Authors: Brenda Minton
“Do you think she's alive?”
Jake didn't have an answer to that, but he didn't want his kid brother to have false hope. “I'd say she probably is.”
“I've thought about hiring someone to find her.”
Jake tamped down his temper. Violet had her head on his shoulder but she looked up at him, big blue eyes questioning and a little worried. He managed to keep his tone soft for her sake. “Brody, why? She didn't want to be a mother twenty-two years ago. I doubt she feels any differently today or she would have come back.”
Brody looked like a kid who'd lost his favorite toy. Jake hated that. He didn't want to feel like the guy who kicked the dog. It made him angry all over again. He'd been picking up the pieces for years, and each year at Christmas he picked them up all over again. For Brody. Maybe for Samantha, too.
This year there would be four missing spaces in their lives and at their table. Parents, a sister, a brother-in-law.
He looked over to Breezy and watched as she spoke to Dotty Williams, a sweet old thing with too many cats. Everyone avoided Dotty's pies at church potluck dinners. Those cats were notorious for climbing on counters and inside mixing bowls.
Breezy laughed at something the woman said and then hugged her. Breezy filled up the empty spaces. He was waiting, unwilling to completely trust that she would stay.
He realized that was the difference between himself and Brody. His kid brother kept waiting for a mother who wasn't coming home.
Jake refused to believe that anyone would stay.
Chapter Eleven
B
reezy pulled into the drive long past ten that night. Choir practice had been wonderful. The people of Martin's Crossing had welcomed her into their group, made her feel like a part of things. After parking she sat in her car for a minute. It felt good, to have this town and these people. It felt good to have the twins, as exhausting as they were.
Violet and Rosie had gone home with Brody and Jake. Marty was home and the girls seemed ready to go back to what had become their normal routine at Jake's house.
That meant Breezy was alone again in this house, with the memories she was trying to piece together, and the missing spaces that would never be filled. She reached into the backseat for her purse and, exhausted but happy, climbed out of the car. As she walked up to the front door something stirred in the grass.
She stopped, listening to the softest sound. Maybe it was just a rabbit or a stray cat. She reached into her purse for her keys and raised her hand to unlock the door. She heard it again. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A chill swept through her, setting her nerves on edge.
Wanting her hands free, she put her purse on the chair next to the door and kept her arm bent, ready to take aim at a face if someone sneaked up behind her. As she put the key in the lock she tried to tell herself it had been her imagination. She was used to living in cities and the silence of the country must be getting to her.
Who lived in places this quiet? This dark? She laughed a little at her own apprehension. Of course that's all it was. The wind had rustled the shrubs and she'd panicked. She pushed the door open and reached for the alarm system, then thought better of it. She had a minute to punch in the code. A minute to make sure she was alone, that there wasn't really someone out there.
As she reached back to get her purse, the body came at her from the dark end of the porch. He shoved before she could prepare herself. She fell back against the door and tried to steady herself.
“I'm not going down without a fight!” she yelled. As she went at the man, pushing her palm into his nose and then kicking him in the gut, he fought back, knocking her sideways. Her head hit the wall and her legs crumpled.
The alarm went off, screeching into the night air, breaking that country stillness with a vengeance. Her attacker ran for the back office. Breezy grabbed her purse and found the pepper spray. But as she ran through the house, she heard the back door slam. He was gone.
The house phone rang. She picked it up, answering the call from the alarm company. They asked her if she was okay. She told them she needed the police. No, she didn't need an ambulance. And then she sank back to the floor.
Headlights flashed before blue lights. She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the door with her head pounding, feeling less than steady on her feet. Jake jumped out of his truck. Behind him another truck pulled up. Duke got out, racing his brother to the house.
Martins to the rescue, she thought. She giggled, but that hurt, too. She pushed her fingers against her temple and winced.
“What happened?” Jake shouted as he headed up the sidewalk.
She shook her head only slightly. “Could you not yell?”
“Is he still here?” Jake continued.
Duke had joined them. “Maybe give her a minute?”
Jake took a deep breath and Breezy shot Duke a grateful look. “Thank you. No, he ran out the back door. He was waiting for me to open the door and deactivate the alarm, I think. Good thing I heard something and decided to not deactivate the alarm.”
Duke grinned at that. “Good thinking, sis.”
