Kitabı oku: «Cornered At Christmas», sayfa 2

Chapter Two

Kimberly’s husband turned toward her and took a few steps in her direction. No. No. No. Go back.

Seeing her babies, their sweet faces, was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. The twins were one-year-old now and she’d known their first-year checkup would be around this time. It wasn’t difficult to call the scheduler of the pediatrician she’d meticulously vetted to get the exact day and time.

Pain nearly crippled her but she fought against the tide of emotion. She couldn’t lose control. There was too much at stake.

Life was about to spin out of control. Again. Seeing her twins one more time was a risk that Kimberly Kent—correction, Lily Grable—had had to take. The past eleven months had been excruciating, like living in a cave with no prayer of sunlight breaking through the darkness.

Life had taught Kimberly how to deal with loss early on. But nothing had prepared her for walking away from the only man she could ever love and the babies she’d only dreamed were possible. Happily-ever-after was for princesses, not orphans like Kimberly. And now she risked making all of that heartache count for nothing if Mitch recognized her. Or worse if the men watching her connected the dots to her family.

Panic seized her.

Let Mitch get a few steps closer and he would make a scene. She let herself take another look at him even though the grip around her heart from before tightened the minute she did.

Mitch looked even better than she remembered. At six foot four he’d always dwarfed her. His wide chest and ripples of muscles were visible underneath his Western shirt. Those muscled thighs... She could see wisps of his sandy-brown hair from the rim of his gray Stetson. The color of his hat would match the steel of his eyes.

Maybe she could play it cool and Mitch would stop. There was no way he could realize who she was with as much as she’d changed her appearance. Right? She looked at her husband from out of the corner of her eye and her stomach fell. He was too curious to give up, and that was bad.

He’d expose her, himself and the babies. She glanced toward the pair of men who’d found her. They’d seen her but had they pegged her? Did they know who she was? That was the big question.

Kimberly eased around the back of the sculpture, forcing her body to move away from Mitch when every muscle inside her wanted to run toward him instead. She breathed in the heavy Texas autumn air and tried to block out the memories of feeling safe in his arms. A storm was brewing and the humidity kicked up a few notches alongside her pulse.

Her heart pounded against her ribs at the thought she might be bringing the men who were chasing her right to her husband and children’s doorstep. Whoever had killed her father and was now after her seemed ready to stop at nothing. The men wouldn’t think twice about using her children or Mitch to draw her out. And even after two and a half years she had no idea what they wanted from her. All she knew was that her father had gotten himself into trouble. Beyond that she had no idea with whom or how. Her street smarts had kept her alive. She’d immediately changed her identity and gotten out of New Mexico.

But those creeps always seemed to catch up no matter how well she hid.

She’d had no choice but to disappear after giving birth, once the creeps had shown up in Jacobstown, Texas. She still had no idea what they wanted from her. Her father had left her a cryptic message to stay in the shadows until he cleaned up his mess hours before his death—a death that had been ruled an accident, but Kimberly knew better. There was no way her father would’ve drowned. He couldn’t swim and was deathly afraid of the water, although he’d never admitted to that fear. The man had never once been out on a boat, so it made even less sense that he would’ve rented one, taken it out and then—what?—decided to jump off the side and swim for the first time in his life?

Guilt nipped at her. She’d known he was in trouble but she had been too involved in work at the small craft boutique and night school to stop to ask why. Her father had been acting strange for months, missing their dinner dates and not picking up his cell when she called. His behavior had been erratic and she could kick herself for not pressing him for details about why he was acting so weird. She’d honestly and naively believed that he’d tell her if something was really wrong. He’d always been her rock and she’d been able to count on him. Losing her foster mom to kidney disease had been hard on both of them. At the time she had thought that most of her dad’s antics had to do with grief.

Looking back she should’ve seen the signs. Should’ve taken him more seriously. Should’ve been a better daughter to the man who’d taken her in when she was at her lowest point and saved her life.

“You’re scaring me, Dad,” she’d admitted when he’d asked her to get rid of her cell and use the new one he’d handed her.

