Midnight Rider Read online

  “It must have taken a lot of work to restore it.”

  “It took some time, but well worth it. Lila and Lacy love going for a ride in what they call their Santa Claus carriage. The difference between sleigh and carriage is a still a little fuzzy with them.”

  “I heard how excited they were at breakfast.”

  Adam laughed. “I don’t doubt that. They never go unnoticed. I missed the first three years of their lives and then almost lost them to a kidnapper. I know what they mean to me.”

  “They were kidnapped from the ranch?”

  “No, from Hadley’s mother’s house in Dallas. It’s a long story. I’ll save it for a cold winter night. We’ll get plenty of those in January and February. Right now you and the detective best get saddled up or the rest of the group will be hollering at you. The rules say we all leave at once and get back here in two hours.”

  “What’s the prize?”

  “The chance to have your tree in the family room at the big house. That’s where we all gather for stories and songs before midnight church services on Christmas Eve and for opening gifts on Christmas morning.”

  “That sounds like a lot of togetherness.”

  “It is, but there’s plenty of alone time on the Dry Gulch. Wide-open spaces. Best fishing and hunting in the county. Great swimming hole in the summer. I realize you have issues with R.J. We all did. We all had reason to. But you can’t hang on to past hurts forever. The old resentments will eat you alive.”

  Interesting theory, but Cannon wasn’t being eaten alive and he wasn’t buying the theory.

  “Guess I better get back to the tack room. I’m sure Brit is revved for riding.”

  He walked the few yards to where he had left everyone saddling their mounts for the morning ride. The horse barn was quiet and empty now. Well, almost empty.

  R.J. finished washing his hands in water from a hose spout and wiped them on the legs of his baggy jeans. “I was wondering where you got off to.”

  “I was helping Adam ready the carriage.”

  “Good. Glad you got to spend some time with him. He’s a good man. Knows more about life in his thirties than I ever learned.”

  Cannon didn’t doubt that. “Have you seen Brit?”

  “She left here a few minutes ago on Miss Dazzler. That’s my special horse. Wouldn’t let just anybody ride her, but I like Brit a lot.”

  “So do I.” More than he’d ever imagined possible. “What horse do you want me to ride?”

  “Raven. He’s already saddled and ready to go, and waiting for you at the corral. That’s the starting point for this competition Effie and Cornell are so excited about.”

  “I’d best head over there. Don’t want to keep the crowd waiting.”

  “Won’t kill ’em to wait another few minutes.”

  “You got something to say to me, R.J.?”

  “Just need to get a couple of things off my chest.”

  “Let’s hear them.”

  “I know I didn’t do right by you. I wasn’t there when your mother died, same as I wasn’t there for Leif and Travis. But I did try to help out when I could get my hands on some money. There wasn’t much of that back then.”

  “Hard to believe when there is supposedly millions now.”

  “I didn’t lay it out in the will, but I’ve told the others so I might as well level with you. I didn’t earn that money. Sure as hell didn’t save it.”

  “So where did you get it?”

  “I bought a one-dollar lottery ticket in Oak Grove. Damn thing hit the jackpot. Well, not one of those gigantic jackpots, but a few million after taxes was big-time for me. Went from poor rancher to millionaire overnight.”

  That explained a lot, though it didn’t change Cannon’s mind about the man.

  “I sent what I could to your uncle to help pay your way when you were growing up, Cannon. I know it weren’t much, but I paid for your braces like he asked me to. I borrowed and sent him the money for your medical expenses that time you fell out of the tree and broke your leg.”

  “You must have me mixed up with one of your other sons. I never had braces. I fell out of several trees, but I never broke any bones. You never sent me or my uncle as much as a birthday card.”

  R.J. shook his head. “I don’t have my facts mixed up. If your uncle says differently he’s a lying son of a bitch. Sorry to put it so bluntly, but that’s the dadgum truth. You believe who you want. I can’t do nothing about that. I just want you to know that there’s a place for you and Kimmie here and I’d be mighty proud if you decided to move to the Dry Gulch.”

  No ready response came to mind. “I appreciate you and the rest of the family helping out with Kimmie.” It was the only honest answer he could give without laying more guilt on a dying man.

  * * *

  THEY HAD TAKEN the horses to a trot and then a gallop, slowing again when the sting of the icy wind became more painful than the exhilaration.

  Brit stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake. “Just look around you, Cannon. The massive trunk and crooked branches of that ancient oak tree. The clear, rocky bottom of the shallow stream. The carpet of pine straw and crunchy leaves. I never dreamed the Dry Gulch would be this beautiful in the falling snow.”

  “Then enjoy. It won’t last long. It’s freezing this morning, but we’re supposed to reach a high of thirty-seven this afternoon. It will all melt.”

  “But it’s here now and beautiful. I love the way summer and fall tangle for control deep into the winter in this part of Texas.”

  “You seem to be loving everything today,” he teased.

  “Maybe because I had a great night.”

  “There’s more where that came from.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  They rode side by side along the stream for twenty minutes or more and then detoured into the woods.

  “You’d best start staking out the perfect tree,” Cannon said. “We’ll need to head back soon if we want to meet the deadline and get there before the hot cocoa and sugar cookies are all gone.”