Jake came closer than was necessary. Or at least that's what Breezy thought. She closed her eyes and his fingers brushed her temple, pushing her hair back and then settling on the knot that had come up on the side of her head.
“That should probably be checked out.”
“I'm fine, just a little loopy from getting pushed into a wall.”
“Right, of course you're fine. But we'll still get that checked.”
“At the Martin's Crossing E.R.?” she teased.
“No, we'll have to take a drive to Austin.”
“I'm not interested,” she argued. But her vision wavered a little. “But I would like to sit down.”
Jake picked her up. It happened in one swoop. His arm was around her shoulder one minute and the next his other arm swept beneath her knees. “I can walk. I...”
“You want to keep arguing until you pass out?” He grinned in the dim light of the porch. “Relax.”
They walked inside. Or Jake and Duke walked. Breezy allowed herself to be carried, to be the damsel in distress, just once. She told herself she wouldn't do it again. She'd been taking care of herself a long time. And it wasn't the first time she'd been on the receiving end of a man's fist. But it felt good to be in his arms. It felt safe there. Why wouldn't she rest her head on his shoulder, breathe in his scent? Any woman in her position would.
She might have suffered a concussion but she hadn't been knocked senseless. She sighed as she relaxed in his arms.
Outside the window, blue lights flashed and a siren wailed. Duke took a careful look around the house as Jake settled her on the sofa. He reached for the afghan on the back of the rocking chair and covered her with it.
“I really don't need a blanket.”
“Of course you do.” He tucked it up to her chin.
“I'm really okay.”
“Yeah, I know you are. But humor me.”
Duke reappeared with a bag of frozen corn. He handed it to Jake, who settled it on the side of her head. She flinched as the cold touched her skin.
“You should see the other guy.” She teased, even though her head did ache.
He laughed a little. “I bet. Did you manage to get a good shot when you hit him? And did you see his face?”
“I think I probably broke his nose.” She grinned up at the cowboy leaning over her, his blue eyes searching her as if looking for other signs of injury. “And no, I didn't see his face.”
She told herself not to be too overcome by his hero act. He took care of everyone. He would have done this for a stranger.
Commotion at the front door ended the conversation and her rush of emotions. Duke spoke to the officers and led them inside. One took off through the house, the other approached her.
“Do you need an ambulance?” he asked as he stood over her. Why did the cops always look imposing, even when they were on her side? She shivered a little and shook her head.
“I'm good.”
He asked questions then, about the suspect, about his build, any identifying traits, if she'd seen a vehicle. The only thing she knew was that he had been about her height and he probably had a broken nose. The officer smiled at that and wrote information on the tablet he'd carried in with him.
The other officer returned. “There's some blood in the kitchen.”
“From the broken nose.” Jake laughed as he said it.
They discussed evidence. The door to the office had been opened but because the alarm had gone off the guy had left, running out the back door.
“He could have had a gun.” Jake pulled a chair close to the sofa.
Breezy opened her eyes and looked up at him. “But he didn't. Or if he did, he wasn't interested in shooting me. He's looking for something.”
“Right, and he was willing to slam you against a wall.”
“Jake, I'm fine.”
As she said the words she knew that she wasn't fine. Not really. Maybe she would be physically, but emotionally she knew she had a real problem. For the first time in her life, she wanted to be taken care of. She wanted to be protected by this man, held in his arms.
And that scared her. More than the intruder ever had.
* * *
The deputies finished their investigating and told Jake that unfortunately they couldn't find much to go on. He walked them out, then returned to the living room, where a medic from the local first-responder unit was examining Breezy. He'd insisted it was either the local guys or he would take her to Austin.
Duke had left. Jake thought it would be a good idea for one of them to be at the Circle M, just in case their prowler thought he might find what he was looking for in Jake's office.
“How is she?” Jake asked the medic as he sat down on the edge of a chair. Breezy touched the knot on her head, wincing. He guessed that was his answer.
The medic, a guy who had been in Afghanistan twice in the past few years, gave her one last look. “I think she's okay. She said she never lost consciousness. I do think it would be a good idea for her to stay awake for several hours. If the headache changes, speech slurs, you know the symptoms to watch for.”
Jake did know the symptoms. Brody had been riding bulls for ten years. They were concussion experts.
“We can handle it. She'll be at my house where Marty and I can keep an eye on her.”
“I can stay here!”
