Protector: Doms of Mountain Bend Book 1

by BJ Wane

  “I agree, you should relocate, at least for a while. Stay here tonight, give me time to come up with something. Will you do that?”

  One thing he admired about Lisa was her independence, her refusal to lean on anyone, even if he thought a lot of it stemmed from fear of opening herself up for possible heartache. There were times he worried she used it as a shield to keep others from getting too close and then losing them, like her mother. She was careful, too careful not to let herself rely on anyone else for her happiness.

  She hesitated, biting her lower lip before shaking her head. “No, I have a slew of papers to grade this weekend and don’t want to impose on you other than to ask for a ride back to my apartment. I’m not sure leaving is even an option, as I have to work, but I could apply for a short leave, so it’s something I’ve considered.”

  “You might think about a permanent move. You’ve never lived anywhere else, and a new location could open up all kinds of possibilities for your future, not to mention throwing off this stalker.”

  A teasing glint entered her eyes as a grin replaced her stressed look. “No matchmaking with one of your out-of-state friends, Father.” She shook her finger at him as she stood then tossed her can in the recycle bin.

  He laughed. “No, nothing like that, I promise. Come on, then, I’ll take you home.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Maybe come morning, the mechanic will tell me my brakes were just worn, and I will have bothered you for nothing.”

  “We can only hope and pray the solution is that easy.” Picking up his keys, he prayed she stayed safe. “With the new priest taking on the majority of work, I’ve cut down on my duties, so don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. I can be at your apartment in ten minutes.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  ****

  Lisa didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned all night, jumping at every sound, thinking it was an intruder. After taking a hot shower and downing three cups of coffee the next morning, she sat cross-legged on the floor and started grading a stack of papers, waiting for the call about her car. What would she do, where would she go if they confirmed her worst nightmare and found someone had tampered with the brakes? Her head was so muddled from lack of sleep and lingering trepidation from her close call last night, she couldn’t even concentrate on her first-graders simple addition problems. Father Joe’s suggestion to get away for a while had matched what she’d been thinking and warranted consideration, but she didn’t have the finances to get by without working for long.

  Rubbing her eyes an hour later, she jerked when her phone pealed and she recognized the repair shop’s number. His report of a leak in her brake fluid caused nausea to churn in her cramped abdomen. She was meticulous about getting regular tune-ups, and even though he didn’t say it, her gut instinct told her that leak didn’t just happen, that somehow her stalker had sabotaged the line. That wasn’t enough to take to the authorities, so she thanked him and hung up after saying she would pick up her repaired car before closing today.

  Lisa spent the evening on pins and needles, wavering between risking the odds she would stay safe and being overly cautious by leaving town for a while. She had friends, but no one she was close to and could rely on for help other than Father Joe, but she hesitated to lean on the sixty-five-year-old priest too much. She also didn’t want to worry him, not after all he’d done for her over the years, and had put off calling him with an update about her car long enough.

  He answered on the first ring, and she felt bad for making him wait. “What did the mechanic say?” he asked.

  “They found a leak in the brake fluid, a common enough occurrence to negate going to the cops again. Maybe I panicked for nothing.” She didn’t believe that but saw no need to stress Father Joe out more than she already had.

  “Don’t take the chance, Lisa.” He paused a moment before his tone turned cautious as he asked, “Do you remember much about the night the three teenagers brought you here from your first foster home?”

  The unexpected resurrection of that trauma-filled night made Lisa’s knees give out, and she sank down onto the sofa with a painful indrawn breath. She didn’t recall much about two of those boys, but she’d never completely forgotten the one with the soothing deep voice, comforting hold, and soft gray eyes, or the confusing heartache of his swift disappearance from her life. As a distressed, confused child, the pang of betrayal she experienced when he vanished without a word after sweeping in like a superhero to save her had made sense. As an adult twenty years later, she never expected the quick return of those hurt feelings just from bringing up that memory.

  “Vaguely,” she replied. “Why?”

