by Tina Leonard
Gently, she snuggled Holly and Joey’s bear into the basket, then knelt in front of the fireplace to light the fire. Easing back to watch the wood slowly kindling to life, Jill reveled in the quiet beauty of the room and the sense of peace the decorated tree and sparkling lights brought her. Eunice had placed Santas with flat, weighted bottoms on the mantel so that their feet hung merrily above her head. The tiny tree on the table adorned by the skirt Joey had helped make brought a smile to her face. There were a lot of good things in this Christmas season, too, though Dustin had too many worries on his mind to appreciate them.
A sudden sound outside the big-paned window drew Jill’s startled gaze. When there was no other noise, she commanded herself to relax. “Just the wind in the pecan trees,” she told herself. Humming a Christmas tune to herself, she went to the window, forcing herself to look out and face her fear.
Down on the road passing in front of the ranch, she could just make out a police cruiser going by. Marsh had promised extra vigilance by his people, and obviously they intended to make sure the ranch was secure. Jill sighed with relief and went to move some of the ornaments on the tiny tree, giving herself time to calm down before she went back to the kitchen.
“Oh, a diaper change,” she told Holly. “We need a diaper after that nice nap and bottle you had. Why didn’t you say something?”
Picking the basket up, she walked into the hall. A quick glance into the kitchen showed her that Dustin and his son were putting away the dinner dishes for her. “Forks there, spoons there,” Dustin guided Joey as the silverware was placed into the dishwasher.
Jill hurried upstairs, wanting to get Holly changed and be back down before the kitchen was all cleaned up without her help. There was no point in Dustin thinking he had to coddle her just because they’d had a small difficulty between them this morning. He appeared eager to let matters smooth out between them; she wanted the same thing.
Deftly, she changed Holly and hurried back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the work was finished.
“You men work fast.”
Dustin threw a dishtowel over his shoulder. “It was only a couple of dishes. Not too hard for us.”
“Well, then. Let me get the popcorn popping and see how good you are at that.” She laid the baby’s basket on the table, noticing that Dustin didn’t seem to be in a big hurry to leave the kitchen. Joey flipped on the television and settled down in front of a Charlie Brown Christmas show.
Small snowflakes crackled as they hit the window. “Look, Joey,” she said, walking closer, “we’re going to have all kinds of snow tonight.”
“We…we can make snow angels to…tomorrow.”
He looked all ready for that. “Yes, we can,” she said with a smile.
A sudden red burst outside the window grabbed her attention. Her heart rate picked up as she peered hard through the darkness. There was little she could make out except that the red light was on top of a car parked at the end of the lane.
“Dustin,” she said quietly, “something other than the storm may have just become a problem.”
Chapter Fifteen
“What is it?” Dustin leaped to his feet, feeling his heart hammer against his chest as he looked out the window. The whirling red light drew a blazing warning signal in the frosty night. “I’ll go check it out.”
“Be careful.” Jill met Dustin’s gaze. A high-voltage current jumped between them, stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. She couldn’t bear to think of him getting hurt. Or worse.
“I’ll be fine.” He turned and went into the entry hall to shrug into his jacket. Her heart clenched when he picked up his shotgun. Pulling open the door, he disappeared into the frigid darkness. Cold draughts hit her in the face, making her gasp, so when his truck roared to life, she closed the door and hurried back into the kitchen.
“Joey, why don’t we go upstairs?” For some reason, she felt like she needed to be up there with Holly. With all of them forming a protective shield of sorts, they’d have the best chance of keeping her safe.
“Are we…we going to make popcorn?”
“Oh.” She was so rattled she’d forgotten. “That’s a great idea. We can carry it upstairs and let your grandmother help us string it if she wants to. It will be like a party.” She smiled reassuringly at the child. “As a matter of fact, let me go ask Eunice if she’d like a dinner tray.”
“Daddy going to…to come to the party?”
Joey’s hopeful eyes turned to her. Automatically, Jill glanced out the window. The flashing red light had been turned off. No movement of any kind cut through the darkness. Her heart beat a little more normally. “I’ll bet that just as soon as the popcorn is ready, your dad will be able to join our party.”
