A Montana Cowboy (19 page)

He didn't try to detain her. Trace could tell she was tired. Hopefully she'd fall right to sleep and not brood over her condition.

Chapter Ten

The next afternoon Cassie lay on the couch watching TV. She'd worn a robe over her nightgown because she was more comfortable like that at this stage in her pregnancy. Dusty suddenly sprang from the floor where he'd been lying in front of her and flew out of the living room, barking so loudly it startled her. She sat up as carefully as she could.

When he came back, he headed straight for the front door and wouldn't stop barking.

“What is it, Dusty?” For the dog to go investigate meant someone had been walking around the outside of the house. Trace had driven over to Connor's and said he'd be right back. Dusty would never react like that if it were Trace returning in the truck. She would have heard the engine.

The dog darted from the door to the front window. His front paws rested on the window sill. His bark had turned into a primitive growl, his tail high in the air. It caused the hairs to lift on the back of her neck. She shut off the TV with the remote.

Someone had been prowling around that Dusty didn't recognize. Cassie hadn't heard the bell or a knock. Whoever it was had started rapping on the big window, obviously enjoying baiting the dog. She got to her swollen feet.

When she padded over to the window to look out, she got the fright of her life. A man stood there on the front porch in front of the window, pressing his face against the glass. Though his features were distorted, she'd know him anywhere.

Ned.

Her body started trembling with fear and wouldn't stop. Any meds he'd been on either weren't working, or he hadn't taken them. His manic side was in full evidence. She moved away from the window and flattened her back against the wall where he could no longer see her. Dusty stayed on point, growling with menace.

Fear caused her body to break out in a cold sweat.

Come home, Trace. Please, God.

“I already saw you through the window, Cassie. Don't you know you can't hide from me?” he taunted. “Especially when you're fat as a French hen with that bastard's baby.”

Knowing he was out there made her physically ill. “What are you doing here?” she called to him, praying not to show how terrified she was. Her cell phone was on the end table, a couple of yards away. If she lunged for it, he would see her.

“That's a fine way to speak to your brother. Not even a hello after all this time?”

“Go away, Ned. You're not welcome here.”

“It's no sin to come and see my sister, is it?” Suddenly he was trying to open the front door. He kept it up, trying to force his way in with the strength of his body. Snarling, Dusty dashed to the door and barked his head off. But neither of them would be a match for her brother, who was like an animal gone berserk. There was no reasoning with him.

She hurried over to the table and grabbed the phone to call Trace. Her fingers shook, making it difficult to press the digit.
Answer it!
But it went to his voice mail.

“Help, Trace—Ned's here! He's trying to break in!”

Ned was at the window again and could see her. “I know what you're doing, little sister. But there's no Logan to help you now. I should have gotten rid of him before you disgraced our family with his kid.”

So he
had
killed Logan!

“Now it's time to get rid of you.”

Her brother was in a full rage. Cassie had the sure knowledge that he was going to kill her, too. Forgetting she was pregnant, she ran over to the fireplace. She had to stretch to take the rifle from the rack. Trace didn't keep it loaded. The ammunition was in the drawer of the credenza, but Ned didn't know that. It could buy her some time until Trace got here.

The dog kept up his blood-curdling growl until she heard glass shatter, then a yelp. Ned had used the end of a shotgun to break the pane.

“Dusty!”

Her brother pushed out the rest of the glass before climbing inside the living room. He stepped over the dog who lay moaning in pain and lifted the shotgun to his shoulder. Out of self-preservation she dropped to the floor with Trace's rifle and turned on her side away from him.

Not my baby. Not my baby.

She shuddered in horror as Ned walked around so he was facing her with those soulless eyes glittering down at her. “You have no idea how many years I've wanted to do this.” He pointed the shotgun straight at her. “The perfect sister who always did everything right. The popular one. But you made a big mistake when you married Logan.”

