Rescued by a Ranger

“I like animals!” Belle turned wide eyes on her mother, imploring, “Please? It sounds fun! I never get any fun.”

Eden tousled the girl’s hair, knocking the tiara askew. “You, either, huh?”

“One thing at a time,” Alex said, a thread of desperation in her voice. “Let’s worry about getting some dinner into you. We’ll talk about the festival later.”

“So you’ll accept the offer to raid my pantry?” Zane pressed.

“Doesn’t look like I have much choice.”

It wasn’t the most gracious thank-you he’d ever received, but luckily for Alex, he’d had a lot of recent practice with a grudging female. After a couple of weeks of Eden’s attitude, his neighbor’s surliness bounced right off him. As they approached his lawn, they could hear Dolly barking inside the house. Belle ran on ahead as if she could somehow get through the locked door.

Eden hung back long enough to confide, “I always wanted a kid sister. But an adorable neighbor is good for now.” Then she caught up to Belle, leaving her father startled.

He’d never thought about whether Eden wanted siblings or not. Both he and Valerie had been only children, so it had seemed natural to have just one. Besides, he and Valerie hadn’t shared a bed much in the final years of their marriage, not after he’d caught her sharing other men’s.

Alex walked beside him, her stiff body language screaming her reluctance. “I’m guessing there’s no wife at home to resent our intrusion?”

He shook his head. “Divorced single parent. You?”

She was silent for a long minute, and he watched her gnaw at her bottom lip. Finally, in a tone so soft it was barely audible, she said, “Widowed. Since last spring.”

Her answer hit him with tangible force. He’d been so sure she was divorced or separated. It had never occurred to him Belle’s father might be dead.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“I...apologize if I haven’t seemed very neighborly. It’s been hard.” She gave a quick, brittle laugh. “Understatement.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do,” he offered. “Spaghetti noodles. Car maintenance.”

“That’s kind of you, Mr. Winchester, but Belle and I have to learn to stand on our own feet.”

“An admirable sentiment.” He crossed to his porch and unlocked the front door. Dolly practically knocked him down in her excitement.

Eden grabbed the dog by the collar. “Belle and I will take her out back.”

He motioned for Alex to come inside. “After you.” He couldn’t help noticing how she tried to shrink her body as she passed him, flattening herself against the doorjamb to insure they wouldn’t accidentally touch.

Though she clearly wasn’t comfortable around him yet, maybe they could help each other. She was new in town and might need a tour guide of sorts. Their daughters had certainly hit it off; he’d never seen Eden warm to someone so instantaneously. Alex Hunt might not think she was in the right state of mind to make new friends, but Zane resolved to prove her wrong. That smile Eden had flashed him when she made the raccoon remark still warmed him from the inside, like hot chocolate.

I’m not a bad guy, he silently promised Alex. And I think you’ll grow to like me. He hoped so, anyway.

Because if he had anything to do with it, their families would definitely be spending time together.

Chapter Four

Alex waited while Tess Fitzpatrick, a local dance teacher, counted out bills from the petty cash drawer. Tess was a cheerful redhead with a round face and pert features that made her look younger than she was. The first time Alex had come into the studio, she’d hesitated, not sure if Tess worked here or was a teenage student.

“We are so lucky you answered our ad,” Tess said as she handed Alex an envelope. “With all of our age groups and classes performing at the festival, we really need the extra help with costumes and sets.”

Last week, Alex had seen the notice for a seamstress who could alter ballet costumes that didn’t quite fit and do minor repairs on older pieces from the studio’s wardrobe closet. Alex had learned to sew early in life, often refurbishing or embellishing ill-fitting hand-me-downs so she wouldn’t feel like such a loser wearing them.

She returned Tess’s smile. “I’m happy to lend a hand—especially since you’re paying me.”

“Only a nominal amount,” Tess fretted. “As skilled as you are, you should be better compensated.”

“I’m not complaining. I’m just glad you didn’t mind paying me in cash.” She’d rather not tempt fate by trying to cash checks made out to “Alexandra Hunt.”

