Riding Shotgun

The problem was there was just no connection anywhere else. He’d actually been glad when his leave was over.

Except for leaving Jaci. It always hurt like hell to say goodbye to Jaci.

She was three months old when he saw her for the first time. He’d been anxious, afraid he wouldn’t bond, nervous that he’d be expected to hold her or even tend her alone.

And then he’d peeked into the crib and she’d kicked her tiny feet, waved her pudgy arms and smiled up at him. His heart had melted like a slab of butter in a hot skillet.

The sting he’d expected a few seconds earlier finally hit. Struck everywhere at once, pain scalding his skin and burning his insides, the way it had on that pitch-black night when he and his team members had crawled through the mud into a bed of huge fire ants.

Leslie was welcome to a new life with anyone she chose, but he would not just turn over his parental rights like Jaci was a prize in a competition. Might as well get that straight right now.

“I’m good with you remarrying, but I left the navy SEALs to come home and be a father to Jaci. I am going to be in her life, and not just as a bystander who gets to show up a couple times a year at your convenience.”

“I didn’t expect that you would, though you missed the first five years by choice.”

“That’s not fair. I served my country. I was with you and Jaci every opportunity I had.”

“That’s a moot point now, but you should know that Dan and I will be moving to Cuba next week.”

“Cuba? You’re moving to Cuba?”

“Temporarily. Dan works for a wealthy developer and is researching possible business opportunities now that the two countries have reopened ties.”

The impact of her words hit with dizzying force. His muscles tensed.

“You can’t take Jaci to Cuba without my permission. I’m her father. I have rights.”

“I haven’t threatened your rights, at least not yet.”

“If you try to leave the country with her, you better be ready for the fight of your life.”

“Keep your voice down. You’ll upset Jaci.” Leslie closed the bedroom door. “If all goes as planned, Dan will finish the assignment and we’ll be back in the States within six months.”

“So you worked out all the details before you even ran this by me?”

“It’s come up suddenly. I haven’t even mentioned this to Jaci yet.”

Pierce stabbed his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans. He was angry, frustrated. And now he was confused. “When do you plan to spring it on her, when you’re boarding the plane?”

Leslie sighed and shook her head. “If you’d just let me explain.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Of course, I had planned to take her with me. I had no other choice, since you were never around.”

“I’m here now.”

“Yes, and Dan and I have talked about that at length. If you’re willing to care for Jaci until I’m back in the States, we can work out a temporary custody arrangement that puts you in charge of Jaci’s care.”

He couldn’t have heard that right. “You’ll give me custody of Jaci?”

“Shared custody, actually. But she can live with you, that is, if you think you can be a reliable full-time parent. It is time she gets to know her father.”

Jaci would live with him. Full-time for the next six months. He’d be responsible for her. When she was sick. When she cried. When she had nightmares. When she was hungry.

She was only five. She probably still needed help with even the little things like her bath and getting dressed. And with brushing her hair. He’d never brushed anyone’s hair in his life. He wouldn’t know how to start.

“If you don’t want her—”

“No,” he interrupted quickly. “It’s not that.” His head was spinning. “Jaci barely knows me. She clearly doesn’t like or trust me. How will it affect her if she thinks I took her away from you?”

“She won’t think that. We’ll tell her of the decision together, convince her this will be a great adventure for the two of you to share. I need this, Pierce. Dan wants me with him. I want to be with him.”

Her voice had taken on a desperate edge. Obviously, new man Dan wielded a powerful influence over her.

“I’ve raised Jaci practically by myself, Pierce. It’s your turn to take some of the responsibility for our child.”

He couldn’t argue with that and deep inside he didn’t want to. He’d come home to bond with his daughter, to be a real father like his father had been before death had claimed him years before his time.

Jaci would live with him. He would be solely responsible for her care, her health, her happiness. It was the scariest challenge he’d ever faced in his life, and that was saying a lot.

He might no longer technically be a SEAL, but he was in his heart. Now it was time to put that same energy and commitment into being a full-time father.

Failure was not an option.

