Her Rancher Bodyguard (11 page)

“What is wrong with you?” she asked as he got behind the wheel.

“I got a text.”

“You could have said something.”

He started the truck and backed out of the parking space. “I didn't really want to take time to explain to you that we need to leave.”

“What was the text?”

“The person who texted me knew what you were wearing and wanted to prove, they said, that they could get close to you.”

She shivered, even though she tried to tell herself she wasn't afraid. For weeks she'd been telling herself this was all nothing more than an overzealous prankster. But it wasn't. Someone out there wanted to hurt her. They wanted to hurt her dad.

“It has to do with money and politics. So why doesn't my dad just pay them off?”

“Because they won't stop, Kayla. They'll take the money, and next time they'll raise the stakes. They'll always want more. They'll always want another payday. The only way to stop them is to figure out who they are.”

“Someone my dad knows. Someone who knows me. Someone who wants him out of the race. But how do they know? It has to be someone close to our family. Or someone who worked for my dad.”

He glanced her way just enough to give her a reassuring look. “We'll figure it out.”

The drive to the Martin ranch was too quick. Kayla's brain was still scrolling through people she knew, or people her dad had known. Suspicions landed on those closest to her. Even her little brother Michael became a suspect. She couldn't imagine him doing this. He might want to hurt her, but never their father.

“You okay?” Boone questioned as they got out of the truck at Duke's house.

“I'm good, just thinking. Or trying not to think.”

His hand was on her back. “Let it go for the day. You're safe. Your dad is safe.”

“Is he?” And did she care? She'd spent so many years telling herself she didn't. But what if something happened to him?

“He's safe. He has a great team of security people surrounding him.”

“Right, of course he does.”

They were met at the front door by Oregon, Duke's wife. Her daughter, Lily, popped up behind her. Kayla greeted them with smiles and hugs. They were her family. Lily was her niece. There were other nieces and nephews. It was amazing that these people were her family. And she loved them.

They were pieces of the broken life that was being made whole.

“Come on in.” Oregon led them through the sprawling, two-story farmhouse that she and Duke had remodeled. “Duke's on the grill out back. The others are sitting on the patio. It's such a perfect fall day.”

“Would you like to see our new kittens?” Lily took hold of Kayla's hand. “They need homes.”

“I'm not sure if getting a cat is a good idea right now,” Kayla said, but her objections were ignored. Lily led her through the house, away from Oregon and Boone. “They're in the laundry room. I convinced Dad they have to be inside.”

“But they don't?” Kayla guessed.

Lily grinned. “Not at all. But they're cute and the little kids love them.”

She was petting a pretty gray ball of fluff when Samantha found them.

“Don't let her trick you into taking one of those kittens home,” Sam warned.

“I'm not a cat person,” Kayla felt confident in saying.

“Of course you're not.” Sam picked up a dark gray tabby and held it close. “This one is mine. Not that I need another cat. Remington said we aren't even married and we already have a zoo.”

“He loves you so much, he'd let you bring home a zoo,” Kayla countered. “Another month until the wedding.”

“I know. I thought I had months to prepare and then I woke up and realized I have days.”

“Weddings and babies,” Lily groaned. “This whole family is obsessed with weddings and babies. You know, there are teenagers. We live. We breathe. We were here first.”

Sam ruffled their niece's dark hair. “Yes, Lily, you came first. We need to go. Lunch is ready.”

Lunch was typical of the Martins, Kayla thought. There was a lot of laughter, a lot of talking. They ate outside where there were a couple of patio tables and plenty of chairs. Jake's wife, Breezy, sat down in the seat next to Kayla, a plate balanced on her lap and a glass of iced tea in her hand.

Kayla liked Breezy. She was earthy, quiet and genuine. And anyone could see that she was exactly what Jake Martin had needed. He was the serious older brother.

“You know, when this is over, you could always stay here,” Breezy said, just as Sam arrived with her plate. Boone was a short distance away talking to Remington and Brody about the upcoming ranch rodeo and Lucas.

When Lucas was mentioned, Lily's eyes lit up. Oregon noticed it, too. She didn't look as amused. Lily was young. Too young for Lucas. That didn't mean she couldn't have a crush on the younger Wilder.

“Kayla?” Breezy cleared her throat.

