Ranger's Baby, page 8
Duncan’s brothers, Colin and Sebastian, were seated at the table, polishing off the last of their meals.
“About time you came home,” Colin said. “We were about to dig into your portions of that roast.” He held out a hand to Sebastian. “Pay up.”
Sebastian pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed Colin a twenty. “I had you pegged for making a stop at the Blue Moose Tavern for dinner and a beer, before making the trek home. Colin won that bet.”
Mrs. McKinnon pulled a pan filled with a juicy roast out of the oven and set it on top of the stove.
The smells in the kitchen made Fiona’s knees weak.
“Sit,” Duncan said, and guided her into a chair at the table. “What do you want to drink?”
She looked up at Duncan, wanting to fall into his arms and stay there the rest of the night. “Would it be too much to ask for that beer ’Bastian was talking about?”
“There’s some in the fridge,” his mother said.
Duncan grabbed two longneck bottles from the refrigerator, twisted off the tops and handed her one.
Fiona tipped the bottle up and drank half the bottle before she turned it up and set it on the table.
“Rough day?” Sebastian asked.
“Pretty much,” she answered.
“Tell us about it,” Colin urged.
Fiona turned to Duncan. “You want to fill them in? I don’t have it in me.”
He nodded and gave his brothers and mother the digest version of their trying day.
Colin whistled. “Wally Bing’s dead?”
Sebastian shook his head. “I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“Any idea who ran him over?” Sebastian asked. “Wait, let me guess…one of the Faulkners?”
“We don’t know,” Duncan said. “The sheriff didn’t want to venture out to their place at night.”
“Wise move. They know those hills better than anyone,” Colin said.
Sebastian nodded. “And they’re skilled with long-distance marksmanship. Could have used them as snipers in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
“If you could trust them not to shoot you in the back,” Duncan added.
“Did they determine cause of death? Was it being hit by a vehicle? Or were there any gunshot wounds?”
“Didn’t see any holes in his body,” Duncan said. “But we did see tread marks across his clothing and skin.”
“Death by vehicular manslaughter.” Colin shook his head. “Wally probably got what he deserved. Now, if only the Faulkners could be served up their just desserts.”
“We’ve been trying to nail them for years, but they’re perfecting the art of dodging the law and hiding the evidence.” Fiona took another draw on the beer. Finally, she could feel the tug of a buzz pulling her away from the strain and stress of the day. She relaxed her shoulders and rolled her head around, loosening the muscles in her neck.
Duncan set his beer on the table beside hers. “Let me.” He placed a cool hand and a warm hand on the back of her neck and gently dug into her tight muscles.
Before long, his cold hand warmed as he worked out the knots and strain.
Fiona let her chin drop to her chest and moaned.
“When you’re done there, I could use a massage,” Colin suggested.
“Bite me,” Duncan quipped.
Colin snorted. “Oh, I get it, you’ll massage the pretty girl, but when it comes to a brother, you draw the line?”
“Got that right,” Duncan said, his hands working magic.
Not only was he working out the pain and stress, he was waking her up to other possibilities she wasn’t ready to explore.
Fiona lifted her head and sat up straight. “Thanks. I think I’ll live, now.”
Duncan swallowed some of his beer and crossed the room to help his mother.
Fiona’s gaze followed him, noting the way he limped slightly. She’d been so busy worrying about the break-in she hadn’t asked him about his injury.
She remembered when it had happened. Sheriff Barron had been on the phone with the Red Cross. They wanted him to notify the family of a local soldier that he’d been injured in a helicopter crash.
Fiona had been in the office filling out a report when the news came through. Her breath had lodged in her throat, and her heart stopped beating as she’d waited for the name of the injured soldier.
When Duncan McKinnon’s name had been mentioned, Fiona had felt as if she’d been sucker punched in the gut. Bile rose up from her belly. She had to swallow several times before she could ask if Duncan was all right.
The sheriff had nodded. Duncan had been airlifted out of theater to Landstuhl, Germany, where he’d been taken into surgery. The injury hadn’t been life-threatening, but he’d be shipped back to the States soon after for rehab.
The sheriff had gone out to the Iron Horse Ranch to notify Duncan’s parents.
When he’d returned, the sheriff had smiled, saying the family had already been on a video call with Duncan, and he’d assured them that he was okay and there was no need for them to fly out to Germany. He’d said he’d be up and running before long.
Fiona had breathed a sigh of relief and, at the same time, she’d wondered how truthful he’d been in his conversation with his folks.
Duncan had a habit of downplaying injuries. Since his father had been in special forces, he’d raised his children to be tough. When they fell, he told them to get up, brush themselves off and keep going. He’d expected no less of them than he’d expected of himself.
Had Fiona been able, she would have flown out to see him when he’d arrived at the military hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. But she’d had a small baby to care for and no extra money to afford the plane ticket to get there. Instead, she’d had to be content getting second-hand news from the Eagle Rock grapevine concerning Duncan’s recovery process.
She’d stopped writing letters to him after their night together because she hadn’t been able to think of anything to say when all she’d wanted to write was, I love you with all my heart.
