Running Scared (30 page)

Bibi’s call disturbed him. As long as he was here, close to Kate and Jon, he was like a campfire on the prairie, a beacon that would lead VanHorn to Kate’s front door. On the other hand, he was the only chance of protection they had. No telling what VanHorn’s plan was. Robert Sullivan’s intentions were clear—he’d do anything to get the boy back in the family. He didn’t give a damn about Kate or her son’s feelings. Then there was the Neider family to consider. Todd wasn’t about to stop harassing Jon unless his father stepped in and the old man had made his viewpoint pretty clear.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, kicking a bag of oats in frustration and sending a rat scurrying through a hole in the floorboards. Roscoe barked uneasily and Buckshot snorted.

Daegan had no choice but to put his cards on the table and tell Kate the truth. She’d be furious and hurt and probably tell him to go straight to hell, a place he’d visited more than once before in his lifetime. But the thought of not seeing her again, being separated from his boy, drove a stake of pain through his heart. He could fight her for custody, he supposed, and consequences be damned, but then she’d be sure to hate him with a blinding ferocity that would tear at him for the rest of his days.

Charging out of the barn, he felt the breath of the coming winter, fierce and unforgiving, in the wind at his back. A few flakes of snow swirled in the air, and ice had formed in the mud puddles from the rain they’d had earlier in the week.

He heard Kate’s car before he saw it, and dread pounded in his heart. Since that night on the porch when he’d kissed her and made mental love to her, they’d kept their distance, at least physically. She seemed to have been as shaken as he, and the few times they’d run into each other, they’d been polite, even friendly, but hadn’t come close to the same intimacy they’d shared in those few minutes of passion. But it had lurked there, just below the surface of their civility to each other, that simmering desire that created a raw ache deep in his soul and kept him awake at night for the feel of her beside him.

Her car ground to a stop and she flew out the door, her hair streaming behind her as her boots crunched furiously on the gravel. “Who do you think you are?” she demanded, her eyes snapping gold fire.

His heart nearly stopped.
She knew. Somehow, some way, she’d figured out why he was here.

She advanced on him and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You had no right, do you hear me,
no
right to bulldoze your way into my business.”

“Hey, whoa—slow down,” he said, ready to defend himself. Whether she believed it or not, Jon was his son as much as, probably more than, hers.

“I know you went over to Carl Neider’s place!”

That’s what this furious tirade was all about? Daegan nearly laughed with relief, but the consternation gripping her beautiful features stopped him short. “Weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t matter when it happened.”

“I figured old man Neider needed to know what his kid was up to.”

“And so you took it upon yourself to tell him to keep Todd away from Jon.”

“I just suggested he might not want to let his boy keep bullying other, smaller kids.”

“But—”

He lifted a dark, curious brow and watched as she snapped her mouth closed then threw her arms in the air and turned away from him, as if staring into his eyes was too distracting. “Jon’s my son, not yours,” she said finally and he felt a rip in his heart.
Oh, lady, if you only knew.
“I guess this might be all my fault, the way I let him come over here all the time to pester you and—”

“He doesn’t pester me. I enjoy having him around.” The honesty in his words caused her shoulders to stiffen.

She let out a long, slow breath, which formed a cloud in the frigid air. “Listen, Daegan, I appreciate all you’re doing for Jon. And…well, to be honest, I thought it was kind of nice—pushy, but nice—that you watched over the place at night. Jon…he needs someone other than me that he can look up to or depend on or whatever you want to call it, but you have no right to go up to Carl Neider or anyone else and threaten him and oh—”

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around, his fingers tightening like a manacle. “Something had to be done, Kate. Sheriff Sit-On-His-Ass wasn’t going to lift a finger and we both know it. He was hoping the situation would just fade away, but that’s impossible with Neider’s kind.”

“There hasn’t been any more trouble…”

“Don’t you wonder why?”

“No, I—”

“Because Carl Neider understands that I mean business!”

Kate tried to yank back her hand, but he refused to let go.

“I should have been the one,” she said. “Jon’s my son and—”

“And you wouldn’t have made near the impression I did,” he said, feeling a hard smile curve his mouth. “Neider heard me.”

