Facing the Fire Page 12

  Maybe. What she really wanted was Clint right now. In that exact moment, Clint was all she really wanted.

  She would have said more but Perci's husband knocked on the exam room door. After a few questions about what happened, he inspected Maggie quickly. "When are you due?"

  She told him the date. "The baby's a boy. Everything has been going well. I just want to have him checked out. Make sure that man didn't hurt him."

  She shuddered. Nate patted her on the shoulder, then cupped her injured cheek gently in his big hand.

  She would have to deal with the knowledge that someone had been in the house when she'd been there alone later.

  Right now...right now, she just needed to know that her baby was ok.

  28

  Clint stood in the middle of the hardware store trying to juggle getting everything he needed and keeping Violet from throwing a massive fit. He fought panic; twenty pounds of girl human shouldn’t be this terrifying. But she was.

  Big blue eyes blinked at him.

  She was getting droopy. He made the quick decision to spread his coat over the bottom of the cart and let her snuggle down in the warm denim. He had just gotten her situated when her big blue eyes closed and she snuffled her way to sleep—calling for her “Mag-Mag”.

  It just about broke his heart.

  He had no idea how Maggie managed to get anything accomplished while also taking care of Violet. Add in the pregnancy and her job…

  She had to be a miracle worker.

  It was no wonder Maggie kept falling asleep around nine each night. She had to be exhausted.

  Clint wished he had the resources to hire her some help. But that wasn't in the budget. Not for a long, long time. Unless her salary from her online job would be enough to help them manage to pay for additional childcare.

  At least part time each week. He could manage a few hours each day in between running the ranch, if needed.

  Worry for how they were going to manage with a second baby while she worked and he was working the ranch had him distracted as he moved his way through the next aisle.

  It was there that Rex found him. The other man’s body language had Clint tensing automatically.

  "I've been searching for you all over town. Trying answering your cell once in a while."

  "Couldn’t. Violet was throwing a fit. What's happened?" Maggie. His first thought would always be Maggie. And their baby. Always. He pushed the panic away.

  "Leave your cart. I'll have Officer Grady get it," Rex jerked his head to the young WHP deputy who had trailed after him, a slightly awed expression on her pretty face. Clint vaguely recognized her as the mayor’s daughter. "Someone broke into your ranch."

  Ice shot down his spine. "Where's Maggie?"

  "She's at the hospital, just getting checked out. The intruder knocked her down in the hallway. She’s bruised, but was able to drive herself to her cousin's place up the road. The Tylers are looking for you now. I don’t know what they intend, but I’ve had your back this long. Figured I’d see this through. Come on.”

  Clint was already moving.

  Clint scooped Violet up, coat and all. Fear had his chest tight. "Is she ok? Tell me the truth."

  "She seems to be, from what I heard when I talked to Joel Masterson. But I knew you'd want to be there. Everyone's talking about the fact that she's back. And very pregnant. They've put one and one together. Well, they are assuming you and Maggie put one and one together. Congratulations, by the way. I guess we can finally say that out loud now."

  They'd kept all mention of Maggie and Violet as quiet as possible while she’d been gone. To keep someone after Clint from learning of Maggie’s importance to him. Most of the town hadn’t even realized she’d been working as his housekeeper for months before the shooting.

  Probably her brothers’ doing.

  She hadn’t exactly advertised that she’d been living in his home all those weeks ago. He’d understood it then—and was doubly glad of it now.

  "Who the hell was in my damned house?" Fury coated his words. “Thought Masterson said they’d caught a kid from the southern part of the county breaking into places?”

  “Apparently it wasn’t this guy. You just got lucky with someone else.”

  No shit.

  “I never would have left her there if I hadn’t thought they’d caught the guy.” He never should have left her alone.

  29

  Maggie heard Violet crying as Nate wheeled her out of the exam room. She could have walked, but she appreciated the ride.

