Facing the Fire Read online

  He’d have to keep that in mind.

  31

  Clint was going to hover worse than all five of her brothers combined. And that was saying a lot. Her brothers had taken a short cut that bypassed the rear side of the hospital and led right to Clint's properties.

  They had been waiting for her long before Clint turned in the drive. Maggie knew what happened next wasn't going to be pretty. "Clint...just let me handle them."

  "You think they’ll cause a problem?”

  "Once they realize I am fine, they'll go away." She hoped. Michael was standing on Clint's porch with that beyond determined look he got when he was furious. Michael could be harder to deal with than Martin at times, when it came down to it. "Maybe."

  "They are just concerned," Clint said. "I am half-tempted to send you and Violet off with them, anyway. Until we figure out who this guy is."

  Maggie had told Clint and Rex exactly what had happened in the hospital parking lot. Rex had recorded her statement on his phone. Then the two men had discussed what of Clive's it could possibly be that the man was looking for.

  And they had called Joel again. Rex had had a frank discussion about what Maggie had told him with the local sheriff—Joel covered the county, but Rex was the WHP commander of the region. They worked together as a courtesy occasionally. Maggie had just rested her head—still aching—against the back of the seat and tried to rest. At least a little.

  She refused to let herself be afraid of Clint's ranch. Not any longer. It was just a place. Even if some bad things had happened there, it was just a place.

  There was worry in his blue eyes when he looked at her. Because he cared. He parked the truck, leaving Violet sleeping in her car seat for the moment.

  Then Clint came around to her side of the truck and opened her door. Warm hands went around her almost waist, and she let him lower her to the ground. Let him steady her.

  And then...she was getting exactly what she wanted. Clint's arms wrapped around her so tightly she could barely breathe. The baby went crazy, kicking against his father as if he knew who it was holding her. "I'm so sorry I left you alone."

  Maggie's arms went around his waist. Her fingers fisted on the soft flannel of his shirt. "I'm ok, Clint. I promise. He just...scared me mostly. He didn't hurt us. Not really. We're ok. We’re ok.”

  The man was shaking against her. She could feel the tremors running through him. "I can't lose you, Mags. I lost Amy and I can't lose you, too. You just mean too much to me. I can't even stand the thought."

  Maggie pulled back slightly, then stretched up on her toes. She ignored how awkward it felt. Her arms slipped around his neck and she pressed her lips to his.

  In that moment, she never wanted to leave Clint again.

  32

  Rex heard her laugh the instant he stepped into the diner. He scowled, even as he immediately sought out Madam Zelda.

  There she was—with a guy nearly as big as Rex was himself, who had a ridiculously sophisticated and polished aura about him.

  His scowl deepened.

  She was laughing, happy with the man. Looking far too beautiful for Rex’s peace of mind.

  Flirting? He couldn’t tell from where he was. It wouldn’t surprise him at all. She liked to get men all tangled up in her.

  “Hello, Commander Weatherby,” a quiet voice said behind him. He turned. The lunatic’s younger sister stood there, looking beautiful and alluring in her own particular way.

  Talley women were far too beautiful for a single man’s sanity. He wasn’t about to admit that, though. “Hello, Meyra, I thought I’d grab some dinner before I head back out to my own place.” He had forty-two acres just fifteen miles northeast of Clint’s main place. He’d bought those forty-two acres because sometimes a man needed a peaceful place to think.

  After the things Rex had seen on the job, he needed that peace. He wasn’t going to ever do anything with that land, but it was his. His peace.

  As far from downtown Masterson—such that it was—as it could get.

  “Meatloaf is the special tonight, too.”

  “Good. That was the best meatloaf I’ve ever had,” he gave her a genuine smile. He had liked her a great deal when he’d been at Clint’s the last time. She wasn’t as awkward as people thought. Just quiet. Peaceful. In ways her older sister often overshadowed.

  He was half-convinced Madam Zelda did it purposefully, drawing attention to herself—to protect. He had to admire that, at least.

