Texas Takedown

by Barb Han

  “How do you know Maribel is okay?” She didn’t want to ask but she had to be sure.

  “They gave proof of life.”

  When she responded by lifting her eyebrow, he added, “Her picture with today’s paper.”

  “Why would someone know to do that?”

  “This isn’t their first rodeo. They also had access to an out-of-town warehouse and I’m guessing they move ‘product’ through there.” The way he emphasized the word made her think he couldn’t say what they really moved—children.

  More children.

  “Did they say anything about my father’s health?”

  “No.”

  “What about a picture of him?”

  Dylan took in a sharp breath. “We’re going to get them both home safely. We’ll figure this out. You have my word.”

  She wanted more from him than that and he seemed to sense it. He pulled her closer until her body was pressed against his and she could feel warmth radiating from him. She leaned into it, into him, and let him guide her mouth to his.

  There were about a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t allow this to happen, not the least of which was that her feelings seemed to run deeper than his. It had been all too easy for him to push her away every time they got close. Even though logic said the pull between them was strong enough for him to keep coming back, it also said that past behavior was the best predictor of the future. Or, as she liked to think of it, when someone showed her who they truly were underneath it all, she believed them.

  Was there a strong attraction between her and Dylan? Sure. They both had to feel that same electric jolt every time they were near each other or their skin touched. Did she want him to kiss her? Yes.

  She parted her lips to give him better access, because all she wanted in this moment was to feel the comfort of his arms around her, as they were, and the safety she felt with him this close. No one had ever had her back like Dylan. It was a feeling she could get used to, wanted to learn to depend on.

  And even though everything inside her said he wanted more than friendship, she’d be stupid to let this attraction get out of hand. Precisely what was happening.

  She pulled back and then stood.

  “I think we should figure out our next move.”

  “Right.” A hurt look crossed his intense green eyes, and she couldn’t say that she blamed him for feeling that way.

  But she’d already touched that stove how many times? And it was always the same result. They got close and he pulled back. At least Dylan was more honest than Jude from college. He’d betrayed her in the worst way, taking what he wanted from her and then making sure he was getting it everywhere else he wanted, too. All the while, she’d happily played into his sob story about how hard it was to be a student and a single father.

  Dylan never complained about parenthood, or anything else, for that matter, but that still didn’t change the fact that he would never seriously entertain his feelings for her. He was one of the good guys—she knew that.

  And that would make walking away from him hurt like hell.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Rebecca brought food earlier,” Samantha said as she sauntered across the room toward the minifridge. Nervous energy had her needing to move around.

  Dylan sat there for a long moment, thinking about what had just happened. The pull he felt toward Samantha was incredibly strong. He chalked it up to their history, their friendship and the craziness going on around them that only the two of them could understand. But was it something else? Something deeper than circumstances?

  And maybe a better question was...could it be more?

  Another time, another place, and they might have had a shot. His existence was a wonderful chaos by the name of Maribel. With that little girl in his life, he didn’t have time for anyone else. Period.

  As long as he was playing “what if”—if the circumstances had been different, then Samantha would be exactly the kind of woman he’d be interested in pursuing a relationship with.

  This back-and-forth without going anywhere needed to go, and she was clearly just as tired of it. Good thing one of them had the presence of mind to keep them honest.

  Samantha stood in front of him not two feet away, staring with a bowl in her hand. “Hungry?”

  “Nah. I’ll grab a power bar. You go ahead and eat.”

  “What were you thinking about just now?” She eased onto the couch next to him.

  “How crazy life can be.”

  “One minute you think you know where you’re going, what you’re doing, and then wham! A curveball,” she agreed. She took a bite and chewed.

  “I’m proud of you, Samantha. You’ve been through hell and back but you’re still standing. That takes guts,” he said. “No matter what happens, I hope you know you can always count me as a friend.”

  “And what about you? It couldn’t have been easy to wake up a father one day. I’ve seen you with your daughter. You’re a great dad.”

  “Thank you,” he said and meant it. “I had no idea that parenting was mostly about second-guessing yourself all the time.”

  “I can only imagine,” she said. “Think about all the stuff we used to do to our parents and your grandmother when we were kids.”

  “Yeah, she might’ve been too strict, and that presented a whole different set of problems, but I’m pretty much thinking she was a saint for taking me in when she did. She was still working her way toward retirement when I showed up. I’m sure she hadn’t planned on that financially.” Had the strain been too much for her? Was that why she’d pulled back on the leash harder? The two of them had clashed like soap and vinegar.

  “I had four fathers after my mother died.”

  “Must not have been easy being the baby.”

  “You remember that I had to sneak out to do anything. I was way too overprotected, and that wasn’t good, either. I didn’t get a chance to make my own mistakes, because there was always somebody there to guide me in a different direction before things went haywire.” She paused. “Either extreme isn’t good for a kid.”