Somehow she found the strength to send the rifle hurtling against his knee caps.

He let out a groan. “Damn if you aren't a regular little hellcat. Let's see if you like the way
this
feels.” Turning the butt end of the shotgun around, he moved toward her with only one intention. To smash her and her unborn baby to pulp. She got up from the floor and ran screaming Trace's name at the top of her lungs.

“I'm here!” came the beloved voice.

Trace had come in through the front door. He swept her into his arms and rocked her close to him. “You're safe now, sweetheart.”

She could hear her cousins' voices mingled with Ned's threats in the background, but nothing mattered because Trace had come for her. “I'm getting you to the hospital right now.” He carried her out of the house to his Explorer parked in front.

“Thank God you came when you did,” she said after he'd settled her in the front seat. “I think I've hurt the baby.”

“You're going to be fine. Dr. Raynard is meeting us there.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Ned admitted he killed Logan.”

“He's not ever going to hurt anyone again. The camera videotape will have caught him climbing the porch steps with the shotgun. It will provide the positive proof Zane has been looking for. He and your cousins are taking care of Ned right now.”

She shook her head. “To think my only brother is so mentally ill. I'm having a hard time conceiving it. I wonder what my parents are going to think now,” she half moaned.

“Cassie—your mother called Connor and told him Ned sneaked out of the house. He's been refusing to take his medication. Your dad went to look for him. She was worried sick for you and begged everyone to find Ned and stop him before he reached you.”

“Mother did that?”

“Yes. We have her to thank that we got to my ranch in time to save you.”

“I—I can't believe it.”

“Believe it, Cassie. She loves you and is devastated by what has been going on all these years. Now that Ned is going to be taken care of, she can concentrate on loving and helping you.”

“I want that more than anything.” She wiped her eyes. “What about Dusty? I'm afraid the glass really hurt him.”

“He'll be all right after Dad takes a look at him. Hang on, Cassie. We're almost there.”

“Because it's you, I'll hang on for as long as it takes.”

She felt him grasp her hand and hold it the rest of the way.

* * *

T
WENTY
-
FOUR
HOURS
LATER
the nurse wheeled Cassie down the hall to the NICU. Trace's tall, hard-muscled physique was waiting inside the unit. He'd been gowned, gloved and masked. So much love poured out of her, there were no words to describe how she felt about him at this point.

Dr. Raynard had done a Cesarean after she'd reached the hospital. Cassie's baby weighed in at four pounds, elating her and the doctor. The pediatrician proclaimed her in excellent health considering her early arrival.

Cassie had started to pump her breast milk. They fed it to the baby through a tube in her mouth. The incubator kept her warm. Both Trace and Cassie could reach in the holes to hold the baby's little fingers and talk to her.

Beneath his black hair and brows, Trace's eyes were a brilliant blue above the face mask he wore. “She's so tiny and perfect. With her fine blond hair, she looks a lot like you, Cassie.”

“I just can't believe she's here,” she said through the mask. “It's over. Thanks to you, I have her and my life.” Her voice shook. “I owe you everything, Trace.”

“Everyone pitched in. It was a team effort. Even Dusty tried to help.”

“How is he?”

“Dad had to put a couple of stitches in his left ear. He's doing well, but is going to stay with my father and Ellen for a while.”

“The poor little darling. You can't believe how fierce he was when he saw Ned out on the porch. He's really a great watchdog.” After a pause she said, “So are you.” Emotion had caught up to her. “Where did you come from, Trace Rafferty? How was I ever so blessed? You've had to wait on me day and night for months and have put up with me when I was grumpy and out of sorts. You have the temperament of a saint.”

“Really? Then it's good you didn't hear me when I reamed out Lamont Walker.”

“He was awful.”

“I didn't like him on sight. But let's not talk about unpleasant things anymore. How soon does the doctor think you can take her home?”

“Maybe two weeks. She has to be able to suck on a bottle. They're watching her sleep habits and checking for infections.”

