Facing the Fire Page 14

  He had needed her that night. Just not in the way she had needed in return.

  Life lesson number 387 learned, apparently. Be careful what you wish for.

  By the time she’d figure out how she felt about that night, she'd been starting to realize that she had bigger problems to worry about.

  Like the baby they'd created.

  Maggie had come to terms with that months ago. Five months away hadn’t changed anything between them.

  Except that his archaic sense of honor was probably screaming at him to do the right thing.

  "I know you didn't. And you did the right thing. You got my baby, and yourself, out of here. Where you could be safe. I...if I lost you, or Violet, or this baby...I don't think I'd be able to go on. Not even for a moment. I failed you all. And for that I can never apologize enough."

  Oh, the big male idiot. He truly thought he was to blame for what had happened that day. He’d had almost six months to convince himself of that, too. To dwell on some perceived failing. Of course he had.

  What had happened the day she had left Masterson County had happened because a bad man made an even worse decision. Period.

  The big dork.

  "I... you're a good father, Clint."

  "Am I? I almost got her killed. Almost got you and our baby killed. I could have lost everything that day. I'm damned lucky that I didn't." His hands rose to cup her cheeks. "I am so damned lucky to have you in front of me right now. You are my world, Maggie Tyler. You and the babies we both love. Nothing is going to change that."

  "Clint..." She wasn't stupid. She knew what he was implying, what was in his face. His tone. "I... we'll figure out what to do about the baby between us. Then...once Violet is settled in, I'm leaving. I'm not...staying."

  She didn’t sound the least bit convincing now.

  Now…all she felt was confused.

  If someone had asked her if she was in love with Clint Darrin Gunderson she would have said without hesitation that she loved him fully. But eight months was a long time to spend thinking and alone.

  He'd wanted her. But that wasn't the same.

  "I'm going to change your mind. You belong here with me, with Violet. You and the baby. We...we can build a good life together. A decent life. And I’ll love you. Each and every day of my life, I will love you."

  She wanted a man to look at her the way Houghton looked at Mel.

  Like the world couldn't turn without Mel there to guide the sun.

  She didn’t know if Clint could do that.

  "I...don't think we should do anything to confuse the issue, do you? I'm going.

  I can’t stay here.”

  "I don't understand why you want to go," he said, bluntly. His hands dropped to rest on her waist—or what remained of it. His fingers spread, sending heat shooting through her everywhere. Heaven help her, Maggie wanted Clint to keep touching her forever. That was seriously dangerous thinking. "We've made a baby. Don't we owe it to the kid to do what we can to form a family for him—and for Violet? You're the only real mother she's ever known."

  "I know. And I hope...that once I'm settled in at my place in town, you'll let her visit with me. Or let me babysit sometimes." The pang of grief was real. She loved Violet so much—and to be with her, Maggie could almost see giving in to what Clint was saying. Just to get to be with the baby she loved so much.

  But it wasn't fair to pin a relationship between her and Clint on the baby and Violet's tiny shoulders. She wouldn’t do that to them.

  "I don't want to lose you. You, Mags. I've thought about you every night and every day and everything in between for five months. Hell, longer. I was obsessed with you. For weeks before that night, I swear I breathed you."

  "I thought about you, too. About what happened between us." She'd been almost inconsolable at first, but too afraid to let it show.

  "And...I came to the realization that what had happened had been a big mistake. One that I don't want to repeat.” As she said it, she saw him flinch. As if she’d struck him. “We...do what's best for the baby. And go from there. I'm not the same girl I was when I left here. Or when I slept—had sex with you that night. Far from it." Maggie tilted her head back. She was five-five.

  Clint was a good nine or ten inches taller than she was.

  She'd loved that about him before. How strong and sure he'd seemed.

  She'd been fooling herself. Thinking that she could build a life with him and Violet on his ranch. A nice, sweet, steady life. That he was a reserved, taciturn man who had just needed love to break through the hurt. Her naïveté had cost her. Had changed everything. But it had also given her the baby.

  Maggie would never discount that.

  Clint was still a man worth loving—if she would let herself be weak, she’d be throwing herself against his chest and doing just that.

  But she’d finally realized something she hadn’t ever before—Maggie was worth loving, too.

  All the way. The whole deal. The stuff books were written about.

  Real love. Not just something comfortable and easy Clint fell into.

  She wanted him to love her like that. It sank in that she wanted him to love her like that, too.

  She couldn’t settle for less than that. She just…couldn’t. It had to be the real deal, or nothing at all.

  Nothing steady and calm about that. Just familiar and easy. Right there for when Clint needed her, and nothing more. She couldn’t be an afterthought now.

  That was exactly what he’d made her feel like for weeks after they’d made the baby.

  No more.

  "I know. I know exactly what my stupidity did to you. I just hope with time, you’ll forgive me." He still cupped her cheeks. Maggie was almost afraid to move. Afraid of what he—or she—would do next. "And I find you more than fascinating now. Just like I did then. No, more. Because I know how it can be between us, now."

