesh, but the skin wasn’t broken.
Everyone was safe. Pierce’s breathing steadied.
Esther leaned over Jaci for a look at the elbow. “Must have gotten that when you hit the sidewalk. I’ll bet a chocolate ice cream cone will fix that right up.”
Pierce took a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and held it against the oozing blood at Grace’s temple. Thankfully, the cut wasn’t deep, but it was an inch or more in length.
Jaci pushed her lips into a pout and touched her elbow. “I want Mommy.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“I want to go home.”
He doubted she was talking about the Double K Ranch. More likely, she was referring to the rented apartment she’d shared with Leslie, a home that didn’t actually exist anymore.
Pierce reached out to Grace and helped her up and back into her jacket. He tried to lift Jaci into his arms, for himself as much as her. He’d come far too close to losing her.
She pushed away from him and put her arms around Grace’s waist. At least there was someone his daughter trusted.
He took a good look at the bullet holes in the shattered window. “What happened?”
The bystanders’ chatter he’d managed to ignore up to this point grew louder. Everyone talked at once until Esther shut them up.
“Pierce can’t understand a word you say when you all squawk at once. I was standing right here. I saw everything and I’ll do the talking.”
A take-charge woman. That was the Esther he remembered.
“Some jackass in a black car came round the corner like he was hightailing it from the devil. He slowed down just long enough to poke a gun out the window and start firing. Might have been the same guy gawking at us earlier, but it happened too fast for me to be sure.”
“That’s what happened, all right,” some guy added.
Others all spoke up, a bit more orderly this time.
“A random shooting right here on Main Street. We’re not putting up with that.”
“I heard someone yell ‘Take cover.’ A split-second later bullets started flying.”
“Grace did the yelling,” Esther said, “and then she grabbed Jaci and fell down right on top of her.”
“That’s what saved the kid,” someone attested.
“Saved both of them,” Esther said. “Those bullets hit right where Grace and Jaci had been standing.”
A police car pulled up and stopped right behind Pierce’s truck. Hand on the butt of his gun, a deputy scanned the group as he sauntered over to the curb.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on here?”
They all told him at once.
“Did anyone get a license number?” the deputy asked.
No one had.
By the time the deputy got around to questioning Grace, she was standing next to Pierce and Esther, Jaci holding on to Grace’s leg, half-hidden behind it.
His daughter, but he hadn’t been the one to save her. Grace had. Two days ago, he hadn’t even known Grace. Now she was a vital part of his life, the fast-thinking heroine who’d saved his daughter’s life.
Grace repeated the same scenario to the deputy as Pierce had heard from her and Esther. The deputy asked for details that she couldn’t supply, but he didn’t push too hard. No doubt the shooting had shaken him up, too.
The deputy took Grace’s contact information including that she was visiting the Double K Ranch. “There’s an ambulance on the way,” he assured her.
“All I have is a little cut,” Grace protested. “I’m not getting into an ambulance.”
“That’s up to you,” the deputy said. “But the requirements are that once the ambulance is here, you have to sign a release if you don’t want medical attention.”
“Fine.”
“Not totally fine,” Pierce said. “That cut could probably use a few stitches.”
“There’s a local emergency medical clinic out on the highway, just down from the new HEB market,” Esther said. “Ellen Crosby’s son is the physician in charge. You remember him, Pierce. He played varsity football with you.”
“I remember him,” Pierce said, not really interested in talking old times right now. “I’ll see that Grace gets the wound checked out.”
Even if they had to drive all the way to San Antonio to do it.
“I’ll hang around here until our crime scene investigators get here to take a few pictures,” the deputy said. “If you and the girl need a ride home, Mrs. Kavanaugh, I can call another deputy to drive y’all back to the ranch.”
“I’ll give them a ride home,” the woman standing next to Esther offered. “Not out of my way at all. After we get Jaci her ice cream, of course.”
Pierce had forgotten how friendly Winding Creek was, which made a random shooting in the middle of the day even more bizarre.
