Cowboy Protector

by Margaret Daley

  “It’s not gonna snow, and Daddy will be fine about it.” Misty’s expression mirrored all her hope that sounded in her voice. “Before the wreck, I always got to feed Barney. Can we before we go?”

  “Sure. Where’s the food?”

  “In the storage room.” Misty nestled her face against Candy’s head.

  “Will you be okay while I go get it?”

  Misty laughed. “Nuthin’ gonna happen with Candy here.”

  Although Hannah had tried to keep her fear of large animals she was unfamiliar with from her voice, the amused look the little girl gave her along with what she said underscored her failure. At the stall entrance Hannah glanced back over her shoulder at Misty and Candy. The mare kept her head lowered so the child could continue to pet her as if the horse knew something was wrong with Misty, that the child couldn’t stand. No, Misty would be fine, and Hannah would have to get used to Candy because weather willing she planned on bringing the girl down to the barn a lot. Misty came alive in here.

  When she checked her watch, Hannah realized they had stayed longer than she had planned. She could picture Austin combing the house for them, anger building on his face when he didn’t find them. Hurrying toward what she believed was the storage room, she burst through the closed door and came to an abrupt halt.

  A small, wiry man with his back to her stood in the corner by some boxes. As he swung his gaze to her, surprise flittered into his expression. He made a scraping movement with his foot then whirled around. “What are you doing in here?”

  His furious tone caused her to step back into the doorway of the storage room, the faint odor of smoke accosting her. “I’m getting Barney’s food,” she said and spied the bag several feet from the man. “Misty’s going to feed him.”

  Some of the tension in him deflated. “Oh, I just didn’t expect anyone to come in here at this hour. I’ll bring it out to you.”

  His dismissal of her heightened her suspicion. He was probably the hired hand who was smoking in the barn. She couldn’t ignore the faint odor of cigarette smoke. This wasn’t any of her business. She needed to back out of the room and dismiss what he had been doing. Getting involved and doing the right thing five years ago ruined her life. Austin would discover the guy soon enough.

  What if Austin didn’t and something happened? For the past years, she had done what she needed to survive, but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to what this man was doing. If the man flicked the cigarette into some hay, the barn could be destroyed. Animals killed.

  “That’s all right. I can get it.” She headed toward the bag on the floor, forcing the hired hand to move.

  His glare chilled her. He stepped to the side, planting one foot and dragging the other to him. The scent of smoke hanging in the air was stronger the closer she came to him, confirming her suspicions.

  Hannah bent over to lift the twenty-five-pound bag but almost instantly dropped it back to the floor. “On second thought, could you please carry this bag out to Misty? It’s heavier than I thought.” Straightening, she watched his every action.

  Austin’s employee pawed the wooden planks with the toe of his boot, then reluctantly covered the space between them and scooped up the bag as though it only weighed a few pounds. “After you, ma’am.”

  Near the entrance Hannah stopped. “Oh, I forgot the cat food. You go ahead. I can manage that bag.” She sidled away, backing up toward where she saw the cat food.

  The man grumbled something under his breath, but he left. Hannah rushed to where he had been standing and searched the floor. Nothing. He had to be smoking. Unless he came in right after someone had just finished. Doubt began to nibble at her when she zeroed in on the tip of the cigarette butt under the shelving where he’d shoved it with his booted foot.

  She pulled it out and murmured, “Gotcha.”

  Someone cleared his throat behind her.

  FOUR

  The sudden unexpected sound behind her caused Hannah to whirl, the cigarette butt clutched between her thumb and forefinger. The doorway framed Austin’s tall, muscular build. A frown carved his features in stone. His flintlike gaze locked on the cigarette and his eyes flared.

  “This isn’t mine,” she quickly said.

  “Where did you find that?” The frost in his look carried over into his voice.

  Hannah pointed to the floor by the shelving. “Under there.”

  “Why did you look under there?”

