by C. C. Coburn
Dragging herself away from the window, she returned to her bedroom and crawled beneath the covers. Closing her eyes to shut out the image of Matt, she concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply, until sleep eventually claimed her.
MATT STRAIGHTENED at the sound of Lucy’s Jeep roaring up the drive. His back was killing him. So were his hands. The calluses were raw. He stacked the last of the split wood and went to open her door.
“Hi.” She offered her cheek for his kiss. “How’s my patient?”
“The one in there—” he indicated the cabin “—is doing fine. I’m not so sure about me, though.”
Her brow puckered. “What’s up?”
He turned his hands over.
Lucy tsk-tsked. “I diagnose you’ve been splitting too much wood.” She wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a man who’s been working too hard. Go on in the house and take a shower, and afterward I’ll give you some salve for your hands.”
Lucy had a point. Beth wouldn’t find anything desirable about a man covered in sweat and wood chips. “Thanks. I can always rely on you to bring me back down to earth. Beth’s in her room,” he said, following her into the cabin.
He detoured to the bathroom, undressed and stepped under the shower, cursing the prickling cold spray. He adjusted the temperature to something resembling lukewarm and reached for the soap.
“BETH’S DOING GREAT,” Lucy reported when he returned to the kitchen. “So’s Sarah.” She paused and looked up at him. “You’re doing a great job caring for them. You’re good for them, Matt. I hope you intend to become a permanent part of their lives.”
She took his hands and rubbed the salve into them. “They need you every bit as much as you need them even if it’s for different reasons.”
Back in high school, Lucy had fancied herself an amateur psychologist and matchmaker. Nothing had changed. “I’d like to believe what you’re saying,” he said slowly.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Matt. Don’t keep blaming yourself about the baby and Sally. I’ve got a feeling that this might be your chance to put all of that behind you.” She screwed the cap back onto the salve.
Matt couldn’t keep from sharing his doubts with her. “Once Beth’s well enough, she’ll leave. She’s running from something, or someone, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“She hasn’t told you any more about herself?”
He shook his head. “She’s been too sick for me to question her. And besides, right now I’m not here in my capacity as county sheriff. I’m here as—” He paused. In what capacity was he here? Protector? Friend? Potential lover?
No, not lover. Though he’d like to be. He turned away from Lucy in case she could guess his thoughts. “Have you told anyone where I am? Or where Beth is?”
“Not a soul. As far as everyone’s concerned, you’ve gone out of town for a few days. That goes for the people at work, too, of course.” She picked up her bag and moved toward the door.
Matt followed her out. It was getting dark already and snow had started falling in the past half hour, obscuring the sunset.
“I’ve brought a baby car seat for you to use in case you need to go anywhere.” She opened her rear door and Matt retrieved it.
“Thanks. I was thinking Beth might like to go for a drive sometime, or I could bring her down to you if she needs to see you again. That’d save you coming all the way up here.”
Lucy climbed in, started the Jeep and lowered the window. “Give those calluses a rest,” she warned. “Judging by the pile you’ve split since yesterday, I’d say there’s enough wood to last a few years,” she added drily.
She was poking fun at him but he let it ride. “Call me when you get home, okay?”
“Sure.” She hesitated before asking, “I take it there’s a good reason you don’t want anyone knowing where you are?”
He could read the concern in her eyes, the questions she wanted to ask. But until he had some answers of his own, he couldn’t answer hers. “For the time being.”
“Take care, Matt. Beth’s over the worst of it and Sarah’s thriving. Call if you need me, okay?”
He watched her drive out the gate and turn left onto the road to town. Then he got an armful of wood and went inside to stack it by the fireplace.
Ten minutes later, his phone rang. He’d left it out in the living room. He snatched it up and glanced at the caller ID. “Hi, Lucy. Did you get back okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Great. Well, I’ll call if Beth needs to see you.”
“Okay, but, Matt…be careful. Bye now.”
Matt stared at the phone, wondering about Lucy’s cryptic remark.
He had no intention of hurting Beth. She’d been hurt enough by someone else. But one way or another, tonight he intended to get the truth out of her.
He made some calls, checking in with work, going outside so he wouldn’t disturb Beth.
When he ventured back inside, he found her sitting up in bed, nursing Sarah.
Embarrassed at having walked in on so private a moment, he was about to do an about-face and leave when he heard Beth whisper, “Please stay, Matt. We need to talk.” She patted the bedcovers. “You don’t mind if I nurse her while you’re here, do you?”
Matt didn’t have an answer; his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. All he could manage was a shake of his head. He sat on the end of the bed, careful to keep a safe distance between them.
Beth held Sarah over her shoulder and rubbed her back. “That’s my good girl,” she said and kissed her cheek before opening her gown to let the baby suckle her other breast.
Matt’s mouth was dry. He wanted to be part of this, he ached for it. The whole thing. It wasn’t just sexual intimacy he craved; he wanted to be a husband to Beth and a father to Sarah. Wanted them to be his family.
