not my fault you got stuck in a blizzard and then decided to kick it with some sexy stranger.”
“True, it wasn’t your fault. I’ve decided it was all Tom’s fault,” Melissa replied and tried to ignore the faint pang of her heart at the thought of her ex-boyfriend.
“Ah, don’t even mention that snake’s name,” Caitlin replied. “I thought he was a creep when you first starting dating him and he definitely proved me right.”
“Water under the bridge,” Melissa replied. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you and let you know I’m almost there.”
“You’ll call me when you arrive? Tell me all about this MysteryMom of yours?”
“Definitely.”
“And, Melissa, I hope you have an amazing Christmas. You deserve it.”
Melissa put her cell phone back in her purse and pulled her car back on the road. Dusk was falling and she was eager to get to her destination before dark.
As she drove her mind filled with thoughts of Tom Watters. She’d thought they’d marry and build a family together and after two years of dating she’d begun to press him about setting a wedding date. He’d finally told her there wasn’t going to be a wedding, that for the past six months he’d been involved with another woman, one who was much sexier, much more a woman than Melissa.
Once again she clenched her hands on the steering wheel as she thought of that moment. She’d immediately made plans to visit Caitlin, needing to get away from her dismal apartment and all reminders of Tom.
Reeling not only with a broken heart, but also with a damaged ego, she’d been easy pickings for the handsome stranger who had come to her aid.
Her cheeks burned hot as she remembered that night of unexpected passion. James had looked at her with such desire. He’d made her feel so sexy, so wanted. She’d never before experienced that kind of wild abandon and suspected she’d never experience it again.
She cast all these thoughts aside as she drew nearer to the road her directions told her to take. As she left the small town of Dalhart behind, she spied the highway sign where she needed to turn.
In approximately ten miles she should be at the destination that she suspected was MysteryMom’s home. Excitement danced in her chest as she thought of finally coming face-to-face with the woman who had been not only a friend, but also a surrogate mom through the trials and tribulations of being a single new mother to twins.
If she didn’t like the looks of the place she’d turn around and make the two-and-a-half-hour drive back home. If she got any bad vibes at all, she’d just drive away. There was no way she’d put her babies or herself at risk.
The first surprise was the enormous stone monuments that marked the entry to the address she sought. The second surprise was when she drove down the tree-lined narrow drive and got her first glimpse of the house. No, house was too plain a word for the mansion that rose into view.
The two-story home was as big as a hotel, with several equally impressive outbuildings. Lights spilled with a cheerful welcome from several of the windows as the evening had begun to thicken with night shadows.
“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered to herself. The whole place breathed money.
As she drove up the circular driveway she saw that one of the outbuildings was a stable and she was more convinced than ever that this was MysteryMom’s house. MysteryMom had mentioned that she loved working with horses.
She parked the car and glanced into the backseat where Joey was awake. Of the two boys, Joey was the most laid-back. He rarely fussed and seemed content to take life as it came at him.
On the other hand, James was a handful. Demanding and impatient, he was the first to set up a frustrated cry if he needed a diaper change or a meal or if she took away his beloved rattle. But, he also had begun to belly laugh when happy and the sound of it never failed to delight her.
She looked at Joey, who gazed at her with bright blue eyes. “Are you ready to go meet Mommy’s new friend?” she asked. He waved his arms as if to show his excitement.
As she got out of the car she realized it had grown darker, as if night hadn’t just stealthily approached but had rather slammed down without warning.
She opened the door to the backseat and first unbuckled Joey and pulled him up on her hip, then went to the other door and did the same with James. In the past four months she’d become quite adept at not only carrying both boys, but also her purse and a diaper bag all at the same time.
The cold air chased her to the front door, where she managed to use her toe to knock. Her heart hammered with excitement as she waited for MysteryMom to answer. When the door opened her excitement transformed to stunned surprise.
He filled the doorway with his broad shoulders and lean hips, and his blue eyes widened with the same shock that she felt. His gaze swept over the two babies in her arms and his face paled.
James.
For a moment her mind refused to accept what she saw. “Henry? Who’s here?” a feminine voice called from somewhere in the house.
Two thoughts flew into Melissa’s head. Apparently his name wasn’t James and he must be married. Oh, God, this was all a mistake. A terrible mistake.
Before she could take a step backward, before she could even move a muscle, a ping sounded next to her and the wood of the doorjamb splintered apart.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Another ping resounded and James or Henry or whatever his name was leaned forward, grabbed her and pulled her inside the house. He slammed the door behind them.
“Call the sheriff,” he yelled. “Somebody is shooting at the house.” He opened a drawer in the ornate sideboard in the entry, pulled out a gun, then without a backward glance at her, disappeared out the front door.
Melissa stood in the center of the entry, her heart banging frantically. Mistake. This was all some sort of horrible mistake.
What kind of a man was her babies’ father that somebody shot at the house the minute he’d opened his door? Was he a drug dealer? A criminal of some kind?
As Joey and James began to cry, Melissa fought back tears of her own.
Henry Randolf clung to the shadows of the house as he tried to discern exactly where the shooter might be. He thought the attack had come from the stand of trees directly in front of the house.
As he moved forward he tried not to think about the woman who had appeared on his doorstep. Melissa, that was her name. She’d crossed his thoughts often over the past year, but he couldn’t think about her now or the two babies she held in her arms. He couldn’t afford to get distracted while somebody with a gun was on his property.
One problem at a time, he told himself. The shooter first, then he’d have to figure out what to do about his unexpected visitor.
He clenched his gun tightly as he worked his way to the stand of trees, listening for a sound, seeking a shadow that would indicate where the attacker might be. As he thought of how close those bullets had come to Melissa and those babies, a
