Texas Baby Sanctuary Page 6

  She felt a twinge of empathy. Then her curiosity overruled her better judgment.

  Prying the entire truth from him might be a bad move, however. Sam thought he knew all about her. Thought he knew her whole story. But if she began to question him too closely about his inner demons, he might feel entitled to turn the tables on her.

  And that wasn’t going to happen.

  * * *

  The smell of coffee brewing drew Sam out of his sleep. But his aching shoulder and a roaring headache kept him sitting on the edge of the bed, groggy and in pain instead of getting up. Hell.

  He glanced around, looking for his jeans, but his gaze landed on the familiar objects in the too-familiar room. He’d slept in his and Travis’s old bedroom because there’d been more space for Mikey’s crib in his parents’ old room.

  Now he wished he’d slept downstairs on the couch. Or not come back to this house at all.

  Too many memories. Too many objects to remind him of his youth.

  He’d spent the better part of the past fifteen years forgetting. Setting aside all the painful memories. But with one sweeping glance every one of them had come back in a raw and throbbing rush.

  Well, no help for it. This was where he could keep Grace and Mikey the safest. Serrano’s men had little chance of either finding or getting to them this far inside the ranch. So this was where they would stay.

  Might as well get on with his job and the forced reminiscing. He absently rubbed at his aching shoulder a couple of times and stood. Painkillers would be in order before coffee.

  Easing into a soft flannel shirt then pulling on his jeans and boots took some doing. But after a quick cleanup in the bathroom and downing two pills, he found himself feeling half decent as he rounded a downstairs corner into a kitchen that came right out of his childhood.

  No one had changed a thing in all these years. His mother’s wallpaper was still intact. His grandfather’s handmade rough-hewn cabinets still hung at an uneven slant. It even smelled the same as he remembered.

  “Good morning.” Grace looked up from her spot at the table beside Mikey and grinned. A smile that reached her eyes. “Are you still in pain?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little stiff. You made coffee.”

  She handed Mikey a quarter piece of toast and said, “Travis must’ve had someone stock food. The cabinets and the refrigerator are loaded. We could probably hide out here for a year and never see a soul.”

  Sam reached for a mug without thinking and his hand automatically landed on the one with the chip in the bottom that had always been his. “Don’t count on it. Travis told me that the Bar-C is using the homestead’s old barns, the ones my father built, for much of their horse breeding and foaling operations. The barns are located about a half mile down the lane, but the road out front is the only way of getting there.”

  Grace shrugged. “No one will stop here, will they?”

  “I doubt it. Not too many people working on those operations at this time of year.” He poured coffee and took a seat opposite Grace and the baby. “But I’d bet a month’s pay that Jenna will show up just as soon as she can find a way past her father.”

  Laughing, Grace nodded. “She was pretty miffed about our leaving last night. That child really took to Mikey in a big way.”

  “I think she’s lonely. Misses having a mama around.”

  Grace stood and said, “I made Mikey scrambled eggs for breakfast, you want some?”

  “Coffee’s fine.”

  “I remember being Jenna’s age and wanting a baby brother or sister to play with—in the worst way.” Grace tilted her head and looked Sam straight in the eye. “You need to eat something to get your strength back. It’ll only take a moment.”

  As she turned the gas on under the burner she went on, “You said you grew up with a big family. I suppose you wouldn’t know how it is to be an only child.”

  “No, I never…”

  Just then Mikey interrupted the conversation by pitching his remaining toast directly at Sam’s chest. Then with a big whoop and a toothy grin, he said, “Da!”

  Grace ignored her son’s outburst but Sam needed to take a deep breath as he unbuckled the baby from the family’s old high chair. The moment turned into yet one more occasion when he wished he was this cute baby’s daddy. But where were those thoughts coming from?

  He’d tried for most of his life to keep away from the prospect of a wife and children of his own. Some of his close relatives, namely his father and grandfather, had been what people used to label “dysfunctional” and that was enough to make Sam hesitant to wish for a family of his own.

