Peril on the Ranch Page 9

  “Thank you. I’ll do that for a bit, then come take over and you can go.”

  “Perfect.” Sybil kissed the infant’s head and walked out of the kitchen.

  Isabelle drew in a deep breath—what felt like the first one she’d had time to take all day. After a glance out the window to see the children having fun and Ben and Mac standing guard around the perimeter, she turned the basket of apples and unloaded them into a basket she pulled from the cabinet.

  At the bottom was a note from Valerie.

  “Isabelle, thank you so much for your friendship and all you do for the children in this town. I’m blessed to call you my friend.”

  A lump formed in Isabelle’s throat, but she choked it down. She was the one who was blessed. Sure, she’d had some hard times just like anyone else who lived life, but for the most part, she was very, very blessed. She paused, a memory flickering at the edges of her mind.

  “Everything okay in here?”

  Mac’s voice made her jump and exhale. “Yes. Fine.” What was it about the note?

  “Zoe,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  She looked up, her pulse thrumming. “Valerie wrote me a sweet note. She does it for people in the town every so often. Her kids’ teachers, her pastor, her clients who purchase homes from her and Travis. It’s one of the many things that make the townspeople love her.”

  “And?”

  “And,” she said, walking toward her room, “every so often I hear from a former foster child. Zoe wrote me a note shortly after she left.”

  “Zoe?”

  “The second foster child Josiah and I took in,” she called over her shoulder. “Hold on. I’ll explain in just a second.” She went to her closet and grabbed a box from the top shelf. When she returned to the living area, Mac was waiting by the window, watching the events going on outside. He turned.

  She set the box on the coffee table and opened it. “I know I kept it.” She rummaged through the box, looking. And finally pulled a manila folder from the bottom. She opened it and scanned the contents until she spotted what she was looking for. “This. Zoe’s letter. I got it about six months after she left, but it wasn’t until I saw Valerie’s note that it dawned on me the handwriting on the note left in the baby carrier was familiar for a reason.” She opened it and read, “‘Dear Isabelle, thank you for everything you and Josiah did for me. If not for you, I’d never be where I am now. College. Can you believe it? Anyway, I hope you and Josiah are doing well. You mean the world to me and are a wonderful example of what a mother should be. Sacrificing, compassionate, and mostly, offering unconditional love. Most important, thank you for saving my life and teaching me what a relationship based on love and respect is supposed to look like. You’ve blessed me in more ways than I’ll ever be able to count. Love, Zoe.’”

  She fought the tears the note brought to the surface, carefully refolded it and looked at Mac. “Zoe is Lilly’s mother.”

  * * *

  Mac nodded, his admiration for Isabelle increasing by the moment. “That’s an incredible expression of love right there.”

  “Yes.”

  Her voice was low. A husky whisper that tightened his own throat. “My wife was like that. She loved everyone, including me, with a passion that I’ve not seen in many people.”

  “It sounds so trite to say this,” she said, reaching out to curl her fingers around his, “but I really am so very sorry for your loss.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I can say the same for you.” They fell silent for a moment. Then Mac said, “I’ll be honest. The pain of losing her has lessened with time, but losing Little Mac...” He shook his head, not sure he could voice his thoughts. “Losing a spouse is one thing.” His gaze flicked to hers. “You know how that feels. But losing a child...” He swallowed before he could go on. “You know, when you become a cop, there’s the knowledge that every day might be your last. You accept that, make peace with it and move on. At least most cops do. Doesn’t mean you’re not hyperalert and watching over your shoulder more than the average person, but you live with it. Your family learns to live with it—again, most of the time.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “At no point did I expect to lose Jeanie and my son. It came out of nowhere and knocked me so sideways I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.”

  “Has being a nomad helped you?”

  A short, humorless laugh escaped. “Hmm. Yes, in some ways. In other ways, I know I’m just running.”

  “Well...that’s very...insightful of you. Impressively self-aware.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever settle down? Find a place to call home again?”

