Rescued by a Ranger Read online

  When Zane reached them, he lowered Belle to the ground and exchanged hellos with Tess. Then his gaze swung to Alex. “Waltz with me?” The new song was faster than the previous ballad but definitely three-four time.

  “All right.”

  The teenager Alex had once been—gangly and afraid of making mistakes—had never danced. But early in her marriage it had become clear she would be attending a number of formal functions each year, so she’d taken some lessons. This wasn’t a ballroom waltz, though. Zane’s movements were fluid and less predictable. It took her a few measures to abandon the programmed preciseness of her steps and simply follow his lead.

  The music washed over her, and the people around them fell away. She let her head rest against Zane’s shoulder. This was the third time she’d been in his arms. Every time she found herself here, it grew more difficult to remember why she shouldn’t kiss him.

  “Alex?” His voice was a husky murmur. She wouldn’t even have heard him over the band if she hadn’t been pressed against him. “I’m sorry for last night. I’m entitled to make decisions regarding my daughter, but I shouldn’t be an ass about it.”

  “You weren’t an ass. She is your daughter, and you’d just finished a very long drive. All things considered, you were fairly patient.” Her mouth curved in a smile. “Wish I could’ve seen her face when you told her you’d changed your mind. She’s probably already working on her essay to nominate you as father of the year.”

  “I didn’t change my mind completely. I just decided to give the kid a chance on a probationary basis.” His muscles stiffened beneath her hands as he glared across the room. “Probation or not, though, if he wants to get through the night alive, he shouldn’t be holding my daughter so close.”

  She stifled a laugh.

  “My paternal angst is funny to you?” he growled.

  “Not exactly. It just struck me as ironic, you complaining that they’re dancing too close when you and I are...” She tilted her face up, meeting his gaze.

  “Not nearly close enough,” he said.

  Heat rose within her. “Zane.” Her mouth was dry. She swallowed and tried again. “I don’t—”

  “I know. Not here. Your kid’s watching. My kid’s in sight. Hell, even my parents are here.”

  “They are?” She probably should have expected that but, not having family of her own, it wasn’t the type of thing that occurred to her.

  He cupped her chin and looked her straight in the eye. “Even with all these witnesses around, even knowing this isn’t the time or place, I still want to kiss you.”

  Her stomach did a triple somersault. Her head swam with a pleasant dizziness that made it hard to think, much less answer.

  “Big finish,” he said.

  “What?” But he’d already begun to spin her. Then, as the song came to an end, he dipped her.

  It wasn’t until they’d stopped dancing and he let go of her that she slowly regathered her wits. “Zane, your interest is flattering. And I admit, I’m very attracted to you. But...there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  “I’d like to learn,” he said.

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please!”

  “Now what?” Alex asked. “How many princesses do you people have at this thing?”

  “Different announcement,” Zane said as they reached Tess and Belle. “This is for the cooking competition that’s going to be shown on cable.”

  Tess bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. “Oh, I’m so nervous for Grace! Alex, have you been to the Jalapeño yet? Great food.”

  Alex shook her head. On stage, the TV show’s host Damien Craig, was being introduced. He outlined the prizes for which the chefs had been competing and recapped the finalists—Katharine Garner, Ty Beckett, Reed Lockhart and Grace Torres. “We thank you for your participation in our contest,” Damien said. “A lot of you voted over the past week, and those results were added to the judges’ scores. It was a tough call, but earlier today a winner was decided. And that winner is...Chef Ty Beckett!”

  The applause around them didn’t completely drown out Tess’s heartfelt “Damn.”

  Belle looked up, an admonishing expression on her pixie features. “That’s a bad word. You should say ‘barnacles’ instead!”

  “You’re right,” Tess agreed repentantly. To Alex, she added, “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

  “Don’t worry, it happens.” She didn’t share with her friend that Chris used to think it was funny to teach their daughter inappropriate phrases. Alex had tried various lines of reasoning to get him to stop. What exactly am I supposed to say down the road when I start getting calls from her principal? Chris had scoffed that when juxtaposed with a big donation to the school’s library or music department, a few swearwords wouldn’t bother anyone.

  Alex realized that Zane was waving at someone across the pavilion. “Eden and her young suitor?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Mom and Dad. I should catch up with them, commiserate about the parental torture of having your teenager date. They’ll appreciate the karmic payback after the fits I gave them.”

  “You?” Alex asked disbelievingly. “I wouldn’t have pictured you as a wild child.”

  “I wasn’t, but I fell for one. They tried to accept Valerie while we were married, but she was never who they would have chosen for me.”

  Neither am I.

  “Would you and Belle like to meet them?” he offered.

  “Another time,” she lied, hoping to postpone an introduction indefinitely. From the way he’d described them, they were upstanding civic heroes. It was bad enough she couldn’t be honest with Zane and his daughter. She couldn’t face the couple who’d raised him to be such a decent man. “Interacting with other people’s parents has always been a little outside my comfort zone,” she added truthfully.

