Lonestar Sanctuary (23 page)

Rick took another look at the picture Brendan had faxed him, then
got out of the car and went to the door. He stepped inside and found
the apartment number he was looking for. Doubling his fist, he
pounded on the door.

The smell of onions and hamburger hung in the hallway. Behind the
door, he could hear a baby crying. He knocked again, his knuckles scraping across the gouged wood. The door finally opened to reveal a young
Hispanic woman with a baby on her hip. About twenty, she had the kind
of beauty that made any man take a second look. Long black hair swung
to her hips, and her skirt barely covered the tops of her thighs.

"I'm looking for Luis Hernandez," he said.

"Luis, a five-o is here for you," she shouted over her shoulder, her
gaze never leaving his.

"I'm not a cop," he said quickly.

"No? You look like one." She stepped aside, and he entered the
small living room. Everything was in perfect order, and the furniture
gleamed.

A young man entered the room. Dressed in jeans and a clean
T-shirt, his frown grew more worried when he saw Rick. "You looking for me?"

"If you're Luis Hernandez."

"Si. That's me," he said in a heavy Hispanic accent.

Rick introduced himself. "Do you know Allie Siders?"

"Si. She's the muchacha who wasted my brother. Sent him to
prison, and he never come out."

"I heard you threatened to get even."

Luis shrugged. "Si, so what? Someone kill her?"

"No, she's fine. I want to make sure she stays that way."

"I don't care about the muchacha. My brother, he dead now anyway. I have my own bebe to raise. I stay out of trouble."

Looking into the young man's dark, earnest eyes, Rick decided he
believed him. He'd come all this way for a dead end. He thanked them
both and hurried back to his car.

Once Brendan found out where Mark Haskell was, he'd talk to
him too, but Rick was beginning to wonder if he was looking in the
wrong direction. Maybe it was just some random nut who'd fixated
on Allie.

He drove back to the airport, dropped the rental car, and walked
out to the small plane. An hour later, he was back at the ranch with a
day wasted and not one iota wiser. He couldn't stand to waste the day.
Maybe he'd go to the library and look around on the Internet.

Before he went to his truck, he stopped by the corral and found
Allie. She was teaching the kids about horse etiquette.

She joined him at the fence. "How'd it go?"

He shrugged. "It was a washout. I don't think he had anything to
do with it." He saw the cloud pass over her face and quickly added,
"but I'm going to go into town and try to locate that stock supplier
guy, Ted Rediger. You need me for anything?"

"No, we're fine." She put her hand over his. "Thanks for trying,
Rick. It means a lot."

"I'll be back in time for dinner." In the car, he realized he hadn't
told her what the FBI said about Jon's parents knowing where she was.
He made a mental note to talk to her about it once the adoption hearing was over tomorrow. No reason to worry her before then.

He went to his truck and drove to town. As he passed town hall,
he saw a man in a suit exit the sheriff's office. Could it be Stuart Ifera? Taking a chance, Rick pulled his truck to the curb and jumped out.
"Mr. Ifera," he called.

The man turned and shaded his eyes from the sun with his hand.
"Yes?"

Bingo.

Rick stopped two feet away from the man. Natty dresser. Tie perfectly aligned, pinstriped suit, shoes buffed to a high shine. He could
have stepped out of one of those fancy men's magazines.

His high-powered cologne made Rick sneeze. He stuck his hand
out. "Rick Bailey."

Ifera shook it. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm foreman out at the Bluebird." Rick watched the man's face
change from curiosity to a guarded wariness.

"Terrible about Elijah," Ifera said. "Just terrible."

"You saw him the week before he died. He told me you made an
offer on the ranch that he refused."

"What of it?" The man's shrug was delicate. "I make offers on land
all the time."

"Were you angry he turned you down?"

Ifera laughed. "Not angry enough to kill him, if that's what you're
implying." He swept his hand over the landscape. "Look around you,
Mr. Bailey. Land isn't hard to come by out here."

"We're by the river with lush vegetation. I can see where it would
be a nice place to set a resort. The park borders us on one side, which
would be convenient. Not much available with those amenities."