Alex had stammered through a clumsy explanation about her bank not having local branches and how it wasn’t worth starting a new account since her stay here would only be temporary. Tess was too good-natured to question the awkward rambling, but Alex knew she was a terrible liar. Hell, she felt guilty and self-conscious just standing in the same room with another redhead. Tess’s ginger curls made Alex nervous that her dye job was blatantly obvious in comparison. Even though Bryce had assured her she looked great, her new, sleek, dark hair occasionally made her feel like an actress in a bad spy film.

If only this were a movie and not her real life! Tension knotted her stomach, but she tried to keep her voice light as she addressed her daughter.

“Come on, punkin.” The little girl stood watching through an interior window into the ballet studio. “Time to go grocery shopping.”

Belle kept her gaze on the dozen six-year-olds who jumped and spun in a whirl of black leotards and gauzy pink skirts. “They’re pretty,” she said wistfully.

Alex was so on edge that she almost jumped when Tess reached out and cupped her wrist.

“Sorry.” Tess’s brown eyes were contrite. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was trying to be discreet.” She glanced in Belle’s direction and dropped her voice to such a hushed whisper that Alex was nearly reduced to lipreading.

“I don’t want to speak out of turn,” Tess began. “Although, I am sort of known for that around town. Anyway, I realize you won’t be here long and it may not be in your budget, but if she wanted to attend a class, we could work something out. Maybe trade a few more sequin maintenance jobs for—”

“Class? Can I, Mommy? Can I take a class?” Belle’s attention was fully on her mother now, the spinning dancers behind the glass forgotten.

Tess winced. “I didn’t mean for her to overhear that.”

“Don’t blame yourself.” Alex shot her daughter a reproachful look. “She has bionic hearing or something. I’ve never understood how she does it.”

“Please?” Belle asked.

“That’s for me and Miss Fitzpatrick to discuss later. Right now, it’s time to buy groceries.” Alex herded her daughter toward the door, trying not to think about how many puppies and dance lessons Eileen and Phillip Hargrove could afford. Yeah, they’re loaded, but giving Chris every single thing he ever asked for didn’t do him much good, did it? She couldn’t let the Hargroves get their cold hands on her daughter. Even if her suspicions about their criminal tendencies were exaggerated—which she doubted—she knew they were dangerous in other ways.

Belle walked silently to the car, doing nothing to help while Alex buckled her into the booster seat. “Miss our old car,” the girl finally grumbled.

Me, too. Alex had insisted Bryce find her something with at least minimal safety features, but she hoped she never had to put any of them to the test. In the event of a collision, the air bags in this piece of junk seemed more likely to whimper in defeat than deploy. She bit her lip, recalling Zane Winchester’s unexpected offer last night, when he’d told her he was willing to help with anything from pasta to car maintenance. As a mother, she couldn’t help wondering if it would be worth the risk to let him look over the vehicle and make sure it was roadworthy, for Belle’s sake. But as a woman on the run, inviting the law over to look under her hood was a really bad idea.

In the backseat, Belle remained uncharacteristically silent. She didn’t recover her normal verve until the produce section of the grocery store. She stood next to the cart, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Alex compared fruit prices.

“Mommy, apples are healthy, aren’t they?”

Alex picked up a bag of seedless grapes. “Mmm-hmm.”

“And exercise is healthy. There was a song about it on my show this morning.” With projection a vocal coach would applaud, she belted out, “‘Gotta move, move, MOVE to find your healthy groove! You gotta—’”

“Shh!” Alex pressed her fingertips to Belle’s mouth.

Her daughter squirmed away. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry, but you’re not supposed to be so loud in the store. They probably have rules about that. We don’t want to get in trouble.” Not that Belle had any concept of how much trouble they could attract. Was there anyone in the world less suited to lying low and not drawing attention? “No more singing until we get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Belle nodded in prompt agreement, a cherubic picture of obedience. “Is dancing exercise?”

Alex sighed, realizing where this exchange had been leading all along. “I said I’d consider the lessons with Miss Tess. I need time to think about it.”

Alex’s top priority was to keep her daughter hidden and safe. Ballet classes were unnerving. The less Belle interacted with others, the better. But on the other hand, how was the nearly-five-year-old supposed to develop socially and emotionally if her mother kept her isolated in a strange house? Every bit as vivacious as her father had been, Belle needed to be around people.

