by Rita Herron
But this big, tough cowboy aroused feelings inside her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. A longing and sexual need that had been missing from her life.
Truth be told, Joe had lost interest in lovemaking the last two years of their marriage. He’d been preoccupied with business and had shut down emotionally, creating a chasm that she hadn’t been able to breach.
Guilt swamped her for even thinking about this stranger when Joe had been murdered.
“Mommy, I get to ride Horseshoe!” CeCe danced across the grass, skipping and twirling. “I get to ride Horseshoe!”
Kat smiled, grateful Mitch had agreed to give her daughter a riding lesson, but vowing not to let herself even dream about a friendship with the sexy man. There was no use getting attached to him when nothing could come of it but heartache
When getting attached to him might endanger his life.
MITCH RODE HORSESHOE BACK TO THE STABLE, UNSADDLED and brushed him down and put him in the barn to rest for the next day. Weary, he climbed in his SUV and drove to the crime lab.
A half hour later, he poked his head into the office of his friend Sergeant Jonas Walker.
Jonas’s eyes shot up. “Mitch? This is a surprise.”
Mitch gritted his teeth. His friends had tried to reach out after his wife’s and son’s deaths, but he’d literally shoved them away with a fist.
Jonas stood and extended his hand. “Sorry, man. I should have said it’s good to see you back.”
“I’m not back,” Mitch said. Not officially anyway.
“But you’re sober,” Jonas said.
Leave it to his friend to call it like it was. “Yeah, today I am.”
“One day at a time,” Jonas said, and Mitch remembered that Jonas had struggled with his own issues at one time.
Mitch shifted, struggling over out how to apologize for the way he’d treated him.
“So, what brings you to the lab?” Jonas asked, smoothing over the awkward moment.
Mitch silently thanked him for not pushing for an apology. But one day Mitch would apologize. He owed that much to his friend.
He removed the evidence bag from his pocket. “I have a print I want you to run.”
Jonas narrowed his eyes as he took the bag. “Whose is it?”
“That’s what I want you to tell me.”
Jonas laid the bag on his desk, then folded his arms. “What’s going on, man? I didn’t know you were working a case.”
“I’m not,” he said. “But . . . I’d rather not explain. Can you do me a favor and just run it?”
“Sure,” Jonas said. “Not even a hint?”
Mitch jammed his hands in his pockets. “A woman showed up out at my ranch. I think she’s in trouble.”
“The law after her?”
“I don’t know.” Mitch hoped not. “But something’s off about her. I found fake ID in her suitcase.”
“You searched her belongings?” Jonas asked.
“I had my reasons.”
“You don’t trust anyone, do you, Mitch?”
Mitch shook his head. Not after he’d lost his family. “No.”
Jonas frowned. “Just be careful, Mitch.”
Mitch had a bad feeling it was too late for that. That he’d already dug himself in too deep. That no matter what he found out, he would still protect Kat and her daughter.
AFTER DINNER, KAYLIE DECIDED SHE AND CECE NEEDED A grocery run. All afternoon, CeCe had begged her to make Christmas cookies, a tradition Kaylie’s mother had started with her when she was young, one she was determined to pass onto her daughter.
Family traditions meant everything to her. Especially when she had no family left. None except the little girl she wanted to see happy again.
She loaded CeCe into the Pathfinder and drove into Twin Branches, but her old habit of checking over her shoulder kicked in, and she couldn’t relax.
CeCe chattered about what kind of sprinkles and cookie cutters she wanted, and suggested baking a special batch for Mr. Mitch as a present.
CeCe patted the tattered cowboy hat Kaylie had found in the attic and jammed it on her head. “Don’t I look like a cowboy, Mommy?”
“A cowgirl,” Kaylie said with a grin.
CeCe pushed the other Stetson into Kaylie’s hands, and she set it on her head. The hats weren’t much in the way of a disguise, but they were big enough to shade her face. And with CeCe in jeans and a plaid shirt and her ponytail tucked under her hat, she could have passed for a boy.
