Ranger's Baby Page 2

  They’d landed hard and piled out, dragging the injured away from the fuselage and the ruptured fuel tank. Fire erupted before Duncan could get the co-pilot out of his seat. He burned his hands on the door handle, but finally yanked it open and pulled the man free.

  Duncan’s hands had been burned and his uniform scorched, but he’d survived the landing. He hadn’t realized he had a shrapnel wound until later, after the rescue helicopter arrived to airlift the survivors and the casualties.

  “Duncan, honey,” a woman’s sweet voice called out to him. “Duncan, wake up.”

  He blinked open his eyes and stared up into his mother’s face. For a moment, he didn’t recognize her. She didn’t fit in the harsh environment of Afghanistan hills. The land of his dreams and nightmares.

  When he shifted, he realized he was in a warm, soft bed, not on the hardpacked dirt. “Mom?”

  His mother’s brow wrinkled as she held out the telephone. “It’s Fiona. She says she needs to talk to you. It’s an emergency.”

  Duncan sat up and grabbed the phone. “Fiona?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” She hesitated. “I need you to come to my place as soon as possible.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I had a break in,” she said.

  “Did you call the sheriff?” he asked, throwing aside the sheet as he leaped out of bed.

  “I will next,” she said. “But I need you to come. We need to talk. It’s important, or I wouldn’t bother you.”

  “Fee, you’re not bothering me. I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.” He started to hang up, but her voice stopped him.

  “I don’t live by the Blue Moose anymore.”

  “Give me the address.”

  “I live on Glory Road, right across from the cemetery,” she said. “I’ll be out front when you get here.”

  “Do I need to bring a gun?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. Not yet. Hurry.”

  “I’m on the way.” He dropped the phone on the bed and shoved his feet into his jeans, wincing at the pain shooting through his bad leg. The physical therapist and the doctors had told him he’d probably have pain in that leg for the rest of his life. The Army thought the injury was enough to put him before a Medical Review Board. The outcome had yet to be decided.

  The trip home, though the reason was dire, had been a welcome respite from sitting in his apartment wondering what was going to happen to him.

  Shoving his feet into boots, he grabbed a denim shirt and ran down the stairs.

  “Everything all right?” his mother called out.

  “I’ll let you know,” he said and slammed through the front door.

  Twenty minutes later, he blew into Eagle Rock, the tail of his truck skidding sideways as he turned onto Glory Road headed for the cemetery.

  He saw her standing beside an older model SUV, wearing her deputy uniform, a worried frown on her face.

  His heart thudded hard in his chest as he came to a halt beside her and leaped out of the vehicle.

  Fiona stood with her shoulders back, her chin held high and her long, lean body looking totally badass and sexy in her uniform. Though her long auburn hair was pulled back sharply from her face into a tight bun at the base of her neck, he knew how soft, silky and curly it was and how pretty she was when she let it hang down around her creamy white shoulders.

  The last time he’d seen her, other than the brief glimpse at the airport when his brother had arrived, he’d had a few drinks with his old friend and ended up in her apartment next to the Blue Moon to sleep it off. Only he hadn’t slept it off. He’d stripped her out of that sexy uniform and made love to her.

  When he’d woken up sober, she’d been gone, having left for work. And he’d been filled with remorse.

  He’d made love with the woman who’d been his best friend since they were in grade school together. And worse, he’d had to leave to return to duty that day. Though he’d driven by the sheriff’s department, she hadn’t been there. He hadn’t had time to track her down, having to get back to the ranch to pack up and get to Bozeman Airport in time to catch his flight back to Ft. Lewis, Washington.

  He’d tried calling her, but she hadn’t answered. After a couple of weeks, he’d figured she didn’t want to talk to him. Of all the stupid things he’d done in his life, making love with Fiona, though it had felt amazing at the time, had been the stupidest. That few minutes of magic had cost him the best friend he’d ever had. And he couldn’t forgive himself for that.

