by Tanya Jolie
Holly shoved her back against the wall, and when Becca collapsed she kicked her over and over as she ranted, “I don’t care if you sign or you die, you stupid little bitch. Either way, I get everything.”
Huddling with her arms over her head, Becca didn’t move until she heard her bedroom door slam. Painfully she hauled herself up and reached under the covers again. She then hobbled over to the other side of her bed. With shaking fingers she pulled back the mattress cover, and reached into the hollow space she made, and began pulling out what was going to save her life.
Chapter Two
December snows had blanketed the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, adding a crisp white stillness to the rambling pasturelands of Ghost Lake Ranch. Even in winter the Boone brothers worked hard to keep their herds healthy and thriving, and maintain their reputation as producers of some of the finest beef and dairy cattle in Montana.
“Damn shame about Bill Carson,” Ethan Boone said as he helped Chris unload the feed order from the pickup. “Never thought he’d be fool enough get cornered by that loco stallion.”
“Yeah.” Chris tossed the last heavy sack into the bin. “I might go up to the Carson house tomorrow and seeing how Rebecca’s doing.”
“You mean, now that Big Daddy’s gone, you finally get to make your move on little bashful Becca,” their youngest brother, Caleb, said as he joined them.
Chris shook his head. “Something’s not right about this.” He told his brothers about what Jimmy had said, and saw the look they exchanged. “Now hold on. There’s nothing wrong with Rebecca. She’s just shy, is all.”
Caleb grinned and opened his mouth, and then caught Ethan’s stern look and backed up a step. “Yeah, I think I’ll go check on Pete.” He hurried off toward the stables.
Ethan came around the truck and leaned against the back end next to Chris. “We’ve all heard the talk around town about Becca. I know you care about her, but it’s been a long time since high school. People change.” He hesitated before he added, “They wouldn’t be sending her off unless there was good reason for it.”
“I know Rebecca,” Chris insisted. “She’s not crazy.”
“All right, then maybe you should go see her.” Ethan glanced at the Jeep coming up the drive toward the main house and grinned. “Ah, here’s the love of my life. We’re going for a ride out to the pond to see if it’s froze over enough for Jessa to ice skate. You want to tag along?”
“About as much as you want me to.” Chris nodded in the opposite direction. “I’m on fence check this week, so I’m riding out. Don’t wait dinner on me.”
“Stop by the tractor barn for me,” Ethan told him. “Hastings was supposed to deliver that round baler he repaired by noon. If it’s not there, call me. I’m not paying for him to store it over the holidays.”
Chris went into the stables and saddled Casper, the big white gelding who was most comfortable carrying his weight on long rides. He took the time to pack his saddlebags with snacks for both of them before he rode out to the nearest boundary fence. From there he rode parallel to it as he inspected the condition of the wire and posts.
Fence checking always bored his brothers, but Chris liked the solitary rides. It gave him time to think, and with all the troubling news about the Carsons, he had plenty on his mind.
Although the snow cover was light, and Casper kept up a steady pace, it still took Chris almost an hour to reach the tractor barn, where the Boones kept the heavy machinery they used to till, plant and maintain the grazing pastures for their cattle herds. Three times the size of their next largest outbuilding, the red-roofed barn housed most of their heavy equipment as well as the cylindrical hay bales they put out during the long cold winter for their hungry herds.
“Here we are, Cas.” Chris dismounted outside the barn door, and took a few minutes to water the horse and feed him some snacks before he unlatched the enormous doors and walked inside. The old barn usually smelled of hay and machinery, but today Chris picked up the faintest scent of wildflowers.
“Yeah, and there’ll be a big pot of coffee waiting, too,” he muttered under his breath. He’d just realized he’d forgotten the thermos of hot, dark brew that he usually brought with him on long rides.
The round baler stood a few feet within, its chassis still crusted with ice from the trip over from Hastings’s repair shop. Chris walked around it, and then stopped in his tracks when he saw the door to the cab hanging open.
“This latch better not be broken.” He climbed onto the side of the baler and took hold of the handle.