  A hot rush of sudden anger went through her. She'd not thought he would do this, would try to manipulate her. Not like this. She would have given anything to hear these words once. Now… "Don't lie to me. I know you don't...want...me. You're trying to take a complicated situation and make the best of it. I won't be your lemonade. Or your consolation prize."

  He stepped back, a puzzled expression in the blue eyes just like those Violet had inherited. "What in the blazes are you talking about?"

  “I know that night didn’t actually mean anything significant. You made that abundantly clear. I don't appreciate you lying to me now, just so that I'll give in and stay. To just make everything easier. No work involved, no stopping to think about what I need, just ‘Hey, here’s this woman, we made a baby, and hell, might as well make the best of it—since she’s already right here in front of me.’ I can’t do that. I just can’t. More—I won’t."

  There was more fire and bite in her tone than she had ever directed at him before.

  35

  Here there be serpents.

  Clint knew he was treading on dangerous ground here. She had a look of heat and fire and fury all rolled into one in her Tyler blue eyes. Fire that told him he was about to royally screw up.

  That she’d had months to convince herself that that was what he wanted. That her just saw her as convenient.

  Convenient? Hell. That was the last thing he believed. "It meant something. That night meant something to me. Hell, it meant everything to me. That’s why I panicked. I didn't realize just how much until you were gone."

  "After you learned about the baby." She shot him a level look. “You told me word for word: it meant nothing. You don’t remember? Now that I’m pregnant you’re trying to make the best of things. Trying to convince both of us that…that night was more than what it was.”

  It wasn't a question. Maggie really believed it.

  Hell, the woman probably thought the only reason he wanted her at all now was because of the baby. Damn it.

  It had never occurred to him that she'd feel that way. To his shame, he’d thought that since
she’d had feelings for him before—he doubted she’d have ended up in his bed to begin with if she hadn’t—that it would be easy for him to convince her to just…go along with what he was planning. He really was an idiot at times. “No. It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. I touched you that night because I was hurting too much to be able to stop myself. Because I had been wanting you all along. Weeks, months—every move you made, practically every breath you took drew me. Pulled me. Terrified me.”

  “After that night?” Skepticism was written all over her face.

  Clint took a step toward her, and then another.

  "Hell, no. Before. Before I ever touched you. No. I'm talking about before you left—but were right down the hall. It felt like you were a million miles away. And I knew it was my own damned fault. I didn't mean what I said that morning. About..."

  "Using me? You didn't put it into those exact words, but I figured it out pretty quick." Pride had her chin rising. Her eyes burning with blue flame when she stared at him.

  She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  He wasn’t going to lose her. He’d stopped being a coward the day she’d almost been taken from him. He was going to fight for the woman he loved.

  Even if it meant fighting the fears she’d had—fears he’d caused.

  Never would she have said these things before Finley Creek. Clint knew that. She would have blushed and evaded and been afraid of the confrontation.

  Maggie had changed.

  "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you." Never had he spoken truer words. “Ever.”

  "You did. But it was half my fault. I'd built up foolish dreams myself. But...we just have to focus on the baby. Babies. We have to do what is best for them first—and then focus on what we need to do for us. Separately."

  Maggie stepped out of his arms. Deliberately.

  Clint had never felt so cold. He wanted to wrap himself around her, just hold her where she couldn’t leave me again. “What if what’s best for all of us is for you and me to be together? Because I’ve thought of nothing else since the week you moved in. It took me a damned long time to get past the guilt. My wife had only been dead three months—and I was wanting you in my bed. Desperately. Dreaming about you instead of her. Tell me…what kind of man does that make me? I lasted another four months. That was it. I can’t give you up, Maggie. I just…can’t. I want you too damned much.”

  36

  Jasper stayed in the barn shivering like a fool for hours, two days after he’d tried to search Clint Gunderson’s place before.

  This was the stupidest thing he had ever done. It was risky and dangerous and someone could get seriously hurt.

  But...that last photo was seared into his mind. Jasper didn't need to pull it up on his phone. He knew exactly where it had been taken. At the church, where Cloe volunteered every Wednesday, running a donation room for children in the foster system. It was a project that had been her heart for more than three years now.

  She had been smiling at the camera. She'd known the photographer well enough to be smiling. With a slightly flirtatious look in his most impish daughter’s eyes.

  He hadn't been smiling when he'd read the attached message. Far from it.

  "Get me what I want or else you'll never see your beautiful daughter again. And I’ll do to her what they did to Janice."

  Kind of hard for him to misunderstand. It was a clear threat to his daughter.

  And he still hadn’t been able to figure out who was targeting him. He’d been searching for weeks—for both that single box of damning evidence and the one responsible for stalking his daughters.

  But he was close. He had to be getting close.

  Jasper wasn't stupid, nor inexperienced. He knew how these things tended to turn out.

  Usually nothing came of blackmail—except exposure. Embarrassment. Arrest, if there was something illegal involved.

  There was.

