Ranger's Baby Rescue. Lara Lacombe
of her mother’s intuition that gave her a sense of certainty despite everyone else’s overwhelming doubt. And even though she was looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, Emma wasn’t leaving until she had her daughter in her arms once again.
Fortunately, the hospital had been understanding about her need for a leave of absence. There was a pool of nurses happy to step in and take her ER shifts while she focused on finding Christina.
“Take as long as you need,” her supervisor had said.
With that worry taken care of, Emma had been free to focus solely on the search for her baby.
She wouldn’t have picked this ranger had there been another option. But he’d been the only one in the lobby when she’d walked in, so she hadn’t had much of a choice. He seemed competent enough—tall, with broad shoulders and lean, muscled arms. She had no doubts he could handle the physical aspects of the search with ease. But there was a hardness about him that gave her pause. It was as if he wore an invisible suit of armor. She’d seen a glimmer of wariness in his blue eyes, even before she’d told him about Christina. Maybe she was mistaken, but he seemed to regard the world with a hint of suspicion. It was this air of reserve that worried her now. Would he be sensitive to the dangers facing her little girl, or would he decide she was too much trouble and send her back home?
“He can try,” she muttered. But if he thought she’d simply turn around and walk away, he was sorely mistaken.
Resolve stiffened her spine. If he refused to help, she’d ask another ranger. And another and another, if need be. She’d go through the whole damn roster of them until she found one who would search with her. And if that didn’t work, she’d call a reporter. Not that she knew anyone in the media, but it couldn’t be that hard to find somebody who worked at a news station or wrote for a paper. She’d raise holy hell until she got the help she needed. Beg, borrow or steal—Emma didn’t care what she had to do at this point. She had no pride left. All that mattered was bringing Christina home safely.
Indignation bubbled in her chest, the leash on her temper growing shorter with every passing minute. What was taking so long? It shouldn’t be that difficult for him to call Detective Randall. He wouldn’t be happy to learn she was here—he’d encouraged her to stay in El Paso while they searched for Christina, but Emma couldn’t sit in her empty apartment twiddling her thumbs while her baby was missing. Despite what the detective thought, Joseph would feel comfortable in Big Bend, and more importantly, he probably figured no one would think to look for him so far from home.
“But I know,” she whispered to herself. “And I will find you.”
The clop of boot heels on tile sounded in the otherwise quiet lobby. She turned to find the ranger emerging from the back offices, his expression inscrutable. As he approached, she saw that a hint of worry had replaced the skeptical glint in his blue eyes.
Good, she noted with satisfaction. He believes me now.
“Ms. Foster,” he said, his deep voice reminding her of tires on gravel. “I spoke with Detective Randall. I’m so sorry for your situation.”
She nodded, appreciating the comment. Under normal circumstances she would have let her manners dictate her response, but she had little patience for the expected niceties at the moment. “Will you help me?”
He hesitated, sending her heart plummeting to her toes. Her fear must have shown on her face, for he reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “It’s okay,” he said kindly. “I’m going to do my best, but I can’t promise anything.”
A wave of relief washed over her, making her feel a little light-headed. “I know,” she said. “But I need to try.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Why don’t we start from the beginning? Detective Randall told me some of the details, but I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
“That’s fine,” Emma said. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know his name. “Uh, we haven’t actually been introduced yet. You know my name. What’s yours?”
Twin pink spots appeared high on his cheeks, making him look suddenly boyish. “Matt,” he said. “Matt Thompson. I’m sorry I failed to introduce myself before.”
She shrugged off the apology. “Is there someplace we can talk?” The lobby of the ranger station was nice enough, but she’d prefer to sit for this conversation.
Matt ushered her past the desk into the back room, which housed several desks and chairs. The far wall sported a large map of the park and a whiteboard full of text, but Emma didn’t bother to read any of it. He led her to a counter that ran under the board and gestured to the coffee maker. “Need a cup?”
“Yes, please.” Emma normally didn’t drink coffee, but she’d learned over the last few days that it helped to have something to hold on to while she told her story over and over again.
Matt poured two cups, adding cream and sugar at her nod. Then he guided her to a desk and chair and sat, gesturing for her to do the same. He pushed the mug across the desk and looked at her expectantly.
Emma wrapped her hands around the cup, appreciating the warmth leaching through the porcelain. A familiar heavy weight settled over her as she gathered her thoughts. Talking about the night she had discovered Christina was missing never got any easier. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d repeated the story to the police and the FBI. Unfortunately, the repetition didn’t dull her emotions or help her process what had happened. Her heart still pounded the way it had when she’d realized the crib was empty; her stomach still cramped as she relived the horror, as fresh as the first time.
Matt nudged a box of tissues toward her, as if sensing she might need them. She sent him a grateful smile and took a deep breath. “Three nights ago, I woke up at one thirty in the morning because I felt like something was wrong.” She told him about searching the apartment but finding no signs of anything amiss, and how she’d nearly gone back to bed. “But I had to check on Christina. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until I made sure she was okay.”
He nodded, his blue eyes full of understanding. Emma appreciated the fact that he was simply listening and not bombarding her the way the police and FBI had done. She’d barely been able to get a sentence out before an officer had fired another question at her, which had made it difficult to get through the telling. But Matt remained quiet, apparently content to hear what she had to say before talking himself.
His silence was oddly encouraging, and she felt her shoulders relax. “That’s when I discovered my baby was gone.” Her throat tightened on the last word, and she felt the familiar prickle of tears. She blinked hard, dismissing them before they had a chance to fall.
“I called the police immediately,” she continued. “They thought that since there were no signs of forced entry into the apartment, whoever took her must have a key. My brother, Joseph, is the only one with a spare, but I didn’t think he would ever take Christina.” Disappointment and anger swirled in her chest as she recalled her naive assertion that her brother would never kidnap her child. How wrong she’d been!
“Then I called Joseph, and he actually answered. At first, I was relieved. I figured if he had taken Christina, he wouldn’t have answered the phone.”
Matt lifted one eyebrow. “He didn’t try to hide the fact that he’d kidnapped your daughter?”
Emma shook her head. “I think he was preparing to call me himself, to let me know she was safe.”
“Why did he take her?”
“Money,” she said simply. “Joseph has a gambling problem. It’s something that developed over the last several years. I’d helped him once before with a small debt, but told him never again. He agreed, and for a while I thought he had stopped gambling. But he’d just been hiding it. Now he owes some bad people a lot of money, and he’d come to me about a week ago asking for help. I told him I didn’t have anything, but he didn’t believe me.”
Matt