Hannah woke from another restless night’s sleep. The baby’s flutters of movement had morphed into full-blown soccer matches in her belly, and he or she was quite fond of midnight game times—just in time for her to hear Brett arrive in his room after the nearly nightly patrols around the grounds that he continued to volunteer for.
She couldn’t decide if the ranch was really in that much danger or if he was trying to avoid her. Maybe he just loved riding around the ranch in the dark, for all she knew. Either way, the effect was the same: she was rarely ever alone with him anymore. But once she heard him enter his room after midnight each night, she couldn’t go back to sleep because she was too busy listening.
It was torture on her overactive libido to hear his shower water start, and to imagine him stripping down, his muscles sore from a long night of riding. So many times, she’d knelt in her bed facing the wall, her fist up and ready to knock...right up until she thought better of it. Ever since their near-kiss that first night, he’d been polite and attentive, but emotionally distant. That was probably for the better because the more she’d gotten to know him, the more those same fears that Lori had guessed during their pros and cons game that first day at the ranch came rushing back to her in full force.
Not fears about Brett’s indiscriminate pantie-melting charm, because she knew better now that he was no longer a partying womanizer. She had complete trust in him and in his assertion that his priorities and attitude had permanently changed from the man she’d hooked up with in the club. True, her physical attraction to him was even more potent than the night they’d slept together, but beyond that, she genuinely liked him. And that, in a nutshell, was her fear. It would be so easy for her fall for Brett Colton—and fall hard and fast in a forever kind of way.
His bedroom was silent this morning, which probably meant he’d caught only a few hours’ sleep before rising to tackle the daily ranch chores. She pressed her palm to the wall, sending him a silent greeting, then emerged from her bedroom to find a tray holding a fresh biscuit, jam and a carafe of milk. Edith’s doing. Ever since Hannah’s first morning at the Lucky C and the terrible morning sickness she’d experienced, Edith had gone out of her way to make sure Hannah was comfortable and nausea-free.
No more eggs, ever, and coffee was now prepared on the front porch, which had turned out to be a welcome improvement for the ranch workers and Coltons, Edith had told her, because they no longer had to take off their boots to refill their mugs. And every morning, Hannah woke to find a tray of stomach-settling food in her sitting room. Whether it was from Edith and Maria’s ministrations, or because her morning sickness was finally subsiding as the pregnancy books professed, Hannah was feeling stronger and less sick with every passing morning. She could proudly say she hadn’t thrown up in a whole week, since her second day at the ranch.
As she nibbled the biscuit, she looked out over the ranch and watched the men and women work—cattle being moved, big machines moving alfalfa and feed. She gave a little gasp of surprise when Brett appeared in her field of view. Dressed in a black cowboy hat, a camo-green T-shirt and jeans, he strode over the grounds talking into a radio, a clipboard in his other hand and Rafe walking by his side, consulting his own clipboard.
She stood at the balcony door, eating jam right out of the jar, her eyes on Brett, studying, yearning. Probably, he was right that they should leave well enough alone. Sex and romance would overcomplicate their relationship, damage it, even, because relationship statistics weren’t on their side. The odds of them starting a romantic relationship that was lasting were minuscule. Who did that? Who met at a club, had wicked animal sex, didn’t bother exchanging phone numbers, got pregnant, and then ended up falling in love? That was crazy talk.
With her mind on Brett and their future, she emerged from her suite in search of breakfast. The door to Greta’s suite was open. She’d been staying at the ranch on weekends, to give her dad moral support. When Hannah passed her door, she saw Greta standing in the sitting room of her suite, holding a paper, a hand over her mouth and a worried expression weighing in her eyes.
Hannah paused midstep. “Greta? You okay?”
With a gasp, Greta jumped, her hands flying up and the envelope fluttering to the ground along with what looked like a newspaper clipping.
Hannah rushed forward to pick up the fallen papers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Greta swooped down and snatched up the papers before Hannah could. “It’s okay. I just... I got something in the mail that rattled me.”
Hannah angled her face to look at the newspaper clipping Greta held. It was a copy of Greta and Mark’s engagement announcement. The photograph was circled in a red pen and a large red X crossed out Greta’s face. Her eyes were gouged out.
“What the...” Hannah said.