  “Because when I came in here, a cowhand was acting suspiciously and I could smell smoke.”

  Austin approached. “Who?”

  “I don’t know who. He was thin but strong-looking. Had brown hair, gray eyes. Short, maybe five-six. He took a bag of dog food so Misty and I could feed Barney.” She started forward. “I need to get back to Misty. She’s with Candy.”

  As she passed Austin, a hand on her arm stopped her. “I’d like the butt.” He laid his palm out flat for her. “And Misty is right outside the door.”

  “You didn’t see anyone with Barney’s food?”

  “No, but I imagine he hightailed it out of here.”

  “So, you know who it is?” She put the cigarette into his hand and watched as he curled his fingers around it, so tightly that the tips reddened.

  “One of the guys I took on in the fall. I’ll be tracking him down later.”

  Hannah didn’t doubt that. His anger vibrated the air between them. The hired hand had lied to Austin, and he didn’t take kindly to that fact. Thankfully she only had to be here seven or eight weeks because she never wanted him to know her whole life was a lie. She suppressed a shudder.

  He released his hold, and Hannah took a step toward the door, then came to a halt. “I almost forgot. I need the cat food, too.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll get it.”

  Quickly she left him. The storage room was way too small for the both of them. Although it was cold in the barn, sweat dampened her undershirt. She found Misty near the metal bowls for Barney and Snowball. The white cat rubbed himself against Misty’s uninjured leg while the little girl patted Barney, a mixture of probably four or five large breeds with long brown hair and a tail that wagged enthusiastically.

  “I see your pets are ready to eat.” Hannah spied the bag of dog food propped up against the wall by the dishes.

  “I’m a little early to feed them today. They sure miss me.” Snowball leaped into Misty’s lap, her giggles mingling with her pet’s loud purring.

  “Yes, I can see that. My cat would rub herself against my face and like to drape herself around my neck. Of course, it was hard to breathe sometimes so I had to put a stop to that.”

  Misty tilted her head to the side. “What happened to your cat?”

  “I left her with a friend.”

  “You shouldn’t be away from her. We have plenty of room for a cat, don’t we, Daddy?” The girl’s gaze fixed on her father behind Hannah.

  When she rotated toward Austin, she wished she hadn’t said anything about Callie. Misty had a way of making her forget she had to watch her every word and guard what she revealed.

  He dropped the bag of food next to the other one and straightened. “Sure, if you want.”

  “I won’t be here long. I hate to move Callie around too much, and she loves the children at my friend’s house.” Which was all true thankfully.

  “I’ll share Snowball with you.”

  Misty’s words swelled Hannah’s throat with emotions she wanted to deny. In just a few days she was growing to care too much for this little girl she would have to leave. Hannah swallowed several times and said, “That’s so sweet of you.”

  “Here, hold her.” Misty tried to pick Snowball up with her one good arm and because the cat weighed about fifteen pounds she couldn’t manage.

  Hannah rushed to the child and took Snowball. “Thanks.” She pressed the animal against her chest and scratched him behind his ears. The sound of his purrs brought back memories of Callie and nights that she spent talking to her pet about
her mother and brother. Callie had been a willing listener to her woes and had met a need in Hannah to talk about her pain at leaving them behind. She’d cried many tears to Callie. Burying her face in Snowball’s fur, she kept her head down while she fought the tears so close to the surface as the memories tumbled through her.

  At the sound of the dry bits falling into the metal bowl, Barney bolted to his dish and began to eat. Reluctantly Hannah placed Snowball on the ground as Austin filled his bowl. Misty moved closer and watched both animals eating while Austin took the bags back into the storage room.

  When he came out, he shut the door then locked it. “I came down here to get you two. Breakfast is probably ready by now.”

  “Good. I’m starved.” Misty turned her electric wheelchair and headed for the main house.

  Hannah followed with Austin next to her. “Did you find any other cigarette butts in the storage room?”

  “Yeah, a stash. How did you know I had?”

