The note rattled in my shaking hand, my knees almost giving out on me. I’d never been threatened like this before and it scared me more than I cared to admit.
I spun on my heel, searching for who could have left it, but other than a handful of stall holders, no one was there. But then the heat of the cartridge told me it had been on my seat for quite some time.
I sat heavily on the foot ledge of the Ute, stared at the ground, and considered what to do.
“What’ve you got there?” Noah’s dirty work boots filled my line of vision.
I had no words. Instead I lifted my head and dropped the note and the cartridge into his outstretched hand.
As the brass casing glistened against his skin, his eyes widened.
“We need to find Doyle,” he replied, his tone clipped. “Come on.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me to my feet. I was grateful for the warmth of his touch.
Minutes later we marched into the police station to find Doyle munching on one of my cupcakes. Seeing us, he brushed the crumbs from his shirt, as pink butter frosting tinted his grin.
“Hey Noah, Tilly. I heard about the commotion at the Fair today. Sorry about your entry. I’m sure you would have won.” He scraped his chair backward as he stood to greet us. Seeing Noah’s tight expression, his smile faded. “Everything okay?”
“Someone’s trying to scare her off, aren’t they?” Noah demanded, dropping the cartridge and note onto his desk. “Doyle, so far you’ve written everything off as a prank. Don’t tell me you think this is another one.” His tone was non-negotiable.
Doyle read the note and released a deep sigh. “This definitely isn’t harmless.” He rubbed his face with his hands, his happy demeanor disappearing. Hearing Doyle’s words of agreement, I instinctively move closer to Noah’s side. He instantly reached for my hand. I held on tight wanting his strength.
To be honest I was hoping it was just a prank. At least I’d be able to sleep tonight. “No one would really shoot me, would they?” I bit my bottom lip to stop the quivering.
He didn’t answer, instead he picked up a notebook and sat back down, indicating to us that we should do the same.
Only once Doyle had taken my statement and placed the cartridge into an evidence bag, did Noah speak up again. “Doyle, someone wants her gone. How can you guarantee her safety?”
“Of course, I’m going to ensure her safety, but do you really believe this is about getting Tilly to leave?”
“What else could it be about?” I asked. “I don’t know anyone well enough to have upset them.”
“First there was the poisoned scones,” Noah said. “We thought it was a mistake that Clifford got sick, but whoever left those had intended Tilly to eat them. And do you know how many times animals are being let out of our paddocks?” He didn’t wait for Doyle to answer. “That can’t be a coincidence. And how did Ruby get into the house? And what about the graffiti? That was a threat. ‘Go home or else!’. Plus, the fact that her house was broken into and her gun was stolen which was then used to destroy property, setting her up to take the fall.”
“If we assume that someone is after Tilly, then who do you think is behind it?” Doyle looked intently at Noah.
“Blake Emerson. And Marshall Berring. Between the two of them, they’ve hatched a plan to push her out.” Noah said without hesitation.
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“It could be Callie,” I interrupted. “Or Janie. They’d like me gone.”
“I don’t think either of them would go to this length.” Noah pointed to the bullet in the evidence bag.
“Look, let me investigate this,” Doyle said in a low voice. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone was seen around Tilly’s Ute. This town is small enough that I’m positive I’ll find who’s responsible before the night’s out.”
“Good.” Noah nodded.
“I just suggest you don’t stay alone tonight, Tilly. Just to be on the safe side,” Doyle added.
Noah seemed to calm down after that, but for some reason my anxiety only spiked.
“You’re not really going to shoot someone with that, are you?” My eyes bulged at the sight of Noah’s rifle leaning up against my kitchen wall.
“No, of course not.”
“Okay. So...why do you have it?”
“Just in case.”
“In case what?”
“In case someone breaks in and tries to hurt you.”
Alright, good to know his intentions.
“But they won’t,” he said quickly when he saw my expression. “I’m here just in case.”
“So...?” My next question hung awkwardly.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he replied, knowingly.
The only couch in the house was out on the verandah and I didn’t like the idea of him sleeping out there.
“There’s Matilda’s bed,” I offered.
Noah wandered down the hall toward the room in question. He pushed the door back and we both stared at the bed, the room cold and uncomfortable.
I wasn’t sure if Noah believed in ghosts, but either way the room wasn’t that welcoming tonight.
“I think the verandah is a better offer,” Noah spoke in barely above a whisper. “But I’ll never hear an intruder from back there.”
“You can sleep with me,” I offered.
His eyebrows shot up near his hairline.
“I mean, you can share my bed,” I added quickly. “We’ll make you a pillow fort.”
“I don’t need a pillow fort. I can control myself.” He laughed.
It wasn’t him I was worried about.
After heading back to the kitchen and making us both a salad for tea, I made the bed ‘Noah safe’.
“What’s this?” he asked, holding up my now completed knitting project.
“Ethel’s new jumper.”
“Is that the Nike logo?” He pointed to the large tick I had sewn over the wool.
“I thought it might help her run faster. She needs all the help she can get beating Cottonball to the food in the mornings. For a chicken with one leg he sure can move fast.”
