Had there ever been such a perfect day? It didn’t seem possible that everything she’d ever hoped for in her life would all land in her lap so swiftly. Her dream was complete, even down to the sweet dog sleeping on the rug by the door.
Michael dropped a kiss on her neck. “Anything I can do to help?”
She leaned back against him a moment. “Set the table?”
“I’m on it.”
She watched Michael’s face as he grabbed a stack of plates. He was such a thoughtful man who always wanted to do the right thing. Even if she was normally a bad judge of character, she knew she wasn’t wrong about him. She wished she could believe that God cared so much about her that he was responsible for bringing her into her new husband’s loving embrace.
“I can see the wheels turning.What are you thinking?”
“That you’re a wonderful man, and I’m a lucky, lucky woman.”
He grinned and kissed her on his way to grab the dinnerware. “Just make sure you remember that the next time I make you mad.”
Allie stepped through the screen door, followed by her husband, who carried their son, Matthew. “Smells wonderful!”
“I hope you like it.We have apple pie for dessert.”
“My mouth is already watering,” Rick said, setting Matthew down.The toddler quickly rushed to grab Gracie’s leg. She gave him a gingersnap cookie. “Where’s Betsy?”
“Outside with Hope and Jordan,” Rick said. “They’re checking out King’s progress. He’s looking much better.”
She glanced at Michael. “You want to call the girls and have them wash up?”
“Be right back.”
As he started for the door, an earsplitting scream rattled the windows. Gracie recognized her daughter’s cry and sprang for the door Michael was already rushing through.The dog crowded through with her. Caesar whined, then began to bark. He overtook Michael, then turned and barked as if to tell them to follow. Rick and Allie came running behind them. Allie had scooped up the little boy on the way.
Hope stood by the barn door. Betsy was beside her. Screams pealed from Hope’s mouth. Michael reached her first and lifted her in his arms. “Hope, what’s wrong?”
“The man!” she screamed, pointing to the back of the barn. “He took Jordan!”
Michael passed Hope to Gracie and ran with Rick to the back of the barn. Rick yelled for Allie to get the rest of the kids inside. “Go inside with Miss Allie,” she told Hope.
Please, God, let us get Jordan back. Gracie thought she heard a child cry out as she followed the others. Her breath gasped in and out of her mouth as she ran. Her lungs burned with the exertion. Rick and Michael were just ahead. The men rounded the corner of the barn, and she heard Michael shout.
A cry from Jordan followed, and Gracie put on an extra burst of speed. Her chest laboring, she reached the back of the barn and veered behind it in time to see a horse galloping away.
A man sat atop it with her daughter pinned in front of him. Caesar was on the horse’s heels.
A cry escaped Gracie’s lips. “Jordan!”
Jordan glanced back, her eyes dark pools of terror. “Mommy!”
Even though her brain knew it was hopeless, Gracie ran after the horse and rider, which quickly pulled away from her. Sobbing, she fell to her knees with the last of her strength spent. The thunderous pounding of hooves came from behind her.Michael bent over the bare back of Fabio as he chased the kidnapper. She struggled to her feet and made another attempt to follow. Their daughter needed her. She had to catch them.
Michael’s hand came down on the horse’s rump. “Giddup!” he yelled.The horse began to gain on the kidnapper bearing Jordan away. Caesar’s snapping at the horse’s heels was slowing down the swarthy man, who kept glancing back at them.
Gracie stumbled on a rock and fell headlong to the ground. She struggled to her feet. Rick was beside her before she could stand, and he pulled her upright.
“Stay here,” he said. He puckered his lips and a shrill whistle pierced the air. Another horse whinnied and trotted toward him. Gracie had never seen it, but the animal was a beautiful black stallion. He grabbed the horse’s mane and swung onto its back, then set out after Michael and the kidnapper.
