by Rita Herron
Kaylie fought panic as she realized the car was sinking into the water.
And they were trapped.
Survival instincts battled with cold terror. There had to be a way out.
Didn’t cars have a latch in the trunk so you could open the trunk from the inside?
“CeCe, honey, Mommy needs to see if I can find a way to open the trunk.”
CeCe sniffled but nodded against her. Kaylie kissed her daughter’s hair, then released her and frantically ran her hands over the floor, the sides, then the top of the inside of the trunk.
There had to be a latch . . . if there wasn’t, she and CeCe were going to drown and no one would ever find them.
Mitch spotted a clearing a half mile from the spot where Buckham was pushing the car into the river and landed the chopper. He called Micah to alert him that he’d spotted Buckham and to send backup.
Terrified Kaylie and CeCe were in that trunk, he grabbed his rifle for backup, his other hand securing his Sig Sauer as he jumped from the helicopter. He ran through the brush, closing the distance between him and the sedan, determined to catch Buckham.
He slowed as he neared the Mercedes, his breath puffing out as he snuck up on the vehicle. Buckham was just climbing in the passenger side when Mitch stepped from the foliage.
He raised the rifle. “It’s over, Buckham. You’re under arrest.”
Buckham froze at the door, then leveled him with a challenging look. “I’m not going back to prison.”
“Then you’ll go to your grave,” Mitch said. “If Kaylie and her little girl are in that car, that’d be my choice anyway.”
Buckham lifted a hand as if he was going to surrender, but a gun glinted in the dim light, and Mitch fired. The bullet hit Buckham between the eyes, and he dropped like a sack of flour.
The driver of the Mercedes gunned the engine, but Mitch fired at the driver’s side. The bullet pinged off the car door, and the driver sped up, but Mitch rushed forward and fired again. This time the bullet shattered the driver’s window.
Mitch fired another shot at the driver. The Mercedes plunged into a tree with a loud crash. Mitch kept his gun aimed as he slowly approached the vehicle. When he was close enough to open the driver’s door, he aimed the gun inside the window. A heavyset man was slumped at the wheel, blood oozing from his neck where Mitch had shot him.
Mitch used two fingers to check the man’s pulse.
He was dead.
Mitch would find out who the man was later. Right now he had to save Kaylie and CeCe.
Deja vu of being shot and careening into the river where his wife and son died hit him. It was happening again.
Jesus. He couldn’t let Kaylie and CeCe drown.
But the sedan was almost immersed in the water. He dropped his rifle and Sig by the edge of the river, kicked off his boots, tossed his hat to the ground, then plunged into the water.
He dove beneath the surface, swam to the car and searched for the lever to open the trunk. The water ebbed around him, slowly seeping into the car. He jerked and yanked at the trunk, but it wouldn’t budge.
Adrenaline surged through him, and he swam to the driver’s side. The door was ajar, so he jerked at it until he opened enough to reach inside.
He fumbled around the dash in search of an automatic trunk opener and found one on the left-hand side of the seat. He pushed at it until it lifted, then he swam to the back of the sedan again.
His lungs were straining for air, his muscles pushed to the limit as he pried the top of the trunk open.
Kaylie’s eyes widened in relief, then panic as water rushed inside. He grabbed her and CeCe and pulled them from the inside.
Kaylie pushed CeCe into his arms, and he nodded in understanding, then cradled her to him and swam to the surface. Kaylie was right behind him, and they both plunged above water, gasping for air at the same time.
CeCe gasped, sputtering water and coughing as he hauled her to the embankment and climbed out. He lay her gently on the ground, then ran back and helped Kaylie.
She staggered, water dripping from her clothes and hair, then collapsed onto the ground beside CeCe.
“Mommy!” CeCe cried.
“I’m here, baby.” Kaylie dragged her daughter into her arms and soothed her.
Mitch called for an ambulance, then cradled both of them next to him, trying to warm them by rubbing their arms and hands, while they waited for the medics.