Noah’s megawatt grin flashed. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?” I found my ugliest pajamas and threw them over my arm.
“Don’t worry. It’s a good thing.”
“I’m going for a shower.”
A cold one, but thankfully I didn’t say that out loud.
It had been a long time since I had spent the entire night with a man in my bed. On the odd occasion Warwick had slept over, he was always called into work at some ungodly hour, leaving me spread eagled on the bed all by myself.
Thankfully Noah didn’t snore, but he took up way more space than I had anticipated, which left me clinging to the edge of the mattress, willing my self-control to be strong.
Clifford was banished to somewhere near my feet.
“Are you okay?” Noah’s voice was husky in the darkness as he rolled onto his side, facing me.
Even with the pillow fort, his face was now only inches from mine, and the scent of his minty breath washed over me as I inhaled deeply.
“Sorry. I’m just a bit fidgety tonight. I think it’s the thought of someone wanting to shoot me.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. I was worried about it. It’s just that I was more worried about giving into desire, climbing the pillow fort, and jumping him.
The sheets rustled as his hand reached across and found mine. Our fingers intertwined, and my desire heightened.
“This is just a precaution,” he said, adjusting his head on his pillow, his voice groggy with sleep. “Doyle will have this sorted by daylight. I’m sure of it.”
I kind of wished Doyle would never get it sorted.
As Noah drifted back to sleep, his breathing once again slowed and became more regular.
His fingers held mine and it filled me with a sense of calm. In my new place in heaven, I clung tightly to Noah’s rough hand and smiled. My head sank deeply into my own pillow, my soul content.
I’d never met anyone quite like him. He was strong, dependable, a gentleman, and kind. He was earth shatteringly good looking, and sexy as hell. But he seemed to have no real sexual interest in me and just cared for me as a friend.
I held my breath as the moonlit night peaked in from behind the curtains, illuminating Noah as he slept.
His features were relaxed, his lips turned up into a small smile, and his hair had fallen over his forehead. I itched to reach out and push it back and my body ached in places it shouldn’t.
His lips parted and he whispered something in his sleep. Adjusting my position so I could hear him better, I kept one hand holding his and propped myself up onto my elbow, looking down at him in the semi darkness.
He whispered again, and a small laugh escaped his full lips. Whatever he was dreaming about sure was entertaining him.
Completely mesmerized, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Unconsciously, my head moved closer to his until my ear hovered just above his mouth. At this distance, his warmth radiated into me, his breath tickled my skin, and I may or may not have had a small orgasm. Okay, I’ll admit it. I did have one.
“Tilly, what are you doing?” he asked, loudly. I squealed and jumped back to my side of the bed. “If you want to lay on me, you only had to say.” He laughed, rolling onto his back, pulling the doona with him as he moved.
“Geez, you scared me,” I hissed, my hand moving to my chest hoping to slow my erratic heartbeat.
But hang on. What did he just say?
I was about to get him to clarify when the startling loud bang of a gunshot broke the night air. Clifford jumped off the bed, his bark insistent and ear piercing as the sound echoed. Polly started to squawk and Cottonball crowed.
Noah was out of bed, his hand on his rifle before my mind could even catch up.
“What the...?”
He was out the door before I even had the chance to flip the lamp on.
Clifford ran behind him as the door slammed shut, leaving me inside suddenly feeling cold and alone.
With no idea what was going on, I sat back on the bed and tried to get my thoughts together. I knew I should stay put, but I didn’t like hiding like a scared rabbit. Which I was, but I just didn’t like to admit it.
So, I crept out of bed, pulled back the curtain just enough to see what was out there. Moonlight flooded the grounds with its soft glow and I could make out the silhouette of a large man jogging under the canopy of the Jacaranda tree.
“Noah!” I whispered loudly through the fly screen. “Is that you?”
The man froze for a second, turned toward me and raised his rifle.
I squealed and sank to the floor, waiting for the gun shot to ring through the still air.
I covered my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes tight, my mind racing over thoughts of how thick the walls were. Was I protected inside? Or would the bullet pierce the timber and lodge itself into my heart?
Only as silence echoed around me did I think the gunman had changed his mind.
The silhouette had looked familiar. Why? Who was it? What was it that I recognized? The way he ran? The way he stood? Or was it the way he held the rifle?
Argh! This was no use. My brain hadn’t had enough sleep to function properly and added to the adrenaline and fear that was now coursing through me, I had no chance of thinking straight. Instead of torturing myself further, I filled my lungs with much needed oxygen, slowed my breathing and plucked up the courage to look out of the window again.
Only this time, the figure had disappeared into the night. But had he gone for good? Was he circling around to come in the back door? Or was he now hunting Noah?
Noah. The idea of him out there alone looking for a crazed gunman scared me as much as the gunman himself. If he got killed protecting me, I couldn’t live with myself. The grief losing him would cause Wally and Randall was unbearable, and thinking about it had me rushing from the room.
I needed to help him anyway that I could.
