The Divine Creek Ranch Collection, Volume 1 [Book 1 - Divine Grace, Book 2 - Her Gentle Giant, Book 3 - Heavenly Angel] (Siren Everlasting Collection)

by Heather Rainier

  “I was afraid you would be amused by such a shy little mouse coming to visit you.”

  Angel chuckled at her description of herself. “Hmmm, a shy little mouse? Is that how you saw yourself? I remember thinking you were an angel, coming to me like that.”

  “Wow. You are such a smooth talker.” She giggled as his hand slid possessively around her hip.

  “I’m being completely honest.” He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head again as they entered the cool shadows of the barn door.

  * * * *

  Early December

  Angel patted his couch, and Teresa sat down with him and looked into his light brown eyes. He still seemed a bit concerned about her going out with the girls for Rachel’s surprise bachelorette party.

  “You’re sure you want to go tonight?”

  Teresa smiled at him reassuringly. “I do, Angel. Rachel is my friend, and I want to celebrate with her. Adam said he’d get me a seat right behind him, so that I wouldn’t need to worry about the dancers touching me. I think it will be fun, and I’ll stick close to him. What about you?”

  “I was worried you might be jealous of me going to a strip club, sweetheart. It would be understandable.”

  “I don’t mind if you want one of the girls to dance for you, Angel. I know you’re not going to do anything…physical with any of them,” she said. Adam had also told her that the club they were visiting had a strict hands-off policy. If the men touched the dancers, they were ejected from the club.

  “I appreciate your trust, but…” It was rare for Angel to be at a loss for words.

  “But what?”

  He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips. The simple gesture garnered a big response. His lips left a slightly damp trail of kisses over each pad of her fingertips. Her inner core blossomed with heat. “I want a lap dance from only one woman. Any other would feel a little like cheating.” He lowered her hands and grinned sheepishly when she gasped at what he was insinuating. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  Her heart raced at the thought. She looked up into his eyes and saw the heat and desire there. “You’re imagining me doing that with you right now, aren’t you?” She surprised herself by giggling. How did one “give” a lap dance?

  “Well, I am a man. And I am in love with you. It only seems natural, sweetheart.”

  Her core melted at his open honesty. She kissed him again. “I can’t believe I’m able to talk to you about such things and not go up in flames or rush from the room in embarrassment.”

  “I like that you feel more at ease with me, and you can look into my eyes more comfortably now than before. You were raised with quite a few burdens placed on you, and then the hand life dealt you couldn’t have made it any easier.”

  She’d come out to the ranch a couple of nights before, after leaving Michael with Marissa for the evening, and showed up at his door a little agitated. He’d just gotten out of the shower after a long day. He’d answered the door in nothing but a pair of blue jeans, his hair still dripping, towel in hand. She’d told him that continuing their relationship without him knowing about her past was verging on dishonesty. He’d welcomed her in and told her he would accept whatever she had to tell him about her past, but that it wouldn’t change how he saw her.

  “I’m sorry for not confiding in you sooner. I was afraid to tell you everything at first. I think I had begun to believe what people told me back home, that I had done something to bring it on myself. Once I realized I could trust you and that you wouldn’t judge me like that, it never seemed the right time. Then other times we had Michael with us, and I couldn’t tell you with him around because he understands more than he lets on. Then work got so hectic with all those extra hours for both of us and Rachel’s accident and planning Rachel’s wedding, it was just never the right time.”

  Chapter Six

  The story Teresa had told him hadn’t shocked Angel, but it had made his heart ache for her. Given her previously skittish nature, especially around men, Angel had begun to understand that the events surrounding Michael’s presence in her life were probably painful and traumatic for her. He understood now why she was as shy and nervous around him as she had been at first.

