Never Too Late (27 page)

She felt prickles
of pain in her hand and realized she'd been clenching her fist so tightly her
fingernails impressed half-moons into her palm. But the pain was mild compared
to the deep, heartfelt fear that, even with everything pointing to this child
being Beth, it could yet be another false lead. She closed her eyes....

Please God, don't let me down again. Let
this child be Beth.

Not Beth.
Annie. This child is named Annie. Annie Kincaid.

Ruth started
trembling, and hot tears welled. She patted her cheeks and blinked away the
tears, then silently practiced her opening words.
'Hello, Annie, I'm pleased to meet you. I'm certain we'll get on fine.
Please call me
...' Always she stumbled here. Since the kidnapper would be
familiar with the name, Jennifer Sinclair, using her middle name, Ruth, and her
mother’s maiden name, Crawford, had been a compromise...

She glanced out
the window and saw Annie making her way down the tree ladder. When her foot hit
the ground, Matt snagged her by the arm and headed toward the house. Before Ruth
could remind herself to take a deep breath and stay calm, Matt walked through
the door, the child tugging against his grip. As Ruth stood, silent and rigid
and clinging to the strap of her shoulder bag, Matt nudged the sun-kissed, slip
of a child toward her.

Ruth's throat
tightened, and when she tried to speak, words wouldn't come. Nor could she take
her eyes off the small scar that followed the line of the child's jaw, a scar
about where Beth's would have been. For an instant, everything in the room faded.
Only the compelling hazel eyes staring back at her seemed to exist, as if she
and the child were frozen in time. And as she held Annie’s unwavering gaze, she
searched for some sign of recognition in the child’s eyes, but all she found
was hostility.

Forcing a smile
that felt as stiff as it was feigned, she said, "Hello, Annie, I'm pleased
to meet you."

Annie’s brows
gathered in a frown, and for an instant Ruth was certain she'd detected
bafflement in those eyes. But the moment was fleeting, and Ruth wondered if
she'd simply deceived herself into seeing something that wasn't there.

Matt nudged
Annie. "Mind your manners, bucko. Say hello to Miss Crawford."

Annie pinned
Ruth with a cold glare, shot a defiant look at her father, and said, "I
don't want a stupid nanny," then fled through the open door and never
looked back.

Ruth stared
after her, feeling confused and uncertain. During the terrible empty years
without Beth she'd held onto the hope of this moment, to the dream of a
tearful, joyous reunion, of taking Beth in her arms and holding her for dear
life. And now, if the moment had come and gone, she could never have prepared
herself for this kind of reception from a child who might be her daughter.
Complete aversion.

Matt looked at
Ruth and shrugged. "Nannies aren't her favorite people."

"And her
mother?" Ruth asked. "Does Annie see her frequently?"

"Annie's
mother's not a part of Annie's life," Matt said in a tone that told Ruth
the discussion was over. Which made Ruth even more determined to learn why Matt
Kincaid had sole custody of his daughter. Bill had not been able to glean that
information. But he had pointed out the power in the Kincaid family when he'd
first begun piecing things together.

"Kincaid's
the son of a judge, the youngest of four boys," he told her. "One
brother's a high-powered
attorney,
one's a state
senator, and another's attorney general. Seems Matt Kincaid's the maverick in
the family... left home when he was sixteen and moved around, hiring on as a
ranch hand. Then he married the rancher's daughter, divorced her, and ended up
with the ranch and sole custody of their daughter. Obviously used his family's
influence to come out on top..."

Ruth looked at
Matt Kincaid, and said
,.
"Annie must feel
somewhat insecure living on an isolated ranch with only one parent."

Matt gave a
short, ironic laugh. "Annie's about as insecure as a rutting bull. She's
got more family at the ranch than she knows what to do with. And she knows the
only way she'd ever be separated from me would be over my cold, dead body. If
anyone's insecure it's me. Without Annie, there wouldn't be much meaning to my
life, something someone without kids wouldn't understand. Just take my word for
it."

Ruth clenched
her jaw to keep from screaming,
how dare
you say I don't know how much meaning a child can bring to a person's life....
or how meaningless life can be without her...

