Cowboy Protector

by Margaret Daley

  Scanning the house with a path cleared to the deck, the sheriff combed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t blame you with no one here tonight, especially with all that’s happened to you.” He looked at her. “You’re a survivor, Hannah. Oh, I’m sorry. You probably want to go by Jen now.”

  She tilted her head and thought a moment, but every time she tried to come to a firm decision, she couldn’t. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t responded to that name in years. Trained myself not to. That won’t be easy to undo.”

  “All I can say is you’re one brave, gusty lady to testify against a gunrunner and put him away. A lot of people wouldn’t have gotten involved.”

  She sent him a smile, not sure what to say to his compliment. She’d never thought of herself as either brave or gusty—just surviving from one day to the next. “I hope you’ll come in while I pack.”

  “Sure. I’ll even check the house for you, but I have to say Rene and Max are so dependable. If they say they’re gonna take care of everything at the ranch, they did.”

  Good. She didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. That was only reinforced when she stepped through the door into the foyer. Her gaze immediately riveted to the place where the deputy had lain. Everywhere she peered a memory was ignited. She trained her attention to the small space right in front of her and marched toward her bedroom.

  But the second she entered her bedroom she couldn’t look away from her bed. She’d managed to hold herself together through getting the help the deputies and Austin had needed, through all the questions about what had transpired in the house, through the long ride to Missoula and the hospital, praying the whole way that Austin didn’t die because of her. They hadn’t talked because after he’d shot Devon and collapsed, he’d slipped in and out of consciousness. Then he’d been airlifted to the hospital. By the time she had arrived, Austin had already gone into surgery.

  But staring at the bed, she relived every second of the horror when Devon had trapped her on the bed and waved the gun in her face. The memories sent a tidal wave of emotions through her body all at once. She slid to the floor, her legs no longer able to support her. Clasping her shins, she drew herself into a ball, sobs attacking her, shredding her composure.

  Why, Lord? Why did it happen to me?

  No answers came, only tears. She cried for herself. She cried for Austin and what could have been if circumstances had been different. She even cried for Devon, a man so driven by hate that he’d come after her.

  A rap at her door seeped into her mind. Still sitting on the floor, she jerked up and twisted about. “Yes?”

  “Are you all right?” the sheriff asked. “Do you need any help?”

  “No, I won’t be much longer.” She swiped at the tears flowing down her face and struggled to her feet. Wobbling, she clutched the dresser close by and steadied herself.

  “Okay. I’m going to the barn to talk with Max. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Hannah moved fast, slinging clothes into her luggage, and was outside on the deck twenty minutes later after doing a walk-through so her mind would be at peace about Misty returning to a house that didn’t show the violence that had occurred in it. The sheriff had been right about Max and Rene. They’d done an excellent job.

  On the ride back into Sweet Creek, Gil talked nonstop about how well Max and Austin’s men had taken care of the ranch and any cleanup after the house was processed. In town the sheriff dropped Hannah off at the motel not too far from the bus station. When she finally collapsed on the bed in her room, she dug into her pocket for her cell. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she still had one more thing she needed to do, something she’d put off until she was alone with plenty of time.

  Punching in the number she would never forget, even after five years, she tried to compose what she would say. But the second she heard her mother’s voice, she burst into tears, saying, “Mama, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Jen? What are you doing calling? They said you couldn’t.” Fear sounded in her mother’s voice.

  Wiping her shirtsleeve across her eyes, Hannah sniffed, trying to control her crying enough to have a conversation. “Devon Madison is dead. Cullen died in prison last month. I’m free. I’m coming home.” Her arms ached to hold her mother and brother. “How’s Josh?”

  “Okay. He’s in college. This is his last year. He’s studying to be an engineer. He’s…” Her mom’s words came to a choking halt, her sobs renewing Hannah’s.

  And that was okay. There would be time later to talk. All the time in the world now.

  A gust of wind swept down the street, chilling Jen as she neared Mama’s Diner. The name alone produced a sweet memory of her conversation with her mother two nights ago. Yesterday she’d visited the U.S. Marshal’s office and talked with Micah to straighten out all the necessary paperwork, wiping away all traces of Hannah Williams and any other version of her out there. And then she’d called Saul and arranged to see him at the hospital today.

  After talking with her mom at length, she knew she had to use her birth name—Jen Davis. And after spending over a day of thinking of herself as Jen again, it hadn’t been as hard as she’d thought it would be.

  But every time she thought of Austin, her heart cracked even further open. She was hoping time and distance would help her heal because the hurt ran deep—a different kind of hurt from when she’d left California. She’d seen and tasted what having a real family was like. As Jen she would begin yet again a new life—one without Austin or Misty, but at least she would have her mother and brother to help. And the Lord.

  Maybe one day she’d find someone who would accept Jen Davis.

  For today she would have breakfast at Mama’s Diner one last time before going to the hospital nearby and seeing Saul.

