Rescued by a Ranger Read online

  “Hi!” the teenager chirped. “We’re so glad you could make it. Ms. Hunt, you look really nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What about me?” Belle demanded. “Like my wings?”

  “They’re the best,” Eden answered without a trace of condescension. “Dad’s out on the deck. Belle and I can hang out in my room while you adults talk. I’ve got some of my old favorite animated movies on DVD.”

  “She likes movies, but I’m not sure you’ll be able to pry her away from the dog.”

  Dolly had come bounding to the front door, and Belle had plopped down to hug her hello. The dog was licking her face in greeting. Between fits of giggles, Belle shrieked in mock-protest.

  Alex followed her young hostess through the house. This home was smaller than the one she and Belle were staying in, cozier. The color coordination was less forced, as well. Kelsey and Dave’s house was full of a lot of cranberry, accented with lighter mauves; then there was the master bathroom in graduating shades of sea-foam that probably had names like “misty morning mint.” At Zane’s, there wasn’t so much a color scheme as a lot of sanded and stained wood paired with comfortable-looking furniture. Not fancy, but warm and welcoming.

  Like the man who lived here.

  When Alex paused to set the cake on the kitchen counter, Eden threw open the back door.

  “They’re here!” She lowered her voice to an aggrieved whisper. “If you’d bought wine like I’d suggested, this would be a good time to offer her a glass. It makes you look sophisticated.”

  Zane humored his daughter by hanging his head, seemingly abashed. But as soon as the teenager had walked away, he grinned at Alex. “I have a 2012 lemon-lime soda I’ve been saving for a special occasion. We could open that, let it breathe.”

  “Lemon-lime? No, no, no.” She indicated the plate of marinated filets next to him. “You should have red with steak. Maybe a robust fruit punch?”

  “I should’ve known that.” He slapped his forehead. “Shoot, Eden’s right. I am hopelessly unsophisticated.”

  Alex chuckled. “You’re talking to a woman whose social life is largely comprised of tea parties with teddy bears. Not that I’m complaining,” she clarified. “Sometimes I think sophistication is just an excuse to be pretentious. I’ll take backyard steaks and punch over snobby formal dinners with well-dressed hypocrites any day.”

  He leaned against the deck, his eyebrows raised. “Sound like you’re speaking from experience. Know a lot of well-dressed hypocrites?”

  “What?” She blinked, reminding herself that Zane didn’t miss much. She had to be careful about even small comments regarding her previous lifestyle. “A lot? Nah. But even one’s too many. Mmm.” She drew in a deep breath, grateful for an easy excuse to change the subject. “Sure smells good. I noticed that even from the Comers’ yard.”

  “Chili-lime shrimp appetizers.” He removed the skewers from the grill. “Figured we could snack on those while I’m cooking the main course. The potatoes and green beans are already in the oven. Fresh green beans,” he added. “My daughter was insistent. All kidding aside, can I get you a drink? Soda, sweet tea, a beer?”

  “A glass of iced tea would be great, thanks.” She followed him back inside, examining her surroundings. “I really like your place. It’s not exactly what I would have expected, but... “ She trailed off, realizing she sounded incongruously surprised for someone who’d already been here. “The first time I was over, I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  He set two glasses on the counter with a knowing smile. “Too intent on grabbing the pasta and getting the hell out of Dodge?”

  She groaned. “I’ve been a lousy neighbor, haven’t I?”

  “Well...we probably won’t be electing you onto the homeowner’s association board anytime soon,” he conceded. “But I’ve lived next to less desirable people. When I was in college, my neighbor was a guy with a drinking problem who kept locking himself out of his apartment and banging on my door at three in the morning.”

  “Wish one of my college neighbors had locked herself out more,” Alex grumbled, recalling some sleepless nights—including one immediately preceding a major exam. “Unfortunately, she kept coming home. With her boyfriend. They were not a quiet couple.”