“Okay.”
“You wait here, Joey. I’ll be right back.” Jill smiled, hugging Joey before she took Holly and went up the stairs. As she pushed Eunice’s door open a crack Eunice snored lightly, her breathing deep and regular. Obviously she was worn out.
She walked downstairs, tucking the blanket closer around the baby. “Goodness, it’s gotten a little drafty down here,” she said. “But I’ll fix that in no time. And you’ll like hearing popcorn pop, Holly.” She stopped in the kitchen, glancing around for Joey.
“Joey?” She walked back into the hall to check the parlor. “Oh, no,” she breathed.
The front door was slightly ajar, about three inches, but that was enough to let her know where Joey had gone. She rushed outside to stand on the porch. “Joey!” she cried. “Honey, come to Jill! It’s too cold out here!”
No answer. Her heart pounded crazily in her chest. Joey had been determined for his dad to join their “party”. Dreadful intuition told her that the natural anxiety of a child had led him to seek out his father and make certain of his presence.
“Joey!” she called out again. There was no help for it. She stepped off the porch, the Moses basket clutched tightly in her hands. Moving quickly through the darkness, an awful feeling clawed at Jill’s stomach. Dustin was going to be furious with her for not keeping a closer watch on Joey. If anything happened to Dustin’s son, he would never forgive her.
“Joey!” she cried desperately. Suddenly, in a channel of bitter night air, she could hear sobbing. The lane seemed like it would never end before she made it to Joey. Draining relief almost knocked her to her knees when she saw the forlorn child standing in the middle of the driveway, tears gleaming on his face.
“Oh, honey.” She set Holly’s basket on the ground and hugged Joey tightly to her. “Why did you leave without telling me?”
“I want…want my Daddy. He…he said he help me.”
“Oh, Lord. Sweetheart, he’ll be back soon.” She said it confidently and hoped she was right. Joey was shivering with cold. Jill pressed him against her leg as she stood. Placing the basket over one arm, she kept Joey as close to her as possible to keep him warm and walked back to the house.
From his camouflaged hiding place among the pecan trees, Curtis Lynch watched the touching moment with a grin. People could be so stupid. Anybody could see this group was dumber than most. The woman wasn’t wearing a coat in the freezing weather and she’d brought the thing he wanted out into the cold with her. The cops were still busy with the speeder they’d stopped—now all that stood between him and success was one lone, coatless woman, hampered by an additional child.
He could snatch the baby and zoom away on his motorcycle before anyone ever heard her scream.
Striding from the darkness, his gaze never wavering from the woman with the basket, Curtis flexed his hands for the easiest theft luck could have provided him.
Jill heard the crackling of leaves, perceiving in that split second that she might be in danger. Gasping, she started to run, but a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her arm, yanking her to a stop. Reflexively an ear-piercing scream left her throat, but as she twisted to get away from her attacker, she turned and saw the terrible determination in his eyes.
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��Dustin!” she screamed. Struggling to keep the basket handle in her grasp, she and the man whose face she’d never been able to forget engaged in a tug of war. Joey was crying and beating the hood with his fists. Holly’s wail mixed in with Jill’s scream. “Marsh! Dustin!”
The man reached out, slapping her hard against the face. Jill reeled, but her hands stayed tight around the handle. The straw made tearing noises and for an awful moment, she feared it would simply pull apart, dumping Holly to the ground.
“Help!” she screamed, placing a decisive kick to the attacker’s leg. He cursed and slapped her again, harder. Jill’s ears rang and tears burst into her eyes. Automatically, she reached out and jabbed him in the eye.
Red fury exploded inside Curtis at the sudden pain in his eye. The bitch! He was going to kill her before he made his getaway. She was stronger than he’d counted on and putting up a helluva fight—she was going to get him caught if he didn’t put her down now.
Drawing back with his fist, he slammed it into her face, hard enough to take a man to the ground. She slipped on the slightly frozen gravel, going to her knees. The child was still beating on him with his fists, like irritating rainwater falling on his back. Curtis dealt him a small slap and watched the child fly like a rag in the opposite direction. Now, fortune was within his grasp. He’d be over the border before tomorrow’s light.
