by B. J Daniels
“I will take care of you, too—if you give me a chance.” He was getting too near—within reaching distance.
She took a step toward him, closing the distance between them as she pretended to hold out the baby for him to take. She had to be close. She had to make it count. It was her only hope of getting out of here and being with Grace.
As Jonas opened his arms for the baby, she pulled out the rock and swung it at his head. He managed to deflect the blow partially with his hand—just enough to knock the rock from her hold.
But she’d swung hard enough that the rock kept going. It caught him in the temple. He stumbled back. She pulled out the second rock, dropping the baby blankets, as she swung again.
This time, he didn’t get a chance to raise an arm. The rock connected with the side of his head. His blood splattered on the rock, on her hand. He stood for a moment, looking stunned, then he went down hard on the wood floor.
Lola didn’t waste any time. For all she knew he could be out cold—or only momentarily stunned and soon sounding the alarm so the whole cult would be on her heels.
She ran just as she had before. Only this time, she wasn’t leaving her baby behind.
* * *
COLT HAD NEVER had trouble making a decision under duress. He’d been forced to make quick ones flying a chopper in Afghanistan. But one thing he’d never done was leave a man behind.
He couldn’t this time, either. He’d purposely not taken a weapon into the compound earlier. They’d needed to get Grace out clean, and that meant not killing anyone—even if it meant getting themselves killed.
Now he took the weapons he would need. He was changing the rules—just as he was sure Jonas was. Wrapped in his coat, he laid Grace down on the floorboard of the pickup. She would be plenty warm enough—as long as he came back in a reasonable amount of time.
Locking the pickup door, he turned back toward the woods and the SLS compound. He wasn’t leaving without Lola. And this time, he was armed and ready to fight his way in and out of the place if he had to.
* * *
LOLA FELT A sense of déjà vu as she ran through the woods. Her pulse hammered in her ears, her breath coming out in gasps. And yet she listened for the sound of the alarm that would alert the SLS members to fill the woods. Jonas would not let her get away if he had to run her to ground himself.
If he was able.
She had no idea how badly he’d been hurt. Or if he was already hot on her heels.
She crashed through the darkness, shoving away pine boughs that whipped her face and body. Colt had said how important it was for them get in and out of the compound without causing any more harm than was necessary.
“We’re the trespassers,” he’d told her. “We’re the ones who will get thrown in jail if we fail tonight. We need to get in there and out as clean as possible.”
She thought about the blood on the rock and could see something staining her right hand as she ran. Jonas’s blood. She hadn’t gotten out clean. She might have killed him. A cry escaped her lips as her ankle turned under her and she fell hard.
She struggled to get up as she hurriedly wiped the blood on the dried pine needles she’d fallen into. But the moment she put pressure on her ankle, she knew she wasn’t going far. She didn’t think it was broken, but she also couldn’t put any weight on it without excruciating pain.
Grace. Colt. She had to get to them. They would have left by now, but she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t let Jonas or one of his sheep find her. If Jonas was still alive. The thought that she might have killed him made her shudder. It had been one thing to wish him dead, to think she could kill him to save her daughter, but to actually know that she might have killed the man...
She crawled over to a pine tree and used the trunk to get to her feet. As she started to take a step, she saw a figure suddenly appear out of the blackness of the trees.
Lola felt a sob rise in her throat. She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Colt. He seemed just as overwhelmed with joy to see her. She’d thought he would have left—as per their plan. But he couldn’t leave her.
Another sob rose as he ran to her, grabbed her and pulled her to him, holding her so tightly she could hardly breath. “Lola,” he kept saying against her hair. “Lola.”
She couldn’t speak. Her throat had closed as she fought to hold back the tears of relief. As he let go, she stepped down on her bad ankle and let out a cry of pain.
“You’re hurt. What is it?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
“My ankle. I’m not sure I can walk.”
He swung her up in his arms and carried her through the trees to the truck. She hadn’t realized how close she was to where they’d parked it earlier.
She looked around, suddenly scared. “Grace? Where’s Grace?”
He unlocked the passenger side of the pickup, opened the door and picked up a bundle wrapped in his coat. She heard a sound come from within the bundle as Colt helped her into the pickup and put Grace into her arms. The tears came now, a floodgate opening. No longer could she hold back.
Tears streaming down her face, she turned back the edge of Colt’s coat, which was wrapped around the infant. “Grace,” she said as Colt slid behind the wheel, started the truck and headed off the mountain.
Lola held her baby, watching her daughter’s sweet face in the faint light as Grace fell back asleep. She thought she could stare into that face forever. For so long she’d feared she’d never see her again, never hold her. She wiped at her tears and looked over at Colt. He smiled and she could see the emotion in his face.
“Have you met your daughter?” she asked.
“I have,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “We got acquainted while we were waiting for you, until I couldn’t wait any longer and had to come looking for you.”
“I’m so thankful you did.”
“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice breaking.
Tears filled her eyes again as she looked from him to their daughter. She pulled Grace close as they left the mountain and headed toward the ranch. Home.