She held her daughter’s hand, again scanning the parking lot as they ducked into the grocery store, grabbed a cart and loaded it with supplies. “I want green trees,” CeCe said. “And silver bells, and peppermint candy canes.”
Kaylie pointed out the box of food coloring and CeCe dropped it into the cart.
“And these!” CeCe grabbed a bottle of sprinkles and tossed them in, along with a pack of Christmas cookie cutters.
“I think we have it,” Kaylie said.
“We need milk to go with the cookies,” CeCe said.
“True.” Kaylie added a gallon of milk to the cart. But the hair on the back of her neck prickled at the sound of a man’s voice.
She turned and glanced down the aisle, but a shadow darted away.
Suddenly trembling, she hurried CeCe to the checkout counter, quickly piling their items on top for the cashier to ring up.
“Looks like somebody’s making treats for Santa,” the chubby middle-aged woman manning the register said.
“Me and Mommy are making ’em for Mr. Mitch.”
The woman peered over her glasses. “Mr. Mitch?”
“Yeah,” CeCe said. “He’s teaching me to ride Horseshoe.”
“CeCe, don’t bother the woman,” Kaylie said, anxious to leave the store.
“No bother, honey,” the woman said. “Are y’all new in town?”
Kaylie’s lungs squeezed for air. She felt that odd tingling again, as if someone was watching her, breathing down her neck.
“We’re just passing through,” Kaylie said. CeCe started to speak up, but Kaylie squeezed her hand so tightly her daughter looked up at her, her smile wilting.
“Come on, sweet pea,” she said as she gave the woman some cash.
The woman’s expression turned to worry as if she sensed something was wrong. But Kaylie didn’t bother to explain.
She rushed CeCe out to the Pathfinder, threw the groceries in the back, and peeled from the parking lot.
She held her breath until they turned the corner outside of town, then released a relieved sigh when she thought she’d escaped.
A second later, headlights nearly blinded her, and a car raced up on her tail. She clenched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, praying she was wrong about the car following her.
Speeding up, she glanced at CeCe, guilt dogging her for the fear in her little girl’s eyes.
The excitement of the cookie making and riding lesson was lost as the car slammed into them and sent the Pathfinder careening toward a ditch.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MITCH MADE A LAST MINUTE DECISION TO WAIT WHILE JONAS ran the fingerprint. If Kat was a criminal, he needed to know.
Although for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine the homebody he’d seen sewing placemats and stringing holly with her daughter ever having done anything wrong.
But he’d been fooled before.
And paid the price.
Jonas plugged the print into the computer, and they watched as the computer system made comparisons through all the major databases.
“Where did you say you lifted the print?” Jonas asked, still fishing.
Mitch cleared his throat. “Off a coffee mug in my house.”
Jonas jerked his head toward Mitch. “Did the woman buy the ranch?”
He’d told Jonas his plans to sell one night when he’d been drowning his sorrow. “No, but I put an ad in the local paper.”
“She made an offer?”
“Not exactly.” Mitch
wiped a drop of perspiration from his forehead. “She moved in though and made herself at home in the farmhouse.”
“You mean she broke in?”
Mitch shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Does she know who you are? That you own it?”
Mitch shook his head. “She looked nervous, so I told her I was a handyman fixing up the place. She claimed she was a real estate agent, said places sold better if they were furnished so she’s been cleaning like the devil and decorating it for Christmas.”
Jonas looked concerned. “So she’s squatting, and you think she’s in trouble?”
Mitch nodded. “That about sizes it up.”
The computer program kept running but came up with no match.
“She’s not in the system,” Jonas said. “That’s a good sign.”
“Yeah.” But he had seen fear in her eyes. And she did have those fake IDs.
“Maybe she’s running from an ex.”
“Could be. She said her husband was dead.”
“She could be lying.”
“I know. Except her little girl said her daddy was in heaven, so I think that part may be true.”
“Jesus, Mitch. You didn’t say she had a kid.”