Greta pressed the clipping to her chest, hiding it from view. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“This isn’t nothing, Greta. Are there any indications of who sent it?”
Greta walked to the sofa and sank onto it. “Probably one of Mark’s ex-girlfriends. He has a lot of them.”
Hannah wasn’t sure where to start—at the pain dripping from Greta’s admission that Mark had a lot of ex-girlfriends, or the fact that one of them might be crazy enough to send an anonymous threatening letter to Greta, despite how much she and the Coltons had gone through in the past month.
Hannah assumed a seat next to Greta. “Whoever did this, why would they send it here and not your apartment or Mark’s apartment?”
She gestured to a tall chest of drawers near the door where it looked like a stack of mail sat. “I still get a fair amount of mail here. Edith collects it and puts it in here for when I pass through. The postmark is the downtown Tulsa post office.”
“You should show Ryan. If someone has it out for you, then it’s best to start an official paper trail now.”
Instead of heeding Hannah’s advice, she crumpled the newspaper clipping up and tossed it in the wastepaper bin by the bed. “Like I said. It’s probably just a jealous ex-girlfriend.”
“Do you really believe that? I don’t think there are as many crazy ex-girlfriends floating around this world as television shows and movies make there out to be.”
At that moment, Mavis chose to walk by, a laundry basket on her hip. Could she have done this? After planting that Bible in Hannah’s room, she wouldn’t put it past Mavis to do something like this to Greta if she got it in her head that Greta was a sinner, too. The thought of it made Hannah spitting mad.
“Maybe not, but who else could it be?” Greta said. “Regardless, something this minor isn’t worth worrying my brothers or dad over. They have enough on their minds.”
After a deep breath, Greta gave a whole body shake, as if sloughing off her worry.
“You should at least talk to Mark,” Hannah said.
Greta winced. “Maybe. But until I decide what to do, don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Hannah gathered her in a hug. They hadn’t spent much time together or been able to bond since Hannah came to live at the ranch, but Greta was clearly rattled and a hug seemed like the perfect gesture to let her know she wasn’t alone. “If you want to talk more, I’m here. Even if it’s just about Mark and his exes. I mean, I can relate. Look at the man in my life right now. Brett and I aren’t even romantically involved and I still don’t want to know how many exes he has.”
A halfhearted smile spread on Greta’s face. “That’s an easy answer—zero. He never dated anyone long enough to consider them exes.”
Hannah chuckled. “Comforting. Thank you. I feel so much better now about the odds of convincing him to give a relationship with me a try.” Hannah’s face instantly heated. “I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did. I do, because he’s amazing, but—”
Greta braced her arms on Hannah’s shoulders. “Your secret’s safe with me. And here’s some advice—give Brett some time. The accident he was in four months ago really scared him. He hasn’t been the same since. I know my dad and brothers are hard on him, but he’s trying his best to turn his life around. He’s a good man.”
“I agree. A very good man. Thank you.”
They shared a smile.
“No, thank you for poking your head in here,” Greta said. “We should go out together sometime. Maybe you’d like to go shopping one day? We could look at baby clothes, and maybe register for your baby shower.”
Hannah leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, goodness, I haven’t given any thought to that at all.”
“I’d love to plan one for you. It’d help take my mind off my worries about Mom and postponing my wedding. Please say you’ll let me.”
Hannah hugged her again, because she looked as if she needed as many hugs as she could get. Hannah couldn’t imagine how difficult the past month had been on Greta. For as distant and strained as Brett’s relationship was with their mother, she and Greta had clearly been close.
“I’d love for you to do that. And I’d love to go shopping with you. Just name the day and time.”
Greta sniffed. “Thank you for giving me something to look forward to.”
After another round of hugs, Hannah gave an excuse of being hungry for breakfast, then stomped down the grand staircase, through the formal living room, through the servants’ wing and down the stairs to the basement where the laundry room was located.
“Mavis Turnbolt, are you down here?”
She was greeted with nothing but silence, save for the hums and rattles of the running washer and dryer from the laundry room tucked under the stairs. She poked her head around every corner of the basement, but found no one. Back up the stairs and through the house she went, room by room, angry and determined not to let Mavis get away with any more passive-aggressive threats.
