Sunset Promises

by Carla Cassidy

  “But, Abby, if Collier goes to prison, that doesn’t mean he won’t try to get revenge on me.”

  “I don’t give a damn if he sends an army after you, you belong here at the ranch with us.”

  Colette closed her eyes and gripped the phone closer against her ear, grateful for the love and support that radiated to her over the line. “Before I come home I want to try to find Brook’s father. I need to know why he’s not with me, what’s kept him from me. I need to know if he’s my prince.”

  Abby didn’t answer for a moment, and Colette wondered if Abby was thinking of the three little girls they had been, each hoping for a prince to marry them and be their soul mates for life. “Do what you need to do Colette, but know Belinda and I are here for you no matter what happens.”

  “I know. Somehow I’ll stay in touch,” Colette replied, then, saying goodbye, she hung up. She turned to Hank, who stood some distance away with his back to her. She shifted Brook from one arm to the other, sorry they’d left the car seat behind. “Thank you,” she said softly as she touched his arm.

  He spun around, the aloofness still on his features, in the dispassionate way he glanced at her. “Let’s get going.”

  The bus station was nearly a mile away from where they’d left the car. Colette shifted the baby from arm to arm, trying to keep up with Hank’s long strides and fighting down a wave of irritation.

  From the moment she’d tapped into his passion, he’d turned off his emotions. After the explosive lovemaking they’d shared, how could he be so detached? So cool and unapproachable?

  Or was it fear? She toyed with this thought, wondering if perhaps he was afraid that because they made love, she’d expect something more from him. Maybe he was afraid she’d demand an emotional commitment, she’d desire a surrogate father for Brook if she couldn’t find the real thing.

  Had his wife’s death scarred him so deeply that he feared any commitment of any kind to another woman? She thought of Abby. She’d given her heart to a cowboy who’d abandoned her and now swore she’d never give love a second chance. Deep love apparently caused devastating scars.

  She wondered if she’d loved Brook’s father that deeply and would her heart grow a hard shell if she discovered Brook’s father was an uncaring man who wanted nothing to do with either his child or her mother? Somehow Colette couldn’t see herself losing faith in love, no longer believing in a happily-ever-after ending for herself and her daughter.

  All she had to do to get to her happy ending was avoid an army of hitmen, testify in the trial of a powerful killer and find the man she loved despite the fact she couldn’t remember a thing about him. A wave of hopelessness swept through her and she moved closer to Hank, somehow feeling safer even walking in his shadow.

  The bus station was a squat building that appeared to waver in the afternoon heat. Once inside, Hank bought two tickets, obviously pleased that the next bus left within the hour. “We’d better grab a hot dog or something,” he said, pointing to a concession. “Who knows how often the bus will stop between here and our destination.”

  Moments later they sat at one of the small tables surrounding the concession stand, hot dogs and sodas in front of them. “This tastes wonderful,” Colette said.

  Hank smiled, the first gesture of warmth since their lovemaking. “You’re a cheap date if you can be satisfied with a hot dog.”

  “It depends on how much time has passed between meals,” she replied, warmed by his smile and the crack in his seeming indifference. “It seems like it’s been a long time since breakfast. I’m hungry enough that you probably could have bought me a pretzel and I’d have been happy.”

  As usual, his gaze didn’t stay on her, but rather swept the perimeters of their area, always watchful, always wary, reminding Colette that they were a long way from her happy ending.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  He nodded. “As far as I can tell. Until they find the car, they’ll be searching the highways looking for us. I think, at least for the moment, we can relax.”

  “I won’t relax fully until this is all over, and even then, from what you’ve told me, I’ll probably never be able to completely relax ever again.” She stroked Brook’s head and smiled as the baby gurgled in contentment. She looked back at Hank. “I will testify. If somebody can make my memories return, I’ll testify and face whatever the consequences.”

  “I thought you weren’t sure about it, that you would rather run or face charges than face Collier’s revenge. What changed your mind?” He studied her curiously.

  She sat back in the seat, frowning thoughtfully. “I’m not exactly sure what changed my mind. I think it was when you told me that policeman was one of Collier’s thugs and probably intended to kill us.” She hugged Brook tighter. “He probably would have killed Brook, too.”

  “Probably,” Hank agreed, his voice low.

  “A man capable of ordering something like that, men capable of doing things like that, need to be stopped, no matter how high the price. I have to testify, it’s the right thing to do.” She crumpled up the paper that had wrapped her hot dog. “Besides, logically I know whether I testify or not, Collier isn’t the kind of man to be talked out of revenge. As long as I’m alive, I’m at risk. At least with him behind bars, the risk lessens somewhat.”

  “That’s the way you felt before. You were determined, despite the danger involved, to testify, to do everything in your power to put Collier away.” His gaze captured hers, dark and enigmatic, yet causing a stir of heat deep inside her. “For what it’s worth, I admire your courage.”

  “It’s worth a lot,” she answered, looking down to escape the intensity of his gaze. When he looked at her that way, his eyes like bottomless pits of flames, her skin tingled with the feel of his caresses and an ache grew inside her, the ache to have him hold her, kiss her, love her again.

