Ranger's Baby Rescue. Lara Lacombe

not really wanting to get into the details of Chris’s death and the subsequent lawsuit. “I was involved in a lawsuit about two years ago that resulted in a settlement. Joseph thinks I have a lot of money. He doesn’t understand I haven’t seen a dime. He accused me of holding out on him, of deliberately abandoning him.”

      “So he took your baby to try to force your hand,” Matt said. The words dripped with disgust, as if he couldn’t believe anyone would stoop so low.

      Emma nodded. “Exactly. But I still don’t have the money. And I don’t know what he’s going to do once he realizes that.” Fear bubbled up in her chest as she wondered again how her brother would respond when he discovered there was no ransom coming his way. Joseph wasn’t normally a violent person, but Emma felt like she no longer knew her own brother. Three days ago, she would have sworn he’d never kidnap a baby. Now she had no idea what he was capable of doing. He was plainly desperate, and she could only hope that desperation didn’t override his basic humanity where her daughter was concerned.

      “Did he give you a deadline?” Matt’s voice was calm, as if he dealt with this sort of thing every day. For a second, Emma allowed herself to believe he could fix things. That he could find her baby before anything bad happened. And perhaps he could. Weren’t park rangers good at tracking?

      “Three days,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. She glanced down, swirling the mug a bit to stir the coffee within. “He wants half a million dollars three days from now to pay off his debts.”

      “And you don’t have it.”

      “No.” She jerked her head up, glaring at Matt. “My God, do you think I’d be here if I did? Do you think I care about money? I’d give him ten times that amount if it meant getting Christina back safely! I’d do anything to hold her again.” Her arms ached with the memory of her baby, warm and soft against her body. Would she ever feel that sweet weight again?

      Matt held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I’m sorry.”

      Her temper cooled quickly, leaving despair in its wake. “I don’t have the money. The only way I can get that kind of money is by robbing a bank. And even then, I doubt they keep half a million in cash on hand these days.”

      “Probably not,” Matt said. His voice was soothing now, as if he were trying to calm a wounded animal.

      “This is my only option,” she said. Her shoulders dropped, her energy starting to flag as the hopelessness of the situation took hold once again. The past few days she’d vacillated between a burning sense of urgency and a feeling of total defeat. It was growing more and more difficult to beat back the darkness trying to claim her spirit, but she had to keep trying. The police and FBI were doing all they could to find Christina, but at the end of the day, this was just another job to them. Christina was her life. She’d never stop looking for her daughter, never rest until she found her.

      “If this doesn’t work...” She trailed off, unwilling to give voice to her fears. What if she was wrong, and Joseph hadn’t taken her baby to the park? Was she wasting her time and efforts, time that would be better spent looking elsewhere?

      But what other choice did she have? Emma couldn’t rest while her baby was gone. She had to trust that Detective Randall and his team were doing their best in El Paso. They thought it unlikely Joseph had fled to Big Bend, which meant they weren’t going to spend time looking here. Even though they figured it was a long shot, Emma refused to leave any stone unturned in the hunt for Christina. If that meant spending the rest of her life wandering the desert, then so be it.

      “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Matt said. He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. His palm was warm against her skin. Even though he was a stranger, Emma drew comfort from his touch. She hadn’t been with anyone since Chris’s death, and a frisson shot up her arm as she realized how much she’d missed the touch of a man. Her body cried out for more contact, but not in a sexual way. She simply wanted to be held by someone bigger and stronger, someone who could fold her into his arms and make her feel safe. She wanted to lay her head against Matt’s chest and surrender her worries and fears. For one brief, aching moment, she wanted a man to take care of her, to fix her problems and give her the gift of rest.

      It was a lovely fantasy, but that’s all it would ever be. In reality, there was no knight in shining armor waiting in the wings, ready to swoop in and rescue her from the nightmare her life had become. And while Emma prided herself on her accomplishments as a single mother, she wasn’t too proud to admit that she missed having a partner, someone to share things with and lean on for support when the going got tough. She’d had that once with Chris. Would she ever find it again?

      Doesn’t matter, she told herself. Her loneliness wasn’t important, not right now. She couldn’t allow self-pity to distract her from her search. She’d never forgive herself if she missed a clue because of pointless navel-gazing.

      “I’m trying to stay positive,” she said, forcing herself to return to the conversation. “But it’s hard. Every minute that passes without her feels like an eternity.”

      “I can imagine.” Matt’s eyes were full of sympathy and a hint of understanding, as if he had some idea of what she was going through.

      “Do you have children?” He’s probably a great dad, she figured. She imagined him playing catch with a towheaded boy, a smaller version of himself. She felt a pang in her heart as she pictured him hugging his son, burying his nose in the little boy’s hair. Does he take it for granted, the way I used to?

      To her surprise, the light left his eyes and a wall shot up between them. “No,” he said shortly. “I’m not a father.” His tone was curt; it was clear she had inadvertently touched a nerve.

      “Oh,” she said dumbly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

      He ignored her apology, changing the subject. “You said you and your brother camped here a lot as kids. I’m going to grab a map of the park so you can mark where you think he’d go.” He pushed back from the desk and stepped away, leaving Emma alone with her cold cup of coffee.

      She gripped the mug, staring into the dark liquid. For the first time in days, she felt like she could catch her breath. And as she watched Matt walk back toward the desk, moving with an easy confidence she envied, a strange sensation took root in her chest. It took her a few seconds, but she finally identified the feeling.

      Hope.

      * * *

      This was shaping up to be a lot harder than he’d thought.

      Joseph frowned as he watched his niece play with a small cloth ball, rolling it across the surface of the sleeping bag. She was all smiles now, but he’d learned quickly that her mood could change on a dime. Not even ten minutes ago she wailed loudly after he’d removed a rock from her mouth. Her quicksilver temper was enough to give him whiplash. How did Emma handle this? He was only three days in and ready to throw in the towel.

      “Not much longer,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby’s play. He’d given Emma a deadline for the money—he’d been quite generous with the amount of time he’d granted her to get the funds.

      It didn’t have to be this way. Bitterness rose in his chest as he pictured his sister. He’d come to her in good faith, asking for help to pay his gambling debts. She hadn’t been his first choice. He’d much rather take care of his own problems—he had his pride, after all. But the debt was out of control, and there was no way he could scrape together that kind of cash in time to keep the enforcers at bay.

      Karnov was not a patient man. Whispers swirled that he was in with the Russian mafia. Joseph had dismissed them as mere rumors, but now he realized what a mistake that had been.

      Even now, he broke into a cold sweat at the memory of Karnov’s warning. Joseph had literally been plucked off the street and thrown into the back of a van, a cloth bag jerked down over his head. When they’d stopped, he’d been manhandled into a warehouse. Someone had pulled the bag away