“It’s not,” a soft, sweet voice said from behind him. “I forgot to close it.”
#
Becca managed a smile as Chris turned to stare at her, but it took a little longer to find her voice again. She’d forgotten just how tall he was, and the intensity of his crystal blue eyes, and how his thick, dark hair framed his handsome face. He wasn’t the boy with the easy grin from her yearbook page anymore, though; Christopher Boone had grown into a ruggedly handsome man.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said as he stepped down. “Do you remember me, from high school? Becca Carson?”
“Yeah, I do.” He pushed back his Stetson as he peered down at her. “Rebecca Rose, what are you doing in our tractor barn?”
“I needed a place to stay, and I didn’t think you would mind.” When he didn’t reply, she lost the last shred of her courage and snatched up her bag. “Okay, I’ll just go then. Sorry.”
“Stop.” Chris got between her and the barn door. “Did you run away from home?”
She stared down at the old straw under her boots. “If you’d let me stay in the barn for a couple days, I won’t be any trouble. You won’t even know I’m here.”
Chris studied her face. “There’s no heat or food.”
“I brought a thermal blanket, and some stuff to eat.” She touched her bag. “I was in Girl Scouts. I’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh.” He folded his arms. “There’s no bathroom, Girl Scout.”
“I can go in the woods.” She grimaced. “Actually I already have.”
He shook his head slowly. “Rebecca Rose, I can’t let you stay here. You’ll freeze to death overnight.”
He was looking at her the way everyone did, and she couldn’t stand it, not from him. “I’m not crazy.” She lifted her wobbling chin. “And you don’t have to worry about me. Really. I can keep warm in the hay. I can do this.” She blinked, and felt two big, hot tears slide down her cheeks. “Please, Chris. I have nowhere else to go.”
He held out his hand. “Come here to me, Rebecca.”
She shuffled forward, too afraid to look at his face now, and then his wonderful smell filled her head. This was Chris, the boy she’d loved for so long she couldn’t remember when he hadn’t been in her heart. She’d dreamed of this moment for years, and suddenly she was sobbing and running to him.
He caught her in his strong arms, lifting her off her feet as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s all right, baby. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.”
Chris carried her over to big wooden crate, and sat down with her in his lap. For a long time he simply held her and let her cry against his shoulder, his big hands stroking her hair and shoulders and back. When her sobs finally dwindled away, he tipped up her chin and used a folded red bandana to mop up her tears. She couldn’t help wincing as he touched her sore cheek. Chris turned her face toward the light to examine the swollen spot.
His jaw tightened. “Who hit you?”
“It’s nothing.” Becca saw she had a death grip on the front of his jacket, and slowly took her hands away to fold them in her lap. “I don’t want to get you involved in my mess.”
“You’re in my barn, sitting on my lap, and crying on my shoulder. Baby, I am all kinds of involved.” Chris skimmed a fingertip along the curve of her bottom lip. “I swear, you’re ten times prettier since the last time I saw you.”
“Graduation day.” Becca twi
sted her fingers. “You asked to me sign your yearbook.”
“You said you left yours at home.” He brushed a damp strand of hair away from her cheek. “Then you reached up and kissed me on the cheek, and ran off. I almost came after you.”
Becca felt a burning flush crawl up her neck. “Why?”
“So I could kiss you back.” His vivid blue eyes shifted to her mouth.
She forgot to breathe for a moment. “So why didn’t you? Come after me, I mean.” Before he could answer she shook her head. “I know, it was my Dad. Everyone knew how strict he was, never letting me date or have a social life.”
“I always wondered why,” Chris admitted. “Wasn’t like you were a wild thing.”
“My mother was. She ran off with another man when I was just a baby.” She sighed. “When I got older, I started looking more like her. The more I did, the stricter Dad became – and you know how intimidating he was. Once he told me he’d rather see me dead than let me become a tramp like her.”
Anger flared in Chris’s eyes, but his touch remained gentle. “I’m so sorry.”
