Her Guardian Rancher

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Her Guardian Rancher Page 14

by Brenda Minton


  “I’ve got one. He’s about ten. Good as gold with kids. I bought him last year, but he doesn’t show well and the girls all have horses.”

  “Package deal?” Daron continued. “Oh, and a kitten.”

  “The kittens will be ready to go in the next couple of weeks. Pick one today and I’ll make sure it’s delivered.”

  “For Christmas?” Daron smiled down at Jake’s little girl. Melody, he thought her name was.

  “Yeah, for Christmas. You drive a hard bargain, McKay.”

  They left and Boone managed to stay silent until they were driving down the road.

  “That’s a mighty big diamond ring you just bought, partner,” Boone drawled with a chuckle as punctuation.

  Daron didn’t respond, and kept on driving. But it got him thinking. About rings. He guessed if this was a marathon, he was miles ahead of Emma in his thinking. He’d just bought her horses. She was still trying to push him away.

  He knew he needed to slow down. But he’d never been good at waiting. But he had a feeling if he didn’t pull back on the reins, she’d show him the exit real quick.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emma came home from work Saturday exhausted and ready for a nap. Lucy looked up as she entered the camper, their “safe house” as Boone liked to call it. Emma paused just inside the door and watched as Lucy helped Jamie hang a pretty star on a tiny Christmas tree.

  “Another tree?” Emma said.

  “Boone said we’d be here until after Christmas.” Lucy swept back her long, dark hair. It was an impatient gesture, but she managed a smile for Jamie. “His mom, Maria, brought down the tree. She said it’s not quite two weeks until Christmas, but Jamie definitely needs a tree.”

  “I’m sure you’d rather be somewhere else? With family?” Emma asked as she kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen and a glass of water.

  “No, not really. I only have my mom. She’s remarried and they usually visit my stepfather’s family in California.”

  “You’re not close, you and your mom?” Emma knew better than to dig into Lucy’s life. But occasionally she tried.

  “We were in the foxhole together for too many years to be close.”

  “Foxhole?”

  Lucy handed Jamie another ornament. “We survived too much together. Blame is a horrible thing. Maybe someday we’ll work through it.”

  “I see. Can I get you something? Coffee, water?”

  “No, thanks. I’m going to take a quick walk and get some fresh air. I’ll let you help with the tree. Oh, there are gifts to be wrapped.”

  “Gifts?” She sat down on the edge of the couch. “I haven’t been shopping yet.”

  “I told him no, but he never listens.” Lucy stretched. “Oh, and he said he’d take you all later for the daily visit to Art. He said Art is enjoying himself with the Jenkins family.”

  “It was good of Samantha and Remington to take him in. I bet he is having a good time with Remington’s grandfather.”

  “They’re kind of cut from the same cloth. I heard they’ve been terrorizing the neighbors, shooting bottle rockets at crows or some such. Nothing to hurt anyone, just acting like teenagers.”

  “I worry about Granddad, but he isn’t slowing down much.”

  “He’s a good grandfather,” Lucy agreed. “I’ll catch you in a few. Boone said to let you know he plans to take you all to the Christmas bazaar tonight.”

  “I wonder if it has ever occurred to him to ask, not tell?”

  Lucy was tugging on her running shoes. “No, I don’t think so. Some advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Stand your ground with him. I know from experience that when he starts getting this way, I play opposites with him. He says go, I stay. He says smile, I frown. It keeps him on his toes. He’s a pretty boy who is used to getting his way in all things.”

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

  Lucy bent to kiss the top of Jamie’s head, saluted to Emma and out the door she went. For a run, not a walk. Emma lowered herself to the floor next to Jamie.

  “It’s almost Christmas. What do you want? Other than elephants and kittens. Elephants are hard to come by this year.”

  Jamie giggled. “A giraffe.”

  “Did someone tell you to ask for a giraffe?” Emma asked.

  “Boone,” Jamie said. And she reached to hang a pretty globe on the tree. “Boone said tell Daron I want a giraffe.”

  “Boone is very bad.”

  “He should be in time-out?” Jamie asked, sitting back with her little legs stretched out in front of her. Her smile was everything good in Emma’s world.

  Emma pulled her close and kissed her cheeks until she giggled and said, “Stop, Mommy.”

  Then Jamie kissed Emma’s cheeks.

  “I love you, Jamie.”

  Jamie put a hand on each side of her face and leaned close. “I love you, Mommy. And so does Daron.”

  Emma closed her eyes and leaned in close to her daughter, smelling her sweet little-girl scent and promising herself she wouldn’t be broken again. She wouldn’t feel less than. She wouldn’t apologize for who she was. She wouldn’t let a man hurt her. Ever again.

  And she would teach her daughter to be strong and to believe in herself. Because little girls should feel cherished and grow up to be young women who valued themselves.

  Jamie leaned in and whispered, “Mama crying?”

  “No, I’m not.” She wasn’t. She had weathered the storms of her life and she’d come out stronger. “So, what about Christmas? Other than a giraffe?”

