“No!”
He didn’t say anything and Lucy wasn’t going to look to see if he’d gone.
“Come back and eat your dinner.”
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“Lucy, you’ve scarcely eaten. Come finish your dinner.”
“No, I—I can’t.”
She heard him open the door, felt him sit down on the edge of her bed. Then his hand settled on her shoulder and pulled her back so he could look at her face. “What’s going on?”
“N-nothing,” she said, trying to avoid looking him in the eye.
“Why are you crying?’
“It—it just happens when you have a baby.”
“If that’s true, why are you hiding? Why not come back to dinner?”
She let her head drop. Then she nodded. “Yes, of course, I’m coming back to the table.” She was a mature adult, after all, capable of being courteous and cordial despite her breaking heart.
“Good. You need to eat a good meal.”
“I need to wash my face. Then I’ll come back to the table.”
John paused and Lucy held her breath. “Okay, I’ll go on ahead. But you’ll come?”
“Yes, I’ll come.” And she’d stare her feelings right in the eye, dare them to overcome her.
She didn’t go to the bathroom until after he’d left her room. Then she went in and washed her face. She was horribly embarrassed. Now she had to go to the table and face the Randalls.
And hope she could avoid a detailed questioning.
JOHN WENT BACK to the table. “Lucy will be here in a minute. I think we shouldn’t ask too many questions.”
“But why was she crying?”
“I’m not sure, Mom. We need to give her some space.”
“You think so?” Griff asked. “She won’t maybe think about leaving?”
John frowned. “I don’t think so.”
About that time they heard Lucy coming down the hall. She slipped into her chair and muttered an apology. With her head down, she ate a decent meal. John knew because he kept an eye on her.
Just as they finished, she asked, “Is my car parked at Larry’s garage?”
“Why, yes, it’s there,” John said. “Did you need it?”
“I just wondered.”
John looked at his father. Could his dad be right? Was Lucy planning on leaving? But he wasn’t sure why she was upset. She’d put him off by saying it was because she’d just given birth. But there was no way he was letting her leave.
Lucy went to the kitchen with his mother to help with the cleanup. But she didn’t look anyone in the eye. Which meant she was doing exactly as she’d planned from the time he forced her out of her bedroom.
She was going away.
With Emma.
Not if he could help it. She wouldn’t last long trying to hide from Cecil and provide for her baby.
He couldn’t keep his promise and protect her from Cecil if she lived somewhere else. So why was she running away? What did she have to hide?
Lucy had no choice but to hide her feelings. And run. That had become clear to her as she’d sat across from John at dinner. She’d been so aware of him, so attracted to him, she could barely swallow. Staying here near John was no longer possible.
After she’d run from dinner, she’d spent the rest of the night trying to figure out the fastest way to reach her car. But all she came up with was to walk to Rawhide. It took a fifteen-minute car ride. How long would it take her to walk it, carrying Emma?
She couldn’t take much. Lying in bed in the dark, she carefully thought out what she could take. In the closet was a backpack she’d seen when she’d arrived. She planned only a change of clothes for her, but Emma would need more. If she packed tightly, she thought she could fit enough of the baby’s clothing.
Without a washer and dryer, she’d need a lot. Maybe she could manage to make it until she found a motel with laundry facilities.
And of course she’d need food, too. It made Lucy wish she were nursing her child. But because she’d been afraid she might not survive, she wanted her child to be bottle-fed.
She’d also have to take breakfast for herself. She wouldn’t be able to stop anywhere in Rawhide or nearby. John might come looking for her, so she couldn’t leave clues.
Not even if she wanted to.
Leaving John was something she tried not to think about. He’d said he would keep her safe, but he wouldn’t want to when he discovered she loved him. That was why she had to leave.
She heard Emma starting to wake up. Her child didn’t start crying at once. She would squirm around and make sweet sounds. Lucy had learned to recognize those sounds. She got out of bed and hurried to the crib.
“Hello, sweet angel. I know you’re awake and want your bottle, but we need to get you all dry first. See, here’s a dry diaper. They make you feel good, don’t they?”
After she fastened the diaper, she pulled Emma’s nightgown down. “Now you’re ready for your bottle. Let’s go fix it so you can drink it down. Then we’ll have to go.”
She kept telling herself they were doing the right thing. But she didn’t believe it. She didn’t want to leave. John was wonderful and he’d promised to protect her. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He shouldn’t risk his life for someone who didn’t, couldn’t, give back to him.
But she must not confess that to John.
She fixed Emma’s bottle and sat in the rocker—for the last time—to feed her. Emma gladly sucked on the bottle, not realizing she’d soon be leaving this comfortable home.
After burping Emma, she rose and put the baby back in her crib. Then she went to her own room and got the backpack out of the closet. She packed one change of clothes for herself in the bottom of the pack. Then she went to Emma’s room and hurriedly picked out as many pieces of baby clothing as she could get in the bag with room left at the top for the powdered food that she could mix with water to make bottles.
After that, she went to the kitchen and made up another bottle to have ready when Emma woke up three or four hours later.