Gracie squinted after Michael as he neared the man with their daughter. Michael’s horse was almost level with the other one. His arm went out in a karate chop movement that caught the other man in the throat.The kidnapper fell from the horse, and Michael reached over and scooped Jordan from the saddle.The riderless horse snorted and stopped by a large rocky outcropping.
Michael’s horse turned and started back toward them. All Gracie wanted was to have Jordan in her arms again. Her pain forgotten, she stumbled to meet them. Her chest was on fire, but she had to run.
Rick had nearly reached Michael and Jordan. He glanced back at Gracie. “Look out!” he shouted.
She stopped and realized the kidnapper had regained his feet in the path ahead of her. He pulled a revolver from a holster. She stopped and turned to run.A lasso sailed from Rick’s hand and snaked over the man’s hand. Rick yanked and the gun went flying. The man swore, then turned and ran. Rick pulled the rope back toward him, but before he had it looped and ready to go again, the man had reached his horse and vaulted into the saddle.
Gracie didn’t care about him. Michael was in front of her with Jordan in his arms.The little girl was crying and clinging to her daddy. When she saw Gracie, she lunged for her. “Mommy!” she cried.
The word was the sweetest in the world. Gracie took Jordan in her arms. “You’re safe, sweetheart,” she crooned, rocking the child in her arms. Jordan clung to her, and Gracie hugged her tight. She mustn’t show the child how frightened she was.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, running a soothing hand over her daughter’s hair. Her gaze met Michael’s over Jordan’s head.
Vargas would stop at nothing to punish the Wayne family.
MICHAEL LOCKED EVERY DOOR OF THEIR HOME AFTER THE SHERIFF LEFT with his notes.They’d managed to force down the dried-out remains of supper. Rick and Allie had wanted the family to come home with them again, but Michael assured them they’d be fine.
Finding the man who had tried to snatch Jordan wouldn’t be easy. It was a big country out there.The guy would vanish back into his hole like the rattlesnake he was. Michael marveled at the resiliency of kids. Jordan was giggling with Hope as they played with dolls in the living room. His wife was a different matter, though. Gracie was still white and shaken.
He thrust a cup of coffee into her hands. “Drink.”
She curled her fingers around it as though she were cold, but he didn’t see how she could be. The air-conditioning wasn’t working well, and it had to be nearly eighty in the house.When she sipped the coffee, he saw goose bumps on her arms. Shock maybe. He stepped to the living room and grabbed a red throw. Back in the kitchen, he draped it around her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she whispered. Her blue eyes focused on his face. “That man is despicable, Michael.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But why grab Jordan? What could he possibly gain by taking her?”
“I don’t know. It makes no sense.The only thing I know is we’ve got to get out of here.”
He took her shoulders in his hands and stared into her face. Her blue eyes were wide and fearful. “Honey, there’s no place to run.We have to stand and face this together as a family.”
Her eyes blinking rapidly, she wrenched away from him. “We can’t stay here with the kids in danger, Michael. How can you even think of it?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “If we run, we’ll just be lulled into a false sense of security. The cartel is everywhere, Gracie. Everywhere. Where could we possibly be safe?”
She waved her hands in the air.“North! Maybe Michigan. Or North Dakota.Anyplace where there are people nearby to call for help.”
“Why do we need people when we have God?”
H
er eyes widened, then shuttered.When her nod finally came, it was reluctant. “God lets bad things happen sometimes.”
Her mother again. Everything always went back to that. “I know, honey. He does, and we don’t always understand it. But we can choose how we respond to the challenges that come—with fear or with faith. I choose faith.”
Her lips trembled when she pressed them together. “I want to choose faith, but I don’t deserve it.”
He shook her gently. “Gracie, Gracie, you’ve got to face your father and go on. As long as you have that cloud over your head, you’re never going to let go of fear.You’ve been running for years. From yourself, from God. Isn’t it time you faced your problems and solved them?”
“What would you know about problems?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“You think I don’t have problems?”
“Look at you—the officer everyone looks up to.The rescuer who fights off the attacker wherever he might appear.You don’t know anything about guilt.”
