by Rita Herron
Kaylie wished that, too. Unfortunately, wishes didn’t always come true.
Mitch kept his eyes peeled for trouble as they rode across his pasture. It was too chilly to wade in the edge of the creek, but he taught CeCe how to skip rocks at the pond, his heart hammering as he remembered how excited Todd had been when they’d done the same thing.
God, he wished his son was here now.
In spite of the constant ache in his chest, he couldn’t help but smile at the pure pleasure on the little girl’s face.
Her mother’s smile as she relaxed was breathtaking as well.
Dragging his gaze from her, Mitch helped CeCe mount Horseshoe again, and the three of them rode across the pasture toward the woods.
“The ranchland is so beautiful,” Kaylie said as they slowed the horses by a wooded section. “I wonder why the owner is selling.”
Because the ranch held all his dreams and those died when he buried his boy.
Instead of admitting the heartfelt truth, his throat closed with emotions, making it impossible to speak, so he simply shrugged.
“Are we gettin’ a tree now?” CeCe asked, drawing him back to the task at hand.
Mitch slid down from his bay. “Sure. I bet we’ll find the perfect one in the woods.”
Kaylie dismounted while he helped CeCe from the saddle. They left the horses to graze, and Mitch grabbed his handsaw and led the way.
CeCe ran from tree to tree, pointing out the tallest and biggest ones she could find.
“Sweetpea, we’d have to cut a hole in the ceiling for that one,” Mitch said with a wink.
Kaylie walked over to a six-foot pine. “How about this one. The needles should hold the ornaments we made, CeCe.”
CeCe danced around the tree singing Santa Claus Is Coming to Town while Mitch sawed the tree down. He dragged it back to the pond where they’d left the horses, then tied it to his saddlebag while CeCe gathered pinecones to make more decorations.
By the time they rode back, the sun was setting. Kaylie helped him unsaddle and brush the horses while CeCe combed Horseshoe’s mane. Mitch stowed the animals in the barn while Kaylie walked CeCe to the house to start dinner.
By the time he dragged the tree into the den by the fireplace, the scent of fried chicken wafted from the kitchen. His stomach growled, the memory of his grandmother frying chicken in her cast iron pan making him itch to join Kaylie and CeCe.
But he stepped to the kitchen door to say goodnight and leave them to decorate the tree.
CeCe raced over and grabbed his hand. “Come on, Mr. Mitch, Mommy has dinner all ready!”
The child’s exuberance made him wish he could change the fact that her daddy was dead. “You enjoy it. I’ll see you two later.”
“No way.” Kaylie brushed her hands on her jeans and motioned for him to grab a plate. “This is my way of thanking you for the riding lesson and for helping us with the tree.”
Mitch’s gaze met hers, his emotions churning. She looked more rested than she had when she’d arrived, not frightened as she had after the accident, and her cheeks were pink from the cold.
His mouth watered for the food, but also for a taste of her ripe lips.
Good God. He was crazy. He could not keep flirting with danger when the damn woman was mired deep in horse dung with the law.
He had to keep his eyes peeled in case Buckham showed up at the ranch.
If he tried to hurt Kaylie or CeCe, he’d kill the bastard himself.
God dammit, the stupid bitch was staying at a ranch owned by a fucking Texas Ranger.
He couldn’t believe his shitty luck.
Worse, the cowboy obviously had his dick in a knot over her. He’d been following her around all day like a lovesick dog, playing with the kid, cutting down a sappy Christmas tree. And now they were inside eating dinner, all cozy like they were a family when the bitch should be dead.
She’d made everyone think he’d killed those families. Stupid woman. She had no idea what her husband had been up to.
No idea what he’d had going on the side.
In the end, Joe Whittaker had gotten what he deserved.
Even though he’d wrapped his lawyer around his finger and his boss had paid her to clear him of those family murders, she still hadn’t promised he’d be free of the charges against Whittaker.
Not with the man’s wife’s teary testimony.
The very reason Kaylie had to die.
Mitch devoured the home cooked meal, then built a fire in the fireplace to ward off the chill while Kaylie cleaned up the dishes.
CeCe had chattered nonstop during dinner about decorating the Christmas tree, so he dug out the tree stand from the attic along with a string of lights and set it up in front of the window.
“It’s beautiful!” CeCe shouted as the white lights blinked on and off.
Kaylie stood in the doorway, her eyes sparkling with appreciation as if it had been a long time since anyone had done something nice for her.
Now he understood the reason.
“It is gorgeous and it smells so good,” Kaylie said. “I’ve always preferred a real tree.”
“Me, too.” Mitch swallowed back emotions her words stirred. “It needs some decorations.”
“We made some!” CeCe said, bouncing up and down on her little pink sneakers.
Kaylie played a Christmas CD while CeCe led him to a box in the corner holding homemade ornaments crafted from Styrofoam and Christmas cards they’d strung with ribbon. The box reminded him of his grandmother and her crafts.
CeCe carefully removed a snowman ornament and hung it on the tree, singing along with the Christmas music in the background. Mitch folded his arms and watched mother and daughter hang the decorations, his memories of Todd so vivid that he felt as if his son was there.
