Boone's Bounty

Except her. A woman on the run didn’t stop to make friends along the way. Too risky. Boone Connor had helped her out, and she was grateful. Under different circumstances, she would have liked to get to know him, but once she left this café tonight, she never expected to see him again.

She’d driven out of San Antonio without much of a plan except an instinctive urge to head for Yellowstone Park. But she couldn’t stay in Yellowstone. She’d continue north to Canada.

Once out of the country, she’d find a good lawyer and assess her chances of legally keeping Josh. But she’d keep him, legally or illegally, because she knew one thing for sure. No matter what a judge might say, as long as she was alive Mason Fowler was never, ever getting custody of his son.

3

BOONE HATED TO ADMIT how much he missed Josh and Shelby once they’d left the café with their bags of food. But no way would Shelby stay to eat. Something was going on with her, and Boone was afraid he’d never find out what it was.

When he learned that she’d left money to pay for his food, he had half a mind to go over to her room and give it back. Then he recognized that he was only looking for an excuse to see her again, which was a fool’s errand, for sure. He was the sort of guy who needed time to build a relationship, and after tonight, he and Shelby would probably never cross paths again. That was probably just as well.

Still, he couldn’t let Shelby buy his dinner. It didn’t seem right. So he asked Mrs. Sloan to put the money aside for Lucy, who could probably use some extra cash for that baby she’d be having soon.

By eleven the café had emptied out and Boone had his pick of booths, not that one looked any more comfortable than the other. He was on a first-name basis with Norma Sloan and her husband Eugene. The couple reminded him of Jack Sprat who could eat no fat and his wife who could eat no lean. They’d been more than kind, providing a pillow and a blanket to help him through the night.

About eleven-thirty, Norma sent Eugene into the café’s back room to grab a catnap while she kept the coffeepot going. Who they were brewing coffee for was a mystery to Boone, because no other customers showed up. Boone crammed himself into his chosen booth and pulled his hat over his eyes.

When Eugene came out to relieve Norma at one in the morning, Boone unfolded himself from the booth. He didn’t think he’d slept much, and he felt as if he’d been rode hard and put away wet. Stretching the stiffness from his spine, he walked over to the counter.

“Want some java, Boone?” Eugene asked around a yawn.

“No, thanks. But why don’t you go on back to bed and let me take care of anybody who comes in? I doubt anybody will, anyway.”

“That’s a nice offer, but my conscience wouldn’t let me.” Eugene yawned again and poured himself a cup of coffee. “You’re a customer, not my hired help.”

“Speaking of that, who usually mans the counter when you’re open all night? Don’t tell me Lucy works graveyard.”

“Nope.” Eugene unwrapped a sweet roll as he talked. “We have another gal, Edna. She’s older than Lucy and says she likes working nights. Prefers the peace and quiet. But I didn’t want her on the road tonight, so I called and told her to stay home, that we’d handle it. That’s what Norma and I always do when the weather gets like this. We’d rather stay up all night ourselves than worry about an employee skidding all over the road trying to get to work.” He bit into the sweet roll. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.” Boone turned to gaze out the window at the snow still falling. “Then how about closing the place until morning?” He glanced back at Eugene. “Nobody but a crazy person is still on that road tonight.”

Eugene smiled. “No can do. Staying open is a matter of pride with me. My daddy used to own this place, and when I took over he made me promise to keep the coffee going twenty-four hours a day. He said we’d never know how many lives we’d saved by giving people a place to pull off the road, get some coffee and a bite to eat, but he figured we’d saved our share.”

“I’ll bet you have, at that.” Boone rubbed his chin and felt the stubble there. He’d grab a shave in the rest room before he left in the morning. “I’ve stopped here myself a few times, when I was feeling groggy. You might even have saved me.”

“And there could be someone else out there battling his way through the storm, and the light from our sign could be a beacon in the night.”

“Like a lighthouse,” Boone said. He could understand Eugene’s urge to save people. He had that sort of urge all the time. That’s why he was sleeping in a booth tonight.

“Exactly,” Eugene said. “A lighthouse. You sure you don’t want some coffee and one of these rolls?”