  In her younger years, she’d dreaded meeting other people’s moms and dads because small talk usually led to well-meaning questions about her own family. When Christopher had first introduced her to his parents, she’d been so nervous she’d broken out in hives. It hadn’t helped that Eileen spent the entire conversation verbally shredding her in a futile attempt to dissuade Christopher from marrying her.

  “Is that your phone?” Tess asked suddenly, looking around to locate the source of sound.

  “Oh, I guess it is. You must have better hearing than me.” Alex fumbled through her purse. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Red.”

  “H-hey.” She shot nervous glances at Zane and Tess, as if they could somehow overhear the call—which was ridiculous. Given the decibel level in the pavilion, she could barely hear Bryce. To better block out the din, she covered her opposite ear with her hand. “Can you give me a minute to get someplace quieter and call you back?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “This has been fun,” Alex said as she put her phone away. “But Belle and I need to go.”

  “Everything okay?” Zane asked.

  She gave him a strained smile. “If we stay out too late, we turn into pumpkins. But I’ll see you soon. You, uh, still have my cake plate. Tess, thanks for your help wrangling the little one.”

  The fact that Belle didn’t object to going home demonstrated how tired she was. Even if Bryce hadn’t called, Alex would have needed to leave soon.

  “How far away are you parked?” Zane wanted to know. “I can walk you to your car.”

  “No!” She needed to call Bryce back immediately, find out if that investigator had returned and whether he might even now be reporting her whereabouts to his employers. “With the streetlights and all the people out tonight, that’s not necessary. I don’t want to cut into your time with your parents.”

  “All right. Drive safely.” He startled her by leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. Then he did the same with Belle. Alex noticed the way Tess’s eyebrows shot up and knew the dance teacher would be calling her soon.
<
br />   By the time Alex jogged the two blocks to her car, her calves burned and Belle was getting heavy. She buckled the little girl into her booster seat. From past experience and Belle’s sleepy expression, she knew her daughter would be out like a light long before they reached the house.

  She dialed Bryce. “Took me a few minutes to get away. Everything okay?”

  “Calm down. It’s not an emergency,” he assured her.

  Her immediate reaction was relief, but she cautioned herself not to get complacent. The absence of an emergency right at this moment was no guarantee on the future. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said. She’d given this a lot of thought but hated to ask Bryce for more favors. He’d already done too much for her, but if she was going to be proactive about trying to keep her in-laws at bay, she would need a loan. And a point person. “I have to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay, but me first,” Bryce said. “I have juicy news to report. Your mother-in-law, Eileen Hargrove? According to all reports, the lady is coming seriously unglued.”

  That didn’t sound at all like the chilly, poised society matron. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, ever since that P.I. knocked on my door, I’ve been doing some subtle investigation of my own. Nothing overt, just monitoring news items, making casual conversation with acquaintances who’ve been at any mutual social events. From everything you’ve told me, Eileen’s a viper, but she maintains a certain image.”

  “Right.” She cut her eyes to Belle in the rearview mirror, confirming that the little girl was fast asleep in her car seat. “She’s evil, but no one could ever accuse her of confusing a salad fork with a dinner fork.”

  “Don’t be so sure. There are pictures of her at an arts fundraiser last week where she looks pretty bedraggled. A society blogger hinted that Eileen spent more time at the open bar than in the gallery. And she got into an argument with her husband outside the Houston ballet that devolved into a screaming match before the car was brought around. From the snippets I was able to piece together, she might have been ranting about you.”

  Alex’s stomach twisted. Until now, she’d hoped the Hargroves’ tendency toward discretion would help shield her from scrutiny. They were very selective about the attention they drew to themselves and had reasons for not wanting the police involved in their lives. But if Eileen’s grief over losing her son and fury over losing her granddaughter had resulted in her becoming unhinged and unpredictable, she might come after them more aggressively.

  “This is bad,” she said softly.

  “There’s another way to look at it, Red. You said yourself that your late husband was prone to self-destructive behavior. Given time, his mother’s behavior might become detrimental enough that no sane judge would let her near Little Red.”

  “Maybe.” She couldn’t just sit here hoping for that to happen, though. “Crossing my fingers that she shows her true colors publicly isn’t really a plan. I’ve been working on something else.” She told him about the notebook she’d slowly been filling with anecdotal evidence. For instance, there had been a minor government official she’d seen at the Hargrove house on numerous occasions—always either closeting himself in the study with Phillip or quickly leaving—who’d never once approached Phillip and Eileen when they’d all been at the same functions. Why hide their association?

  “I think there might be some damning information in that notebook,” she said, “but it’s not hard evidence. I’d need someone to use my data as a starting point for unearthing more.”

  “Want to mail it anonymously to the police?” Bryce asked.

  She shuddered. “And give them reason to possibly come looking for me? It’s obvious those observations come from inside the family, and the Hargroves’ only child is dead. I can’t draw attention to myself while it’s only a woman on the run’s word against two pillars of the community. Once I have real proof, then I can go to the authorities. The problem is, I can’t currently afford a private investigator to dig for that proof.”

  “You need me to fund the investigation? Cool. I feel like a behind-the-scenes superhero.”

  His joking didn’t eliminate her guilt. “I wouldn’t ask for a loan if it wasn’t my daughter at stake. I hope you know that.”

  “You’d be a terrible mother if you put your pride before the well-being of your child! Besides, I’ve freely offered to give you money before,” he reminded her.

  Her gratitude was almost too vast to put into words. “Bryce... You’re like our guardian angel.”

  “I’d rather be your avenging angel. You finish working on that diary of suspicious characters and activities, I’ll start researching investigators. Let’s take the Hargroves down once and for all.”

  Chapter Nine

  Zane sat in the recliner, flipping through channels in an aimless search for any kind of ball game. But his mind wasn’t on the Saturday-afternoon programming. He kept thinking about the way Alex had looked last night—alluring as she’d smiled up at him on the dance floor, frightened when she’d announced it was time to go. Who had been on the other end of that phone?

  It wasn’t any of his business, yet the question nagged at him because she’d gone pale after she’d answered. He was starting to realize just how many questions he had about Alex. Having lived in this area his entire childhood and most of his adult life, he knew the people in his community quite well. So it was disconcerting to be falling for a near stranger.

  Behind him, Eden entered the adjoining kitchen, humming the country song he and Alex had waltzed to last night. Or, as Eden probably thought of it, the country song to which and she Leo had danced.

  “Thinking about your date?” he asked.

  “Um...” She opened the refrigerator. “Do you know if we have any sour cream in here? I want to make dip to go with my potato chips.”

  “I don’t think there’s any sour cream, but we’ve got some milk that’s probably gone bad. Isn’t that roughly the same thing?”

  She groaned. “Spare me your attempts at humor, Dad.” After rummaging around in the fridge for a few seconds, she reported, “We’re out of practically everything.”

  “Sorry. Guess the last time I did any real grocery shopping was when Alex and Belle came over for dinner.”

  Eden came into the living room and sprawled across the sofa, her expression wistful. “I wish Alex hadn’t left so early last night. I wanted her to meet Leo. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  “She had to take an important phone call.”

  Was that the only reason she’d exited so quickly, or had he pushed her away by being too candid? She’d said only earlier this week how bizarre it felt to be single again. What if she wasn’t ready to date yet? You shouldn’t have told her you wanted to kiss her. But it was Zane’s nature to be direct. Had he come on too strong and flustered her into retreat?

  Maybe he should take her cake plate back and see how she reacted. Of course, if she needed time and space to adjust to the growing attraction between them, showing up on her doorstep might not be the best tactic.

  “Hey, Dad? I was thinking I might call Mom tonight.”

  “That’s a great idea,” he encouraged. It would be the first time since Eden had been sentenced to Texas that she’d voluntarily initiated conversation with her mother. “Want to tell her about Leo?”

  Eden’s cheeks turned pink. “Maybe.” Then she smirked. “Or maybe I just want to tell her about how you’re finally dating someone.”

  “Alex and I are not dating.” If Alex was feeling pressured, the last thing she needed was people saying they were in a relationship.

  “You’re not?” Eden scrunched up her face in a confused frown. “But you cook her dinner and go dancing with her. How do you old people define a date?”

  At that, he leaned forward to grab a decorative pillow from the end of the couch and flung it at her.

  Eden covered her head, laughing. “Child abuse!”

  “No, I’m just following the letter of
the law. They’re called throw pillows. I don’t want to get fined for not using them correctly.”

  His daughter shot him a mischievous grin. “In that case...” She launched two in rapid succession then, realizing she’d given him all the ammo, fled the room shrieking. He was about to toss them after her when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Ben. Am I calling at a bad time?” The officer didn’t sound like his normally gregarious self.

  “I was just channel-surfing and considering ordering a pizza. What’s up?”

  “I need a distraction. Grace is destroyed over losing that cooking competition. Although, if you ask me, it’s more than the contest that’s got her upset. I think she got a little too close to one of her opponents. I called to try to cheer her up, but Amy told me neither of them wants to speak to me. Then she hung up.”

  “Ouch. You want to come over here, have some pizza with me and Eden, maybe play some Xbox football? You owe me a rematch.”

  “That might work. I still can’t drive, but Vic’s going to visit Mom at the senior center tonight. He could drop me off and pick me up. We’ll pick up a six-pack on the way.”

  Thirty minutes later, Zane took the aluminum cans so that his friend could better maneuver with his crutches. “This is your idea of a six-pack, diet cola? Very manly.”

  Ben gave him a wounded look. “You have an impressionable young lady under your roof. And, after the last month of hobbling around and not being able to exercise, I’ve, uh, put on a few pounds. My sister’s a chef,” he added defensively. “Her answer to trauma is food.”

  The reminder of Grace’s predicament put an end to Zane’s teasing. “You think she’s going to be okay? She may not have gotten first place, but she’s a hell of a chef.”

  “I know. This was just really crap timing. She’s still recovering from losing Dad and Mom’s Alzheimer’s is getting worse. If the restaurant goes under, too...” Ben shook his head.

  They got Ben and his crutches situated, and the pizzas arrived shortly thereafter. Eden hung out with them while they played their video football, alternately cheering them on and heckling them. Eventually, she excused herself to call her mom on the West Coast.