by Lisa Childs
Something he didn’t dare name, something he didn’t dare hope he saw. But he found himself asking, “What?”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him,” she said, “after everything he’s done to you.”
“For you,” he reminded her. “He was trying to protect you.”
She sighed. “You give him more credit than I do. Beau Lemmon has always been most concerned with himself, more so than anyone else.”
He flinched over the pang of guilt striking him. He’d had no idea how damn lucky he was to have the loving, supportive parents he had. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“I had my mom,” Rae said. “And she more than made up for Beau Lemmon.”
But her mom was gone, leaving Rae all alone, but for Connor and her friends. She cared so much for her friends that she’d refused to put them in danger. She hadn’t wanted to come here either, but he’d convinced her it would be safe.
And he pulled the SUV through the gates of the Colton ranch. He’d brought her and Connor home with him.
* * *
Rae hesitated before stepping out of the door he’d opened for her. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked as she glanced over at the big farmhouse. Despite the late hour, lights glowed in several of the windows.
“You’ll be safe here,” Forrest assured her.
“But what about them?” she asked. “I don’t want to put your parents in danger.” Like her parent had put her in danger with his damn gambling debts.
If she believed him, that is.
If he wasn’t actually the killer...
Where her father was concerned, she had no idea what to believe. The only man she wanted to believe now was Forrest. She wanted to trust that he would keep his promise to keep her and Connor safe.
But she didn’t want him putting his own life or the lives of his family at risk to do that.
“My parents are happy to have you both here,” Forrest assured her.
And he must have been telling the truth because the front door opened and the older Coltons stepped onto the porch. His father wore a plaid robe over his pajamas, and his mother wore a pale pink one. Her white hair glowed in the light spilling out of the house.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” his mother called out to them. “We’ve been so concerned.”
About their son—of course. He’d already been hurt once protecting her, and now again.
They must hate her or at least resent her.
But when Forrest led her up the steps to the porch, with the carrier dangling from one of his hands, his mother reached out. She closed her arms around Rae and hugged her. “You poor girl,” she said. “You’ve been through so much.”
Warmth flooded Rae. From her years managing the general store, Rae knew the Coltons. They had always been friendly to her. But this—opening their home to her and Connor—was beyond friendly.
“You’re sure about this?” Rae asked. “Sure that you want us here?” She peered over Mrs. Colton’s shoulder at her husband’s serious face.
Hays had a face that was hard to read, as his expression was carefully guarded. He studied her for several long moments before a smile curved his lips. “Of course we do, Rae. Of course we do.”
The rancher had a reputation for being an honest man, so she wanted to trust him. But she wasn’t sure if they had extended their hospitality for her sake or for their son’s. Mrs. Colton pulled back now and turned toward her son. She touched the side of his face where the blood had dried.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her soft voice cracking with concern.
He smiled at his mother. “Of course I am. Think of all the times you and Dad called me hardheaded.”
“Too many to count,” Hays murmured.
Forrest chuckled.
His mother closed her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she had Rae. Then she pulled back and peered down at the carrier Forrest had in his hand.
“Oh, my...” She sighed. “He’s just beautiful. Beautiful.”
Pride swelled Rae’s heart. He was the reason she was here—that she had agreed to impose on Forrest’s parents. She would do anything for Connor.
Just as it was clear that the Coltons would do anything for their son—even put themselves in danger.
“Let’s get you all inside,” Josephine Colton said as she pulled open the door to the house. “I’ve already freshened up the nursery for Bellamy and Donovan’s baby, so it’s all ready for Connor.”
That warmth in Rae’s heart spread even more. Her best friend was so lucky to have this woman as her mother-in-law. It would be months before Bellamy’s baby was here, but Josephine was already eagerly anticipating and preparing for her grandbaby. And even though Donovan wasn’t biologically their child, they had always treated him like he was a Colton. So they would treat his child the same way.
But why would they extend their hospitality to Rae and Connor?
Was it because she was Bellamy’s friend? Or did they know that something was going on between her and their son? Had Forrest told them...
What?
That they were sleeping together? Well, she was the only one who slept. He didn’t. He made love to her and left. Now that warmth spread to her face as embarrassment overwhelmed her.
What had Forrest told his parents?
“Don’t worry,” Hays told her as he closed and locked the front door behind them.
Forrest and his mother had already headed toward the stairwell that led up to the second story. But Hays hung back to assure her. “You’re safe here—you and your boy.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “And you’re also very welcome to be here.”
Tears stung her eyes.
Why couldn’t Beau Lemmon have been half the man that Hays Colton was?
Choked with emotion, she couldn’t verbally express her gratitude. So she hugged him.
He froze for a moment before gently patting her back. “You’ve been on your own entirely too long, young lady.”