Where were these crazy ideas coming from? Would allowing himself to believe he meant anything to Beth—that they could have a future together—absolve him of his guilt?
Beth’s shoulders sagged as she looked at her daughter and said, “She’s so tiny and helpless, and when I think of what might’ve happened to her if you hadn’t found us—”
“Don’t!” Matt said harshly, unwilling to confront his fears. “Don’t think about it.” He sat on the side of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face, then flinched when he felt her hand on his back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Thinking about it…tears me apart. Why did you do it?” he demanded. “Why did you run out on me?”
Beth closed her eyes.
“Don’t shut me out,” he growled. “Don’t think you can shut me out by closing your eyes.”
She opened them and fixed him with her gray-eyed gaze. “Would you mind putting Sarah in her crib, please, Matt? We need to talk.”
He carried Sarah to her room and settled her in her crib. In such a short time, she’d become so precious to him that he couldn’t imagine his life without her—without either of them. He switched off the light and returned to Beth’s room.
“I’ve been a patient man,” he said. “Now it’s time for you to tell me the truth, starting with your real name, Elizabeth Whitman-Wyatt.”
Chapter Ten
“H-how do you know that?”
“I ran a make on your license plates.”
Her face was ashen. “Why? Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice shrill with tension.
“Is there some reason I shouldn’t have?” He forced down the bitter taste of anger and disappointment. She was going to lie to him again. He’d been prepared to protect her to the point of sacrificing his career. How could you let her bewitch you like this?
Matt fought to keep his voice low and in control, when everything in him screamed to demand what she was up to. “Imagine my surprise when your grandmother answered the phone.”
HE’D RUN A CHECK on her license plates and discovered her grandmother! It’d be there in the police computers for anyo
ne to see. Someone in Spruce Lake, Colorado, was looking for her. She couldn’t catch her breath. If Matt had found her so easily, they could, too!
Fear for her daughter overwhelmed her. “Oh, my God!” She threw aside the covers and went to stand, but Matt pulled her back down to sit beside him.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“No! You don’t understand. I’ve got to get Sarah. We have to get out of here!”
“Calm down!” he shouted, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms about her, as if trying to cocoon her from harm. “No one’s going to hurt either you or Sarah. Not while you’re with me. I promised to keep you both safe.”
Safe! That was a joke. “There was no reason to run a trace on my plates! You told me there wouldn’t be any charges, considering the circumstances.” She continued to struggle, needing to get her daughter and escape. “There was every reason I should look for you. Starting with…why did you list me as Sarah’s father on the birth registration documents?”
The strength to fight left her body at his revelation. He knew! She’d sealed the papers in an official envelope and foolishly assumed it wouldn’t be opened until it got to a government department in Denver. “H-how did you find out about that?”
“The hospital administrator told me. I think I have a right to know why you said I was Sarah’s father, when we’re both perfectly aware that I’m not.”
Beth didn’t want to put Matt in danger. Telling him the truth would do just that.
“I can’t. Please leave it at that. I have to go. And I don’t want you following me.”
Again she tried to get up and again Matt pulled her down. “I’ve had enough of you running out on me. If nothing else, you’re going to tell me why you named me on those documents, instead of your husband.”
She flinched at his harsh command. Matt was right; he deserved an explanation. “Okay, but you’re not going to like it,” she warned. “I couldn’t put my husband’s name because I’d discovered Marcus was a dirty cop. He was shot four months ago by another policeman.”
NO WONDER SHE’D BEEN so wary of him from the start. He knew her husband was a cop. But was she saying the shooting wasn’t accidental?
“You’d better tell me the whole story—from the beginning.”
Beth raised pleading eyes to his, and he detected the unshed tears she was trying to contain. “You don’t know them. They won’t give up until they’ve found me! Please, please let me go.”
Matt tightened his grip on her. “Who is looking for you? Who could possibly want to hurt you?”
“I can’t tell you! They’d kill us all.”
Feeling as though the air had been punched from his lungs, he loosened his grip on her. Kill? Just what kind of trouble was she in?
Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, Beth managed to shuffle away from him toward the headboard and sat with her arms protectively around her knees.
She seemed so forlorn, so scared. He reached out to clasp her hands. They were icy. She stared wide-eyed at the door as though expecting someone to come in at any moment. Either that, or she was thinking of other ways of escape.
“Look at me,” he urged, his voice gentle with compassion.
Beth tore her gaze from the doorway and focused on him.
When he knew he had her attention, he said, “I made a promise to you and I never break my promises. I will protect you with my life, but to do so, I need to know the truth. All of it.” He drew her into his arms and held her against his heart.
He waited, breath held, praying she wouldn’t feed him any more lies.
Finally her shoulders relaxed. “I’ve tried so hard to keep us safe,” she whispered, then pulled back and looked up at him. “You’re not going to like what you hear,” she warned.
“As long as it’s the truth, I can deal with it.”
She took a deep breath and launched into her explanation. “Marcus—my husband—was working undercover. He was shot during a drug bust.
