Mountain Heiress: Mountain Midwife

by Cassie Miles

  There was a silence. He cleared his throat and his deep voice dropped all the way into the cellar. “What are you talking about?”

  “After I left your house, I was kidnapped by the robbers to help a woman in the gang deliver her baby. You must have suspected something. My van was at the house where the three people were killed.”

  “I haven’t heard anything about your van. As far as I know the three victims were found by the FBI in a clearing right before the blizzard hit.”

  “Not in a house?”

  “No.”

  A cover-up. She should have expected as much. Penny had told her that the house belonged to Baron; he wouldn’t want to be associated with them.

  Quietly, Cole said, “Tell him you have an address.”

  She spoke up, “I can give you the location of—”

  “Is somebody with you?” Jim asked.

  “Yes.” She wouldn’t lie. “I’m with a man who was part of the gang, but he’s really an undercover FBI agent. A good guy. He saved my life. And the baby’s.”

  “You have the baby with you,” Jim said.

  “If we’d left her behind, they would have killed her. You have to believe me.”

  “Where are you, Rachel?”

  She looked at Cole, who shook his head. Sadly, she agreed with him. If she told Jim where she was, the police would be at the door, and they’d be handed over to the people who wanted them dead.

  “I can’t tell you. There’s a conspiracy going on that’s too complicated to explain. If I’m taken into FBI custody, I’ll be arrested or made to disappear. Or killed.”

  “Is that what this undercover fed told you? Rachel, you have to get away from him. He’s no good.”

  “Deputy Loughlin,” Cole said with calm authority, “you know Rachel isn’t a criminal. She’s a healer. To protect her, it’s imperative that you tell no one about this phone call.”

  “Don’t tell me about protecting Rachel.” Jim’s voice rumbled. “I’d do anything for her.”

  “I’m counting on your silence,” Cole said. “I’m going to give you an address. It’s the house where the murders took place. Even if the blood has been cleaned up, there will be evidence of a shoot-out. Check the property records and find the name of the owner. Tell no one what you’re doing.”

  “I won’t help you. That’s aiding and abetting.”

  “Please,” Rachel said. “I need your help, Jim.”

  Cole gave him the address. “We’ll call you back.”

  As he disconnected the call and slipped the phone into his pocket, Rachel felt her high hopes come crashing to the ground. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not even Jim.

  * * *

  COLE PULLED OPEN the heavy velvet drapes in the front parlor and looked outside. Above the snow-laden rooftops, he saw the clouds breaking up and the sky turning blue. Sunlight glistened on mounds of snow piled beside the sidewalks. Kids in parkas and snow hats were having a snowball fight. People waved to each other. A four-wheel-drive vehicle bounced along the plowed street in front of the house.

  His undercover work generally led him into rat-infested back alleys and strip joints. Not here. Not to small town America, where you couldn’t see the criminals until they held a knife to your throat.

  He turned away from the window.

  The scene inside the house was equally charming. Rachel and Pearl sat beside each other on the fancy Victorian sofa. Their heads bent down; the curly blond bangs on Pearl’s forehead almost touched Rachel’s sleek dark hair as they fussed over the baby.

  There wasn’t time for cooing infants and cozy musing after the storm. He and Rachel had managed to find Penny’s mother without too much difficulty. Sooner or later, Baron’s men would do the same. They could be surrounding the place at this very moment.

  “Ladies,” he snapped.

  Pearl looked up at him. Though her lips smiled, her expression was flat. Something inside her had died. When he’d talked to her earlier, she had demanded the truth about her daughter’s death. He’d tried to be gentle, but as he spoke, he’d seen the cold embrace of despair and sorrow squeeze the light from her eyes.

  Beside her, Rachel had slipped into an attitude of outward calm that masked her internal tension. She’d looked the same way when she directed Penny through the last stage of labor.

