THE COWBOY'S BABY SURPRISE Page 13

  He was afraid to let her very far out of his grasp, so he kept his hands where he could reach her in an instant. Cami started to scream, and if he hadn't been able to see the look of unadulterated ecstasy on her face, Houston would've thought she was in pain. Cami's laughter was contagious, and Houston found himself laughing along with her.

  After a half dozen throws of the ecstatic baby, Carley had her hands over her ears, shielding them from the high-pitched shrieks. But she grinned, and there was a deep, loving look in her eyes as she watched her baby's play. He only hoped she could spare some of that love for him.

  A few minutes later Houston figured he'd better stop before the little girl got sick to her stomach. He pulled Cami to his chest, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. It was the best feeling in the world. He bent his head, placing a kiss in the middle of all that straw-colored hair.

  When Houston looked at Carley, he found silent tears welling up in her eyes. But she didn't look particularly sad.

  He shifted Cami to one arm and ran a knuckle over Carley's smooth cheek. He wanted to gather mother and baby into his embrace, keeping both of them safe and warm, but he didn't imagine Carley would care much for his protective demonstrations. He'd been the one to suggest they go back to the beginning, after all.

  * * *

  Long fingers of lavender and rose competed with the silvery shadows of twilight in the clear sky over the Rio Grande delta. Carley sat back in her lawn chair and smiled to herself. What a wonderful afternoon it had been.

  Shortly after she and Cami had arrived at the stock tank, Lloyd had appeared, leading a procession of children and teens bearing heavy bowls, pots and pans filled with all the ingredients for a real Tex-Mex barbecue. Then Lloyd had taken charge. He'd supervised the lighting of the fires, set the children to work arranging things, and all around bossed his way through the long afternoon of cooking.

  Lloyd took Carley under his wing and gave her lessons in the "proper" way to marinate fajitas. In beer. When Carley expressed surprise at his use of alcohol on the church's ranch, he grinned at her.

  "Don't nobody drink alcohol on this ranch lessen I give it to them," he huffed. "Cooking takes the bite out of the brew—tenderizes the meat and adds flavor." He narrowed his eyebrows in mock anger. "I keep the beer and some cooking wine under lock and key."

  Throughout the idyllic afternoon, Carley ate and laughed more than she had in years. She was really looking forward to spending some time alone with Houston later that night. All day he'd taken care to see to her every whim. When he wasn't directly catering to her and Cami's needs, he kept a watchful eye on them while attending to his other duties.

  Some time ago Cami had conked out, lying down under the shade of one of the long portable tables and falling sound asleep. Carley sent her back to the main house with one of the girls, issuing a request to have Rosie put her to bed.

  It had been such a lovely day, she'd almost forgotten about the foreboding chill of the stormy morning. Now, as dusk settled over the peaceful, country scene, Carley and Doc Luisa sat in lawn chairs watching the children's softball game. It took nearly all the counselors to be the coaches, and Gabe was homeplate referee. The barbecue drums were extinguished, and Lloyd and a couple of the ranch hands were cleaning and putting away the equipment.

  Carley looked around and realized that for the first time she'd lost track of Houston's whereabouts. "Have you seen Houston lately, Doc?"

  The older woman nodded and pointed in the direction of a few trees on the other side of the pond. "There he is. He's the one leaning his boot on that tree stump."

  "I see him now. Who's that he's talking to so seriously?"

  "Carlos. He's the young man who graduated this week."

  Doc shifted in her chair to get a better view of the two with their heads together. "Houston's been trying to convince him to stay on at the ranch as a part-time hand while he goes to school. Bright kid. He won a full scholarship to the local, four-year college."

  Carley tried to keep the surprise out of her voice, but it snuck in, anyway. "Houston's been counseling him?"

  Doc gave her an unreadable look. "He's very good with the kids—patient, understanding. And he listens to their problems without being judgmental. While he teaches them about ranch work, he helps them learn to become adults."

  "I see. And this young man, Carlos, he doesn't want to go to school?"

