by Linda Conrad
“That would be right.”
After throwing the sheriff’s own words back at him, Sam reached around and pulled the old hat off Grace’s head. Her long, honey-blond hair cascaded down her shoulders and her beautiful whiskey-colored eyes blinked against the daylight.
“And this is Grace Baker. She and her son are under my protection.”
Grace gave the sheriff a tentative smile and then looked to Sam for reassurance.
“This is Sheriff Austin McCord, Grace. He’s been the law in this county for almost as long as I can remember.”
“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” She stuck out her hand and the sheriff took it in his with a smile.
“Ma’am.”
Sam could barely keep still, as he was starting to itch with apprehension. “I’d like a word, Sheriff. Just as soon as I get someone to help Grace try on boots. I’ll be right there.”
Leading her down the aisles toward the work boots, he signaled a clerk that she needed help. “You can try on boots by yourself for a few minutes, right?”
“I think I can manage.”
“Just tell the clerk you need Western boots. They have a higher heel.”
“You mean I shouldn’t buy ankle-high boots? I like the looks of those better.”
Sam shook his head and worked to keep the grin off his face. “I doubt that they even carry Western ankle boots in this store. You’ll want Western riding boots.”
After he spoke to the clerk and was sure the man knew what to let her try on, Sam made his way back to the sheriff. He informed McCord about Jose Serrano’s vendetta and gave him a sketch of Grace’s background.
“Why would a desperado like Serrano be so interested in this Baker woman?” The sheriff scratched his head under the hat he perpetually wore. “She’s already testified against him. Making an example of her now seems useless.”
“She’s the mother of his son. His only son as far as we can tell.”
“I see. Well, that changes things, don’t it? For a man from his culture, a son is everything.”
“Yeah. I’m trying to keep them out of sight behind the ranch boundaries—at the old homestead. And…”
McCord interrupted him. “You don’t have any trouble going back into that house, son? Some people wouldn’t want anything to do with the place where their mother was murdered.”
“Sheriff.” Sam cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “If you remember, my brothers and I lived there for several years after the…that happened. It’s just a house. The house where I grew up.”
The sheriff didn’t look convinced, but he lifted his chin, put his hands on his hips and straightened up. “What can I do for you?”
“Just keep an eye out here in town. You see any strangers, let me know.”
“I’ll do it.”
Sam nodded and turned to head in Grace’s direction. Then he stopped and shifted back. “What’s going on down at the diner today? Lots of traffic.”
“I understand Steel Brothers Contractors are hiring extra men for the Chance spring cutting. One of my deputies is directing traffic and watching for any trouble. You could probably check with Travis to be sure.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that. See any strangers in the bunch looking for work?”
The sheriff screwed up his mouth in thought. “No, can’t say I have. I’ll inquire. But as far as I’ve noticed, the ranch hands applying are men who’ve been working round here for other spreads—or they’re the usual roving cowpokes we see every year.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. That’s good to hear.” Sam turned and waved a hand as he made his way to Grace.
* * *
“How’s the baby doing?”
Grace swiveled under her seat belt to check on Mikey in his car seat in the back. “He’s sound asleep. He likes riding in the truck and I think he’s worn out from playing with June. Will it take very long to drive us home?”
They’d only picked up her son from Sam’s aunt ten minutes ago. But they were already outside of town and Sam was driving through afternoon shadows toward the ranch.
“Not long,” he said quietly. “Another fifteen minutes or so. We’ll be there in plenty of time to fix supper.”
She pushed the smelly hat on the floor and leaned her head against the headrest, closing her eyes. It was only then, several minutes after the fact, that she realized what she’d said. She’d called Sam’s old place home. Really? Did she actually think of the ranch that way now? This soon? She wasn’t even truly convinced that Sam himself thought of the ranch as home.
Confused by her own thoughts, Grace’s mind wandered back to the last time she’d believed she had a home. One of the worst nights of her life.
She’d already been kidnapped and held by Jose and his gang for two weeks. They’d drugged her. Starved her. Beaten her. She remembered hanging on to her sanity by a single thread. And that one slim lifeline was the naive idea that her parents were desperately raising money or doing whatever it took to bring her home.
Absently folding her arms across her chest in what would normally be a protective movement, she kept her eyes closed and fell back in time to that night.
“Please release me,” she’d begged Jose. “Let me go home.”
He’d laughed in her face. “You still believe those people you call parents care about you? You have no home. Not like you imagine.”
Pulling her close, close enough that she smelled the alcohol on his breath, Jose kissed her on the lips. Her hands were still tied behind her back and she was too weak to resist.
“Pretty little girl,” he’d cooed. “You play nice with me and I’ll be nice in return. But first you need to accept the truth. Your parents don’t care whether you live or die. They have refused my terms for your release.”
“Refused?” Her mind was swimming with the drugs, her head light from the starvation. “No…it can’t be true. They—wouldn’t give up on me.”
Once again he laughed, this time low and deep in his throat. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided that I’ll be the one to care. And once Jose Serrano cares, he will never give up on you.” He ran a finger down her cheek, along her throat and down to her breastbone.
