by BJ Daniels
His conscious mind told him it was impossible that Billie Rae’s husband had found her here. That there was no way the man could be in the house. Worse, that he could have found the bedroom where she slept and—
He shoved open the door. Faint light shone through the sheer curtains at the large window next to her bed. A shaft of light from the hallway shot across the floor, making a path into the room. Tanner felt his heart break at the sounds coming from the bed. He rushed to Billie Rae.
She came out of the dream swinging her arms wildly. He didn’t have to guess who she was trying to fight off.
“It’s me, Billie Rae. Tanner. Tanner Chisholm.”
Her eyes were wild with panic. She blinked at the sound of his voice and slowly focused on his face in the dim light before bursting into tears.
“You had a bad dream, but you’re all right,” he said as he sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. As he stroked her hair, he whispered, “It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re all right.”
She clung to him, sobbing, her breathing ragged. He could feel her damp cotton nightgown against his bare chest. She was shivering uncontrollably from the cold, from whatever horror still clung to her from the nightmare.
He held her close, continuing to stroke her hair and whisper words of comfort while all the time he wanted to kill the man who’d hurt this woman.
“Your nightgown is damp with sweat,” he said after her breathing became more normal. Shadows played on the walls, the breeze whipped the sheer curtains and outside the window, a branch scraped against the house.
As he started to pull away, she cried, “Please, don’t leave me.”
“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get you something warm and dry to sleep in.” He hurried to his room, rummaged through a drawer where he’d left some of his old clothing. He found a large soft-worn T-shirt and hurried back to Billie Rae’s room.
She was sitting up in the bed, clutching the covers to her chest. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her again. “Here, take off the nightgown and put this on.” He turned his back. He heard her behind him struggling to get out of the damp nightgown and knew she was still trembling from her nightmare.
What had her husband done to her to make her so frightened? He recalled what he’d heard the man say outside the door at the fairgrounds. But he’d thought them merely angry words. It wasn’t until he’d seen the bruised area around Billie Rae’s eye that he’d realized why she was so afraid of her husband.
Now he heard her pull on the T-shirt and lay back against the headboard.
He turned to look at her, jolted again by that strong emotion he’d felt under the lights of the exploding fireworks. Her face was lovely in the faint starlight. He couldn’t imagine her ever looking more beautiful or desirable. Or vulnerable.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asked, starting to get to his feet, knowing what could happen if he stayed.
Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He slowly sat back down.
There was a pleading in her brown eyes, along with flecks of gold.
“You want me to stay?”
She swallowed and he could see the battle going on inside her reflected in those big eyes. As he looked down, he saw that she’d taken off her wedding rings. There was a wide white mark where they had been.
He raised his gaze to her eyes again. “Slide over. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”
He saw relief, gratitude and something he didn’t dare think about too long in those eyes.
She slid over and he lay down next to her. She moved closer as if desperately needing to know he was still there. He put his arms around her and drew her to him. She fit against him perfectly. He nestled his head against the pillow of her dark, luxurious hair and breathed in her scent. She smelled of soap and summer. He closed his eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart in sync with hers.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I—”
“Shh,” he whispered. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
BILLIE RAE WOKE IN THE wee hours of the morning from a wonderful dream. She lay very still, keeping her eyes closed as she tried to get back into the dream. But it stayed just out of reach, slipping further away, and she finally opened her eyes.
She thought she was at home, so when the horrible dread she always woke with settled over her, she closed her eyes again, pleading silently for the dream and the man in it who had made her feel so loved. Like in the dream, the arms around her didn’t hold her as tightly as Duane’s did. Tanner held her gently, not as if he feared she would get away, but more like he wanted to keep her safe.
With a start, she came fully awake. She had gotten away from Duane.
Tanner shifted in his sleep and for a moment she feared he would let her go. She had never met anyone like him. She hadn’t dated all that much before she met Duane. In college, she’d had to get good grades to keep her scholarships and still help her mother, who had by then been diagnosed with cancer, so she’d had no time for a social life.
She’d never been held this tenderly, never felt this safe and secure, never felt…the emotions she was experiencing at this moment—not even the first time she’d gone to bed with Duane. He’d been disappointed she wasn’t a virgin and that had spoiled their lovemaking for both of them. After that, he was always much rougher as if he was punishing her for losing her virginity to the boy she’d dated all through high school and thought she was in love with.
Scott had been a nice boy, but just that—a boy. After high school, they’d gone to different colleges. They’d stayed in touch for a while, but had grown apart. Billie Rae had been thankful for that since she’d known by then that Scott wasn’t the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
She’d met Duane right after her mother died. Looking back, she saw that he had taken advantage of the vulnerable state she’d been in. She’d needed someone to lean on and Duane had made sure he was there, taking over her life, running it.
The problem was that when she no longer needed him in that way or wanted him to run her life, it was too late. By then, she’d needed and wanted something different from him. But Duane wasn’t a giving, loving man. Nor was he going to let her go. He’d whisked her off to Vegas for a quickie marriage, selling it as romantic.
