“Can we pray that Jesse won’t go?” Abigail rolled over on her side and started to scratch again. Laura put a hand on her daughter’s hand.
“Stop scratching. And no, we can’t do that. We can pray for Jesse, that he’ll be safe and that he’ll know God’s will. We can’t pray that he won’t go.”
Abigail grinned big. “Unless it’s God’s will that he doesn’t go.”
She had Laura with that. “Stay still—we’re going to try Myrna’s hair-spray trick and see if it stops the itching.”
“It’ll burn.”
“No, it suffocates the chiggers, and tomorrow when you get up, we’ll put itchy medicine on the bites.”
Abigail got out of bed and followed Laura to the bathroom.
“Mommy, do you love Jesse?”
Laura found the hair spray and when she turned, Abigail had tears in her eyes. Laura breathed in deeply and exhaled. “That’s a very big question for a little girl. I love you. I love chocolate cake.”
Abigail smiled and snorted a little.
“I love him, too, Mom. And even if he’s gone a year, I will still love him. Even more than chocolate cake.”
Laura blinked away tears. She had meant to protect Abigail from this heartache. She had failed.
“Let me spray your legs with this.” Laura sprayed her daughter’s itchy legs and then led her back to bed where she tucked her in tightly with the quilt.
“Close your eyes and I’ll say bedtime prayers with you.”
Abigail nodded, her eyes closed. Laura said a prayer and kissed her cheek again. “Night, angel.”
“Night, Mommy.”
Laura stood at the door for a moment, watching Abigail drift off to sleep. She turned and walked back to the living room where she turned on a lamp and sat down to find a mindless TV program that she could drift off to sleep with.
She dozed toward the end of the show but woke to the sound of a car coming up the drive. No one had buzzed to be let in. She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. It was later than she thought, almost one in the morning. The car pulled into her drive.
She eased to the door and peeked out, her heart pounding and her legs trembling. She reached into her pocket for her phone and it wasn’t there. She’d left it on the counter.
As she headed that way to grab it, someone pounded on the door. Laura held her breath, her skin tingling as her heart beat harder.
“It’s Ryan. Let me in.”
Laura shook her head and stood there. If she didn’t answer, maybe he’d go away. Instead he pounded harder.
“Laura, I saw you in there. Let me in. Don’t be stupid—I won’t hurt you.”
He already had. He’d stolen her trust. His father, her stepfather, had stolen her trust. Ryan had left her to pay the consequences of his actions and she’d lost her daughter, three months of her life and her future.
“Ryan, go away.”
“I just need money. You can get me money. Or you can sit in there and wonder what I’ll do next. Let me in or I’ll put what I have in your car and call the police.”
“I don’t have money.”
“You’re living off one of the richest families in northeast Oklahoma. You have money.”
“No, I have a home and a chance to get my life back on track. I don’t have money.”
“I need to leave the state, Laura. You’re my sister, so you have to help me.”
She had been down this path before. She had given in to the pleading. She’d been living her life giving in to people who used her. Tonight she wanted to stand her ground, but what if standing her ground got Abigail hurt, or worse?
“I’m not letting you in, Ryan. Because of you, I lost my daughter for six months of her life. I won’t trust you again.”
“Why do I bother with you?”
“I don’t know. Since it seems pointless, why don’t you leave?”
“Mommy?”
Laura turned. Abigail, sleepy and hair wispy around her face, stood in the doorway. Laura briefly closed her eyes and prayed a quick prayer. She had to stay calm. And only God could keep them safe now.
“Abigail, go to the bathroom and lock the door.” She said it as calmly as she could.
“Is that Uncle Ryan?”
“Abigail, please do what I ask. And get my phone off the counter and take it with you.”
Abigail nodded and raced from the room, her bare feet pitter-pattering on the tile. Laura heard her daughter race down the hall and heard the bathroom door close and lock.
The front doorknob jiggled. Ryan pounded again. She reached to lock the dead bolt as he kicked and the door shook with the pressure of his body pounding against it.
“Ryan, I’m calling 911.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be gone before they get here.” He rammed the door again.
In the distance she heard sirens. She whispered a quiet thank-you and looked up, her smile as shaky as her legs. Ryan swore and then his footsteps pounded as he ran.
Laura turned the dead bolt in case he came back for one last attempt. She peeked out the window as two police cars pulled up. Two officers jumped from one car and ran after Ryan as he fled on foot.
The other officer walked up to the door. Laura’s hands shook as she twisted the locks and opened the door.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Rogers. Are you alone in the house?”
She shook her head. “My daughter is in the bathroom.”
He smiled. “Yes, she’s on the phone with our dispatcher.”
“She called?”
He nodded and stepped inside. “There’s no one else in here?”
His hand remained on his weapon as he glanced around the house.
“No, just my daughter and me. My stepbrother, Ryan Baldwin, is the one outside. He tried to kick the door down.”
“Do you know what he was after?”
“Money to leave the state.”
The officer nodded. “Can you take a seat for me while I make a call?”
“My daughter. She’ll be afraid.”