“Sorry, just thinking. And I'm sure I'll just go home to Austin and go back to my life when this is all over.” Back to what life? She looked up, saw the same question lurking in the eyes of her sister and sister-in-law. The life that was going nowhere? The life that counted for nothing?

“That sounds promising,” Sam said with her customary honesty and a touch of sarcasm.

“Thanks,” Kayla shot back. “Actually, I do have this pesky little degree in early childhood education. I could finish up, get certified and be a teacher. If there's a school that would have me.”

From a short distance away Boone heard and arched one dark brow. She glared and went back to the conversation with her sisters. Oregon had joined them. She pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Martin's Crossing has a nice school,” Oregon offered.

“I don't think Martin's Crossing is ready for me,” Kayla answered. “And I'm not sure if I could live in the country. I've always lived in the city. It's just who I am.”

This time she avoided looking at Boone, because she didn't want to see his reaction to the conversation. It shouldn't matter what he thought.

But deep down, she knew that it did.

Chapter Ten

K
ayla was up at sunrise Monday morning. Early to bed, early to rise seemed to make Kayla Stanford healthy, happy and wise. Because she was happy. It was the strangest thing, to be here in the home of strangers, dependent on their kindness and charity, and yet she was happy.

She slipped out of her room just as Janie was coming out of her bedroom down the hall. Janie, always quiet and self-conscious. Kayla smiled at the younger woman.

“I'm getting used to this ‘crack of dawn' business,” Kayla said as the two of them walked downstairs together.

“I would love to sleep late,” Janie responded. “I try, but I can't. I'm just used to being up early.”

Maria Wilder was already up. She had a pot of coffee started and she was sitting at the kitchen table. Janie gave her a look, because Maria sitting down was unusual.

“Mom, you okay?”

Maria nodded. “I'm good. Maybe a little under the weather. I think I have that virus Molly had last week.”

Janie put a hand to her mother's brow. “You're warm. Go back to bed.”

“I have too much to do,” Maria argued.

“And you have a house full of daughters who can do those things. The guys are working cattle today. The twins are upstairs practicing their pageant walk.” She laughed at that and so did Maria. “Go back to bed. Let us be in charge for once.”

“I can help,” Kayla offered. Both Janie and Maria looked up. Kayla smiled, enjoying their looks of astonishment.

“Of course she can,” Janie jumped right in. “We'll thaw something out for dinner, get the laundry going. Trust us.”

Kayla grinned at Maria. “Yes, trust me.”

Maria reached for her hand. “I do trust you, Kayla. Completely. So I'm going back to bed and I'm leaving the two of you in charge. Michaela has work today, so Molly will be here with you.”

That seemed to take Janie by as much surprise as it took Kayla. “Molly?”

“Yes, your niece. Have fun.”

Maria left the two of them standing in the kitchen looking at each other. Kayla laughed first.

“We're babysitting.”

Janie shuddered. “Molly is a terror.”

“I heard that.” Michaela entered the room with her daughter. Molly waggled along next to her on pudgy legs, her blond hair in pigtails. She looked like a little darling. But then she smiled and all orneriness broke loose.

“Mom's gone back to bed. She has Molly's virus. We told her we'd hold down the fort today.” Janie held a hand out to her niece. “So you're staying with us, Mols.”

Molly didn't look thrilled.

“Mom is sick enough to go back to bed?” Michaela picked up her daughter. “That's unheard of.”

“She deserves a break,” Janie countered. “Molly, do you want oatmeal for breakfast?”

“Cookies.” Molly grinned as she said it.

“No cookies.” Michaela handed her daughter over to her sister. “Do not let her have cookies for breakfast. I have to run. Keep an eye on her. Do not let her out of your sight.”

“Because I'm twenty and obviously don't know that.” Janie snuggled her niece. “Go.”

Michaela left, giving them each a warning look before heading out the door. Janie immediately passed the toddler to Kayla.

“Cookies,” Molly said with a toddler lisp.

“I don't think we should have cookies for breakfast.” Kayla held the little girl close.

The doorbell rang. Janie peeked out and then opened it. “Hey, Daron. Long time no see.”