“Calm down.You’ll scare the kids,” he said quietly.
“I bet the metallic taste of fear has never rested on your tongue for a minute.” Her voice rose with every sentence.
Don’t get mad. She’s just scared. “Life hasn’t been perfect for me, Gracie. I wasn’t there for a wife and she divorced me. I haven’t been around to raise Jordan and Evan.You don’t think I feel guilty about that?”
“No, I don’t think you do,” she said. “You’re a man who executes his responsibilities to the letter. Do you ever get upset about anything? Really mad with your passions engaged? I don’t think so.”
His heart rate increased, and he slowed it with a few deep breaths. She was trying to push his buttons, and he couldn’t let her. “I’m trying to help you,” he said, his tone even. “This is about you, not me. Fighting with me helps you get on top of your fear, and I understand that. But it’s not going to protect the kids.”
Her face crumpled. “I’m so scared.” She hugged herself, and the blanket around her shoulders slipped to the floor. “I keep thinking about Cid’s call.” She rubbed her head. “He said my marriage to you ruined things. I keep expecting to see him.”
“Is that why you want to run?”
She put her hands over her face. “A few hours ago everything was perfect. Now it’s slipping out of my hands—again.”
He dropped his hands, picked up the throw and put it around her again, leaving his hands on her shoulders.With her this close, he could see the dusting of freckles across her nose. He struggled to keep his tone even when he wanted to yell at her for not giving him the details of the call sooner.
“I want to help you,” he said, accenting each word. “Exactly what did he say?”
She clutched the throw and stepped away. “He said I needed to come back. That I’d ruined everything. It made no sense, and I. . . I hung up.”
“Did he threaten you?”
She shook her head. “Not overtly, but there was something in his voice that scared me.”
“Did you ask him what he meant?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I didn’t want to hear it. I should have made him tell me what he meant.”
“I should call him,” he said.
“I can handle him.”
He would have pointed out that she wasn’t doing such a hot job of that, but he didn’t want to see the clouds return to her eyes. He could get lost in those blue pools of trust. He nodded toward the fading light outside. “Let’s go. I want to teach you to shoot.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I’ll show you.” He led her to the hall and stopped by the doorway into the living room, where the kids played. “Mommy is going to learn to shoot a gun,” he called to them.
They squealed and came running. “I want to watch,” Hope said. She took her mother’s hand.
Michael smiled when Jordan took the other one.
They reached the yard and Gracie pointed. “There’s that horse Rick rode.The black one I’ve never seen.”
“The stallion roams the area. He belongs to Shannon.” Michael went to his truck and got a pistol. “Now, we’re going to teach you to stand and face danger when it comes.”
23
THE SUN WAS ON ITS RETURN TRIP, RADIATING SHARDS OF GOLD AND RED low on the horizon. If Gracie wasn’t so scared, she’d drink in the surroundings. The air held the crisp edge of coming twilight.
How could such a perfect two days have ended this way—with fear coating her tongue, and every muscle on full alert? She wanted to go back to last night, when she lay in Michael’s arms and listened to the birds sing outside their window.Was there to be no happiness for her anywhere? Would God expect her to pay for her past mistakes the rest of her life?
“Gracie?”
She came out of her trance to see Michael holding out the butt of the gun to her. She wanted to tell Michael it was too dark to see the target, but he’d know it was a lie. It was gloomy, but not dark.
Michael pointed to an aluminum pan attached to a fence post. “There’s your target.You need to learn to protect yourself and the kids when I’m not around.”
“I don’t like guns.” She stared at the gleaming silver and black revolver in his hand. It looked big and dangerous.
“Neither will a kidnapper.You sight down the barrel at him with this thing, and he’ll run.”
“Who are you fooling? No one has ever taken me seriously.” Even Cid treated her like a child.
He winked at her. “It’s because you’re so cute.”
