A Father For Her Baby. B.J. Daniels

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      “He’s lying. Don’t you see—he made up that story after he saw me. I stumbled into some lumber. He looked up. He knows I saw what he did.”

      “Kit, I’m telling you, he didn’t see you. And he certainly didn’t—”

      “Is everything all right, Kit?” asked a male voice from the house.

      Kit turned to find her boss, Tim Anderson, in the doorway. “Fine, Tim,” she said, unable to hide her relief that he’d come home early. “But would you mind taking the babies inside? I’ll join you in just a minute.”

      “You didn’t tell him, did you?” Sanders said after Tim had closed the door.

      She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone. Just you.” She glanced toward the grove of trees, unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched.

      “I understand now why you ran, Kit.” He sounded sympathetic, but also sad. “I just can’t believe you’d think Derrick could kill someone. Let alone that he’d somehow gotten away with it.”

      “Everyone knows how powerful the Killhorns are in Big Sky—in the whole county.”

      “Do you really think my family has that much power?”

      “Yes,” she admitted, knowing that had been part of the reason she hadn’t gone to the authorities once she reached Texas. “Your father’s a judge, your uncle’s the sheriff.”

      “You can’t think they’re in on it?”

      It did sound ludicrous. It made her doubt herself. Hadn’t Derrick always said she was foolish, young, incredibly naive? She replayed the memory of the last time she’d seen her husband. She studied each detail, looking for something, anything that proved Derrick’s story, anything that proved her own vision somehow faulty. Sanders had explained it so well. Just a foolish misunderstanding by a pregnant woman. And yet…

      “Who was the man, the one Derrick fought with? Jason what?”

      “St. John,” Sanders said. “Jason St. John.”

      “Has anyone seen him since?”

      “Derrick has. He caught Jason sabotaging the job less than a week ago, but Jason got away.”

      Why didn’t she believe that? Because she’d seen Derrick kill Jason seven months ago.

      He must have seen the doubt in her expression. “Kit, I wouldn’t be here trying to get you to come back if I thought Derrick was a killer. I think you know me better than that.”

      She felt in her heart that was true. She even started to concede, started to bend to his will the way she’d bent her whole life. But then she looked toward the house, thinking of her young son, and felt that jolt of motherness, that iron-strong will of protectiveness. “I believe you, Sanders. But I need you to find Jason St. John.”

      She knew he’d never locate him. Not alive, anyway.

      “Find Jason St. John?” he repeated. “That’s no small order. There’s an APB out on him for sabotaging the job site, so I would imagine he’s hiding.”

      Kit held her ground. “I need you to prove to me that Derrick isn’t a murderer. Or help me to prove that he is.”

      Sanders looked at the toes of his shoes for a moment. “Kit, there’s something I have to tell you. I called Derrick right after I saw you on television, then again this morning when I knew you and the baby were safe.”

      “You told him where I was?” she cried. Just the thought of her husband terrified her.

      “Why wouldn’t I tell him? I had no idea you thought he’d killed someone.”

      “Where is he, Sanders?”

      “I’m meeting him up at the airport in less than two hours.”

      A shot of pure terror drove Kit back a step. “I’ve got to get out of here.” Frantically, she turned and started for the house, but he stopped her.

      “Where will you go?”

      She shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears.

      “You can’t have saved much money,” Sanders reasoned. “Do you know anyone in Texas you can stay with?”

      She shook her head again. She had no one, no family. Derrick had cut her off from her friends, but she wouldn’t have involved them in this, anyway, not with a murderer after her and Andy.

      “What 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.”

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