Her Rancher Bodyguard (4 page)

He held her suitcase and handed her the smaller overnight bag that accompanied it. “Let's get you settled.”

“Don't you live here?”

He shook his head. “No. I bought a little RV. It's hooked up to power over by the barn.”

“But you're going to be close by, right?” She felt as if he was suddenly drifting out of reach. She took a deep breath. He was practically a stranger. Not her lifeline.

“I'll be around more than you can stand. But I prefer my own space. I'm not much for company and big crowds. Believe me, you're going to have your share of people. You'll want solitude when you're done with this month on the Wilder Ranch.”

“Month?”

He shrugged it off. “We aren't sending you out on your own until we know who is behind the threats and the attack. Maybe it wasn't the same guy.”

“I kind of think it is.”

She followed him up the steps and as they got to the front door, it opened. Standing on the other side of the screen door was a woman past middle age. Her dark hair was short and framed a classically beautiful face.

“You must be Kayla,” the woman said, an almost imperceptible Hispanic accent, giving the words a soft lilt. “I'm Maria Wilder.”

“Mrs. Wilder, thank you for letting me stay with you.”

Boone's mother laughed. “Don't thank me yet. You haven't met everyone.”

Boone opened the door and motioned Kayla inside. She glanced back, worried he wouldn't go in with her. But he did. The lifeline was intact.

“I'm putting you upstairs in Boone's old room. Janie is just down the hall from you with Essie and Allie. Michaela is across the hall. Jase and Lucas are on the other side of her. We're downstairs if you need anything.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm so sorry for putting you out this way,” she started to explain.

Maria Wilder waved a hand. “Don't be silly. We don't mind.”

She led Kayla up the stairs to a bedroom that was small but bright and airy. A quilt covered the twin bed. A rocking chair nearby had another quilt folded over the arm. Braided rugs in soft spring colors were scattered on the wood floor.

“It isn't much but it's clean. And most of Boone's smelly past has been evicted. Shoes, clothes, high school uniforms that got shoved in corners and forgotten.” Maria Wilder turned down the blanket on the bed.

“It's perfect.”

Boone's mother gave her a quick hug. “Are you hungry?”

“Prepare to be fattened up, Stanford.”

His mother swatted at his arm. “Behave. No one likes to go to bed hungry. And young ladies don't like to be told they need to be ‘fattened up.'”

“I'm fine, but thank you. We grabbed fast food on our way.”

Maria made a face. “Bah. Fast food isn't real food.”

“Really, I'm fine. But thank you. I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep.”

Maria glanced at her watch. “You should go to bed now. Morning comes early around here.”

Kayla covered a yawn. She agreed, it was bedtime. She looked at Boone, who was already heading for the door. The limp she'd noticed previously was more pronounced tonight.

“Get some sleep and try not to worry.” He stopped just short of exiting.

She nodded. Of course she wouldn't worry. She was in a strange home with people she didn't know. And someone she didn't know wanted to harm her. What did she have to worry about?

“Stanford?”

She met the dark gaze of her protector.

He smiled that easy smile of his. “Don't worry.”

Of course.

“If you need anything,” Maria said, “don't hesitate, just ask.”

They left and she was alone. What she truly needed, they couldn't give her. She didn't even know how to put a name on the empty spaces in her heart. For several years she'd filled those spaces up with anger, with rebellion and a lifestyle that had worn her out physically and emotionally.

She always wondered about the people who seemed emotionally whole and happy. How did they do it, find that happiness?

Alone she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands splayed on the cottony softness of the quilt. On the stand next to the bed was a Bible. It was small, leather bound and worn. Her gaze wandered from that small book to the needlepoint picture on the wall with a Bible verse she'd heard most of her life. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The words were lovely and encouraging. But her heart still felt empty.

* * *

“She's a lovely girl,” Boone's mom said as she followed him out to his truck. He opened the door of the old Ford and leaned against it.

“Mom, go ahead and say what you want to say. I need to get home and get some sleep.”

“You need to get off your feet.”

“Yeah, that, too.” He took a seat behind the wheel of the truck, his hand on the key.

“Just be careful. She's pretty and lonely.”

And there it was. He let out a long sigh. His mom knew him better than anyone. She also had a hard time remembering that her kids were growing up. “No need to worry. I'm going to do my job and then return her to her family.”

