Chapter Nine
BARRETT GRITTED HISteeth. “We might have a tail again. The maroon sedan. Or what do you call it? Bordeaux?”
“It’s pronounced ‘bor-dó.’”
Once again, half the sounds were just sitting pretty there. But he needed to concentrate on losing the tail, not on the pretty sounds coming from her lips. Just the way she rolled the R could make his head spin. He floored the gas pedal. “Hold tight.”
“Any way I can help?” Again, she sounded surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances.
He couldn’t shoot and drive, if push came to shove. But he’d need to teach her to shoot first. Would she be open to it? But he could use her help paying attention to the bord—never mind—maroon sedan while he concentrated on the road and weaving between cars.
“Keep an eye on it, please.” He put on the blinker and passed several vehicles.
“It just turned onto a country road,” she said a few minutes later.
His grip on the steering wheel relaxed. After a few moments in silence, he shared stories from his investigations that were more humorous than tragic. He wasn’t bragging about solving crimes—okay, maybe he did want to impress her—but mainly, he was eager to show her a part of his world as if it would help her to understand it better and try it on. But his lifestyle wasn’t some shoes one could try on and discard. He’d seen many of his colleagues’ marriages end in divorce.
Not a good idea. He wanted a forever kind of marriage and love and was realistic enough to know that, most likely, he’d never be able to find it. Definitely not with an intriguing heiress who might fly back across the ocean soon, who was also his client. But his stories made her chuckle and hopefully took her mind off the fact that someone might be trailing her.
Later, parked beside a thick forest glade on his family’s ranch, they finally bit into their respective hamburgers. Amazingly, the food was still warm.
“How is it?” He helped himself to the fries.
“Délicieuses frites!”
He figured it meant “delicious fries,” though he didn’t dare to pronounce the French version. He could think of something else that was delicious, like her lips.
Concentrate!
He forced himself to turn his gaze away from those luscious pink lips and pay attention to his food—and surroundings.
“I’ve never had a hamburger before. I love it. And these curly fries... Mmm. Thank you so much.” She sampled the curly fries as if they were a culinary masterpiece, then beamed at him.
Before this, he considered fries just... fries. He eyed the paper box containing crispy potato products, seeing them afresh. “Um, thanks.”
“No, seriously, thank you so much. Merci beaucoup. I never take food for granted.” She paused, and her voice dipped to a whisper. “Mom used to leave me for a long time sometimes. There wasn’t always a lot of food in the fridge.” Then she perked up and gestured around with the hamburger in her hand. “Look at this beautiful place. You’re so blessed to live here. The bright foliage on the trees is like a tapestry from many silk threads. And the sky is this amazing shade of blue.”
“Huh. I never compared foliage to the tapestry of silk... something.” The awe through which she painted the world must’ve touched him with a soft brush because his core softened.
She sipped her drink, then put it in a cup holder. Her gaze traveled over the trees, and then she squealed and clapped. “There’s a squirrel there! Can you see it? Can you? It’s so cute, right?”
“Right,” he whispered, looking at her. He didn’t see the squirrel, but he saw Zoey. And it scared him so much to realize that, in that moment, she was everything that he wanted to see.
Keep your attention on your surroundings. Not on Zoey.
Even if the squirrel couldn’t be dangerous or spy on her. Somehow, he moved his gaze away and focused as the squirrel disappeared into the foliage—or the tapestry of silk threads. “It’s an Eastern gray squirrel.”
Then she clapped again, this time holding a fry. “The bird! Did you see it flying between branches? With a reddish head and chest?”
“It’s a house finch.”
“Beautiful, isn’t it? Oh, oh. Listen! It’s a woodpecker, right?”
He managed to spot it first and pointed out the tree trunk where a little bird with the famous red cap created a staccato. “Right there. It’s a red-bellied woodpecker.”
“Oh, I see! I see! How awesome!” Then she turned to him as she munched on the hamburger again. “I know life on the ranch is a lot of hard work. I don’t want to sound like a wide-eyed city girl with no clue. But I’d love to see newborn calves and—what do you call baby horses—foals? When it’s the season for them, of course.”