Boone sighed. “Yeah, why not. I’m not having much luck sleeping, anyway.” And he could tell Eugene wanted somebody to talk to. So he sat at the counter and swapped fishing stories with the guy for a good hour.

He talked so long and grew so tired that sleep sounded like a real possibility, even in a hard plastic booth. But before he could excuse himself from Eugene, the café door opened, bringing with it a blast of frigid air and blowing snow.

Boone swiveled on the stool to see if one of the motel customers had decided to come over for a midnight snack. For one crazy moment he hoped it might even be Shelby. Instead it was someone he didn’t recognize from the crowd that had filled the café earlier that night.

The man was built like a fireplug, short but solid. His ski jacket bulked him out even more, but Boone could tell from the fit of the guy’s jeans that he probably worked out in some fancy gym to build up his muscles.

“Damn!” The man pulled off a black stocking cap as he stomped his feet on the mat just inside the café door. His hair was cropped close to his head, military-style. “It’s a bitch out there!”

Boone usually reserved judgment on folks until they’d had a chance to prove themselves one way or the other, but for some reason this guy put him on edge. There was something hard and unyielding about him that showed in his voice, in his movements, even in the bristle of his haircut.

“I’ll bet you could use a cup of coffee,” Eugene said eagerly. “And there’s some pie left, if you—”

“Black coffee,” the man said.

Boone was relieved to see the man order something. For a minute he’d imagined the guy taking out a gun and demanding that Eugene empty the cash register. Staying open all night for weary travelers was one thing, but Boone wondered if Eugene and Norma had ever been left alone to face the wrong kind of customer. This fellow was probably harmless, but all in all Boone was glad to be here tonight, just in case.

“Where’re y’all headed?” Boone asked as the guy sat down at the counter. Boone laid on the good-ol’-boy accent on purpose. That, combined with his size, tended to make people think he wasn’t very smart, and then he found out things he might not have otherwise.

The man looked Boone over, his pale gray eyes clearly taking Boone’s measure. “Nowhere, it appears. Damn storm.”

“Yeah, it’s holdin’ folks up, all right,” Boone said.

Eugene set the coffee in front of the man. “Sure I can’t get you something to eat? A sandwich?”

“Nothing.” The man took a swig of his coffee.

Eugene lifted the pot in Boone’s direction and Boone nodded. He didn’t need more coffee, but he wanted an excuse to sit at the counter a little longer and find out what this stranger was up to.

“How long before these pansy-ass cops let us through?” the man asked.

Boone decided to play along. “God knows. My truck could make it right now, no sweat, but you know these Smokies. Treat us all like a bunch of old women.”

Eugene’s eyebrows lifted, and Boone winked at him when the other guy wasn’t looking. Eugene grinned and turned to put the coffeepot back on the burner.

“Ain’t that the truth,” the man muttered. “And then I couldn’t rouse anybody at the motel office. Knocked so hard I about broke the door down. Those people must sleep like the dead.”

Boone wondered why he’d try to beat down the door of a motel office that had a No Vacancy sign in the window. His sense of uneasiness grew.

Eugene turned to the man. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any rooms left.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in charge?” The man looked at Eugene with new interest.

“My wife and I run both the motel and the café. All I can offer you is something to eat and drink, and a booth to stretch out in if you like.”

“Actually, none of the above.” The guy leaned forward. “I want to know if a woman and a little kid checked in after the barricades went up. She’s blond, and he’s about so high.” He held his hand about three feet off the floor.

The pieces clicked into place for Boone. Shelby, arguing with the patrolman. Shelby, desperate for a room. A room to hide in. And Josh’s innocent little voice as he announced, “My daddy gots a gun.”

Boone glanced at Eugene and thought he saw the older man stiffen. He might have guessed what was going on, too. He could have noticed, like Boone had, that Josh didn’t call Shelby Mommy. Kidnapping a kid from his legal guardian was serious stuff, if that’s what Shelby had done. But if this guy was on the up-and-up, he would have asked the patrolman at the barricades to help him find Shelby and Josh.

Holding his breath, Boone waited for Eugene’s answer. Even if Eugene refused to give the guy any information, the way he refused could tip the guy off that Shelby was here.