Bring it on.

Chapter Three

“You have got to be kidding. Your wife, who barely let you speak to your daughter on Skype, much less on the phone for the past six months, is suddenly going to toss her to you like a deflated football?”

“Poor analogy, but that’s about the size of it,” Pierce said as his brother Riley questioned the current scenario. He changed his phone to his left hand, picked up his half-finished beer with his right and took a swig.

“But I can’t say much against Leslie. I know she loves Jaci and I think she really wants our daughter not to be traumatized by the divorce.”

“I hope that works out for all of you. When did this custody offer come down?” Riley asked.

“Two days ago when I arrived in Chicago.”

“You’ve been back in the good old USA two days and you’re just now getting in touch with me?”

“No. I texted you two days ago and again yesterday. Do you ever check your messages?”

“Every now and then.”

“Where are you anyway?” Pierce asked. “Tucker said last he heard you were in Colorado.”

“That was four or five months ago. I’m in Montana now. Too long in one place and people start thinking you’re permanent.”

“By ‘people’ you mean women?”

“And the occasional employee. Actually, I’ve been on a cattle drive up into the mountains. Wide-open spaces and the biggest, bluest sky you can imagine.”

“Tucker said you’d be somewhere hanging out with cows and horses.”

“It’s in my blood. And his, I might add. How is our younger brother anyway?”

“Still chasing the next rodeo, but having a pretty good year according to him.”

“If he admitted that, he’s probably headed to a world championship. But back to the issue at hand. What’s Jaci’s reaction to being deserted by her mother?”

“She seems okay, though Leslie says Jaci is being excessively clingy since we told her about the arrangement. She sees this as more my fault than her mother’s. None of this would be happening if I hadn’t come home.”

“I hope Leslie isn’t feeding into that.”

“Not to my knowledge. Leslie keeps assuring her that this is only temporary and that I am going to take her on a grand adventure.”

“So what’s the adventure?”

“I wish the hell I knew.”

“Better come up with something fast. I can’t quite picture you playing with her Barbie dolls and going shopping for frilly dresses.”

“Neither can I.”

“Here’s a thought. Forget the little-girl stuff. Get her some jeans and cowboy boots. Take her to a dude ranch.”

“She does like cowboys.”

“I like the kid better already. You could probably use some new boots and a winter Stetson yourself. Pick up a couple of Western shirts and you’ll be good to go. You’ve always had the swagger.”

“And the looks in the family.”

“You’re delusional. Wait a minute. I’m getting a brain jolt here. Forget the dude ranch. I know exactly where you and Jaci should go on your adventure.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Texas. Go spend some time with the Kavanaughs. God knows Esther and Charlie were lifesavers when we lost our parents. Not that Jaci has literally lost her mother the way we did, but it must feel almost that way to a five-year-old.”

“You know, that’s not a half-bad idea. I’d love to see Esther and Charlie. Haven’t heard from either of them in almost a year, maybe longer.”

“Me, either, but Tucker spent a few days with them last summer when the circuit took him to San Antonio. Said they were still holding the Double K Ranch together and doing fine. Claimed it was just like old times. Except for getting a little older, they hadn’t changed a bit.”

Pierce considered the option. Spending a few days with Esther and Charlie might be the best place to start his six months of bonding with Jaci. He’d truly love to see them and there was no one’s advice on child care he’d trust more than Esther’s. She was love itself.

And Charlie. Well, there was no one else like Charlie, either. Contrary as a mule, said what he was thinking and thought everyone should carry their share of the load.

But when your world had come to an end, as Tucker, Riley and Pierce’s had when their parents had died instantly in a car crash, Charlie and Esther were the ones who’d stepped in. They’d taken them into their home so they wouldn’t be separated, helped them through the grief and given them the courage to go on.

“Don’t go getting the big head, but I think you just landed on a capital idea,” Pierce said.

“Glad I could help and it’s about damn time you get back to your Texas roots, bro.”

“You could be right about that, too.”

“Keep me posted and good luck with full-time fatherhood.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

Boy, was he going to need it. But at least he had a plan and Texas on his mind.