Chapter Twelve
Jonas came to, lying on his back in a pool of his own blood. His hand went to the side of his head and came away sticky. He stared for a few moments at his fingers, the tips bright red, before he tried to sit up.
His head swam, forcing him to remain where he was. He couldn’t remember what had happened. Had he fallen? He’d been meaning to have one of the brothers fix that rug to keep the corner from turning up.
But from where he lay, he could see that the rug wasn’t to blame. Not twelve inches from him sat a rock the size of a cantaloupe. A dark stain covered one side of it. Nearby was a baby blanket and another rock of similar size.
Memory flooded him along with a cold, deadly rage. The pain in his skull was nothing compared to the open wound of Lola’s betrayal. His heart felt as if it had been ripped out of his chest.
He thought of those moments when she’d been holding what he thought was her infant in her arms. They’d been talking and she had made it sound as if she was weakening toward him. His heart had soared with hope that she was finally coming around. He had so much to offer her. Had she finally realized that she’d be a fool to turn him down?
He’d been so happy for those moments when he’d thought things were going to work out with her and even the baby. That other man’s baby, but a baby Jonas was willing to raise as his own as long as Lola became his wife and submitted to him.
The shock when she’d pulled the rock from the baby blankets was still painfully fresh. It had taken him a moment, his arms outstretched as he’d reached to take her and the infant to his bosom. The shock, the disappointment, the disbelief had slowed his movements, letting the rock get past his defenses and stun him just long enough that she was able to pull out the second rock and hit him much harder.
/>
He closed his eyes now. He was in so much pain, but a thought wriggled its way through. His eyelids flew open. His mind felt perfectly clear, making him aware of the quiet. He recalled the alert alarm going off. When Lola had come to him with the baby... Yes, he recalled. He’d sounded the all clear signal.
Why hadn’t there been another alert? He had to assume that Lola had gotten away. Gotten away with the baby. If she’d been caught, she would have been brought to him by now. And if Sister Rebecca had checked the crib and found the baby missing...
For a moment, he thought the alarm must have sounded while he’d been unconscious. But if that was true, then Brother Zack would have come to check on him and found him lying here, bleeding to death.
Two things suddenly became crystal clear. Even through the excruciating pain, he saw now that Lola couldn’t have acted alone. She would have had help to get the baby off the compound. And her showing up at his door with what he thought was the baby was only a diversion.
He let out a bitter laugh. As persuasive as he’d been, it was just as he’d feared. He hadn’t convinced Colt McCloud that the woman was unbalanced, that their baby boy had died, that he should leave Lola while he could.
Apparently, she’d been more convincing than he had been. He grimaced at the thought. Admittedly, he had to give her credit—her plan had worked. Or had it been Colt McCloud’s plan? He closed his eyes, cursing the man to hell. Colt was a dead man.
But so was he, he realized, if he didn’t get help. He was still bleeding and even more light-headed. He felt around for his cell phone to activate the alarm.
He had to turn his head to find it. The pain was so intense that he almost passed out. He closed his hand around the phone and, leaving bloody fingerprints, hit the button to activate the alarm.
His hand holding the phone dropped to his side as the air filled with the shrill cry of the alert. Any moment Brother Zack would come bursting through the door. He could always depend on Zack.
Unlike someone else, he thought, remembering his second realization. If he was right, Colt had taken the baby while Lola had pretended to be acting alone. The alarm had sounded and she had known that she couldn’t get away. So she’d come up to Jonas’s cabin with the rocks in the baby blankets.
But wouldn’t someone have checked the baby’s crib? And then wouldn’t Sister Rebecca, who was responsible for the infant, have realized the baby was gone and summoned help? Pulled the alarm again?
As Brother Zack burst through the front door and rushed to him, Jonas felt the steel blade of betrayal cut even deeper. One of his flock had betrayed him.
Chapter Thirteen
Colt woke to find Lola and the baby sleeping peacefully next to him. He felt his heart do a bump in his chest. The sight filled him with a sense of joy. A sense that all was right in the world.
Last night on the way down the mountain he’d felt like they were a family. It was a strange feeling for a man who’d been so independent for so long. They’d been exhausted, Lola barely able to walk on her ankle. He’d gotten them both inside the house and safe as quickly as he could.
With Grace sleeping in the middle of his big bed, he’d taken a look at Lola’s ankle. Not broken, but definitely sprained badly. He’d wrapped it, both of them simply looking at each other and smiling. They’d done it. They’d gotten Grace back.
He had questions, but they could wait. Or maybe he never had to know what had happened back at the compound. He told himself it was over. They had Grace. That was all the proof they needed against Jonas should he try to take either the baby or Lola back.
They’d gone to bed, Grace curled between them, and fallen asleep instantly.
At the sound of a vehicle, Colt wondered who would be coming by so early in the morning as he slipped out of bed and quickly dressed.
Someone was knocking at his front door by the time he reached it. He peered out, worried for a moment that he’d find Jonas Emanuel standing on his front step.
