Up until now Charlie hadn’t said anything. After all, she was a stranger. It wasn’t any of his business what she did with her vehicle, herself or her child. And he was on vacation, damn it. The last thing he needed was to hassle himself with a woman and kid. But if she needed help or advice he could hardly refuse.
“Violet, if you have to be somewhere at a certain time, you could take the bus and come back and get your car later,” he suggested.
Her green eyes swept up to his face, and in spite of his reluctance to get involved, Charlie felt himself crumbling like a piece of soft sandstone.
“There’s no need for us to catch a bus. I don’t...have a schedule to meet,” she told him haltingly. “Like Sam told you...we just packed up and headed out on an adventure. I suppose—” She bit down on her lip while glancing back at the sick engine beneath the hood. “I’ll have to find a job of some sort before I can afford to repair my car. Is there any sort of job for a woman in Ruidoso?”
Hellfire, she needed an employment agency, not him, Charlie wanted to yell at her. Instead, he took a deep breath and motioned for the mechanic to go ahead with the towing. Then, taking Violet by the upper arm, he led her to where Sam was still waiting patiently beneath the juniper bush.
“Violet, jobs don’t grow on trees. Out here or anywhere. It sounds to me like you’d better contact someone at home and have them send you the money.”
Her spirits sinking to her feet, she shook her head. There were several friends back in Amarillo who would gladly lend her money. But she doubted any of them had that much extra cash lying around the house. And even if they did, Violet wouldn’t ask for such a loan.
“I don’t—”
Have a home
, she very nearly blurted before she managed to catch herself. “There’s not anyone to send me the money,” she finished quickly.
“What about Grandpa? He has lots of money,” Sam suggested, his expression all grins for having thought of such a sensible solution.
Without Violet even knowing it, a shutter fell over her face. “We can’t...bother Grandpa with our troubles. He has plenty of his own.”
Charlie’s gaze went from mother to son and back again. She was obviously in a dilemma and a broken-down car was only a part of it. But that didn’t surprise him. Women and trouble went hand in hand. If they didn’t already have a problem, they would soon get themselves into one.
“What sort of job can you do?”
Violet’s chin lifted.
What can you do?
The question grated on her like coarse sandpaper. She might look helpless and ignorant to him. But she wasn’t. Neither was she lazy or afraid of work.
“I was working as a bookkeeper before, but...” she instinctively circled her arms around Sam and pulled him against her legs. “I’d prefer to do something where I could keep my son with me. But that’s like wishing for rainbows every day of the year. I’ll take whatever I can get and be glad for it.”
She wasn’t a Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Charlie could say that much for her. But she obviously wasn’t using much common sense, either. What in hell kind of woman would head out with a small child across a lonely stretch such as Highway 380? And simply because they wanted an adventure!
He jerked his head toward his pickup truck, “Let’s follow the wrecker. Once you get into town you can decide what you want to do, for tonight at least.”
But tomorrow, Charlie told himself, she’d have to take care of herself. He was going to say goodbye to Violet O’Dell and head to the peace and quiet of the Pardee Ranch.
Chapter Two
T
he thirty-minute ride into Ruidoso gave Violet an opportunity to weigh her choices, but her mind was so weary it refused to think much further than a hot meal and cool, clean bed. And having Charlie Pardee sitting a short space away from her wasn’t helping her state of mind, either. The man was far too distracting. All she wanted to do was look at him and think and wonder and imagine.
Violet didn’t know what was the matter with her. Men were not on her Want list. As far as she was concerned, she never wanted to look at another man. Especially one who considered her too silly to get out of the rain, as this one seemed to. And he wasn’t being the least bit inviting. So why was he striking a nerve in her?
Questions about the man were still nagging her when the outskirts of Ruidoso appeared ahead of them. The unexpected beauty of the town caught her attention, and for the next few minutes she pushed Charlie to the back of her mind and enjoyed the landscape flying by the pickup window.
Violet hadn’t expected mountains to suddenly spring out of the desert. Especially mountains covered with tall, thick pine and cottonwood. The town itself was a blending of old and new. The shops and boutiques nestled along the winding streets appeared to cater to everyone from the cowboy to the snow skier to the art lover.
Ruidoso was beautiful, she decided as she breathed in the sharp, clean scent of evergreens. And from the looks of things it was going to be her temporary home for the next few weeks. It wasn’t a thousand miles from Amarillo. But she couldn’t let herself worry about that now. As long as no one back in Texas found her, she and Sam could survive. They were finally on their own, and Violet was determined to keep things that way.
At the garage Violet informed the mechanic she’d be contacting him in the next day or two to let him know what to do about repairing the motor. Once that was accomplished, she joined Charlie, who was waiting at the back of her vehicle.