Tall, with sun-streaked hair and an air of confidence that he'd probably possessed since birth, Daron McKay was not on the list of Kayla's favorite people. Older than her by five years, they'd seen each other at social functions their fathers had insisted they attend but they'd never been friends. “Surprise,” he said. “Kayla, don't look so happy to see me. I'm giving Boone a break. He's working cattle with the boys. I'm on Kayla duty.”

“You're just in time for breakfast,” Janie offered. She headed for the kitchen and Daron motioned for Kayla to go first. “I'm going to make pancakes.”

“I love pancakes,” Daron called back to her. He stepped close to Kayla. “I talked to your father this morning. I want you to look at some photographs from old news stories. This person seems to have been around when you were in Mexico, and also Florida. Maybe you'll recognize someone.”

“Sure.” Kayla shifted Molly to her left hip. The little girl patted her cheek and kissed her.

Daron grinned. “I wouldn't have guessed you for a kid person, Kayla.”

“Me, neither. She just doesn't know any better.”

“Give yourself a break, will you?” he spoke sharply. “You've gotten used to being down on yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.” She nuzzled the little girl in her arms. “Maybe I am a kid person.”

He winked and took Molly from her. “Maybe you're a person who fixes me breakfast.”

“Don't push it.”

It was noon when Lucas and Boone came in for lunch. Jase had class on Mondays, so it was the two of them trying to separate calves that were ready to be weaned. Then they were heading back out to work on some fence that was starting to lean. Boone pulled off leather gloves and tossed them on the table. He glanced from Daron to Kayla.

“Have you showed her the photographs?”

“Not yet. She's been babysitting.” Daron got up from the table. “I'll get my computer.”

“Babysitting?” Boone asked as he pulled lunch meat out of the fridge. He eyed the slow cooker. “Where's Mom?”

“She's sick,” Kayla explained. She pulled plates out of the cabinet. One for him. One for Lucas. “Janie and I are taking care of things.”

“Where's Janie?” he asked.

“Trying to get Molly to take a nap.”

Lucas laughed as he put a sandwich together. “That's not going to happen. That little girl has more energy than all of us combined.”

“Mom's sick?” Boone asked again, his brows drawing together. “That never happens.”

“Molly had a virus. They think your mom has the same.”

“And Dad?” Boone asked as he sat down at the table with his plate. Kayla sat next to him.

“We took him lunch a little while ago. He's up and around but sitting with her. I think they're enjoying a quiet day, just the two of them.”

“Yeah, I guess that isn't something they get too much of. Time alone.”

Daron returned with his laptop. He set it on the table in front of Kayla. She glanced up, wishing this whole mess away. Before she could say anything, Janie appeared with Molly. The little girl was clinging to her neck and wiping tears off her cheek with a pudgy hand.

“She won't take a nap.”

Lucas stepped into the room. “You just figured that out? She is not a napper.”

Molly lifted her blond head off Janie's shoulder and pinned Kayla with her big eyes. “Kayka.”

Janie handed the little girl over. “You're the new favorite.”

“But I'm—” she held the little girl close “—not a kid person. Really.”

Boone picked up his plate and carried it to the sink. “I guess you are now,
Kayka
.”

Daron booted up his computer. “Here, babysitter, have a seat.”

She sat next to him, Molly against her shoulder. Boone pulled out the chair on the other side of her. Lucas and Janie made excuses about other things to do. Janie was going to fold laundry. Lucas thought he'd work with his horse while he waited for Boone.

“I pasted photos so I have them all in one file.” Daron opened the folder and slid the computer in front of Kayla.

As she clicked through the photos, the little girl in her arms grew heavier. She shifted the sleeping child, Molly's head resting against her shoulder.

“So much for not wanting to take a nap,” Boone said. “Do you want me to take her? I can put her on the sofa.”

“No, I have her.” She wouldn't have thought it could happen, but Molly had snatched up a piece of her heart. Holding her felt good. She inhaled the sweet scent of baby shampoo and brushed her cheek against Molly's soft hair.

“That's how it happens, Stanford. They lure you in when you're least expecting it.” Boone leaned in to look at the pictures, but his shoulder brushed hers. She could have told him that Molly wasn't the only one luring her in. He was doing his share, and so was his family.

She would eventually have to leave this sweet place, and she knew that she'd miss it. Miss this family. Miss Boone.

“Whoa,” Daron said as she clicked through pictures.

“What?”

“Back that up. Tell me who that is, around the bonfire.”