  Nate was probably being overly cautious. She’d seen the way he was hovering over his own pregnant wife. She’d had a hard time not envying Perci that, even if it was driving Perci crazy.

  She and Clint…they hadn’t had that. Even if she had stayed five months ago, there was nothing that said they would have ended up like Perci and Nate. Far from it.

  More likely, they would have argued constantly over what was best for the baby, until they couldn’t stand each other, and she would have quit her job and moved back home to her brothers. Where she’d probably still be now.

  She wanted nothing more in the world than to throw herself into his arms right now and let him hide her from the world, just for a little while.

  To her surprise, Nate wheeled her straight into the waiting room, where Clint was pacing, holding an agitated Violet, a panicked look on his face. Violet was red-faced, and overtired. Maggie knew it with one look. That was something she could fix, at least.

  "Hey..." She reached for Violet instinctively. The baby came right to her, and Maggie snuggled her close. Violet was re-bonding with her father, but there was no denying that in the little girl’s mind, Maggie was her sense of security. "You didn't have to bring her here; Derrick waited for me. He could have driven me home."

  Not that she trusted her cousin would have. He had been making noises earlier about just hauling her back to his ranch where he and his brothers could take care of her. Protect her themselves. Under lock and key.

  She’d pointed out that that was kidnapping. Derrick had just kept grumbling.

  He’d also muttered about driving her to Martin's, and letting her own brothers be responsible for her. Even though they obviously hadn’t been doing too great of a job lately. He had plenty to say about that, too.

  Coming home to Masterson, she’d stepped right back into 1953.

  Heaven help her.

  Worse; heaven help the women her cousins finally married. Maggie hoped they were ready for a step back in time.

  Clint dropped down in front of the wheelchair. His left hand wrapped around hers, his right hand covered the baby. Her arms tightened gently around Violet. "You ok, Mags?"

  She nodded. There were people staring at them. This... this was the first time anyone had ever looked at them, seeing them as a couple.

  Together.

  Hard not to freak about that.

  "I will be. I'm tired, though. I need to..." Well, she didn't know what she needed to do. "I just..."

  He straightened and turned to the man behind him. Rex was asking questions of the sheriff’s deputy Derrick had called.

  He was probably the only friend Clint really had.

  Rex was a beautiful man. He was easily as big as Perci's husband, but not quite as muscled. Lean and strong. He had a dangerous, terrifying look about him.

  Violet settled into her lap and started chewing on her shoulder. Baby drool soaked into her blouse. She hated feeling unsettled like this. Awkward.

  Everyone was staring at her. Nate and Perci excused themselves, leaving her with Derrick and Clint and the commander.

  Maggie took the easy way out—she focused on taking care of Violet.

  Until Clint scooped his daughter off Maggie’s lap and plopped Violet into his friend's arms. "You can carry Violet, Weatherby. I'm going to get Maggie settled in the truck. Time I took my family home."

  Derrick stepped up, a glare on his handsome face. "I called your brothers, Maggie. They'
re on their way. They had to take the backroads in. The creek flooded out their road again. They want to check on you for themselves."

  She winced. The last thing she needed was those five baboons showing up here demanding she be taken somewhere they could protect her.

  Although…it was almost a tempting thought. Just let them take her home and tuck her into her childhood room and stay there forever.

  No. She wasn’t running away any longer.

  Six months ago, that was exactly what Maggie would have done. Ran. But she was the new Maggie now. She’d given Clint her word; and she wasn’t ready to leave Violet yet. Not yet. "Thanks, Derrick. For everything."

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Anytime. I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me to."

  She nodded. Tyler men had a habit of being way too overprotective. Especially of Tyler women. She'd missed them all so much. "I'm ok. I'm safe with Clint. I promise. Call my brothers. Let them know where I’m going and that I’m fine. I’ll call them tonight."

  Almost. She hadn't forgotten what Clint wanted, after all.