  Mac studied her for a moment. His mind went to the little place in the valley of the mountains of Virginia. Somehow, he couldn’t picture it as vividly as he could just a few days ago. Now the image was blurred, with Isabelle’s place superimposed over it. What would it be like to call this place home? With her? He blinked. “Maybe. At some point. It gets easier to think about doing that with each passing day.” Especially since he’d arrived at her ranch.

  “Good, I’m glad.” She hesitated before glancing at the note again. “I guess I should call Grant so he can start looking for whoever the father is. I’m also going to try to get ahold of Zoe. I have an old cell phone number for her, just not sure if it still works.”

  “Can’t hurt to try. While you do that, I’m going to get the golf cart and take a ride around the property. I’ll probably be back by the time Grant gets here.”

  “Okay.”

  He left her sitting there with the note and her phone pressed to her ear. His tumbling emotions left him reeling. And thinking. He’d had a good marriage, albeit a short one. So had Isabelle, from all appearances. The difference between them was that she hadn’t let her husband’s death stop her from living—or making an impact on the lives of others.

  Shame burned a path from his heart to his cheeks. Had he been so self-absorbed that he’d stopped caring? Stopped seeing the needs of others? Stopped...everything?

  Unwilling to examine those questions further, he watched the kids and Travis for a few more minutes. Cody Ray and the dogs had joined them and they didn’t seem to be tiring of the games anytime soon. Danny seemed to be having a bit of trouble getting the lasso to work for him and Travis was helping Katie, so Mac walked over to the boy. “Want some help?”

  “Sure.” Danny passed him the rope.

  “So, first of all, you want to make sure your wrist is nice and loose.” He demonstrated and Danny copied him. Travis had brought three practice bulls and Mac lined Danny up to face the one in front of him. “Then you twirl the rope like so, holding the longer piece with your other hand. Then you whirl it over your head, aim it, then let it go.” Mac released the rope and it settled right over the plastic horns.

  “Way to go,” Danny crowed.

  “Nice job,” Travis said.

  “Thanks.” Mac pulled the rope back in and handed it to Danny. “You keep practicing. I’m going to ride around for a bit, okay?”

  “Sure.” Danny busied himself with the rope and Mac waved to Ben, hopped in the golf cart and started his perimeter check.

  As he rode, he decided one thing he was going to suggest was an updated security system. If Isabelle was willing—and able—to shell out the money for the purchase of the equipment, he could install it, saving her the labor cost.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen.

  His sister. His finger hovered over the swipe button, then switched to the red end icon and tapped it. She’d leave a message if it was something important.

  Like she’d done for the birth of his niece. More shame gathered and he sighed, flexed his fingers on the wheel and pulled his mind from his issues. He needed to focus on keeping Isabelle and the childre
n safe. Then, he’d man up and address his personal life. Until then, she and the kids were the priority.

  With that settled in his mind, he spun the golf cart to the back of the property and slowly made his way around it, taking notes on vulnerable security spots. He’d mention those to Isabelle after everyone was gone. Just as he pulled back around to the front, Grant’s cruiser came into sight. The man parked to the side of the house and Mac guided the golf cart in the space beside him.

  Grant stepped out of the car and Mac noted the man’s confident stance, the sharpness in his eyes. Mac knew the type. A good cop that made others feel either reassured by his presence or sorry they messed with him. Mac was glad Isabelle had Grant, Ben and Regina on her side.

  “You didn’t have to drive out here,” Mac said.

  “I was on my way home, anyway. Thought I’d stop in and check in with everyone. Didn’t realize you’d have a crowd.” His gaze was on the children in the field. Katie had the rope and was twirling it above her head. It dropped around her, midspin, and she let out a shriek. Grant laughed. “That kid cracks me up.”

  “You’re not alone. They’re practicing for the Day at the Ranch festival.”

  “Right. I’m looking forward to it. I don’t need to practice for my bit, though.”

