He eased up slightly. “Sorry about that. I don’t want you suffocating. I have other plans for you—much more painful.” He ran his gun barrel down her cheek. “Have you heard my brother died in prison last month? Killed in a fight with another prisoner.”
The air that flooded her lungs did nothing to relieve the tightness about her chest from panic. Although she heard his words, she tried to process what he was saying, but his handsome face with such a chilling smile riveted her full attention.
“So when I found out where you were, I just knew I had to do this myself. Sending someone after you wouldn’t be as satisfying. I want to see the fear and pain in your eyes when I kill you slowly. You’ll suffer, my dear. Just like my brother did behind bars for the past five years.”
His seething hate exploded in her face, sending shafts of ice clear to her bones.
With her hands pinned to her sides and his weight keeping her constrained against the bed, she felt trapped like a deer surrounded by hungry wolves. She slid her eyelids half closed, refusing to let him see her expression as she frantically tried to school it into an expression that didn’t show all the panic and terror consuming her.
He shoved the end of the barrel against her mouth. “Open your eyes or I might ditch my plans and feed you a bullet right now.”
The pain, like a hot poker piercing Austin’s shoulder, threatened to devour his strength and concentration.
Help, Lord.
Through the haze clouding his brain, Austin managed to focus on his attacker and throw his weight into him. Austin kept his hand locked about the gun as they tumbled to the floor, the bulky man taking the brunt of the fall. The impact stole the intruder’s breath for a few seconds. Austin and the man wrestled for control of the gun. Suddenly the weapon discharged.
The thud sounded at the same time the bullet ripped through the assailant’s stomach. He went slack, his clasp on the Glock dropping away.
Austin struggled to his feet, the scent of cordite swirling around him. The man’s blood on his shirt mingled with his own, its metallic stench overpowering. From the hole in the man’s belly, he wasn’t going anywhere.
Austin staggered toward his dresser and yanked open a drawer. Pulling a T-shirt from it, he held it to his shoulder and started for the door. No time to properly tend to his wound. He had to find Hannah.
Please, Lord, protect her. Keep her safe.
Out in the hallway upstairs, he scanned up and down it. How many men were in his house? Where were the deputies? As he headed toward the stairs, he stopped at the bedroom where the deputy slept and pushed against the slightly open door. The law enforcement officer lay on the bed, a gash in the side of his head, but the rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive.
The urge to go to him was strong, but Austin turned away, taking his cell out and making a call to 911 then to his foreman in the bunkhouse as he continued heading down the stairs. Austin kept his voice to a whisper as he talked, knowing help would probably be too late.
He hurried his steps, the increased movement making him light-headed. He steeled himself. He couldn’t give in until he knew Hannah was safe.
As he crossed the foyer, he peered into the living room where the other deputy usually was camped out. At the entrance the man lay sprawled on the hardwood floor, a bullet hole in his chest. As though he sensed someone was near, his eyes fluttered open.
Austin knelt next to the deputy. “How many?”
“Two,” the man choked out, swallowed then tried to say something else but went limp, his head rolling to the side.
Austin pushed to his feet, clutched the doorjamb to steady himself, then trudged forward toward Hannah’s bedroom. As he drew closer, a male voice alerted him to the fact she wasn’t alone. The other killer had found her.
Fortifying his resolve to end this now, Austin gripped his attacker’s Glock and trained his full attention on her open door. Stealthily he moved toward the room and pressed himself against the wall.
The pain throbbing in his shoulder leaked into his thoughts as he listened to the killer say, “Good. You know how to follow directions. How did you think you would deprive me of seeing your fear? I’ve come all the way from California to see it.”
Cold laughter filled the air, hardening Austin’s heart. He’d have one chance to take this man out. With adrenaline pumping through him, Austin blocked the pain from his mind again and inched closer, peeping into the room to see where Hannah and the man were.
“You know I often wondered what my brother saw in you. Maybe I should find out before I kill you.”
