by Cora Seton
“I miss my folks.”
The sadness in her eyes cut straight through Becket’s heart. “I’m sorry for your loss. The good news is that when my father heard their land went up for sale, he bought it. But, they haven’t had time to do anything with the house or its contents. The place probably looks the same as the last time you visited. With an inch of fine Texas dust.”
“I didn’t know that. That entire time right after their accident was a blur. Dillon never visited my family with me, but he did take me to the funeral and insisted on me giving him power of attorney to handle their estate. He told me the money from the sale of my parent’s place went into paying off the mortgage, and other debts they’d incurred. There wasn’t much left. He said he put the remainder in a joint checking account, but he never gave me access.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she brushed them away. “I never had a chance to go through my parents’ things.”
Becket touched her arm. “We can go see the house while you’re here, if you like.”
Squaring her shoulders, Kinsey nodded. “I’d like that.” She glanced around the kitchen, drawing in a deep breath. “Smells like chocolate chip cookies.” Again, her eyes filled.
“I’m sure Margarita left some in the cookie jar. You’re welcome to them.”
She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you for taking me in. I don’t know what else I would have done.”
Becket pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry. Dillon won’t find you here. And if he does, he’ll have to go through me, my brothers, my sister, Pedro, and Margarita to get to you.”
Kinsey laughed, her voice shaky. “And if you and your brothers aren’t scary enough, I saw Lily really mad when she was only ten years old. She scared me back then.”
The smile on Kinsey’s face was the one Becket remembered from when she’d been a leggy fifteen-year-old: happy, carefree, and full of hopes and dreams for the future. It killed him that Kinsey’s boyfriend had physically and mentally abused her into this insecure, frightened woman with bruises and scratches all over her body. “Lily doesn’t put up with crap,” Becket said. “I have a feeling she’d call bullshit on Dillon for what he did. I’ll bet we have to hold her back from going after the bastard.” Like Becket wanted to do. But to do that, he’d have to act against her wishes and reveal where Kinsey was hiding.
Becket couldn’t let the bastard get away with what he’d done. “I’m calling Nash.”
Kinsey touched his arm. “Please, don’t. If he’s still living here, he’ll be home soon enough. We can talk to him then.”
“I want him to keep an eye out for Dillon. If he shows up in town, I want to know immediately.”
“Dillon won’t be here that soon. My parents have been dead for a while. Hopefully, he won’t think I have anything to come back here for.”
“Why did you come back?” Becket held up a hand. “Not that I want you to leave already, but you don’t have blood relatives here.”
“I don’t know.” She lifted a shoulder. “I just kind-of headed out of Dallas. I had nowhere else to go. I wasn’t even sure what I’d do next. I ended up here.” She twisted the hem of her T-shirt. “I don’t have any money. I would have run out of gas soon, anyway, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m glad the car burned. A fire might be the best way of hiding it, short of pushing the wreck into a ravine.”
Not hardly. “Unfortunately, someone is bound to put together the make and model with the one Dillon will report stolen.”
Kinsey inhaled deeply and let it out. “I’ll be gone by then.”
He tensed. “How? You just said you have no money. Hell, if your clothes were in that car, they’re gone, too.”
She laughed, the sound cold, flat, and without mirth. “I got away with only the clothes on my back. I didn’t dare take the time to pack anything. I brought the only thing I cared about.” Kinsey removed a wrinkled photo from the back pocket of her jeans and held it out.
Becket took the tattered, faded photograph. “A photo of your parents. I would think you would have inherited all of their photos.”
“Dillon claimed the will said everything was to be sold. I don’t remember much from the weeks following the funeral. I think he was glad when they died. Then I was all alone in the world. He didn’t have to be nice anymore. I didn’t have anyone who gave a damn about me, and he knew it.”
Becket didn’t have anything to say that could take away the hurt and pain in Kinsey’s eyes. Instead, he opened his arms.
