ROYAL'S CHILD

by Sharon Sala

  "I won't be gone more than half an hour or so," Royal said.

  Angel nodded. "It will be all right," she assured him. "I know how to use a phone … and my fists."

  Royal hugged her. With the laundry between them, it was hard to get close. She laughed when his hand got tangled in a sheet. He lowered his head, tasting the sweetness of her skin and breathing in the soft sigh that escaped her lips.

  "You know something?" he whispered.

  Mesmerized by the heat she saw building behind his eyes, she shook her head in slow denial.

  "No, what?"

  "The luckiest day of my life was the day you got caught in that rain." Then he kissed her.

  Angel dropped the laundry. It fell on their feet as she slid her arms around his neck.

  He groaned and pulled her close, then closer still, and it wasn't enough for what he wanted to do.

  "Daddy!"

  He groaned again. "Duty calls," he said softly, then brushed one last kiss against her mouth. "Hold that thought."

  Angel sighed. "For how long?" she asked.

  He grinned. "For as long as it takes. Trust me. I'll make it worth your while."

  She was still smiling when the back door slammed. She bent, gathered the laundry she'd dropped and headed for the washing machine.

  * * *

  Tommy Boy never bothered to unload his stuff. It was risky enough just being here. He didn't plan to be around long enough to need a change of clothes. All he knew was that opportunity had been dumped in his lap. It was up to him to take advantage. He stood at the window, peering through a dusty pane and watching the house. Sooner or later the cowboy would surely leave. When he did, Tommy Boy would be in and out long gone before they knew what hit them. It did occur to him that he would be leaving more witnesses behind. But he'd figured that all out. After this was over, he was thinking of going to Canada. He'd lived in Chicago all his life. Maybe going home wasn't so good, after all. Maybe it was time for a change.

  His persistence was rewarded. Justice and the kid he'd seen yesterday got into the blue Chevy truck. He didn't see the woman anywhere. He grinned. That meant she was in the house alone. When they headed his way, he stepped back from the window, unwilling for them to see him staring. To his relief, they kept on going, past the bunkhouse and the barns and up through some gates in a pasture above the main house. He patted the side of his pants, feeling the bulge of the knife in his pocket. No time like the present.

  * * *

  Royal's attention was divided between Maddie's chatter and the cattle he needed to move. But the farther he got from the ranch, the more anxious he became. He glanced at the picture she was drawing and managed a grin. He recognized Flea Bit. That was the one with a tail and four legs. The rest of them were up for grabs.

  Sensing she was being observed, Maddie tried extra hard with what she was drawing, but the pickup was bouncing too hard to be very exact.

  "Daddy, you need to slow down. I'm having a very hard time."

  "Sorry, honey," he said. "But we're almost there. As soon as I stop, you can crawl in the truck bed and draw all you want, okay?"

  "Okay." She sighed, set down her crayons, then got on her knees to look out.

  A couple of unusually quiet minutes passed with Maddie staring intently out the back window and Royal growing more and more uneasy.

  He kept thinking of last night and the dream Maddie had. The man on the road. She'd said the man on the road. Why would she have worded her warning exactly that way? It had to have been something she overheard. Something to do with Angel's testimony to the FBI or something he and Roman had said. But what? They'd been so careful every time the subject came up.

  He glanced at Maddie. She was crying. Not loudly, just big silent tears running down her face. He hit the brakes and parked, then pulled her into his lap.

  "Baby, what's wrong?" asked. "Are you sick?"

  "I want to go home."

  He frowned. Not once in her entire life had Maddie ever wanted to stay in the house in lieu of a trip to the pasture with him.

  "But we're almost there," he said. "It won't take long to get the cattle moved into the other pasture. You know. You've watched me do it before."

  But her story didn't change and her tears wouldn't stop. "I want to go home."

  Exasperated, he made her look at him. "Can you tell me why?"

  "I don't know," she sobbed and hid her face on his shirt. "I just need to go home."

  He heard it then. It was a small change in words, but a whole different meaning from want to need.