  The gray-haired doctor shook her head. "It's not the school so much as the place. Carlos thinks he wants to shed himself of the country and try big-city life. He's got friends who're going to the Galveston area intent on becoming oil-rig roustabouts and making their fortunes." Doc smiled. "Houston believes Carlos is too smart to buy into that pipe dream, if only he can face reality before it's too late. My money's on Houston's persuasive talent."

  "Hmm. That's a side of the man I hadn't known existed." Carley was thoughtful for a minute. She was about to ask Doc a few more questions concerning this new version of the man she loved when she noticed Rosie come barreling across the field from the barn.

  Carley shut her mouth and jerked herself from the chair to start in Rosie's direction. "Rosie, what's the matter? Is it Cami? Is something wrong with her?"

  By the time Rosie crossed the wide expanse to meet them, she was out of breath and gasping for air. But she kept shaking her head while she tried to speak. "Nothing's wrong with Cami," she finally managed. "There isn't anything the matter with any of the kids, but I have to get right back. I can't leave Rachel alone with them too long."

  "Then tell us why you needed to come way out here."

  Carley swung around at the sound of Houston's deep voice behind her. He'd apparently seen Rosie coming, and his massive strides brought him within a few yards of them much faster than the young girl could run.

  "Give her a chance," Carley cautioned him. She turned back to Rosie, who gulped for air. "Take your time. If the kids are all right and the house isn't on fire, whatever it is will wait a few seconds more."

  "Some lady from the state is at the house," Rosie blurted. "I think she said her name was Ms. Fabrizio, or something." Rosie's words were choppy, but she was beginning to calm down. "She said not to bother any of you at the party, but…"

  "Ms. Fabrizio? Out here at this hour on a Friday evening?" Carley didn't like the sound of this. "Did she say what brought her here?"

  Rosie nodded. "She's bringing a new infant from state custody. I haven't seen the little boy yet, but she was unloading him from her van." Rosie began to wring her hands with absent and distraught movements. "I didn't think it was right for the home to get a new charge without … one of the grown-ups there. So I snuck out the kitchen door. I did right coming for you, didn't I, Miz Mills?"

  "You did fine, dear." Carley laid a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to go back now so Rachel won't be by herself. But return the same way you came out, and you and Rachel do your best to stay out of Ms. Fabrizio's sight. I'll be right along to talk to her."

  Rosie looked a little panicked, so Carley added, "Don't worry. I won't tell her you came for us. Where was she when you last saw her?"

  "She'd parked her van by the side door, the door by the staff parking lot. It's the closest to the infants' rooms." Rosie turned her eyes toward the house even though it was too far away to be seen. "Should I tell Preacher Diaz?"

  Carley sensed Rosie's mixed feelings about going back. But she was strong. Carley knew she'd do whatever was necessary.

  "I'll tell him later." Carley glanced over her shoulder to see Gabe in the middle of a heated debate at home plate. No sense bothering him now. She turned back to Rosie. "I can handle this alone. Now you scoot back to the house and quit worrying about it."

  "Yes, ma'am." Rosie took off at a dead run.

  "You will not." Houston's voice was close behind her—and deadly quiet.

  Carley spun to face him. "What?"

  "You won't be handling this alone." He laid a hand on her arm. "I'll be there with
you."

  She was too tense to smile, but she gently covered his hand with hers. "No reason both of us have to spoil a good evening. You stay with the kids. I'll catch up to you later."

  "No, ma'am." His eyes, half-hidden in the lengthening shadows, were alive with messages she was too nervous to read. "I don't exactly know what's going on, but I can tell you're upset over it. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know everything's okay."

  Carley opened her mouth to tell him she'd be fine, but ended up closing it before the words were uttered. The truth was, she wanted him to be beside her. Oh, Carley didn't think that Ms. Fabrizio would cause any trouble, or that she herself couldn't handle anything the lady dished out. But she'd feel better facing the unknown if Houston went along.

  "All right. We'll walk over together." Carley turned to Doc Luisa. "Can you stay and let Gabe know what's happened after the game's finished, Doc?"

