Major Nanny

Chapter Eight

A thousand terrifying scenarios rampaged through Stacy’s mind as she tried to remember when she’d last seen her son. She’d gotten involved in the conversation with Charlotte almost immediately, but Zachary was always so good about sticking close to her, and she was generally attentive.

If he’d left her side without her noticing, he must have sneaked away. And Zachary didn’t normally sneak.

“Zachary?” Charlotte called out, looking more and more scared.

“He wouldn’t have left unless he saw something that interested him,” Stacy told Charlotte. “Maybe he saw someone on horseback?”

“Or one of his friends he obsesses over?”

“Let’s fan out.” Stacy tamped down her paralyzing panic so she could function again. “He didn’t have time to go far. We just have to find out where he went.”

As Charlotte hurried down the street toward the bank, calling Zachary’s name, Stacy went the opposite direction, her heart pounding like a timpani in her chest. A sense of disorientation lingered, but she forced aside the crimson veil of panic and reoriented herself as quickly as she could.

You’re in Freedom, Texas. You know this place like the back of your hand by now. So does Zachary. So where would he go? What would interest him enough to make him sneak away?

She checked at Talk of the Town first. Zachary liked the diner as well as he liked any place in town. Faith and the other workers there knew about his condition and treated him well even when he was being a complete pest. Plus, if she put out the alert there, news of her missing son would be around town in minutes-even better than an Amber alert.

She’d barely set foot in the place when she heard a man’s voice call her name. There was no missing the Georgia drawl or the deep timbre of his baritone voice. She looked up to find Harlan McClain sitting at a booth, waving her over. And across from him sat Zachary, reaching across the table to pluck a fry from Harlan’s lunch plate.

“Lose something?” Harlan asked.

Relief overwhelmed Stacy, making her legs tremble. “Zachary, you scared me to death! Why did you wander off like that? You know we’ve talked about that!”

Zachary looked up at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I saw Harlan and I had to say hello.”

“You had to, huh?” Stacy tried to calm down, not sure what she wanted to do more-hug her son or shake him for scaring the life out of her. She saw Harlan watching her with interest, as if trying to read her thoughts. “Sorry he bothered you.”

“I’m sorry he scared you. But he’s no bother. It’s no fun eating alone.” He shoved the squeeze bottle of ketchup toward Zachary, who grabbed it and squirted a ribbon of the sauce onto his purloined French fry.

“You should have called me the moment he came in.” The scolding he deserved came out halfhearted, to her chagrin. They were just sort of heart-melting together, she thought, watching her son mimic Harlan’s movements. Zachary could barely remember Anthony. A boy needed a father, and Zachary seemed determined to find one, on his own if necessary.

If she didn’t know his heart would be broken when it ended, she might be inclined to encourage Zachary’s newfound fascination with Harlan. Harlan McClain seemed lonely-another point against his being married-and he also seemed to genuinely appreciate her son, with all his quirks. God knew, she’d given him more than enough reason to back away from her and Zachary last night, hadn’t she?

And yet, here he was, being kind to her son, letting him filch food right off his plate.

“I did try. You must have your phone off.”

She pulled her phone from her purse and found that she’d put it on vibrate that morning during their meeting and had never switched it back to ring. “Sorry. I guess I was so freaked out I didn’t feel it vibrating.”

“You hungry?” Harlan asked her. “My food just got here. Y’all could join me.”

“I’m hungry,” Zachary said in a plaintive tone.

“Double-teaming me, are you?”

“We can make it a working lunch if you like,” Harlan said. “I spent my morning going over that list of ranch staffers you compiled. Thought I’d pick your brain about a few of them.”

The adrenaline that had driven her into the diner was leaking away as if someone had unplugged a drain. Her wobbly knees made the decision for her. She slid into the booth next to Zachary. “Let me call someone first.” She made a quick call to Charlotte and told her she’d found Zachary safe and sound. Then she turned her attention back to Harlan. “Okay. Pick away.”

Harlan’s lips curved, eliciting another appearance of the dimples that she was beginning to find downright fascinating. “How about we get you two some lunch first?” He waved at Faith, the diner owner, who was wiping down the counter at the front. She smiled and waved back, tucking the rag under the counter and grabbing a menu from the holder on the counter.

“Your usual?” she asked Stacy, then bent to look Zachary in the eye. “And chicken fingers and apple slices for Zachary?”

Zachary nodded. “And can we get an apple for the horses?”

“I’ll sneak one just for you.” Faith smiled brightly at the little boy. She had a brand-new baby of her own, no doubt napping somewhere in the back. Stacy wondered how she did it.