“She doesn't have a family, not really.”

He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. “Now I know where I get the fixer complex. From you. You're worried about me getting too involved.” He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “But you know that you're just as bad.”

She laughed. “I won't deny that. I look at this girl, and I see that she's lonely and hurting and could easily fall in love with her rescuer.”

“I've been hired to do a job. I'll make sure all she feels for me is annoyance.”

His mother patted his cheek and smiled. “You're so handsome, my son. And so clueless.”

“Stop.” He leaned and gave her a hug. “I'll see you in the morning.”

He headed down the driveway to the RV. It always felt good to come home, even to his thirty-foot camper. The place was quiet. It had a front deck he'd built earlier in the spring. His dog was curled up on a patio chair, waiting for him. Yeah, home sweet home.

He limped up the steps and sat down on the chair next to the dog, propping his feet up on the footstool. Man, it felt good to stretch. He reached, rubbing the calf muscle of his right leg. The pain eased.

He let out a deep breath and relaxed again.

The collie that had been sleeping half crawled into his lap, resting her head on his leg. He brushed a hand down her neck. “Good girl.”

She pushed at his hand with her nose.

“You're right, time to go inside.”

He eased to his feet and headed inside. The door wasn't locked. It never was. He flipped on a light and headed for the kitchen. Halfway across the small living area, he stopped and took a step back.

“What in the world are you doing in my house?” he yelled at the man sprawled on his couch.

“Sleeping,” Daron McKay grumbled. “And I could sleep a lot better without all the yelling. Did you get her settled?”

Daron tossed off the afghan and brushed a hand over his face as he sat up. Boone limped across the room and settled into the recliner.

“Yeah, my mom has her. And is already worried about feeding her. And keeping her safe from me. Or maybe me safe from her.”

Daron perked up at that. “Your mom is a smart woman. We should hire her.”

Boone tossed a pillow, hitting Daron in the head. “Go away.”

“You're the one who told me the place is always unlocked.”

“I didn't mean for you to move in here. You have a place of your own just down the road. A big place. Paid for by your dear old dad.”

“It's too big and empty.” Daron shrugged and plopped back down on the couch. “I'll pay for the food I eat and the inconvenience.”

“I like to be alone.”

“I know. It's easier to pace all night if there's no one watching.”

They both did a lot of pacing. For different reasons. He gave his business partner a long look and wondered just how bad Daron's nights were. Since they usually stayed out of each other's heads, Boone could only guess. And since they dealt with their shared grief, their shared memories of Afghanistan, by being men and not dealing with it, he wasn't about to get all emotional now.

“My pacing is none of your business, McKay. We're business partners, not the Texas version of the
Odd Couple
.”

Daron had stretched back out on the sofa and pulled the afghan up to his neck. “You can argue all you want, but you know you like my company. And if we're the
Odd Couple
, I'm the clean freak and you're the messy one. How is our client?”

“You're the slob. And she's scared. Even if she pretends she isn't. And probably lonely. I don't know.” Boone stretched his legs, relieving the knots in his muscles. “There's something she isn't telling us.”

“Charm it out of her.”

“You're the charming one in this partnership. I'm all business. Luce is, well, Luce.”

“She's only happy with a gun in her hand,” Daron quipped.

It wasn't really the truth, but they liked to tease her.

“Yeah. So you charm Miss Stanford. I'll keep her safe.”

“Nah,” Daron said. “I think I'll let you try charming for once. I'm out on this one. She's a handful and I'm not patient.”

“I was going to make a sandwich.” Boone pushed himself out of his chair. “Want one?”

“I ate all of your lunch meat. Sorry.”

“I'm changing my locks.” Boone headed for the kitchen, where he rummaged through the cabinets, not finding much to choose from. He grabbed a can of pasta and decided to eat it cold, out of the can.

Daron joined him in the kitchen, his face haggard, his dark blond hair going in all directions and his shirt untucked. For the supposed neat one, he was a mess. Boone accepted that it was going to be a long night. He could feel it in his bones. Literally. He could feel it in the places where skin and muscle had been ripped, in the bones that had been broken. He could feel it in his mind. And that was the worst.

For the first time he was thankful for the distraction of Kayla Stanford. And even for Daron. If he had something to focus on, he'd concentrate less on the pain, on the memories.

But Kayla Stanford proved to be the wrong place to direct his thoughts. Because when he thought about her, what came to mind was the haunted expression she tried to cover up with a smile. The way her scent, something oriental and complex, lingered in the cab of his truck. He sniffed the sleeve of his shirt, because he could still smell her perfume.

Daron gave him a long look, eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth hiked up. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I smelled something. Probably you.” He made a show of smelling the canned pasta. “Maybe it's this?”

“You're losing it.” Daron grabbed Boone's sleeve and inhaled. “And you smell like expensive perfume. Lucy doesn't wear perfume.”

Boone couldn't help it, he took another whiff. When he did, his eyes closed of their own volition. He thought he would picture her teasing smile. Instead, he pictured the woman sitting in his truck trying to hide the tears that slid down her cheeks.

Yeah, it was going to be a long night. He had her scent clinging to his shirt and the memory of her tears. The two combined equaled disaster as far as he was concerned.

Chapter Four

S
omeone screamed and Kayla shot straight out of the bed, her heart racing and her legs shaking as she stood in the middle of the unfamiliar room. White curtains covered a window that revealed a view of fields that stretched to the horizon and the distant hills of Texas Hill Country. A cat was curled up at the foot of her bed. A cat?

She looked at the calico feline, white with black and orange patches, and wondered how it had gotten in here. The cat stretched and blinked, fixing green eyes on her, as if she were the interloper.

The scream echoed through the house a second time and she realized it was more of a shriek. Someone else shouted, then a door slammed. Obviously the entire family was up. And if she hadn't been mistaken last night when Mrs. Wilder gave the list of names and locations of her children, there were several of them.

Although she was tempted to hide away in her room, Kayla dressed and brushed her hair. Before walking out the door of her borrowed bedroom, she glanced back at the cat.

“Don't you have mice to chase?”

The feline yawned, stretched and closed her eyes.

“I don't like cats,” she said out loud. The cat didn't seem to care.

“I don't like them much myself. Did the screaming banshees downstairs wake you up?”

She spun to face a younger man, maybe in his early twenties. He had dark curly hair cut close to his head, snapping brown eyes, dimples and a big smile.

“I'm Jase.” He held out a hand. “I'm the middle brother and also the smart one. No offense to your bodyguard.”

She still hadn't spoken. He took her by surprise, with his easy banter and open smile. A few months ago she would have flirted. But she had given it up along with everything else. For the past few months her goal had been a less complicated life.

This did not fit those plans.

“I would say ‘cat got your tongue.'” He glanced past her to the cat in her room. “But that's pretty cliché.”

“Um, I'm just...” She couldn't speak.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted.

“The cat's name is Sheba. As in queen of. She lives up to it. And she wouldn't chase a mouse if it crawled across her paws. Let me walk you downstairs. There's safety in numbers. And there's probably some breakfast in the kitchen. We usually eat after we've fed the livestock.”

“You've already fed the livestock? What time is it?”

He laughed. “Just after seven. And yes, we've fed, pulled a calf and gathered eggs.”

“Pulled a calf where?”

He gave her a sideways glance and grinned. “Pulled meaning delivered. The calf wasn't coming out on his own so we helped the mama with the delivery. There's nothing like starting your morning with a new life. Which I guess is why I'm premed.”

While they'd been talking he'd led her downstairs and through the house to the big country kitchen, where it seemed half the county had congregated for breakfast.

Boone's mom, Maria, was standing at the stove. Two young women who looked identical were setting the table. Another sister, a little older than them, was at the sink, auburn hair falling down to veil one side of her face. A toddler on pudgy legs, her curly blond hair in pigtails, was playing with bowls and wooden spoons.

“Welcome to our zoo,” Jase Wilder said with a big smile that included everyone in the room. “The twinkies over there are Esmerelda and Alejandra. Better known to all as Essie and Allie, named after our grandmothers. They're not as identical as they like to pretend. In the kitchen is Mama Maria, whom you met last night. Michaela and her daughter, Molly. And my lovely sister Janie.”

Janie with the auburn hair shot him a look and said nothing. Jase smiled back and answered, “Yeah, I know, Lucas is your favorite.”

