Rescued by a Ranger Page 13

  “I did overhear you say your name was Alex Hunt?” Zane’s mother verified.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How serendipitous! I’ve been wanting to meet you. Dorothea Winchester.” She extended her hand and shook Alex’s with a good strong grip. Then she knelt down to beam at Alex’s daughter. “And you must be Belle. My granddaughter Eden told me about you.”

  At the mention of her idol, Belle lit up. “You know Eden? She’s my friend! I want pink hair like hers.”

  “Maybe when you’re older,” Alex said.

  “Five is older,” Belle reasoned. “I’ll be five soon.”

  “Older than five.”

  Dorothea chuckled. “What brings the two of you to Gunther Gardens on a Wednesday afternoon?”

  “A potential customer,” Alex said. “I do some seamstress work. Belle is going to color quietly while I meet with Mrs. Melburne. Isn’t that right, Belle?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Alex said awkwardly. “I should really—”

  “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Dorothea asked. “After you talk to Mrs. Melburne. We have a lovely cafeteria here with all-day bakery selections. They have fantastic c-o-o-k-i-e-s,” she added with a glance at Belle.

  “That’s very thoughtful, but—”

  “Wait until I tell my husband, Fred. This will perk him right up! It was such a bitter winter, and he wound up with pneumonia. It dragged on for weeks! He’s better now, but his energy’s still not at one hundred percent. He couldn’t even make it through a whole song with me at the dance last Friday.” She tapped her lips, looking distracted. “Maybe it would’ve helped if I hadn’t picked such a fast number. He’ll be excited to hear we finally get to meet the mysterious Alex Hunt.”

  Shoot. Was she really going to disappoint Zane’s charming mother and the recuperating Fred?

  Alex smiled in spite of herself. “You know, you remind me a lot of your son, Mrs. Winchester.” I have trouble saying no to him, too.

  * * *

  THE FRESH-BAKED COOKIES in the cafeteria did not disappoint. Alex mustered her self-discipline to keep from going back for a second white-chocolate-cranberry-macadamia-nut square.

  “My son’s mentioned you several times over the last couple of weeks,” Dorothea said. “We were sorry to hear we’d just missed you at the festival dance.”

  “I had to get Belle home to bed,” she said, feeling guilty anew for having weaseled her way out of meeting the Winchesters. They were every bit as good-hearted and decent as she’d expected after hearing Zane talk about them. “Zane speaks so highly of you both. I understand you were a fireman, Mr. Winchester?”

  “Call me Fred.” He turned to Belle. “Have you ever seen a fire truck up close? I still have some buddies at the station. Maybe you could visit sometime.”

  Belle leaned forward eagerly. “Don’t all fire stations have those spotted dogs?”

  “Dalmatians? Not these days. But they used to.”

  “She loves dogs,” Alex said. “In fact, that’s how we met Zane. Dolly introduced us.”

  “Want to meet one right now?” Fred asked. “If that’s okay with your mama, of course. My bridge partner lives on this floor and he has a friendly long-haired chihuahua.”

  “A chihuahua?” Belle looked nearly delirious with glee.

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked. “Belle can be...a handful.”

  Fred stood, holding his hand out to the girl. “I’m sure she’ll be an absolute angel. Won’t you?”

  “Yes! I promise! Please, Mommy.”

  “Five minutes,” Alex allowed. “That will give Mrs. Winchester and I enough time to finish our coffee. But then you have to come right back, no whining.”

  She watched them walk away, the burly silver-haired gentleman with her daughter skipping alongside him, and felt her eyes mist. This was what grandparents were supposed to be like. When Alex’s long-ago classmates had talked about baking Christmas cookies with “mimi” or going fishing over spring break with “papa,” she’d envied them their extended families. As she’d grown older, she’d consoled herself with the hope that at least her own children would someday have that cross-generational bond she’d missed. Yet here she was, hiding her daughter from her grandparents.

  Dorothea also watched the pair go. “Now that we don’t have little ears at the table, may I speak frankly, dear? I hope this isn’t too forward, but my son seems quite taken with you. Does my old heart good!”

  “Th-thank you,” Alex said uncertainly. “Zane is a very special man, and you should be proud of him. But we’re not...involved, exactly. We’re just neighbors.”

  “Yes, he was quick to point that out, as well, once he realized just how much he’d been talking about you. His interest in you is far more than neighborly.”

  “He said as much,” Alex admitted. “But Belle and I are in delicate circumstances. She still misses her father, has nightmares about his death. It might not be healthy for her to become overly attached to another man right now.”

  Dorothea ducked her head. “Oh, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Fred’s always fussing that I’m too nosy. But where my son’s concerned... You’re a mother. I’m sure you understand the need to look out for your child.”

  “Completely.”

  “No matter what happens between the two of you, it’s a relief that he’s taken romantic notice of someone again. It’s been so long since that horrible Valerie, and I was afraid he’d never get over it. Not that he’s still hung up on her,” she was quick to add. “But he struggled with getting over her betrayal. He was sensitive when he was younger, always bringing home stray animals in need of rescue, standing up for smaller kids who got bullied. It’s true that Valerie had a rough home life, but is that any excuse for her becoming a calculating, manipulative liar?”

  Because Dorothea paused, Alex obligingly answered “no,” but it was clear the question was rhetorical. Zane’s mother had made up her mind about his ex-wife years ago.

  “He wanted to believe that, with enough love, he could help her, like one of the abandoned puppies he found homes for or the injured baby bird he’d nursed to health. I suppose his teenage hormones and her being gorgeous complicated matters.”

  Alex squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable with hearing the personal details of his past. “Mrs. Winchester, are you sure you should be telling me all this?”

  Dorothea considered the question. “Yes, I believe I should. Because I want you to know what a good thing it is you’ve done. Zane doesn’t have a deceptive bone in his body. My boy is honest to a fault, and he just couldn’t wrap his mind around her lying and infidelity. When he finally had no choice but to accept that she was far more duplicitous than he could have guessed... The whole debacle left him so disillusioned I was afraid he would never trust again. But now he’s met you.”

  Her misplaced faith was like a paper-cut across the heart, each word a small but brutal slice. Alex scraped her chair back and rose. “The cookies and coffee were wonderful, but Belle and I really should be going. If you could point me in the direction of your friend’s apartment?”

  Dorothea nodded. “I hope we meet again soon, though. Perhaps we can all have dinner at my son’s.”

  Doubtful. Even though she’d promised Zane she’d consider his offer of a date, after this eye-opening conversation with his mother, Alex knew she couldn’t do it. He wanted her to explore the possibilities of what could happen between them—but she already knew the inevitable conclusion they’d reach.

  Zane liked for the good guys to win and for stories to have happy endings. Theirs wouldn’t.

  * * *

  WHILE BELLE WAS IN HER dance class on Thursday, Alex distributed birthday party invitations to the other waiting moms. Other than her fellow aspiring ballerinas, the only friends Belle wanted at her party were the Winchesters and a seven-year-old named Trixie Hollinger who lived one street over. Trixie and her mom often passed the house while Trixie practiced he
r bike-riding skills, and Nicole Hollinger had brought Alex a cheesecake to welcome her to the neighborhood.

  Last night Belle had suggested adding two more guests to the list. “Shouldn’t we ask Zane’s mom and dad? He might be sad if they’re not there.”

  “No, it’s a party for kids,” Alex had said. “Even though Eden’s a big kid, she still counts. Are you sure you’re not just trying to get an extra present out of it?” Then she’d tickled her daughter to divert her, pasting on a smile even though she felt depressingly unscrupulous.

  Alex had lain awake staring at the ceiling and wondering if it would be better to wait until after the party to turn down Zane—which seemed unfair to him—or to get it over with as soon as possible, even though that might create friction between them at what was supposed to be a festive celebration. There were a lot of things wrong in Belle’s young life, and Alex was determined her daughter would have a fun birthday.

