by Rita Herron
“That’s a pretty name.”
CeCe grinned. “My daddy picked it.”
“Is your daddy here?” Mitch asked.
CeCe pointed toward the sky and shook her head. “He wents to heaven. Mommy says I can talk to him any time I want, but I tried and he don’t talk back.”
Kaylie winced, hoping Mitch would drop the subject.
“I’m sure you miss him,” Mitch said. “But I bet he hears everything you say to him.”
“What do you want, Mitch?” Kaylie said, unnerved by the big man. She didn’t want to have to leave here tonight, but she would if necessary.
“You bought the place?”
Kaylie chewed the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t go so far with her fabricated story to declare that she’d bought the ranch. What if he wanted proof?
“No, we’re just staying here for a little while, maybe till the house sells,” Kaylie hedged. Unless Buckham found them first.
“Then you’re renting?” Mitch asked.
Kaylie shook her head, searching for a plausible explanation. “I’m a real estate agent. Properties show much better if someone’s living in them and if they’re cleaned up. I thought I’d stay here and spiff up the inside so it would sell after the holidays.” She had done that before. Not stayed in the house before, but dressed it up.
“I see.” The saddle squeaked in the tension that ensued as Mitch shifted on the horse. “Do you mind putting the gun down, ma’am? You’re making me and Horseshoe nervous.” He patted the horse’s long neck for emphasis.
Horseshoe? Surely a killer wouldn’t name his horse Horseshoe.
Still, she couldn’t trust anyone.
But she did lower the gun slightly, mostly for CeCe’s sake.
Kaylie guarded her words. “Do you know the owner of the ranch?”
The man gave her a long assessing look which made Kaylie want to squirm. But she resisted, determined not to draw attention to herself.
“We never met. But he called me and said he put his place on the market, and asked me to come by and do some painting for him, inside and out. Said he planned to be out of touch for a while, but he’d leave me a check at the bank.” He hooked his thumb toward the hill on the left. “Said I could stay out in the cabin on the creek.”
Kaylie turned in the direction Mitch pointed and spotted a small rustic cabin in the distance. She hadn’t realized it was there, but if he was staying in the cabin, he’d probably seen her arrive.
CeCe’s nails dug into her jean-clad leg. “Mommy? Can I pet the horsie?”
Kaylie heaved a weary breath, survival instincts urging her to run. But she’d promised CeCe they’d stay another night, and she couldn’t bear to break her heart.
But what if this man wasn’t who he said he was? What if he was working for Larry Buckham?
Or what if the owner called Mitch, and he found out she’d just told him a pack of lies?
MITCH LIFTED A HAND SLOWLY TO MAKE SURE HE DIDN’T startle the woman. Kat, that’s the name she gave, but he’d bet his badge that she was lying.
“I think Horseshoe would like to be petted,” he said gently.
The little nymph’s eyes lit up, blue eyes like her mother’s, he noted, her freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose. But instead of running over, she hesitated, and turned her face up to Kat. “Okay, Mommy?”
The tension lining his intruder’s face softened, making her look young and vulnerable, and so gorgeous that his chest clanged.
Then she ran a hand over her daughter’s hair with such love that he nearly choked. How many times had he scrubbed his hand over Todd’s unruly hair with affection?
Jesus Christ. If every movement the woman and kid made brought a lump to his throat, he had to get them off his property fast.
“Sure, sweetie, just be gentle.” Kat tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans, then took her daughter’s hand, and together they walked down the porch steps.
Mitch dismounted and patted Horseshoe’s flanks. “Hey buddy, there’s someone here that wants to meet you.”
CeCe fluttered her hand in a wave to the animal, a simple childlike gesture that touched Mitch again. He held the reigns, keeping the chestnut steady as the little girl stroked his side.
“You want me to lift you up so you can pet his neck?” Mitch asked.
She nodded enthusiastically, dimples flashing. His gaze met Kat’s, the wariness in her mother’s expression tearing at Mitch.