“I thought it was an accident—or that’s what I was led to believe, that he’d been mistaken for one of the gang they were after. The LAPD gave him a full police funeral. But when his former partner and another cop broke into my house and threatened me later that night, I realized it wasn’t an accident.”
What Beth was telling him was so far from what he’d expected her to say. His suspicions raised about the APB, he asked, “What’s his partner’s name?”
She frowned up at him, as though gauging whether it was safe to admit the truth. “Detective John Hennessey.”
Hennessey! The contact name on the APB. So, his skepticism about its contents was correct.
“They thought I knew where Marcus had hidden their cache of drugs from a big bust and a great deal of money, too.” She paused, shaking her head. “My husband was a dirty cop. We were married for five years and I had no idea.”
“I don’t understand why you believed so easily he was corrupt? Just on their say-so?” Surely she wasn’t that gullible.
When Beth explained how she’d found the key and used it at the bank—and told him about the money she’d discovered in the safety-deposit box—Matt conceded that it did indeed look as if her husband was a crooked cop.
“Hennessey wanted the key. I pretended I didn’t know anything about it. They trashed my house and told me if I reported them, they’d kill me…and my baby.” She took a deep breath. “I did the only thing I could. I ran. And up until now, I was safe here in Colorado.”
Until he’d done a trace on her license. Matt cursed himself, wishing he could take it all back.
“Why Colorado? Why here in Colorado?”
“I came here on a ski trip during college. I liked the town. It felt safe, secluded from the outside world. I thought as I was driving east…” She paused. “I didn’t know where I was headed when I left L.A. I only knew I needed to get out of there and fast. In Arizona, I saw a news report that I’d gone missing. Fortunately I was wearing a wig and no makeup, so the picture they showed on the TV news didn’t bear much resemblance to how I looked. I had to get away from the interstate, so I took back roads going north and ended up in Colorado. That night while I was scanning the map, searching for where to drive next, I saw Spruce Lake and remembered how much I’d liked it. I decided to come here, get a room for the night, see if I felt the same way about it.”
“And you did?”
She nodded. “I saw an ad at the supermarket for a place that sounded perfect. I met the owner here, loved the cabin’s charm and seclusion. When he said he could provide a grocery delivery service at a small additional charge, I was sold.”
She frowned as something occurred to her. “I’ve never asked, but how did you find me here?”
“I went to Hank’s, intending to look through your car for any clues as to where you might’ve gone. Hank told me.”
“He sold me out?”
“Not without a bit of persuasion, mostly pertaining to his tax records.”
She snorted with contempt. “I told him I was an author and needed complete privacy to finish my manuscript and offered him ten thousand dollars to keep my whereabouts a secret. Needless to say, he won’t be getting his ‘bonus’ now.”
“If he sold you out for a lousy ten grand, that might be an indication of how much more he isn’t reporting to the IRS.” But this was only part of the picture and Matt needed to know more. “Tell me, how does your grandmother fit into all this?”
“Have you spoken to Gran?” she demanded, the fear returning to her voice. “How is she?”
“I don’t know. She told me never to call again before hanging up.”
“Oh, my God! Don’t you get it? They’ve tapped her phone!” She struggled out of his arms again, but Matt brought her back.
“Calm down,” he said. “If you’d been honest with me in the first place, I could’ve protected you from the start.”
“How could I trust you? I couldn’t trust my own husband!”
“D
o you trust me now?”
“You traced the car to my grandmother. Her life could be in danger right now!” she yelled, slapping at him, trying to escape.
Matt tightened his grip and said calmly, “Granted, but if they were recording her phone calls, they’d realize she knew nothing other than that the sheriff of Peaks County, Colorado, had called her. What’s more concerning is that I did a trace on Elizabeth Wyatt and found you. According to the APB, you’re wanted for drug possession and felony theft.”
The color drained from her face. “Please, take Sarah, keep her safe!” she cried and slipped out of his arms.
“Whoa, there!” Matt caught her at the door. “You’re not going anywhere without me. If Hennessey’s responsible for your husband’s death, then he’ll be brought to justice.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! This isn’t a beat cop from some backwater in Colorado. Hennessey is a hardened big-city cop who knows all the tricks. Don’t even think about going to Internal Affairs! Who knows how far his talons reach? He could even have judges on his payroll.”
Matt conceded it would be more difficult to implicate Hennessey if that was the case, but there had to be a way, one that would ensure Beth’s safety. “I need to ask—how did you support yourself all these months?”
“Since Hennessey had cops posted in the lobby of my building, I couldn’t withdraw anything from the ATM there, so on my way out of L.A. I stopped at the bank and took as much money as I could out of the safety-deposit box. There must be hundreds of thousands still in there.”
Matt whistled softly. “Okay, go back to what happened after Hennessey left your house.”
Beth bit her lip as though contemplating whether it was worth it. Then she started talking.
A HALF HOUR LATER, Matt was satisfied that he understood everything. He was shocked by the stress Beth had borne all this time.