  For the first time she entered the diner without checking the street behind her, but she couldn’t stop herself from scanning the people sitting at the tables and in the booths. Some habits would be hard to break, she thought and pulled off her gloves. She searched for Olivia but didn’t see her. Had she moved on already? She’d hoped she was still here to tell her what had happened. It still felt strange for her to share openly what had occurred, but she picked up the Missoula newspaper today at the motel and saw the article Violet had written about her plight. Seeing it in black and white made it real. It was over. No more hiding. Running.

  She nodded toward another waitress she knew and pointed toward where she had usually sat the month before. The young lady signaled okay and brought a cup of coffee as Jen removed her coat and took a seat.

  “It looks like business as usual. How’s things going since I left?” Jen flipped open the menu and decided to order something different. After all, she was a different person now.

  “Good. What would you like?”

  “I’ll take blueberry pancakes and orange juice. Is Olivia still working here?”

  The young lady shook her head. “She’s been gone about three weeks or so. You’re the second person asking about Olivia today.”

  “I am? Who else?”

  The waitress pointed to a man in a booth at the front of the diner. A strikingly handsome man with blond hair sat hunched over a mug of coffee, staring at something on the table. A photo? Was that Olivia’s husband?

  After the young lady left, Jen stood and threaded her way through the crowd until she came to stop next to the man. He peered up at her, his eyes the bluest color—like a body of water that could go on and on.

  “I’m Han—Jen Davis. I understand you’ve been asking about Olivia.”

  “Yes.” He slid the photo over to her. “I’m Ford Jensen. This is a picture of my wife. Do you know her? Know where she went?”

  The photo was of Olivia and the man sitting at the booth. Both were smiling, his arm slung over her shoulder. “Not exactly. I’ve been out of town. I knew she was moving. She was hoping to get a job working with children.” She wouldn’t say anything to Olivia’s husband about th
e baby. That needed to come from Olivia. “When I knew her, she went by the name of Olivia Jarrod. Maybe that’ll help you find her.” Because she believed Olivia and her husband needed to talk at the very least—for their baby’s sake if for nothing else.

  “She didn’t tell you where she was moving?”

  “No, but I got the impression it was a small town.”

  “How is she?”

  Hurting, but again she didn’t think it was her place to tell him. “She was doing fine, but I always got the impression she was—sad.” She started to make her way back to her table, stopped and added, “I hope you find her.”

  “Me, too.” He dropped his head and resumed studying the photograph.

  “It’s good to see you. I’m so glad you called. I didn’t want you to leave Billings without seeing me.”

  Saul’s pale, battered face tore at Jen’s composure. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

  He reached a hand toward hers on the bed next to him. “I’m the one who should apologize to you. I think I told them where to find you. My memory is still fuzzy about what exactly happened.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. I never imagined anyone would find you and do that to you because of me. I…” Her own tears welled into her throat, making it difficult to speak.

  “We could go on and on apologizing to each other. Let’s agree to forgive and forget it. Okay?”

  Nodding, she swallowed several times. “The doctor said you should make a full recovery and should be able to go home soon.”

  “Yeah, this body has at least another ten thousand miles on it.” He attempted a smile that faded instantly. “I can’t believe what happened to you at the Taylors’ ranch. For that matter before. To think I know someone in the Witness Protection Program.”

  “Not anymore. I’m out of it now. That’s why I’m going back to California tomorrow.” She’d spent a half an hour the day before filling Saul in on what happened to her at Austin’s, at least the part about the thugs coming after her, then she’d promised Saul she would be by to see him.

  “Did you enjoy working for the Taylors? I never got around to asking you that with all you told me.”

  “Yes. Misty was adorable and Caroline was kind and generous.” Jen sat in the chair next to his hospital bed.

  “And Austin?”

  “I’m alive because of him.” She dropped her gaze to her lap, not wanting him to read what was probably visible in her eyes when she talked about Austin. He wouldn’t let it be if he knew she loved Austin.

  “Hannah,” he said with a tsk and a shake of the head.

  “I’m going by Jen Davis now. That’s my real name. Jennifer Ann Davis.” If she said it enough she would really believe it was real—not some dream that she would wake up from.

  “My, that’s got to be confusing. How did you keep it all straight?”

  “By locking that past life out of my thoughts. I was usually successful.”

  “But not always?”

  “No.”

  “Is that how you think you’re gonna get over Austin when you go back to California?”

  She blinked at the question. “I’m that easy to read?”

  “Yep.” He tapped his temple. “You can’t keep much from these sharp eyes. Even when you worked for me, I could see tragedy had touched you, but I wasn’t gonna pry. If you wanted to tell me, you would.”

  “Then why are you prying now?”

  “Because Austin is a good man and he deserves someone like you to love.”

  “It’s too late for that. I kept who I was from him. He got shot because of me. His family could have gotten caught up in it all. Thankfully they didn’t but—”

  “Hold it. Have you talked with Austin about this?”

