Kimberly stared at Mitch. His set jaw and narrowed gaze challenged her. Her back was against the wall, because that look said he wasn’t going anywhere until she confessed. The only progress she’d made so far was the fact that he was listening to her.
“Someone is trying to get rid of me. This is somehow related to my foster father, but I don’t know how or why. He warned me, sort of cryptically right before he supposedly drowned but was really killed, and then the deputy who interviewed me strongly insinuated that I benefited the most from his death. That night someone came after me directly,” Kimberly admitted, and it was like a huge weight lifted off her by being able to say those words out loud.
He looked at her like she was crazy. She couldn’t exactly blame him.
“I never knew you were in the system.” He paused a minute as though to let his brain click puzzle pieces into place. “You said your parents died when you were a teenager, and you had to spend high school living with a sick aunt who’d since passed away.”
She shot him a look. “I’m sorry that I lied before. He is the only father I’ve known. It wouldn’t have helped if I’d told you the truth.”
“How can you say that?” he shot back. “It seems to me that it matters a whole helluva lot that I had no idea who my wife really was and now my life is in danger.”
How stupid had she been to think she could pull off a marriage and family when the creeps were never far behind? Granted she hadn’t known she was marrying one of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelors in Texas at the time. His downplayed clothing, calloused hands and rugged good looks made him seem like a salt-of-the-earth type, a cowboy and not a wealthy ranch owner.
“You weren’t exactly honest with me, either,” she fired back. She’d been seduced by the idea that she could live on a ranch in a bunkhouse and be perfectly happy for the rest of her life.
“I thought you knew who I was,” he defended.
It was her turn to balk because she was pretty damn sure he’d enjoyed meeting someone who didn’t have designs on him for his family ties. “And Christmas comes in June.”
Mitch stood there for what felt like half an hour but was probably less than a couple of minutes. An inappropriate shiver raced down her arms as his gaze intensified on her. The hint of appreciation in his honest gray eyes made her want things she knew better than to consider.
“You better plan on filling me in as soon as we’re settled.” His tone was cold enough to make her shiver. She rubbed her arms to hide her physical reaction to him—one minute hot and then the next so cold. There was more to it than she was ready to admit to herself, because thoughts of his hands doing other things to her crept into her mind. Those were useless. He was agreeing to go with her, and that’s all she needed for now.
“Fine. But we need to go. They can’t be far behind me and we’ve wasted enough time talking already. If we don’t get out of here soon, it could be too late.” It was her turn to fold her arms and dare him not to believe her.
He nodded.
“I’ll pack up the twins.” She moved to the diaper bags she’d seen sitting on top of the dresser.
“You can’t. You don’t know what they need.” His words stabbed her in the way that hard truths often hurt. Hard truths like the fact that a dark cloud had always followed her. Hard truths like the fact that everyone she’d ever cared about hated her or was dead. Hard truths like the fact that she would never live a normal life.
“How do you know these people are after you?” He was stalling. He wasn’t naive or slow. He had to know the men from this morning were hunting her.
A flash of light was followed by a crack of thunder that rattled the windows.
“I’ll explain later. We gotta go now. Please, Mitch.” She could set her pride aside and beg for the sake of her children.
On an exhale, Mitch moved to the set of cribs.
If seeing him again was already a knife to the center of her chest, watching the normally rough-around-the-edges cowboy soften his stance as he picked up one of the twins nearly did her in. But then again Mitch had always been that perfect blend of raw masculinity and gentleness. His hands were rough as they roamed her body but she liked it that way. His hands might be rough but his touch was anything but. Thinking about all of the sensations those hands had brought about so easily sent a sensual shiver racing up her spine, tingling her nerve endings.
But her heart fell when she got a good look at her daughter’s face from over his shoulder. Tears sprang to her eyes at seeing her. Rea. Such a beautiful baby with a round, angelic face topped off by thick curly black hair. Kimberly knew this was going to hurt. Seeing her daughter stung so much more than she thought. She was reminded of everything she’d missed. Her entire body ached.
What had she expected?
The changes in her daughter from a one-month-old infant to a one-year-old baby were staggering, and her breath caught.
“She’s so big,” Kimberly said so quietly that she didn’t think Mitch had heard until she caught a slight nod.
“The trick is to wake her and get her changed before her brother opens his eyes.” He walked over to a changing table, cradling the half-asleep baby against his bare chest. If there was something sexier than that image, Kimberly had never seen it. A dozen butterflies fluttered in her stomach. For a split second it occurred to her that the man holding that baby was her husband, or at least he had been.
As it was, Mitch wanted nothing to do with her. He was entertaining her by going along with her pleas. It was easy to see that he would never trust her again. Mitch was an honest and decent man. He didn’t deserve what she’d done to him. Blaming their whirlwind affair on letting her emotions get carried away wasn’t fair.