  Zane laughed. “I gather you don’t mean they watched the television with the volume up too loud?”

  “Um.” Her cheeks warmed, and she resisted the urge to press the cold glass of tea against her skin. “No.”

  As they returned to the deck, Zane asked curiously, “What is it about my house that defied your expectations?”

  “Just that it’s so individual. I used to live in a neighborhood where all the homes looked like they’d been churned out on an assembly line. I swear I used to park in the wrong driveway some nights because I couldn’t tell them apart. Your house is nothing like Kelsey’s.”

  “This is an older neighborhood, constructed before builders began making everything so uniform. A little nonconformity can be refreshing.”

  She sipped her tea. “Glad you feel that way. You should see what my daughter’s wearing.”

  “I like what you’re wearing.” He cut his gaze toward her, then back to the grill. “You look great.”

  “Thank you.” The stab of pleasure she felt at his words forced her to admit the truth. No matter how foolish it was—and not that she would ever act on it—she was attracted to Zane. And she had enough feminine pride that she’d wanted to be attractive for him, too.

  “So.” He kept his attention on the steaks. “How do you know Kelsey?”

  Damn. Conversational land mines like that one were exactly why she’d wanted to keep her distance from Zane in the first place. But after what he’d done for her at the festival... She couldn’t ignore someone who’d helped her in a crisis. Besides, trying to pretend he didn’t live right next door wouldn’t change reality. Spending the next five months trying to pretend she wasn’t home and averting her eyes whenever they crossed paths in town would be ridiculously suspicious behavior. She just had to figure out the best strategy for times like these, when he asked her direct questions. Hadn’t she heard once that the most effective lies were partial truths?

  “I, uh, don’t know her. We’ve never actually met in person, but we have a mutual acquaintance.” She jabbed her index finger toward the plate of shrimp. “Is it too soon to try one of those? I’m starving.”

  “Help yourself, please. That’s what they’re for. How do you and Belle like your steaks?” he asked. “My default mode for cooking them is medium rare, but Eden’s been reminding me since she moved in that not everyone enjoys a red center.”

  That led to a discussion of food and swapped stories about how they’d coaxed their respective daughters into trying new dishes and eating vegetables. The anecdotes were entertaining, but ultimately superficial, the kind of thing she could have told total strangers in a pediatrician’s waiting room. Harmless small talk.

  So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that, with every passing second, a bond was forming, that she was perilously close to crossing an invisible line?

  Chapter Seven

  It was one of the best meals Alex had experienced since coming to the Hill Country, thanks as much to the company as the perfectly grilled steak. And she wasn’t the only one who’d had a good time tonight. Belle was in her element—giggling with Eden, showing off for Zane by reciting nature facts and spelling words out loud.

  “But can you spell dessert?” Zane challenged, his green eyes twinkling. “Because I think it’s time for cake.”

  “Cake!” Belle agreed.

  Eden moaned in protest. “No offense, Ms. Hunt, it looks delicious, but I’m stuffed.”

  “I’m with you,” Alex said, too full to contemplate any more food.

  “How about this?” Zane proposed. “Belle and I can take Dolly for a walk around the neighborhood. Maybe we’ll all feel like cake afterward. Does that sound okay with you?” he asked Alex.<
br />
  “Sounds perfect.” She knew he wanted to give Eden the chance to open up to her. And if there was one thing Belle got even more excited about than dessert, it was dogs. “But you had better stay right next to Mr. Zane, young lady!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Belle was the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “I’ll be an angel.”

  Zane leaned across the table toward Alex, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper. “She does have the wings for it.”

  He whistled for the dog and instructed Eden to clear the dishes.

  “I’ll help,” Alex volunteered. She rose from her chair, grinning at the picture the departing trio made as they left the house—the tall Texas Ranger, the tail-wagging mutt and the four-year-old in her bright blue boots with yellow ducks. Eden watched, too, looking less charmed.