  “What’s your role?”

  “Dunking booth stooge.” His lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Each year, I say I’m retiring, and each year, I keep coming back.”

  Mac laughed. “Come on, I think I saw Isabelle walk over to watch all the fun.” He sobered. “Any progress on finding our motorcycle-riding attacker?”

  Grant’s eyes clouded. “None at the moment. I’m hoping Isabelle’s going to give me something solid to go on. How’s her head where the hammer hit her?”

  “Seems to be fine. It’s certainly not slowing her down.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  The two men walked out to the pasture where Travis was working with Danny on roping the horns of a plastic bull. Isabelle stood outside the fence, watching. When she saw them, she strolled toward them, hands in her pockets, uncaring that her boots were covered in mud or that she had a streak of it on her cheek.

  Mac reached up without thinking, to brush it away. Her eyes widened and he dropped his hand. “Sorry. You had mud there.”

  A smile curved her lips. “With all the rain, the pasture hasn’t quite dried out yet. When Katie ran over to give me a hug, she passed on some of her mud, too.”

  Mac cleared his throat and held her gaze a moment longer before she turned to Grant. “The girl’s name is Zoe Hawthorne,” Isabelle said. She handed him the note Mac recognized as the one she’d kept in her box. “You can use that to compare the handwriting, but I really don’t have any doubts that it’s her.”

  “You know where she is?”

  “She texted last Christmas and said she was in school at UNC Chapel Hill. Said she got a scholarship and was majoring in education. She also said she was seeing someone, but when I pressed her for more details, she was pretty vague.”

  “She mention the guy’s name?”

  “No.” She waved her phone at him. “I even scrolled back through the texts to see if she did. But she didn’t.”

  Grant tucked the note into the front pocket of his shirt and nodded. “Should be easy enough to track her down.”

  “How’s Regina?”

  “She’s home. Her mother’s staying with her. Said she’s sore, but very grateful things weren’t worse.”

  “Yes, me, too,” Isabelle said, her voice low.

  A shrill scream pierced the air and the three turned as one. Mac drew in a horrified breath. Katie had wandered farther into the pasture and was now face-to-face with a very angry bull.

  ELEVEN

  Isabelle didn’t stop to think. She raced for the fence, her legs pumping, heart beating like a wild thing in her chest. “Katie! Don’t move!”

  “Isabelle! Stop!”

  Mac’s cry pierced her, but she kept going, angling around to the side of the fence so Duke couldn’t see her quick actions.

  The dogs barked, and she thought she heard Cody Ray tell the boys to hold them. That was one thing she didn’t have to worry about. The dogs might distract the bull—or cause him to charge in the blink of an eye.

  Duke let out a bellow and horned the ground. Katie stood frozen. Isabelle wasn’t sure if it was because the child had heard her order or if she was just so terrified she couldn’t move. “Please, Lord, please protect that baby. Don’t let him hurt her.” She whispered the words as she bolted past Danny and Zeb, both of whom looked horrified, and past Travis, Valerie and their children. Isabelle hit the fence and launched herself over just behind the bull’s right shoulder. She reached down and scooped up a rock that fit snuggly in the palm of her hand.

  “Isabelle...”

  Cody Ray’s low warning reverberated through her. She heard it, processed it...and ignored it. She’d promised Katie the day she’d arrived, scared and spooked at the slightest sound, that she would take care of her. Even if that meant getting between an agitated bull and the little girl.

  Isabelle heard Mac and Grant behind her. “Don’t move fast,” Isabelle whispered to the terrified five-year-old. “Just back up slowly.” Duke swung his attention from Katie to her, then back to Katie. The child didn’t budge, but Isabelle could see the tremors racing through her small body. “Katie? Katie, I’m here. Listen to me. Look at me, baby.” She kept her voice soft, soothing, calm. Duke snorted and shook his head, pawing the ground. Then he released another loud bellow that echoed through the air. “Katie? Can you hear me? Don’t look at Duke, look at me.”