She’d figured it would be better for him and her that he not be burdened with her soppy love while he was trying to focus on staying alive. After she’d discovered she was pregnant, she never could come up with the words to tell him. An announcement like that needed to be delivered in person.
Duncan turned toward her with two plates of food and walked back to the table.
He didn’t limp as much this time.
Fiona could tell by the strain in his face that he was working hard not to limp in front of her.
“At least you figured out who trashed your place,” Sebastian said. “As for us, we spent several hours combing the canyon, searching caves and trails.”
Duncan settled in the seat beside Fiona. “And?”
Sebastian dropped his hand to the table with a resounding thud. “Nothing.”
“Not a damn thing,” Colin agreed.
Mrs. McKinnon sighed and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I know he’s out there. I just know it.” She brought two glasses filled with orange juice to the table. “Anyone want coffee?”
“I do,” Duncan said. “But I can get it myself.”
His mother held up her hand. “Please, let me get it for you.”
“Mom, you work too hard. You should be the one sitting down.”
“No, really. I don’t need to sit,” she said and hurried toward the coffee maker.
Sebastian reached across the table and grabbed Duncan’s wrist, keeping him from getting up from the table.
Duncan glared down at the hand, and then caught Sebastian’s gaze.
His brother gave a slicing motion across his neck and whispered. “Let her do for you. She needs to stay busy.”
Fiona smiled at the concerned frown Duncan shot toward his mother’s back. Then he sank back in his seat. “In that case, thanks, Mom.”
She poured a cup of steaming brew and brought it to him.
He took it and thanked her.
Fiona reached beneath the table and laid a hand on his knee. The man loved his family. His father’s disappearance had to be killing him. But seeing his mother’s distress only added to the heartache.
His hand slipped over hers and remained, warm and comforting.
She knew how Mrs. McKinnon felt. Fiona had lost the man she loved fifteen months ago when he’d returned to active duty. Staying busy had been the only thing she could do to maintain her sanity and not let depression get her down too low.
During her pregnancy, she’d had her emotional highs and lows that went along with the hormonal changes. Carrying a baby while working as a sheriff’s deputy had had its own challenges, the least of which was being taken seriously. But she’d refused to quit. She’d had to work to save money for her recuperation after delivery.
Fiona dug into her meal, knowing she had to keep up her strength. Caity needed her, and she had a job to do. Even if she wasn’t working officially as a deputy for the next couple of days, she sure as hell was going to get to the bottom of the attack on her house and the murder of Wally Bing.
She didn’t think for a minute that Wally Bing had any reason to trash her house and threaten her to keep her mouth shut. That message on the wall had Mark Faulkner or his family written all over it.
Fiona hoped like hell the sheriff kept Faulkner in jail a little longer. One less Faulkner to deal with brought her a little closer to evening out the playing field.
It was only a matter of time before the district attorney caught wind of the fact the flashlight had gone missing. Then he’d demand Faulkner be released based on the lack of evidence.
When she was finished with her dinner, Fiona carried her plate to the sink.
Duncan followed.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Mrs. McKinnon said. “I’ll take care of them. You two need to get upstairs before Caity goes to sleep.”
“Thanks, Mrs. McKinnon,” Fiona said.
“Call me Hannah,” she said. “Mrs. McKinnon was all right when you were a child, but now it makes me feel old.” She smiled. “Or call me Mom. You spent enough time out here growing up, you might as well be one of my own.” She hugged Fiona. “And thank you for giving me the best gift anyone could ever want.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. “My first grandbaby.” She laughed. “Look at me getting all emotional.”
Fiona’s eyes welled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all sooner.”
“What’s past is past. We have a whole lifetime of love ahead of us with Caity.” She hugged her again. “Now, go before I turn into a weepy mess.”
Fiona stepped aside.
Duncan hugged his mother. “I love you, Mom. We’ll do all we can to make things right.”
She nodded. “Thank you, son. I know you all will do your best. I’ll be up later to kiss Caity goodnight.”
Fiona led the way up to Duncan’s old bedroom and eased open the door.
Someone had moved a rocking chair into the room, and Molly was sitting in it, rocking and singing softly to Caity.
The baby’s eyelids drooped, but then she’d jerk back awake and stare around the room as if she were fighting sleep.
“We’ve been rocking since we finished our bath,” Molly said softly.
“She fights it all the way to lights out,” Fiona informed her. “Want me to take over?”
Caity looked up, spied Fiona and grinned. She held out her arms and bounced in Molly’s lap.
Molly laughed. “Traitor. I see where Aunt Molly ranks in the scheme of things.”
Fiona chuckled and took Caity into her arms. “Hey, Moon Pie. You’re giving Aunt Molly a complex.”
Molly got up from the chair. “Want to sit here?”
“No thanks,” Fiona said. “I usually lie on the bed and let her wiggle and kick until she gets it out of her system. When she falls asleep, I move her to her crib.”
“Now, you tell me.” Molly nodded. “I’ll remember next time I have the pleasure of keeping her. When might that be?” Molly asked eagerly.
“I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Ruth Henson usually keeps Caity when I work, day or night. I can get her to watch Caity, if I need to.”