“Guess what?” Alex changed the subject. “I decided we’re going to the festival this weekend.” It was a stopgap measure, one that would make Belle happy without being as risky as regular dance lessons where she might make friends and unwittingly confide in her classmates.

“We are?” Belle stretched her arms out and spun in a circle. “They have balloon animals at the festival! Eden said so. And pony rides.”

As Alex steered the cart down the bread aisle, Belle kept up a monologue of everything she planned to do and eat at Frederick-Fest. For the first time since they’d showed up in town, Alex felt as if she’d done something right. Maybe the festival would be good for both of them. Lord knew she could use the diversion.

They finished their shopping and progressed to the checkout line, where the cashier took note of the five boxes of spaghetti noodles and smiled. “Having a dinner party?”

Alex’s face heated and she didn’t bother answering as she paid. She hadn’t realized she’d grabbed that many boxes. Had she subconsciously thought that if she armed herself with enough pasta she could avoid running into Zane Winchester again? Unlikely. The man lived next door. It would have been nice if she could park in the Comers’ garage, all the better to dodge her neighbors when she was coming and going from the house, but the garage was full.

Full of the Comers’ belongings. Because it’s their home. This house-sitting situation was fortuitous but temporary. Now that she and Belle had settled into a “safe” place long enough to regroup, Alex had to come up with a long term plan to protect her daughter.

In a perfect world, Alex could stay one step ahead and the Hargroves would never find them. But she couldn’t count on that. She desperately wished she had ammunition against them, insurance she could use to make them relent. For the sake of her marriage—and because she’d thought it prudent to stay beneath the Hargroves’ radar as much as possible—she’d tried for years to ignore her instincts about her parents-in-law. If she’d dug deeper, would she now have enough information to be a real threat to them?

Not necessarily. Even if she’d been brave enough to ask questions sooner, who would have given her straight answers? Besides, if evidence of Phillip Hargrove’s corruption was so easy to come by, someone would have used it by now. No matter how many smiling people clapped him on the back at the country club, the man had a few enemies. But Phillip did enough social and financial damage to his opponents to discourage people from acting against him. He wasn’t used to being thwarted.

A perverse grin tugged at her lips. The man who didn’t tolerate ever being told no must have been downright apoplectic when he learned his “mousy nobody” of a daughter-in-law had defied him. She wished she could have seen the look on his face when he’d realized she wasn’t walking into that courtroom. Her self-congratulatory moment faded as quickly as it came, though. She’d caught them off guard the first time simply because it had never occurred to them that she would have the gumption to leave, just as Chris had underestimated her ability to walk away from him. Now Eileen and Phillip had a better understanding of the lengths she would go to in order to keep Josie out of their clutches.

Without the element of surprise on her side, what other weapons did she have in her arsenal?

* * *

FOLLOWING DINNER THURSDAY night, Zane delegated the job of walking the dog to Eden. “Don’t go far. They’re predicting a storm tonight. And don’t forget to take some baggies with you to clean up after her.”

She made a face. “Gross. Come on, Dolly, let’s get this over with.”

“So you can beat the rain and hurry back to focus on that makeup homework, right?”

He’d found several opportunities during dinner to stress the importance of her grades—and remind her he’d be checking her work from now on to make sure it was complete. At this latest mention, Eden shot him a look that could pierce Kevlar. But she didn’t make a surly retort, which was progress. Maybe I’m getting through to her.

He’d had a brainstorm at lunch on how to further encourage his daughter to become an upstanding member of society. At the restaurant, Ben had commented that it might benefit Eden to have a woman she could relate to as a role model. Would it also help Eden to be someone else’s role model? She’d doted on Belle Hunt. She’d been so patient and good-natured with the little girl; perhaps giving them more time together would motivate Eden to be a sterling example.

He just needed Alex Hunt’s cooperation.

Today he’d found himself thinking about the lovely widow far more than he should; the sadness in her eyes haunted him. He wanted to help her smile again. Granted, she’d been a bit skittish in his presence so far, but if she got to know him better... His divorce had been difficult even with friends and his parents nearby to help him through it. He could barely fathom how Alex felt, alone with no local support network. Zane could take her to dinner, officially welcome her to town and let her know he was here for her.

