Finally, after several long minutes of soothing talk and careful movements, Caleb was close enough to place a hand on the animal’s rump. It shied away, but then steadied and Caleb was finally able to sidle to the front of the trailer, where he stood with his head against the gelding’s neck, continuing to talk. Then, gently easing the horse back, step by step, it was down the ramp and in the corral.
Laney swung the gate shut and snapped the latch into place. The beautiful black gelding whinnied, reared and then trotted around the corral and out into the pasture. He kept going, as far and as fast as he could, mane flying, muscles rippling, until he reached the fence on the far side. He turned and ran along the fence, back and forth, for several minutes.
Laney signaled at Sam, who ran over, Bertie at his heels. Caleb lifted him onto the top rail of the fence and held him in place while the four of them watched the horse run, trying to find a way to freedom.
“I think he’ll settle down in a while,” Don said as he turned to go. “In spite of his scars, his wounds aren’t physical. He’s suffered mental trauma. He’ll be here for a while, Caleb. He’s not like the others, who can be put up for adoption after just a few weeks.”
Caleb nodded. “I knew that as soon as I saw him. I’ll see what I can do with him.”
“Good luck.” With a wave, Don closed the back of the horse trailer, climbed into his truck and drove away.
Caleb, Laney and Sam stood watching the restless gelding dance nervously around the pasture, staying as far away from the people as he could.
“What’s his name, Mr. Ransom?” Sam wanted to know.
Caleb shrugged. “I don’t think he’s got a name. You want to give him one? Like you did with, um, Awesome?”
“Yeah! ‘Buddy,’ like you call me sometimes.”
Laney chuckled, loving the way Caleb blinked in surprise. He glanced at the skittish animal, then back at her son. “Okay, Sam. I’m not sure that name fits him, not the way it does you, but if you want, we can call him Buddy.”
“The pony needs a name, too,” Sam informed them.
“You already gave her a name, Sam,” Caleb responded. “You called her Awesome, remember? You think she needs another name?”
“People have two names,” Sam pointed out. “I got two names, Sam and Reynolds.” He looked at Caleb curiously. “You got two names, Mr. and Ransom.”
Caleb chuckled and reminded Sam that his first name was Caleb.
Sam held out both hands. “Well, see? Awesome needs two names, too.”
“All right, then. What’s her other name?”
Sam screwed up his face. After several seconds he said, “Miss. I want to name her Miss Awesome, ’cause she’s so...”
“Awesome,” Caleb supplied. “Yeah, I get it. Why don’t you go tell her what her new name is?” he suggested. “But don’t go inside her corral.” Addie and her filly’s corral was adjacent to this one, and Laney could see the mare and filly watching the proceedings with the new gelding.
“Okay, boss!” Sam bounced away, but remembered to slow down and approach slowly. The filly trotted over to greet the little boy and Sam eagerly presented her with her new name.
Laney looked at Caleb. “Miss Awesome?” she said, and the two of them laughed.
After a moment Sam rushed back to tell them that Miss Awesome liked her new name. Then he climbed back onto the fence rail and Caleb put an arm around him to hold him in place.
Laney’s phone rang and she saw that it was her fire-team captain.
“We’re being called out to Texas,” Kebra said when she answered. “Can you meet us in Tucson?”
Automatically, Laney’s gaze flew up to meet Caleb’s. “Sure, Kebra... Oh, wait, no, I can’t. There’s no one to watch Sam. My brother’s on vacation and my mom and dad are out of town for a day or two.”
His eyes never leaving Laney’s, Caleb lifted Sam down from the fence rail. “Sam, take Bertie back to the house so, uh, Buddy doesn’t scare him.”
“Okay.” Her son trundled off with the dog.
“Laney, I’ll keep Sam.” Caleb met her eyes in a steady gaze.
“I’ll call you right back, Kebra,” she said into the phone. “What did you say, Caleb?”
“Sam can stay with me until you get back, or until your mom and dad come and get him.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I offered.” He waited for her response.
A flurry of thoughts whirled through her mind. Sam would be safe, no doubt about that, and he would love staying with Caleb. And time away from Caleb and Sam would give her a chance to process what she now knew: that she was in love with Caleb, to hug it to herself and sort it out. She wasn’t sure she could think about it objectively if he was caring for her son.
As well, she had a job to do and her team was counting on her. “Thanks, Caleb. I appreciate it. I’ll call my mom and dad to ask them to pick him up when they get home.”
“No hurry.”
She called Kebra back to confirm the time to meet at the airport and then hurried to tell Sam what was happening.
“I get to stay with Bertie and Mr. Ransom?” he asked, his eyes shining as if he’d been given a magical gift.
She crouched in front of him so they could talk eye to eye. “I expect you to do what Mr. Ransom asks you to do.”
He wrinkled his nose. “What’s ’spect mean?”
“It means you’re going to do it.” Her firm tone left no room for question, so he nodded vigorously.
She gave him a hug and a kiss. “I’ll go home and get your overnight bag. Is there anything special you’d like me to bring? Books? Games?”
