"You'll take care of them yourself." Rick stood and pushed his chair under the table. "I don't want to hear this."
"I know what will happen if I don't come home. My parents will try to get my daughter. And that can't happen. Not ever. Promise me you'll make sure."
"If I promise, will you drop it?"
"Promise me," Jon said again. "I know you're a man of your word."
"Okay, okay, I promise. Now shut up about it!"
His friend's shape began to morph. Red spots bloomed on his chest, his face grew pale and stricken. Rick saw breastbone protruding through the skin before he awakened with a start to hear an echo still lingering in his room.
I promise.
He sat up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His heart was thumping in his chest like he'd just had a fright. He drew a few deep breaths until he got control of his racing pulse. It was over, he reminded himself.
Maybe these nightmares were going to continue until he checked on his buddy's family. This was the second dream in a week, and he always woke drenched with dread. Shaking off the effects of the dream, he climbed out of bed and pulled his clothes on.
Rick's nose twitched when he opened his bedroom door. Was that bacon? The tantalizing scent pulled him from the room and down the steps. His stomach growled, and he spared a glance at his watch. Holy cow, was it really that late? Though he'd only had about four hours sleep.
He heard banging in the kitchen. Charlie was sure loud this morning, but bless him for making breakfast. Rick stopped in the doorway and saw the tiny woman at the sink. The kitchen sparkled, even the tile underfoot. Every dish and pot was in place. Bacon sizzled in a skillet, and the eggs and hash browns looked crisp and tasty.
Allie whirled to face him. Her welcoming smile faded. Rick felt his own smile falter.
"Where's Charlie? I thought he was fixing breakfast."
"He's feeding the livestock. You're up late," she said.
He squinted at the clock on the wall. "I think it was four when we got to bed."
"Is Elijah up?"
"No, he's still out." He frowned. "You think you can win him over by cleaning the kitchen?"
Allie opened her mouth, then closed it again. That would put her in her place. Did she think she was Martha Stewart, coming in here and taking over?
She turned back to the stove. "Breakfast is ready." She ladled up a plate of food and handed it to him.
His stomach, traitor that it was, rumbled loudly in the kitchen. He took the plate without a word and sat down beside Betsy, who was finishing up her own serving of eggs and toast.
The little girl gave him a shy glance, and he tried to coax a smile from her. "Hey Betsy, have you seen the new baby?"
Betsy nodded, but the smile he wanted didn't break out. He glanced at her mom. What had she done to this kid?
"We saw him,"Allie said.
Rick frowned. "You always answer for her?"
"She doesn't talk."
"She won't ever talk if you don't let her."
"I'm her mother. I think I know how to behave around her better than you do."Allie turned her back to him and turned off the burners.
Touchy. She made him tense just by being in the same room. That was the trouble with women they came in and upset everything. He'd woken up in a good mood, and now he could tear the head off of a bear with his hands.
Betsy tugged on his hand and pointed to the door. "You want to go watch cartoons?" Rick asked. The little girl nodded. "Okay, but don't turn the TV up very loud. Let's let Elijah sleep."
The wooden chair legs scraped across the tile, and Allie settled into the chair. She wet her lips, and her eyes looked uncertain. "I thought I'd better formally introduce myself," she said. "I'm Allie Siders."
She paused as though she expected the name to mean something to him. That's when it hit, and when it did, his pulse leaped like spurred horse.
Siders. Jon's wife was named Allie. It couldn't be. The egg in his mouth formed an immovable lump.
"I'm Jon's widow," she said quietly.
Rick choked, then managed to swallow the bite of eggs. "Jon's widow?" His gaze locked with hers. Jon Siders. Even hearing the name made the grief and guilt well up like a spring. The promise he'd never kept had come here searching him out.
His promise to Jon rose up to mock him. He'd tried halfheartedly to find Jon's widow but couldn't. The Bluebird Ranch became his refuge, the safe haven where he could lick his wounds. His selfishness shamed him. Jon had sacrificed everything for him, and Rick was all too quick to abandon his promises.
