Facing the Fire Page 16
He was going to be stuck with the woman for another three hours minimum. And it was almost six a.m. now.
"I'll change and join you in a moment." Marin hugged Clint quickly. "You'll be ok here. Just rest. I have a bag of things you might be able to wear. Agent Knight left his bag the day Miranda was attacked. He told me to send it with Miranda next time she's here. He won’t mind lending them to you for the night. There are some sweats in it that should fit you, if you want to shower. It's in Miranda's closet. She's got pajamas that'll fit Maggie in that drawer. They're elastic waist and button top."
"Thanks again, Marin. We really appreciate it."
Just like that, she handled everything. Rex just stood there and watched.
Madam Zelda just somehow seemed to make things happen.
45
Clint showered. He was too damned tired to think, and too keyed up to sleep. Maggie was fitful on the bed. He'd wanted to take her to get checked out at the ER, but she'd refused. She'd just wanted to get Violet someplace safe. First responders had cleared Maggie and Violet and Clint—and even the dog—at the scene.
He’d gotten them all out in time.
If they needed anything, Marin’s cousin Dixie was an ER nurse, and Clint thought one of the doctors she worked with lived across the street. And Rhea Masterson, the woman who’d founded the hospital to begin with, lived a block from the hotel now. Help would be close.
The fear in Maggie’s eyes was something he would never forget. He spent the next several hours trying to figure out who could be responsible for this.
Violet fussed, looking at him with her big blue eyes. He lifted her quickly. She needed a bath; he handled that as quickly and quietly as he could, then redressed her in the pajamas that had been in the diaper bag in the rear of the SUV. Maggie had always carried a spare diaper bag, and they didn’t smell too heavily of smoke, thankfully.
By the time he was finished, Marin and Rex were back. They had bags of stuff for him and Maggie and the baby, and even a bag of dog food for the dog. Kody hadn’t come out from beneath the desk in the corner since he’d darted under there hours ago. Even the dog was traumatized.
Clint didn't say anything, as overwhelmed as he was.
Marin set her bags on the couch quietly, then reached for Violet, who was reaching for her. "I can take her back to my room, Clint. Keep her there today. Let you and Maggie rest."
Clint nodded. Violet had already fussed a few times, and he wanted Maggie to sleep. Violet was familiar with Marin again. She’d be ok. Just down the hall. "Thanks."
"No problem. Between us Talleys, she’ll be well taken care of." With that, she took his daughter, a bag of diapers and wipes, then glared at Rex until the other man got the idea and marched out of the room with a huff.
Just like that he was left in Miranda's bedroom, while Maggie slept right next to him. Clint climbed on the bed and leaned back against the pillow. There was no way he could sleep now.
Hell, it was almost eleven a.m. Nothing night about it.
He still hadn't processed how he felt about the destruction of the home he'd been remodeling for his family.
That ranch had been in Gunderson hands since the day it had been built back in 1877. Losing it was more of a blow than he would have expected.
Clive hadn’t been his real father—but Clive’s younger brother had been. He’d taken off before Clint was born.
He’d never known the man who’d abandoned him, but he had known his grandparents. And his great-grandfather. That man had been one of the only ones to ever give a damn about Clint.
He had never forgotten that.
He'd spent the last five months fixing the problems within the house itself, reprioritizing the work on the ranch to focus funds on the house. When not searching for the bastards responsible for his family’s absence in the first place, he’d been fixing that house.
For her.
He'd wanted a house Maggie could be proud of, a house where his two children could grow up comfortably. Safely. A place they’d be proud to invite their friends to play.
Happily.
He'd never be rich, but he would be able to provide whatever his family needed.
Now all that hard work was gone. He couldn’t even begin to process what that would mean for them.
He still had two other houses he’d inherited, close enough to the one that had burned. There were two smaller houses even further out, where ranch hands had lived.
With a few days’ work, he could provide adequate shelter, at least. He had money to get Maggie and Violet a room here at the inn while he did that, too. Or she could take Violet back to her brothers’ place for a while. There would be room for them there.
She and Violet would be well guarded, too.
But the modern updates he knew she would want—they would have to wait a while.
Until he could get them for her. He would. Clint made her a silent promise. Maggie would have everything he could give her.
As Maggie shifted on the bed next to him, he reaffirmed to himself the real truth.
That house wasn’t what was important. To either of them.
He had what was important. Who was important. If Maggie, Violet, and the baby were safe—he had everything he could ever want.
Maggie shifted again. Her blue eyes slowly blinked open. She looked around, her confusion on her face. "Clint?"
"Hey, honey. It's ok. We're safe here."
"I smell like smoke." Confusion cleared. Tears came next. "The fire...the ranch. Where's Violet? Where is she?"
She sat up, fear on her face, looking around for his daughter.
"We're at the inn. This is Miranda's room, remember?"
Maggie nodded, pulling in a calming breath. “Violet?”
"Marin has Violet today. So you and I can rest, and talk. Plan."