“I’m being cautious,” he’d defended. “Make your old man happy and use the phone.”

“Only if you promise to tell me what this is about,” she’d said.

“I will. Give me a couple of days to get it sorted out first,” he’d promised.

“You’re sure this isn’t a big deal?” It had felt like one with the way he was acting.

“I owe someone a little money and they’re blowing it out of proportion.” He’d winked at her. “Nothing I can’t handle. I just don’t want you being bothered until I get this sorted out.”

The only reason she’d left it at that was because he’d seemed embarrassed. She’d thought maybe he didn’t want his creditor calling her, so she’d left it at face value.

Guilt was a face punch. If she’d pushed him for answers, he might still be alive.

When Deputy Talisman had all but accused her of foul play in order to inherit her father’s business, she’d been defensive. It had become clear to her pretty quickly that she was going to be the target of his investigation. And then two men had busted into her apartment in the middle of the night. She’d barely managed to escape and had been on the run ever since.

Marrying Mitch had been done on a whim. The almost-immediate pregnancy had been a shock. And she would pay the price for those lapses in judgment for the rest of her life, which would be short if the creeps following her caught up to her.

A part of her wondered if this whole ordeal would ever be over. Could she come back to the life she’d loved with Mitch and the babies?

Reality said it would be impossible.

Her heart galloped at the sight of her husband moving toward her out of the corner of her eye, along with her sweet babies, who turned one today. Birthdays were supposed to be happy events. But being this close without being able to touch her children felt like knife jabs to her chest.

Knowing that the twins would be at the office of the pediatrician she’d meticulously vetted prior to having those two little miracles had made it far too tempting. Going anywhere near Jacobstown, Texas, or the ranch was and had been off-limits. Those were lines she knew better than to cross. No matter how much she wanted—no, needed—to see her babies again, she couldn’t risk bringing the creeps she’d been running from for an exhausting two and-a-half years to their doorstep. And then there was Mitch...

Seeing him again hurt.

Leaving a question mark in her husband’s mind about her death wasn’t ideal—a determined man could be dangerous. And part of her wished she could’ve confided in him, wished he could save her. She’d been close to confessing in the days before finding out she was pregnant. She’d known he would put his life at risk and she’d needed him to focus on protecting the twins.

How stupid had she been when she’d met him to think she could ever have a normal life? A normal life with kids and a man she loved, who loved her in return more than anything else?

That kind of love had been too powerful to turn her back on and had seduced her into thinking she could disappear into obscurity in the small town where she’d been hiding.

Mitch was everything a man should be to her—strong, virile...honest. Lying to him about her identity had been even more difficult because of that. Kimberly had been lying to herself for so long that she’d all but forgotten how to be truthful anymore. And maybe that’s what had drawn her to the serious rancher with the steel-colored eyes.

Falling for Mitch Kent had been the easy part. She’d done that hard. Apparently she’d knocked a few screws loose when she’d made that tumble, because she’d landed in a fantasy that said if she kept a low profile, everything in her life would magically work out. But there were a few determined men who wanted to erase her presence. By the time she’d met Mitch, she’d already been running for six months.

A part of her wished—prayed—that he would forget all about her. The other part—the selfish part—couldn’t go there even hypothetically. She wanted him to remember her, to love her.

“Kimberly,” he said from behind her, and there was certainty in his voice instead of a question.

Certainty would kill them all.

A glance to the right said Mitch wasn’t the only one about to close in on her. She felt like a mouse trapped in a maze.

There had to be something to use to create a distraction so she could get out of there. The air thinned, making it difficult to breathe.

A middle-aged woman wearing jeans and a light sweater walked toward her from the south with a black Lab on a leash. Kimberly bolted toward the woman and forced a smile.

“Can I pet your dog, ma’am?” she asked, pouring on the sweetness.

The woman beamed.

“Of course,” she said as she went on about the dog’s age and pedigree.

Kimberly dropped down to one knee before unhooking the leash in the bustling complex.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the confused woman before popping to her feet. She shooed the dog. “Run!”