Kimberly had messed up big-time. She would pay the price for the rest of her life for that slip. Since she deserved every bit of misery that came her way, she wouldn’t fight Mitch or try to convince him that she was there because she cared. And she sure as hell wouldn’t let her eyes linger on the lines of his muscled back or his arm muscles while they bulged and released as he lifted their daughter and gently placed her on the changing table. Seeing him so capable with their child stirred her heart in painful ways.
Digging deep to muster whatever courage and self-discipline she had left, Kimberly forced her gaze away. Being around Mitch was exhausting. Emotions were more exhausting than anything she’d ever done physically. She’d been a runner in high school. She had no idea the same term would define her life now. Running had been an outlet for her pain. Workouts had started at five o’clock in the morning and she’d trained on her own after school sometimes, running to her job across town. At night she barely had enough energy to get through a shower before dropping into bed.
She thought about the charms she’d given her babies and moved to the top drawer of Aaron’s dresser.
“What are you looking for?” Mitch asked as she dug her hand around in the last place she remembered placing Aaron’s pair of silver running shoes.
It must’ve dawned on Mitch, because a beat later he said, “The box is on top of the dresser.”
She looked up, not ready to admit how frantic she’d been fearing that he’d tossed it, along with any other memory of her. “If it had been a snake, it would’ve bitten me.”
How many times had Mitch delivered that line to her when she’d been looking for something she’d misplaced?
“Sometimes it’s hardest to see what’s right under your nose,” he stated. “Rea’s is in the same place on her dresser.”
She located both and placed one in each diaper bag.
“I’m sure I can figure out what else needs to be packed. All babies need diapers and wipes,” she said in a low voice.
Before Mitch could warn her to be quiet again, the other twin stirred. Based on the sound of the wail Aaron unleashed, he had a healthy set of lungs.
Kimberly didn’t debate her actions. Mothering instincts kicked in, causing her to rush to his side and scoop him into her arms. His eyes were closed as he belted out another cry. The sound nearly brought her to her knees. She hoped that maybe he would realize his mother was holding him. Her body softened, a physical reaction to holding her son that she remembered from when he was first born. He was heavy now.
For a split second her world—which had been tipped on its axis for eleven long months without her family—righted itself. There was something magical about being in the same room with Mitch and the twins, like she was a whole person again after having her soul splintered into a thousand flecks of dust.
She nearly crumbled, as her legs felt almost rubberlike, at the thought of leaving them again. A tear escaped as she stood there, doing what she thought would never be possible again, holding her child.
Before she could get too comfortable, Mitch was there, taking their son from her.
Kimberly was so lost in the moment, she hadn’t realized that Mitch had placed their daughter in a carrier that hummed with vibration.
Her arms felt so cold the minute the warm baby was plucked from them.
“I can take it from here,” Mitch said, clearly uncomfortable with her holding their child. But he couldn’t hold both of the twins every time. At some point he was going to have to let her help.
He had a territorial look that she knew better than to argue with at the moment.
Getting to hold her child, even for a few seconds, was so much more than she’d expected to experience after her disappearance. A selfish part of her was glad she had come back. But the feeling was quickly obliterated by the fact that doing so had just put her family in danger. The reason she’d taken off in the first place was moot. All that suffering for naught if she brought the threat to their doorstep. She could only pray that she was overreacting. That the creeps chasing her hadn’t put two and two together.
What are the odds? an annoying little voice in the back of her mind asked.
Pretty damn slim.
A bolt of lightning lit the room, and the sharp crack of thunder that followed said the storm was directly overhead.
Kimberly bolted into action, moving to the set of diaper bags on the dresser next to the door and grabbing a few. She rummaged through drawers, looking for clothing, and then crammed a few items in each bag.
“You know security will stop anyone from driving onto the property,” Mitch stated, eyeing her as his hands worked on the diaper.
“These people won’t exactly drive up to the window and ask permission.”
And when another bolt of lightning crossed the sky with the accompanying crack of thunder, she added, “We have to go now.”
MITCH WAS STILL second-guessing his decision to load up the twins in the middle of the night and take off to nowhere with his supposed-to-be-dead wife.
Kimberly was alive. The thought hadn’t really sunk in, and shock was most likely to blame.
Even so, here they were on the road with the twins.
“I need coffee,” he said, pulling his SUV into the gas station on Route 25. So far they’d left the ranch without incident, despite Kimberly’s dire warnings. If he didn’t know her better, he’d think she was crazy. He also remembered seeing the men in the plaza who’d set his radar on edge and knew she was being honest when she said he and the twins were in danger.
Sitting in the front of the SUV, her stress level was high. Tension radiated from her. When they were married, he knew exactly what to do when she was anxious or upset. Now it hardly seemed appropriate to think about how to ease her tension. Her paranoia during their marriage made a whole lot more sense now. He didn’t classify it as such while they were hitched. Things had changed.