  "Sure. But would you rather I come now to check over the new infant for you?"

  Carley smiled, as the kindly eyes of the dedicated doctor displayed her concern. "No. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

  Carley's own sense of danger was intensifying by the minute. "You could do me a favor, though. Make sure none of the children come back to the main house for a while. We'll let you know when things are all clear."

  The doctor agreed, and Houston and Carley quickly headed through the 4-H barn. The side door to the barn opened up on the far edge of the staff parking lot. Houston pulled open the heavy wooden door, and Carley was temporarily blinded by the overhead parking lot lights. When her vision cleared, she saw a commercial-type van, bathed in shadows and parked next to the side door of the main house.

  Though the night was warm and turning sultry, Carley felt a sudden chill wind. None of this seemed right. Her hand automatically went to her waistband holster. She let her fingers tighten around the smooth, metal gun handle, but left the weapon strapped in place. Maybe she was being silly and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.

  Carley and Houston took a few tentative steps toward the van. They were still cloaked in the barn's shadow, and they found themselves silently stealing forward an inch at a time. Carley felt as if she could wrap herself in the suspense that hung in the air.

  Before they reached the edge of their cover of darkness, a woman stepped from the side door of the house and headed around the front of the van. The light was particularly bright by the door, and Carley and Houston both caught a clear view of her.

  The woman was about Carley's height and build, but instead of auburn hair, hers was black and cropped short in the back. She glanced around quickly as if she was nervous. Her eyes were every bit as black as her hair. They were flat and cold, not lifeless, but—mean.

  Carley heard a soft gasp from the man walking next to her. Houston reached out and stopped her from moving any further into the light.

  "Something's very wrong here. I know that woman," he whispered.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Carley stood perfectly still, but turned her face to whisper back at Houston. "'Know her' from where? How?"

  "I don't know how or where. But she's the woman in my dreams … my nightmares."

  Carley's instincts went on full alert. She couldn't let Houston get mixed up in whatever lay ahead. "Go back through the barn and get to a phone. Call the local field office of the FBI. Ask to be patched through to Reid Sorrels. Tell him Agent Mills said it's an emergency and she needs assistance."

  "No." He stepped closer to her and tightly gripped her elbow. "I said I'm not leaving you."

  She couldn't see the look in his eyes because of the shadows over his face, but she could hear the tone in his voice, telling her all the things he didn't have time to say. Carley turned her head to survey the area, hesitating to issue a direct order to the man she loved, but at the same time needing to keep him safe.

  The fact that Ms. Fabrizio had brought a baby to the ranch without notifying anyone made Carley more than a little suspicious. But that she'd deliberately timed it to be in the middle of a Friday night party made Carley's thoughts turn to baby-stealers and rumors about the ranch. Houston's wariness of the woman clinched it for her.

  Carley laid a hand on her hidden weapon again, but she didn't want any trouble here on the ranch with the children and Houston in harm's way. Ms. Fabrizio appeared to be alone. Carley wondered if Reid was close by. She had a gut feeling this woman was the one he'd been seeking.

  "Who's out there?" Ms. Fabrizio shouted in their direction. Too late to do anything else, Carley decided to try talking her way out of the problem.

  "It's only me, Carley Mills, Ms. Fabrizio." Carley stepped forward and, in a few feet, left the shadows for the brightly lit parking lot. Houston was so close to her she could feel the tension coming from his body. "I'm surprised to see you. I thought you weren't coming out here till next week," she said, then managed a fake smile.

  Ms Fabrizio peered at them as they neared the van. In a second she straightened, pointing her finger at Houston.

  "You?"

  Houston stopped dead. The sound of her voice reverberated in his ears. A door to his mind cracked open, letting out shards of broken memories. Each one whizzed around his brain, a kaleidoscope of hazy red faces and blurry blue memories. Everything was moving too fast. He couldn't speak.

  Ms. Fabrizio didn't have any such trouble with her voice. "Alberto! Get out here! Come see a walking ghost."

