It didn’t take long to get a room for the baby, and Darcy ordered the standard set of tests to rule out more serious conditions. Shortly after a dose of medication, the fever broke and the little one settled down again. Ridge shot Darcy a grateful glance, his relief obvious. “Thank you,” he said, packing a lot of gratitude into those two little words. “It’s a real load off my mind to see her feeling better.”
“Something bothering you?” she asked. She felt a small spurt of satisfaction at the fact that her earlier supposition had been correct. It seemed she could still read Ridge after all. “Besides the baby’s illness, I mean.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I thought I saw my sister today, but it’s not possible. It just threw me for a loop.”
Since he saw Annabel on a regular basis, there was only one sister he could mean. “Josie?”
He nodded. “I took the baby for a walk in the woods, and came across a woman who looked like Josie. But when I called out her name, she ran away.”
“I’m sorry.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Ridge had always been close to his youngest sister—he’d visited her regularly in her foster home, and Darcy knew he had tried to adopt her when he’d reached the legal age. She still remembered the day he’d set out to ask Josie, brimming with an excitement that was almost palpable. Hours later he’d returned, a changed man. He never did tell Darcy what Josie had said to him, but her rejection of his offer had hurt him deeply and taken some of the sparkle out of his eyes.
And then a few weeks later, Darcy had dumped him...
She shook her head, fighting off a new wave of guilt. The past was the past—she couldn’t change it. The only thing to do now was move on.
“Are you okay?” Darcy came back to the conversation to find Ridge was staring at her, his expression concerned.
This was her chance to tell him how she felt—she couldn’t ask for a better moment. Her heart started to pound, and a flock of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She took a deep breath. Here I go...
The baby stirred and let out a soft cry. Ridge’s focus shifted immediately, and he laid his hand gently on her stomach. “She’s hungry,” he announced. He glanced up. “Can I feed her?”
“Of course,” Darcy said. There was no medical reason why the baby shouldn’t eat, and it would likely help her feel better.
Ridge pulled a bottle from his backpack, then scooped up the little one and sat, murmuring to her while she nursed. After a moment, he lifted his head and met Darcy’s gaze. “You never did answer my question. Are you all right?”
Darcy nodded, knowing the moment was gone. “I was just thinking about the intruder coming back. I’d hate for you to try to face him alone.” It was the truth—the man had already managed to hurt Ridge twice. What if he came back with a gun and shot Ridge when he discovered the baby wasn’t there? A shiver ran down her spine as she pictured Ridge lying on the floor of his cabin in a spreading pool of blood.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, but Darcy shook her head, cutting off his assurances.
“Why don’t you call your brother Sam? He can stay there with you.”
Ridge dismissed the idea. “No. If the stranger sees Sam’s truck there, he won’t try anything. It has to look like I’m there alone with the baby. Besides,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “Sam and the rest of the force are busy chasing down leads in the Alphabet Killer case. I’m not going to pull someone off that investigation when there’s no guarantee the man will even come back.”
He was right, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “I don’t like it.” Ridge’s plan had seemed like a good idea at first, but now when she really thought about everything that could go wrong she wanted him to stay far away from the stranger.
“What if he has a gun?” Surely Ridge could see he was putting himself in real danger. The intruder was unpredictable and Ridge’s cabin was on the outskirts of town, too far away from help in an emergency.
“I think if he had a gun he would have brought it by now,” Ridge replied, sounding too casual about the possibility for her liking.
“But—”
“Darcy,” Ridge said, cutting her off. “I know you’re worried. And I appreciate it. But this has to end. I can’t stand living under the threat that some stranger is going to break into my home. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder.” He glanced down at the baby, who was almost done nursing. “I promised I’d keep her safe,” he said, his voice softening as he watched her. “It’s time for me to keep my word.”
“And what’s going to happen to her if you get hurt? Who will take care of her then?”
Ridge looked up, wearing an expression of equal parts sadness and acceptance. “She can’t stay with me forever. I had hoped to keep her out of the system for as long as possible, but the state will eventually take her from me. Unless by some miracle we find her mother first.”
“Do you think we can?” Darcy asked softly. “The police seem pretty focused on the killer, and they don’t have any leads on her mom. I got the impression their investigation was stalled.”
“It is,” he confirmed. “But I’m hopeful the intruder can help in that respect. He has to be connected to the mother—I just need to find out how.” He placed the empty bottle on the hospital bed and carefully moved the baby to his shoulder, then started in with a rhythmic pat on her back.
“If it makes you feel any better, I wish there was some other way,” he said. “I’m not crazy about taking this guy on again, but someone has to.”
“I know,” Darcy admitted, resigned to the fact that Ridge was right. The man did need to be stopped, and given Ridge’s overdeveloped sense of responsibility, he saw it as his duty to take care of the situation.
She wanted to be mad at him for taking such risks, but it was hard to muster up anger when she knew he wasn’t doing it for the adrenaline rush. No, he was stepping up because he thought it was the right thing to do.
And unfortunately, he was right.