  “They live near Mountain Bend, Idaho, and I’m sure one would let you stay with him…”

  “No, no way will I impose on strangers with my problem,” she interrupted, refusing to consider such a plan.

  “One of them, Shawn McDuff, is a deputy sheriff. I know you’ll be okay with him,” Father Joe stated calmly, as if ready for her negative reaction.

  Lisa couldn’t imagine the humiliation of showing up on one of those men’s doorsteps all these years later, the once pathetic girl now a grown woman still in need of protection from a cowardly bully. “I don’t want to put someone out to deal with this, Father.”

  “I understand your reluctance, but I don’t know what else to tell you. You can’t go off alone, with no destination or plan for the next few weeks. Will you at least think about it tonight?”

  Lisa rubbed her brow, hating she caused the worry in his voice. “Yes, I’ll do that and call you in the morning,” she agreed to ease his concern. “Thanks, Father.”

  She hung up and, unable to help herself, she padded over to her computer in the corner, curiosity overruling common sense. “This is stupid,” she mumbled, sitting down and typing in a search for sheriff’s deputies, Mountain Bend, Idaho. Then her heart tumbled as a picture popped up, and she eyed the rugged features of the badge-wearing cowboy named Shawn McDuff for a hint of recognition. A black Stetson shielded his eyes, but she could make out a straight nose, shadowed jawline, and sculpted lips curled up at the corners. Thick, muscled arms were crossed in front of a wide chest, and her mouth went dry as she tried to remember which one he was.

  Scrolling down, she found a clipping from the Mountain Bend newspaper and read the accounting of his rescue of a four-year-old boy who had fallen down a well. Twenty years and this one is still saving innocent kids. Was he the one who had carried her to safety that night? The article continued on the next page, but it wasn’t the photo of the grateful parents that snagged her attention. Right below the headline story was a large ad by the local school district, depicting their dire need for a substitute elementary teacher to finish the final school semester in the rural area.

  Lisa shoved away from the computer and jumped to her feet. “What am I thinking? I can’t pack up and move to Idaho for a few months.” Pacing the worn carpet, she told herself it was an insane idea to contemplate leaving the only place she’d ever lived, and approaching one of those men was out of the question. She barely recalled the only one she’d gotten a good look at before he’d scooped her up in his arms, and, in all likelihood, they had forgotten all about her a long time ago. There was no way she’d impacted any of their lives as much as the one’s timely intervention had hers. Spinning around, she shut the computer down and resumed grading, determined to put that idea out of her mind.

  By the time she finished dinner Sunday evening and there were no more threatening messages, Lisa allowed the butterfly flutters of apprehension in her stomach to ease. Her relief lasted all of one hour before a loud thump against her door caused her to jump and her pulse to skitter as she walked over and looked out the peep hole. She didn’t see anyone, only the taillights of a car speeding out of the apartment complex parking lot. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she inched open the door, gasping and stumbling back when her eyes landed on the dead cat lying in a pool of blood on the welcome mat, a
note pinned to its shoulder.

  YOU’RE NEXT.

  Shaken, Lisa slammed and locked the door, then sank to the floor and sobbed into her hands. What had she ever done to deserve such hatred? She no longer cared if the idea of running away, leaving the only city she’d called home, caused her grief. This latest threat left her no choice but to get away as fast as possible. As soon as she got herself under control, she called Father Joe.

  “Okay, Father,” she said when he answered. “I agree, I need to leave for a while.”

  “What’s happened, child?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

  She wasn’t that lost, frightened child he’d first met anymore, but at that moment, the insecurities she remembered after her mother died came rushing to the surface in full force. Her tone wobbled as she described the poor cat, her heart continuing to pound against her chest.

  “If he can do such a cruel thing, I have no doubt he’s serious about hurting me. I can get hold of the principal tonight and request an emergency leave. Just promise me one thing, Father.”

  “Anything, if it will get you to agree to go to Idaho for a while.”

  “Don’t let any of those men know I’m coming. Please. If I get that temporary position, two months’ absence should be enough for him to lose interest in me.”