She was afraid for her daughter?
Why? Had someone hurt CeCe?
Kat’s husband? CeCe’s father? A boyfriend?
Anger surged through him, but he tamped it down as he lifted the child so she could reach Horseshoe’s mane.
She was nothing but a baby in his arms. The idea that someone had hurt her triggered his protective instincts.
“You know animals sense when people are nice and when they love them,” he said in a gruff voice. “They sense who they can trust.”
His gaze met Kat’s again, and a flicker of understanding appeared in the depths of her bottomless eyes. Eyes that had known fear.
The eyes of a mother who would do anything for her child.
Whatever she might have done at that moment, illegal or not, he didn’t care.
He would make sure they were safe from whatever they were running from.
KAYLIE WATCHED HER LITTLE GIRL PET THE HORSE UNDER THE supervision of the cowboy, her heart in her throat.
She’d always believed you could tell a lot about a person by the way they treated animals and children.
He was both commanding with the horse and gentle at the same time, using a low voice to introduce Horseshoe to CeCe. Where his sharp gaze had scrutinized her moments before, those same troubled, dark eyes softened when he looked at her daughter.
“I think he likes you,” Mitch said as the horse nuzzled CeCe’s palm with his nose.
CeCe giggled. “I like him, too.”
The sound of CeCe’s laugh made Kaylie ache all over. “He’s gentle,” she said as she glanced up at the cowboy. “Has he been around kids before?”
The softness in Mitch’s eyes vanished, a wall of steel sliding down over his chiseled jaw. He gave a brief nod, then lowered CeCe to the ground. “I guess I should get to work.”
CeCe shifted back and forth between her left and right foot. “Can I ride Horseshoe?”
Kaylie could have sworn anguish flashed across Mitch’s face. “Not right now, sweet pea.”
“Please, please, pretty please with sugar on it,” CeCe pleaded.
Kaylie squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. “Come on, honey. Mitch said he has work to do, and we’re keeping him.”
CeCe dug her sneaker into the dirt. “But I wants to ride like a real cowboy.”
Kaylie wanted to snap at CeCe for being petulant, but CeCe had been through so much the last few months that she bit back a chiding comment.
Mitch saved her by squatting down to CeCe’s eye level. “You be good and help your mommy, then we’ll see. Okay?”
CeCe’s face brightened. “’kay.”
Mitch looked up at Kaylie. “What do you plan to do inside the house?”
Kaylie shrugged. “First I’ll give it a thorough cleaning.”
“And we’re gonna get a Christmas tree and put up decorations,” CeCe chimed in.
“Did you plan to paint the inside?” Kaylie asked him.
Mitch swung his big body back up in the saddle. “Do you think it will help sell the place?”
Kaylie nodded. “Yes. I’d use a neutral shade through the house. It’ll make it look fresher and make the rooms feel larger.”
Mitch tipped his hat. “Then pick out a paint color, and I’ll get started after I repair the fencing around the property.”
Kaylie pulled CeCe back against her and stroked her arms. She should have told him no about the painting, but her professional experience wouldn’t allow her to lie. Of course giving the rooms a facelift would make the farmh
ouse show better.
But could she handle this sexy man inside the house with her and her daughter?
And what if he wasn’t who he said he was? Would she and CeCe be safe with him?
“DO YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE?”
Buckham gripped the phone with a clammy hand. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. He should never have gotten caught. The woman never should have identified him.
And the jury shouldn’t have believed her since she’d never seen his face. She’d only heard his voice.
But the bitch had been so convincing with her tears and drama and her story about saving her little girl that those damn twelve strangers had sunk his ass with a guilty verdict. Worse, they thought he was that fucking, sick jerk who was going around killing families.
He almost laughed at the irony. Him a serial killer?
Hardly.
“I asked you if you know where they are.”
“I’m close.” He could smell it. After all, the woman was an amateur.