“I’ll bring her out.” He stepped away and talked into the mic on his collar as he walked through the house.
A minute later Abigail raced into the living room and threw herself at Laura. “Mommy, I called 911.”
“I know you did.” She looked up at the officer. “But she only called a few minutes before you got here.”
“The gate is attached to a security system monitored by a private company. When the gate opened without a security code activation, the alarm went off and the company notified our county dispatch.”
Laura hugged her daughter tightly. She could hear yelling outside. One of the voices belonged to her stepbrother. The officer who had remained with them walked back to the door.
“Guys, we have an active warrant on Mr. Baldwin.”
“A warrant?” Laura continued to hold Abigail tight.
“Yeah, a felony drug warrant.”
She closed her eyes but relief didn’t last long. “Could you please check my car and make sure he didn’t put anything in there?”
“Do you suspect that he would?” The officer stood at the door writing on a notebook.”
“He threatened. And he did it once before.”
“I’ll check the car.” He stepped back to the door. “I’ve had a call that there’s someone on the way to stay with you tonight.”
“Someone, who?”
He shifted to look out the door. “Mia Cooper is here.”
Mia? Laura shook her head. She’d only met Mia once.
“I’m here.” Mia was tall with long dark hair and an easy smile. She had a gun strapped to her side. She smiled at the officer and he smiled back, an easy smile as if they’d known each other awhile.
“Hi, Laura and Abigail.” Mia took over in a way that didn’t seem like taking over. “I’m just here until Jesse can get home.”
“Jesse won’t be home for a week,” Laura explained, covering up her daughter, who had curled against her side and wh
ose eyes were getting heavy with sleep. “Mia, you don’t have to stay. We’re used to...”
“Taking care of yourself?” Mia finished the sentence. “Yeah, that’s what Jesse said. But everyone needs help. Let’s call this a slumber party.”
The police left a short time later. Laura sipped the water Mia had brought her. “You said Jesse asked you to stay here until he gets back?”
Mia smiled. “Yeah. He got the call from the security company. He immediately called me. I’m in town this week.”
“I’m sure babysitting us isn’t what you planned to do while you were home.”
“Laura, Ryan is gone. They’re probably processing him at the county jail right now. You’re safe. I’m just here because no one wants to be alone when they’ve gone through something like this.”
She had to admit that it did help. “You’re right—being alone wouldn’t have been at the top of my list tonight.”
Mia grinned and reached for the remote. “How about a chick flick?”
“Romance?” Laura scrunched her nose and shook her head.
Mia laughed and flipped through the channels. “So true—who needs romance? It’s messy and makes you feel horrible.”
“I take it you’ve experienced it.”
Mia stopped flipping through the channels and landed on an action movie. “Yeah, I’ve experienced it. The guy couldn’t handle a woman with a gun. A strong woman.”
“I want to be strong. If we’re strong, we don’t have to worry about needing a man.”
The movie paused mid-action. Mia looked her over, settled her gaze on Abigail and smiled. “Sometimes a girl finds a guy who will love her no matter what.”
Laura smiled at the sudden optimism. “I’ll take your word on that.”
“You should.” Mia hit Play and the movie continued with a car going over a cliff. Laura somehow managed to sleep but it was restless with dreams of Ryan peering in the window and Jesse boarding a plane for South America.
Chapter Nineteen
Jackson had picked Jesse up at the school. As they pulled up his driveway, past the gate that now leaned to the side, Jackson shot him a look. Jesse shook his head.
“I shouldn’t have left her here alone.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Maybe I should have given him the money to leave.”
“You had no way of knowing her stepbrother would do something like this. Seriously, Jesse, you’ve been planning this trip for a long time. If you hadn’t gone, you wouldn’t have found the answers you needed.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“You found answers, right?” Jackson was only a year older than Jesse but was always playing the big brother.
“I found answers.” He unbuckled his seat belt as they pulled up to the cottage. He glanced at the clock. Barely six in the morning.
“If you aren’t careful, Mia will shoot you.”
“I’ll be careful. Thanks for the ride.”
“Are you heading back today?” Jackson parked the truck but he didn’t kill the engine.
“I don’t know.” He opened his door. “I’ll let you know.”
“I’ve got a few horses to haul down south. If you can’t get me, call Jeremy.”
“Thanks, Jackson.” Jesse closed the door and reached into the back of the truck for his suitcase. He walked up the sidewalk and hesitated before knocking.
Jackson waved and backed out of the driveway. Jesse stared at that closed door. Once he knocked he’d have to think quickly what to say. He didn’t have a plan.
It was a crazy feeling standing there, not knowing what his next move would be.
The door opened. Abigail smiled up at him, her dark hair in ragged pigtails, her bare feet sticking out from under her princess nightgown.
“You’re back,” she whispered loudly.
“I am back.” He held his finger to his lips. “Is your mom still sleeping?”
Abigail nodded. “On the couch. I’m not supposed to open the door when she’s sleeping, but it’s you and that’s okay, isn’t it?”
“I think it is. I’m going to take off my boots and we’ll tiptoe inside and make her breakfast. How does that sound?”