“I’d love to show you.” He meant it. Her excitement was contagious, touching soft spots he didn’t realize existed in him.
If you’re still here.
Neither of them said the words.
“I’ll probably be jumping up and down from excitement if I got to pet a calf.” She giggled. “Do I sound like a child?”
“No! You sound... amazing.”
With her so appreciative of everything, it made him appreciate it, too. Made him see the world in a new way. Her life might be in danger, and yet she considered the world a beautiful, joyful place. She made the world a beautiful, joyful place.
“You sound as if everything—the sky, a hamburger, a fry, a squirrel, a woodpecker, a calf—just everything is like a miracle.” He took another bite of his hamburger and licked the ketchup that squirted onto his fingers. He could probably build a tower the size of the Eiffel Tower from all the hamburgers he’d wolfed down in his life. But this one was by far the best.
Her expression turned serious, and those doe-like hazel eyes blinked his way. “Everything is a miracle, even the air we breathe. Every breath we take is a miracle.”
“True. I just never thought about it until now.” He stared at her as his heart expanded. He was grateful to hear those words, to remember those words, and to share not only hamburgers and fries with her but also the miracle of the very air they were breathing.
She didn’t even realize she was like a miracle. A miracle in his life when he might’ve become cynical and jaded. Maybe he’d spent so much time with criminals and dead bodies until someone as alive—not the best word, but he couldn’t find a better one—and grateful to be alive and experience new things, no matter how simple, now breathed that very new life in him.
At that moment, he wanted to give her the world.
But she already had the world. With one word from Zoey, Kennedy could charter a plane to take Zoey anywhere she wanted, including back to Lazoria.
His stomach sank as his sip of raspberry soda plummeted into it. She was an heiress, and he was her bodyguard. That was all. That was all it could be. The sweet drink turned bitter on his tongue.
“An heiress with diamonds in her updo eating a hamburger in the forest. It deserves an oil painting done by one of the Renaissance masters. It would be a masterpiece,” he drawled.
But then, she already was a masterpiece. The masterpiece of God.
Barrett stuffed more fries in his mouth, feelings roiling in him he didn’t want to admit.
She waved him off with a fry. “First, we’d need a time machine for that. You know, to bring the Renaissance master here. Or me back to somewhere between the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries. Second, I’m much more than an heiress. Frankly, I’ll probably just give everything—or most of it—to Kennedy when the time comes. Which hopefully will be decades from now because I’d much rather have Dad in my life.”
He nearly dropped his drink. “Seriously? You’d give it all away to Kennedy?”
She shrugged as if it was no huge deal. “She knows what to do with it much better than I do.”
“I’m not sure I’d do the same in your place. But whatever you do, I just want you to be happy.” He meant both statements.
The food was gone—including every fry—but he was reluctant to move from this place, to let the growl of a motor ruin the whisper of the trees, even the silence between him and Zoey. He took in the beautiful scenery, both inside and outside of the car, and treasured them all.
For the first time in his life, he treasured it all.
She’d probably say he’d weave them with silk threads onto the tapestry of his memory. Or something like that. She was like a beautiful spring with clear refreshing water, like the one he’d found once in the forest when he’d been little. But he’d never want to muddy those waters.
He also needed to remember that he couldn’t be around her twenty-four seven, and no matter how much security that beachfront mansion had, Zoey also needed to be able to defend herself. The earlier idea formed in his mind. But would she be comfortable with that?
As much as he wanted to linger here, he had his obligations.
Huffing, he turned the key in the ignition. “Would you be okay with me teaching you how to shoot?”
She sent him a surprised look. So the answer was probably no. “Oh. All right.”
Regret tightened his rib cage as he drove away from the oasis that from now on would hold a special place in his heart. He’d come here again and often, though he’d be alone by then. He’d probably even bring peanuts to the squirrel and birdseed to the finch and woodpecker.