As Austin was about to make his move, rage blinded him for a few seconds. His hand holding the Glock shook. He froze in mid-motion.
Lord, help.
Suddenly calmness descended. Even Hannah’s cry didn’t pull him from his mission. Austin pivoted into the doorway, took aim and said, “Let her go.”
The second intruder twisted about, leveling his gun up at Austin as the man pulled back on the trigger. Austin dodged to the side and got off a shot at the same time as Hannah’s attacker did. A bullet struck the doorjamb a few inches from Austin’s left arm, sending wood chips flying, while the man collapsed against Hannah.
The room spun before Austin’s eyes. He sank to the floor, blackness hovering.
TWELVE
In the hospital’s break room in Missoula, Hannah sat across from Deputy U.S. Marshal Micah McGraw from Billings. She interlaced her fingers together in her lap, trying to warm her cold hands that still slightly shook from everything that happened a few hours ago. But nothing helped. A chill had embedded itself in her bones the first time she’d heard Devon’s cultured voice at the ranch, and it wasn’t going to let go. At least not until Austin was all right.
“And you’re positive the two men in the woods used the name Eloise Hill?” the U.S. Marshal asked, his dark eyes intent on her face.
“They mentioned that name several times. Is it the Eloise Hill from Chicago who testified against the mob twenty-two years ago that they were after?”
“I’m not at liberty to go into details, but you won’t have to worry about those men anymore.” Micah wrote something down in his pad. “Did the men from Chicago say how they found you?”
“No. All they wanted to do was kill me.” A shudder ripped down her length, and she pulled the front of her sweater to her as she crossed her arms.
“Are you aware that Saul Peterson was attacked?”
Hannah sat forward. “What happened? How is he?” Please, don’t let there be another person I’m responsible for being hurt.
“Monday someone beat him up in his apartment. It didn’t appear to be a robbery, and Saul doesn’t remember much about the assault. He’s out of the woods and recovering at St. Vincent Hospital. I talked with him yesterday afternoon before the storm got bad. He’ll be fine and is going home in a few days, Ms. Davis.”
The use of her birth name took her by surprise. “So where do I stand with the U.S. Marshals?”
“With Devon Madison’s death there is no threat to your life. And as he told you, his brother, Cullen, died in a prison fight a month ago. The thug with Devon told us that someone in the Martino mob sold the information on your whereabouts to Devon, but he’s the only one who wanted it.”
“Will Devon’s man make it?”
“The doctor thinks so although he remains in critical condition.”
“There’s been too much death,” she murmured. A lifetime of it, Hannah thought, her mind on autopilot.
Only Devon died out of all that carnage at the ranch, but the injury count was high—four. Three of them had been flown to the bigger hospital in Missoula. The deputy in the living room lost a lot of blood but would make a full recovery. The other suffered a concussion from Devon’s bodyguard knocking him out as the deputy slept. And Austin was in surgery to repair his shoulder. She checked her watch. The minutes crawled by and still no report from the doctor.
“I don’t often get to tell a
person in the Witness Protection Program they get to resume their old life, but you do, Ms. Davis.” Smiling, Micah rose and extended his hand. “Congratulations. I can arrange for you to fly to Los Angeles if you so chose.”
Pushing to her feet, her legs wobbly, Hannah clutched the table’s edge with one hand and with the other shook his. “I’ve dreamed of seeing my mother and brother again, but I’ve got to see Saul before I leave for L.A.” Guilt weighed her down.
“You’re free to see them, call them, whatever you want.”
Whatever I want. I want Austin, but after all that had happened, that path is gone. One of the hardest things she’d had to do was call Caroline and tell her about Austin being shot and that he was in the hospital in Missoula. At least she and Misty could come and see him easily. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her when she’d arrived right before Micah McGraw requested to interview her.
“I’d better get back to the waiting room.”