Kaylie shivered, grateful that she and CeCe were alive as she burrowed against Mitch.
“It’s over,” he whispered. “Buckham is dead, and so is the man who helped him.”
“It was Joe’s fault,” Kaylie said, anger mounting inside her. “He got greedy and blackmailed one of his clients. That’s the reason Buckham shot him.”
“He confessed?”
She nodded. “Apparently Joe hid money in a safety deposit box, and Buckham and the man he worked for wanted it back.”
CeCe gulped on a sob. “I’m sorry, Mommy. Daddy told me not to tell.”
Kaylie hugged her. “He told you not to tell me what?”
“About the money,” CeCe said tearfully. “I saw him put it in his gym bag, but he said it was our secret.”
How dare Joe use her daughter like that.
She wished with all her might that he was alive so she could vent her rage at him.
“It’s not your fault,” Mitch said softly to CeCe. “Sweetpea, the bad man can’t hurt you or your mommy ever again.”
Then they could go home, Kaylie realized, as the ambulance siren wailed and screeched to a stop in the clearing near the cars.
Except the thought of leaving Mitch made her chest constrict.
“Thank you, Mitch,” she said softly.
He nodded, but his face looked grim. Was he thinking the same thing she was—that now Buckham was caught it was time for her and CeCe to leave the ranch so he could sell it and move on with his life?
The next few hours were exhausting. Kaylie didn’t want to go to the hospital, but Mitch insisted she and CeCe be examined by the doctor. The threat of hypothermia along with almost drowning didn’t sit well in his gut.
Micah handled notifying the medical examiner and local sheriff, and while the ambulance transported Kaylie and CeCe to the hospital for a check-up, he tried to tie up the details of the case.
They identified the dead man in the Mercedes as Lester Hubanks, a well-known financial entrepreneur who was being investigated for money laundering. Mitch’s fellow Ranger, Sgt. Alex Townsend found the money Buckham had wanted in the safety deposit box Joe Whittaker had arranged.
Mitch explained to the authorities and Buckham’s attorney about Fittinger’s confession. Sheriff Turner had the Family Man killer in custody. Apparently, Buckham had used the serial killer’s MO to throw off the police when he murdered Whittaker.
Coupled with the fact that Buckham had held Kaylie and her daughter at gunpoint and tried to kill them, Kaylie was cleared of suspicion.
Buckham’s attorney was also charged with aiding and abetting a felon in his prison escape.
Kaylie’s only mistake was trusting the man she’d married.
Just as Sally had trusted him.
He’d let her and Todd down. But at least he’d saved Kaylie and CeCe.
Not that they could take his family’s place.
Todd would always live in his memories and his heart.
The next night CeCe could barely sleep she was so excited. All day her mommy and Mr. Mitch had hugged her and assured her the bad men were gone forever.
They read Christmas stories and sung holiday tunes, and Mr. Mitch even drove them to a little church in town where they listened to the preacher man talk about Jesus being born in a manger.
CeCe asked her mommy if she was born in a manger, but her mommy said no, that she w
as born in a hospital.
CeCe didn’t like hospitals. She and her mommy had spent most of the day before there, smelling that awful smell and eating rubbery food and letting the doctor with the white coat poke on her and listen to her breathe in and out with that thing he hung around his neck.
She didn’t know why he needed that thingamabob to hear her breathe. She could hear her own self breathe, and she could hear her mommy breathe without it.
But she was just five, and nobody listened to her except Mr. Mitch who finally brought her home after she’d begged and begged and poked her lips out. Mr. Mitch was a softie.
He didn’t like to see her sad.
She giggled and snuggled into the covers, and tried to think about her daddy up in heaven and Mr. Mitch’s wife up there, too. Todd said he was waiting to tell his daddy goodbye before he crossed through those shiny gates. He said his mama told him the gates were made of pearls and the streets made of gold.
Did they sparkle like the angel pin she bought her mommy?
Her mommy left the radio on, and she listened to the Christmas songs, Jingle Bells and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.
