Wyoming Cowboy Protection

by Nicole Helm

  “Telling me would be much easier,” Noah said drily.

  It sparked a lick of irritation through her. She didn’t care for this man of such few words ordering her around. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You aren’t my keeper. You aren’t even...” She trailed off, because it wasn’t true. No matter how quiet and stoic he could be, he had become her friend. Someone she relied on. Someone she worked with to keep the Carson Ranch running. It had given her so much in three short months, and she’d pictured Seth growing up here, right here. A good man.

  Just like Noah.

  Noah was her friend. Something like a partner, and wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that make all this seem possible? Which was why she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She’d made a promise to herself. No one else got hurt in this.

  “Noah, the truth is, I care about you.” Far more than she should. “I care about all of you—Laurel and Grady and Jen and...the lot of you who’ve made me feel like this was home.” She glanced toward the window, but she’d closed the curtains. Was someone out there? Waiting? Would they attack? “But the kind of danger I’m in is the kind I can’t bring on all your heads. I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” he said, still standing so close and so immovable. Like he could take on the evil that was after her. “I think you’d do anything, risk anything, to keep Seth safe.”

  Her chest felt like it was caving in. Because he was right. She would do anything. She didn’t want to bring the people who’d been so good to her into the middle of it, but what if it was the best bet to keep Seth safe?

  “And so would I,” he continued. “No little kid deserves to live in the shadow of the threat of violence, so we don’t run. You don’t run. We fight it. But I need to know what I’m fighting.”

  What was there to do in the face of Noah’s mountain wall of certainty and strength? She didn’t have any power against it. Not when she could all but feel the determination coming off him in waves. Not when he let Seth gleefully fall into his arms, and there was so much danger outside these walls.

  “Seth’s father is a dangerous man,” she whispered. She knew that was obvious and yet saying it out loud...

  “He knocked you around.”

  He said it like a statement, and maybe she should treat it like a question and refute it. But what was the point? “He’s a mobster.” She laughed bitterly. “I didn’t believe it the first time someone told me. As if mobsters are real.”

  “But he is.”

  Noah’s voice was serious. Not a hint of mocking or disbelief. Which hurt, because when Kelly had told her about Peter’s criminal ties, over a year ago, Addie had laughed it off. Then, she’d figured they’d call the cops. It had taken Kelly’s death for Addie to finally get it through her head.

  Kelly had been talking about going to the cops, telling them what little she knew. The very day after she’d told Addie that, she’d been shot and killed on her way home from the drugstore.

  A mugging gone wrong, the police had told Addie.

  But Kelly had been certain she was in danger and in that moment Addie had finally gotten it through her thick skull that Peter was not the kind of man who was ever going to pay for his crimes or listen to reason.

  He was a murderer and she couldn’t stop him.

  Kelly had kept Seth a secret, or so Addie had thought. But she’d gotten Peter’s first note ten minutes after the police had left her apartment informing her of Kelly’s murder.

  Too bad.

  She hadn’t understood at first. Then she’d gotten the next a month later.

  We’re watching.

  She’d taken it to the police, but they’d decided it was a prank.

  The next month’s letter arrived and had prompted Addie’s flight reflex.

  We’re coming for my son. And you.

  Peter was dangerous, and there was nothing...nothing she could do to stop him. Laws didn’t matter—the police had never helped her, and once he’d involved Seth she couldn’t trust law enforcement not to take Seth away from her.

  Right or good certainly didn’t matter when it came to Peter or the law.

  “He could have me killed and Seth taken away with the snap of a finger. But he doesn’t. I don’t know what game he’s playing. I only know I have to keep Seth safe. I thought we’d be safe here. Too isolated for even him to find, but I was an idiot. And now we have to leave.”

  “You won’t be leaving.”

  She looked up at him, wondering what combination of words it would take, because he didn’t understand. Maybe he wasn’t scoffing at the idea of the mob, but he didn’t truly get it if he thought he could keep her protected. “Noah, the cops couldn’t help...” She almost mentioned Kelly, but she couldn’t tell him about Kelly. Couldn’t tell him she couldn’t go to the police regarding Seth because she technically had no rights over her sister’s child. “...me. I tried. Who are you to stop him? I realize you and the Carsons fancy yourselves tough, Wild West outlaws, but you cannot fight the mob.”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  She blinked at him. “You have a screw loose.”

  His mouth quirked, that tiny hint of a smile she so rarely got out of him, and usually only aided by Seth. All hopes of more of Noah’s smiles were gone. Dead. She had to accept it. She couldn’t let him change her mind.

  “I don’t want you hurt,” she whispered, all the fear welling up inside her. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

  “Same goes, Addie.” He had started to lean back and forth on his heels as Seth dozed on his shoulder.

  It was such a sight, this big, bearded, painfully tough man cradling a small child to his chest. They were both in so much danger and she didn’t know how to fix any of it.

  “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep tonight. I’ll call up Grady and Ty in the morning and we’ll plan.”

  “Plan what?”

  “How to keep you and Seth safe.” He rubbed his big, scarred hand up and down Seth’s back.

