Cowboy Protector

by Margaret Daley

  “Yes, there was a little boy who lived next to Saul’s and he loved visiting him. I started bringing extra goodies I made for the child and, of course, Saul, who has a sweet tooth.” Hannah went on and described a few children she’d cared for. By the time she’d finished, she’d relaxed back, leaning against one arm of the sofa.

  “So you’ve worked with someone as young as Misty?”

  “My second client was six. I was with her two months. I hated leaving but was so glad she was better.”

  “I expect Misty to have a full recovery.” Austin slid her papers back into the envelope. “Although her casts will come off soon, her ankle was shattered by the accident and she broke another bone in her leg. It’ll be a while before she’s running around and playing like she’s used to. Right now she has a motorized wheelchair, and you better look out when she wants to go somewhere.”

  “May I meet her?” Hannah looked from him to his grandmother.

  “She was resting, but she should be up by now. We moved her bedroom downstairs next to mine since she’s in a wheelchair. There’s another one on the other side of Misty where you could sleep, and there are two empty ones upstairs where Austin sleeps.”

  “I’ll take Hannah to Misty’s room.” Austin rose in one fluid motion.

  Hannah followed him from the room, trying not to stare too much at his broad back. Even hidden beneath a white button-down, long sleeve shirt, she could see his muscular biceps. She got the feeling he was very involved in the running of his ranch. His large hands were work roughened, and as he’d driven down his gravel road, his gaze swept the terrain as though he were checking everything out, assessing what was going on. She’d learned to do the same thing but for different reasons. That skill had kept her alive.

  He tapped lightly on a door then eased it open, peering inside.

  “Is she here, Daddy?”

  “See for yourself, munchkin.” He entered, stepping to the side so his daughter could glimpse her.

  Hannah grinned and came into the room. “I’m Hannah, Misty. I hear you’ve been a brave little girl.” Crossing to the bed, she took the chair next to it.

  Misty sat up, leaning back against the pillows, a pink satiny comforter pulled up over her hips. “Has Daddy showed you the horses?”

  “I’ve seen some in the fields, but I haven’t seen any up close. Do you ride?”

  The five-year-old nodded, strands of her long, black hair falling forward over her shoulders. “I have a horse of my very own.” Her mouth turned down in a pout. “I can’t ride now.”

  Hannah slid a glance toward Austin, not sure what to say to that comment.

  “You will when you get better.” He clasped the bedpost that supported the canopy. “Candy is waiting for you. I’m taking special care of her until you can.”

  Misty’s warm milk-chocolate eyes lit at the mention of Candy. “I want to see her. I miss her.”

  “I’ll arrange something later today. Maybe bring Candy up to the house and let you show Ms. Williams.”

  “Oh, please call me Hannah.” She swiveled her attention back to the little girl. “And you, too, Misty.” Hannah was so much easier for her to remember to respond to than Ms. Williams. One of the toughest things she’d had to do was not to forget her new name, which was difficult since it was changing in some way about every six months. “I don’t stand on formality.” She looked again at Austin.

  “We don’t here, either. Do we, munchkin?”

  “What’s for-ma-now-tee?”

  “Remember a few months back when we went to Grandma Kline’s house and had dinner with all those fancy dishes and white lace tablecloth. That’s formality.”

  “Oh. I couldn’t talk at the table.”

  Austin frowned. “Well, Grandma Kline likes things done a certain way. She never believed children should speak till spoken to.” He moved to Misty and ruffled her hair, then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” Then to Hannah, he said, “When you’re through, come to my office at the back of the house.”

  “Will do.” Hannah scooted her chair up to the bed while he left the room. “Tell me about Candy. Why did you name her that?”

  Misty bent toward her, cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth as if to impart a secret. “I love candy. I love horses.”

  “That makes sense. I love candy, too. Maybe too much.” She patted her stomach.

  “I ate too much once and got sick. Daddy told me too much of a good thing can be bad for me.”

  “Yeah, he’s right.”

  Misty’s pout returned. “I haven’t seen Candy in a long time. Daddy says she misses me. But I miss her more.”

  Like I miss my mother and little brother. All Hannah wanted to do was hug them again. She’d never let them go. She could still remember the fight her brother and she had gotten into the day before everything in her life had changed. She’d never really apologized and told him she was sorry, not face-to-face. A letter wasn’t the same thing.

  Misty hung her head and twisted her hands together. “I miss Mommy, too. She’s with Jesus now.”

  Hannah laid her palm against the little girl’s arm with the cast up to just below her elbow. “Honey, of course you do.”

  Misty sniffled and knuckled her tears away. “I shouldn’t cry.”

  “It’s okay when you’re sad.”

  The little girl looked right at her with huge brown eyes, a glistening shine in them. “It makes Daddy sad when I do.”

  Hannah’s heart cracked at the pain she heard in the child’s quavering voice. She leaned close to Misty as though telling her a secret. “I won’t tell if you cry when I’m with you.”

  The little girl’s forehead crinkled, and a baffled expression entered her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell?”

