He stepped out of the shadows. “I’ve been waiting, hoping to catch you alone today.”
“Pete, don’t do this.” Emma backed away. She held her daughter against her and tried to calm her as Jamie started to sob. “She’s frightened. You’re her uncle. Why don’t you say hello to her, Pete? She has Andy’s eyes. Blue, just like his.”
Pete glanced but then looked away. She saw remorse. She knew she could get to him if she kept talking, connecting him with his niece.
“She’s going to be in the hospital in a couple of weeks. You should come visit her. I called your parents. They might come see her.”
“I don’t think they will,” he mumbled. “You’re nice, Emma. You just weren’t good enough. They wanted Andy to marry someone who fit into his world, not the poor farmer’s daughter from Braswell.”
“That’s mean, Pete.” She kissed Jamie’s brow and rubbed her back as she held her close. “Jamie is three now. Did you know that? She wants kittens and an elephant for Christmas.”
He almost smiled. “Emma, stop. Please stop. You don’t understand how much trouble I’m in. I won’t hurt her. I’ll just spend time with her until that boyfriend of yours can get money from his family. They have plenty. I get that Andy left you high and dry, but it looks like you’ve bounced back just fine.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, Pete. He’s just a friend. You know that. He and Andy were friends, so he’s checked on us and helped us out.”
“I’m not stupid, Emma.” He tilted his head, chin up. He was tweaking. Great.
“I know you’re not. I’m just telling you that you’re wrong.”
She had to keep him talking. She knew Daron would notice how long she was gone. He’d come looking for her. Pete noticed her shift to look at the door at the end of the hall.
Before she could stop him, he grabbed Jamie from her arms. From out of nowhere he produced a knife. “Stay here, Emma. Please stay here. Understand that I am sorry, but I have to get money or they’re going to hurt all of us.”
“Pete, don’t do this. You could help the police get these guys. You could do the right thing.”
He shook his head and ran down the hall. Jamie was screaming. “Mommy!”
“Jamie, Mommy is here. Don’t worry.” She let him get a short distance ahead of her and then she ran after him.
He got through the glass door to the outside. Before she could reach it, he jammed something under it so she couldn’t open it. She screamed and pounded. He kept going, Jamie yelling for her mommy, the knife hanging loosely in his hand. Halfway to his old truck he dropped the knife and kept going.
Emma watched him drive away. She wanted to know the direction. She pulled out her phone and called 911. As she did the door behind her opened. Footsteps sounded on the tile floor. Daron was yelling at her, telling her to give him details.
Boone was there. Kayla. Granddad. Her world was fuzzy and cold. Numb.
Nothing made sense. Pete had taken Jamie. She tried to explain, to describe. Sobs were choking her, making it hard to talk. But Daron got the details, and after a quick hug, promising it would be okay, he left. Kayla held her tight, promising that if anyone could get Jamie back, it would be Boone and Daron.
“I want to go home,” she whispered into Art’s shirt a few minutes later. “Granddad, I want to go home. I want to be in my house when they find her and bring her back. I want her to know that we’re there waiting for her.”
“You got it, kiddo.” Art wrapped a protective arm around her and led her through the church. People tried to talk. They touched her arm. They told her they would pray.
As they walked out the front door, Lucy arrived. She pushed through the crowd, positioned herself on Emma’s other side, opposite Granddad, and told her to hang tight, that they’d be home in a minute.
A few people followed them to the farm. Boone Wilder’s mom, Maria. Duke and Oregon. Remington and Samantha. They sat together in the living room as the police questioned her. They asked the same questions over and over again. She kept answering, trying to remember if she’d left out any details.
“I just want my baby. She’s sick,” she sobbed. “She has medicine.”
Art stood, looking taller and more menacing than a man in bib overalls should look. “I think she’s had enough, boys.”
The two police officers focused their attention on him for the moment. “Mr. Lewis, we have to question her. That’s how we’re going to find your granddaughter.”
“I understand that, but she’s answered all of your questions. She’s answered them several times. I don’t know what you’re hoping to learn from her, but she told you everything. Now I’m asking you gentlemen to back off and let her breathe.”
One of them started to rebuke her grandfather. Lucy stepped in. “I think we’re all a little stressed. I think you can give the family time to breathe.”
The officers stood up. “Mrs. Shaw, we want to find your daughter. We’re sorry that we’ve had to question you this way, but we want every detail so we can find her and bring her home.”
She nodded. “I can’t think anymore. I just can’t. I need to go outside. Lucy, can we go out to the barn? Please.”
“Is there something in the barn?” the younger officer asked.
Lucy scrunched her nose at him. “Yes—animals. Fresh air. Space.”
“We’ll be in the yard, not too far away.” The older officer opened the door for Emma and he followed them out.
“Where are we going?” Lucy asked as they crossed to the barn.
“I don’t know. I just need to think. I need to breathe. I can’t remember everything Pete said. But maybe he gave me a clue. I just have to remember.”
“I called his parents. They’re on their way. They said they would keep trying his phone.”
“That’s good of them.”
