Son of a Gun (15 page)

If the sheriff booked her and checked her fingerprints, he could quickly ascertain her identity. Everyone who worked for the ATF had their fingerprints in the database.

The records would show that she’d been kidnapped. Supplying the media with her name and location was tantamount to drawing Caudillo a map straight to her.

But the thought of Damien’s abandoning her went deeper. It seemed to cut to her very soul. She had bared it all last night. Rejection now was a rejection of her as a person.

“How about some of this raspberry jam for your toast, Emma? A friend who owns a quaint teahouse in Dallas makes it, and it’s delicious.”

Carolina’s offer pulled her back into the moment. “In that case, I should definitely try some.”

“I hope you don’t mind a light breakfast,” Carolina said as she passed the jam. “It’s become a tradition around here on Sunday, since I teach a Sunday School class and have to be at the church quite early.”

“No complaints from me,” Emma said. “Yogurt, fruit, cereal, toast, juice. All my favorites.”

“I play the organ for the service,” Sybil said, making sure she wasn’t outdone by Carolina. “I’ve missed less than a dozen times in the past ten years. And that’s with this bad hip.”

“That’s very impressive,” Emma said. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

“She plays too loud,” Pearl said. “Makes my hearing aids vibrate.”

Sybil rolled her eyes at her mother’s comment. “No one else complains about the volume. At least I use my talents for God.”

“So do I,” Pearl added with a sly smile and the familiar mischievous twinkle in her wrinkle-rimmed eyes. “I’m the reverend’s clock watcher. I sit in the second pew, where he can’t miss me. I start tapping my watch when it nears noon. I’ve told him if he can’t get it said by twelve, then save it for next week.”

“And that’s the uncondensed version of why we’re forced to starve on Sunday mornings,” Tague joked as he retrieved the coffeemaker from the counter and refilled the empty cups.

Carolina wiped her mouth on her napkin. “You’ve never gone hungry in your life, Tague Lambert.”

“Except on Sunday mornings,” Durk said, joining the teasing. “By the way, does anyone know what Damien is up to this morning? I took an early-morning ride on Ranger and noticed his truck parked at headquarters. He’s working kind of early for a Sunday morning.”

“He’s speaking to the Cattlemen’s Association tomorrow night,” Tague said. “He’s probably working on the speech.”

Carolina stood and started clearing the table. “He has a lot on his mind. Maybe he just needed some time alone.”

Pearl entertained them through the remainder of the meal with stories from the past. The rest of the family had likely heard them a million times before, but they all laughed and joined in as if they were hearing them for the first time.

The Lamberts were an amazing family—which only added guilt to Emma’s growing angst about drawing them into danger.

“So who’s on the schedule for supper tonight?” Durk asked.

“No one.” Carolina stood and started gathering dishes. “The Huberts and the Gaylords were supposed to drive out from Dallas, but we decided to postpone for a week due to weather conditions. Of course, I didn’t realize then that the temperature was going to climb back into the fifties today.”

“Having friends and neighbors over for Sunday suppers at the Bent Pine Ranch is another tradition,” Tague explained to Emma. “Only with that one you get real food.”

“I need to make a few calls,” Durk said, “but let me know when you’re ready and I’ll drive you to church. The roads may still be icy in spots.”

“Aren’t you going with us?” Sybil asked.

“Not this morning.”

“Yeah, count me out, too,” Tague said.

“What are you two up to?” Carolina asked.

“Damien called a meeting. He said for right after breakfast, but since he hasn’t shown up, he may have forgotten about it.”

“He didn’t mention a meeting to me,” Carolina said.

Durk shook his head. “I don’t think it’s company related.”

“He’s probably planning a hunting trip,” Tague said. “Grandma, you should go hunting with us.”

“I might just do that, young man.”

Everyone laughed except Emma. Her mind remained on the upcoming meeting and the fear that it had to do with her. She stood and gathered the rest of the dishes. “Let me finish up in the kitchen for you, Mrs. Lambert.”

“Sunday dishes are my job,” Sybil said, “and it won’t take me but a jiffy. Why don’t you go and take a few minutes for yourself before Belle wakes up.”

“She’s sleeping awfully late this morning,” Carolina said. “Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Actually she started her day before any of us. She was up at six for a bottle and drained it dry. She’s napping now, but I left the door open so I’ll hear her if she cries.”

Emma began to put away the jams and butter.

“We’d love to have you and Belle join us for church if you’re interested,” Carolina said. “I have a pair of dress slacks and a blouse that should fit better than the jeans and sweater I gave you yesterday. They’re a little tight on me.”

“Thanks for the invitation, but not today,” Emma said. Fortunately, Damien walked in the back door before she had to explain further.

“You missed breakfast,” Pearl said, her tone playfully scolding.

Damien raked his fingers through his hair, but the attempt to smooth the dark, thick locks failed. Instead it left him looking devilishly rakish, and her traitorous pulse spiked. It should be impossible to worry that he’d betrayed her and still feel sensual awareness.