  He had three younger brothers of his own, after all.

  Meyra led him to a table right next to her damned sister.

  Marin turned and looked at him, watched every move he made. “Well, Commander Weatherby, fancy meeting you here. This is my turf, you know. Didn’t think you’d be brave enough to step inside. Since I’m so terrifying.”

  “Too damned bad. You’ll just have to learn to share.” The woman was enough to have him swallowing his tongue. That blouse she wore—it was cut far too low. No doubt the playboy she was with was enjoying it. “Who’s your friend?”

  He wasn’t local to the county. Rex was sure of it. A guy like this…would stand out.

  “Commander Rex Weatherby, meet Mr. Brandt Barratt, of the Texas Barratts. He’s here looking at ranches to build an agribusiness of his own. I’m keeping him company.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the younger man said, smoothly.

  Rex didn’t like him. On principle alone. He knew about the Barratts, and he knew that was where Maggie had been hidden all this time.

  And this guy had followed her home.

  Loyalty to his closest friend had him hating the guy, too.

  “Relax, Commander, Brandt and Maggie are just good friends. He’s not here to step on Clint’s toes.”

  “Marin, Daisy wants you in the kitchen to help her lift the potatoes when you get a chance,” Meyra said.

  “I’ll be in in a moment. And Mey, I want to know all about Calloway Grady and what happened today. Going to go out with him again?” The lunatic sent a smirk at her companion that Rex didn’t understand.

  Meyra gave a smile she definitely shouldn’t have ever possessed. “I just might.”

  Dangerous. Talley women were definitely dangerous creatures.

  As Barratt excused himself to hit the restroom, Marin turned to Rex.

  “Ok. What’s eating at you? Something’s happened, hasn’t it? To Maggie and Clint and the babies. Tell me.”

  “How in the three hells did you know?”

  “Easy. There’s a black spot in your aura. Right there.” She brushed one hand against his left shoulder. The touch practically burned. “It got worse when Maggie was mentioned. Believe it or not—just is she going to be ok?”

  “She’ll be just fine.”

  But trouble had a way of finding Maggie now, though.

  Real trouble.

  And Rex had to stop it.

  Before Clint lost what mattered most.

  33

  Brandt stepped onto the porch of the Gunderson ranch, taking in the operation with a single glance. He liked what he saw. Someone was putting some serious effort into the place. It was decent. If it was for sale, he'd offer top dollar. But Maggie had told him the place had been in her cowboy's family for generations. Gunderson probably wouldn't ever sell it, unless it started being a loss overall. Brandt doubted it was.

  But he wasn't there on business, so he just had to turn that part of his brain off.

  He wanted to check on Maggie. Brandt knocked on the door.

  A dark redheaded man with fire in his blue eyes answered. "Who the hell are you?"

  "You Clint?"

  "Michael Tyler. You?"

  "Brandt Barratt," Brandt was used to tense situations. The guy wanted to punch someone. Brandt doubted it would be him—most men hesitated when faced with a six-foot-six three-hundred-pound man like Brandt. "I'm a good friend of Maggie's from Texas. I am here to check on her."

  "She's inside." The man moved out of Brandt's way. "
I'm her brother."

  "Of course. She's mentioned you several times. You're the one who runs the family ranch?" Brandt held out his hand. The other man shook it, but it was obvious he was upset about something.

  Brandt had a feeling he knew what it was. If someone had broken in and knocked his pregnant sister down when she had been all alone, he would be beyond furious. He'd be flat out pissed.

  And ready to go hunting.

  Maggie was in the kitchen, with four other men who all resembled her and Michael in some way. Brandt crossed the kitchen to her quickly. Violet was in her high chair and started yelling when she saw him. "Ban-Ban!"

  "Hi Baby Vi." He kissed the baby’s little forehead, like he always did when he first saw her. But Maggie was his focus. "Hey, kid. I heard what happened. Decided to come see you for myself. See if you need a ride right back to Texas. If so, I'll call Houghton and get the jet here within a few hours."

