Читать книгу: «A Father For Her Baby»

This is for my brother, Charles Allen Johnson.

Here’s wishing all your dreams come true. A woman you

can love. A life that makes you happy. And above all the

freedom to enjoy what you love most. Good luck, little

brother. I’m rooting for you.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Kit Bannack Killhorn—She’s running for her life with only one thought in mind—protecting her baby.

Luke St. John—He has sworn to avenge his brother’s death, and Kit Bannack Killhorn is going to help him one way or another.

Derrick Killhorn—He will stop at nothing to find Kit and the baby and bring them back to Montana.

Jason St. John—What kind of trouble did he stumble into that he just couldn’t walk away from?

Lucille Johnson—She’s the best cook in Texas and is cooking up something for Kit and her baby.

Belinda Killhorn—Is Derrick’s ex-wife telling the truth or does she have her own ax to grind?

Sanders Killhorn—He’s always been his brother’s keeper. But could even he save his brother this time?

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

Title Page

Dedication

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Don’t tell me you haven’t found her,” the angry voice bellowed on the other end of the phone line.

That was the last thing Sanders Killhorn wanted to tell his brother, Derrick.

“A woman that pregnant can’t have just disappeared into thin air,” Derrick snapped.

But Derrick’s wife had done exactly that. Disappeared. Seven months of searching, and Sanders had found no trace of Kit. He crossed the room to the motel window, dragging the phone with him, and peered out. The sun hung on the Dallas skyline, fiery red. As red as Kit’s hair.

“What about the guy who said he’d seen her in Texas City?” Derrick demanded.

“I talked to him.” Behind Sanders, only the flickering television screen lit the nondescript motel room as another day dissolved into darkness and defeat. “He was only interested in the reward. He didn’t know anything.”

Derrick swore loudly. “I won’t rest until I find my son.”

His son? Sanders felt a chill. Derrick had no way of knowing if Kit had given birth to a boy. His brother’s obsession with having a son scared him—just as it had Kit. Was that why she’d taken off?

“Someone has to have seen her,” Derrick said. “Maybe she’s cut her hair or dyed it.”

Sanders couldn’t imagine Kit doing either. But then, he couldn’t imagine her taking off like she’d done, at nine months’ pregnant. Hadn’t she known Derrick would never stop looking for her? Especially with her carrying his baby?

Sanders had tracked her from the Bozeman, Montana bus station, where she’d abandoned Derrick’s truck, as far as the Dallas, Texas bus station. After that, she had vanished.

He’d checked every bus, train and airplane. And all the hospitals within a two-hundred-mile radius. No Kit Bannack Killhorn had given birth. At least not under her real name. Nor had anyone matching her description.

He’d also checked birth certificates for a two-month period. No Bannack. No Killhorn. Even the private investigator his brother had hired had come up empty-handed.

Sanders had grown weary of looking for his sister-in-law and wanted more than anything to return home to Montana. Especially with Christmas just days away.

“Something has to have happened to her,” Derrick was saying. “Maybe she was in an accident and can’t remember—”

The rest of his brother’s words were lost as Sanders caught a familiar image out of the corner of his eye. He turned to stare at the television screen.

Kit’s face stared back.

* * *

IN A MOTEL ROOM across from Sanders’s room, Luke stared at the same newscast, the same face on the TV screen, the same woman he’d also been chasing for seven months.

Just moments before, Luke had been electronically eavesdropping on Sanders’s conversation with Derrick Killhorn and calling himself a fool. All this time, he’d been shadowing Sanders, hoping the man and his resources would lead him to Kit. But he was beginning to doubt even the great Killhorns could find the woman. And even if they did, Luke couldn’t be sure she had the answers he so desperately needed.

He was ready to give up, admit he’d been wrong. He was sick of motel rooms, rental cars and eating out of foam containers. He was sick of tailing Sanders, and he damned sure hadn’t done any good finding Kit on his own.

When her face flashed on the television screen, Luke gaped in disbelief, adrenaline singing through his veins. I was right. Dammit, I was right. He felt a jolt of satisfaction, followed quickly by fear and regret so strong that he could taste it. Dear God, I was right.

He kicked up the volume on the TV.

“…after an arsonist started a fire that destroyed the small private Galveston hospital last June.”

Kit sat wrapped in a hospital blanket, the blazing building behind her. Her eyes caught the camera; her hand went up to shield her face from view. The image lasted only a few seconds, then was gone.