Her eyes never left his face. "I know I should have called or written first, but there wasn't time." She finally looked away and cast her gaze to her plate.
The words he wanted to say locked behind the muscles of his throat. He wanted to ask her to forgive him, he wanted to ask her what she wanted, he wanted to tell her everything would be all right.
He choked back the confession of guilt and forced himself to cast a cool gaze on her face. "Why are you here?"
"Jon told me to come to you if I was ever in trouble." She said the words with an edge of reluctance.
"Are you in trouble now?" So he wasn't ready to honor that promise, even now. The responsibility loomed like a mountain.
"I'm in big trouble." She shut her mouth, then finally lifted her gaze. "I didn't even want to say anything. You've made it clear what you think of me. But I don't know where else to turn. Even if Elijah gives me a job, there's another ... issue."
The silence echoed in the room. The words he needed to say stayed lodged behind his teeth. He had to wonder what kind of trouble would bring her clear out here to what the Mexicans called El Despoblado, the land of no people.
Guilt seized him in its sharp teeth. Whatever it was, he had to help. He'd promised Jon.
"Aren't you going to say something?" she whispered, finally raising her gaze to meet his.
The color had leached from her face, and her blue eyes looked murky with an emotion he couldn't name for sure. Maybe fear and grief. His own grieving had thinned until all that was left was a wisp of fog that dissipated every day.
Her revelation brought it storming back.
He wet his lips. "Jon was my best friend."
Allie smiled then. "I know. His letters from Iraq were filled with stuff about you. He loved you like a brother. I I always wanted to thank you for trying to save him. I heard you were wounded trying to get him out."
Her blue eyes warmed then, and the gratitude in them was hard to take. He knew the truth.
"I failed him," Rick said, his voice harsh. Confession would be hard. She would hate him when she found out what really happened.
"You tried. That's all anyone could do."
"No." He pushed back from the table. "I wanted to contact you when I got back, but I couldn't find you." The silence seemed to grow louder before he finally broke it by clearing his throat and saying, "What's the trouble?"
"It would be a shorter list to tell you what's going right." She blinked rapidly. "It's been hard since Jon died, but we were doing okay. I was making the rodeo circuit in barrel racing and doing great. I worked at the rodeo as well. Then my parents died in a plane crash, and a month ago my sister was killed. There's no one left to turn to."
Rick wasn't good at platitudes. First Jon's death, then the rest of her family. Pity stirred in his heart. "You need money?"
"No! I'm able-bodied, and I'll support us. I don't want a handout." She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "Jon's parents are trying to get custody of Betsy. My world would end if I lost her." Her gaze came up to stare at him with a pleading expression. "One of your hands told me about this place, that it could help Betsy. I'd been coming here to see you anyway."
Just as Jon thought. He'd been adamant they shouldn't have a hand in raising his daughter.
"They've got grounds?" Though he framed it as a question, his tone suggested he'd have no trouble siding with someone who thought her unfit. It was hard t
o let go of his initial judgment of her. Elijah was right Rick shouldn't have assumed so much.
Lifting her chin, she stared him down. "None. But they say the rodeo isn't a fit place to raise a child, especially for a single mom. They want her to have a stable home with two parents." The fire in her eyes dimmed, and her shoulders sagged. "I want that for Betsy too, but I have to make a living, and the rodeo is all I know."
He ran through all she'd said in his mind. "Do they know you've come here?"
She shook her head. "I didn't tell anyone where I was going not even my best friend."
He forced out a question he didn't want her to answer. "What is it you want me to do?"
She spread out her hands. "I didn't know where else to turn. I thought I could hide out here, and just maybe Elijah could help Betsy the way he's helped other kids. I can't lose Betsy. I've lost everything else, but I can't lose her. But they might find me here too. I thought maybe with your contacts, you could make sure they can't get custody. I can't let them have her."
"That's true," he agreed. "Jon wouldn't want that."