  “The night before the shootout at the Triple T I told him about who I was and why I was using a fake name. You should have seen the devastating look he gave me. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Have you talked with him since then?”

  She shook her head. “We were too busy fighting for our lives and then he was flown to the Missoula hospital.”

  “Not afterward in the hospital?”

  “Well, no. It’s best I move on. I’ve caused so much pain, even for you.”

  “Maybe the joy you’ve bought outweighs that pain. I think you need to talk to Austin after he’s had some time to assimilate what you told him that night. That was a lot to take in all at once. I felt overwhelmed after your call yesterday evening.”

  “I don’t know how he can forgive me for everything that’s happened.”

  “There’s only one way to find out. Ask him.” Saul’s sharp gaze assessed her. “Or are you so used to denying yourself that it’s easier to run away than face Austin one last time?”

  Later that evening as she laid out what she was going to wear on her trip the next day to California, she couldn’t get Saul’s question out of her mind. Was that what she was doing? Was she running away? She’d become quite good at that.

  As hard as it was, she thought back to what Devon had done to her. She had to forgive him because he’d ruled her every action for five long years and she didn’t want him to for another second. She had to let go totally if she was going to be truly free. If the Lord could forgive her sins, then she could Devon and Cullen. She’d started the process back in the hospital chapel. Now she completed it. The thought of letting go of the past, like a prisoner being released from captivity, lifted a burden from her. Peace settled all around her. The taste of freedom made her want so much more.

  Maybe she could fly to California and get reacquainted with her mother and brother. Then after some time, she could come back to Montana and Austin would at least see her, give her a chance to tell him how much she loved him and was so sorry for everything that had happened.

  Maybe he would forgive her.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

  When she checked the peephole, her heartbeat began to race.

  Austin.

  How did he find—Saul. She should have figured Saul would call Austin.

  With her hand on the knob, she slowly turned it. She’d left without a word except a note that she had hastily scribbled on a pad in his office right before she’d left that last time. She said she didn’t need the money owed her.

  That’s it. That’s why he’s here. It’s about the back wages.

  When the door swung open to reveal him, Jen sucked in a deep breath and held it. He looked wonderful to her, and yet the past week had taken a toll on him. He sported a sling and she imagined under his coat and shirt a bandaged shoulder. But the worst was the look in his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept in days. Maybe he hadn’t with all that had to be done at the ranch.

  He waved a piece of paper in her face, anger slashing his features. “Is this your way of saying goodbye? I don’t want your money. I want you.”

  Her eyes widened. “What did you say?”

  “I had at least expected you to be at the ranch even if you didn’t stay at the hospital.” He moved past her into the room. “We have unfinished business.” He pivoted toward her. “And it isn’t going to be done long distance or with a note.”

  Anger still poured off him, but its edges softened as his gaze skimmed over her, taking all of her in. She wanted to melt into his arms, but she held herself taut, a few feet from him. “After all that happened I didn’t think you’d want to see me. You could have been killed because of me.”

  He took a step toward her. “And you could have been killed because of me. Remember the fire in the barn.”

  “But the night before when I told you who I really was you were so mad at me.”

  “I was in shock. Trying to process what you’d told me. And, yes, I was angry at first. I love you and wanted you to trust me.”

  “I did. I’d never told a soul who I was. That was a big step for me.”

 
“Yeah, I know. I figured that out in the middle of another sleepless night. I’d planned to talk to you about it then everything blew up in our faces.” He quirked one corner of his mouth, no anger visible now in his face.

  She took a step toward him. Inches separated them. Peering up at him, she kept her arms at her side. “I haven’t gotten a chance to thank you for saving my life yet again.”

  “I still love you.” He wrapped her in his embrace. “We could keep a running tally of who saved who, but personally I’m hoping we live to a ripe old age together with no more near-death experiences. In the past month I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime.”

  “Live together?”

  His grin broadened. “That’s my roundabout way of asking you to marry me, Jen Davis. Will you?”

  She nuzzled closer, conscious of his injured shoulder. “Yes! Yes! I can’t think of anything more perfect than marrying the man I love.”

  “It’s about time you said it.” He lowered his mouth and claimed hers in a deep kiss that sealed their future.

  Dear Reader,

  I had so much fun with this book. Being a part of a group of authors who write connecting stories is a challenge—a big puzzle that I need to solve. I love working puzzles, and that’s what appeals to me when I write a continuity story. There is a lot of work involved, making sure the books are linked seamlessly. I hope you enjoyed the third installment in this Love Inspired Suspense continuity series.

  I love hearing from readers. You can contact me at margaretdaley@gmail.com or at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101. You can also learn more about my books at www.margaretdaley.com. I have a quarterly newsletter that you can sign up for on my Web site or you can enter my monthly drawings by signing my guest book on the Web site.

  Best wishes,

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION