Protecting Their Child (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“We’re almost there. Just hold on.” Cord steered the old Ford past the city limits sign, very familiar with the route to the county hospital.

“She’s only five months, Cord. She can’t be born this early. What if—”

“No ‘what ifs.’ They’ll give you something. Contractions will stop. You’ll be fine. Just try to relax. Maybe that will help.” He swerved back into his lane, glad no one else was on the road to Marfa during a snowstorm in the middle of the night. “Go ahead, say it.”

“The contractions are about fifteen minutes apart. You’re right, I just need to relax. We’ll be there soon enough if you can stay on the road.” She laughed, smiling at him in the rearview mirror. “But it is hard to relax thinking we’ll be headed into the next gully.”

He slowed and it hit him how much pain and worry he’d caused her during their time together. It would be a miracle if she ever forgave him.

“Kate, I...I’m sorry. Whatever happens, this has all been my fault and I’m sorry.”

She sighed and wrinkled her forehead for a serious look. “For the record, I blame Jorje Serna, one hundred percent. Not you. I’ve never blamed you.”

He blamed himself and would continue to blame himself.

The last time he’d come through the E.R. doors, he’d been on a gurney, fading in and out of consciousness. At least this time he ran inside after slamming the car into Park, blocking access to the automatic doors, and began looking for familiar faces. Familiar or not, he latched on to the first person in scrubs he found and started dragging them to the door.

“Kate’s in the car, five months’ pregnant, contractions approximately fifteen minutes apart. The last one was about seven minutes ago.”

The nurse or E.R. worker resisted and he grabbed a wheelchair and went to get his wife himself.

“Wait, Cord! We’ll get her.”

He heard them shouting but that wouldn’t stop him. They couldn’t lose this baby. They just couldn’t.

Kate had gotten out of the car, holding her small tummy. It wasn’t the normal E.R. pregnancy picture an expectant father wanted to see. He wanted to see her belly grow. He wanted to experience every part of life with her. Not apart.

“Good, you got a chair.” The relaxed calmness evaporated as she reached out to spread his shirt wide and look at the bloodstain. “Oh, my God, Cord. Were you shot?”

He covered his side, remembering the sting he’d felt at the front door. “Must be from someone else.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” she said, and sat in the chair for him to wheel her through the doors. “Would you please take care of Cord? He’s been shot again.”

Kate had stopped the first nurse who’d come to take charge of the wheelchair, flashed them a smile, a thank-you and acted as if they weren’t in the fight of their lives.

Cord had a flash of that night three years ago. Maybe it was a memory or just his imagination, but the anxiety currently thrumming through his system was worse than wondering where the next shot was coming from. He could return fire, defend himself, anticipate what might happen. Here, in this hospital, he didn’t have much more than the feeling of hopelessness. He’d lost everything here and each day he’d awoken here, each time he’d returned for a doctor’s appointment, he’d been reminded of how much he’d lost.

He stood five feet away from Kate, refusing to move to the next curtained area. Dumbfounded? In shock? He couldn’t tell. He sort of watched things happen around him and thought about everything as it did. Doctors and nurses moved around him. Someone took him by the shoulders and said, “At least stay at the head of the bed so we can work.”

Needles, IV bags, monitors and voices that didn’t completely register. Dozens of people helped her and he just stood there. Unable to react or help her. It was out of his control.

Was he losing it?

He’d never been an emotional man. When he said something, he meant it and he’d always assumed the person listening knew he meant it. Kate knew, didn’t she? Knew that he loved her more than life?

How often did you tell her?
He heard the shrink’s question. And his answer had been “all the time.” But had he?

“I love you, Kathleen.”

Motion in the room stopped.

“I love you, too, Cord. Now will someone check under all that blood? I’m telling you, the man has been shot.”

“Not shot, just cut, I think,” Cord clarified for her.

They began working again and a doctor he’d never met—he knew plenty of them at this place—lifted his shirt and mumbled a curse.

“Someone get this man a bed,” the doctor said.

“I’m not leaving. Do whatever you have to do, but I’m staying by her side as long as she needs me.” He looked in Kate’s eyes and knew she understood the full meaning of his words. He’d go wherever she needed him to. Give up anything for her. There’d be plenty of time to decide what they were doing once this baby was safe.

He also saw her love. It shot through him, energizing more than the physical part of him. She gave him the strength to conquer whatever life threw at him.

“We’re getting married,” he announced to the nurse squirting a stinging solution on his side.