For a second, doubt gripped him—was this another ill-advised attempt at rescuing a damsel in distress? No. It was simply an invitation to dinner. According to Ben, men issued such invitations to women all the time.

Zane scrawled a quick note saying he’d be back soon and changed into a faded San Antonio Spurs T-shirt with his jeans. Both times he’d interacted with Alex, she’d seemed intimidated. To put her at ease, he wanted to appear as casual and approachable as possible.

About a month ago, when he’d been eating alone at The Twisted Jalapeño, Grace Torres had stopped at his table to tease him about looking stern and hyperalert. “At least three patrons have asked if you’re here tonight to take down a criminal,” she’d said. “I would take it as a personal favor if you could at least pretend to relax and enjoy my food.”

Smile, he reminded himself as he cut across his lawn into the Comers’ front yard. Be friendly. He wanted to coax Alex into seeing things his way, not scare her. That outdated monstrosity of a car was in the driveway, so he assumed the Hunts were home.

He knocked at the front door, calling “Hello?” for good measure. “It’s Zane.” He could understand a single woman not wanting to open the door to unexpected visitors after dark.

There were footsteps on the other side, followed by the metallic rattle and click of the chain being unfastened and the dead bolt being unlocked.

Alex greeted him in a resigned tone. “Mr. Winchester. What brings you here?”

Her eyebrows were raised in a quizzical expression. They were a ruddy gold, much closer to the color of Belle’s red curls than to Alex’s dark hair. Many women liked to experiment with different shades, but he couldn’t help wondering how Alex looked with her natural color. Beautiful, he imagined.

She would be beautiful anyway if her features weren’t so often pinched with apprehension.

Realizing he’d yet to speak, he gave her a broad smile. Friendly, approachable. “I, uh, have something to discuss with you. Can I come in for a second?”

“Hi, Mister Zane!” Belle joined her mother at the door. “Want a hot dog? We’re eating dinner.”

“I deduced that,” he said, trying not to laugh at the little girl’s colorful cheeks and chin.

She wrinkled her nose. “What’s ‘deduce’?”

Alex glanced down at her daughter, the tenderness in her gaze transforming her appearance. “It means using clues to figure something out. The mustard and ketchup all over your face are pretty big clues.” She stepped back, allowing Zane inside. “If you’re done eating, Belle, go upstairs and wash your face. You can play in your room while Mr. Winchester and I talk.”

When Belle frowned, obviously not pleased at being banished, Zane added, “Listen to your mama now.” The little girl hesitated, then nodded and scampered up the stairs. At Alex’s surprised expression, he said, “Hope I wasn’t out of line, telling her what to do. Force of habit.”

“From parenting Eden?”

“From the job, actually. In law enforcement, we provide backup for each other.”

Alex would do anything for her daughter, but she had to admit, single parenting could get difficult. On Belle’s occasional Holy Terror days, it would be nice to know someone else had her back. Bath times and bedtimes might be easier if she could depend on a partner. Cover me, I’m going in.

Zane gave her an expectant smile. “So where can we talk?”

Maybe the reason for his dropping by was as simple as letting her know about a neighborhood garage sale. But her self-preservation instincts wanted to manufacture an excuse to shove him back out the door. This was the first time she’d ever seen him without his omnipresent white hat. His dark hair was appealingly rumpled, and he wore a black T-shirt with jeans. Inexplicably, she found him more dangerous like this than if he’d shown up with a gun and badge. At least the badge was a reminder that she couldn’t let her guard down.

“Let’s go in the kitchen,” she said. “But if you don’t want Belle to overhear, it might be easier to pass notes back and forth on a sheet of paper. As I told Tess Fitzpatrick today, my daughter has some sort of sonic superhearing.”

“Oh, you know Tess? That’s great!” He beamed at her. What was with him tonight? Spokespeople for teeth whitener didn’t smile this much. “Making lots of new friends in town?”

Not especially. It was difficult to bond when you were lying about who you were and considered the day a success if you’d managed not to speak to anyone. She went into the kitchen, busying herself with rinsing dirty dishes and loading them into the washer.

He leaned against the island behind her, far too close for her peace of mind. “Anything I can do to help?”