  “I try to walk the middle ground with Maribel.”

  She shot him a look.

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen you. You’re not middle ground, Dylan.”

  “Okay, fine. You got me there.” He held up his hands in surrender. “More than anything, I just want her to know how much I love her and want her. Everything else seems so much less important.” Dylan paused, his emotions getting the best of him. Truth be known, all he really wanted was her to be there with him.

  “We’re going to get her back. They won’t hurt her as long as I’m out here, just like you said. I won’t let them get to me.” She leaned into him, shoulder to shoulder, and those thousand little fires lit inside him again.

  “That’s why I’ve been thinking we have to find them first.”

  “Okay, what do we have to go on? Anything that we haven’t already thought of?” She set the bowl on the side table next to her.

  “I’ve been racking my brain. All I keep thinking about is Maribel’s face in that picture. She looked confused but brave. I can’t let her sleep another night away from home, Samantha.”

  “What else was there in the background? Where was it taken?”

  “Good questions. She was standing in the corner of a room. I have no idea where but it didn’t look like a house. It wasn’t a warehouse, either. The lights were bright and there was a wooden rocking horse to her left.”

  Samantha’s jaw went slack. “What did the horse look like?”

  “It was black with white spots and a white saddle. Looked as though they’d pushed it over toward her to get her to—”

  “Hold on a second. That’s my horse. We have to go to the store.”

 
; Dylan was already on his feet. “Maybe I should go alone.”

  “Not a chance. You need me with you, and I have a key. Just get me to my dad’s house so I can get it.”

  “I doubt this is a trap. However, we need to be careful.” Taking Samantha anywhere out in the open was a huge risk. All anyone needed was a clear shot and it would be over. They already had two of the three puzzle pieces in check. They didn’t see Dylan as a threat, which was why they’d let him go. Then again, they didn’t know him.

  Dylan called Brody to get permission to borrow his truck.

  “Brody said there’s an extra set of keys in the top desk drawer,” Dylan said to Samantha.

  She retrieved them and followed Dylan to the door.

  They listened as they leaned against the door, quietly, so that the only sound that could be heard was their breathing and the occasional neigh, snort or whinny of a horse or shuffle of hooves.

  After turning off the tiny light in the office, Dylan took Samantha’s hand and led her outside. Keeping their backs against the barn, they moved in perfect unison to the truck.

  Once they got on the road, with any luck, people would confuse them for Brody and Rebecca.

  Dylan moved into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and started the truck. A few minutes later, they were on the road headed toward town.

  The Turner house was a few blocks from the hardware store. Dylan had never been inside Samantha’s childhood home. Her brothers never would have allowed it.

  “What was it like growing up with all those men in your life?”

  “I couldn’t get away with much.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” Sounded pretty darn good to him about now.

  “Both. I rebelled from being smothered, so you don’t want to go that route. That’s why I sneaked out, and looking back, I realize that was such a stupid thing for any of us to do.”

  “Getting out, being with you guys, kept me sane. Or at least somewhat,” Dylan said, half smiling.

  “Don’t get me wrong—I loved it. Spending time with you guys made me happier than I’d ever been. If everything hadn’t backfired, it would’ve been a great thing. But we left ourselves vulnerable because no one knew what we were doing.”

  “Except people playing the game,” he said.

  “Why does everything have to circle back to that horrible summer?” she asked, her tone heavy.

  “I wish it didn’t.”

  She just sat there and stared out the window for a long time. “To answer your question, I think you’re a terrific dad. You don’t have to worry. Maribel will be loved, and that’s the best you can really do for a kid.”

  “I failed her mother and I’m scared I’ll do the same with her.”

  * * *

  “YOU BELIEVE THAT, don’t you?” Samantha looked at Dylan, at the anguish on his features, and her heart did a free fall. From what she’d been told, none of this had been his fault. Did he always carry the weight of the world on his shoulders? Was that why he’d been so tough all those years ago? He’d had to be? She’d been the complete opposite. Everything had been done for her, handled for her. Trevor had walked her to school and Brent had picked her up.

  Looking at Dylan now, she could see how absolutely alone he must feel in bringing up his daughter by himself.

  “I should’ve known that Lyndsey needed me. I was a selfish bastard. All I could think about was how great it was to see her when I was on leave. I had no idea what she was going through on the inside. She must’ve felt rejected and abandoned by me to do what she did. Then to suffer her sickness alone with a toddler...” His voice trailed off. “The news about her leaving town was like lightning striking on a clear blue day. I had no warning, and it feels as though if we were really that close, shouldn’t I have realized something was up?”

  “No one can know how someone else is feeling unless that person is willing to share. You’re not a mind reader, Dylan.” A little piece of her heart opened up at the thought that he was confiding in her. Dylan didn’t talk to anyone about what he was feeling.