  Now she stood in front of him, as sexy as the day they’d made love, if not more. Was she just a little curvier? Fiona had always been an athlete, with a long, lean body made for running and hard work. She could sling an eighty-pound bale of hay with the best of them.

  He got out of his truck and came around the hood to stand in front of her.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  Duncan hesitated a split second then grabbed her arms, pulling her into a tight hug. “Hey, yourself.” He said, pressing her to him, loving the feel of her against him. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, her forehead leaning against his chest. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “I should have been up already.” He set her at arm’s length and stared down into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone broke into my house,” she said. “Sheriff Barron is on his way.”

  “He should have been here already. He’s closer than the Iron Horse Ranch.”

  Fiona stepped back until Duncan was forced to drop his hands from her arms. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I wouldn’t have called you, if I didn’t think it was important.” She turned away from him and opened the back door of the SUV and reached in.

  When she straightened, she had a baby in her arms.

  Duncan’s heart dropped to his belly. “You have a baby? Did you get married in the past year?” The thought of Fiona with another man didn’t sit well with him. And the baby was so small. It couldn’t be a year old.

  “No, I didn’t get married in the fifteen months since you left.” She turned the baby so that he could see her face.

  “Hey, sweetie,” he forced himself to say and touched the soft skin of her cheek, regret tugging hard at his heart. This little girl could have been his, had he stuck around. “Too bad she didn’t get your red hair. But she’s got your green eyes.”

  “No, she takes after her father. He has brown hair and green eyes.” Fiona shook her head, her frown deepening and the corners of her lips quirking upward. “She’s six months old, Duncan. Do the math.”

  He stared at the baby who had dark brown hair and green eyes, his head spinning, his mind unable to grasp what she was saying. An intense feeling of anger toward the man who’d given her a child, blinding him to anything else she might say. “I don’t understand.”

  “It takes nine months to have a baby. She’s six months old. That’s fifteen months all together.”

  Duncan couldn’t think past Fiona having moved on after they’d made love.

  Fiona closed her eyes, inhaled and let it out slowly. “Duncan, meet Caity. Caity, meet Duncan McKinnon…your daddy.”

  Chapter 2

  Fiona could see the moment it hit him. Duncan staggered back a step, his brow descending into a wicked scowl. After an excruciatingly long moment, he spoke, his voice gravelly, “Don’t mess with me, Fee.”

  “I wish I was. I should have told you a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure how.” She held out Caity. “This is Caity. She’s your daughter.” Fiona shoved the baby into his hands and moved backward, forcing him to take the child.

  “Wait. What do I do with it?” He held Caity out in front of him, his eyes wide.

  “You hold her, hug her and love her. She’s an incredibly smart and happy baby.”

  As if to prove her wrong, Caity’s bottom lip jutted outward and her face wrinkled.

  Duncan’s eyes rounded with a look of abject fear. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “You’re scaring her. You need to hold her close. She likes to be held close.” Like I do, Fiona wanted to add, but bit down hard on her lip to keep the words from coming out.

  Duncan pulled the baby close to him and curved his thickly muscled arm around her back. “Like this?”

  Quickly, Caity’s pouty lip receded, and she stared at the man holding her, her eyes wide. She reached up and grabbed his ear.

  Fiona chuckled. “Like that. It’s not that difficult. If I could learn, so can you.”

  “But you’ve got six months on me,” he said.

  Fiona swallowed hard at the bile rising up her throat. “I know. And I’m truly sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Again. I didn’t know how.”

  Duncan looked at Caity, shaking his head, his brow furrowing. Then he looked past his daughter to Fiona. “Six months.”

  “I know.” Fiona’s heart squeezed hard. “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. You were drunk. I took advantage of you, and then…I didn’t want to tie you down. You had your career. I had to deal with the consequences of my rash actions.”

  Duncan’s scowl remained in place. “Consequences? A baby is not just consequences.”

  Fiona threw her hands in the air and spun away. How much more could she screw up this conversation? “This isn’t how I’d planned to tell you.”