“Of course you would argue.” He leaned back, watching as the medic packed up his stuff. Boone was a good guy. He'd grown up on a ranch outside of town, and his folks had gone through some tough times.
“Ma'am, no arguing with this,” Boone said. “You really have to be with people tonight. And you have no idea who this guy is and if he'll come back.”
She looked around the house, now lit with overhead lighting. Jake watched as her gaze landed on the nativity she'd put on the mantel and then the tree. He'd told her to make this house her own, add her stuff. And she had.
He thought he understood her reluctance. “It's a day, two at the most, Breezy.”
She nodded and moved to the edge of the sofa. “I need to pack a bag.”
“I can help,” he offered.
A smile broke across her face. “No, you can't. But thank you.”
A few minutes later, they were heading down the road to the Circle M. He shot a cautious look at the woman in the truck next to him. The light was dim and he couldn't make out her expression, but he heard her weary sigh, saw her lean a little toward the window as she clutched her overnight bag in her lap.
“You okay?”
“I'm good. I just thought it would be different here. It isn't supposed to be like this.”
“Care to share?”
She shook her head. “No, not really.”
He pulled up to his house, easing the truck into the garage. Duke's truck was parked out front in the circle drive. He had caught sight of his brother sitting on the front porch in the cold. Jake guessed he wasn't the only one with the burden of needing to protect.
They walked in through the garage door that led through a utility room, a breakfast room and then the kitchen. The giant-size kitchen that the woman who had agreed to marry him insisted she would need. Only she hadn't really wanted a kitchen in a ranch house in Texas Hill Country. She was now married to a doctor in Austin. Jake hadn't quite met her standards.
The same way his dad hadn't met Sylvia's standards. She'd wanted to be a socialite, not a rancher's wife.
He shrugged it off. “Want a cup of coffee? I can plug in the Keurig.”
She sat down on a bar stool, dropping her bag on the floor next to her. “Sure, if I have to stay awake, I might as well have coffee.”
The machine was already plugged in and the water reservoir filled. Marty must have anticipated they'd need it. From the living room he heard the door click and then the alarm system computer voice said, “Alarm activated.”
Duke walked into the room a few minutes later. “Coffee?”
“Yes. I guess you want a cup.” Jake pulled three cups out of the cabinet.
“Might as well if we're going to be up all night.”
Breezy spun on the chair to face him. “You don't have to stay up. I'm really okay.”
Duke took off his hat and tossed it on the counter. “Listen, sis, none of us is going anywhere. That's how we Martins roll. We stick together.”
“I'm not a...”
He patted her hand, silencing her. “Yeah, you're one of us. So relax. Let Jake take care of you or he'll break out in hives.”
“Jake has enough on his plate without the burden of me. I don't think that's my reason for being in Martin's Crossing.”
“Oh, I think it is.” Duke headed around the counter to make his own cup of coffee. Jake shot him a lethal glare.
“What's going on?”
Jake pushed a cup under the spout of the Keurig. “Nothing. How do you like your coffee?”
“Since I don't drink coffee, I'll take it however you think is best.”
“Cream and sugar,” Duke offered. Jake shot him another look. “What did I do now? You know, I think I'll head to the living room and put my feet up.”
“Good idea.” Jake spooned sugar into the cup and added cream. He set it in front of Breezy. She rested her elbows on the counter and laced her fingers together to rest her chin on her hands. He thought she looked done in, and guessed by morning they'd all look a little worse for wear.
“Thank you.” She pulled the coffee to her and raised it to take a sip. Her eyes closed and she sighed. “Why haven't I ever been a coffee drinker?”
“Maybe you haven't had the right coffee?”
“Could be.”
Jake made his coffee and sat down next to her. “Breezy, what happened?”
“A guy broke into my house.”
He sighed and placed a hand over hers. “In California. On the streets.”
“Oh, that.”
Pain flashed across her features. Sadness and anger followed.
“Yeah, that. You said you thought it would be different here. I want to make sure it's different.”
He wanted to give her a home that no one took from her, a place filled with family and friends. He couldn't stop thinking about the sister they'd taken her away from. Or Lawton had taken her from. He knew she'd wanted to stay in Oklahoma and build that relationship.
“You're very sweet, Jake.” She moved her hand, turning it so that their hands were palm to palm, and then she laced her fingers through his and brought his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles.