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“It’s going to be okay.”
That’s what she kept telling herself. Every few minutes another memory of her summers at the ranch, when Adam shot the head off a rattle snake that was seriously too close to where they’d been horsing around, the time she slipped in the creek and Neil and Owen had strung a rope across the area and Paxton had dangled from his knees to catch her as she floated by, and so many others. There wasn’t anyone she would trust more with her son than Paxton and his family.
“And let the show begin.” Paxton pointed to the road below them.
Sirens were blaring, lights were flashing, and Ed was flying so fast Sandra bit down on her lower lip, worrying about her son at the hands of his lunatic father. Just ahead, Ed couldn’t see what she and Paxton could—a line of cars across the border, police cars waiting to nab him. Relief washed over her. She didn’t want that man having anything to do with her sweet boy.
“Guy is driving right into the waiting arms of police officials in two states. Lucky guy.” Ethan’s sarcasm was almost amusing… almost.
Just as Ed crossed the state line, and spotted his reception committee, he gunned it, racing even faster, clearly determined to plow through the barricade. Sandra’s heart skipped a beat, her grip on Paxton tightened, and before she could swallow and say a prayer, one by one Ed’s tires blew out and his car fishtailed but stopped right in the hands of the Oklahoma police, and most likely if Ian was there, the Texas Rangers.
The helo landed slightly back from the action. No point in blowing everyone about. Or giving Ed an opportunity to run on foot. Out of the helicopter, still holding on to Paxton’s hand, Sandra ran as fast as she could toward the commotion. Seeing Ed with his hands handcuffed behind him gave Sandra pause. Was that what she wanted?
The shrill sound of “Mommy” snapped her out of her moment of guilt. Ed Morton had made his own bed. Nothing that happened to him now was Sandra’s fault. Before she could squat to her son’s level, David flung himself at her. If not for Paxton holding her steady, her son would have easily knocked her over.
“I love you, Sweetie.” Sandra’s arms had never wrapped tighter around her son. Practically rocking him as she swayed from side to side, looking over his little shoulder, she faced Paxton and mouthed, Thank you.
Chapter Twenty-One
This Saturday had been a long time coming. Paxton had wanted to get a family baseball game together for the kids since he’d first learned of David’s interest in the sport. Since last week’s insane escapade with David’s father, the kid had been unusually quiet and even withdrawn. Having a normal, fun-filled family game seamed more important than ever.
“Did you take the bases outside?” Aunt Eileen stood in the middle of the kitchen, waving a large spoon around as she mixed the biggest bowl of mustard potato and egg salad he’d ever seen.
“Done.” His arms full carrying a massive tray of marinated ribs for the grill, Uncle Sean nodded at his wife. “And Finn checked the diamond lines from yesterday. Still visible and ready for the game.”
“And the bleachers?” His aunt returned the spoon to the bowl and continued blending.
“Done as well.” Connor slapped his hat against his leg and stomped his boots at the back door mat. “Also set up the west field for a little horseplay later on if the kids aren’t too tired.”
Aunt Eileen lifted her gaze from the bowl, paused, then turned to her nephew. “Wouldn’t tired kids be an oxymoron?”
A burst of laughter filled the room. The only person in the room at the moment with children, Connor managed to mumble through his mirth. “Good point.”
“I still think painting the lines on the field was a bit over the top.” Paxton hadn’t meant for the game to be such a production, but it shouldn’t surprise him that when his aunt heard of his plans, she’d go all out to make the day a huge event for family and friends. Once the game would be over, there’d be food and music, and knowing his aunt, there’d be dancing too.
The front door flew open, and carrying a large duffle in each hand, Quinn stomped into the house.
“Were you raised in a barn?” Aunt Eileen called from the kitchen. “Close the door.”
Quinn shook his head. “Sorry, but Sandra Lynn and David are—”
“Right behind him.” Sandra Lynn yanked her son’s cap off his head.
Anyone who had ever spent any length of time at the Farraday ranch knew that one of Aunt Eileen’s pet peeves was wearing hats in the house. Especially baseball caps, she would not hesitate to point out to her family and their friends that there was no sunshine in the living room.
A bit more clingy than usual this last week, David was pressed up against his mother.
“The kids are all out in the backyard.” Aunt Eileen stepped back and reached for a different plate. “If you go tell them to wash their hands, everyone can have one freshly baked chocolate chip cookie before the game starts.”
David’s eyes lit up and without any of the hesitation he’d shown all week, the kid sprinted through the house and out the back door.
“Cookies gets ’em every time.” Aunt Eileen smiled after the boy. “Good thing I baked extra this morning.”
With no one watching, Paxton stole a quick kiss and taking Sandra Lynn’s hand, squeezed it tightly in his.
Smiling up at him, she squeezed his hand back then turned to the kitchen. “I’ll have to remember that trick.”
“’Fraid not.” With a grin as wide as the house, his aunt smiled back at Sandra. “Only works for grandmothers and pseudo-grandmothers. You parents are stuck with rules.”
