Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) (8 page)

“I’m so sorry you went through this, Angelique.” Her aunt brushed a soothing hand down her hair.

“Oh, it got worse. He tore out of the parking lot and into traffic. I remember tires squealing, horns honking, but I didn’t dare tell him to slow down. He was out of control. He pulled into a corner gas station. He actually smiled as he took the keys from the ignition and held out his hand. ’I need money.’ Emilee started to whimper and I knew it was past her suppertime. I gave him everything in my apron.”

As though in a trance, she remembered him slamming the door, jarring her to her senses. “I looked around but most things were closed. The neighborhood was run down and I was too scared to try to find help, afraid that it might be worse. He came out a few minutes later, a six-pack under his arm and a gun in his hand. He stopped in front of the car and fired back at the store. I couldn’t see what happened. Gas pumps blocked my view. Then he was in the car, tossing the beer in my lap and the gun on the seat.”

Aunt Rebecca gasped in horror, covering her mouth.

“It discharged and the bullet sliced through the side of my foot. I was screaming, Emilee was crying. He was yelling for us to stop, banging his hand against the wheel. I pulled my seat belt on as he started the car and prayed that Emilee was secure. He flew through traffic and soon I heard sirens. He cursed, and drove faster, trying to outrun the police. I was helpless to do anything but hang on. He tried to get around a car, turning the wheel too far, and he couldn’t recover. The car went airborne, landing nose first on an embankment. The back end slammed to a rest, shattering the back window. I didn’t remember anything else until I woke up in the hospital.”

Tears stained Angelique’s face and she realized that her knuckles were white, gripping her aunt’s hand. “When I came to in the hospital, they told me that Tony had wounded the clerk at the gas station in the robbery. Aside from the beer, he’d taken money and, worse, they’d found a packet of cocaine in his jeans.” She released a breath to try to lessen the tightness in her chest. “They told me Emilee was fine, but said it was only our seat belts that saved us. I was terrified what might happen to Emilee. That’s why I called you. The woman who took care of Emilee found me a lawyer who handles domestic abuse cases--that’s how she was able to be turned over into your care.”

She looked at her aunt. “I felt like such a failure. I was in no shape to care for a child. I had no idea what to do, what would come next.” She stood then and crossed her arms over her chest, walking to the window. “It took weeks…months, for me to heal. I stayed with Mrs. Harrison, went to group sessions for women like me who’d been in abusive situations. It was a start. But there was still Tony. It came to light that he’d been involved with drugs—not only using but also selling. I knew he’d used occasionally, but only once or twice did he do so at home. I agreed to testify against him, give them names of people he’d mentioned when he’d go drinking. I offered my lawyer an account of Tony’s violent behavior, what I knew about his using and it wasn’t difficult to obtain a divorce. I was able to have you come get Emilee, because Tony never asked about her. He never knew that I hadn’t listed him as the father.”

A car horn sounded outside and, wiping her face, she looked back at her aunt.

“You are a brave woman, Angelique.” She walked over and wrapped her arms around her. “I had no idea that you’d been through so much.”

“I-I didn’t want to end up like my mother,” she said, her voice breaking as fresh tears flowed against her aunt’s cotton dress.

Aunt Rebecca stroked the back of her head, offering soothing words of comfort, quieting Angelique’s soul as she’d done so often in the past.

“It’s all behind you now, sweetheart. And your courage and love for Emilee is the reason for your accomplishments. No one could want for a better mother. She’s a lucky little girl.” Rebecca held her at arm’s length. “We’re here for you as always. And we’re so proud of you, Angelique. So very proud.”

She sniffed, wiping her face once more. “Sally’s going to wonder what’s keeping us.” She managed a wobbly smile.

Rebecca took her chin in her hand. “Do you have feelings for Dalton?”

Searching her aunt’s gaze, she shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. He rejected me once before. Tony deceived me and it almost cost Emilee and me our lives. Maybe I need to stand on my own for a while. Besides, it seems Dalton still has an issue with drinking and I can’t afford to be messed up with someone like that again. I guess if I’ve learned nothing else, it’s that I can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, no matter how much I love them. I need to take care of me and Emilee for now.”

