Читать книгу Bodyguard Under Fire - Elle James - Страница 13

Chapter Four

PJ felt as if she was walking on eggshells the entire time Chuck and Hank were eating their breakfast. Several times she fumbled coffee mugs, almost dropping them.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Cara Jo rested a hand on her arm. “The world will not come to an end because the old fiancé is back in town.”

“I know. But we haven’t had the talk yet. I don’t know what he’s going to want in the way of visitation with Charlie.” PJ wrung her hands, staring at Chuck’s back. “He might sue for custody, for all I know.”

Cara Jo clucked her tongue. “Don’t borrow trouble, sweetie. He doesn’t strike me as the vindictive type.”

“No, but he’s always wanted children. He’ll want to be a part of Charlie’s life.”

“And that’s a problem?” Cara Jo’s brows rose. “Honey, a girl needs a daddy in her life. Not that you wouldn’t do a good job of raising her. But having a good male role model sets her up for future relationships and expectations of the kind of men she should date.”

“Charlie’s only three months old, for God’s sake.” PJ flung her hands in the air. “I’m not ready for my baby to start dating.”

Cara Jo chuckled. “I know. But having a good role model early in her life gives her a firm foundation when it comes to the kind of guy she might one day marry.”

PJ pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache forming at the thought of Charlie as a teen. “I don’t want to think about Charlie dating or marrying until at least after the terrible twos.”

“Order up!” Mrs. Kinsley yelled through the window from the kitchen.

Cara Jo handed her two plates of biscuits and gravy. “Sadly, it’ll be here before you know it. Take these to table nine, while I see if I can help Mrs. Kinsley catch up.”

PJ threw herself into taking orders and delivering food, busing tables in between. The hectic pace kept her too busy for her eyes to stray to the corner where Chuck and Hank sat, taking their sweet time over coffee. Still, her gaze found its way there every time she turned around.

Chuck’s broad shoulders and the high-and-tight military haircut made butterflies swarm in her belly and stirred the longing she’d thought was buried with the letters from Chuck she’d kept in a box beneath her bed.

She hadn’t opened them for fear she’d lose her determination and conviction that she was doing the right thing by moving on. Yet she hadn’t returned them or thrown them away. At first, he’d sent a letter every other day after he’d deployed to Afghanistan. When she refused to respond, the letters slowed to a trickle until about a month before Charlie was born, when they’d stopped altogether.

In her eighth month of pregnancy, PJ had never felt more alone. Sure, Cara Jo had been beside her, had gone to prenatal classes with her and coached her through the actual delivery, but it wasn’t the same.

The guilt of not having told Chuck of the baby and her continued longing gnawed at her heart. She hadn’t wanted to give her heart to him, knowing he’d leave her and possibly never come back. With her luck, he’d die just like every other presumably permanent person in her life. Her mother, what little she remembered of her, and her adoptive mother. Hell, she had never known her father.

Now she had Charlie in her life, and every day she worried that something horrible would happen to her. And it almost had the night before.

On her break PJ retreated to the diner office to use the telephone and dialed the number for the day care.

“Heavenly Hope Day Care, this is Dana.”

“Oh, good,” PJ breathed. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“PJ?”

“I know it’s overprotective of me, but I had to call and check on Charlie.”

“I’m holding her in my arms as we speak. She’s just fine.” Dana paused. “How about you? You sound a bit shaken.”

“I guess I am after last night’s attack.”

The phone clattered and Dana muttered an expletive before saying, “Sorry, dropped the phone. Now, what do you mean attack? You didn’t say anything about it when you dropped Charlie off. Did Chuck attack you?”

PJ shoved a hand through her hair and sighed. “Sorry, Dana. I must have forgotten, what with Chuck being there and all.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Chuck came in and saved the day.” PJ glanced around the office. “I have to get back to work. I just wanted to know Charlie was okay.”

“I’ll keep an extra special eye on her and let you know of anything out of the ordinary. Sheesh. Attacked? You better fill me in on all the details this afternoon.”

“I will.”

“That’s something a girl doesn’t forget. I guess having Chuck around has you completely rattled.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” PJ said her goodbyes and hung up. When she returned to the dining room, her gaze went straight to the empty corner booth.

The tension eased from her shoulders, and she let go of the breath she’d been holding for what felt like the entire morning.

The sooner she got used to having Chuck around, the better. No doubt, knowing he had a child, the big cowboy wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

The rest of the morning passed quickly with customers straggling in for late breakfast and then into the lunch hours. PJ glanced toward the door every time the bell above it jingled, half expecting Chuck to stride through.

