A Texas Hero

“I’m guessing this land is part of a big ranch and this section is leased for deer hunting. Since the cabin’s in disrepair and hasn’t been used for a while, my thought is that it’s up for sale.”

“But wouldn’t they need electricity?”

“Some guys like to rough it, but if we keep walking we’ll reach power lines and water.”

“I’d kill for a glass of water.”

He leaned back against the tree. “Rest. We’ll start walking when it’s cooler.”

She stretched out her legs and drifted into sleep. When she awoke, her head was on his thigh. She sat up and rolled her head from side to side, feeling a little better. The heat wasn’t so intense, but the need for water hadn’t left her.

Sweat trickled from Ethan’s hair down the side of his strong face. She was mesmerized by it.

“What would you do if I sucked the sweat off your face?”

With a gleam in his eye, he replied, “Depends how you do it.”

Staring into the warmth of his eyes, she felt a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. It had to do with hormones, chemistry and a titillating attraction between a man and a woman. It was wrong, wrong. Denying that didn’t change a thing.

She’d fallen for her rescuer.

* * *

EVERETT FELT LIKE a fool. He’d had another anxiety attack brought on by stress. His blood pressure was extremely high, too. A bad combination. The doctor had said he could have a stroke if he didn’t reduce the stress in his life. He’d gotten some medication to help, but nothing was going to help until Abby was returned safely.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the den he could see Chloe and Holly playing in the pool. His granddaughter was happy for now, but soon she would be asking for her mother.

“Everett, why don’t you lie down for a while,” Gayle said behind him. “I’ll wake you if the police call.”

“I’d rather sit in my chair. Chloe will be in soon and I don’t want her to think I’m sick.”

“Okay. I’m not going to argue with you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I’ll get you some iced tea.”

“Thank you.”

Gayle was being calm and rational, and that’s what he needed right now. He hated to think he was so weak he would collapse if something happened to Abby. Something had happened to his daughter and he was falling apart. That wasn’t easy to admit. He was an indoor, quiet guy, a retired banker. He was good at numbers. He often wished he was a rough and tough outdoorsman, but that just wasn’t his personality.

As Gayle handed him a glass of tea, the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Doug,” she said. “Please remain calm.”

“I will.” Taking a sip, he set the glass on a coaster. He knew the dangers and he wasn’t risking his health. He had to stay strong for Abby and Chloe.

Doug and a policeman followed Gayle into the den. Doug’s eyes went to the windows and Chloe and Holly playing in the pool.

“What’s Holly doing here?” Doug demanded.

Gayle bristled. “I didn’t realize we needed your permission to invite people over.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. Holly hates me and fills Chloe’s head with nonsense.”

“They’re playing, Doug,” Gayle told him. “So relax.”

Doug moved toward Everett. “I’m here for Chloe.”

“I know,” he replied. “She’s swimming as you can see. I had no right to try to keep you from your daughter.” Those were the hardest words he’d ever had to say and it was killing him to let go of his link to Abby.

“I’m glad you see that. I’ll get her.”

“If that’s all you need, I’ll be on my way,” the policeman said.

“Yes, yes, and thank you.” Doug headed for the pool.

“I’m surprised at you, Doug.” Gayle crossed her arms over her breasts.

Doug swung back. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you’d be more concerned about Abby.”

“I am. I’m worried out of my mind.”

“No. I meant when they find her. She’s going to need love, support and a shoulder to lean on. I’d assumed you’d want to be that person. But Everett and I are more than happy to be there for Abby. Under the circumstances, it’s probably best, too.”

By Doug’s stunned expression, Everett could almost read his thoughts. This was his opportunity to be there for Abby. To prove how much he loved her. Everett shook his head in disgust.

“You’re right, Gayle,” Doug said. “I’ve been so worried I hadn’t thought about Abby needing me.”

“You seem to forget about Abby a lot.”

Before Doug could respond, Chloe ran in from the sunroom. She climbed into Everett’s lap. “Did you see me swimming, Grandpa?”

“Yes, I did.” He stroked wet curls from her face. “You swim like a fish.”

“That’s what Holly said.”

Holly walked in with an oversize towel wrapped around her waist. Her eyes zeroed in on Doug. “I didn’t know rats came out of the sewer at this time of day.”

