Lonestar Sanctuary (27 page)

He took her hand, unhooking it from the other one. "You're shaking. What's wrong?"

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry." She rubbed her eyes.
"Betsy's talking," she said. "But for how long? He called me while I was
working."

"Who?"

She clung to his hand. "The guy who's after me."

His fingers tightened, and he drew her close to his chest. She fit
so well in his arms, like she was made to be there. His hands stroked
her soft hair, so fine and silky. The trembling eased. "Now tell me
what he said."

"Nothing," she mumbled. "He played a song."

"What song?"

"`Gonna Find Me a Bluebird.' It's my favorite."

"How'd he know that?"

She pulled away and glanced up at him. "That's what scares me. He
knows things about me, whoever he is."

He pulled her tight again. "You're safe here."

But was she? He looked out over her head and saw the glint of
binoculars on the hillside.

He grabbed Gunner from the corral and rode up the hill. Jem ran
along beside the horse. No weapons, he realized. His nightstick was in
the umbrella stand by the front door.

Pebbles scattered and slid down the slope as the horse's hooves
dislodged them. The wind nearly blew his hat off when he reached the
top of the incline. Turning in his saddle, he looked down toward the
ranch. It was about here he'd seen the glint of something.

He dismounted and led Gunner along the narrow trail. His gaze
scanned the thin, rocky soil for tracks.

Jem growled, then took off toward a big rock that looked like a
jackrabbit. Rick leaped after the dog. He heard a man's voice shout,
then a figure shot up from behind the rock and backed away from the
snarling dog. Jem never barked or snarled, so Rick grabbed a rock in
each hand and rushed forward to see who would rile the dog like that.

A Hispanic man who looked like he was in his fifties was kicking
at the dog and screaming in Spanish. He seemed oblivious to Rick's
approach.

Diablo!"the man shouted. "Ferro diablo."

Devil dog. Jem was anything but that. Rick grinned when he realized the guy wasn't armed. He called the dog, and Jem trotted over
to sit at Rick's feet.

"Who are you?" he asked the man.

The guy spread his hands out. "No Engless," he said in a heavily
accented voice.

Rick switched to Spanish and asked the question again. The man
told him he was heading to Mexico to take money to his mother. He
was quick to pull out his card to prove he was legal.

It was only after Rick let him go and returned to the ranch that he
realized the guy didn't have anything shiny on his person. So where
had the glint come from?

WHILE RICK WAS CHECKING OUT THE HILLS, ALLIE PULLED BETSY ONTO
her lap and smoothed her curls. "I'm so glad to hear your voice,
sweetheart. I've missed it so much." Her own voice was choked, and
she swallowed to regain control. She didn't want Betsy to feel bad.
"Now when you play with Courtney, you can talk to her too."

Her eyes bright, Betsy smiled. Pride shone out all over her.

Rick had performed a miracle here. Allie still couldn't believe it,
but the big guy had gotten through Betsy's defenses. And the horse
helped too, of course. The ranch had worked its magic.

Betsy looked over Allie's shoulder. "Grammy and Grandpa." She
pointed.

Allie turned to see the familiar car rumbling along the bumps toward them. Careful to hide her displeasure, she let Betsy stand, then
groaned as she got to her feet to greet the Siderses.

Erika got out, smoothed her skirt, then started toward the corral.
Hugh followed. Her gaze traveled from Allie's head to her jeans, and
she grimaced. Then a pleasant smile dropped into view as if she
changed masks. "Allie, my dear, should you be out of bed?"

Allie wanted to brush any dust from her clothing and hair, but she
wasn't going to give Erika the satisfaction of knowing she felt selfconscious. "I'm fine. I'm about to teach the kids how to barrel race."

"I hope you're not letting Betsy participate in something so
dangerous."

"Not yet,"Allie said. "But she'll learn when she's ready."

A disagreeable expression twisted Erika's mouth, and she started
to answer, then snapped her lips shut. When her smile returned, it
looked forced. "We thought we might take you to lunch."

"It's only ten o'clock,"Allie said.

"We can visit until then," Hugh said. "You need us to help out with
anything?"