Leave. “No, I’ve got it.” She cringed at the abrupt edge in her voice. “Thanks anyway, Mr. Winchester.”

“Zane,” he corrected. “I’d like to be on that list of new friends. After all, we’re neighbors. Plus, we’re in the same boat.”

The Texas Ranger and the failure-to-appear outlaw mom? They weren’t even in the same ocean.

“With both of us raising girls on our own,” Zane said, “you and I have a lot in common. We know how stressful single parenting can be. When was the last time you had a night out, just some adult conversation and a few hours to relax?”

Warning sirens clanged in her head. All his smiling tonight...had he been flirting with her? “Are you asking me on a date?” She lost her grip on a slick wet glass. It hit the tile floor and shattered.

Zane swore under his breath. “You’re barefoot. Where can I find a broom?”

“Laundry room around the corner,” she said, feeling clumsy and foolish. If she didn’t want to draw attention to her and Belle, she had to stop overreacting to everything. But the thought of Zane asking her out caused her head to spin.

While she waited, she bent to pick up the largest pieces. She wondered if she could find the Comers a replacement glass that matched the one she’d broken. “Ow!” A drop of blood bloomed on the tip of her finger.

Zane hurried back with a broom and dustpan. “Did you step on a piece?”

She pointed to the large jagged hunk of glass that sat on the counter. “I was getting the biggest pieces out of the way to make sweeping up the shards easier.”

He set the broom against the island and reached for her. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“What? No, I—”

But he was already lifting her as if she weighed no more than Belle. Alex’s heart thudded in erratic tempo. When was the last time a man had held her? Up close, she realized just how green Zane’s eyes were. Not blue-green or a diluted hazel, but clear and—

“There you go.” He righted her next to the kitchen table and took her hand in his, examining it beneath the Comers’ funky chandelier. “I don’t see a sliver. First aid supplies?”

She waved her free hand toward the kitchen drawer where she kept Belle’s adhesive bandages.

He chuckled when he found them. “You want one printed with polka-dotted puppies or kittens wearing crowns?”

Alex sank into a chair, wishing she could rewind to when she’d first opened the door and do everything differently. For starters, I wouldn’t open the door. “Surprise me.”

He returned a moment later with an adhesive strip and antibiotic ointment.

“Thanks.” She didn’t meet his eyes as he took her hand. His grip was warm and strong and he was slow to let go of her after he’d bandaged the cut.

“Alex?” His voice was a husky rumble, and she couldn’t help wondering how he would sound saying her real name.

She stiffened at the mental slip. For all intents and purposes, Alex is your real name. Keep it together.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable earlier,” he apologized. “I just thought maybe you’d like to have dinner sometime. You’re new in town and don’t know anyone. And...I’d really like to get to know you.”

Their gazes locked. For a moment she desperately wanted to say yes. In addition to being undeniably attractive, Zane seemed like a great guy, straightforward and dependable. Trustworthy. Unlike me. She belatedly remembered that it was imperative he didn’t get to know her, not the real her.

“I can’t,” she blurted. “Thank you, but no.”

“I see.” Disappointment clouded his gaze as he turned away. He began sweeping broken glass into the dustpan. “I’m tempted to try to talk you into it anyway, just an evening out as friends, but I was raised to be more chivalrous than that. A gallant man should accept a woman’s refusal gracefully.”

She steered the subject away from her personal life. “So who instilled this code of chivalry, your mom or dad?”

“Both.” His mouth curved in an affectionate smile that seemed more natural than his earlier toothy grins. “He was a fireman and she was a nurse. They’re retired now, living in an apartment at Gunther Gardens, but age doesn’t stop them from volunteering around the community. They share a strong drive to help others.”

“They sound like good people.” It made sense that two civic-minded, everyday heroes had raised a strapping lawman with a penchant for wanting to help.

“What about your parents?” Zane asked. “Are they retired or still working?”

“Don’t actually know,” she said, her voice tight. “I was a ward of the state.”

Was it folly to share that personal fact with him? Did it make her more identifiable, should anyone ever ask about her? Zane didn’t need to know she’d been abandoned as a sickly toddler. She’d needed so much extra care that no one had adopted her. Eventually, she’d become as healthy as any other child, but she’d never found a permanent home.