"Perhaps not," Ifera conceded. "But really, I didn't want it bad
enough to kill him. After all, the new owner wouldn't necessarily be
ready to sell either."

"She's not. She's my daughter, and I'll make sure it's here for her when she's ready." It was a slightly premature statement since the
adoption wouldn't be final until Friday.

"Of course." Ifera's head bobbed in agreement. "If that's all you
have, I'm late for an appointment." He turned and scurried away, a rat
back to his hole.

Rick's intense dislike of the man didn't keep him from recognizing that everything Ifera had said was true. There was plenty of land
to be had in the area. Ifera didn't need the Bluebird.

THE DENIM SKIRT TOUCHED THE TOP OF HER BOOTS, BUT IT WAS LOOSE AT
the waist. Allie hadn't realized she'd lost weight since she'd been here.
Nearly a month. It was hard to believe how much her life had changed.

She fluffed up her hair in the mirror. Her ruffled white blouse
looked pretty and demure, but dark circles marred the pale skin
under her eyes.

The judge had to grant the adoption today. Once it was final, Betsy
would be safe from Jon's parents.

Her hair refused to be tamed, and she swiped at the tendrils that
sprang from her head, trying and failing to tuck them behind her ears.
For a dollar, she'd cut it all off.

Her nails shone glossy and perfect. She was ready. Her knees
shook as she grabbed her bag and went downstairs to join Rick in the
entry. He'd been gone all day yesterday and had returned with a
defeated air.

Standing by the front door with Betsy in his arms, he looked uncomfortable in his khakis and starched shirt. They'd explained everything to her last night, and she'd looked at Rick with shining eyes
when he told her he would be her new daddy.

He'd wormed his way into Betsy's heart even faster than he got
into Allie's.

"Ready?" he asked.

She put her hand on her stomach. "We'd better go."

He held open the door for her to step through, then followed her
onto the porch. The sun stabbed knives into Allie's eyes, and she
winced. "I should have brought my hat."

"I'll get it." Rick set Betsy on the porch and went back inside.

Allie shaded her eyes with her hand and looked out to the purple
cast of hills. A glint of sun on glass made her close her eyes. She slitted them open again and saw a familiar car come careening up the
lane.

Everything in her tensed. "Not now," she whispered as the car
came to a stop and her in-laws erupted from the vehicle.

"My baby!" Erika Siders ran toward the porch with her arms outstretched.

Allie couldn't remember ever seeing Erika wear anything other
than a sensible gray or black dress that came to the bottom curve of
her calf, and today was no exception. The thin blond hair was pulled
back in a severe bun, and not a stitch of makeup brightened her pale
face. Somehow dust found the nerve to settle on the sensible pumps
on her mother-in-law's feet.

The controlled appearance was an effort to deny the squalor Erika
had grown up in, butAllie knew the effects of that upbringing festered
under the pristine surface.

Hugh Siders followed his wife more slowly. A black suit encased
his tall, lanky frame. Gold-frame glasses perched on his nose, and he
walked with determination toward Allie and Betsy. He could have
passed for the most austere of undertakers.

Betsy pressed back against Allie's legs, then attempted to climb
her skirt. Allie scooped her up. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered.

"You had no right," Erika said, her initial loud voice modulating
to a cultured purr. "How could you disappear without telling us
where you'd gone?" She held out her hands. "Come see Grandma,
Betsy," she said.

Betsy buried her face in Allie's neck. "You should have called first,"
Allie said. "We've got an appointment in town."

"Oh, I know all about the appointment." Hugh arrived at the bottom of the porch and shook his finger at her. "It can't be allowed,
you know."

"You have no say in it. I'm married now." Exquisite relief flooded
her when she heard Rick's boots on the floor behind her.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"These are Jon's parents," Allie said, hiking Betsy a little higher.

Rick nodded. "Rick Bailey. Your son was like a brother to me," he
said. "But we've got an appointment in town. Feel free to wander
around the ranch. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

His fingers touched Allie's elbow and helped break her paralysis.
They moved to the steps, but Hugh and Erika still blocked the path.