Nauseated by the words and by his touch, she gagged, but nothing was in her stomach to throw up. Jose gently shoved her back and she fell to her knees.
“Querida, I promise your parents will pay for causing you this pain. Meanwhile, clean yourself up. You’re filthy. And I want to show you how nice I can be. But first, we must change locations. We’re going to a wonderful house in the mountains. I’m going to spoil you rotten there. You’ll see.”
He signaled to somebody behind her back but continued speaking down to her. “Go get pretty for me. And forget about your past. Those people are dead to you. From now on, whenever you are with me, you will always have a home.”
Grace came up out of her daydream with a start. Looking out her window, she saw that Sam was slowing for the ranch’s gate. The second gate. They were almost to his old home. She checked on Mikey still sleeping in the backseat.
He was sleeping so peacefully and looked so contented that her heart twisted in a knot inside her chest. Her baby deserved a place of his own. Somehow she would have to find a way to settle down for his sake. Looking up at the house and land that she was beginning to love as they drove closer, she wondered if there would ever be a real chance for her and her son here.
“Almost there.” Sam slowed and turned in front of the house. “You know, this old place is not half bad to look at. I’d almost forgotten after all these years how much I’ve always loved the home my ancestors built.”
Well, that sounded hopeful. But Grace knew better than to start hoping for anything. Sam wouldn’t want to stick around the house he’d abandoned fifteen years ago after the threat from Jose was over.
Jose. How could the threat from him ever be over? Deep down she knew better. Once Jose Serrano cares, he will never give up on you.
* * *
“Will you watc
h Mikey while I make supper?” Grace slid to the ground in front of the house.
Sam nodded to her as he reached into the backseat to pull a groggy baby from his car seat. For some reason Grace looked tired this evening. He wished he could take her out to dinner and give her a break from reality. Help her forget—for just a little while.
He would do anything to take away the shadows sitting on her shoulder. She’d already been through so much in the past five years. He wanted to wipe away those memories and help her make new ones.
But there wasn’t any way they could leave the ranch again tonight or for the next few days. They’d already taken a huge chance by staying in town so long today.
Maybe once the cowpokes began their spring cutting work and everyone was coming and going, the town would be too busy for anyone to notice them. Meanwhile he vowed to do everything within his power to take her mind off the threat.
They were safe here. And he wanted her to enjoy the time they spent together.
“Da!” Mikey suddenly was wide awake against his shoulder. “Da. Da!”
“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you and we’re almost home.” He started jiggling Mikey up and down in his arms. “Are you hungry? Mama is going to make you something to eat.”
Mikey didn’t look hungry. In fact, he looked as if he wanted playtime. And Sam was happy to oblige. It was the least he could do tonight for Grace.
“Let’s get you changed and then we’ll go play in the kitchen and watch Mama make dinner. Okay?” Sam kicked off his boots at the door and took the stairs two at a time with Mikey in his arms.
The baby was not thrilled about having his diaper changed and Sam had to chase him across the bed a couple of times. Still, he found himself chuckling at how bright the boy was about timing his escapes. Smart little kid.
When at last they made it to the kitchen, Grace was concocting a salad from the last of the fresh vegetables. “Well, hello. How are my two favorite men getting along?”
“We have clean diapers—after a few tussles. And we’re ready to play. Got any suggestions?”
“Not the pans and spoons, please. I don’t think my head can take the noise tonight.”
Concerned, Sam went to stand beside Grace. “You have a headache?”
With a glance that nearly sent him to his knees, she murmured low, “I’m just a little hungry. It’s nothing that should slow us down—later.”
He’d forgotten the real reason they’d gone to town, but now his body remembered every promise, every urge, all loud and clear and rushing through his veins. “Did you bring the…uh…our purchases inside?”
“Everything but the gun you borrowed. Where is that?”
Forcing his libido back down so he could manage an answer, he said, “I stashed it in a weapons safe under the truck’s front seat. We’ll practice loading and firing tomorrow and find a place to keep it in the house that’ll be the safest.”
All of a sudden Mikey decided he’d been holding still for long enough while the two adults talked. He let out a screech that could’ve been heard clear out in the barn.
“Put him on the floor.” Grace laughed and nodded to her bag in the corner. “There’s a ball in there. Try rolling it to him.”
Doing as instructed, Sam was amazed at how the baby could play ball and roll it right back to him. “Mikey couldn’t do this when I last saw the two of you in Denver.”
“Babies grow fast, Sam. Blink and they’re going off to college.”
The idea of Mikey growing up and moving out on his own threw him for a minute or two. He didn’t want to miss all the changes. Didn’t want to wonder what new things the baby had learned while he wasn’t looking.
He’d grown fond of Mikey. More than fond, he supposed.
“Okay, Mikey’s dinner is ready and ours will be done in a second.” Grace’s voice brought him back from a very bleak future. “Let’s get our boy into his high chair.”
Our boy. Was that what he really wanted? He’d developed some different attitudes since meeting Grace. But had he grown so much over the past few months that he genuinely cared about the little guy enough to change his whole life?
