Page 22 of Rancher to the Rescue

And the question burning in the back of her mind that wouldn’t let up. Who is your father?

Adam borrowed a car seat from Casey, who already had it strapped in the back seat of the truck by the time him and Prudence were ready to leave. He’d already programmed Prudence’s address into his phone’s GPS, so after brief instructions on proper car seat usage, Adam was on the road.

Prudence’s house was smack in the center of town. Some of the earliest settlers in Lone Star Pass were from Germany and they did their best to recreate home, or so his grandmother had told him. The downtown area was a blend of Gothic and Romanesque architecture built after a major city. He couldn’t remember which one and figured he should have paid better attention when his grandmother spoke. But then he had a lot of regrets when it came to what he should have done while she was alive. She was the talker between her and the Marshall, and loved to sing. Those were the few memories he had of her.

Speaking of his grandfather, had he always been so stern? Or had he become that way after his wife died? Adam couldn’t remember. All he knew was the man had married two other times. Had one divorce under his belt and buried his third wife two years ago. He had a reputation for being a ladies’ man despite being a married man. Adam could never be certain when that had started.

He glanced at the clock as he pulled in front of the two-story. There were lines of cars parked on either side of the street. He navigated through them, making sure he didn’t lose a side-mirror in the process. Being in town always made him want to loosen his collar.

It had taken an hour to get to Prudence’s house. She woke after eight this morning and they spent more than half an hour in the kitchen talking and drinking coffee. It would take another hour to drive back. They would need to be on the road in about an hour if they wanted to get home before the next feeding time.

Adam was realizing how much the early weeks of parenting were about being on a tight schedule and life revolving around bottles of formula.

“Think we need to bring in the diaper bag?” he asked.

“Never hurts since the diapers are in there,” she said, motioning toward the back seat. “In fact, I’m surprised she hasn’t—”

“Oh, she did. Four o’clock in the morning. Brax helped with clean up,” he said, wrinkling his nose just thinking about it.

“Bad memory?” she teased, her voice playful.

“Let’s just say I’m not taking the next one,” he shot back.

Prudence laughed. She exited the truck before he had a chance to get around and open the door for her. Call him old-fashioned but he would always offer.

She had the baby out of the car seat with a flick of her thumb. Since he wanted to be useful, he offered to take the diaper bag.

“Actually, do you mind holding her? Now that I think about it, I don’t have a key with me so I’ll have to go around back for the spare,” she said.

He shouldered the diaper bag and then took the baby. It wasn’t logical but she felt even smaller to him out here and he was suddenly afraid he would drop her.

“I’ll be a second,” Prudence said.

“I’d rather go with you, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t want either of these two out of his sight.

She glanced around before nodding. “Do you want me to carry something?”

“Nope. I got it.” He was getting more comfortable holding the baby outside.

As they passed the front porch, the squeak of a screen door caused his fight response to kick into high gear. A male figure sprinted away from the back of her house.

Prudence muttered the same curse he was thinking.

“Can you take her?” he asked.

She nodded as he handed Angel over.

“Stick as close to me as you can.” Adam was fast. He didn’t doubt his abilities there. But if he took off in a full sprint, he’d be leaving Prudence and the baby alone. So, basically, this situation was a no-win. Leave her and he would be leaving her vulnerable. Stay and the jerk who’d been inside her home would get away.

Adam ate up the real estate to the backyard, keeping Prudence close. He scanned the area. A series of chain link fences gave him plenty of visibility, but no one was outside. Not a homeowner. Not a kid. Not a dog.

Bad luck, he thought as tires squealed out front.

Adam jogged toward his truck. Again, a few seconds too late to see anything in between the vehicles. By the time he made it to the street, the vehicle had turned, and the dogs had caught on. He fished his cell out of his pocket and called the sheriff to the backdrop of howling and barking.

Lawler answered on the first ring. He sounded pre-occupied. Adam wasted no time giving the lawman an update.

“I’ll be right there,” Lawler said. “Don’t touch anything.”