An engine roared outside the front window of Grandma’s home. Violet jumped, still edgy from her run-in with the demolition derby car this morning. She’d called the police as soon as she got home and the woman who’d answered had promised to send an officer out to take the report, but she doubted any of the deputies would be racing to get to her.
Her heart sprinted and her palms grew slick as she moved carefully toward the front window to check the driveway. Maggie was asleep in her crib, but Violet could get to her and be outside in under a minute if she had to. She pulled the curtain’s corner back with trembling fingertips, scolding herself once more for not taking Wyatt’s suggestion to stick together today.
Relief washed through her chest at the sight of Wyatt’s truck, back in the driveway. He was already making his way up the front steps in long, anxious strides.
Fresh terror rent Violet’s heart as she took in his grim expression. Whatever had drawn that kind of fear on Wyatt’s face was surely something for her to worry about. “Wyatt?” she asked, opening the door with an anxious tug. “What’s wrong?”
His steps faltered a moment as his eyes landed on hers. “You’re okay,” he said, sounding half awed and half stricken. “Someone said a car fitting your vehicle’s description was run off the road this morning. I thought for sure it was you. I tried calling. You didn’t answer.” His exacting gaze lingered on her face, her neck, her chest. “You’re frightened. Breathing hard. Your cheeks are flushed. It was you, wasn’t it?”
Emotion swept up from her core, taking her by surprise. “I called the police, then I worried that the car’s driver would somehow know I tattled and come revving up the street looking for me. It’s ridiculous. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”
“You need to save my number. When I call, I need you to answer.”
Violet nodded. “Of course. I will next time.”
“Did you get a look at the driver or the license plate?”
“No plate, and I couldn’t see the driver through the tint and glare. It was crazy, though. He came out of nowhere,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice. “He kept honking. Gunning his engine. Maggie was screaming.”
Wyatt stepped closer and raised one tentative arm, an offering of comfort, hers to accept or deny. Violet hesitated. She didn’t want to cry on a near-stranger’s shoulder, but she needed the comfort, and she’d never see Wyatt again once this was over. So maybe she could be a little bit of a mess if she needed to be.
She fell against the strength of his chiseled chest and wrapped her arms around his back. His heart pounded strong and steady beneath her ear. His clothes and skin smelled of cologne and body wash, and Violet inhaled deeply.
A very long moment later, his arms circled her back, engulfing her, drawing her close in a powerful embrace. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”
She rocked her cheek against his soft black T-shirt. “Thank you. For being here. For coming to help Grandma and for staying now. I don’t know what I would do here alone. I don’t know if it’s safe to stay, or if it’s safer to go. If I leave, what happens to Grandma? If I stay, what might happen to Maggie?”
Wyatt curved his tall frame over her, lowering his mouth to her cheek. “I will protect you, your grandma and your daughter. You can trust me on that, and when I find out who is behind these violent acts, he will wish I hadn’t.”
Violet shivered. The words were flat and controlled, not spoken in anger, just statements of fact and strangely horrifying. Still, she wanted the promise to be true. “Thank you.”
The bark of a police siren jerked her upright. She loosened her grip on him as she attempted to disentangle her arms from his waist.
Wyatt held her firm, locking his fingers against the small of her back. “I told the sheriff we were a couple,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t ruin the facade.”
Violet tipped back, arching to study his blank soldier face and pressing their torsos tighter still. “What? Why?” Was that something he’d actually considered?
“He had a lot of questions,” Wyatt said. “I ran into him in town, and I didn’t want to out myself as private security.”
“Right.” She nodded. This wasn’t about her. He simply needed a cover story. He didn’t want to be her boyfriend. That was a fantasy she’d already let go too far. Besides, she knew firsthand that when men swept in to save the day, they were always gone in the morning. And Violet didn’t need drama in her life. She needed stability.
The deputy marched in their direction, one hand at the brim of his hat. “Miss Ames?”
“Yes.” Violet stepped away from Wyatt. She wrapped an arm across her middle, defending against the coolness that settled in his absence. She shook the deputy’s hand. “This is Wyatt Stone, my boyfriend.” She cleared her throat as the last word lodged there awkwardly.
Wyatt took the man’s hand smoothly and with confidence, as if it was no big deal for her to announce herself as his girlfriend and suggest all that the title might imply.
