Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  They’d chatted often enough at the café that she knew she also liked his sunny disposition and easygoing attitude. Despite their interactions at her workplace, she only knew him superficially, and an excitement she hadn’t felt in a very long time fluttered inside her at the thought of finally getting to know him better.

  Is it safe?

  Has enough time passed?

  The troubling questions flew into her head unbidden and sent a new tension churning in the pit of her stomach. Surely after a little over three long years she was finally safe here and didn’t have to worry about her past reaching out to torture her or anyone else ever again. Surely it was finally safe for her to believe that a happy future was possible for her and her son.

  Any disturbing thoughts she might have momentarily entertained disappeared as she pulled up in front of unit 4 at the motel. The units were small but also had full kitchenettes, and the weekly rent was low enough that between her wages and her tips she’d been able to sock away some savings.

  Still, she knew it was past time to make a move. It wasn’t right to be raising a three-year-old little boy in the confines of a motel room. She was hoping that in the next couple of weeks or so she would find a small house to rent, a house where Cooper could play in the yard and have his very own room.

  With thoughts of her son filling her heart, she left her car and hurried toward the motel room door. She unlocked and opened it to see Juanita in the chair next to the bed where Cooper slept soundly. Juanita closed the tabloid she’d been reading and got out of the chair.

  She joined Trisha at the door. “As usual he was a good boy today,” she said softly. “We played outside on the swing set and then spent the hot hours of the afternoon playing games and watching movies inside. He ate a good dinner and then took a bath before he went to bed.”

  “Thanks, Juanita. I was wondering if maybe tomorrow night you could stay a little later than usual. Maybe until around midnight?”

  Juanita’s broad face wreathed in a smile and one of her thick dark eyebrows danced upward. “Does Cinderella have a ball to attend?”

  Trisha bit back a laugh. “No, nothing quite as elegant as that...just drinks with a cowboy.”

  “And who is this lucky cowboy?”

  “Dusty Crawford from the Holiday ranch.”

  Juanita quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Something evil walked on that land.”

  Trisha knew she was referring to the seven skeletons that had been found on the property...skeletons who had once been young men who had been murdered over a decade ago.

  “Hopefully, Chief of Police Bowie will find out who was responsible for that evil,” Trisha replied.

  Juanita nodded soberly and then smiled once again. “Staying late tomorrow night is no problem. It’s about time you did something for yourself.”

  “Thanks, Juanita. I don’t know what I would do without you. Now, go home and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  Trisha watched from the doorway as the older woman got into her car and then left the motel parking lot. Juanita Gomez had been a godsend since Trisha had begun working at the café.

  The older Hispanic woman had lost her husband five years before to a heart attack, and with all of her children grown and living in different towns, Juanita had suffered from empty-nest and had wanted a babysitting job.

  She was a kind, loving person and Trisha was grateful to have her taking care of her son. She closed and locked the motel room door and then gazed at the little boy in the king-size bed.

  Cooper’s white-blond hair was in boyish disarray, reminding her that he was way overdue for a haircut. A small smile curved his lips, as if his dreams were good ones. She hoped he always had wonderful dreams. He was her heart and soul and she would do anything necessary to keep him happy and safe.

  She went into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes and threw them into a hamper. It took her a few minutes to take a quick shower and then change into a clean nightshirt.

  It was only when she was in bed in the dark room that her thoughts once again filled with Dusty Crawford. During her time working as a waitress, plenty of men had asked her out and she’d always declined the offers.

  But as much as Cooper filled her life, over the past couple of months she’d found herself hungering for something more. Dusty had always created a little sizzle of electricity in her.

  Was he the right man for the rest of her life? She couldn’t know for sure. What she did know was that he was the right man at the right time to ask her out tonight.

  Is it safe?

  The three words thundered in her brain. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shoved away the fear that tried to take hold of her.

  She’d lived in fear for the past three years. Surely she could finally let go of it now. Surely after all this time, after all the measures she’d taken, she wasn’t in any danger anymore.

  With a tentative hope for a brighter future, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. She awakened to little hands on either side of her face. “Mommy, it’s time to wake up.”

  Trisha opened her eyes and gazed into the beautiful blue eyes of her son. “Says who?”

  “Says Cooper!” he exclaimed.

  “Cooper who?”

  “Cooper Cahill.”

  It was a silly conversation they had almost every morning when he awakened her. She sat up and grinned at him. “And the tickle bug is about to attack Cooper Cahill.” She proceeded to tickle Cooper until his childish giggles filled the room where the early morning sun drifted in around the edges of the gold curtains at the window.

  Minutes later the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air and Cooper sat at the small kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. Between bites he told her everything he wanted to do before she went to work at two that afternoon.

  “We can swing and then we can play cowboys. You can be a bad guy and I’ll be a good guy.”

