Margaret Daley - Lone Star Christmas Rescue

The police were looking for Kay and the baby and would call him if she was found. Even knowing that, he’d driven around the area surrounding the hospital in search of the two for the past hour. He’d be back out there tomorrow morning. In his gut, he felt Kay was in danger. From where—or whom—he didn’t know. Between working on the Moore murders and the task force, he knew he needed to find Kay.

He climbed from his black SUV and stood next to it, staring up at the clear sky with stars scattered across the darkness as if they had been tossed haphazardly. The light breeze blew across the flat land, the temperature dropping into the forties.

Would Kay and the baby be warm enough?

Why had she run?

Why hadn’t she called him?

“Son, is something wrong?” his father’s deep gravelly voice called out.

Drake pivoted toward the front porch. “A long day.” He hated bringing his work home. The only reprieve he had from his job was when he came to the ranch at the end of the day.

“Anna saved dinner for you.”

Anna Torres had been with the family for years as a housekeeper and cook. She’d often declared taking care of three men was more than a full-time job. “That sounds great. I forgot to eat lunch.” Because he’d been driving back to Big Bend. He’d totally let it slip his mind until his stomach began to rumble about an hour ago.

“She fixed a plate of double portions before going to bed.”

Drake mounted the steps to the wraparound porch that faced south and east. “I sure missed her cooking when I lived in Fort Worth. That was one of the reasons I changed to Company E—I was dwindling down to nothing.” He’d certainly taken into account being back where he grew up and living with his dad, but the main reason he had taken this assignment was to be part of the human trafficking task force.

Chuckling, his father patted him on the back. “You didn’t take long adding a few pounds to your frame.”

“I blame that all on Anna.” Drake opened the front door and waited for his dad to go first.

In the kitchen, his father pulled a plate out of the refrigerator and stuck it in the microwave to heat up. “I thought you were going to ask the young woman you rescued yesterday to stay here while she recovered.”

When they’d spoken last night, Drake had mentioned he might ask her, especially if no one came forward to help her. “I didn’t get a chance to ask her. She left the hospital before I returned to her room.”

“Why would she do that? Didn’t you say she couldn’t remember who she was? Did that change?”

Had it, while he was investigating Clarence and Susan’s murders? Was that why she was gone? “I don’t know, and I don’t have a good feeling about this. I think someone is after her and is possibly willing to kill to find her.” The more he thought of the couple’s murder and the fact a stranger had come into her room, the more he felt Kay was in trouble. When he left her, she hadn’t given any indication she would flee. In fact, she’d seemed to appreciate his presence—a familiar face.

The microwave beeped at the same time the back door opened, and his younger brother, Frank, came into the kitchen, plopping his cowboy hat on the peg by the door. “I see you arrived about the same time I finished unloading the hay.”

Drake grinned. “Yep, I parked by the gate and waited until you were through. Why do you think I have a pair of high-powered binoculars in my car?”

His brother tossed back his head and laughed. “I always thought because you were a Texas Ranger you needed them for your job, but now I know the truth. Next time I’ll keep the barn doors shut so you can’t see in.”

Drake took his plate out of the microwave and sat at the table. “How’s Blue Bonnet?” The mare had been his mother’s horse, and ever since their mom died two years ago, Frank had taken extra care of the pinto their mother had loved.

“She fractured her leg and the vet had to set it, but she should heal all right. She has many years ahead of her.”

“Sons, I’m heading to bed.” Their dad strolled from the kitchen, cradling his mug.

“I didn’t even mention Mom.” Drake cut his roast beef into smaller pieces.

“I know. He still can’t talk about her death. I hope one day when I find the right woman, I have their kind of marriage.”

Drake had had that with Shanna—until someone killed her. His family had been there for him when his wife had died five years ago, but no one could erase the pain. He knew what his father was going through. Time had helped, but it couldn’t make him forget the devastating loss. “Dad will come around.”

“You haven’t.”

Drake started to reply, but his cell phone rang. Maybe it was news about Kay. He quickly answered the unknown number. “Drake Jackson here.”

“This is Kay. I’m in trouble.”

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