Son of a Gun

Emma lay Belle in the cradle atop the clean, specially made sheet. Belle barely stirred. She looked like an angel in the pink footed onesie that Sylvia had sent over.

Carolina touched the tiny hand and memories flooded her mind. The night she’d placed Damien in this same crib for the very first time—the night she and Hugh had married. She’d had tears that night. Her heart had been so full.

Hugh had laughed at her, but he’d quickly become as attached to their miracle son as she was.

Hugh. The only man she’d ever loved. She missed him so, but she treasured every second they’d had together. He’d been a hardheaded man, never comfortable showing his emotions—except with her. She’d been his one weak spot. He’d been her strength.

“I should go and let you get some sleep,” Carolina said.

“I am tired,” Emma admitted. “And that bed looks so tempting I can’t wait to crawl between the sheets. I know I’ve said it a half-dozen times tonight, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”

Carolina’s hand closed around the doorknob, but she hesitated. “You know, Emma, I have this feeling that God sent you to us tonight—as much for us as for you. Sleep tight.”

* * *

EMMA DROPPED TO THE BED as the door closed behind Carolina. She’d never met a family like the Lamberts. That would make it doubly hard to leave in the morning. But with luck she’d be out of here before Damien decided to go look for her ditched car. The plan was already worked out in her mind.

There was just one last detail to take care of. She picked up the phone and made a call that would put her plan in motion.

Once she’d showered, she snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. She expected to see Caudillo’s image waiting for her in the dark with angry threats of what he’d do to her for escaping his paradise prison.

But it was Damien’s face that appeared as she drifted into a sound, safe sleep.

Chapter Four

Caudillo paced the tiled floor of his office. “I leave for a few days, and you let marauders take everything, even my beloved Emma.”

“What could we do? They came onto the island with hundreds of armed men.”

“You could have fought to the death instead of hiding.”

“We fought, but there were so many of them.”

“You are the leader of a hundred men, Chale, armed with the best weapons money can buy. You should have been able to shoot them like ducks in a row as they stepped off their ship. You let down your guard while I was away. Admit it, Chale.”

“I can only speak for myself. I was not on guard duty that night.”

“But you are responsible for your men, and you were responsible for keeping my island safe.”

Chale straightened the bandoleer that crossed over his shoulder, as if his supply of cartridges mattered now.

“I assumed my orders were being obeyed.”

“You assumed? I could train a monkey to assume and do nothing. And now not only are crates of weapons missing, but Emma is gone, as well.”

“I will see that she is found, unless she is in the stomach of a shark.”

“No, Chale. You will not. You have lost my trust. You are relieved of duty.”

Sweat pooled on Chale’s forehead and circled the armpits of his white shirt. Another time, Caudillo would have enjoyed his sniveling fear. Today, there was too much at stake to enjoy anything.

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