“The whole damned town heard you, everyone but me! I heard it from one of my students, Daegan. Try and imagine my surprise and what an idiot I looked like as I didn’t know a thing about what was going on!”

“It was between Neider and me.”

“And Flo Cartwright—Neider’s girlfriend—she apparently overheard you giving Carl the business.”

He remembered the blonde lounging behind the screen door of the shabby trailer.

“This is a small town, Daegan. You shouldn’t have gone over there in the first place, but once you did, the least you could have done was tell me about it. This does involve my son, you know.” Her lips drew together in frustration and he saw a gamut of emotions play across her features. At this moment in time she didn’t know whether to hate him or love him, and he was hoping she’d find some middle ground. He supposed if she ended up hating him, which was highly likely, it would be better than if she was foolish enough to consider loving him. Love could only end in disaster. “You threatened him.”

“Within an inch of his life,” Daegan agreed, pulling her closer and leaning down so that his nose was nearly touching hers. “It’s the only thing bullies understand.”

“You had no other choice?” she demanded.

“I don’t think so, no.” God, she smelled good and the sight of snowflakes melting on her cheeks and catching in her hair nearly undid him. Her lips parted slightly and he saw the change in her eyes, a dark awareness that transformed her fury into a hollow yearning.

His response was quick and primal. “Oh, hell,” he growled and wrapped his arms around her, capturing her chilled mouth with his own. She seemed to melt against him, her heart a hammering echo of his own, her arms surrounding him as if it were the most natural act in the world.

A vital part of him, one he’d kept locked away for most of his life, struggled to break free. His eyes closed, and as the first snowflakes of fall swirled around them, he opened her mouth with his tongue, tasting and teasing and feeling the velvety warmth of her.

A soft little moan escaped her throat and he wound a hand through her hair, holding the back of her head while the other reached upward beneath her jacket to feel the weight of her breast. Her mouth opened farther and he rubbed a thumb over the cup of her bra, feeling her nipple harden and strain. Already his blood was on fire, his skin itching to rub against hers, his mind ablaze with images of her satiny body arching to his, joining in splendor, her breasts, ripe and peaked with dark button-tipped disks begging to be suckled. Their joining would be a hot, savage union that would leave them both spent and heaving, sweat dripping from their bodies.

He pulled the shirt from her jeans and his fingers scaled her ribs, touching, feeling, slipping the front clasp open.

“Daegan, oooh,” she whispered against his ear and he rubbed in slow, sensuous circles belying the fire running through his veins. “I don’t think—”

“Neither do I.”

“I mean…I should go home. Jon is expecting me…Oh, God, please—”

With all the willpower he could scrape together, he released her, letting her blouse and jacket fall back into place. Trying to ease the ache in his loins by shifting his jeans, he saw her take in a long, shaky breath as both her hands raked impatiently through her hair.

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” she confessed, and the honesty in her gaze pierced straight to his soul.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to rein in his galloping emotions, attempted to find that clear-thinking common sense that had seen him through the most painful and complicated portions of his life. “I’m not ready either,” he admitted.

“I—I don’t know if I’ll ever be,” she said softly, squinting up at him before walking to the old split rail fence separating the barn from the house. Wrapping her arms around a silvered post, she stared through the trees toward her place.

“You still love your husband.”

“No. I did for a long time, but Jim’s been gone for almost sixteen years. I don’t really remember what he looked like, even though I still have pictures. And Erin, my baby, she’d be a junior in high school now, probably have a driver’s license, be dating…” Kate blinked rapidly and looked away. With a squaring of her shoulders, she slapped the post and faced him again. “No reason to dwell on it, is there? I’ve still got Jon.”

But not for long,
he thought with a sick feeling that tore at all his convictions. How could he tell her the truth? How could he take her son from her? How could he not? Every day was one day closer to the truth—either from him or Robert Sullivan, and that meant they were one day closer to a day of reckoning when she would realize why he’d come here and then she would hate him forever.

“Does he look like his father?” Daegan asked suddenly and she tensed.

“Pardon?” she said, her voice nearly a gasp.