Luke cursed as he realized the newscast wasn’t about Kit, but about a woman whose kidnapped baby had been returned to her.

What did any of that have to do with Kit?

A doctor came on the screen. Dr. Bernard explained that three women had given birth on June third at the Galveston hospital just before the fire broke out. The mothers and their babies had been evacuated separately. It wasn’t until later that authorities realized one of the babies had been kidnapped. The arson was still under investigation.

Luke felt his breath rush out of him. Kit. She had to be one of the mothers who’d given birth that night. That’s why her face had been on the old file tape about the hospital fire back in June.

Luke shook his head in amazement. No wonder he and Sanders hadn’t been able to find her. A hospital fire. That explained why no one at the area hospitals remembered Kit Killhorn.

Luke turned off the TV and stared at the empty screen, his heart pounding. He couldn’t get the image of Kit out of his head. The stark terror in her eyes. The way she’d tried to hide from the camera. This lady was running scared. But what was she fleeing from? What had sent her hightailing it out of Montana? He couldn’t wait to ask her.

* * *

ACROSS TOWN, Kit leaned over her son’s crib and lovingly pulled the soft blanket up to Andy’s dimpled chin. With warm fingers, she brushed his blond hair back from his angelic face and smiled down at him. She loved looking at him, and spent hours doing just that.

He’d had a big day today and she knew he must be exhausted. She was, after following him in all his explorations. It amazed her how quickly he learned, how quickly he changed. Over the last six and a half months she’d watched him grow, marveling at it all from his first smile and laugh to the first time he’d rolled over and crawled.

She’d named him Andrew, after her father. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to give him her father’s last name, Bannack. Nor had she used Killhorn. Either name would only have led Derrick to them. So she’d lied, providing fake names for the birth certificate to keep her baby safe.

Kit turned on the television in the room she shared with her son, hoping to catch the news and see if the predicted storm off the gulf had materialized.

But when the news came on, she found herself staring in confusion at the screen. Her face. What was she doing on TV? Old footage from the night of the fire! She remembered her terror that night when she’d seen the television news crew. Surely they hadn’t ever shown this particular news clip before, or Derrick would have found her.

Her heart thudded. Why in God’s name were they showing it now? Had the arsonist been found? Or was this about that poor woman whose baby had been kidnapped?

“After almost seven long months, Nina Fairchild and her son Dustin have been reunited,” the newscaster said.

Kit felt a wave of relief. She’d silently feared that the kidnapper had taken the wrong baby the night of the fire—that Derrick had tracked her and Andy, and mistakenly stolen Nina’s son.

Now the Fairchild baby was safe. Kit felt such gratitude that she hadn’t caused the poor woman’s pain. But at the same time, the newscast shattered any illusion that Kit could evade her past.

All these months, she’d hidden, terrified that Derrick would find her and Andy. As she’d watched her son grow and flourish, she’d convinced herself she’d done the right thing. Including lying to Dr. Bernard to get her job as a nanny. And lying to Tim Anderson so he’d pay her cash and there’d be no record of her employment.

But the moment she saw her face on TV, she knew she hadn’t hidden well enough. She couldn’t take the chance that Derrick hadn’t seen the newscast somehow. Or at least hadn’t heard about it.

She looked down at her son sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart thrummed with the sound of his rhythmic breathing. Tears welled in her eyes—tears of fear, anger and regret. She wiped at them, filled with another emotion, this one stronger than all the others put together: the need to protect her son. It felt almost primitive. She would give her life for Andy’s.

She covered her son with a blanket and wondered if she would ever be able to find a place where they would be safe. As she began to pack, the answer chilled in her heart, filling her with terror.

As long as Derrick Killhorn was after her, no safe place existed.

Chapter Two

Luke wasn’t surprised the next morning when he tailed Sanders to the office of Dr. Bernard, the obstetrician who’d probably delivered Kit’s baby.

Only minutes later, Sanders came out smiling. And Luke had to give him credit. He’d gotten the information—and fast. Luke figured Sanders had greased a few palms: that would be the Killhorn way.

Luke waited, knowing the moment Sanders got into his rental car that he’d call his brother.

“I’ve got her,” Sanders said excitedly into the cell phone. “She’s working as a nanny in Galveston. I’m headed there now.”

