All things considered, she needed to remain independent. In case things went south. In case Holt tossed her out when he learned about the baby.
“Was there something else you needed?” AnnaLeigh asked.
“I almost forgot to tell you, and it’s probably nothing. But I was at the gas station a few minutes ago, and a man in a newer black car was asking the attendant about you. I know most everyone around Refuge, but he was a stranger.”
A chill tingled down AnnaLeigh’s spine. Alan’s threatening messages sprang to mind. He’d claimed to know her whereabouts. She’d hoped it was a lie. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom.
“Did he mention what he wanted,” AnnaLeigh asked, “or leave his name?” No need to panic. Maybe the man was one of Holt’s friends or someone from church.
No, couldn’t be. Friends would know where she worked. And Dakota would have recognized anyone local.
Her knees weakened, felt like water. The foreboding deepened, like dark clouds before a storm.
“He didn’t say,” Dakota answered. ”And I guess the attendant doesn’t know you. It was none of my business, so I didn’t say anything, and, maybe I’m being weird, but I didn’t like the guy’s attitude. He was kind of pushy.”
Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord. It must have been Alan. Or one of his hirelings.
Panic welled. She held the fear in check and managed to flap a hand, casual-like. “Probably no one important, but thanks for telling me.”
“Sure.”
The woman took her bag and left. AnnaLeigh stumbled to the bathroom, sick at her stomach, but even sicker at heart.
If Alan was in Refuge, he might come in the shop. He might find her.
She had to get out of town. Now.
When she exited the bathroom, Rachel stood at the register, counting the day’s receipts.
“Do you mind if I leave early?” AnnaLeigh asked.
A wad of dollar bills in one hand, Rachel paused to glance up. “Is everything okay? You look upset.”
“I need to talk to Holt about something important.”
Rachel tilted her dark head. “A newlywed’s tiff perhaps?”
“Something like that.” Even if the man at the gas station wasn’t Alan, the conversation she dreaded couldn’t wait any longer.
“Go ahead.” With elegant, manicured hands, Rachel paper-clipped the bills and reached for the change. Coins clattered against the metal tray. “Business is slow; I can handle the rest of the day.”
“Thanks, Rachel.” Grabbing her handbag, AnnaLeigh rushed to her car. She needed to be at home, far out in the country, with Holt where she’d be safe. Alan wouldn’t find her there.
When she arrived at the ranch, she hit the door running. “Holt!”
He came out of the bedroom, freshly showered and nicely dressed, a jacket over one arm. Her heart sunk. She’d forgotten about tonight’s trip to haul cattle. He’d be away from home for hours. She’d be alone with a child. His child.
She started to ask to go with him, but that wasn’t possible. Jacey wasn’t out of school yet.
Holt took one look at her face and said, “What’s wrong?”
The worry and fear of the last few months flooded over her until she was swamped. She ran into his arms. His jacket whispered to the wood floor.
“Hey, now.” Those strong, muscled arms pulled her into a protective cocoon. They felt so good. She was safe, as long as Holt was with her. “What’s happened? Talk to me, babe. You’re shaking.”
The concern in his voice brought relief…and courage. He cared. She knew he did.
Would he still care once she’d told him?
Time had run out. She had no choice.
“I have a confession.” Holding tight, afraid of letting go lest she fall, lest she lose him, she tilted her head back to look into his warm, worried eyes. “I broke some of your rules. One in particular. I haven’t been able to keep my end of the deal.”
His eyebrows crashed together. “What are you talking about?”
“The love rule. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to fall in love—”
“In love? With who?” Holt’s voice deepened, dark and dangerous, his eyes turning as icy as January. “Was he before or after you promised to be my wife?”
“No. Holt, no. I love you.” She touched his beloved jaw. It was hard as granite. “Rules three and six and the platonic contract. I promised not to love you, but I can’t keep that promise any longer.”
His jaw softened. Wonder slowly brightened his face. His mouth opened, closed, opened. “Say that again.”
“I love you. I know you don’t love me, and I can live with that, but I have to tell you the truth, all of it—”
The rest of her confession disappeared in a kiss so beautiful that tears sprang to AnnaLeigh’s eyes.
When the kiss ended, Holt leaned his forehead against hers, his breath puffing soft and warm against her skin. “Say it again.”
“I love you. Do you want me to leave? Are you mad?
His thumbs stroked the corners of her mouth, lifting them into a smile before kissing her again. “Mad about you.”
Her heart leaped. “You are?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head in wonder. “I am. It’s been right there in front of my eyes for days, maybe weeks. Then, when you burst through the door, yelling my name, fear jolted me like a lightning bolt. The truth hit me. I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because I love you.”
He loved her, a dream come true. But would he feel the same after he heard the rest of her confession?
“Oh, Holt. I can’t believe this.”
He laughed softly. His eyes bore into hers, bright and shining. “Me neither, so let’s believe it together. You’re my wife. I love you. You love me. We’ll figure out the rest.”
She hoped so. Desperately, she hoped so.
Awash in joy and fear, heart thundering, she wanted to cling to him and hide from the haunting truth. To lock out the rest of the world and remain right here in the arms of the man she loved, the man who loved her, with the family she’d dreamed of her entire life.
