Ladd Haven (35 page)

The breath escaped
Felicity.
Was she
serious
?

“
He’s never laid a hand on
you, has he?” her grandmother pressed.

“
No... But he hit my mother.
Isn’t that enough?”

Victoria cast a withering look. “So she
claims.”

Felicity gaped. “Claims?”

“
Sweetheart, I’m sorry to be
the one to break it to you. I know how hard it is for a child to
hear ill words spoken against their parent, an adult they love and
adore, but your mother isn’t the most reliable source. She’s been
known to tell half-truths.”

Angered by the woman’s patronizing
tone, Felicity demanded, “What are you talking about? My mother has
never told a lie in her entire life!”

“
Really?” Victoria raised
her chin. “Perhaps you should speak with Officer Gavin. He might
tell you a different story.”

“
I don’t believe you,”
Felicity snapped. “You’re just saying these things so I’ll think my
father is the good guy here.”

“
Isn’t he?”

At her grandmother’s intransigence, all
Felicity’s hopes for reason and compassion squashed flat. “No. He’s
an alcoholic. He needs help. I would have thought you’d be
interested in helping him.”

Setting her mouth in a hard line,
Victoria rose from the chair. She stared down her nose at Felicity
and said, “I think we’re finished here.”

Felicity shot up from her seat. She was
failing, losing her last chance to save Troy from a horrible
injustice being done by her family, and she couldn’t let it happen.
“Don’t you care about him? Don’t you want to see him get the help
he needs? You’re his mother. You of all people should want what’s
best for him.”

Victoria linked arms across her chest
and replied contemptuously, “What I care about is wasting time
listening to a child who thinks she’s entitled to insult her
father.”

“
I’m only speaking the
truth.”

“
You’re mindlessly spewing
the venom of your mother. It’s predictable but unfortunate.”
Flicking an insulting glance, Victoria added, “And just like your
mother, you don’t know half of what you think you know, yet you
insist on throwing your opinion around as though it were the
gospel. How stupid of me to think we could actually have a
relationship despite her.”

Emotions crashed and pitched in
Felicity’s heart. Optimism popped like a balloon. Victoria Foster
was denying her son had any trouble with alcohol. It was as if she
had built walls around her, walls between her and the truth. Anyone
could see Jack Foster had an issue with drinking. Her own husband
didn’t permit it anywhere near his home or ranch. Why was Mrs.
Foster acting this way?

“
Shall I escort you to the
door?” she asked.

Felicity shook her head, wracked by
despair. “No. I can find my way out.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Annie sat rigid in her seat as Cal
drove. Hands clenched in her lap, she scanned the roadway for signs
of her daughter. With each passing mile, her heart sank deeper into
the pit of her stomach. Casey was seven months pregnant. She should
not be walking this far. She should not be alone. Who could she
have called? Ashley and Fran hadn’t heard from her. Troy didn’t
know where she was. Delaney, Malcolm—no one. Maybe someone she knew
drove by and picked her up. It was possible. Maybe she called
Jimmy. Fran said he wasn’t at the diner. Maybe he was with
Casey.

“
It’ll be okay,” Cal said
quietly, as though reading her thoughts. Cupping a hand over hers,
he squeezed. “We’ll find her.”

Annie didn’t dare look at him. She
merely latched onto to his grasp like the lifeline that it was.
Reassuring words aside, she understood the reality. It was possible
Casey had met with foul play. Unthinkable, but possible.

Troy raced out of the lobby headed for
the street. Mr. Foster said he’d check the roads and to sit tight.
But if Casey was headed here on foot, maybe she’d made it. Maybe
she was in sight from the hotel drive. He stared down the two-lane
road—no no sign of her. His pounding heart constricted. Casey’s mom
said she’d call the diner. If Casey was there, she’d let him know.
He glanced toward the hotel, angst mounting. Mr. Ward had not
called him back. Translated: Mrs. Foster had not called to tell him
she’d found Casey. Turning on his heel, Troy took off running for
the trail that led to the stables. It was the last place Casey was
supposed to be, but she could have made it there without him seeing
her. An unlikely prospect but plausible. She could have gone up
while he was in the lobby.

Running past the history shack that had
replaced Old man Ernie’s cabin, Troy noticed a few guests had
exited, staring at him curiously. Probably wondering why some guy
was running through the property. Troy didn’t care about the
stares. He couldn’t waste time walking. If anything happened to
Casey, he didn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t live without her.
They’d been through too much. He’d worked too hard to get back to
her, and despite all his mistakes, she was giving him a second
chance.

Third, but who was counting?

It was a chance he wasn’t going to
blow. There was too much riding on it.

Racing through the shaded patch of
trees, up the incline, Troy drove himself faster. Boots pounded
over clay and gravel, every step reverberating in his chest. A
barrage of thought thrashed through his brain, most of it ugly. If
someone harmed Casey, he’d kill him. With his bare hands he’d kill
anyone who laid a hand on her, on his baby. Absolutely—without
hesitation—he’d kill them.

Slamming a hand to the barn for
support, Casey clutched the door frame for support, groaning as
another cramp wound through. Her spasms had grown into full blown
cramps, bad cramps, the kind that had to be associated with
delivery—a delivery that was too soon!

She might not have ever
delivered a baby before, but she knew these cramps were too strong
to be casual. Casey lifted her head, sweat dripping into her eyes,
stinging. She blinked, wiped them away. She was hot, her bra soaked
with perspiration, her legs rubbery weak, but she was here. She
stepped inside the barn.
She’d made
it
.

Felicity walked into the diner, her
mind a jumble of confusion. She didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t
imagined the meeting with Mrs. Foster to go as it had. She’d been
floored by the abrupt shift, the harsh words. She never expected
the woman to turn ugly so quickly. One minute she was sweet and
gracious, the next she was a hissing snake. Quick to insult, quick
to bite back. She’d acted as though Felicity had purposely come to
insult her and her son and she was fighting back with everything
she had.

Ashley Fulmer rose from a nearby booth,
leaving Fran, Lacy Ward and her daughter Emma Jane. She hurried to
Felicity’s side. Dressed in fuchsia from head to toe, Ashley’s blue
eyes held brevity that seemed misplaced next to the glittery
ornamentation of her blouse. “Darlin’? Are you okay?”

Felicity nodded. Tear sprang to her
eyes. “Fine.”

Ashley hugged Felicity to her. Her
generous figure enveloped her in soft cushiony comfort and heavy
perfume. Ashley led Felicity to the table of women, gently guiding
her to a seat. “You don’t look fine. Talk to me. What’s the matter?
Is it Troy?”

Fran and Lacy looked at her, their
faces mirroring Ashley’s concern. Fran’s brown eyes turned hawkish,
sharp and alert against the red of her hair. Lacy’s blue eyes
became oceans of upset within the porcelain cream of her
complexion. A near twin image to Casey’s mom, Annie, with her shiny
straight black hair and slender figure, Lacy held her baby close,
rapt with attention. From within Lacy’s arms, Emma Jane smiled
open-mouthed and made a squeak as she jabbed a chubby leg into the
air.

“
I went to see Victoria
Foster,” Felicity told them. “I thought if I talked to her, she’d
understand that supporting Jack against Troy wasn’t the right thing
to do. That maybe she could get my father help for his drinking
problem instead of supporting him in his charges against
Troy.”

Ashley’s thickly-mascaraed eyes
rounded. There was no cheer in her gaze. “I’m sorry,
darlin’.”

“
I don’t get it. Why is she
so blinded?”

Ashley looked to Fran. Both were
solemn, both silent, as though they shared a secret.

“
Troy could go to jail for
something he didn’t do. It will ruin his life.” Fear returned in a
rush, echoed in the quiet of Ashley’s razor-sharp
expression.