The black Lab darted toward the fountain as the woman gasped and then called after him.

Okay, Kimberly felt awful for doing that and wished there’d been another way to create a diversion. In the heat of the moment, that was all she could think of.

With another quick apology, Kimberly wheeled left and sprinted away from the pediatrician’s building. A pair of heavy footsteps sounded from behind and she could tell by their rhythm that they were faster than her, racing closer and gaining ground.

At least Mitch would be stopped because of the stroller. Seeing those angelic round faces threatened to cripple her, but she couldn’t afford to give in. She had to protect what was hers. Stuffing her feelings down deep helped her focus.

Kimberly’s best chance to lose the pair of creeps catching up to her was to get lost inside the hospital behind the pediatrician’s office. She knew the area and that would give her an advantage. There would be armed security and the men following her wouldn’t risk making themselves the center of attention by pulling something stupid. She hoped.

At least she could draw them away from Mitch and the babies. Kimberly sprinted around another building, trying to lose the men in the maze of buildings. Her thighs burned and her lungs were starting to wheeze.

The footsteps behind her stopped. Her worst fear seized her. Were the men circling back for Mitch?

Her breath caught and her heart screamed no.

How stupid and selfish had she been to come here? The past eleven months had been about taking calculated risks and watching her back at every turn. She’d just led those men practically to Mitch’s doorstep. Kimberly bit back a few choice words, refusing to let negativity drag her under.

With the stroller, it would be impossible for Mitch to catch up to her. She’d cleared a few buildings and had crossed over to the front of the hospital, slowing her pace to a brisk walk as she entered through the automatic glass doors.

Activity buzzed all around her, and the modern lobby looked like a coffeehouse, with tables sprinkled around and folks on their laptops. The main difference was the fact that doctors and nurses cut across the open space, making their way to restricted-access areas.

Taking a chance, Kimberly checked behind her for the men. Nothing. Her heart took a dive.

Where were they?

MITCH FLEXED AND released his hands on the grip bar of the stroller. He’d scared a woman half to death by thinking she was his dead wife. Wasn’t this turning into a banner day?

He wished he’d gotten a good look at Bleached-Blonde’s face before she’d put her arm up to shield it and then disappeared in the commotion after a dog got loose from its owner.

Great. Now he could add scaring strangers to the already stressful morning he was having.

Thankfully the twins were clueless. Rea happily cooed and chatted, and Aaron took everything in while sucking on a pair of his fingers.

The men who’d been eyeing the Bleached-Blonde seemed to have given up on her. They’d returned to the plaza before heading toward the parking lot. It was probably Mitch’s imagination that had him thinking those two were after her. He could add paranoia to his growing list of deficiencies.

The news from Lone Star Lonnie had thrown Mitch for a loop, on top of everything else he was dealing with, and maybe he was starting to crack. That was the only explanation for why he believed that he’d just seen his dead wife. She was on his mind even more than usual today. It was time to get back to reality, including getting his babies to their appointment.

Mitch pushed the stroller through the opened double doors and then took the elevator up to the third floor. He checked in and then waited.

A few minutes later he was ushered into the blue room to wait for the doctor and find out how much his life was about to change. Again.

Good news came from the pediatrician. Rea looked to be growing out of her heart defect. She’d have to continue to be monitored, which he’d expected, but the hole in her lower valve seemed to be closing on its own. Gratitude washed over Mitch, bringing a few stray tears to his eyes.

The drive from Fort Worth to Jacobstown gave him the chance to fill in his siblings and cousins, thanks to Bluetooth technology and his cell phone. Joyce, the twins’ caregiver, met him on the driveway. She’d decorated the dining room with balloons and went to work serving lunch and cake to celebrate before taking the kiddos up for their naps.

Mitch had kissed both babies before picking up the fresh flowers he’d ordered and heading out the back door.

Joyce was a sweet woman in her late sixties who’d helped bring up Mitch, along with his siblings. She’d managed to wrangle six Kent children before retiring years ago but when she’d learned one of her “babies” was having babies, she’d insisted on returning to care for them.