“Cute,” she grumbled. “What woman wants to be called cute? We want to be called beautiful, mesmerizing, addictive. If I were three inches taller, you wouldn’t call me cute.”
Michael chuckled, then curled her fingers around the grip. “Here, take the gun.”
She nearly dropped the heavy thing in the sand. “It will take two hands to hold it.”
He studied her. “You’re right.Wait here a minute.”
She watched him jog across the yard to the house and disappear inside. When he came back, he held a snub-nosed revolver with a wood handle. She eyed it and said nothing.
“This is a Smith & Wesson 327 revolver.”
“Cute,” she said.
“It’s easy to use, and you can conceal it in an ankle holster.” He guided her arms into position. “Support your arm with your left one.”
“You can do it, Mommy,” Hope called from behind her.
All three kids were perched on a fence post far enough away from the action to stay safe. Knowing that her daughter would see her ineptitude made Gracie want to drop the gun and run to the house. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “Don’t make me.”
His fingers tightened on her hand. “You can and you will. Think about our kids.”
He knew where to hit her. She’d do anything for the children. “Okay.”
“Spread your legs apart a little to take a firm stance.” He waited until she complied. “Now sight down the barrel. See that little raised nub there? Aim it at the pie pan.”
Her arms shook as she tried to obey. She got the little nub aimed at the center of the aluminum plate. Her index finger curled around the trigger. “Now what?”
He was behind her with his arms around each side of her as he guided her movements. “Squeeze gently. Don’t just jerk back on the trigger. It will throw off your aim.”
His breath moved gently across her cheek. The strength in his arms and hands radiated to her. She forced herself to concentrate on the job at hand. Her finger tightened on the trigger.More, just a little more.When the report came from the gun, she flinched, and the shot went high. It zinged against the rocky outcropping on the other side of the fence.
Adrenaline pumped through her muscles, and she was instantly in flight mode. For a moment she was back in San Diego as the men poured from the van with their guns popping. She labored to inhale through tight lungs.
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked.
/> “Nothing, just stunned.” She struggled to regain her composure.
“If you hadn’t flinched, you would have been right on the money. Try it again, and this time hold the gun steady.”
His arms tightened around her again, and she wanted to yell for him to get away so she could concentrate. She gritted her teeth and raised the gun into place again.This time when she squeezed the trigger, Michael helped her hold it steady, and the bullet hit the plate. “I did it!”
Michael smiled and nodded but stepped away. “Try it by yourself.”
Okay,maybe she hadn’t done it. Biting her lip, she took her stance and raised the gun. Her hands shook, and she tightened her grip.With the nub on the plate, she squeezed off another shot. It nicked the outer edge of the plate, and she nearly dropped the gun, not quite believing she’d hit it.
The kids clapped their approval. “Yay, Mommy,” Hope called.
“Good shot. Again.”
“Slave driver.” But she smiled and lifted the revolver again. Shooting wasn’t as hard as she’d thought. In five shots, she hit the plate three times.
“Not bad for a first try.We’ll practice every night. For now, I want you to go to Rick’s every day. Let the kids get on the school bus from there and stay until they come home.”
“I’ll be fine here with the kids in school. I don’t need to go to Allie’s.”
His lips formed a firm line. “You’re the one who wanted to move to a city so you could be near people.”
She wanted to protest again but knew it was no use. Once the kids were on the bus tomorrow, she’d come home and clean, then go back over. He wouldn’t be the wiser. She could lock the house and take the gun with her.While she liked Allie, Gracie wasn’t a child who had to be looked after.
“I see the wheels turning,” he said. “It’s for your own good, Gracie.”
“I know,” she said, handing the gun back to him.
“Wait.” He strapped a holster to her ankle, shoved the gun into it, then pulled her jeans back over the revolver. “No one will suspect you’re packing heat.”
“I don’t have a permit,” she protested.
“We’ll get you one as soon as we can.” He unbuckled it. “I wanted to show you how it fit.”
Lonestar Homecoming Page 20