“No problem about breakfast,” Damien said. “I’ll grab something later. Right now I have something to discuss with Emma.”

“Guess that’s our signal to clear out,” Tague said.

“No, you guys finish your coffee. Emma and I can talk on the porch and then I’ll get back with you.”

“I just offered to help with cleanup chores,” Emma said.

“The dishes can wait.”

Whatever was on his mind was serious. Her insides quaked a little as she followed him to the porch.

“So is this where the cowboy rides away?” she asked, trying for nonchalance but hearing a shaky quiver in her voice.

His eyebrows arched. “If you mean that the way it sounds, then the answer is a resounding no. I told you I’d see you through this. I don’t go back on my word, Emma. Not unless I find out you’re plying me with more lies.”

“Everything I told you last night was the truth.”

“Good. Now I need you to tell me more about Enmascarado Island.”

“Like what?”

“The layout of the house, docks, outbuildings and any other structures you noted while you were there.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m flying to Miami tonight and on to Enmascarado first thing tomorrow morning.”

Chapter Eight

Emma dropped into one of the rockers, temporarily shocked speechless by Damien’s unexpected announcement.

“Tell me I heard you wrong,” she said when her brain stopped even trying to process the ridiculous statement.

“You heard me right. He has to be stopped. It’s going to take proof of his breaking the law to do that.”

“And I suppose you think you’re going to single-handedly fly down there, snoop around beneath the nose of one of the most evil men alive, get your proof and walk away from that island alive.”

“Now, that would make a great Rambo movie. But that’s not what I had in mind.”

“What do you have in mind, Damien? Because this sounds like a suicide mission to me.”

“Rest assured it isn’t. I’ll do a couple of flybys to scope out the place.”

“Why can’t you just let me handle this my way, Damien?”

“Refresh my memory on that plan.”

“Once I’m settled, I’ll send anonymous messages to the ATF, the CIA and the FBI. They’ll check it out and go after Caudillo. They have the manpower to do it.”

“Right, and anonymous messages always go right to the top of their priority list. And if they do check him out, they may not even discover that he deals in illegal arms, much less that he kidnaps and tortures innocent women.”

“Why do you always have to make so much sense?”

“You’d come to the same conclusions if the bastard hadn’t done such a number on you.”

Her nerves jumped into panic mode. “I knew this would happen, Damien. I knew from the first that telling you the truth would eventually put you in harm’s way.”

“I won’t be in danger, Emma. It’s just a flight. Even Caudillo doesn’t shoot down planes flying over his island.”

“Call the sheriff, Damien. I mean it. Call him now. I’ll confess everything if you’ll promise to let me walk away.”

“I can’t do that. Besides, you could very well be right about Caudillo’s connections. I don’t see any other way he could remain under the law-enforcement radar.”

“Which only makes my point more valid. Getting involved puts you in danger. This isn’t your responsibility, Damien.”

“That’s where you and I have a difference of opinion, Emma. If I see a cow stuck in the mud, I don’t stop to check the brand before I pull it out.”

“But your neighbor doesn’t shoot you.”

“Good point. But I still have to do what I have to do. I don’t plan to do anything stupid, Emma. I’m just getting a lay of the land.”

“Fine. If there’s no danger involved, you won’t object to my going with you.”

Damien shook his head. “You’ve been through enough, Emma. I can’t let you torture yourself that way.”

She knew he was right. Seeing the island would make her relive the misery and fear. But it wasn’t as if she’d made giant strides in putting them behind her anyway.

“I can point things out as we fly over,” she said, “like the storage building where he keeps the crates of weapons. I saw that the night I escaped.”

“You’ll be better off here at the ranch with Belle,” he insisted.

Belle. She’d almost forgotten she had a baby in her care. “I’ll ask your mother if she can watch her.”

Damien hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “The sheriff said for you not to leave the area.”

“Actually, he didn’t. He put you in charge of knowing where I am at all times. And you gave him your word that you would. The only way you can guarantee that is if you take me with you.”

Damien took her hands in his. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“Then let me go on record as saying I think this is a big mistake.”

Her heart was still reeling from the feel of her hands inside his when he let go and backed away.

“I’ll go make the needed arrangements with my brothers,” he said. “You can talk to Mother, but I can pretty much guarantee that no matter what she had on her schedule for this afternoon and tomorrow, she’ll cancel to stay home with Belle.”

“What reason will I give her for going away overnight?”

“Tell her we’re making a fast trip to visit your parents. She’s big on family. She’ll approve of that.”

That would change fast if Carolina ever found out the truth about Emma’s parents. But then there was no reason that she ever would.

Emma might be tremendously attracted to Damien, but they were not only from different worlds, they were from alternate universes. He’d gotten the silver spoon. She’d come closer to having a used Popsicle stick stuck in her mouth.

He had the perfect family. She had…

Nothing.

“On second thought, let’s go with checking the references of a man who might be Belle’s father,” Damien said.