Kinsey leaned into him, burying her face against his dirty, soot-stained, smelly shirt.
She didn’t seem to mind. Her arms slipped around his waist and she hugged him, clinging to him as though she might be torn away if she loosened her hold. After a while, even Becket couldn’t stand his own smoky smell. “Look, let’s get cleaned up and make a plan of attack for when the others get home. We have to be ready to field their questions, because I know they’ll have some. I’ll call Rider and have him come to the ranch for dinner tonight, as well. Since he lives in town, he might have a better vantage point, should Dillon show up.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Too late for that.” He kissed her forehead, the touch making his lips tingle. This was the teen who had followed him around like a loyal puppy. Only, she wasn’t a teen anymore. She was a beautiful young woman with all the right curves and long, silky hair a man liked to sink his hands into and tug until she tilted her chin to accept a real kiss.
A groan started up Becket’s throat, and he swallowed hard to keep it from being voiced.
“Is something wrong?” Kinsey blinked up at him.
“No. I’m just thinking. Lily is a lot taller, but she might have some clothes you could borrow.”
“I can wait until she returns from Dallas to ask her.”
“She might decide to stay in Dallas. I’m sure she won’t mind.” He took her hand, strode through the kitchen, and into the front foyer of the century-old two-story ranch house. “Come on, you can have Rider’s room since he’s not using it.”
Becket led her up the stairs and across the upper landing, stopping to open a door. “Make yourself at home. I’ll bring you some clothes.” The room was large, with mahogany furniture and a tasteful navy, cream, and brown comforter spread across the queen-size bed.
He moved down the hallway to another door. “I’m in the room next to you, if you need anything, and the bathroom is across the hallway from me.” He pushed open the door to a modest bathroom with two vanity sinks and a separate room for the shower and toilet. “Towels, shampoo, and soap are in the cabinet.”
“You should go first.”
“There’s a shower in the master suite I can use. I’ll lay Lily’s clothes on the vanity in here. Give me a few minutes’ head start. I don’t want to touch anything until I scrub off the black.” He grinned, white teeth standing out in his soot-covered face.
Kinsey ducked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaving it unlocked. She loaded her arms with a towel, washcloth, shampoo, and soap and entered the inner bathroom to find a tub-shower combination. Since she guessed Becket would take longer to wash the soot off his body, Kinsey filled the tub and dropped a fragrant bath oil bead she’d found in the cabinet into the water. Locking the inner door, she slipped out of her smoky dirty jeans, shirt, bra, and panties. A lump formed in her throat. The pathetic pile of clothes was all the worldly goods she possessed.
How would she start over if she didn’t have money, clothes to interview in, or a vehicle to get her to and from a job? She couldn’t rely on the Graysons forever. Her stay at the Coyote Creek Ranch could only be temporary.
Maybe she could go to San Antonio or Houston, and find a women’s shelter willing to take her in. Of course, first she’d have to get to there. Hitchhiking was dangerous, but her only choice with no money for food or transportation.
All the possibilities tumbled through her thoughts, making her body tense and her belly knot with the magnitude o
f what she’d done. No matter what, she vowed not to go back to Dillon. Her body and mind couldn’t take any more of his abuse.
Forcing the trauma of the last twenty-four hours out of her system, she settled into the warmth of the tub, allowing the water and the heavenly scent to soothe her ravaged soul. She leaned back and relaxed, letting the warm water loosen her muscles.
Her mind drifted to Becket. He was every bit as handsome as he’d been when she was a kid. Even more so. His shoulders had broadened, and his face had weathered with the sun and age. Those blue eyes were the same, and his crisp blond hair had grown longer.
His wife had been a fool, leaving him for another man.
Kinsey had to admit, she still carried a spark of her teenage crush inside. But having just left a really bad relationship, she was in no shape to start a new one.
A wash of dread threatened to spoil her soak in the tub.