  Clint waited almost impatiently. When Derrick was gone, Clint looked back at Maggie. "You ready?"

  She'd already taken care of the rest of the paperwork. Derrick had handled what he could. Mel ensured all her Minions had excellent insurance, and Maggie had the card in her wallet.

  It was almost anticlimactic.

  But…she hadn’t forgotten what had happened. She would have to face it eventually. "I'm ready."

  "Let's get you home," Rex said, perfectly comfortable holding Violet—who was having fun poking him in the ears and eyes. "You can tell me what happened whenever you're ready. I’ll take your statement personally."

  She just nodded.

  The last thing she wanted to do was go back to Clint's place right now.

  But that was exactly what she was going to do.

  30

  Brrr. Masterson County was far colder in March than Texas. Brandt would have to get used to it.

  He would also have to get used to driving in it. He was going to need a sturdier truck, for one thing. This rental was great, but if he was going to make Masterson his home base—and he had decided that was exactly what he was going to do—he was going to have to get better transportation. One that didn’t dwarf him, for one thing. He was six-foot-six, after all.

  That was the first thing he took care of that morning. By the time lunch rolled around, he was the proud owner of a Ford F-150 Limited. He liked a big truck.

  He’d eventually have to find a house of his own. Brandt was a man who liked his creature comforts. He’d have to talk to Maggie; see if she knew of anything that would meet his needs. He’d want close to town, he thought. Easier to access food that way.

  Mostly, he just wanted to check on Maggie. He hadn’t seen her in a few days and was concerned.

  Like Powell had reminded him on the phone earlier—Maggie needed them to watch out for her. Especially with that cowboy of hers. Maggie was definitely naïve where men were concerned, after all.

  Brandt hadn’t met the cowboy yet. It was about time he did.

  See what the guy was really like.

  He had his suspicions—if Clint Gunderson was a good man, he wouldn’t have laid his hands on Maggie to begin with. Not without some seriously strong emotions behind it. Not every man was just after a good time with a woman.

  Brandt certainly wasn’t, even though he enjoyed the female species very, very much.

  He was building his empire now, so that when he found the woman he was meant to find—he would be ready. To give her the world.

  Her and any little Brandts that came along after. Barratts were family men, after all. It was a matter of Barratt pride.

  The diner beckoned. He turned his collar up against the snow and headed in that direction. A Talley granddaughter met him at the door. “Hello, Mr. Barratt, welcome back to Masterson County.”

  He checked the name tag discretely. The Talley women strongly resembled one another. “Thank you, Dusty. Does this snow ever end?”

  She gave him a smile identical to the little waif cousin of hers. She was definitely a beautiful woman, too. “Eventually.”

  “I’m starving. What’s on the menu?” He looked around the diner, checking the occupants out of habit.

  “Grandmother’s specialty, chicken cordon blue sandwiches, and potato wedges. I cut them myself this morning.”

  “Great.” Home cooked food, beautiful women, beautiful countryside. He could see making Masterson County his home.

  “I’m back, Dusty,” a quiet voice said behind her.

  Brandt turned. There she was. The little waif.

  He’d made a habit of looking for her whenever he stepped into the diner. Just because she intrigued him. He’d seen her a few times at the inn, but she seemed to prefer the diner over the inn. The kitchen, mostly.

  He didn’t know why he was keeping track of her. He just was.

  Tonight, though…the little waif had no business being dressed in a dress like that. It was green, like her eyes. And cut far too low. Revealed too much. Was far too old for her, though it was sedate compared to the dresses he’d seen women in his sphere wear. Mel had dresses that made this one look like a granny dress; she wore them just to make Houghton drool.

  But on the waif…No. The waif shouldn’t look like that. He fought the instant lust by reminding himself she was far too young for him.

  “Great. Run home and get changed. You can tell me about your date later. I have half an hour before I’m supposed to meet Matt at Martin Tyler’s ranch to help inoculate. I’ll fix you a plate.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll just have dessert.” Her cheeks pinkened beautifully. “Calloway ended up buying me dinner at R.J.’s already.”