“I’m Deputy Santos,” the man said, looking the couple over. “I’m here to make a report.” His olive skin was the perfect accent to his shaggy jet-black hair and deep ebony eyes. “Were you both in the car when the incident occurred?” he asked Violet.
“No,” Violet said. “It was just my baby and me.”
Deputy Santos removed a small flip notebook from his shirt pocket and turned to an empty page. “Can you tell me everything you remember about the car, the driver and the incident?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s not much, but I’ll try,” she said.
The deputy took notes as she described the incident from start to finish in as much detail as possible. His gaze rose from the paper when she described the car that had chased her.
Wyatt shifted his stance. “You know that car?”
The deputy returned his attention to the paper, finishing whatever he’d been in the middle of writing. “I can’t say for sure, but I will look into it.” He tapped the tip of his pen against the paper. “Anything else?”
Violet shook her head. “No. That’s it.” Something about the deputy put Violet on edge. He was hard like Wyatt, without the pretense of friendship.
He nodded, then turned to Wyatt. His gaze dropped briefly to the india ink tattoo stretching from beneath his shirt sleeve. “You serve?”
Wyatt dipped his chin sharply. “Ranger. You?”
Deputy Santos stood straighter. His stern expression eased. “I was Delta Force once upon a time.”
Wyatt smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” A strange vibe cropped up between the men. “Can I ask you something?”
Santos narrowed his eyes, cautious again. “You can ask.”
“Did the sheriff’s department get a call this afternoon about a man talking to folks downtown?”
The deputy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “About a man talking to people? What do you mean?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Nothing. Let me ask you something else. How well do you know the sheriff?”
Santos blew out a long breath. “Not well.” He crossed his arms and widened his stance, seeming to consider whatever he would say next. “I got into law enforcement after the military. I came to River Gorge a few years back because I needed work, and this department had an opening. It didn’t take long to see the Mastersons run this town. And that’s fine. I don’t want to run the town. I just do my job and skip the company picnics.”
Wyatt bobbed his head. “Fair enough.”
The deputy gave Violet a long look, then turned for the driveway. “The report will be available online tomorrow. First copy is free from the secretary at the station.” He pried the door of his cruiser open and dropped behind the wheel. A moment later, he was gone.
Maggie’s cries erupted through the baby monitor in the living room.
“Sounds like dinnertime,” Violet sighed, checking her watch.
Wyatt opened the front door and held it for her to pass.
“Maggie’s like a little hobbit, eating every meal twice.” Lately, Violet couldn’t seem to stomach more than coffee. She hoped Maggie’s continued interest in food was a sign that she wasn’t as stressed out as her mom.
“Hey.” Wyatt reached the interior steps before Violet. “Why don’t I get Maggie, and you can start her dinner? Teamwork. Yeah?”
Teamwork? Well, that was a new one for Violet, especially in terms of childcare, though she absolutely wasn’t opposed. “Okay. Thank you.” Reluctantly, she headed for the kitchen, attention focused on the cries still registering through the baby monitor.
“What are you doing?” Wyatt’s voice boomed from the little speaker in mock breathlessness.
Maggie hiccuped, then gave a shorter, softer complaint.
Wyatt groaned. “You’re so heavy. I can barely lift you. Oh my goodness.” He panted.
Violet smiled as she prepped Maggie’s bottle and chose a jar of peas with carrots for her baby’s midafternoon snack.
Maggie giggled, then complained, more softly still.
“Okay,” Wyatt agreed. “I’ll try again, but you have to help me.”
“No!” Maggie yelled the only word she’d perfected.
Wyatt gasped. “What?”
Violet stifled a bubbling laugh. Maggie was every kind of cute, but Violet could already tell she was going to be a real pistol.
A moment of silence passed, then he laughed. “You didn’t tell me you could talk. What else can you say?”
“No!” Maggie growled, then laughed.
“Wow.” Wyatt’s quick footsteps rocked down the stairs a moment later, and he had Maggie in his arms. “I don’t mean to be critical, but your baby’s kind of negative.”
“No!” Maggie stated as if on cue.
Violet laughed. “That’s her only word. Be nice.”
Wyatt placed her in the high chair and put his hands on his hips. “You probably should teach her something else. What if someone comes by here offering a million dollars or free ponies?”