Laney slid a sideways glance at Caleb, who stood nearby, watching in that thoughtful, self-contained way of his. She didn’t let Sam play video games yet and she wasn’t sure how Caleb would feel about playing kids’ board games with her son.
Sam told her what he wanted and she turned toward her Jeep, then paused and looked at Caleb. “What about a bed for him? I have a cot I can bring over, and as far as food, he’ll eat most things except salads and...”
“I can handle it, Laney. I’ve still got a freezer full of the food Karen Bartlett brought over, and I can make him a bed on the sofa, or move the sofa cushions into my room. He’d probably rather sleep on cushions on the floor with Bertie beside him, anyway. I’ve taken care of kids before. I’ve got a bunch of younger cousins.”
She blinked. This was the first time he’d mentioned anything about his family since his mother had visited. There was a great deal more she wanted to know, but it would have to wait.
“Okay. Thanks.” She jumped into the Jeep and hurried home. Quickly, she threw everything together and called her parents to tell them what was going on. Vivian fretted about her banana tree, but said she’d call a neighbor to look in on it. Smiling at the new love in her mom’s life, Laney finished collecting her and Sam’s gear and rushed back to Caleb’s.
The entire time she was getting ready, dropping off Sam’s things, reminding him to brush his teeth and obey Caleb, she felt an undercurrent of electricity humming through her. It was partly due to the adrenaline rush she always experienced before going to a fire, but also because she’d discovered she was in love with Caleb.
Tears threatened when she leaned over to kiss her son goodbye. He wriggled away and said, “’Bye, Mom. Are you gonna kiss Mr. Ransom goodbye, too?”
Her gaze shot up to meet Caleb’s. The unscarred corner of his mouth kicked up. “Yeah, are you gonna kiss me goodbye?”
She and Sam had been standing on the porch and Caleb was at the bottom of the steps. Laney raised her chin and gave an exaggerated sigh as she said, “If I must.”
Caleb’s grin widened and one eyebrow shot up as she sauntered down the steps. When she reached him, s
he made a show of giving a chaste kiss, putting her hands behind her back and leaning forward to peck his cheek.
He was having none of that. His hands came around to grasp her wrists and haul her arms up to encircle his neck. Tilting his head, he spoke to her son. “Sam, is it okay if I give your mom a really big kiss?”
“Yup,” the little boy answered on a giggle.
Caleb gave her a wicked grin that made her heart stutter then pound. He pulled her close and fit his mouth over hers.
He tasted sweet, warm, delicious. She would never get tired of this. She pressed herself even closer and wound her fingers up into his hair, knocking his hat to the ground. Completely lost in feeling, she had no sense of space and time.
She was barely aware of Sam bouncing down the steps to pick up Caleb’s hat. He tapped it against their legs and said, “Mr. Ransom, you dropped your hat.” When he didn’t get a response, he tapped harder. “No more kissing.”
Finally, when she hadn’t a bit of breath left in her, Caleb pulled his mouth away from hers and buried his face in her neck. “Be safe, Laney. Come home to us.”
Tears spurted into her eyes. Unable to speak, she nodded, kissed the side of his neck and stepped away as she dragged air into her lungs.
“I’ll...” Her throat closed up. She cleared it and tried again. “I’ll call you.” She wiped tears out of her eyes, gave Sam another hug and kiss, then whirled and hurried to her car.
As she pulled away, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that Caleb had picked Sam up. Her son’s arm was hooked around Caleb’s neck and the two of them were waving. She stuck her hand out the window and waved until she made the turn at the end of the drive and headed toward Tucson.
* * *
CALEB HATED TO see her go. He hated knowing she was going to be in danger. He had the same knot in his gut he’d had every time he and his men had gone out on a mission; the same prickle of nerves along his neck and down his back as if he could feel the crosshairs of an enemy rifle locked onto him.
The feeling, once so familiar to him, sent alarm clanging through his head. He knew it signaled danger and he had to resist the urge to look around to check the position of his men. A phantom squad, he’d heard an old soldier say once. Even though his men were long gone to other units or bases, or had left the army, in his mind, they were always together and he always had to look out for them.
He took a breath, then another, steadying himself. He’d been home for a year and a half—closer to two years now. His reactions and his fight-or-flight response had settled down. It should surprise him that it was happening again, but he knew what was going on. His protective instincts were kicking in.
He wasn’t even going to speculate on why he felt the need to protect Delaney Reynolds, when only a few weeks ago his goal in life was to keep her—and everyone else—out. But, inch by inch, Laney and Sam had worked their way into his life and now he couldn’t even imagine being without them. When he thought about how he’d lived before they’d come along, all he could recall was a big echo of loneliness. Crazy that he’d thought it was what he wanted.
What had really shocked him was his reaction when she’d told him about her marriage; about the college professor who’d obviously seduced and tricked her into marriage and motherhood, and then had dumped her. Caleb had seriously considered finding the son of a bitch and beating the crap out of him. It would have been a real pleasure, but he wasn’t sure Laney would have appreciated the gesture.
He hated that he couldn’t protect Laney now in her dangerous job, couldn’t even be there to know exactly what was going on, but he wasn’t in charge. And as she’d pointed out, no one was shooting at her. As much as it galled him, he had to stay behind, mind his own business, look after her son.