  “Everything all right?” Alex asked cautiously. “If we’re cutting in on your time with your dad, we—”

  “It’s not that. I’m glad you guys moved in next door.” She carried a couple of plates to the sink. “But I think Dad wishes I were Belle’s age. He might like me better if I still wore tiaras and fairy wings.” Her voice was a heartrending blend of bitterness and vulnerability.

  “Your dad loves you. I can tell you that with absolute one hundred percent certainty.”

  “That’s not the same as liking me. He has to love me. It’s a parental obligation.”

  Alex didn’t comment on her own experience with that particular obligation.

  “But he doesn’t get me,” Eden said. “He treats me like a kid most of the time. I don’t think he wants me to grow up.”

  “Try to cut him some slack,” Alex advised. “It’s hard for us to watch our babies get older. I’m freaking out just at the thought of Belle going to kindergarten—the stuff you’re facing in high school is far more daunting to a parent.”

  Eden made a noncommittal sound and began filling the sink with liquid dish soap and hot water.

  Alex gathered the rest of the dishes. “If you don’t mind my being nosy, how is school going?”

  “Classes are okay, I guess. I was behind on some of my work, but I’m catching up,” she said defensively.

  “Good for you. It’s never easy to change schools midyear.”

  “Thank you!” Eden tossed up her hands, splattering suds across the counter. “Dad totally doesn’t understand. He lived here his whole life, except for the few years when he went away to college. He has no concept of what it’s like to be the new kid!”

  “He may not have firsthand experience with it, but I’ll bet he’d be willing to listen if you wanted to have a conversation about it.”

  Eden didn’t respond. Her skeptical look spoke for itself.

  “Or, if you really need to talk to someone who’s been through it,” Alex heard herself offer, “I’m available. I was the new kid in plenty of schools and different homes. Foster homes,” she elaborated.

  “For real? So you, like, didn’t have parents?”

  “I had some great foster parents over the years.” She chose not to dwell on the less than greats. “One of them explained to me that I was having trouble making friends because I seemed too angry. I didn’t understand what she meant at first. It’s not as if I was starting fights or screaming at people. I never argued with my teachers or foster siblings. But I also never smiled at anyone, never opened myself to the opportunity of making friends.”

  Eden cocked her head. “You’re saying you had a wall. To protect yourself.”

  “Something along those lines, yeah.”

  “Huh.” Eden picked up the scrub brush, muttering, “Guess he understands some stuff, after all.”

  They fell into a rhythm of washing and drying the dishes together. A few minutes passed before the teenager asked, “Are you saying that if I smile at school and let down my wall or whatever, I’ll get friends?”

  “I think it’s worth trying.”

  “What about you?” Eden looked her square in the eye. “Are you trying to make new friends?”

  I wasn’t. But it seemed to be happening anyway. “I’m friends with Tess Fitzpatrick,” she said slowly. “And, uh, your father. And you? I’d like it if we could be friends.”

  Apparently, that was the right answer. A smile lit the teen’s face, and she raised a wet soapy hand. “Deal.”

  They sealed their newfound friendship with a squishy handshake that made Alex laugh; she ignored the warning voice inside that cautioned she couldn’t build friendships with people she was deceiving.

  * * *

  “IF I’D KNOWN THE CAKE was that good, I would have skipped dinner and gone straight for the German chocolate,” Zane said.

  The girls had scarfed down their pieces and retreated to Eden’s room, leaving the adults to savor their dessert at a more leisurely pace.

  “Glad you enjoyed it,” Alex told him. “But I’m kicking myself for not remembering to buy vanilla ice cream to go with it. That makes it perfect.”

  “This was already pretty close to perfect,” he countered. The look in his eye made her wonder if he was talking about the cake or their evening together.