  “Why do I always have to be the bad guy?” Trisha asked in amusement.

  “’Cause I’m always a good guy,” Cooper replied as if that made perfect sense.

  Thankfully, the only bad guys Cooper knew were little action-figure cowboys he deemed to be bank robbers and cattle rustlers. She could only hope that he would never know the kind of true evil she’d once experienced.

  The morning passed far too quickly as she and Cooper played outside on the motel playground and then moved inside when the heat of the day began to build. As usual when they played cowboys, his good guys put her bad guys in jail.

  At one thirty Trisha donned a clean pair of jeans and the red T-shirt that identified her as one of the waitresses at the Bitterroot Café. She then stared into the closet at her meager wardrobe.

  New clothes for herself hadn’t been a priority over the past couple of years. She joyously bought for Cooper, but she’d rather tuck any spare money away in her savings fund to get them out of this motel room than buy anything new for herself.

  She finally pulled out a royal blue sleeveless cotton blouse to change into later that night for her date with Dusty. She knew the blouse fit her well and brought out the color of her eyes.

  She’d managed to get through the morning and early afternoon without thinking about meeting him after work for drinks, but now doubts began to plague her.

  The doubts continued and followed her into work. Maybe she should just call him and cancel, she thought as she took dinner orders. What had sounded like a nice idea the night before now filled her with a nervous energy.

  You deserve to spend some time with a handsome man who makes your heart flutter more than a little bit, she told herself firmly. Even Juanita said you deserved it. It’s only one night...a couple of hours at the most.

  Luckily, on a Saturday night, the dinner rush was busy enough that she didn’t have much
time to focus on her warring thoughts where meeting Dusty was concerned.

  It was just after six o’clock when Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Lloyd Green walked through the door and grabbed a booth in her section. Trisha swallowed a sigh.

  She hated waiting on these men, who were not only rude and often lewd, but also pigs who didn’t tip worth a darn. Greg wasn’t too bad, but both Zeke and Lloyd made her skin crawl.

  She gripped her order pad tightly in her hand and walked over to the booth were they were seated. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you all?”

  “Trisha, honey, if you were on the menu I’d order you up in a hot minute,” Zeke said, his dark eyes gliding over her from head to toe. “In fact, I’d make it a double order to go.”

  Lloyd elbowed his younger buddy and offered Trisha an apologetic smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Trisha. You know he’s just a dumb knucklehead.”

  Daisy ambled over to the booth and smiled at Trisha. “Trisha, why don’t you go ahead and take your break now? I’ll take care of these rascals.”

  With a sigh of relief, Trisha headed for the break room in the back of the café. Once inside the small room, she sat in one of the chairs and stared at her blouse hanging on a nearby coatrack. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and gazed down at the keypad.

  She’d already put Dusty’s phone number into her list of contacts. All she had to do was punch a couple of buttons and she would be connected to him.

  Desire battled with the old fear that had become so familiar. Was she a complete fool to believe that she could really have a normal life? A life that included going on dates with handsome cowboys and hopefully someday finding a special man who would love not only her but also her son?

  She slid her phone back into her pocket. She wasn’t going to cancel meeting Dusty. She had no idea if he might be that special man, but she’d never know if she didn’t take a chance.

  Is it safe?

  She could only hope that she was truly free of the evil of her past.

  CHAPTER 2

  Dusty stood in front of the mirror above the sink in his tiny bathroom and gazed at his reflection. Hair neatly combed...check. Light blue dress shirt buttoned and tucked into his jeans...check.

  He grabbed a bottle of spicy cologne and splashed it on both sides of his neck and beneath his jaw and then left the bathroom. He was ready ridiculously early. It was only a few minutes before nine.

  Nerves bounced around in the pit of his stomach. He’d drive himself crazy if he cooled his heels alone in the small bunk room he called home.

  He stepped out the door and gazed down the length of the motel-like units where the cowboys who worked on the Holiday ranch lived. None of the other men were anywhere in sight.

  He began the walk around to the back of the building where the cowboy dining room and a recreation area were located. Most of the men would be in town on a Saturday night, but there were always a few who preferred hanging out together in the rec room.

  “Whoa, we could smell you coming from a mile away,” Adam Benson, the ranch foreman, exclaimed as he waved a hand in front of his nose when Dusty walked in.

  “And he’s nice and cleaned up, too,” Tony Nakni, another ranch hand, added. “Hot date?”

  “I don’t know how hot it’s going to be, but I’m meeting Trisha at the Watering Hole after she gets off work at the café,” Dusty said and sank down on a chair next to Tony.

  Tony clapped him on the back. “So, you finally got up the nerve to ask her out.”

  “Yeah, and even more surprising is that she actually agreed to meet with me.” Nerves once again kicked up in the pit of Dusty’s stomach.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Adam replied. “You’ve been half-crazy about her forever.”