* * *

GRACE TOOK HER right hand from the wheel and massaged her aching neck. It was her third day on the run, keeping to back roads, avoiding towns, stopping only at service stations where she could fill the fuel tank, use the facilities and grab a bite to eat.

She was lonely, frightened, discouraged, sometimes downright angry that life wouldn’t give her a break. She’d done the right thing. Persevered on the side of justice. Cooperated with the authorities.

Didn’t she deserve a chance at happiness or at least not to live in constant fear that her ex-husband would find a way to exact revenge?

A weariness settled in her bones and her eyelids grew heavy. It was too early to stop for the night, still a good hour left before sundown.

She lowered the window so that the cool air could slap her in the face and hopefully ward off the fatigue. The air had an unfamiliar fragrance. Perhaps hay, she thought, as she spotted rolls of it in the fenced pasture to her left. Cows grazed in one section, several horses roamed another.

A strand of towering pines was to the right of the car, interspersed with oaks, junipers, sycamores and a few trees she didn’t recognize. Scattered leaves clung to the nearly bare branches. Blackbirds gathered on telephone wires. A dog barked in the distance.

She’d never intended to drive south when she’d fled Tennessee. She’d started driving northwest, but winter storms had altered her travel plans. Desperate to put distance between herself and the man who’d snapped her picture in the library, she’d loaded her car and escaped in the middle of the night. Texas had never been in her plans, but here she was, deep in the heart of the Lone Star State, traversing countryside that seemed miles from civilization. But that was only an illusion.

She’d seen the sign and bypassed the small, rural town of Winding Creek less than ten minutes ago. San Antonio was somewhere to the southeast of her. Mexico was due south.

She planned to meander west, get her head on straight and settle her nerves before she made any permanent decision.

Her foot eased on the accelerator and she faded into her thoughts and into a time back before she’d known fear. A time when she’d had friends and her grandparents were still alive. A time when she’d had dreams. A time when she’d slept without nightmares.

Her car began to shake, the jolts yanking her back to attention. Her right tires had left the shoulder. Her grip on the wheel tightened as she fought to get the car back on the road. Once steadied, she realized how close she’d come to veering off the side of a narrow bridge.

She could have killed herself. Crazy when she was pushing so hard because she wanted to stay alive.

She had to stop, take a walk, or maybe a brief nap. Spotting a dirt road up ahead, she slowed to see if it was a driveway or some type of ranch road. It looked more like a road to nowhere.

Only one way to find out. She turned right. The road was half-washed-out with deep holes and ruts so numerous they were impossible to avoid completely. The land on both sides of the road was fenced and heavily wooded.

After about five minutes, she reached a point where she didn’t dare go farther for fear of getting stuck. She opened the door and stepped out. She felt totally isolated, as if she’d driven off the end of civilization.

The quietness was broken only by squawking crows and the inharmonious cadence of what must be hundreds of katydids and tree frogs. A huge blue lizard rested lazily atop a weathered fence post.

Perhaps a walk would do more to get her blood pumping than a nap. Grabbing her bright yellow cardigan, she tossed it over her shoulder.

The weather forecast was for rain and a cold front moving in tonight, but apparently the words cold front had a different meaning here than they did in Tennessee. It was supposed to dip into the low forties tonight.

Locking the nondescript compact car she’d traded down for from a used car dealer in Nashville, she made her way down the bumpy road, careful to avoid tripping.

The scenery changed gradually, the woods thinning and then giving way to wide-open pastures. Clusters of cattle dotted the pastoral landscape, most grazing. At one point there were several near the fence line, much larger than they’d seemed from a distance.

Grace loved horseback riding, but had never been on a real ranch before. She didn’t favor the idea of being up close and personal with a cow, especially one of those Texas longhorns she’d spotted over the past two days.

The path, or what was left of it, veered right and began to climb. Grace topped a low hill and then stopped to breathe in a few gulps of the clean-smelling air. She could hear the rush of water in the distance, perhaps the river that flowed beneath the bridge she’d almost crashed into.