She blinked away the tears and pulled back. “I’m fine. I have my friends and now my son.” When she looked for him, being carried up the stairs by Forrest, her gaze focused on the man instead of the baby, though.
She wanted more. She wanted Forrest.
She wanted a love like his parents had—a marriage that lasted. But she wasn’t a Colton or Bellamy or Maggie. She wasn’t lucky or blessed.
But that was fine.
She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She would just be happy that she had Forrest’s protection. She wouldn’t let herself hope for more—for his love.
As if he’d read her mind, Hays Colton told her, “Don’t be afraid.”
But was he talking about her hopes for his son? Or her fear for her life?
* * *
This was the first time he welcomed the unknown caller showing up on his cell phone screen. The first time he actually wanted to talk to the person who’d tried manipulating him into murder.
The murder of a man his daughter obviously loved.
The way she’d looked at Forrest Colton, with such concern, and at him, with such disgust, haunted Beau. He’d let her down. He knew that.
He’d let her down years ago.
But now...
Now he’d done more than disappoint her; he’d devastated her.
Guilt weighed heavily on him. A guilt that he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake this time—not with the thrill of a bet or a drink or anything.
He’d screwed up too badly this time. He’d eluded arrest, assaulted not one but two police officers and he’d threatened his own daughter.
At least that was how she saw it. And now he saw himself through her eyes—as a pathetic excuse for a human being. He had to make this right.
Somehow.
So he clicked the accept button and before the
man could berate him, he said, “I know I screwed up.”
He wasn’t sure how the hell this guy always knew, though. Did he have a police scanner? Some way of always knowing what was going on?
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I need to leave town,” he said.
The guy chortled. “How the hell are you going to do that?”
“I’ve got some money stashed at my old house.”
The guy snorted. “Yeah, right. If you had that, you would have paid me off right away.”
“I didn’t want you to know,” he said. “I thought I could get rid of the detective, like you wanted, and save the money for myself.”
“You’re going to pay me off first,” the guy replied, “before you go anywhere.”
Beau smiled over what he heard in the guy’s voice: greed. Beau understood it well. It was why—even when he was up—that he kept gambling. Because he wanted more.
This guy had to have money somehow—enough that he’d bought up Beau’s debt. Yet he wanted more. Beau had been counting on it.
“My girl left the house,” he said. “All the cops should be gone soon, too. I’m going to go back and get it. Then I’ll bring it to you. Where can I meet you?”
And who the hell are you?
“I’ll meet you,” the man replied and clicked off the phone.
Beau uttered a shaky sigh. It was what he wanted. But he knew this was the most dangerous gamble he’d ever taken. This one could cost him his life.
Chapter 23
Forrest wanted to come inside the bedroom with her and take her into his arms—just to hold her, to comfort her. But he didn’t trust himself to leave it at that, to leave her alone. And he hadn’t told his parents how he felt about her, that he was doing more than protecting her. He was falling in love with her. Hell, he’d already fallen...hard.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asked from the doorway of the guest room next to the nursery. It would have been used for a nanny if his mother had ever had one to help with the boys. But she hadn’t.
Rae grasped the baby monitor in her hand and nodded. “This was how I knew he was in there with Connor.” She shuddered.
“I’m sorry,” he said, guilt pressing heavily on him that he’d allowed the man to get into the house.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “None of it was your fault. It was his. What would he have done to Connor if I hadn’t heard him?”
Forrest had to reach out now, had to pull her trembling body against his chest to comfort her. “He wouldn’t have hurt him.”
She gently skimmed her fingertips along his swollen temple. “He hurt you.” She shuddered. “And Officer Baker. He might have killed him.”
Forrest shook his head. “No, he’s going to be all right. Beau hasn’t killed anyone.”
But she pursed her lips as if she wasn’t sure. “He admitted knowing that body had been buried in the backyard. How would he have known that?”
“The killer’s been in contact with him,” Forrest reminded her. So how did Beau not know his identity? Maybe the old gambler was better at bluffing than his debts would suggest. Maybe he did know.
Rae’s brow furrowed with skepticism. “Yeah, right.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“I don’t believe anything he says,” she replied, and her voice cracked. “When Mom got sick, he said he would come back and that he would be a much better husband and father when he did. But he never came back, not even for her funeral.”
Forrest’s heart ached with her pain. He wanted to take it all away from her and give her nothing but love. He didn’t know if she wanted that, though, or just the protection he’d promised her. He hadn’t done the greatest job at keeping his promise, though. Her father had gotten inside the nursery, had gotten his hands on Connor.
But Forrest couldn’t believe that he would have hurt his own grandson.
Rae sighed. “I’m sorry. All of that happened a long time ago. I should be over it now.”
“His return brought all of those feelings back for you,” Forrest surmised. “It must have been a shock to see him there.” And he hadn’t been there for her, hadn’t protected her from that.
