Her Cowboy Protector (7 page)

Her thoughts turned to Niall. Her gut clenched in panic. What if something happened to him? What if it was El Alacrán out there? Oh, God. She started to reach for the door knob but stopped. No. Niall had put her in the pantry for a reason. He wanted her tucked away some place safe. Leaving the spot where he'd shoved her would put him at further risk.

Cruz wiped her face and inhaled a steadying breath. She had to get it together before Niall returned—and he would, she was sure of that. Eyes closed, she whispered a soft prayer for her cowboy protector.

5
Chapter F
ive

A pistol clenched in his right hand, Niall slipped out the kitchen door and onto the porch. The dry night air warmed his damp skin. He'd been drying off when he'd heard the loud
thunk
hitting the front door. He knew the normal sounds of wildlife around his place. That wasn't one of them.

He'd jumped into the pair of clean boxer briefs he'd dropped on the counter before his shower, grabbed his weapon from the bedside drawer and hurried over to Cruz's room. Finding her bed empty hadn't done his heart any good. The whine of kitchen drawers had given away her position.

With the stealth of a veteran operator, he'd descended the stairs, taking a quick note of the lights on his office, and slipped through the dining room into the kitchen. The sight of Cruz's shadowy form clutching a knife had filled him with a strange sensation of fear and heartache. This wasn’t the life he wanted for her. She should have been safe in her bed, dreaming of nurseries and baby showers, not bravely waiting for her attacker to burst through a door.

The knowledge that he'd driven her downstairs into harm's way burned him. This was his fault. No two bones about it. She'd fled the safety of her bedroom because of his mad outburst. God, she'd probably been sitting in front of that damned window in his office with her back to whoever lurked on the porch.

Jaw steeled, he inched around the corner of the house. He scanned the porch and surrounding yard. Nothing. Everything was eerily quiet and still. Niall relaxed a bit.

The creep had probably fled while he'd tucked Cruz into the pantry. He immediately dismissed the possibility of The Scorpion being their nighttime stalker. That man wouldn't have made the mistake of knocking into the front door or alerting Cruz to his presence. He would have fired through the window and taken her out with the ease of a practiced assassin. He definitely wouldn't have fled into the night without finishing the job, not a second time.

Niall's bare feet padded silently down the porch. He swept his gaze side to side, looking for any clues. There wasn't much moonlight and the porch light had been flicked off when he'd gone up to bed around midnight. He'd have better luck in the morning or if he returned with a flashlight. For now, he'd check the perimeter and establish the safety of the house.

When Niall reached the front door, he went rigid. A hunting knife stabbed through a pair of baby shoes stuck out of the door. He stared at the offensive warning for a long time. Rage boiled in his veins. What kind of asshole got off on threatening a pregnant woman?

He jerked the knife from the wood and yanked the tiny shoes free from the blade. There was just enough moonlight for him to see the bright pink stripes. Wrong gender, he thought crossly. The shoes were so small on his palm. Suddenly it hit him. Cruz's newborn son would have feet tiny enough to fill them. He'd be so helpless and fragile.

The need to protect Cruz and her son surged through him. The idea that someone wanted to harm such an innocent little life left him reeling. Some things were precious and Cruz's child was one of them. It would be a cold day in hell before any man put his hands on Felix.

Gritting his teeth, Niall stalked off the porch and made a thorough round of the house and perimeter. The fact that he was walking around half naked and barefoot didn't faze him. The pain of sticks and stones jabbing his bare soles helped to ground him. In his agitated state, Niall was primed to explode. Someone had trespassed onto his land with the intention of terrorizing the woman he'd sworn to protect. Clearly that person had bigger balls than brains. This was one insult Niall would never allow to go unanswered.

After a quick check of the barn and pens, Niall paused at the burn barrel. He dropped the torn baby shoes into the barrel and moved some old newspapers on top. This way Cruz wouldn't see them. The knife he kept. Maybe it would give him some much-needed clues.

Back in the house, Niall wrapped the knife in a paper napkin and dropped it in the junk drawer. He'd deal with that later. Right now, he was worried about Cruz. He flipped on the light and strode to the pantry. The second he opened the door, she launched off the floor and flung herself at him.