  These two women weren’t kidding themselves. No matter how unflustered they looked, both were aware of the tragedy and the danger. They needed him to point the way.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “First we get Pearl and Goldie to safety.”

  “Agreed,” Pearl said. “I can’t stay here. Too many people in town know that I’m house-sitting.”

  “Deputy Loughlin said there were roadblocks and surveillance cams, but they won’t be looking for you. Take Goldie and get onto the highway as soon as possible.”

  “You need a car seat,” Rachel said.

  “Not a problem. The woman who owns this house has a couple of car seats in the closet of the guest bedroom for when her grandchildren come to visit in the summer.” She looked down at the sleeping baby on her lap. “Don’t worry, little one. Grammy Pearl is going to take good care of you.”

  “You shouldn’t return to your home in Denver,” he said. “Not until we know it’s safe.”

  When she nodded, her curly blond ponytail bounced. “Maybe I can stay with a friend in Granby. She was Penny’s favorite teacher in high school. Taught economics and history.”

  “Does she still teach there?” Rachel asked. “I might know her. I do health programs at the high school.”

  “Jenna Cambridge.”

  “A teacher?” Rachel lifted an eyebrow. “Penny talked about Jenna as though she was more of a friend.”

  “That boundary might have gotten a bit fuzzy. Jenna was new in town and lonely. Plain as dishwater. She liked to go out with Penny.” Her lip trembled. “My daughter attracted attention wherever she went.”

  Though Cole had known Penny for less than a month, he had to agree. Even nine months pregnant, Penny was a firecracker. “Did Jenna know Penny’s boyfriends?”

  “More than I did.” Pearl swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Penny didn’t tell me much about the guys she dated.”

  Gently, Rachel said, “One of them might be Goldie’s father. Penny said they started dating when she was in high school. He was an older man.”

  “How much older?”

  “He took her to a classy places, bought her expensive gifts.” Rachel circled her wrist with her fingers. “A diamond tennis bracelet.”

  “Those were real?”

  “According to Penny.”

  “How could I miss that? I’m a jewelry designer.” Pearl’s features hardened. Anger was beginning to replace her sadness. “Not that I work with precious gems. Amethyst is about as fancy as I get. And pearls, of course.”

  He noticed that she was wearing silver teardrop earrings and a ring with three black pearls. Her only bit of artistic flamboyance was her colorful patchwork jacket. He liked her flair and her earthy sensibility.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Does the name Wayne Prescott mean anything to you?”

  She frowned as she considered. Her hand absently patted Goldie’s backside. “I don’t know him. Is he the father?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me more about this older man.”

  “Penny didn’t actually say how they met, but I got the idea that he was somehow connected to her school. Not a teacher, though. Maybe the father of another student. She said that Jenna told her he was Penny’s Mister Big—the man she’d spend the rest of her life with.”

  “Jenna knew? All of a sudden, I don’t want to see her or talk to her. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  “Penny probably asked her not to.”

  “I never guessed that Penny was dating an adult man. She was only seventeen when she waltzed through the door with that bracelet.” She shot a hard glance at Cole. “If she was sleepin
g with him, that’s rape, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “This older man is the mastermind behind the gang and the robberies. They call him Baron.”

  Still holding Goldie, she surged to her feet. “And he’s the father.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to catch this bastard.”

  Cole had come to the same conclusion. He and Rachel couldn’t run forever. The only way they’d be able to turn themselves in to the cops would be if they had solid, irrefutable evidence against Baron. They needed to go on the offensive.

  “We can start by talking to Jenna,” he said. “She might know Baron’s real name.”

  “I’ll make the call,” Pearl said as she handed the sleeping baby to Rachel.

  In the kitchen, Cole went over a few things Pearl needed to avoid mentioning. Obviously, she couldn’t tell Jenna about him or Rachel. And it was best not to mention that she had Goldie with her. Penny’s high school teacher had already kept one secret from Pearl. “She’s not entirely trustworthy.”