  She'd turned to call out, and as she turned back, her hand withdrew a gun from her jacket pocket. And she pointed it directly at Houston's head.

  Houston could feel Carley freeze beside him, but he couldn't focus on any of his current surroundings. Vivid images assailed his mind, bombarding him with information from every side.

  A hulking, dark man stepped out of the shadowy light on the far side of the van. When he spotted Houston, his lips curled up into a wide, yellow-toothed grin. "Ah. Mi amigo muerto."

  "We left you dead once, lawman. Looks like we muffed the job." Ms. Fabrizio motioned to her ugly, overweight henchman. "Knock him out and throw him in the back of the van. We don't have anything to tie him with, so make sure he's out cold. And don't make another mistake. Once is enough for any man to beat death."

  She turned to Carley. "I'm afraid you stepped into the middle of something that isn't any of your business, sweetie. Now we won't have any choice but to have you meet with the same accident as your boyfriend here. Too bad. I kinda hoped you and I could come to some arrangement. It would have been very profitable … for both of us."

  The next moment everything exploded around Houston in a blur of activity. The heavyset man swung a solid object at Houston's head, landing a blow across his ear and buckling his legs under him. As he dropped to his knees, Houston saw Carley ram the giant with a quick upper cut to his chin. Alberto staggered backward against Ms. Fabrizio's weapon, discharging it directly into his own back.

  "Move. Move. Move." Carley's voice burst from her lips as she commanded him to get up. Houston's legs felt disembodied, black nothingness obscured his vision. He struggled to his feet as Carley half dragged him around the corner of the house, pulling her weapon from its holster as she went.

  Using the house itself as a shield, Carley pulled them both down to the ground. Houston leaned against the Mexican bricks of the house and fought to form a coherent thought.

  Carley squatted beside him and gently touched her fingers to his head. "You're bleeding. I knew I should never have let you come with me."

  "Carley." His voice was shaky, rough in his own ears. He cleared his throat.

  "Can you get up?" She peeked around the corner, back to where they'd just come from. "Looks like the giant is down for the count. Our gun-toting bureaucrat is dragging him into the cover behind the van."

  "Why didn't you take her into custody when she fell off balance … instead of taking cover yourself?" His voice was stronger now.
/>
  Carley glanced back at him, then quickly returned her gaze to the van and the woman it sheltered. "I couldn't take a chance on her shooting you while you were down. Do you think you can make it to the back door? I need you to lock the doors from the inside and then call Reid. Can you do it?"

  He put his hand on Carley's shoulder and squeezed. "Give me the gun and go make the call. You can get through to him faster than I can."

  She shook off his hand, but didn't turn around. "No. No. It'll be fine. Just get the operator to patch you directly to the field office."

  He almost smiled at her bravado. Carley was definitely a goddess.

  "Hand over your weapon, Special Agent Charleston Mills." He put all the authority into the words that he could muster, considering the pain in the side of his head.

  She spun around, her eyes wide with shock. "Witt?"

  He did smile then, but he wasn't sure she could see in the ever-darkening twilight. "I remember." He put a hand on her arm to reassure her. "It's coming back in waves, but I've recaptured nearly everything."

  "Oh, my God. Witt!"

  He slid the Glock from her grip. "Now get in the house and lock the doors. I've always been a better shot than you and, besides, I've got a little score to settle with Ms. Fabrizio."

  Carley's mouth opened and shut a couple of times before she quickly changed places with him. "I need to check on the kids," she squeaked.

  Turning to steal away, she stopped, jerking her head back to him for one last parting remark. "But only in your wildest dreams are you a better shot than I am, buster. And don't you forget it."

  Witt chuckled at her words as he watched her scurry to the kitchen door. When she disappeared into the relative safety of the house, he turned back to his immediate problem.

  Ms. Fabrizio had hunkered down, leaving the van between them. With the rapidly approaching veil of darkness, she could easily get into the van and maybe get away before he could stop her. Or worse, she might get inside the house's side door before Carley could lock it. He needed a little time—and a little luck.