“We need a star on top,” CeCe said when the box had been emptied and the limbs hung heavy with the ornaments.
“I saw one upstairs when I was moving boxes from the storage room.” Mitch left the room and retrieved the star he’d packed away after Todd’s death. His hand shook as he carried it back down the steps and placed it at the top of the tree.
CeCe squealed with delight. “Now we just need presents!”
Worry flashed on Kaylie’s face, and Mitch grimaced. Obviously, Kaylie hadn’t bought gifts for her daughter.
Dammit. Every kid ought to have something under the tree on Christmas morning.
“What do you want Santa to bring you?” Mitch asked CeCe.
“I told you—an orange kitty,” CeCe exclaimed in a voice that asked how he could possibly forget. “And a new cowboy hat and pink cowboy boots so I can be a cowboy like you.”
Her comment tore at him. He didn’t want to care about Kaylie or her daughter, but it was impossible not to let CeCe’s childhood excitement affect him.
Kaylie rubbed CeCe’s back. “Okay, kiddo, it’s been a busy day, but it’s time for bed now.”
CeCe poked her lips into a pout. “But I wants Mr. Mitch to see the horsie upstairs.”
Mitch frowned, but CeCe latched onto his hand and dragged him toward the stairs. Kaylie followed, reminding her daughter that it was bedtime.
Then CeCe pulled him into the room where she was sleeping.
His son’s room.
Surprise twisted his gut at the sight of the quilt his grandmother had made for him. It now covered Todd’s bed.
All of Todd’s toy animals and ponies were lined up on the floor as if CeCe had been playing rodeo just like Todd used to do.
He had packed those away for a reason.
“Where did you get those?”
“The boy who lives here showed ’em to me,” CeCe said. “They was under the bed.”
“What boy?” Mitch asked, his tone tinged with a harshness that he hadn’t meant to reveal.
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CeCe picked up the horse and made a whinnying sound. “Todd. He said I could play with them.”
What the hell was she talking about? Todd was dead and gone . . .
And he hadn’t told Kaylie or CeCe about him.
“You shouldn’t have gotten them out.” Mitch couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of the room.
Away from this woman and child who’d taken over his house and his life. Away from the memories and pain and the little girl who’d spoken his son’s name as if she knew him.
Kaylie twisted her hands together as Mitch stomped from the room. Why was he angry at CeCe for playing with the toys?
Her daughter burst into tears, then grabbed her rag doll and clutched it to her. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean to make Mr. Mitch mad.”
Kaylie pulled her daughter into her arms. “Shh, it’s all right, sweetie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I thoughts Mr. Mitch would like the ponies. Todd said he gave them to him.”
Kaylie frowned and massaged CeCe’s back. “What?”
“Todd, the little boy that used to live here,” CeCe said matter-of-factly. “He said Mr. Mitch used to play with him and the ponies.”
Kaylie wiped a tear from CeCe’s cheek. If that was true, Mitch had lied. He had known the owner. Unless it was a neighbor’s child. “Tell me about Todd.”
CeCe pointed to the bed. “He used to sleep in my bed. He likes the way I set up the ponies.” She gulped. “Horseshoe was his horsie.”
“When did you see Todd?”
“When we moved in,” CeCe said. “He comes to play with me sometimes.”
She’d thought Todd was an imaginary friend, but CeCe made him sound real. Was a neighbor’s child sneaking into the house somehow? If he was, where did he live? The ranch was acres from anybody else. “Where is he now?”
CeCe bit her lip. “In heaven where Daddy is.”
A cold chill washed over Kaylie. What was her daughter saying? That she’d seen a little boy’s ghost?
Mitch leaned over the wooden railing of the pen, pain rocking through him. He struggled for a breath and fought the tears that had hounded him since he’d buried his son but lost the battle.
How had CeCe known about Todd?
Hell . . . he shouldn’t have yelled at the kid, but her words had cut him to the bone.
He scrubbed at his eyes, angry that he’d lost control and wishing he’d run Kaylie and CeCe off the moment he’d seen them get out of their damn Pathfinder.
He should tell them to leave tonight. That he never wanted to see them again.
Footsteps sounded behind them, and he jerked his head around, suddenly remembering that a killer might be after Kaylie and CeCe.
But Kaylie walked toward him, arms folded, her mouth set in a grim line.
He turned away, hands clenching the wood railing as he dug his boot into the dirt. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him fall apart.
Kaylie walked up beside him and leaned against the rail. “What was that all about? You hurt CeCe’s feelings.”
Anger hardened his insides. These two had no idea what they were doing to him. Making him remember.
Making him feel again.
He wanted the numbness back, the nights of burying his head in a bottle with no little girl or woman looking to him for help.
“I’m sorry, but she had no right to snoop around.”
“She wasn’t snooping,” Kaylie said, her tone defensive like a mother lion protecting her cub. “We found the quilt in the attic, and she found the toys under the bed.”
“They were under the bed for a reason.”
“What reason?” CeCe asked. “Who is she hurting by playing with them?”
“They don’t belong to her,” Mitch growled.
