by Lynn Shannon
“You—” She pulled back to look him in the face. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you’re not the only one who’s worried about affecting our friendship.”
“And now, what? You aren’t worried.”
“I am.”
His hand brushed a strand of hair off her face. A trail of heat followed his touch.
“But seeing you and Maddy in danger…Tara, it changes things for me. I’m done putting off things that need to be said. This isn’t a one-off. Or a crush. I’m crazy about you. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”
Her heart stuttered and then jumped into overdrive. The image of her father, carrying his suitcase out the door, flashed in her mind. She swallowed hard. “I come as a package deal.”
“You think I don’t know that? I don’t just want you, Tara. I want Maddy too. She slipped in when I wasn’t looking and stole my heart.”
“It’s risky. It could all fall apart.”
It had for her mother. They’d had a family, a child. Her father had still left. Love didn’t always bind people together and not every couple weathered the storm.
Grady tilted her chin up until she was looking him in the eyes. “I’m willing to accept the risk. Tara, you’re worth it. The real question is: are you willing to do the same?”
Twelve
Everyone always underestimated him.
He dropped the shovel. Rain spattered him, running down the brim of his hat and into his shirt collar. His breath came in shallow spurts.
He shoved on the fence post. Dark thoughts, of murder and pain, clouded his mind. Vikki’s face flashed in front of his eyes—her mouth open in shock, blood spreading across her T-shirt. An incredible rush of power fueled his straining muscles. He shoved harder.
The wood gave way. It collapsed into the mud, yanking the barbed wire down with it.
He smiled. Soon he would have everything he wanted.
Maddy.
Tara dead.
This time, failure wasn’t an option.
It was all or nothing.
Thirteen
When Tara woke up on Saturday morning, bright sunlight streamed in through the curtains. She rose and checked on Maddy. The little girl was sleeping on her back, the blanket kicked off and in a heap at the bottom of her crib. Tara touched her forehead. No fever but the poor thing had to be exhausted. She covered her with the blanket and left her to rest.
Downstairs, through the french doors off the living room, she caught sight of Deeann. Grady’s mother was on the wraparound porch, her scrapbook open on the table. More wedding stuff, no doubt.
“Good morning,” Deeann greeted her with a smile. Her sable-brown hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, and she wore a beautiful sweater to ward off the chill in the air. In the distance, Raymond was repairing a section of the barn.
“Morning. Actually, it’s nearly afternoon. I don’t think I’ve slept this late in years.”
“Well, it’s no wonder with the schedule you’ve been keeping and the stress you’ve been under. Working with Grady during the day, up half the night with the baby. How is Maddy?”
Tara settled into one of the cushion-covered chairs. The cell phone in her sweater’s pocket stabbed her in the ribs. She adjusted it within the zippered pouch to a more comfortable position.
“Still sleeping.” She set the baby monitor on the table. “I think the tooth finally broke through so she should be feeling better today after some good rest.”
Deeann poured a cup of coffee from a carafe on the table and handed it to Tara. “You just missed Grady. He left about an hour ago.”
“I know. He messaged me.”
The warrant to search Dan’s home had come through. Grady and Luke were overseeing it. Tara wasn’t sure how to feel. Uncovering evidence would mean Dan was the kidnapper. It would provide answers and, once they found him, eliminate the threat. At the same time, he was Maddy’s uncle. Family. As silly as it might sound, Tara wanted him to be innocent.
Deeann suddenly jumped up. “What’s going on?”
Across the yard, Raymond was running in their direction. Tara rose.
“The storm knocked out the back fence.” His words came in a rush. “The cows are loose and so are some of the horses. Where’s Grady?”
“He’s gone.” Tara didn’t hesitate. “Go. We’ll lock the doors and set the alarm. We’ll be fine.”
The cattle were the same as cash. The horses even more valuable. They would need every hand possible to round them up before they were hurt. Raymond hesitated but then nodded. “Do it. I’ll wait.”
The women went inside and Tara punched in the code. The alarm panel glowed green. Raymond took off toward the barn and his horse.
“I hope they’re able to get them all,” Tara said.
“Me too.” Deeann clutched the scrapbook to her chest. “How about some food before the baby wakes up and we’re running after her? I’d love your opinion on some of the wedding options, too.”
A distraction, one her racing heart could use. “Sure.”
Thirty minutes later, Tara turned the last page in the scrapbook. “I don’t think there’s a bad choice in here. You have lovely taste.”
“Thank you, dear. Just make sure you remember that when the time comes to plan your wedding.” Deeann’s lips twitched and she wagged her finger. “You’re getting the same treatment for your own big day.”
The sentiment caused Tara’s breakfast to harden in her stomach. She glanced at the book of wedding ideas. “Sorry to disappoint but I’m not sure marriage is in the cards for me.”
“Why not?”
“It didn’t work out so well for my parents.”
Grady’s words from their conversation last night echoed in her mind. She bit her lip. “Love requires a leap of faith, and I don’t know if I have it in me.”
Deeann reached out and grabbed her hand. “Of course you do. Look at Maddy. Choosing to become her mother on your own took a huge leap of faith.”