“
There’s a lot you don’t
know, darlin’, a history that has nothing to do with you and
everything to do with Victoria. She’s not a happy woman, not when
it comes to the Wilkins family, anyway.”

Felicity clung to Ashley’s every word.
She spoke with a calm certainty leading Felicity to believe she
held the answers. Fran sat mum, her face a billboard of support.
“But why?”

“
She and your grandmother
share a past.”

“
They knew each
other?”

“
In so many words, yes. More
they knew
of
each
other. They shared a common tie to Gerald.”

“
To Gerald? What kind of
tie?”

“
The stranglin’
kind.”

Troy tore into the stables, searching
up and down corridors. Pumped from the run, he peered in and around
stalls. “Casey?”

Horse ears perked and twitched as
animals turned toward him as he strode through. Was she here? Had
anyone seen her? Stopping suddenly, he ran back to the office.
Lights out, it was empty. Miss Delaney had gone for the day, but
that didn’t mean the stables were empty. He knew for a fact some of
the staff stayed late. At the moment he saw no one.

Troy ran outside, checked
the perimeter of the building. Again there was no one. He dashed
back inside, forcing his mind to think. Pressing hands to the sides
of his head, he willed an answer to appear.
Casey—
where are you
?

His head shot up. The barn. Casey might
think he was in the barn. That’s where she found him the last time
he was here. Troy sprinted from the stables.

Shuffling farther into the barn, each
and every step was more delicate than the previous. Through the
opposite end of the building, Casey could see the stables. White
wood was washed with yellow, the metal rooftop gleaming in soft
silver. A beautiful sight to behold. Doubling over in pain, Casey
gripped the underbelly of her stomach as another cramp wrenched
through her midsection. Wetness warmed between her thighs. “Oh,
no!” Casey cried out. “This can’t be happening!”

Fear dribbled down into her spine as
warm liquid streamed between her thighs. She clutched her crotch,
overwhelmed by a dull pressure. Totally soaked. This was bad. This
was really, really bad. It felt like the baby was
pushing.

She had to get help—now. Easing down
onto a bale of hay, one of a pile stacked in the corner, she
reached a shaky hand into her dress pocket and seized the square
metal of her phone. Hair lay matted against her forehead, her arms
and legs slick with sweat A few pieces of hay stuck to her legs as
she pressed the number for her mother. Jabbing phone to her ear,
she heard it ringing. A cramp cut through her. “Ooww!”

“
Casey!” Her mother screamed
into the phone. “Where are you? What’s happening? Are you
okay?”

Too many questions. “I’m in the barn,
at the hotel.” Tears swamped her lids, blurring her vision. “I
think the baby is coming!”

“
What
?”

As expected, her mother’s voice was
frantic, but Casey was feeling the same. She was worried. It was
time to panic. “The baby—I think I’m going into labor. I’m having
really painful cramps and they’re coming all the time.” Another
warm surge moistened her underwear. She pulled her hand away to see
it tinged with red. “I’m bleeding!”

“
Stay where you are. We’ll
be right there.”

“
Okay,” she stammered,
clamping a hand back between her legs. A shiver rocked her body.
She wasn’t cold.
She was
scared
.

“
Is Troy with
you?”

“
No. I don’t know where he
is,” she murmured, the seriousness of her condition sinking
in.

“
Okay. We’re on our way.
Stay on the phone with me.”

Casey nodded but couldn’t speak.
Plunking her gaze to the hay-covered cement floor, she envisioned
having a baby in the midst of dirt and dust and hay. She cringed,
groaned as a sharp pain knifed across her lower belly folding her
in two. Deep and severe, it continued for several long seconds
while she clutched her stomach with both hands. Pressure to push
mounted, like the baby wanted out right now!

This couldn’t be happening. This
couldn’t be happening!

Allowing her gaze to glaze over, Casey
could hear muted shrieks from her phone, but had no energy to
respond. Every ounce she had was overwhelmed by the baby inside her
body, the pain.