“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t chase me down at graduation,” she admitted. “Even a kiss on the cheek would have made Dad go ballistic.”
“That’s the other problem.” He spanned her jaw with his hand. “I didn’t want to kiss your cheek, Rebecca Rose. I wanted those soft, sweet lips.”
“I’ve never been kissed,” she whispered.
“I know, baby,” he murmured back, his mouth only a breath from hers now. “I’d like to be your first, if you’ll let me.”
Tingling heat spread out through Becca’s middle, and she gripped his jacket again. “Oh, yes, Chris. Oh, please.”
His lips brushed over hers, hard and yet soft, and so gentle she wanted to moan. He kissed each corner of her mouth, and the little dip under her nose, and rubbed her lips with his until she parted them for him.
Nothing she’d imagined could have prepared her for the shocking, sexy feel of his tongue first touching hers, and then stroking in and out of her mouth. He tasted deliciously of mint and apple, and closed his strong arms around her as he took the kiss deeper. By the time he lifted his mouth from hers she was shivering and pressing herself against him, her thighs tight and her breasts hot.
“Damn, girl. Keep that up and we’ll set this barn on fire.” He looked all over her face. “If you ever want more, you come get me.”
She touched his mouth. “What if I need more than a kiss?”
Chris smiled slowly. “You come get me.” He touched her sore cheek, and his expression sobered. “But for now, I think you’d better tell me the truth about all this.”
Becca took in a shuddering breath. “The truth is that I can’t go back home, and you can’t tell anyone I’m here.”
He held her a little tighter. “Why? Who hurt you?”
“My stepmother, Holly.” She looked into his eyes. “Chris, she murdered my father, and I’m the only one who can prove it.”
Chapter Three
“Here it is.” Chris reined in Casper outside the old cottage, and dismounted so he could help Rebecca down from the saddle. “Instead of going on vacations, my grandparents built this as a little getaway. We still use it during the summer when the trout are running.” He glanced out over the ice-crusted lake and frowned at the darkening horizon. “No one comes out here in the winter.”
Rebecca followed him inside, and smiled as she took in the vintage furnishings and colorful handmade quilts his grandmother had hung on the walls. “It’s lovely.” She went over to examine the hearth and the old stack of split wood piled beside it. “If you’ll build a fire, I’ll make you some dinner.”
“I’ve got some snacks in my saddlebags, but I don’t think there’s anything edible . . . .”Chris’s voice trailed off as he watched her unload from her bag cans of stew, boxed crackers, jars of sliced peaches and a huge thermos. “Is that coffee?”
“Hot water.” She held up a plastic bag bulging with small packets. “But I have tea bags, instant coffee, sugar and creamer. Oh, and some hot chocolate mix, too.” She grinned. “Boy Scouts aren’t the only ones who are always prepared.”
“Honey, the Marines aren’t that prepared.” He went over to select some firewood and retrieve the kindling box, and crouched down in front of the hearth. “Seriously, that’s a lot of provisions. How long were you actually planning to hide out in the barn?”
“As long as it took until I figured out what to do next.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or I ran out of food.”
He struck a match to ignite the kindling, and then sat back on his haunches to watch the flames spread before he rose. “All right. I’m going to get Casper situated for the night, and then check in with the family.”
“Please, don’t call anyone.” Rebecca shot to her feet and clutched his arm. “They might tell Holly I’m here.”
“If I don’t, my brothers will coming looking for me, and find us both,” Chris told her. “I’m just going to let Ethan know that I’m spending the night here – by myself.”
Some of the tightness around her mouth eased. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Chris bent down and kissed her brow. “And if you’d be so kind as to make some coffee for me, I’ll love you forever.”
“Oh, yeah?” Her doe brown eyes sparkled. “What will you do for hot chocolate, Cowboy?”
“I’d marry you,” Chris told her, “and take care of you, and give you my babies, and make you the happiest woman on this Earth.” As she gaped at him he grinned. “So you might want to start out with coffee first.”
He first took Casper into the cottage’s little storage barn to settle him in. After he unsaddled and brushed the gelding, he called Ethan to tell him that he’d be bunking down at the old cottage for the night.