She didn’t argue but her gaze darted around the parking lot.
“You stay in the vehicle with the twins.” He hesitated for a split second, but reality said she wouldn’t do anything to hurt herself or the babies. If there was one thing he knew for certain about his wife—correction, about Kimberly—it was that she loved those angels sleeping in the back seat.
Car rides had been his saving grace in the early months following losing his wife.
He pushed open the driver’s-side door and tried to shake the thought. Kimberly was alive. How many times had he prayed this scenario was actually true? Too many to count.
Now that it was true, there was so much confusion rattling around in his brain. Another reason he needed the caffeine boost. A small part of him wanted to believe he was still asleep, dreaming that his wife had returned. He’d had plenty of those nights in which he’d wake with a start, half expecting her to be right beside him. The smell of her shampoo—lilies—filling his lungs as he took a deep breath.
Kimberly, his wife, would forever be dead to him.
He opened the glass door leading into the gas station that doubled as a convenience store. This place had everything—and he meant everything—a traveler could possibly need or want, with enough cashiers to ensure no one wasted valuable road time waiting in line. The walls were covered, from the ceiling to the floor, with everything from bags of assorted nuts to sunflower seeds.
Mitch scanned the room and locked on to the coffee machine.
There were enough vehicles coming and going outside that his SUV would blend right in with the traffic and Kimberly would be safe. Changing his primary vehicle had been his wife’s idea. He’d driven the same truck for most of his life, until the twins were born. Since their arrival, he needed more cab room, so driving a bigger vehicle made sense. He couldn’t part with his F-150, though. It sat in his garage, reminding him of a time before life was filled with diaper bags and strollers. He wouldn’t change any of it, though. Except the part about being betrayed by the person he thought had loved him.
Mitch needed caffeine. He made a beeline to the coffee machine. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got really wrapped up in emotions. Being a cattle rancher was simple. Take care of the animals, and they’ll return the favor.
So being anywhere near the woman sitting in his SUV brought another bout of anger flooding through him because her presence confused the hell out of him. He didn’t want to feel anything for her, and yet she stirred a feeling in his chest that he’d buried deep down when he’d buried her.
He was so distracted by his thought that he overfilled his cup with black coffee, causing it to spill over onto his hand. Nothing woke a person up like burning-hot coffee on exposed skin.
Mitch shook it off, poured a little out and placed a plastic lid on his cup. He poured a second cup and pocketed a couple of packets of sugar and creamer for Kimberly. He paid and quickly took a sip of the hot liquid meant for him. It burned going down his throat in the best way possible.
Back at the SUV, Kimberly rolled down her window so he could hand her one of the cups. He gave her the condiments next, frustrated that he remembered in such detail the way she took her coffee. Two packets of sugar. One and a half packets of creamer. She stirred twice and then dipped the stirrer into her mouth to get the first taste. That was generally followed by a sigh of pleasure when she got it just right or a frown when the balance of flavor was off. Mitch liked his coffee strong and black; he didn’t need any fancy fixings.
He took another sip as he rounded the front of his vehicle. His gaze stopped on a white sedan pulling in from the east entrance. It was the middle of the night but this place was hopping.
The sedan slowed to almost a crawl and an uneasy feeling settled over Mitch. What was this guy doing?
He tucked his chin to his chest and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Anyone you know drive a white four-door sedan?”
Kimberly shook her head.
It was probably nothing. Mitch decided to err on the side of caution when he pulled out of his parking spot and then took off in the opposite direction that he’d intended. He glanced at his rearview mirror in time to see the sedan hesitate. Was the driver watching?
He’d know in a minute.
“Where am I taking you?” he asked.
“You’re coming with me, right?” Kimberly balked.
“There’s no reason for us to be together. The way I see it, if someone’s after you the babies are in danger as long as you’re around.” Saying those words were knife jabs, but he choked his own feelings back. There was no reason to give in to nostalgia. “If the people who are after you are criminals—and it sounds like they are—you’d be better off turning yourself into a government office. The US Marshals Service comes to mind. In case you haven’t heard, there’s a thing called witness protection.”
“I didn’t see anything to report,” she pushed back. “I’m not a witness.”
“You’d do better with law enforcement investigating your father,” he stated. She didn’t seem too keen on that idea based on the sharp breath she blew out.
“If all you plan to do is drop me off somewhere, you shouldn’t care what I do next,” she said.
“Your actions so far have put me and the twins in danger.” He didn’t want to admit this, but if she was determined not to bring in law enforcement, he had no choice but to watch her. He told himself that it had nothing to do with his instincts to protect his family. He could hide out for a couple of days without putting too much strain on the ranch. The image of the butchered heifer crowded his thoughts. If he put a great security team in place, he could figure out what the hell was going on with Kimberly.
His feelings toward his wife should be dead by now.
So why did the prospect of being with her 24/7 stir up feelings he couldn’t afford to allow?