Momentarily stunned, Niall left his arms hanging at his sides. It wasn't until he heard her ragged sob of fear and relief that he found the courage to move. He wound his arms around her smaller body and tucked her head against his chest. He soothingly rubbed her back. "Hey, it's okay. It's all right."

"No, it's not!" She wept against his chest, her tears drenching his skin. "He was out other, Niall. I heard him."

"No," Niall said gently and cupped her neck. "It wasn't El Alacrán. It was probably just some illegals moving through the area. This used to be coyote territory, one of their trade routes. People still come across here on their own. I think word of mouth leads them along this route."

It wasn't a total lie. This area was notorious for illegal immigrants and the coyotes who moved them into the country. Cruz didn't need to know about the shoes or knife.

"It was probably just someone looking for food or water," Niall continued smoothly. "It was nothing. You're safe." He lowered his hand to the round bump pressed against him. "The baby is safe."

"You're sure?" She gazed up at him with glistening, terrified eyes. Her fingernails bit into his arms as she clung to him. He hated to lie to her but that pleading, panicked look in her eyes convinced him it was the right thing to do.

"Yeah, sugar, I'm sure." He pushed the strands of hair clinging to her wet cheeks back behind her ear. His hand curved along the side of her jaw. He forced down the urge to press his lips to her forehead in a reassuring way. That would have definitely crossed a line.

"I heard the rocking chair creak."

"What?"

"The chair. It moved and I dropped to the floor."

Images of Cruz crawling on all fours in a bid for safety flashed before his eyes. Guilt chewed away at him. "I'm sorry."

Confusion darkened her face. "For?"

"It's my fault you were downstairs." Humiliation turned him cold. He dropped his gaze as the memory of the way he yelled at her trampled through his mind. "I need to apologize for the way I screamed at you."

"Niall." She spoke his name so softly. Her small hand grasped his chin and forced his reluctant gaze to hers. "You're not the first person with PTSD to scream at me like that. I won't lie. It pissed me off. I was just trying to help you, but I'm also a big girl and I know that you can't help people who don't want to help themselves."

Her words rattled him. She'd cut right to the core of it. Niall didn't want help. He didn't want some stranger digging around in his childhood and the secrets of his military career. He didn't want to admit that he wasn't infallible, that there were some things he couldn't fix on his own.

She surprised him by curling her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. It was a compassionate gesture but his body responded differently. Her warm curves felt like heaven in his arms. It had been so long, too long. Lust and need flared hot and wild in his lower belly. When she smiled up at him, he nearly lost control. Every fiber of his being clamored for one kiss, just a few seconds of pressing his lips to hers.

Niall carefully extricated himself from her arms and put a little space between them. It wasn't nearly enough. The smell of her coconut lime shampoo filled the air. Her body heat beckoned him closer. He tried to get a handle on his raging hormones.

This woman is off-limits
, he reminded himself. Carlos's sister. Pregnant. Survivor. It wasn't right. It just wasn't right to lust after her like horny teenager. She deserved his respect and needed his protection, not a roll in the sack.

"I need to put some clothes on," he said, fully aware of just how much skin he was showing. Every nerve-ending in his chest and arms tingled. "You need to get some sleep."

Cruz shook her head. "I need to work."

"On what? My accounts? Hell, Cruz, those can wait." He walked to the sink, grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the tap. "You've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow. You need your rest."

"It's not your accounts, Niall. I found something."

He gulped down the water and placed the glass in the sink. "What do you mean? Found what?"

"I don't know exactly." She gave him a once-over. "You'd better get dressed. I think it's going to be a long night."

Niall watched her leave and wondered what her cryptic comment meant. He took the stairs two at a time and hurried into his bathroom where he'd left his clean pajama pants and t-shirt. Once dressed, he made his way to the office. He found Cruz sitting at the desk. Her face seemed unnaturally pale.

"Are you all right?" He took long strides into the office. "You look like you've just seen a ghost. What is it?"