The woman had risen to her feet, blood running from her nose as she hurried to the little boy. The sudden sound of tires grinding and horn blaring told him it was time to retreat. Carrying the basket under an arm like a package, he hurried to his hiding place, vaulted his motorcycle and jammed it to life. The baby was thrashing, not liking being crunched up as he held the basket between his knees for balance. Tough. He didn’t have time to make the princess more comfortable.
Motorcycle roaring, he sped through the stand of pecan trees on a path that went at an angle to the main road.
Dustin’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of Joey lying on the ground. Jill bent over his son, but when she raised her head, he saw the cost of his family’s need to her.
“Oh, Jill.” He crouched to take his son in his arms, nearly crying at the helpless feeling of his own child weeping against him. Joey had needed him and he hadn’t been there for him. The look on Jill’s face was more than enough to tell him that Holly was gone.
Eunice met them at the door. “My heavens! Jill, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She nodded, reaching to take Joey from Dustin’s arms. Tears shone in her eyes. “We’ll be okay, now, Dustin. Please go get Holly back.”
Jill was right. There wasn’t time for him to stay and care for them the way he wanted. Even now, he could hear the burst of sirens wailing down the main road, alerted no doubt by his furious pounding on the truck’s horn. He’d certainly done his best to sound the alarm.
“I’ll get her,” he promised, determination filling him like red-hot lava inside a volcano. And when he found Curtis Lynch, the hood was going to have to smoke cigarettes through a gap in his teeth for the rest of his life. “Don’t worry,” he said to Jill, before turning to run to his truck.
At the bottom of the hill, any sign of police presence was long gone. From the distant sirens, he could tell Curtis had headed away from town. Traveling toward Oklahoma, no doubt. The baby-napper had made his exit from an obscure path in the pecan trees. Dustin knew a farm road where he could meet up with the motorcycle. Jill’s puffy face, swollen from what looked to have been a pretty mean punch, jumped into his memory, taunting him. She’d put up the struggle of a lifetime to have earned that blue-bruise mark of distinction. Oh, he was going to meet up with that motorcycle.
He promised himself that there would be hell to pay when he did.
Speeding his truck around the curve of the farm road, Dustin didn’t take his foot from the pedal when he saw the police blockade up ahead. He honked, cruising on through, knowing that Curtis would have been too smart to take the obvious path. Taking another turn in the road, he came out on a road used mainly by tractors and other slow-moving machinery. It was a dangerous road because it wasn’t well-paved, and the meandering curves met the busy main road all at once in a dizzying array of traffic.
Pushing the truck to its limit, yet watchful of any headlights he might see so he could slow down in time, Dustin knew he had to be close to Lynch. Still, the tightness inside him wouldn’t relax until he knew for certain that monster wasn’t going to elude him.
Suddenly, he realized there was another vehicle on the road ahead. It had pulled to the side, its oblong shape only a darker shadow in the night. He slowed, a strange sort of premonition in his mind.
It was Marsh. Dustin pulled alongside, backing his truck into place along the cruiser.
“What the hell took you so long?” Marsh demanded.
Dustin ignored him. “He hasn’t been by?”
“Nope. Turn your lights off. We don’t want him getting suspicious and turning back. Last radio transmission said he never made it to the police barricade.”
Dustin nodded. Of course Lynch was too smart for that. “Good.”
“Yep. Now we just wait and watch.”
“How are you planning on stopping him?”
“Nothing says I have to. I can tuck in for a nice long drive into Oklahoma if necessary. The gas is going to run out of his tank eventually.” He patted the seat beside him. “Got me some root beer in here for emergencies.”
“I’m going too.”
“Nah.” Marsh shook his head. “You don’t like root beer and you’d disturb my concentration. You can follow in your truck if you like, though. Better yet, why don’t you park it about twenty-five feet up the way, sort of angle it a bit so you can follow when we whiz past you?”