The answer to her question emerged seconds later from the back of the diner, holding tiny little Kayleigh in his muscular arms. Faith’s fiancé, Matt, cooed at the little girl, his face one big smile.

Matt spotted Faith standing at their table and made a beeline for her, looking nearly as besotted at the sight of her as he had been when he’d been talking to Faith’s baby. “She laughed!” he announced without preamble. “I made her laugh.”

Faith’s eyes lit up. “Are you sure it wasn’t gas?”

“It was a laugh! Watch.” Matt made a silly face at the baby and, sure enough, little Kayleigh responded with a gurgling noise that sounded for all the world like a little chuckle.

Stacy felt a squirming sensation in her chest. Zachary had laughed at three months old. His first two years, he’d seemed normal in every way. His problems weren’t obvious until later.

Faith grinned at Stacy and Harlan. “Did you hear that?”

“I did,” Stacy admitted, smiling back at her and sending up a little prayer that Kayleigh would live a gloriously uncomplicated and happy life.

She glanced at Harlan, a little curious to see how he was reacting to the Kayleigh show going on beside their table.

He was looking down at his plate, his expression uncomfortable.

She felt another squirming sensation in her belly, this one hotter and queasier. So, Harlan McClain didn’t like babies.

Or, she thought as she watched Matt bend and kiss Faith as if the rest of the world had disappeared for them, was it just the idea of happily ever after in general that Harlan found so hard to handle?

“Matt, hate to interrupt this nauseating display,” Harlan said with a smile that Stacy didn’t entirely buy, “but aren’t you supposed to be working with Wade on those background checks I need by Friday?”

Matt shot him a black look. “Who died and made you Bart Bellows?”

Harlan’s smile faded. “Someone’s trying to kill the governor. I’d think that would be a top priority for everyone around here, not just Stacy and me.”

Matt dragged his blazing black eyes away from Harlan’s face to settle on Stacy’s. He gave her a look of bleak sympathy. “I’ll get back to it as soon as I finish lunch. Or are you the only one allowed to eat, boss?”

Harlan’s expression softened. She thought she might even see a hint of red rising in his neck, as if he was aware he’d overstepped with Matt Soarez. “I’m sorry. Just having one of those days.”

“Worse than yesterday?” Matt softened, too, turning the baby around to pat her on the back as she started fussing. “I don’t imagine it was fun seeing the ex again-”

Harlan’s gaze angled to meet Stacy’s briefly, then turned back to Matt. He forced another smile. “It was fine. She’s getting married again, so I’m off the alimony hook.”

“Really?” Matt grinned, seeming to take Harlan’s answer at face value. Stacy was beginning to wonder whether all men had a touch of Asperger’s syndrome, as bad as they were at reading subtext in conversations. “When’s the happy day?”

“I don’t know. Sometime soon. She said her lawyer would be in touch.”

Zachary tugged at her sleeve, drawing her attention. “Mommy, we can’t be late for the riding lesson today.”

With a start of surprise, Stacy glanced at her watch. It was nearly one. The lesson started at one-thirty, and Zachary hated to be late for anything, but especially for his riding lessons. To her relief, she saw Faith approaching with their orders. “Faith, can we get that to go? I have to drive Zachary out to the Long K for his riding lessons, and you know how he is about being late-”

“Sure thing,” Faith said with a smile of understanding, heading back toward the kitchen to prepare the orders for takeout. She dropped a kiss on her baby’s downy head on the way, and managed a quick peck for Matt, as well.

“I’m sorry, Harlan-I have to take Zachary to the Long K. But he stays there for the afternoon and plays with the twins after his lessons, so I’ll be able to give you my total attention until five. Okay?” Even as she asked the question, her stomach turned a little flip. After her scare earlier, the thought of leaving Zachary behind for someone else to take care of gave her the shivers.

“I have a better idea,” Harlan said. “I’ll go with y’all to the Long K. One of the ranch staff worked there before he worked at Twin Harts, so I was planning to talk to Lindsay about him anyway. We can work while Zachary is riding. Then we can all head back here when he’s done.”

She gave him a grateful look, certain that he’d been planning to talk to Lindsay by phone rather than drive out to the Long K Ranch. He must have read the hesitation in her expression earlier at the thought of leaving Zachary behind at the ranch. Maybe all men weren’t bad at nonverbal cues after all. “Okay,” she agreed.

She saw Matt Soarez give Harlan a thoughtful look. Matt’s dark-eyed gaze drifted her way, and one eyebrow notched upward.

Stacy looked quickly away, not wanting to encourage Matt’s speculation. Freedom was a tiny place, and it didn’t take long for the grapevine to start rumbling around town. She should have realized that sitting down for lunch with Harlan McClain might start minds turning and tongues wagging.