“Your daddy is here,” Everett said quickly before heated words could start.

“Hi, Daddy.” Chloe raised a hand, but she made no move to go to him.

Doug squatted by Everett’s chair. “Do you want to go to Daddy’s house?”

Chloe shook her head. “I have to stay with Grandpa. Mommy’s coming to get me.”

“Okay, sweetie.” Doug leaned over and kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Daddy has a lot to do, but I’ll come back for you.”

“No, Daddy. Mommy’s coming.” Chloe’s little face scrunched up in worry. Even at three she sensed something was not right.

“C’mon, cutie,” Holly said. “Time to get dressed.”

Chloe gave Doug a hug and ran after Holly.

Doug left without another word.

Everett looked at his wife. “I knew you were crafty, but you’ve taken devious to a new level. Doug didn’t even catch on.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t want Chloe to leave and I figured out a way to accomplish that.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not a monster.”

“I know, honey. I said things this morning I didn’t mean.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Did you mean it when you said we’d take care of Abby?”

“Yes. I’m not the motherly type, but I will try.”

“Don’t try, Gayle. Let it happen naturally.”

She kissed his forehead. “I’ll make us a nice dinner.”

“Chloe—and Holly, too?”

“Of course.”

His cell buzzed and he quickly pulled it out of his trousers. “Hello.”

“Mr. Baines, this is Detective Logan.”

“Yes, I know. Have you found my daughter?”

“Sorry, Mr. Baines, no. But a SWAT team and the feds have arrested Devon Williams at his girlfriend’s.”

“And Abby wasn’t with him?”

“No. He said the van broke down and he left it on the side of the highway in Houston. He called his girlfriend and she picked him up and they traveled to her apartment in south Houston. The girlfriend verified his story. He said he doesn’t know anything about a bank robbery.”

“You believe this?”

“Not for a minute. He’s being transported back here and I’ll get a crack at him. I’ll stay in touch.”

“Thank you.”

Everett stared at his phone and suddenly threw it across the room. It landed with a soft thud on the large Oriental rug.

“Everett!”

He told Gayle what the detective had said. “My daughter is probably lying dead in a field somewhere, and he just didn’t want to tell me.”

“No. No. Don’t say that.” Gayle wrapped her arms around him. “We’re staying positive. Do you hear me?”

“I think I will lie down.”

“No.” She kissed his face. “I’ll get the checkerboard out and you can play checkers with Chloe. She loves it.”

“But you hate it when we make a mess.”

“I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around him again and he held on tight. “Abby will come home, Everett. We have to believe that.”

And he did.

* * *

WITH EACH STEP, Ethan cursed himself. One look from her sleepy blue eyes and he’d let his guard down—allowed himself to wonder what it would feel like to have her lips on his skin. He’d come to his senses quickly, telling her they had to keep moving. She’d seemed startled, but complied. Concerning Abby Bauman, he had one goal—to return her safely to her family. That was it. No hanky-panky.

“E-e...”

He swung around to see Abby crumpled to the ground. He fell down beside her and lifted her upper body onto his thigh. “Abby!”

She’d passed out from the heat, and her breathing was shallow. Balancing her on his leg, he whipped his T-shirt over his head and wiped her face with it, running it around her neck trying to cool her.

“That feels good,” she murmured, opening her eyes. Lightly touching his chest, she added, “That feels even better.”

He slowly removed her hand from his hot skin, even though he had the urge to press it closer.

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“Oh. I’m so hot.” She moved restlessly. “I’m sticky and miserable.”

“Maybe take off your bra. It’s restrictive and might rub blisters.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, you want to get me out of my bra?”

“This isn’t personal.” He had to make that clear.

“Oh, no, we don’t want to get personal. That could get messy, messy...” Her head tilted against his chest.

“Abby, stay awake.” He rubbed her face and neck again and she stirred. “Is it a front or back hook?”

“F-ront.”

He slid his hand under her top and unhooked her bra, touching unbelievably smooth, soft skin.

“You did that rather easily,” she said, watching him.

“It’s in my repertoire of skills.”

“I bet.”

“Can you get it off? Or do you need me to help?”

“I can do it.”