Packing it, she shrugged the backpack on one shoulder and headed for Emma’s room. She gently picked up her baby and wrapped her in a blanket, then covered her with another, heavier one.
Taking a deep breath, she said goodbye to the Randalls and tiptoed to the back door.
Till a deep voice, one that she recognized, said, “Going somewhere?”
Chapter Seven
Lucy almost dropped her most precious bundle, she was so startled.
She clutched the baby tightly. “Wh-what are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you. Where are you going?”
Sighing, she mustered her courage and faced him. “John, I have to go. Will you give me a ride to Rawhide so I can get my car?”
“Why?”
“Because I need it. How else will I get away?”
“Why are you leaving?”
Lucy swallowed hard. “I—I don’t want you to suffer. It’s better if I go away.”
“And does Emma deserve that?”
“I’ll take care of Emma.”
“And if your husband finds you?”
“As long as I keep moving, he won’t find me.” At least she prayed that was true.
John reached out for Emma. “Give her to me before you squeeze all the air out of her.”
“No, I—” Conceding, she let John take her baby.
“How are you, little Emma? Was Mommy squeezing you?”
“No!” Lucy answered in place of Emma. “I—I’ll take care of her.”
He started back into the house. “Come in to the kitchen. Let’s have a cup of coffee.”
“I need to leave, John. I—I have to reach my car before dawn.”
“Sit down,” he ordered, and began putting on coffee with one hand, holding Emma with the other.
Realizing she wasn’t going to convince him without talking things over, she took over the coffee-making duties.
&nbs
p; John moved to a chair and held Emma in his arms, talking to the sleeping baby.
She couldn’t help listening.
“Your mama thinks she’s doing the best she can for you, but she’s wrong. I don’t know why she’s doing this. She won’t give me a reason, but she can’t have a good enough reason to put you at risk.”
Her hands jerked and she spilled coffee. Wiping up the mess, she said nothing.
John continued, “She needs to understand that nothing she feels would make this move worthwhile. Whether she tells me the reason or not.”
Lucy sat down at the table knowing she had no choice now but to tell him the truth. Taking a deep breath she said, “I don’t think you and your parents realize how difficult Cecil is. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if you stood in his way.”
“I figured that out.” John smiled gently at Lucy.
“But I also know Emma is doing fine. And you’ve suffered enough, Lucy.”
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. “I don’t know if I ever loved him. But whatever I’d felt for him had disappeared shortly after we married. I tried to remain true to my marriage vows, but it was all over after he beat me and tried to hurt Emma. But that doesn’t mean I should use you to deal with Cecil.”
John reached out and his palm caressed her cheek. “You did the best you could, and you have nothing to hang your head about.”
“But you shouldn’t—It’s not your fault!”
Emma stirred, as if in response to the anguish of her mother’s voice.
John patted Emma’s back and soothed her with his deep voice. As always, she responded and settled back down.
“Please, John,” Lucy begged in a whisper, “it’s not your fault. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Okay, I’ll let you have a pass this time, I promise. But you have to promise not to run away again. We don’t want to protect only Emma. We want to protect you, too, Lucy.”
“I don’t deserve your protection, John. I married Cecil. I didn’t leave when he first hit me. I thought he’d stop. He promised he would….”
“Honey, it doesn’t matter what you did. You didn’t deserve being hit. No one does. But you didn’t have any support from your family. You didn’t know about men like Cecil.”
Lucy covered her face as tears began to fall. “I—I tried to be good but…it must’ve been me. I didn’t—”
“Lucy, it’s not your fault.” John reached out with his free hand and pulled her into his lap, with Emma on his other shoulder. “It’s all right, Lucy,” he soothed. “It’s all right.”
For several minutes she let him cradle her, treat her with the kindness no man had shown her. Then finally John leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“It’s all right, Lucy. You’re going to be a wonderful mom to Emma. I promise.”
“John, you’re so good to me.” More tears wet her cheeks.
John smiled at her. “It’s easy to be nice to you, Lucy. You’re sweet and thoughtful and kind…” He leaned down and kissed her forehead again. “Your husband was so wrapped up in himself, he never even saw you.” He wrapped his palm around her cheek, cradling her face, wiping her tears. He looked at her red-rimmed eyes and felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her, love her, protect her.
Lucy shook her head. “You don’t understand. Cecil agreed with my mother. He thought I was ugly.”
“Then he’s a blind man.” He lifted her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
Lucy stirred against his hold, clearly uncomfortable with the compliments. “I—I should put Emma back in bed.”
“I’ll help you. Then I’ll tuck you in, too. Remember, you promised not to run.”
“I’ll remember. John, thank you for making me feel better. I won’t take Emma away without telling you. You’ve been a good friend to both of us.”
He didn’t want to be just her friend, but if that was all she offered, then he’d have to settle for it.
“Good. Let’s go tuck Emma into her crib. I think she’s missing it.”
“Probably. She’s lucky to have such a nice room.”
“I think she deserves it,” he said with a smile as he put his arm around Lucy and started them down the hall. Once they reached the nursery, he took Emma off his shoulder and laid her into her crib.