“I’m sure Sheriff Cavazos or one of the department’s investigators will get in touch with you before the day is over, Miss Addison.”
“I’ve told you all I know and it’s the same as everyone else told you. There’s really no use for anyone from your department to waste time questioning me further.”
“It’s just part of the investigation process. We don’t tolerate crime in these parts. A random shooting on Main Street in Winding Creek is serious, and I guarantee you it will be treated that way.”
“Just arrest the lunatic who did it,” Esther said.
“We will. You can be sure of that.”
Pierce was far from convinced this had been a random shooting. He’d thought from the beginning Grace was running from someone or something. That person or thing might have just caught up with her and could have killed both her and Jaci.
It was time for him to get some real answers about the mystery woman whose kiss blew his mind and whom his daughter was growing increasingly attached to.
He would not take any chances with his daughter’s life. As things stood right now, Grace had just saved Jaci’s life. Those two facts intricately bound them no matter where they went from here.
* * *
“I THINK THIS should heal nicely and not give you any trouble. I’d like to see you again in four days, sooner if it shows signs of infection.”
“Okay,” Grace agreed to the young doctor’s orders, knowing she’d be long gone from Texas in four days.”
“You’re lucky we’re only looking at a small cut. From what I heard, if you hadn’t hit the ground when you did, you’d likely be fighting for your life right now.”
Or dead. She felt a cold shiver deep inside her bones, the fear not so much for herself as for Jaci and Esther. They would never have been in that situation if not for her.
The sheriff and the rest of the town might believe the shooting was random. Grace knew better.
You will be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, always wary, expecting the worst. And one day it will find you.
At eighteen, the full impact of the attorney’s warning hadn’t fully sunk in. Even if it had, she would have made the same choice.
She’d let her attraction for Pierce and her desire to be part of a family lure her into making the wrong choice now. Had she left this morning, none of this would have happened. Pierce thought she’d saved Jaci’s life.
How would he feel if he knew the attack had been specifically directed at Grace? Or had he come to that conclusion on his own?
Doctor Crosby finished his spiel, but her mind had already moved on. Now if she could just get through the rest of the day without being bombarded with questions from law enforcement.
Extensive questioning or investigation would almost guarantee that sooner or later someone would recognize her. It would make the news and make disappearing again that much more difficult.
She had to get out of town fast before anyone connected her with her nightmarish past. All she had to do was avoid the sheriff or one of his detectives until she could disappear again.
Unfortunately, that proved to be wishful thinking.
Chapter Nine
Sheriff Cavazos had suggested Pierce and Grace meet him at a coffee shop near the clinic. Pierce hadn’t met him before but quickly spotted the khaki-uniformed lawman sitting at a booth in the back of the restaurant.
The sheriff waved them back, apparently recognizing them from the pictures taken by the deputy at the crime scene. Pierce was certain they would have talked at length by now.
Grace scooted into the booth opposite the sheriff. Pierce slid in beside her. No sooner had she sat down than she started rubbing a spot on her neck just below her right ear.
“Sorry about this afternoon, Grace,” the sheriff said when they’d taken care of introductions. “Getting shot at is a helluva Winding Creek welcome. Too bad you got such an unfavorable impression of our usually friendly little town.”
“I didn’t. These things happen. The people in town couldn’t have been more supportive.”
“Good to hear that. But things like that don’t happen here, and I don’t plan to let them get started, either—not as long as I’m wearing this.” He tapped a fingertip against the bronze badge on his shirt.
“Fortunately, there were no serious injuries,” Grace said.
“Yeah, but there could’ve been a bloodbath out there. Women, kids. Grown men with guns. No telling what might have happened if it hadn’t been over and done with so fast. As it was, you got wounded from broken glass.”
“Nothing to deny about any of that,” Pierce agreed.
A middle-aged waitress with a warm smile and a twangy voice came by, refilled the sheriff’s coffee mug and took their orders. Coffee, black for Pierce, with cream for Grace.
The sheriff sipped his coffee and then pulled a small black notebook from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table. “I hate to bother you with more questions, but I need some additional information for my records.”