Some of her stubbornness was back. She pulled her arms through the sleeveless top and finagled a strap over her arm and then another. Removing it, she threw the lacy beige bra into the leaves. Then she jammed her arms back into the openings.

They both stared at the lacy bra. “Can you imagine the conversation when someone finds that?” she asked.

“Only nocturnal creatures will find it, or birds will use it to make nests.” He looked down at her. “Ready to continue on?”

She reached up and touched his face. He froze. There was that thing again between them. He kept pushing it away and it kept coming back. Describing it was difficult. Attraction? Sexual awareness? Or gratitude?

He was well aware of all three, but their connection hinged on gratitude. He was positive of that.

A snort and a thrashing rumbled through the trees. Before Ethan could move, a big buck came charging out, leaped over them and disappeared just as quickly.

“What was that?” Abby sat up.

“A deer and I’m betting he’s headed for water. We have to follow.”

“Oh, water. Do you think it’s close?”

“We have to go to find out. Can you stand?”

She pushed to her feet and he slipped into his sweaty T-shirt. With his arm around her waist to steady her, they started off. She didn’t stumble or complain so he kept them moving. They stopped as the trees meandered down into a small overgrown valley. In the middle sat an old shack.

“There has to be a creek running by it. Let’s go.” He started off, but she stayed at the top. Glancing back, he called, “C’mon. What are you waiting for?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, Ethan. I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

What? She was delirious. That was the only answer.

“That’s crazy,” he said before he could stop himself. “C’mon.”

She walked toward him and against every sane objection in his head a delusional thought slipped through. He’d been waiting for her, too.

The heat had finally gotten to him. He was a hard-nosed, badass cop and he was well insulated from silly, romantic nonsense.

Until Abby Bauman.

CHAPTER FIVE

WALT PLACED A glass of iced tea in front of his friend Henry Coyote, Levi’s grandfather. Even though Henry was older by seven years, they were best friends. They were hardworking, hard cussing cowboys who were born and raised in Willow Creek, Texas. Henry had started a family early, while Walt had been thirty-five when Ethan was born. Henry’s son had been killed in a car accident and the son’s wife had moved to Austin with Levi and his sister. But Levi had returned every chance he got and lived here now. Like Ethan, Levi never strayed far from his roots.

Walt and Henry argued like two-bit lawyers and fought like bobcats. That is, they had in their younger days. They’d been there for each other through the bad times, the deaths of both their wives and the death of Henry’s son.

“Sure you don’t want to go to the Rusty Spur, drink some beer and play dominoes?” Henry asked.

“Nope. Not going anywhere until my boy comes home.”

“Levi is on the case and there ain’t nobody better at catching crooks than Levi.”

“Except Ethan.”

“Ah, shit...let’s don’t have this argument again.”

“Then don’t say your grandson is better than my son. And I told you not to cuss in my house.”

Henry shook his gray head. “You’re getting strange, Walt.”

“And you’re a baboon.”

“Stop using them stupid words you made up. If you mean bastard, say bastard.”

“You’re a hairy baboon with no manners.”

Henry slapped the table with one of his big paws. “That’s it. I’m going to the Rusty Spur to drink beer, play dominoes and cuss. Real cuss words that’ll burn your ears. Not some stupid ones I made up.”

“You better go then.”

“I’m going.” Henry shoved his worn hat onto his head and got to his feet. “I don’t understand why not cussing is so important to you.”

“Because Ethan asked me not to. He wants to have a good environment for his daughter.”

Henry leaned in and whispered, “She’s twelve. I know she’s heard cuss words.”

“It’s what Ethan wants and I’m doing it.”

“Well, don’t call me a baboon. That’s insulting. If you can’t say bastard, just call me Henry.”

“Goodbye, Henry.”

His friend tapped the table with his arthritic knuckles as if to make a point. “I’m sorry about Ethan.”

“I know.”

Henry ambled to the door and Walt took the glasses to the sink. Henry’s head was as hard as Walt’s, but they understood each other most of the time. If Henry thought not cussing was easy for him, then he’d better think again. Walt’s tongue was about to fall out of his mouth from sheer lack of use.

“Hey.”

Walt turned to see Kelsey standing there. As always, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. His last good nerve snapped at the word hey. He pointed to a chair. “Sit down.”

