Read Online The Target by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page B

I’m glad that Emma isn’t mute. But you know, we’ve gotten along just fine. She draws really well.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you say anything, Em?”
    She shook her head, then frowned. She whispered, “Nothing would come out. Nothing until I thought you’d shoot Ramsey. I couldn’t let you shoot Ramsey. I didn’t know what to do so I just talked. Ramsey wanted me to write my name but I couldn’t do that either. He didn’t think I could write. I couldn’t do anything, Mama, except draw pictures.”
    â€œYou did well,” her mother said and kissed her not once, but half a dozen times. “Oh, Emma, I love you so much.” She settled the child again in her lap.
    â€œI’m glad to see you, Mama. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again until Ramsey found me. It was scary, Mama. I was so afraid.” Emma threw her arms around her mother’s neck. She was crying now, deep low sobs that rent the silence.
    â€œIt’s all right, baby. We’re together again. It’s all right. I’ll never let you go again, I swear it. Oh Emma, I love you. Oh God, I nearly lost hope.”
    He turned away, giving them what privacy he could, but he listened to them both crying, Emma’s sobs, strangely, deeper than her mother’s. He waited until they’d begun to quiet, listened to the sniffs, then tossed her a blanket. She pulled it over both of them. She said blankly, “Emma’s wearing a man’s undershirt.”
    â€œYes, I forgot to buy her some pajamas. At least she doesn’t trip over the undershirt.”
    Ramsey rose, his leg screaming. “Let me lock the door. We can’t take any chances.”
    She didn’t say anything, content to wait, he supposed, since she had her daughter back. He knew she watched him closely as he stared through the window, then fastened the chain and flipped the dead bolt. When he turned, he watched her pull off a close-fitting black knit cap. Red curly hair spouted out, most of it in a braid, the rest a riot around her thin face, a pretty face, one that was changing even as he watched. The tension was leaving her face, bringing color to her cheeks. Her mouth was curving into a smile, her eyes were growing lighter even as he stared at her.
    There was so much to say, so much to ask, but what came out of his mouth was, “Would you like some coffee? It will just take a minute to make. We’re really basic here.”
    She nodded. “That would be wonderful. I’m so cold I think it’s permanent now.”
    He walked to the kitchen. He felt Emma’s hand on his knee. She’d followed him out, his gray T-shirt nearly dragging on the floor and a pair of white gym socks pooling around her skinny ankles. He watched her walk to the small table and measure the coffee into the waiting pan. Then he poured the water over the coffee and set it on the stove. They’d gotten this routine down as of four days ago.
    He looked over to the woman standing in the doorway, staring at them, more dazed than not. He didn’t even know her name, but at this moment, it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was creating an air of normality. He said to her, “Emma and I are a good act. We got the coffee thing down first thing. We’re just about ready to take it on the road. Hey, Emma, who gets top billing?”
    â€œI don’t know what that means, Ramsey.”
    â€œDoes your name go first on the signs or does mine?”
    â€œI’m the youngest. I should go first.”
    He laughed and ruffled her hair. He looked over at her mother. She was just standing there. He could tell she was trying to make sense of things, not just coming tounderstand the relationship between her daughter and this man she didn’t know, but she was also trying to come to grips with the fact that Emma was safe, that she actually had her daughter back.
    She didn’t say anything, just stood