  At the ballet studio viewing window, Alex tried to cheer herself up by watching her daughter run from one corner of the studio to the other, doing a succession of jumps across the middle of the floor. Other girls stood in line waiting their turn, all of them smiling while Tess called out encouragement. When the cell phone in her pocket rang, Alex stepped away from the window.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.” Zane’s voice was tense. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” Had he heard about her meeting his parents yesterday? “I’m just waiting for Belle to finish up dance class.”

  He wasted no time getting to the point. “There’s a kidnapping situation a couple hours south of here, and I’ve been called in to help. Rangers have jurisdiction across county lines, and the suspect is affiliated with a gang I’ve studied. I can call Mom and Dad to see if Eden can stay with them overnight, but since the school bus doesn’t exactly go to the senior center—”

  “Of course she can stay with us! Do you have any idea when you’ll be back?”

  “Hard to say for sure. I’ll leave her a message at the school and let her know you’re expecting her. Thank you, Alex.”

  Belle was ecstatic when both Eden and Dolly came over that afternoon. The little girl played out back with the dog while Eden phoned a classmate about their Shakespeare assignment. Afterward, the teen helped Alex chop vegetables for the salad.

  “I don’t actually mind reading Shakespeare,” Eden said, sounding surprised by this discovery. “Once Beckie explained a few of the jokes to me, I realized some of his stuff’s pretty funny. But I can’t believe Mr. Gruen is making us stand up in front of the class to perform memorized monologues!”

  “I took an entire semester on the Bard in college,” Alex reminisced. “I’ve always loved his plays.” She’d never seen one performed live until Chris had taken her to Romeo and Juliet for their first date. In hindsight, maybe she should have taken the double suicide as a bad sign.

  “I’ve been thinking about college lately.” Eden flushed. “I know, I’m only fifteen, but—”

  “It’s never too early to plan ahead! I think it’s great. Are you trying to decide what type of schools to apply to?”

  “More like I’m trying to decide if there are any that will take me,” she mumbled. “I’ve really screwed up.”

  Alex put a hand on the girl’s arm. “Like you said, sweetie, you’re fifteen. Most mistakes at your age are fixable. It’s not too late, as long as you make a real effort over the next couple of years. Are you willing to do that?”

  Eden nodded emphatically. A moment later, she added, “I like Leo and this group of girls in my lit class. They ask my opinion and treat me like I’m smart. They don’t just use me as a lookout so they can shoplift jeans. I still miss California, but most of my ‘friends’ there haven’t even bothered to answer my emails. Do you think they just liked me because I thought up the best excuses for teachers and Mom usually had enough alcohol around that she didn’t notice if a little bit went missing?”

  “If that’s what they appreciated about you, then they’re idiots.”

  “Guess my hanging out with them was pretty idiotic, too.” Eden lowered her head, her hair swishing forward to obscure her glum expression. “I just felt really alone. Dad was back here...I don’t have brothers or sisters. Mom can be cool sometimes, but mostly she’s on her own planet. I wanted to fit in, be close to people.”

  “Been there,” Alex said ruefully. She often thought that was why she’d fallen in love with Chris—not because he was rich or good-looking or flirtatious, but because he’d made her feel truly connected to someone else for the first time. While their marriage had ended in disaster, he’d given her some treasured memories and, more importantly, their daughter. “The thing is, even when we screw up, a lot of times something good comes out of it.”

  “Like moving here? I didn’t want to come, but now, I dunno, I kind of like it. I might even apply to colleges in Texas. Think my dad would be happy about that?” she asked shyly.

  “He’d be over the moon.” Alex felt so proud of the young woman and couldn’t wait to hear Zane’s reaction to Eden’s progress. While the girls set the table, Alex even reached for her phone to call him but stopped herself. If he was working a kidnapping case, someone’s life could literally be on the line. Promising news about Eden’s changing attitude could wait.

  She and the girls ate spaghetti for dinner. By the end of the meal, her daughter was covered in tomato sauce. Alex gratefully accepted when Eden offered to help run Belle’s bath and wash her hair.

  Deciding the dirty dishes could wait a few minutes, Alex plunked down on the couch with a cup of hot tea and the TV remote. Normally her viewing choices revolved around having a four-year-old in the house. With the girls upstairs, she took advantage of a few minutes to watch a sitcom for adults. But she never got the opportunity to relax. During the commercial break, a grim-faced reporter gave an update on a hostage standoff, promising more details on the night’s later broadcast. The preliminary facts were that a woman and her child had been kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend, an alleged gang member, and two of his associates. As police officers had started to close in on the kidnappers, the criminals had holed up in a small family restaurant, taking the staff as hostages.

  Alex sat bolt upright on the edge of the sofa. Was this the situation Zane had mentioned? When he’d called her that afternoon to say he needed to work on a case, she’d imagined him in a police station conference room somewhere, consulting in front of a whiteboard. But an armed standoff involving multiple gang members and innocent bystanders? Now she was picturing SWAT teams and a shoot-out.

  Oh, God. She rubbed her suddenly damp palms over her jeans, then turned off the television. Eden didn’t need to see her father on breaking news! She would worry the rest of the night. Was he all right? Was he in jeopardy?

  When Alex caught herself chewing on her pinky nail, a girlhood habit she’d long outgrown, she determined that it was time to clean the kitchen, after all. Keeping busy—that was key. Her movements brisk, she loaded the dishwasher, then wiped down the counters with antibacterial cleaner. Twice.

  “Girls?” she called through the ceiling. “You about done up there?” She needed the distraction of company.

  “Almost,” Eden responded. There were footfalls over Alex’s head, punctuated by occasional giggling.

  Belle is loving this. Alex’s daughter had been born via emergency C-section after scary labor complications, but even before then, the OB had suggested gently that perhaps Alex’s body wasn’t meant for pregnancy. She’d agreed to a tubal ligation after her cesarean. Although Alex had come to terms with having only one child, she’d wondered more than once if her daughter would have preferred being part of a larger family. She recalled Belle’s wistful tone when she’d said, Eden could be my sister.

  Alex hoped the happy memories they stored up during their time here would be enough to help get them through whatever came next.

  The girls appeared downstairs, Belle fresh scrubbed with her damp r
ed curls plastered to her face and wearing mismatched pajamas. Eden had also changed into cutoff sweatpants and a faded blue T-shirt that was so big it probably belonged to her father.

  “My clothes got a little wet somehow,” Eden said wryly.

  The three of them played the junior version of a popular board game, and Alex rationalized that, since they had a guest, Belle could stay up a little later tonight. It wasn’t until Alex caught Eden smothering a yawn that she realized just how late it was and acknowledged that she was using the kids’ company to keep from obsessing over Zane. Bad mother.

  “It’s been fun, ladies, but I think it’s time for people to turn in. And by people,” she said, tapping the end of her daughter’s nose, “I mean you.”

  She supervised as Belle brushed her teeth, then tucked her into bed.

  “Can Eden read me a story?” Belle pleaded.

  “Just one. And it has to be short.”

  After Belle was asleep and Eden had retired with a young adult novel, Alex turned on the news, lowering the volume to a barely audible decibel. She wished Zane had called this evening, so she’d know he was all right, but he was busy trying to save lives right now. Her heart went out to the victims, especially the young mother who must be terrified for herself and her child.

  The anchorman reported that the kidnappers had fired shots earlier in the day, grazing one federal agent, but all of the hostages were purported to be alive and well. The reporter also cited an interview with an unnamed source who’d said the kidnapped woman was an informant against the gang, that the kidnapping had been retribution. Alex stayed glued to her television, praying for a safe outcome, but between updates, her eyes grew heavy.

  At some point, she must have dozed off, because she was asleep when her cell phone rang at 4:00 a.m.

  * * *

  ZANE COULDN’T REMEMBER ever feeling more tired—his fatigue went straight down to his soul. He could have stayed at a hotel for a few hours, got some sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t start to feel better until he was back with his daughter. And Alex. It had been a foolish impulse to call her at this hour, but he’d wanted to check in and tell her he was almost home. More, he’d needed to hear her voice.