“No,” Maggie answered, then squealed, utterly thrilled with herself.
Wyatt lifted one palm and shoulder as if to say she’d made his case.
Violet delivered Maggie’s bottle and bowl of baby food with a smile. She took a seat at Maggie’s side and began to spoon the veggies up.
Wyatt poured two glasses of iced tea and brought them back to the table with him, setting one before Violet and sipping the other. “I ran into the sheriff today.”
“Yeah?” Violet lifted her gaze to him. “You asked the deputy about a call to the department. Was that true? Someone called the sheriff on you?”
Wyatt stretched his neck. “I don’t think so, but that was what he claimed when he found me.”
“Huh,” she huffed, frowning as she stirred the pureed food. “He seemed fine when we spoke last night after the break-in.”
“Do you know him very well?” Wyatt asked. “You grew up in River Gorge, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know him well,” she said, spooning another bite into Maggie’s open mouth. “Grandma and I never had any reason to need the sheriff. I know his mother, but not him. Honestly, I hadn’t had reason to speak with any of the local lawmen before today.”
Wyatt set his tea aside, considering her words. “The sheriff seemed to know you.”
“How so?” Curiosity flamed in her mind. “Did he say something?” Violet could only imagine the things the sheriff might have heard secondhand through the local grapevine, especially after Grandma and her friends returned from Violet’s baby shower last year. Violet had still been reeling from the sting of rejection and fear of impending motherhood, and she had been less than gracious when asked about the baby’s father.
“He seemed to imply you don’t like military men.” Wyatt shifted his gaze to Maggie. “Her father served?”
Violet stiffened. “Yes.”
“Was the sheriff right?” Wyatt asked. “You have something against military men?”
Violet dropped the little spoon, then scrambled to pick it up, hating the anger and humiliation the thought of her ex brought her. “Sheriff Masterson doesn’t know anything about me.” She exhaled. She didn’t want to talk about Maggie’s father, but avoiding the topic would only make her look more pathetic. Might as well get the story out and over with, not that there was much to tell. “Maggie’s dad was a marine,” she said. “I thought we were in love, and he shipped out making big promises about our future. We had a bit of a whirlwind romance, so I can blame myself for that.” She shot Wyatt a sheepish look. Whirlwind romances weren’t something Violet normally participated in. She tried to be much more levelheaded than that, but her ex had been so persuasive, so charming. “We traded emails for a while, but after I found out about the pregnancy, he disengaged. Completely. Changed his number. Stopped returning emails. Maybe closed the account. I don’t know, but I gave him every opportunity to know her, to be part of her life, even if I wanted to strangle him for breaking my heart. He wasn’t interested.”
Wyatt appraised her with those careful dark eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually.
“My heart was stupid, and I won’t let it happen again.” She offered an apologetic smile. She always felt guilty for speaking poorly about Maggie’s dad, even if he was a big jerk for what he’d done. “At least I got Maggie out of the mess. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Wyatt made a sour face at her baby. “I don’t know. She’s pretty negative.”
Maggie formed a wide toothless smile. “No.”
Violet laughed as she wiped carrots off Maggie’s sticky cheeks. “Are you sure this isn’t just your natural effect on women?”
A deep belly laugh broke free from Wyatt’s lips; it bounced in his chest and reached his eyes. “No. I’m honestly not sure at all.” He turned the captivating expression on Violet and silence settled over the room.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “And I don’t have anything against military men. I’m thankful for each of you and for your service.”
He watched her carefully, as if he was expecting something more.
Violet offered a handshake. “I’m glad to know you, Wyatt Stone.”
He folded her hand in his. “It was my honor.”
Their joined hands stilled. He’d held on too long and she’d let him. What did that mean? What would he think it meant? Violet pulled away, busying herself with clearing the high chair tray.
She didn’t have to have something against Wyatt to keep her heart on guard. They could be friends. Work together. Help her grandma and then part ways. Nothing more. She rubbed her hands roughly against a kitchen towel, trying not to enjoy the way he spoke sweetly to Maggie at the table or the way she blew him kisses off the palms of her chubby dimpled hands. No. This wasn’t permanent. Not even semipermanent. This was a flickering moment in her life, already on its way past.
