Bodyguard Under Fire

Her heart warming at Cara Jo’s display of affection, PJ reminded herself how lucky she was to have Cara Jo in her life. When her adoptive mother had died of a heart attack, PJ had felt more alone than she had since she’d come to Wild Oak Canyon. If not for Cara Jo giving her a job and arranging with the resort for a place to live, she and Charlie would have been destitute. Then out of the blue, the scholarship had landed in her lap and PJ felt she was finally on her way to a new and better life for her and her daughter.

The bell over the diner door jingled and PJ glanced up, her heart flipping over.

Chuck entered, his gaze crossing the room to clash with PJ’s. Hank Derringer entered behind Chuck and then smiled and nodded toward Cara Jo and PJ. The two settled in the farthest corner in a booth.

“Want me to get them?” Cara Jo asked.

“No. I can do this.” PJ stiffened her spine.

“Does Chuck know about Charlie?” Cara Jo whispered.

PJ nodded, gathering two menus and two coffee mugs, her hands shaking. “He found out last night after he chased the attacker out of my apartment.”

Cara Jo whistled softly. “Wow, what a way to learn you have a baby daughter.”

A stab of guilt twisted in PJ’s gut. “Yeah. But what’s done is done. I have to live with the choice I made.”

“Any chance you two will get back together?” Cara Jo asked.

Her chest tightening so much she could barely breathe, PJ shrugged. She was afraid if she spoke, her voice would crack along with her composure.

“I get it. It’s too soon to talk about it.” Cara Jo gave her a pat on the back. “Go on. You’re tough—you can handle this.”

PJ wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t plan on hiding every time she ran into Chuck. Wild Oak Canyon was too small to think she could avoid him forever.

* * *

“ANY OTHER PROBLEMS after last night’s initial incident?” Hank asked.

Chuck dragged his gaze away from PJ as she strode across the black and white linoleum tiles of the diner toward them. He had a hard time focusing on Hank with PJ nearby. “What? Oh, no. I checked her balcony door locks and each of the windows and then bedded down in the hallway to make sure no one bothered her again.”

Hank sighed. “I figured something might happen, but I wasn’t sure what or when.”

PJ stopped at their table and set the menus and the empty coffee mugs in front of them. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Hank frowned. “Are you all right, my dear?”

PJ smiled down at the older man. “I’m fine, thanks to Chuck. I understand you hired him as the handyman for the resort.”

“I did. Thought we could use someone with carpentry skills who could also work with the horses since Juan is no longer with us.”

She nodded curtly. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”

As soon as PJ was out of earshot, Hank leaned closer. “I don’t want anyone to know I hired you to protect PJ. The less connection she has to me, the less chance of her being hurt.”

“What’s going on? All you told me was that I needed to provide protection to an employee of the resort. What made you think PJ needed protecting?”

“I got a call from an adoption agency in Flagstaff, Arizona. They noted that their computer system had been hacked, and PJ’s files had been the target.”

“And why would they call you?”

Hank glanced around the diner, his blue eyes darkening. “I knew PJ’s birth mother, Alana Rodriguez. She made sure that if anything happened to PJ’s adoptive mother, all correspondence or concerns should be directed to me.”

“Why you?”

“I helped her escape her abusive fiancé twenty-six years ago in Cozumel, Mexico. It was easy for her to fit into a new life in the United States. She spoke fluent English and had sandy-blond hair and green eyes just like PJ. I suspect her coloring was a throwback from her European Spanish heritage.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “Something tells me there’s more to this story.”

Hank sighed. “I told her if she ever needed me for anything to let me know.” He stared across the table at Chuck. “When she disappeared, her fiancé had the Mexican police arrest me, claiming I’d murdered Alana.”

“What happened to her?”

“I arranged for her to get to the States, gave her a new identity and she disappeared. I didn’t see her again.”

“How did you get the Mexican government to drop the charges?”

“With no body and no evidence of foul play, they couldn’t keep me. Although I barely got out of Mexico.”

“So why is this all surfacing again?”