“Not really. Vikki named me and Maddy needed someone. It was the right thing to do.”
“But you could have refused. You didn’t. How did you know which decision to make?”
She let out a breath. “I let my heart guide me.”
“So you did. You’ve faced difficult challenges since taking on the responsibility, but you never gave up. You dug in your heels. Falling in love and getting married, it’s the same.”
“But, Deeann, so many couples don’t make it. Like my mom and dad. How do you know your marriage will?”
“You can mitigate it by picking someone who matches your goals and dreams. Someone who loves you as much as you love them. But, ultimately, there are no guarantees. That’s why it requires a leap of faith. Most things worth having in life do.”
She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I don’t think that helped me.”
“Well, maybe this will. Trust yourself, hon. God will guide you, but you have to listen to your heart and not your fears.” Deeann patted her hand and rose from the chair. “I’d better get started on the laundry. There’s a pile of dirty clothes so big, I could get lost in them.”
She walked out, leaving Tara in the comforting silence of the kitchen. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and played with the wood grain on the table. The scent of coffee lingered. There were dishes to be done and Maddy would wake soon, but Tara didn’t move from her spot.
She was lost and Deeann was right. God could only guide her if she listened. She bowed her head.
Lord, I’ve been spending a lot of our conversations talking about keeping Maddy safe, but there’s something else I’m struggling with.
The words flowed out of her, and when she was done, the answer in her heart was undeniable.
She was in love with Grady.
Logically, she’d known he was steadfast. He’d proven able and willing to keep her and Maddy physically safe from harm. But trusting him with her heart, letti
ng him see every part of her, was terrifying. And yet, what she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge or face was that the same fears she had, he shared. The fear of failing. The risk of losing their friendship. Of messing up things for her and his family. He held back his feelings, not because he wasn’t ready to share them, but because she wasn’t ready to receive them.
Grady thought of her. Every step of the way.
He was nothing like her father. Not even close. When times got hard, he didn’t shy away. He faced it head on. But she realized her issue had never been with Grady.
It had been with herself.
Deep inside, she’d always wondered and worried, when push came to shove and things got hard, would she stick it out like her mother? Or bail like her father? Adopting Maddy—and dealing with the threats—proved she had what it took to ride out the hard times. She wasn’t a quitter. Her father had given up on his family. She fought for hers.
She was her mother’s daughter. Tough. Resilient. Strong. A woman of faith.
She’d let her fears get in the way, but that was coming to a stop right now. The life she desperately wanted was within reach, and Tara was going to grab hold and never let go—
A crash came from the back of the house accompanied by a thump. Her pulse jumped. What was that? Silence followed.
Tara rose from the chair. “Deeann?”
She passed the stairs and went into the back hall. The laundry room was empty and the washing machine lid stood open.
“Deeann? Are you okay?” She entered the master bedroom. A pair of stocking feet stuck out from the other side of the bed. Tara raced over. Her shoe collided with a perfume bottle, sending it sailing across the room.
Deeann lay facedown on the carpet. Her vanity chair was tipped over, the silver tray holding her perfumes next to her. Several bottles were scattered about.
“Deeann!” Tara leaned down and pressed her fingers to the woman’s neck. A pulse. She scanned her but didn’t see any obvious reason for her to be on the floor. Gently, she turned her over. Blood soaked the carpet and a huge gash marred the area around Deeann’s temple.
Tara’s gaze lifted to the vanity. Had she fallen and hit her head on the edge?
She blinked. There was no blood on the corner. There was no blood anywhere other than on Deeann and the carpet.
Her heart galloped as her attention shot to the french doors leading out to the porch. The alarm panel was dark.
Maddy!
Tara bolted up. She grabbed the shotgun from the mantel above the small fireplace in the corner of the bedroom. Popping it open, she checked to make sure there were shells inside. Raymond had taught her how to shoot long ago, a skill she’d never hoped to use, but was now glad she had.
Her feet whispered against the carpet. Keeping the shotgun at the ready, she climbed the stairs. If the kidnapper was in the house, Maddy was his target. She would not let him take her baby.
Blood roared in her ears. The urge to close the gap between her and her daughter was overwhelming, yet Tara slowed her steps. She took a page from Grady’s book and cleared each room as she passed it. Her bedroom was at the end of the hall. If someone was in there, they would have to go through her to get down the stairs.
The bathroom was first. Biting back her fear, she pivoted into it.
Empty.
Sliding sideways, she scooted up next to the other bedroom and looked inside. Also empty. That left only her room.
Holding the shotgun firm against her shoulder, she listened. Nothing. The tick of the grandfather clock was extraordinarily loud. So was her breathing. If someone was back there, he was keeping quiet. Her stomach clenched and sweat dripped down her back.
She crept forward, keeping her finger next to the trigger. The bedroom door was cocked open, exactly as she’d left it. The crib came into view, Maddy’s sleeping form visible through the slats. Tara quickly closed the distance to the doorway. Her breath came out in a whoosh.
The room was empty.