Eugene adjusted his glasses and paused. “Don’t believe I’ve seen anybody matching that description,” he said, smooth as butter.

Boone wanted to leap across the counter and kiss Eugene on both cheeks.

“I know the woman you’re talking about,” Norma said, coming out of the back room.

Boone’s stomach tightened. If only Norma had stayed asleep.

“She came through about noon,” Norma continued.

Now Boone had two people he wanted to hug. Not only was Norma covering for Shelby, she was misdirecting this guy.

“Yeah?” The man sat up straighter. “What did she look like?”

“Blond, pretty. The little boy was blond, too. They stopped in to get some food, but they took it to go because they wanted to get over the pass before the snow started.”

The guy’s fist hit the counter. “Damn it to hell.” Then he sighed. “At least I guessed right on which road she’d take.”

Norma gazed at him, her expression bland. “She must be important to you.”

“Oh, she’s important, all right,” he replied with a sneer. “She took my kid.”

“Goodness!” Norma sounded concerned, but her gaze had no warmth in it. “Have you notified the authorities?”

“Hell, the authorities couldn’t find their ass with their own two hands. This is one slick chick.”

Boone didn’t think so. Shelby wasn’t enough of a criminal to think of hiding her identity or Josh’s. Fear was driving her, not cunning. She was running as fast as she could go and improvising a plan along the way. But he didn’t think she was a match for this man.

Boone stood and stretched. Then he faked a yawn. “Well, folks, now that I’ve had my bedtime snack, I believe I’ll go to my room and turn in.”

Eugene covered his look of surprise quickly. “Might as well. They won’t be opening that road until daybreak, maybe later.”

The man looked at Boone. “You’ve been letting a bed go to waste? Hell, if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

“Sorry.” Boone clapped his Stetson on his head and pulled on his jacket. “I got here first.” He gestured toward the booth where he’d left the pillow and blanket. “But the Sloans put out a blanket and a pillow in case anybody stumbled in during the night. I’m sure you’re welcome to that.”

The man eyed the setup and turned back to his coffee cup. “We’ll see if I get that desperate,” he said sourly.

Boone waved at Eugene and Norma and headed out the café door. Once outside he turned up his collar and held onto his hat as he ducked his head and trudged forward against the bitter wind. Snow sifted down inside his jacket and his bare hand grew numb. Once he warned Shelby about the man in the café, he wondered what the heck he was going to do with himself and whether he had enough gas to run the truck’s heater all night.

SHELBY LAY in the double bed next to Josh listening to his steady breathing with a touch of envy. All he needed was a darkened room, a soft bed and his blue “blankie” clutched against his cheek.

How she’d love to escape into the world of childhood, if only for a little while, and feel safe again, safe enough to sleep. Her urge to head for Yellowstone had probably come from that same longing. She remembered staying in a little cabin with her mother and father and Patricia, all of the beds in one big room, like settlers on the prairie. They’d never been so cozy before or since.

There was nothing cozy about this room. The heater had a noisy fan, but it didn’t block out the whistling of the wind through a crevice between the door and the frame or the rattling of a loose windowpane. After checking the lock at least twenty times, Shelby had dozed off, only to be awakened when she’d heard someone pounding on a door not far away.

Adrenaline had poured through her, but she hadn’t wanted to wake Josh by leaping out of bed. By the time she’d eased over to the window, drawn back the curtain and peered out, the motel courtyard had been empty.

Now she worried about who had been pounding on a door in the middle of the night. She’d probably been foolish to take this well-traveled highway north toward Yellowstone. Early in Patricia’s marriage to Mason, soon after Josh was born, Shelby had gone over to their house for dinner. She distinctly remembered reminiscing with Patricia about that Yellowstone trip. They’d talked about the fun stops along the way and how much the family vacation had meant to them.

If Mason remembered, he would know exactly what road to take to find her. She was terrible at this cloak-and-dagger stuff, and she really should give up on Yellowstone. Except it wasn’t only Josh’s excitement that was guiding her there. The thought of seeing the place again with Josh had become the only bright spot in her otherwise frightening world. She loved the way Josh insisted on calling the geysers “geezers.” Maybe he’d mixed up the words when she’d mentioned one of the geysers was called Old Faithful.