  “A baby that pees.”

  “Not a real one, I hope?” She heard the front door open. Emma looked over the top of Jamie’s head at Daron. He was watching them, a guarded expression on his face.

  Jamie laughed at his question. “Yes.”

  “No,” Emma said. “But I think we can do a doll. And what, might I ask, is in the bags in the bedroom?”

  Daron shrugged. “Stuff.”

  “We need to talk.”

  He sat down and waited. “About what?”

  “About little girls and how they feel when they really like someone but that person is only in their lives for a while.”

  “Who isn’t going to be around?” he asked.

  “Stop, Daron.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Emma,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “Actually I am going somewhere. I’m going to see Art and then I’m going to the Christmas bazaar. Teddy Dawson has his pony ride set up and I heard there’s some pretty amazing boiled shrimp.”

  “Ponies?” Jamie dropped an ornament in the box, the tree forgotten. She hurried to Daron, crawled up on his lap and gave him a hug.

  “You don’t play fair,” Emma accused.

  “Nope. I play for keeps,” he quipped. “How long will it take you all to get ready?”

  “Fifteen minutes.” She gave in too easily. Lucy would have given her a look for that. She hadn’t stood her ground. She hadn’t said no. She didn’t want to say no to Daron in their lives.

  When she thought long and hard about it, the only thing she wanted to say no to was him leaving them.

  * * *

  The town green surrounded the Martin’s Crossing Community Church. This was where they held the bazaar that brought locals and tourists alike to Martin’s Crossing. They came to listen to music, buy homemade crafts, toys and clothes, and eat the many different types of food that a festival such as this one always offered.

  “Shrimp?” Daron asked as they wandered through the crowds.

  “I have shellfish allergies,” Emma told him. “I want a corn dog.”

  “Corn dog?” He looked appalled. “When you could have anything else, you want a corn dog?”

&
nbsp; “Corn dogs are important festival food,” she informed him. “They aren’t amazing when they’re the frozen variety heated up in the oven. But at a festival when they’re hand-battered and deep-fried? Amazing.”

  “Better than a steak sandwich from the VFW guys over there?”

  She nodded and kept walking. “You’ve never tried one, have you?”

  “I’ve had corn dogs.”

  She arched a brow and waited for him to come clean.

  “Okay,” he admitted, “I’ve never had one at a fair. When we were kids, my mom wouldn’t allow us to eat carnival food.”

  “Seriously?” She had to laugh. “Why?”

  “They aren’t sanitary.”

  “The hot grease would kill any germs.”

  He moved next to her in line. “I’m taking your word for that.”

  “Good. Because I also want a fried Snickers.”

  He blanched. “Can a human body handle that much grease?”

  “Of course it can. And you’ll love it.”

  “If you say so.”

  She leaned against his shoulder. “You’ve lived a very sad, sheltered life.”

  They ate at a picnic table close to a blazing fire pit. The heat felt good. Although it wasn’t freezing cold, there was a definite chill in the air. Jamie managed to eat part of her corn dog, then had other things on her mind.

  “Can I ride the pony?” she asked Daron, tugging at his sleeve.

  “You bet. Why don’t I take you, since your mom is still eating? Emma, catch up with us in a minute?”

  She nodded and took another bite of fried candy bar.

  When she finished she tossed her trash and headed across the lawn to the pony ride. Jamie was on a pretty spotted pony with Daron walking next to her.

  Emma stood at the edge of the small fenced enclosure watching her daughter live out her dreams of being a cowgirl. Daron said something and Jamie smiled big. She hoped he wasn’t making promises.

  A hand clamped down on Emma’s arm. She pulled away but the grip tightened. She turned to face the man at her side. Pete. He looked worse. His face was sunken. His hair greasy.

  “Emma, you have to help me.”

  Those weren’t the words she expected. Her fear eased a little.

  “I can’t help you, Pete. You know that. I would like for you to get help, though.” She stepped back from him and he released her arm. His gaze shot past her, to someone she couldn’t see.

  “You can help me. I need money. Andy said he left you a life insurance policy.”

  “He didn’t.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth when he fled, running through the crowd, pushing people as he went. She turned, knowing Daron must be close. He made it to her side and scanned the crowds. But Pete was gone.

  “You okay?” Daron asked.

  “I’m fine. He believes I have a life insurance policy from Andy. That’s why he keeps coming back. He’s delusional.”

  “Meth does that. It makes people paranoid. It alters the brain’s cell structure.” He glanced back into the crowd and that was when she realized he didn’t have Jamie.

  “Where’s Jamie?” She panicked.

  “I saw Pete with you and I left Jamie with Oregon and Lily.”

  She released her breath and closed her eyes. “Don’t do that to me.”

  “I wanted her safe.”

  “I know.” She continued to breathe slow and steady, calming her racing heart. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand rested on her back and he guided her through the crowd. “Should we head back to the Wilders’?”

  She nodded. “I think so. We came, we ate, we rode ponies. That’s about all the excitement I can take for one night.”

