Barb Han - Rancher Rescue

Caleb’s jaw did that tick thing again. She’d seen it before when he’d seemed upset and held his tongue. Did he have something he wanted to say now?

“Sorry for your loss. This must be devastating for you. What about Noah’s father?”

“She...the two of them...lived in Austin alone. She never told me who his father was. As far as I know, no one else has a clue, either. My sister may have been reckless with her actions but she could keep a secret.” Katherine wondered what else she didn’t know about Leann.

“Be easy enough to check out the birth certificate.”

A half-laughed, half-exacerbated sigh slipped out. “She put down George Clooney.”

If Caleb thought it funny, he didn’t laugh.

Katherine cleared her throat. “I doubt if the father knows about Noah. Leann never told anyone who she dated. Not even me. I never knew the names of her boyfriends. When she spoke about them, they all had movie-star nicknames.”

“There must’ve been a pattern to it.”

Katherine shrugged. “Never gave it much thought before. Figured it was just for fun.”

His reassuring nod comforted her.

“You two were close?”

“Our relationship was complicated, but I’m...was...fiercely protective of her.” Katherine squeezed her elbows, not wanting to say what she really feared. Her sister had shucked responsibility and become involved with something or someone bad, and now both Katherine and Noah were in danger. Things had been turning around for Leann. Why would she do it?

Katherine tamped down the panic rising in her chest.

No one could hurt Noah.

She had to believe he would come home safely. Even though every fiber in her being feared he was already panicked, struggling to breathe. What if she found him and couldn’t help? Her purse was lost along with his medicine.

One of Caleb’s eyebrows lifted. “What about her friends?”

“I don’t have the first idea who they were. My sister was a free spirit. She moved around a lot. Took odd jobs. I don’t know much about her life before Noah. It wasn’t until recently she contacted me at all.” Had Leann known something was about to happen? Was she connected to the file?

Caleb didn’t look at her. He just went back to work on her leg, cleaning blood and blotting on ointment.

Oh, God. Bile rose in her throat. Acid burned a trail to her mouth. “No news is definitely not good news.”

“There aren’t a lot of places to hide. If your nephew’s around here, we’ll find him. My men know this property better than they know their own mothers.”

His comfort was hollow. A wave of desperation washed through her. If the men got off the property with Noah, how would she ever locate him?

“You hungry?”

“You know, I’m starting to feel much better.” She tried to push up, but her arms gave out.

“Eat. Rest. The pain in your leg is only beginning. You must’ve twisted your ankle when you fell. It’s swelling. Stay here. Keep it elevated. I’ll check in with my men.”

Caleb disappeared down the hall, returning a moment later with a steaming bowl in one hand and a bag of ice in the other. He’d removed his cowboy hat, revealing sandy-blond hair that was cut tight but long and loose enough to curl at the ends.

He set down the bowl before placing a pillow behind her head and ice on her ankle. He pulled out his cell while she ate the vegetable soup Margaret had prepared.

There was a knock at the front door. Katherine gasped. Her pulse raced.

* * *

CALEB’SEYESMETKatherine’s and the power of that one look shot straight to his core. Her on his couch, helpless, with those big eyes—a shade of violet that bordered on purple in this light—made him wish he could erase her pain.

He let Sheriff Coleman in. The officer’s tense expression reflected Caleb’s emotions. “Your coming by on short notice is much appreciated.”

Coleman tipped his hat, a nod to the mutual respect they’d built for one another in the years Caleb had owned the ranch.

“My men are out looking as we speak. I’ll need more details to file the report.”

Caleb introduced Coleman to Katherine. “This is the boy’s aunt. He was with her at the Reynolds’ pumpkin patch when it happened.”

Sheriff Coleman tilted his head toward Katherine. His lips formed a grim line. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything you remember.”

She talked about the pumpkin patch.

“Do you have a picture we can work with?” he asked, looking up from his notepad.

Her head shook, her lips trembled, but she didn’t cry. “No. I don’t. Lost them along with my purse and everything else I had with me. Not that it would do any good. He’s only been living with me for a week. We haven’t been down to clean his mother’s apartment yet. I don’t have many of his things. A few toys. His favorite stuffed animal.”

She rambled a little. Not many women could hold it together under this much duress. Her strength radiated a flicker of light in the darkest shadows of Caleb. Places buried long ago, which were best left alone.

“Let’s go over the description then,” Coleman suggested.

“Black hair. Big brown eyes. Three and a half feet tall. About forty pounds. He’s beautiful. Round face. Full cheeks. Curly hair. Features of an angel.”

“And the men who took him?” he pressed.

“One of them had gray eyes and a jagged scar from the left side of his lip. He had a dark tan.”

“How big was the scar?”

“Not more than a couple of inches. It was in the shape of a crescent moon.” She sobbed, but quickly straightened her shoulders and shook it off.

The sheriff glanced away, giving her a moment of space. Caleb dropped his gaze to the floor, respecting her tenacity even more.

“He mentioned the name Kane. He said ‘Kane wouldn’t like it.’”

“We’ll run the name against the database.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not much to go on. My nephew is alone. Sick. Scared. If he gets too upset, he could have an attack. Without his inhaler or medication, he won’t be able to breathe.”

Silence sat in the air for a beat.

Coleman cleared his throat. If Caleb didn’t know any better, he’d say the sheriff had moisture in his eyes. In this small town, they didn’t deal with a lot of violent crime.

“We’ll do everything we can to bring him back to you safe and sound. That’s a promise,” Coleman said.

“Thank you.”

“What’s Noah’s last name?”

“Foster.”

“You said you haven’t had a chance to clean out his mother’s place. Where’s that?”

“Austin.”

“That where you’re from?”

She shook her head. “I live in Dallas.”

Caleb could’ve told the sheriff that. She had a polished, city look. The jeweled sandals on her feet were one of the most impractical shoes she could wear to the country aside from spiked heels.

“When’s his birthday?”

“March. The seventeenth.”

Caleb looked at her. He could see the tension in her face muscles and the stress threatening to crack, but to her credit, she kept her composure. Probably needed to be strong more than she needed air. Caleb knew the feeling for reasons he didn’t want to talk about, either.

He’d known she was different from any other woman he’d met when he’d showed up to help her and she’d thanked him with a makeshift knife to his ribs. Hell, he respected her for it now that he knew the circumstances. She’d probably believed he was working with whoever had taken Noah and that he’d showed up to finish the job. She’d bucked up for a fight.

When she pushed herself up, it took everything in him not to close the distance between them and pull her into his arms for comfort. No one should have to go through this alone.