“Sheriff,” Colt said as he opened the door.
“A moment of your time,” Flint said.
Colt stepped back to let the sheriff enter the house. Flint glanced around, clearly looking for something.
He’d been wondering how Jonas was going to handle this. He’d thought Jonas wouldn’t call in the sheriff about the events of last night. He still didn’t think he would. But this was definitely not a social call.
“What can I help you with, Sheriff?”
Flint turned to give him his full attention. “Jonas reported a break-in at the SLS compound last night. I was wondering if you knew anything about that.”
“Was anything taken?”
Flint smiled. “Apparently not. But Jonas was injured when he tried to apprehend one of the intruders.”
That was news. Colt thought of Lola just down the hall still in bed with Grace. Last night when he was wrapping her ankle, he’d seen what looked like blood on her sleeve. But he hadn’t want to ask what she’d had to go through to get away.
“He see who did it?” Colt asked.
“Apparently not,” Flint said again.
Just then the sound of a baby crying could be heard down the hall toward the bedroom.
Flint froze.
“So nothing was taken,” Colt said. “Jonas’s injuries...”
“Aren’t life-threatening at this point,” Flint said as Lola limped down the hall from the bedroom, the baby in her arms.
Lola spotted the sheriff and stopped, her gaze flying to Colt. She looked worried until Colt said, “You remember Lola. And this is our daughter, Grace.”
Colt moved to her to take the baby. He stepped to the sheriff, turning back the blanket his daughter was nestled in.
Every time he saw her sweet face his heart swelled to overflowing. She was so precious. Having never changed a diaper in his life, he’d learned quickly last night.
Now he lifted the cotton gown she’d been wearing when Lola had taken her from the crib last night at SLS to expose the tiny heart-shaped birthmark.
“Our baby girl,” Colt said. “We’ll be going to the doctor later today to have her checked over—and a DNA test done, in case you were wondering.”
Flint nodded solemnly, and Colt handed Grace back to Lola. As she limped into the kitchen with the baby, the sheriff said, “I’m not going to ask, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“That little girl belongs with her mother.”
The sheriff met his gaze. “And her father?”
“I’m her father.”
Flint sighed. “I was at the hospital this morning taking Jonas’s statement. He isn’t filing assault charges because he says he doesn’t know who attacked him. I see Lola is limping.”
Colt said nothing.
“You sure this is over?” the sheriff asked.
“It is as far as I’m concerned.”
Flint nodded. “Not sure Jonas feels that way. Got the impression he’s a man who is used to getting what he wants.”
Colt couldn’t have agreed more. “He can’t have Lola and Grace, but I don’t want any trouble.”
The sheriff shook his head at that. “I’m afraid it won’t be your choice.”
He knew a warning when he heard one. Not that he had to be told that Jonas was dangerous. “He’s brainwashed those people, taken their money and keeps them up on that mountain like prisoners.”
Flint nodded. “A choice each of them made.”
“Except for the children up there.”
“You think I like any of what I saw on that mountain?” Flint swore. “But you also know there is nothing I can do about it. That’s private property up there. Jonas has every right to keep trespassers off. Not to mention it is church property, holy ground under the law.”
“I have no intention of going up there.”
“I wish
I thought it was that simple.” The sheriff had taken off his Stetson when he’d come into the house, and now he settled his hat back on his head. Turning, he started for the door. “You know my number,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll come as quickly as I can. But I fear even that could be too late.”
“Thanks for stopping by, Sheriff.”
At the door, Flint turned to look back at him. Lola had come out of the kitchen carrying the baby. She was smiling down at Grace, cooing softly.
Flint’s expression softened and Colt remembered that Darby had mentioned the sheriff’s wife was pregnant. “Have a good day,” Flint said, and left.
* * *
JONAS LISTENED TO the doctor tell him how lucky he was. He had a monster headache and hated being flat on his back in the hospital when he had things that needed to be done—and quickly.
“You lost a lot of blood,” the doctor was saying. “If your...friend hadn’t gotten you here when he did...”
“Yes, it is fortunate that Brother Zack found me when he did,” Jonas said. He didn’t need the doctor telling him how lucky he was. He was very aware. But a man made his own luck. He’d learned that when he’d left home to find his own way in life.
Not that he discounted what nature had given him—a handsome, honest-looking face, mesmerizing blue eyes and snake-oil-salesman charm. But he was the one who’d taken those gifts and used them to the best of his ability. Not that they always worked. Lola, a case in point. They’d worked enough, though, that he was a very rich man and, until recently, he would have said he had very loyal followers who saw to his every need. What more could a man ask for?
“You’re going to have a headache for a while, but fortunately, you suffered only a minor concussion. A fall like that could have killed a man half your age. Like I said, lucky.”
“Lucky,” Jonas repeated. “Yes, Doctor, I was. So when can I be released?”
“Your laceration is healing quite nicely, but that bandage needs to be changed regularly so I’d prefer you stay in the hospital at least another day, maybe longer.”