“It shouldn’t have been,” she said. “You were asking about him. You suspected it could have been him.”
“I didn’t really think he was the one threatening you and Connor,” he admitted. Having been blessed with awesome parents himself, he couldn’t imagine one of them threatening him or his child.
“You thought he was the killer,” she said. “So why don’t you think that anymore?”
He touched the bump on his head that still tingled from her fingertips sliding gently over it moments before. “He could have killed me.”
“Maybe he thought he had,” she suggested. “Maybe he didn’t realize you weren’t dead.” Tears pooled in her eyes, revealing how hard it was for her to confront what her father could be: a killer.
“Stop,” he told her. “Stop worrying about it, about him. Just get some rest.”
Dark circles rimmed her big brown eyes as she stared up at him. There was something in her gaze besides worry and concern, something like what he was feeling. But was it real? Or was it only his wishful thinking putting it there?
He started leaning down, to look closer, to be closer.
He wanted to kiss her—needed to kiss her.
But the ringing of a phone drew him back to his senses. It wasn’t his cell; it didn’t even sound like a cell phone. His parents still had a landline, though, since the reception wasn’t the greatest at the ranch.
Who would be calling at this time, though?
It was closer to dawn than midnight now. “Go to sleep,” he urged her. “And maybe Connor will sleep in after tonight.”
“I should stay in the nursery with him,” she said with a worried glance at the closed door.
He wrapped his fingers around hers, which were wrapped around the baby monitor. “You have this. You’ll hear him if he wakes up.”
Just like she’d heard her father on the monitor.
She flinched, as if remembering that, and he wanted to hold her again, wanted to stay with her instead of going to his own room. As he opened his mouth to suggest it, he heard a creak on the stairs.
His hand went to his holster, and he whirled around to his father. “Just me,” Hays Colton said as he held out a cordless phone toward him. “And I’m not sure who this is, but they want to speak with you.”
Everybody with Whisperwood PD had his cell number. Who would be calling him here? And especially at this hour.
“Sorry, Dad,” he said as he took the cordless from him.
His father offered a weary smile to him and to Rae. “It’s never boring when you and your brothers are home,” he said. He patted his son’s broad shoulder. “And that’s a good thing.”
After all of the months he’d spent volunteering for desk duty with the Cowboy Heroes, Forrest would have agreed with him. He would have agreed if not for the danger Rae and Connor had been put in.
He turned back toward her. “Get some rest,” he urged her. “I’ll take this in my room.” He forced himself to walk across the hall, to leave her alone.
She murmured a good-night to his father before stepping into the guest room and closing the door. Forrest did the same, stepping into his room and closing the door.
Then he raised the cordless phone to his face and asked, “Who is this?”
“It’s Beau.”
Despite his assurances to Rae that her father wasn’t a killer, his blood chilled. The man must have been hiding in the shadows somewhere, must have overheard that Forrest was bringing the man’s daughter and grandson back to the Colton ranch. Had he followed them?
* * *
Voices emanated from the baby monitor. But Ra
e knew the men who talked weren’t in the nursery. She’d watched Forrest go to his bedroom. And the other man she could hear...
Forrest had assured her that he wouldn’t get close to her again. Her father.
The baby monitor must have been on the same frequency as the cordless phone Forrest was using, because the reception was as clear as if they were on a conference call with Rae.
“Where are you?” Forrest asked her father.
“It doesn’t matter where I am now,” he replied. “It’s where I’m going to be and who I’m meeting. You’re going to want to be there, too.”
“The killer?” Forrest asked, but there was skepticism in his voice now. He wasn’t as convinced as he’d tried to sound to her that her father wasn’t the murderer.
“Yes,” Beau replied. “I tricked him into meeting me.”
Was the killer whom he’d tricked, or was he trying now to trick Forrest?
Fear had her heart pounding furiously hard.
“Where?” Forrest asked.
“At my house,” Beau replied.
And Rae bristled that he kept calling it that. He’d given it up years ago, when he’d left and never returned. It was hers now—her home and Connor’s.
“You can’t call in a bunch of police units, though,” Beau warned him. “Or he’ll get away before we get a chance to see who he is. You need to come alone.”
And Rae’s blood chilled. Was her father setting up the man she loved? Was he trying yet again to kill him?
She wanted to shout into the baby monitor. But she had the receiver, not the transmitter. They wouldn’t hear her through it.
“When?” Forrest asked.
“Right away,” Beau replied. “He should be here any minute now.”
Forrest cursed. “You didn’t give me enough damn time to get—”
“Just you,” Beau warned. “Or you’ll blow it.”
And that was why he hadn’t called sooner. He hadn’t wanted to give Forrest time to call for backup.
“You can’t call this in,” Beau continued. “He might have someone within the department or be someone within the department. He knows too much.”