* * *
WYATT FOLLOWED VIOLET off the back porch and into the sun. She’d said she needed some fresh air, and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go alone. Not the way things were going down around her in this town. She’d tucked her baby into a circle of fabric and hung her off one hip like a purse. It was the weirdest thing Wyatt had ever seen someone do with a baby, but Maggie appeared happy. She kicked her bare feet and looked eagerly around. Violet kept a protective arm around her, but thanks to the construction of the sling, he thought, remembering what Violet had called it, Violet’s hands were both free, too.
Violet stopped to admire her grandma’s roses. Little stone plaques placed among the mulch identified the various bushes as county prizewinners. Wyatt didn’t know much about flowers, but he could understand why these beautifully manicured plants had gotten so much glory.
“I think Deputy Santos knew that demolition derby car,” Violet said, squinting against the sweltering sun. “There was recognition on his face at the mention of it, and how many cars like that one can possibly be in one small town?”
“Maybe,” Wyatt agreed. He’d seen the look on Santos, too, but he had to be careful about assuming it meant anything more than surprise. “He seemed like an honest guy. He might make a good ally. After my run-in with the sheriff today, I’m sure he’s got something against me, and he’s the head honcho here. If he wants me arrested for interfering in his investigation, I’m going to jail. And I can’t help you from there.”
Violet paused, turning to face him. “So, he doesn’t report to anyone? That’s a lot of power in a little county like ours.”
“It’s a lot of power anywhere,” Wyatt said. He shook his head. “Maybe my brothers are right when they say I’m cynical.”
“Well,” Violet said, “I think a little cynicism is warranted here. Something is definitely wrong. Someone hurt Grandma, broke into her home and ran me off the road. Then the sheriff said he got a complaint about you in town, but the deputy didn’t hear about it. Makes me wonder if someone’s holding something over the sheriff, maybe even keeping him from acting on valid threats and feeding him information on bogus ones. I think there’s a good reason Grandma called you and not local authorities.”
Wyatt rubbed his chin, struggling to stick with the facts at hand. “There could be a number of reasons she came to me instead. Maybe she felt she couldn’t trust anyone here to keep her confidence, even the sheriff. In small towns, most people are connected somehow. News spreads. Could be that she needed more than a cop to watch her back. If she felt she was truly in danger, it’s not as if a local deputy could move in with her temporarily. And I got the feeling, through her emails, that she might’ve wanted a little help looking into something because she asked about the agency’s ability to research.”
Violet played with Maggie’s little hands as they walked, her gaze on the horizon, brow furrowed in thought. “Did you say my grandma wrote you emails? Did you keep them? Can I see them?”
“Sure.”
Violet turned on her toes and headed back to the house.
Wyatt followed. “Are you getting hungry? You didn’t eat anything earlier. There’s plenty of vegetables in the garden, and I saw a grill on the rear porch.”
Violet shot a skeptical look over her shoulder as she opened the side door to her grandmother’s home. “You don’t have to do any of that.”
“I don’t mind.” The words came easily, congenially, and Wyatt realized he meant them. He liked the idea of cooking for Violet. “Here.” They stopped in the kitchen, and he swiped through the emails on his phone before presenting the device to her. “These are all the emails I received from your grandma.”
“Thanks.” She set Maggie on the floor and handed her a large plastic block with a bell inside. “Okay.” She accepted the phone then, lips moving slightly as she read the messages to herself, scrolling slowly. “I hate that she was afraid and didn’t call me,” she said. “I don’t know what I could have done, but I wish I would’ve known. I feel so helpless.”
Wyatt pressed a palm to her back, rubbing a small circle before pulling his hand away. He stuffed the offending fingers into his pocket. Violet wasn’t his to touch. She was a client’s granddaughter, and in a few days the mystery would be solved. She’d be back in Winchester, and he’d be in Lexington trying to forget the beautiful, smart and kind brunette who’d gotten under his skin from hello.
“Wyatt?” Violet turned to him, a strange expression on her face.
“What?”
“Grandma doesn’t have a computer. So how’d she send these messages?”
The sudden roar of a massive engine split the afternoon air, stopping him from taking a guess. Glass shattered outside, and his truck alarm raged in response.
Wyatt raced to the living room and opened the front door. His truck lights flashed in protest at the apparent assault.
On the lane, a set of taillights fishtailed away, attached to the rear end of a blue-and-white demolition derby car.