  Her father had hired a home renovation contractor, Ranulfo Ferraro, to install a wheelchair ramp on their front porch because her mother had been confined to her wheelchair. As it had turned out, Ranulfo’s parents had been old friends of her parents, and they’d known each other well before either couple had children. He’d asked Teresa out several times and had even spoken with her father about it. Her father had given his approval, and she’d had lunch with him one time. She’d told Angel that Ranulfo had been nice enough, if a little pushy and macho. He’d wanted to kiss her and to go out with her in the evening alone to his place to watch a movie. Even as sheltered as she’d been, she’d known better than to do that.

  He’d told her he loved her long hair and would run his fingers through it, which she didn’t care for at all. The way he’d done it had made her feel tethered. Ranulfo had become more persistent about her going out with him, and she’d found herself making excuses. He’d moved too quickly for her, and she’d told him so. The construction project had dragged on, and she’d wondered if he was allowing it to take longer on account of her. Late one afternoon, she’d just refused his most recent invitation to a date and had told him she simply wasn’t able to see him anymore. He’d accepted her decision, though she knew she’d angered him. Two days later, the ramp had been completed. He’d called several times, asking if she was seeing someone else. Finally, she’d told her father that Ranulfo’s pursuit of her bordered on stalking. Her father had called Ranulfo’s parents in the hope they might be able to talk him into leaving her alone. They’d seemed offended but had said they would speak with their son. The call hadn’t had the desired effect.

  Mr. Palacios had taken Mrs. Palacios to bingo every Tuesday night in Tillman. Because of her declining health, it had been her only social outlet besides church. Teresa’s elderly father had his own health issues, as well, and it wouldn’t be too many years before they would need full-time care. It had worried her because she’d hoped to go to nursing school the following year. Fifteen minutes after her parents drove away, the doorbell rang. She’d answered it, realizing too late it was Ranulfo. He’d looked sad and ashamed, and he’d begun to apologize. She’d felt bad for him and had accepted his seemingly heartfelt apology.

  It had been very hot outside, and she’d foolishly invited him in for a glass of iced tea. She’d brought them both glasses of iced tea, and he’d asked if she had an aspirin because he had a terrible headache. She’d returned with it, and he’d thanked her kindly and took it. He’d apologized again and seemed so sincere. Uneasy with his repeated apologies, she’d sipped her glass of tea and had waited for him to wind down so she could end the conversation and ease him out the door.

  In telling the story, Teresa had gone quiet for a few seconds, seeming to gather the nerve to tell Angel what had happened next. Angel had done his best to be a quiet, comforting presence sitting next to her, not asking her a lot of questions. He’d already surmised what came next.

  She’d told him her memories were blurry, as she’d recalled for him, watching Ranulfo smile wolfishly and take the tea glass from her slackening hand.

  She’d returned to consciousness some time later in terror and horrible pain. At first she’d been so scared she couldn’t even move, but eventually she’d called out, and no one had answered.

  Teresa had sat up, shocked by her nudity and in searing pain. She’d looked down and had seen blood smeared over her thighs and between her legs. Her breasts had ached and so had her right shoulder. She’d pulled the top sheet from her bed, shocked when she saw more blood smeared on the pink sheets of her bed. When she’d been able, she’d stumbled painfully to the bathroom and screamed when she’d seen her reflection in the mirror. Her breasts were covered with bruises, her nipples were r
aw, and she’d seen teeth marks. She’d also discovered a painful bite mark on her right shoulder where his teeth had left a perfect imprint where they’d broken the skin.

  Her next words further stoked the fury inside Angel. She’d blushed and looked right into his eyes when she’d said them, which humbled him because he knew how hard it must have been for her to tell this story. “He raped me on the bed I’d slept in every night since I was a little girl. I was a virgin…and he raped me.”

  She’d stayed in a hot shower until the scalding water had finally run cold. Because her parents had never allowed her to be exposed to programs or information that dealt with traumatic topics, she didn’t know that was the worst thing to do in case of rape. Her sobbing efforts to erase his painful assault washed away all the evidence of his attack.