“There’s rain heading our way from down south,” his oldest brother told him. “If the temp keeps dropping, it’ll turn into an ice storm. You’d best head back.”
“I can’t.” Chris silently debated with himself for a moment before he told his brother the truth. “I found Rebecca hiding in the tractor barn. Her stepmother murdered Big Bill.” Once Chris had related the rest of Rebecca’s story, he added, “Don’t call anyone yet. Rebecca’s terrified of this woman, and I’ve got to calm her down before we go to the police.”
“You sure you can do that?” Ethan asked gently. “What if this is all in her head, Brother?”
“What if it’s not?” Chris countered. “Ethan, Bill Carson wasn’t a fool with horses, but he got trampled by one he knew was dangerous. Rebecca wasn’t crazy in school, and no one has ever seen her act that way, but her stepmother’s gone all around town telling everyone she is. Any of that smell a little funny to you?”
“Yeah. It does.” His oldest brother sighed. “All right, stay with her. I’ll see what I can find out about the stepmother. Hey, what are you going to do for food?”
“Rebecca packed a bag with enough canned stew and peaches to last us through Christmas,” Chris assured him. “Ethan, be careful who you talk to about Holly Carson. If she could kill her husband, she’d have no problem coming after you.”
#
By the time Chris returned from looking after his horse Becca had the table set, the coffee made and a pot of stew simmering on the stove. “Dinner’s ready.”
“My two favorite words – besides Rebecca Rose.” He took off his hat and jacket before he joined her in the kitchen. “That smells great.”
“I can’t cook,” she admitted, “but I can warm up anything.”
“Same here.” He moved the pot to the table and sat down with her, taking a big gulp of his coffee and sighing with pleasure. “This is a real treat, baby. Thank you.”
Becca dished out the stew, and watched him wolf down his portion with a smile. “I hope I made enough.”
“I’m saving room for some of those peaches.” He eyed her bowl. “And you need to eat more than that.”
“I haven’
t had much appetite lately.” She felt her throat tighten and put down her spoon. “You want some more coffee? I found an old percolator I can use to heat the water—”
“I’m good.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “Ethan said we might get hit by an ice storm tonight, and if that happens we’ll be stuck here for a while.” He waited a beat before he said, “There’s still time for us to ride back to the main house.”
“That’s okay.” She rose and took her dish over to the sink. “Listen, if you’d rather not stay, I understand. I’ll be fine now.”
Chris came up behind her, and encircled her waist with his arms. “You can’t get rid of me, Rebecca Rose. Not after I’ve waited on you for seven years.”
To keep from melting all over him, she gripped the sink’s edge. “You don’t have to say that. I know you were nice to me in school, but with all those girls crushing on you . . . you must have dated a lot.”
“I’ve done my fair share of chasing skirts.” He turned her around to face him. “But I’ve never loved anyone but you.”
She stared up at him. “Christopher.”
“It’s true,” he said softly. “First time I saw you, freshman year, you stole my heart right out of my chest. Never got it back.”
“I didn’t bring my yearbook to graduation because I tore out the page with your picture. I kept it in my Bible so I could look at you whenever I wanted.” She ducked her head. “Whenever I was lonely.”
“Oh, yeah?” He pressed her closer, eliminating all the spaces between their bodies. “Did you look at me when you were in church?”
She nodded. “And in my room. In my bed, late at night, when I couldn’t sleep.” She stroked her hand over the hard vault of his chest. “I’d think about that day outside art class, when you kept me from falling on my face. The way it felt when you held me in your arms.”
Chris splayed his hands over the small over her back. “Did you like me holding you, baby?”
“Yes.” She loved the way his deep voice rumbled softly in his big chest, and rested her cheek over his heart to listen to its strong, heavy beat. “I’d look at your picture and wonder what it would feel like, to have you beside me, in my bed.” She took in a quick breath. “Sometimes I’d take off my nightie and lay there, naked, while I thought about what you’d do if you could see me like that.”