Grace sat in the emergency waiting room, facing the doors that overlooked the parking lot. They had given her a thorough examination, including a CT scan, and discharged her. She was absolutely mortified. Requiring an ambulance, having people fret about her, taking up their time and energy. She hated being the center of attention.
The spotlight always highlighted things she didn’t want others to see.
Now, to compound her shame, Grace was waiting on someone from the sheriff’s department to come collect her because they didn’t think she was fit to call a cab. Rather than serving as her personal taxi service, the deputies had to actually serve and protect. They had an important job. Holden most of all, while her brother was out of town.
Before she realized what she was doing she had fished out her cell phone and hit the first number saved on speed dial. “Mom.”
“Bug, I was just thinking about you, hoping you’d finally call me. But I sensed something was off with your energy. Are you okay?”
“Um... I...” As the words failed to come to her, she trailed off, not sure how to tell her estranged mother what had happened. Wearing a pair of sweats that a kind nurse had loaned her, Grace was kicking herself for messing up. Yet again. This time it was something as basic as helping someone. She had no idea if that woman was okay, and in the process of trying to avert a tragedy she had only made things worse by getting hurt. Her mother would have scared that guy off with a few choice words, without bothering the police or wielding a bat, and wouldn’t have even chipped a nail. “I’m fine.”
Her mother gave a prolonged, exaggerated sigh. “Thank heavens.” Then her sweet tone soured. “What did you do? I told your brother to keep you out of trouble.”
Grace cringed on the inside, realizing her mistake in thinking calling her mom was a good idea. It had been an impulse—a misplaced one—driven out of a desperate need for comfort. “Why do you assume I’m in trouble?”
Melodic laughter rang on the end of the phone. “Bug, darling, you’re a veritable lodestone for trouble.”
Grace bent over and dropped her head into her hand as her mother, the paragon of perfection, prattled on and on.
Selene Beauvais had once been a model. Not a rail-thin, sickly-looking waif with nothing but legs that went on for miles. Oh, no. Her mother had been a glamazon. To this day, she was the epitome of beauty and poise, with legs that went on for miles, curves that never failed to turn heads, and an arsenal of killer dresses for a wardrobe. Grace had been blessed with the ability to eat what she wanted without worrying about her weight, but her slender frame looked deflated beside va-va-voom curves. She was cute, perhaps even pretty, but far from being a knockout. As for poise and elegance, well, they had clearly skipped a generation.
Her mother had told her how she had prayed for a daughter who would embody the same qualities as her. But in the end she supposed her mom had to settle for one simply named Grace.
Once Selene had discovered her mistake in the choice of names, she took to calling her Love Bug. Somewhere along the way, love had been forgotten.
“My worst fear, Bug,” her mother said, “is that your life will go through the meat grinder out there in the wilderness. You belong in LA, with the sunshine and with me. The weather can be so harsh in Wyoming, as I’m sure you’re learning the hard way. I hope you’re moisturizing,” Selene said as a prelude to launch into Grace’s inadequacies. “Please tell me you aren’t running around without bothering to put your face on. Remember you represent this family.”
Which meant Grace represented her mother. “I like to let my skin breathe.”
She also preferred to have her hair loose or in a ponytail, not runway ready. Five-five to her mother’s lissome six-one, she never bothered with high heels.
Another sin in the book of Selene.
Her mother tsked. “My advice is to smother those pores in a little makeup. It’ll be easier to find a husband. Speaking of which, Kevin told me you haven’t been returning his phone calls. I think he wants you back. Call him. Better yet, see him.”
“I don’t want to talk to Kevin,” Grace said. “Or see him.” Much less get back together with him. Why was he even calling? She’d been living in Laramie for six months without a peep from him until recently, when the holiday blues rolled around for those who were single.
“Don’t you want to see me? I think it’s time to put an end to this Wild West madness and come home.”
It wasn’t madness for Daniel, who had moved here to claim his inheritance—a small ranch thirty minutes from downtown. Only for her. The oopsie child their father never knew about and had bequeathed nothing to because he’d passed away shortly after she’d been conceived.
“This is my home now, Mom.”
“Oh, that’s pishposh. In the morning, I’ll book a ticket for you.”