  “Nope. Sometimes girls just need a good cry. Men don’t always understand that.” She wished she had someone who would understand her tears. Someone she could explain the constant fear she lived with. But most people would never understand. Her life was the result of a split-second decision that had wiped everything she was familiar with away.

  Austin stood at his large picture window in his office staring at the meadow where some of his horses grazed. He closed his eyes and a picture of Hannah Williams appeared—green eyes like two pieces of crystal, a sparkle in their depths, long, wavy hair the color of cinnamon and delicate features shaped into a beautiful countenance. The kind of beauty that screamed at him to run as fast as he could away from the woman. His deceased wife had that kind of beauty, and her restless spirit had driven her to lengths he’d never imagined when he’d married her.

  When he glimpsed one of the mares teasing a stallion even with two fences and a road between them, he knew he wouldn’t hire Hannah, although Saul sang her praises. Pivoting away from the window, he kneaded the tight cords of his neck. Ms. Hannah Williams was hiding something. He felt it deep in his gut, a warning he wished he’d had before marrying Jillian. A bitter taste coated his tongue. His wife’s deceit destroyed any desire to leave himself open to that kind of betrayal. All he wanted to do was bury himself in his work and concentrate on Misty getting better.

  The sound of his grandmother’s cane on the hall’s hardwood floor alerted him to her approach. He wiped his expression clear. Everything that had happened to Misty had exacted a toll on Granny, too.

  She came into his office, a smile on her face. “I hope you hire Hannah.”

  “I know Saul recommended her, but I think I’ll pass on her. We need someone who is older.”

  “I would want her even if Saul hadn’t been the one to recommend her. I was going to escort her here to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with Misty. I heard your daughter actually laugh at something Hannah said. Did you hear me? Misty laughed. I haven’t heard that sound in ages. I want that back in this house.”

  So do I. But if he hired Hannah, he’d go against his better judgment.
“I don’t know, Granny. I think she’s hiding something.”

  “Check out her other reference. But I’ve got a feeling about Hannah that has nothing to do with what my friend said about her. She’d be perfect for Misty. That child needs her.”

  “Still…”

  “All of us have something to hide from others. Can you honestly say you’re totally above board with everyone you meet, especially the first time?”

  “Well, no.” He cracked a grin. “I at least wait till the second meeting before giving them my whole life history.”

  His grandmother flipped her wrist, her palm up. “There. That’s my point. I’ll keep an eye on her, but you know I’m rarely wrong about a person and I trust Saul’s opinion. The Lord has sent her to us. I know it in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart.

  “I’ll pray about it and check her other reference before I make my final decision.”

  “That’s all I ask, Austin. I’ll go get her. Try not to scare her off.”

  “I’ll keep my growl to a purr.”

  As his grandmother left the office, Austin twisted back to the picture window. A snowflake cascaded down to the ground. Here it was the end of February and winter still had its grip on them, probably would for at least another month or longer. This was a busy time at the ranch with the births of the calves and foals. He still had a few more people to hire for the spring and summer. He didn’t want to worry about who was taking care of his daughter.

  Lord, if the other reference gives Hannah a glowing one then I’ll hire her. But if it’s less than glowing, I’ll take that as a sign from You to find someone else.

  A sound—a soft rap on wood—caught his attention, and he rotated toward it. His quick movement caused Hannah to step back, her body to tense, her eyes to widen. For a second fear flashed across her expression before she schooled it into a neutral one, the tension in her body melting away. His gut constricted as he sat and waved for her to have a seat in front of him.

  “Hannah, is there anything in your past I should be aware of?”

  TWO

  Scrabbling for a safe answer to his loaded question, Hannah swallowed hard but kept her gaze trained on Austin, sitting behind his desk in his office. She wished she could share her past with someone because there were days the pain of loss beat her down, but that would be a foolish, dangerous move on her part. “No. I love what I do. My job is important to me.” Helping others was what kept her going on those days when thoughts of her past threatened to overwhelm her.

  He nodded. “Do you have any questions about the job? About Misty?”

  “She’s adorable, and I think I can help her.” The child was hurting physically, and emotionally, too. Although her mom was still alive, Hannah could identify with losing a mother.

  “Then I’ll have an answer soon for you.” He stood, snatching up his set of keys. “A storm is moving in, and I want to make sure I get you back in time for your bus.”

  Pushing to her feet, she started to tell him she could stay another hour and still get back before the bus to Billings left. She would like to spend some more time with Misty, but she was being dismissed. When she got back to Billings, she needed to look seriously for another job.

  Later that night when Hannah finally fell into bed, sleep came quickly but so did the dream. Back in her rental house as if two years hadn’t happened, Hannah heard the crashing sound of glass breaking. The noise of footsteps.

  They’ve found me!

  The words screamed through Hannah’s mind, wrenching her from the nightmare that gripped her. Her eyes flew open, her limbs all tangled in something confining. Her thoughts jumbled, she fought for release. Frantic, she rolled, trying to get away.

  The breath-jarring impact with her bedroom carpet totally woke her up. Her sheet held her prisoner in its snarled mess. Lying next to her bed, she shifted until she faced the ceiling and saw the lights from outside her apartment dancing on its spackled surface.

