Son of a Gun Page 14

  Emma smiled. “He does like to be the boss.”

  “So you can imagine how often he and Hugh butted heads.”

  “How did you meet Hugh?”

  “Ah, now, that’s an afternoon in itself, but I’ll give you the short-and-sweet version. I was working in the office of a team of neurosurgeons. One day this gorgeous man walked up to the desk, and when he smiled at me, I practically swooned. Unfortunately, Hugh was there with his father, who had a very aggressive brain cancer.”

  “Were they able to save him?”

  “No, he died two months later. Hugh was living in a penthouse condominium in Dallas and was CEO of Lambert Inc. at the time. When his father died, he decided to name a new CEO and move back to the ranch. The night he told me of his plans was the same night he proposed. It took less than a heartbeat for me to say yes.”

  “That was pretty chancy, marrying a man you’d only known two months.”

  “It was quite a chance. Quiet, working girl marrying an affluent and vociferous oilman.”

  “Not your typical soul mates,” Emma said.

  “Far from it, but we were crazy in love. Little did I know then that I was in for the ride of my life.”

  “And you never had any regrets?”

  “Only that it ended too soon.” She brushed away a tear with the back of her hand. “When it comes time to marry, choose love over everything else, Emma. Always choose love.”

  Carolina stretched and massaged a kink in her neck. “Now I should get up from here and clean up this mess. And I don’t know how I forgot to mention this, but the sheriff stopped by to see you this morning.”

  “What did he want?”

  “To tell you that he was officially ruling Julio’s death as self-defense.”

  “Great. That makes my day.”

  “He’s going to call you later. He said something about needing your Social Security number to complete his paperwork.”

  Emma had said that the news made her day, and indeed it should have at least brought a smile to her face. But Carolina couldn’t help but notice the worry lines that were etched into her face.

  The same way they’d been etched into Damien’s face when he and Emma had returned a couple of hours ago. Her mother’s instinct told her the strain had to do with more than just locating Belle’s father.

  “If you ever need anything, Emma, don’t hesitate to ask. Or if you want to talk I’m available for that, too.”

  “Actually, I need to make a few long-distance phone calls. Would you mind if I use your phone? I’ll pay you for the calls.”

  “Call anyone you want. We get unlimited long distance.”

  “Thanks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go make the calls before Belle decides it’s time to eat again.”

  Carolina picked up the picture of Damien and Hugh again.

  I really wish you were here now, Hugh. Something is troubling Emma and Damien, and I think he could desperately use your advice.

  If you’re looking down on him, give him a hand. But leave off the lecture this time.

  * * *

  EMMA STRUGGLED TO FIGHT OFF yet another panic attack. You’d think fate would grant her a break every now and then.

  Carolina had made it sound so incidental. The sheriff wanted her Social Security number.

  If Emma gave him her real number, he’d find out she’d lied about her name being Emma Smith. If she gave him a fake number, he’d still find out she’d lied.

  Either way, lying to him would undoubtedly lead to his reopening the investigation. It was a lose-lose situation.

  And all for nothing. Telling him her real name would have been fine. No one had been looking for her when she’d been kidnapped. No one had ever looked for her.

  All the nights she’d comforted herself with the belief that people were searching everywhere for her… All the times she’d convinced herself that someone would surely tie her disappearance from Misterioso Island to Caudillo and come to her rescue… It had been a sad, sick joke.

  After the terrifying months she’d spent imprisoned on that horrible island, she was now about to be arrested and locked up again. The irony didn’t stop there. This time she had been accused of murdering an animal who’d tried to rape her.

  Damien was certain he could fix everything. But he couldn’t.

  In the end, Caudillo would win. He’d kill her and then sail away to exotic ports in his lavish yacht and laugh at their efforts to bring him down.

  She looked up at a tap on her door. “Come in.”

  Damien stepped inside. “I have good news.”

  The look on his face suggested it wasn’t. “What is it?”

  “The detective thinks he may have located Belle’s father. I’m going into Fort Worth to check out the lead.”

  “When are you going?”

  He glanced at his watch. “In about ten minutes.”

  Emma took a step backward as a bizarre sinking sensation overtook her, as if she were being pulled into a dangerous current. She struggled to get hold of her emotions. She should be hopeful this would work out. Belle needed her father. And once she was with him, Emma was free to leave the Bent Pine.

  She’d lose both Belle and Damien, but eventually she’d lose them both anyway. She had no claim on either of them. And even if she did, Caudillo would find her too easily here.

  “I’m going with you, Damien. And no arguing this time. If I’m going to release Belle into this man’s care, I have to know he’s the real father and that he’ll take good care of her.”

  “Then meet me at the truck in ten minutes.”

  She’d be there in five. At least this way she was doing something.

  * * *

  THE BAR WAS CROWDED AND NOISY.

  “There’s a small table in the corner,” she said, nodding in that direction.

  “I have a better view from here,” Damien said as he scanned the room. “I’d like to size him up before we approach him.”