Lucky for him, Kimberly had welcomed Joyce’s help. The fact that she’d taken to the idea had caught him off guard at first. Kimberly had always been a private person. And that was where his luck had run out.

Sitting on the bench he’d carved out of solid wood beside the tallest oak on the property, he looked down at the marker. Kimberly Kent—loving wife and devoted mother.

She wasn’t supposed to be buried there. His mind pointed out that she technically wasn’t. It didn’t matter. Kimberly Kent was gone.

He crossed his boots at the ankles.

When the twins were old enough, he’d bring them here to see their mother. He set the fresh flowers down—lilies. Her favorite. They reminded him of her, of her fresh-from-the-shower scent.

The wind started to pick up as a few more gray clouds rolled in, reflecting his somber mood. Rain was in the forecast, in the air, and it had been drier than a salt lick all week.

The feeling of being watched settled over him. Amber? One of his brothers? He scanned the meadow but saw nothing. Further proof that he was losing it.

The idea anyone could be in the meadow without his knowledge hit hard. Someone had been on the ranch undetected. The sheer amount of acreage owned by the Kent family made it impossible to monitor every inch. But still...

His gaze dropped to the plot of land in front of him.

“I saw you outside the pediatrician’s office today,” he said to the green grass over an empty grave. “Even though it couldn’t have been you, I wanted her to be.” He paused, choking back the emotion threatening to consume him—emotion that he’d successfully buried. “Rea’s doctor visit was good. She’s going to be just fine.” Another pause to get his emotions in check. “I miss you, Kimberly.”

Mitch cursed. Now he was talking to dirt.

He pushed up to stand as an empty feeling engulfed him, threatening to drag him under and toss him around before spitting him out again like a deadly riptide.

Pain made him feel alive after being hollow inside for months. The ache in his chest every time he took in air was the only reminder he was still breathing.

A prickly feeling ran up the back of his neck, like when someone said a cat walked over a grave.

Mitch didn’t do emotions, so why the hell were his like a race car at full speed, careening out of control and toward the wall today? His baby sister’s words from last year kept winding through his thoughts, drowning out logic and reason, the two things he was good at.

What if she’s alive? What if she’s still out there?

Mitch touched the grave marker, dragging his fingers across the smooth granite and into the grooves made by the letters of Kimberly’s name.

And then he tucked his feelings down deep before texting Lone Star Lonnie that he was on his way to check out the heifer before it rained.

Walking away from his wife’s grave was especially tough today. His thoughts were heavy as he made his way to the base of Rushing Creek, on the northeast side of the property.

Even though he’d prepared for the worst, the site still caught him off guard. Blood was everywhere. His heifer was on her right side in a pool of red on flat land. There was no sign of a trap that could’ve taken off her hoof and messed up her leg like that. She’d bled out and that would’ve been a slow death.

Anger roared through him as he thought about how much she’d suffered. It was inhumane to do this to an animal. Lone Star Lonnie had downplayed the situation with the heifer, Mitch thought as he stood over her.

Everything inside him felt as torn up and drained as the lifeless heifer next to him.

Whoever had done this would be brought to justice.

Chapter Three

The pitch-black night sky was a dark canopy overhead. Thick clouds smothered the moon, blocking out any possibility of light. Rain came down in sheets. The conditions were a problem. There’d be tracks. Kimberly couldn’t afford to leave a trail or any sign she’d been there.

If the storm continued, there’d be no issue. Flash floods were common in this area of Texas and could wash away her hiking-boot prints. If the weather dried up, anyone could follow her based on the imprints she made.

She stepped lightly, careful to weave through the low-hanging branches rather than break them—again another way to track her movements. Being on the run had taught her to leave the smallest footprint possible. Leave a trace and someone would find her—the creeps following her had already proven that more than once. She’d racked her brain, thinking how they could’ve picked up her trail leading to the pediatrician’s office earlier.

Kimberly cursed under her breath as tears threatened. How could she have been so careless? So stupid?

Guilt nearly impaled her.