  Brit scanned the area. “Do you have any idea how to get back?”

  “Sure. Just follow the north star.”

  “It’s daylight.”

  “I knew that sounded too simple to be true.”

  He was teasing. She should have known he’d been paying attention to the way they’d come while she’d just been enjoying the ride.

  Now it was time for her to do her job. She scanned the area as they walked the horses down a winding trail that went right through the woods. A few minutes later they came to a clearing at the top of a hill.

  And there it was. Standing alone. A beautiful evergreen. A trunk as straight as a fence post. Lots of branches laden with forest-green needles.

  “That’s it,” Brit said, pointing to the tree. She dismounted and untied the bow from the loop around her belt. Cannon took her reins as she darted off to crown her chosen tree.

  Cannon tethered the reins to a low-hanging branch of a sycamore tree and joined her.

  “It’s perfect,” she declared as she secured the bow to the highest branch she could reach.

  “Absolutely perfect.”

  Only Cannon’s voice had grown husky and his eyes were on her instead of the tree. He took her in his arms and she melted into his kiss as the snowflakes fell in their silent wonderland.

  If a moment could last forever, she’d choose this one.

  The moment didn’t last nearly long enough.

  “Do we have to go back so soon?” she asked when Cannon pulled away.

  “It’s my phone. It’s vibrating, but I can ignore it.”

  “We shouldn’t. It could be important.”

  “Okay. Your call.” He took the phone out of his pocket and looked at the display.

  “It’s the lab.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emotions Cannon couldn’t unravel crashed down on him. He hadn’t expected them to call on a Saturday. The past few days had be
en the longhand version of eight seconds on the bull, a tangled mesh of fear and anxiety and passion. He wasn’t ready for this.

  But he couldn’t postpone the truth.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Cannon J. Dalton?”

  “It is.”

  “We have the results ready from your paternity testing. You can pick them up Monday through Friday during our regular office hours.”

  “Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “Wait. Let me see if you specified that on your form.”

  He’d specified it. The wait seemed endless.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Dalton. You’re the father of Kimmie Marie Hamm.”

  The news hit like a bolt of lightning even though he’d thought he was prepared.

  “Would you like me to mail the full written report or would you rather come in and pick it up?”

  His emotions were spinning so wildly it took a few seconds to digest her question.

  “Mail it to the Oak Grove address that I gave you.”

  He barely heard the rest of her spiel. He turned off his phone and dropped it into his pocket.

  “I’m Kimmie’s father, just like you said.”

  She slipped her hands into his. “Are you okay?”

  He had to think about that for a moment. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m not sure about Kimmie. I have no idea how to take care of her.”

  “Most new fathers don’t. You’ll learn.”

  “Are you going to teach me?”

  “I’m as much a novice as you are. I realized that the week she stayed with me. But I’ll help you all I can. So will your family. They already love her.”

  “I feel kind of like life as I know it has been ripped out from under me.”

  “It will definitely change,” Brit said. “There will be lots of adjustments, but you’ll make a wonderful father.”

  If he did, no one would be more surprised than him.

  But strangely, he wasn’t as upset as he’d expected to be. In fact, he had that same warmth creeping into his chest as he’d felt the first night he’d held Kimmie and she’d curled her tiny fingers around his.

  “Shall we go back to the house and share the news?” Brit asked.

  He managed a shaky smile. “I should have bought cigars.”

  * * *

  THE REST OF Saturday and into Sunday morning had passed in a blur and a frenzy of celebration. You’d have thought he’d just won a Nobel Peace Prize instead of finding out that he was a father.

  Cannon would be glad when the hoopla settled down. He had endless decisions to make about how to take care of an infant on the rodeo circuit. Maybe he should just kidnap R.J.’s grandmotherly-type neighbor Mattie Mae and take her with him.

  It was eleven o’clock on Sunday morning and he and Brit were stuck in slow-moving traffic on the outer limits of Houston. His old doubts were returning at the speed of the jerk on the motorbike who’d just passed them on the shoulder.

  “I’m not good with you staying in that town house alone.”

  “I live there, Cannon.”

  “Do you remember what it looked like the last time you were in it?”

  “I remember vividly. It doesn’t look that way now. I just talked to the cleaning service. The police tape is down and the place has been scrubbed so clean I’ll think it’s been renovated.”

  “I still don’t think you should be alone until...”

  “Until what? Every criminal in Houston is arrested and behind bars? That is never going to happen. If it did, I’d be out of a job.”

  “I could hire you as a nanny.”

  “I’d become a buckle bunny with a baby on my hip. That would be over-the-top disgusting.”

  “You could start a new trend.”

  She reached across the console and brushed her hand up and down his thigh.

  “Plying me with sexual favors will not assuage my worry.”

  “I know you’re afraid for me, Cannon. Police work and going after murderers is new for you. But it’s what I do. I’m a detective. I handle investigations. It’s not like I’m out chasing down killers every night.”

  “Clive Austin almost killed you.”

  “Clive Austin is dead and the woman who hired him is in jail and will be for a long, long, time.”