And newly-in-loves were the worst. They thought everyone should be as happy as they were, come hell or high water.

Only being in love wasn’t Stacy’s idea of happy. Not anymore. She’d loved Anthony once, beyond all reason or sanity, and look how well that had turned out. Apparently Harlan’s own marriage hadn’t exactly been all hearts and flowers, either.

There weren’t two people in Freedom, Texas, who belonged in a romantic relationship less than she and Harlan.

THE LONG K RANCH was smaller and a little shabbier than Twin Harts, which had benefited from the oil boom decades earlier. A month ago, during Wade Coltrane’s investigation into threats against the governor, stories of a longtime rivalry between the Kemps of Long K and the governor’s family had come out. Something about oil being found on land Lila Lockhart’s father had bought from the Kemp family years back when the Kemps had suffered some financial setbacks.

If he had his choice, Harlan would rather be working at the Long K than at Twin Harts, he decided as he left the homey ranch house behind and walked down to the training ring, where Lindsay was giving Zachary his riding lesson. The governor’s ranch was beautiful, but the Long K felt more comfortable. Like a real home.

He slowed his approach, his gaze following the dark-haired little boy as he circled the ring on a small but powerful-looking chestnut quarter horse. A ripple of unease tweaked his gut as he watched the tiny boy work the horse with a surprising show of both nerve and skill.

His gaze shifted until he spotted Stacy’s dark hair dancing in the breeze. She stood at the corral fence, arms folded across the top rail. At first glance, she seemed at ease, but as Harlan stepped closer, he saw the worry lines creasing her forehead and the tense set of her shoulders and back.

He felt a powerful urge to erase those worry lines and relax her muscles. Maybe put a smile back on her pretty but troubled face.

He just didn’t know if he had what it took anymore.

“He’s good,” Harlan said aloud.

She gave a little start, turning to squint at him. He stepped forward until he blocked the sun, and her face relaxed a little. “You have a habit of sneaking up on me.”

He smiled and settled in next to her at the fence. “Sorry. Military training. Sneaking is second nature.”

“What service?”

“U.S. Marine Corps, at your service.”

“Oo-rah,” she murmured softly. At his questioning look, she added, “My uncle was a Marine.”

“Marine uncle, search and rescue father-what was your mother, a lion tamer?”

“English professor.” She smiled, and he was struck again how much the expression transformed her face. The worry lines seemed to melt away, and her ordinarily pretty face became absolutely stunning.

He had to look away in order to continue. “I would ask who you’re more like-your mother or your father-but I saw you in action in Austin.”

“Actually, I have a master’s degree in English,” she said with a smile in her voice. “And a bachelor’s degree in English and Poli-Sci. I was a few credits short of a PhD in English-thought I wanted to teach.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I got married. My ex wanted me to pursue my interest in political science-he thought I’d be happier.” She sighed, her expression bittersweet. “He was right, as much as I hate to admit it. I did some PR for a Tennessee congressman while I was working on my doctorate. Then Anthony decided Texas was the place to be if we wanted to make a big splash in politics.”

“We?” he asked, looking back at the training ring as Zachary took the quarter horse into a canter.

“He’s a lobbyist for the oil industry. Not really that political, actually-he follows the money. I was the one who was bitten by the policy bug.”

He looked at her again, sensing from her tone of voice that her dangerous smile had disappeared. He was right. She was following her son’s circuit of the ring with a troubled gaze.

“Enough personal stuff,” she said. “Did you get what you needed at the ranch house, or should I call Lindsay over to talk to you?”

“I called ahead. Lindsay set me up with the foreman, and he gave me everything he had.”

“Anything of note?”

“Maybe.”

“What are you looking for in the background checks?”

“This and that,” he answered vaguely, not sure he should be telling anyone, not even Stacy, about what Vince Russo had discovered about the explosive device. Information security might turn out to be vital to the investigation.

“I know it’s important, but having people nose around in your background is creepy,” Stacy murmured.

“You’ve been through it before.”

“That’s how I know it’s creepy.”

It wasn’t his favorite part of the job, either. He usually preferred a more hands-on approach to security. Put a rifle in his hand, point him toward a nest of human vipers on the battlefield, and he knew what to do. Being in charge of all aspects of this security plan was a lot more daunting.

He flexed his scarred hand, the twinge of pain a reminder that his rifle-wielding days were behind him. He’d recently started taking target practice again, with mixed results. He supposed he should be happy he still had a hand left to pull a trigger. It could have gone the other way.

“How did you injure your hand?” Stacy asked.