Maggie pulled herself up into a seated position. "I need a long shower first—and clothes."
"Marin and Rex took care of that. There are clothes for you there. I don't know if they are maternity clothes, but they're clean and dry."
Thirty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and pull-on pants, a broken look on her face.
Clint stood. He opened his arms. He just needed to hold her for a moment or two. If she'd let him.
Kody snuggled up to her side. Maggie knelt down awkwardly and hugged him. Buried her face in his fur. The dog stood patiently until she was finished, pressing himself close to her side. Damn doofus was scared, too.
Clint just waited.
Then she almost jumped to her feet and practically threw herself into Clint's arms. He tightened his hold around her. "It's ok, honey. It's ok. We're both ok, Violet's ok, and the baby is just fine. We're all just fine. Even the dog. We’re all ok.”
"Where are we going to live?"
We. He tried not to focus on that one small word. But…it felt right. He would fight to keep it.
"Hey, don't worry about that now. I have two other houses, remember? They need a little more work than the ranch house did, but they're both bigger than the one that burned. Plenty of room."
It was true. They were bigger. Almost as old, but…they were bigger. That might come in handy if she wanted another kid or two after this one came.
They were places he'd vowed never to live again—one had been Jay's, inherited from their grandmother, a foul woman Clint had never liked. The other had been the ranch where he'd grown up himself. Clint had far too many nightmares to go there. Jay…before he’d died, he’d spent some time and money fixing the place from their grandmother up quite a bit. It would do for Clint’s family now. "And I have land left for Violet from her mother's family. We can always build a house out there with insurance money. We'll find the right answer when we need to."
He'd have to pick one of the houses—probably the one in the best condition. Then he'd have to make certain it was safe for Maggie and the babies.
He wouldn’t have much time for that,
but if he had to, she had brothers who were building a contracting business.
Maybe they’d be willing to help him. At least give him the family rate.
If it was meant for her, they’d probably jump at the chance. And Rex. Rex had three brothers who had offered to help him out, if needed, too.
He’d make her a home. No matter what.
But first...he and Rex had an arsonist to catch. No one was going to threaten Clint’s family ever again. "I want you to take Violet back to your brothers' place, first thing this afternoon."
"Why? What are you going to do?" Maggie settled on the corner of Miranda's bed. "Clint? What are you planning?"
"Rex and I need to find the sonofabitch who did this. I need to know that my family is safe. I'd be happier if you took Violet back down to your friends in Texas, if you want. I have enough money in the bank to get you and Violet a flight this afternoon. See if that Barratt guy can go with you, take you back down there." Not his first option, but the other man could keep her safe.
"You want me to take her away again?" Maggie just stared at him like he was crazy.
Hell, yes. He wanted her to take Violet and run. What man wouldn’t? "I want the three of you as safe as I can possibly make you. That means either you go to your brothers’ place and they guard you, or you get out of the damned state. I can’t lose you, Maggie. I just…can’t. I can’t survive that. I know I can’t. I love you too damned much to lose you, too.”
Everything he felt was in those words. He just hoped she understood how much he meant it.
46
Maggie saw the fear in his eyes. Her breath started. She finally knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to press against him and just hold him—have him hold her. She didn't want to leave him.
Ever.
That he could have been killed tonight was starting to sink in. It terrified her. That man could have shot them right where they’d stood, watching their home burn. Done anything to them.
The baby kicked, reminding her that what she wanted didn't matter all that much now. What mattered was her keeping the babies safe. "I'll go to my brothers', but I want you to come with me."
"I can't do that."
"Why?" Stubborn male pride.
"Because if this guy is after me—I don't want them anywhere near you or Violet." Clint's hands rose to cup her cheeks. "I don't want the two of you ever hurt because of me. I love you, Maggie Tyler. Whether you believe that or not, it’s the truth. I love you. And I can't lose you again. I won’t. No matter what monsters I have to fight. No matter what it takes. I love you, more than I have ever loved a woman before. And that was what terrified me eight months ago. My feelings. And that’s why I closed myself off then. I couldn’t stand the thought of the hurt of losing you now. And then my damned nightmare came true because of that sonofabitch. I…have been living that nightmare every day for months. Until I found you again. I can’t go through that again."
Maggie almost fell over. There was no doubt in her mind now—Clint meant the words he'd just said. It was right there in his eyes. In the way his hands were clinging to her.
He was shaking against her. A strong man brought weak.
It was more than just the baby between them.
Maggie didn't stop to think. Maybe after everything that had happened made it impossible for her to think. She just stretched up as best as she could, until she could press her lips against his.
She just wanted him to hold her now. They’d figure everything else out later.
Right now, she just needed him to hold her. And she needed to hold him, too.
That was what she was going to do.
Clint fought not to just grab her and carry her to the bed behind them. He held her like she was glass, so afraid he'd hurt her. "Mag--"
"Just hold me." Her arms tightened around his waist. He felt their baby pressed between them. "I don't want to go away again."
