Kimberly’s husband turned toward her and took a few steps in her direction. No. No. No. Go back.
Seeing her babies, their sweet faces, was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. The twins were one-year-old now and she’d known their first-year checkup would be around this time. It wasn’t difficult to call the scheduler of the pediatrician she’d meticulously vetted to get the exact day and time.
Pain nearly crippled her but she fought against the tide of emotion. She couldn’t lose control. There was too much at stake.
Life was about to spin out of control. Again. Seeing her twins one more time was a risk that Kimberly Kent—correction, Lily Grable—had had to take. The past eleven months had been excruciating, like living in a cave with no prayer of sunlight breaking through the darkness.
Life had taught Kimberly how to deal with loss early on. But nothing had prepared her for walking away from the only man she could ever love and the babies she’d only dreamed were possible. Happily-ever-after was for princesses, not orphans like Kimberly. And now she risked making all of that heartache count for nothing if Mitch recognized her. Or worse if the men watching her connected the dots to her family.
Panic seized her.
Let Mitch get a few steps closer and he would make a scene. She let herself take another look at him even though the grip around her heart from before tightened the minute she did.
Mitch looked even better than she remembered. At six foot four he’d always dwarfed her. His wide chest and ripples of muscles were visible underneath his Western shirt. Those muscled thighs... She could see wisps of his sandy-brown hair from the rim of his gray Stetson. The color of his hat would match the steel of his eyes.
Maybe she could play it cool and Mitch would stop. There was no way he could realize who she was with as much as she’d changed her appearance. Right? She looked at her husband from out of the corner of her eye and her stomach fell. He was too curious to give up, and that was bad.
He’d expose her, himself and the babies. She glanced toward the pair of men who’d found her. They’d seen her but had they pegged her? Did they know who she was? That was the big question.
Kimberly eased around the back of the sculpture, forcing her body to move away from Mitch when every muscle inside her wanted to run toward him instead. She breathed in the heavy Texas autumn air and tried to block out the memories of feeling safe in his arms. A storm was brewing and the humidity kicked up a few notches alongside her pulse.
Her heart pounded against her ribs at the thought she might be bringing the men who were chasing her right to her husband and children’s doorstep. Whoever had killed her father and was now after her seemed ready to stop at nothing. The men wouldn’t think twice about using her children or Mitch to draw her out. And even after two and a half years she had no idea what they wanted from her. All she knew was that her father had gotten himself into trouble. Beyond that she had no idea with whom or how. Her street smarts had kept her alive. She’d immediately changed her identity and gotten out of New Mexico.
But those creeps always seemed to catch up no matter how well she hid.
She’d had no choice but to disappear after giving birth, once the creeps had shown up in Jacobstown, Texas. She still had no idea what they wanted from her. Her father had left her a cryptic message to stay in the shadows until he cleaned up his mess hours before his death—a death that had been ruled an accident, but Kimberly knew better. There was no way her father would’ve drowned. He couldn’t swim and was deathly afraid of the water, although he’d never admitted to that fear. The man had never once been out on a boat, so it made even less sense that he would’ve rented one, taken it out and then—what?—decided to jump off the side and swim for the first time in his life?
Guilt nipped at her. She’d known he was in trouble but she had been too involved in work at the small craft boutique and night school to stop to ask why. Her father had been acting strange for months, missing their dinner dates and not picking up his cell when she called. His behavior had been erratic and she could kick herself for not pressing him for details about why he was acting so weird. She’d honestly and naively believed that he’d tell her if something was really wrong. He’d always been her rock and she’d been able to count on him. Losing her foster mom to kidney disease had been hard on both of them. At the time she had thought that most of her dad’s antics had to do with grief.
Looking back she should’ve seen the signs. Should’ve taken him more seriously. Should’ve been a better daughter to the man who’d taken her in when she was at her lowest point and saved her life.
“You’re scaring me, Dad,” she’d admitted when he’d asked her to get rid of her cell and use the new one he’d handed her.
“I’m being cautious,” he’d defended. “Make your old man happy and use the phone.”
“Only if you promise to tell me what this is about,” she’d said.
“I will. Give me a couple of days to get it sorted out first,” he’d promised.
“You’re sure this isn’t a big deal?” It had felt like one with the way he was acting.
“I owe someone a little money and they’re blowing it out of proportion.” He’d winked at her. “Nothing I can’t handle. I just don’t want you being bothered until I get this sorted out.”
The only reason she’d left it at that was because he’d seemed embarrassed. She’d thought maybe he didn’t want his creditor calling her, so she’d left it at face value.
Guilt was a face punch. If she’d pushed him for answers, he might still be alive.
When Deputy Talisman had all but accused her of foul play in order to inherit her father’s business, she’d been defensive. It had become clear to her pretty quickly that she was going to be the target of his investigation. And then two men had busted into her apartment in the middle of the night. She’d barely managed to escape and had been on the run ever since.
Marrying Mitch had been done on a whim. The almost-immediate pregnancy had been a shock. And she would pay the price for those lapses in judgment for the rest of her life, which would be short if the creeps following her caught up to her.