As usual, her mother was only listening to herself. “Please, don’t buy a ticket. I won’t use it.” She was determined to stay and build a new life for herself. “I’m not coming back.”
“You will. Mark my words,” her mother said, and Grace gritted her teeth. “May as well make it sooner rather than later. Stop being so stubborn. I’ll email you an e-ticket and we can spend Christmas together. Daniel’s not there, right? You don’t want to be alone for the holidays, do you?”
No, she didn’t. But she also didn’t want to spend it in her mother’s frosty shadow, constantly being reminded why Selene didn’t think she was good enough.
Grace would rather be alone for the rest of her life than live under her mother’s thumb another second.
“So I’ll get the ticket,” her mother said. “First class. My treat.”
“No. Really, Mom, don’t book a flight for me. I’m never going back to Los Angeles.” Saying the words aloud and meaning them filled her with equal parts euphoria and guilt.
Guilt for having broken free, for being, at last, her own woman, able to live her life on her terms. The remorse was residue—debris—from the hold Selene had once had over her.
But no longer.
My soul is mine again.
Movement outside the doors made Grace lift her head. A sheriff’s SUV pulled up under the awning in front of the glass doors of the emergency room.
“I’ve gotta go, Mom.”
“Promise me you’ll answer the phone the next time I call, Bug.”
In addition to avoiding Kevin’s calls, she hadn’t taken her mother’s, either. Since Grace had been the one to break the moratorium of silence it only seemed fair that she had to live with the consequences. “Promise. Love you. Bye.”
Hanging up, Grace gathered her things that were in a plastic bag and hurried to the door, not wanting whichever deputy had been tasked with taxi duty to wait any longer than necessary.
Part of her hoped it wasn’t Holden driving, wasting his valuable time like this on her.
The other part of her hoped it was him.
Every time she saw him, he was so nice to her. She’d dare even say sweet. Whenever he came into Delgado’s for dinner with his friends, he always ate at the bar and chatted with her until she’d forget she had a job to do. Sometimes he would swing in by himself for a piece of pie and cup of coffee. If it wasn’t too busy and she could take a break, he’d offer to buy her a slice on the condition she kept him company. She looked forward to his visits. He spoon-fed her his attention and she happily ate it up. Even though the only reason he went out of his way to be so friendly to her was because he wanted to stay on her brother’s good side.
Not that it mattered. She had soured on dating after her breakup with Kevin.
Before the automatic doors whooshed open, Holden was out of the vehicle and standing at the entrance. She looked up into his face and her breath caught in her throat.
“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said, his voice soothing her frazzled nerves. The corner of his mouth lifted, showing one of his dimples.
It was a small, subtle grin. The gleam in his sky blue eyes was slight. Yet it did strange things to her insides, somehow turning the dreadful churning in her belly into something lighter, warmer.
Holden put his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the vehicle. It was a casual touch, but she was aware of the weight of his hand, of its warmth, of his closeness. Any time he’d touched her before it had been in a playful manner, or accidental. Always brief.
This was different. Something about the lingering contact made her nervous.
Then he opened the passenger door for her and as his hand left her back to help her into the SUV, she missed the feel of it.
He closed the door. A moment later, he was behind the wheel, navigating out of the hospital parking lot. Her cottage wasn’t far, only a few miles outside of town.
“Thanks for driving me,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to come out to get me. I could’ve gotten a rideshare or something.”
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely. After what you went through tonight, your brother would have my hide if I let you take a cab.”
Of course Daniel would. Holden was just being a cautious chief deputy, trying to keep his new boss happy by driving her. Nothing more.
The truth stung.
But she shook it off. “I can’t go home yet. I need to lock up the bar and grill.”
“Lynn gave me her spare set of keys to the place while she’s on vacation with Nash. I can do it for you.”
“What about my car?” she asked. “I need it to get to work tomorrow.”
“I’ll pick you up. You usually leave to head over around ten thirty, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. How did you know that?”
“Estimated since I’ve seen you hauling pies from the pastry shop down the block to Delgado’s before you open,” he said. “I’ll be here at ten so I can take your statement at the office first and then drop you.”
“But it’s really not necessary. If you drop me at the restaurant now, I can spare you the drive tomorrow.”
“No buts. You were knocked unconscious. I’m not letting you drive tonight.”
He probably thought she was a pain in the neck at this point.
“I’m sorry to be such a bother.” More like a burden. She’d have to find some way to make it up to him. Maybe try baking him a pie herself. “How is the woman from the B and B? I asked if she had been brought into the hospital also. Nurse Tipton said she couldn’t give me any information about other patients. Is she all right?”
Holden stiffened, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “When I got to her, she was dead. The medical examiner is at the crime scene now.”
Dead. Grace’s heart sank. “Was she strangled?”
He gave her a hard glance. “Why would you ask that? Did you see him choking her?”
“I think so.” Grace tried to recall exactly what she had seen. The two wrestling. His hands on her. Possibly wrapped around her throat. The woman fighting to get free. “If only I had been faster getting out there.”
She had hesitated before as well as after calling the sheriff’s department. That delay had cost someone their life.
“Then you might be dead, too,” Holden snapped. His gaze, stark and blue and unfathomable, met hers.
Something in her chest tightened uncomfortably. “Are you angry at me?”
“No,” he said with a sharp shake of his head.
But he was.
He turned back to stare at the road. “I’m angry at the situation.” His voice was low and even.
“The situation of me trying to help someone?”
“You were reckless.” Another glance her way. Softer this time. Not so full of reproach. “Brave, too, but reckless. I knew you were gutsy—just had no idea you would go out there with a baseball bat. After you called me, you should’ve waited inside Delgado’s. You could’ve been seriously hurt. Or worse.”
If she had been, then it would’ve put him in a difficult spot with her brother. She hadn’t considered the impact her actions might’ve had on him.
“I didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you,” she said. During all their discussions, they had never talked about the hard time he was going through. Or the pervasive negative gossip about him that had spread through town like a disease.
Daniel had shared scant details regarding Holden. She had heard plenty while working at Delgado’s to fill in the blanks. Not only had the previous sheriff been involved in some sex trafficking ring, but so had a former judge and Holden’s fiancée at the time, a parole officer. No one in town believed it was possible that Holden hadn’t known. That the chief deputy had had the wool pulled over his eyes by the two people he’d been closest to.
Except for Daniel, who had enough healthy skepticism to let Holden keep his job unless his actions showed that he deserved to be fired. Her brother was a big believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt.
So was Grace. “I understand the position you’re in at the sheriff’s department,” she said. How precarious things were for him. Daniel was giving Holden a chance, but that didn’t erase all of her brother’s uncertainty.
“You don’t understand what it’s like. The cold stares. The snide comments. No one does. One minute I was living a charmed life and just like that—” he snapped his fingers “—it was all snatched away.”
It was true. She had never been at the center of a scandal, but she was familiar with the scorching heat of being under a bright spotlight. “I do know what it’s like to be underestimated. To be unfairly judged. It’s not exactly the same, but I have some idea. I get that it’s been hard for you.” Glancing down at his hand on the console between them, she wanted to reach out and take it in hers. Instead, she looked out the window. “My brother never should’ve made me your obligation.” Adding her to his list of worries. “I’m sorry about that. I’m a grown woman, responsible for my own actions. I’ll call Daniel and ask him to let you off the hook.” Assigning Holden as her babysitter wasn’t right to either of them.
“Please, stop apologizing.”
“What?”
“You apologize a lot. Too much. You shouldn’t,” he said, his voice still low, thrillingly rough. “There’s no need.”
She swallowed hard, wondering if he was correct. Did she apologize a lot?
Holden turned down the long rural road that her cottage was on. The houses and ranches were spread far apart with a mile or more of land between them. To her, the road was too dark, needing more lampposts, and the area felt somewhat isolated. Lonely. Not to mention she disliked the fact that it was dirt and gravel, forcing her to drive under thirty-five miles per hour on it.
“Your brother did the right thing,” Holden said. “And I’m fine staying on this hook.”
“Daniel thinks you’re a good deputy.” She tilted her head at him, peering closer, and captured a glimpse from him. “It won’t hurt your standing with him at the department if I spoke to him. You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll make sure of it. Your job is safe. Really.”
Holden turned into her driveway and parked in front of the quaint cottage she called home.
She grabbed the door handle to get out.