The baby stiffened against Ridge, then let out a soft belch. Her body went limp against him as she sank back into slumber, and he gradually stopped patting her back. Moving carefully, he placed the little one in the hospital crib and tucked a blanket around her.
“Will you stay with her until I get back?” he asked, his voice pitched low so as not to disturb her sleep. “I don’t want her left alone, especially since this is a strange place for her.”
“Of course,” Darcy said. She wasn’t working today, so it would be no trouble to remain with the baby until Ridge got back. And he will return, she told herself firmly, pushing down the fear that made her insides quiver.
He nodded, then motioned for Penny to stand. They headed for the door and Darcy followed, reluctant to part with him.
“Ridge,” she said softly.
He stopped and turned, one brow lifted in a silent question.
“Please be careful.” Before she could overthink it, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He blinked down at her, apparently shocked by the gesture. She held her breath, waiting to gauge his reaction. Would he welcome her kiss? Or had she made a mistake and offended him?
After what seemed like an eternity, he smiled and his dark brown gaze warmed. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, running his hand down her arm in a gentle caress that sent zings of sensation through her limbs.
Darcy nodded, and he turned and walked out the door. “You’d better,” she said softly as she watched him walk down the hall. “I already lost ten years. I don’t want to waste any more time.”
CHAPTER 11
Ridge drove back to the cabin on autopilot, his mind still on Darcy and the kiss she’d given him as he’d walked out the door. Did it mean anything? Or was it simply an automatic gesture with no special significance?
More importantly, which option did he prefer?
He liked the idea that she still had feelings for him. It made him feel less pathetic about pining over her since their breakup. But the more he thought about it, he was forced to admit it would be better if the kiss had no meaning. After all, it wasn’t like they had a future together. Darcy was only in town temporarily—she’d be leaving for her new job before long, and he wasn’t interested in a short-term fling. He’d prefer to remain alone rather than have her walk away from him again. It had been bad enough the first time—his heart couldn’t take another hit like that.
He turned down the long gravel road that led to his cabin, the truck rattling as he drove over new potholes the storm had left behind. The rough ride helped him shift focus from Darcy and his unanswered questions to the stranger who was hopefully still watching the cabin.
Ridge didn’t relish the thought of confronting the man, but he would rather risk getting hurt than spend another minute waiting for the stranger to make his move. It had been a long time since Ridge had lived at the mercy of another person’s whims, and he didn’t enjoy the feeling. It had to end, today.
He pulled up next to the house and cut the engine. Penny jumped out when he opened the door, and he walked around the hood of the truck to the passenger side.
“Let’s get you inside, little one,” he said, making a show of adjusting the blankets in the baby carrier. Darcy had rolled up a spare sheet to approximate a body, and he’d put her blanket on top to complete the deception. It wouldn’t fool anyone up close, but from a distance it made a convincing baby.
He climbed the porch steps with his keys in his free hand, and paused for only a moment when he noticed the faint scratches on the lock. “So that’s your strategy,” he murmured to himself. Apparently the intruder had grown tired of the direct approach and had opted to break into his cabin while he was gone. But where was he now? Just inside the door, ready to pounce the moment Ridge walked in? Or hiding in a closet, waiting for the opportune moment to sneak out and strike?
Adrenaline flooded Ridge’s system and his muscles tensed in anticipation. He gestured for Penny to stay put on the porch—she’d already been hit once by this man, and he didn’t want to risk her getting hurt a second time. She gave him a quizzical look but plopped down on the worn wooden boards as instructed. Good. One less thing for him to worry about.
He took a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow down. Then he pushed open the door, waiting on the threshold for a second to dodge any immediate blows from the intruder. But none came.
Moving cautiously, Ridge pushed the car seat through the door first, hoping to use it to keep some distance between himself and any attack. He glanced around as he walked farther into the house, but nothing seemed out of place. Even so, Ridge could sense the stranger in his home. The air was thick with anticipation, as if the very walls were watching him with bated breath. It was a troubling sensation that kindled a spark of anger in Ridge’s chest. This home was his safe place, his sanctuary. But knowing a stranger lurked within ruined the comfort he normally found here.
Just act naturally, he told himself. But that was easier said than done. He moved into the den and placed the baby carrier on the recliner in the corner. “Time for a bottle,” he announced, then turned and walked into the kitchen, his senses hyperattuned to every bump and creak in the house. He was providing the intruder the perfect opportunity to make his move. Would he take advantage of it?
It didn’t take long for Ridge to get his answer. After a moment, Ridge heard the telltale creak of the floorboards as the stranger moved into the room. He stayed in the kitchen, pretending to be busy so he could draw the man farther into the den.
The intruder grew increasingly bold, his steps sounding louder as he abandoned efforts to conceal his presence. He was either overly confident of his abilities to evade detection, or the excitement of seeing the unguarded baby carrier was making him careless.
Ridge grabbed the frying pan and entered the den, moving lightly so as not to make a sound. He stepped over the creaky board just in front of the kitchen and slowly crept forward, following in the stranger’s footsteps as he approached the baby carrier. Hopefully the man would be fooled a little bit longer...
