Fargo’s stare narrowed. “The kid’s here. Rafe’s happy. Case closed. Move on.”
“Yeah, that’s the Cold Plains way, isn’t it?” he muttered, walking away from Fargo before he said something he really couldn’t take back.
He supposed Fargo was right about one thing: Rafe would be happy and relieved. And that was a good thing. Ford would try to accept the news as simply that: good.
* * *
Rafe’s hands shook as he clicked off his phone. Darcy stared, worried. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“That was Fargo. They’ve found Devin.”
“What?” Darcy exclaimed. “Where?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t give me details. He’s on his way now.” Tears of joy brimmed in his eyes. “I’m finally going to meet my son, after all these long months, I’m finally going to meet him!”
Darcy rose and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad, sweetheart. So glad. You deserve happiness. And Devin will be a lucky boy to have you as a father.”
Rafe didn’t have a chance to answer, for Fargo and Grayson both entered the office. Fargo was carrying a small baby boy.
The air squeezed from his lungs in a painful exhale; his heart hammered so hard he thought he might die on the spot. Darcy took a spot behind him, and Grayson’s stare narrowed when he saw her. The meeting between the two momentarily took his attention as he worried that Grayson might recognize something familiar about Darcy, but Grayson gave nothing away. He simply smiled with generosity, like a king granting a full pardon to an unruly subject, and basked in Rafe’s joy.
“Here,” Fargo said, putting the boy unceremoniously into Rafe’s arms. “Congratulations. It’s a boy.”
Grayson stepped forward, his arms outstretched as if to embrace Rafe and the baby, but he simply smiled and clapped his hands together as if with happiness. “Behind the scenes, I had Chief Fargo chasing down every lead, putting some heat on people of interest, but we didn’t want to say anything until the investigation yielded results. And now, your son is in your arms. All’s well that ends well, Dr. Black. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Rafe barely heard Grayson, he was too busy taking in every detail of Devin’s little face. “He’s beautiful,” he murmured, tears breaking the surface and starting to flow. He blinked them back and choked on the words he said next. “Thank you for bringing him home to me.”
Fargo’s smile bordered on a smirk, and Grayson simply looked smug, but Rafe didn’t care. He had his son. He’d deal with the who, what and how later.
“Rest assured we haven’t given up on finding who took the little guy,” Grayson said, nodding to Fargo. “Isn’t that right, Chief?”
“Absolutely,” Fargo said, no doubt lying through his teeth. “Whoever did this will be caught. I promise you that.”
Rafe looked up and met Fargo’s stare. “Good. Because anyone who would steal a child is beyond redemption in my book.”
“Well, you two have a lot of catching up to do. One more thing,” Grayson said, going to the door. “What did you decide, on the offer to run the OB clinic?”
Rafe straightened and adjusted the baby in his arms. “I’m sorry, I have to decline. I like working with my patients too much here in my practice, but I’d be happy to continue volunteering on Saturdays to help out.”
Darcy interjected with a sweet smile, “Plus now that we have Devin, our time will be limited. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Rafe caught Darcy’s gaze and nodded in full agreement, in spite of Grayson’s obvious displeasure at his refusal. “I plan to be a hands-on father. To this boy and any other that may come along.”
Darcy beamed and shot Grayson a look that could only be deemed as a victory dance in her eyes. Grayson’s smile tightened and he shrugged. “Understandable. But maybe with time, you’ll change your mind. Until then…enjoy your son.”
Rafe stared at the cherubic face that was so like his own and murmured a promise as he nuzzled the sweet, soft skin of his son, “Oh, I will.”
* * *
The days that followed Devin’s return were a whirlwind of activity. Darcy had a blast shopping for baby furniture and all the appropriate trappings, turning the guest bedroom into Devin’s.
Rafe stared in wonder at the transformation. The room was painted in shades of baby blue with stenciled airplanes flying along the walls and a beautiful cherrywood crib set with matching bedding that filled the small room perfectly.
Darcy fell into the role of mother quite easily and was nearly as protective of Devin as Rafe, and it filled Rafe’s heart with joy.
“Will you marry me?” he asked one morning after she’d fed and changed Devin. She paused in her dressing of the little man and stared. He realized he could’ve finessed it a bit more, but he was overcome with love for this woman and the words simply spilled out of their own accord. But no matter, it was his heart’s desire in spite of the presentation. “I don’t have a ring yet, but we can rectify that today if you like. All I know is that I want you in my life forever and the best way to do that is to give you my name. Would you do me the honor of being my wife and Devin’s mother?”
It took an agonizingly long moment for Darcy to respond, and for a second, Rafe worried she’d turn him down, but that wasn’t the case. She jerked a short nod, tears filling her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “Nothing would make me happier.” She glanced down at Devin and smiled. “I don’t need a fancy ring. This little man is better than any material item you could give me. And I definitely want more of them. Maybe not this minute, but we can negotiate that basketball team.”