"The appointment will have to be canceled. We dropped the kidnapping charge, but we won't let you adopt our granddaughter."

Rick's jaw flexed. He stepped out a foot ahead of Allie and
shouldered through the couple. Hugh reeled back, his face going red.
He made a grab for Betsy, who seized Allie's neck in a death grip.

Rick stepped between them. "I don't want to have to get rough,
but you're scaring Betsy."

While Rick blocked the Siders couple, Allie ran with Betsy to the
truck. She got inside and clicked the lock. The muted sounds of Hugh's raised voice and Rick's quick, commanding tones filtered through the
window. What would she have done if Rick wasn't there? The Siderses
always made her feel useless and damaged. It was hard to stand up
against that kind of mental pressure, though she always managed to
survive their insinuations.

Erika went flying back to their car, and Hugh stalked back as well
with his fists clenched. Rick slid into the truck and jammed the key
into the dash. Allie's hands shook as she fastened Betsy's seat belt.

"Where are they going?"Allie asked as the car peeled away in front
of them with dust spurning from under the tires.

"To the courthouse," he said grimly. He tromped on the accelerator, and the truck fishtailed before the tires found purchase.

Out on the open road, he followed close behind the Siderses car,
then made a sharp right turn onto a dirt road. "Shortcut," he said, his
lips lifting in a grim smile.

"Can they stop us?" she asked.

"I don't think so."

From the way his hands gripped the wheel and the tightness of his
jaw, she knew he was worried, in spite of his reassuring words.

She should have known things would go south at the last minute.
This time, she'd fight with every ounce of strength she had to protect Betsy.

"They're really something, aren't they?" Rick said after a long pause.

The truck bucked like a wild mustang along the potholes. Allie
grabbed the armrest to steady herself. "They've always interfered a
lot. It drove Jon crazy."

"He told me about his childhood."

Allie nodded, glancing down to see that Betsy had put her earphones on. Even though he'd probably heard it, she needed to talk it out. "They had eight to ten foster kids at any one time, mostly for the
money, Jon always thought. He was pretty much neglected and left to
run wild. He never thought they cared about him except as an extension of themselves. He warned me that if anything happened to him,
they'd try to get Betsy."

"But why? Sounds like they have plenty of other kids around."

She shrugged. "I think they want to make sure she's raised `right'
by their standards. Their brand of Christianity allows for picking and
choosing what they want, like a smorgasbord. Their favorite saying
is, `Spare the rod, spoil the child.' Jon got his share of the razor
strap." She looked at him sideways. "You might know something
about that." When he didn't answer, she said, "They put on a great
show at church and for the court, but at home there was always
shouting and fighting."

A quick glance from under his brows at her, then he turned his
attention back to the road. "Don't let them shake your confidence,
Allie.You're doing a great job with Betsy."

"She still doesn't talk. Maybe it's my fault." She reached out and
smoothed Betsy's dark curls.

"We're getting through. She's going to talk a blue streak one of
these days. She's so much more animated than she was when she first
came. Excitement is going to cause some words to come bubbling out
eventually."

"I keep praying that happens."

Another quick glance from Rick. "Speaking of praying, I made an
appointment with my pastor for us to have some marriage counseling.
We go for our first session after the hearing."

She gulped. "Marriage counseling?"

He nodded without adding anything more.

"The pastor looked familiar, like I'd met him before. He's a nice
guy.

"You did meet him, early in the week you came here. He's our
vet too."

"Pastor O'Sullivan is a vet?"

"The church is too small to support a full-time pastor. Grady is a
real man of God and was called to do both. Counseling with him
should be easy."

"I didn't realize we were fighting," she said, sending a teasing smile
his way.

He shot an answering grin back. "We want to keep it that way. I
thought some counseling might help us learn to know each other a
little faster."

Her voice softened. "I I'm a little scared, Rick."

"Me too," he admitted. "I don't know how to be a husband or a
dad. I've got a lot to learn. Getting a solid foundation can't do anything but help us."

Warmth flooded Allie. It took a lot of guts for him to admit his feelings of inadequacy. He felt as unprepared as she did. Maybe together
they could bungle along and find their way.