“There he goes again,” Kate said, smiling in spite of their uncertain future, “making plans without ever asking me the question.”

“Is there a question to ask?”

She shook her head. “Just say when and where.”

Epilogue

“Did Mr. Cauldwell tell you why he gave you a ride to your ranch?” Mac’s attorney asked.

“No, he did not. And it wasn’t a ‘ride,’” Kate stated under oath.

It had been four months of secretive living, overprotection and major bed rest. Kate had fought the doctors about returning for the grand jury hearing. Once Mac had been apprehended, the prosecuting attorneys had pushed to get her testimony on record while she was still pregnant. “More effective and personal.”

Right. She was as big as a house and her back was killing her because of the hours on a wooden chair across the hall.

“Did Mr. Cauldwell ever state that he’d shot Nick Burke?”

“Not in those words, no.” Kate hated to admit he hadn’t confessed and avoided looking in the direction of where Mac sat.

“So it’s possible you could have misunderstood what he’d said. And it’s possible he’d received instructions from his boss, Nick Burke, to drop you at your home?”

“He drove off with my boots.” She pointed to an evidence bag at the side of the room. They’d been found along the ranch’s drive near the main road. “He said Serna would be there to pick me up. And let’s be perfectly clear, Mac knew I was pregnant and knew that monster intended to kill me, not buy me new shoes.”

A low amount of laughter rippled through the room. Kate smiled until a contraction tightened her belly even tighter than the stretched-to-capacity skin. She looked at Cord, who hadn’t looked away since they’d walked in.

“Just answer the question put before you.”

“Kate?” Cord stood, hands on the railing separating him from the back of the prosecutor.

“Sit down, Mr. McCrea,” the judge instructed.

“I’m fine.” She smiled at her husband. “Really.” Cord sat but stayed on the edge of the long bench, his knuckles turning white against the dark stain of the railing.

Mac still had a smile on his face as if he seriously didn’t care what she said. That it didn’t matter. But this trial would determine if he went into witness protection or if he spent the rest of his sorry life behind bars.

It was the only reason Cord had finally conceded to returning to Texas for the trial. They had talked, discussed, weighed the pros and cons. Ultimately, he agreed he wanted Mac to pay for his crimes, not walk free.

“Again, Mrs. McCrea, is there a possibility that the defendant had misunderstood instructions from his employer?”

He would not walk free. She waited until the man who had betrayed her family looked at her. Waited longer while the constant smile changed to a worried frown. “There is no way Mac Cauldwell misunderstood anyone. He dropped me a mile from my home, shoeless with snow on the ground. He knew what he was doing and he stated that he didn’t care.”

Another contraction, much too soon after the first, made her pause long enough for the defense attorney to whine. But as soon as she could breathe again, she continued what she needed to say to keep Mac behind bars.

“He admitted that if he got caught he had evidence that would put him in WitSec. This man has no regard for the loss of life or horrible things he’s done. He deserves to rot in prison, not be rewarded with a new life.”

“Kate, you’re going to have to restrict— Are you okay?” the judge asked.

“Sorry, but I—” She could barely talk while the contraction subsided. “I think I’m in labor.”

* * *

T
HREE
POLICE
CARS
pulled into the Alpine hospital, escorting them to the emergency entrance. They were greeted at the door with a wheelchair and the doctor Kate had seen for the first half of her pregnancy. And yet, Cord had never been so frightened in his life. He’d just thought he’d been afraid. What if something happened to Kate? She was high risk after the past four years. Something could go wrong.

“Welcome back, Kate. Doing okay?” the doctor asked.

Kate panted, obviously in the middle of another contraction.

Cord looked at his watch. “That’s less than two minutes since the last one.”

“I think we should have us a baby,” the doctor told Kate, who nodded in agreement.

Kate laced her fingers through his as she was wheeled straight to the maternity wing. He stood in a corner out of the way, continually turning down the offer to sit in the chair or move to the waiting area. He would be by Kate’s side the entire time no matter how useless he felt. Guns he could handle. Horses he could work in his sleep. But worrying about Kate was a full-time job.

“Cord,” Kate called, waving him closer. “You look like you’re about to throw up. Are you okay?”

The doctor entered the room and proceeded to do her thing checking on Kate. Truth be told, he didn’t know how he felt. He was about to be a father.

“Well, Kate. Things are progressing nicely and it probably won’t be too long. I’ll be back when I’m needed.”