  “They’re here, Noah.” Her voice broke, and she’d worry about embarrassment later. “They left me a note. They’re here. We don’t have time for plans.”

  She hadn’t realized a tear escaped her tightly and barely held control until Noah reached out, his rough hand a featherlight brush against her cheek, wiping the tear away.

  “Then we’ll have to fight.”

  * * *

  TRUTH BE TOLD, Noah didn’t know what a man was supposed to do when a woman told him the mob was after her, but he’d learned a long time ago that in the face of a threat, you always pretended you knew what you were doing.

  “Show me the note.”

  She backed away then, though not far. He didn’t think even at her most scared she’d back away from the baby sleeping in his arms. Seth was a nice weight. Warm and important.

  “Show me the note,” he repeated, in the same quiet but certain tone. The kind of tone he’d employ with a skittish horse and not, say, how he’d speak to his teenage cousin who annoyed the piss out of him.

  She inhaled sharply, but he watched the way she let it out. Carefully. Purposefully. She was scared witless, but she was handling it. Though he’d grown to know her, respect her even, the way she was handling this without falling apart was surprising him.

  She reached behind her and pulled out an envelope. “It was...” She paused and cleared her throat. She’d cried a few moments ago, just a few tears, and it cracked something inside him. But she was handling it now. Holding her own. Against the threat of a mobster.

  “It was on the floor. I assume slipped under the door.” Her face paled. “God, I hope that’s how it got in here.”

  Noah kept his expression stoic and his gaze on her, though now he wanted to search the house from top to bottom. Too many nooks and crannies. Too many...

  One t
hing at a time. That’s how things got built and solved. One thing at a time.

  Her hand was shaking as she held out the envelope. He could see her name written there. Addie Foster. Yet it didn’t matter what was in the letter. It mattered that Addie get it through her head he was going to protect her.

  He put his hand over her shaking one. “Let’s go to your room. We’ll put Seth down, and then I’ll make sure the house is secure.” He’d call Laurel, and she could decide how involved the police needed to be. “You know Laurel’s a cop, right? A good one.” He nudged her toward the hall.

  “I’m sure she is,” Addie replied, gaze darting everywhere as they walked back toward the bedrooms. “But the law can’t touch him.”

  “That might be true back where you’re from, but it ain’t true here.”

  She looked at him bleakly as they stepped into her room. “It’s true everywhere.”

  Noah was not a demonstrative person by any stretch of the imagination, but he had the oddest urge to pull her to his chest. Let her nestle right there where the baby was sleeping.

  Instead, he turned to the crib and transferred Seth onto the mattress. The baby screwed up his mouth, then brought his thumb into it and relaxed. Within moments his eyes drooped shut and his breathing evened.

  Noah glanced around the room. Nothing was amiss, and he knew for a fact the window didn’t open. It’d accidentally been painted shut two years ago, and they’d left it that way so they had a room to put Clint in he couldn’t escape without going through one of the main thoroughfares.

  The joy of teenagers.

  So, one room checked out and safe. Addie stood next to her bed, arms wrapped around herself, envelope clutched in one hand. She shook from head to toe. And why wouldn’t she? She’d been running from a mobster for how long?

  Noah’d be damned if she ran another mile.

  He eased the note from her grasp and then pulled the letter from the envelope.

  I see you, Addie.

  He muttered something particularly foul since the baby was too fast asleep to hear him. “I’m going to call Laurel.” She opened her mouth to argue, no doubt, but he kept going. “I’m going to check out the house. I want you to stay put, door locked, until I’m sure everything is secure.” She wanted to argue, he could see it all over her, so he played dirty. “You’re in charge of Seth. Stay put.”

  “I know you want to help,” she said, her voice raspy with emotion. “I also know you think you can help.” She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re up against.”

  It poked at the Carson pride he didn’t like to put too much stock in, but Carsons had survived centuries of being the poor-as-dirt underdog in the fight. Carsons always found a way to make it work, and even a mobster wouldn’t make that different. “And you don’t know what or who you’ve got in your corner.”

  She visibly swallowed. “I’m afraid, Noah, and I don’t know how not to be. He killed my sister. Seth’s father had her killed. I’ve taken his son from him. I’ll be lucky if all he does is kill me, too.”

  He couldn’t stomach the thought, and it was that horrible, clutching panic that moved him, that had him acting with uncharacteristic emotion. He touched her, too-rough hands curling around her shoulders. His grip was too tight. She was too fragile, and yet she didn’t wince or back away.

  Because she wasn’t actually fragile. He thought of that first moment he’d seen her, when he’d been so sure. He’d been wrong. She was brave and bone-deep strong.

  She looked up at him, all fear and hope.

  “He will not lay a hand on you,” Noah growled. “Not a finger. This is Bent, Wyoming, and we make some of our own rules out here. Especially when Carsons and Delaneys are involved. Now, you sit. Maybe make a list of all the players so Laurel knows who she’s looking for, and try to remember in detail everything that’s happened with Seth’s father so far. I’m going to search the house and once I know we’re safe in here, we’ll come up with a plan to stop him where he stands.”

  “If we escalate, he escalates,” Addie said miserably.