She scurried to a chair and he sat facing her. “Let’s get something straight. Whether you like it or not, I’m your grandpa. You can call me Grandpa, Gramps, Pop or whatever you’re comfortable with, but you will not call me Hey. It’s disrespectful. You got it?”

She raised her head and looked at him, something she rarely did. Long black hair partially covered her face, but Ethan’s brown eyes stared back at him. “Yeah, but you will not call me girl, gal or alien. You will call me Kel or Kelsey.”

Damn! She’d heard him say that. His gut knotted tight with guilt.

“Deal.” He extended his hand across the table. It took a moment, but she finally shook it. “I apologize for calling you an alien. That was out of line. I give you my word as your grandfather I will never do that again.”

“Deal.” She nodded. “Did they find Ethan?”

“No. They arrested one of the robbers and they’re questioning him now. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Okay.” She stood and twisted on her flip-flops. “Can I have some ice cream?”

“Kelsey, this is your home now, and you can have any food we have.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know. My grandma didn’t have a home and we lived with her older sister. She didn’t like me eating her food. When my grandma died, my mom and me lived in motels or rented rooms.”

Lordy, Lordy. What a life for a young girl—his granddaughter. A load of guilt hit him right between the eyes as powerful as a butt of a Colt .45. For Ethan’s daughter, he had to do better.

“You have a home now and can eat whatever you want.”

She opened the freezer, took out an ice-cream bar, and ran to her room.

Walt went out onto the deck and sank into a chair. Rowdy lay at his feet. He gazed past the chain-link fence to his pastureland. Cows lay in the shade of several big live oak trees out of the stifling heat. He’d check the water troughs later to make sure they had enough to drink. In this heat, they needed constant water. Wherever Ethan was, he prayed he wasn’t in the heat.

Walt leaned forward, bowed his head, and clasped his hands together. “Lord, I’ve been talking to You a lot in the past few hours and You might find that strange since I haven’t talked to You in years. Maureen, my wife, was a religious woman, and she talked to You daily. I figured that pretty much covered the bases for me. But there comes a time in a man’s life when he has to confront his maker alone. For me, that’s today. My boy’s been taken by some thugs. You probably know that, right? He’s a good man. You know that, too. He has a twelve-year-old daughter who needs him. I don’t know a thing about little girls, but I’ll do my best until You return Ethan to us. That’s all I’m asking, Lord. Watch over Ethan. Kelsey needs him. I need him, too. Thanks for listening.”

He got up and went back into the house with a purpose—to forge a bond with his granddaughter. It didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. Inside she was a scared little girl needing a home, family and love. Wrestling a steer to the ground might be easier than reaching Kelsey. But grandpas didn’t give up. And that’s who he was—Grandpa.

* * *

THE LIGHT-HEADEDNESS CONTINUED and Abby floated in and out of the clouds. Ethan’s hand rested on her hip as they walked and she knew she was okay. Weird thoughts ran through her head. Had she told Ethan she’d been waiting for him all her life? No. She hadn’t said that out loud. She was almost positive. Besides, she’d only known him a few hours. But inside her heart was a certainty that their souls had connected.

Ethan stopped and she glanced up. They’d reached the small weatherworn wood cabin. There was nothing but dirt around it. What little grass had been there had died. It wasn’t as run-down as the other cabin, and a porch graced the front. She sank onto the stoop.

“Rest,” Ethan said. “I’ll check things out.”

She lay on the wood flooring, totally spent. Suddenly a slight breeze touched her skin. Opening her eyes, she sat up. The breeze continued. She pulled the wet blouse from her skin and fanned it. Heavenly. After a moment, her mind cleared.

“Ethan.”

He strolled from the side of the cabin. “What?”

“The wind.”

“Yeah. It’s picked up.” He glanced toward the sun. “It’s probably about seven o’clock and the sun is going down.”

“We get a break.”

“Yeah.” He eyed her. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes.” There was something different in his gaze. Was he worried about her? She cleared her dry throat. “Did you find anything?”

“There’s an old-timey well out back with a rope and a bucket. The bucket is cracked and the well handle’s rusted, but I’m hoping I can find something in the cabin to use for oil.”

