Well, it and the governor, she thought with an inward smile.
“C’n I go see Flash?” Emma asked from where she’d been sitting on the bed with one of the books T.C. had brought from the apartment. A small thing, perhaps, but it was typical of him to think of it.
“It’s kind of late, sweetie,” Jolie said.
“I know. I wanna say g’night.”
“He’d like that,” T.C. said with a glance at Jolie.
“Well, in that case,” Jolie said with a smile at her daughter. “But then it’s time to get ready for bed.”
Emma didn’t protest that but happily slid off the bed and trotted toward the door.
Jolie and T.C. followed, rather leisurely. He hung on to her hand, and just that simple thing warmed her to the core. This felt like they once had, the three of them, like a family, a unit, with a future they would face together.
Emma waited, as T.C. had taught her, until he checked the area for anything that might spook the horse. The moon was beginning to wane, but there was still plenty of the stark light that made the piebald horse seem a part of the night. He nickered a welcome as they got to the fence, which made Emma in turn giggle happily. T.C. lifted her up to the top rail of the fence. Flash stepped up to the girl, who proceeded to pat his nose, and then rub the spot under his jaw that T.C. had shown her.
After a moment T.C. said quietly, “I’m going to the car for a minute. The message light’s flashing.”
She nodded, giving him a smile before she turned back to watching Emma. The girl’s simple delight never failed to fill her heart near to bursting. And now, with T.C. back in their lives, she wasn’t sure she could hold in her happiness. It threatened to bubble over until she was giggling like her little girl. It was a good feeling, a very good feeling.
It must have been a short message, because in moments T.C. was walking back to them. And he was smiling, a very satisfied smile.
“You’re clear,” he said as he reached the fence. “The voice mail was Sheriff Watkins. Seems he got a call from the governor.”
She drew back, her eyes widening. “The governor himself?”
“Yep. Told you he’d remember you.”
She shook her head in wonder. “But he called...himself?”
“Not sure he actually made the call, but he talked to him. Told him he could vouch for exactly where you were when the old man went missing.” T.C. grinned. “And the sheriff said he was about to call Fowler and tell him the same thing. He sounded a bit pleased to be able to drop the governor on my charming brother’s head.”
Jolie couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “What will Fowler do now?”
“Oh, he’ll think of someone else to accuse.” His expression changed to a more thoughtful one. “Although I think his main partner in crime might be a little too preoccupied to help much.”
“Marceline?”
He nodded. “I saw her at dinner, before I realized where my mother was headed.” He glanced at Emma, who was busy now stroking Flash’s mane, then back to Jolie before saying pointedly, “She had straw in her hair.”
She got the connection immediately, that Marceline had been up to...well, what they’d been up to. “Really?”
“I think it’s a hand, Dylan Harlow. A good, decent guy.”
“That sounds...” She let her voice trail off, because nothing she could think of to say was anything less than insulting.
“Yes,” T.C. said, apparently agreeing with what she hadn’t said. “I just hope she doesn’t hurt him too badly.”
Jolie winced inwardly. “Like I hurt you?”
He looked at her. “Or Emma’s father hurt you.”
She hadn’t expected that. Her face must have shown it, because he added softly, “I can’t imagine how it felt to live like that, Jolie. Always expecting to lose everything, because, well, you always did.”
“Except Emma.”
“And you will never lose her,” he promised, his voice solemn. “No matter what happens.”
Jolie was amazed at the slow, burgeoning peace that filled her heart. She had a promise from T. C. Colton, and you could, as her father had been wont to say, take that to the bank.
It seemed appropriate that she think of her father now. Because for the first time since his death she was starting to feel safe again. As if the rough seas might truly be over, and she and her little girl could start to live the kind of lives she’d always wanted. The police would catch the killer of that woman, and she and T.C. could go home and begin to rebuild what had been stolen from them. Just the thought of having him back in her life, solid, unshakable and forever, made her heart soar.
But somewhere in the back of her mind, that hard-earned warning bell was going off. It’s too perfect. Something will go wrong. Something always goes wrong. You’ll lose everything again.
She quashed it. Not now. Not this time.
This time they would win.
Chapter 29
He’d underestimated his mother’s ability to spread gossip quickly, T.C. thought with a sigh. It had been barely a day and a half and even the ranch hands were in conversations that suspiciously stopped when he walked in. Well, except for one of the newer guys, who was bragging about the hot blonde who’d been flirting with him at some trendy honky-tonk last night, and making bets on how long it would take him to get her into bed.
T.C. much preferred his own quiet Saturday, spent teaching Emma to ride and watching the sunset with Jolie. He liked it so much he was going to see that it happened often, and to that end had packed a duffle bag with some items to take back to the refuge. Even sleeping on the floor with them close by was better than his comfortable bed here, alone, and he planned on staying for the duration.
After that...
Shaking off the stab of doubt—not about his own feelings, but Jolie’s—he picked up the bag and headed downstairs. He went to the dining room, where coffee was always at the ready. He poured himself a cup, and stood sipping it while looking out to where Flash was hitched to the deck railing. He’d ridden the big paint back to the house, taking a long way around since he was starting to get restless. The horse was used to working, and T.C. needed to make sure he stayed calm enough for Emma, which would be hard if he was brimming with pent-up energy. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to leave them without any way to contact him, so he’d left his SUV with the ranch-wide system there.
He pondered whether to take a second horse back with him, for Jolie to ride. He could round up a pony for Emma, too, except she was so enamored of Flash he suspected it would be a disappointment for her. He’d had to wait until she was deeply occupied in one of her storybooks to saddle up and head to the ranch house, because Jolie had told him the child wouldn’t want him to take the horse away.
He’d felt a pang as he heard that echo of Jolie’s own fears of losing everything that mattered, and he’d silently repeated his promise to the little girl that she would never have to deal with what her mother had dealt with.
But maybe later on the pony, he thought as he finished his coffee. She wouldn’t be ready to actually ride alone for a while yet anyway.
“Called in your buddy the governor, did you?”
T.C. didn’t even turn to look. “Haven’t talked to him in a month,” he answered honestly, with enough cheer to provoke his brother. Fowler never paid attention to those below the top. T.C. doubted he even knew Mike Cortez’s name.
Fowler walked past him, turned, looked at the duffle bag on the floor at T.C.’s feet. Odd, T.C. thought. He felt armored in a way he never had before, facing his insufferable brother. Strange how that worked, the feeling that nothing could really get to you when you had someone like Jolie backing you up.
“And now you’re literally shacking up with that little gold digger of yours. At least that run-down hovel is suitable for the likes
of her.”
“I suggest you go back to formulating wild theories,” T.C. said, his tone becoming ominous, “unless you want to go to that board meeting of yours looking like you’ve been hit by a train.”
Fowler backed up a step, warily. And rightfully so, T.C. thought. He had twice before put his bloated brother on his ass and left him looking the worse for it. For that matter, so had most of his other siblings. Including, if his guess from that incident years ago was right, Alanna. That thought made him grin inwardly.
“More physical threats?”
“Promises,” T.C. corrected, knowing his reputation for keeping his promises would make his point.
“If you think you can force that woman on this family—”
“This family is already in free fall,” T.C. said. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”
“That will end soon,” Fowler said confidently. “Now that I know who really did it.”
T.C. groaned inwardly. He hadn’t really meant it when he told Fowler to go back to formulating his wild theories. He’d just meant to warn him to lay off Jolie or he’d be dealing with him. Not to mention that he’d be finding out Jolie could and would probably put him on the floor also. “Now who’s the lucky one?”
“The one they should have looked at first,” Fowler declared. “The one Dad turned down when she came begging for money for that ridiculous foster care home she wanted to build. Here, on Colton Valley Ranch!” The indignation fairly crackled in his voice. “Besides, everybody knows she’s not a real Colton anyway.”
T.C. stared at his brother incredulously. “Piper? You’re seriously accusing Piper?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I heard her and our father arguing about it not a month before he vanished. He told her he didn’t want rug rats running around the place, and he certainly didn’t want ones who would likely be thieves or worse. And that made her very, very angry.”
“It makes me very angry,” T.C. snapped. He thought of Piper, and how she could well have ended up in the same system that had chewed Jolie up so badly. And Jolie herself, and how hard she’d had to work to stay a straight, decent human being in the face of a by-nature impersonal structure. “And if you start this ball rolling,” he warned Fowler, “you’ll regret it.”
For an instant T.C. thought he saw something akin to desperation flash in his brother’s eyes.
“It’s already rolling. I told the sheriff when he called.”
T.C. could only imagine how Troy Watkins had taken that. But that look he’d seen made him frown slightly. And then, moved by something he didn’t quite understand, he asked something he’d never asked before. “Why don’t you just marry Tiffany? It’s obvious you care about her.”
Fowler frowned, clearly puzzled by the apparent non sequitur. “What’s that got to do with this?”
“You think we don’t all know this shotgunning of yours is really about protecting her?”
For once T.C.’s brother had no snarky comeback. He simply stared, as if he really believed no one had realized the truth behind this particular set of machinations.
T.C. gave up, turned on his heel and headed off to track down his little sister and warn her she was the next in the crosshairs. The idea of gentle, kind Piper being a suspect at all was absurd; the thought that she’d done it, beyond ridiculous. They’d get her through this, he thought. And at least the heat was off Jolie.
Now if they would just find the killer of that poor woman, he could finally relax. And he and Jolie and Emma could begin again, building the new life they should have had four years ago. He knew she was still wary, and they had a lot to work out. Things had changed. So had she, and he had, too.
But what hadn’t changed was the core of who and what they were together. And that was as right as it had ever been. He just had to convince her of that. He understood her doubts—after the life she’d had, she couldn’t help not trusting anything good to last—but he would convince her.
No matter what it took.