“I appreciate you talking to me at a time like this. I want to wrap this up and head back to Billings.” He took out a card. “Call me if you need any assistance.”
She slipped it into her jeans pocket, trying to smile but the effort was too much. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. For so long I’ve been restricted in what I can do that…” She didn’t have the words to explain the confusion and numbness she was experiencing.
“It’s like you’ve been let out of prison?”
“Yes.”
“It’s sad that innocent people who try to help end up giving up so much because they do the right thing and testify. A few weeks ago I was sure I had found you in Billings until you gave me the slip.”
“At the Carter Building?”
“Yes.” Deputy U.S. Marshal McGraw opened the door for her.
“That was you. So I was being followed. I’d started to think I was being so paranoid.”
“Apparently you have good instincts.”
“Not good enough.” She left the break room and faced him in the corridor. “People have been hurt because of me.” And now she had to add Saul to the list.
“It wasn’t you who brought those men to the ranch.”
“How did they find me? I was very careful.”
“I’m not sure. But we’ll be looking into it. I’m hoping I can get more from the bodyguard and the two men sitting in Sweet Creek’s jail. Good day, Ms. Davis.” Micah nodded, then strode down the hallway toward the elevator.
She didn’t know if she could go back to being that woman, Jen Davis. So much had changed in five years. She’d left Los Angeles so angry with the Lord for what happened to her. Now she saw He was the only way for her to come out of this sane. She had to lean on Him.
She made her way to the waiting room where Caroline sat with Gil, who had picked her up at her granddaughter’s house. Hannah hesitated in the entrance, not sure if the older woman would want her sitting next to her, but she needed to explain, to ask her forgiveness.
Caroline spied her and rose. Using her cane, she made her way to Hannah, taking her into her embrace. “My dear, I’ve been so worried about you.”
Hannah leaned back, not sure she heard Austin’s grandmother right. “Worried about me?”
“Yes, Gil has told me what happened at the ranch.”
“He did?”
“Austin is out of surgery and in recovery right now. The doctor said he’ll be fine. And both deputies will make a full recovery. Praise the Lord.”
“But it’s because of me that this all happened. I didn’t mean for any of this to occur. I thought I was safe.” Had she been deluding herself into thinking she was safe because of her growing feelings concerning Austin? She hadn’t experienced something like that for so long—actually never, and for a few weeks she’d wanted to cling to that emotion of being cherished as a woman.
Caroline cupped Hannah’s face. “I understand Devon Madison threatened you, hiring people to come after you. But it’s over now. He’s dead. You can’t control what others do. Only what you do. You saved Misty’s life a few weeks ago. You have been a breath of fresh air at the ranch. I haven’t seen Austin so happy in a long time. Let’s go wait in the room he’ll be in. He should be out of recovery soon.”
But Austin wanted nothing to do with her, especially now. How could he? He could have died because of her. Tears pooled in Hannah’s eyes. “I’ll be in there in a while. I have something to do first.” She whirled around and hurried from the waiting room in search of the chapel.
When she found it, she collapsed into a chair at the front, finally releasing the tears she held back since the confrontation at the ranch early that morning. Now ten hours later her life was supposed to return to the way it was five years ago. But suddenly that wasn’t so appealing.
Lord, what do I do? I feel so lost.
Outside the hospital in his car, Micah McGraw called his brother, the FBI agent in charge of the task force discovering the leak in the U.S. Marshal’s office in Montana. “Jackson, I just finished interviewing Jen Davis. At least she’s alive and safe. I let Violet Kramer know about Jen and what happened at the ranch today with Devon Madison. I want her to do a story so there is no doubt in the Chicago mob’s mind that Eloise Hill isn’t Jen Davis.”
“I heard from my informant. They’ve gotten that message, but it wouldn’t hurt to reinforce it. I don’t want Jen to have to go through any more of what’s transpired the past few days to her. My informant thinks the Martino family sold Jen Davis’s whereabouts to Devon Madison. If so, the man jumped at the chance to even the score with her.”