Why couldn’t Zoey complain a few times, maybe even get angry and throw insults? Then letting her go wouldn’t hurt so much.
“There’s a shooting range we can go to,” he said in a grouchier tone than he’d intended while the car jumped on a bump in the country road. “But there’ll be people there. Here at our ranch, it’s out in the open, but I can get lots of help here. People watching the surroundings for any threat.”
“I vote to stay at the ranch. I love it here.” Her voice turned wistful. “Though please don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to live in a large house right near the ocean. Kennedy was very kind to me.”
He eyed her elegant updo with sparkly things. Maybe this wasn’t his best idea. “Um, do you think earmuffs will mess up your hair?”
“It’ll be fine.” She touched his hand in a fleeting gesture, making his heart flutter, and it felt like a much-needed idea again.
“Would you like to go home and change first?” He side-eyed her fancy outfit.
She hesitated. “It’ll be fine,” she repeated at last.
He’d checked the rearview mirror often and was sure they didn’t have a tail to the forest. And he’d checked the car for a tracking device multiple times. He paid attention now, and it would be easy to spot a tail on the empty country road. So far, there hadn’t been any vehicles here at all.
He called four of his brothers on the hands-free phone and asked them to do a perimeter check and probe any possible hiding places near where they did their shooting practice. He and his brothers had used it many times before, and it was far enough from the animals not to spook them.
Minutes later, they gave him the go-ahead.
After he parked, he studied outside before leaving the vehicle and opening Zoey’s door. His heart did a treacherous jolt as she took his hand while climbing out of the luxury car. As flashy as it was, it drove well on all roads, and he’d have a new appreciation for it if not for the price tag.
“Zoey, this is my musician brother, Laredo. He can often be heard humming a tune. I’m tone-deaf, but lots of people say he’s very talented. Laredo, this is Zoey Crawford.” Barrett stumbled. He couldn’t exactly say “the most beautiful woman—magnifique!—in the world I’m falling for.” But “client” didn’t sound nearly adequate.
Before he could proceed, Zoey stuck her hand out. “I’m Kennedy’s cousin. Delighted to meet you.”
“Happy to meet you, ma’am.” With a wide grin, Laredo tipped his cowboy hat and shook her hand, then dared to wink at Barrett. “Everything looks fine. But we’ll keep watch just to be on the safe side.” He pushed his cowboy hat back.
“Laredo will be helping me by keeping watch of people at the charity gala, as well, plus Kennedy’s briefing the security. We cleared it with Kennedy. I hope it’s okay with you.” He should’ve told Zoey all this already, but they’d gotten swept up in all the other preparations.
“Of course.” Zoey smiled brightly. “I appreciate all the help I can get.”
Barrett waved at Dallas. “And this is my brother Dallas. You’ll notice most of my brothers got stuck with names of Texan cities—one of my brother’s even got named Tex. I’m named for the teensy, almost off-the-map Texan town Mom grew up in. Darius and our adopted brother escaped Mom’s obsession, but poor Dallas here didn”t. In fact, he started the trend. Might be why he’s such a frowner, but don’t let that fool you. He’s super kind at heart. He’s also the first one in the family to soon become a father, which I suspect just moved him to Mom’s favorite.” He nudged his older brother.
“Pleasure to meet you, and huge congratulations.” Zoey’s smile kept on shining, this time in Dallas’s direction. “I know my cousin married an Austin, but I don’t remember hearing about a Houston?”
“Hah!” Dallas smirked. “Mom says she saved that one, and the first grandbaby—be it a girl or a boy—has to be named Houston. I’m almost hoping we have a boy just so the name fits the little tyke better. But my wife says Houston will be pretty on a girl too. Anyway, I’m happy to meet you, too, and I’ll stay, as well. Here’s the small-caliber gun you requested.” He gave Barrett the weapon and the ammunition for it. “Kai is at his position right now, keeping watch.”
“Thanks, bro.” Barrett accepted the gun and ammunition from Dallas, then two earmuffs from Laredo.