  He hesitated, and she held her breath, hoping he would agree. When he did, it was with obvious reluctance.

  “Okay, but promise you’ll contact me when you get there.”

  “I will, Father.”

  Chapter Two

  “Have you given any more thought to running?” Lyle Fenton asked Shawn the minute he stepped inside the county office.

  Placing his fists on his hips, Shawn sent his boss, the sheriff, an irritated look. “I just finished my shift, and you’re already hounding me.”

  “Hey, time’s wasting. You only have another week to put your name in. The election is just seven months away.”

  Shawn swept by Lyle and tossed his hat onto his desk, still unsure whether he wanted to get into the politics of law enforcement. Lyle planned to retire this year, and as the deputy sheriff with the most time under his belt, he supposed he was the logical person to take his place. Problem was, he’d been contemplating returning to ranching full-time, alongside Dakota, ever since an un-scratchable itch had taken up residence between his shoulder blades right before his thirty-fifth birthday. So far, he’d failed to find a reason for his discontent or a remedy to alleviate his recent dissatisfaction with life. He’d hoped buying Spurs would give him the extracurricular activity and up-kick he was craving. But the second-floor renovation was just completed and the grand opening planned for tonight, and he still found himself mired in a funk.

  Kevin Holmes, the second-shift new hire, cast them a curious glance from his seat at the switchboard. With a huff, Shawn faced Lyle again.

  “I wouldn’t be good at kissing ass, Lyle. You know that.”

  Lyle folded his tall, lanky frame into his chair behind his desk. His handlebar mustache twitched with the derisive curl of his mouth. “Trust me, I know. That doesn’t negate the fact you’d be good at the job. In fact, I view your honesty and low tolerance for BS a point in your favor.”

  Shawn pulled out the tickets he’d written that day and tossed them to Kevin to log in on the computer. Other than breaking up a noon brawl at the Watering Hole, Mountain Bend’s only bar, and answering yet another domestic disturbance call from the Campbell’s neighbor, Gladys Archibald, his day had been uneventful. He still simmered with frustration over Louise Campbell’s refusal to press charges against her abusive, good-for-nothing husband, Chester, but as he’d learned from all the other times he’d been called to the house, there was nothing he could do about it until she was ready to say she’d had enough.

  “I’ve got a week, yet. Let me give it some more thought.” He sat down to write up his daily report, ignoring Lyle’s grunt, eager now to clock out and go for a long, vigorous ride on his dun Mustang, Nevada.

  Thanks to daylight savings, the sun still shone bright when Shawn left the precinct and slid behind the wheel of his cruiser, the use of the sheriff’s vehicle just one of the perks of working for the state. Mountain Bend was an eclectic blend of the old and new, tourists drawn to the nearby ghost town attraction along the river. The well-preserved original buildings dating back to the 1880s mining days were toured by thousands every year. Early travelers were already trickling in, as he noted by the full parking lot at the brewery steak house on the edge of town, and the no vacancy sign at the hotel.

  Mountain Bend’s small population of year-round residents almost doubled during the summer months, the extra revenue enough to see them through the long, cold winters when they had their town to themselves. The extra work meant a lot of overtime for the department and kept Shawn away from the ranch way too much during the nicest weather when he enjoyed being out on the land the most. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from the job he loved and used to reap such satisfaction from.

  He hated his recent wishy-washy decision making and uncertainty, and hoped it was a temporary side effect of whatever was causing his discontent. Opting to take the rural, two-lane country road to the ranch, he took his time, well aware he was stalling before going out to Spurs. He wasn’t in the mood for socializing but was obligated to show up for their new opening as an owner and to introduce the private rooms on the added second story to the members.

  The view of snow-capped mountains rising behind widespread, soon-to-be-golden wheat fields settled any lingering tension from a busy day, and thankfully, today was no exception.

  A mile out of town, he spotted a compact yellow car on the side of the road up ahead, a petite woman with shoulder-length white-blonde hair delivering a swift kick to the flat rear tire. A grin tugged at his lips as he pulled up behind the Volkswagen, wondering if her pale face was due to hurting her foot or her natural complexion. She swung her head toward him as he got out, and he was struck by a chord of familiarity even though he would swear he didn’t know her.