Mitch’s heart gave a pang. “Hell, Jonas, that’s the only reason I didn’t throw her out.” That and he was intrigued by her.
Attracted to her, too.
But that was a problem he didn’t want to share with Jonas.
He tucked his hat back on his head, then thanked Jonas and strode out the door. The ride back to his ranch made him strengthen his resolve to stay on guard.
Once he crossed through Twin Branches and turned onto the road leading back to the ranch, anxiety needled him.
When he rounded the bend, he saw Kat’s Pathfinder on the side of the road in the ditch, and fear seized his chest.
Had something bad happened to Kat and CeCe?
KAYLIE HUGGED CECE TO HER, ROCKING HER BACK AND FORTH. Her daughter had been terrified and screaming when the SUV had ground to a stop. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, we’re all right.”
“But you screamed,” CeCe whispered. “And I was scared, Mommy.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” Kaylie said, wishing she could shield her daughter from everything bad in life.
But she hadn’t. She and Joe had both failed.
Thankfully the car that had hit them had zoomed on past. For a horrifying second, she’d thought he was going to whip around and hit her again, but a truck had driven by, and if the driver of the car had intended to come back, he changed his mind.
Headlights lit the road, the sound of another truck rumbling to a halt making her stiffen. She glanced back and saw the lights dim, then flicker off, and recognized Mitch’s black pickup truck.
Nerves gathered in her stomach. She’d hoped to get them out of the ditch and back to the ranch without Mitch being aware of her accident. But he parked and strode toward her, that confident cowboy swagger sending a mixture of relief and trepidation through her.
“Mommy?” CeCe sniffled.
“It’s okay, honey. Mr. Mitch is here.”
CeCe relaxed in her arms and wiped at her eyes. “He’ll take care of us, won’t he, Mommy?”
Kaylie didn’t know how to respond. She’d once trusted Joe to take care of them, and he’d been murdered in their house. Then she’d trusted the police, but Arnold and Rafferty had both been shot on the job.
Now she had no one to depend on but herself.
Mitch rapped on the window and opened her car door, and Kaylie braced herself.
“Kat, are you and CeCe okay?”
The tenderness and worry in his deep, gruff voice tore at her composure, and she gulped back a sob.
He cupped her face in his hands to examine her, then lifted CeCe’s chin. “Are you hurt, Kat? Sweet pea?”
“We’re fine,” Kaylie said.
“I was scared,” CeCe cried. “And Mommy screamed real loud.”
Kaylie blinked back tears, but Mitch must have seen them, because he stooped down beside them and pulled them both into his arms.
Kaylie collapsed against him, savoring the feel of his comforting embrace. She gave herself a few minutes to stop shaking, then summoned her courage.
Mitch thumbed her hair away from her face as he searched her eyes. “What happened?”
“It was just an accident,” Kaylie said in a low voice.
“This car hitted us!” CeCe cried. “He made us runned off the road.”
Anger slashed Mitch’s features. “Is that true, Kat?”
She wanted to lie. To take CeCe and run.
But Christmas was two days away, and CeCe had been happier the last week than she had in months.
Poor CeCe had lost so much already.
Didn’t her daughter deserve to at least have Santa visit before they had to run again?
MITCH HELD KAT AND HER DAUGHTER UNTIL THEY BOTH stopped trembling. When Kat pulled away, her face was flushed, her breathing erratic.
“Did you see the car that hit you?” Mitch asked.
She shook her head. “No, the lights blinded me.”
Mitch reached for his phone. “We should report this to the sheriff.”
Panic flared in Kat’s eyes. “No, no sheriff.”
Suspicions rose in his mind. “Why not? This was a hit and run.”
“I’m sure it was an accident,” Kat said. “Besides, I told you I didn’t see the vehicle or driver.” She pressed a hand to her daughter’s cheek. “And we’re okay, aren’t we, CeCe?”
CeCe nodded, although her expression indicated that she wasn’t okay at all. She was terrified.
“Then I’ll call a tow truck.”