  "What do you mean, you need to go? Are you afraid Angel is going to bake cookies without you?"

  "No, Daddy, no." Then she started to sob. "I can't tell you or you'll get mad."

  Guilt hit him hard as he swiped at her tears with his handkerchief. "Baby, no. You can tell Daddy anything you need to tell him. I promise it will be all right."

  She sniffed loudly and blew into the handkerchief when he held it to her nose.

  "You swear?" she asked.

  "I swear."

  "It's the lady. She wants me to come back."

  A chill made the flesh crawl on the back of his neck, but he made himself stay calm.

  "How do you know?"

  "’Cause I saw her. She waved at me."

  "Saw who, baby? Who was waving at you?"

  Maddie looked at Royal, gauging his mood. Then she sighed. "The lady who sits on my bed."

  He couldn't think what to say.

  Sensing she was losing his interest, Maggie began to beg. "It's true, Daddy. I swear it's true."

  Royal set her on the seat. "Buckle up," he said shortly.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  He wouldn't look at her because to do that would be to admit she was right.

  "Hand me the phone," he said.

  Maddie opened the glove box and dropped the cell phone into his hand.

  He punched in the numbers to Roman's office as he was turning, telling himself he was doing this for Maddie and not for himself.

  "Roman, it's me," he said when he heard his brother's voice.

  "Glad you called," Roman said. "I was about to call you. Nathan Dean called about an hour ago. His flight was delayed in Denver. It will be sometime this evening before he can get to the ranch."

  Royal felt sick. "Who the hell's Nathan Dean?"

  "The man I hired to replace Rusty," Roman said. "Why? Don't you still want him?"

  Royal hit the brakes and shoved the truck into park. It was all he could do to breathe.

  "My sweet Lord," he groaned.

  "What's wrong?" Roman asked.

  "About an hour ago a man knocked on our door wanting a job. He said his name was Fred Wilson. I thought it was the man you sent. I left him at the house with Angel."

  Roman was out of his chair and reaching for the gun he kept locked in his desk. "It may be nothing, but I'm on my way."

  "It'll take me a good fifteen minutes to get back to the house," Royal said.

  "I'll call Deaton on the way out," Roman added.

  Royal's voice was shaking. "Call me back."

  The line went dead in his ear. Royal looked at Maddie. She was staring straight ahead, wide-eyed and silent. If he needed proof of his daughter's sincerity, he had it. She was never quiet for long.

  "Hang on, baby. The ride's going to be rough."

  When her coloring book slid onto the floor, she ignored it. When the box of crayons went bouncing after it, she never moved. Her gaze was fixed on something the rest of the world couldn't see.

  * * *

  Angel reached above the washing machine to the soap box on the shelf. The box was in her grasp when she felt a draft at her back. Her first thought was that the door hadn't latched when Royal and Maddie left. She turned and froze, her hand on the soap box and the beginnings of a smile on her face. Her heart dropped. She was supposed to lock the doors.

  He was different, but she recognized him just the same. And when he spoke, s
he knew she was right. That voice and those washed-out green eyes. It was him. She didn't waste her breath on a scream. She just threw the soap in his face and ran.

  He had expected, at the least, a hello. Instead, soap powder went up Tommy Boy's nose and into his eyes. He heard her running and leaped, rather than stepped, in the direction of the sound. He fell flat on his face. While he was struggling for a foothold in the tiny white pellets of soap, he could hear her getting farther and farther away. It was just like that day in Dallas when he'd watched from the grass in the center median as they turned the corner and disappeared. Only this time there wasn't going to be any sign on the door of a truck telling him where she'd gone.

  Finally, it was rage that got him past the soap. He ran through the house, searching room after room. She was nowhere in sight. And while he knew there were probably places she could hide, instinct told him she was already gone.

  He ran outside, the switchblade open and clutched in his hand. His eyes were burning unbearably, and there was a strong taste of soap on his tongue.

  "You bitch!" he screamed. "You're gonna pay."

