LOVED HIS MOM A WHOLE, big bunch, but right now he wanted his dad. His mom said his dad died, but most times Cayden wasn’t even sure what that meant. All he really knew was that his dad was gone and ever since they left their house in St. Louis, all his mom ever did was cry.
Now he was stuck up in a tree and his big toe hurt really bad and he was pretty sure something giant was trying to eat him.
“Mommy!”
He barely heard her say, “I’m coming, sweetie!”
He usually hated it when his mom called him sweetie pie and stuff like he was a little kid, but out here, it was kind of nice, knowing how much she loved him. He worried once the baby came, she’d only love his new sister, then he’d be all alone.
Cayden started to cry, and he hated crying.
Crying was for stupid babies.
He called out for her again and again, but this time, heard nothing. Forever and ever he sat alone in the tree, until even his own breathing sounded scary.
“Cayden?” Who was that? Sounded like Coach Jason. “Mrs. Langtoine?” Was he coming to tell him he made the team?
Light bounced through the dark trees, making everything look waaaay more spookier. “Coach? I’m up here! All my bones are broke bad! And there’s an alligator trying to eat me!”
“You mean this guy?” Coach held up a loudmouthed frog.
“Guess it could’ve been him.”
Coach asked, “Where’s your mom?”
“Don’t know. I—I think she’s lost.”
* * *
FROM DEEP WITHIN THE WOODS, Brynn glanced over her shoulder and saw a light bobbing in the gloom. Not sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, she did a double take. “Hello?”
A hulking figure emerged from the brush. “Mrs. Langtoine?”
“You...” The man she’d admired on the field for his knack for talking with the players and whom she’d later regretted snapping at for sharing his advice concerning her son had now come to her rescue. Relief sagging her shoulders, she cupped her hands to her belly.
He extended his hand. “High time for a formal introduction. Tristan Bartoni. Guess I owe you an apology. Seems letting your boy run off wasn’t such a great idea.”
“Brynn Langtoine. And actually, if I’d done as you suggested and left him alone instead of chasing him, he probably wouldn’t have gone so far.” The man’s fingers enveloped hers. His height and breadth made her feel all at once vulnerable, yet strangely safe. “Have you seen my son? I thought I had him, but this swamp got me all turned around. Sounds don’t carry right, and...” She shook her head. “I need to find Cayden. He’s all I have.”
“Understood.” Tristan punched numbers into an electronic gadget, then took a handheld radio from a side pocket in his cargo pants. Into the radio, he said, “I’ve got the mom. How’s it going with the boy?”
“Got him,” came a static-garbled voice.
Relief turned Brynn’s knees to rubber. When she nearly collapsed, her new friend was there to support her. “Whoa. We’ve had enough excitement for tonight.
“Copy that,” he said into his radio. “Meet up back at the trucks.” With the radio returned to its pocket, he again consulted his gadget. “You hauled ass through rough terrain.”
“Um, thanks, I guess.” Legs again steady beneath her, Brynn straightened, trying to regain her composure. “Desperation makes a body do crazy things.”
“No kidding. Now we have to trek damn near two miles to get back.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, hey—” he held back an armful of brush for her to pass “—I’m not complaining. Truth is, you’re doing me a favor. This beats the hell out of watching reality TV. Been cooped up at my mom’s too long.”
“Oh?” She wanted to ask why, but figured not only wasn’t it her business, but the last thing she needed was to form a connection with someone when it would inevitably fail. Since moving to Ruin Bayou just after Christmas, Brynn had done a good job of keeping to herself. Selling Mack’s Escalade had given her enough cash to buy a less expensive SUV, and not have to get a job right away. But with that money dwindling, she couldn’t hide forever.
Maybe not forever, her wounded heart cried, but at least until she had her baby.
After ten minutes walking in silence, he said, “I grew up around here and only knew one Langtoine. My mom said Mack’s widow was back with their little boy. You her?”
“Yep.” So much for hiding.
Chapter Two
Last thing Tristan wanted was to get in Brynn’s business. He knew all too well what it was like to be caught in a situation bigger than he could handle. That said, he’d considered Mack a friend, and had been shocked and saddened by the allegations lodged against him.
The muck they sloshed through sucked at the soles of his boots, making travel arduous. Most women he’d encountered would’ve bitched a blue streak over being caught in this kind of mess, but Brynn trekked on without complaint.
“Go ahead,” she said with a defensive tone, “ask away about my husband. Everyone else does.” She stopped, tilting her head back, giving her long curls a shake before arranging them into a messy ponytail with a band she’d had on her wrist.
“Well?” Tristan probed. “Did he do it?”
“Which of his transgressions in particular? Gambling ring—check. Game fixing, partnership in an underground casino—check, check.” She started walking.
Tristan whistled.
“That about sums it up.”
And here I thought I’d had it bad. Sidestepping a log, he said, “Hang to the left just a bit.”
She set a quicker pace than he’d expected from a woman in her condition as she asked, “What’s your story?”
“Complicated.” And it still stung plenty bad. But he didn’t discuss his past even with his mom, let alone a stranger. “Mack was a great guy. I can’t imagine him—”
“You don’t have to imagine it. I lived it.” Her snippy voice had returned with a vengeance—not that he could blame her for being cranky.
“Back in school, Mack never even cheated on tests.”
“And you did?” They kept an even pace and the look she cast his way wasn’t exactly complimentary.
“Maybe once or twice in a pinch. Who didn’t?”
“Me.” He didn’t appreciate her high-and-mighty tone. “And just think what that says about your