She lowered the shotgun. Her legs trembled. They weren’t out of danger yet. She needed to get Maddy out of the house. She started toward the crib—
The creak of the door behind her registered too late. She whirled. A crack reverberated through her skull. She crashed to the floor, the shotgun falling from her numb fingers. Stars clouded her vision.
Something sharp jabbed her neck.
Everything went black.
“We’ve got him.” Luke’s voice came over the speaker in Grady’s truck. “Hidden in the back of Dan’s closet was a clown costume, complete with a red wig, and the same type of ammunition used to kill Vikki.”
Grady’s vehicle bounced over ruts in the dirt road. “The net is getting tighter. We need to find him.”
“Every lawman in the state is looking for him. I’m also giving his photo to the media and naming him as a person of interest. You get anything from Jason Gonzales?”
“Not yet.” He pulled to a stop in front of a hunting cabin. The area was north of Huntsville and popular during deer season. “I just got here. If he can help us identify Dan, it’ll add to the mounting evidence.”
“Agreed. Good luck. Call me when you’re done.”
The air smelled of pine and wet leaves. The rain from the last two days had left the ground soggy and moist. Mud clung to his boots. Grady knocked on the faded wooden door of the cabin.
No answer.
He knocked again, this time with more force. No sound came from inside. He leaned over and peered through the curtains. The furniture was rustic, the space one big room divided into separate areas. No one appeared to be inside.
Where was Jason? He knew Grady was coming. They’d talked on the phone earlier.
Unsnapping the button on his holster, he kept his hand on the butt of the gun and went around the side of the house.
A growl stopped him in his tracks. A huge shepherd mix stood in his path, teeth bared, the hair standing up on the back of its neck. Grady pointed his weapon at the dog. He didn’t want to shoot him but would if he had to.
“Connor, heel,” a voice commanded from the porch.
The dog turned. A scar cut through the animal’s fur extending down his left side. Connor raced to his owner standing in the shadows.
“Ranger West?”
Grady kept his weapon trained at the ground but still ready. “Yes.”
The man stepped into the light. He wore cargo pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and combat boots. Scars crisscrossed his left cheek, extending down into his collar and outward toward hair the color of midnight.
“Jason Gonzalez.”
He extended a hand, also covered in scars. Grady holstered his weapon and shook it.
“Sorry about the dog. I can’t hear well out of my left ear so he acts as my alert system.”
Connor watched them with laser-like precision from his place on the porch. Grady had the faintest impression if he made one wrong move, the dog would attack.
He kept his hand on the butt of his weapon. “Understandable. I’d like to talk with you about your call into the tip line.”
“I figured as much when Mack said you’d stopped by looking for me.” Jason straightened his posture. “Listen, like I told the officer on the phone, I didn’t realize the significance of what I’d seen until later.”
“What did you see?”
“I was across the street from Burks at the pharmacy. This guy drives up in a truck. An old clunky Ford. That’s what made me notice him. You don’t see many of those trucks around anymore, and it was clear he’d changed out the engine, souped it up to run fast. Anyway, he gets out and he’s wearing all black. Instead of going to the pharmacy, he heads toward the grocery store. As he’s crossing the street, he pulls a black cap out of his pocket and puts it on.”
“Did he cover his face?”
“Are you kidding?” Jason’s mouth twisted. “If he’d covered his face, I would’ve followed him after calling the cops. No, he covered his hair with it. But after I heard the news rep
orts, I figured the two could be connected.”
Smart. “If you saw the man again, would you be able to identify him?”
“Absolutely.”
“We have a suspect, so I’d like you to view a photo array for me.”
“No need.” Jason turned and gestured for Grady to follow him. He opened the back door of the cabin, the dog at his heels, and went inside. He picked up a drawing pad from the table. “I sketched him for you.”
He flipped to one of the pages and set it down. “That’s him.”
Grady stepped closer. His brow furrowed. “Are you sure this is the guy you saw in the parking lot that night?”
“Positive. I’m an artist with a photographic memory. I don’t forget faces.” Jason frowned. “I take it this isn’t your suspect.”
“No, it isn’t.” His jaw tightened. “But I recognize him.”
Fourteen
Maddy was crying.
Tara groaned. Her head was splitting apart. She tried to move her arms but couldn’t. The crying got louder, stabbing at her head and her heart. She pried her eyes open. The light pierced straight into them and she winced. What was wrong with her?
“I said, wake up!”
A slap of something wet slammed into Tara. She sputtered and opened her eyes again. Soaked hair hung in her face. Beyond the strands were a pair of men’s shoes. A bucket hit the wooden floor with a clank. Memories rushed into her mind.
Deeann on the floor. The shotgun. Maddy.
Her heart thundered. She lifted her gaze to the face of her captor. Ken. Her next-door neighbor. Her body shook, as much from the shock and terror as from the icy water dripping down her skin.
Ken bent and picked up Maddy from the dirty floor. The little girl was frantic, twisting, red with the effort of her cries. She reached out her chubby hands in Tara’s direction.
Don’t. The word reverberated in her head like a scream. She tried to get her mouth to work but couldn’t. The room spun. Whatever drug he’d given her hadn’t worn off.