Like they were dressed for ranch work. Hugh's black suit was
already picking up dust.

"No, we're fine," Allie said. What was she going to do with them
for two hours? Her gaze settled on Betsy's head. "I've got good
news Betsy is talking again!"

She expected them to be overjoyed, but instead suspicion narrowed their eyes. They glanced from her to Betsy.

"Is this a scam?" Hugh demanded.

Allie rolled her eyes. "Betsy, say hello to Grammy and Grandpa."

Betsy didn't look up, but she shook her head.

"You're just trying to bolster your position with the court," Erika said. "You think if you can say Betsy is talking again, you won't look so
incompetent. What do you take us for, Allie? The judge won't be taken
in either."

"No, she won't. She'll see right through the two of you,"Allie shot
back before she could bite her tongue.

Hugh's face reddened. "I should have known you wouldn't accept
an olive branch. Erika, get in the car." He stomped back toward the car.

Erika opened her mouth, then closed it again and followed her
husband.

Allie ran her hand over her daughter's curls. "Why wouldn't you
talk to Grammy?"

"She doesn't like me," Betsy said.

"Of course she does, sweetheart. She loves you."

Betsy shook her head, her chin taking on a stubborn jut. "She yells."

"That's just her way. Everyone loves you, Bets."

Betsy smiled up at her, and Allie felt a fresh burst of joy. Her soul
had been so hungry for communion with her child. It was one thing
to talk to Betsy and know she heard, but another thing for her to listen to her daughter's sweet voice answering back. She wasn't sure
how she'd survived the silence this past year.

Rick came back down from the hills. "Just someone walking," he
said. "Nothing to worry about."

But Allie saw how Rick kept glancing back toward the hills. She
sensed his worry. Setting her focus on the kids, she decided she wasn't
going to think about it. The kids were depending on her to have a fun
day, and she was not going to let anything mess it up, not Jon's parents, and not some wanderer.

She went to the corral and joined the kids. "The most important
thing about barrel racing is the connection between you and your horse. You've all been here long enough to figure out which horse is
your favorite," she told the kids. "A good horse can go for fifty thousand dollars or more, so the horse means everything. None of these
horses have been trained yet, but that doesn't mean they can't learn
what you want and expect. All of you go get the horse of your choice."

She and Rick watched as the teenagers glanced at one another,
then trotted off to take charge of a horse. Latoya grabbed Moonbeam's
reins, and Fern gave a longing glance at Cupcake.

"You can ride her, Fern. It's been nearly a month, and she's doing
good," Rick said.

The girl's smile beamed out, and she went to the mare. The boys
chose Winston and Rebel. They all looked half-scared as Rick rolled
barrels from the garage into the corral.

"Okay, the object is to go around the barrels in a cloverleaf pattern
and to do it without knocking over any of the barrels. The winner is
the one who takes the least time. Let me show you." Her muscles
complaining, Allie mounted Jackson.

This was going to be hard with the way her body ached, but the
exercise would be good for that. The gelding's hard muscles moved
under her legs. She patted his sleek neck. "It's hard for the horse if you
come at the barrel straight on," she said, urging her horse to a trot.
"I'm going to go slow at first and show you the angles."

Jackson responded to the pressure of her knees on his sides and
the reins on his neck. The gelding went around the barrel completely,
then turned to cross to the other barrel. With his body tipping to the
right, Allie felt the saddle give a little. She tried to adjust her position
when she felt it give a little more.

What was wrong with the thing? Shifting her weight, she felt it
give again.

Then it was sliding down the horse's belly.

She kicked her left foot free of the stirrup and tried to do the same
with the right as she vaulted away from the horse, but her boot
caught. Tugging on it, she slid down the horse's belly with the saddle.
Dangling by her right foot, her back slammed into the dirt.

Allie tasted dust.

She tried to reach up and grab the reins, but Jackson went wild,
racing over the hard ground with his hooves hitting dangerously near
her head. Those wicked hooves flung pebbles and rocks up into her
face, and one narrowly missed her left eye.

She flinched and twisted her foot in the stirrup, but it still refused
to budge. Everything moved so fast, she barely felt the rocks and twigs
dig into her back. She flailed again, trying to reach up to disentangle
her boot, but it was impossible.