Luke would have loved to hear what Derrick was saying, because he was obviously giving Sanders instructions—long, detailed ones.

“Well, you know her better than I do,” Sanders said, sounding dubious. “Okay. Sure, I can do that. Huntsville? No, don’t worry, I can convince her. All right, I’ll meet you up at the airport, one way or the other.”

Convince her to what? Luke wondered. Whatever it was, he didn’t like the sound of it.

He followed Sanders at a safe distance into an old Galveston neighborhood with its neat rows of oncelavish houses. The sun hung high, the day was hot and humid, a sure sign of an approaching storm. But that was the least of Luke’s worries. He had to get to Kit—before Derrick did.

Luke parked where he could watch Sanders approach the house and ring the doorbell. The house was large and sat on at least an acre of wooded land. Secluded, Luke thought. Ideal for his purposes.

And Sanders’s?

He watched Sanders ring the bell again and wait. No one appeared at the door.

Luke swore under his breath. What if Kit had also seen the news program on television last night—and had taken off again? And just when he was so close.

Luke saw Sanders turn as if he’d heard something in the backyard. As Sanders started around the side of the building, Luke climbed out of the car with his equipment and headed into the trees beside the house.

The oaks had grown large and thick, making a perfect place to hide. Luke put on the headset and picked up the sound of a baby whimpering.

Through the branches, he could make out a woman with two infants in a double baby stroller on a patio in the shade of a large old oak. She was bent over, cooing softly to the fussing infant, when Sanders walked up behind her.

“Hi, Kit,” Sanders said.

The woman jumped as if he’d touched her with a cattle prod. She spun around, fright evident in every line of her body. Even from this distance, Luke could see that she was ready to run. What in God’s name had happened in Montana to make her this afraid?

Luke feared he already knew the answer.

* * *

“WHERE’S DERRICK?” Kit cried, fighting back a scream as her gaze leaped to look behind Sanders. “Where is he?” She reached for the stroller, her only thought to get the babies inside to safety.

“Kit, I’m here alone.” Sanders had moved toward her, but stopped and held his hands out, palms up. She tightened her grip on the stroller, ready to run if she had to. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help me? Derrick sent you to find me.” She knew that Sanders acted as mediator, keeping peace and settling little problems for his older brother, and had since they were boys. Why else would he be here now?

“Kit, I’ve been worried sick about you,” Sanders said. “I’m so glad I finally found you.”

“How did you find me?” she said, glancing past him, afraid Derrick would appear at any moment.

“I saw you on TV last night.”

Just as she’d feared. “I’d hoped Derrick had stopped looking for me.”

Sanders smiled sadly, as if her innocence amazed him. “Kit, why did you run away in the first place?”

Didn’t he know? She edged a little closer to the house.

“I’m not here to hurt you. You can tell me what’s going on. I’m your friend.”

She looked into his eyes and saw the same kindness she’d always seen there. Sanders had been her only friend in Big Sky. The only one Derrick allowed her.

“Are we friends?” she asked. “You’re Derrick’s brother. You work for him. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”

“That’s not the only reason.” He glanced into the stroller at the baby in blue. “I heard I have a nephew. He’s adorable, Kit.”

She nodded, her pride in her son hard to contain. At one time, she’d been excited at the prospect of Sanders being an uncle to her baby. She’d wanted Andy to have the family she’d never had.

“What’s his name?” Sanders asked.

“Andrew. After my father.” She saw disapproval in Sanders’s eyes. Derrick had been determined the baby would be a boy—and would be named Derrick Killhorn Junior.

“Derrick’s out of his mind with worry.”

“I’m sure he is,” she said. “But not for the reasons you might think.”

“Kit, what’s going on? The last time I saw you was at the clinic. You were thrilled because the doctor had said you’d be having the baby within the week. The next thing I know, you’ve taken off without a word.”

Kit’s young charge began to whimper again, and she knelt down in front of the stroller to check her, at the same time watching Sanders out of the corner of her eye. What did she think he’d do? Grab Andy and take off with him? That was more Derrick’s style than Sanders’s.

She straightened to find Sanders smiling at his nephew as if he’d never seen anything quite so amazing. Her heart ached with the need to trust him, to trust someone. She reminded herself of the time Derrick had wanted her to have a risky test late in her pregnancy to determine the sex of the baby. She had refused. Sanders had sided with her, saying it was too dangerous. Derrick had been furious but he’d backed down. From then on, she’d trusted Sanders to be on her side when it really mattered.

