Texas Holiday Hideout Page 7

  He called his boss again on the way to the house to let him know their location had not been compromised, after all. Griffin was glad to hear it but had no update on locating the mole in WITSEC.

  “I’ve come across several marshals who’ve made some large purchases lately, but I haven’t had time to check them out to make sure they’re legitimate.”

  Large purchases could be a result of accepting some bribe money. “Like who?”

  “Well, Lanie, for one. Did you know she just put a large down payment on an expensive new house?”

  Miles rubbed his face at that news. He’d heard her decry living in the city more times than he could count, but he hadn’t heard anything about buying a new house. Why wouldn’t she have mentioned that? And where had she gotten the money?

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

  Griffin ended the call, and Miles slipped his phone into his pocket. He couldn’t believe Lanie could be a mole. There was probably a perfectly legitimate explanation for where she’d gotten the money to purchase that house. Part of him wanted to call her up and demand an answer, but he checked that response. That wasn’t his job—and it might interfere with Griffin’s investigation. Miles’s job was to protect Melissa and Dylan. Griffin would handle the rest.

  But as he recalled the way Melissa had shuddered in fear and leaned into him, he realized he was already taking her safety too personally. She was a beautiful, strong, determined woman and it was his duty to protect her and her son. It wasn’t his job to enjoy getting so close, or to notice the sweet scent of her shampoo.

  * * *

  Melissa helped Dylan out of his jacket and boots. She’d enjoyed the day so far with Miles’s family, but as she glanced out the window and spotted him huddled near the barn with his brother, she wondered what they were discussing.

  She couldn’t concentrate on that. She had to keep her mind on something else and keep Dylan occupied, as well. “What should we do this afternoon?” she asked him. “Would you like to watch a Christmas movie?”

  Kellyanne approached them. “Actually, I promised Dylan we would do a Christmas craft this afternoon.”

  “That sounds like fun. What are we making?”

  But Dylan pushed her away. “No, you can’t see, Mama.”

  Kellyanne’s face turned red. “I told him we would make a surprise for you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.”

  She was glad to see Dylan looking so happy and having a good time. She chose to focus on that, and not on how hard it would be for all of them when they had to part ways.

  Having been shooed away by her three-year-old son, Melissa ventured into the kitchen, where Diane had pulled on her apron and was preparing for an afternoon of baking. Melissa recognized the signs from having watched her mother do the same thing many times.

  Tears pressed against her eyes at the familiar sight. It was a different kitchen and a different woman, but she saw her own mother standing and laughing in the kitchen while baking cookies for her and Dylan’s Christmas party.

  “Melissa, what’s wrong?”

  She quickly wiped away a tear that had spilled down her cheek and pasted on a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Diane took her arm and pulled out a chair for her to sit. “Something is wrong. You’ve gone positively pale, and don’t think I don’t see those tears, no matter how hard you’re fighting to hold them back. I know you think you need to be strong for Dylan, honey—but it’s just the two of us in here. You can talk to me.”

  She wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. “It’s nothing. I—I just... My mother loved to bake. She had just started a home baking business. On the day she died the house smelled of cookies she’d been baking as a Christmas present for the employees at Dylan’s day care.”

  Diane placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That must have been jarring for you. Is this your first Christmas without her?”

  She nodded. These people had no idea how fresh and raw her mother’s death was, or how unresolved her feelings were when it came to everything surrounding it. She wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but she couldn’t push away the memory of that smell and then finding her mother dead. Holiday baking would never be the same.

  Diane turned back to her preparation while Melissa watched. She probably expected her to jump up and run off, and part of her wanted to do that, but the other part, the part that missed her mom so much, just wanted to sit and bask in the aroma. “She always smelled like warm bread,” she told Diane. “Most moms smell like perfume or lotion, but my mother always smelled like freshly baked bread.”

  “I take it you and she were close?”

  “Oh, yes, we were very close. When my husband, Vick, was killed, she was right there for us, letting us move in with her so she could help me raise Dylan. She was my rock.” She wiped away another tear as she realized she’d depended on her mom for so many things and that, in turn, her mother had freely given Melissa everything—everything except the truth.

  “My mother was the one who instilled in me the love of cooking,” Diane said. “But baking is my favorite thing to do. I find comfort in it and I enjoy seeing how a cupcake or a cookie can bring a smile to someone’s face.”

  Melissa smiled, her estimation of Miles’s mother growing. “I think you and my mom would have gotten along.”

  “Thank you. I take that as a compliment. I’ve got three dozen cookies to bake for our annual Christmas banquet. I would love the help if you think you’re up to it.”

  Melissa thought that would be a proper way to honor her mom and appreciated the offer. “I’d like that,” she said, wiping away her tears and pulling on an apron that Diane handed her.

  Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas without the familiar scent of cookies baking in the oven. She wouldn’t let the negative associations haunt her—not when the good memories so heavily outweighed the bad. This was the way her mother would want to be remembered...and celebrated.