  Katie’s gaze jerked to hers. “That’s it, honey, look at me.” Isabelle moved slowly around the animal, keeping her distance, while the bull seemed distracted for the moment, his attention swinging back and forth from Isabelle at his side to Katie in front of him.

  “Isabelle?” Mac’s voice came too close, but he was still on the other side of the fence. She shot a quick glance at him while her heart continued its thunderous beat. Mac climbed over the fence and his feet landed silently on the ground behind her.

  “I’ve got this, Mac.” Truly, she didn’t know if she did or not. “Katie, walk backward. Very slowly. The policeman’s waiting. Don’t turn and don’t run until I tell you to. If you do what I say, you’ll be fine.” Please, God, let her be fine. Don’t let Duke charge.

  To Isabelle’s relief, Katie took one shaky step back. Then another. And another.

  The movement seemed to annoy the bull again. He bellowed once more and stepped forward. Katie froze. Duke lowered his head. Isabelle launched the rock in her left hand, and it hit the bull in his hindquarters. He roared and spun, his focus solely on Isabelle now.

  “Go, Katie,” Isabelle cried. “Run to Grant!”

  The child obeyed and the moment she was within reach, Grant snagged her arm and pulled her behind him. “Run for the fence, Katie,” he said. “Go!” He followed her, keeping his body between the animal and the little girl.

  Katie’s little legs churned. The bull hesitated, once again seemingly undecided about what bothered him more. He swung back toward Katie, let out another angry bawl, then whipped his attention toward Isabelle. He snorted and roared his displeasure, then blew and stomped at the ground.

  Isabelle shot a glance over her shoulder and saw Mac had moved farther into the field to her left. On the other side of the fence, with the others safely behind him, Grant had his pistol out and aimed at the bull.

  “Don’t shoot him, Grant,” Isabelle said. “That little bullet won’t stop him. It’ll just make him angrier.”

  “It’ll stop him if I get him right between the eyes.”

  But his angle was off and they both knew he’d never hit the animal in the kill spot. And he most likely didn’t have time to move to a place that wou
ld afford him the right view. Mac shifted and Duke swung his head toward him, then back to Isabelle.

  What was Mac doing? She didn’t dare take her eyes from the bull to find out. The huge animal now faced her, like he’d done with Katie a few short seconds ago.

  Duke started forward, his razor-sharp horns glinting in the sunlight. Isabelle kept a tight grip on her fear and followed her own advice. She started walking backward, never taking her gaze from the animal’s. He lowered his head, snorted...and charged.

  “Isabelle!”

  Mac’s shout floated over her head.

  Isabelle didn’t run. She stayed put, shaking, trembling and watching. Waiting for the right moment as each stretch of Duke’s legs brought him closer.

  As soon as Duke was close enough that she could almost feel his breath on her face, she spun to the side and he roared past. Isabelle sprinted for the closest section of the fence. Panic clenched at her throat. It was too far. She’d never make it.

  “Isabelle, run!” Zeb’s holler echoed around her. Duke barreled toward her, snorting and blowing. She churned her legs faster...lost her footing and fell. She slammed into the ground and the breath left her. Pain rattled through her, stunning her motionless.

  The ground shook, Duke’s hooves grew closer. There was no way to outrun the best, so she froze and shut her eyes. “Please, God, rescue me.”

  And then a thunderous boom crashed through the air. She dared open her eyes and saw Mac standing in the field behind Duke, who lay on his side kicking his feet. A rope was around one of his legs, pulled tight. Mac had managed to maneuver himself behind the bull, lassoed one of his legs and yanked him down. “Run, Isabelle! Get up and run!”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. Isabelle rolled to her feet and dashed to climb over the fence. Danny threw himself into her arms, squeezing her around the waist. She looked up to see everyone’s eyes on her. “I’m okay, y’all.” She forced a smile. “That little ole bull wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”