They were alone, something that would have scared him to death five months ago, but he loved it now. He’d spent a lot of time with his wife. Talking about what had happened in the past but, most important, how they could be there for each other in the future.

“Perfect timing, little one.” Kate rubbed her gargantuan stomach—her words, not his. He was grateful for the way she looked. “I wanted our baby born in Texas so badly. I’ll miss raising a family here.”

“We’ll be back on the ranch soon.” He shook his head, baffled that his wife would continue to question his desire to run her family’s ranch. “I’m done with being a Ranger, Kate. Really.”

“I’m afraid you’ll miss it.” Her grip on his hand tightened, and tightened some more during the contraction.

This was one thing she was completely wrong about. He couldn’t put his family in danger like that again, and he actually loved ranching. Even his father agreed it was time to live a normal life.

“I think you’re supposed to breathe through those things, babe.”

“Right. And don’t call me babe. Oh, wow, here’s another one.”

Cord called for the nurse, who called for the doctor. They pushed, or Kate did and he held her hand. And sooner than he expected, he was a dad holding his brand-new baby boy.

“Looks like you’ve got that next-generation Ranger after all,” Kate said. “Guess he doesn’t want to be called Lorna after his grandmother.”

“I love you, Kathleen.” Cord kissed his son’s forehead, so thankful both of them were okay. “Whoever Danver McCrea grows up to be, he’ll always be protected by us both.”

* * * * *

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Ultimate Cowboy
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Chapter One

“This special news report just in—an amber alert has been issued for six-year-old Hank Forte. Hank was last seen at the county fair in Amarillo.”

Brody Bloodworth’s heart clenched as a photo of the boy appeared on screen. The little boy had blond hair, was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. He could be one of the kids on the BBL, the Bucking Bronc Lodge he had started for needy children.

But he reminded him more of his own little brother, Will, and launched him back seven years ago to the day Will had gone missing.

Not from a county fair but from the rodeo where
he
was supposed to be watching him.

Self-loathing and guilt suffused him, once again robbing his lungs of air. He understood what the family of that little boy was going through now. The panic. The fear.

The guilt.

If only they’d kept a better eye on him. If only they hadn’t turned their head for a minute.

What was happening to him? Had he just wandered off? Would they find him hiding out or playing somewhere at the fair? Maybe he had fallen asleep in a stall housing one of the animals...

Or had someone taken him? Maybe a desperate woman who’d lost a child and was out of her mind? A child predator who’d do God knows what?

A killer?

The reporter turned the microphone to Hank’s parents, a couple who were huddled together, teary-eyed and frightened. A second later, they began to plead for their son’s return, and the mother broke down into sobs.

Brody hit the remote, silencing the heart-wrenching scene, but it played over and over in his head. But it wasn’t the Forte family’s cries he heard; it was his own family’s.

His father who’d blamed him from the get-go.

Because it was his fault.

He glanced through the window at the sprawling acres and acres of land he’d bought, to the horse stables and pens and the boys that he’d taken in. All kids who had troubles, boys who needed homes and love and guidance.

But no matter how much he did for them, it wouldn’t make up for losing his little brother.

The clock in the hall struck 6:00 p.m., and he stood, pulled on his duster jacket and headed outside. One of his best men, Mason Blackpaw, and his fiancée, Cara Winchester, were getting married on the ranch in a few minutes. He’d promised he’d be there, and he was happy for his friend, but weddings always made him uncomfortable.

And he’d attended a hell of a lot of them lately. In fact, all of his original investors had tied the knot. First Johnny Long, then Brandon Woodstock, Carter Flagstone, then Miles McGregor, and now Mason.

Yanking at his tie to loosen the choking knot, he glanced at the field to the right where Mason had built a gazebo. Cara had rented tables and chairs and had decorated them with white linens, bows and fresh day lilies.

Half wishing he could skip the ceremony, he started to turn and go back inside, but Mason strode up to the steps of the gazebo then glanced his way with a smile.

Brody forced one in return. He couldn’t let his foul mood ruin his friend’s day.

Still, it was all he could do to put on a congenial face as he took a seat in the back row. Weddings made him think of Julie Whitehead, the only girl he’d ever loved.

The girl he’d snuck off to make out with at the rodeo, leaving his brother alone and unprotected.

In the panicked and horrible days after Will had disappeared, he’d lashed out at Julie. He’d blamed her.

But it was really himself he hated.