She couldn’t sit by and watch the only people she loved get hurt because of her. She had to make this right. She prayed that she could find the right words to convince Mitch to leave with the babies and disappear.

Seeing her alive would shock her husband. And he would hate her for what she’d done to him, to their family. Not that she could blame him. Sharp stabs of pain spiked through her, because she would feel the same way if the situation was reversed.

That wouldn’t stop—couldn’t stop—her from doing what she needed to do.

Being on the ranch brought back other memories. Memories that punched her in the stomach. Memories of being under this same sky on a starlit evening with Mitch’s arms around her, feeling like she could slay her fears and stay right there for the rest of her life. Then there were all of those Sunday-morning breakfasts in bed after passionate nights.

They’d when she’d rented a cabin on Lake Orion. On her weekly trip into town for supplies was when she’d first seen him. She’d been at the lake for a couple of days already and had worn her hair down around her face, a light cotton T-shirt and a simple pair of jeans with tennis shoes.

Mitch had come up behind her while she stood in line with her small cart filled with everything she’d need for two weeks for a single person. He didn’t speak to her right away, but she turned to look at him the minute she felt the strong male presence. It seemed like every single woman in the place came over to say hello while he stood in line behind Kimberly. Mitch was handsome—no question about that—but he also had a sexual appeal that made women blush when they spoke to him. The pitch in their voices raised and it was so easy to tell they were flirting.

Kimberly thought her eyes would roll into the back of her head when one of the women nearly knocked over the media stand while she complimented his boots. There’d been so much bemusement in his voice—a deep voice that trailed down the sensitive skin of her neck and wrapped around her—when he thanked the woman that Kimberly had almost laughed out loud. The ladies had been so sickeningly sweet that Kimberly wanted to throw up.

Her reaction must’ve been written all over her face when she turned to get another look at the all-male presence stirring up all of the commotion behind her. Yeah, she’d been rubbernecking but she couldn’t help herself. She had only a couple of weeks to be in town and she needed to see what all the fuss was about.

The second she turned and got a good look, she realized her mistake. Her cheeks flamed, her throat dried and a thousand birds fluttered inside her chest, leaving her to wonder, Who is this man?

Her hand fell slack and she dropped her wallet, spilling change all over his boots, which actually were nice. If embarrassment could kill a person, she would’ve dropped dead on the spot. Lucky for her, it couldn’t. And the tall, muscled cowboy had dropped down to help her collect her things.

He’d been gracious and generous and all of the things she figured a cowboy code would require. But when his fingers grazed her palm as he handed over her quarters and pennies, pure electricity shot through her. Her body hummed and based on the look in his steel-gray eyes when their gazes connected, he felt the current every bit as much.

After introducing himself, he’d asked if she would have dinner with him that night.

It took a few seconds for logic to kick in and for her to remember how dangerous that would be for both of them, but it did and she refused—albeit without conviction. She thanked him for helping her, turned and was grateful she was next in line. The cashier acknowledged her with a smile as she busied herself placing her items on the motorized belt. Inside, she concentrated on trying to breathe as the cashier ran her items across the scanner.

Kimberly’s pulse raced and all she could think about was getting out of there and back to the privacy of the cabin on the lake. She fumbled for the right dollar amount. Using cash was another way to stay off the grid.

The handsome cowboy had followed her to the parking lot as she loaded groceries into the plastic container she’d fixed onto the back of the dirt bike she’d bought from a seventeen-year-old boy who went by the name Smash. Based on the condition of the dirt bike, he’d earned that nickname, but she didn’t care. All she’d needed was reliable transportation to get her to and from the store and something she could use for a quick escape if the need arose.

Experience had taught her to be prepared for anything and especially the pair of creeps who always seemed to be one step behind.

“You sure about dinner?” he’d asked with the kind of smile that made women go weak at the knees as he held out a fistful of coins. She knew for sure because her legs almost gave.

It had most likely been that moment of hesitation—that too-quick smile—that had him showing up two days after she’d refused him in the lot.

The rain had been coming down in sheets on that day, too.