“Does this town have a taxi service?” she asked as she handed him the key to the trunk.
“I think so.” Without waiting for her reply, he opened the back of the car and motioned toward the bags and suitcases jammed in every crack and crevice of space. “You want everything out of here?”
Violet couldn’t believe that less than twelve hours ago, she’d loaded the car with their things and driven away from Amarillo, away from the house that had been her home for the past seven years. Already it felt as if she and Sam had been traveling for days.
“I guess I will need most of them. We’re going to be here for a while. Now what about the taxi?”
He placed an armload of bags on the ground at their feet, then straightened. If Charlie knew what was good for him he’d let her call a taxi and be done with her. But hellfire, he was already here. And Roy Pardee would never drive off from a stranded woman. In all good conscience, his son couldn’t do it, either.
“What do you need a taxi for?”
She studied him with a guarded expression as though she was still trying to weigh the idea of trusting him.
“We’re going to a motel,” she told him. “And there’s no need for you to bother driving us. We’ve already wasted enough of your time. I’m sure your family will be worrying about you.”
Charlie’s mouth twisted to a grim line. His parents weren’t worried. As far as they knew he was still on the job in Texas. But he was beginning to worry about himself. It was time to let this woman and child go their own way, but something wouldn’t quite let him.
“My folks aren’t expecting me. I like to do things that way,” he added when her brows arched with speculation. “You know, surprise them. Either way, Mom always cries when she sees me.”
How wonderful, Violet thought, to have a family to go to, a mother and father who would always be glad to see you. But she wouldn’t know about those things. Not since her mother had died ten years ago.
Her father, if he could be called such a thing, was still living back in Georgia. But Leroy Wilson had broken ties with them years ago. He’d wanted a bottle of vodka more than he’d wanted a family.
Violet glanced at the small watch, strapped to her wrist. Even though the summer sun was still burning high, it was nearing six-thirty in the evening.
“Well, this isn’t getting either of us anywhere,” she said, reaching into the trunk for more bags.
Charlie picked up those he’d earlier placed on the ground and carried them over to the bed of his truck.
“Where are we going now, Charlie?” Sam asked, hanging his head out the window.
The child had been waiting patiently in the cab of the truck. Charlie knew he had to be getting tired and hungry. But so far he’d been a little trooper. If Violet had been raising the child on her own since her husband died, he had to admit she’d been doing a good job.
Charlie paused by the open window. “I’m going to take you and your mommy to a motel.”
Sam’s little round face wrinkled with misgivings. “What’s a motel?”
The question told Charlie the child had obviously never traveled before. At least not since he was old enough to remember things. “It’s a place where you can rest and sleep.”
“But I wanna eat,” he quickly pointed out. “I don’t wanna rest.”
“Sam, don’t argue. We’ll eat as soon as we can,” Violet told him, then to Charlie she asked, “Why are you putting my things in your truck? I told you we’d call a taxi.”
“Are you always this contrary?” he asked sharply. Then, not allowing her the space of a breath to answer, he ordered, “Just get in the truck and I’ll take you.”
His demanding attitude would have normally infuriated Violet. But in this case she was more suspicious of the man than anything. A few hours ago he’d never laid eyes on her or her son. Their welfare or misfortune was none of his concern. Moreover, he didn’t appear to be all that pleased to be bothered with them. So why didn’t he go and leave them to their own business?
She tilted her head back to look at him. And from Violet’s height that was a long way up.
“Are you one of those people who bring home poor strays you find on the street?” she asked him.
At one time in his life Charlie had been that sort of man. And it was still his nature to help people. Until they wronged him. Then he could be as mean as a diamondback rattlesnake.
“The things I pick up off the street, Violet, I usually take to jail. You don’t want to go there, do you?”
She supposed the cynical twist to his lips was supposed to be a smile. But Violet wasn’t particularly warmed by it or his sarcastic brand of humor. It was too close to her fears to be funny.
“Not really,” she answered tartly, then added, “I get the idea you’d rather be doing anything than what you’re doing now, Charlie Pardee. I don’t understand why you’ve taken my problem upon yourself.”
He didn’t understand it, either. But ever since the Lup6 Valdez case, Charlie had not been himself. He felt constantly obliged to help and protect anyone and everyone. Even those that weren’t his responsibility. He knew it was an impossible task, and he knew he was killing himself trying, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Having Violet and Sam with him now was proof of that.
“For Pete’s sake, I’m not making myself your social worker!” he said crossly. “I’m just going to drive you down the street. If you want to feel beholden to me for the rest of your life go ahead, I won’t mind.”
“You’re making fun of me now.”
He sighed and tried to shake away the frustration that was making him bite at this woman. “Not for anything would I do that.”
