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Lassoed

Page 2

by BJ Daniels


  Billie Rae wondered if she’d just jumped from the skillet into the fire. But there was something about this man that made her feel safe. It wasn’t just the kindness she saw in his brown eyes.

  There was a softness to his voice and his movements that belied his size and the strength she could see in his broad shoulders, muscled arms and callused hands.

  This was a man who did manual labor—not one who either sat behind a desk or rode around all day in a car.

  “I’m Tanner Chisholm,” he said and held out his hand.

  “Billie Rae Johnson.” She realized she’d given him her maiden name instead of her married one.

  “My brother Marshall is coming to pick us up in my truck, then we’ll go out to the ranch where my stepmother, Emma, will make you feel at home. She’ll insist you have something to eat. She does that to everyone. Humor her; it is much easier in the long run.” He smiled. “You’ll like Emma. Everyone does.”

  “I couldn’t possibly impose—”

  “Trust me, it is impossible to impose at the Chisholm ranch. If anything, Emma and my father, Hoyt, will want to adopt you.”

  She felt tears well and quickly brushed them away. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

  “I know you’re in trouble and I’m a sucker for a woman who needs my help,” he joked. “Seriously, whatever is going on, you need someplace to stay tonight at least and to give your husband a chance to calm down.”

  As if Duane was going to calm down, she thought with a grimace. All of this would have him foaming at the mouth with fury.

  “I assume you drove to the rodeo?”

  “A pickup. It’s out of gas. But—”

  “My brother and I will see to it tomorrow. It will be safe here tonight.”

  Maybe the truck would be safe but the brothers wouldn’t be if they came to fetch it tomorrow. Duane would be watching it and waiting.

  She had to stop this now. She knew Duane, knew what he would do to this cowboy. “You have to let me go,” she said as she reached for the doorknob again. “You don’t know my husband. He’ll come after you—”

  “I think I do know your husband,” Tanner said and gently touched her cheek under her left eye with his fingertips. She flinched, not because her bruised cheek still hurt, but because she’d forgotten about her healing black eye and now this kind cowboy knew her hidden shame.

  At the sound of a truck pulling up outside the building, Tanner said, “That will be Marshall.” He opened the door a crack and looked out as if checking to make sure the coast was clear. “I come from a large ranch family that sticks together. I have five brothers. Your husband isn’t going to take on the six of us, trust me.”

  Before she could argue, he quickly ushered her out to a large ranch truck. She noticed the sign printed on the side: Chisholm Cattle Company. Tanner opened the truck door, then taking her waist in both of his large hands, lifted her in before sliding into the bench seat next to her.

  “Marshall, meet Billie Rae. Billie Rae, my big brother Marshall.”

  The cowboy behind the wheel grinned. Like his brother, Marshall had dark hair and brown eyes reflecting his Native American ancestry. Both men were very handsome but there was also something kind and comforting in their faces.

  “I’d appreciate it if you got this truck moving,” Tanner said, glancing in his side mirror. He turned back to Billie Rae, plucked a cowboy hat from the gun rack behind her and dropped it onto her long, dark, curly hair.

  Marshall laughed. “So you got yourself into some kind of trouble and apparently involved this pretty little lady in the midst of it, huh?” He shook his head, but he got the truck moving.

  As they drove out the back way of the fairgrounds, Billie Rae stared through the windshield from under the brim of the hat, afraid she’d see Duane in the dispersing crowd. Or worse, Duane would see her—and the name of the ranch painted on the side of the truck.

  Chapter Two

  Duane Rasmussen leaned against his father’s pickup, arms crossed over his chest, his heart pounding with both anger and anticipation.

  The fairgrounds were still clearing out. His head hurt from searching the crowd and waiting to see Billie Rae’s contrite face.

  She would come crawling back, apologizing and saying how sorry she was. She’d be a lot sorrier when he got through with her. The thought kicked up his pulse to a nice familiar throb he could feel in his thick neck.

  As his daddy used to say, “A man who can’t control his woman is no man at all.”

  He used to think his old man was a mean SOB. But Duane hadn’t understood what his father had to contend with when it came to living with a woman. Sometimes just opening the door and seeing Billie Rae with that look on her face…

  Duane couldn’t describe it any other way than as a deer-in-the-headlights look. It made him want to wipe it off her face. He hated it when she acted as if she had to fear him.

  He had told her repeatedly that he loved her and that the only reason he had to get tough with her sometimes was because she made him mad. Or when she acted like she was walking around on eggshells, treating him as if she thought he might go off at any moment and slap her.

  Didn’t he realize how that would make him even angrier with her?

  Duane shook his head now. He’d never be able to understand his wife.

  Like this little trick she’d just pulled, taking off on him. What the hell was she thinking? She’d been so sweet and compliant when they were dating. She’d liked it when he took care of her, told her what was best for her, didn’t bother her with making any of the decisions.

  He couldn’t understand what had changed her. It was a mystery to him especially since he’d given the woman everything—she didn’t even have to work outside the home.

  He’d squashed all talk of her looking for a job after they’d moved. No wife of his was working. Every man knew that working outside the home ruined a woman. They got all kinds of strange ideas into their heads. Let a woman be too independent and you were just asking for trouble.

