Sam’s questions stabbed her heart. A stable home in a clean, quiet little town was something she desperately wanted to give her son. He deserved it. He shouldn’t have to suffer just because his father had died or his grandfather was a greedy, evil man.
“I’m not sure, darling. But I promise we’ll find it soon. And then you can have a swing set and a sand box and maybe even a cat or dog.”
“Oh boy! I want a dog. A big one like Rin Tin Tin.”
A faint smile tilted Violet’s lips as she leaned over and kissed the top of Sam’s wet head. “You’d better finish your bath now, honey. We’ll talk some more about the dog later.”
By the time Sam was dressed in his pajamas and she’d helped him brush his teeth, his eyes were growing droopy once again. Violet put him to bed in the room where Charlie had kissed her. But she tried to put the ridiculous way she’d reacted to the man out of her mind. She had much more serious things to think about. Like how she was going to get her car going and move on before Rex could find her.
“Will you tell me a story, Mommy? Just a little one?” Sam pleaded as Violet tucked the sheet around him.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she took his small hand in hers. “I really think it’s time for you to go to sleep. You’ve had a long day, young man.”
“But I want to hear about the dog,” he protested. “Can we name him Mike and get him a doghouse to sleep in?”
“Sure we can. And we’ll get him a collar and put his name on it so everyone will know he’s Mike.”
Sam’s sleepy eyes glowed with anticipation. “And can I take him for a walk and make him fetch?”
Violet’s smile was full of love as she gazed down at her son. When Sam had been born, she’d been the happiest woman alive. She had all she’d ever dreamed and hoped for. A husband who adored her and a baby to complete their family.
But her happiness hadn’t meant to be forever, she thought sadly as her thoughts slipped back in time. By the time Sam had turned three, Violet discovered Brent had been unfaithful during one of his business travels. Of course, she had been shattered by his betrayal. But because she loved him, she’d wanted desperately to believe him when he promised it had been a terrible mistake on his part and would never happen again.
Eventually she had forgiven him. But deep down her trust in him had died. Whether Brent had sensed the change in her and resented it or whether he’d simply grown restless again, Violet would never know. Whatever the reason, his philandering started all over again, and because of it, their marriage began to crumble.
Her gaze slipped back to her son as she tried to shake away the depressing memories. Heartache or not, having Sam had made her marriage to Brent worthwhile. Other than her mother, her son was the only person to ever love her completely and unconditionally. She would do anything she had to do to keep him safe and happy.
“Yes, you can take him for walks and let him fetch,” she answered Sam’s question. “But first you have to teach your dog how to follow a leash and to return whatever you send him after, like a ball or stick.”
“Oh I will, Mommy. Mike will be really smart and everywhere I go, he’ll go, too!”
“That sounds nice.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then nuzzled her nose against his cheek. “And tomorrow we’ll start looking for our home. “I promise.”
“Goodnight, Mommy.”
She turned out the light and slipped quietly from the bedroom. After a quick glance in the living room and kitchen, she decided Charlie must have gone to bed while she’d been giving Sam a bath. That was more than okay with her. She wasn’t company who expected or needed the attention from a host. As far as she was concerned she wished she could avoid Charlie Pardee altogether. If there was any way she could walk safely out of here with her son, she wouldn’t hesitate to hit the road.
Deciding a bit of night air was what she needed to soothe her ruffled nerves, Violet stepped out onto the front porch, then immediately wished she hadn’t.
Charlie’s tall frame was tilted back in a straight, wooden chair. His booted feet were propped on the porch banister. The moment he heard her footfall, he turned his head in her direction.
“Sorry I disturbed you,” she said quietly, “I didn’t know you were out here.”
He continued to study her, standing there in the shadows. She wasn’t disturbing him, Charlie thought. At least, not in the way she was thinking.
Hating to appear as unsociable as he felt, he flexed a hand toward the chair next to him. “Since you’re already out here, you might as well sit down.”
She eyed the roped-bottomed chair. It was only a small space away from the man. Maybe it was silly of her, but she didn’t want to get that close to him. She didn’t want to be tempted to look at his handsome face, to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him again, kissed as if she were a woman he really wanted.
The whole idea sent a shiver down her spine, but she forced herself to walk to the chair and plop down as if he were no more than a pesky brother.
“It is much cooler now that night has fallen,” she said, lifting the heavy swathe of dark hair off her neck. “Sometimes when it’s hot like today, I think I should take Sam to a cool state. Northern California might be nice.”
Charlie’s gaze followed the slim, elegant line of her neck, then down to the thrust of her breasts. She was a small woman but every curve was full and perfect, just made for a man to hold. Yet he tried his best not to think about that. From past experience he knew that he and women didn’t mix. Texas Rangers were married to their state and the law that protected it.
“Have you lived there before?” he asked.
Violet’s sigh was wistful. “I’ve never been to California. But I’ve read about it. The northern part has pines and mountains and lots of snow in the wintertime.”
One corner of his mouth lifted mockingly. She sounded as if she were searching for the end of the rainbow. Didn’t she know paradise didn’t exist?
“Ruidoso’s elevation is seven thousand feet, so it gets plenty of snow. And in case you weren’t looking, it has pines and mountains, too.”
Violet could have told him it wasn’t necessarily a place in California she needed or wanted. Under different circumstances she would probably find Ruidoso perfect for her and Sam to settle down in. But the town just wasn’t far enough away from Amarillo for her peace of mind.
“I noticed it was very beautiful...but...I’ll be moving on once my car is fixed.”