She followed him inside. The flooring was sturdy and the roof hadn’t caved in like the other one. Bunk beds occupied two walls. Faded sheets were still on them. A small cabinet with a makeshift sink and window took up another wall. A refrigerator stood in a corner.

“Without electricity, how do they run a refrigerator?”

“They bring a generator.”

“Oh.”

Ethan opened drawers and cabinet doors. “Not much here. Must be why animals haven’t overrun this place.” He yanked wide the doors beneath the sink. “Wait. What’s this?” He pulled out a large plastic container. “Peanut oil. Not much left, but it should be enough.” He reached for something in the top cabinet. “This stoneware pitcher is heavy and has a handle. We might be able to use it for a bucket.”

She trailed behind him out the side door to the well. It looked like so many she’d seen in landscaped yards. Of course, this one was very rustic. But it had a roller bar across the top with a rope and a crank handle. The bucket lay on the ground, useless. The housing around the hole was made of wide, weatherworn boards. The opening was covered with a heavy-looking metal object.

Ethan took a small scrub brush from his pocket. She hadn’t even seen him remove it from the cabin. He poured peanut oil on it and began to scrub the rusty crank. The well was in the open and the sun showered them with waves of heat, but it wasn’t as intense. Sweat rolled from his face. He had to be exhausted, too, but he never stopped. She wanted to help him. Using her better judgment, though, she just watched, marveling at the muscles working in his arms and the total concentration on his face.

She could imagine him pursuing a killer with everything in him. She’d never been this impressed with anyone in her life. And she wasn’t delusional.

“Hot damn,” he shouted as the crank began to move. After more elbow grease it made a complete circle. Then another.

“It’s working,” she cried.

“All it took was a little muscle.”

“And you’ve got those.”

He gave her a dark-eyed glance.

“What?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a secret?”

“Stop distracting me.” He continued to work the crank.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

He turned to face her. “One minute you’re half-conscious and the next you’re flirting.”

“I am not flirting,” she insisted.

“Whatever.” He went back to working on the well.

Maybe she was flirting, but he didn’t have to be so grouchy. And he wasn’t really as grouchy as he appeared. She knew that now. He was a nice guy with a big heart, which he kept hidden with his brusqueness. Ethan was one of the good guys. Even knowing that didn’t keep her from getting mad at him.

“Okay.” Ethan sank to the ground with the pitcher and the end of the rope. “The rope isn’t thick, so that’s good. The trick is to tie the rope to keep the pitcher from tilting. It has a narrow neck and a rounded bottom. If I tie to the handle, it will tilt. The best bet would be to use the narrow neck.”

He was talking to himself. She’d allow him that foible. After looping the rope around the neck, he tied a knot and then another.

“Is the rope strong?” she asked.

“I’m hoping. I pulled to test it and it didn’t break.” He placed the pitcher aside and got to his feet. “I have to remove the lid.”

“Can you? It looks heavy.”

With a wicked glint in his eyes, something she thought she would never see from him, he said, “That’s what these muscles are for.” And to dispel the notion that he might be flirting, he added, “Besides, I removed it earlier.”

He plucked off the heavy cover as if it weighed no more than a board. Placing it against the well housing, he stuck his head over the open hole and took a deep breath. “Ah, I smell water.”

“Water doesn’t smell.”

“Stick your nose over here, Ms. Doubtful.”

She leaned over and took a whiff. Her whole body vibrated with yearning. “Oh, oh, Ethan. There’s water. Hurry! We have to bring it up. I’m dying for a drink.”

“Patience.” He removed his shirt and attempted to wipe dust from the rope.

“Will that do any good? Your shirt is dirty and sweaty.”

“The well probably has bacteria in it anyway and cleaning the rope with a dirty shirt was the lesser of two evils I was thinking.”

“How will we know if it has bacteria?”

“When we get sick.”

“Oh, great.”

“But we don’t have much choice. Without water, we can’t survive in this heat.”

Abby licked her parched lips. “Let’s do it.”

Ethan laid his shirt on top of the cover and picked up the pitcher. With one hand he lowered it into the well hole and cranked it lower with the other hand. “Keep your fingers crossed the rope doesn’t break.”

Abby crossed her fingers, held her breath and watched the pitcher disappear into the dark hole.