  Emma scanned the room as well but saw no one who resembled the computer printout photo Damien had shown her on the drive into Fort Worth.

  “He’s standing at the far end of the bar,” Damien said. “Wearing the blue plaid sport shirt and a pair of what looks to be new jeans. Apparently, he changed out of his work clothes between here and the construction site.”

  With that description, Emma spotted Juan Perez quickly. He lifted a can of beer and chugged it down. Then he leaned over a young woman standing next to him and grinned as if she’d just said something tantalizingly entertaining.

  Anger fired inside Emma. “If’s that’s Belle’s father, he doesn’t deserve her. Not when the ill mother of his child died trying to get his baby to him.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  “I already have. I don’t like him—not that my opinion changes anything. How do we do this? I mean, we can’t just step up to the bar beside him and tell him his Mexican girlfriend is dead and his kid is in the States.”

  A waitress stopped at Damien’s elbow and smiled at him as if he were the knight in denim armor she’d been waiting for all her life.

  “What can I get you?”

  He turned to Emma. “How about a margarita?”

  “Nothing for me,” she said. “Not yet.”

  “I’ll have a Lone Star.”

  “Want to run a tab?”

  “Sure. We may be here for a while—but we’re moving to the empty table in the back.”

  “No problem. I’ll find you wherever.”

  “I’ll just bet she would,” Emma said when the waitress walked away.

  “It’s all about the tips.”

  Emma was almost certain that Damien had no idea the effect he had on women. It was more than his rugged good looks. It was his stance, his swagger, the vibe he put off. He was a man in control but without being controlling. Few men pulled it off so well. None that she’d ever met.

  She took one of the chairs at the new table and watched as Damien approached Juan. Sh
e couldn’t hear the conversation, but she saw Damien motion to the bartender to bring the man another beer. When he got his beer, the two of them joined Emma at the table.

  “So exactly how is it you know my parents?” Juan asked.

  “Actually, it’s the mother of your daughter we know,” Damien said.

  Juan scooted his chair back a few inches and put up his hand as if warding off blows. “You’ve got the wrong man. I don’t have a daughter.”

  “Did you have a pregnant girlfriend in Mexico?”

  “I thought so, but turned out it wasn’t my kid.”

  “How do you know that?” Emma asked.

  “She told me when she decided to marry the other guy. So now I don’t even have a girlfriend. I was working on changing that when you interrupted.”

  “When was the last time you talked to the girlfriend in Mexico?” Damien asked.

  “A few months back when she called to blow me off. But my mother told me she had the baby just last week. It’s a boy.” Juan pushed back from the table and stood. “Look, I don’t know how you got my name, but you have the wrong guy.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t have a two-month-old daughter named Belle?”

  “You got it. I hope you find whoever it is you’re looking for, but believe me, it ain’t me.”

  Relief washed over Emma, but she didn’t want to examine it too closely. She might find that she was relieved that she didn’t have to give up Belle yet, instead of being glad she didn’t have to give her up to a man she didn’t like.

  “It looks as if we made the trip to Fort Worth for nothing,” Emma said.

  “But since we’re here, I know a great little Italian restaurant where we can have dinner.”

  “We should check with your mother first. She may have plans for the evening.”

  “I checked before we left home,” Damien said. “She said to stay as late as we wanted. She seemed to be in a really down mood, so if anything, watching Belle may help her out of the dumps.”

  “She misses your father very much.”

  “I know. She keeps reminding all of us that healing from grief is not instantaneous. She says it ebbs and flows.”

  “Then we should definitely give her this time with Belle. Besides, I have a serious problem I should probably discuss with you.”

  “If it’s that serious, we should have that margarita first.”

  “Bring it on.”

  A drink in a neighborhood bar where music blared from a jukebox and chatter and laughter filled the room. It seemed so natural, as if this were real and the hellish life on Enmascarado Island had been only a nightmare.

  To trust that fallacy would be a deadly mistake. But right now all she could think of was the man who was sitting next to her and melting her resolve.

  She had to snap out of this, and the best way to do that was to jump right back into the complicated web of lies and danger.

  Once she’d tasted a few sips of the margarita, she took a deep breath and plunged into the next dilemma.

  “I fully expect Sheriff Garcia to haul me away in cuffs within the next couple of days.”

  Damien shook his head. “Not a chance. He’s already ruled Julio’s murder self-defense. Mother said she’d told you that.”

  “Yes, but now he wants my Social Security number. When he finds out I lied about my name, he’s almost certain to arrest me.”

  “Just give him your real number and your real name. Tell him you lied because you panicked. He won’t press charges.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “He knows Carolina likes you. He’s not going to mess with the friend of someone who makes sizable contributions to his campaign.”

  “So he ruled Julio’s death self-defense strictly based on the fact that I’m staying at the Bent Pine? That sounds a lot like corruption.”

  “It was self-defense, Emma. Let’s just go with the theory that the sheriff was smart enough to recognize that.”