Without a weapon, I crept down the hallway, my legs shaking with every step. My heart hammered in my ears and stars danced in my vision. Floorboards creaked beneath me alerting anyone to my presence and in the darkness every shadow felt like the enemy.
Oh God! Please don’t let there be anyone there!
As I reached the kitchen, I found the carving knife and stepped outside into the darkness.
The sounds of the night had ceased, leaving an eerie stillness. My eyes darted from one side to the other, searching for any possible threat as I kept close to the house. The cool early morning air chilled my skin causing goose bumps to break out where it touched, and my heart pounded in my ears, obliterating any other sounds that I was straining for. The thought that this was not a good idea kept running through my mind, but I couldn’t stay in the bedroom. Not if Noah could be in danger.
A noise around the chicken coop caused me to jump and drop the knife, and I covered my mouth against my squeal.
The chickens startled, their clucks loud and distressed, and as Clifford appeared from the side of the house, barking loudly, a figure ran toward the fields, the crop swallowing them from view.
Clifford followed, but as my legs gave out and I sank to the grass I called him. Only Clifford had other ideas. His bark was ferocious as he covered the ground effortlessly, racing after the assailant.
I wanted the gunman caught, but I wanted Clifford safe more. I searched the ground for my dropped knife, almost cutting myself as my hand grazed the blade. Gripping the handle tight, I stood and ran after Clifford.
“Tilly!” Noah’s voice was loud behind me. “Get back!” He sped after Clifford and as the crop swallowed them both, helplessness filled my soul.
It felt like eternity as I held my breath and waited for them to return. Clifford was the first to reappear, Noah closely on his heels.
“Tilly! I told you to wait inside,” he hissed.
“I thought you might need help.” My blood pressure dropped into an above normal range, and I fought back tears of relief.
“And how exactly were you planning to help me?”
I waved my knife in the air as Wally and Randall bounded across the lawn, both with rifles in their hands.
Looking at Wally, I gasped. He was a danger without a gun, with one who knew what could happen.
Noah must have had the same thought, because as they approached, he gently took the weapon from him. “Thanks Gramps.”
“What happened?” Randall asked, his lips pursed.
“Someone shot out a tire on Tilly’s car,” Noah explained.
“What?” Even though I hadn’t driven the car in a while, I still loved it. “Oh my God!”
“Did you see who it was?” Randall asked.
“No. I lost them in the crop. Dad, can you take Tilly inside please? I’m going to drive around and see if I can find him.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I warned. “What if he shoots you?”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Randall interrupted before Noah could say anymore. “I’m coming with you, Noah. Dad you take Tilly inside and lock the door until we get there. And call the police.”
“Come on then, Tilly,” Wally took my arm. “Grab Clifford and let’s go.”
It had been a long night. Even though Noah and Randall had declared that whoever had fired the shot was nowhere to be seen, Doyle had decided it was for the best if he stood guard on my house. Only then had Randall taken Wally home and Noah and I had gone back to my bed.
Even with the help of hot cocoa and the calming scent of my lavender candle I still tossed and turned. In the end I gave up and took one of the sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed for me after I lost my shop. It knocked me out so well, I could have been mistaken for dead.
However, it didn’t stop me dreaming, and what a glorious dream it was. Noah was in my bed and my hands were all over him. His abs contracted against my touch, hard and arousing. I lowered my lips to his bare chest, my tongue trailing a path only stopping momentarily to play with the smattering of hair which traced the way toward the unknown. I wound my leg around his and felt his leg hair tickle me. Every nerve ending was on full alert and my brain flashed with desire. I groaned.
My fantasy however, was rudely interrupted by Cottonball’s loud and obnoxious crowing. I fluttered my eyelids, willing my brain to go back to where I’d been, when the sight of male arousal brought me to full consciousness.
Hang on. That was a dream. Wasn’t it?
My lips were met by the warmth of skin and the crowing was drowned by deep groaning.
My eyelids shot fully open, and the vision of Noah’s glorious naked stomach greeted me good morning.
My heart jumped as I realized my fingers were lifting the band of his boxers. Embarrassment swamped me.
“Well, good morning, Tilly.” Noah grinned.
I squealed and sat up straight, releasing my grip on his boxers as a trickle of sweat dripped from my temple. “Oh my God!” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming. I must have...Oh my God!” I covered my face with my hands wanting to block any vision of him and his gorgeous grin.
“That must have been some dream,” Noah said huskily.
“Did I...?”
I pointed to his man business.
“Nearly.”
“Argh!” I lifted the pillow and flung it over my head, flopping backward against the mattress, memories of the dream filling my mind.
The feel of his skin, the hardness of his abs, the distance my hand was from his...did I really do that?
Peeking out from under the pillow, I saw that Noah was raised on his elbow smiling down at me. Well, at least he was smiling.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled through the fabric.
His deep throaty laugh did nothing for my hormones.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I enjoyed every second of it.” Slapping a kiss on my forehead, he threw back the covers and I was thanked with the glorious view of his back as he made his way toward the bathroom.