Safe with a Stranger

“Down, Mommy,” he whined as he kicked at her stomach.

“Not here, honey,” she said with a breathless gasp.

Her no didn’t get through to the two-year-old. He kicked again, harder. At that same time the lifesaving pickup turned and came roaring up beside her.

She should have been frightened. Maybe she should have run in the other direction. Instead, her curiosity about what the fancy driver looked like had her standing on tiptoe and staring into the pickup’s cab.

The guy leaned over and opened the passenger door. “Get in.” All she caught of his face in the flash of the overhead light was a stubbled jaw and the brim of a beat-up Stetson pulled low over his eyes.

“What?” Belatedly she found her caution. “No.”

“Look. Those dudes will be back here any second. And if you didn’t notice, they have big, frigging guns. Get the hell in.”

He was right. She was in no position to argue. Still…“I can’t. But we should be okay thanks to you.”

“Can’t?”

This must have seemed like a good time to try to get his own way, because Jimmy squealed. When Clare tightened her grip around him, her child finally looked up at the pickup.

“Bye-bye,” Jimmy said as he pointed toward the truck.

“Is that a kid?” The guy in the truck sounded incredulous.

“My son. I don’t dare put him in your truck without the proper restraint. It isn’t safe.”

Just then, a loud ping resounded off the truck’s back bumper. And a tiny spray of gravel exploded right next to the back rear tire.

“They’re shooting now, lady. That ain’t exactly safe. Climb in or not, but I’m getting the hell out of here.”

Shooting? Ramzi would never allow anyone to shoot at his son. Just who were these goons, if not his men?

From that thought, it didn’t take her a whole minute to load herself, her son and their duffel into the wide front seat of the pickup while the driver doused his headlights. “Go,” she urged while still fumbling with the seat belt.

The driver took off with a crunch of tires against gravel. The whining engine strained to keep up with the man pouring on the gas. His takeoff bounced her around in the seat, but she hung on valiantly to Jimmy.

“Those city dudes are still on foot,” the cowboy told her as he fought the wheel. “This old truck might not look like much, but it’ll do zero to sixty in ten seconds. They won’t stand a chance of getting to their vehicle or catching a glimpse of this truck in the dark before we’re long gone.”

Clare swallowed hard. She was grateful to this man, whoever he was. But she didn’t want his crazy driving to end up taking any risks with Jimmy’s life. After all, Ramzi’s men couldn’t possibly want to kill her son. They must just want to take him back to his father.

She thought of the bullets those goons had fired and amended that idea. They might not mind killing her to get to Jimmy.

“Can you go any faster?”

The man turned the lights back on and downshifted to take a corner. “Sugar, this heap may be fast off the line, but it won’t hold together pushed to the limit.”

He took four more corners in quick succession. When she’d gotten totally turned around and lost, he slowed down.

“They’ll never make us now,” he said. “So, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on? Why were those dudes after you?” He took one more corner, but this time on four wheels. “Tell me those weren’t some sort of cops.”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Cops shoot at women and children all the time—sure. I was just walking from the bus station to the roadhouse to get my son something to eat. How should I know those jokers?”

He shot her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road ahead. “It’s after ten. Not exactly a terrific time to be waltzing around these streets with a baby. Isn’t there a restaurant in the bus station?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” she lied.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. And I suppose you have no idea why those guys were trying to get to you, either. All that drama seems extreme for a simple robbery.”

“Well…Maybe they wanted to kidnap my little boy.”

That shut him up for a few minutes. Finally, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You never made it to the roadhouse. I would’ve noticed you there. Is the kid still hungry?”

She looked down at Jimmy in her lap. “He and I both could use a little food. It’s been a long time since we’ve eaten anything.”

“You were planning on a bus trip, I’d guess. When’s the bus leave?”

“Not until midnight.”

“Then let’s go find a decent place to eat. And I’ll get you two back to the station in time.”

Josh was kicking himself thirty ways from Sunday by the time he found a chain restaurant that stayed open all night. What the hell was he doing with a woman and a child? Only just now recovering from his idiot bout with alcohol, he didn’t know about the long-term effects of PTSD. He still wasn’t sure the docs were right where he was concerned.

He’d been planning on hanging with his baby sister in Zavala Springs for a while after the funeral. Just long enough for him to figure out what he wanted his life to be outside the Rangers and without the alcohol. He wasn’t exactly great company.

Parking and shutting off the engine in the shadowed lot, Josh cleared his throat once more and tried to think of something civil to say.

The woman turned her face toward him and he caught the gleam of white teeth through the darkness. Hot damn, but her smile must have terrific wattage. He had a feeling she was going to turn out to be a real babe when he got a decent look at her in the lights.

“This’ll be fine,” she said. “Thanks for rescuing us. I think the least we can do is buy you dinner.”

“Yeah? Well, I think I can manage on my own.” Hell. Now he felt like a real jerk. What would’ve been wrong with letting her pay or saying something nice, like he’d already eaten?

Swinging down from the truck’s cab, Josh hauled himself around the pickup to help lift her and the kid down. He wasn’t sure why he automatically did that, but it seemed like the thing to do.

He ushered them into the relative safety of the well-lit restaurant and a hostess seated them. Without sitting, the woman excused herself to change the kid’s diaper. It took another ten minutes to locate a high chair. This baby business seemed to be a real pain in the butt.

Finally all together in the booth, they’d placed their orders and now had coffee, iced tea and a sippy cup with juice sitting in front of them. It was then he took a moment and really looked across the table—and nearly bit his tongue in half.

Talk about a babe. He’d only gotten quick glances earlier because they’d been so busy, but this chick was a stunner.

Just looking at her was way better than eating the dessert he’d ordered and more fulfilling than any booze. Even better than the best barbecue he remembered his grandfather Will serving, the sight of Clare became food for the eyes. And sauce for the soul.

Her long, lush eyelashes covered clear, whiskey-colored eyes, and her silvery-blond streaked hair hung in a messy waterfall over the delicate curve of her shoulders. There was a tiny mole at the side of her luscious mouth, but it didn’t mar the beauty of porcelain skin.

She rounded that mouth to say something to her son and the sight of those full, soft lips made him squirm. Whoo baby. For a man who hadn’t cared one whit about sexy females in more years than he’d like to count, Josh was having full-blown wet dreams of her wrapping those lips around a body part of his that was right now sitting up and taking notice.

Hell.

“My son’s name is Jimmy and I’m Clare Chandler,” she said and held out her hand across the table.