She used her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the late-afternoon sun as she scanned for sight of the river. She didn’t see it, but surprisingly she spotted a white clapboard house right there in the middle of nowhere.

It sprawled out in all directions, its dark green shutters and front door making it appear almost like an extension of the land. The place looked so homey, so welcoming, Grace felt a twinge in her heart.

She imagined a family inside, the mother at the range preparing dinner or perhaps helping the kids with homework around a wide kitchen table. The man, tired from a day in the fields, watching the evening news. The setting cozy. Loving.

A life Grace would never have.

She turned to leave. A wailing noise stopped her. An animal? The screech of a bird? Surely cows didn’t make that sound.

She heard it again. What if it wasn’t an animal? What if someone needed help? There was no way Grace could leave without checking.

Her concern for herself taking a backseat, Grace carefully maneuvered herself through the barbwire and into the pasture, praying she wouldn’t confront a cow or, worse, a bull. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as she raced toward the sound.

As she got closer, the sound became more distinct. Definitely human. A child or a woman. And it was coming from the vicinity of the house.

* * *

ESTHER BIT BACK tears and whispered a prayer for help. She tried to stand again, pushing herself up from the hard dry earth. Pain shot through her leg, even worse than before. She fell back to a sitting position.

The right ankle was beet red and already swelling.

It was her own fault. Trying to save herself a trip, she’d tried to fetch too much firewood at once. She would have made it, though, if she hadn’t stepped in a hole some darn critter had dug right there by the woodpile.

Her ankle had twisted, the heavy load had thrown her off balance and she’d toppled like a tower of kids’ blocks.

Her fault, but how was she to know that hauling firewood was so tricky? Charlie had done all the hauling for their entire married life.

Salty tears began to roll down her cheeks—not all from the pain in her ankle. She missed Charlie. The house was too quiet without him, her life too lonely.

Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to solve anything. Staying outside with the forecast of rain and a cold front coming in was unthinkable. Not to mention that the gnats and mosquitoes would eat her alive.

She’d just have to suck up the pain and drag herself to the back door and into the house. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

But just in case her hired wrangler, Buck Stalling, hadn’t already left for the day, she’d yell one last time.

“Help! Helllp!”

“I’m coming. Hold on. I’m coming.”

Esther almost jumped out of her skin. That was a woman’s voice, unfamiliar. She wasn’t expecting company and she hadn’t heard a car drive up.

Maybe she was just imagining things. A sad state of affairs that would be.

“Where are you?”

Definitely a voice. “I’m around back,” she called.

A young woman she’d never seen before appeared from around the side of the house. When she spotted Esther, she hurried over.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

The fierce panic she’d been feeling melted away like a snowball in a sweaty hand.

“I was fetching a heavy load of firewood. Couldn’t see where I was walking and stepped in a hole.”

The stranger kneeled beside Esther and lightly touched the spot that radiated pain. “Looks like you sprained your ankle. Is that where it hurts?”

“It is. Smarts right bad,” Esther said.

“I’m sure. How long have you been out here?”

“Seems like hours but probably only twenty minutes or so.”

“We need to get you inside and get some ice on the ankle to slow down the swelling.”

“I’m for that.” Esther studied the woman, still puzzled by her just showing up out of nowhere. “I’m mighty glad to see you, but who are you and where did you come from? I didn’t hear a car drive up.”

“I was on the dirt road that borders your ranch and I heard your calls for help.”

“That old logging road. Nobody uses that anymore except teenagers riding those racket-making ATVs or else looking for a place to make out. What were you doing there?”

“I was just passing through the area and got too sleepy to keep going. I got out of the car before the road got too bad and took a walk to get the kinks out of my neck and shoulders.”

“And you heard me from the logging road? That’s ’bout nigh a miracle.”

“I barely heard you. At first I thought it was an animal in distress. Luckily, I decided to check it out.”

“Luckier for me, and that’s a fact. I s’pect those prayers I was saying did some good.”

“Couldn’t have hurt.”

“What’s your name?” Esther asked.