Charlie turned his gaze back to the low, rolling hills in the near distance. He knew this land and every part of the Pardee Ranch as well as he knew the back of his hand. This place was as much a part of him as the very beat of his heart. It was home. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be like Violet, wandering, searching and alone. But wasn’t he like her? an insistent little voice inside his head whispered back at him. Hadn’t he really come back to New Mexico for relief, for a place to dump the blackness in his heart?
“California isn’t necessarily the end of the rainbow, if that’s what you’ve got in your head.”
He wouldn’t ever know what she had in her head, she thought. She frowned at him. “I’m not looking for a pot of gold. Money isn’t what I want.”
He grunted with mocking disbelief. “You were just whining earlier that you had to find a job to get enough money to fix your car. You’re lying if you say you don’t want money. Everybody wants it.”
She took a deep breath and tried not to let his attitude rile her. Even though this man was perturbing, he was helping her. She had to keep that uppermost in her mind. “You work as a Ranger just for the money?”
“It’s a job. It’s the way I pay my bills.”
Once again he’d avoided answering her question about his feelings on being a lawman. But Violet wasn’t going to point this out to him. The fact that he was so closed on the subject told her far more than he realized. Charlie Pardee wasn’t an altogether contented man.
She didn’t make any sort of reply, and after several minutes of awkward silence had passed, Charlie glanced at her.
“Have you ever lived in California?” From the drawl in her voice, he very much doubted it. But it was possible she’d been there for a brief time. Why he was curious, he didn’t know.
Violet shook her head. “I was raised in Georgia and lived there until I married my late husband and moved to Texas. I grew up where cotton and peanuts were raised.”
“You don’t...have family there now?”
She didn’t answer, and his blue eyes continued to watch her every reaction. She released the heavy curtain of hair, and it rippled back against her neck. Her mouth was grim, her eyes sad.
“My father still lives there. But we’re estranged. He’s an alcoholic.”
Charlie was surprised by her bluntly spoken admission. So far, she’d been very closemouthed. He’d never expected her to open up to him this much. Especially after the way he’d kissed her. She’d really been put out over that, and he hoped she was a woman who could forget easily. The last thing he wanted was to have her thinking he had designs on her.
Hell, he didn’t want or need any woman, Charlie told himself. To get tangled up with a widow and her child would be crazy. True, he shouldn’t have kissed her. But it had been an impulsive thing on his part. He had no intention of repeating it.
“What about your mother? Is she still in Georgia?”
Violet’s gaze dropped to her lap. To this day it hurt to remember her mother was gone, that she could no longer pick up the phone and hear her gentle voice or walk into a room and see her smile. Betty Wilson had been a hardworking, sensible woman whose only fault had been loving her family too much.
“My mother died about ten years ago. She had heart disease and needed a transplant, but we were poor and had no way to raise the money. Some of the local townspeople eventually tried to help by putting on fundraisers. We’d finally gathered enough together to get Mother’s name put on a waiting list, but it was too late.”
Her mother had died and left her with an alcoholic father. God, how fortunate he’d been to have had two wonderful parents all these years, Charlie told himself. “Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No. I was an adopted child.”
An emotion he couldn’t describe settled over him like the chill of a misty cloud, and Charlie wished he’d kept his question to himself. He’d often feared being a lawman was hardening him, making him indifferent. A lawman couldn’t take all the ugly things he saw to heart. He had to remain impersonal or he’d go insane. So why was he getting a need to make things better for Violet O’Dell? Because he was still trying to atone for Lupé’s death. Well as far as he was concerned nothing would ever do that.
Unsettled by his thoughts, he rose from the chair, paced across the length of the porch, then came back to stand in front of Violet. “I overheard you and Sam talking earlier when he was in the bathtub,” he said. “You don’t really have a certain place to go to, do you?”
She plucked at the hem of her shorts, and Charlie’s eyes were drawn to her legs. The urge to slide his fingers over the smooth calves was a strong one. But incredibly, the desire to see a smile on her face was even greater.
“No,” she answered. “We really have set out on an adventure, and I’m not exactly sure where it will end.”
Charlie wanted to jerk her out of the chair, take her by the shoulders and shake her. He wanted to yell how foolish and dangerous it was for her to be traveling alone with a child, that she shouldn’t be on an adventure, she should be home. But did she have a home? And if he asked her would he get the truth?
“The way Sam talked he’s never had a pet before.”
Violet looked out at the quiet night. She’d never been in such an isolated place, and she’d expected to find it frightening, but as she looked out at the sage and cactus and scrubby pinon tipped with silver moonlight, she thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“Before now I didn’t think he was old enough to know how to treat or take care of a pet. But he’s matured these past six months, so I’m going to see what I can do about getting him a dog.” A vague smile crossed her face. “I’m not so sure about getting a German Shepherd, though. We might have to start with something a bit smaller.”
The itch to question her further clawed at Charlie’s insides. The man in him, not the Ranger wanted to know why she was running. Oh, yes, he knew she was on the run from something. Whether it be a lover or the law, or simply herself, he could see her looking behind her with fear in her eyes. Yet he had no right to interrogate her. She wasn’t a criminal. Or so he doubted. Whether she’d had a home or was running because she didn’t was something she’d have to tell him on her own. He wasn’t going to pry it out of her.
“Do you have any siblings?” she asked.
Charlie had been so deep in thought about her it took a moment to switch his attention to himself. “I have a sister six years younger than me. Last year she graduated with a degree in art. Now she lives in Santa Fe. You know, the mystical place that calls to writers and artists,” he said with wry fondness.
“She sounds interesting. Does she paint?”