“Why don’t I put out some flares?” The idea hit Dustin out of nowhere. “You have any flares, Marsh? Maybe he doesn’t know this road as well as we do. Maybe he doesn’t realize it dead-ends if you don’t stay on the farm road.”
“Hey, you’re thinking like a cop now.” Marsh went to his trunk, opening it to retrieve some flares. He lifted his head. “But you better hurry. I think I hear something, and it doesn’t sound like a pedestrian.”
Dustin heard it too. Running up the road, he lit the flares and tossed them to the ground in a misleading direction. Then he waited off the shoulder, prepared to run out to reroute any unfortunate driver who might slow down for the signals.
But it was a motorcycle heading their way. The whining roar of the motor was unmistakable. “Come on, Lynch,” Dustin muttered to himself. “Have I got a surprise for you.”
As he’d expected, the rider slowed, then came to a complete halt. The road was difficult to see in the darkness, the curve making matters worse. Dustin could hear cursing, then a baby’s wail. White-hot anger ripped through him, nearly as blinding as the motorcycle’s headlight. From the other direction, he saw Marsh snaking forward. Curtis got off the bike, walking the road, obviously confused. Dustin stayed still, seeing Marsh halt in the shadows. A second later, he was creeping toward the bike.
Lynch whirled, aware he had company. He turned toward the motorcycle, but not before Dustin landed on him in a tackle.
“Shit!” the man lying underneath him screamed. Lynch bucked, freeing himself for a moment. The two of them rolled over and over on the hard-packed dirt, each vying for control. Though Dustin was taller, he immediately sensed his opponent was no wimp. Mean strength was an advantage as Lynch pummeled him with blows. Dustin knew those same fists had hit Jill and his son, and uncontrollable rage burst in his veins. Working himself into a sitting position above the hood, he sent a knock-out blow to his chin. Lynch was suddenly still beneath him.
Marsh walked forward with the basket. “Good work.”
“Yeah.” Dustin rubbed his sore chin. “Thanks for staying out of it.”
“You didn’t need my help.” Marsh laughed, the sound carrying in the sudden stillness. “He’s flatter than a rug.”
&nbs
p; Dustin stood, not proud at all of his handiwork. The baby’s wail was reassuring in a way, but it was also an upfront reminder that he had a family scared stiff and injured at home.
“I guess I should help you haul his ass to your cruiser,” he said reluctantly. “Get your cuffs. I need to get back.” He peeked into the basket, seeing tiny fists beat the air. “I don’t think she suffered any damage.”
“No. She’s just pissed to be out for a breezy night ride when she could be at the Reed Ranch basking in front of the fire,” Marsh said, laying the basket down and striding forward to handcuff Lynch.
The sight of Lynch rising to his knees caught Dustin off guard. Marsh cursed and moved swiftly, but not before the hood pulled a small gun from inside his jacket. Dustin launched himself forward to protect his friend, but his motions seemed delayed as a fire burst rent the stillness. Marsh hit the ground with a groan.
Roaring, Dustin threw himself on the punk. Marsh might be dead, all because of this creep. If he didn’t wrest the gun away, Dustin knew he was going to end up in the same condition as Marsh. Dead on the side of the road. The hood aimed a purposeful knee at his groin, but Dustin arched, taking it painfully on the thigh. Enraged, he delivered a crushing chop to Lynch’s temple.
“Don’t kill him,” Marsh’s voice came weakly.
“Why the hell not?” Dustin demanded. The man lay still underneath him and Dustin grabbed the gun away, checking for any other weapons. “It would be a pleasure.”
“I know.” Marsh struggled to sit up while Dustin handcuffed the hood’s hands behind his back, leaving him lying facedown on the frozen road. “He’s not worth it, Dustin, believe me.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Reluctantly, he moved away. Marsh was right. He wasn’t going to feel good about killing that son of a bitch when the raw anger finally dissipated later. “Are you going to bleed to death?” he asked Marsh, suddenly concerned by his friend’s lack of conversation. The sheriff was usually like a Hallmark card with a witty remark for every occasion. “Marsh?”