Doctor, heal thyself, Ana thought, although strictly speaking she knew Jewel was a psychologist, not a physician.
“Is there any more word?” Ana asked, turning to the subject that concerned her most; the very thought that a baby-smuggling ring was operating in the area terrified her. More than once she had thought she should move on, take her unborn child to a safer place, but she knew the folly of that; she had found shelter here, in a climate where most looked upon her as an enemy, just another illegal come to milk the American system. Of course, she was nothing of the kind.
She was secure here at the Hopechest Ranch, and it was simply up to her to keep her baby safe.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Jewel answered. “But Adam will probably stop by later, and then I’ll know for sure.”
Ana smiled at the woman seventeen years her senior, and painfully wiser. “He is visiting more and more, Deputy Rawlings.”
At first the sheriff’s deputy had made Ana nervous, given her shaky immigration status. But the tall, strong man with the perfectly groomed dark hair and the always razor-creased uniform seemed only to have eyes for Jewel, which suited Ana just fine. Jewel deserved some happiness and his attention provided her benefactor—and herself, she admitted—with firsthand information on the ongoing investigation.
Jewel smiled, but absently. “Yes, he is.”
“You do not like him?”
“Of course I do. He’s been very kind to me.”
“But…?”
“I’m not ready for that.”
She didn’t clarify, and Ana didn’t ask. She had her own problems and wasn’t about to counsel anyone in an area where she had made so many mistakes herself. She had trusted where she shouldn’t have, and now she was paying the price. That one of the men she had trusted had been her own father didn’t absolve her. Once she had found the evidence of his true character, it seemed the signs had been so clear she couldn’t forgive herself for having missed them.
As for Alberto…she could not forgive herself for that, either.Yes, he was smooth, convincing, but so was her father.
Her baby kicked, mightily, as if the thoughts of traitorous men were unsettling to more than just her. She smiled as she put a hand over the spot.
“Kicking?” Jewel asked.
“Yes,” Ana said, her smile widening. And then, suddenly remembering, her smile vanished. “Oh, Jewel, I am so sorry. It must be terribly hard for you to have me here, to see me, with my baby.”
Jewel waved her to silence. “It’s all right, Ana. I will never get over the loss of my baby, but I don’t expect the world to stop turning and other women lucky enough to be pregnant to hide, just to spare my feelings.”
Ana studied the benefactor who was rapidly becoming a friend. “You are very wise,” she said.
“What I am,” Jewel said frankly, “is very tired.”
“I know,” Ana said. “Is there anything I can do for you? Something else I can take over, so you can rest? Perhaps you might have better luck sleeping in the daytime?”
If Jewel was offended at the suggestion, or bothered by Ana’s knowledge of her sleepless nights, she didn’t let it show.
“I’ll let you know. Thank you.” A smile flashed across Jewel’s face. “Unless you want to go riding with the older girls over at the Bar None this afternoon. I’m sure Clay can find a nice, gentle horse for you. You haven’t left the ranch since you got here.”
Ana was sure by Jewel’s laugh that her fear must have shown in her face.
“Even if I could get this—” she gestured at her own bulk “—into a saddle, I wouldn’t. Horses and I…no.”
“You’re in Texas now, girl. Better learn to love them.”
“I do,” Ana said. “They’re beautiful creatures. But I prefer to admire them from a distance.”
“You’ll get over it,” Jewel predicted. “It’s in the water. And soon,” Jewel warned her with a smile, “I’m going to make you take a break and have some fun.”
Ana retreated to her room after that, wondering if the word fun would ever again be in her lexicon. It seemed a very, very long time since she had done anything but worry and plan and pray.
She stretched, trying to ease her aching back. If Jewel wouldn’t take her advice about a nap this afternoon, perhaps she herself would. Along about three she was usually beginning to feel the strain of the extra weight she was carrying. Her feet would swell, her back would throb, and there would be nothing more welcome than to lie down for a while.
Except then there would be no distraction, nothing to keep her from dwelling on the unpleasant facts of her situation. She was twenty-two, unmarried and not likely to marry. She was about to become a mother, with a past in shambles behind her. But she was determined to build a life for herself and her baby.
She had never felt more alone.
And then the baby moved again. Ana set her jaw and her courage.
She was not alone. She had a tiny, helpless human being depending on her. A child she already loved beyond measure. She would make sure that child had a chance.
She would do whatever she had to to make that happen.
By the time he reached his small, nondescript motel room, Ryder was feeling the too-familiar sensation of physical weariness coupled with being mentally amped up. It would be another day of restless sleep. He was definitely a night owl and used to sleeping in daylight—that was, according to Clay, one of his biggest failings—but doing nothing made him crazy.
“Buenos dias, mijo.”
With his key—no modern card key for this old place—still in the door to his room, he looked over his shoulder to see the source of the “Good morning.” It was Elena Sanchez, the tiny, round woman who ran this place with her husband, Julio. They’d been married, she had told Ryder at one point, nearly fifty years. The concept of being with one person that long boggled him.
“Hola, mamacita,” he said, teasing her about her tendency to mother him, even though she’d only known him a week. She also had amenably adapted her cleaning schedule to his, so that she never disturbed him when he was trying to sleep, but his room was always scrupulously clean; he appreciated that.
“You have been out all night again,” she said.
“Working,” he told her; something about the woman and her easy concern for a stranger made him want to reassure her.
Yeah. Like she’d be really reassured, considering how she feels family is everything, knowing you were out spying on your own brother’s ranch. Better yet, tell her you’re doing it because it got you out of prison, that ought to stop her worrying in a hurry.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“I just got here,” he explained.
“Then you come eat with us. There is plenty.”
“Thank you, but—” He stopped as she waved him to silence. And realized with a little jolt that he liked her worrying about him. That revelation put him off his game, and she won.
“You must eat,” she said briskly, and bustled off, leaving him shaking his head at how neatly she’d trapped him. There was no way for him not to join the couple at their breakfast table yet again