“Her fiancé, Emilio Montalvo,” Hank slid a blurry picture of a Hispanic man in front of Hank, “had connections deep in the Mexican Mafia. He swore when he found Alana, he’d make us both pay. I stayed away from her, sure that any contact with her would put her at risk of him finding her. I didn’t know she’d had a child and the child was PJ until last year.”

“How did you find out?”

Hank’s gaze dropped to the empty coffee mug in his hand. “I found out when Terri Franks, a woman I barely knew who’d worked at the resort for the past eight years, died.”

“PJ’s adoptive mother.” Chuck’s gaze slipped from Hank to PJ, headed their way with a carafe of coffee.

Hank turned a smile toward PJ as she stopped to fill his cup.

“Ready to order?” PJ directed her question to Hank, refusing to lock gazes with Chuck.

They had a lot to discuss, but Chuck didn’t want to do it in public. It would wait until that evening when he could get her alone.

Hank and Chuck ordered breakfast, and PJ walked away.

“How did you find out PJ was Alana’s daughter, not Terri’s?”

“I received a package in the mail from Terri Franks’s attorney. In it was a letter from Alana, asking me to look out for her daughter should anything happen to Terri. In the letter Terri left with her lawyer, she explained how she’d been PJ’s nanny when they lived out in Arizona. Alana had arranged to have Terri adopt PJ if something should happen to her. I only wish I’d known then.”

“Why do you think the hacking into the adoption agency’s files points to you and PJ?”

“My corporate and personal computer systems were also maliciously hacked. All the data was downloaded to some site in Mexico.”

“Was your letter from Alana in those files?”

“No.”

“Then how would the hacker connect you to PJ?”

“PJ doesn’t know it, but the scholarship she’s going to school on comes from one of my corporations. The bank statements and money trail were part of the system hacked.”

“Any leads on who might be hacking into your system, or who might want to hurt PJ?”

“Anyone could be getting to me by targeting PJ.”

Chuck drummed his fingers on the table. “But hacking into the adoption files...that makes it a little more personal.”

Hank nodded. “Exactly.”

“You think Alana’s ex-fiancé might have traced PJ through the adoption agency?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“How long ago did you say it was when you helped this woman, Alana?”

Hank stared across the table at Chuck. “Twenty-six years ago.”

Chuck did the math in his head. PJ had turned twenty-five while he’d been in Afghanistan. His gut tightened. “The next question—and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might be important—but just who is PJ’s father?”

The older man opened his mouth and then closed it and smiled, his head turning toward the woman in question.

“Your breakfast.” PJ set a steaming plate of eggs, sunny-side up, in front of Hank and one in front of Chuck, her arm brushing against his, sending sensual shock waves across his senses.

Chuck’s fingers tightened on the napkin in his lap to keep from reaching out and pulling PJ into his arms.

PJ jerked her arm back, her eyes flaring wide for a moment. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“No, thank you,” Hank answered for them both.

Chuck couldn’t speak, his throat tight around his vocal cords. He wanted to hold PJ so badly, he had to remain completely still or risk leaping from his seat and taking her into his arms.

When PJ turned and hurried away, Chuck let go of the breath he’d been holding and faced Hank. “Were you and Alana more than just acquaintances?”

Hank nodded.

“So PJ could be your and Alana’s daughter.”

The older man lifted his fork and put it down again. “I don’t know. Without informing PJ of our connection, I don’t know how to get a sample for DNA testing. If she’s my daughter, she runs the risk of kidnapping attempts.”

“Like your wife and son...” Chuck had heard about Hank’s family before he’d deployed. Everyone in Wild Oak Canyon knew they’d disappeared two years ago and Hank had been looking for them ever since.

Hank stared across the table at Chuck, his face haggard, older than his fifty-something years. “I couldn’t bear for her to be hurt because of me.”

“You need to tell her,” Chuck said.

“When I know for sure.”

“The only way you’ll know for sure is to do DNA testing. You’d have to tell her something to get the sample you need.”

Hank threw his napkin on the table, his brows furrowed. “I couldn’t bear it if someone targeted another person because of me.”

“She might not be yours at all. Alana could have had another relationship with someone else shortly after disappearing.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Then why leave the letter for me?”