  Yeah, Grace’s kid was special in a lot of ways, and Sam would do anything to keep him safe. But he also figured that in the long haul living with a man like himself would be a curse on any child.

  Shaking free of the sudden melancholy such thoughts brought on, he settled the baby in the crook of one arm and turned to Grace. “I haven’t seen Mikey in weeks. His top teeth are all in. How many words can he say?”

  Grace set a plate of eggs in front of him and gave him a look that said he had better eat. “A handful. Still not many. But he calls every man he sees Da or Da Da.”

  She chuckled and went on, “Calls all the women Ma or Mama, too. Don’t take it too much to heart. And put him down on the floor now so you can eat. Floor’s so clean you could use it as a plate. He’ll be fine.”

  “Does he walk already?” Sam gently placed Mikey in a sitting position on the floor beside his chair.

  But Mikey quickly toppled himself over and began to crawl. He disappeared under the table so fast that in a moment Sam lost track of him.

  “Uh…” Grace looked down at her leg as Mikey appeared, pulling himself up into a standing position against her by using her jeans as a handhold. “Not by himself yet. But obviously he’s standing alone, and Caroline told me he’s been cruising around holding on to the furniture, too. It won’t take him long.”

  Sam shoveled the eggs into his mouth. He knew he would never get away from the table without eating first. Grace was a very determined woman.

  And he very much needed to get away from this table. The scene was too intimate. Too cozy. He needed air.

  Popping the last bite into his mouth and pushing himself back, he told her, “I think I’ll take a walk around the property and down to the barn. See what things look like after all these years.”

  “Oh, can we go, too? Will it be safe for us outside? No one could, um, shoot at us from a distance or anything?”

  Damn near swallowing his tongue, Sam managed to speak. “It’s safe enough outside. But are you sure you…”

  “We’d love a walk. Let me just bundle Mikey up and put on his shoes.”

  “Grace, the barns are quite a distance for a baby and it’s cold. Why do you want to go?”

  She lifted Mikey in her arms and headed toward the stairs. “It’ll give you and me a good opportunity to talk. I want to hear all about your childhood on the ranch.”

  Hell. He never talked to anyone about his childhood. He hadn’t even mentioned his ranching background in his basic employee file for the Marshals. Not a chance he’d be spilling his guts to Grace, either.

  Chapter 8

  The air was crisp but not cold, the sky a cornflower blue. Sam walked his two charges down the one-lane road toward the barns, amazed the weather, as usual in West Texas, had made a complete one-eighty turn from last night.

  While their little group was circling around the house and grounds, he’d noticed quite a few projects that needed attending. Thinking they might make good excuses for him to stay out of the house while stuck here on the ranch with Grace and the baby, he mentally prepared a list of supplies he would need.

  Grace remained mostly quiet, only making a comment now and then or softly murmuring to Mikey, safely snuggled in her arms. Sam wondered when the interrogation would begin.

  In the meantime he glanced around at their surroundings. At the fields and fences of h
is youth. He felt surprisingly safe. A condition he never allowed himself to feel. His job was to make other people feel secure when by all rights they should be scared and under their beds. Anytime he let down his guard long enough to feel protected in his surroundings might mean the end of everything.

  Yet he couldn’t help it this time. He’d grown up here and had always felt at ease on the Bar-C. It was hard to think that a goon like Serrano could be stalking him even on the ranch.

  “Look, Mikey,” Grace said aloud. “That’s a river. And those are trees. Aren’t they pretty?”

  Not far in the distance, the North Concho was visible as it wound its way through the landscape.

  “Most of those trees you’re seeing are willows,” he told Grace. “And a few pecans grow in the low spots. My mom used to bake pecan pies and she’d make us kids crack the nuts from those trees. Seemed like it used to take about a thousand per pie.”

  “Really? Tell me about your mom.”