She became aware of Rick shouting. His voice sounded close, but all
she could see was the ground quickly racing past her gaze. Then the landscape's passage began to slow, and finally she was lying stunned beneath
Jackson's hooves while the sweat dripped from his neck onto her face.

She felt gentle hands release her foot, then Rick touched her face.

"Are you all right?"

She blinked and tried to rise up, then groaned as her already sore
muscles protested at the new indignities. "I think I'm alive."

"Thank God." He ran his hands over her limbs. "I don't think anything is broken. Can you stand?"

"Let me try." She really just wanted to lie there until she caught
her breath, but Betsy would be worried.

He slipped his arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up. Her
head spun, and pain stabbed at her neck, but with his help, she managed to get up.

"What happened?" he murmured in her ear as he helped her toward
the house.

"I don't know. The saddle just slid. Who saddled him?"

"I did. The cinch was tight." He got her to the fence. "Here, sit
down while I take a look at the saddle."

Hanging on to his arm, she bit back a groan as she lowered herself to a rock. The teenagers flocked around her with big, worried
eyes. "I'm fine," she assured them. "Come here, Bets," she told her
daughter. Betsy huddled at her feet and laid her head against Allie's
leg.

"Dude, barrel racing ain't for sissies," Devon said. "That was awesome to watch."

"I thought you were toast," Leon said.

"Me too," Latoya said. She knelt beside Allie. "You need some
water or something?"

"That would be good,"Allie said. "I've got dust in my mouth. How
about you all go inside while I wait for Rick? You could fix me some
tea. There are cookies in the tin on top of the fridge."

"You're sure you're okay?" Latoya asked.

"Fine." Allie managed a smile. It was all she could do to tear her
gaze away from Rick. From his clenched fists and tight jaw, she figured
he'd found something ominous. "Go with Fern, Bets."

Betsy got up with a show of reluctance but took Fern's hand, and
the kids all went toward the house.

Rick came toward her with the saddle in his hands. He tossed it at
her feet. "Someone cut the cinch ring with snips," he said. He showed
her the sharp, cut edges.

Allic didn't often cry. Tears were a weakness she didn't like to
show, but her eyes burned with the need for release. "I'm so tired of this," she choked out. "If he would just show himself, or tell me why
he hates me. I don't understand."

Rick went to his knees beside her and caressed her cheek with the
back of his hand. "We'll find him. Somehow we'll stop him. I'll go see
the border patrol. I meant to go before now."

The border patrol. Big deal. They weren't going to help her. "But
what does that have to do with me?"

"I don't know, but it's the only place I have to look. I still wonder
about the illegal alien thing. There was a lot of money run through
your account. Whoever this guy is, he's got money to burn, and he had
to earn it somehow. You want to go with me?"

She shook her head. "Maybe Betsy and I will go see Dolly." She
wanted to forget the problems, to laugh and pretend everything was
normal for just a little while.

"Okay." He rose and held out his hand. "Can you walk to the house?"

"I think so." She accepted his hand and struggled to her feet. Her
legs felt shaky, and she leaned against his chest.

The thump of his heart's steady rhythm under her ear was as comforting as a hot water bottle to a puppy. His arms came around her, and
without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his waist. The way his
pulse accelerated made her look up to find him staring down at her.

She told herself to move, but she didn't want to. Lost in the vast
blueness of his gaze, she clung to him.

Then his head came down, and his lips brushed hers. She inhaled his
breath, the scent of his skin, and the response it brought in her caught
her off guard. When he would have pulled away, she kissed him back and
tightened her hold on him. She could sense his start of surprise, but
then he pulled her tighter and kissed her until she was breathless.

Allie wanted to lose herself in his kiss, to forget the danger that threatened, to find a new path to walk with this husband she barely
knew. To live when it seemed as though her life might soon be over.

Her knees trembled, and she would have sagged to the ground
except for his strong arms supporting her. When his lips left hers, she
felt abandoned, bereft. With reluctance, she opened her eyes again
and gazed up into his face. His eyes blazed with a passion she hadn't
seen in a man's face in too long.