  With a curse, he saw that the parking area was almost empty. Only a few stragglers wandered out from the direction of the rodeo grandstands. The rodeo cowboys had loaded up their stock and taken off. The parking lot in the field next to the fairgrounds was empty.

  A sliver of worry burrowed under his skin. Where was Billie Rae? Still hiding in those trees to the west of the fairgrounds? The night air was cooling quickly. She wasn’t dressed for spending the night in the woods, not this far north in Montana.

  That was another thing that puzzled him, the way she’d taken off. She hadn’t planned this as far as he could tell. He’d found her purse and her house key. She hadn’t even taken a decent jacket, and it appeared she’d left with nothing more than the clothes on her back. How stupid was that?

  He settled in to wait. When she got cold and hungry she’d come back to the pickup. She’d know he would be waiting for her, so she’d come with her tail between her legs. He smiled at the thought. Of course Billie Rae would come back. Where else could she go?

  EMMA CHISHOLM TOOK ONE LOOK at the woman her stepson had brought home from the rodeo and recognized herself—thirty years ago. It gave her a start to have a reminder show up at her front door after all these years.

  All of it was too familiar, the terror in the young woman’s eyes, the fading bruises, the insecurity and indecision in her movements and the panic and pain etched in her face.

  The worst part, Emma knew, was the memory of the tearful promises that would be forgotten in an instant the next time. But it was those tender moments that gave every battered woman hope that this time, her lover really would never do it again. They called it the honeymoon period. It came right before the next beating—and that beating was always worse than the one before.

  It made her heart ache just to look at the woman. A part of Emma wanted to distance herself, deny that she had been this young woman, but if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that
all things circled back at you for a reason.

  “This is Billie Rae Johnson,” Tanner said. “Her car broke down at the rodeo. I told her we had plenty of room and that we’d get her fixed up in the morning.”

  Emma smiled and held out her hand to the young woman. “I’m Emma. We are delighted to have you stay with us as long as you’d like.” Her gaze shifted to Tanner.

  He’d never been one to exaggerate or lie, but she didn’t believe his story for a moment. Billie Rae was on the run. Emma knew the look, remembered it only too well. Her heart went out to Billie Rae.

  “I don’t want to be an imposition.” Billie Rae was a beauty, but Emma knew that her stepson had seen beyond that. Tanner was like his father, who brought home those in need. Was that one reason Hoyt had fallen in love with her? Because he’d seen the need in Emma herself?

  “I promise you it is no imposition,” Emma said. “I love having guests, especially female ones. I’m so outnumbered around here.”

  “Thank you,” Billie Rae said. She looked exhausted. No doubt she’d been running on adrenaline and fear for hours and was about to crash.

  “Why don’t I show you up to one of our many guest rooms?” Emma said quickly. “Since all six of the boys have their own places now, we have more empty bedrooms than you can shake a stick at. Then I’ll get you a snack. It always helps me sleep.”

  Billie Rae glanced at Tanner, who smiled and nodded, then she followed Emma without a word.

  “You have this whole wing to yourself,” Emma said when they reached one of the rooms that was always made up for guests. “So please, make yourself at home and if there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I won’t be here more than tonight.”

  Emma smiled. “Get some rest. Sometimes it takes more than a night. You are welcome to stay as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

  Billie Rae nodded, tears coming to her eyes. “You’re very kind.”

  “No, I’ve been where you are right now.” Admitting it was easier than she’d thought it would be.

  For a moment, the young woman looked as if she was going to deny it or pretend she didn’t know what Emma was talking about.

  “I was with a man who kicked the hell out of me on a regular basis,” Emma said, surprised how easily too the anger came back. “Oh sure, he was always sorry. It was for my own good. He loved me. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t for my own good, just as it wasn’t my fault and that nothing I did or could do would change him. He didn’t love me. He didn’t know what love was.”

  Tears spilled over Billie Rae’s cheeks. “I’m just so embarrassed.”

  Emma took her hand and they sat down on the edge of the bed. “Embarrassed? Oh, sweetie, you have done nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “I married the wrong man. He…fooled me.”

  She nodded. “But you got smart and left him.”

  “He told me he’ll kill me and I don’t doubt it,” Billie Rae said, brushing angrily at her tears.

  Emma shook her head. “He isn’t going to find you here. Tomorrow you can decide what to do next.”

  “You don’t know Duane. I’m afraid he’ll find out that you all helped me and do something terrible to you.”

  “Honey, that’s why there’s a shotgun in this house. Trust Tanner. He’s a good man.” She studied the young woman for a moment. “I don’t know if you believe in fate or not, but I can tell you this. Tanner finding you and bringing you here was no accident.”

  AS DUANE SAT IN THE empty fairgrounds in the dark, he knew where he’d made his mistake. If he’d gotten Billie Rae pregnant right away, none of this would be happening. But instead he’d listened to his wife, who’d wanted to wait until they were “settled in as a couple,” as she called it.

  With a surge of angry resentment, he realized she just wanted to make sure the marriage was to her liking. That he was to her liking.