  Her cousin gave a wicked laugh. “Oh, so things went well, then. Mr. Barratt, if you’ll follow me. Meyra, I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Brandt dutifully followed her, mind running over the implications of what the waif had said.

  He’d seen R.J.’s Tavern. It had had a For Sale sign in the window, and he’d taken a look at the building. It was a place that served drinks, you had to be twenty-one to enter. Maybe the waif wasn’t a teenager after all?

  If she wasn’t, she wasn’t much older than that.

  Brandt was sitting there trying to figure the little waif out, when Marin slipped into the booth across from him. She seemed to have attached herself to him, he thought. Probably for Maggie’s sake.

  He didn’t think she had a bit of a romantic attraction toward him. Brandt knew when a woman was interested in him, after all. “Marin…answer me something. You Talleys…how old and who are who.”

  “A bit of a strange question.”

  “Just humor me. I’m starting to get a bit confused.” He suspected she’d answer him honestly. “You are the eldest, right?”

  She shook her head. “Not even close. My sister Miranda is thirty now. She lives in St. Louis—”

  “And works for the FBI. I met her once when she was checking on Maggie.”

  Marin nodded. “Then Dixie. She’s the eldest of my cousins. She’s going to be twenty-nine soon. Darcey and I are within three months of each other. We’re twenty-seven.”

  “You don’t look it.” He had guessed she was around twenty-two or twenty-three. Apparently, he’d been wrong. He had met Darcey, too. He thought. “Darcey is the radio…”

  “Personality,” she said, laughing. “People love her voice, but Darcey is a bit shy. She’d rather be working at the inn, but does the radio because she interned there in high school and they asked her to fill in one night. They offered her a job after she graduated college. After us, we have a cousin who actually lives in your neck of the woods. Miranda was probably there visiting Charlotte when she stopped by to see Maggie. Charlotte lives in Value and works with the Finley Creek TSP, as part of the mobile forensics unit.”

  Well. He hadn’t known that. Small world. “I know the supe
rvisor of that unit. She’s married to my cousin Clay.”

  “Interesting. Charlotte looks a bit like my sister Meyra, just shorter.”

  Brandt thought for a moment. He’d met Bailey’s friends at the wedding. There had been a green-eyed woman with reddish brown hair, he thought. She’d had a man’s name… “Chuckie?”

  Marin laughed, beautifully, drawing attention her way easily. She…was a powerful woman. Terrifying, really. “She hates that name, but it’s stuck down there. Her father calls her that. He is the reason she moved down that way. He lives in Garrity, I believe.”

  “Go on. I know there are more of you.”

  “There are three more: Dusty, your hostess this evening. She works for the vet here in town part-time. She and Maggie were good friends in school and were in the same class. Her sister Daisy is less than a year younger, at twenty-three. You’ll find her mostly in the kitchens at the inn and at the diner, when she’s not teaching at the elementary school. As for the one you are really asking about—Meyra is the youngest. She’s twenty-three, a few months younger than Daisy. Plenty old enough to drink, if that’s what you were trying to figure out. She’s not a kid, Mr. Barratt. Just quiet and very shy. Growing up in the center of town like we did has been difficult for her. Well, Meyra and Daisy, and to some extend Darcey. But…we stick together.”

  He nodded, feeling heat his cheeks for the first time in a while. He had wanted to know about her sister.

  He’d thought she was just a kid, no more than nineteen or so. So he’d dismissed her from his mind.

  Mostly.

  She hadn’t looked like a kid today. He’d turned thirty two months ago. He had a good seven years on her, it made a difference.

  Marin laughed at him again. Brandt had the feeling she knew exactly what was going through his mind now.

  Dangerous.

  The women of Masterson County were downright dangerous. Each and every one of them.