Rebecca nodded. But even as her aunt pulled her into another embrace, Angelique knew that her feelings for Dalton were as strong as they ever were. That kiss they’d shared behind the barn and the number of times she’d replayed it in her head was undisputable evidence. How would he react to the knowledge that Emilee was his? She wasn’t about to box him in with obligations—not after all this time. She and Emilee were just fine on their own, and when she saved enough to find a place—well, she’d decide then what was best for the two of them.

Chapter Five

He was damn tired of thinking about her and he’d be double-damned if he was going to stick around. He was a stupid-ass fool for thinking that kiss meant anything, and he had paid for it every night this week. He was hungry for more and she’d given him the decree that it wouldn’t happen again. Which was why he’d decided to head up to the cabin to do a little fishing this weekend. It was a helluva lot better than sitting around here tormenting himself with having to keep his distance.

“Hey, where’re you headed?” Rein asked, walking down from the back of the house where he’d delivered wood for the fire pit. He swiped the wood chips off the front of his shirt, waiting for an answer. Dalton figured he wasn’t going to like it.

Dalton hefted his metal cooler into the back of the truck. His tackle box, rod, and assorted gear followed. “Heading up to the cabin. Want to get in a little fishing before the weather turns.”

Rein slipped off his hat and scratched the top of his head, causing his sandy brown hair to stand on end. “You forget we have a barbecue tonight and half the town is invited?”

“Nope.” Dalton snapped his rifle into the rack behind the jump seat.

Rein grinned. “Gonna shoot them fish?”

Dalton tossed him a look. “Like I have to remind you about the bears up there?”

“Ok, fair enough.” Rein nodded. “Plan on being back before supper?”

“Nope,” he answered again, and lifted a box of food and cleaning supplies in the back.

Rein held out his arms, confusion etched on his face. “Hey we’ve had a lot of people say they were coming. It’s kind of our grand opening. Clay’s supposed to arrive, and—“

Dalton swung his gaze around and looked at his brother. “
Everyone
is exactly why I don’t plan to be around. You, Wyatt, Aimee, and Liberty can handle everything just fine.” He slung his old duffel bag on the truck, followed by a jug of kerosene and some fresh towels. “I’ll have my cell phone, but you know how sketchy the signal can be up there. Plan to bring back some walleye and make sure the cabin’s shut down for the winter.” He dug in his pocket, retrieving his keys.

“Wait a minute,” Rein said. “It’s because
she
’s going to be here, isn’t it?” He narrowed his eyes on Dalton.

He flipped his ball cap around on his head and leaned against the truck, crossing his arms over his chest. He slid his sunglasses over his eyes. “Let this go, Rein. I don’t have the time or energy for it.”

“Something’s eating you about her. And for the record, it appears that I’m not the only one who needs to let go.” Rein pointed his finger at him.

Dalton blew out an impatient sigh. “It’s not what you think. Even if I was interested—which I’m not,” he lied. “She sure the hell isn’t. Done. Conversation over.” He turned, grabbing the door handle, hoping that Rein would drop it.

“And you’ve talked to her about this?”

Dalton jerked open the driver’s door. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we did have a talk.” He crooked his fingers for emphasis and wished he’d left just a little earlier to avoid this interrogation.

“And?” Rein asked.

Belligerent bastard, that is.

Dalton swiped his hand over his mouth and eyed his brother. Angelique’s comments about his drinking and trying to forget her past still stung when he thought about them, which was every damn time he thought about her. “She thinks I drink too much.” He held up his hand to stop Rein’s response. “And I know that you and Wyatt feel the same. Hell, half the county probably feels I drink too much.” Anger simmered just below the surface. He needed to get out of there before he said something he’d surely regret.

“Dalton,” Rein’s voice was calm, much calmer than Dalton felt. “You do remember her mom, don’t you? Angelique grew up having to care for an alcoholic mother.”

He waited patiently for Rein to finish. “You know, I understand that, but just because her mom was a drunk doesn’t mean that I am.”