  Duane swore under his breath. Wait until he got his hands on her. He’d show her. She would never pull a stunt like this again. He’d kill her if she did. That was if he didn’t end up killing her this time. He flushed, embarrassed to be put in this position, as the scent of fried food still drifted on the breeze coming through the open window of his Lincoln.

  The last of the lights of the rodeo vehicles had dimmed away to darkness in the distance, all headed west. From the faint glow on the horizon, Duane figured the closest Montana town had to be up the highway. He was hungry and tired and even his anger couldn’t keep him going much longer.

  Duane looked around. It was just his car now and his father’s pickup.

  Where the hell was Billie Rae?

  He waited until the night air cooled to a chill before he put up his car window, started the engine and drove down to park by the pickup. Billie Rae would be coming back soon and he didn’t want to miss her.

  A thought struck him like a blow. Unless she’d left with someone.

  That cowboy he’d seen her with?

  He couldn’t get his mind around that. But then he’d thought he’d made it clear to Billie Rae what would happen to her if she ever tried to leave him—or to anyone who helped her. She’d made a friend who thought she could come between them. That friend was no longer anywhere around, now, was she?

  Duane had thought Billie Rae had learned her lesson that time. But apparently that hadn’t stopped her from “befriending” someone else who thought they could interfere in his marriage to her.

  None of this was like Billie Rae, he thought as the hours wore on, and he felt an uncertainty that rattled him. For the first time, he wasn’t sure he knew his wife as well as he thought he did.

  AFTER HER TALK WITH Emma Chisholm, Billie Rae showered, slipped into the cotton nightgown left for her on the huge bed and slid between the sheets that smelled like fresh air.

  Emma had also left her a glass of milk and a plate of sliced homemade banana bread. Billie Rae had eaten all of it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was or that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

  For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she could breathe as she got up to brush her teeth with the new toothbrush Emma had set out for her. The cool night air blew in through the open window next to her bed as she crawled back under the covers. The breeze billowed the sheer white curtains. She could see the outline of mountains in the distance, smell sage and hay beyond the fresh clean scent of the line-dried linens on the bed.

  But it was the sweet scent of freedom that she gulped in as if she was a drowning woman finally coming up for air. She was still half-afraid to believe it, but lying here in this house, she was filled with a sense of peace like none she had felt since she’d married Duane.

  Don’t rest too easy. I’m still out here looking for you. And when I find you—

  She took another deep breath, chasing away the sound of Duane’s voice. Like Scarlett O’Hara, she wouldn’t think about tomorrow. For tonight, she was alive and safe, and that was more than she had hoped for.

  At a tap at her door, she said, “Come in,” thinking it would be Emma.

  “I just wanted to check on you and make sure you have everything you need,” Tanner said, peeking around the door.

  “I’m fine.” More than fine. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said. “I’ll be just down the hall.”

  She couldn’t help her surprise. Emma said that all the Chisholm sons had their own places now. “I thought—”

  “I decided to stay here tonight.” He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “In case you…”

  “Needed anything,” she finished for him, smiling.

  “Good night, then,” he said and closed the door.

  Billie Rae lay in the bed still smiling, remembering what Emma had said. Trust Tanner. She did. She closed her eyes, dead tired, aching for sleep, but quickly opened them as Duane’s image appeared as if waiting to taunt her in a nightmare.

  Trust Tanner? Do you re
ally think that cowboy or his whole damned family can save you?

  She touched her diamond engagement ring in the darkness, the thick band of white gold next to it a reminder of who she was. Mrs. Duane Rasmussen, as if she could forget it.

  Were you listening to that preacher? Till death do us part, Billie Rae. And that, sweetheart, is the way it is going to be, come hell or high water. You understand me, or am I going to have to refresh your memory?

  As she spun the band in a circle, she thought about what Emma had said about fate. Did she believe in fate? Tanner had saved her tonight, he’d brought her to this house, to his stepmother, Emma, who had known instinctively what Billie Rae was going through.

  Maybe fate had brought her together with this family tonight, but Billie Rae knew she had to run again come morning.

  Slowly she took off the rings to set them on the bedside table. The diamond winked at her in the light of the star-filled night coming in through the sheer, billowing curtains.

  You really think it’s that easy to be rid of me?

  She got up, stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do with the rings. Her first impulse was to throw them away, but common sense won out. The rings were worth money and she was going to need some if she hoped to stay free of Duane. She put them in the pocket of her slacks.

  As she climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers up, she felt stronger than she had since she married Duane. It had been fate that she’d met Tanner Chisholm and that he’d brought her to this house. She’d been ready to give up and go back to Duane, believing she had no choice.

  But now she felt as if she could do this. She would do this. She had let Duane Rasmussen bully her for too long.

  This time when she closed her eyes she pictured Tanner Chisholm’s face. But she didn’t kid herself that Duane wouldn’t be nearby waiting to ruin her sleep.

  TANNER WOKE TO SCREAMING. He bolted upright in bed, confused for a moment where he was. As everything came back in a rush, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his jeans and ran barefoot down the hall.

 

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