Matt smiled a
slow, contemplative smile. "There's no doubt, Annie's the best thing that
ever happened to me." And in that moment, Ruth knew Matt Kincaid would go
to any length to hold and protect his child. And at this point, she couldn’t be
sure Annie wasn't his child, just as she couldn’t be sure little girl was Beth.
But time would tell.

If Annie was
Beth she’d have a past that didn’t include Matt Kincaid. Photographs from birth
to two years of age would be missing. So, inquiring about pictures of Annie as
a baby would be one of her first objectives. Locating Annie's birth certificate
and verifying that she was adopted would be another. For now, she'd still cling
to hope. If Annie was Beth, the worst of her fears would be dispelled. Beth had
not been snatched by a sexual predator, or a child killer, or a deranged woman
desperate for a child. She'd been cared for by a devoted man who'd lay down his
life for her, a man with the money and wherewithal to take the child he claimed
was his and hide her where she'd never be found. And Ruth didn't question for a
moment that Matt Kincaid would do precisely that, if boxed into a corner...

"We'll be
flying to Bend in the morning," Matt said.

Ruth looked up
from her distracted thoughts. "So soon?" She'd have no time to get
the DNA kits before leaving. Bill only recently brought up the idea of DNA
self-collection tests, if she was able to get the nanny job and would have
access to the child. The results would not be admissible in court, but if they
confirmed a biological relationship, it would be enough to start legal action
that would force Matt Kincaid to allow the Chain of Custody collection
procedure done, which would be admissible in court. More important, it would
determine if Annie Kincaid was Beth...

"I need to
get back to the ranch," Matt said. "We'll fly to Bend, where we'll
stock up on supplies, then fly to Pine Grove, but from there we'll head to the
Kincaid by truck." He scanned the full length of her. "I hope you
have some more suitable clothes… jeans, shirts, boots, a hat."

"I have a
few pairs of slacks."

"Slacks
won’t do. We’ll get you outfitted in Bend."

Ruth shook her
head. "I can't allow you to buy my clothes."

One corner of
the man's mouth tipped up in an ironic smile. "Sweetheart, I don't need
your permission."

Ruth stiffened.
This sweet talking cowboy with his overbearing attitude set her blood boiling.
She wasn't one of his range hands, and she definitely wasn't his sweetheart.
She was, however, a hired hand of sorts, with the most important job of her
life, and she’d better remember that if she wanted to hold onto it.

Giving him a
wavering smile, she said, "I'd rather you didn't." But as she said the
words she already knew he'd get his way.

But Matt
Kincaid’s forceful manner and use of endearments and all the other irritating
qualities about the man were irrelevant, because in her heart, Ruth believed
she'd found Beth, and she had no intention of leaving her side until Beth was
returned to her own bedroom, where she'd find her toys and dolls and stuffed
animals waiting for her to come home... waiting to hear her childish laughs and
sweet young voice fill the house once again.

But to
accomplish that goal, she'd be forced to put up with the bossy, arrogant likes
of Matt Kincaid, something she did not look forward to doing.

***

After a bumpy
flight in a twin engine Cessna, they arrived in Bend, where Ruth was outfitted
in the clothes she didn't want—snug fitting jeans, western-cut shirts with
pearl snaps, a western hat with a wide brim, several bandanas, and a pair of
stiff, brown cowboy boots for riding. It was dusk when they touched down in
Pine Grove, but since the plane was to remain there for servicing, the rest of
the trip was in a truck with an extended cab.

They arrived at
the ranch shortly before midnight. Pole lights lit up a compound of
outbuildings that included the shadowy outline of a huge barn. But the
structure that caught and held her attention was a large, two-story log ranch
house with a wrap-around porch and a high, dormered roof that sloped steeply to
shed the snow.

With Annie
sleeping cradled in his arms, Matt lead Ruth through a spacious, rustic living
room with a large stone fireplace at one end, up a wide bank of half-log
stairs, and down a hallway, stopping in front of a bedroom with the door ajar.
He nudged the door open with his toe, and said, "This is your room, and
Annie's is the next one down the hall. Have her dressed and down for breakfast
by seven. Normally morning meal's at six, but we'll bend rules this once."
With not so much as a "Good night," he continued down the hallway to
Annie's room.

