Hiding Out At The Circle C

by Jill Shalvis

  "You can run, but you can't hide. I'll find you."

  That was when she'd met Nellie. Haley chose to believe it had been fate, for she'd needed to get safely away and think. She could have tried to find her mother. Last she knew, Isabella Whitfield had been in Manhattan, but Haley knew she'd have been far from welcome there. And wouldn't this mess she'd gotten herself into just prove to her mother once and for all what a failure she was?

  But to go with this stranger and his wife simply because she'd liked the woman on sight? Because she'd looked into Nellie's eyes and felt a kinship she couldn't explain?

  "Haley? You ready?" Nellie asked.

  It seemed too easy. Too good to be true. To just disappear for a while in the Colorado Rockies and pretend to be a housekeeper. Suspicion was second nature to her. "That's it? Let's go? Just like that, you're going to take me to your home?"

  Cam looked at the kind, warm Nellie, exchanged an indecipherable glance, then turned back to Haley with an easy shrug. "Yep."

  The man wasn't harmless, despite his light and easy manner and smooth, charming voice. No man with eyes that full of blatant sexuality could be harmless. And Haley didn't need a seismograph to register that smile as ground-shaking. "Aren't you going to ask me for my references?" she questioned, expecting it all to be a trick, or a trap. "Or if I can even cook for God's sake?"

  His smile was slow, wide and devastating. "Darlin', if you don't burn water, you can cook better than Nellie, here. And we'll be mighty grateful for that, believe me." He chuckled when Nellie jammed an elbow into his stomach. He rubbed the spot with his hand.

  "What if I'm a mass murderer, or on the run?" Perverse of her to push her luck, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

  "Are you?" he asked, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. He didn't look overly concerned.

  "No. Not a mass murderer, that is." She gave an involuntary shudder as the bloody image of her team flashed through her mind. God, would she ever be able to forget? Or sleep again? At that moment, she doubted it, but the first and foremost thing had become survival. Even a couple of hours ago, she'd been ready to give up, to let them catch her. But no longer.

  She wanted to live.

  She wanted to catch them.

  Cameron looked at her, and though he could have no idea what was going on in her head, she saw a rush of compassion in his eyes.

  "As long as you're not wanted by the law," he said easily, "I don't have a problem. Nellie doesn't, either."

  Well, she was wanted, but evasion of that statement came shamefully easy. Anything would have, to protect her neck. Literally. "You trust your wife's judgment, then."

  He nearly choked with laughter and her eyes narrowed as she took a step backward. With a small giggle, Nellie hurried to explain. "No, Haley, this isn't the husband I told you about. Cam's my brother-in-law. Jason couldn't come. He … well, he fell off a roof," she finished lamely, watching as Haley took another step away. "It's really not as crazy as you think."

  "No, it's not," Cameron said, that insufferable grin in place. "Besides, everyone knows Zach is the crazy one, not me or Jason."

  "Cam!" Nellie sighed and shook her head as she took Haley's hand, pulling her forward. "Please, don't misunderstand. We all live together on the ranch, and we need a housekeeper, just like I told you. Desperately."

  What were her choices? She couldn't call the police, not while she was the main suspect in the EVS bombing. They'd send her back and she'd face trial— The thought made her stomach flop. She needed a place to hide, a place where she'd be safe until she could figure out what to do without getting herself killed. "Why me?"

  "Because I like you," Nellie said, lightly squeezing her hand.

  Just that easy gesture nearly undid Haley. When was the last time she'd been offered unconditional friendship? Affection? Been accepted for a reason other than her brain?

  Nellie, still holding her hand, added, "And because I'm living in a houseful of men who don't know squat about what it's like to be female. Something between us clicked from that first moment, Haley. I felt it, and I know you did, too, or you wouldn't even be considering this. It you don't come, I'll worry about you. You don't want that."

  "You don't even know me." How in the world could these people be so trusting? Didn't they know what kind of world they lived in? Of course not, they lived in Colorado. On some little ranch where nothing penetrated. It sounded … lovely, irresistible. Safe. And when it came right down to it, what other choices did she have? None. "Okay," she breathed.