Thankfully, none of them commented on Zoey’s designer pantsuit or sophisticated updo with sparkly thingies.
“Thank you so much!” Zoey sang out, her voice sweet with gratitude and a bit of wistfulness. “It means a lot to me that you all dropped everything to help me out.”
“Happy to do so, ma’am.” Dallas tipped his hat brim.
She turned to Barrett. “You have a wonderful family—all their hearts seem as big as the state your mom loves.”
“That I do.” And now, he had a new appreciation for them. The camaraderie with his brothers was something he was used to, something he’d taken for granted like the beauty of the sky. But not any longer.
God gave him so many blessings indeed.
Then he helped her put earmuffs on as carefully as he could, trying not to ruin her sophisticated hairdo. “Place your feet wide apart, please.”
She took the shooter’s stance, and he showed her how to handle and load the weapon.
Then he wrapped his arms around her and placed his fingers over hers. He told himself it was strictly for instructional purposes, and yet his temperature increased a notch. He could explain it by the warm air outside in the field, but that wouldn’t explain his rapid heartbeat.
This was a serious matter.
No distractions.
Easier said than done when Zoey was right in front of him. Close to him. Smelling so sweet.
“It’s going to recoil a bit, so please be prepared for it.” While he’d provided a smaller caliber weapon, he couldn’t reduce the recoil to zero. The feeling of her smooth skin under his fingers sent his temperature another notch higher.
His brothers had already set up the targets and sensibly moved away. But not too far, so they could keep watch of their surroundings.
“Just take a few shots so you have an idea. It’s okay if you don’t hit the target.” He didn’t want her to feel self-conscious. Having her so close wreaked havoc on his senses, and he nearly regretted this exercise. He needed to be on high alert with the additional responsibility of handling weapons.
He’d always taken the necessary precautions of being around rifles and guns seriously. Sadly, he’d seen too often what kind of devastating, irreparable damage they could inflict while in the wrong hands—or controlled by minds that shouldn’t have controlled weapons.
But they were also the best defense he knew, and he needed her to be safe.
Once she seemed to get the hang of it, she looked up at him, her expression indecipherable. Which was strange because usually she didn’t attempt to hide her feelings, and he was also good at deciphering facial expressions. His life sometimes depended on the latter.
“Would you mind going first?” Her voice was tentative.
“Sure. Of course.” He should’ve offered it to start with.
She probably felt insecure about something she’d never done before, and guns could be intimidating. He’d seen burly guys twice her size unsure about weapons.
He hit the targets one by one, and once he examined them, his chest puffed.
“Good job!” Laredo yelled from afar.
Dallas gave a thumbs-up.
“Take a deep breath. Steady your hand. Then aim,” he repeated the lesson. “Take as much time as you need and remember to squeeze, not pull, the trigger.”
“Okay.” She fired the shots one after another without taking pauses as if she wanted to be done with it. Then she handed him the gun. “I think we’re done here.”
Had he made her uncomfortable?
“Right. You don’t have to do this. I didn’t mean to push you into learning to shoot if you’re uncomfortable with it.”
“I’m fine, really. This was... an interesting experience.” She glanced at him, and once again, he had difficulty reading those doe-like eyes. Maybe mischief mixed with sadness?
“Let’s go back to the car then.” He forced himself to look away before he lost himself in those eyes.
He wouldn’t examine the targets because he didn’t want to embarrass her if she didn’t hit any of them. Besides, he’d only wanted to make her comfortable holding and firing the weapon. After all, if an intruder somehow managed to disable the alarm in her home and enter, she’d still be able to hit him or her from close range, right?
He gestured to his brothers to come close so they could cover her as they accompanied Zoey to the car. He didn’t want to take any chances.
“Hold on, bro! I’ll be right there.” Laredo ran to examine the targets.
They strode back to the car, and Barrett and Dallas kept close to Zoey.
Laredo caught up with them, his expression bewildered. “I’m shocked.”