“Ruth’s a lovely person, but you can’t leave Caity in town without protection,” Molly said. “Not until we get to the bottom of the threat to your life.” Molly shook her head. “No, she needs to stay with us until we can be certain she’s safe. Mom and I can trade off watching her.”
“We can have one of us men stay around the house and barn at all times in case someone tries something stupid,” Duncan said, holding up a hand. “I know you can handle anything, but if you’re caring for Caity, you might not be aware of what’s going on outside the walls of the house.”
Molly nodded. “Good point. The more eyes the better.”
“Are you available to watch Caity tomorrow while I go out and question people about the break-in?” Fiona asked. She shot a quelling glare at Duncan. “And don’t try to talk me out of it. I have to do this. Caity and I won’t be safe until we resolve the issue.”
“What happened today?” Molly asked. “Did you find the man who trashed your place?”
“We did,” Fiona said and gave Molly a brief rundown of what had occurred.
When she’d finished, Molly let out a low whistle. “Wow. And people wonder how the Crazy Mountains got that name. There be crazy folk up there in those hills.” She winked, and then sobered. “But seriously, you’re going up to the Faulkners’ place? Please tell me Duncan’s going with you, armed to the teeth?”
Duncan nodded. “I’ll be there. There’s no way in hell she’s going up there alone.”
“Yeah. They’d kill her and hide the body before anyone knew she’d gone missing.” Molly sighed. “I’ve thought a number of times about the Faulkners, that they might have had a hand in Dad’s disappearance. While you’re up there, ask them where they were when someone shot William Reed.”
Duncan nodded. “I will.”
“As for watching Caity tomorrow,” Molly grinned. “Mom and I would gladly spend more time getting to know her. She’s such a happy baby.”
As if she knew Molly was talking about her, Caity batted a fist at her and giggled.
Molly caught the little fist and kissed her fingers. “Sleep tight, little one. Your mommy and daddy are so lucky to have you.” Molly left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Come on, sweetie, time for you to go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime.” Fiona laid Caity in the middle of the bed and laid down beside her.
“Mind if I join you?” Duncan asked.
Her heart leaped. “Not at all. Now that she’s learned how to roll over on her own, I have to keep a close eye on her, or she’ll roll right off the bed. I had the bed in my room pushed up against the wall to keep that from happening.”
“I thought it was just because the room was so small.”
Fiona shrugged. “That too, but mostly so I could keep Caity from falling off the bed.”
Duncan sank down on the other side of the bad and hemmed her in with his long body.
For a few joyous minutes Fiona basked in the feeling of family. Caity’s family. Mommy, daddy and baby. Her heart swelled, and she felt more optimistic about the future than she had for a long time.
Then she crashed to the earth with the knowledge it was all a fantasy. Duncan was there for Caity, not her. She had no hold on Duncan, and he didn’t want one on her.
Her eyes stung.
Damn. She couldn’t cry.
Duncan sat up. “Look, I know I could use a shower before getting too close to Caity. Do you think she’ll go to sleep before I get back?”
Caity kicked and giggled, reaching for Duncan’s shirt with her chubby little fist.
“I doubt it. She’s pretty wound up right now.”
“I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.” He disappeared from the room, leaving Fiona to get a grip on her emotions.
Why did she have to be such a mess around Duncan? She wasn’t pregnant. Her hormones had leveled out since giving birth to Caity. She had no excuse for being so out of control.
Her eyes welled again, and a single tear slid down her cheek and fell onto the comforter.
The man had a way of turning her inside out, without even trying. How was she going to get through the next few days or weeks with him around? When was he going back to active duty?
The thought of Duncan leaving again made another tear slip from the corner of her eye and land on the comforter.
Caity rolled her direction and batted her hand at her face.
“Yeah, your mommy is in love with a man who sees her as one of the guys. A buddy. A best friend. Sucks to be in the ‘friend zone’.” She laughed, the sound catching on a sob. “I’d better get over it quickly, because it does no good to cry.”
Caity, sensing her mother’s sadness, puckered up and cried.
“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” She smiled down at Caity, though her heart was breaking. “You’re okay.” Then she felt the baby’s diaper. “Well, maybe a dry diaper and some milk will make you smile.”
If only a diaper and milk worked for broken hearts as well. She chuckled at the image in her mind, lifted Caity into her arms and carried her down to the kitchen where she warmed a bottle of formula. With the baby reaching greedily for the bottle, Fiona hurried back up the stairs before Duncan turned off the water.
She sat in the bed and held Caity in her arms, letting the baby hold the bottle herself…with a little help balancing it, since it was so full.
Caity sucked down half the bottle by the time Duncan returned to sit on the other side of the bed.
His hair was still wet, like he’d rushed out of the bathroom, afraid he’d miss something.
“You want to feed her while I shower?” Fiona asked.
“Sure.” His brow furrowed. “What do I do?”
Fiona laughed. “You hold her. She’ll do the rest. If she finishes before I get back, lean her up or lay her across your shoulder and pat her back to get her to burp. Bubbles in her belly hurt.”
“That simple?” he asked, not looking all that confident. He held out his arms.