“Hey.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, drawing her gaze, and leaned in. “You’re new in town. No family here besides Daniel. No friends from what I can tell. You need someone to look out for you, someone you can turn to for whatever reason. I don’t mind being that person and it’s not because I’m worried about my job,” he said, giving her the look—a torturous mix of sincerity and sweet heat.
She wasn’t sure if the heat on his part was real or if she was imagining it, but what was undeniable was the flutter of butterflies in her belly whenever she was the focus of his attention.
His gaze slipped to her mouth, and for a second she thought he might lean closer. Might even kiss her.
But did she want him to?
In that heartbeat of her uncertainty, Holden lowered his head along with his hand, dropping it from her shoulder. “Everyone needs a friend that they can count on.”
Her attraction to him might be one-sided, which was honestly for the best, but at least their budding friendship wasn’t.
“Thanks for the ride.” She opened the door.
“If you need anything else tonight, give me a call. Regardless of the hour.”
“Are you working all night?”
His brow furrowed. “No. I’ll text you. So you have my cell number. Call anytime.”
Guess that meant he already had hers. “Okay,” she said with no intention of disturbing him any more tonight. No matter what.
“I’ll wait until you get inside.”
Seemed like overkill, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it.
She hopped out, shutting the door behind her. She climbed the four steps up to the porch and dug out her keys from her coat pocket. A little tremor of awareness went through her as she felt him watching her while she unlocked the door. She liked it.
Grace gave a quick wave. He returned it. She ducked inside and locked the door as he drove off.
By the time she was sliding the chain on, her cell phone dinged. She took it out and the phone slipped through her fumbling fingers, but she managed to catch it before it hit the floor.
Hey, this is Holden. Get some sleep.
She pulled back the curtain. Watching him drive away on the road, she texted him.
You, too. Thanks again. For everything.
Holden: You’re welcome. And FYI, you’re not a bother to me.
Biting her lower lip, she stared at the words, not wanting to read more into them. Better to take it at face value. Looking at his last text once again, she couldn’t help but smile.
The friend zone was safe. But it didn’t mean a girl couldn’t fantasize. And Holden gave her plenty to imagine.
High cheekbones. Classically handsome chiseled features. Adorable dimples. Sunny blond hair. Startling blue eyes. Tanned skin. And his body... The thought of it made her tingle.
He was so hot. In that riding-horses, hands-dirty, bailing-hay, well-worn-jeans way. In addition to being the chief deputy, he was a rancher.
One thing was for certain, he had hit pay dirt when it came to his looks, and he had an air of confidence that made him even more attractive.
Still smiling, she flipped the switch, turning on the light in the living room along with the Christmas tree.
“Evening, Grace.”
Gasping, she stopped dead, her belongings falling from her hands as her skin coated in ice when she heard a deep male voice that shouldn’t be coming from her living room. She stared at the burly man stretched out on the recliner with his feet up, facing her.
Rodney Owens.
Air stuck in her lungs.
He was skulking in the darkness like a predator to scare her senseless, and it was working because she didn’t know what he was capable of, and he was in her living room!
“What are you doing in my house?” Her heart hammered in her throat. “It’s after midnight.”
“Not like you keep banker’s hours.” He grinned. The look was feral. “And this is my house.”
Technically, the house belonged to Oscar Owens, his father.
“I’m a tenant who pays rent. That makes this my home.” Fighting against the trembling of her body, she folded her arms across her chest and squared her shoulders, refusing to let this creep see how much he was frightening her. “You can’t just come in here whenever you want. Legally you have to give me notice.” Even then, he shouldn’t be waiting for her in the dark like some weirdo.
“I didn’t have to give you notice,” he said.
“I’m no lawyer, but I know my rights.”
Pulling the lever on the side of the chair, he lowered his feet to the floor. He bent over and picked up a toolbox. Wearing jeans, a dark jacket and work boots, he crossed the open space and came right up to her. His hair was as greasy and slick as the smile spreading wider over his face. “Might want to check those rights again,” he said, looming over her. “You requested maintenance. I fixed your water heater.”
That part was good. The rest was unacceptable. “Why didn’t you leave after you were finished?”
“Because I wanted a word with you.”
This was exactly what she didn’t need after the night she’d had. Whenever Rodney spoke to her it was always about one thing.