  “You’re one to talk. Everyone knows you have a thing for Cassie. When are you going to ask her out on an official date?” Dusty asked.

  Cassie Peterson had inherited the ranch from her aunt Cass, the woman who had taken in a bunch of dysfunctional, lost young boys and turned them into not just cowboys, but also strong and capable men.

  There had been a lot of speculation as to whether the pretty blonde would stay and work the ranch or sell it and return to New York City, where she had a store that sold her original oil paintings, among other things.

  The crime scene that had been discovered on the property had temporarily halted any plans she might have entertained of selling the ranch, but none of them knew what Cassie’s next move might be now that the skeletons had been removed.

  “Yeah, maybe if you cozied up to her a little bit more then you could convince her to stick around here,” Tony said to Adam.

  “You all know that the last thing I want is for her to sell out and leave us all not only jobless but homeless and separated, as well,” Adam replied.

  They were all silent for a long moment. With the help of social worker Francine Rogers, Cass Holiday had taken in a dozen runaway boys to work her ranch. As they’d grown and matured, they had formed a family unit and Dusty had considered each one of the other men a brother.

  As the others continued to speculate on Cassie’s future plans for the ranch, Dusty was far more concerned about his own imminent future and his date with Trisha.

  He’d dated several women in town over the past couple of years, but he’d never made a real connection with any of them. Sometimes he wondered in the darkness of the night if his childhood had made it impossible for him to ever trust...to ever really love anyone.

  He remained talking with the other men until nine thirty and then stood. “It’s time for me to head out,” he said.

  “Good luck,” Tony said. “I hope you both have a great time.”

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Adam added.

  Dusty laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  He left the building and headed for the large shed where the men parked their personal vehicles and stored other big ranch equipment.

  In the brilliant moonlight, the blue tent that covered the crime scene rose up like an alien entity. He grimaced as he thought of the skeletons. They had been found under the floorboards of an old shed the men had taken down after the spring storm that had killed Cass.

  The discovery had been shocking, and even more shocking was that Chief of Police Dillon Bowie suspected it was possible that one of the men working the ranch might be responsible for the seven murdered young men.

  Dusty would never believe that one of the men he considered his brothers was responsible for the murders that had occurred around the time the twelve young men had first begun working for Cass.

  She had been a good judge of character and surely never would have kept anyone around who showed any kind of violent tendencies, somebody who was capable of slamming a meat cleaver or an ax into the skull of another human being.

  If there was a killer in Bitterroot, then the odds were much better that he worked on the Humes ranch. Raymond Humes liked his ranch hands mean and on the edge, and many of them had been around for years or had been born and raised here.

  As Dusty drove the short distance from the ranch into town, all thoughts of the murders fled his mind as he once again thought about the night to come with Trisha.

  He had no idea if she was a potential long-term match for him or not. All he knew for sure was that he was attracted to her. For months she had invaded his thoughts and dreams. There was also a growing well of loneliness deep inside him.

  Maybe his loneliness was more apparent lately because three of his fellow cowboys had found their love matches in the last couple of months. They had been a dozen single men working and living together, and now they were only nine. Dusty wanted to find the same kind of happiness that they had all found.

  The Watering
Hole was the only official bar in town. It was housed in a large wooden building and on a Saturday night the parking lot was nearly full.

  He wished that there had been someplace to meet that was a little quieter, but this was basically the only game in town at this time of the night other than the café where Trisha worked.

  Hopefully, he could snag a table away from the dance floor, where the music would be softer and they could actually carry on some kind of a meaningful conversation without too much difficulty.

  He found an empty parking space and pulled in. The dog days of August were upon them. The stifling night air slapped him in the face as he hurried from his pickup toward the cooler air that would greet him inside the bar.

  The place was definitely jumping. Dozens of couples moved across the dance floor to the beat of the jukebox playing a rousing country western song. Bottles and glasses clinked as drinks were poured and delivered by the waitresses, and laughter rang out from all four corners of the huge room.

  Dusty waved to Brody Booth, Sawyer Quincy and Jerrod Steen, all fellow cowboys from the Holiday ranch. They sat together at a table near the back room, where there were two pool tables and a dartboard.

  Dusty smiled inwardly. It was a good thing Brody and Jerrod were with Sawyer. The copper-haired cowboy was a lightweight when it came to drinking. It didn’t take much beer for him to have to be carried out of the place.

  Dusty wove his way through the crowd and spied an empty two-top table not far from where the three men sat. At least the jukebox wasn’t quite as loud here, although the noisy click of pool balls and triumphant shouts drifted out of the back room.

  He sat and once again tamped down the nerves that kicked in the pit of his stomach. He had never been so nervous before meeting or picking up any woman for a date.

  It was just drinks, he reminded himself. If they weren’t into each other by the end of the night, they would each go their own separate ways and there would be no harm and no foul.