Читать книгу Colton's Fugitive Family - Jennifer Morey - Страница 11

Wolf’s cries overpowered Demi’s fear. Holding him against her in the baby carrier pack she’d put on, she tried to calm him and keep him quiet. How had Devlin found her? Had Lucas led him here?

The Jeep was useless with a flat tire. She’d have to change it, and how would she do that without being noticed or being killed? Had she been able to reach the Jeep before the gunfire exploded, Wolf wouldn’t be in tears and she’d be gone. Now only her baby’s safety mattered. She had to get back to the cabin.

If she could find Lucas’s keys, she could still get away, but that would have to wait. Her conscience nettled her that she’d be leaving him here with a killer. No matter what he said, he intended to hand her over to authorities. What else could she do? She had to think of Wolf. If she was arrested, what would happen to him?

Seeing Lucas disappear into the woods, she ran to the cabin, going in the front. She took a moment to calm Wolf, rocking him and looking down into his teary green eyes. He had red hair and a cute face. Right now his cheeks were bulbous with his open and crying mouth.

“I’m sorry.” She kissed his head. “I’m sorry.” This was all Devlin’s fault. Her son should not have to endure this. He should be sleeping in his crib, warm, safe and dry.

The baby began to quiet, looking up at her in a way that always melted her, with such trust and love. His sleepy eyes closed and opened. She’d put him to bed once she was sure he felt safe again.

Demi looked around the cabin. Lucas had left nothing behind. She went to the window he’d broken in through and looked outside. There was a backpack there.

She covered Wolf in the soft blanket and checked her surroundings on the porch, making sure the gunman had fled. Lucas had no doubt chased him through the woods. She hurried to the side of the cabin. Crouching at the backpack, holding Wolf securely against her, even though the baby carrier did that for her, she saw he’d fallen asleep. She dug through the contents of Lucas’s bag. The main compartment held nothing but extra clothes and water bottles. The smaller pockets held other essentials like trail mix, a GPS and a small first aid kit. No mobile phone. No handcuffs. No keys.

Standing, she returned to the front, not seeing Lucas and not hearing any gunfire. He had his keys on him. She was trapped here. She closed and locked the door and put Wolf to bed. Seeing that Lucas had closed the window, she locked it and then the secret door before going back into the living room. It was cold in the cabin. She went to the window he’d compromised and closed and locked that. Getting duct tape from the kitchen junk drawer that served as her tool box, she taped up the hole in the glass. Before closing the drapes, she saw that two or three inches of fresh snow already covered the ground.

A knock on the front door told her Lucas had returned. He’d spent a while out there, tracking the shooter.

She went to the door and said, “Just go away, Lucas.”

“I can’t leave, Demi, especially now. Devlin got away.”

He was that sure it was Devlin who’d shot at them? Devlin could afford to hire a gunman. He’d hired witnesses. Why not a hit man?

“Go away.”

“Let me in.”

“No.”

“Demi...”

“No! Go away. You should have never come here.” She kept her voice low enough not to disturb Wolf but loud enough for Lucas to hear her.

“You need me. Let me in.”

“I don’t need you,” she snapped, her defenses flaring. What made him think she needed him?

“You have a baby. You need help. You can’t defend him on your own. Surely you can see that. I can protect you both.”

A few months ago, when she responded to Shane’s text saying that the baby was okay, she’d immediately known she’d made a mistake. She could trust her brother, but he worked with cops. They’d know to look for a woman and infant. That had been a rare error on her part.

And Lucas did have a good point. When the shooter had fired at her, she’d gone wild with anxiety that Wolf would be harmed.

But this was Lucas offering his protection.

“How can I be sure you’re going to help me?”

“You won’t be. This storm is getting bad and you have a flat tire and broken windows in your Jeep. You need a vehicle. You can’t stay here anymore, Demi. Once the storm clears, I’ll get you out of here.”

Did he speak with a silver tongue? Although she could not argue his points. Would she be better off finding another way to get herself and Wolf somewhere else?

“Let me in. We can talk about what to do in the morning. Devlin won’t try to come back tonight. If he does, he’ll be trapped in this storm.”

With them? No, Devlin or his hit man would kill her and possibly Wolf. Then he could just take shelter in her cabin until the storm passed. The thought of Wolf hurt like that, or dead, made her sick.

Lucas could make it to town before the storm really got bad, but he’d return once the roads were passable again and she’d be hard-pressed to get away before he did. On the other hand, if she allowed him to stay, she could ride the storm out and wait for another opportunity to escape. She could take his keys while he slept. He’d be okay in the cabin until he found a way out. An outdoorsman like him could hike to the road or even town. By then she’d be long gone.

She unlocked the door, pulled it open and stepped back.