Rein held up his hands. “I never…we
never
said nor do we believe that you’re a drunk. I’ve told you before I get concerned because drinking seems to be how you handle your problems.”

“And you think I can’t control it?”

Rein shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Dalton climbed in the cab. “I’ll be back on Sunday. And for the record. there’s no beer in the truck.”

“Dalton, come on, man.”

However, the roar of his truck swallowed Rein’s words. He glanced at the rearview mirror once and saw Rein shaking his head. Fine. A couple of days would give them both a little time to cool down.

He stopped at the Git-n-Go to pick up a few things, tempted when he walked past the cooler to add a six-pack under his arm. Pausing, he eyed the frosty bottles. “Screw it,” he muttered and snagged the beer. If he wanted to relax with a beer or two, that was damn well his own business.

A few moments later, he surfed through several stations until he found one that came in clear as he zoomed along the winding two-lane road. He watched civilization disappear, smiling as he hummed along with the country music tunes, the summer breeze whipping through the open windows of his truck. No distractions. No drama. Just blessed solitude, and a little fishing for two glorious days.

Three hours, two snakes, and several cobwebs later, Dalton surveyed the open-room cabin, pleased with how few critters had actually taken up residence. He lit a fire in the stone fireplace, then dug through the cabinets and filled the kerosene lamps with oil. The ice he’d brought would last a day or two, at least. Bread, peanut butter, and some fruit would sustain him if fishing proved unsuccessful. Popping off the cap of one of the longneck beers, he walked out and stood on the front porch. Taking a long pull, he savored the quiet and looked for evidence that he might be sharing the area with the forest’s permanent residents. He noted deep gouges on the trunks of one or two trees likely made by antlers, reminding him of times when he’d wake early enough to watch the deer amble across the dirt road they’d hewn through the forest.

He inhaled the familiar comforting scent of warm wood and pine, letting go the tension that had been building inside him. Peering up at the sky through the sentinel of tall pine surrounding the cabin, he noticed dark, black clouds rolling in from the northwest. They could use the rain as long as lightning didn’t come with it. He took a pull of his beer and started back inside when he heard a soft rustle. Turning on his heel, he stepped to the edge of the porch. He scanned his surroundings, his eyes and ears attentive as they searched in the waning light of the pre-storm dimness. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as his eyes connected with the gaze of a Great White owl, feathers the color of virgin snow. The bird hooted once as if in greeting.

Dalton’s shoulders relaxed and he lifted his empty bottle in salute to the animal. The realization that he’d seen the bird on occasion soaring around the ranch didn’t fully hit him until a moment later. The bottle weighed like a heavy stone as he lowered his hand. He held the large owl’s luminous golden eyes. Not one to readily adhere to the superstitious lore that Michael Greyfeather often spoke of, he couldn’t deny the strange feeling that this owl being here was just a coincidence.

A heartbeat later, the bird spread its majestic wings and soared up through the trees, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. According to an old Indian belief, the Great Owl's appearance was sign of an impending storm. He eyed the darkening clouds and, glancing at the bottle, poured out the remainder over the side of the porch. A shrill ring startled him and he dug in his pocket, amazed that he even had a signal.

“Hey, it’s Wyatt.  Rein told me you’d headed up to the cabin. Just checking to see if you’ve got everything you need.”

Dalton smiled, knowing that Wyatt would never come right out and ask if he was okay. “I’m good. Just needed some time. Thought I’d make sure the cabin was closed up and ready for winter.”

“Probably a good idea. Rein also mentioned that you plan on fishing?”

He stepped to the edge of the porch and leaned on the railing. He wasn’t the only one fishing, apparently. “Thought about it, yeah.”

“Just checked the weather. Looks like a thunderstorm might be heading in. Hopefully, the roof won’t leak. God knows it’s been so dry we can use the rain, though.”

“I checked everything over when I got here. Things are just fine.” He toed the old floorboards with his boot. “Sorry I won’t be at the BBQ. But you’ve got plenty of help.”

“It’s still early enough in the day. You could still change your mind.”