  “You’re mad at me. I keep frustrating you. I know that because I can read you, Samantha. With her, I had nothing to work with.”

  “We’ve known each other forever, Dylan. I’m not someone you met six months ago. We have a long history together. But let me ask you this. How did you really know I was angry?”

  “Your lips thin just a little when you’re mad. Not much. And you frown when no one’s talking. You get quiet and go inside your head. You’re a thinker and you’ve always been that way,” he said.

  Samantha wasn’t sure if she liked how well he seemed able to read her.

  “Okay. My turn. You’re confused. You have feelings for me but you’d never let them surface. You put everything else above those feelings because they scare the hell out of you.”

  Dylan grunted. “I don’t do afraid.”

  “If that’s true, then you’re just a jerk, and I know better than that.”

  He sat silent for what felt like an eternity as they slipped into town, heading toward Main Street.

  “You asked about my nickname before. I’m not proud of it. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Aren’t nicknames supposed to be embarrassing?”

  “Yeah, well, this one has to do with some of the more immature activities we participated in while on leave.”

  “And?”

  “Mine has to do with how fast a woman’s bra tended to unsnap when she was alone with me.”

  “Oh.” Snap-trap. It made sense now.

  He seemed to be waiting for more of a response from her but it took her a minute to process. He added, “I was young and stupid.”

  “And good-looking,” she said. It was no surprise women would throw themselves at Dylan. He was the very definition of strong, hot male. Although she didn’t like hearing how many— Jealousy coursed through her. But he was opening up a little more to her. He was trusting her with information that obviously embarrassed him. She couldn’t fault him too much for his past mistakes.

  Maybe that explained why he was so cautious with her now.

  “Your dad’s place is a few blocks away. To be safe, I’ll park behind the restaurant. We can walk from there. Take alleys.”

  “It’ll be better to take Oak instead of Maple. No dogs,” she said.

  They got out and he fell in step beside her.

  At the end of Oak, he stopped. “I just want you to know that I heard what you said in the truck and I apologize. I have some serious thinking to do.”

  With that, he urged her to keep moving.

  What was she supposed to do with that information?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tension corded Dylan’s muscles with each step closer to the hardware store. They’d retrieved her store key in silence. Samantha deserved an explanation. She was right. He’d been hot and cold with her and it had nothing to do with his feelings. They were always hot. Too much like an out-of-control forest fire for him to be comfortable.

  There was a connection between the two of them that he hadn’t experienced with anyone else, not even Lyndsey.

  Was it because of shared history? Possibly. And something else, too. Something more primal. Something that he didn’t have to work at. He just understood Samantha, and it seemed to go both ways.

  But he couldn’t think about that right now. All he could focus on was getting Maribel back home safe and sound.

  His fists curled and adrenaline pumped through him as he thought about the possibility of facing down the jerks who’d taken his daughter. She’d been photographed in the back room of the hardware store, so they needed to enter through the front.

  “What about an alarm?” he asked.

  “I know the cod
e.”

  “The noise will give us away if someone’s inside, and we don’t want that.”

  “Good point.” She stopped and he took her hand in his. Her fingers went still, then wound through his.

  Dylan led her around toward the back of the building. A single light fixture stood sentinel over the metal door. The back parking lot was completely empty.

  Gravel crunched underneath their shoes as they moved to the side of the building. Downtown, stores were linked together by a common wall. The hardware store sat at the mouth of the alley and anchored the strip.

  He leaned his head at the crack of the door, listening for any sounds coming from inside the stockroom.

  All was eerily quiet—the kind of quiet where even the air felt stale.

  After ten minutes, Dylan was certain that if anyone was in the building, they weren’t awake.

  He took Samantha’s hand again and moved down the side of the building toward Main Street and then turned right. The windows were dark. There was no sign of movement inside.

  Samantha squeezed his fingers and then angled her head toward a blinking red dot on the wall.

  “The alarm isn’t armed,” she said.

  There were no signs of forced entry, either, in back or in front.

  “I want to go in first.” He didn’t admit his worst fear that her father and his Maribel might be inside, dead. Anger burned in his gut. Dylan blocked out the possibility. They’re safe. They’ll be home tonight. Those were the only two thoughts he could allow in his head. He couldn’t afford to think any other way.

  Samantha unlocked the wooden door that was half-glass. The hours of business were posted on the top half. Other than that, the hardware store had two bay windows with Turner Hardware etched in white letters on one side.

  A bell tinkled as Samantha opened the door. She winced. “Shoot. I forgot about that.”

  If there was someone inside, he’d know they were coming now. So much for stealth.

  Samantha stepped aside so Dylan could go first.

  “Wait here,” he said, and then stopped. He pulled out his Glock and let the weapon lead the way. Anyone who jumped out or tried to surprise him would get a bullet between the eyes.