  “You locked the door. It hadn’t been locked previously.”

  “I don’t go in there much. Most of what I need is in the tack room over there.” He gestured toward another door near the entrance as they left the barn. “I’ll give you a key so you can get the food for the pets.”

  She spared a glance toward him, his strong jawline set in a clench. “What are you going to do about the cowhand?”

  “Fire him. First, he has no business being in the barn at that hour. He’s been neglecting his duties. I was hoping over time he would settle into the job, but he hasn’t. I need someone who will work. And lastly, he lied to me, pointblank. Those are all reasons I’m letting him go. If it had just been the smoking, we could have worked something out. I can’t trust him.”

  “And that’s important to you,” she murmured, almost as though she needed to remind herself that he was off limits for many reasons but that was one of them.

  “Isn’t it to you?” He slowed his pace.

  “Yeah, trust is important in a relationship.” She couldn’t cover the wistful tone in her voice.

  He came to a stop and faced her. “It sounds like you’ve been burned before.”

  “Yes.” She had no intention of telling him how she’d been burned, so she kept moving toward the house and hoped for a reprieve from all his inquiries even though they weren’t always phrased as questions. When he caught up with her, she decided to do her own probing. “How about you? Have you been burned?” She wondered about Misty’s mother and the few remarks the child had made about her.

  His stony look and the tension emanating from him made it obvious he wasn’t going to answer.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. But Misty has said a few things. I thought if I knew what happened the night of the car wreck I could help her better. But I can understand the pain and grief you’re going through. It wouldn’t be easy talking about your deceased wife.” And she needed to remind herself his wife had died five weeks before. That ought to take care of any attraction she felt toward Austin.

  He rolled his shoulders. “What has she been saying?”

  “She misses her mommy and is worried about you. Sometimes I get the impression she thinks she caused the wreck. Not from anything she’s said exactly, but something’s bothering her.”

  He peered toward his daughter, who was maneuvering her wheelchair up the ramp to the deck in front. As he watched his grandmother let Misty into the house, myriad emotions flitted in and out of his eyes—puzzlement, sadness and finally a resolve. “My wife and I had been separated a year when she returned to the ranch to take Misty away. We fought about it. That was the first time she had come back since she’d left. She’d talked to our daughter a few times on the phone but that was all. I thought I’d made myself clear. She wanted to read a bedtime story to Misty. Then she said she would leave. I received an important call I’d been waiting for. I went into my office, leaving the door open to listen for Jillian coming out of Misty’s room and down the stairs. When you step on a certain stair, it creaks. I didn’t count on Jillian sneaking Misty out of the house because she hadn’t really shown any interest in our daughter.” The monotone he used to tell his story, his faraway stare underscored how difficult it was to talk about what happened that night.

  Hannah wanted to end the pain it produced. “You don’t have—”

  “The next thing,” Austin continued in a tightly controlled voice, “I know is Granny telling me Misty was gone. I jumped into the Jeep to go after them.” He removed his cowboy hat and plowed his fingers through his hair, a tic in his cheek twitching. “I found the wreck ten minutes later.”

  Without thinking, Hannah touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  He plopped his hat on his head and shrugged his arm away. “It shouldn’t have happened.” He started to say something else but instead clamped his mouth shut and stalked up the steps to the deck.

  Hannah blew a breath out. Who was he angry with, himself or his wife?

  At the door he halted, his hand on the knob. “I would rather you not talk about the wreck with Misty unless she brings it up, then answer what questions you need but don’t dwell on it. She doesn’t remember a lot about it or the first few days right after it. I don’t want her reliving it.” Because he did enough for the both of them. He dreamed about the wreck, often waking up in a sweat with images of his daughter crumpled like a broken doll.

