Douglas had walked into the middle of a nightmare. He knew Isabel's situation was bad. If what she'd told him the day before was true—and he was certain that it was—then she was in serious trouble. Not only was she being preyed upon by a group of thugs under the direction of a malevolent bastard named Boyle, but she was also completely cut off from town, which meant she couldn't get help or supplies. Last, but certainly just as troublesome, was the fact that she had just given birth. The infant needed her undivided attention, and both mother and son were too weak and vulnerable to be moved.
Then bad got worse. The rain didn't let up. Since dawn, it had alternated between a soft sprinkle and a thundering deluge. He'd become extremely concerned about the weather as soon as he stepped outside in the gray light of day and saw exactly where the log cabin was situated. Last night it had been too dark to see much of anything when he'd ridden down the slope, guided by only a faint flickering light in the field below. He'd already known the cabin was surrounded on three sides by mountains, but what he hadn't known was that her home was sitting smack in the center of the flood floor. Any overflow from the lakes and creeks in the mountains would have to pass through her cabin in order to get to the river below. He couldn't believe anyone would build a home in such a dangerous spot. Douglas didn't usually speak ill of the dead, but facts were facts, and it was apparent Parker Grant, Senior, had been an incompetent imbecile. Douglas had given Grant the benefit of the doubt when he'd seen the cradle. Some men weren't any good at making furniture. Nothing wrong with that, he'd reasoned. Building a home on a flood path was an altogether different matter.
Still, Douglas didn't want to jump to conclusions. Someone else might have built the place years ago, and Grant might simply have moved his wife inside as a temporary measure until he could build a proper home up on higher ground.
Douglas hoped his guess was right. With any luck—and God only knew she was due for some—Grant had gotten a roof on the new cabin. If it wasn't too far away, Douglas could take Isabel and her son there in a couple of days.
Time wasn't critical yet. Although there were patches of water all over the field behind the house and barn, and the ground was soggy under his feet, he figured he still had some time before they had to leave. There was also the chance that the rain would stop. The usual hot summer sun would quickly dry up the water then, which would give them some additional time.
He needed something to cheer him up, he decided, and so he went to the barn to take care of the horses. He was eager to get a look at the Arabians again. The stallion was as magnificent as his brother had told him he was.
The horse was big for an Arabian, with a beautiful gray coat. Douglas could feel the power in the stallion and the distrust. Isabel had been right, Pegasus didn't like strangers, but fortunately Douglas had always had a way with horses, and once the stallion was used to his scent and his voice, he let him check his injury.
His mate was smaller, somewhat delicate looking, and definitely full of herself. She tossed her head about like a vain woman, which made Douglas like her all the more.
The pair was meant to stay together. As soon as he moved the female into the stall next to the stallion, they nuzzled each other and let Douglas brush them. No wonder Isabel had wanted to keep them. Her husband never should have sold the stallion without first discussing it with her, no matter how desperate he was for money.
The animals' feed was running low. He gave his sorrel and the Arabians as much as they needed, then calculated he had less than a week's ration left.
The supplies inside the cabin were just as sparse. He had only just finished taking inventory when he heard the baby's whimpering. He decided to change him so that Isabel could stay in bed, but when he reached the bedroom door, it was closed.
He knocked twice before she answered him. In a stammer she asked him to please wait until she finished dressing.
"You may come in now."
She was standing by the chest of drawers dressed in a blue robe buttoned to the top of her neck. Parker was nestled in her arms. Isabel was getting prettier by the minute. Douglas realized he was staring at her, glanced away, and noticed then the dress she'd laid out on top of her bed.
"You really should stay in bed."
She finally looked up. The glow of motherhood was still in her eyes, and there was a faint blush on her cheeks. She wasn't looking at him though. Her gaze was directed on the wall to his left.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong." She sounded nervous. "I want to get dressed and fix your breakfast." He shook his head. "For God's sake, you just had a baby. I'll fix your breakfast. You sit down in the rocker while I change the bedding."