“No, but whoever they did belong to left them behind so they obviously didn’t care enough to take them.”
Anguish squeezed the air from his lungs. “How did you find out about Todd?”
Kaylie cleared her throat. “Tonight is the first I’ve heard of him. I heard her talking in the bedroom before, but I thought she’d invented an imaginary friend.”
“She knew his name.”
“Who is he?” Kaylie asked.
Mitch’s shoulders shook again as he grappled for words.
Kaylie laid a hand on his back to soothe him. “Talk to me, Mitch. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Todd was my son,” Mitch said through clenched teeth.
Kaylie’s breath whispered out. “Your son?”
Mitch angled his face toward her, his heart hammering. “Yes. He died a few months ago. Those were his toys.”
Kaylie’s eyes softened with compassion, although confusion flickered there as well. “I’m sorry, Mitch. What happened to him?”
He didn’t want to divulge the truth and see the disappointment in her eyes. She’d know then that he’d failed his family.
Then again, maybe she needed to know so she’d leave and take her daughter far, far away.
“He and my wife were murdered,” Mitch said, his voice cold with anger.
Kaylie pressed a hand to her fist to stifle a gasp. “Oh, my god, Mitch, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his shoulder, but he tensed, and she quickly removed it.
“I don’t understand. Why were your son’s toys in the ranch house?”
It was time for both of their lies to come out. “Because he lived here, Kaylie.”
Her eyes widened in shock at the sound of her real name.
“He lived here?”
He nodded. “This ranch belongs to me.”
Kaylie’s ears rang as Mitch’s words reverberated in her head. First, he’d called her by her real name.
Meaning he knew who she was?
And second, he owned the Double M.
The truth hit her, making her feel ill inside. He not only owned the ranch, but he’d lied to her.
Why? Because he was working for Larry Buckham?
“You made me think you were just a hired hand,” Kaylie said, instantly backing away. “And how do you know my name?”
“You lied to me, too,” he said. “Now it’s time we both came clean.”
Kaylie shuddered. She’d actually trusted this man when she thought she’d never trust anyone else again.
She eased toward the house. She had to pack her things and get her and CeCe out of here. CeCe.
God.
Her daughter would be devastated. She loved the ranch, the horses. All she’d wanted was a real Christmas.
And now she had to ruin it.
Mitch caught her arm just as she reached the porch. “Going to run again, Kaylie?”
She trembled. “You don’t understand. I have to protect my daughter. And if you’re working for Buckham—”
“I’m not,” Mitch said sharply. “For God’s sake, I’m a Texas Ranger.”
Shock waves rolled through her. “What?”
He gripped her harder when she tried to pull away. “I’m a Texas Ranger. My family was killed because of my job. That’s why I’m selling the ranch.”
Kaylie’s chest constricted. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I first came here?” Humiliation heated her face. “And why did you stand by and let me fix up the house?”
“I let you stay because you looked scared,” he said, his voice cracking. “And because you lied to me. That made me curious. I wanted the truth.”
Betrayal knifed through her. “So, you investigated me?”
“You were on my property under false pretenses. I had to know what I was dealing with.”
She felt like a fool. “Now you do,” she said, jerking away from him. “But don’t worry. You don’t have to deal with us. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. And I’ll put everything in the house back
the way I found it.”
“You don’t have to do that. You were right. The house will show better now.”
“Fine. I’ll go pack then.”
“Where are you going to run now, Kaylie?”
Tears burned the back of her eyelids. “I don’t know, but my daughter and I aren’t your problem.”
“The hell you’re not,” he snapped. “If someone’s after you, I can’t let you go off on your own. It’s too dangerous.”
“You can’t stop me.” She rushed up the porch steps and reached for the doorknob. She had to stand on her own two feet, take her daughter someplace far away from here and Bend Creek where another family had just been murdered.
“What about CeCe?” he asked in a gruff voice. “What about Santa Claus and Christmas and the kitten she wanted?”
Kaylie felt as if she’d been punched in the chest. She gripped the door handle and bowed her head, her lungs straining for air as she struggled to control her frustration.
Mitch’s footsteps echoed behind her. “I know you’re angry with me, but don’t take CeCe away. She deserves to have Santa surprise her with presents. Especially this year when she just lost her father.”
Kaylie wanted to ask him what he knew about her daughter or children in general. But she’d seen the tears in his eyes when he’d confessed that he’d lost a son.
No wonder he’d been so upset when he’d seen CeCe playing with his little boy’s toys. This must be the first Christmas Mitch would have without him.
She couldn’t imagine living without CeCe.
Dammit, he should let them go.
But he’d failed to keep his own family safe, and now this woman and child were in danger, and he couldn’t stand to think of them on their own facing a killer.
“That’s not fair,” Kaylie said in a haunted whisper. “The only reason I stayed here was to give CeCe Christmas.”
Mitch gently turned Kaylie to look at him. “Then don’t go. We’ll give her Christmas, and I’ll protect you both until your husband’s killer is caught.”
Even as he made the promise though, doubts dogged him. He’d promised to take care of Sally and Todd and failed them.