  Striding toward her, he saw a flash of surprise in her eyes as he nudged the brim of his Stetson up and quickly sought to reassure her. “Ma’am. I’m Deputy Sheriff McDuff. If you’ll pop your trunk, I’ll give you a hand.”

  “Oh, I…well, okay. Thank you.”

  She swallowed, and damn if he didn’t want to put his mouth on that slender throat, sink his teeth into her soft skin. The instant flare of lust caught him off-guard, and was unacceptable. He’d stopped as an officer of the law sworn to look after others, not as a Dom drawn by her flustered appearance.

  “No problem.” Shawn forced himself to look away from her ass encased in snug denim as she pivoted and bent inside the open driver’s-side door to pull the trunk lever. She straightened, tucking her hair behind her ear as she faced him again. Her striking green eyes held a hint of wariness, clinging to the sight of him as if he weren’t real, that look tugging at his memory banks again even though he could swear he’d never met the woman. “Is there a problem, ma’am?” he asked, moving to lift out the spare, taking note of the packed trunk and rear seat. He should admonish her for blocking her view with belongings, but, given her state of apprehension and the compact size of the VW, he refrained.

  “No.” She shook her head and stepped away from him as he attached the jack. “I just didn’t expect…I mean, there’s been no traffic on this road.”

  “Yeah, it’s used mostly by the ranchers, not travelers. Where are you headed?” He popped the flat tire off, eyeing the bald tread. It was a wonder she hadn’t suffered this fate before today.

  She peered up at him. “Mountain Bend. Am I close?”

  Her gaze skittered off to the side, making him question why he made her nervous. The thought of a cop or anyone else giving her just cause for such uneasiness didn’t sit well with him.

  “About a mile, is all. You must have turned off the highway an exit too soon. That happens a lot. What brings you to Mo
untain Bend?” He hoped his casual chatter put her at ease. She was wound as tight as the raccoons when the dogs chased after them.

  “A temporary job offer.”

  When she wasn’t any more forthcoming, he nudged his hat back, swiveling on the balls of his feet toward the spare, and looked up at her again. “Not too many jobs that would entice an outsider…” Shawn snapped his fingers. “You must be the new teacher hired to fill in for Cathy Daniels.” He was glad to see her narrow shoulders finally relax. While he was all for women who traveled alone practicing caution, he didn’t care for the nervous tension pouring off her in waves. Too bad being a cop didn’t give him the right to demand answers about the source of her obvious agitation.

  “Yes. I’ll finish teaching her second graders while she’s on maternity leave, and maybe stick around to fill in for summer school. I don’t know yet.”

  She stooped and handed him a lug nut before he asked, a hint she knew how to change a flat. That’s what he got for assuming she was too petite and delicate to handle the chore. He could still swear he knew her from somewhere, that he’d seen those eyes before, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine where.

  “Have we met?” he asked bluntly, not one to sit around and wonder for long. Her gaze widened, but she shook her head.

  “This is the first time I’ve been to Idaho,” she replied, shifting her eyes to the side again.

  That wasn’t really an answer, but Shawn let it go for now in favor of getting them both on their way. He tightened the last bolt in place, spun the tire, then pushed to his feet. “That should hold you until you can get it into the body shop for new tires. All four need to be replaced. Here.”

  After wiping his hands on the towel she handed him, he reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew one of his cards. Scrawling Ed’s name and address on the back, he handed it to her, unprepared for the electric jolt that hit him when the tips of his fingers brushed hers. She gasped, jerking her hand back after taking the card, and he wondered if she experienced the same heat as he. He hadn’t reacted so strongly to first meeting a woman in a long time, if ever, and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He was a master at sexual control, but right now, all he could think about was bending her over the rounded hood of the VW and shoving those butt-hugging jeans down, baring her lily-white ass to play with while he plummeted her sweet pussy.