“I left the doctor’s office that day to go to the construction site to see Derrick,” she said. Killhorn Condominium Complex, the largest development in the history of Big Sky, Derrick had bragged.

“Why didn’t you let me drive you?” Sanders asked now.

Did he really not know what happened that day? Kit felt a chill and glanced toward the oak grove behind the house. Sunlight caught in the branches and dropped shadows into the dense undergrowth. She had the horrible feeling that someone was out there, watching, listening. Derrick.

She shifted her gaze back to Sanders. Seven months ago. That’s when her life began to unravel. The day her husband’s ex-wife, Belinda, showed up at her door.

Belinda had stared at Kit’s swollen abdomen in shock. “I heard Derrick had a new wife but—”

“Derrick and I are expecting in June,” Kit had said quickly.

Belinda laughed. “I can see that you’re expecting, but that baby isn’t Derrick’s. I ought to know. I saw his test results. Derrick’s sterile.”

Sterile? Kit felt the earth crumble beneath her. She was one of the few people who knew Belinda could be telling the truth. Not even Sanders knew that the baby Kit carried wasn’t Derrick’s.

“That’s ridiculous,” Kit had said, fighting months of uneasiness about the odd circumstances surrounding her marriage. She clung to one statement her new husband had made. Derrick had promised her more babies, as many as she wanted. “What about the child you lost, the miscarriage?”

“What miscarriage?” Belinda gave Kit a pitying look. “I left Derrick because he tried to get me to secretly adopt a son for him. The man’s obsessed. He thinks not being able to father a son makes him less of a man.” Belinda shook her head. “And now he’s conned you into telling everyone this is his baby. He really got him an innocent this time.”

Kit had been stunned. Did Derrick want a son badly enough that he’d lie to her?

When she’d questioned him about Belinda’s claim that evening, he’d adamantly denied it, calling Belinda a liar. Kit had wanted to believe him. But the next day, when she’d seen Belinda at the doctor’s office with a black eye and a cut lip, she’d known the cause before Belinda even confirmed her suspicions. Derrick had done it because of what Belinda had told her.

“Why did you go to the job site without me?” Sanders asked again.

“I wanted to talk to Derrick about Belinda,” she said.

“Belinda? What lies is she spreading now? She’d do anything to hurt Derrick. I’m sure if you’d seen him on the job that day, he’d have straightened this whole thing out.”

“I did see him.”

Sanders frowned. “Derrick said he hadn’t seen you since that morning at the house.”

It came back in a flash of memory. Walking through the skeletal frame of the partially built block building, ducking beneath scaffolding, at first calling for Derrick, then moving forward silently as she followed the sound of raised voices. Deeper and deeper into the empty interior, she went, until she stood above the two men, looked down on them arguing below her.

And later, stumbling as she tried to flee, knocking over the stack of lumber. Her husband looking up at her. Had he really not seen her? “I saw him. I saw them both.”

Sanders looked confused. “Them? It was after quitting time. Was one of the crew still there?”

She nodded. “A young man. I heard Derrick call him Jason.”

Sanders closed his eyes and shook his head as if understanding had finally dawned. “Oh, Kit, you must have overheard the argument Derrick had with some college kid he’d fired.”

“It was more than an argument.”

“Come on, Derrick said the kid took a swing at him. But it couldn’t have been much of a fight, because it was over by the time I got there, and I couldn’t have been far behind you.”

“How did Derrick seem when you arrived?”

Sanders shrugged. “He was upset. He’d left the keys in his pickup and when he saw it was gone, he thought Jason had stolen it.”

“That was all he was upset about?”

“Well…” Sanders paused, then continued with a shrug, “You know how he feels about that truck. He was afraid the kid would wreck it. But then he realized you must have taken it.”

“What made him think that if he didn’t see me there?”

Sanders raised a brow. “The kid’s motorcycle was gone. And so were you. I’d told him you’d left the clinic before I’d arrived. Who else would dare to take Derrick’s new pickup?”

“You didn’t see anything at the job?” she asked hopefully.

He frowned. “Like what?”

Tears filled her eyes. She shook her head slowly. Derrick had told Sanders just enough to cover for himself. “I know what I saw.”

“What did you see, Kit?”

She blurted it out, desperate to say the words aloud, to finally tell someone. “I saw Derrick kill that man.”