Candy Halliday - A Ranch Called Home

But Gabe managed to reel in his anger. And he met Dillard’s gaze with a deadly calm stare. “A man is only as good as his word, and there’s never been anything half-assed about mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to give Ben the chance to grow up on his own land.”

Before Dillard could comment, a loud squawk from the radio on his hip prevented his answer. He pulled the radio from its clip and clicked the button. “Go ahead, Joe.”

“They’re on the move, Sheriff.”

“Ten-four,” Dillard told his deputy. He clipped the radio back on his belt before he pulled a key ring from his pocket. “I’m going to take a chance on you, Coulter, and let you prove how good your word really is.”

“You won’t regret it, Sheriff,” Gabe promised, motioning for Dillard to hurry and open the door.

“But under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“If we stop Sara, you’ll let me do the talking.”

“Agreed,” Gabe said, and he meant it.

He’d only make things worse.

SARA BIT DOWN HARD on her lower lip when she saw the sign: Come Back to Conrad Again Soon. Lately she’d thought less and less about leaving Conrad and more and more about staying.

In fact, just last week she’d found a small furnished house for rent within walking distance of the diner. In a few weeks she would have had enough money saved to place a rent deposit on the house. Her nightly prayers had all been the same: the search for them would end and she and Ben could stop running and live a normal life.

But answered prayers were scarce in Sara’s life.

She should have gotten used to that by now.

“Don’t look so worried,” Dessie said, glancing over at Sara from behind the wheel of the dusty station wagon now headed for the border. “I know you’ve always considered Mexico your last resort, but aren’t you glad I pushed you into getting your passports?”

Sara nodded, but only halfheartedly.

The thought had already crossed her mind that applying for their passports was probably responsible for the detective finding them again. But there was no point in mentioning that possibility to Dessie and making her feel guilty about it. What was done was done.

Still, Mexico had always been Sara’s last resort.

She didn’t like the thought of living in Mexico. And she certainly didn’t like imposing on a stranger to take them in. Even if Dessie’s niece was willing to give her a job at the resort and a place to stay, Sara still didn’t like being put in the position to rely on anyone’s charity.

She’d been a charity case her whole life.

And she’d hated every minute of it.

“Just think of this as a summer vacation,” Dessie chirped with far more enthusiasm than Sara could muster. “As soon as Coulter knows you’re in Mexico, he’ll give up and stop following you, I’m sure of it. By the end of the summer, you and Ben can come back to Conrad and pick up your lives where you left off.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sara said with a sigh.

“Of course I’m right,” Dessie said with confidence.

But Sara wasn’t so sure.

So many questions kept running through her mind. What if Gabe didn’t give up? And what if those high-powered attorneys Dessie had mentioned earlier were able to extradite them from Mexico? Even worse, what if she and Ben remained stuck in Mexico indefinitely, trying to wait Gabe out?

Maybe, Sara decided, she should stopping running. Maybe she should stay in the States and take her chances in court. Fight for her rights. Prove to Gabe Coulter that she didn’t intend to run from him for the rest of her life.

Her better judgment told her to turn around.

But before Sara could relay that message to Dessie, the high-pitched scream of a siren jerked Sara’s head around.

“Why, that’s Howard Dillard!” came Dessie’s surprised cry when she looked in her rearview mirror.

Sara kept staring at the flashing blue light. “What do you think he wants?”

“I can’t imagine,” Dessie said. “But there’s a rest area up ahead. We’d better pull over and find out.”

Dessie pulled into the rest area a few minutes later, the patrol car right behind her. By the time the station wagon rolled to a stop, Ben had his seat belt unbuckled and was already climbing out of the booster seat he hated. Standing up in the backseat, he waved out the back window when two men got out of the cruiser and walked in their direction.

“It’s Uncle Gabe!” Ben yelled, and bolted from the car.

“Ben!” Sara yelled.

She jumped out of the car after him.

But Sara froze when she saw Gabe bend down to scoop Ben up. Sara wasn’t sure what worried her most—Ben looking so happy, or Sheriff Dillard looking so perturbed.

When they got close enough for her to snatch Ben away from Gabe, Sara wasted no time reaching for her son. Her gaze locked briefly with Gabe’s, but he handed Ben over without an argument.

Dessie, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time stepping in front of Sara. “What’s going on, Howard?” she demanded, looking Gabe up and down. “And what’s he doing out of jail?”

“Now, Dessie,” Dillard said, “let’s all calm down and take a seat.” He pointed to a shaded picnic table a few yards away. “Nothing good ever comes from a hasty decision. Before Sara crosses the border, I want her to know she has another option.”

“What other option?” Dessie was quick to ask.

Dillard nodded toward the picnic table again. “Like I said, Dessie, let’s all sit down like reasonable adults and I’ll tell you.”

The sheriff headed for the picnic table.

So did Gabe and Dessie.

Sara first walked to the station wagon with Ben to retrieve his toy. She pointed to a water fountain several yards from the picnic table—far enough away that Ben couldn’t overhear the conversation.

“Why don’t you take Thunder over to that water fountain so you can both get a cool drink?” Sara told him, knowing her son would play in the water for as long as she would let him.

Ben made a beeline for the fountain.

And Sara headed for the picnic table. Ben’s instant bond with his uncle had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. But she’d already made the decision that she was not going to Mexico.

She was going to stop running and fight for her son.

Mexico might come later.

If she lost custody in court.

GABE SAT UP a little straighter when Sara approached the picnic table. She refused to take a seat herself; instead she stood at the end of the table proud and erect.

He kept his word and waited for the sheriff to do the talking, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering where it shouldn’t. She was gorgeous; no doubt about that. Curvy in all the right places. A face that would make angels in heaven weep with pure envy.

But she also had a feisty streak.

He’d seen that back at the jail.

And the way she scowled now made Gabe doubt that anything the sheriff could say was going to change her mind.

“What we have here,” Sheriff Dillard said, “are two people concerned about Ben’s welfare.” He looked at Sara, then at Gabe. “Can we all at least agree with that statement?”

“No,” she said, staring straight at Gabe. “I don’t call threatening to take a child away from his mother being concerned about Ben’s welfare.”

Gabe felt the heat creep up the back of his neck.

He averted his eyes to his Stetson lying on the table in front of him. A random thought crossed his mind: the good guys always wore white hats. His hat was white. And he was trying to be the good guy in this situation.

But was he really the good guy?

Part of what Sara said was true. He hadn’t only been thinking about what was best for Ben. Gabe had been thinking about what he wanted. And he’d been determined to keep the promise he’d made to his brother.