  * * *

  Angel was halfway up the ladder to the barn loft when she heard him shout. Even though the sound was far away, it startled her, causing her to miss the next step. Momentum slammed her body against the wall, and suddenly she was hanging by the tips of her fingers. Pain ripped through her leg as breath left her body. She bit her lip and groaned. Her grip began to slip. In panic, she clamored to regain a foothold. Only after she felt the wooden slat beneath her foot did she realized she could take a new breath. Desperate to get out of sight before he saw her, she resumed her climb. Blocking out pain, she made it to the top with less than a minute to spare.

  In the loft, she frantically searched the flat, open spaces for a good place to hide. Except for a loose mound of hay toward the back and a dozen or so bales on her right, there was none. She glanced through a crack in the wall. He was coming this way. She stifled a groan. It was too late to find a new place. In another minute, he would be in the doorway.

  She looked at the loose mound of hay. It was where she and Royal first made love, but there wasn't enough of it to hide in. Her only option was the bales. She darted toward them, crouched in the farthest corner and bit her lip to keep from crying. Her heart was racing, her muscles trembling from the massive adrenaline rush.

  "You won't get away," he yelled.

  She stiffened. He was here!

  She closed her eyes, making herself focus until the sound of her breathing was almost nil. Then she waited, trying not to panic at the high-pitched, singsong voice of the man.

  "It's all your fault, you know. If you'd just kept your mouth shut, no one would ever have known. But that's just like a woman. They never know when to shut up."

  She shuddered and shrank into the shadows.

  He was going from granary to granary, from stall to stall. She could tell by the sounds of slamming doors and muffled curses. And she was hiding above his head, trapped and weaponless. If only she hadn't climbed to the loft.

  "They didn't matter. Not really," Tommy Boy called. "I only killed whores. Filth of the earth. Spreaders of disease. They destroy families, you know. If you'd left it alone, I would never have come back. But you saw me, didn't you?" He laughed. "You must have taken a good look at me then to have recognized me today. Not even my daddy would know me like this."

  Something slammed. Angel winced. He was getting angrier, she could tell.

  "Little Miss Do-gooder," he sneered, and threw a pitchfork across the aisle. It stuck in the dirt, swaying like a Saturday night drunk. "They deserved to die. They killed my daddy and lots of other good men like him. I made them sorry … then I made them pay."

  Angel wanted to stand up and scream. The suspense of not knowing when or if he would appear was as frightening as the man himself. But she stayed. She couldn't give up on Maddie and Royal, and she wouldn't give up on herself.

  Blood oozed from the wound along her shin, and she winced as she moved to an easier position. Easy does it, she thought, and made herself concentrate on something besides the pain.

  "I never killed an innocent," Tommy Boy said. Then he chuckled. "Until you. Are you an innocent little Mex or are you a whore like the rest and just better at hiding your dirty little world?"

  Angel shook her head. The man was crazy, and she needed a plan. It was silent. Too silent. She listened. Praying for the silence to continue, because she knew all too well that if he started up the ladder, she would know from the creaks and groans of the wood as it gave to the weight.

  Tommy Boy had missed the ladder when he'd run into the barn. It wasn't until he was at the other end of the aisle and looking back the way he'd come that he saw it. When he did, he started to grin.

  "Hey, missy, missy, missy," he called, giggling. He was calling to her like one would call for a cat.

  He started to climb then realized that the open knife in his hand was a hindrance. Confident that he was in total control, he hit the lock on the switchblade and flipped his wrist sharply. The blade slipped into its sheath with a resounding click. He dropped it into his pocket.

  "Now then," he muttered to himself and started to climb.

  About halfway up he saw a dark splotch of red on the step. He touched it. It was wet. He grinned.

  "Hurts, doesn't it?" he yelled, chiding her, goading her, feeling the power of total control. Then he looked at the opening above. Just a few more feet and he would be there.

  * * *

  Angel was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. His taunts were like swords through her soul. As badly as she wanted to believe her life wouldn't end in this way, it was getting harder and harder to pretend.