Grace groaned. “Not now.”
“I want you out of here come the new year,” he said, ignoring her.
“That’s going to be a problem, considering my one-year lease isn’t up until June.”
“My father promised to sell this parcel of land and the house along with it. I was counting on that money and I intend to get it.”
Oscar had almost reached his breaking point, on the verge of caving in to Rodney’s demands to sell this lot. Before his wife died, she had always hoped the cottage would be fixed up and someone would love it. When Oscar overheard Grace talking about needing to find a new place to call home, he’d offered to rent her the cottage, fully furnished, if she agreed to slowly work on the place. Paint, refinishing the floors, stuff that required a little elbow grease.
“Take this up with your father.” She slid the chain off and opened the door. “Not me.”
“Terminate your lease early. You’ll get back your deposit. I’ll even throw in extra for the inconvenience. Let’s say two months’ worth of rent. That’s a generous offer.”
Indeed, it was. Too bad it came hand in hand with despicable harassment. “No, thanks.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I like living here.”
“I’ve been nice about this so far. But we can do this the hard way.”
Pinpricks of fury needled her spine. The one thing she would never tolerate was a bully. “Get out.”
“This isn’t over. Do you hear me? You think me sitting in your living room gave you a fright?” He gave a dark chuckle filled with pure evil. “Girlie, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
The threat hit her like a physical touch slithering across her skin, making it hard not to tremble.
“Ooh, I’m scared,” she said, her voice cutting like steel, though her nerves were rubbed raw. “Quaking in my boots.”
“You should be.”
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
Rodney cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“My brother is the sheriff. He won’t take too kindly to you threatening me.”
With a cruel, determined smile, Rodney stepped closer, crowding her space. He reeked of cigarettes and beer, making her stomach turn. “Word is he’s on vacation. For a couple of weeks. Twelve days to be precise. Visiting his girlfriend all the way in Paris, trying to win her back after she dumped him. Isn’t that right?”
A shiver went down her spine. Apparently, word had spread despite Daniel’s discretion, and it had been chillingly accurate.
Then she realized Rodney hadn’t pulled a stunt of this magnitude before now. He had waited, biding his time until her only family and source of protection was gone. Leaving her vulnerable.
“A lot can happen in two weeks,” he sneered. “Be so much easier if you packed up and moved on.”
Now Grace was having a different kind of fantasy. About kicking this pig between his legs. Or punching him. In the throat. “Leave. Now.”
“Or what?”
She was going to make her fantasy a reality.
Selene had made certain Grace knew how to defend herself so she would never be the victim of date rape or an aggressive bully who wanted to get physical. She was no expert by any stretch of the imagination, but thanks to five years of Krav Maga, she was no pushover, either. Through self-defense classes she had learned to overcome the challenge of her petite build, but she didn’t want Rodney to know that. In the event he took her on, he was still a big guy and a punch from him would pack a wallop. If he thought she was helpless, it might work to her advantage one day.
For now, she backed up, keeping her eyes on him, and snatched the shotgun from above the fireplace. It was loaded and Daniel had taught her how to use it.
She pointed it at his chest. “Or you’ll regret it.”
He glared at her but left, slamming the door behind him.
Next time he lurked in the dark in her cottage, she wouldn’t be able to rely on the shotgun. Rodney might unload it.
Perhaps it was time to buy a handgun to keep in her purse.
She went to the door and quickly turned the bolt and threw on the chain, as though she could lock the devil out.
At the window, she pulled back the curtain to be sure Rodney was leaving. He stormed off to the side of the property into a dense grove of dark, shadowy pine trees. He lived with his father a couple of miles away in that direction, but she doubted he had walked to the cottage. Not at night in the cold.
Headlights flashed on in the cluster of trees, igniting another hot flare of anger in her. The SOB had hidden his truck so she wouldn’t have any idea he was lurking inside.
Rodney pulled off in his pickup and turned down the gravel road, but a wave of relief didn’t follow. Although he was gone, for now, she suspected that he was right.
His words tumbled through her head. A lot can happen in two weeks.
This wasn’t over. It was just the beginning.
“Give it your best shot, Rodney.” Because she wasn’t breaking her lease.
Not without a fight.