Her hand on the
doorframe, Ruth was a heartbeat away from yelling after him, 'The devil with
ranch rules! A child needs sleep!' Not only would it get her fired, but Matt
Kincaid was obviously too autocratic to listen to anything the new nanny might
offer.

Yet, there was
also another side to the man.

Once airborne,
and with his ranch foreman in control of the plane, Matt turned back his cuffs
and became totally absorbed with Annie, reading to her and playing endless
games of tic-tac-toe and connect-the-dots, until Ruth felt as if Matt and Annie
existed in their own little world. Except for those unexpected moments when
he’d look towards her as if suddenly remembering she was aboard. But it gave
her time to study the man, unobserved. A big man with a lean, sun-bronzed face
and broad muscular shoulders, he was all cowboy, from the crown of his
weathered Stetson to the tips of his scuffed brown boots.

She remembered
the first time she’d seen a picture of him. Bill handed her a photo and said,
"Matt Kincaid owns a large cattle ranch in southeast Oregon... sometimes
visits his brother, Bret Kincaid, an attorney who lives in Salem. Take a look.
See if you recognize the man."

Ruth braced
herself for what she might find.
Someone
familiar... a friend of the family... someone the child would trust...
Words from police officers, and social workers, and concerned citizens who'd
read of Beth's abduction. But when she looked at the photo, all she saw was a
tall, broad-shouldered man who, with his hazel eyes and ash-blond hair, looked
more akin to Beth than she did, with her dark hair and brown eyes.

Heaving a weary
sigh, Ruth flipped the light switch and stepped into a bedroom outfitted with
solid furniture that included a peeled-pine chair with faded upholstery, a pine
dresser with horseshoe drawer pulls, a wardrobe with a full-length mirror on
its wide door, a double bed, also of peeled-pine logs, and a quilted bedspread
with ranch patterns. At the foot of the bed was a stack of towels and
washcloths in mismatched colors.

While she was
turning back the bedspread, a ranch hand named Seth delivered her suitcases,
along with the numerous shopping bags with her new clothes. After fetching the
pajamas she bought for Annie in Bend, she went to Annie's room. By the light
funneling in from the hallway, and while Annie was sleeping soundly, she
stripped off Annie's tie-dyed tee shirt and mini sweats and eased on the new
pajamas, then tucked the covers around her. Annie would not remember any of it,
but she’d be happy to wake up wearing new
PJs
. But
before leaving the room, Ruth looked at Annie’s restful face, taking in the
child's quiet features bathed in soft light. But when Annie stirred, Ruth
backed into the hallway.

As with most
nights, Ruth knew she wouldn't fall asleep without a book to make her drowsy,
but when she'd packed she'd been so anxious about what lay ahead she’d
forgotten to include any books. But as they'd passed through the living room on
their way to the stairs earlier, she'd noticed that the stone fireplace with
its high arched opening was flanked on both sides by bookcases. Intending to
fetch a book and crawl into bed, she made her way down the stairs. But when she
entered the living room, she was surprised to find Matt settled into a leather
overstuffed chair, reading. Ankles crossed, bootless feet propped on a low
coffee table,
a
pair of reading glasses on his nose,
the whole scene appeared incongruous. Cleaning guns or soaping boots seemed
more appropriate...

The floor
creaked beneath her feet and he looked up,
then
waited
for her to speak. She shrugged, and said, "I need a book and I thought I
could find one here."

"Help
yourself
," Matt replied, then returned to his reading.

Ruth scanned
the books, surprised to find so many of the classics, including Plato’s
Republic
and Homer’s
Odyssey
. She also found books of poetry
interspersed with
Aesop’s Fables
,
The Boy’s Book of King Arthur
and an
illustrated,
Children’s Bible
. A
small area included books on child psychology and single parenting. Definitely
not what she'd expected to find in Matt Kincaid’s library. Reaching for a book
on child psychology, she turned and said, "I’ll just take this one and be
on my way."

Matt looked up,
as if surprised she was still there, gave a nod, and returned to his reading.