  “So you think it’s a nonissue?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  She finished her margarita in record time. It was the first one she’d had since the kidnapping, and in spite of everything, being here with Damien made it taste even better than she remembered.

  They lingered with their drinks, not talking, but oddly comfortable with just being together. Emma struggled to stay in the present for a few minutes and to block Caudillo from her thoughts. She needed this moment to hold on to when Damien was just an old memory.

  If she lived that long.

  A country ballad started to play and the dance floor suddenly became crowded. Emma tapped her toe to the beat.

  Damien laid his hand on top of hers. “Would you like to dance?”

  “Yes. I’d like that.” They got up and he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

  He held her close, their bodies touching as they swayed to the music. When the music stopped, he didn’t move away. She looked up and met his gaze. The desire she saw in his eyes was hypnotic.

  His lips lowered and touched hers. She melted into the kiss, her pulse exploding like fireworks.

  But then a shudder started deep inside her and she felt as if Caudillo’s shadow had fallen over her, making everything dark. She stiffened and pulled away.

  “I’m sorry if I came on too fast.”

  “It wasn’t you.” She fought back tears.

  “It’s okay, Emma. You need time. I understand.”

  “I guess maybe horror ebbs and flows like grief,” she said. “Recovery is definitely not instantaneous.”

  “He’s not behind you yet, Emma. When he is, your real recovery can start. And he and his threats will be out of the picture one day soon. I promise you that.”

  But Damien couldn’t know what he was up against.

  Damien led her from the dance floor as a new crowd of dancers gathered around them. “How about dinner now?”

  But she wasn’t sure her emotions could handle an intimate dinner with Damien. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather just grab a burger and head back to the ranch.”

  “Then a burger it is.”

  “If you don’t stop being so accommodating, you may never get rid of me.”

  “Who said I want to?”

  * * *

  DAMIEN DID NOT SHOW UP FOR breakfast the next morning. Nor had he shown up by midmorning when Emma and Belle joined Carolina on the back porch.

  Belle was having an exceptionally good day. Emma had spread a blanket on the sofa next to her and then placed Belle on it so that she could kick and swing her short arms at will while Emma kept careful watch.

  “You’re just being a real sweetheart this morning, aren’t you, Belle? I think you like it here. Did you have fun without me last night?”

  “I’m not sure how much she liked it,” Carolina said, “but she kept us entertained. Grandma talked to her more than she’s talked to Sybil in the last month.”

  “You certainly get along well with your in-laws,” Emma said. “Have they always lived here with you and your family?”

  “Pearl has,” Carolina said. “Only, she didn’t live with us as much as we moved in with her. Remember I told you that Hugh had a penthouse condo in Dallas up until his father died from the brain tumor? He moved here then and when we married, Pearl turned over the master suite to us.”

  “What a thoughtful thing to do.”

  “Yes, except that I felt as if I’d displaced her. She ignored my protests, said she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the bedroom that she’d shared with her husband all those years. I didn’t understand that then, but I’m beginning to.”

  “Maybe you’ll feel differently in time.”

  “Perhaps, but this house is meant for raising families. It will belong to Damien when I die, so I’d be just as happy to turn the main wing over to him when he’s ready to marry and begin a family of his own.”

  “What about Tague and Durk?”

  “They’ll each own one-third of everything w
hen I’m gone except the house. Hugh insisted that as firstborn Damien be the one to keep the house that has been in the family for generations. But I fully expect Tague and Durk to build their own houses on the ranch when they marry, even though Durk will likely always have a place in town. Their roots to the ranch run deep.”

  “I’m sure they must.”

  “And you asked about Sybil. She came to live with me ten years ago when her husband died. He was a general in the army, but even though he was from the D.C. area and had traveled all his life, he loved it here on the ranch. They’d planned to retire here, but he had a heart attack one year before he could make that move. Naturally, I invited Sybil to move in with us. There’s plenty of room here for everyone to have their own space.”

  “I find it remarkable that you all get along so well together.”

  “All it takes is patience and love—and lots of prayer.”

  “Do you know where Damien is today?” Emma asked.

  “He only said he had some business to take care of,” Carolina said. “I promised to entertain you today, and I have some ideas for how to do that.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can find plenty to do around here.”

  “Then do me a favor,” Carolina said.

  “If I can.”

  “Get me out of the house. Join me for lunch and then I’ll take you and Belle on a drive around the area. I’ll show you the school where all my sons went, and then if we have time, I’ll show you where we attend church.”

  “I’d love that, but I don’t have an infant seat for Belle.”

  “You do now. I had a friend pick one up for me when she was in town yesterday.”

  “Then I accept your offer.”

  “Great. Why don’t we plan to leave here about eleven-thirty.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  But not eager. Emma was growing weary of playing the role she’d assigned to herself and sick of having to lie to Carolina. She couldn’t go on like this much longer, especially when her leaving was inevitable. Today might offer the perfect opportunity to ask Carolina if she’d take on the task of finding Belle’s father.