“Kayla, I hope we didn't wake you.” Maria Wilder pointed at her twin daughters. “Those two can't keep quiet for anything.”

The sister Janie half smiled her direction. “They're excited because you're staying here. And you know all about fashion. They want to enter a twin pageant in San Antonio.”

“Don't let them push you around,” Michaela warned with a half tilt of her mouth. She appeared to be in her midtwenties and as she spoke she reached to pick up her little girl. “If you're going to survive, you have to stand your ground and become great friends with the word
no
.”

Kayla would have answered but the conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door closing and voices raised in discussion, and then Boone along with a younger man in his late teens, and possibly their father, entered the kitchen.

The older Wilder, gray haired and thin, pushed a walker. His steps were slow and steady. He glanced up at her and grinned. She saw the resemblance between him and his eldest son.

“I'm sorry I wasn't up to meet you last night,” Jesse Wilder said as he made his way to the table. “But it looks as if you're surviving. It takes some backbone and sometimes selective hearing where this bunch is involved.”

Boone, wearing dirt-stained jeans and a button-up shirt, winked as he headed for the kitchen sink. “If it takes backbone, I think she'll survive Clan Wilder with no problems.”

She'd been surviving for a long time. It just hadn't always looked like it to the outside world.

“The mama cow didn't make it.” Boone rinsed his hands, then splashed his face. Blindly he reached around, searching for a towel.

Kayla found one and pushed it into his hands. He dried his face and draped the towel over a cabinet door.

Jase's smile had slipped away. “I thought we had her up?”

“Yeah, I thought she was okay. About thirty minutes ago she went down and we couldn't get her back up.”

“She was our best cow,” Mr. Wilder said. He was pale, she noticed, and his hands trembled as reached for the cup of coffee Maria set down in front of him. He hooked his free arm around his wife.

“We'll make do, Jesse. We always have.” She kissed the top of his head. “And I made a big breakfast.”

“Because eating makes everything better,” Essie, dark haired with flashing green eyes, quipped as she brought a plate of bacon to the table. “And coffee. That's the icing on the cake of life.”

And they were all talking again, laughing and sharing smiles. Kayla stood to one side, watching, comparing this tumult with her family. The Stanfords, not the Martins. Her father's family was quiet, disciplined and perfect. Always perfect. She had never fit.

The Martins were more like this family. More open. More accepting. They relied on their faith and openly shared it with others. But they never pushed. She liked that about them.

She liked them. And yet she didn't feel as if she belonged. She wasn't a Martin. She wasn't a Stanford. She was the extra, the one who didn't fit.

Her gaze slid to Boone. He was still standing in the kitchen, his arm around the sister named Janie. Kayla felt a tightness in her own throat as she watched brother and sister. He spoke quietly. Janie responded. And then a hand moved and she brushed back that curtain of auburn hair, revealing a tight, puckered scar that ran from her cheek down her neck.

Someone stepped close to Kayla, and an arm brushed hers. “Don't stare. If you want a friend, she's the best, but she doesn't like pity.”

“What happened?” Kayla asked.

“She was burned in an accident years ago.” Jase shrugged as if what he said was common knowledge and not heartbreaking.

Conversation ended as the family all came to the table. Boone was suddenly at Kayla's side. He pointed to a chair and then he took the one next to it, his arm brushing hers. Before she could think, he had her hand in his. Michaela, next to her, took her other hand. The family bowed their heads in unison and Jesse Wilder prayed, thanking God for their food, for their blessings, for another day to serve Him.

After they all said amen, conversation erupted again. Kayla accepted a piece of bacon. Boone forked a pancake onto her plate, ignoring her protests that she really didn't eat breakfast. But he didn't speak to her. He laughed at a story his brother Lucas told. He shook his head at the twins when they told him they were going to try team roping.

There was much laughter and teasing as the family consumed the large breakfast. Kayla ate, not even realizing that she'd cleaned her plate. She felt as if she were in a foreign world here. Austin, just about an hour away, seemed as though it might as well be on a different planet.