And his lawyer had friends in high places.
Soon he would get his revenge.
CHAPTER SIX
THE NEXT FEW DAYS KAYLIE SPENT THE MORNINGS CLEANING the house. CeCe followed her from room to room, chatting about the horses outside and singing Christmas carols while Kaylie dusted, scrubbed, pulled down curtains and washed them. She stripped the throws off the furniture, polished the antiques and mopped the floors, shining them with wood floor cleaner.
CeCe played in her room and had invented an imaginary friend, a little boy who liked to play hide and seek and loved horses as much as she did. Kaylie was worried about her, but finally decided that CeCe was simply lonely. When this ordeal ended, she’d enroll CeCe in a kindergarten so she could make some real friends.
Kaylie washed all the bedding in the house, cleaned the braided rugs and scrubbed the bathrooms until the porcelain shown. In the attic, she found a trunk filled with linens for the mahogany dining table and washed them, then set the table using the Battenberg lace and a set of rose china tucked away in an old chest.
She was ecstatic to find that the sewing machine in the attic worked, so she quilted placemats from scraps of red and green fabric. CeCe needed a project, so they made a Christmas tree for the table using Styrofoam balls they found in the attic, decorating the balls with paint, glitter, buttons and rickrack.
Although they worked in the mornings, they took the afternoons to play. A picnic by the creek led to wading. Even though the water was chilly, CeCe splashed and jumped up and down with excitement.
They collected small stones that had turned smooth from the water and painted them red and green, then crafted a wreath for the front door, adding fresh greenery from the farm and a holly bush growing beside the house.
Mitch had repaired and painted the front porch, so they decorated it with more fresh holly leaves and berries. The craft store had a sale on Christmas cards and wooden ornaments that CeCe could paint herself and decorate with glitter, and they spent hours making those. Kaylie showed CeCe how to cut out the pictures on the holiday cards, then they strung them with red ribbon.
It was the nicest few days Kaylie had had since her husband’s death because CeCe was smiling and happy again.
Not that there weren’t tense moments. Moments where she felt as if someone was watching them. Days where she sensed that their reprieve might be running out.
Days where she and Mitch crossed paths, and the tension between them mounted. He started painting in the upstairs, so she and CeCe had shared a bed, alternating rooms while the other room dried. The den took another day, but the kitchen, with its nooks and crannies, took the longest.
He had kept his distance since that first meeting, had steered clear of her and CeCe to the point where she felt as if he was avoiding them.
That distance relieved her, but at the same time, she found herself yearning to have a conversation with him again. To see the tenderness in his expression when he looked at her daughter.
But when he rode up on Horseshoe, and saw the porch and front door decorated, his expression turned dark as if he disapproved of the festive decorations.
CeCe bounced up from the porch and waved to him. “Hey, Mr. Mitch. See the bows Mommy and I made.”
Mitch glanced at CeCe’s hand where she held a string of red bows, his jaw tight. “You weren’t kidding about decorating?”
“We gots to so Santa’ll know where to find me,” CeCe said innocently.
Mitch’s fingers tightened around the reins. “You don’t plan on going to your own house for Christmas, Kat?”
Kaylie gritted her teeth, a lie forming on her lips. “We sold our house after my husband passed. CeCe and I are traveling for a while until we decide where we want to settle.” One thing she’d learned while hiding was to keep as close to the truth as possible.
Get too detailed with the lies, and it was easy to get tangled up in them.
“Have you decided?” he asked gruffly.
Kaylie glanced across the ranch, the memories she’d made her with her daughter tearing at her. She wished she could buy this place for her and CeCe and stay here forever.
But wishing did no good when they might have to pick up and run any second.
MITCH COULDN’T MISS THE LONGING ON KAT’S FACE AS SHE gazed across his ranch. He dismounted, moved by the fact that she appreciated the land. Sally had never looked at the farmhouse or ranch the way Kat and her daughter did.