A part of her wondered if this whole ordeal would ever be over. Could she come back to the life she’d loved with Mitch and the babies?
Reality said it would be impossible.
Her heart galloped at the sight of her husband moving toward her out of the corner of her eye, along with her sweet babies, who turned one today. Birthdays were supposed to be happy events. But being this close without being able to touch her children felt like knife jabs to her chest.
Knowing that the twins would be at the office of the pediatrician she’d meticulously vetted prior to having those two little miracles had made it far too tempting. Going anywhere near Jacobstown, Texas, or the ranch was and had been off-limits. Those were lines she knew better than to cross. No matter how much she wanted—no, needed—to see her babies again, she couldn’t risk bringing the creeps she’d been running from for an exhausting two and-a-half years to their doorstep. And then there was Mitch...
Seeing him again hurt.
Leaving a question mark in her husband’s mind about her death wasn’t ideal—a determined man could be dangerous. And part of her wished she could’ve confided in him, wished he could save her. She’d been close to confessing in the days before finding out she was pregnant. She’d known he would put his life at risk and she’d needed him to focus on protecting the twins.
How stupid had she been when she’d met him to think she could ever have a normal life? A normal life with kids and a man she loved, who loved her in return more than anything else?
That kind of love had been too powerful to turn her back on and had seduced her into thinking she could disappear into obscurity in the small town where she’d been hiding.
Mitch was everything a man should be to her—strong, virile...honest. Lying to him about her identity had been even more difficult because of that. Kimberly had been lying to herself for so long that she’d all but forgotten how to be truthful anymore. And maybe that’s what had drawn her to the serious rancher with the steel-colored eyes.
Falling for Mitch Kent had been the easy part. She’d done that hard. Apparently she’d knocked a few screws loose when she’d made that tumble, because she’d landed in a fantasy that said if she kept a low profile, everything in her life would magically work out. But there were a few determined men who wanted to erase her presence. By the time she’d met Mitch, she’d already been running for six months.
A part of her wished—prayed—that he would forget all about her. The other part—the selfish part—couldn’t go there even hypothetically. She wanted him to remember her, to love her.
“Kimberly,” he said from behind her, and there was certainty in his voice instead of a question.
Certainty would kill them all.
A glance to the right said Mitch wasn’t the only one about to close in on her. She felt like a mouse trapped in a maze.
There had to be something to use to create a distraction so she could get out of there. The air thinned, making it difficult to breathe.
A middle-aged woman wearing jeans and a light sweater walked toward her from the south with a black Lab on a leash. Kimberly bolted toward the woman and forced a smile.
“Can I pet your dog, ma’am?” she asked, pouring on the sweetness.
The woman beamed.
“Of course,” she said as she went on about the dog’s age and pedigree.
Kimberly dropped down to one knee before unhooking the leash in the bustling complex.
“I’m sorry,” she said to the confused woman before popping to her feet. She shooed the dog. “Run!”
The black Lab darted toward the fountain as the woman gasped and then called after him.
Okay, Kimberly felt awful for doing that and wished there’d been another way to create a diversion. In the heat of the moment, that was all she could think of.
With another quick apology, Kimberly wheeled left and sprinted away from the pediatrician’s building. A pair of heavy footsteps sounded from behind and she could tell by their rhythm that they were faster than her, racing closer and gaining ground.
At least Mitch would be stopped because of the stroller. Seeing those angelic round faces threatened to cripple her, but she couldn’t afford to give in. She had to protect what was hers. Stuffing her feelings down deep helped her focus.
Kimberly’s best chance to lose the pair of creeps catching up to her was to get lost inside the hospital behind the pediatrician’s office. She knew the area and that would give her an advantage. There would be armed security and the men following her wouldn’t risk making themselves the center of attention by pulling something stupid. She hoped.
At least she could draw them away from Mitch and the babies. Kimberly sprinted around another building, trying to lose the men in the maze of buildings. Her thighs burned and her lungs were starting to wheeze.
The footsteps behind her stopped. Her worst fear seized her. Were the men circling back for Mitch?
Her breath caught and her heart screamed no.
How stupid and selfish had she been to come here? The past eleven months had been about taking calculated risks and watching her back at every turn. She’d just led those men practically to Mitch’s doorstep. Kimberly bit back a few choice words, refusing to let negativity drag her under.
With the stroller, it would be impossible for Mitch to catch up to her. She’d cleared a few buildings and had crossed over to the front of the hospital, slowing her pace to a brisk walk as she entered through the automatic glass doors.
Activity buzzed all around her, and the modern lobby looked like a coffeehouse, with tables sprinkled around and folks on their laptops. The main difference was the fact that doctors and nurses cut across the open space, making their way to restricted-access areas.
Taking a chance, Kimberly checked behind her for the men. Nothing. Her heart took a dive.
Where were they?
MITCH FLEXED AND released his hands on the grip bar of the stroller. He’d scared a woman half to death by thinking she was his dead wife. Wasn’t this turning into a banner day?