  He wrenched open the door and entered his house, very aware of the woman coming inside right behind him. She’d kept him up late, too. There was something about her—a vulnerability—that nibbled at his defenses. When Jillian had left him over a year ago, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t give his heart to another. Living on the ranch wasn’t for everyone, and he didn’t have the time to go out looking for a woman who would love the ranch, his daughter and him as well as the Lord. That was a tall order and one he didn’t intend to try to fill.

  Then Hannah arrived to help with Misty. They instantly connected better than his daughter had with her own mother. He’d heard more laughter and talking from Misty in the past few days since Hannah had come than he had in months when Jillian had lived here.

  “Austin?”

  Hannah’s voice with a huskiness to it melted the ice about his emotion. He slowed his pace across the large foyer and peered back at her, standing in the threshold to the dining room. “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?”

  He gave a quick shake of his head and continued his trek to his office. He was afraid if he was around Hannah anymore he would spill his guts to her. And he had a man to fire.

  Austin stuck his head in the doorway to Misty’s room later that day. “You’ve got a call.”

  Hannah clenched the book she was reading to the child. “A call?” Who knows I’m here? Fear mushroomed through her. Beads of perspiration coated her forehead.

  “Yeah, Saul called and talked to my grandmother, then wanted to talk to you.” He covered the distance to the bed. “I’ll finish up in here. Granny is in the kitchen.”

  Hannah breathed a sigh of relief, leaned over and kissed Misty’s cheek. “Good night. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  The little girl giggled. “I won’t.”

  Hannah hurried from the child’s bedroom. When she entered the kitchen, Caroline waved her over to the desk where she sat talking on the phone.

  “Saul, Hannah is here. It was nice catching up with you. You need to call more often, or maybe when you feel like it, come see us at the ranch.” She paused a half a minute. “Yeah, I will. Bye.” Caroline handed the receiver to her, then pushed herself to her feet and moved toward the door.

  “Hi, Saul. Is everything okay?” Hannah wiped one palm on her jeans, then switched the phone to the other hand and did the same thing.

  “Can’t a friend call and make sure you got to the ranch all right?”

  “Well, yeah.” It had been so long since she’d had someone care about her like that. The gesture touched her heart. “I’m fine. M
isty and I are hitting it off. She’s adorable.”

  “Caroline was telling me about what a great job you’re doing.” Saul cleared his throat. “I also wanted to tell you something I found out today when I went to Mama’s Diner for lunch. It had been a while since I’d been there with my illness and all. But the lady who owns Mama’s Diner is a friend.”

  “You told me about Alice when I first came to work for you. That’s why I started going there for breakfast.”

  “Alice told me something interesting. She’d been gone a while because her granddaughter had a baby and she went to Missoula to see her.”

  Hannah sank onto the chair at the desk. Saul loved to tell his stories and sometimes they took a while. “That’s great.”

  “Anyway, that’s not what I called about. She had a woman and a man come in a couple of weeks ago. It turns out it was Violet Kramer. You know, the reporter I told you about that I like to follow in my hometown newspaper.”

  “It’s a small world. Too bad you couldn’t meet her.”

  “Alice said Violet asked her about a woman named Jen Davis. She wondered if this Jen ever came into the diner, if she lived or worked around the area. Alice said she didn’t know anyone by that name, but when Violet showed her a photo, Alice thought it looked like you some.”

  Hannah straightened. Her grip on the receiver tightened. “Looked like me?”

  “Yeah, but the quality wasn’t great so Alice wasn’t sure.”

  “Did she say anything about me to the reporter?” Hannah asked in as nonchalant voice as she could muster while her heartbeat accelerated when she thought of the ramifications if a reporter found out who she was and where she lived.

  Saul chuckled. “Alice didn’t say a word. She isn’t partial to nosey reporters, and besides, she wasn’t sure herself. I assured her your name wasn’t Jen Davis, but I thought you’d get a kick out of the fact you’ve got a look-alike out there who Violet is looking for. She isn’t your usual nosey reporter. When I’ve read her recent articles, she cares about the people she writes about. If there’s a reporter you could trust, it would be her.”