Before today, Hannah hadn’t yet ventured into the wing of the house where Big J’s and Abra’s suites were, nor had she seen the crime scene yet, but that was exactly where she found Mavis—in the sitting room of Abra’s suite, threading a gauzy, pale fabric through a long white curtain rod and muttering to herself. Bible verses from the sounds of it.
Abra’s suite was awash in sand, cream and silver tones that could have graced a suite at a luxury resort in a desert oasis, from the simple, tight-looped pale rugs that looked as though they’d never been walked on to the elegant chaise lounge and potted palm tree near where Mavis was working.
Hannah surveyed the room, marveling at its beauty though it had been the scene of such a violent act a mere few weeks earlier. The family must have taken great pains to restore the room quickly, with the hope that Abra would return to it soon.
Thinking about everything the Coltons had suffered and that Mavis had poured salt into their wounds with her egregious behavior got Hannah’s back up all over again. She barreled into the room, guns blazing. “Turn around and face me, Mavis.”
Mavis gave a squeak and whirled around, the curtain rod in hand as though defending herself. “You frightened me,” she seethed.
“It’s time for you to own up to your own sins, Miss High-and-Mighty. I know it was you who sent that newspaper clipping to Greta.”
She kicked at the curtain fabric pooling on the floor over her shoes. “Excuse me?”
Hannah strode closer. “Don’t play innocent. You know exactly what I mean.”
“I don’t, but you’d best keep your distance from me. I don’t suffer unrepentant whores well.”
Oh, the nerve of this one. Hannah jerked the curtain rod out of her hand. “Is that another threat? What are you going to do, attack me?”
The moment the words left her mouth, a chill came over Hannah. Brett’s mother was viciously attacked and left for dead within the very room in which Hannah stood. The carpet was a light cream color and looked brand-new, as though it’d been replaced since the attack. Probably because it’d had Abra’s blood on it.
Mavis certainly didn’t seem to mind being in Abra’s room. Could it be that Mavis was far more sinister than circling Bible verses that threatened death and mailing defaced engagement photographs? Was she capable of assaulting Abra? Hannah wasn’t afraid of facing off against Mavis, even physically, but she also had a baby to think about.
Confronting a possible attempted murderer wouldn’t be the safest plan, but the more she considered it, the less likely it seemed that Mavis was capable of such an overt act as physically attacking one of her employers. The Congregation of the Second Coming preferred threats and passive judgment. They preferred to leave the actual punishment to God.
“You’d better explain what business you have coming after me. Right now.”
Hannah tossed the curtain rod behind her. “The business I’m talking about is the mutilated engagement announcement you sent to Greta. Was that some sort of sick and twisted threat or condemnation of her ‘sinful ways’? Well, congratulations, you only succeeded in making yourself look like a petty, vindictive fool.”
She speared a finger at Hannah. “I didn’t send nothing to Greta, and you’d better stop spreading lies. You had better stop harassing me or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what? Leave another Bible for me in my room with more circled verses implying I should be stoned to death for my sins?”
Mavis huffed, indignant, then hoisted a plastic laundry basket onto her hips. “The thought crossed my mind. Heathens need all the divine help they can get. Especially one of Satan’s disciples who’s carrying a bastard in her womb.”
With that, Mavis brushed past Hannah, bumping her belly hard with the laundry basket.
Hannah leaped back, her arms around her belly, protective. Though she knew better than to let herself be drawn in to Mavis’s vitriol, the last shreds of Hannah’s control snapped at the rough treatment. Nobody physically trespassed against her growing baby and got away with it. She stormed after Mavis, seeing red.
“Don’t use that term in this house. And while you’re at it, don’t you ever speak of my baby again.”
Mavis sniggered and pushed out a side entrance of the house, onto the wraparound porch. “And why not? This house is a den of sin. Do you think it’s an accident that so much tragedy has befallen this place? God punishes sin, and you’d best not forget it.”
Hannah raised her open hand, ready to slap Mavis before she thought better of it. Instead she curled her fingers into a fist at her side. “Not my God,” she said through clenched teeth.
Mavis whirled to face Hannah, an ugly sneer on her lips. “My point exactly. Maybe your parents ought to follow through with their plan to hire an exorcist to rid you of that demon you’re hosting.”