“She counted on you to help.” Chuck stared across the room at PJ, leaning close to an elderly woman, taking her order. “What if PJ is the ex-fiancé’s daughter?”

“Things might get even worse.” Hank’s lips tightened. “He’ll want what is his and will stop at nothing to take her and the child.”

Chapter Four

PJ felt as if she was walking on eggshells the entire time Chuck and Hank were eating their breakfast. Several times she fumbled coffee mugs, almost dropping them.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cara Jo rested a hand on her arm. “The world will not come to an end because the old fiancé is back in town.”

“I know. But we haven’t had the talk yet. I don’t know what he’s going to want in the way of visitation with Charlie.” PJ wrung her hands, staring at Chuck’s back. “He might sue for custody, for all I know.”

Cara Jo clucked her tongue. “Don’t borrow trouble, sweetie. He doesn’t strike me as the vindictive type.”

“No, but he’s always wanted children. He’ll want to be a part of Charlie’s life.”

“And that’s a problem?” Cara Jo’s brows rose. “Honey, a girl needs a daddy in her life. Not that you wouldn’t do a good job of raising her. But having a good male role model sets her up for future relationships and expectations of the kind of men she should date.”

“Charlie’s only three months old, for God’s sake.” PJ flung her hands in the air. “I’m not ready for my baby to start dating.”

Cara Jo chuckled. “I know. But having a good role model early in her life gives her a firm foundation when it comes to the kind of guy she might one day marry.”

PJ pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache forming at the thought of Charlie as a teen. “I don’t want to think about Charlie dating or marrying until at least after the terrible twos.”

“Order up!” Mrs. Kinsley yelled through the window from the kitchen.

Cara Jo handed her two plates of biscuits and gravy. “Sadly, it’ll be here before you know it. Take these to table nine, while I see if I can help Mrs. Kinsley catch up.”

PJ threw herself into taking orders and delivering food, busing tables in between. The hectic pace kept her too busy for her eyes to stray to the corner where Chuck and Hank sat, taking their sweet time over coffee. Still, her gaze found its way there every time she turned around.

Chuck’s broad shoulders and the high-and-tight military haircut made butterflies swarm in her belly and stirred the longing she’d thought was buried with the letters from Chuck she’d kept in a box beneath her bed.

She hadn’t opened them for fear she’d lose her determination and conviction that she was doing the right thing by moving on. Yet she hadn’t returned them or thrown them away. At first, he’d sent a letter every other day after he’d deployed to Afghanistan. When she refused to respond, the letters slowed to a trickle until about a month before Charlie was born, when they’d stopped altogether.

In her eighth month of pregnancy, PJ had never felt more alone. Sure, Cara Jo had been beside her, had gone to prenatal classes with her and coached her through the actual delivery, but it wasn’t the same.

The guilt of not having told Chuck of the baby and her continued longing gnawed at her heart. She hadn’t wanted to give her heart to him, knowing he’d leave her and possibly never come back. With her luck, he’d die just like every other presumably permanent person in her life. Her mother, what little she remembered of her, and her adoptive mother. Hell, she had never known her father.

Now she had Charlie in her life, and every day she worried that something horrible would happen to her. And it almost had the night before.

On her break PJ retreated to the diner office to use the telephone and dialed the number for the day care.

“Heavenly Hope Day Care, this is Dana.”

“Oh, good,” PJ breathed. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“PJ?”

“I know it’s overprotective of me, but I had to call and check on Charlie.”

“I’m holding her in my arms as we speak. She’s just fine.” Dana paused. “How about you? You sound a bit shaken.”

“I guess I am after last night’s attack.”

The phone clattered and Dana muttered an expletive before saying, “Sorry, dropped the phone. Now, what do you mean attack? You didn’t say anything about it when you dropped Charlie off. Did Chuck attack you?”

PJ shoved a hand through her hair and sighed. “Sorry, Dana. I must have forgotten, what with Chuck being there and all.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Chuck came in and saved the day.” PJ glanced around the office. “I have to get back to work. I just wanted to know Charlie was okay.”

“I’ll keep an extra special eye on her and let you know of anything out of the ordinary. Sheesh. Attacked? You better fill me in on all the details this afternoon.”