Dammit, that news report had stirred it all up again, all the haunting memories. He needed to check the database for missing and exploited children, make sure Will’s information was still there.

Over the years, he’d focused on making sure local law enforcement agencies as well as statewide ones didn’t give up looking. Even all these years later, he still had hope he’d find his brother.

Although that hope was harder to hold on to every day.

Worse, worry over what his brother had suffered ate at him constantly.

Still, he had to know if he was dead or alive.

* * *

S
PECIAL
A
GENT
J
ULIE
W
HITEHEAD
ran her finger over the embossed wedding invitation from Cara Winchester and Mason Blackpaw, then tossed it into the trash. She had worked with Mason on the Slasher case along with Detective Miles McGregor, tracking down a notorious serial killer who’d committed horrific crimes against women. During the case, they’d made friends, but she couldn’t bear to attend the couple’s wedding—not when it was taking place on the Bucking Bronc Lodge.

Not when Brody Bloodworth would probably attend.

After all, he was the founder of the ranch for troubled boys, a project she whole-heartedly admired, but he was also the man who’d broken her heart. Even after seven years, the thought of seeing him again tore her in knots.

Of course, she hadn’t blamed him for hating her after his little brother had disappeared. If it hadn’t been for her selfishness, her eagerness to seduce him away from the rodeo, he would have been with Will, and the little boy never would have disappeared.

She’d never forgiven herself for that.

And she’d made it her sole mission in life to see that one day he was found.

The very reason she’d joined the TBI.

Agent Jay Cord, one of the agents who specialized in missing children cases, cursed as he strode over to her desk. “Dammit, did you hear that another little boy went missing?”

Julie’s lungs tightened. “Hank Forte. I feel so bad for that family.” Memories of the torturous hours after Will’s disappearance flashed back. “Any leads?”

“We’re still questioning all the workers at the fair, but so far nothing.”

She squeezed the stress ball on her desk, knowing the routine all too well. The family was always suspect, a fact that appalled her on their behalf and made her sick at the same time because a large percentage of the time they were guilty.

Next on their suspect list—their friends and relatives. The police and TBI would look into financials, search for motives, the whole time putting out feelers for pedophiles, ex-cons and mental patients. Then the wait for a ransom call. And what to do then?

And if one didn’t come...the terrible realization that their child might be dead. “The parents check out?” she asked.

“So far. Both seem devastated. No financial problems. No custody issues. No enemies that they know of.”

Julie frowned, thinking of all the cases they’d seen. The first forty-eight hours were crucial. Every second after lessened the chances they would find the child alive.

“I’m headed to Amarillo now,” Jay said. “Want to grab a bite of dinner with me on the way? There’s a great Italian place I’ve been wanting to try.”

Julie offered him a smile and considered the offer. She knew Jay wanted more from her than friendship or to be coworkers. But even though she liked and admired him, she didn’t have it in her heart to get involved with him.

Because your heart belongs to someone else.

No...because her heart had been broken, and she wouldn’t take the chance on love again.

Still, maybe she should give him a shot.

Julie stood and reached for her jacket to go with him, but her section chief Lee Hurt, strode in. “Wait a minute, Whitehead. I’ve got another case for you.”

Julie frowned. What could take precedence over looking for Hank Forte?

He strode to her computer, inserted a flash drive, then a second later clicked to open the file. Jay followed, probably wondering if it had to do with the Forte case.

“You’ve been looking for that kid William Bloodworth for years, haven’t you?”

Julie narrowed her eyes. Was he going to reprimand her? “Yes.”

“Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”

Jay leaned closer and the two of them watched as feed from a security camera filled the screen. Two teenage boys wearing dark hoodies walked into a convenience store, combed the aisles until the few customers inside left, then approached the cashier. Their faces were shrouded in shadows from the hoods, but the taller one held a pistol on the clerk, then demanded all their cash.

“Why are we watching a petty robbery?” Jay asked.

Chief Hurt clicked an icon, and the camera closed in on the oldest boy. Julie’s heart began to pound as his face came into focus.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Is it possible?”

Chief Hurt punched another set of keys. “Something about the face seemed familiar so I ran it through our databases, cross-referencing with photos from our missing kids’ files and the facial recognition software program that keeps them updated.”

Julie’s stomach knotted as she watched the computer work its magic. The yearly updates of Will’s picture as he’d progressed in age were displayed first, then a comparison shot of the boy at the convenience store and Will’s latest sketch.

They were so similar her instincts surged to life.