  “And how did you plan to tell me?”

  She shook her head and turned back to him. “I don’t know. That’s been the problem all along. After you left, I thought…” Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I thought.”

  Caity, apparently sensing the couple’s distress, puckered up and let out a resounding wail.

  Duncan’s frown disappeared, and a look of panic filled his face. “What did I do? Did I hurt her?”

  Fiona reached for the baby. “No. You didn’t hurt her. She’s very sensitive to moods. She knows when I’m angry or sad.” She smiled at Caity and bounced her in her arms. “Hey, sweetie pie, it’s okay. We’re not mad, are we?” She shot a glance at Duncan.

  Duncan frowned.

  Caity cried louder.

  “You’re still frowning,” Fiona said. “You’ll have to do better than that to convince her.”

  “How am I supposed to do anything else? I just found out I’ve had a kid for six months. Six months I can’t get back.”

  Caity cried louder.

  “Shh, sweetie. He doesn’t know how much that upsets you.” She kissed Caity’s brow. “He’s really not all bad. Give him a chance.”

  Duncan’s frown smoothed, and he lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. It’s not every day a man is pulled out of bed on an emergency call only to find out he has a baby.”

  At the smooth, calming sound of Duncan’s deep voice, Caity’s wails simmered to sniffles.

  “I know,” Fiona said. “I’d planned on telling you later this evening, after I’d had a chance to sleep.” She turned toward the house. “But I came home to an intruder.”

  Duncan spun toward the house.

  “Don’t worry. He’s gone.” Fiona shifted Caity to her hip. “But he trashed my house.”

  The sheriff chose that moment to pull up in the driveway and got out.

  He held out his hand to Duncan. “Duncan. Good to see you.”

  Duncan shook the man’s hand. “You too, Sheriff.”

  “I’m sorry to report that we haven’t had a single lead on your father’s whereabouts.”

  Duncan’s jaw tightened. “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”

  The sheriff nodded. “We are. Got the state police working with us, and we’re checking into every person we can find who has ever come in contact with Reed.”

  Duncan nodded. “Thank you.”

  Sheriff Barron glanced from Duncan to Fiona.

  Fiona nodded. “He knows.”

  Duncan shoved a hand through his short-cropped hair. “You knew?”

  The sheriff nodded. “Caity looks like a McKinnon.” He chucked the baby beneath the chin. “Don’t ya, honey?”

  Caity grabbed his finger and giggled.

  “But I’m not here to go over that,” the sheriff’s brow dipped. “What happened here, Guthrie? And why didn’t you call me first?” He said, eyeing Duncan then turning toward Fiona’s house.

  Fiona led them up the steps and stood to the side as Duncan and Sheriff Barron entered the house.

  Duncan swore.

  Fiona fought to keep from telling him not to swear in front of the baby but figured it wasn’t the time. Besides, other than baby babble, Caity hadn’t started talking. But she would soon.

  Fiona stepped in after the men and stood beside the butcher knife stuck in the wood floor.

  “The intruder threw that at you?” Duncan asked.

  Fiona nodded. “I’m just glad Caity was in the car. Normally, I walk in with her.”

  Duncan’s face grew hard, his lips thinning into a line. “Did you see who it was?”

  She shook her head. “He wore dark clothes, and a ski mask covered his face.” She nodded toward the back of the house. “He ran out the back and rode off on what sounded like a motorcycle.”

  The sheriff and Duncan walked through the house to the kitchen.

  Fiona hadn’t seen all the damage to her place because after she’d confronted the man in the ski mask, she’d remained outside with Caity in the vehicle until Duncan had arrived. She hadn’t felt comfortable going back inside with Caity without backup, and she hadn’t felt right leaving her daughter alone in the vehicle while she inspected the full extent of the damage.

  Every drawer in the kitchen had been pulled out and dumped on the floor. Half of the upper cabinets had been emptied onto the floor, including her glasses and dishes. Broken glass and plates littered the floor.