Dalton’s mouth curved in a half smile. “Probably not.” Wanting to divert from discussing the reasons why he’d chosen his impromptu sabbatical, he brought up the recent odd sighting. “Hey, do you remember seeing this huge white owl hanging out around the ranch?”

Wyatt’s chuckle emitted from the other end of the line. “Yeah, in fact, I do, but not in a while. Why, have you seen it?”

“It just flew over a few minutes ago. Landed on a tree and I swear to God the damn thing just stared at me.”

“Yeah. You know what Michael says. It’s a sign of an unexpected storm about to blow in.”

Dalton looked up at the ever-darkening sky. “Yeah, I did notice the storm clouds.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Rein tells me the reason you high-tailed it up there had something to do with Angelique Juarez.”

“Rein is full of shit.” Dalton scowled, cataloging a reminder to take care of Rein when he got back.

“Just like another brother I know,” Wyatt responded. “I couldn’t help but overhear a little of your discussion with Angelique behind the barn.”

“Jesus. Can’t a guy have any privacy? And you wonder why I had to come up here?”

“Simmer down. I happened to be taking a ripe diaper out to the trash bin. I happened to hear part of the conversation, is all. It’s not really any of my business.”

“Damn straight, it’s not,” Dalton said. “Hey, gotta go. I want to go catch my dinner before the rain.”

“Okay, okay, take it easy.”

“I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” Dalton picked up his tackle box, checking his lures. “Oh, and hey, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention to anyone, especially Aimee, what you accidentally overheard.”

“Got it. And little brother, one more thing about that owl you spotted?”

“Yeah?” Dalton sighed.

“I was visited by it once. Just before Aimee breezed into my life.”

Dalton rolled his eyes upward. “Your point?”

Wyatt let out a sigh. “Just that maybe the storms can be us fighting the changes in life, not necessarily relating to the weather.”

“Thanks,
Gandhi
,” Dalton said with a chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind. His smile faded as his gaze landed on the Great White owl perched on a nearby branch, studying him.

“You’re an ass, you know that, right?” Wyatt said.

Dalton held the owl’s unblinking eyes. “So I’ve been told…many times.”

***

“So, have you found out any more about this Clay Saunders?” Angelique directed the question to Sally as they drove the back roads to the Kinnison BBQ. She glanced in the backseat and saw Aunt Rebecca staring out of the window as though deep in thought. No doubt. Angelique had unleashed on her everything that she’d kept bottled up for so long. And while sharing it lifted a weight that Angelique had carried forever, it seemed, the confession was now in her aunt’s heart. Processing it all would take time. As to how she felt about Dalton or the question of whether to tell him about Emilee—that remained a quandary.

“Hank is supposed to be bringing him to the ranch to help him get settled in. I guess having the BBQ was timed perfectly in terms of him meeting a lot of folks from the community.” Sally kept her eyes on the road.

“I guess he’s probably cute?” Angelique let the comment roll off her tongue, mostly to gauge Sally’s reaction. “I thought I heard Clay was a strapping Texas cowboy.” She caught her friend’s furrowed brow.

“Yeah,” Sally said cautiously. “Considering he’s a former football player, probably tan from spending time outdoors. Odds are good.” She turned to look at her. “Are you interested?”

“Me? Heavens, no!” Angelique responded. “I was curious if you might be.”

“I’m going to have enough on my plate this summer with shepherding those kids on a trail ride.” Sally said. “Still, a girl can look, can’t she? Say, speaking of being curious, you never did spill about what you and Dalton talked about the other night.”

“It wasn’t important.” Angelique glanced at Sally, then focused on the road.

“Really?” Sally asked. “Odd, he’s apparently not going to be around this weekend. I thought maybe it might have had something to do with your talk.” She crooked her fingers for emphasis.

Angelique kept her gaze forward, feeling her aunt’s eyes boring into the back of her head. She was partly relieved that she wouldn’t have to face him and yet selfish as it was, a slap of guilt smacked her brain. What was the point in telling him the truth about Emilee—then or now? What was done was done. Choices had been made.

“Angelique?” Sally’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”