  “Then we’ll escalate until it’s finished. You’re done running, Addie Foster. You belong right here.” He’d do whatever it took to make that true.

  Chapter Six

  Addie’s eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and her throat ached from talking. Far as she could tell, she’d told her story—well, a version of it—four times. Noah first, then once to Laurel and Grady, once to Noah’s brother, Ty—who apparently had been an Army Ranger. Then she’d spouted the story all over again to a youngish-looking deputy in uniform.

  She left out the fact Seth wasn’t hers. If Peter being in the mob didn’t matter here, maybe Seth’s parentage didn’t, either.

  After the whole endless rehashing of it, Laurel and the other deputy, followed by Noah, Grady and Ty, had gone out to search the property. Noah’s cousin Vanessa had arrived to watch after Addie.

  “You’re babysitting me,” Addie said, watching the woman move around the kitchen.

  “Babysitting happens when you’ve got a mobster after you, I think.”

  Fair enough.

  Addie imagined Vanessa Carson was the kind of woman who’d know how to handle this on her own. She looked as infinitely tough as her brother, Grady, and male cousins. She had the same sharpness to her features, and there was the way she held herself. Like she knew she was right and she’d fight to the death to prove it.

  Addie wanted so badly to believe the Carsons could take on Peter and his thugs.

  But why? No matter how often Noah told her he’d protect her, she couldn’t figure out why.

  “This is an awful lot of manpower for the maid,” Addie said, a comment she might have swallowed if she hadn’t been exhausted, nerves strung taut. She stared miserably at Seth’s monitor. He’d wake up soon, and how was she going to take care of him without falling apart?

  The same way you’ve been doing for the past year. You’re strong, too, whether you feel that way or not.

  She liked to think of that as her sister’s voice urging her on, but she knew it was just herself. Kelly had always had more of a glass-is-half-empty outlook on life.

  “But you aren’t just a maid,” Vanessa said, as if it wasn’t even a question. “Noah runs the ranch, you run the house. That’s a partnership, at least—Noah’d see it that way. Noah doesn’t just employ people. He collects them.”

  When Addie only stared at Vanessa, trying to work that out, Vanessa sighed and walked over to the table, taking the seat across from Addie.

  “Noah’s got a soft heart. I think that’s why he hides it all with beard and grunts. I think some people were just born that way. Protectors. He doesn’t see it as a debt to be paid, or an inconvenience. Once you’re in his orbit, you’re his. Even if he doesn’t like you much.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Vanessa laughed, low and rumbly, just like the rest of the Carsons. “I’ve never thought Noah made much sense, so I agree. But it doesn’t have to. It’s who he is. It’s what he does. You know, Noah’s a firm believer in this feud business between the Carsons and the Delaneys. Delaneys are always out to get us, and messing with that is a historical recipe for disaster.”

  “But—”

  Vanessa held up a hand. “When Laurel was in some trouble before you moved here, Noah jumped right in to help. When Grady announced he and Laurel were shacking up...” Vanessa shuddered. “He was the only one who didn’t make a loud, raucous argument against it.”

  “I think they’re sweet,” Addie whispered, staring at the table. Even though it wasn’t the point. Even though her heart beat painfully in her chest. Noah was unlike any man she’d ever known.

  How differently things would have turned out for her and her sister if they’d had more honorable men in their lives.

  “Of course you do,” Vane
ssa returned. “You’re a Delaney.”

  Addie looked up at Vanessa’s sharp face, because she didn’t particularly consider herself family. “I guess, along the line, but—”

  “Here? Along the line counts.”

  “So Noah thinks I’m cursed, but he’ll protect me anyway?”

  “He will.”

  “But he’ll never see beyond the fact I’m a Delaney?” Another thing she shouldn’t have said. What did it matter what he saw her as? She was just his maid, even if that meant she’d fallen into the path of his protection.

  “Now, that is an interesting question,” Vanessa drawled. “If we weren’t worried about mobsters and such, I’d probably—”

  A faint sound staticked through the monitor. Both Vanessa and Addie looked at it. Then another sound.

  “It sounds like someone’s—”

  “Breathing,” Vanessa finished for her, and then they were both on their feet, scrambling toward the room.

  It could have been Seth, having a bad dream, puffing out those audible gasps of air. But she knew what her baby sounded like. Knew what odd noises the monitor picked up. This was not that.

  Vanessa reached the door first, pulling a small gun out of the inside pocket of her jacket. “If someone’s there, you let me deal. You get the baby and get out.”

  Addie nodded as an icy, bitter calm settled over her. She didn’t have time to be afraid. She could only focus on saving Seth.

  Vanessa quietly and carefully turned the knob, then flung open the door in a quick, loud movement.

  There was a figure in the window. Addie didn’t have time to scream or panic. She rushed to Seth’s crib and pulled him into her arms. She couldn’t hear anything except the beating of her heart as she held Seth close, too close. He wiggled and whimpered sleepily.

  It was only with him safely held to her chest that Addie realized there was shouting coming from outside. Vanessa was standing on the rocking chair, peering out what appeared to be a hole cut in the glass of the window.

  “What happened?” Addie asked, her voice no more than a croak. Safe. Safe. Seth was safe. It was paramount.