Sally had hated the isolation, the smell of the barn, the rundown property and furniture she considered country and outdated. She’d wanted a condo in Austin with chrome and glass, and nights at museums with fancy dinners and expensive champagne.
There was no way in hell she would have made placemats from scraps or a Styrofoam tree for the table, or polished and cleaned every inch of the house herself.
She’d hated the antiques that had belonged to his grandmother and suggested they throw everything out, including the sewing machine Kat had been so excited to find.
Kat reminded him of his grandmother who’d doted on kids, liked baking and gardening, and loved working alongside his grandfather on the ranch.
But seeing Kat and CeCe inside the house also made him feel guilty. His son should be sleeping in the bedroom, wading in the creek and riding Horseshoe.
He still hadn’t given CeCe a ride, but she asked him every day.
Emotions welled in his throat, and he swallowed hard. He’d played along with Kat’s lies for the past few days, but he didn’t think he could stand to have her and her daughter in the house on Christmas Day.
Not when Todd should be here hanging his stocking and waking up to Santa.
“I’ll work on the downstairs bathroom in the morning,” he said, then turned to CeCe. The persistent little kid wasn’t going to give up until he gave her that riding lesson. Might as well get it over with. “How about I let you ride Horseshoe tomorrow after lunch?”
“Really?” CeCe held her breath, melting Mitch’s heart.
“Really.”
“Yippee!” CeCe raced down the porch steps and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his legs.
Pain ricocheted through Mitch’s heart so deeply that his legs felt weak. But he managed an awkward pat on her back.
When he looked up at Kat, he thought he saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Compassion for her mushroomed inside him.
She and the kid had lost the man they loved. If he understood one thing, it was grief.
But if they were simply moving around in search of a new home, why the fake ID in her bag?
Mitch forced a smile. “That is, if your mother says it’s okay,” he told CeCe.
CeCe tugged at Kat’s arm. “It’s okay, right, Mommy? Please, please say it’s okay.”
Kat licked her lips, the sun glinting off her golden blonde hair. Mitch couldn’t help but be drawn to her sea blue eyes, eyes that looked torn over what to say as if it had been a long time since she’d had a break and someone ha
d been nice to her.
But that flicker of wariness darkened the mood.
“We’ll do it here in the horse pen so you can watch her every minute,” Mitch said, sensing he needed to reassure her he had no ill intentions.
Kat gave a small nod, then squeezed CeCe’s shoulder. “Yes, honey, that’s fine.”
“Once you get the hang of handling Horseshoe, maybe we can all take a ride across the ranch,” Mitch said. “There’s a pond on the west side.”
CeCe reached up to pet Horseshoe’s head. “Did you hear that, buddy? I get to ride you tomorrow, and Mr. Mitch is gonna show us the pond!”
Kat looked hesitant again, her expression wary. “Thanks for the offer,” she said. “We’ll see. I still have a lot to do here.”
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “What else? You’ve cleaned everything. The house looks like it’s ready to show.”
“I thought I’d make some curtains for the room where CeCe’s sleeping.”
Mitch tensed. He’d stripped the comforter and curtains Sally had put up because Todd had never liked them. He and Sally had argued about his room more than once. Todd wanted a horse theme but Sally had denied him.
Could he allow this stranger in his house to decorate his son’s room the way she wanted?
He rubbed his hand over his pocket where he’d put the fingerprint sample he’d taken from the coffee mug Kat had been drinking from that morning. He had to know who she was before things went any further.
He forced himself to back away. He’d take the print to the lab and find out the truth.
Already the little girl was hacking at his shattered heart. And her mother’s vulnerable expression roused protective instincts he had no business feeling for a woman who was lying to him.
For a woman who might be a criminal.
KAYLIE WATCHED MITCH RIDE AWAY, WILLING HER HEART TO stop fluttering. What was wrong with her?
She had loved her husband dearly. He was the only man she’d ever been with.