Son of a Gun Read online

  “She can ask anyone in the area where Bent Pine Ranch is. They’ll be able to give her directions. Or…” Carolina opened the top drawer of an antique chest and took out a box of stationery engraved with the Bent Pine brand and a small-scale map showing directions to the ranch from I-35 and I-45. The ranch fell about halfway between the two interstate highways. “The address is on this stationery, along with easy-to-follow directions.”

  Emma lay Belle in the cradle atop the clean, specially made sheet. Belle barely stirred. She looked like an angel in the pink footed onesie that Sylvia had sent over.

  Carolina touched the tiny hand and memories flooded her mind. The night she’d placed Damien in this same crib for the very first time—the night she and Hugh had married. She’d had tears that night. Her heart had been so full.

  Hugh had laughed at her, but he’d quickly become as attached to their miracle son as she was.

  Hugh. The only man she’d ever loved. She missed him so, but she treasured every second they’d had together. He’d been a hardheaded man, never comfortable showing his emotions—except with her. She’d been his one weak spot. He’d been her strength.

  “I should go and let you get some sleep,” Carolina said.

  “I am tired,” Emma admitted. “And that bed looks so tempting I can’t wait to crawl between the sheets. I know I’ve said it a half-dozen times tonight, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”

  Carolina’s hand closed around the doorknob, but she hesitated. “You know, Emma, I have this feeling that God sent you to us tonight—as much for us as for you. Sleep tight.”

  * * *

  EMMA DROPPED TO THE BED as the door closed behind Carolina. She’d never met a family like the Lamberts. That would make it doubly hard to leave in the morning. But with luck she’d be out of here before Damien decided to go look for her ditched car. The plan was already worked out in her mind.

  There was just one last detail to take care of. She picked up the phone and made a call that would put her plan in motion.

  Once she’d showered, she snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. She expected to see Caudillo’s image waiting for her in the dark with angry threats of what he’d do to her for escaping his paradise prison.

  But it was Damien’s face that appeared as she drifted into a sound, safe sleep.

  Chapter Four

  Caudillo paced the tiled floor of his office. “I leave for a few days, and you let marauders take everything, even my beloved Emma.”

  “What could we do? They came onto the island with hundreds of armed men.”

  “You could have fought to the death instead of hiding.”

  “We fought, but there were so many of them.”

  “You are the leader of a hundred men, Chale, armed with the best weapons money can buy. You should have been able to shoot them like ducks in a row as they stepped off their ship. You let down your guard while I was away. Admit it, Chale.”

  “I can only speak for myself. I was not on guard duty that night.”

  “But you are responsible for your men, and you were responsible for keeping my island safe.”

  Chale straightened the bandoleer that crossed over his shoulder, as if his supply of cartridges mattered now.

  “I assumed my orders were being obeyed.”

  “You assumed? I could train a monkey to assume and do nothing. And now not only are crates of weapons missing, but Emma is gone, as well.”

  “I will see that she is found, unless she is in the stomach of a shark.”

  “No, Chale. You will not. You have lost my trust. You are relieved of duty.”

  Sweat pooled on Chale’s forehead and circled the armpits of his white shirt. Another time, Caudillo would have enjoyed his sniveling fear. Today, there was too much at stake to enjoy anything.

  “Emma was not just another concubine, Chale. She is brilliant and deductive. She knows too much. Her freedom could bring the end of mine.”

  Not that Caudillo would let it go that far. But that didn’t excuse Chale’s negligence.

  Chale fell to his knees. “Please, Caudillo. Let me make this up to you. Let me find her. I know I can.”

  “Good night, Chale. I’m sorry our arrangement must end this way.”

  “May I leave the island?”

  “Of course. You are free to go.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Chale stood and walked toward the door. Caudillo waited until his hand was on the doorknob. Then he lifted his pistol and fired one shot into the back of Chale’s head.

  That done, he picked up his phone and made a call.

  “I told you to never call me at this number.”

  “We have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Emma Muran has escaped the island.”

  “How did you let that happen?”

  “I trusted the wrong person. That’s been taken care of.”

  “Do you have reason to believe she’s in the United States?”

  “If not, she will be soon. She’s a brilliant woman. She’d find a way to get home.”

  “I’ll do what I can, but the best option is for you to find her and take her back to the island before she goes to the American authorities.”

  “I don’t want her back. I want her dead. If I go down, so will you.”

  Caudillo broke the connection and beat a fist into the wall. Emma could have had it all. He’d gone after her for purely selfish reasons, but his heart had found in her everything it desired.

  She’d crushed it. Now she could crush him. He would not let that happen. He was Caudillo.

  * * *

  EMMA JERKED AWAKE TO AN anxiety attack that sent her pulse skyrocketing and her stomach churning. It took several agonizing seconds for her to realize where she was.

  Belle began to fuss, soft grunting sounds that had probably been the impetus that stirred Emma from sleep. She rolled over, kicked off the covers and threw her feet over the side of the cloud-soft mattress.

  “Are you hungry again?” she crooned to Belle. Or maybe she was sick. What if the formula had given her colic? And if it had, what was Emma supposed to do about that?

