she couldn’t bring herself to finish.
Then another round of panic seemed to set in.
“No. Never mind. We have to go somewhere else,” she insisted, her gaze darting from left to right.
“He’s gone. They won’t be back, especially not while I’m here,” Dallas stated.
“You can’t know that for certain,” she said quickly.
“Kate, I can assure you—”
“No. You can’t. We can talk, but we have to do it somewhere else.” She glanced about, her terror and desperation mounting.
Dallas’s cell phone buzzed. He fished it from his coat pocket and checked the screen. “This call is from the sheriff. I need to answer.”
She nodded.
“Give me some good news,” Dallas said into the phone.
“Wish I could. Seems your white Mazda minivan is just as slippery as your suspect. There’s no sign of either anywhere. We have no plans to give up searching. You’ll be the first to know when we locate him,” Tommy said with a frustrated sigh.
Dallas thanked his friend for the update and then ended the call, cursing under his breath.
An expectant victim stared at him, needing reassurance.
He shook his head.
“I have to get out of here before they come back,” she said, making a move toward the driver’s side of her sedan.
“Hold on,” Dallas cautioned. “What makes you so sure he’ll try again?”
“I feel too exposed here. Can we go somewhere besides my soup kitchen? I need to get away from this place,” Kate blurted out. It was then she realized that she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled, trying to calm her rapid pulse.
“A deputy is on his way,” the handsome cowboy said, and his name finally sank in. Dallas O’Brien. She knew that name from somewhere. But where?
Her mind raced. She was still shocked that anyone would try to rip her baby from her arms in the middle of town. She’d waited so long for him, had been through hell and back. What kind of horrible person would try to take him away?
Tears threatened, but Kate forced herself to hold them at bay.
“My son will need to eat soon and I’d rather not feed him in the parking lot, whether a deputy is coming or not,” she said, glancing from Dallas to Jackson.
The cowboy looked around and then checked his watch. “Fine. We’re going to the sheriff’s office to give statements, then,” he said.
Jackson would be safe there, so she nodded.
“I don’t have a child safety seat in my truck, so we’ll have to take your car,” he added, his voice sturdy as steel.
As calming as his presence was, her body still shook from fear of that man coming back and the horror of him trying to pry Jackson out of her arms.
“You gave him your keys,” she reminded Dallas, wasting no time slipping into the driver’s seat, while he took the passenger side of her sedan.
“Those? That’ll get him into my old post office box,” he said with a wry grin. It was the first time she really noticed Dallas’s good looks. He had a strong, square jaw and intelligent dark eyes.
“I’d like to go home,” Kate said as she turned the ignition. “Can the deputy meet us there?”
“Too risky,” Dallas said.
It took a second for her to realize that he meant the men might know where she lived.
Could they?
Being single and living alone, she’d taken great pains to ensure her personal information remained private. Then again, with the internet these days, it seemed there was no real privacy left, and most people in the small town knew each other anyway. All a determined bad guy would have to do was ask around and he’d be able to figure out where she lived.
“All of Jackson’s supplies are there, except what’s inside the diaper bag in the backseat,” she said as she pulled onto Main from the alley.
Dallas surveyed the area and she realized that with her driving, he would be able to keep watch for the minivan in case it returned. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how she knew him.
“We can pick up new diapers if need be. I don’t want to go to your place until we know it’s safe. For now, take a right at the next stoplight,” Dallas said. He sent a text and she assumed he was telling the sheriff about their change in plans.
Normally, being told what to do was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Kate. In this case, she decided it was better to do as Dallas said. At least he was strong and capable. She already knew he could handle himself in a fight, and he had just saved her and Jackson, so she knew she could trust him.
“Three blocks ahead, take another right, then a left at the stop sign,” he instructed.
She did. The horror of what had just happened was finally sinking in and it dawned on her how lucky she’d been that someone was there to help.
“I owe you an apology for being rude to you. Thank you for stepping in to save my son,” she said. “You didn’t have to get involved.”
“You’re welcome,” Dallas replied. “I’m just glad I was there to help. I don’t normally go to the supply store on Wednesdays.”
“Your change of plans probably just saved Jackson’s life.” She shivered at the thought of what might’ve happened if this cowboy hadn’t been there to intervene. “I know it saved mine.”
Reality was setting in, which also made her realize there was no one to open the kitchen this morning. She needed to call her assistant director or dozens of people would go hungry.
“I have to make sure the kitchen opens on time. Is it okay if I make a quick call before we go inside?” She parked in the lot of the sheriff’s office and gripped the steering wheel. “A lot of people are counting on me for a meal.”
Dallas nodded, while staring at the screen of his cell. “Make an excuse as to why you can’t do it yourself, and put the call on speaker. I don’t want you to give away what happened yet. Got it?”
She shot him a sideways glance. “Why?”
“That was a planned attack. Those men knew exactly when and where you’d be alone. The sheriff will want to know if someone close to you gave them that information, and we have to assume it could’ve been anyone, even people you trust.”
An icy chill ran down her spine. “You think one of my employees might’ve supplied that?” she asked, not bothering to mask her shock. Who would want to hurt Jackson or her? He was just a baby. Her mind could scarcely wrap around the fact that someone had tried to take him in the first place. Panic flooded her at the memory. “Who would plan something like this?”
“The sheriff will help find the answer to that question,” Dallas said, his voice a study in composure, whereas she was falling apart.
“None of this seems real,” she said, bile rising, burning her throat. “I think I might be sick.”
“Take a few deep breaths.” His voice was like calm, soothing water pouring over her.
She did as he suggested.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” She apologized again.
“Don’t be sorry for wanting to protect your child,” Dallas said. And there was an underlying note in his tone she couldn’t easily identify. Was he a father?
“You