Dillon wouldn’t let her go easily. He’d find a way to make her look unhinged, claim that she cried wolf about abuse. He had the money and the connections to make discredit her. Kinsey’s hand sluiced through the water, landing on her bruised rib. She winced, her resolve strengthening.
She refused to go back. Dillon might love her in his twisted, sick way, but she wasn’t strong enough to fend off his blows. One day, he might swing a little too hard and kill her. Whatever love she’d had for him had died over the past year. She was glad she hadn’t married the man, or had children with him. Her heart pinched. Kinsey couldn’t imagine a child brought up in such an abusive environment. Now that she was away from him, she could see all the damage he’d done. It would be a long time before she trusted another man claiming to love her.
When the water began to cool, she pulled the plug and stood in the tub, turned on the shower, and washed her thick black hair. She’d have it cut soon. Short. Dillon hated short hair on women. Kinsey had kept her hair shoulder-length through high school and grew it out in college, more because she didn’t have time to find a good stylist.
Dillon had loved running his hands through its length. Then, when the beatings began, he used her hair to control her, grabbing it and yanking her around, slamming her into the walls and furniture.
If she couldn’t get it cut soon, she’d hack it off herself. Kinsey would never let a man use it against her again.
She dried off, wrapped the towel around her body, and opened the door.
Becket stood in the room with the sink, placing a handful of clothes on the vanity. He wore only a pair of jeans. Scrubbed free of the layer of black, he looked more like the old Becket she remembered. Darkly tanned skin from hours working shirtless in the sun, his blond hair slicked back, curling on the ends around his broad shoulders, he was the kind of handsome that took a girl’s breath away.
At this moment, Kinsey struggled to breathe.
Becket smiled. “I hope some of this will fit.”
Her pulse fluttered, and her core tightened at the way his presence filled a room. Sure, Dillon was an NFL quarterback. Although his body was rock solid and muscular, she’d quit thinking of him as attractive. He’d used his strength to inflict harm on her.
Becket’s warm smile and blue eyes didn’t scare her like Dillon’s dark eyes and intimidating glare. “Thank you.”
His smile fading, Becket stepped closer.
Kinsey backed away, clutching the towel tighter.
His jaw tight, Becket stopped. “I’m sorry. I just noticed the bruises on your shoulders. He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
She nodded, pain fading in a surprising flare of desire. Naked beneath the towel, she only had to open it toward him. But who would want a woman with ugly red marks and deep purple bruises all over her body?
Becket’s head moved back and forth slowly. “We need to get you to the clinic in Hellfire and have them record the bruises. You’ll need that kind of documentation when you file for a restraining order.”
Her grip on the towel tightened. “I told you, I don’t want him to know I’m here.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t run forever. Dillon doesn’t own everyone in the state. I know a good attorney in town. She can help you, and she’ll keep your case confidential.”
Kinsey’s first instinct was to stay beneath the radar. Dillon couldn’t find her. But Becket was right. She had to make sure Dillon never got his hands on her again. “Okay. But only the lawyer.”
He winced. “She might want you to visit the clinic in town.”
Her stomach roiled. Having only just escaped, she didn’t want to be dragged back into Dillon’s control. “I don’t know.”
Becket gave her a brief smile. “Let’s take it one step at a time. Get dressed. We’ll go see Natalie.”
“Natalie?”
“Natalie Rhoades. The attorney.” Becket backed out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed as he retreated. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?”
“I can be ready in five.”
Becket’s smile broadened. “That’s the Kinsey I remember. Always ready to go on her next adventure.” He winked and left her in the bathroom.
Kinsey snorted. She would be ready in five minutes because she didn’t have a blow dryer or makeup. Not that she normally did much with her hair. Besides, it took too long to dry it.