  Now why the hell had he opened his big mouth? He would not discuss his mother. Her story hadn’t ended well and Sam didn’t want to remember. He hated thinking about her, to tell the truth.

  “She was a regular mom. Did a decent job of raising six kids. Taught me how to make a bed, wash my own clothes and take orders. I appreciated having that knowledge in the army.”

  They’d arrived at the gate to the foaling barns. “Well, here we are. Want to get a little closer? See what we’ve got inside the barns?”

  “Sure. I guess so.” Grace shifted Mikey from one arm to the other.

  Sam opened the gate and twisted back to them. “Here, let me carry the baby for a while. Wouldn’t want you tripping on any horse apples and dropping our boy.”

  “I don’t want to know what horse apples are, do I?” She handed over her son.

  “You’ll know. You’ll be able to smell them long before you see them. Try not to step on one. You’ll wreck those fancy athletic shoes you have on.” As Sam settled Mikey in one arm, the baby stared up at him with big wide eyes.

  “These are the most comfortable working shoes that I’ve ever owned.” Grace glanced ahead on the path and eyed a suspicious lump of dirt. “Guess I should’ve bought boots before we left Fort Stockton.”

  Mikey reached up and patted Sam’s cheek with the tips of his little fingers. Sam caught himself giving the kid a silly grin. Then he felt like the village idiot. These paternalistic impulses he was having were not appropriate and he needed to find a way of doing his job without all the emotion.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Careful as we enter the barn. They usually put down a combination of cement and boards for the aisles instead of using dirt like they use on the riding paths. And as I recall, the old boards were more uneven than the dirt. Easy to trip.”

  As they entered the cool shadowed recesses of the barn, and the smells of hay, manure and horseflesh assaulted his nose, Sam’s shoulders relaxed. He had been gone too long.

  At the first stall they came to, Mikey perked up. He pointed at the resident mare and squealed something in baby talk.

  “Yes, Mikey,” Grace said. “That’s a horsey. Can you say horse?”

  “Mum ma.” Mikey bounced up and down on Sam’s arm.

  “No, baby. Horse.”

  “Rase!”

  Sam chuckled. “Not quite. Maybe someday I’ll take you for a ride. You’d like that.”

  As they continued ambling down the wide aisle past mainly closed stall doors, Grace looked over at Sam. “Do you ride well?”

  “Used to. Haven’t sat in the saddle since I left home to join the army.”

  Grace nodded thoughtfully. “It seems like you did all right here on the ranch with your family and the animals. It sounds like a perfect place for a kid. Did you always want to join the army? Is that why you left?”

  “The military was an escape. That’s all.” Before she could question him further, he quickly went on to ask, “What did you want to study when you went to college?”

  “I was a journalism major.” She answered in a strong voice and without hesitation. “I wanted to be in newspapers like my dad.”

  “If you could do anything you want now, is that what you’d choose again?”

  After taking a deep breath, she hedged, “I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”

  Yeah, it figured that she wouldn’t want to dwell on her past too much, either. He should’ve known that. Opening his mouth to say something—anything to get the two of them out of the mess they’d created for themselves, he was surprised when she spoke first.

  “But I suppose if given my choice I would still want to write. Someday. Not so sure about newspapers, though. Maybe I’d like to try my hand at fiction instead.”

  They turned a corner and happened upon an open stall holding a mare and a six-month-old colt. Mikey screeched and started bouncing and yelling.

  “Raz! Raz!” He tried reaching out for the animals and squirmed, trying to get down.

  Too late, Sam felt the baby slipping from the perch in the crick of his injured arm. Mikey headed in a nose dive toward the floor.

  Both Sam and Grace jumped into action at the same time, grabbing for the child as he dropped. “Mikey!”

  The next few moments lasted a lifetime. But when the dust settled, Sam found himself on his knees on the barn floor, holding Grace who was holding Mikey.

  For a long time no one moved. Mikey seemed stunned into frozen silence. Grace was the first to breathe—and then she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Sam snapped.