  She made sense. He knew that, but knowing and feeling were entirely different things.

  Brit was convinced that Melanie was the one who’d schemed to kill her and killed Sylvie and Clive Austin in the process. But what if she was wrong? What if all the supposition and circumstantial evidence had led them to the wrong conclusion? Or what if Melanie had managed to hire another killer even before she’d sliced Clive’s throat?

  And what if he was going overboard with this? It would be as bad as if Brit was making decisions about his life, telling him to give up bull riding and get an office job.

  The anxiety swelled again when he pulled onto her street and spotted a black sedan parked in Brit’s driveway.

  “Looks like you have company.”

  “Unexpected company,” Brit said. “I don’t recognize the vehicle.”

  Cannon parked his truck behind the car, blocking it in. He killed the engine and jumped out of the car to check things out. Brit, of course, was right behind him.

  He recognized the driver immediately, despite the fact that her eyes were swollen and red, her mascara smeared and running down one cheek like black tears.

  “Louise, what’s wrong?” Brit asked.

  “Aidan left me,” she muttered between near hysterical sobs. “After you left last night, he got drunk and started calling me names. He said it was my fault he’d lost his job. My fault our son was in prison. I couldn’t reason with him.”

  “I’m sure he’s sobered up by now,” Cannon offered. “He probably doesn’t even remember what he said.”

  “He may be sober, but he hasn’t been home since Friday night and he’s not answering his phone. For all I know he’s dead.” The hysterics started again. “You have to help me get him back, Brit. You have to tell him it’s not my fault. I can’t live without Aidan. He’s all I have.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Brit said. “I’ll make some hot tea. We’ll talk and figure out what to do.”

  Louise nodded, opened the door and practically fell out of the car. Cannon grabbed her arm for support.

  “I’ve got it from here, Cannon,” Brit assured him.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll call you later. Drive safely. I’ll see you soon.”

  There was nothing left for him to do but drive away.

  * * *

  BRIT WAS TERRIBLE with handling hysterical women. She and Louise hadn’t been close in years. Going to see Aidan Friday night may have been the biggest mistake in her life.

  She led Louise through the front door of her town house and into her cozy living room. “Take this chair,” Brit urged, tugging her to the most comfortable seat in the room. “Try to calm down. I’ll heat some water for tea.”

  Once the tea bags were steeping in the hot water, Brit walked to the bedroom door and peered inside. All traces of the brutal attack had been scrubbed away just as her cleaning lady had promised. Still, an icy tremble climbed Brit’s spine as thoughts of the horrid pictures filled her mind.

  When the tea was ready, Brit put it on a tray and started back to the living room. Thankfully, Louise’s body-racking sobs had grown silent. Perhaps now she’d listen to reason.

  Aidan might have gotten drunk after their emotional talk the other night. Heaven knows, she’d felt like doing that herself, and she never drank to the point of intoxication. But Aidan and Louise had been through hell and back together. Brit couldn’t believe he’d leave her now.

  He’d be back. In the meantime, hysterics weren’t going to help.

  “Tea’s ready,” she said as she rejoined Louise.

  “Thank you, bitch. Now sit it down and don’t make another move.”

  Brit stared in
to Louise’s cold, tearless eyes and at the pistol she held with both hands. Panic rose in her throat.

  She set the tray on an end table. “Put the gun down, Louise.” She struggled to keep her voice low and reassuring. “I don’t know what happened between you and Aidan, but it’s not my fault. Killing me won’t solve anything.”

  “It may not, but it will make me feel a whole lot better.”

  The hysterics had been an act. Louise had crossed the line between sanity and madness and somehow her anger had turned to Brit.

  “I’ve never done anything to you, Louise. You must know that. You were almost like a second mother to me when I was growing up. I would have never hurt you.”

  “You didn’t have to. Your father did enough for both of you. Pretending to be Aidan’s best friend all those years. Expecting Aidan to keep his dirty little secrets while he destroyed our lives. You are just like him. You’ve always been just like him. Even at your prom, you lied and told your father my son was on drugs.”

  “My father never...”

  Brit’s words died as the truth suddenly hit home. It wasn’t Melanie who had hired someone to kill her. It was Louise. The comment from Clive about her father made sense now.

  But Melanie had Clive’s phone number in her phone. Why? Unless ....

  “You and Melanie Crouch were partners, weren’t you? You pooled your money and hired Clive Austin to kill me.”

  “Dragging Melanie into this was all Clive’s idea. When I refused to pay him what he wanted, he tried to persuade Melanie to pay him for the same job—double dipping so to speak. She refused. In the end the bumbling thug agreed to kill you for what I’d offered to pay him.”

  “Only instead of paying him, you slashed his throat.”

  “He was trash. The world is better off without him. The same way it’s better off without your father.”

  The pieces were all falling into place. The nauseating truth swelled inside Brit’s chest until she could barely breathe. “You hired someone to kill my father, didn’t you? While Aidan was at the funeral crying with me, you must have been celebrating your success.”

  “Marcus deserved it. He destroyed my husband and my son. He tore our family apart. I swore to wipe out his family the way he did mine. That’s why you have to die, Brit. It’s why Sylvie had to die.”