He wished he’d gotten a good look at Bleached-Blonde’s face before she’d put her arm up to shield it and then disappeared in the commotion after a dog got loose from its owner.
Great. Now he could add scaring strangers to the already stressful morning he was having.
Thankfully the twins were clueless. Rea happily cooed and chatted, and Aaron took everything in while sucking on a pair of his fingers.
The men who’d been eyeing the Bleached-Blonde seemed to have given up on her. They’d returned to the plaza before heading toward the parking lot. It was probably Mitch’s imagination that had him thinking those two were after her. He could add paranoia to his growing list of deficiencies.
The news from Lone Star Lonnie had thrown Mitch for a loop, on top of everything else he was dealing with, and maybe he was starting to crack. That was the only explanation for why he believed that he’d just seen his dead wife. She was on his mind even more than usual today. It was time to get back to reality, including getting his babies to their appointment.
Mitch pushed the stroller through the opened double doors and then took the elevator up to the third floor. He checked in and then waited.
A few minutes later he was ushered into the blue room to wait for the doctor and find out how much his life was about to change. Again.
Good news came from the pediatrician. Rea looked to be growing out of her heart defect. She’d have to continue to be monitored, which he’d expected, but the hole in her lower valve seemed to be closing on its own. Gratitude washed over Mitch, bringing a few stray tears to his eyes.
The drive from Fort Worth to Jacobstown gave him the chance to fill in his siblings and cousins, thanks to Bluetooth technology and his cell phone. Joyce, the twins’ caregiver, met him on the driveway. She’d decorated the dining room with balloons and went to work serving lunch and cake to celebrate before taking the kiddos up for their naps.
Mitch had kissed both babies before picking up the fresh flowers he’d ordered and heading out the back door.
Joyce was a sweet woman in her late sixties who’d helped bring up Mitch, along with his siblings. She’d managed to wrangle six Kent children before retiring years ago but when she’d learned one of her “babies” was having babies, she’d insisted on returning to care for them.
Lucky for him, Kimberly had welcomed Joyce’s help. The fact that she’d taken to the idea had caught him off guard at first. Kimberly had always been a private person. And that was where his luck had run out.
Sitting on the bench he’d carved out of solid wood beside the tallest oak on the property, he looked down at the marker. Kimberly Kent—loving wife and devoted mother.
She wasn’t supposed to be buried there. His mind pointed out that she technically wasn’t. It didn’t matter. Kimberly Kent was gone.
He crossed his boots at the ankles.
When the twins were old enough, he’d bring them here to see their mother. He set the fresh flowers down—lilies. Her favorite. They reminded him of her, of her fresh-from-the-shower scent.
The wind started to pick up as a few more gray clouds rolled in, reflecting his somber mood. Rain was in the forecast, in the air, and it had been drier than a salt lick all week.
The feeling of being watched settled over him. Amber? One of his brothers? He scanned the meadow but saw nothing. Further proof that he was losing it.
The idea anyone could be in the meadow without his knowledge hit hard. Someone had been on the ranch undetected. The sheer amount of acreage owned by the Kent family made it impossible to monitor every inch. But still...
His gaze dropped to the plot of land in front of him.
“I saw you outside the pediatrician’s office today,” he said to the green grass over an empty grave. “Even though it couldn’t have been you, I wanted her to be.” He paused, choking back the emotion threatening to consume him—emotion that he’d successfully buried. “Rea’s doctor visit was good. She’s going to be just fine.” Another pause to get his emotions in check. “I miss you, Kimberly.”
Mitch cursed. Now he was talking to dirt.
He pushed up to stand as an empty feeling engulfed him, threatening to drag him under and toss him around before spitting him out again like a deadly riptide.
Pain made him feel alive after being hollow inside for months. The ache in his chest every time he took in air was the only reminder he was still breathing.
A prickly feeling ran up the back of his neck, like when someone said a cat walked over a grave.
Mitch didn’t do emotions, so why the hell were his like a race car at full speed, careening out of control and toward the wall today? His baby sister’s words from last year kept winding through his thoughts, drowning out logic and reason, the two things he was good at.
What if she’s alive? What if she’s still out there?
Mitch touched the grave marker, dragging his fingers across the smooth granite and into the grooves made by the letters of Kimberly’s name.
And then he tucked his feelings down deep before texting Lone Star Lonnie that he was on his way to check out the heifer before it rained.
Walking away from his wife’s grave was especially tough today. His thoughts were heavy as he made his way to the base of Rushing Creek, on the northeast side of the property.
Even though he’d prepared for the worst, the site still caught him off guard. Blood was everywhere. His heifer was on her right side in a pool of red on flat land. There was no sign of a trap that could’ve taken off her hoof and messed up her leg like that. She’d bled out and that would’ve been a slow death.
Anger roared through him as he thought about how much she’d suffered. It was inhumane to do this to an animal. Lone Star Lonnie had downplayed the situation with the heifer, Mitch thought as he stood over her.
Everything inside him felt as torn up and drained as the lifeless heifer next to him.
Whoever had done this would be brought to justice.