  "Okay?" Nellie repeated, rubbing her belly, looking tired. "You'll come, then?"

  "I'll come."

  Nellie laughed once, then hugged her tightly. Feeling awkward, uncertain, Haley patted her back, meeting Cam's eyes over Nellie's shoulder. They were warm, easy and friendly. Relieved. Haley didn't want to think about that—how a complete stranger could care so much. She pulled away from the unaccustomed contact and shoved her hands into her pockets. It was easy to be nice to Nellie because she liked her. It wouldn't be so easy, however, to be nice to Cameron Reeves. She most definitely didn't want to like him. She couldn't afford to.

  It didn't matter; she wouldn't be staying long.

  "I'm so glad you'll come," Nellie whispered, grabbing her hand. They walked then, in companionable silence, weeding their way through the hordes of people, and Haley was thankful for the few moments of quiet.

  No one could have followed her. Maybe whoever was terrorizing her would assume she'd been killed in the explosion. Relief at that thought made her giddy. Until she remembered her messages.

  They stopped at the exit. Cold air blasted through the opening. She glanced up in surprise as Cam stripped off his denim jacket. He held it out, going still when she backed from him. She'd accept his job offer because she didn't have a choice but she wouldn't accept his charity.

  "Take the jacket," he said easily. "It's not going to bite."

  No, but he might.

  "It's cold out," Nellie added, belting her own sweater high over the bulge of baby.

  It had been hot in South America. Haley hadn't thought of this. "I'll be all right." She felt the flood of heat fill her face as they both looked at her. Cam's features were purposely inscrutable, but she felt sure he hid pity—and she hated that.

  Nellie didn't manage to hide a thing and she looked at her, worry and concern evident.

  "Take the jacket, Haley," Cam said. "She'll hound you about it, otherwise. It's easier this way." Then, without waiting for a response, he wrapped it around her shoulders, holding it while she slid her arms into the sleeves. She felt surrounded by warmth, softness and an unfamiliar-yet-heavenly scent.

  Cam pushed her gently out the swinging glass doors. The sky loomed dark, and Haley realized she had absolutely no sense of time.

  They headed across the street to the parking structure, Cam attentively holding on to Nellie, who seemed tired. "Not too much farther, Nel," he murmured, craning his neck to check for cars.

  Nearly across the street, all three of them stopped in surprised shock when, with a loud squealing of tires, a taxi gunned its way directly toward them.

  Haley froze, capable of only one thought: They found me and now they're going to kill two innocent people to get me!

  Cam muttered a ripe oath as the taxi swerved recklessly away, spraying them with gravel. Immediately he pushed back Nellie's hair to see her face. "You okay, Nel?"

  "Fine. Idiot!" Nellie shook her head. "He's going to kill someone, or at least give them heart failure."

  Haley stood still, shaking, as both Nellie and Cameron shrugged it off.

  "Haley?"

  She blinked, realizing that Cam had taken her shoulders. Her heart slammed in her chest. "It was just a taxi," she said dazedly.

  "Yes," he said, concern deepening his voice.

  One warm hand slid up to cup the back of her neck and she knew by the tightening of his jaw that he could feel her trembling like a frightened rabbit. She struggled for contr
ol, but found herself babbling helplessly. "Just a stupid taxi driver in a hurry."

  "That's right," he said in a low, soothing voice. "Just a guy trying to make a buck. And he's gone. He can't hurt you."

  Because his kind voice threatened to release the emotions she held so tight and deep inside, Haley shoved his hand away. "I'm okay."

  His lips curved, as if he was undisturbed by her abruptness, approved of her toughness.

  "Come on," Nellie said, still shaking her head. "Let's get out of the middle of the street."

  Haley let them pull her along, but she wasn't so far gone that she missed the single, worried look exchanged between brother and sister-in-law.

  At Cam's truck, a brown-and-white puppy with ears bigger than his body jumped up in the window, wiggling and barking happily.

  "This is Max," Cam told her, gently pushing the animal aside, after letting it lick his face. "Hey, Max, calm down, would ya?" He bent low to the puppy and whispered conspiratorially, "I've told you before, never let a female see how eager you are." Fondly, he rubbed the dog's ears.