Lucas stood with snowflakes covering him, his gun held down at his side and his pack slung over his other shoulder. He looked manly and strong and sexier than she’d ever seen him.

“I knew you’d see reason.” He grinned.

“This doesn’t mean I trust you.” She folded her arms.

He walked inside. “Oh, believe me, I know.” He brushed the snow off himself and stomped his feet. He looked around. “Where is the baby?”

“In bed.”

He looked at her. “Can I see him?” He put his pack down.

Indecision gnawed her. He must be wondering if the baby was Bo’s child—if he had a nephew. What harm would it be to allow him a look?

She led him to her bedroom and the secret door, which she unlocked to allow him inside.

“This is a little overkill, isn’t it?” he asked as he walked to the crib.

“You think it’s overkill after being shot at tonight?” She came to stand at the foot of the crib. Wolf lay sleeping on his back, the blanket up to his chin.

Lucas turned on the light on the side table. Then he used his finger to pull the blanket farther down. He gazed at Wolf for endless seconds. Then his eyes lifted to catch hers. She saw the unvoiced question. Was the baby his nephew? Next she saw the pain of loss and a wish for some kind of link to his dead brother.

Empathy took her by surprise. She met his eyes for a while, flustered and reeling. This felt like a connection, but there could be none because this was her enemy.

To her amazement, Lucas averted his eyes first. “What’s his name?”

“Wolf.”

He returned to his silent and reverent study of the baby.

Demi looked down at Wolf, befuddled over what was transpiring. Could it be that Lucas had come here to help her? Or had seeing his nephew in the flesh confused him?

She folded her arms, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Wolf was the most important thing in her life now. She’d had no way of predicting his importance before he was born. He’d been important as he’d grown inside her, but as soon as he came out into the world and gave that first cry, something had changed in her. When he’d been placed in her arms, she knew she’d never be the same. Every move he made, every twitch of his tiny arms, every shift of his head, was miraculous. When his newborn eyes met hers, she’d melted with love.

This man could take all of that from her.

When he looked up at her, she sensed he’d ask more questions.

“Let’s let him sleep.” Demi moved to the door and waited for Lucas to leave the room ahead of her.

He walked to the door and stopped, meeting her eyes as though guessing she didn’t want to talk about Wolf’s father.

“I’m going to board up the window, then I’ll sleep on the sofa.” He left the room.

Demi’s heart slammed. He’d backed off. Maybe he’d recognized the mama bear in her. Maybe he had decided to table his desire to see and hold the child of his dead brother. Demi could not trust her intuition. With Lucas, she’d been wrong too many times to give in to the primal attraction that had plagued her from the first time she met him. Okay, so she was attracted to him. That didn’t mean he was good for her.

Lucas lay on Demi’s living room sofa, his head on his folded arms, fireplace flickering, staring up at the shadows flickering on the ceiling. He had so much on his mind he couldn’t sleep. Demi’s determination to get away, her protectiveness of Wolf and, most of all, her reticence in talking about Bo. Why did she feel that way? Did she feel threatened? He could see why she’d taken such precautions in fleeing and hiding, and even securing Wolf in his nearly impenetrable room. She must fear his being taken from her and, of course, harmed in some way. Did she also fear that Lucas would take the baby after he turned her in? As a relative, Lucas could get custody of the baby if she were in jail.

What could he do to convince her he had no intention of turning her in? Maybe all she needed was time—to trust him or for him to prove that Devlin had become the prime suspect in the Groom Killer case. He felt obligated to make amends for believing her guilty for so long. He also knew how stubborn she could be.

Hearing her moving in her bedroom, he saw a light turn on. He listened to her open the secret door. How many times did she do that during the night? Maybe she hadn’t until now, when her location had been revealed and someone started shooting at her.

He heard her close and lock the door and then come into the hallway. She walked quietly, as though trying not to wake him.

“I’m not asleep.” He pushed the blanket off and stood to see her frozen in the kitchen.

He had kept his jeans on but was bare other than that. He watched her take in his chest and arms and then lift her eyes. Blinking, she turned and took out a glass from the cabinet. Lucas liked how she stretched her body to reach the upper shelf. She wore a sleeveless nightgown that fell to her knees and inched up her thighs. She was barefoot, like him. The gas fireplace kept it warm in here. The cabin had forced air heating, as well, but on such a cold night with blowing snow, the cabin would feel draftier without the extra heat.

“Nights like tonight I wish I had a television,” Demi said as she put the glass on the counter, the nightgown returning to her knees and her bare heels touching back down on the wood floor.

“I can’t sleep, either.”

Without acknowledging that, she opened the refrigerator and took out a milk container. He leaned against the island, the tree lights and fire the only sources of illumination after the refrigerator closed. He found it amazing that she’d managed to make such a welcoming home while on the run. Then again, as a bounty hunter, she knew how not to be found. Using a false name, plus her disguise, explained why it had taken so long for him to do so. She’d been on the run for a year. He should have known. He should not have underestimated her.