She dressed quickly in the clothing Becket provided. Apparently, Lily had grown quite a bit from the ten-year-old Kinsey remembered. The jeans were four inches too long and loose around her waist and hips. Thankfully, the belt Becket brought helped keep them from falling off. Rolling the hem of the legs kept her from tripping over them. The shirt was long, but tight across her breasts. Though petite, Kinsey had an ample bosom, one of the things that had attracted Dillon in the first place. If she could change them, she would. He’d pinched, bit, and squeezed them until she’d wished she were flat-chested, like in her early teens.
After she tied the tails of the blouse at her waist and rolled up the sleeves to her wrists, she gathered her dirty clothes and stepped out of the bathroom.
Becket stood in the hallway, a telephone receiver against his ear. He nodded to acknowledge her, but continued his conversation. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Thanks for seeing us on short notice.” When he hung up, he swept his gaze over her from head to toe.
Kinsey’s body warmed.
“We definitely have to find clothes that fit you better. Lily’s a lot taller.”
“I’m just grateful I have clothes. Is it possible to put mine in the washer before we leave?”
“Absolutely.” He showed her to the laundry room off the other end of the kitchen.
Kinsey settled her jeans and T-shirt in the tub, added detergent from a box on a shelf, and switched on the washer. She turned to leave and stopped short.
Becket was leaning against the doorframe, his gaze on her. “We’ll pick up some items in town.”
“I don’t have any money,” Kinsey said. “And I won’t accept charity. The clothes I’m wearing now are a loan.”
“You have to have something that fits. Let me loan you some money until you’re on your feet.”
Kinsey frowned. She didn’t like being beholden to anyone, but she didn’t have a choice. “Is there anything I can do around the ranch? I’ll earn my keep.”
“I really can afford to spare a few dollars, but if it makes you feel better, you can help me with some of the ranch chores.”
“Thanks.” She nodded, tension easing from her body. “I don’t want to be a problem, or mooch off you and your family.”
“Darlin’, you’re not a problem. Seems your ex-boyfriend is the issue here.”
“Yeah, but by coming here, he becomes your problem, as well as mine.”
Becket raised his hand. “Don’t. I’ll take my chances.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
“Ask them tonight, when they come home.”
Kinsey chewed on her bottom lip. Becket had a lot of siblings. That meant a lot of people would know her secret
. Having grown up with them, she knew they could be trusted. “Fair enough.”
“Now, let’s go see Natalie.”
She followed Becket to the back door.
Before opening it, he reached for his cowboy hat on the rack nailed to the wall. He settled it onto his head before reaching for another. “This one is my mother’s, and she won’t mind if you use it. It’ll hide part of your features when we’re going through town.”
She wound her hair up on top of her head and settled the hat over it. With the different clothes and the hat, Kinsey relaxed a little. Hopefully, Dillon wouldn’t recognize her if he’d managed to follow her to Hellfire.
Chapter Three
‡
Twenty minutes later, Kinsey stood in Natalie Rhoades’ office. Becket waited outside while she showed Natalie the bruises Dillon had inflicted.
Natalie’s brows dipped into a low V over the bridge of her nose as she snapped pictures with a camera. “The man should be shot. I’ll have my contacts in Dallas file the paperwork for a restraining order before the close of business today. They will have them served today or tomorrow.”
“Can he trace the documents back to Hellfire?”
“There is a possibility. You need to go to the clinic and have a doctor examine you, preferably with a female police officer there to record the evidence.” When Kinsey started to shake her head, Natalie held up a staying hand. “You have to file charges eventually. Otherwise, his attack will never go on his record. If you don’t take action for you, you should do it for any other woman he decides to beat up. The man is a monster.”
“What if it was just me who brought out the worst in him?” Kinsey asked. “He didn’t start beating me until well after we’d been living together for a year.”
“When did you move in with him?” Natalie asked.
“Two years ago.” And, to think, she’d been happy to have the love and attention of a handsome NFL football player.
“When did he start hitting you?”
“Things got tense after a party with his teammates. But they didn’t get really bad until right after my parents were killed in a car accident, a year ago.”
