A Father For Her Baby. B.J. Daniels
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about the baby?” Sanders asked. “You won’t be running alone now.”
“I know,” she said, hearing the panic in her own voice.
“Kit, be reasonable. How long can you and the baby last on the run? That isn’t any kind of life for your son.”
She knew he was right, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t stay here. And she couldn’t go to the authorities. Derrick Killhorn and his family were too powerful.
“You need some place to stay until Jason is found or I can prove your story. Somewhere you feel safe,” Sanders said. “Maybe…” He seemed to hesitate.
Kit looked up at him hopefully.
“I know someone who has a place near Huntsville,” he said after a moment. “She’s a friend from college.”
Kit wanted to grasp on to the idea as if it were a life raft in a stormy sea. But she hesitated. It seemed too easy. “Does Derrick know this friend?”
Sanders looked disappointed in her. “Kit, you have to trust someone. If you can’t trust me, then who do you have?”
The truth of his words hurt. She had no one but Sanders—and he knew it.
“All right,” she said, praying she was doing the right thing.
He looked relieved. “I’ll take you myself.”
“No, you’re supposed to meet Derrick at the airport. You’re the only one who can convince him to leave me and Andy alone.”
“All right. Then I’ll hire a limo to take you to Huntsville.”
“I don’t need a limo.”
“I want you and the baby to be comfortable,” Sanders said, sounding a little hurt.
She nodded, ashamed for being so ungrateful.
“When can you be ready? I think the sooner you leave, the better, don’t you?”
Just knowing Derrick would be flying in made her want to be out of Galveston as quickly as possible. “I don’t have much. Besides…I’ve already started packing.”
Sanders nodded as if not surprised. “I’ll have the driver pick you up in an hour-and-a-half.”
“Thanks.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Here, I want you to have this so I can make sure you’re all right on the trip to Huntsville.” He pressed the phone into her hand. “Keep it turned on in your purse.”
She nodded, touched by his gesture.
“Don’t worry,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m taking care of everything.”
When the limo pulled up in front of the house early, Kit was ready. She’d said goodbye to Tim and his daughter, as difficult as that was. Tim thought she was reconciling with her estranged husband. It was best to let him think that. She didn’t want to involve him and his daughter anymore than she already had.
He’d insisted on carrying her bag out to the waiting car. Kit felt as if she were always saying goodbye to the people she cared about.
But now that Derrick had found her hiding place, she had no choice. She wouldn’t be safe at the Andersons. Nor would the Andersons be safe from Derrick if she stayed.
She picked up the baby carrier, with her son sleeping peacefully inside, and, praying she’d made the right decision, headed for the waiting limo.
As she walked, she found herself glancing around, still feeling uneasy. She was relieved, however, to see no unfamiliar cars parked along the wide, treelined street. Knowing Derrick would be flying in terrified her more than she’d thought possible. What if he’d taken an earlier flight?
As she and Tim approached the long, sleek black car, the uniformed driver emerged from behind the wheel. Kit watched him move to the rear and open the trunk, unable to hide her surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this man didn’t fit her inexperienced image of a chauffeur. He looked too fit, his shoulders too broad, his arms too powerful, his body too compact and controlled. No, this man looked less like a chauffeur than a bodyguard—or a hired thug.
Her heart suddenly seemed a drum that she could not quiet. Did Sanders think she needed protection on the way to Huntsville? Was he worried that he wouldn’t be able to talk Derrick into returning to Montana? All too easily panicked, she felt the way she had the day she left Montana. Here she was again. Running for her life. But this time with her baby son. What would she have done without Sanders here?
She hugged Andy to her as the driver took her single bag from Tim, placed it in the trunk and closed the lid.
“You’re sure you’re going to be all right?” Tim asked.
She nodded, dragging her gaze away from the limo driver to reassure Tim with a smile, to reassure herself. “We’ll be fine.”
The driver touched the brim of his cap as he moved past Kit to open the rear door. He looked strong and capable as both a driver and a bodyguard. He turned toward her, reaching for the baby carrier and diaper bag.
Reluctantly, she handed the carrier to him, watching closely as he leaned into the back of the car. He quickly strapped Andy into the rear seat, as if he’d done this sort of thing dozens of times before, and she began to relax a little.
As he stepped back, she noticed he wore a pair of worn brown cowboy boots. Only in Texas, she thought. Or Montana.
He stood back to hold the door for her, waiting, his eyes downcast, his demeanor subservient. And yet, Kit sensed a wariness in him that seemed to confirm her suspicion that Sanders had hired her a lot more than a limo driver.
“Good luck, Kit,” Tim said. “If there’s anything I can do…”
“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Andy.”
She had wanted to say more, but afraid she’d cry, she quickly ducked into the back seat of the car beside her son. She was even more afraid she’d break down and tell Tim the truth. The last thing she would do was put any more lives in jeopardy.
The driver closed the door and hurried around to slide behind the wheel. Kit looked back through the dark tinted glass—one final goodbye to Tim and the sanctuary she’d found in Texas—as the limo pulled away from the curb Beside her, Andy fell into the sleep of angels and babies.
“Please let me know if there is anything you need, Mrs. Killhorn,” the driver said.
“Thank you,” she said, surprised by how deep yet soft his voice was, and how completely free of a southern accent.
Kit quickly dismissed the driver from her thoughts, confident that Sanders had seen to her safety in every possible way. As the car sped down the street, she didn’t look back again.
“I’ll give you and the baby some privacy. Just use the intercom.”
The driver hit a power switch, and a tinted window went up between them, leaving her in the silent darkness of the back seat with only her sleeping son and her cell phone.
Kit watched the houses along the wide streets of old Galveston blur by: gleaming white works of art, ornate with spacious verandas and gentle roof lines, lounging in the shade of live oaks and palms under the Texas sun.
But the sky was filling with ominous dark storm clouds.
She closed her eyes, trying not to worry. About the past. Or the future. Sanders had seen to it that she and Andy were safe for the time being, she thought, glancing toward the privacy window that hid the limo driver. She snuggled against the deep leather of the seat. Warm