“What are you doing here?” she’d asked as she opened the door to find him standing on her porch, waterlogged and even more handsome than she remembered.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you for two days,” he’d said, and her heart pounded so hard against her ribs, she thought they might crack. There he stood, with rain trailing down the brim of his gray Stetson. He wore a black V-neck T-shirt that, soaked with rain, outlined every one of his mass of muscles. “Tell me to leave and I will. I’ll leave you alone. You have my word. Agree to have dinner with me and we can go anywhere you like.”

As he stood there, with rain dripping from his tall, muscled physique, all of her willpower—and good sense—took a hike.

“Only if we stay here,” she’d said. “We have to stay inside.”

His face had broken into a wide smile—the same one that had seduced her willingly by the third night. And then less than two months later he’d proposed.

Tears sprang to her eyes at the memories. Walking away from Mitch Kent had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever done.

And setting foot in the house they’d once shared was going to be right up there.

MITCH RUBBED BLURRY eyes as he heard a noise come from another room for the second time. He glanced at the clock as he muttered a curse. The twins shouldn’t be up for another few hours.

In a past life, he would’ve slept right through the small creak. Having babies had trained him to jump at the first noise. If he entered the room fast enough, sometimes he could solve the problem before the other woke up. Let it go even for a few seconds, and he’d be dealing with two fussy babies and not enough arms to hold them both. Joyce had volunteered to move into the guest room half a dozen times, but Mitch had refused every request. Her heart was in the right place; she wanted to make his life easier. But Kimberly wouldn’t have wanted it that way. She might’ve agreed to receiving Joyce’s help during the day, but she wouldn’t want another person taking care of their babies overnight.

Another creak sounded and he was awake enough to hear it clearly now.

He threw off the covers and slid into the jeans on the chair next to his bed. This noise in the next room had nothing to do with the twins.

Was someone inside his house?

His hardwood floors creaked in exactly three places in the hallway. The first two had already made noise.

And now came the third. His adrenaline surged, flooding his body with heat.

Someone was walking toward his bedroom.

The twins’ room was across the hall and a fleeting thought struck that someone was coming for them. But who could that be? And how in the hell did the person get past ranch security?

It took a minute for that to sink in.

Another thought struck that it could be one of his family members, but that couldn’t be right, either. His brothers and sister would’ve called if there’d been an emergency. There was no way his cousins, Zach and Amy, would show in the middle of the night without calling. Those would be the only people who could get past security.

Mitch double-checked his cell in case he’d silenced his phone instead of switching it to vibrate. He thought about the heifer, and for a split second he thought the butchering might’ve been a warning.

The doorknob turned, so he jumped into action. Whoever thought they were going to get the best of him had another thing coming.

In two seconds he stood next to the door. It opened toward him, so it would shield him as the intruder stepped inside.

This probably wasn’t the time to realize his shotgun was locked in a gun cabinet, a precaution he took for the sake of his children. Even if he could get to it, it wouldn’t do any good. The shells were locked in a drawer.

As the door eased open, Mitch held his breath. He had his physical size, athletic conditioning and the element of surprise on his side, and that was about it. He had no idea what could be pushing through on the other side of that door.

In that moment he regretted not arming the alarm. He’d put one in, based on his wife’s insistence, but never used it now that she was gone.

Another few seconds and he’d be ready to grab whoever crossed that threshold. And he hoped like hell it was only one person.

Mitch flexed and released his fingers. He was ready.

A smallish—at least in comparison to his size—figure slipped inside. He took a step toward the intruder and grabbed whatever he could, wrapping his hands around the person’s upper arms. The intruder seemed familiar but he dismissed the thought.

Until the person kicked where no man wanted a foot and he gulped for air. The intruder put their hands on top of his and then dropped to the floor, breaking his grip. This person had skills.

“Stop it and I won’t hurt you,” he warned through sharp intakes of air. He was still trying to regain his footing after taking a hit to the groin.

Before the intruder could scoot away completely, he had a fistful of shirt material. He took another knee in the same spot, ignoring the pain shooting up his abdomen and causing his gut to clench.