“Grace...” She bit her bottom lip as if she’d just uttered a curse word she wished she could take back. She hesitated. “Grace Addison.”

“That fits,” Esther said. “I needed me some grace today and you showed up.”

“Timing is everything,” Grace agreed.

“I’m Esther. Esther Kavanaugh. Been living here on the Double K Ranch for years and don’t remember ever just tripping, falling and not being able to get up.”

“It can happen to anyone. Let’s get you inside, and then we can chat.”

“I don’t know how a little thing like you is gonna help me inside. I’m twice your size.”

“That’s a major exaggeration, but an additional person for support might make it less painful for you. Were you calling for your husband? If he’s around, perhaps I can find him.”

Esther shook her head. “Charlie’s dead. If he was alive, I wouldn’t have been out here in the first place. He took care of me and I took care of him. That’s how it always was.”

“I’m sorry.”

Esther struggled to steady the grief that had snuck into her voice. “Not your fault. It’s somebody’s, just not yours.”

“Who were you calling for?” Grace asked.

“My hired help, but if he were still at the ranch, he’d have heard me yelling before now.”

“Then looks like you’ll have to trust me to get you inside. Believe me, I’m stronger than I look. But if it hurts too much even with my help, I’ll call 9-1-1.”

“Don’t want no part of that. All those medical people know to do with people my age is take us to the hospital. Then they want to charge us for nothing.”

“Then lean against me and try to keep your weight off the right foot while I help you up.” Grace took Esther’s arm and helped her to a standing position. “Nice and easy. Let me know if the pain seems unbearable.”

Esther did as she was told. Thankfully, her Good Samaritan had told the truth. She was a lot stronger than she looked. Esther hobbled along with Grace’s help.

“We need to take the steps slowly,” Grace said as they reached the back door to the house. “Hold on to the railing with your free hand to help you stay balanced.”

Following Grace’s advice, Esther took the three back steps with a lot less pain than she’d feared. Nothing seemed quite as scary since Grace had appeared. Of course, once they were inside, Grace would be on her way and Esther would be alone again.

Always alone without Charlie. Someday someone would pay for that. Esther wouldn’t rest until justice was done.

But right now she was just grateful for Grace.

Chapter Four

By all rights, Grace should be a nervous wreck at this point. She’d made a major faux pas in the backyard. She hadn’t given anyone her real last name in the six years she’d been on the run. Thankfully, she’d caught herself in time to use the last name that was on her latest fake ID.

It was the unexpected nature of the encounter with Esther. Normally, she planned her life carefully, taking no chances with strangers.

In spite of that, Grace felt at ease. Esther was so sweet and unassuming, her house so cozy, it was impossible not to feel at home with her.

Esther was resting at least semicomfortably now, reclined on the sofa in the loose-fitting cotton robe Grace had helped her change into. Her leg was propped on multiple pillows, her ankle iced and a clean compression wrap from Esther’s first aid kit in place.

“Are you a nurse?” Esther asked.

“No, but I’ve had experience with sprained ankles, usually my own. But if this is not a lot better by morning, you should see a doctor and have it x-rayed.”

“It can’t help but be better the way you’re pampering me.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would do.” Grace tucked an available afghan around Esther’s legs. “Do you have some pain relievers in the house?”

“I have some ibuprofen I use when the arthritis starts acting up.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to take that. Where would I find it?”

“In the kitchen cabinet next to the sink and above the counter.”

“I’ll get it,” Grace offered. “Would you like anything else, perhaps a cup of tea?”

“Nothing yet, but you help yourself to anything you see in there that you want. There’s homemade chocolate chip cookies in the cookie jar and sweet tea in the refrigerator.”

“Thanks, but I had a late lunch.” Chips and a soft drink, if you could call that lunch.

Alone in the kitchen, Grace took a few seconds to absorb her surroundings. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, had a cozy, lived-in feel. A red teakettle sat on the back burner of a freestanding gas range. An electric coffeepot was on the counter next to a chicken-shaped sugar bowl and a basket of unshelled pecans.