  But she stopped in a clear area where, for one moment, it was peaceful. There were Christmas lights, a choir in the background singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and the nativity near the church. “I love it here. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. And even with Pete trying to steal my joy, there is peace.” She touched Daron’s arm. “Do you feel it?”

  He looked stunned, as if he doubted her sanity, but then he nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  He brushed his thumb against her lips. The gesture was sweet and it caused her to think of how it felt when he held her. When he kissed her.

  But she wasn’t going there. This thing between them had become tricky. It had opened doors that she’d closed, barred, locked and bolted shut.

  “We should go now,” she said. Because being with him like this now, this felt dangerous.

  * * *

  Daron sprawled on the sofa in the living room of the camper. Lucy was in the recliner. With Pete’s appearance in town last night, he’d decided they should both be on duty. And she’d gotten to the recliner first. That left him tossing and turning all night, and thankful when the sky finally lightened enough to call it morning.

  He pushed himself up from the lumpy piece of furniture and made his way to the kitchen and the coffeepot. Footsteps in the hall warned that he wasn’t the only one up. He brushed a hand through his hair and went back to making coffee. Emma appeared, looking sweet and sleepy. Her hair was loose, framing her face, making her eyes look large and luminous.

  “Do you mind going to church in Martin’s Crossing today?” he asked as he poured her a cup of coffee. Then he stuck a couple of slices of bread in the toaster.

  “I guess not. Why?” She took the coffee and sat down at the booth-style table.

  “I feel more comfortable there. I know the layout and the people.”

  “Because of Pete?”

  “Yeah, because of Pete.”

  “I don’t understand why he can’t be arrested.”

  “No evidence he’s committed a crime. He comes to your house asking for money. We could try for a restraining order.”

  “And what would that do?”

  “If he comes within several hundred feet of you, your daughter or your property, he can be arrested. But the problem is, if he’s determined, he’s going to ignore the order.”

  “Exactly. Do you think he would just go away? If I had money, which I don’t. Would he leave?”

  He joined her, sitting across from her at the tiny table. “I don’t think so. I think he’s like most junkies. He’ll go through the money and come back begging for more.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said softly, then lifted her cup to take a drink. “I really want to go home. Not that this camper isn’t lovely, but I miss my kitchen and my space. I miss my cattle.”

  “We can spend the day there. Maybe take some lunch out there. I had the windows fixed yesterday.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that. I can take care of these things, Daron. It’s my house, my family.”

  He raised his hands, stopping the argument. “I know it is. I know I have a tendency to go full throttle. I just want to make this easier for you.”

  “But you have to understand, we’re not your problem. And I can’t repay everything you’re doing for us.”

  He got up from the booth and walked over to the sink, rinsing his cup before facing her again. “I didn’t ask you to pay me back. I do know that you’re not my problem.” He paused, shaking his head. Lucy was in the recliner, probably feigning sleep. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m not doing this out of some sense of guilt.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he repeated. He looked at the clock on the microwave. “We should get ready for church.”

  “I’m not going to church,” Lucy snarled from the living room. “You know I draw the line at church.”

  “Yeah, Luce, I know.”

  Emma had slipped away. He heard the door down the hall close. He heard her talking in soft whispers to her daughter. Jamie giggled, the soun
d undeniably happy. He guessed the faith of a child was this: heart surgery in the future, not a lot of money, someone waiting to bring harm, and a three-year-old able to giggle.

  When they got to church the building was crowded. The pastor told them it was the pre-Christmas rush. Everyone wanted to get in good with the Lord before the big birthday party. Occasional Christians, the pastor called them. They showed up for the special occasions. Christmas. Easter. Daron guessed he kinda fit into that group. His family had been occasional Christians, too. They were good people, his parents. They had a strong marriage. They loved their kids. They just didn’t spend much time inside a church.

  Maybe they’d had faith, but he didn’t remember it getting passed on to him or his sister, Janette.

  He watched Emma as she hurried over to hug her grandfather. Daron followed the two of them to a pew they were sharing with Boone and Kayla. He slid in next to Boone. That left Kayla, Boone and Jamie between Emma and him.

  He didn’t much care for that.

  “Do you want to take Jamie to children’s church?” Kayla asked. “I think they’re having a puppet play today.”

  Emma looked down at her daughter. “Do you want to go?”

  Jamie nodded, so Emma lifted her and left, squeezing past him to get out. “Want me to go with you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. I’ll be right back.”

  Boone told her where she would find the children’s church. She hurried away, talking to Jamie as she went.

  Daron glanced at his watch. He would give her four minutes to get there and back.

  “She’s safe here,” Boone assured him.

  “I know she is.”

  He glanced at his watch again. Three minutes. He’d give her one more minute and then he was putting the building on lockdown.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You are going to have to give her to me, Emma.” The voice came from a doorway on the quiet hallway that obviously wasn’t the way to the children’s church.

  Emma had gotten confused, taken the wrong door. She’d known it and had started back. And then she’d heard the voice. Pete’s voice.

 

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