“How soon can
you
come home?”

Cassie didn't have a home yet. She was living in Trace's home out of the goodness of his generous heart. “I think tomorrow after the doctor does his rounds, if he thinks I'm recovered enough. But I'll only be there to sleep before I go back to the hospital and be with the baby.”

“We'll do it together.”

Though music to her ears, he had other obligations. Now he could start putting his plans for the ranch into action. But she refrained from reminding him. Her momnesia had taken over and she couldn't think about anything but this miracle that had happened.

Ten days later Trace brought her and the baby home. When they entered the nursery, she saw a new rocking chair in the corner the same color as the crib. “Oh, Trace—I love it!”

“This is my welcome home present to you. Now you'll be comfortable feeding her.”

He'd turned the bedroom into a nursery for her precious daughter who was putting on a little weight every day. As Trace helped her put the sleeping baby in the crib and she realized there was nothing more to fear from Ned, Cassie felt euphoric. Forget that the Cesarean had caused her any discomfort and made her a little slower on her feet, she couldn't complain about anything.

Cassie looked at him. “You've been here from the beginning. I owe you my life, Trace.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you. When I came home from Italy, my depression was so bad at the time, I knew Nicci and I wouldn't be able to work things out. I figured I'd never have the experience of being a husband and parent. But you let me be a part of yours. Whether right or wrong, that sonogram picture did something to me.”

“It felt natural to show it to you,” she admitted.

“The times you let me feel the baby moving brought me alive again. At the hospital you asked the doctor if I could come in to watch the procedure.”

“You'd been with me every step of the way. I couldn't imagine you not being a part of her birth.”

“It felt like you were pregnant with my child. When I saw the baby lifted out of you and heard your cry of joy, it touched something in my soul.”

“Mine, too.” Her fingers gripped the crib railing. “I want to show you something. If you'd go to my bedroom and look in the closet, the little wooden toy chest is there. Would you bring it in here?”

Trace had wondered where it had been all this time. He couldn't imagine why she'd put it in there. Though her request seemed odd, he didn't question it. “I'll be right back.”

He hurried down the hall to her bedroom and opened the closet door. Mystified, he found it at the back hiding behind some clothes. When he pulled it out, he saw that she'd transformed it with her unique artwork. She must have painted it whenever he left the house to do errands.

But when he brought it out of the closet, he stopped because he saw the name she'd painted on the center of the lid.

Tracey
.

He needed a minute to get himself under control before he carried it to the nursery. She looked up at him with a hint of anxiety. “Do you like her name?”

Trace was overcome. “I don't know what to say.” His voice sounded husky to his own ears.

“I painted it right after you gave it to me. In my heart she's been Tracey for a long time.”

Her eyes glistened. “It's to honor the most wonderful man I know. I've known quite a few, but your name is at the top of that remarkable list. When my daughter is old enough, I'm going to tell her how I came to give it to her.”

He put the toy box down on the floor and pulled something from his pocket. “Come here.” He drew her over to the rocking chair, but he sat down first before pulling her onto his lap. “Cassie?” His breath was warm against her neck.

By now she was trembling like crazy. “Yes?”

“I have something for you. Hold up your left hand.”

Could this really be happening?

“I've waited a long time to do this.” He reached around and pushed a diamond set in gold on her ring finger. “You're going to marry me, right? You
have
to. I'm madly in love with you and I want to adopt Tracey. My two Montana cowgirls. If you don't tell me what I want to hear, I won't be able to handle it.”

She didn't answer him right away. He shouldn't have done it yet, but he hadn't been able to hold back.

“Cassie?” he prodded her. “Say something—”

Hearing his uncertainty, she got up from his lap and turned around, placing her hands on the arms of the chair. Her eyes had ignited with little green fires. “After we're married, I'll have the birth certificate amended to read Tracey Dorney
Rafferty
.
How does that sound?”