He gathered her in his arms and held her close, sending a prayer to whoever might be listening to watch over them, for they’d need all the guardian angels out there to make it in Cold Plains.
Nothing had changed—Grayson still needed to be stopped and Rafe had vowed to help in any way that he could to find answers about Catherine—but with Darcy and Devin, he felt he could do anything.
It was the best feeling he’d had since stepping foot in Cold Plains, and he planned to savor it.
EPILOGUE
A commotion in the front office brought Rafe running. Darcy was helping a badly beaten woman into Exam Room One, galvanizing him into action.
The woman, face swollen and bruised, her lip and nose busted, groaned as she lay on the exam bed, holding her side. Rafe was horrified by the extent of her injuries, but the professional in him was already assessing her condition.
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?” he asked, swiftly checking her pupils for evidence of shock, then slipping a blood-pressure cuff on. “You’re hurt badly. I’m going to stabilize you, but you need to go to the hospital.”
She groaned again, tears squeezing from her swollen lids. “Hurtsss,” she moaned. “So b-bad.”
Rafe looked to Darcy and she shot off to call the ambulance.
“What’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep her conscious. “I’m Dr. Black. I’m going to take care of you. You’re safe now.”
“G-Gemma,” she managed to whisper, though it was difficult to understand at first because of her injured lip.
“Gemma? Okay, Gemma, the ambulance is here. I—” Her hand clutched his in a surprisingly strong grip. Her expression pleaded with him not to leave her. Fear was in her eyes and he nodded in understanding. “I’ll go with you to the hospital.” Her grip loosened as her eyes registered relief. Rafe couldn’t help but wonder if this was the work of Grayson or his henchmen, but there was no way to find out at the moment. Gemma was barely conscious.
The ambulance arrived and trundled Gemma into the back, and Rafe climbed in to sit beside her.
“Cancel all patients,” he instructed Darcy just before the doors closed, and they raced the short distance to the hospital.
He relinq
uished her care to the trauma department but he waited for news. It was an hour before they’d patched her enough to put her in a room, with heavy painkillers on a drip. Rafe entered her room, relieved to see the blood wiped away and the wounds attended to. He checked her chart. Severe facial lacerations and bruising, a bruised kidney and liver but otherwise no internal bleeding, which surprised him.
Rafe went to her bedside and found her awake.
“You should be resting,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice raspy and drugged.
“No need for thanks,” he said. “I wouldn’t be much of a doctor if I ignored an injured woman who stumbled into my practice.”
She attempted a smile, but it was too painful and she stopped.
“Gemma, what happened?” he asked.
Just then Grayson walked in and Rafe resisted the urge to scowl. Fargo must’ve alerted him to the call that went out over dispatch when the ambulance was called.
“I came as soon as I heard,” Grayson said, his face a mask of concern. “Who did this?”
Rafe answered, “Not sure. Do you know her?”
Grayson shook his head and gingerly took her hand. “No, but she’s in Cold Plains’s care and we will do our best to find out who did this to her and bring them to justice.”
Gemma stared at Grayson, her eyes brimming. “My ex-husband…he found me. I tried to run, but he caught me and did this…. He’s dangerous….”
Grayson rubbed her hand gently. “Don’t you worry about him. We’ll find him before he can be a danger to anyone else. You rest.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut and she dropped into a drugged sleep that she desperately needed to heal. Grayson turned to Rafe, who was watching the exchange with guarded reserve. He didn’t trust Grayson taking an interest in this poor woman. She’d clearly been through enough. But he could say nothing. He was still walking a tightrope with Grayson, playing the part that kept him alive.
“Have the nurses tell me as soon as she’s well enough to leave. I want to make sure she’s taken care of. I will personally see to her needs. Cold Plains is a safe place. If word of this gets out, it could tarnish our image. This is a family-friendly town, not one where defenseless women get brutalized.”
Amazingly hypocritical, thought Rafe but nodded gravely just the same. “Of course.”
“I’ll get Chief Fargo to take her statement when she’s feeling up to it.” Grayson took one last look at Gemma and said, “I’ll bring the audio version of my lecture tonight—Healing the Heart. It’s appropriate, don’t you think?”
“Very,” he agreed. “I think she’ll like that.”
Pleased, Grayson nodded and left.
As soon as Grayson was gone, Rafe dropped the act and regarded the sleeping Gemma with apprehension. Grayson taking an active interest in the woman wasn’t a good thing. In his experience, when Samuel Grayson took a shine to a woman…sometimes they ended up dead.
He’d have to find a way to warn the woman…or else she’d find herself running from one madman—straight into the arms of another.