“We really need to talk,” she said. “I have so much to tell you, and I want you to know everything about my past In case you want to change your mind.” Something terrible had happened, and he deserved to know, especially now that love was part of the equation.
“I won’t change my mind, AnnaLeigh.” He kissed her nose. “But we do need to talk. I want to know all there is to know about you.” He huffed in frustration. “Not now though. I have to get on the road, or I won’t be back until late. But when I get home to my wife”—he kissed her again, long and deep until they both trembled. “Hold onto that until I get home.”
“But I have to tell you about—“
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Tonight.”
Holt picked up his coat and started out the door. He turned once and shot her a wink and a saucy grin.
The door closed. AnnaLeigh hurried to the window to watch him drive away.
Her husband loved her.
She hadn’t told him.
Worried, afraid Alan would find her, afraid of what would happen when Holt returned, she turned back to the room, lost.
Red roses, a whole vase of them, brightened the center of the new dining room table.
“Where—?” She went to them and fished out the small card.
I’m sorry for upsetting you. Be happy again. The simple message was signed by Holt.
Her sweet cowboy thought he was the problem.
AnnaLeigh pressed the card to her chest. “Oh, Holt. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
She took out her phone and texted, “I love the flowers. Thank you.”
Holt responded with a tender message, ending with, I love you. Can’t wait to see you again.
Don’t text and drive. I love you too much.
She added a smiley face and a heart, though her own heart fretted about what he didn’t know. Would he be as loving then?
An
naLeigh glanced at the windmill clock. Another hour and a half before school released. She’d promised to take Jacey shopping for new shoes.
Did she dare drive into Refuge?
Maybe she should call the school and have Jacey ride the bus. They could always shop another time, after she was certain the stranger was no longer in town.
When Holt returned tonight, she would confess everything before Alan discovered her whereabouts and before Holt agreed to tear up the contract, toss out his rules, and take their relationship to the next level.
She was terrified.
After organizing the evening meal and cleaning a house that wasn’t messy, AnnaLeigh phoned the school with instructions for Jacey to ride the bus. Disappointed was better than unsafe.
She gnawed the edge of a thumbnail. Would Holt’s perky tumbleweed, a child she cherished as her own, still be her daughter after tonight?
Worrying but determined, she tossed on a work jacket and started toward the horse barn. Mucking stalls would take her mind off her troubles and work off some of the stress.
She was halfway across the wide lawn when a dark, fancy car pulled into the drive. She didn’t recognize it, but suspicion sprang up like weeds in spring.
Was this the same man Dakota had seen at the convenience store?
Shielding her eyes from the winter glare, she tried to see through the tinted glass, praying to be wrong, praying that the driver was lost and only wanted directions. It happened occasionally out here in the country.
A chill spread through her body. She tugged her coat closed and tied the belt, protecting what was hers and hers alone.
The hazy afternoon pulsed around her, too quiet, too empty. Even the hired hand had headed home for the night.
She was alone.
The car door opened. The metallic click sounded like a shot reverberating in the quiet.
AnnaLeigh jumped.
A bulky figure exited the driver’s seat. Not Alan, but before she could relax, he spoke. “AnnaLeigh.”
It wasn’t a question. He knew her name.
Her pulse picked up speed. She was alone, far from town and help. If he was who she feared he was, the best she could do was pray and bluff her way through the next few minutes.
The man strode toward her. She didn’t recognize him.
Please Lord, let me be wrong.
Mouth dry as baking soda, she said, “May I help you? Are you lost?”
He kept walking, expression empty.
A warning bell sounded in AnnaLeigh’s head. She took a step back.
The stranger followed. Too close. Into her personal space. “No, but you are.”
Though she wanted to appear unfazed, AnnaLeigh took another step backwards. “I don’t know you. What do you want?”
Cold, narrow eyes raked over her. “Alan sent me.”
Her breath left her body. She wanted to run, but her feet stuck to the ground. “Alan who? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
The man took hold of her arm. “Don’t play around, AnnaLeigh. Alan isn’t amused.”
She jerked at his grip. “Let go.”
Jesus, help. The prayer was weak. God probably wouldn’t even hear it.
The man’s fingers squeezed tighter. “Alan sends a message. Come home where you belong. All is forgiven.”
Right. As if she believed that. Alan wasn’t one to forgive and forget. Not until penance was paid.
But maybe this guy didn’t know Alan as well as she did. Maybe he was new, the low man on the payroll, sent to do Alan’s dirty work. Typical.
An idea popped into AnnaLeigh’s head. It wasn’t a great idea, but it was the only one she had.
“Does he really want me back?” She forced a lovelorn expression and, in a small, helpless voice, pleaded, “Really? Alan sent for me? He still loves me?”
“Sure he does, or I wouldn’t be here. You know how he is about his possessions.”
Possession. The word ran through her like ice water. A possession was all she’d ever been to Alan. Someone to own and control.
The need to gag pressed at the back of her throat, but AnnaLeigh knew her only chance to avoid being tossed over this man’s beefy shoulder and shoved into the back of his slick rental was to pretend to be in love with Alan and to want to go back to Colorado.