  She hadn’t dated since college, since before Chris. But back in her dating days, she would have considered this night perfect. The only thing missing was the kiss at the end. Her gaze slid to Zane’s mouth. She’d only kissed one person for the last decade. What would it be like to—

  Alex shot out of her chair, appalled at the direction her thoughts had taken. “Well, thanks again for having us!” Her voice was too high. What she’d meant as cheerful had come out shrill.

  He stood, too, looking perplexed. “Is that goodbye?”

  “It is a school night.”

  “Only for Eden.” He laughed. “And eight-thirty hasn’t been her bedtime in years.”

  “Right. Of course. But it’s Belle’s bedtime.”

  “One cup of coffee before you go?” Zane asked, going to the counter. He poured water into the coffeemaker. “I haven’t had a chance to interrogate you yet about your time alone with my daughter. Did she sound like she might grow to be content here, or like she was squirreling away money to hop a westbound bus?”

  “I don’t think she’s making plans to run off in the night,” Alex assured him. “She’s struggling with being an outsider, though. I let her know I was available if she needs to vent. I’ve been the new kid.”

  “And the new adult,” he teased lightly. “How are you settling in? Glad you came to Fredericksburg?”

  Tonight she was. “Yeah. But our being here is only temporary. Eventually the Comers are gonna want their house back.” She tried to make it a joke, but her voice was tinged with sadness. What in the hell was she going to do when they had to leave? Belle had been a trouper, but she was already growing attached to the people she’d met.

  “Where is it that you and Belle are from?” he asked.

  “Austin. Th-the Barton Creek area.” She and Bryce had discussed her “address” before she’d been given her new driver’s license. It was simplest to pick a place in Texas—one that wouldn’t be such an automatic link to her Houston in-laws or her partner in crime in Dallas—and she was familiar with Austin from her college days. Although, considering how much had undoubtedly changed since then, if anyone began discussing specifics, she would have to demur that her past was still too raw and that she preferred not to think about it. The real problem was what her daughter might say, but most people could overlook an imaginative four-year-old getting her facts muddled.

  Luckily, Zane’s only comment was a vague “Austin’s nice. And only a couple of hours away. Ever been to the Hill Country before this?”

  “No, but I like it here. The people are terrific.” She felt warmth rise in her cheeks. Did he know that by “people” she mainly meant him? She wished circumstances were different, that she’d met Zane Winchester in a different time or place. Because she’d grown up without a family of her own, she’d spent many hours imagining the family she hoped to one day build—which,
naturally, started with a husband. And Zane was the embodiment of all the qualities she admired. Christopher had blindsided her with his charisma and money, like some fairy-tale prince. He could have asked out any girl on campus and his single-minded courtship had made her feel so damn special.

  “Alex?” Zane had flipped the switch on the coffeemaker and was regarding her intently. “You okay?”

  She pushed away her conflicted feelings about the past, a tangle of regrets intermingled with gratitude that Christopher had given her a beautiful baby girl, and forced herself to focus. “Guess I’m just tired. One cup of coffee, but then we really should be going.”

  “Deal.” After a moment, he resumed his questions about his daughter. “Did Eden happen to mention a boy? Someone she might be interested in?”

  She propped her elbows on the kitchen island. “The conversation was more general than that.”

  “She said something today about if she were going out with a guy,” he told her. “I’m praying it was just a hypothetical statement.”

  “It may have been. But she is fifteen. You have to accept that those conversations are probably just around the corner. She wants you to treat her as a young woman, not a child.”

  “Then she has to meet me halfway, start making more mature decisions.” He straightened, looking less like a nervous father and more like a seasoned disciplinarian. “These shortsighted rebellions like not completing her work are because she’s ticked at Val and me for relocating her. She’s better than that.”

  “True. But if she cleans up her act, demonstrates real progress, would you be willing to consider certain privileges?”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve boys.” He grinned. “None of her other requests could be as nerve-racking as letting her date.”

  She almost felt sorry for him. “There was something special she mentioned before you and Belle returned. She wants to get her learner’s permit and take driving lessons.”