  “You can say that again.” Pearl gave a brisk nod. “Listen, Cole. I’m a pretty good actress. Just tell me what to say.”

  “You want to get the father’s name. That’s number one.”

  “Got it.”

  “Pretend that you never saw us. Say that you had a call from Penny and she had her baby.” He glanced at the clock on the stove. “It’s after nine. Will Jenna be at work?”

  “Not today. The kids are out of school because of the blizzard.”

  He handed Pearl his cell phone, which had been recharging for the past hour. “Make the call. Put it on speaker.”

  Jenna answered on the third ring. Her greeting was overly effusive—as giggly as the teenagers she taught. “I haven’t seen you in ages, Pearl. How are you?”

  “I’m worried,” she said. “Penny called last night and said she had her baby, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with her. Did she call you?”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl. Her name is Goldie,” Pearl said.

  “Congratulations, grandma. You must be so happy.”

  “Must be.” Sadness tugged at the corners of Pearl’s lips, but she kept her voice upbeat. “I sure wish I knew the baby’s daddy. I think it was somebody she dated in high school. Did she mention him to you?”

  “Penny has so many boyfriends. I can’t keep track.”

  “This one was special. He gave her that sparkly tennis bracelet.”

  “Sorry. I don’t remember.”

  Cole didn’t believe Jenna. Penny would have been sure to brag about her diamonds, and she’d told Rachel that Jenna was her confidante.

  Pearl said, “She called him Mister Big.”

  “Like Sex and the City.” She giggled. “I guess Penny is the Granby version of high fashion.”

  “Are you sure,” Pearl said, “that you don’t remember him?”

  “Not at all, but I’ll let you know when Penny contacts me. I’m sure she’ll turn up. Like a bad penny.”

  “Why?” Pearl’s voice betrayed her rising frustration. “Why are you so sure she’ll contact you?”

  “For one thing, we’re friends. For another, she’s been sending me these mysterious packages to hold for her.”

  Jenna was the contact.

  Penny had been using her high school teacher as the drop-off person after the robberies. She’d been sending Jenna bundles of loot.

  Chapter Twelve

  As hideouts went, the office in the back of Lily Belle’s Soda Fountain and Ice Cream Shop was okay. At least, Rachel thought so. She would have preferred staying in the house, but too many people knew Pearl was living there. Lily Belle’s was empty, closed for the season and it had an alarm system.

  She and Cole would stay here until nightfall. According to his FBI training, the first twenty-four hours were considered to be the most crucial in a manhunt. After that, the intensity would let up, and they’d make their move.

  Rachel slipped off her parka and lowered herself onto the mint-green futon. After sending Pearl on her way with Goldie and the massive backpack filled with baby supplies, she felt unencumbered and a hundred times less tense. All she had to worry about was her own safety and Cole’s.

  After closing the office door and placing their food supplies on the coffee table in front of the futon, he prowled around the windowless, peach-colored room. The top of the cream-painted desk was empty except for a day-by-day calendar, a pencil jar that looked like an ice cream cone and a couple of framed photographs of smiling, blue-eyed kids. Lily’s grandchildren, no doubt. A row of three-drawer cabinets in pastel colors lined the back wall. Bouquets of fake flowers in matching pastel vases sat atop them. A light coat of dust covered every surface. Otherwise, the office was clean. The lingering scent of vanilla and buttery cream hung in the air.

  “Too cutesy,” he muttered.

  “Like Willie Wonka. But with ice cream.”

  He checked the thermostat. “Good thing we brought blankets. It’s set at fifty-two degrees.”

  “Sounds about right. Warm enough to keep things from freezing but not wasteful. Nobody is supposed to be here until the summer season.”

  He sank onto the futon beside her. “Take off your shoes.”

  “Why?”

  “We should explore this place, and I don’t want to leave wet footprints in case somebody looks through the front window.”