Glancing around, he saw that Sam had climbed the porch and was perched on the top step. He was leaning over Bertie, petting him and whispering in his ear. He was probably telling Bertie how much he was going to miss his mom. Caleb knew he was going to have to do something to distract the kid.
“Hey, Sam, how would you like to learn how to rope?”
When the little boy’s head bounced up and a wide grin split his face, Caleb knew he’d hit on the right diversion. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go see what we can find in the barn.”
* * *
MONETTE LUGGED THE box up the last few stairs then scurried along the landing and into her apartment. She swung the door shut behind her and checked to make sure the drapes were tightly shut. No one was allowed to take files out of the office without permission, but she knew she could get them back where they belonged before Susan, or anyone else, noticed.
That was one thing she’d learned from her mother; how to be sneaky.
Although Monette had made a point of living her life in an exemplary way—unlike every other member of her family—she now realized that her whole campaign to save little Sean from his mother’s neglect would be jeopardized if she didn’t make her case airtight. And she had to do it before Susan made her take a vacation.
Picking up the box, she turned toward the sofa, intending to spread her work out on the coffee table, but she paused, staring. The table was piled high with newspapers and magazines. How had those gotten back there? She’d put them in the recycling bin downstairs. Hadn’t she?
Frowning, she took the box into the kitchen instead and put it on her small dinette table, shoving aside dirty dishes to make it fit. She stacked the dishes and carried them to the overflowing sink, then stood staring down at the mess. She needed to clean this up, but not right now. She had more important work to do.
“Everything has to be in perfect order,” she murmured as she opened the file box and began pulling out papers, which she placed in stacks. She’d been watching Laney Reynolds for years, since before her son could walk, so she had a great deal of documentation.
“Little Sean won’t be in danger ever again,” Monette said to herself with satisfaction. “And when he’s grown up, he’ll find me and thank me for saving his life.”
Not like the other time, the other Sean. Monette’s hands fell into her lap and she sat staring blankly at the work in front of her. She lost the battle to keep the memories at bay. Her mother’s voice rang in her ears...
* * *
“YOU’D BETTER WATCH HIM, little missy. If something happens to him it’ll be your fault. I gotta work and I can’t afford no babysitter.” Bambi Berkley added another layer of red to her lips, adjusted the too-tight skirt of her waitress uniform and glared at her daughter.
Monette put her hand back to make sure four-year-old Sean was securely behind her and lifted her chin defiantly. “Well, if you’re gonna work, maybe you better bring home some food instead of spending all your money on booze. Oatmeal’s all we’ve had to eat for two days.”
“Don’t you back-sass me!” Bambi raised a hand as if to strike, but Monette grabbed Sean and scuttled out of the reach of that palm she’d felt far too many times. Bambi started after them, but Monette shoved Sean, who was now whimpering, behind a chair and stood in front of it.
“You’re not gonna hit him or me. You gotta get to work or you’ll get fired. Again.”
Bambi stopped, stared at her daughter. Her lips curled. “You’re nothin’ but a goody-goody know-it-all, but you don’t know nothin’. I’ll deal with you later.” She grabbed her purse and keys and headed out to the beat-up old Ford sedan that sometimes got her to work.
“Fine,” Monette shot back. “But bring home some food.”
Monette was relieved when the car started and Bambi pulled away from the remote shack they’d called home for two weeks now. Clouds of dust followed the car as it shuddered over the rutted track leading to the highway into town.
She hated this place. But it was all they could afford and there was a corral by the house where Bambi’s new boyfriend, Sta
nley, could keep his horse—as soon as he bought one. It was too far from town, no close neighbors to ask for help, to beg for milk for Sean, to let the county know that Bambi neglected her children.
There was nothing but desert and a few cows and horses in the fenced area nearby. She didn’t know if the fence was secure, had never been around animals like them before, but she knew she had to protect Sean from them. She was his security, and he was hers. She didn’t know what she was going to do when summer was over and she had to go back to school. Bambi would have to get a babysitter for him then. It would be easier when he was old enough to start kindergarten. There would be other people to help Monette look after him—and he’d get at least two meals a day at school.
Sean came out from behind the chair and slipped his hand into hers. Monette smiled at him. “Looks like it’s oatmeal again, baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” he insisted. “I’m a big boy.” But when he poked his thumb into his mouth, Monette laughed and hugged him.
“Okay, big boy. It’s time for oat—”
* * *
A DOOR SLAMMED nearby and, with a start, Monette came out of the memory to discover tears rolling down her cheeks. Getting up, she grabbed a paper towel, wiped her face and blew her nose. She couldn’t let this happen, she thought fiercely. Couldn’t let the memories come out of the corner where she kept them safely locked away or she’d never be able to work, never be able to save the little Reynolds boy. She’d never be able to rescue Sean.
She sat forward and picked up the completed form on the top of the nearest stack of papers. His name wasn’t Sean. It was Samuel. Sam. She had to remember that.
Putting the paper down again, she looked around her apartment. With an effort, she wrenched her thoughts away from the Reynolds boy and studied her surroundings. The place was a mess and she didn’t know how or when it got that way.
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