"Come look at this." She waved him closer. "I was looking for this ranch management program I picked up at a conference, but when I opened file I found this. It's just pages and pages of numbers and letters."

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be," he admitted as he came around the desk and crouched down beside her.

"Because of your dyslexia?"

He rocked on the balls of his feet. "How did you know?"

She gestured to the piles of paperwork with a nod of her head. "I've worked with enough dyslexic students to know it when I see it. Were you diagnosed young?"

"Hardly!" He snorted at the very idea. "Early intervention didn't exist when I was in school. I struggled a lot." He didn't know why but Niall felt the need to give her a brief view of his childhood. Maybe it was those earnest brown eyes or the way she touched his arm. "My old man used to beat the crap out of me for bad grades. There isn't any better motivation to figure out a way around something like that—"—he pointed at the stacks of paper—"—than your daddy's belt and being called dummy by your teachers."

She grasped his hand and pumped his fingers. "Niall, I am so sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"That doesn’t make it any less mean."

He shrugged as if he didn't care even though those experiences as a child had hurt him badly. Old defenses were hard to abandon, he supposed.

"I managed to muddle through school all right. I went into the Army because there was no way I could get a scholarship with my so-so grades. The Army treated me right. They recognized my skills and taught me to be successful. The GI Bill put me through school and I got some help there with tutors who taught me some techniques."

"But you still struggle with numbers?"

He nodded. "If I'm in a rush or frustrated, it's worse."

"Understandable." Cruz pointed toward the computer screen and showed him the columns of numbers. “Look at these.” She scrolled slowly. “This looks like data of some kind.’

"Wait." Niall touched her arm. "Go back up a little. There. Right there." He pointed to a string of letters and numbers. "That's an IBAN."

"A what?"

"An International Bank Account Number," he clarified. "They're used to do wire transfers." He touched a second column of numbers and letters. "These are SWIFT codes. They identify the bank."

Cruz shot him an amused glance. "You make a lot of international wire transfers?"

"No, but we used to come across stuff like this all the time when we'd raid terrorist strongholds. Those guys used huge international networks to move cash." Niall scratched his head and scowled. "Cruz, this is probably evidence of money laundering or worse."

"Money laundering?" She scrolled through the seemingly endless pages of information. "But that doesn’t make sense."

Niall begged to differ. His brain was working overtime as he snatched her backpack out of the chair, dropped it on the floor and pushed the chair closer to Cruz. He straddled the seat and rested his forearms on top. "Where did you get this flash drive?"

"A math conference in Houston last October."

Niall did the math, but just in case Cruz hadn't gotten there yet, he asked, "And you were assaulted—?"

"A week later," she supplied. "Oh, God, Niall! Is that what he wanted?" She stabbed a finger toward the flash drive. "Is that why he came after me?" She inhaled sharply and quickly maximized the internet browser. "What about my roommate?"

He didn't follow. "What about her?"

"She's the only other person who touched this flash drive, Niall. She wanted a copy of the program so I tossed her the drive on my way out the door to meet friends for dinner. She must have gotten my drive mixed up with hers."

Niall wanted to talk to this roommate. If nothing else, she needed to be in protective custody. "Can you get a hold of her?"

"I don’t have her number or email address. We were thrown together for the conference by a roommate matching service on the conference email loop. She was a grad student at UTSA. Finance, I think." Cruz rubbed her forehead. "Of all the times for pregnancy brain."

Niall frowned at her. "Pregnancy what?"

"You know, like when your brain is all fuzzy and you forget everything." She snapped her fingers. "Daniela Mendoza!"

Cruz typed in the other woman's name followed by San Antonio. Before she could hit enter, Niall added a further instruction. "Add murdered or killed."

Cruz gawked at him. "Niall."

"I'm serious, Cruz."

She added the search terms and waited for the results. Her fingers shook as she clicked on the first result. When she swayed in the chair, Niall jumped up and kicked his chair aside to grab her. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap before taking her place in the chair. Just minutes ago in the kitchen, he wanted space between them and now he desperately needed to hold her close. By the way she gripped his arm, Niall felt sure she needed his comfort too. "It'll be okay, Cruz."