She sat on a square bale of straw next to the barn. It was cool but clear, the sky brilliant blue. Jamie was out there somewhere. With Pete. Or maybe with Pete’s dealers. She fought back the panic. “Lucy, will you pray with me?”
Lucy sat down next to her. “I’m not a praying person, Emma. You know that.”
“Why?”
“Because my experience with religion wasn’t congregations full of friends and family. It wasn’t kind.”
“I’m sorry. Do you mind if I pray?”
Lucy stared at her for a moment, then took hold of her hand. “I’ll pray with you.”
They bowed their heads and Lucy prayed. It was heartfelt, sweet, simple. When she said the final amen, Emma kept her head bowed. She let tears trickle down her cheeks.
Suddenly a hand touched her back. Daron moved in front of her, knelt and took her in his arms.
“You didn’t find her?”
“We know where she is. Pete has her in Braswell in an old house. He doesn’t know that we know. But I want you to come with us. I want you to talk to him and see if we can reason with him. We don’t want her hurt. We don’t want to have to hurt him.”
“She’s in Braswell. Alone with Pete.”
“There are people watching the house. They won’t let anything happen to her.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
They took Lucy with them to Braswell. Emma sat between Daron and his partner. She closed her eyes, praying that God would somehow loosen up Pete’s heart and give him a clear mind. A conscience. Just for a few minutes if he would do the right thing.
The house in Braswell was exactly what Daron described. It was a drug house. Empty with broken windows. Brown weeds covered the lawn. It might have been a pretty house at one time. Two stories with a small front porch. But time and poverty had gotten the best of it. The window boxes were empty. The shrubs were nearly to the roof.
She didn’t wait for instructions. When Daron stopped to t
alk to Lucy, Emma moved to the broken window on the porch.
“Pete, it’s me. It’s Emma. I’m here to get Jamie. Tell her that I’m here, so she won’t be afraid.” She peeked inside and saw Pete in a corner, her daughter on his lap asleep. Pete held a finger to his mouth, but it was too late. Jamie stirred, then woke up screaming for her mommy.
“Now see what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry. But, Pete, you have to take responsibility. You’ve kidnapped your own niece. You can rationalize all you want, but this is on you. You know that you can make this better or worse. You can hand her over and get help. It’s up to you. I want you to someday apologize and do your best to be the uncle she deserves. Be the person you deserve to be.”
“They’ll kill me if I don’t pay them.”
“That’s something the police can help you with. Maybe you can help the police?”
He kept hold of Jamie, but Emma could see that he was trembling. She climbed through the window and stepped carefully over broken glass. Pete scooted farther into the corner.
“Pete, give me my daughter.”
He stood, holding Jamie away from him, toward her, and then he lunged. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, taking him down. Emma grabbed her daughter and jumped back. Jamie was crying. Maybe they were both crying. It was hard to hear. Pete was screaming that he’d been shot. Police were ramming down the door.
Daron was there, gathering them close, telling them they were safe. His arms remained close around them as he led them from the house littered with needles and old clothes. The stench of the place remained in her nostrils as she walked back to his truck.
Lucy wrapped a blanket around her.
“That was stupid, you know.” Lucy gave her a serious look and shook her head. “Of all the stunts you could have pulled, that was the worst.”
“I had to.”
Lucy clucked a few times like an old mother hen, totally out of character. “Yeah, I know.”
The police questioned her again. This time she was sitting in Daron’s truck and he was next to her. Jamie was in her arms, telling her that Uncle Pete gave her a lollipop and said he was sorry.
As they loaded Pete in the ambulance, his parents arrived. They talked to the police and to their son, and then they waited. For her, she realized. They wanted to see their granddaughter. Emma was both thrilled and frightened.
Daron opened the door of the truck. “Do you want me to send them on their way?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll talk to them for a minute. But then Jamie and I want to go home.”
He led the Shaws to his truck. Emma and Jamie remained inside. She watched as he spoke to Andy’s parents, people he had known most of his life. She tried to read their very guarded expressions. She wondered if they had ever looked at the cards and pictures she’d sent. Or would today be the first time they really saw their granddaughter?
Mrs. Shaw approached the open door, her husband behind her. Lucy was nearby, her most menacing look directed at the couple. Emma felt her chest loosen, the fear ebbing away.
“Emma. Jamie.” Mrs. Shaw wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “My goodness, Jamie, you do look like your daddy.”
Jamie didn’t speak. She cuddled against Emma and looked at the woman she should have known.
“Jamie, this is your grandmother and grandfather Shaw.”
“Uncle Pete needs a time-out,” Jamie sobbed, and buried her face again.
Mrs. Shaw cried, “Yes, he does. Emma, I am so sorry. Please forgive us.”
“Of course.” Emma kissed Jamie’s cheek. “We forgive you. We’re just very tired right now and we want to go home.”
“Of course you do.” Mrs. Shaw touched Jamie, the gesture timid. Her hand rested on Jamie’s back for a brief moment. “I hope that we can visit. When you’re up to it.”
“Yes, we’d like that.”
Mrs. Shaw hugged both Jamie and Emma before walking away with her husband.
* * *
Daron watched the Shaws leave; then he got back in his truck. He sat behind the wheel for a minute before he turned the key in the ignition.