  "Like I was telling my brothers...I am just fine. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm tired of always running away. It's time I faced my demons. right here. Clint and I...we have some things to work out between us. I can't do that if I run away again."

  Brandt wanted to protest, but there was a determined look in her eyes. One he'd seen before. If Maggie wanted to stay—well, Brandt was there to see that was what happened.

  But Gunderson needed to do a better job of keeping her safe. Brandt saw the black eye for himself.

  And he hadn’t missed the patrol car parked at the end of the drive.

  34

  Maggie was still trying to figure out how she felt about Clint two days after the intruder had knocked her down.

  Brandt had distracted her from what had happened—and had acted as a good buffer between her and Clint. Rex had come back after dinner, with a crime scene tech. Even though everyone knew the possibility of getting an ID through DNA was very slim.

  The attacker had worn gloves. She doubted his DNA had gotten anywhere. Rex had overseen the entire process, while glaring at Brandt.

  Marin had shown up two hours into the process, just adding to the fray.

  Rex was hard at work tracking Maggie’s attacker.

  He hadn’t found anything in the two days since the attack.

  Clint was staying armed.

  Rex and Joel had both doubled patrols in their area, though it was still an hour or two between passes by.

  It was as good as it was going to get until they had the man in custody.

  She wasn’t going to let herself live afraid. Nor was she going to let herself run.

  Even though that was exactly what Clint wanted her to do. He hadn’t come out and said it.

  Clint had warmed up to Brandt, once he realized the other man was serious about building his empire.

  Brandt had helped Clint run her brothers off. That had probably bought him Clint’s loyalty forever. Her brothers were definitely not happy with her choices now.

  Whereas Maggie had found herself in Finley Creek, Brandt was looking for himself in Masterson. Funny how it had worked that way.

  She was thinking about the other man when she slipped into Clint’s room, the half-full laundry basket balanced awkwardly at her side. Marin had stuck around long enough to do all the laundry and load the dishwasher and sweep and mop the floors.

  She’d sung horribly off-key while she’d done it. Maggie suspected she’d done so—Marin was a highly gifted singer—simply to get beneath the ever-glowering Rex’s skin.

  She hadn’t been able to just sit around the house while Clint was out doing what it was he did, so Maggie had helped when Marin would allow it.

  Maggie refused to act as his housekeeper, either. But she’d had to do something.

  She’d give him his laundry and hightail it back to her room. See if Mel was online and talk to the other woman about hot, confusing men to see if Mel had any insight into how to deal with Clint.

  Any insight would come in handy right now.

  A sound behind her had her whipping around.

  Just as Clint stepped into his room, hands working on his shirt buttons.

  Maggie stared at the strong, broad chest as it was revealed one button at a time. Oh, my. Beautiful.

  Clint had always seemed like the most beautiful man in the world to her. She'd certainly seen more handsome men—Finley Creek had introduced her to a lot of sophisticated, successful, beyond hot men—but Clint had always been the one to catch her attention. To make her heart pound and sweat slick her hands. To make every sense and nerve she had go on full alert. "What...what are you doing? I—"

  Clint had one of the most perfect male chests she’d ever been privileged to see. And she’d seen a fair few—even Hunter Louis Clark, up close and personal, currently considered the sexiest man in Hollywood. But Clint…

  She wanted to touch.

  Every bit of her was tuned to him like a magnet. Eight months pregnant or not. A curl of heat went through her. She fumbled the basket stupidly.

  Maggie wanted to touch. That hadn’t changed in eight months. If she hadn’t found him physically attractive all those months ago, this kid wouldn’t be kicking her right now.

  She wasn't exactly super experienced—Masterson was a small county, and it seemed like she was related to half the eligible guys—but she hadn't found her way into Clint's bed a virgin.

  What she was supposed to do now wasn't exactly all that clear, either.

  For a moment she wished Violet would wake. Call out for her.