  Most women had at least nine months to get up to speed on their mothering skills. Emma had been granted seconds. One moment Belle’s mother had been alive, the next she was dead. But at least Belle had one real parent out there. The sooner Emma found Juan Perez, the better.

  She peered down at Belle. The squirming infant was working at getting both balled fists into her mouth.

  “I’m going to take that for hunger,” Emma crooned. “And we have formula for you right down the hallway.”

  Emma pulled on the buttery-soft sweats Carolina had lent her and then leaned over to pick up Belle. As she did, she remembered the horrid wig.

  It was still dark out, but that didn’t guarantee that someone else might not get out of bed and wander into the kitchen. No chance they wouldn’t notice that her hair had changed from long and black to chin length and blond.

  She plopped the wig onto her head, tucked loose blond hairs beneath it and then picked up Belle and started to the kitchen. The soft glow of night-lights scattered about the hallway lit her path.

  Emma tiptoed, hoping not to wake anyone else in the house, but the occasional groan of a floorboard seemed almost deafening in the silence. She was relieved to make it to the kitchen without Belle starting to wail.

  “Feeding time?”

  Emma spun around at the voice, stubbing the big toe on her right foot against a chair. She sucked in her breath at the quick flash of pain and did a fast and unbalanced two-step.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Damien said, his whispered voice still raspy from sleep.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up,” she said. “And I didn’t see you in the dark.”

  “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I got up for a glass of milk and ended up standing here watching it snow.”

  �
�It’s beautiful,” she said. “Like frosting for the earth.”

  Damien clicked on the low lights beneath the top cabinets. “Can I help you with something?”

  “You can hold Belle while I mix her formula.”

  “Are you sure you trust me with her? The babies I’m used to dealing with have four legs and weigh a lot more.”

  Having taken care of any kind of baby put him one up on Emma. “Sit down first,” she said, “and I’ll hand her to you.” She fit the baby into his arms. An unfamiliar sensation zinged through her senses. She did her best to ignore it, but it lingered even when she’d walked away from Damien.

  Once the bottle was ready, Emma took Belle from Damien and carried her to the rocker in the family room. The ashes in the fireplace still gave off a glow and a shimmer of heat. But even without that, the room was comfortable. And the light drifting from the kitchen gave off just enough illumination.

  Damien joined her in the family room a minute later. She upped her guard, determined not to let his virility and protectiveness ignite any repeat sensations or increase in pulse.

  Damien leaned against the hearth and looked down at her and Belle. “Did you call your husband and let him know you were safe?”

  “I’m a single mom.” She assumed he and his family had figured that out from the absence of a wedding ring and the fact that she hadn’t mentioned a spouse. Damien was likely just fishing for information now, though she wasn’t sure why he’d care.

  “What about Belle’s father?” he asked.

  “We never married. Let’s just say I have bad luck in choosing men.” That part was definitely true. “What about you?” she asked. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No. Guess you could say women have good luck in avoiding me.”

  She doubted that. Rich. Rugged good looks. Hard bodied. Intelligent. That was not the kind of man women avoided.

  “What about your father?” she asked. “No one’s mentioned him, but your mother wears a wedding band.”

  “Dad died three months ago. He was flying home from a Cowboys game with some friends, and their small plane went down in a storm.”

  “I’m so sorry for all of you. Poor Carolina. She must feel lost without him.”

  “She does, but she has incredible strength.”

  “I can tell, and an amazing spirit. I felt it the first time I saw her.”

  “Mother was delighted to have you and Belle here tonight.”

  “She took excellent care of us.”

  “Give her a cause or someone to help and she throws herself into the task.”

  “I have to admit that I’ve never met a family like yours, Damien. I’m a complete stranger, and yet you’ve all treated me like part of the family.”

  “Rescuing a woman in distress is the cowboy way. So why don’t you tell me what really happened to your arm, Emma.”

  Back to that. She should have known this was more than a casual conversation. “I have told you.”

  “Who attacked you?”

  She felt a traitorous urge to give him what he wanted, to just open her mouth and let the whole sordid tale spill out. But she didn’t dare. For his and his family’s safety as much as her own.

  “Does it really matter, Damien? I’m leaving in the morning and you’ll never see me or have to worry about me again.”

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “Are you suggesting I stay? Why?”

  “I think you’re in some kind of trouble and need help.”

  She had to admit that it would be heaven to have a man like him to protect her.

  Only he couldn’t. Even Damien Lambert was no match for Caudillo.

  “I appreciate the concern, but you’ve read things all wrong. I truly appreciate your help tonight, but there’s no point in my staying.”

  “If you change your mind, the offer still stands.” With that, he walked away.

  * * *

  EMMA WOKE AS THE FIRST rays of sun peeked over the horizon and sent brilliant spikes of light across the bed. She turned quickly to check the time, panicky that the alarm she’d set for seven-thirty had failed to go off.

  Twenty-eight past seven. All was well. She punched the button to cancel the alarm and then rolled out of bed quickly to check on Belle. The infant was sleeping peacefully.