  Nellie petted the puppy, too, enduring more of the happy, ecstatic kisses, then crawled into the back seat, claiming exhaustion. "I'm going to take a little nap," she said, yawning and rubbing her stomach. "Cam, just carry me in when we get there."

  "But Nel, I'll break my back."

  "Oh, shut up," she muttered good-naturedly.

  Haley hesitated, her gaze frozen on the bouncing dog.

  "He won't bite," Cam assured her.

  "What kind is he?"

  "A purebred mutt." He grinned. "Just stick out your hand so he can sniff it."

  At the moment, her fear of what she'd just left behind overruled her fear of Max. There'd definitely not been much time in her life for dogs—if any. She cautiously held out a hand. The little guy wriggled hopefully, then nailed her with his large, puppy-dog eyes. They were the warmest, biggest eyes she'd ever seen. Something inside her softened. "Hi there," she said, reaching for him. She jumped when his warm, wet tongue licked her fingers. "Max seems an ostentatious name for such a little thing."

  "It's a nickname for Maximum-Amount-of-Money-Ever-Spent-on-a-Dog," Cameron said wryly. "Vet bills. Lots of them. Don't ask." He held open the door for her and she climbed into the front. Max settled in the back, on top of the already groggy Nellie.

  "Find your own spot, buddy," she mumbled. But she let the puppy stretch out on her.

  Cameron started the truck, maneuvering out of the lot while Haley waited tensely for him to bombard her with questions.

  They left the city and the lights far behind as they headed down a narrow highway toward the black mountains in the distance. In the back seat Nellie's breathing evened out. So did Max's. Cam adjusted the heater to nice and low, aimed at Haley's feet, which were icy cold in her meager flats. With a flick of his wrist, the interior of the truck was filled with soft, country blues.

  She was in a strange place, in a stranger's truck, heading toward some unknown ranch house in the middle of nowhere. Panic filled her for a moment as the realization hit her. She must be insane!

  No, not insane, just desperate. And no matter what happened, it would be better than what would happen to her if she gave up. Again, her gut twisted painfully at the thought of her lifelong work—all destroyed, gone forever.

  She was going to a place where no one knew her past, or what she'd done. She could just be Haley Williams for a while—whoever she was—and that was a surprising relief.

  She nearly hit her head on the roof of the truck, when after ten full minutes of silence, Cam said, "You can relax a little bit, Haley. You'll snap in two if you pull yourself any tighter than you are."

  It was true. She gazed out the window. The mountains were getting closer. "I'm fine."

  "Are you?" He shot her a look. "You don't look fine. Are you in pain?"

  Oh, great. So the man could read minds as well as look sexy as sin. "No," she lied; slowly, surreptitiously, bringing her hands from her lap to her stomach to press away the nagging ache. "Of course not."

  His eyes slid over the movement, but he didn't comment, just drove with that quiet confidence that could slowly drive her crazy. Why didn't he ask her questions? Demand answers? She would. Anyone would. Finally, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she exclaimed, "Go ahead! Just get it over with. Ask me!"

  His eyes didn't leave the dark, narrow road, but his lips twitched. "I'm not going to ask you anything."

  She wasn't the crazy one, she decided. He was. "Humph."

  He smiled. "What sorts of things should I be asking you?"

  "Lots of things." She looked at him. "Like where I came from. What I do for a living."

  He went quiet for a moment. "Do you really want me to ask you those things?"

  "No!" she snapped. "Oh, just forget it." She sighed, shifted, and tried not to notice how wonderfully warm his jacket felt, how good it smelled.

  "Why would it matter to me what you've done for a living, as long as you can take care of cooking and cleaning my house?" he asked curiously.

  She'd been taught manners at an incredibly young age so she managed to catch herself before she sputtered at his ridiculous question. "Because you've hired me. You should care what I've done."

  His eyes met hers then, and for the first time she realized how dark and melting their brown depths were. "What if I trust you?" he asked.

  Haley thought of how the system she'd created had allowed someone to kill innocent people instead of save them. Thought of the pager that sat in her purse, ready to terrify her again at a moment's notice. The truth was, she hadn't deserved to get away alive. Yet, this man sitting next to her, this stranger, trusted her. "You should be more careful with that trust," she said carefully. "You could get hurt."