  Drawing in deep gulps of air to calm her racing heartbeat, she tried to reassure herself that her nightmare hadn’t been real—at least not the part about her being tackled by some unknown assailant. But the break-in two years ago had been very real. Real enough for her to flee the town where the Witness Protection Program had settled her, and when her time to report in with the U.S. Marshals had come last year, she’d let it pass without calling. She didn’t know if the break-in had anything to do with her being in the program or not. She hadn’t waited around to discover the truth because if it had been connected she would be dead by now.

  She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Slowly the thundering of her heart eased. But as she scanned the dark recesses of her room, she could imagine some henchman lurking in one of them, waiting to pounce. A shiver chilled her. She dragged the tangled sheet about her shoulders and huddled under its warmth, wishing she didn’t have such a vivid imagination.

  She didn’t have this nightmare much except when she planned to move to another location and for maybe the first week in the new place. But the trip yesterday to Bitterroot Valley and the Triple T Ranch had stirred up all her fears. Once she was settled she’d be okay—that was if Austin Taylor decided to hire her.

  She had her doubts after the last meeting in his office and the silent trip back to Sweet Creek and the bus depot.

  When he’d asked her if she had anything to hide, she’d hated lying to him, but how was she supposed to tell him that she had some evil people after her who would love to know where she was? Thankfully the nearly two years she’d been on her own without the Witness Protection Program, Devon Madison’s goons hadn’t found her because she was very careful. Staying in one place for three years could have possibly led someone to her front door. The key was constantly moving every few months, changing her name a couple of times, using cash and not leaving a paper trail in any name.

  Finally rising, she shed her sheet and donned her lime-green terry-cloth robe. She needed coffee then a shower. She still had a job at Saul Peterson’s. He’d told her to stay until she found another one. But she couldn’t stay too long even if she didn’t get a job right away. She had some money saved, if need be.

  After fixing a pot of coffee and pouring a mug full, she parted the drapes in her living room overlooking the street in front of her apartment building. Only a few inches, but enough she could check out the area. She often found herself doing this when she was home, a habit she’d picked up early in the Witness Protection Program. One she wasn’t going to give up even if she felt secure in her new identity.

  She usually peered up and down the road, searching for any car parked that didn’t belong. When she discovered one, she would note its tag number, description and keep tabs on it. She’d moved once in the middle of the night when a vehicle kept appearing out in front of her place. Discreet questions with her neighbors had left her puzzled with who was the owner of the Chevy. Later, she’d discovered quite by accident it was a man having a secret affair with a neighbor. That incident had reinforced her need not to panic, to use a clear-thinking judgment. Panic could lead to a mistake and, according to the man who’d helped her with her new identity in the beginning, could get her killed.

  A sigh escaped her parted lips when she saw an empty street, except for a truck that traveled toward the east. The sky brightened to a rosy hue, splashing an array of colors from a pale baby blue to a lemon yellow. Time to get ready for work.

  Taking several sips of her coffee, she surveyed the road one last time. A black Ford SUV drove around the corner and onto her street. It slowed and pulled into a spot across from her building. No one got out. She stepped back and farther to the side, then inched the curtains apart.

  When ten minutes passed, she started to reach for her pad to write down the tag number, but a young woman came jogging down the sidewalk from the apartments across the street and slid into the passenger side of the SUV. It sped away.

  Hannah collapsed against the back of the chair behind her, still clasping her mug
between her hands. Would this constant fear ever go away? Probably not.

  In her mind she truly believed that she was safe, but in her heart she couldn’t quite shake her gut reaction to different situations—like an unknown vehicle on her street. She had to continue to work on that, or she would never have any kind of life. Any kind of peace.

  Hannah got off the bus in front of Mama’s Diner and hurried inside. She headed to a booth in the back near an exit and slipped onto the black vinyl cushion, worn in spots. Being a little late, she noticed the morning crowd was thinning. Her usual waitress gave her a smile, finished pouring some coffee for one of her customers, and then threaded her way through the maze of tables to Hannah.

  “I thought maybe you’d taken a new job and had left Billings,” Olivia Jarrod said as she set a mug on the table and filled it.

  “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Olivia was the closest person to a friend she’d had in a long, long time. From the beginning two months ago when Hannah had come into the diner for breakfast before going to Saul Peterson’s around the corner, they had hit it off. It had been Olivia’s first day on the job, and she’d been nervous, making a lot of mistakes. A few customers hadn’t had much patience, but Hannah saw a person in need of a kind word. From that point on, she’d always sat in Olivia’s area, and her friend had sometimes been able to join her for a cup of coffee if the crowd wasn’t large. She’d miss Olivia. There was a connection with Olivia she couldn’t explain.

  Her hands still cold from a north wind bringing frigid weather, Hannah wrapped them around the navy-blue ceramic cup. “Ah, this feels good. It’s cold out there.”

  “Yeah, I’ve felt it every time the door has opened.” Her friend looked around. “I’m due a break. I’ll join you for a few minutes while you eat. Your usual?”

  “Of course. I hate change and what I eat for breakfast I can control.” So little else was totally in her control.