“I can’t believe it,” Julie said, stunned. “We’ve been looking for Will Bloodworth for years, and if this is him, he’s surfaced as a criminal?”

“We think it’s a local gang,” Chief Hurt said. “A group of boys have been robbing stores across Texas.”

“Do you think someone bigger is behind it?” Julie asked.

Chief Hurt shrugged. “Maybe. That’s what we have to find out.”

“I have to tell Will’s brother, Brody,” Julie said. “He...never gave up hope that Will was alive.”

Jay arched a brow. “You’ve kept in touch?”

Julie shook her head, a pang ripping through her. “No, but he sends an email periodically to the bureau asking for updates. He’s kept his brother’s name in front of us to make sure we don’t stop looking for him.”

Chief Hurt crossed his arms. “Cord, take Special Agent Harmon with you to Amarillo to work on the disappearance of the Forte boy. Whitehead, you’re right. Go talk to this kid’s brother, tell him what we’ve discovered.”

Emotions pummeled Julie. She’d waited years for this moment, to be able to tell Brody that she’d found his brother. To somehow make right the wrong she’d done years ago.

“Maybe you can convince him to help us find his brother and bring him in,” Hurt said.

Julie’s chest constricted.

Brody was going to be relieved, even thrilled, to know Will was alive.

But how would he feel when he learned the law wanted him? That once they found him, instead of coming home with him, he would probably go to jail?

* * *

B
RODY
’
S
CELL
PHONE
buzzed just as Mason kissed the bride. Laughter and cheers erupted, and the boys from the ranch shifted, anxious for the food. Miles gave his wife a big kiss, which started a chain reaction with all the happy couples in the audience—once again, a reminder that Brody was alone.

Music echoed from the guitar, everyone cheered and clapped, but his phone buzzed again, spoiling the moment. He glanced at the number, ready to let it roll to voice mail. But then he saw the number on the caller ID.

The Texas Bureau of Investigation.

His heart stopped for a moment. He’d memorized that number long ago.

It might not be about Will, he told himself.

Still, hope surfaced. Along with fear.

He knew good and damn well that the call might mean his brother was dead.

The phone buzzed again, and he headed toward the porch as the preacher introduced Mr. and Mrs. Mason Blackpaw and the couple danced down the aisle toward the reception area.

Gritting his teeth, he punched Talk. “Brody Bloodworth speaking.”

A breath whispered over the line, making him tense. “Who is this?”

“Brody, it’s Julie.”

His breath stalled.

“Special Agent Julie Whitehead from the TBI,” she continued, her voice slightly shaky.

Jesus, he’d heard she’d gone into law enforcement. Even read that she’d helped Mason and Miles find the serial killer who’d been cutting up women the last few months.

Picturing her in that role had been hard for him.

“Brody?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Just shocked to hear from you.”

“I’m on my way to the BBL to see you,” she said. “It’s...about Will.”

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the emotions assaulting him. God help him, he had thought he wanted answers.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Outside, the festivities continued as Mason and Cara cracked open the champagne. Miles McGregor made a toast in celebration of the new life the couple were starting together. They were happy, smiling, looking forward to their future.

Something he hadn’t done since that horrible day seven years ago.

Finally, he cleared his throat, willing himself to be strong. He’d waited years for this call; he had to know. “You found him?”

“Yes, we think so,” Julie said. “I’ll explain when I arrive.”

“Explain? What the hell does that mean?” All his pent-up anger, guilt and worry churned through him. “Just tell me, dammit, do you know where he is?”

“Not exactly,” Julie said. “Like I said, I’ll explain when I get there.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the question that had tormented him every night since Will had disappeared, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Not yet.

Julie hung up, and he sat down on the porch swing and knotted his hands into fists and waited. There was no way he could join the celebration right now.

Instead, he watched for Julie’s car, knowing she had the answers that he’d told himself he needed to move on with his life.

Only he’d been kidding himself.

The scenarios that screamed through his head did nothing but make him feel sick inside. And the truth, no matter what it was, couldn’t be pretty or Julie would have told him over the phone.

He had to brace himself for the worst. Trouble was he didn’t know what would be more horrible—finding out his brother was dead, or that he’d been held hostage and abused for years.

* * *

J
ULIE
ADMIRED
THE
sprawling pastures and riding pens as she drove onto the BBL. She’d read about the ranch in the papers and seen pictures of the main house, cabins, stables, camp activities and counseling services offered by the ranch and had been stunned at what Brody had accomplished.