  Something flickered in his eyes, then was gone. "Not me."

  But he had been hurt, she realized with sudden insight. At some point, he'd been badly hurt. And no matter how casual he appeared, he would only let her get away with so much. He was not stupid—not by a long shot. "You don't even know if I can cook."

  "I'll take my chances."

  She muttered under her breath about the lackadaisical attitude of Midwestern cowboys, but he ignored the verbal attack and seemed amused.

  "Why, darlin', you sound like you care what happens to me," he drawled.

  "Of course, I do. You're writing the paycheck."

  He laughed and shook his head. And drove on into the night never once bothering her about her past.

  * * *

  Hands propped behind his head, Cam stared at the ceiling. Having trouble sleeping hadn't been a problem in a long time but it was late and here he lay, still trying to drift off.

  Both Jason and Zach had accepted Haley easily. Especially since, he'd noted with amusement, she'd managed to charm both of them without trying. He found it vastly interesting that she didn't use that same charm on him. In fact, she did everything in her power to make sure he didn't notice her.

  It wasn't working.

  Oh, he knew he had no business hiring her for the sort of work he needed done without knowing if she was even fully capable. Cooking the hearty meals necessary for him and his brothers would be a challenge. So would keeping up the big house. But something about the wary, vulnerable-looking Haley Williams had appealed to his soft spot, which was never far beneath the surface.

  Maybe it had been the pride and intelligence—two of his favorite qualities—he'd seen shimmering in her eyes. It didn't matter what her past was, she needed help in some way or other, and he could provide it.

  That was all. It had nothing to do with her being a woman.

  Oh, he loved women—all kinds. But it didn't mean he could be serious about them. He had done that once and would never do it again.

  Never.

  There was more to life than pain, stress and hard work. Much more. He liked to take things easy now. Enjoy and Savor—that was his motto. That was why he tinkered with making furniture instea
d of working in Denver at the stock brokerage, as he had for years. It was why he let his brothers run the ranch that was his. Some considered it a lazy way of life for a man just short of his thirty-second birthday, but not Cam. Thanks to a lesson learned the hard way, he knew just how precious life could be—and he intended to get the most out of it this time around.

  Which meant all he wanted was to help Haley in any way he could, and enjoy her hopefully excellent cooking.

  Nothing else.

  But the truth of it was, he couldn't forget the wariness in her eyes after she'd gotten off the plane, or her terror during the taxi incident. Or how gallantly she'd tried to shrug them off. She might think she'd fooled him, but beneath her rough-and-tough exterior, she was scared.

  And he wanted to know why. Just to protect his family, of course. For no way would he allow himself to become personally involved.

  * * *

  Haley lay in her bed, far from the main house in a tiny, but lovely cottage, hopelessly wide-awake in spite of her exhaustion. Max was sprawled on her feet—a warm little bundle of fur. He'd insisted on coming with her, though she didn't know why. She hadn't encouraged him in any way, yet he'd followed her out of the truck. Nellie had asked if she minded, and what could she say? Then Nellie told her that Max had been found abused and abandoned, and that he still wasn't entirely comfortable around men. He also didn't like to sleep alone.

  Well, that made two of them, on both counts. Haley had never been comfortable with men, either. Or dogs. Mostly because she'd never been around them much. Her mother had loved the male species, but had thought dogs nasty beasts—not that either attitude would have affected Haley much at boarding school. Dogs—and men—hadn't been allowed.

  She lifted her head and peeked at the sleeping Max. The little guy seemed harmless enough. He was even sort of cute, in a puppy sort of way.

  Her stomach felt like fire, as a combination of nerves and acid burned the already painful ulcer. Hugging a pillow to soften the pain, she rolled onto her side and stared out the window into the night.

  Colorado was the most incredible, magnificent place she'd ever seen—and she'd seen plenty. The rolling hills, the tall, noisy trees she knew to be aspens, the vast black sky, the isolation … it all appealed to her. Amazingly enough, just looking at it seemed to lessen the ache in her stomach.