  His was a crime of omission. He’d known—and done nothing.

  He had never regretted anything more. He should have said something, done something years ago.

  If what he had done ever became common knowledge his children would despise him. He couldn't do that to them.

  He just couldn't.

  Or some son of a bitch would make good on his threats. Go after one of his three girls.

  Jasper would fight to see that never happened.

  Would do whatever he had to.

  Including search every inch of Clint Gunderson’s ranches over and over again until he had the answers.

  Jasper stayed where he was—and planned.

  37

  Clint rolled over and checked the clock. The idiot dog was barking like a lunatic.

  Three a.m.

  He’d be getting up in ninety minutes to get the day started, as it was. He’d stayed up late thinking about what had happened between him and Maggie—if he’d gotten two hours of sleep, it would shock the hell out of him.

  The woman had somehow managed to avoid him for another full two days after the intruder. Even when she’d be right there in front of him. She’d had friends and family in and out of his house, using them as a shield against him.

  Looking at him with big blue eyes that were both confused—and determined.

  Clint was starting to get desperate.

  He had to come up with a plan to show that woman just how much she mattered. Before it was too late.

  He was never going to give up. Not on Maggie.

  Kody was going crazy. The dog was usually a lazy lump this time of night, sneaking into Clint’s bed—or Maggie’s—to snuggle under the blankets. Whichever of them was the biggest softie usually let him in their bed at night.

  There was a doggie door in the mudroom.

  The dog could get himself in and out, if needed.

  But this…Kody didn’t act like this.

  Clint grabbed his gun, years of law enforcement making that instinctive.

  Kody wouldn’t be acting stupid without a reason. The dog was too smart for that. Clumsy as hell, but smart.

  Clint grabbed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He’d check on Maggie and Violet—then shut the dog up before he woke them.

  But first, he had the security cameras connected to an app on his phone. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look.

  Not after what had happened to Maggie. He wasn’t going to be stupid, or careless again.

  He’d made certain the cameras were activated before he and Maggie had tucked Violet in her bed last night.

  If something was going on, he’d be able to see it.

  The dog barked again.

  That’s when Clint smelled the smoke.

  38

  Harsh hands shook her awake. Maggie could hear Violet crying, could hear Kody barking.

  Could hear Clint calling her name. Cursing at her.

  Telling her to wake up. That he couldn’t carry both her and Violet.

  Maggie sat up as quickly as she could. “Clint? What’s going on?”

  “Fire. We need to get outside now.” He pulled her to her feet. With one hand. “Take her.”

  Maggie took the baby.

  “Shoes. I’ll need my shoes. And my bag.” She had her bag right there in the armchair. It was easier to go on autopilot.

  Terror robbed her of the ability to think beyond the moment. She slipped her feet into the shoes he grabbed for her, her arms tight on Violet. “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok.”

  “Come on. We’re going out the back.”

  She just nodded and stood. His hand was warm on her back, reassuring.

  There was smoke in the hall. Coming from the front of the ranch house. Where the family room and the study were.

  She could see the flames. See them devouring everything Clint had done while she and Violet had been gone.

  Destroying everything.

  Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked, and not just from the smoke.

  Her arms tightened around the baby girl she held as Viole
t screamed in terror.

  Clint got her and Violet to the back door, then called for the dog.

  Kody didn’t come.

  For a moment, Maggie was certain he was going to go back. To get to the dog. He loved that dog so much, too.

  “Kody, baby, come!” She yelled, too, terrified the dog would ignore the command. They couldn’t let him burn up in the fire. They couldn’t.

  But she didn’t want Clint to go back into the flames.

  Kody was in the hall, barking at the flames.

  “Get out. Take Violet up the drive.” Clint shoved his phone into her pants, the front of her underwear. “Go. I’ll get him out. Call 911.”

  Her terror increased tenfold.

  He couldn’t go close to the flames. He couldn’t.

  Clint jerked open the back door and yelled again.

  This time…Kody ran toward them both, barking the entire way.

  Maggie stumbled out onto the porch. It was burning too. Hardly anything was left of the right side of the house.

  Their bedrooms were all at the left of the house.

  She could hear the horses in the barn. Could hear them reacting to the smoke blowing in that direction.

  Thankfully, it was cold and wet out. The larger, newer, horse barn was saturated with melting snow, and was farther from the house.

  The four horses would be safe.

  But the side barn, the one closest to the house, was fully engulfed. No livestock was kept in there. Just junk. It was just junk in there. But the house…

  The dog pressed against her side, Violet was awake and crying. Maggie pressed Clint’s phone back into his hand. She just rocked the baby and rocked her.

  As the flames burned.

  Just kept burning and burning. Destroying everything.

  39

  Clint pulled them toward the far barn. Away from the house, away from the smaller barn that was fully engulfed.

  It stood fifteen feet from his back door and had been built by his great-grandfather to house his horse years ago. His grandfather hadn’t wanted to trek across the yard to get to the horse at night—he’d been a bit on the lazy side.