  Scared and afraid of frightening her mother into another heart attack, she kept the assault to herself and prayed for guidance in what to do. She’d contacted a friend from school who was now a sheriff’s deputy under the guise of having questions about neighborhood children playing in the drainage tunnels near her parent’s home. He’d paid a visit the following afternoon. When she would have brought up the subject of what to do about Ranulfo, her father had come outside and gotten involved with the conversation about the drainage tunnels.

  She’d never been able to ask him but had a feeling Allen knew she’d wanted to talk to him about something else. Realizing her father would not leave her alone, a single woman talking to a single man, she’d finally taken the card Allen had offered. He’d written a private cell number on the back of it along with a short note, Call me if you need me, Teresa, and then he’d bid Mr. Palacios and her a good evening. Pocketing the card, she’d reassured her father when he’d mentioned her unusually quiet demeanor of the last couple of days.

  At the grocery store one afternoon, she’d run into Allen. He’d greeted her, discreetly asking her is everything was all right with the drainage tunnels, arching an eyebrow at the reference so she would know he understood there was some other underlying reason she’d called him. She’d wanted to tell him what had happened to her, but she’d come to realize she had no real evidence.

  He’d intuitively asked her about Ranulfo and if she had dated him. She’d gripped the handle of her shopping cart with white knuckles. Allen had caught on, even though she hadn’t answered any of his questions, and he’d reminded her he was there if she needed him and would she please call him when she was ready. She’d nodded, and he’d reluctantly backed off.

  Six weeks after the attack, feeling fatigued and suffering from violent nausea, she’d made a visit to their family practitioner only to discover she was pregnant. She’d been confident her doctor had upheld his obligation where her confidentiality was concerned, but someone else who worked in his office leaked the information. Overnight the whole town knew she was a single expectant mother with no father in sight.

  The final straw had come the night Ranulfo’s mother had called, offering to buy the baby. She’d told Teresa once it was born she’d pay cash for it whether it was a boy or a girl. Mrs. Ferraro had hinted insultingly that she would know whether or not it was really Ranulfo’s baby with one look at it. When Teresa had recovered from the shock of the woman’s offer, she’d vehemently refused to consider it and had told the woman neither she nor her baby would have anything to do with Ranulfo and his family. Ranulfo’s mother had gone on to insinuate that Teresa might not have a choice in that matter and that it was always possible she might find herself declared an unfit mother. In which case the child’s paternal grandparents would of course step up and do the “right thing” and claim the poor, unfortunate baby.

  The thought of that woman raising her child in the same way she’d raised his father horrified Teresa. She’d been certain that she’d made a monumental error in not contacting the police the night of the first attack. She’d been naïve and ignorant in her response to the attack because she would have had all the evidence she needed. Now she had the end result of the attack to deal with. What mattered now was that she’d had to get away from Tillman. Angel had understood why she’d never gone home for a visit.

  She and her parents had a long, painful conversation at the dining room table that same night. Teresa had told them she was leaving and where she would go. She’d had a good friend from school who had moved to Divine, which was three hours away. Juliana had talked with her recently and offered her a job at the store she managed, if she ever needed one. Teresa had called her before sitting down with her parents, and Juliana had offered her a place to stay, as well, after she shared the circumstances with her. Juliana had promised she would not tell anyone she knew in Tillman that Teresa would be coming to stay with her.

  Her parents had tearfully promised they would not reveal her whereabouts to anyone. Teresa had contacted an old friend of her mother’s whom she’d known all her life and could trust. Teresa would need an alternate way to communicate with her parents besides the usual means. She’d called Allen and told him she was expecting and that she was leaving. Teresa had given him her address and new cell phone number. She’d told Angel that she would never forget how sad he’d sounded at her news.

