relief hit Addie almost as hard as the slam of fear had, so it took her a moment to speak. It wasn’t the killer, but her mother was limping her way toward them. “It’s okay, Mom.”
That wasn’t exactly the truth. Everything was far from being okay, but Addie didn’t want her mother pointing a gun at a Texas Ranger.
Even this Ranger.
Her mother obviously didn’t buy her it’s okay because she didn’t lower the gun, and she continued to volley glances between Weston and Addie. Even though she wasn’t a large woman, and her hair was completely silver-gray, she still managed to look tough as nails.
“Who is he?” her mother asked. But almost immediately her gaze dropped to Addie’s stomach.
“Yes, he’s the baby’s father,” Addie verified. “Mom, this is Weston Cade. Weston, this is my mom, Iris Crockett.”
It seemed silly to make polite introductions at a time like this, but it did get her mother to lower the shotgun. What her mom didn’t do was ease up on the glare she was giving Weston.
“You hurt my daughter,” her mother said.
“I know,” Weston readily admitted. “And I’m sorry.” He, too, put away his gun, sliding it back into his holster.
Her mother didn’t say the words, but her frosty blue eyes let Weston know that his apology alone wouldn’t be nearly good enough. Maybe nothing would be. After all, her mother had no doubt heard Addie’s crying jags and had seen the hurt and sadness.
“How did you get inside?” her mother asked Weston. “I didn’t hear you ring the doorbell, and if you had, I wouldn’t have let you in.”
“He came in with me from the barn,” Addie jumped to answer. Best if her mother didn’t know she’d just been in a partial wrestling match with the man who’d fathered her child. “Weston has bad news. Well, maybe it’s bad. If the letters he got are real, then it’s bad.”
“They’re real,” Weston insisted.
Again, her mother didn’t say anything, but she grasped it right away. “This is about the Moonlight Strangler.” Still limping, she moved protectively to Addie’s side, slipping her left arm around her. “Is he coming after Addie?”
That was something both she and her mother had no doubt asked themselves dozens of times, but they’d never spoken of it.
Too frightening to consider aloud.
Of course, Addie had taken precautions. Always looking over her shoulder. Always on guard for her biological father to make some kind of contact. Or try to murder her. But after three months of the precautions, Addie had thought she was safe.
“I need to talk to Jericho,” Addie said, taking out her phone. “I’ll have him come home right away. Jax, too.”
She almost explained to Weston that Jax was a deputy in Appaloosa Pass, but there was probably little about her and her family that he didn’t already know. Well, with the exception of the pregnancy, but then there were only six people who’d known about that: her mother, her four brothers and the doctor.
“I’ll alert the ranch hands so they can all get inside the bunkhouse,” her mother added.
But Weston took hold of both their arms before either of them could make those calls. “If the Moonlight Strangler suspects you’re on to him, he won’t come here.”
Her mother gave a crisp nod. “Good!”
“Not good.” Addie groaned. “Because he might try to go after Weston’s sister. Or he’ll just wait to attack again.”
Weston was right. They couldn’t live at the sheriff’s office or stay locked up in the house. They had a huge ranch to run. Plus, there was the baby. Addie didn’t want her child to be a prisoner because they had had the bad luck to wind up in the wrong gene pool.
“So, what do we do?” Addie asked, hating that she didn’t already have a plan. One that didn’t involve Weston and that could ensure her baby wouldn’t be hurt.
Weston opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say a word, Addie’s phone rang. It wasn’t Jericho’s name she saw on the screen, however. It was Teddy McQueen, one of the ranch hands.
“If this is about those mares,” Addie said the moment she answered, “we’ll have to discuss it another time.”
“Addie,” the man said. His voice was barely a whisper.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
For several snail-crawling moments, all she heard was Teddy’s ragged breath. That didn’t help steady her nerves. Weston’s either, because he took the phone from her and jabbed the speaker button.
“I was in the south pasture and spotted someone by the shed there,” Teddy finally continued. “A man. I was about to ask him what he was doing, and he shot me with one of those guns fitted with a silencer. I didn’t even see it until it was too late.”
“Oh, God. Call nine-one-one and get an ambulance,” Addie told her mother, and Iris immediately did that. “Teddy, how bad are you hurt?”
“Not sure. But the bullet’s in my leg so I can’t walk.”
“Just hold on. We’ll get someone out to you,” Addie assured him.
“Tell whoever’s coming to be careful. Real careful. You and Iris, too. I didn’t get a look at the man’s face, but I saw what direction he went.”
Teddy took another long breath. “Addie, you need to watch out. He’s headed straight for the house.”
Weston’s first instinct was to curse. And to punch himself for not fixing this before the danger was right on Addie’s doorstep.
Why the heck hadn’t his friends warned him?
Later, he’d want an answer to that, but he had to focus on making sure this situation didn’t go from bad to worse. For now, Weston settled for firing off a quick text to one of those friends to warn him that all hell had broken loose.
“How long do we have before the man gets here?” Addie asked the wounded ranch hand.
“He’s on foot, but he’s moving pretty quick. You got fifteen minutes, maybe less.”
Weston figured with the way his luck had been running, it’d be less. That wasn’t enough time for Jericho to make it out to the ranch, but maybe it was enough for Weston’s friends to get onto the grounds and help.
The moment he finished the text, Weston slapped off the lights, pulled Addie’s mom into the office with them and then closed the blinds. “Get down on the floor behind the desk. I’ll go through the house and lock the doors.”
“It’ll go faster if I show you where all the doors are,”