When she'd discovered she had a bodyguard, she hadn't expected this. He should be in the background, quietly observing. Her father was a lawyer and a politician; she'd seen bodyguards and knew how they did their jobs. And yet here she sat with this family, her bodyguard talking of cattle and fixing fence as his sisters tried to cajole him into taking them to look at a pair of horses owned by Kayla's brother Jake Martin.

A hand settled on her back. She glanced at the man next to her, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth quirked, revealing a dimple in his left cheek.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but a heavy knock on the front door interrupted. He pushed away from the table and gave them all an apologetic look.

“I think I'll get that.” His gaze landed on Kayla. “You stay right where you are until I say otherwise.”

“They wouldn't come here,” she said. She'd meant to sound strong. Instead, it came out like a question.

“We don't know what
they
would or wouldn't do, because we don't know who
they
are. Stay.” He walked away, Jase getting up and going after him.

Kayla avoided looking at the people who remained at the table. Conversation had of course ended. She knew they were looking at her. She knew that she had invaded their life.

And she knew that her bodyguard might seem like a relaxed cowboy, but he wasn't. He was the man standing between her and the unknown.

* * *

Boone stepped to the window before going to the front door. He moved the curtain and peeked out. Jase was behind him, of course. Little brothers could never mind their own business.

“I didn't ask for backup,” Boone said as he let the curtain drop back into place.

“No, you didn't. But we're brothers.”

“It's just Jake. He must have found out she's here.”

Jase had the nerve to turn tail and run. “Have fun with that. I think it's my turn to do dishes.”

“Dishes, my—” he watched his brother head down the hall “—foot.”

He opened the door to Jake Martin. He didn't remember Jake being quite so tall, or so angry. Yeah, it made him pity Remington Jenkins more than ever. Remington had fallen hard for Samantha Martin ten years ago when the two had been teens. Jake had run him out of town.

Boone wasn't a seventeen-year-old kid, and he had a job that included keeping Kayla Stanford safe. So when faced with Jake's glowering look, he just smiled and leaned against the door as if all was well. Boone had learned long ago that silence always proved successful in getting the other person to talk.

“I want to know why my sister is here and not at our place, Wilder. I want to know why we weren't informed that she might be in danger.”

Boone stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. Jake stepped out of his way. When Boone headed down the stairs and toward the barn, Jake followed.

“Is there a reason you won't answer me?” Jake continued as Boone opened the barn door.

“Because I don't answer to you. I answer to Kayla and her father.” He felt bad about that, but he wouldn't break confidentiality clauses. “I
would
like to know how you found out she was here.”

“She texted Samantha.”

Boone spun around to face the other man, forgetting for a second that his balance wasn't always the best. He reached for the wall and steadied himself. “She did what?”

Jake gave him a tight smile. “What, you didn't know? She's not going to make this easy for you. And I don't appreciate not being kept in the loop.”

“Then, we'll sit down together, the three of us, and she can tell you what you want to know. If she wants you to be told, that is. But I can't keep her safe if she's texting everyone in the state.”

A throat cleared and he sighed. Kayla was standing in the doorway, early-morning sunlight streaming behind her, leaving her face in shadows.

“I'm not a child. You can do your job, Boone, but you're not going to keep me from my family.”

Frustrated
didn't begin to describe how he felt at that moment. “I wouldn't think of keeping you from your family. I would like to keep you safe. And I need honesty and a little cooperation from you to do that.”

“Honesty?” She narrowed those magnificent blue eyes at him. “You want honesty? I can do honesty. I honestly want to live my own life. I know I've messed up. I know they think they have something they can use against my dad. But I'd like for everyone to leave me alone. I was doing fine. I was getting my life together. I was finding pieces of myself I left behind. I was doing it. Alone. And I don't need...” She sobbed, the sound catching in her throat, and her eyes widened.

Jake shook his head. “Part of your problem, Kayla, is that you don't have to be alone. In any of this.”

“Not right now, Jake.” Boone knew when a woman was about to fall apart. Jake had never been soft or subtle. “Why don't you head home and we'll call you.”

Boone left the older man standing there as he took Kayla by the hand and led her from the barn. She gripped his hand hard, clenching her fingers around his. He didn't really have a plan; he just knew if she was going to fall apart, the barn wasn't the place to do it. She didn't need to be where anyone could walk in. The last thing she needed was a lecture about family from an older brother who had just showed up in her life last year.