She had put more faith in his ability than he possessed. He didn't have the kind of contacts that could save her from a custody suit. He stood and went to look out the window. An idea presented itself, a crazy idea. Not even Jon would expect him to go so far to help his wife and kid. His gaze lit on her old rattletrap truck. Both front tires were flat this morning.
He owed Jon his life.
No, he couldn't do it. There had to be another way. His thoughts raced, looking for a way out. A good lawyer could help. He had some cash saved. Turning, he looked at her and saw what a judge would see. A young woman with no steady means of support, dragging a kid all around the country. Put that up against two stable parents with plenty of money and a nice home, and Allie would lose.
He'd promised.
It wouldn't be forever. If he clung to that, maybe he could do it. What right did he have not to? Jon had counted on him. And, really, what would this cost him? Nothing in money. Only some time and a little inconvenience.
He went back to the table. "I made him a promise I've been too chicken to keep."
"A promise?"
"To take care of you and Betsy. I only know of one way to ensure Betsy isn't taken away from you." He hitched his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. "If you're married and your husband adopts Betsy, his parents won't be able to touch her."
The soft pink drained from her cheeks, and her blue eyes grew enormous. "Marriage? To who?" she whispered. "Are you crazy?"
"To me. You'll have a stable home, insurance for her care, a father to replace the one she lost." He finally found the courage to look her in the eye. "I'll probably be a lousy husband, but I think I could be a good dad. A stepfather would have no trouble adopting Betsy."
She swung her head from side to side. "I can't marry you. I don't know you. Neither does Betsy."
"Think of it as a temporary thing. Once the adoption is final, we can wait a few months, then get a divorce."
"Marriage should be more than a convenient arrangement."
"Do you have a better idea?" He waited until she looked away. "I didn't think so."
She held up her hand. "Just be quiet a minute. Let me think. There has to be some other way."
He pressed his lips together and prayed she'd think of something. But he knew she wouldn't. Sometimes only the hard way worked.
ALLIE COULDN'T THINK, COULDN'T GET HER MIND AROUND RICK'S OUTlandish proposal. The silence had gone on between them long enough that she managed to force down her breakfast, but it was as dry as the sand outside.
She couldn't marry him. Maybe she should just run back to El Paso and take her chances. He was the exact opposite of the type of man who attracted her. The Neanderthal type was too overpowering for her taste. She liked long, slim limbs and someone who didn't tower over her like a ponderosa pine.
Even more importantly, she couldn't run the risk of anyone taking Jon's place with Betsy. The little girl was already warming up to the big man. How well did she remember her daddy? The thought of her forgetting Jon broke Allie's heart. Jon deserved whatever it took to keep his memory alive in his daughter's heart.
Elijah stepped into the room.
"Breakfast, mujercita?" Elijah's dark eyes drooped with fatigue, but his step was spry.
Allie pinned a smile in place. At least she and Rick didn't have to discuss it now. "Good morning, Elijah. I hope you're hungry."
"I could eat Roscoe, the big bull in the back pasture," Elijah said. He took the plate of food. His gaze swept the kitchen. "You worked hard this morning," he said. "Thank you for taking care of us bachelors. I think we would win a title for biggest slobs, si?"
"My bedroom is neat," Rick said. "Too much military in me for me not to make my bed."
Allie avoided looking at Rick. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Elijah? I thought I might clean the house if that's all right."
"I'm in need of a housekeeper since my Rosa retired," Elijah said. "Would you want the position?"
"Of course!" There. She didn't have to marry Rick. There were surely other options.
"The housekeeper takes care of the accounts too. Are you trained in this area as well perhaps?"
"I I no. But if you showed me, maybe I could do it." She'd always had trouble with numbers. Her eyes jumbled them up as badly as letters. But she had to try for Betsy's sake. She would master it. If all went well, she could save enough to replace her lost glasses.
He nodded. "Rosa lives on the other side of the ranch. You might speak with her about the duties. I must warn you, the pay is not so much. You will get room and board for you and the nina, and a little besides for incidentals."
