And just within the boundaries of her own twenty acres, he could so easily be lost. Running, now, she shouted his name as she searched farther and farther from the house.
Only a distant owl returned her calls.
Her heart pounding, she slowly turned in a full circle, watching for any sort of movement.
Nothing.
With a cry of frustration, she ran back to the house to grab her cell phone and call for help. Did 911 even work out here? Surely there’d be local police, or a county sheriff, and maybe even a dog that tracked.
She lunged up the steps and breathlessly pawed through the packing materials on the kitchen counter until her fingers curled around the familiar shape of her cell phone.
She flipped it open to punch in the numbers, then stared in disbelief at the faint message blinking on the screen.
Low battery.
Her hand at her throat, she slumped against the counter, her lungs raw from the exertion. Then she hunted through the clutter again until she found her truck keys. Please, God, let me find my little boy!
At a sharp knock at the door she froze. She was a woman alone in an unfamiliar, isolated place…though that barely registered.
I don’t have time for this! I’ve got to find my son.
She took a deep ragged breath, gripped her keys in one hand and hurried to the front window.
A big gray horse stood placidly in her yard, tied to the gate. A horse?
The front door opened with a crash, and Cody’s excited voice echoed through the house like a gift direct from God.
“Mom! Mom! I got a ride on a horse! And it was huge, and beautiful and the cowboy said I could ride again if you say it’s okay. Mom!”
Overwhelmed with relief, she turned away from the window, still gripping the curtain for support.
Cody barreled into her just as she caught sight of a tall stranger inside her front door, silhouetted against the lamplight of the living room.
“I…I…” She closed her eyes and wrapped Cody in a tight hug until he wiggled free, then took a steadying breath and looked up to the door. “W-who are you?”
The man stepped into a pool of light, and she found herself staring into Ryan Gallagher’s eyes.
“How easily you seem to forget,” he said coolly. “At least you’re consistent.”
Cody anxiously tugged at her sleeve. “Please, Mom. He says I can have another ride. Please? You said we’d get horses when we moved, and this one is beautiful. Please, Mom!”
Kristin stared down at him, then shifted her attention back to Ryan. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”
“You city folks might let your kids run, but you can’t do that here. Not with a child who doesn’t know the area or how to get back home.” His tone was excessively patient, as if he was trying to explain something to a person with limited mental capacity. “Your boy was over a half mile into the Four Aces.”
“I’ve been searching for him everywhere. I just came inside to call for help.”
Ryan glanced at the TV, which was on and inexplicably now coming in clear as a bell. He raised a brow as he turned back to her, clearly imagining that she’d simply been sitting in here watching a rerun of Friends. “If I hadn’t been riding this evening, Cody might’ve kept going in the wrong direction, in a remote pasture that holds several hundred unpredictable mother cows and calves. He could’ve been trampled, or developed hypothermia by later tonight.”
Kristin shuddered. “He is never to leave this property. He knows that.”
“We’ve also got hunting leases on that land. A careless hunter might see a sudden movement and shoot before thinking.” Ryan glanced down at the boy and paused. “Keep him home, and make sure you know where he is.”
His obvious assumption of negligence rankled for a split second, but he was right. She shouldn’t have let Cody out of her sight, and she could only feel gratitude and heartfelt relief that Ryan had come to his rescue.
“I can’t thank you enough for bringing Cody back,” she said quietly. “If there’s ever any way I can repay you—”
“Please, Mom,” Cody begged. “Can I ride again?”
Kristin gently took his beloved face in her hands. “The answer is no. Absolutely no. You ran off, and you never said a word. You left the yard, which is against the rules, and this nice man had to interrupt his evening to bring you back.”
She straightened and pointed to the stairs. “One hour, time-out. Now.”
His eyes filled with sudden tears, but he slowly trudged away, his head bowed, looking for all the world like someone headed for death row.
“I’m really sorry for all your trouble,” Kristin said, turning back to Ryan. “I promise—”
But he was already gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MOMENT KRISTIN opened the door of her aunt RaeJean’s beauty salon, she knew it was a mistake to stop by on a busy Saturday morning…especially with Cody in tow.
“Lord almighty!” RaeJean Barker exclaimed, tossing aside her comb and brush. “Aren’t you just as cute as a sack full o’ puppies today?”
Cody cringed against Kristin’s side and tried to wiggle away, but RaeJean was faster.
She barreled up to him, gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze, then tapped under his chin with one crimson-tipped fingernail. “And aren’t them just the prettiest eyes? Just like your momma’s.” She winked at him as she pulled a shiny fifty-cent piece out of the pocket of her pink uniform jacket. Flipping it high in the air, she caught it and offered it on her outstretched palm. “You look like a cowboy in need of a Coke.”
He stared up at her, his mouth open, and Kristin prayed he wouldn’t comment on RaeJean’s flamered curls or turquoise eye shadow. She was, undoubtedly, the most colorful person he’d ever seen.
“Can you say thanks?” Kristin prodded.
He mumbled something and dropped his gaze to his Nike runners, his ears pink.
RaeJean beamed her approval as she hiked a thumb toward the back of the salon. “Minifridge is back there. Or you can go to the vending machine next door, right in front of the saddle shop. They got more flavors, but it’s not near as cold.”
Cody nodded shyly, then shuffled across the room as if he were crossing enemy territory.
No wonder.
Nothing much had changed here since Kristin’s childhood. Fluffy pink curtains hung at the windows, pink flamingo wallpaper still covered the walls. Ornate, gold-framed mirrors topped the two cluttered workstations, matching the heavy gold wall sconces and frames on the pictures of outdated hairstyles.
The explosion of baroque decorations and bawdy femininity, coupled with the sharp scents of bleach and perm chemicals, nearly took Kristin’s own breath away.
She glanced over the row of women settled under the six dryers at the back of the room, who were watching them with avid interest. Women who, when they walked out the door, would be wearing identical, tightly curled helmets reminiscent of the 1960s. Whatever the request, RaeJean always proceeded to do exactly what she thought best, and that was the one style she did for “women of a certain age.”
Which explained, unfortunately, the number of do-it-yourself haircuts in town and the exodus of the well-to-do to the upscale shops in San Antonio.
“Um…maybe Cody and I should stop back later.