“IED in Iraq,” he answered shortly.

Her voice dropped an octave. “You’re lucky to be alive. It’s amazing you still have use of your hand.”

“I know.” At least, he knew that now. For months of painful surgeries, recovery and rehab at Walter Reed, he hadn’t been so sure. Especially when his doctors told him he’d never be able to shoot his sniper rifle again.

He’d proved them wrong. Sort of. He could finally shoot again. He just couldn’t always hit the target anymore.

“Is that why you retired from the service?”

“Something like that.”

She looked up at him, her face once again transformed by a smile. Her skin seemed to glow where the sun touched it, as if she were made of pale gold. He felt tempted to touch the curve of her cheek to find out if she were soft and warm-or hard and cold. He clenched his arm to his side and looked away.

“What are we going to do about security checkpoints at the party?” Stacy asked. “I don’t think the governor is going to want her guests to feel as if they’ve just entered the Green Zone in Baghdad.”

“They’re going to have to put up with at least some inconvenience,” Harlan said firmly, glad to have business talk to distract him from how much he still wanted to touch her.

They continued discussing the plans for the fundraiser on the drive back to Twin Harts Ranch, their spirited back-and-forth punctuated now and then by Zachary’s horse-related non sequiturs. They didn’t make a lot of sense in the context of what he and Stacy were talking about, but Harlan found himself more amused than frustrated by Zachary’s rambling commentary.

The kid was incredibly bright and articulate for a five-year-old, with a vocabulary and a logical thought process that might elude a much older child. And knowing his problem made it easier for Harlan to accept and enjoy Zachary for who he was. He was quirky and interesting. He was always going to be a different kind of person, but different wasn’t always bad.

Sometimes, he thought, his gaze wandering back to Stacy’s profile, different was very, very good.

THEY ARRIVED BACK AT THE RANCH around 5:00 p.m. “I need to get that ranch map you were asking about in the car,” Stacy said as she let them inside the house. She headed for her bedroom office, leaving Zachary with Harlan in the living room.

It only occurred to her as she was coming back up the hallway that she hadn’t thought twice about leaving Zachary in Harlan’s care. That wasn’t like her at all.

She found him in the kitchen, opening a can of vegetable soup for Zachary, who sat at the kitchen bar watching him, perched on one of the tall stools.

Harlan glanced at Stacy over his shoulder. “He said it was vegetable soup night and he was hungry.”

She smiled. “He insists on vegetable soup after his Thursday riding lesson. Not sure why.”

“Hey, why question something good like veggie soup, right?” He smiled at Zachary. Zachary was stone-faced in response. To his credit, Harlan seemed unfazed by Zachary’s lack of reaction.

“Is there a special way he likes his soup prepared?” he asked Stacy just as the phone started ringing.

She started toward the phone. “Use one of the bigger bowls to mix it with a half a can of water. Heat it for thirty seconds in the microwave, just to take the chill off. Put half in the red bowl-be sure it’s the red bowl. I’ll eat the rest later.” Stacy picked up the phone receiver. “Hello?”

The line was open, but no one responded.

“Hello?” she repeated.

She thought she heard breathing on the other end, for just a second. Then there was a soft click and the line went dead.

Weird, she thought as she hung up the phone.

“Wrong number?” Harlan asked.

She turned and found him pouring soup into the red bowl sitting in front of Zachary. “I guess-nobody said anything.”

A little furrow formed between Harlan’s dark eyebrows. “Did you hear anything at all on the other end of the line?”

“I thought I heard breathing. It was probably some kid making a crank call.” She shrugged it off.

“Maybe,” Harlan murmured. He picked up the phone and punched a couple of buttons-checking incoming caller ID, Stacy realized.

“Anything?” she asked.

He shook his head, putting down the phone and heading back to the kitchen. “Number’s blocked.”

“Do you think it was something besides a prank?” Stacy settled down next to Zachary at the breakfast bar.

Harlan set the larger bowl in front of her and slid a spoon across the counter. “I don’t think we can assume anything, one way or the other. Whoever’s after the governor probably knows you’re her closest aide. That could make you a target. I want to put an extra guard on your place, if that’s okay with you.”

Stacy had spent six years married to a man who had liked to micromanage her every move. To be caged that way again was unappealing. But the last thing Stacy wanted was for her son to be in danger.

“Okay,” she said, looking down at her soup, all appetite gone. “But can you even get a guard here tonight on such short notice?”

Harlan was quiet for a moment. Stacy could almost see his thoughts churning behind his dark, conflicted gaze. Then his expression cleared and his jaw squared.

“Tonight,” he said in a firm voice, “you’ll have me.”