Hadn’t she known that night, standing in a gaudy wedding chapel on the strip in front of a justice of the peace and his wife, that she was making a mistake? She remembered feeling as if she might faint. Duane had told her she just needed food and that he would feed her right after the ceremony.
Instead, they’d flown straight home as the sun came up and he’d sprung the news on her. They were moving to North Dakota.
Tanner shifted again in his sleep. Billie Rae held her breath, afraid he would awaken and leave her. A part of the dream returned, startling her because there was no doubt that the man in it had been Tanner Chisholm.
She sensed him coming awake and turned in his arms to face him. It was still dark out. In the faint starlight, she could see his bare chest, a light sprinkling of dark hair that formed a V disappear into the waistband of his jeans.
She met his gaze and felt a bubble form in her chest. Her heart began to beat faster.
He started to pull away, but she cupped his jaw and he froze. “Billie Rae—”
Her thumb moved to his lips and she shook her head, her gaze holding his. She hadn’t felt desire in a long time. It felt raw and powerful and urgent. Under normal circumstances she would have never acted upon it with a man she hardly knew.
She brushed a lock of dark hair back from Tanner’s wonderful face, feeling as if she knew him soul-deep. Her fingers tingled at the touch. By the time the sun set tomorrow there was a good chance Duane would have caught up with her and, if not killed her, definitely hurt her.
There were some things she couldn’t live with. Duane was one of them. The other was not acting on what she was feeling at this moment, kn
owing it might be her last day alive.
Slowly, she leaned toward Tanner and brushed a kiss over his lips. Her pulse thundered in her ears as he gently drew her to him. His kiss was light as the summer breeze coming through the window. His hands came up to cup her face in his warm, callused palms.
Desire burned through her veins like a runaway train on a downhill track. As the kiss deepened, his fingers burrowed into her wild mane of hair. She shoved back the covers, needing to feel the warmth of his body against her, desperate for his human touch after months of flinching whenever Duane reached for her.
Tanner drew her to him, rolling over on his back and pulling her on top of him. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.
She kissed him, sat up and then grabbing the hem of the large T-shirt, she pulled it up over her head and tossed it away. She heard Tanner moan, and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his thumbs gently teasing her nipples, which were already hard as marbles.
He drew her down again, kissing her softly. She rolled off him and wriggled out of her panties, desperately needing to feel his warm flesh against hers. She heard him slip out of his jeans and then he was pulling her into his arms. He brushed a tendril of hair back from her cheek.
Their eyes locked as he slowly and sweetly began to make love to her.
Chapter Three
Duane woke in his car, cramped and out of sorts. He couldn’t believe he’d had to spend the entire night in a fairgrounds parking lot in the middle of nowhere.
As he climbed out, he looked into the front seat of his father’s classic pickup, expecting to see Billie Rae curled up there. He’d been so sure she would return, probably with some cowboy with a can of gas for the pickup and some romantic ideas for her.
But he hadn’t heard a sound all night and the pickup front seat was empty. No Billie Rae. With a curse, Duane realized he was going to have to call his boss and ask for some time off.
As for his wife, he didn’t know what to do. First, he supposed, he would search for her himself. Someone had to have seen her. If that failed… Well, he might have to contact a couple of associates he’d met through his work. The nice thing about his job was that he met people who could and would do things for him that he’d rather not do himself. A little pressure here, a little pressure there, and people knew better than to say no to him.
He pulled out his cell phone, swearing under his breath as he punched in the number and asked for his boss. The last thing he’d do was admit the truth. He didn’t want anyone to know what the bitch had done, how she’d made him look like a fool, let alone that he couldn’t handle his own wife. He’d never live it down if his buddies found out about this. Other men lost respect for a man whose wife ran off on him.
No, he would take care of this himself and no one back home would be the wiser. That is, as long as he found Billie Rae fast. And one way or the other, he’d have to convince her never to pull something like this again. Either that or his lovely wife would end up dead, a terrible accident that would leave him a grieving widower—and free to find him a wife who knew her place.
He came up with a lame excuse, but his boss seemed to buy it. As he hung up, he told himself it was now time to deal with the mess Billie Rae had made. Walking around to the driver’s side, Duane unlocked the pickup with his key and stared into it for a long moment, thinking about Billie Rae taking it. The truck had been his father’s, purchased new almost fifty years before. His old man had loved this pickup and cared for it like a baby.
Hell, Duane had never even gotten to drive it until the old man died. His mother had been the one to give it to him—had his father known he was going to fall over dead with a heart attack he would have made other arrangements for his beloved classic pickup.
But Duane’s mother hated the truck and resented the time and money and care the old man had put into it. She’d given it to Duane out of spite, knowing his father was now rolling over in his grave to think that his son had the truck. Which made Duane even angrier that Billie Rae had the impudence to take it. The woman must be crazy. No one drove this pickup but him.
As he slid behind the wheel, he saw that she’d left the key in the ignition and swore. Her lack of respect… He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.