  “The look on your face is priceless.” Grace’s eyes sparked with amusement. “You’re our hero. You saved us.”

  The way she was looking at him made his chest squeeze tight. But before he could come to his senses and mumble a reasonable remark back, Grace inched her face closer to his.

  “We think that deserves a kiss as a reward. Right, Mikey?”

  Sam stopped breathing as his eyes focused down on her lips. Those soft, kissable lips that were coming closer every second.

  * * *

  Grace told herself it was only a simple thank-you kiss. A playful, innocent thing to break the tension and pay him back for avoiding her questions.

  So it made little sense that, from the moment her lips brushed his, she felt electric shivers running along her nerve endings. Sam was holding himself still—perfectly still with his eyes open. Who kissed someone with their eyes open?

  But instead of breaking away as she normally would, Grace found herself closing her own eyes and breathing deeply through her nose. She smelled the lingering scent of his shaving cream and for some reason the smell drove her crazy. She’d noticed that same scent dozens of times before, but today it was one of the most sensual fragrances she could ever have imagined.

  Without giving it enough thought, she used her tongue to nudge his lips, hoping he would deepen the kiss. For a few frozen moments she was sure he would be the one to break the kiss. But no. After a trembling hesitation, he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers and then parted his lips.

  He tasted of coffee and crisp mornings—and home. And Grace’s blood began to boil. What had she done?

  His mouth was hot—as she’d known it would be. His hands were firm, strong yet gentle as he held both her and Mikey in his arms. She’d been fighting this attraction for months. She had no right to want an intimate relationship with this good man—or any other. No right at all.

  But his kiss was perfect. Just right. And…

  Fortunately for her, Mikey saved the day by beginning to squirm in his spot between them. The baby pounded his little fists against her chest and babbled his growing irritation about holding still for so long. Grace finally came to her senses and pulled back.

  She struggled for a decent breath before saying, “It’s…a little cold on the cement floor for Mikey. I think we’d better move.”

  “Right.” Sam stood, pulling both her and Mikey up with him.

  He glanced at her, chec
ked her up and down, then released Mikey to her grasp.

  Giving her a half smile, he both unnerved her and left her weak in the knees. She fought to rebuild the barriers they’d erected between them—sorry she’d broken the invisible and unwritten line that had been keeping them apart.

  Scrambling to find something to divert attention from the tension darting between them, Grace set Mikey down on his feet, steadied him and held on to his tiny hands. “Let’s walk, baby. Take a step for mama.”

  Any intimacy between her and Sam was out of the question. While staying on the ranch and learning more about how to survive, she needed him. At arm’s length. But her two most important life missions were devoting full attention to raising her son, and learning how to stay out of the way of Jose Serrano and his pack of cutthroats.

  * * *

  As soon as he could gather his wits about him, Sam straightened up and said, “If you think the cement is too cold for Mikey, let’s walk out the other side of the barn onto the dirt path. The sun has been warming the earth for most of the morning.”

  He was grateful to Mikey for becoming a distraction. For one crazy moment he’d thought about apologizing. But number one: she was the one who’d initiated the kiss. And number two: he wasn’t the least bit sorry.

  The only thing he was sorry for was that the kiss had ended too soon. He could’ve gone on kissing her for hours, days. Maybe for the rest of his life.

  But that was such a disturbing notion, he decided it was better to change the subject, concentrate on Mikey and get on with their walk.

  Grace glanced over her shoulder at both ends of the barn, to where sunshine poured through open doors, and then nodded to him. “Good idea. He likes the horse barn just a little too much for a first outing.”

  As she looked up into Sam’s face with a tentative smile, he felt the tension as strong as ever between them. And didn’t care for it one bit. They were hiding out in a safe house, it didn’t matter that the house happened to be his old home. The two of them must remain focused while in forced proximity for an undetermined amount of time. Lusting after each other would make the situation impossible.