He’d never imagined that he would be a father. His own father had made a terrible model to follow. From the time Sam turned twelve, the two of them had argued bitterly, right up until the day his father had been arrested.
Lost in his thoughts, Sam had been slow to move, so Mikey grabbed hold of his shirt sleeve and managed to make it to a standing position on his own two feet. “Mama!”
“Good point, son. Mama wants us to get a move on. Supper’s served. I hear you.”
Pulling Mikey into his arms, Sam swung him into the high chair. Then he straightened up and turned to help Grace. But she still stood in the same place and now was dabbing at her eyes with a paper towel.
“What is it? Something wrong?”
She shook her head sadly. “Mikey’s never said ‘Mama’ like he knew what it meant before.”
Sam put his arms around her shoulder. “Well, that’s nothing to cry about. It’s great. Didn’t you just say…”
“Oh, Sam, what if Jose somehow gets to him? What if we can’t protect him? Mikey will grow up and never know me. He’s so young he won’t remember his own mother.”
“We won’t let that happen. I swear to you, Grace. As long as I’m alive, Serrano will never put his hands on this child.”
After a moment Grace dried her tears and they managed to have a quiet, almost solemn supper. When they finished the dishes, she insisted Mikey needed a bath before bedtime and carried him up the stairs.
At a loss and feeling odd, like he had no roots, Sam took off up the stairs, too. But instead of joining them in the bathroom, he told Grace where he was headed and then made his way to the attic. He was looking for something that reminded him of his own mother.
He remembered her clearly. Though sometimes it was hard to picture her face after all these years. But he didn’t want a photograph of her. No, something else would bring her memory back in a much better way.
It took him a few minutes to find the object he was seeking. Under a load of old drapes and covered in dust, he found the toy box that his grandfather had made by hand for him so many years ago.
He dusted off the familiar wooden top, carved into the shapes of balls, horses and lassos. As he opened the lid, he remembered his mother packing toys into it for the last time. His youngest brother, Denton, had recently ridden in his first horse show and suddenly dropped the toys of his babyhood, wanting to be more grown-up like his older brothers. And his mother hadn’t figured her new baby daughter would be terribly interested in boys’ toys.
But as Sam reached inside the box, the first thing he came to was the old bathtub yellow duck. He distinctly remembered Cami as a baby, playing with it in the tub. Maybe Mikey would like playing in the tub, too. He set it aside.
Really looking for the baby books that his mother used to read to him at bedtime, Sam searched through the box. But memories assaulted him with every cracked or chipped toy. Mind pictures of himself, Travis, Gage and Colt playing ball. Or sitting on the great room floor with a new set of trains. Christmas mornings. Easter egg hunts.
And with every memory, his mother’s face became clearer. Until she was so real, he could almost smell her shampoo.
His hand landed on the child-size stirrups that his grandfather had designed for him as a boy. But it wasn’t the memory of himself riding for the first time that came to mind. Instead he could hear his mother’s words as she handed them to him for the last time.
“Be a good oldest brother, Sam,” she’d said firmly. “I’m counting on you to teach Denton to ride. I know it seems like a pain now, you’re a full-fledged teenager and think you’re too grown up. But your baby brother wants to be just like you. He wants to do everything you do. Teach him. Work with him. I’m swamped, what with expecting the new baby.”
His mother had kissed him tenderly on the forehead then, the same way she had whe
n he’d been a little kid. “I’m putting you in charge. Watch out for Denton. Don’t let anything happen to him.”
Sam stared down at the stirrups in his hand. His vision was blurred, though the memories were as clear as a summer Texas day.
“Sam?” Grace’s voice broke through the pain. “What’s the matter?”
Rubbing the heels of his palms across his eyes, he put the stirrups down and stood. “It’s nothing.”
She gently placed her fingers to his cheek. “Tell me.”
He turned away from her touch. “I’ve been thinking maybe I’ll ask Travis to send over a couple of hands to stand watch on the house round the clock.”
“What? Why? I thought you and I could handle it.”
The cold bore into his chest. “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. It’s too important. Just like the last time. I’ll screw it up again.”
“What are you saying? You don’t screw up. You’re the one in charge. You save people.”
Taking her by the shoulders, he gave her a shake—he had to make her see. “I killed my little brother, Grace. By screwing up. Denton is dead. And he died while I was in charge.”
Chapter 16
“Oh, Sam.” In her gut Grace was sure that whatever he’d just remembered, however bad it could be, this was the cause of all his sad looks. And the reason for the rift between him and Gage. This memory was bound to be the basis for him not coming home in the past fifteen years.
She caught his arm and dragged him over to an ancient rattan bench. “Sit. Tell me the whole story. Make me understand why you feel so guilty.”
“Where’s Mikey? Is he all right?” Sam absently sat beside her.
“Mikey’s sound asleep. A full tummy and a warm bath did it. He should be fine until morning.”
She touched Sam’s chin and made him look at her. “Stop stalling. You’re important to me. What hurts you, hurts me. I want to know what happened.”
“I…don’t know where to start.”