Lucy pulled the cover over her little girl and patted her back.
“She’ll have you up in a couple of hours, so we’d better tuck you in, too.”
“Will you get up and ride out tomorrow?” Lucy asked anxiously.
“No. My manager will be in charge tomorrow. I figured I’d lose sleep over you and Emma. And it’s well worth it. So I’ll be around tomorrow to help out with anything.”
“You’ve already helped a lot.”
“I’m here for you, Lucy. I promise.”
They walked next door to her room, and Lucy turned to him. “Thank you again.”
“Sleep in in the morning.”
“No, I—”
He bent and kissed her lips, stopping her. “Sleep in. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He left her room, pulling the door behind him.
Lucy stared after him, touching her lips. It was the first time he’d really kissed her. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, rather a gentle one. Just like the man himself. Cecil hadn’t indulged in that type of caress. In fact, he hadn’t ever wasted time on any kind of caress.
From the time John first met her, he’d welcomed her into his arms for protection. She’d been charmed that first night. Now she couldn’t deny she was in love with him.
God help her.
INSTEAD OF EATING BREAKFAST with his men in the bunkhouse at six, John got up at seven-thirty and wandered into the kitchen. “Good morning.”
Camille stared at her son. “John! Don’t you usually ride out? What’s going on?”
“I stayed up last night to visit with Lucy when she packed up Emma and planned on walking to Rawhide to get her car. I thought it would be a good idea for us to talk. After a while, she promised not to run away again.”
“But why would she do that?” Camille asked, anguish in her voice.
“She was afraid we wouldn’t realize how dangerous her husband could be and he might hurt one of us when we’ve been so good to her.”
“The poor dear. I’ve never been in that kind of situation. Who knows what I would do?”
“I know, Mom.”
Beside her, Griff advised, “You need to tell her that, Cammy.”
“Yes, I will. She needs to know how brave I think she is.”
“I tried to tell her that, Mom. It’s just that Lucy isn’t used to being trusted and believed in.”
“That poor child. She must’ve been in a terrible mess with that man hitting her. How could he?”
“We all wonder that, Mom.” John did more than wonder. He vowed to protect Lucy. Even if he had to harm Cecil to do it.
LUCY GOT UP EVERY TIME Emma awakened. But she also went back to sleep. She didn’t want to face John.
She hadn’t been prepared for the kiss he’d given her last night.
In her marriage sex had been awful. A duty, an obligation, an act to please her husband. She didn’t want anything to do with sex ever again. But with John, she wasn’t so sure. When he held her, kissed her, something inside her came to life.
Desire.
And it frightened her to death.
When Emma woke her up at eight, Lucy knew she was going to have to face John. She changed Emma’s diaper and dressed herself, too.
Then she headed for the kitchen, and John.
The three Randalls were seated at the breakfast table. John immediately stood and reached for Emma. “I’ll hold her while you fix her bottle.”
She didn’t bother protesting. “Thank you.”
“Lucy,” Camille began, “I want you to know that we realize how disturbed your husband is, but we are not going to let him touch you.”
Lucy felt her eyes fill with tears. “Camille, it’s not something you should have to do.”
“I know, dear, but we as a family feel it’s our duty to protect you and Emma.” She rose and went to the stove. “Now, let me fix you some breakfast. You can eat while John feeds Emma.” John had already gotten the bottle.
“Camille, you don’t need to fix me anything,” Lucy said. “I can eat cereal.”
“No, you need a good breakfast.”
Griff smiled at Lucy. “Let her cook for you. That’s her way. Besides, she’s a really good cook.”
“I know she is. I’m just not sure she should cook for me. I’m not sure why any of you are doing what you’re doing for me.”
“Well, we know,” Camille said. “Because we care about you.” Then she brought a plate full of eggs and bacon to Lucy. “Eat every bit of this. You need to build your strength.”
“Thank you, Camille,” Lucy whispered.
Camille leaned over and hugged Lucy. “Thank you for staying.”
Lucy nodded, but didn’t speak because tears were filling her eyes.
“Now, eat up,” Camille said. “Look at Emma! She’s certainly not hesitating to do that.”
“I’m thinking this bottle may not be enough,” John said as Emma finished the last of her milk. “How about another half bottle?”
“Do you think so?” Lucy asked, looking at Camille.
“I don’t think it would hurt. I’ll get it while you eat, Lucy.”
Lucy didn’t say anything. She ate her breakfast, a large meal by her standards. But she kept an eye on her daughter. Emma did eat a little more, then she fell asleep.
“I’ll put her in bed,” Lucy said, jumping up from her chair.
“Okay,” John said. “But come back. I have a question to ask you.”
Lucy took her child and carried her to bed. She didn’t want to do as John had asked; it seemed risky to her. But she gave in to his request.
“She’s sound asleep,” she announced as she reached the kitchen.
“That’s good,” John said. “Say, have you ever been horseback riding?”
“Oh, no, John, not this soon after giving birth,” Camille protested.
“I just thought since I had the day off, it would be a good time for you to try something fun and get out into the fresh air.”
A Randall Hero Page 7