He couldn’t find Piper, so he texted her a warning message. He headed back to where Flash was standing, docilely now that he’d had a good run. He slung his bag over the saddle horn by the loop on one end. It was awkward, but it would do for the trip back to the refuge. Flash was used to much stranger things; after he’d carried injured calves, a soaking wet, squirmy dog and the carcass of the biggest rattlesnake ever found in the entire county, an inanimate duffel bag was nothing.
He was about a mile out when his phone activated with the buzzer indicating a signal from the ranch system. Piper must have gotten his text, he thought as he slowed Flash and pulled the phone out.
It wasn’t Piper. It was a signal from his SUV.
He hit the icon instantly. “Jolie? I’m almost there—”
“Hurry.” The sound of her voice was like a blow to his gut. She sounded terrified.”
“What is it?”
“Emma’s gone.”
Chapter 30
T.C.’s urgency transmitted to Flash, and the big horse responded with reckless speed. A good quarter horse could cover a half mile in less than forty-five seconds. Flash was one of the best. T.C. slowed only to answer when the phone signaled again.
“There’s a gold car heading west. I’m trying to catch up.”
“I see the dust. Still no Emma?”
“No. God, I think she took her!”
He didn’t have to ask who. Emma might only have minutes before the killer thought she was far enough away to simply kill the child—the only witness—and dump her body.
T.C. flicked a swift glance at the second cloud of dust rising, calculated. He was closer. And he had Flash, who could take shortcuts the big SUV would never make.
He leaned over and urged the big horse on. “I need it all, boy,” he told him. “Our little girl needs us as fast as you can get there.”
Again the big horse responded. He stretched out, his powerful hindquarters delivering every ounce of speed. They topped the rise, and T.C. took in what he saw with swift calculation. The gold car, almost blending into the surroundings, was nearly to the turn the dusty track made to head to the main road. Behind it—too far—was his own SUV. It bucked as Jolie tried to keep it on the track at speed. But she wouldn’t make it. Not before the car reached the road and could pick up speed.
But he could.
Possibilities slammed through his mind. Too many involved the gold car crashing and Emma possibly getting hurt, or worse.
Use what you have...
What he had was a knowledge of the terrain and the best cow horse in the state, still driving hard under him. T.C. made his decision in a split second. They had to beat the car to the turn. Flash seemed to realize the car was the goal, and poured it on even more. T.C. knew he was relying on equine instinct, but it was all he had. All Emma had. He had to trust that Jolie could take care of herself. Knew she’d want him to focus on rescuing Emma. He pushed everything else out of his mind.
He could see her now. Through the back window. Saw her tangled blond hair. She was in the backseat. Crammed into the farthest corner from the driver. And then she looked around, rather wildly.
And spotted them.
Her small, frightened face changed in an instant. Joy filled it. T.C. thought he’d never felt like more of a man than in that split second of time.
He tightened the right rein the tiniest bit. Flash responded instantly, shifting his track the perfect fraction. They pulled up alongside the car. For a horse capable of bursts of forty-five miles an hour, keeping up with a car barely doing fifteen on a dirt trail was nothing. And this was where T.C. had to hope Flash understood that, as with cattle, sometimes staying even with them was as important as catching up with them in the first place.
And that Emma understood what he needed her to do. The driver hadn’t even looked back yet,
and had all the windows closed against the dust. For once he was thankful there hadn’t been enough rain to tamp that down yet. He made a gesture at the back window, praying silently that while the woman had no doubt locked the doors, she hadn’t thought or didn’t have the capacity to lock the windows in the up position.
It took the child a moment, but she was as smart as her mother, and the window began to slide down. T.C. knew the killer would realize almost immediately and do...something. He had his guess, and did what he could to signal the horse to be ready. He was counting on Flash’s incredible instincts and ability to react to unexpected moves to save all three of them.
The window vanished down into the door. He leaned down, reaching for Emma. She took his hand unhesitatingly. The driver yelled. And hit the gas.
Simultaneously he dug his heels into the paint’s ribs and pulled Emma. Hard and fast. The big horse stayed even with the accelerating car. Gave him the two seconds he needed. And then Emma was clear. He had her in his arms. He shifted his weight back in the saddle, gave a slight tug back on the reins and Flash slowed.
“That’s it, boy,” he said. “You did it.” Emma was clinging to him. “And so did you, sweetheart.”
Those huge eyes so like her mother’s were looking up at him, and he sensed that she wasn’t sure how she should feel.
“You were as good as any rodeo trick rider,” he said with a grin.
Emma giggled, tipping over into happiness, to T.C.’s relief.
“And Flash,” she said.
“Yes, him, too,” he agreed, giving the horse’s neck a good, solid pat. Heedless of the horse’s sweatiness, Emma leaned down and gave him a huge hug, cooing happily. Only then did T.C. look around, figuring the gold car would have made it to the road and be long gone by now.
Except it hadn’t.
They’d rounded the turn now. His SUV was stopped across the dirt track.
The gold car was nose down in the gully beside the rough track. Jolie had maneuvered the SUV so that the only escape was a path that led right into it. The killer obviously hadn’t realized until too late that her city car wouldn’t make it.
Colton Family Rescue Page 20