“I believe there are people who don’t want me to learn the truth about a woman who was murdered.”
He waited for her reaction.
Marin paused, taking a deep breath. “I see.”
Those two little words said a lot. They weren’t an accusation. More like reluctant acceptance. He supposed that was good. It meant she might not slap him for enangering her son. Too bad. Lucky might have felt better if she had slapped him.
“The authorities know the explosion might be connected to you?” she asked.
“They know. The train was going through LaMesa Springs when the explosives went off. The sheriff there, Beck Tanner, is spearheading the initial investigation. He’s already questioned me, and I told him about the case I was working on.”
Sheriff Tanner would likely question Marin, too. Before that, Lucky would have to tell her the whole truth about why he was really on that train.
And the whole truth was guaranteed to make her slap him.
Or worse.
Marin looked down at her hands and brushed her fingers over her scraped knuckles. “The explosion wasn’t your fault,” she concluded. “You werejust doing your job. And I put you in awkward position by asking you to protect Noah.” She lifted her head. “I don’t regret that. I can’t.”
Lucky pulled the chair next to her bed closer and sat down so they were at eye level. But they were still a safe distance from each other. Touching her was out. Her weakness and vulnerability clouded his mind.
And touching her would cloud his body.
He didn’t need either.
“Yeah. After I met your parents, I totally understood why you asked me to take care of your little guy,” Lucky continued. “Though at the time I thought I’d only have to keep that promise for an hour or two.”
She nodded. “And then I didn’t regain consciousness right away.”
That was just the first of several complications.
“Like you asked, I tried getting in touch with your friend, Lizette Raines, in Fort Worth. She didn’t answer her home phone, so I finally called someone I knew in the area and asked him to check on her. According to the neighbors, she’s on a short trip to Mexico with her boyfriend.”
Marin groaned softly. “Yes. She met him about two months ago, and I knew things were getting more serious, but she didn’t mention anything about a trip.”
She ran her fingers through the side of her shoulderlength hair and winced when she encountered the injury that had caused her concussion and the coma. In addition to the bandage that covered several stitches, her left temple was bruised—and the purplish stain bled all the way down to her cheekbone. It sickened him to see that on her face, to know what she’d been through.
And to know that it wasn’t over.
This—whatever this was—was just beginning, and Lucky didn’t care much for the bad turn it’d taken on that train.
“I wonder why Lizette didn’t call me,” Marin said. “She has my cell number.”
“Your phone was lost in the explosion so even if she’d tried that number, she wouldn’t have gotten you. Don’t worry. Your friend’s trip sounded legit, and none of your neighbors are concerned.”
Before Lucky could continue, the door flew open, and a couple walked in. Not the nurse with Noah, but two people that Lucky had already met. And they were two people he had quickly learned to detest.
Marin’s parents, Lois and Howard Sheppard.
The unexpected visit brought both him and Marin to their feet. It wasn’t a fluid movement for Marin. She wobbled a bit when she got out of bed, and he slid his arm around her waist so she could keep her balance.
Lucky so wished he’d had time to prepare Marin for this. Of course, there was no preparation for the kind of backstabbing she was about to encounter.
“Mother,” Marin said. Because she was pressed right against him, Lucky felt her muscles tense. She pulled in a long, tight breath.
No frills. That was the short physical description for the petite woman who strolled toward them. A simple maroon dress. Matching heels. Matching purse. Heck, even her lipstick matched. There wasn’t a strand of her graying blond hair out of place. Lois Sheppard looked like the perfect TV mom.
She hurried toward Marin and practically elbowed Lucky out of the way so she could hug her daughter. When Lois pulled back, her eyes were shiny with tears.
“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” Lois said, her voice weepy and soft.
Marin stepped back out of her mother’s embrace.
The simple gesture improved Lois’s posture. “Marin, that’s no way to act. Honestly, you’d think you have no manners. Aren’t you even going to say hello to your father?”
“Hello,” Marin echoed.
And judging from Marin’s near growling tone, she didn’t like her dad any better than Lucky did. Unlike Lois, Howard had a slick oily veneer that reminded Lucky of con artists and dishonest used car salesmen. Of course, his opinion probably had something to do with this whole backstabbing mission.
“Mother, why are you and Dad here?”
Lois shrugged as if the answer were obvious. “Because we love you. Because we’re concerned about you. You’re coming back to the ranch with us so you can have time to recuperate from your injuries. You know you’re not well enough or strong enough to be on your own. You never have been. Clearly, leaving home was a mistake.”
Lucky pulled Marin tighter into the crook of his arm.
“I’m not going with you,” she informed her mother.
Lucky wanted to cheer her backbone, but he already knew the outcome of this little encounter.
There’d be no cheering today.
“Yes, you are,” Lois disagreed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a choice about that. You and Noah are too important to us. And because we love you both so much, we’ve filed papers.”
Lucky felt Marin’s muscles stiffen even more. “What kind of papers?” Marin enunciated each syllable.
Lucky didn’t wait for Lois Sheppard to provide the explanation. “Your folks are trying to use your hospital stay and your epilepsy to get custody of Noah.” He turned his attention to Lois and made sure he smirked. “Guess what—not gonna happen.”
The woman’s maroon-red mouth tightened into a temporary bud. “I don’t think you’ll have much of a say in that, Randall.”
“Lucky,” he corrected. Because by damn he might have to play the part of Marin’s slimeball ex, but Lucky refused to use the man’s name. It’d been a godsend that neither of Marin’s parents had ever met said slimeball. If they had, the charade of Lucky pretending