“She’s one tough woman who’s gone through enough.” Micah’s hand about his cell tightened when he thought about the haunted look in Jen’s eyes, as though she were shell-shocked.
“Yeah, now my question is why you didn’t get the information faster about the incident in the woods on the Triple T Ranch.”
“My only guess is whoever is leaking the information to the mob stalled its delivery. I’ll be sending you the list of agents who had access, but it won’t be narrowing it down much for you.”
When Hannah finally entered Austin’s hospital room an hour later, she had run the gauntlet of emotions, and yet nothing seemed to fit her for long. The one overriding feeling she couldn’t shake was her love for the man lying in the bed because of her, his eyes closed, the pale cast to his skin alarming her although she knew he would be all right.
She would never have come to the ranch if she had thought she would bring killers to it. Yes, she’d always been vigilant and acknowledged the need for that, but because she was so careful she’d come to feel Devon wouldn’t find her. She’d been naïve before and still was.
She intended to make sure with her own eyes that Austin would be all right, then she would leave. She wouldn’t bring any more heartache to him. The night before when she’d told him the truth of who she was, that look in his eyes would stay with her forever. To him she’d betrayed what had been developing between them. And she couldn’t blame him for feeling that way.
She’d never had that talk with him she’d set out to do in the middle of the night. And now it was just as well. She didn’t want to bring any more pain to him or his family.
Hannah covered the width of the room and sat next to Caroline on the couch. “Where’s Gil?”
“He went to get him some coffee and see his deputy before he heads back to Sweet Creek.”
Maybe she could hitch a ride with him, pack her belongings and leave the ranch before Austin returned. “When will Austin be able to go home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Have you said anything to Misty?” Hannah asked while her gaze fastened onto the chiseled planes of Austin’s face, relaxed now in sleep.
“No, I didn’t want to tell her until I knew what was going on firsthand. I will later tonight. Austin’s sister will drive us all back to the ranch after he’s discharged tomorrow. If I know my grandson, he won’t stay here longer than he has to. You can go back with us t
hen, too. I’m sure my granddaughter won’t mind you staying at her house tonight, either.”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m going to ask Gil for a ride. I want to make sure everything at the house is cleaned up. I know Max said not to worry about it, but I don’t want Misty to see anything out of place.”
“Don’t blame yourself, child.” Caroline patted Hannah’s hand lying on her thigh. “I know my grandson has deep feelings for you.”
Which she destroyed last night. Her gaze strayed to Austin, still asleep in the bed. Because of me he could have died this morning. He might forgive me. I don’t forgive myself.
A woman with beautiful green eyes and curly hair peeked into the room. “Are you Hannah? Micah McGraw called me to come talk to you.” She stepped into the room, her high heels clicking against the tile floor. “I’m Violet Kramer, a reporter for the Missoula Daily News. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“What did Mr. McGraw tell you?” Hannah remembered Austin’s grandmother talking about the reporter.
“He told me about the narrow escape you had early this morning and thought I might be interested in your story. He felt a story in the paper would drive home the point of who you are to certain people in Chicago. Do you have time to talk?”
“Yes, I do.” Maybe telling her story would help her decide what to do with the rest of her life. Hannah turned to Caroline and hugged the older woman. “Goodbye. I’m going to get a ride with Gil after I talk with Violet.”
Hannah moved to Austin’s bed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, Austin. Don’t hate me,” she whispered close to his ear.
As she left the room, he shifted on the bed, his brow furrowed for a few seconds, but his eyes didn’t open. Seeing him with an IV attached only hammered home what she had caused.
“Thanks, Gil, for bringing me back to the ranch. Are you sure you don’t mind waiting for me to pack and make sure the house is all right for the Taylors when they come back tomorrow? I’d rather stay in town this evening and take the first bus to Billings tomorrow.”
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