Her nerves were shot by the time the lunch crowd thinned and she hung up her apron. “If you don’t mind, I have to leave early to get some errands done and study before I pick up Charlie at the day care.”

Cara Jo smiled. “No problem. I can handle the cleanup. Go on. And PJ...”

PJ slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and faced Cara Jo.

“Things will turn out for the best. Just you wait and see.” Cara Jo hugged her.

PJ returned the hug, her vision blurred with ready tears. “I hope so.” She left the diner and climbed the back stairs to her apartment over the resort. The shadowy hallway made her hurry along, her key at the ready.

When she stepped into the apartment, her gaze darted all around the postage stamp-size living-room-and-kitchen combo. The normal scents of talcum powder and baby shampoo held a hint of aftershave.

PJ shivered and wondered when that smell would dissipate. She vowed to throw open the windows when she got home that evening to air it out.

As she grabbed her notebook and papers from her corner desk, she paused. The photo album she kept on the shelf above her ancient computer stuck out a little more than usual. It hadn’t been that way that morning when she’d straightened her desk before heading for work.

Her chest tightened as a chill slipped across the back of her neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. How long would it take to erase the memory of a man breaking and entering her home? Not only had her apartment been breached, but her safe haven had also been compromised.

Every little thing that seemed out of place would get more scrutiny. PJ shoved aside her paranoia and left, carefully locking the door. As a second thought, she tore off a corner of one of her papers and slipped it between the door and jamb above the lock. If someone broke in, the paper would be displaced. Call her crazy, but she needed some measure of security, and though minuscule, the little trick left her feeling a little more in control.

Her apartment behind her, PJ climbed into her car and headed for the law offices of Hanes and Taylor. She had to know what her rights were and what she might face if Chuck decided he wanted custody of Charlie.

Even the slimmest chance of losing custody of her baby had PJ’s gut so knotted she could hardly breathe.

* * *

THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Chuck worked on projects ranging from replacing rotted eaves to mucking stalls. In between tasks, he made it a habit to swing by the diner’s wide windows to peek in at PJ.

So many times during his tour in Afghanistan he’d dreamed of seeing PJ again, of holding her in his arms. In his imagination, he could hear her voice telling him she’d been wrong, that she wanted him in her life no matter what profession he chose.

Those dreams had helped him hold it together during the dangerous missions. The thought of coming back to Wild Oak Canyon to salvage his relationship with the woman he loved ended in a hero’s welcome. Such were his dreams.

The reality was, PJ had lied to him by withholding information about Charlie. If Chuck hadn’t returned to Wild Oak Canyon, he’d never have known he had a daughter.

His chest swelled as he thought of the tiny baby, lying in her crib, her soft tuft of hair like silk against his fingers.

He’d smashed his fingers with a hammer more than once, losing his focus over little Charlie. And the more he saw PJ through the window, the more he alternated between wanting to hold her and wanting to shake her.

Around noon, he ducked into the resort office.

The young woman manning the counter, barely out of her teens, smiled. “May I help you?”

Chuck read the name tag. “Hi, Alicia. I’m Chuck, the new handyman.”

Alicia reached across the counter and shook Chuck’s hand. “Welcome to Wild Oak Canyon Resort.”

“Do you know of any repairs that need to be made in any of the rooms?”

The young woman behind the counter smiled and shrugged. “I only work part-time in the afternoons after my classes get out at the community college, so I don’t always get the 4-1-1. You’ll have to ask the new manager.”

“Ms. Smithson?” Chuck asked.

“Yes, sir. You can find her at the diner until about two. Then she’ll be back in her office at the resort.”

Chuck glanced at the old-fashioned guest register on the counter, committing the names on the list to memory. Perhaps one of the guests was PJ’s attacker. “Are there many guests this time of year?”

“It’s a slow season, from what they tell me. Only about twenty-five people are here for the week. Many are planning to attend the rodeo in the neighboring town. We get the overflow.”

Chuck made a note to work with Cara Jo to review the list of guests and to get Hank to run a background check on any who might be questionable. Since the attack had just happened only the night before, whoever did it could be new in town, thus needing a place to stay. One close enough where he could study PJ’s every move. Chuck’s fists tightened. The sooner he discovered the culprit and put him in jail—or out of his misery—the better. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Alicia.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Chuck went back to work in the stable. By early afternoon, he’d finished mucking stalls and was just emptying a wheelbarrow full of manure in the pile behind the stables when he saw PJ’s car pull out of the rear parking lot of the resort. Even if he hadn’t been tasked with protecting the confounded woman, curiosity got the better of him.