  * * *

  His mother was waiting on the porch for him when Miles approached the house. “I wanted to speak to you about Melissa. She was so upset earlier. Are you aware this will be her first Christmas without her mom?”

  “I am.” But he’d given no thought to how she was handling it. WITSEC was hard enough, but to have to deal with Christmas and a pretend family, too, must have been an extraordinary burden on her. He’d been so consumed with keeping her and Dylan safe that he hadn’t even thought about how much being around his family would make her miss her mom. She hadn’t even had time to really grieve for her and here he was shoving his family at her.

  Knucklehead.

  He had to do better.

  “She’s suffering a lot,” his mom said. “You need to be considerate of that.”

  “I will,” he promised, then kissed her, thankful to still have her. It was just like his mom to be thinking of others during their times of need. They’d nearly lost his dad earlier in the year, so that put some perspective on how he viewed losing a parent. How would he feel if his dad had died and he’d immediately been forced to basically forget about him? He was sure that he wouldn’t have handled it very well, but Melissa was holding up like a trouper. He knew she was doing her best to be strong for Dylan’s sake, and he believed she was doing an amazing job of it. Too amazing. All that grief had to go somewhere, and he hated the thought of her hiding it, crying in the bathroom or in her bed at night rather than allowing herself to admit she needed comfort.

  He wanted to do something nice for her to help her get past this, but there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t have a service or a ceremony. In fact, he shouldn’t even be talking about her mom’s recent death with anyone, let alone his mother. Hopefully, the circumstances of her mother’s death hadn’t been mentioned.

  They spent a quiet afternoon with the family and by the time it gre
w dark outside, Dylan had fallen asleep in Melissa’s lap. He was covered in glitter and clutching a star he’d made out of Popsicle sticks. Melissa rubbed his hair and glanced at him with so much love. Miles couldn’t imagine loving someone so much that it elicited that kind of look, but he wanted that so much. He wanted to be a father, a husband—wanted to share his life with someone and build a family—but he knew he couldn’t count on achieving those goals.

  Especially since he was starting to want this family, and that definitely wasn’t an option.

  Melissa raised her head and looked at him, startling him with her intuition. Could she sense how focused he’d been on her?

  He got up, walked to the couch and held out his hand. “I want to show you something.”

  His dad stood and offered his help. “I’ll take Dylan upstairs and put him down while you go with Miles.”

  She handed Dylan off to Miles’s dad then reached for his hand and stood to face him. “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace special.” He grabbed both of their coats and led them outside to the barn. He pushed open the main door and walked through to the center, where he reached for the ladder that led up to the hayloft.

  She balked when he pulled it down. “I’m not sure about this, Miles.”

  They only used this area for storage, but it had the most beautiful view of the countryside. “It’ll be great. Trust me.” He held out his hand and after a moment of hesitation, she took it. That meant a lot to him. It told him she did trust him.

  He climbed the ladder first then helped her up. The loft was dark and stuffy, and she coughed several times at the dust. He could tell that she wasn’t terribly impressed so far, but he knew once the doors were opened that her opinion would change. He used the flashlight on his phone to light the way to the doors and unlatched them, swinging one and then the other open.

  Melissa gasped and moved closer to him. The view did not disappoint. It was a cloudless night and the dark sky was lit up with bright, shining stars above them and clear country landscape ahead of them. Below, several horses neighed in the corral, but otherwise the night was still and silent.

  He took her hand again and led her toward the edge, then sat down and pulled her beside him. She let her legs hang over the side and leaned into him, and he soaked in the scent of her hair. He couldn’t express in words why he’d wanted to share this view with her, wanted her to love this place just as he did, but he did. He shouldn’t want it. Shouldn’t be getting so close to her and caring so much about her. But the pull of her overpowered his instincts to keep his distance.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she said, staring from the sky to him. Her brown eyes shone with delight and it was all he could do to stop himself from putting his arms around her and pulling her into a kiss.

  He turned away, knowing his actions would only result in heartbreak. Their lives were on two different paths and she’d already made it clear that she could never be with someone with so many secrets. Besides, his growing feelings for her were already clouding his judgment and he could not allow that to happen. Her safety, and Dylan’s safety, were too important to him.

  So instead of kissing, they talked. They actually ended up talking for over an hour. She queried him about what it was like for him growing up here on the ranch and why he’d felt he had to leave it.

  “The world was calling to me. I knew I wanted to help people. I knew I wanted to do something that I would never find here.”

  She shook her head. “If I’d grown up here, I don’t think I ever would have left.”

  “This place is important to me. It’s my home and it always will be. But it’s not where my life is any longer. I love what I do. I love being a part of something bigger than myself and helping bring people to justice.”

  She snuggled against him and placed her head on his shoulder. “You’re a protector at heart. I knew it the first time I met you. I am thankful you decided to leave this ranch and join the marshals service. Who knows what would have happened to Dylan and me if we’d been left in someone else’s charge.”

  “There are plenty of good people with the marshals who would have done anything in their power to keep you and Dylan safe.”