  Her heart lurched and sank to the pit of her belly. She hadn’t had much to begin with. Now, she had less.

  Squaring her shoulders, she waited for the men to enter the small bedrooms.

  Duncan walked into Caity’s bedroom and swore again. The crib had been dumped on its side, the mattress flung across the floor. Stuffed animals had been decapitated, the stuffing lying in puffs of white.

  Caity leaned toward her favorite pink elephant. The arm had been ripped off and an eye was missing, but Fiona scooped it up and handed it to her. “I’ll fix it, baby. Don’t you worry.”

  She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled, and her eyes stung. Who could be so vicious they’d destroy a baby’s room?

  When she entered her own bedroom, Fiona gasped.

  Written in bright red spray paint across the gray-blue wall were the words, Shut up or die.

  Duncan turned toward her and pulled her into his arms, Caity and all. “You can’t stay here.”

  She shook her head. “This is our home. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “You’ll come stay at Iron Horse Ranch.”

  Fiona shook her head. “No. I can’t do that.”

  “If not for yourself, do it for Caity,” Duncan insisted. “You can’t stay here, just you and Caity. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Ruth lives next door. She takes care of Caity while I work.”

  “Then she can stay at the ranch as well.”

  The sheriff turned to Fiona. “Duncan’s right. This isn’t some random break-in. Whoever hit your home targeted you specifically. And I have a suspicion I know who.”

  Fiona’s teeth clenched, and she nodded. “Me, too.”

  “The Faulkner Clan,” the sheriff stated.

  She nodded again.

  “Barb Faulkner’s bunch?” Duncan asked. “You mean someone hasn’t killed them yet?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “That bunch has been up to no good for decades. But every time we get something on them, the evidence miraculously disappears, or the witness ends up dead or in a coma.”

  Duncan stared at Fiona. “Please don’t tell me you witnessed one of them committing a crime.”

  She grimaced. “I witnessed Mark Faulkner threatening to kill Clay Bennett.”

  “Clay Bennett?” Duncan frowned. “The former football linebacker, Clay Bennett?”

  Fiona nodded. “He was found dumped in a ditch along the highway heading south out of town. He’d died of blunt force trauma.”

  “Someone had beaten him to death,” the sheriff said. “The man had bruises all over his body, and his skull was cracked in several places.”

  “The first officers on the scene found a heavy-duty flashlight near the body,” Fiona said.

  The sheriff shook his head. “We had it locked up in the evidence locker, but it went for a walk sometime yesterday. The flashlight was supposed to go to the state crime lab for examination. We’re working on how that got misplaced.” The sheriff’s face was grim. “All I gotta say is heads are gonna roll when I find out who let that cat out of the bag. I have a feeling we were finally close to putting one of those dirtbags out of commission for good.”

  “Can your testimony about hearing Faulkner threatening Clay be enough to put him in jail?”

  Fiona shook her head. “Not without hard evidence. Anyone can say they’re going to kill someone. Until we have solid evidence, hearsay won’t hold up in court. And we had it, until yesterday, fingerprints and all.”

  “Surely they know that.” Duncan stared up at the writing on the wall. “Then why did they threaten you?”

  “The Faulkners haven’t always been the sharpest tools in the shed,” Sheriff Barron said. “Could be they didn’t know the evidence is missing. I’m sure your intruder had orders to threaten you before the flashlight disappeared. He had to have been watching your house and Ruth’s next door to know when they were both empty. If the Faulkners knew the murder weapon had gone missing, they might not have thought to cancel the order to terrorize you. Barb’s minions carry out their orders or suffer the consequences. She rules the roost with an iron fist.”

  “Guess I’ll be knocking on her door next,” Fiona said.

  “Not without backup,” the sheriff said.

  “But you agree, we need to look for who stole the flashlight and for who might be in possession of a can of red spray paint and a black ski mask.” Fiona met the sheriff’s gaze.