"I don't want you to go, either. But I can't stand the thought of something happening to you or Violet. Even if there was no baby between us, I would still feel that way. I was frozen until that night. Dying inside. Hell, I could barely function with Violet. She needed more than I was then. All I could think about was work—because I could control it. Didn't have to feel. Until you."
"What are we supposed to do now?" Maggie asked. Clint just held her.
"I don't know."
Somehow he guided her back to the bed. He pulled her down onto his lap. "We talk. Decide what it is we both want. No more avoiding the hard conversations."
"I—have a plan. I want...my own life. My own career. I feel good about what I have planned. You can change everything about my plans, and that scares me. "
Because she didn’t trust him, or didn’t trust how she felt? Clint didn’t know, but they would find out.
"I know. I'll support you however I can. But don't ask me to give you up. We can work everything else out, but that. I won’t let you go, Mag. I just…can’t. I don't think that is something I can do." Clint dropped another kiss on her lips. He just waited for her to pull away.
But she didn't.
One small hand rose to clench his borrowed t-shirt. Clint tangled one hand in still wet red hair. He just held her close, grateful that he still could.
47
He smelled like soap and man. Clint. Maggie just wanted to press her face into his chest and let him hold her. Let him help her forget the events of the night before.
She hated herself for being such a wimp. She should be stronger than this. But she wasn't.
Maybe she wasn't like Mel.
Maybe she was still mousy, practically invisible Maggie. Nothing but a ball of hormones and fear. She told herself to toughen up, that she had to stick to her guns.
She couldn't let Clint change her mind. She had a plan. One she had been determined to stick to.
Stick to the plan. Clint was not the plan.
But his arms were warm and strong around her. And heaven help her, despite what she’d been telling herself for five and a half months, plus one week, his arms around her felt right. Perfect.
As if she’d returned to right where she belonged.
He was clutching her like he never wanted to let her go. Maggie rested her head against him. "What are we supposed to do now?"
"I don't know. You and Violet will go to your brothers' in a few hours. I'll have to deal with the WHP and Joel Masterson. I'm sure they'll have questions for the both of us. Hell, I'm probably a suspect."
"But you were with me."
"Because of our romantic involvement, we'll be doubted on that, too. Especially if someone wants to make trouble."
She shivered. "Why would someone still be after you?"
"Hell, I don’t know. I’ve wrapped up every case I was involved in. But Rex and I will be finding out. I’ll keep you safe, Maggie. You have my vow.”
"Maybe you need to leave, too? Sell everything and just get out of the state forever? What do you really have here now? Besides me and the baby?"
"You, Violet, and the baby. My home. My family history. Violet’s heritage."
"I just don't know if that is worth it. I...can't stand the thought of someone hurting you." Her hands tightened on him. Clint couldn’t be hurt.
She couldn’t even stand the thought.
"I know. That's exactly how I feel about you, Maggie. The five months you were gone I couldn't breathe. I'm not sure how I made it through. Knowing you were out there and I couldn't get to you...couldn't touch you, couldn't hold Violet...that is my worst nightmare. It will always be. You are my home. Not some sticks-and-bricks in Masterson County."
“Come to Texas with me. Let Rex find who did this." Even as she said it, she knew the truth. Clint would never hide himself away behind stone walls. Not him.
"I can't run. I need to finish this. It may have something to do with Clive, or it may have something to do with my own cases. But I can't leave it unfinished. If I do, I'll always have the fear that it wasn't finished. That
someone slipped through the cracks. That we won't ever be safe. We can’t live watching over our shoulders all the time. That’s no kind of life for you and the kids.”
His hand dropped to cover where their son rested.
She just nodded. She understood. None of the men she knew would just run away, either. No. They'd stand against any threat. No matter how afraid they were.
Clint would be no different. No matter how terrified it made her. "Just be careful. I...we...need you."
"I promise you, Maggie Tyler, no matter what: I am going to be there for you every minute of every day. Until the day they put me in the ground sixty, seventy years from now. I will be yours. Forever.”
48
Brandt had spent the last two days bouncing around the state, checking out old ranches and foreclosures wherever he could find them. He’d found six that would meet his original plans. He’d called it a hunt well done.
Like all Barratt men who had come before him, he was a hunter at heart.
His first stop back in Masterson was the diner. He was starving.
Brandt had never eaten better food than he’d found at Masterson Diner. Even the best chefs Houghton could hire couldn’t compete with that woman and her bevy of gorgeous granddaughters.
He was one of the first ones through the doors. Breakfast smells assaulted him. Brandt was led by his stomach more times than not in these kinds of situations. And he was starved.
The hostess on duty was none other than his favorite little waif.
She was as sweet as cotton candy, and Brandt wouldn’t deny it—he found her fascinating. Even more than her far more outgoing sister and cousins.
It wasn’t anything he could explain.
He…couldn’t stay away. He also couldn’t help but wonder what she’d do if he just scooped her up some day and carried her away.