  She heard him calling out to her as if she were an animal. Kitty, kitty, kitty, as if she would have no better sense than to come running. Frantic, she looked around the loft, praying for an answer, for anything that would give her another way down.

  Fur brushed her elbow, and it was all she could do not to scream. Her heart was pounding. She looked at the cat winding itself in and out of her arms as she braced herself on the floor.

  Dumpling! It was Dumpling, probably searching for supper. With all those kitty mouths to feed, she was forever on the hunt.

  She gathered the cat against her breasts and buried her face in the old cat's back, remembering the way Maddie would love her and talk to her as if any minute the old cat would stand up and talk.

  A board creaked on the other side of the floor. He was here! Only God could help her now.

  From the corner of her eye she saw a quick flash of gray and another of blue. Dumpling was starting to squirm in Angel's arms, and she realized the old cat had brought her kittens to the loft, probably teaching them to hunt. She hunkered down, waiting for Royal … waiting for a miracle.

  * * *

  Tommy Boy was getting antsy. He was tired of the games. He wanted them over, and now. The cowboy wouldn't stay away forever. He needed to be long gone before the cowboy came back. He palmed the knife and released the blade, taking comfort in the click as it locked into place. Once he realized she was in the loft, a new solution to his problem had come into play. He didn't have to cut her to kill her. He could break her neck. A headfirst dive through the opening in the floor would make her death look like an accident. He could leave in the middle of their grief and no one would be the wiser. It was perfect. All he had to do was get his hands on her, and it would be over.

  "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," he called, liking the way the words felt on his tongue.

  He hadn't planned on getting the real thing, and in so many sizes. They came running out of the hay and out of the shadows. Two of them, then three of them, then five, crawling over his shoes and mewling at the top of their lungs. He didn't know they expected a treat.

  "What the hell?" he shrieked, and kicked out, sending a kitten flying into the air. It landed with a squeak, then scampered away. "Get back! Get back!" he yelled, all the
while moving to stay out of their way. It was an impossible feat.

  He stepped on a tail first and then another's small paw. Two identical cries of pain sent old Dumpling scrambling out of Angel's lap and flying across the floor to her babies' aid. Snarling and spitting, she launched herself at the intruder, landing square in the man's bare face.

  He screamed from shock and the sharp, ripping pains. The knife clattered to the floor as he reached for the cat with both hands. But it was too late. It was a hit-and-run affair.

  He turned in a circle, screaming at the top of his lungs and looking for a cat to kill. Where there had been numbers, now there were none. At some silent message from Mama, every single kitten was gone.

  Everything had turned into a blur of red as blood dripped from his scratches and into his eyes. He sank to his knees, trying to find the knife he'd dropped. Without it he felt undressed.

  Angel stood as he screamed, quickly assessing his condition and her options for escape. He was on his knees between her and the opening in the floor. Her chance was slim, but thanks to Dumpling, it was better than it had been before.

  She saw him searching for the switchblade while blood ran in both eyes.

  God help me, she prayed, and bolted.

  Tommy Boy heard her coming and started to stand. But she was too fast, and he was too blind to dodge what was coming. She hit him with her body, sending him sprawling again, and escaped through the hole in the floor.

  "Son of a holy bitch!" he screamed, then saw the knife. Moments later, it was in his hand and he was flying down the ladder, half-blind and moving on instinct and rage.

  Angel was running across the barnyard toward the back pasture. The way she saw it, she just might outrun him. And if she was lucky, she would run into Royal before the man ran her down.

  It felt good to no longer be trapped. She wanted to shout from the excitement of the escape. Instead, she lengthened her stride, felt the wind in her hair and the sun on her face and knew that this wasn't the day she would die.

  * * *

  Royal was driving so fast, he wasn't even hitting the low spots. Foreboding rode beside him like a ghost, reminding him that he'd promised he would keep Angel safe. It had been such a stupid thing to do—driving away and leaving Angel with a man he'd never seen before. Rationally, he knew the timing of the incident had been perfect for deception. But he could have stayed. Should have stayed. He prayed as he drove that he would get a chance to tell her he was sorry.