“I will.”

“That’s something a girl doesn’t forget. I guess having Chuck around has you completely rattled.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” PJ said her goodbyes and hung up. When she returned to the dining room, her gaze went straight to the empty corner booth.

The tension eased from her shoulders, and she let go of the breath she’d been holding for what felt like the entire morning.

The sooner she got used to having Chuck around, the better. No doubt, knowing he had a child, the big cowboy wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

The rest of the morning passed quickly with customers straggling in for late breakfast and then into the lunch hours. PJ glanced toward the door every time the bell above it jingled, half expecting Chuck to stride through.

Her nerves were shot by the time the lunch crowd thinned and she hung up her apron. “If you don’t mind, I have to leave early to get some errands done and study before I pick up Charlie at the day care.”

Cara Jo smiled. “No problem. I can handle the cleanup. Go on. And PJ...”

PJ slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and faced Cara Jo.

“Things will turn out for the best. Just you wait and see.” Cara Jo hugged her.

PJ returned the hug, her vision blurred with ready tears. “I hope so.” She left the diner and climbed the back stairs to her apartment over the resort. The shadowy hallway made her hurry along, her key at the ready.

When she stepped into the apartment, her gaze darted all around the postage stamp-size living-room-and-kitchen combo. The normal scents of talcum powder and baby shampoo held a hint of aftershave.

PJ shivered and wondered when that smell would dissipate. She vowed to throw open the windows when she got home that evening to air it out.

As she grabbed her notebook and papers from her corner desk, she paused. The photo album she kept on the shelf above her ancient computer stuck out a little more than usual. It hadn’t been that way that morning when she’d straightened her desk before heading for work.

Her chest tightened as a chill slipped across the back of her neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. How long would it take to erase the memory of a man breaking and entering her home? Not only had her apartment been breached, but her safe haven had also been compromised.

Every little thing that seemed out of place would get more scrutiny. PJ shoved aside her paranoia and left, carefully locking the door. As a second thought, she tore off a corner of one of her papers and slipped it between the door and jamb above the lock. If someone broke in, the paper would be displaced. Call her crazy, but she needed some measure of security, and though minuscule, the little trick left her feeling a little more in control.

Her apartment behind her, PJ climbed into her car and headed for the law offices of Hanes and Taylor. She had to know what her rights were and what she might face if Chuck decided he wanted custody of Charlie.

Even the slimmest chance of losing custody of her baby had PJ’s gut so knotted she could hardly breathe.

* * *

THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Chuck worked on projects ranging from replacing rotted eaves to mucking stalls. In between tasks, he made it a habit to swing by the diner’s wide windows to peek in at PJ.

So many times during his tour in Afghanistan he’d dreamed of seeing PJ again, of holding her in his arms. In his imagination, he could hear her voice telling him she’d been wrong, that she wanted him in her life no matter what profession he chose.

Those dreams had helped him hold it together during the dangerous missions. The thought of coming back to Wild Oak Canyon to salvage his relationship with the woman he loved ended in a hero’s welcome. Such were his dreams.

The reality was, PJ had lied to him by withholding information about Charlie. If Chuck hadn’t returned to Wild Oak Canyon, he’d never have known he had a daughter.

His chest swelled as he thought of the tiny baby, lying in her crib, her soft tuft of hair like silk against his fingers.

He’d smashed his fingers with a hammer more than once, losing his focus over little Charlie. And the more he saw PJ through the window, the more he alternated between wanting to hold her and wanting to shake her.

Around noon, he ducked into the resort office.

The young woman manning the counter, barely out of her teens, smiled. “May I help you?”

Chuck read the name tag. “Hi, Alicia. I’m Chuck, the new handyman.”

Alicia reached across the counter and shook Chuck’s hand. “Welcome to Wild Oak Canyon Resort.”

“Do you know of any repairs that need to be made in any of the rooms?”

The young woman behind the counter smiled and shrugged. “I only work part-time in the afternoons after my classes get out at the community college, so I don’t always get the 4-1-1. You’ll have to ask the new manager.”

“Ms. Smithson?” Chuck asked.