Abigail nodded again and opened the door wider. He left his boots on the front porch and followed her inside. Mia was curled up in the big chair with the ottoman. Laura was stretched out on the couch with an afghan over her.
Jesse followed Abigail into the kitchen. She pointed to a chair at the dining room table. He picked it up and carried it to the counter. He lifted her up so that she could stand on the seat.
“I’m glad you’re back.” She held on to the counter and watched as he opened cabinet doors and the fridge.
“Me, too.” He stood with the refrigerator door open. “What do you think I should make?”
“Pancakes?”
He shook his head. “Only if you have the kind that heat up in the microwave.”
“We have cereal,” she offered.
He pulled out a carton of eggs. “I make a pretty good omelet.”
She shrugged and then nodded. “Okay, but not too much cheese.”
“You got it.” He pulled milk and cheese out of the fridge. He found a package of ham that he could cut up.
“Do I get to help?”
He nodded and searched drawers until he found a whisk. “I’ll crack eggs and you can whip them up while I find a pan.”
He cracked eggs into a bowl, added milk and slid it to Abigail to mix. “Before I find a pan, we should start the coffee.”
“Yeah, ’cause Mommy is cranky without coffee.”
He poured water in the reservoir of the coffeemaker. “Yeah, we don’t want her to be cranky.”
When he turned from the coffeepot, Abigail was watching him, her eyes huge and full of tears. He hadn’t really known what to say to her about the previous evening, or if he should even bring it up. The tears meant that even though they were having fun, she had a lot of little-girl worry building up.
“Last night was tough, huh?” He stepped close and she held out her arms to him. Little-girl trust. She should always know how to trust.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was afraid. Uncle Ryan was mean.”
“Yes, he was. But not all men are mean, Abigail. Real men, the kind that you’ll marry someday, protect and love women—they don’t hurt them.”
“I want to marry a cowboy.” She smiled as she made the announcement.
“Or a doctor?”
She nodded. “A cowboy and a doctor. Like you.”
“Yeah, like me.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Tears filled her blue-gray eyes again. He wanted to promise her that he wouldn’t go, but he couldn’t make that promise.
Behind them he heard footsteps. He turned and smiled at Laura. She stood in the doorway, her long hair a mass of loose curls, her eyes hazy with sleep.
“Jesse? What are you doing here?”
Obviously Mia hadn’t told her. “Surprise? Good or bad?”
Laura stepped farther into the room. “Good. Mia said she would stay with us until you got back. I thought...”
She bit down on her bottom lip, and he recognized someone trying to hold it together. Her gaze focused on his face and then switched to look at her daughter. Abigail held up the whisk, letting egg drip back into the bowl.
“I’m making you breakfast.”
Laura smiled at Abigail. “I see that.”
“I wanted to let you sleep a little longer.” Jesse put the milk on the counter. “Hey, Abigail, do you think you could give us a minute?”
Abigail stepped down off the chair. “I’ll wake Mia up.”
“Good idea.” Jesse smiled as the little girl skipped away. He listened as she tried to wake Mia. He heard Mia’s groggy reply, soft voices and then a minute later the click of the front door.
Mia, always smart.
Laura stood in the doorway, still watching the cowboy in stocking feet. He filled up her kitchen, her house, her life.
She had heard him tell her daughter that someday she would have a husband, a man who was strong, someone she could trust.
Laura couldn’t help but compare that someone to him. Her heart ached looking at him.
He opened his arms to her, strong arms, a solid chest, a good heart. “I’m here for you.”
The words broke her down. She walked into the kitchen and into his arms. Her cheek rested against the soft, worn cotton of the pale blue shirt, the collar frayed at the seams. It smelled like Jesse, like the outdoors, like cedar and warm sunshine on the grass.
His hands held her close. His arms were strong. She never wanted to leave those arms.
“What are you doing here?” She looked up and he smiled down at her. He brushed his cheek, rough because he hadn’t shaved, against hers.
“I’m here because you needed me.”
“Are you always there for a woman when she needs you?”
“Always. I’m always going to be here for you. As long as you want me here.”
“Jesse, don’t make promises.”
“I’m not making promises. I’m telling you that I want to be here. I want to be in your life. I want to hold you and make you feel strong and help you to trust that there are people who won’t hurt you, won’t walk out on you.”
“That sounds like a promise.”
“I guess it is. And I don’t break my promises.”
He pulled her close, inhaling deeply and then sighing. She wanted to stay in his arms, but she couldn’t. He was here and none of it really added up.
“What about the school? What about South America?”
“The school was great. South America is a continent in our southern hemisphere and I hope to someday travel there. But not alone. And I do hope to find my mother and sister. Also, not alone.”
“You aren’t going?”
“My mission is here. I realized that a couple of days ago. I was sitting in one of their chapel services and it hit me that Jeremy is doing exactly what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“You’re staying?” she asked, trying to process what this meant for her life.
“I’m staying. My plans have changed.” He stepped close and she held her breath as he leaned, his hands on her back holding her close. She rested her hands on his shoulders, waiting.
The Cowboy's Healing Ways (Cooper Creek) Page 17