  “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been you and I can’t imagine trusting anyone else as much as I trust you, Miles.”

  She looked at him and he saw that trust and vulnerability in her face. She was putting all of her faith in him and his skills, and he didn’t want to let her down. He wanted to be the one she could trust without doubt, without fear. But how could he keep her safe when there was so much he didn’t understand about the threats against her? And, more important, how was he ever going to be able to let her go once the threats against her were neutralized?

  He heard movement below and figured one of his brothers was giving the horses their final check for the night. “It’s getting late. We should get back to the house,” he said and she nodded.

  “And I need to check on Dylan.”

  He stood, then helped her to her feet. Her hand fit perfectly inside his and a rush of electricity sped up his arm at her touch. She must have felt it, too, because she leaned into him and lifted her head to look at him. He saw in her face everything he wanted out of life. A wife. A family. A companion to share his life with. He lowered his face to hers and felt the excitement between them. None of the obstacles between them mattered in this moment, as he held her in his arms. He touched his lips to hers and felt her give beneath him as he kissed her, his mind racing only with thoughts about her and the way she made him feel.

  She broke the kiss but didn’t pull away. One of his hands rested on her cheek, his finger curving under her jaw far enough to feel the racing beat of her pulse under his finger. It matched his own accelerated pulse.

  “I can’t breathe,” she said, but she still didn’t move away. Instead, her eyes searched his.

  He was having a difficult time breathing himself and the temperature seemed to have shot up. She had that effect on him.

  Then he realized, the breathlessness they were feeling wasn’t from the kiss or the charged atmosphere between them.

  Smoke filled the loft from the trapdoor they’d used to climb up into the loft. He ran to it and glanced down into the barn. Fire blazed upward, consuming the ladder as the horses, still in their stalls, whinnied and kicked, trying to escape the flames.

  In the distance, footsteps rushed toward the barn and he recognized his brothers’ voices as they entered the burning barn and started opening stalls and forcing out the animals.

  Melissa stood over him. “What are we going to do?”

  He pushed her away from the opening as flames shot up and the ladder finally caved, crashing to the floor. “We can’t get out that way.” He rushed to the edge of the loft and glanced down. There was nothing soft for them to land on if they jumped. In fact, a piece of farm equipment was parked directly below, making a jump all the more dangerous.

  Panic filled Melissa’s face and he suspected she was thinking about Dylan and never seeing him again. He took her shoulders and locked eyes with her. “We’ll figure out how to get out of here. I promise.”

  He turned and hollered out for his brothers, hoping one of them could hear him over the roar of the fire and the noises the horses were making. He spotted Paul and Luke and two other kids he didn’t recognize, who must have been the others from the teen mentoring group. Yet none of them seemed to hear his calls for help.

  He took out his cell phone and dialed Paul’s number. He watched his brother reach for the phone, hoping and praying he wouldn’t be so focused on the emergency in front of him that he’d let it go to voice mail.

  Paul pulled out his phone, seemed to check the caller ID then answered the call. “Miles, I’m—”

  “We’re trapped in the loft,” he said, cutting off his brother.

  Paul turned and glanced up. His fa
ce hardened as he spotted them.

  “The ladder burned up,” Miles continued. “We’re trapped. We need a way down.”

  Paul glanced around, then started shouting for help to move the hay baler away from the barn. Two of the ranch hands tried to move it, but it was apparently hot to the touch from its proximity to the fire, because they had to slip out of their coats and use them as gloves in order to move the equipment.

  Melissa screamed and Miles spun around to see the loft floor giving way under her feet. He grabbed her before the floor fell away. He pulled her to him and moved closer to the loft opening. The fire was spreading quickly and he smelled gasoline in the flames. This was no accident. Someone had intentionally set this fire.

  “Hang on,” Paul shouted, as the boys helped him carry hay bales beneath the loft.

  “We have to jump,” he said, knowing the hay wouldn’t last long this close to the fire.

  She shook her head as fear made her stiff and unyielding. “I can’t. It’s too far.”

  “They can’t move the bales any closer to the barn because they would burn up. This is our only chance to get out, Melissa. We don’t have much longer before this floor gives way completely.” Already the fire had climbed the walls and was engulfing the roof. Soon they would have to worry about that giving, too. They couldn’t stay here.

  “Think about Dylan. You have to get to him.”

  That seemed to get to her and she turned to face the opening, but just when he thought she was going to step off the ledge, she stopped and turned back to him, kissing him hard on the lips before leaping off the edge. She screamed but landed in the hay and Paul scrambled to pull her to safety, then motioned for Miles to jump, too.

  He glanced back at the roof as it collapsed around him. He nearly didn’t make it in time but he jumped an instant before the debris had a chance to hit him. He landed hard, only half on the hay bale, and jammed his arm, pain spearing through him. Paul didn’t waste any time pulling him to his feet and he had no choice but to scramble, too, and move with his brother, ignoring the pain. More distance from the fire was a necessity—and it couldn’t wait. If he didn’t move now, a busted shoulder would be the least of his concerns.