  Perfect. That would give Emma time to get dressed before she had to give Belle her bottle. The car and driver she’d hired would be here at nine to pick up her and Belle and drive them into Dallas, unless the icy conditions closed the roads. In that case, the driver would be here as soon as he could make it.

  Emma hesitated just long enough to glance out the window. The garden area had been transformed to a winter wonderland. Her awe at the beauty shifted to apprehension. What if the driver couldn’t get here for hours? What if Damien insisted on taking one of his four-wheelers to check on her car?

  She couldn’t stay here once her lies were exposed. It was difficult enough merely facing Damien’s suspicions.

  Belle was rooting around in the cradle by the time Emma was dressed. Emma watched her, her heart aching for the mother Belle had lost. For a second she wondered what would happen if she couldn’t find Belle’s father. She definitely couldn’t desert the child.

  Except that Emma was running for her life, and if she failed to locate Juan Perez, she’d have no choice but to depend on social services to find Belle a loving home.

  Only that didn’t always happen. Emma knew that all too well.

  Emma picked up Belle and cuddled her against her chest as she kissed the top of the Belle’s sweet head. “I won’t abandon you, sweetheart. I’ll find your daddy. I don’t know how, but I will. I won’t give up until I do.”

  Belle stretched and started poking her fists into her mouth again.

  “Okay, so you’re worried about the more pressing needs of the moment—like food. I can handle that, too. Thanks to the Lamberts.”

  Enticing odors of coffee and bacon met Emma’s nostrils before she neared the kitchen. But it was the voices that captured her attention. She found herself listening for Damien’s. She didn’t hear him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

  She concentrated on what she had to say and forced a smile to her lips as she stepped into the kitchen.

  “There you two are,” Carolina greeted, “just in time for breakfast.”

  Emma scanned the room. Grandma Pearl and Sybil were both seated on one side of the long table, which was laden with eggs over-easy, steaming grits, crisp bacon, link sausage and a huge stack of pancakes.

  Carolina scooted between Pearl and Sybil and added a warmer of syrup and a plate of butter to the mix.

  “I seem to have an uncanny talent for appearing just in time to eat,” Emma said.

  “That doesn’t take a lot of talent around here,” Tague said. “We spend a lot of time at the table. How about coffee?”

  “Coffee sounds great.”

  Belle began to fuss.

  “We haven’t forgotten about you,” Emma said. “Your breakfast is coming up.”

  “I’ll mix her formula while you drink your coffee,” Carolina said.

  “You’ve probably done most of the cooking,” Emma protested. “You should eat while the food is hot.”

  “I cooked the eggs,” Grandma Pearl said. “Hugh always said I was the best egg cook west of the Mississippi.”

  “And Dad was right,” Tague said as he handed Emma her coffee.

  “There’s sugar and cream on the counter,” Sybil said.

  “Thanks, but I take it plain and black.”

  Both Damien and Durk were conspicuously missing from the family meal. Emma resisted asking about Damien, but she couldn’t keep from eyeing the door.

  “Damien and Durk took four-wheelers out to check on the livestock,” Carolina offered.

  “They just wanted to play in the snow,” Sybil said. “They better get back in here if they don’t want to miss breakfast.”

  Damien and Durk entered a f
ew minutes later as if on cue, their faces red from the wind and cold. Damien met her gaze and a fluttering sensation swept through her. If it was attraction, it couldn’t have picked a worse time to surface.

  “Food,” Durk said. “And I’m famished. Damien’s had me out working since sunup.”

  “I don’t want you to forget the joys of ranching.”

  “Riding those toys is not work,” Pearl said. “Back when your grandpa was ranching, he relied on horses instead of those noisy contraptions.”

  Damien touched his grandmother on the shoulder as he made his way to the table. “Bet you’ll change your mind about my new four-wheeler when I take you for a ride on it.”

  “Pshaw.” Pearl patted her puff of silvery-gray hair. “You won’t ever catch me on one of those senseless contrivances.”

  Carolina returned to the table with a filled baby bottle. She set the bottle down next to Emma and turned to Damien. “Would you say grace?”

  All heads bowed and the room fell silent except for Belle’s grunts and coos. Damien’s strong hand reached down and wrapped around Emma’s free one. A blush burned in her cheeks until she realized that everyone at the table had joined hands.

  Damien’s strong voice filled the room. Warmth suffused Emma, along with a sense of rightness with the world that she hadn’t felt in years.

  She knew she still had a long way to go before she’d feel safe or have any kind of peace. Caudillo had made certain of that. But hopefully this was the first step toward finding her way again.

  “May I feed Belle?” Carolina asked, after Damien’s amen. “I munched while I cooked, so I’m not really hungry.”

  “If you’d like to,” Emma said. It was the least she could do. Besides, she’d be on her own with Belle once the car arrived, and by night she’d likely be wishing for help with her.

  Emma waited until they were almost finished with the meal before making the announcement that she’d been reviewing in her mind.

  “I called my aunt. She insisted that my uncle drive out and pick me up this morning. I’m expecting him about nine unless the roads are impassable.”