His voice told her not to argue. She sat more quickly than she should have, and let out a loud moan. "I think I'd better stand up."
He helped her to her feet. She still wouldn't look at him.
"Why are you acting so shy with me?"
Her blush intensified. He shouldn't have been so blunt, he supposed.
"After… you know."
"No, I don't know. That's why I asked."
"It's… awkward. I was thinking about how I met you and you had to… it was necessary for you to…
when the baby was coming…"
He started to laugh. He simply couldn't help it. She didn't appreciate his amusement.
"I was real busy at the time. All I remember is the baby. I was worried I'd drop him."
"Honest?"
"Yes, honest. If it hurts too much to sit down, lean on the dresser until I get your bed ready. The last thing we need now is for you to fall. You've got to be weak."
"Parker's fretful," she stammered out, trying to change the subject. Douglas leaned closer to her side and peered down at the sleeping infant. Fretful was the last word he would have used to describe the baby.
"He looks real peaceful to me."
They looked at one another and shared a smile. Douglas was the first to turn away, but not before he noticed how pretty her eyes were. They were more gold than brown, and, damn, those freckles of hers were going to keep on distracting him if he continued to stand so close to her. She had delicate hands too. He had noticed them during her contractions when she tried to choke him because he wouldn't knock her unconscious.
He made quick work of changing the bedding while she listed all the qualities she was sure her son possessed. She started out telling him Parker had already proven how smart he was, and by the time she finished listing his attributes, she had elevated him to genius.
Douglas couldn't figure out how she'd arrived at her conclusions. The baby wasn't a full day old, and all she could possibly know about him was that he slept and he wet.
She was sagging against the chest when Douglas took Parker away from her.
"I could go in the kitchen with you and help you fix breakfast."
"You don't need to," he said. "Is Parker getting enough to eat?"
"He will… soon."
"Please, try to get past your embarrassment. I need to know if he's doing all right."
"Yes, he's doing just fine. The doctor spent a long while telling me what to expect. I should be able to feed him by tonight."
He nodded. "If you start bleeding, you'll tell me, won't you?"
"Douglas…"
"I'm thinking about Parker," he explained. "Maybe I should go and get the doctor so he can check you. I could sneak him past Boyle's men during the night."
"That isn't necessary. I promised I'd tell you if anything happens." After he put the baby back in his bed, he helped Isabel out of her robe. Her hands trembled as she tried to get the buttons undone, protesting all the while that she could undress herself. He took over the task anyway.
"I'm not at all tired. I've slept a long time."
She kept on protesting, even after he'd tucked her between the sheets. At her insistence, he checked on her son once more before he left the room, and by the time he pulled the door closed, Isabel was sound asleep.
She ate breakfast early that evening. He fed her burnt toast and lumpy oatmeal sweetened with sugar. He thought it looked pretty good.
She thought it looked awful. Because he'd gone to such trouble to prepare the meal, she ate as much as she could without gagging and thanked him profusely.
After he'd removed the tray, he sat down on the side of the bed to discuss the situation. "We need to talk."
She dropped the napkin onto her lap. "You're leaving."
"Isabel…"
"I understand."
Her face had turned stark white. He shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving. I'm going to have to do something about your lack of supplies."
"You are?"
"Yes."
"I could use more flour and sugar. I'm almost out."
"I'm going into town."
"They won't let you come back."
He put his hand on top of hers. "Listen to me. It isn't good for you to get upset. I don't plan to stroll into the general store in the middle of the day. Give me a little more credit than that."
"Then how…"
He grinned. "I'm going in during the night."
She looked shocked by the possibility. "You're going to rob Mr. Cooper?"
"We need supplies, and I want to pick up some clothes. I only packed one extra shirt and pair of pants to come here. I'll leave money on the counter."