“This has been a long day,” he finally said.
“You can say that again,” Lucy said from the backseat. “Emma, you are about the toughest case we’ve ever had.”
Emma laughed a little. He was glad to hear that laugh. It meant she was already bouncing back.
“I’m so tired,” she said after a minute.
Jamie, buckled in the seat between them, was already dozing, her thumb in her mouth. Emma leaned close to her daughter. He saw her breathe deep and then touch Jamie’s hair.
“The police want us to go by the ER. She should be checked out—just as a precaution.” Daron waited until he was actually on the road to the hospital to make this announcement. He guessed that made him a chicken.
Emma gave her daughter a careful look and nodded. “Yes, of course.”
The ER staff was expecting them. They had an exam room and Dr. Jacobs was waiting. Daron was thankful it was someone Jamie knew. It made it easier that she knew his smile, his voice. He allowed her to sit on her mom’s lap and he talked about ponies and kittens. Daron stood in the doorway, watching over them.
He guessed he’d have to figure things out now. He had been watching over them for the last few years. He’d known for a couple of years that Pete was being a nuisance, so his presence had seemed necessary. Or so he’d told himself.
Dr. Jacobs finished the exam and handed Jamie a big stuffed horse. “I heard you were coming and that you’d had a pretty eventful day, so I went down to the gift shop to see if they had any ponies. This was the only one, but they assured me he doesn’t eat much, doesn’t make messes and he can sleep in the house.”
Jamie accepted the gift, and whispered, “Thank you.”
Daron watched as the good doctor said goodbye to the patient and her mother. A new emotion washed over him. Jealousy.
He shrugged and let it roll off. Water off a duck’s back, he told himself.
Chapter Sixteen
Christmas morning dawned overcast and cool with flurries falling. Jamie ran out the front door and yelled, “Snow.”
It wasn’t really snow, but living in Texas Hill Country, they would take what they could get. Emma followed her daughter out, holding a jacket out to slip her arms in. Jamie wiggled into the jacket, then tromped down the steps of the porch and into the yard. She stood for a full minute with her face up and her tongue out. The flurries turned into large white feathery flakes. They were the type that fell hard and fast but then ended as quickly as they began.
Granddad wandered to the door. “You girls are silly. Aren’t we going to head over to the McKay Ranch?”
“Yes, soon.” Emma tilted her head and caught a few flakes with her own tongue. Jamie saw and laughed.
Emma wasn’t in a hurry to go to Daron’s. She was afraid. Of a lot of things. Of what she felt. Of the future. Of spending this day with his family. Old emotions were rearing their ugly head. She wasn’t good enough. He didn’t really want her, just the idea of her. He’d realize that soon and then she’d be left with a broken heart.
No, she caught herself. Not a broken heart. A heart could only be broken if a person loved someone who hurt them. She didn’t love Daron. They were friends. She cared about him. They had shared some sweet moments.
That didn’t make it love.
But he’d invited them to spend Christmas with him and his family, and she’d accepted. Partly because she wanted time with him. She found herself missing him now that Pete was in jail and he’d helped the police get the cartel that he’d been working for. She also thought that she would tell him soon they needed time and space because she was afraid they’d been thrown together and that it was possible she was
confused about what she felt. Or maybe he was confused.
She knew that someday she would marry again. She didn’t want a second failed marriage.
This was her putting the horse before the cart, thinking that there was more to her relationship with Daron than maybe there was. And that was why she had to take a step back and discover the truth. What she felt. What he felt.
Granddad had fixed breakfast that morning. It was a Christmas tradition. Every year he made the same thing for Christmas breakfast. Biscuits and gravy, cinnamon rolls, eggs and bacon. Afterward they would usually tell the Christmas story and then open gifts.
This year Granddad read the Christmas story from the Bible and then they jumped in the truck, Daron’s truck, and headed south in the direction of the McKay spread, as her granddad called it.
With each passing minute, Emma’s apprehension grew. Her granddad shot her a careful look. “Em, if you don’t breathe, you’re going to pass out. Calm down. It isn’t like you haven’t met these people before. It’s Christmas, so smile and stop looking like you’re heading to the hangman’s noose.”
She nodded and managed a grimace that was meant to be a smile. She took a few deep breaths and wiped her palms down the sides of her jeans. She looked at the jeans she’d picked, with boots and a long tunic-style sweater. Maybe she should have worn a dress?
Art shook his head. He was pulling up to the house. There were several cars already parked out front. She guessed them to belong to his parents and maybe his sister, Janette.
“We’re here!” Jamie said gleefully.
Emma smiled down at her daughter, got out of the truck and they walked hand in hand to the front door of a home that looked more like a lodge and less like a home. A woman about her age answered the door.
“You must be Emma! And Jamie and Art. Please, come in. We’re all in the kitchen. Mom doesn’t really cook, but she has a great caterer. We brought everything down in coolers. It’s amazing.”
Emma allowed Janette to lead her through the house to the kitchen. Art was muttering about electric bills and wasted space. She sent him a warning look and he just chuckled and kept on talking.
Her Guardian Rancher Page 15