“Yes, sir. You can find her at the diner until about two. Then she’ll be back in her office at the resort.”

Chuck glanced at the old-fashioned guest register on the counter, committing the names on the list to memory. Perhaps one of the guests was PJ’s attacker. “Are there many guests this time of year?”

“It’s a slow season, from what they tell me. Only about twenty-five people are here for the week. Many are planning to attend the rodeo in the neighboring town. We get the overflow.”

Chuck made a note to work with Cara Jo to review the list of guests and to get Hank to run a background check on any who might be questionable. Since the attack had just happened only the night before, whoever did it could be new in town, thus needing a place to stay. One close enough where he could study PJ’s every move. Chuck’s fists tightened. The sooner he discovered the culprit and put him in jail—or out of his misery—the better. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Alicia.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Chuck went back to work in the stable. By early afternoon, he’d finished mucking stalls and was just emptying a wheelbarrow full of manure in the pile behind the stables when he saw PJ’s car pull out of the rear parking lot of the resort. Even if he hadn’t been tasked with protecting the confounded woman, curiosity got the better of him.

Chuck dusted off his jeans, climbed into his truck and followed. Wild Oak Canyon wasn’t a big enough town to boast a single stoplight. A couple of dozen streets crisscrossed in straight lines on the flat terrain.

PJ pulled into a building a few blocks from the diner.

Chuck waited at a stop sign until PJ went inside before he passed. His heart skipped several beats when he read the sign in front of the neat little house, converted into a business. Hanes and Taylor, Attorneys at Law.

Was that the way she’d play this? Anger spiked as he turned the corner and circled the block. Most likely she was getting legal advice about child custody.

As Chuck rounded the block and came back out on Main, PJ’s car was pulling away from the curb. She hadn’t had time to consult with anyone. She had probably only set up an appointment.

Chuck’s jaw tightened. Tonight, he and PJ would have a talk about Charlie’s future. A future that would include Chuck, by God.

Feeling a bit guilty over stalking PJ, Chuck left a big gap between his truck and her car.

PJ’s next stop was on the other side of town at a quaint little church with a fenced playground out back and a sign out front with the words painted in block letters, Heavenly Hope Day Care.

Chuck kept his distance, parking in an abandoned gas station until PJ came out.

Twenty minutes later, he’d about given up when PJ emerged carrying an infant car seat, Charlie’s little head barely visible over the sides. Her tiny hand waved at the sky, bringing a smile to Chuck’s face.

He wanted to hold his little girl, to get to know her and watch her grow.

Had PJ not shut him out of her life, Chuck would have moved heaven and earth to be there when Charlie came into the world. He sighed. Then again, the army didn’t always let soldiers out of their deployments for the births of their children. Even had PJ told him he was going to be a father, he probably wouldn’t have gotten a furlough to return home for the event.

He could understand some of the reasoning behind PJ keeping the birth of his child from him. But Charlie was three months old. Chuck had been back in the States for a month of that, in the hospital for rehab and then processing out of the military.

After almost a year’s separation, he’d thought he’d be over PJ, but that was as far from the truth as he could get.

The woman had never been far from his mind, and his job of protecting her would only put them closer still.

Chuck considered asking Hank to pull him from this case. But who did he know he could trust to guarantee PJ’s safety? And who had as much at stake when it came to Charlie?

If the Mexican Mafia was after PJ and Charlie, he’d need a friggin’ army to surround her, especially in this part of south Texas where drugs traveled across the border seemingly unconstrained. There were enough Mafia members on both sides of the border that if they wanted PJ and Charlie, one cowboy wasn’t going to stop them. Chuck wondered if the four cowboys Hank had hired made up the entirety of Covert Cowboys, Inc., or if Hank had additional help he hadn’t met yet.

Chuck stayed behind PJ as she drove back to her apartment. He gave her five minutes to unload and get into her room before he parked and climbed out.

The more he thought about PJ and Charlie being at risk with the Mexican Mafia, the more he needed to know about those he might be up against. A visit with Hank’s computer guru who had access to just about anything that had a computer footprint was in order. But first, he had to make sure PJ and Charlie would be okay.