Kat shook her head again. “Let’s just see if we can get my SUV out of the ditch. I think it’s still drivable.”
Mitch hesitated. He wished to hell Kat would tell him the truth about what was going on, but she seemed hell bent on clinging to her secrets. Maybe her husband really wasn’t dead. She could have kidnapped her daughter to escape him and simply told CeCe that he’d gone to heaven.
“All right. You and CeCe sit in my truck, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Mitch waited until they were tucked safely inside his pickup, then cranked the engine to the SUV. It took him fifteen minutes of maneuvering to extract the Pathfinder from the ditch, but Kat was right, the vehicle was drivable and hadn’t sustained any serious damage. A dent in the front fender, but that was it.
He parked in front of his truck, climbed out and met her as she and CeCe jumped from his truck.
“Thank you, Mitch.”
His gaze met hers, but she averted her eyes. “You’re welcome. I’ll follow you back to the ranch.”
CeCe tugged on Mitch’s hand. “Can I ride in your truck?”
“Sure, if your mom says it’s okay.”
Kat frowned. “Not tonight, baby. I want you to keep Mommy company.”
CeCe started to protest, but Kat ushered her toward the car. “If you want to make those cookies, do as Mommy says.”
That quieted CeCe, and she crawled in the back seat of the Pathfinder and hugged her rag doll to her chest.
Mitch went to his truck and followed them home, his gut instincts warning him that tonight’s accident had shaken up Kat more than she wanted to admit.
That she might run.
But the thought of these two vulnerable females on their own with an attacker after them made his blood boil.
No way in hell he’d let them go.
Her fingerprints might not have been in the system, but he’d lift one of those fake IDs and run her picture through the DMV.
Then he’d learn who she really was and why she was squatting in his house.
KAYLIE TUCKED CECE INTO BED, HER PULSE STILL UNSTEADY from the accident. What if CeCe had been hurt in the crash?
She couldn’t lose her daughter.
“Mommy, can I still ride Horseshoe tomorrow?” CeCe asked.
The resilience of
children amazed her. Of course, Mitch’s presence had comforted both of them.
She couldn’t get used to it.
“Yes, sweetie.” But as soon as Christmas was over, they had to move on.
And do what? Keep running forever?
No, just until Buckham was caught.
“Now, get some sleep, honey.” Kaylie brushed her daughter’s hair from her cheek. “Tomorrow we’ll make curtains for this room, then bake cookies.”
“And ride with Mr. Mitch?”
Kaylie released a tired breath. “Yes, and ride with Mr. Mitch.”
She kissed her daughter’s forehead, slipped from the room and closed the door. She’d hoped Mitch was gone, but he was waiting downstairs in the kitchen.
His eyes darkened as she entered. “Is she really okay?”
Kaylie nodded. “She’s so excited about her riding lesson tomorrow that she’s already forgotten about the accident.”
“How about you?” Mitch asked.
A shiver rippled up Kaylie’s spine. “I’m fine. Thanks for helping us tonight.”
A muscle ticked in Mitch’s cheek. “No problem. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, Kat, and I’ll do even more.”
Kaylie tensed. She’d listened to the radio on the way back to the ranch, hoping to hear that Buckham was back in jail, but the news reporter said the manhunt was still underway.
They were also still looking for her for questioning about Joe’s death.
Mitch lifted her chin with his thumb. “Kat, talk to me.”
“Nothing’s going on, Mitch. Just let it go.”
Mitch took her hands in his and forced her to look at him. “You’re scared of something. I see it in your eyes.”
“Mitch, please—”
“You can trust me, Kat. Talk to me.”
Kaylie ached to do just that. She’d been on her own too long, running from Buckham and now whoever was working with him.
But Arnold and Rafferty were murdered, and until she knew who’d killed them, she couldn’t trust anyone.
Besides, trusting Mitch would make him a target.
“I’m tired, Mitch. Please just go.” And don’t ask any more of me.
Not when she was so close to the breaking point that she felt herself shattering from the inside out.