She wasn’t much of an actress. The ploy might not work, but what other choice did she have? The best she could hope for was that the man was as brainless as most of Alan’s thugs.
Keeping the whiny, helpless, dumb-blonde tone, she tilted her head and gave the stranger her most pitiful look. “I saw Alan flirting with another woman, and I thought he was tired of me. That’s why I left.”
One of the many reasons. Alan had never stopped flirting with other women. She didn’t even want to think about what else he might have done while claiming her as his “possession.”
The man stared at her for several long beats, considering her words. “Yeah?”
Good. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the kitchen. Maybe this would work.
“Why else would I leave a beautiful home and all the pretty things he buys me? If Alan loves me, I want to go home. I want to be with him.” She put an extra gush into the words. “He’s the love of my life!”
Forgive me, Lord.
“Good deal.” The man spun her toward the house. “Get your stuff and let’s go. We can catch a plane out tonight.”
“Wait, wait. No.”
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.
Think, AnnaLeigh, think.
Her gaze landed on her little white Fiesta. “What about my car?”
“Leave it. Alan can buy you another.”
“He’s sweet that way, but if I leave this car, my hus-friends will think something bad had happened to me, that I’d been kidnapped or murdered. I’m supposed to be picking up a friend’s child from school and babysitting today. If I don’t show up, they’ll call the police.”
More lies. She’d become too good at them.
But police was not a popular word. The henchman scowled. “You’re right. I’d better call Alan.”
He reached inside his coat.
She put a hand on his arm. “You don’t want to bother him. You know how he reacts to someone who can’t do the job he sent them to do.”
The man started to sweat.
She’d struck a nerve. Alan did not play nice with failures.
“I have a better idea,” she said. “You fly to Colorado. Tell Alan that I’m sorry for the misunderstanding and that I love him with all my heart. I’ll stay here only long enough to tell my friends I’ve decided to go home, and then tomorrow I’ll start early and drive there.”
With every word, AnnaLeigh prayed that the man was too dumb to see the holes in her idea.
“It’s a long drive.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Well…” He scratched at his head as he considered. “I guess that could work.” His bushy eyebrows formed one long unibrow. “You sure you ain’t pulling a fast one? Alan won’t like it if you run again. We’d both be in trouble.”
AnnaLeigh took the man’s arm and started walking him towards his rental. “You should get to the airport, and as soon as I tie up loose ends, I’ll follow. Tell Alan I’m coming home, and I can’t wait to see him.”
AnnaLeigh kept up a brainless chatter about her love for Alan and how wonderful he was to send someone for her until the man started his car and drove away.
Then, arms wrapped her shivering body, and terrified of the tangled web she’d woven, AnnaLeigh knew one thing for certain. Time had run out.
13
Holt pressed a foot to the gas pedal. The Ford F350 responded like a thoroughbred out of the gate. Fast. Too fast for the speed limit, but he was an excellent driver. Mostly, he was a husband eager to get home to his wife.
He was still wrapping his head around this new and enormous blessing. God had sent him the perfect woman to mother Jacey, but he’d also sent
the woman who could make him forget how much he despised marriage. AnnaLeigh. Sweet, lovely AnnaLeigh.
He chuckled lightly, recalling that he’d first thought she was plain to the point of ugly. AnnaLeigh, his wife, his love, was beautiful.
She’d felt guilty about breaking his ridiculous no-love rule. Afraid that he wouldn’t want her if she fell in love with him.
That was true in the beginning before he’d watched her nurture Jacey—and him. Before he felt her love in everything she did.
Now, his eyes were opened. He was a blessed man to be loved by AnnaLeigh.
The miles flew by in thoughts of this loving wife he wanted with all his heart.
The familiar red, blue, and white road sign flashed before his headlights. Refuge, Texas, population 8,673. Welcome home.
Home. To AnnaLeigh.
Almost there. A few more miles.
He slowed for the stoplight adjacent to Tractor Supply but didn’t give the business a fleeting glance.
His brain tumbled with visions of his wife.
He traversed the dark country roads, straining toward home with every bump and rut, as he shifted to a prayer of thanks.
When he reached the ranch’s driveway, the tall security light illuminated the yard and a golden glow penetrated the windows. The lights of home had never looked more welcoming. The hour was late. Nearing midnight. But his wife still waited up for him, and his daughter was already snug in bed, resting peacefully instead of sleeping in exhaustion in the backseat of his truck.
No one had waited up in years. His chest swelled, almost bursting from the pleasure.
He parked the truck, exited too fast and stumbled, caught himself and jogged to the front door. It opened.
There she stood. His wife. The woman he loved.
He stepped inside, taking her in his arms as he moved, and walking her backwards until he could kick the door shut with his boot.
His lips found hers. She made a whimpering sound, and he crushed her closer, drinking in her taste, her scent. Her tears.
Tears?
He leaned away, holding her loosely. She clung to him.
“Hey. I hope those are happy tears.”
The floodgates opened. Tears rolled down her face, and from the looks of her eyes, she’d been crying before his arrival.
Ten Rules for Marrying a Cowboy Page 16