He reached to turn the key and saw that it was the spare he kept locked up. She’d broken into his desk? He hadn’t even been aware she knew where he kept the spare key.
Duane felt that strange chill creep over him again. Billie Rae had been watching him, paying more attention than he’d thought.
He turned the key. The engine refused to turn over. That’s when he saw the gas gauge. She’d run out of gas. That’s why she’d stopped here.
The tap on his side window startled him. For an instant, he’d expected to see Billie Rae standing there instead of some old guy in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap.
“Trouble getting her started?” the old man asked.
Duane realized the man must be the caretaker in charge of the fairgrounds. He hadn’t heard him drive up. Duane climbed out, pocketing the truck key. “The wife. She didn’t check the gas gauge before she headed to the rodeo.”
The old man laughed and shook his head. “I’m surprised you let her drive this. A 1962 Chevy Fleetside Shortbed with a Vortec 350, right?”
Duane nodded as he watched the caretaker run his hand over the hood. His old man had to be turning flips in his casket. He’d never let anyone touch his truck.
“You don’t happen to have a few gallons of gas I could buy from you to get her into town, do you?” Duane asked.
“I haven’t seen her around town,” the man said frowning, still talking about the pickup. “You new to Whitehorse?”
So Whitehorse must be the closest town. “You could say that. If I had a hose, I could siphon some gas out of my car,” Duane said impatiently.
“No need for that. I keep some extra gas for the lawnmower.”
Duane followed the man back to a shed, waited while he unlocked the padlock on the door and went inside, returning with a small gas can that felt about half full.
“I’ll bring this right back,” he said, hoping the man wouldn’t come with him. He hurried off, returning shortly, and handed the man the gas can and a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks for your help.” He had a thought. “Hey, is there any chance I could leave the pickup in one of your barns out here. My wife is tied up and I need to get back to her. I can’t come back to get the truck for a while.”
“No problem. You can just pull it in that one,” the old man said pointing at the closest barn. “It will be plenty safe there until you can pick her up.”
“Great,” he started to turn away telling himself he had no choice since he couldn’t drive two vehicles and who knew when he’d find Billie Rae. Nor did he want anyone else driving the truck.
“You’re going to have to teach your wife to watch that gas gauge,” the old man called after him with a chuckle.
He was going to have to teach his wife a lot of things when he found her.
“GOOD MORNING,” BILLIE RAE said shyly from the kitchen doorway.
Tanner looked up. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of coffee with Emma, who’d been chastising him.
He knew she was right. He’d fallen for a woman who was not just married—but in a very vulnerable state right now. He should have known better than to get more involved with her for not just his sake but hers as well.
When he met her gaze now, he was afraid he would see regret in her eyes. The morning light brought out the gold flecks in those eyes. With relief, he saw that they were free of regret. Their eyes locked and, after a moment, a slight flush came to her cheeks before she looked away.
They’d made love and fallen back to sleep in each other’s arms. When he’d awakened this morning, she’d looked so beautiful and so serene lying there, he hadn’t wanted to wake her.
He looked down into his coffee cup now, checking his expression as he felt Emma’s watchful g
aze on him. She’d already given him hell, telling him that she couldn’t bear to see him get his heart broken and Billie Rae wasn’t ready for another relationship.
“Sleep well?” Emma asked smiling as she handed Billie Rae a mug of coffee.
“Yes, thank you,” Billie Rae said dropping her gaze and blushing as she took the mug and sat down in a chair across from Tanner.
Tanner smiled across the table at her. She looked a hundred percent better than she had last night at the rodeo. There was no longer that deer-in-the-head-lights look in her eyes. Her long dark hair was still damp from her shower. He caught a whiff of her now too-familiar scent. She smelled heavenly. He couldn’t help but think about their lovemaking and wish he had awakened her this morning.
Emma refilled his coffee cup, giving him another of her knowing looks. This one held a warning he couldn’t ignore. He knew making love with Billie Rae shouldn’t have happened. Legally, she was a married woman. But to his way of thinking, Duane had broken the vows, destroying that fragile thing that made a marriage.
He knew Emma was worried about him getting too close to Billie Rae and getting his heart broken. But he wondered if it wasn’t already too late. Damned if he would ever regret what had happened between them, no matter what today brought. He didn’t kid himself. He knew that Duane was still out there looking for Billie Rae—and that she knew it as well. Whatever was going to transpire between them, it wasn’t over yet.
Emma kept up a cheerful chatter as she and the cook, Celeste, served homemade pancakes with huckleberry syrup. Tanner watched Billie Rae put away a dozen of the silver-dollar-sized cakes, smiling to himself. A good appetite was a sure sign that she was bouncing back.
“She doesn’t want to hear any of this,” Tanner said after Emma told a particularly funny story she’d heard about him as a boy. Billie Rae was smiling, looking relaxed, looking as if she belonged in this kitchen.
“I wish you’d gotten a chance to meet my husband Hoyt,” Emma was saying. “He could tell you some stories about his boys. But Hoyt’s off digging fence post holes with Tanner’s brothers.”