The windowpane rattled again. Or was that a different sort of noise? She strained to hear over the whirr of the fan and the whistling of the wind. Then the noise came again. A rapid, soft tapping. On her door.

Her stomach lurched in fear and her heartbeat hammered in her ears as she crept quietly out of bed. The tapping grew slightly louder, as if someone wanted to get her attention without alerting anyone else.

Easing back the curtain a tiny slit, she peered out. Then she gasped in surprise as she recognized Boone, his big shoulders hunched against the cold. Had he come to tell her they’d cleared the road?

Her vulnerability made her hesitate before opening the door. Then she shook off any doubts. After all, she’d received nothing but kindness from this man. Now that she’d become one of the hunted, she’d have to learn to trust her instincts if she planned to survive. Her instincts told her Boone wouldn’t harm her or Josh.

Crossing to the door, she unlocked and opened it, belatedly remembering that she wore only a cotton nightgown. The cold took her breath away.

“I have to talk to you,” Boone said. His face was in shadow. “Can I—”

“Come in, for heaven’s sake,” she whispered, stepping back. “It’s freezing out.” Once he was through the door she closed it, but the room temperature seemed to have dropped thirty degrees in that short time.

“Shebby?” Josh mumbled sleepily from the bed.

She hurried over to the bed and leaned down to tuck his blue blanket against his cheek. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It’s only Boone.”

“’Kay.” And just like that, he snuggled back under the covers and dozed off.

Shelby was amazed. Boone and Josh had spent less than twenty minutes together all told, and Boone now had the little boy’s complete trust. She straightened and turned. The room was almost totally dark, but she could make out the cowboy standing right where she’d left him by the door.

A thrill of awareness shot through her. Being alone in the dark with this virile man was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in a long while. He’d probably come over to give her a weather report or the latest information on the road, but for a moment she could fantasize that he’d come because he had a burning need to see her again.

“Do you mind talking in the dark?” she murmured as she walked back toward him. “I don’t want to wake Josh.”

“That’s okay.”

The closer she came to him, the more she felt the cold that had settled on his clothes, and it made her shiver. But she wasn’t afraid. Maybe some of Josh’s instinctive trust in Boone had rubbed off on her, because for the first time since she’d left San Antonio, she felt a little less alone.

She wrapped her arms around her body to ward off the chill and came to stand next to him. She had to move close, so she could keep her voice low. The scent of his aftershave teased her. “What is it?” she asked. “Is the road—”

“No, it’s not the road,” he said quietly. “Look, I don’t mean to mess in your business, but there’s a man in the café who might be looking for you and the boy.”

She gasped and stepped back, her romantic notions shredded by one simple statement. Oh, God, no. Not right here. She’d lulled herself into believing the weather had protected her. Her stomach began to churn. But maybe Boone was wrong. “What…does he look like?”

“Short, stocky but solid, like he works out. He has a military buzz cut.”

Nausea rose in her throat. She turned away and took several long, deep breaths until her stomach settled down a little.

“Do you know him?” Boone asked.

“I know him.”

“Is he a threat to you?”

She gazed up into his shadowed face and decided to risk telling him the truth. “I suppose. I have his son.”

Boone nodded, as if her honesty set well with him. “I figured. Josh told me his daddy has a gun.”

Shelby glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping boy, but he didn’t seem to have stirred. She lowered her voice. “Mason Fowler is a horrible person. He beat my sister and—”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Did he kill her? Josh said—”

“No,” she whispered quickly. “Patricia divorced him two years ago. She…died in a boating accident with…my parents…four months ago.” Shelby shuddered with the effort not to cry. She’d been able to stay strong until now, but this big cowboy was such a comforting presence that she was tempted to give in to her grief.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was husky, tender.

“Me, too.” She swallowed. “Anyway, Patricia didn’t leave a will, so unfortunately Mason has more of a claim to Josh than I do. He’s started the paperwork to get custody. I don’t think the process is going fast enough for him. A couple of days ago, I felt sure he was ready to take Josh for an outing and just…keep him.”

“So he wants the boy.”