Where was Santa Claus now?
She snuck out of bed and looked out the window, hunting for his reindeer and the sleigh in the sky. But she didn’t see the sleigh, just the moon and lots of stars.
She picked out the shiny star the preacher talked about, the one that the Wise men followed so they could find the baby Jesus, and she closed her eyes and made a wish.
Maybe Santa could follow that star to find her.
She’d left him extra cookies and hoped he got the new picture she’d drawn. She wished she could spell and write out the words she wanted to say, but maybe he got lots of notes from kids and he’d understand her drawing. She wanted that kitty cat, but even more than that, she wanted to stay here and live on the ranch with her mommy and Mr. Mitch and Todd.
Kaylie rose early the next morning, hoping CeCe would be happy with her presents. She had just poured herself a cup of coffee when a soft knock sounded at the back door.
She checked through the screen and saw Mitch. God, she’d missed him in bed last night. But CeCe had needed her after their horrendous day, and she had to start distancing herself from Mitch so it didn’t hurt so much when she left.
Mitch wore a sheepish grin, his eyes hooded beneath that Stetson. “Santa left this outside.”
Kaylie’s heart pitched when she saw the tiny orange ball in his hands.
“Mitch?”
“I know I should have checked with you. Is it all right?”
“It’s perfect,” Kaylie said, then reached up and hugged him. “You’ve given CeCe everything she wanted this year.”
When she pulled back, mixed emotions clouded his eyes, and she realized he was probably thinking about his son. Her heart ached for him.
Mitch moved past her, and they carried the kitten in the den. He built a fire while she put the turkey he’d bought the day before in the oven. Footsteps padded down the steps, then CeCe shrieked as she ran into the room and discovered the kitten.
“Santa brought him, Santa brought him!” CeCe squealed.
Kaylie laughed, her eyes watering as she looked up at Mitch. He was grinning, too, obviously pleased that he’d made CeCe so happy.
CeCe chased the kitten around, laughing and playing. “I’m gonna name her Orange,” CeCe said as the kitten nuzzled her nose.
“Orange,” Kaylie said with a laugh. “That’s a good name.”
“Can we open presents now?” CeCe asked.
Mitch ruffled CeCe’s hair. “You don’t want breakfast first?”
CeCe shook her head. “No, I’m too ’cited.”
“Then let’s open presents,” Mitch agreed.
Kaylie handed CeCe the gifts she’d bought for her, and Mitch sipped coffee while she opened them.
“My cowboy boots and hat!” CeCe tugged on the boots and plopped the hat on her head then danced around. “Don’t I look like a real cowboy now, Mr. Mitch?”
Mitch winked. “The prettiest cowgirl I’ve ever seen.”
CeCe beamed with happiness at the paper dolls and jumped up and down with joy over the doll clothes, blanket, and bed Kaylie had made.
“Now it’s your turn to open, Mommy.” She ran to the tree and returned with two boxes.
One for her and one for Mitch.
CeCe bounced from one foot to the other, her eyes glittering. “Open it, Mommy.”
Her daughter had been wrapping the present before Buckham had kidnapped them. But CeCe told her to hurry, and Kaylie banished the bad memories. They were safe now. Nothing was going to spoil their day.
She ran her finger over the glittering angel as she unwrapped the tissue. “I love it. It’s beautiful, honey.” She hugged CeCe then removed the pin and attached it to her sweater.
CeCe beamed, then handed Mitch a box wrapped in red paper. What in the world was in it? She hadn’t helped CeCe pick out anything for him. They’d simply baked cookies.
Mitch’s gaze met hers as he shook the box. “Hmm. I wonder what’s in here. A tie maybe?”
Like he would wear a tie, Kaylie thought with a smile.
He tore open the paper, then lifted the lid of the shoebox. But his smile faded as he looked up at CeCe.
“Rocks?” Mitch asked in a gravelly voice.
Kaylie frowned, confused by his reaction and the gift. Then she remembered Mitch had taught CeCe how to skim stones the day they’d ridden to the pond.