Chuck dusted off his jeans, climbed into his truck and followed. Wild Oak Canyon wasn’t a big enough town to boast a single stoplight. A couple of dozen streets crisscrossed in straight lines on the flat terrain.

PJ pulled into a building a few blocks from the diner.

Chuck waited at a stop sign until PJ went inside before he passed. His heart skipped several beats when he read the sign in front of the neat little house, converted into a business. Hanes and Taylor, Attorneys at Law.

Was that the way she’d play this? Anger spiked as he turned the corner and circled the block. Most likely she was getting legal advice about child custody.

As Chuck rounded the block and came back out on Main, PJ’s car was pulling away from the curb. She hadn’t had time to consult with anyone. She had probably only set up an appointment.

Chuck’s jaw tightened. Tonight, he and PJ would have a talk about Charlie’s future. A future that would include Chuck, by God.

Feeling a bit guilty over stalking PJ, Chuck left a big gap between his truck and her car.

PJ’s next stop was on the other side of town at a quaint little church with a fenced playground out back and a sign out front with the words painted in block letters, Heavenly Hope Day Care.

Chuck kept his distance, parking in an abandoned gas station until PJ came out.

Twenty minutes later, he’d about given up when PJ emerged carrying an infant car seat, Charlie’s little head barely visible over the sides. Her tiny hand waved at the sky, bringing a smile to Chuck’s face.

He wanted to hold his little girl, to get to know her and watch her grow.

Had PJ not shut him out of her life, Chuck would have moved heaven and earth to be there when Charlie came into the world. He sighed. Then again, the army didn’t always let soldiers out of their deployments for the births of their children. Even had PJ told him he was going to be a father, he probably wouldn’t have gotten a furlough to return home for the event.

He could understand some of the reasoning behind PJ keeping the birth of his child from him. But Charlie was three months old. Chuck had been back in the States for a month of that, in the hospital for rehab and then processing out of the military.

After almost a year’s separation, he’d thought he’d be over PJ, but that was as far from the truth as he could get.

The woman had never been far from his mind, and his job of protecting her would only put them closer still.

Chuck considered asking Hank to pull him from this case. But who did he know he could trust to guarantee PJ’s safety? And who had as much at stake when it came to Charlie?

If the Mexican Mafia was after PJ and Charlie, he’d need a friggin’ army to surround her, especially in this part of south Texas where drugs traveled across the border seemingly unconstrained. There were enough Mafia members on both sides of the border that if they wanted PJ and Charlie, one cowboy wasn’t going to stop them. Chuck wondered if the four cowboys Hank had hired made up the entirety of Covert Cowboys, Inc., or if Hank had additional help he hadn’t met yet.

Chuck stayed behind PJ as she drove back to her apartment. He gave her five minutes to unload and get into her room before he parked and climbed out.

The more he thought about PJ and Charlie being at risk with the Mexican Mafia, the more he needed to know about those he might be up against. A visit with Hank’s computer guru who had access to just about anything that had a computer footprint was in order. But first, he had to make sure PJ and Charlie would be okay.

Chuck scanned the parking lot, noting all the shadowy areas a person could hide to ambush an unsuspecting mother. He made notes to himself to trim back bushes and install motion-sensor lighting to ward off surprise attacks. Since he, PJ and Cara Jo were the only people who should be parking behind the buildings, safety in numbers wasn’t really an option.

At the top of the staircase leading to the pair of apartments he and PJ occupied, Chuck paused and surveyed the hallway. The light overhead gave a dingy glow. He’d clean the globe and change the bulbs.

He paused with his fist hovering over PJ’s door and got a good whiff of his own stench. After mucking horse manure for part of the day, he probably smelled like the stuff.

Chuck turned back toward his apartment when PJ’s door jerked open.

“I knew it.”

Chuck spun to face her.

She had Charlie in her arms and a scowl on her face. “You were following me, weren’t you?”

Chuck couldn’t lie to her. “Yes.”

“I don’t need a keeper, so back off.”

“Are you mad because I followed you or because I saw that you stopped at an attorney’s office?” he threw back at her.

Charlie batted at her mother’s face, blowing bubbles with her spit.

Chuck had a hard time staying mad when the baby drew his attention out of the fight.

“I only made an appointment. I figured we’d have to have some kind of agreement written up over visitation with Charlie.”

“We still need to have that talk.”

PJ sighed. “I know.”

“But let me get a shower first. I smell like hell.”

PJ’s nose twitched, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You really do.”

Chuck’s heart flipped. He’d missed her smile. “Five minutes.”

“Just knock.”