That now-familiar tightening in his chest reminded him that even though he’d finally found Devin, all was far from well in Cold Plains.
Rafe could feel the tension in the tightrope he continued to walk. The urge to pack up his little family and split was strong, but when he looked at Gemma, saw the trust in her eyes for the madman pretending to care about her well-being, he saw countless other people falling for Grayson’s lies and he couldn’t walk away. Not yet.
The battle was coming and, whether he liked it or not, he was already on the front lines.
There was no turning back now.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459223400
A Daughter’s Perfect Secret
Copyright © 2012 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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www.Harlequin.com
Her trust may be her downfall…
The heat between them is instantaneous. Irresistible. But police deputy Ford McCall has a job to do. And no self-respecting lawman would let a woman, even a sexy brunette like Gemma Johnson, distract him. He knows that evil has come to rural Cold Plains. And if he doesn’t want the petite newcomer to be involved, he can’t take that risk.
Gemma Johnson never saw it coming. She fled from an abusive marriage and thought she’d gotten away. Now her violent ex has come after her, and by Ford’s side, she’s stumbled into an even larger plot. Everything screams for her to turn to the rugged lawman. But desire can lead to danger, and there’s only so much her vulnerable heart can take….
Lawman’s Perfect Surrender
Jennifer Morey
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
CHAPTER 1
After talking to the fire chief about final plans for this week’s Fourth of July celebration, Ford McCall tucked his cell phone into its holster and looked with dread toward the front doors of Samuel Grayson’s lavish three-story community center. Marble-trimmed, tinted windows and swooping gardens full of color accented the stone monolith. This was Inspiration Central at its finest, cloaked in danger and deception. The whole town was infected with its cultish poison.
Ford sighed and ran his fingers through his windblown blond hair, annoyed that he had to deal with another woman who’d caught Grayson’s fancy. The Chief of Police had assigned him to question a “very special lady.” She was special, all right. Grayson always took an interest in anything that put a ripple in his perfect town, and he used the police chief to take care of the problem. Gemma Johnson had moved here after divorcing her ex-husband, Jed, who hadn’t taken her leaving well and found and beat her. Now she was scared and vulnerable.
She must be vulnerable. Otherwise, Ford would not have found her here, attending one of Grayson’s early-evening, soul-perfecting seminars.
With the summer sun low in a clear blue sky, the doors to the Cold Plains Community Center opened and a throng began to emerge. He spotted her almost immediately. She wore white cropped pants with a dark blue-and-white sleeveless blouse. All he’d seen of her was a picture, but it was enough. She walked slowly beside the taller Lacy Matthews, the owner of the posh and trendy Cold Plains Coffee.
The two must have struck up a friendship, thanks to the seminars. Another bad sign for the newcomer. Lacy was well on her way to no return. Ford wouldn’t be at all surprised if she alre
ady had a D for Devotee tattooed on her hip. Grayson liked to brand his truest followers that way. If Gemma wasn’t careful, she’d be drawn into his secret tattoo parlor just like the others.
As the women drew closer, Ford couldn’t help noticing Gemma in a very different light from the one that brought him here. Small-boned, almost fragile, she had a tiny waist, slender hips and breasts a little larger than a handful. Lean and sexy. Though her lower lip and nose were still swollen and the cuts and bruises on her face were still clearly visible, he could see she was a beautiful woman. Silky dark hair waved gently as she moved and she had the softest brown eyes he’d ever seen.
Putting a stop to his wandering fascination, he circled back to his purpose here. His job was to question her about her ex-husband and then find and arrest him, not ask her out on a date.
The first of the attendees to leave the building passed. Some greeted him warmly, others looked over in suspicion. Why was Police Deputy Ford McCall dressed in uniform and standing beside his flashy, department-issued Escalade, in front of Samuel Grayson’s community center? Was he waiting? Who was he waiting for? Ford found it ironic that no one batted an eye over the higher-ranking officers driving such pricey vehicles. This was Cold Plains, the city where beauty and prosperity thrived. It was only natural that city officials suited the culture while they worked to keep the town safe. If the Chief of Police, Bo Fargo, wanted to spend that kind of money, who was Ford to complain? He was more concerned with the unsolved murders and mysteriously disappearing residents, all occurring in the time frame Samuel Grayson had been here.
“Ms. Johnson?” he called when Lacy and Gemma were about to pass.
Gemma stopped, and so did Lacy.
The seminar attendees who’d heard him paused with curiosity. An older woman ornamented with diamonds smiled her approval. The police are doing their job, he could almost hear her thinking. Gemma had obviously been accosted, therefore, justice needed to be done. Someone had to purge the town of the thug who’d done it. Clean out the trash, as it were. Grayson would love that. But his reasons were different than Ford’s. Much different.
Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 52