“You said you couldn’t really remember what Jim looked like. I wondered if Jon resembled his dad.”

She bit her lip. “No. Not at all.”

Tell her. Now’s the time!
“But he doesn’t look much like you.”

“He takes after Jim’s side of the family,” she lied, her mind racing wildly. Why did he want to know? Why now? How had she been so stupid to bring Jim and Erin into this conversation? “His…his brother. My brother-in-law.”

Daegan’s head jerked up. “Does he live around here?”

“No…still back in Iowa, I think, but we’ve kind of lost touch.” Oh, Lord, now she was getting herself into the thick of a mess she couldn’t get out of. She remembered her vow to Tyrell Clark, how she and Jon would remain without past ties, and now she was confiding in this man—a stranger to her really, a man who heated her blood, yet of whom she knew so little. “I’d better get back,” she said quickly, dusting hands that were cold as the November air. “Jon will be home any minute and I want him to eat something and do his homework before he gets any ideas about coming over here.”

“He’s always welcome,” Daegan drawled, staring at her with those stormy gray eyes that caused her pulse to jump and her heart to pound. She climbed back in her car, switched on the wipers, and drove the short distance to her house. But she kept glancing in the rearview mirror expecting Daegan—or someone—to follow her.

Don’t be paranoid
, she advised herself.
Just because he asked a few questions, he doesn’t have to be sinister or evil.
She slammed on her brakes and studied her reflection in the mirror, this time looking into her eyes and seeing the truth. She wasn’t afraid for Jon, not anymore. She was afraid for herself, because like it or not, she was giving her heart to the man living in old Eli McIntyre’s house.

“You’re comin’ to our house for Thanksgiving dinner, aren’t you?” Jon asked as he unbuckled the cinch of Loco’s saddle.

“Did your mom invite me or is this your idea?” Daegan asked. It had been three days since he’d seen Kate, and the invitation sounded suspiciously as if it had been Jon’s plan.

“She says it’s okay.” Jon stared at him with round Sullivan eyes and Daegan didn’t have the heart to turn the boy down.

“Sure, I’ll be there, then,” he said and felt guilty when he saw a smile stretch along Jon’s jaw and a light of anticipation brighten his gaze. What would he say when he found out the truth, when he realized Daegan was not only his father but a liar as well? A man who could ruin his life? “Just let me know what time.”

“Four o’clock. We eat around five or five-thirty.” Jon slid the blanket off the gelding’s back and tossed it over the rail of a stall. Snorting loudly, the gray searched for any leftover oats in the manger.

“Am I supposed to bring anything?”

Jon laughed. “Mom said you’d probably ask and she said just bring your appetite.”

Unfortunately Daegan was always hungry around Kate, but it didn’t have anything to do with food. Lately he’d been thinking of her, hoping to see her again, plotting excuses to get her alone. Ever since Bibi’s phone call, he’d been on the alert, listening to the town gossip about possible newcomers, keeping his gaze trained on the gate to Kate’s lane whenever possible. He’d also called a friend of his in Boston who was gathering information on Neils VanHorn. Before the guy showed up, if he showed up, Daegan would be waiting.

And then what?

The truth, damn it. No matter what it cost. He glanced at the boy who was his son. Jon’s face in the low wattage was set in concentration as he began to brush Loco’s muddy hide. At this moment he looked younger than fifteen, and Daegan felt a protective surge race through his blood. He’d missed Jon’s first words, his first uneven steps, the chance to teach him how to cast a fly into a swift mountain stream, the best way to break a tackle in football, and the importance of being your own person, but most of all, Daegan had missed the chance to be a father to his only son after growing up knowing what it felt like to have no father who cared. Could he really give up the rest of Jon’s youth as well—the few years the boy had left before becoming an adult? And what about Kate? Could he live the rest of his life knowing that she would rather spit on him than talk to him? How would he be able to rise each morning and know that he’d never see her or his son again?

Jon finished brushing the horse and together they crossed the frigid yard to the house where, as they did every time they were together, they split a Coke. Never mind that it was below freezing outside, together they sat near the old wood stove, sipped from chipped enamel mugs, and Jon told him about his life.