"Oh, you can't do that. Mr. Cooper will know someone came into the store and he'll tell Boyle. He tells him everything. It's too risky, Douglas. One of them might guess you're helping me. Wait, I know what you can do. Hide the money under the papers on Cooper's desk behind the counter. He'll eventually find it, and it doesn't matter if he ever figures out how it got there. We'll know we didn't steal, and our consciences will be clear. Yes, that's what you should do."
"Why does Cooper tell Boyle everything?"
"He just does," she replied. "So do some of the others. Only a handful of men stood up to Boyle. Dr. Simpson was one of them. He even lied to him for my sake and told him the baby wouldn't be born until the end of September. He was trying to give me more time to figure out a way to get away from Boyle."
"Good. We'll let Boyle keep on believing the lie for as long as possible. Did the doctor ever come out here?"
"Once."
"Did he tell you where the lookouts were?"
"I remember he told me they were lazy because they stay on the hill just outside town, blocking the road leading here. They take turns going back and forth into Sweet Creek."
"I saw those lookouts on my way here. I was wondering if he mentioned any others posted near you. It was dark when I came down the last hills, and I might have missed them."
"I don't think there are any more. There really isn't any reason for them to watch the cabin. They know I can't go into the wilderness. If I tried to go west, it would take over a week to get to the next town. In my condition, I couldn't risk it. No, the only safe way out is through Sweet Creek."
"If they aren't watching the cabin, that's good news."
"Why?"
"The longer I can go without being spotted, the better, and if they aren't watching the field, I can go back and forth from the barn and exercise the horses. I'll make certain Boyle's men haven't changed their lookout points first."
"When will you leave for the general store?"
"As soon as it's dark. Are you going to be okay by yourself?"
"Yes, but it's dangerous for you to go riding in the dark."
"It won't be any problem," he exaggerated. He tried to pull his hand away from hers, but she held on tight. "Tell me everything you know about the layout of the town." Her memory for details was impressive. She described each building in detail. She even knew exactly where Cooper had his inventory placed inside his store.
"Now tell me where Dr. Simpson's house is located. I want to find out how many men are watching him."
She did as he asked, and then said, "You won't be able to bring much back with you unless you take the buggy, and it's too dangerous. Boyle's men will hear the squeaky wheels."
"I can fix that. You stop worrying, and don't expect me back before morning. I'll leave the rifle and extra bullets next to your bed… just in case Boyle decides to come by. God, Isabel, I hate to leave you, but I…"
She threw her arms around his neck. "Please come back. I know you didn't ask for any of this. I'm so sorry I got you involved, but, Douglas, I really hope you'll come back anyway." He put his arms around her and held her tight. "Calm down. I'm coming back. I promise." She couldn't seem to let go. She hated herself for being so dependent on him. She had never depended
on her husband, but then she had understood his weaknesses. Douglas was the complete opposite of him. Nothing seemed to faze Douglas.
"Parker needs you until I get stronger."
"I'll be back," he promised once again. "You have to let go of me."
"Can I do anything to help you?"
"Sure. Give me a list of the things you need. I don't want to forget anything."
"There's a list in the drawer in the kitchen. I started it weeks ago." She sounded frantic when she added,
"I called it my wish list."
He didn't realize she was crying until she released him and sank back against the headboard.
"Ah, sugar. Don't cry."
"I'm just a little emotional today. That's all."
He had to do something to make her trust him. He checked on little Parker, then picked up his pocket watch, told her what time it was, and put it back on the dresser. When he looked at her again, he saw the fear still in her eyes.
"You know what you need, Isabel?"
"It's all down on my list," she answered.
"I'm not talking about supplies."
"Then, no, I don't know what I need."
"Faith. Try finding a little while I'm gone, or you and I are going to have words when I get back." The hard edge in his voice didn't upset her. She was actually comforted by it. He would come back, if only to give her a piece of his mind for doubting him. He was arrogant and proud enough to do just that, and, oh, it was so wonderful to have him snapping at her. He acted as though he belonged with her and Parker.