Of all the things. An exorcist? They wouldn’t dare. The final threads of her composure snapped. She marched off the porch, hot on Mavis’s heels. “Why would you accept income from a place that’s a den of sin? What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I thought it was my duty to evangelize here, to get you all to see that sin and the Devil are not the way, but I’m done with that. There’s no helping you or this cursed family and I’m not giving any more of the Coltons’ dirty money to the church.” She untied her apron and threw it on the ground. “When you’re ready to repent, you know where to find salvation.”
Big J strode up as Mavis stomped away. “What was that about?”
“Mavis Turnbolt just quit.”
“Hmph. Never did like that sourpuss.” He swiped the discarded apron from the ground and put it over his neck. “Well, now that you’re doing the ranch’s books, I suppose I’m in search of a new job around here. I think I’m going to need a bigger apron, though.”
Despite herself, Hannah smiled; he looked so silly and the thought of a big old burly cowboy like him fussing over the laundry was so outrageous. “I don’t think you’d last a day. Better leave the laundry to me and Edith while you undertake the task of finding someone new. Just don’t hire anybody else from my parents’ cult, like Mavis is.”
They strolled together toward the office, Big J still with that silly apron on. “Your parents belong to a cult?”
“I used to call it a church, but I know better now. I struck out on my own the day I turned eighteen, without any real knowledge of how the world worked. I got a job at a drugstore and then another at a diner, just to make ends meet. My parents weren’t pleased by my life choices, but when my father was forced to retire from working the feed store that he and my mother own, due to his arthritis, I sucked up my pride and took over management of the store. I figured when my mother retired, too, I’d buy it from them and I went to college so I could learn how to be a good business owner and manage the store’s finances properly.”
“And then you got pregnant.”
They’d stopped in front of the steps that led to the office. “Yes. Everything changed.”
He set a hand on her shoulder, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. “For the better. Because now we have you here.”
She untwisted the apron string around Big J’s neck. “Agreed. One hundred percent. I love it here.”
And though she’d originally planned to move away as soon as she got her first paycheck, she couldn’t imagine leaving now.
“Has my son asked you to marry him yet?”
Big J had asked her that same question a few times already. Brett had said his father was increasingly forgetful, but this was the first evidence Hannah had seen of it. “No. And I’m glad he hasn’t because I’d turn him down. The only reason I would ever marry is for love.”
And even though she was half in love with the man already, it wasn’t enough to build a marriage on. Especially not when he didn’t return her feelings.
“Ah. Well, he’s got time to persuade you before the baby gets here. Say, is it a boy or a girl? I can’t remember if Brett told me.”
Another red flag went up in her mind. “We talked about that last night at dinner. We’re not sure if it’s a boy or a girl yet. We’ll find out later this month at the ultrasound appointment.”
“That’s right. We did talk about it. Riding patrol last night with Brett dulled my mind, I’m afraid.”
Hannah made a mental note to talk to Brett about his father. Perhaps letting Big J go out on patrol was too taxing a job. She was definitely going to caution Edith against letting him get anywhere near the laundry chores. “It’s okay. It was a long night for me, too, worrying about you all out there in the dark.”
“You don’t need to worry about us. We’d welcome the chance to meet up with the attacker on our land again. Teach them about the consequences of doing harm to the Colton family.”
His words chilled Hannah. What if they did confront the attacker? What would they do? Certainly not vigilante justice. She had to hope.
He gestured toward the office. “How’s the job going? You making do all right? Do you have any questions?”
“I’m loving my new job. Thank you. The books are complicated, but I’m getting my system in place one step at a time.” She debated mentioning to him about the discrepancy, then decided to wait until she’d talked to Brett.
He patted her hand. “You’re a good girl. I think I’m going to go grab some coffee. You want any?”
She couldn’t decide if he was merely having a bad morning, or if his memory lapses were something his children needed to worry about. She hated to add to Brett’s burden, not when so much else was as stake around the ranch. “No, thanks.”
“Say, I’m headed to the hospital this afternoon. What would you say about joining me? I know Abra’s not conscious, but I’d like to think she can hear us. Meeting you, hearing about the baby, it might give her more of a reason to wake up and come back to us.”
If Big J thought it would help Abra wake up, and would give her a reason to keep fighting to stay alive, then it was the least Hannah could do.
“I’d be honored.”