Was he mocking how badly she’d done? That was unlike Laredo, but it riled Barrett’s defensive streak. “Look, this was her first try.”
“It wasn’t,” she said.
The wind played with the blonde curls around her face, and his fingers twitched to reach over and tuck them behind her ears. His pulse spiked just at the thought. Then her words registered. “It wasn’t?”
Laredo chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Barrett, you probably don’t want to hear this, but she did better than you did.” Then he whistled. “She did better than any of us could.”
“Oh, oops.” Zoey blinked.
“No, oops about it. It’s amazing.” Laredo let out a low whistle again. “You could compete professionally. Earn some titles.”
Wait, what? Barrett did his best to pick up his jaw from the grass. “I’m impressed.”
Her luscious lips curved up. “Merci.”
Maybe his male ego should’ve been hurt, but somehow, his admiration for Zoey only grew. He was trying to teach her a lesson, but he’d received one from her. He shouldn’t have considered her a helpless damsel in distress. She kept surprising him and, in the process, claiming more and more of his heart.
It wasn’t like he’d pigeonholed her to start with, but she was so right. She was so much more than an heiress. And he couldn’t wait to know more about her, and not only because she was the most complicated, fascinating puzzle he’d encountered.
He didn’t question her in front of his brothers, knowing how private she was. But this piqued his curiosity—big time.
So, once they were in the bulletproof car and she fastened her seat belt, he asked, “How did you learn to shoot so well?” He jammed the key in the ignition, revved the engine, and drove off on the bumpy farm road, still feeling as bewildered as Laredo had looked.
“I grew up with a paranoid mother who kept insisting the world was dangerous. So she taught me to shoot nearly as soon as they allowed me into the shooting range. She liked going and practicing there.” Her voice dipped a bit, and he struggled to hear her over the motor’s expensive grumble. “Maybe she imagined my father’s face when she shot. I didn’t realize it then. I thought... I thought it would bring us closer. So I tagged along to the shooting range and did my best to get good results. I felt she was proud of me, much prouder than when I did tapestries or jewelry. So I tried harder and harder at the shooting range. But it still didn’t bring us closer. Maybe nothing could.”
“I’m so sorry.” Now he understood the sadness he’d glimpsed.
He resisted the urge to reach for her hand to offer silent support as he drove. His mother was so loving and caring that he’d always imagined others were the same way. He ached to reach through the years and distance and change the life of a lonely forlorn girl in a foreign land, yanked away from the people who loved her.
“Merci. It’s not your fault.” Her voice lifted slightly.
“Not your fault, either.” He allowed himself to touch her hand. While it was a gesture of support, the jolt from it reached all the way to his heart. “From what I understand, your shooting is incredible.” It was a small consolation for all she’d endured, though. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand.
She chuckled without mirth. “I started young and had lots of practice. And it seems I just have natural skills for it. At least, that’s what Mom said. But I never had much affinity for shooting. Once... once I learned the truth about my parents, I stopped going to the shooting range. I’m surprised it all came back to me now.”
“I didn’t want to bring you bad memories.”
“You didn’t.” She met his gaze before he had to return his attention to the country road. “You wanted to keep me safe. And... it’s all part of me. I have to accept it. Besides, my shooting skills might be useful, considering the circumstances. It’s all for the best, right?”
As the smile in her voice wobbled, her every word tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to take her into his arms and promise she’d never be lonely or neglected again. That now she didn’t just have a father and a cousin, but if she wanted them, she also had him and his family.
Yet he had no right to do that. His heart constricted as he did his best to stop himself from reaching out to her again. He stared straight ahead at the farm road and the sprawling fields he loved so much, as if trying to get strength and comfort from familiar and dear surroundings.
But what did she get strength and comfort from? Her arts and crafts, probably, but what else? And was it selfish of him to want to be the one to strengthen and comfort her?
Lord, if You meant her for me, why is it impossible for me to be with her? Or did You bring her into my life only so that I can protect her? I don’t know how I’ll be able to let her go later.