The intruder suddenly stopped short a few feet away from the chair. Ridge could practically feel the man’s confusion, which morphed quickly into disbelief and then anger as he recognized the deception.
“Looking for something?” Ridge said, taking a swing with the frying pan. He landed a solid blow on the man’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground. The stranger grunted and rolled over, trying to stand. Ridge dropped the pan and tackled him, pinning him to the floor before he could gain his feet.
The intruder went limp underneath him, apparently sensing he was beaten. Ridge kept one hand pressed to the man’s shoulder and reached up with the other to grab a fistful of the guy’s ski mask. It came free with one quick tug, exposing the mystery man’s face.
“Dennis Hubbard?” Of all the men in town, he was the last one Ridge had expected to see. “What the hell?”
Dennis glared up at him, his features twisted with rage. “Let me go!” he yelled, the words flying out in a cloud of alcoholic fumes so pungent it made Ridge’s eyes water.
“I don’t think so,” Ridge replied, tightening his grip. “Why are you here?” Dennis was a well-known figure in town. After losing his wife to cancer a few years ago Dennis had turned to drink, hitting the bottle hard in an attempt to handle his grief. His habit had earned him frequent flyer status at the local jail, where he regularly slept off the effects of overindulgence. Most people felt sorry for him, but didn’t see him as anything more than a nuisance to be avoided. He’d certainly never seemed capable of violence before. And what on earth could he want with a baby?
“You know what I’m after,” Dennis grunted, his jaw tight.
“But what I don’t know is why,” Ridge countered. “And that’s what most interests me at the moment.”
Dennis remained stubbornly silent, his eyes shooting daggers up at Ridge. After a moment of this impromptu staring contest, Ridge let out a sigh. It was clear Dennis wasn’t going to tell him anything and he didn’t care to stay sprawled on the floor, pinning him down.
He leaned back, still keeping some weight on Dennis to discourage any movement on his part. Then he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam—his brother should have been here by now.
The next thing he knew, Ridge hit the ground hard. He reacted instantly, his body scrambling to avoid further injury while his brain worked to process exactly what had happened.
He saw the frying pan on the floor nearby and stretched to grab the handle, brushing it with his fingertips. But Dennis was faster. He snatched it away and squared off to face Ridge, a cruel smile on his face.
Dennis swung just as Ridge gained his feet, the heavy metal pan making contact with his right knee. The joint exploded in pain and Ridge cried out, unable to remain quiet in the face of such agony. His leg gave out and he sank back to the floor, gritting his teeth to stop another groan from escaping.
“Where’s the baby?” Dennis advanced on him, still holding the pan. Ridge pushed himself across the floor out of striking distance until his back hit the recliner. Keeping his gaze on Dennis, he managed to scoot himself up to a standing position.
“She’s someplace safe,” he said, taking a small measure of satisfaction at the frustration flaring in Dennis’s eyes.
“Where is she?” he asked again, raising the pan threateningly.
Ridge shook his head. “Go ahead,” he taunted. “Beat me all you want with that. But I’m not going to tell you. She’s safe from you and that’s all that matters.”
Dennis made an inarticulate sound of rage and took a step forward, clearly intending to pound Ridge into a bloody pulp. Ridge straight
ened, ignoring the fiery spikes of pain emanating from his knee. Moving quickly, he took out his pocketknife and flicked open the blade. It wasn’t a very long blade but it was sharp and it would do some damage. Ridge had hoped to avoid using it, but he wasn’t going to let Dennis take him down without a fight. A bitter, metallic taste flooded his mouth and he swallowed hard, trying to clear away the distraction as he prepared to defend himself.
Dennis paused when he saw the flash of metal in Ridge’s hand, indecision flickering across his face. Sensing his advantage, Ridge pressed forward. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, making sure Dennis got a good look at the shiny, sharp blade he held. “But if you don’t leave right now, I will be forced to defend myself.” His stomach twisted at the thought of drawing blood with the knife, but he pushed aside the instinctive revulsion. If using the blade was the only way to keep Dennis from beating him, then that’s what he’d do.
To his surprise, Dennis lowered the pan. “You don’t understand,” he said, desperation entering his voice. “I need that baby.”
Ridge frowned, not trusting this sudden change in demeanor. “Why?” he asked shortly.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Dennis said, dodging the question. “Just tell me where she is.” He sounded pleading, and there was something else in his tone—a note of fear.
It dawned on Ridge that Dennis didn’t want the baby for himself. It sounded as if he was on a mission to deliver her to someone else. But who would hire him to do such a thing? And why?
He opened his mouth to ask that very question but before he could get the words out, his front door flew open and Trevor barreled inside, Penny close on his heels. His brother skidded to a stop and straightened, then walked over to stand next to him.
“The door was unlocked,” Ridge said mildly. “No need to break it down like that.”
“I like to make an entrance,” Trevor replied, his eyes never leaving Dennis. “Who’s your friend?”
Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set Page 35