CeCe rubbed the kitty’s furry head. “Todd picked them out for you, Mr. Mitch. He wanted me to give them to you.”
The color faded from Mitch’s face, and he bolted up and strode outside.
Through the front door, she saw Mitch lean over the porch rail, his shoulders shaking.
Mitch inhaled a pain-filled breath. How in the hell did CeCe know about the rocks?
Sure, he’d taught her to skip rocks that day at the pond, but he’d never mentioned how much Todd loved collecting the stones?
He’d boxed up Todd’s collection and carried it to the cabin with him so there was no way CeCe had seen them.
The door squeaked open, Kaylie’s sweet scent wafting toward him. “Mitch?”
“I’m sorry,” he said in a thick voice. “That was real sweet of CeCe.”
“She thinks you don’t like them,” Kaylie said.
He whirled around anger at the situation mingling with grief. “How could she know?”
“Know what?”
“That my son collected rocks? That it was a special thing we did together?”
Kaylie’s face paled. “I don’t know, Mitch.”
“Does she always do stuff like that?”
“Like what?”
“Talk about . . . the dead like she can talk to them.”
“No.” Kaylie captured his hand in hers. He squeezed it, wanting to cling to her and her daughter. He felt guilty for having them here when his son and wife were dead.
But he didn’t want them to leave either.
They’d filled his house with love, laughter, and happy memories, and given him something to live for.
“I don’t understand, either,” Kaylie said. “Maybe she saw a picture of Todd.”
“There’s no way, I boxed them up and stored them in the cabin.”
Kaylie wet her lips. “Maybe she just senses him since she’s staying in his room.”
Footsteps clattered, and he looked down to see CeCe on the porch, the kitten cradled in her arms. “Todd says he loves you, Mr. Mitch. He’s not mad at you, and he wants you to be happy again.”
Mitch’s breath stalled in his chest.
“He says not to be sad.” CeCe sighed, her voice tentative. “That he’s here with you.”
; A chill slithered down Mitch’s neck yet at the same time, he felt a warmth on his hand. A warmth as if someone had touched him.
When he looked down though, there was nothing there.
Or was there?
Maybe in her childlike innocence, CeCe had connected with his son’s spirit, and she was trying to relay a message. That his son didn’t blame him. That he loved him.
That he’d always live in his heart.
Could he forgive himself?
Mitch glanced across the ranch, then at the For Sale sign dangling in the breeze. Yes, his son was here. He always would be.
There was no way he could sell the ranch and leave him.
They had a beautiful Christmas Day. Kaylie cooked turkey and dressing with all the trimmings, and CeCe played with her kitten and paper dolls and wore her pink boots and cowboy hat all day.
Mitch seemed unusually quiet and left for a time that afternoon to visit his son’s grave. When he returned, he seemed more relaxed, and the three of them shared dinner then rode out to the pond
But the morning after Christmas, Kaylie knew it was time for her and CeCe to leave. Mitch had made no attempt to kiss her again or make love to her. He hadn’t mentioned wanting them to stay either.
He’d remained quiet all evening, almost somber as if he needed them to let him have his house to himself. Obviously, CeCe’s comments about Todd had upset him.
She didn’t understand her daughter either, but obviously, CeCe believed she’d connected with Mitch’s little boy.
She rose early and packed her suitcase, then explained to CeCe that since the bad man was gone, they needed to return to their own house. She wanted to say goodbye to Mitch but was afraid that would be too hard on her daughter, so she left him a note and headed back to the house they’d left months ago.
“I don’t wants to leave Horseshoe and the ranch,” CeCe said with a pout. “Orange don’t wanna go either.”
“I know,” Kaylie said, her chest aching. She wanted to stay, too. To make the ranch their permanent home. To be with Mitch.
But the ranch belonged to him, his son and his memories, and she had no right to intrude. He’d tolerated them because Buckham was trying to kill them, but now she had no reason to stay.