"I don't care about money," Allie said. "I just want Betsy to get better."
Elijah's dark eyes touched Betsy's head. "I want this too, mujercita." He glanced at Rick. "Would you object to giving us references, Allie?"
She bit her lip. If she gave references, her stalker might find out where she was. "I have good references, bu-but it would be better to keep my whereabouts quiet. Can you ask questions without identifying where the ranch is located?"
"I'll be careful with the questions," Rick said.
She would have no trouble getting a recommendation from the rodeo. She was careful to keep her gaze averted from Rick's. "Where will Betsy and I stay? In the bunkhouse?"
"No, you may take the small suite at the top of the stairs. There are two beds in it, and it has its own bathroom. I'm afraid we have no chaperone, but with the nina in the same room and an old man like me in the house, no tongues should wag in town."
Gossip was the least of Allie's worries. "Could you explain to me how the ranch operates? What you do here?"
Elijah cocked a gray eyebrow. "Rick, if you would be so kind?"
Rick shrugged. "Bluebird Youth Ranch encompasses nine hundred and fifty-three acres. Elijah started with rescuing abused and neglected horses."
Allie shuddered. "I've seen some of that in the rodeo. Breaks your heart."
Rick's gaze softened. "It happens more than anyone realizes. Owners turn the horses out to pasture and abandon them. A drought comes along, and the horses starve. They suffer mostly from neglect, not mean-spiritedness. But the end result is the same."
"Do you see abused horses too?"
"Yeah. I wish we didn't, but it happens. An owner gets mad when the horse doesn't turn out to be a Flicka. Or an abuser takes his rage out on his animal rather than his wife or kids."
"Go on with the story of the ranch. Sorry I interrupted,"Allie said.
"It's important to know the background. Elijah took in some foster kids back in the sixties. Some of them had been abused by their parents, and he found that the horses and children bonded in some amazing ways. They helped one another heal from past traumas. Bluebird was born out of his passion to help kids and horses."
Allie glanced at the old man. She didn't get him, not at all. How could he have su
ch passion for this work, yet turn his own child out onto the streets? Unless her mother had lied to her.
"Who runs the ranch?"
"I'm the foreman, but I talk everything over with Elijah. We've got three hands who live in the bunkhouse. They care for the horses and cattle that roam the ranch." He nodded at Elijah. "The boss has a group counseling session with the kids every day. I take care of the interaction between the kids and horses."
"What training do you have for that?" She didn't mean to challenge him, but it sounded like some pretty troubled kids came through here.
He didn't look at her. "I was one of those kids once. I've got a degree in social welfare."
"And I have a degree in psychology," Elijah put in. "The children are safe here."
Allie couldn't figure Rick out. She moved toward the doorway. "Thanks for the information. If you don't mind, I'll clean the house before we move our things in."
Elijah chuckled. "Mind? Rick and I will help. Right, Rick?"
Allie finally dared to look at Jon's best friend. They were going to have to talk about his proposal, but not yet.
"I'll clean the bathroom," he said.
Allie wanted to laugh, but she bit it back. The idea of the big guy on his knees, cleaning the porcelain throne, was ludicrous. But she might actually pay good money if she had it to see a sight like that.
5
THE BLOATED MOON SHONE IN THE WINDOW AND MADE MONSTERS OUT OF the dresser and nightstand in Allie's room. She closed her eyes against the images. There were enough monsters in her life. With all she had to do today, she'd managed to avoid considering Rick's proposal but now that darkness had fallen, it was all she could think about.
What if he had a temper or was some kind of pervert? The possibilities of danger were enormous. He could be a serial killer for all she knew. She thumped the pillow like it was the obnoxious man's head. Okay, maybe not a serial killer. Everyone said serial killers seemed nice, and Rick Bailey would never answer to that description. Rude and opinionated, but not nice.
What on earth had Jon seen in Rick to recommend him so highly? All she saw was a muscle-bound jerk who looked at her like she was a cow patty under his boots.