She looked at the picture, a group of people around a fire. Big deal. Daron pointed. “That one.”

Her heart stammered a little as she studied the picture. The face familiar, but not. She met Boone's gaze and he shrugged. Daron tapped the screen, making the image larger.

“I've met him but I can't remember his name. But I do know he's the nephew of Clarence Jacobs,” Daron said quietly, letting it sink in.

“Clarence Jacobs is running against my dad. But I don't know him. So he wouldn't know anything about me.” She closed her eyes, trying to force calm, trying to remember.

Boone took Molly from her arms and this time she let him. He soothed the little girl with softly spoken words as he carried her from the room.

“What would he gain from this?”

Daron leaned back, still looking at the photograph. “Money. But I can't imagine he needs any. Retribution?”

“For what?”

“Do you remember meeting him, Kayla?”

She closed her eyes, trying to bring back memories of that night. “I don't know. I must have, but I don't remember ever having a conversation with him. And it isn't as if I tell complete strangers what happened to me.”

Or did she?

“It's great that she recognizes him and he's connected to politics,” Boone said as he walked back into the room. “But you need more than that to arrest a guy for assault and extortion.”

“Right.” Daron attached a portable printer to his computer. “I'll take this to town and we'll see if we can't tie Mr. Wonderful to the phone calls, to the attacker, or even put his location near here.”

“I don't even know his name,” Kayla said. “I wish I could remember. A person should remember something this important.”

Boone pulled her close, his arms strong. She leaned her head against his shoulder. She'd like to think she was a different person now. If she could believe anything about herself, she would believe that she was someone a man like Boone Wilder would take home to meet his family. Instead, she was the person hiding inside their home, hiding her real self, and trying to be someone they could accept.

“Stop,” he whispered close to her temple, his breath soft against her skin.

“Stop what?”

Daron packed up his computer and the portable printer. He looked from Kayla to Boone, his eyes narrowing. “I'm heading to Austin. You've got this?”

Boone nodded, his chin brushing the top of her ear. “We're good.”

He left with one last look for Boone. And Kayla knew that look. He was warning Boone to not get emotionally involved. Because she wasn't good for someone like Boone.

* * *

“Stop,” Boone repeated, tightening his arms around the woman he held.

She turned in his embrace and looked up, her blue eyes tangling with his. A man could get lost in those eyes of hers.

“Stop blaming yourself,” he continued. “Stop this trip into the past. It'll get you nowhere.”

“But I can't undo who I was or the choices I made.”

“No, you can't. But you can move forward. I think you have a clear idea of who you want to be. I think you've always known that person, but you tried to destroy her. Maybe you thought you couldn't be her.”

“That woman would have been crushed by...” She shook her head and stepped away from him. “It was easier to pretend it didn't hurt.”

“But it did hurt. You can't pretend the pain away, Kayla. You have to confront it. And you have to give yourself a chance to live.”

“I know.” She brushed a hand over her face. “But I'm tired, Boone. I'm so tired. I thought I'd escaped that life, but it came after me.”

“We'll conquer it again. And again, if we have to. We'll keep conquering until you're free of it.”

“What if I'm never free?”

He brushed a hand down her arm and she sighed at his touch. That encouraged him. He pulled her close again. “You are free. ‘Whom the Son sets free is free indeed.' Kayla, you're free from the past. You've been redeemed. That doesn't mean you won't have battles. We all have battles.”

She placed a hand on his cheek. “You have battles?”

“Yeah, I have battles.”

He battled guilt. He battled his brain, making him think and rethink that day over and over again. People had been hurt and a man had died because Boone had trusted a kid. What kind of world did we live in that you couldn't trust a child?

Yes, he had battles. But the person he'd had to learn to forgive the most was himself.

He knew Daron fought the same battles. His guilt kept him tied to that day, to memories of a woman and to the life of another woman.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you back there, Boone.”

He blinked away the images of that day in Afghanistan. “I'm good.”

Her smile was timid and sweet, shaking something loose inside him. For a dangerous minute he forgot that he was standing in his mother's kitchen, where any number of people could interrupt. It didn't seem to matter when she stood so close he could smell strawberry shampoo.

His hand went around her waist. His lips touched hers. She tasted like lemonade and sugar cookies. Her hand touched his neck, pulling him a little bit closer.