For a Texas Ranger he was awfully loose, Violet thought, even brazen. But then maybe that was his style, his way of getting to people. Because he sure was getting to her. And the awful thing about it was he wasn’t even trying.
“Okay, okay,” she said, lifting her palms in a gesture of helpless surrender. “We’ll accept a ride with you down the street.”
Five minutes later, sitting behind the wheel of his truck, Charlie watched Violet enter the motel office. Beside him on the bench seat, Sam played with a miniature tractor his mother had fished from a bag in the back of the truck.
What was she going to do? Charlie asked himself for the hundredth time. Where would she find work, and what would she do with Sam, and what the hell did she mean by heading out on an adventure? On the surface the woman seemed sensible enough. In fact, she seemed nothing like a ditzy, half-cocked female just out for laughs and a joy ride.
Laughs
. Charlie wasn’t sure she knew how to laugh. So far he hadn’t so much as seen a smile on her face. But then, to be fair, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really laughed himself. Perhaps they were birds of the same feather, Charlie decided. They’d both quit singing a long time ago.
His dark thoughts were suddenly broken by Sam’s wheezy cough. He glanced down at the boy. “Are you getting sick, little guy?”
Sam shook his head. “Nope. I just have asthma sometimes. Mommy says it’s those damn cattle pens that give it to me.”
Charlie’s lips twitched at Sam’s innocent use of his mother’s curse word. “Is that so? Did you live on a ranch?”
His nose wrinkled as he considered Charlie’s question. “No. It wasn’t a ranch. We lived with my grandpa in his house. And there’s a stockyard down the road. But we’re not gonna live there anymore. Mommy says there’s a better place for us to live and there is, ’cause she’s always right.”
Her son had asthma, and she was looking for a better place for the two of them to live. Charlie supposed those two things weren’t earth-shaking problems. But they were to someone with not even enough money to get their vehicle repaired.
But she and the boy weren’t his problem, Charlie quickly reminded himself. No way, no how. He’d never laid eyes on the woman before today, and in a few more minutes he’d never see her again.
Anyway, she wasn’t exactly poor or homeless, Charlie continued to argue with himself. Her clothes and the make of her car told him that much. More than likely, if she had problems, they were of her own making. She could find that better place for her and her son to live all by herself. She didn’t need Charlie Pardee’s help. And who the hell said he could help her, anyway? he asked himself bitterly. He hadn’t been able to help Lupé.
The grim thought set off a buzz in his head as he watched her pay the man behind the counter several bills. If he’d only kept Lupé out of that motel. If he’d only taken her home with him instead of leaving her there that night. But like Violet, she’d been insistent that she could take care of herself.
The buzzing quickly turned to a roar, and the next thing Charlie knew he was inside the office, grabbing Violet by the arm.
“Get your money back,” he ordered in a dangerously soft voice. “You’re coming with me.”
Her eyes wide with shock, Violet attempted to jerk loose from his hold. “What are you doing? I’m not going with you!”
“Yes, you are.” He turned a cutting look on the man behind the counter. “Give her the money back. She’s not staying here tonight.”
The large man rocked back on his heels and eyed Charlie with a mocking smirk. “Look, mister, I don’t want to get involved with your domestic quarrel. If you want to take the little lady home, take her. But the policy of this motel is no refunds.”
Violet’s mouth fell open as her eyes darted from one man to the other. “I’m not going anywhere but to the room I just rented!” she practically shouted at the two of them.
Ignoring her, Charlie pulled out his badge and flashed it to the proprietor. With eyes like steel and a voice to match, he said, “I’m changing your policy this time. Now give her the money!”
His feathers dampened by the prospect of tangling with a Ranger, the man counted the refund back onto the counter. Charlie snatched up the bills and pushed them into an open pocket on Violet’s purse.
Because she didn’t have much choice, she allowed him to lead her outside, but once they reached his pickup truck, Violet dug in her heels and refused to go any further.
“Okay, Ranger Pardee, what was that all about?” she asked, her rising voice quivering with anger. “You just made a mess of everything! Now what am I going to do?”
He glanced down at her reddened cheeks and flashing green eyes. Even in her agitated state, she was the prettiest woman Charlie could ever remember seeing. But he told himself that had nothing to do with what he was about to say next. “Don’t worry about it, Violet. You’re coming home with me.”
Charlie didn’t know what in hell had come over him. He was supposed to be on vacation. The next four weeks were his and his alone, to rest, sleep and eat whenever he wanted, to do absolutely nothing or whatever he felt like doing, whenever the urge struck him. He hadn’t come back to New Mexico to wet-nurse a young woman and child!
Even now as Charlie drove east toward Hondo, he couldn’t believe Violet and Sam were still with him. He didn’t know how it had happened. One minute he’d been watching her pay a man for a motel room and the next he’d had her by the arm pushing her into his pickup.