She glanced over at him as she finished pouring a glass of milk, her eyes going down the front of him before turning to put the milk carton away.

“Where’s Queenie?” she asked, in what must be a safe subject for her.

“She’s with Elle.” His dog was a beautiful Belgian Malinois, with a dark head faintly intermixed with chestnut brown that took over the rest of her body. She was one of the best ground and air trackers the Red Ridge Police Department’s K-9 Unit had. His sister, Elle Gage, had a dog, too, and was a rookie cop at the RRPD.

“You didn’t bring her?”

“I’ll pick her up when we’re back in Red Ridge.”

“We?” She sipped her milk and sent him a barely contained scowl as she walked into the living room.

He decided not to argue just now. Wind gusted and pelted snow against the side of the cabin. He welcomed the time he’d be stuck here with her. Trailing her, he sat at the opposite end of the sofa, listening to the storm. Demi had left the gas fireplace burning on low before going to bed. Flames flickered and added light in the small space.

“You must have been working hard to find me,” she said, putting her glass down on the side table. “You didn’t always think I was innocent.”

She said the last in a tone much more representative of her fiery spirit. She obviously did not believe he thought she was innocent, at least, not completely.

He put his feet up on the square ottoman and leaned back. “Oh, yeah. I tried very hard to find you when I thought you killed my brother.”

“But now you’ve changed your mind.”

She sounded like a smart-mouth. “With good reason.”

“With no proof,” she countered.

He again decided not to argue.

“Did everyone think I did it?” she asked.

“No, not everyone. Quite a few didn’t think you would kill anyone. Shane and Brayden drove me nuts.”

At the mention of her half brothers—Shane Colton, the ex-con turned private investigator and RRPD informant, and Brayden Colton, another RRPD K-9 officer—Demi’s face lit up. They had defended her but she likely hadn’t known that until now. He felt a little redemption inch its way into his regret.

“My brothers tried to exonerate me?” she asked.

“At first the evidence was difficult for them to ignore. After Tucker Frane was killed, Shane thought you were being framed.”

“Tucker said he saw me shoot a man in the alley between Bea’s Bridal and a French restaurant.”

“That’s why Shane began to suspect something was off.”

She angled herself on the sofa, bending her knees and looping her arms around them, settling in. For what, Lucas would wait cautiously to find out.

“And Brayden?” she asked.

“Brayden would rip my head off if he had the chance.”

She smiled big and sang a soft, “Yay.”

“Aw, come on. It wasn’t all that bad between you and me.” The Coltons and the Gages of Red Ridge traditionally didn’t get along well. Years of feuding had caused a rift, but Lucas had seen that change ever since Demi had been set up as the Groom Killer.

Her animation faded. “Yes it was. You always had to be the dominant top dog.”

“You’re freelance. I’m a bona fide Red Ridge PD K-9 cop.”

The vixen poked out her pretty head. Stormy dyed eyebrows arrowed down. He hated how he loved that. Part of the reason they’d remained enemies for so long was he could never stop teasing her. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop now.

“Bounty hunter,” she shot back.

“Deputized bounty hunter.” He winked.

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you have to do that?”

He chuckled. “Only with you.”

She eyed him. “You do it on purpose?”

He chuckled deeper. “I wouldn’t say on purpose. I can’t help it.”

Her head tilted sideways a little. “You like yanking my chain.”

“Let’s just say I’m one of the few people who think your quick temper is adorable.”

“Adorable.”

He held back another chuckle. “Yes.”

“Why do you think it’s adorable? Adorable is not how I would describe myself.”

He agreed. He would describe her as many things. Smart. Tenacious. tough. “It’s adorable because you never realize I’m teasing you. You’re innocent and then...not.”

She said nothing. Someday maybe she’d relax enough to let the little things fall off her shoulders. If she ever did, he would want to be the first man to date her that way.

“I also think you’re defensive because of who your father is, Demi.”

“What? You Gages hate all things Colton, no matter what side of the tracks we live on.”

The snowstorm wasn’t easing up anytime soon. They had plenty of time to debate.

“I know you’re close with your brothers and sister, but what happened with your dad?”

“He’s my dad.”

“Yeah, but...”

“He’s Rusty Colton, the low-down bar owner? Nothing compared to the other Coltons in town? Be careful.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t mean to what?”

Dealing with her temper had always been a chess game. He’d always had to plan his next move. But now, suddenly, this wasn’t a game. Demi’s temper had more depth than he’d ever realized. She could be touched off rather easily, but she never got abusive. Granted, she could tone down her intensity a notch or two, but she stood on solid ground. He’d actually always sensed that about her, and enjoyed how easily he could set her off.