  Anything to get Maggie’s feet to move before her hands did something stupid.

  "I need to take a shower. I'm not in your way, am I?"

  Maggie just shook her head.

  In her way? No... distracting her—that was more accurate. By far. "I'm...I'm ok. I was just...Looking for..."

  "Something in the bathroom?" He shot her a mild look. His hand was still unbuttoning. As if it didn’t bother him that she was there at all. As if him getting naked in front of her was perfectly normal…

  Hell, the top button of his jeans were undone.

  She almost swore he was taunting her on purpose. Like he was planning something now.

  Maggie forced herself to look into his blue eyes. "I was just—your laundry got put in with mine. I think Marin got a bit confused. I wanted to bring it to you before I head to bed."

  "Thanks." He took the basket from her hands. "I don't want you to think you have to clean up after me, though. I know...that's not what you want to do any longer. And you should still be resting."

  "I’m fine now. It isn’t what I want to do. I…am not made to be a housekeeper permanently. I learned that in Texas. I’m good at what I do for Mel. I want to keep doing it. Keep helping people." Now it was just her babbling. Trying to distract herself from the naked chest in front of her. Damn him. He was doing this on purpose. "I'm not cleaning up after you. Just...helping out. I know you've been busy."

  Sequestered in his home office with Rex, talking about things Maggie just didn’t want to know about. Trying to determine what from Clive’s files would have resurfaced to cause problems now.

  Maggie just wanted to pretend that what had happened had been a fluke.

  She knew better than that.

  The intruder had known her name, known which cousins resembled her the most, and known that Augie, Junie, and Em were alone out there clear at the bottom of the county. He’d made certain to point that out.

  She’d gotten the message. She did anything stupid and he would go after her family. Her cousins—who were the most vulnerable.

  One good thing had happened from Perci and Derrick knowing what had happened to her—every Tyler in the county was now on the alert.

  And everyone was looking for an older man in a dark orange truck.

  She fought a shiver. She would never forget how she had felt, knowing she knew the man—but not being able to say his name.

  The baby gave a big kick—big enough to have her saying "Oh!"

  Clint immediately stepped tow
ard her, his hands out. "You ok? The baby?"

  "Is fine. Just woke up and is moving a lot." She pressed her hand to her left side, where the kicking was still going on. On impulse, she grabbed Clint’s hand and pressed it to the spot where their son was awake. "He...he is a bit of a night owl. Loves to keep me awake later in the evening. That’s when he’s most active.”

  He shot her a look of confusion. "He does?"

  Maggie nodded. "He has a pattern. Dr. Kaur—in Finley Creek—said that was normal. He just likes to sleep during the earlier part of the day."

  "I...didn't get to see or know all this with Violet. Amy was already sick and we were so focused on that, and on what the pregnancy was doing to hinder her recovery...Hell, Maggie, all I really remember about then was fear."

  "I know." Miranda had told her what it had been like for Clint. Compassion and hurt for him had her stepping closer. "But this pregnancy—it's healthy, Clint. Our baby is perfectly ok. I promise. Even after what happened today."

  "I...worried every night for five months that you were ok. You. Not just the babies. I hated not knowing where you were, and whether or not you needed me. It was a living nightmare. It turns out that you didn't need me. And I'm so damned grateful for that, grateful you and Violet and our son were safe when I couldn’t be there to protect you, with people who cared about you; but...I want you to need me now."

  Maggie just gawked at him. She didn't know what to do here...not at all. The emotion in his blue eyes was reaching out and crushing her heart. "I'm ok. I was homesick at first. But I had Violet to take care of. I am so sorry I just took her and disappeared, I never..."

  Hard hands went around her—so gently she almost cried. Clint was a strong man, but he had never been rough with her in any way. He'd touched her like she was made of glass that night they'd spent together. Like she was fragile and beautiful and so damned precious to him.

  She hadn't known it had been his late wife's thirtieth birthday. Or she would never have let it go past that first kiss.