  With a groan, she wiggled her butt deeper into the futon cushion and stretched her legs out in front of her. Her thigh muscles ached after their crack-of-dawn trek across Shadow Mountain Lake in snowshoes. “What’s the point of looking around? Nobody knows we’re here. We’re safe.”

  “Are we?”

  “Please let me pretend—just for a moment—that crazy people with guns aren’t trying to kill us.”

  “That’s not your style,” he said. “You’re realistic. Practical. You don’t delude yourself.”

  His snap analysis was pretty much on target, but she didn’t want him to get cocky. “What makes you think you know me?”

  “I’m a trained observer.”

  She supposed that was true. “In your undercover work, I guess you need to be able to figure out how people are going to act. To be thinking one step ahead.”

  “That’s right.”

  “But that’s on the surface. On a deeper level, you don’t know me at all.”

  He dropped his boots onto the pink-and-green patterned area rug. “I’ve had a chance to observe your behavior in high-stress situations. I know how you’ll react.”

  “But you don’t know why,” she said. “You can’t tell what I’m thinking. You don’t know what’s going on inside my head.”

  He turned toward her and stared—stared hard as though he could actually see her brain working. The two days’ growth of stubble on his chin and his messy hair made him look rough, rugged and sexy. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips.

  The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin. Then he came across the futon and leaned in close. The suddenness of his kiss took her breath away.

  Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him against her. His mouth worked against hers. His tongue pushed through her lips.

  In spite of her exhaustion, her body responded with a surge of excitement. She didn’t feel the chill in the room, didn’t look for an escape, didn’t want to do anything but prolong this contact.

  Ever since their kiss in the cabin, she’d been waiting for this moment—a time when they were finally alone. She had every intention of making love to Cole, but she didn’t want to give in too fast. She wanted him to work for it.

  Abruptly, she ended the kiss and pulled away from him. But only a few inches away. His face filled her field of vision, and she was captivated by the shimmer in his light brown eyes.

  He murmured, “Is that what you were thinking?”

  Was she that obvious? Did she radiate a vibe that told him she was a single, thirtysomething woman who needed
a big strong man? “You tell me.”

  “You kissed me back,” he said.

  “Just being polite.”

  “Here’s what I know about you,” he said. “You’re smart, competent and pretty. You’re at a good place in your life, and you love your work.”

  “I sound good,” she said. “You’re lucky to be in the same room with me.”

  “You’re brave. But you’re also scared.”

  Apparently, the compliment train had come to an end. The gleam in his eyes sharpened as he assessed her. He said, “You’ve been hurt.”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  As smoothly as he’d pounced on her, he adjusted his position so he was sitting beside her. “Who hurt you, Rachel? What happened?”

  She thought of the men who had passed through her life, ranging from motorcycle man to a rocker with more tattoos than brains. That array of losers wasn’t her greatest hurt.

  “A six-year-old boy,” she said.

  She had never talked about this. Never. The memory was too painful, too devastating. Her memory of that boy sucked the air from her lungs.

  “His name,” she said, “was Adam.”

  He held her hand. “Go on.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  After this crisis was over, she didn’t honestly expect to see him again. He would go back to California and be an undercover fed. She’d stay here and continue with her midwife career. They were like the proverbial ships passing in the night—if ships were capable of stopping at sea and having hot sex. Bottom line: she didn’t need to reveal the dark corners of her soul to him.

  He squeezed her hand. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Adam?”

  “You’re not going to give up on this, are you?”

  “No pressure.” He sat back on the futon and turned his gaze away from her. His profile was relaxed and calm. He was waiting; his message was clear.

  If she wanted to talk, he’d listen. If not, she could keep her secrets buried. It certainly would be less complicated to grab him and proceed with the passion they were both feeling, but the words were building up inside her. If she didn’t speak, she might explode.

  “I’d been working as an EMT for a year and a half,” she said. “I’d seen a lot. Traffic accidents. Heart attacks. Gunshot wounds. The work was getting to me. I was on the verge of a burnout.”