“Not really.” She moved closer to Boone. She told herself it was so that he could hear her low-pitched explanation, but she also wished he’d wrap those strong arms around her. It was a dumb idea, and luckily for both of them, he didn’t pick up on her body language.

“Mason wasn’t the least interested in visitation rights after the divorce,” she continued. “For two years he hardly saw Josh. Now he’s pretending to be the perfect daddy. I’m convinced he’s only after money. My parents did leave a will, and whoever gets Josh also gets the generous maintenance allowance my parents set up for him.”

A growl of disapproval rumbled in Boone’s chest, and even though Shelby couldn’t see his face, she could feel the tension in his body. His righteous fury at hearing such news warmed her more than a blazing fire could have done.

It gave her the courage to ask the question she’d been dreading the answer to. “Does he guess I’m here somewhere?”

“I don’t think so. Eugene said he’d never laid eyes on you and Norma said she’d seen you but you went through about lunchtime and were probably way down the road by now.”

“Who are Eugene and Norma?”

“Sorry. The Sloans, the people who own the place.”

Shelby stared up at him. “They lied for me? Why would they do that?”

“Protecting the privacy of a customer might be part of it, but I think it’s also because they didn’t take a shine to this Mason character any more than I did. They might have asked themselves why he’s coming after you himself, instead of notifying the police. I wondered that, too.”

“Because it’s more his style. He’d rather intimidate me personally than trust that the law will be on his side. I have no doubt if he decides I’m in the way of his getting that money, he’ll want to eliminate me completely. In some ways, I probably played right into his hands, running like this.”

“What was your plan?”

She drew strength from the soft murmur of his voice in the darkness, and the woodsy, masculine scent of him eased her panic. “At first I could only think of getting Josh out of town, and I told him we’d go to Yellowstone. Once we were on the road, I realized we couldn’t stay there, so I’d decided to continue north to Canada and get a lawyer up there to help me. But now, if Mason’s right here…”

As the shivers started again, she wrapped her arms tighter around her body. “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted me to do this. Maybe he’s been goading me, hoping I’d take off. And the fact is, he does intimidate me. But I can’t let him get Josh. I just can’t.”

Boone stood there in silence for a long time. Finally he blew out a breath. “I guess you’d better let me help you.”

They were the sweetest words she’d heard in a long while, yet she couldn’t imagine what this cowboy could do. “How?”

“Leave your rental car here and come with me to the Rocking D.”

“Your…your ranch?”

“Not mine. It belongs to a good buddy of mine, Sebastian Daniels, and his new wife Matty. It’s near Canon City, in a pretty little valley. You’ll be safe there while you figure out what you want to do next.”

“Oh, Boone, that’s a wonderful offer.” The idea filled her with such longing she could taste it, but she gathered her strength and pride, wrapping them around her like a cloak. “But I can’t bring my troubles to roost at your friend’s place, especially if he’s a newlywed.”

“You don’t know Sebastian. If he found out I’d left a defenseless woman and a little boy—”

“I’m not defenseless.” She refused to come across as a victim.

“You’re not?”

“I took a self-defense class. I can take care of myself.”

“Well, that’s good,” he said patiently. “That’s real good. But it’s kinda tough taking care of yourself when you have a little shaver to worry about.”

She knew that. She just hadn’t wanted to think about it. “You have a point there,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Anyway, if Sebastian knew I’d left you to fend off some wife-beater by yourself, while taking care of the boy and all, he’d have my hide. Sebastian would want me to bring you to the Rocking D, once he understood the situation.”

She struggled to keep a grip on the pride she’d been clinging to so fiercely. She needed a champion, needed one desperately. Two champions sounded like heaven, but she couldn’t impose like that. “Sounds as if you and your friend are two in a million.”

“Not by a long shot.” He sounded embarrassed. “We’re a couple of ornery cusses, if you must know. Travis, he’s the charming one.”

“Travis?”

“Travis Evans. You’ll meet him, too. In fact, as long as we get out of here at a decent hour in the morning, you’ll get to come to his wedding.”

The conversation had taken on an unreal quality. “Boone, hold on a minute. You’re planning on putting me, with all my problems, smack-dab in the middle of wedding festivities? You can’t do that.”