  She’d packed that night then loaded her car with her belongings and left Tillman before the sun had even risen. Juliana had welcomed her with open arms and allowed her to stay until she’d found a small apartment that would be affordable and safe for her and the baby once it arrived. Teresa could never find it in her heart to blame the baby for the radical changes that had been thrust upon her. It wasn’t the baby’s fault that the one who made him had no conscience or heart, nor that she had been assaulted.

  She’d fit in well at Stigall’s Department Store. At first it had been hard talking to strangers, but need was a powerful motivator, and before long, she’d begun to feel like she fit in Divine. Teresa made a good friend in Grace Stuart who was a kindred spirit of sorts with her own set of domestic challenges in the form of a good-for-nothing, live-in boyfriend. As if to make up for all the pain she suffered at his father’s hands, Michael’s birth and infancy were joyous events.

  “Do you hear from your parents often?”

  “Yes, my father calls me from their nursing home on a monthly basis. He and my mother share a room. Her health is not good, and her mind has begun to wander a lot. I hear from Delores on a regular basis, and Allen still checks on me every so often. He told me Ranulfo is in trouble right now for contracting and taking payment for jobs he never finished and with the IRS for getting creative with his tax returns. This is one situation his parents’ money may not be able to get him out of. So, that’s my story.”

  He’d held her that evening and smiled as she’d told him she felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted off her shoulders. She’d said in the long run she’d gotten the only redeemable thing out of the whole ordeal in the form of her precious little son. Michael was the spitting image of Teresa’s father and looked nothing at all like the man who had brutalized her.

  Bringing them back to the present, Angel said, “We’re going to have a good time tonight. Later you and I can dance once we return to The Pony if you’d like.”

  “I’d love to. I was wondering if we could do that. I wanted to spend time with you, too. Not just go our separate ways for most of the evening.”

  “We won’t be at the clubs that late. It’s Saturday night, so we can do whatever you want to, beautiful.”

  Chapter Seven

  Late December

  Teresa sat cross-legged on the area rug in the little living room of her apartment, wrapping presents for Christmas, which was just two days away. Her hours were long and very busy ones, but even more so this Christmas season while she was covering for Margie’s bed rest and maternity leave, which had segued right into the busy Christmas season. With the extra income, she had been able to build up her savings account. It had also made Christmas not quite so stressful for her in the gift-buying department. She wrapped a new straw cowboy hat s
he’d splurged on for Angel, enlisting Grace and Rosemary’s help to find out what size he wore and what style he preferred.

  She smiled tenderly, her hands stilling on the box after laying it on the large sheet of wrapping paper. She’d taken the hat out to look at it the evening she’d brought it home. Michael had wandered into the room and asked, “Is that Daddy’s hat?” She’d made some comment about it being for someone else to throw him off the trail, knowing he’d tell Angel the moment he saw him, guileless toddler that he was. But his innocent little words kept ringing in her ears.

  That was the first time Michael had referred to Angel as “Daddy,” but Teresa was honestly surprised he hadn’t said it before now. Angel had helped her out several times, caring for Michael when she’d been asked if she could stay late to help during busy evening hours and once when her daycare provider had gotten sick. Michael would tell her all about riding the “horsies” when she picked him up. Angel told her Michael was turning in to a good little rider.

  Angel had been busy around the ranch, working with other horse owners who brought their mares for breeding. He was never too busy, however, when she needed his help. Grace told her on the occasions when she saw Michael with him that Michael was usually riding on Angel’s shoulders or getting piggybacked, even when other horse owners were around. Thinking of the loving care he showed her son made her heart bloom with tenderness for this man.

  Angel had asked her the week before what her plans were for Christmas morning. After ascertaining that she hadn’t made plans, beyond watching Michael open his Christmas presents, he’d asked her if she would spend Christmas morning with him. She’d been surprised, but she’d happily agreed. She had assumed Angel would probably want to spend it with his brother who would arrive sometime soon or possibly go home to spend the day with his parents and siblings. Honestly, she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be Christmas morning than with the two most important men in her life.