“Why do you want to know about my dad? All you’re here to do is take me in to be arrested. There might be a new prime suspect, but that doesn’t mean I’m off the hook.”

He gave up trying to convince her he wasn’t here to take her in. Instead, he decided to be blunt. “We’re going to be together in this storm for a while. Why not make the best of it? I’m curious, that’s all. I’ve wanted to ask you about your dad for a long time.”

Her controlled attack mode softened. She took a moment to answer. “My father doesn’t care about anyone other than himself.” She averted her eyes toward the Christmas tree. “The only good thing he ever did was produce me and my half brothers and my half sister, Quinn. He’s my father and we spend time together, but it doesn’t feel genuine to me.”

He felt her conflict about being raised by a man like Rusty or fathered by him. Her mother had left him, or so Lucas had heard.

“You’re not estranged?”

“No.” Her slow response conveyed her confusion.

She had some kind of relationship with her father, albeit strained. “What about your mother?” He knew something about her history but not personal details.

“You probably already know all of us have different mothers. Mine died just a few years ago.”

Lucas said nothing. Her line of Coltons wasn’t the high end compared to those others in town. He hadn’t paid much attention to that gossip, but Rusty’s was the rough branch of the clan, their spawn not accepted by the wealthier Coltons. Bad reputation due to hard living.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He’d always thought Demi needed no approval from anyone. Her strength surpassed anything he’d heard about her father.

Standing, he strode to the window next to the tree, parting the drapes as though to survey for security, when in fact he needed the time to recover. Rusty tainted her reputation with those who didn’t look deeper. Her brothers had proven themselves. Her sister, too. Did Demi feel she hadn’t yet?

“I didn’t know about your mother.” He turned to look back at her.

She lowered her eyes, a telltale sign of the loss, the memory of her mother still painful.

“What was she like?”

Her eyes lifted. “Someone who should have never married Rusty.”

“I’m guessing the mothers of all your siblings realize that.”

She met his eyes and he turned from the window to keep up the contact.

“My father doesn’t do much to change our reputations, but he is my father. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“If you could, would you want to?”

“No. What would be the point?”

He didn’t respond.

She stretched her legs and rested her feet on the ottoman. “My mother was naïve, but not ignorant. She preferred to look at everyone in the best light. She saw good in everyone. Even Rusty.”

He gave her time to go on.

“Rusty’s bad qualities outweighed his good, but she only cared about the good. I suppose that’s why she married him. I can forgive her because she was so full of love and because she finally took me and left. We had a good life without Rusty. We were close. I lived with her up until she died. I had just finished college.” She rested her chin on her knee and drifted off in thought.

“I’m sorry. That must have been hard on you.”

She shrugged, as though opting for bravery instead of acknowledging painful memories. “I had Brayden.”

He knew she was closest to Brayden. “How did she die?”

“Car accident.” She slid her feet off the ottoman and leaned on her elbows.

“I’m sorry.”

She sat up and looked at him. “Stop saying that.”

That he was sorry? He did feel sorry for her.

“You Coltons never cared much for any Gages. You’re only putting up this fantastic front to lure me back to Red Ridge.”

“You’ve always been interested in the family feud that’s been raging for a century. I never paid it much attention. And I won’t try to keep telling you I’m not here to take you in.”

“The only reason I found the feud so interesting is there was plenty of feuding going on in my family. None of my father’s other wives liked my mother. I barely saw my half brothers or half sister. I never understood what the feud was about. My family is about as broken as any can get. We were disliked because we have a low reputation. I guess I thought that funny...or silly.”

She confirmed his notion that she needed no one’s approval.

“How did you end up so close to Brayden, then?” he asked.

“I would run into him on occasion. We started talking and discovered we had a lot in common. We both love the woods and mountains. We liked the same kind of literature and food. And...” She stared at the fireplace with a soft smile forming. “We just...talk a lot. It’s easy to be with him.”

“Love of woods and mountains.” No wonder Brayden had become a search-and-rescue specialist. He hadn’t known until now why Demi had become a bounty hunter. He supposed it had something to do with that, but more so a desire to catch criminals, and for Demi, that included satisfying her outlaw spirit.

“I never thought you were a roughneck just because your dad is.” Outlaw, yes, but she had soft spots he doubted even she realized she possessed.

“But you think I killed Bo.”

“Did,” he corrected her. “I know you’re innocent.”

She humphed.

Another gust pelted snow against the windows and outer walls. The storm showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. Lucas didn’t mind. What he did mind was his reason for not minding. Being stranded alone with Demi filled him with excitement. Maybe more than redemption had drawn him here. Maybe Demi herself had. Her innocence might have had a bigger effect on him than he realized.