Chuck hurriedly collected his toiletries and ducked beneath the hot spray, scrubbing away a day of hard work. It had been a long time since he’d worked with horses and barnyards. His muscles were stiff from shoveling. Other than digging foxholes, he hadn’t had to shovel much in the army, and he could tell the muscles had been neglected. And his bum leg ached like hell.

He let the warm water pepper his muscles as he collected his thoughts for the coming confrontation with PJ.

Showered and dressed in clean clothes, he knocked on PJ’s door.

“Just a minute,” she called out.

A moment later, she opened the door, again holding Charlie. “Sorry. We were in the middle of Charlie’s supper.” PJ tugged her T-shirt down over her hip.

It took a moment for Chuck to digest her meaning. When it hit him that she had been breastfeeding Charlie, his face heated.

PJ folded a cloth over his shoulder and held Charlie out. “Here, you can burp her while I fix something to eat.” Once he’d taken the baby, she performed an about-face and hurried toward the kitchenette in the corner. “I hope you like spaghetti. It’s cheap and easy to fix.”

“I didn’t expect you to cook for me.”

She shrugged. “It’s just as easy to cook spaghetti for two as for one person.”

Chuck still held Charlie out at arm’s length. “How do I burp her?”

PJ chuckled. “Lay her over your shoulder and pat her back. She’ll do the rest.”

No sooner had Chuck laid her over his shoulder than Charlie burped.

“See?” PJ turned with a wooden spoon in her hand. “Easy.”

“All I did was put her on my shoulder.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” She waved the spoon. “Pat her back anyway. She probably has another one in there.”

In awe and a little afraid of the tiny bundle of baby, Chuck patted her back gently, afraid he’d break her little body with his big hand.

“Oh, come on, she won’t break. Give her a firm pat.”

Chuck patted her back again, this time a little harder. Nothing happened.

“Don’t stop. She likes it.”

As he patted her back, Chuck paced across the small room and back, sure he was doing it wrong. Finally Charlie burped again and cooed.

The sound made Chuck’s heart skip several beats. “Is that normal?”

“That’s her way of saying thank you. I told you, she likes it.”

Chuck glanced at PJ standing with her back to him. She seemed to be thinner than he remembered. “How was it?”

“What?”

“Your pregnancy, the delivery? I want to know.”

“I did fine. I guess my body is built for bearing children. No health issues and a natural delivery.”

He wanted to know more, but he clamped down on his tongue to keep from asking too many personal questions. “I would have been there...”

“I know you would have. If you could have.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He tipped Charlie into the crook of his arm and stared down into her little face.

“You weren’t here. You wouldn’t have been here even had you known.” Her hand stopped stirring the sauce, and she stood for a long moment, unmoving. “Your focus needed to be on staying alive. What was the point in telling you?”

His anger stirred again. “The point is, I’m Charlie’s father.”

“And if there had been complications, what could you have done from Afghanistan?”

Chuck sighed. “Nothing.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“I won’t try to keep you from seeing Charlie,” PJ said.

Chuck stared up at PJ. She’d lied by omission about Charlie. Would she lie about trying to keep him from seeing his daughter? What about the visit to the attorney? Was she only trying to set an agreement in place, or was she preparing to cut him out of Charlie’s life?

At this point, Hank didn’t want her to know Chuck had been hired as her bodyguard, not as a handyman as he’d told PJ.

PJ glanced at him and sighed. Then she held her hand up, spoon and all. “I swear on my mothers’ graves I won’t keep you from Charlie. There. Are you satisfied?”

Chuck nodded. He liked the strong, determined woman she’d grown into in the year he’d been away, and found himself even more attracted to her than before. “Okay. I trust you.” He might trust her about visitation with Charlie, but he wasn’t as sure about where they stood, or if he trusted her with his heart. Was attraction enough?

“Trust or not, it’s the truth.” She turned back to the stove. “You about ready for dinner?”

Chuck gazed down at the baby sleeping in his arms. He didn’t want to let go of her even to eat supper. “I guess.”

PJ chuckled. “Does my cooking reputation precede me? I’m not Cara Jo, but I can—”

Footsteps pounded on the staircase and then in the hallway outside PJ’s apartment door.

PJ turned to Chuck. “Give me Charlie.” She held out her hands for the baby.

Chuck handed her over and motioned for her to get behind him. “Go into the bedroom and close the door.”

PJ did as she was told, her eyes wide, her face pale. As she closed the bedroom door, someone pounded on the door to the apartment.

“Help! Please, help!” a female voice called out, followed by loud sobs.

Chuck peered through the peephole and then yanked the door open.

The young woman from the resort front desk fell against his chest, her face streaked with tears. “Please help him.”