  It bothered her how much his opinion of her mattered. She shouldn’t care what he thought of her. After all, in a matter of days, once the trial began, she’d probably never see him again.

  “We’d better get to our gate,” he said as he stood and picked up his duffel bag. “We should be loading soon.”

  Once again she sensed his emotional distance, his gaze no longer heated but rather remote and wary as he scanned the small group that shared the terminal with them.

  His wariness continued as they boarded the bus and he eyed each person who got on. Each and every person underwent complete scrutiny as they found their seats and settled in for the long ride.

  Hank didn’t relax until the bus was loaded and on its way, then he leaned back in his seat and breathed an audible sigh. Colette felt a mirroring release of tension. She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.

  It was difficult to believe so much had happened in the space of two days. She’d been shot at, kidnapped, tied up, and made love to…an emotional roller-coaster ride that had left her momentarily drained.

  She shifted in her seat and looked out at the passing scenery, grateful Hank had chosen to sit on the aisle, leaving her the window seat. She was not grateful that the seats were too close, too small to accommodate two people and a baby without inadvertent touch. Hank’s thigh pressed against hers and their arms grazed each other as they shared the arm rest between them.

  His scent surrounded her and she wasn’t sure whether it emanated from him or lingered on her own skin from their earlier lovemaking.

  Brook gave a lusty cry, one Colette immediately identified as probably hunger. “Could you hand me her bottle from your duffel bag?” Colette asked Hank.

  He nodded curtly and handed her the bottle. Colette fed her daughter, grateful to concentrate on anything other than Hank and making love to him.

  It wasn’t really making love, she reminded herself. Rather it had been an explosion of tension, a release, a momentary escape from the madness and fear into the arms of strength and togetherness. The threat of death had ignited an enormous hunger for life. But it hadn’t
been love that had brought them together.

  It troubled her that no matter what they’d shared, no matter what it was called in her head, she wanted it again. She wanted to be in his arms once more, feeling him move inside her, filling up the emptiness inside her.

  Fifteen more days, then the trial would begin and Hank would be out of her life forever. She’d be free to find Brook’s father, seek her happily-ever-after. This thought should have brought with it relief, but instead she only felt a dull depression settling over her shoulders.

  * * *

  FIFTEEN MORE DAYS. The count of days when he’d finally be rid of Colette was becoming a mantra of sorts. Hank hadn’t considered how difficult the bus ride would be, how close their quarters would be for the duration of the ride.

  They’d spent the first two hours of the trip in silence, Colette whispering softly to the baby and Hank trying to ignore them both. Realizing it was impossible to ignore them, for the past several hours he and Colette had indulged in the kind of small talk Hank usually abhorred.

  They speculated on the other passengers, making up stories about their life-styles and occupations. Colette did most of the talking, while Hank listened, half amused, half irritated by her imaginative flair. Her stories amused him, but it irritated him how much he enjoyed watching her features as she spun her tales.

  He was grateful when night fell and he could no longer see the sparkle of her eyes, the sensual shape of her lips. He only wished the darkness would mute the scent of her, the feel of her body heat radiating toward him, as well.

  Leaning his head against the seat, he closed his eyes. The shooting at the motel bothered him, the fact that somebody had gotten that close, missing them only by mere minutes. Had he slept fifteen minutes longer, had Colette taken a little more time in getting dressed, their blood would have been splattered all over the walls of the room.

  At least for the moment they were safe. Ditching the car had been a good idea and had probably bought them some time. Hopefully by the time Collier’s men found the car, he and Colette would already be at the safe house.

  He hadn’t truly relaxed for months. Now, knowing they were safe for the moment, he felt the last of his tension ebb from him.

  He jerked awake, surprised that he’d been able to sleep at all. Looking at his watch, he realized he’d been asleep for a little over two hours. The bus was quiet except the occasional cough or throat-clearing of another passenger and the hum of the engine as it carried them along.

  He looked over at Colette. Her head rested against the window and she appeared to be asleep, but it wasn’t the kind of deep, refreshing sleep he’d just enjoyed.

  She moved restlessly, shifting the baby from arm to arm as a frown etched a wrinkle across her forehead. A stab of empathy swept through him. He wondered if her frown came from the content of her dreams, or from the physical discomfort of wrestling the baby for the last several hours.

  He couldn’t help change her dreams, but he could do something to relieve the burden of the baby. Before he’d thought it through, before giving himself an opportunity to change his mind, he reached for the child.

  Colette’s eyes flew open, panicked as her hold tightened. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “I’ll hold her for a while so you can sleep better.”

  She smiled, her gaze soft as she relinquished the sleeping baby to his arms. “Thanks, my arms are so tired.” Her eyes remained a soft hue of spring grass mixed with a hint of summer sky. “You’re a nice man, Hank,” she murmured, then closed her eyes and within seconds was sound asleep.

  Hank wanted to jostle her awake, tell her he was not a nice man. He was a heartless bastard and she’d do well to remember that.

  Already he regretted his offer to hold the baby. As she wiggled against his chest, seeking comfort against the unaccustomed angles, her powder-sweet scent surrounded him.

  Hank closed his eyes, seeking the impenetrable shell that protected his heart, his sanity. Brook snuggled against him as if certain of her welcome, her fingers closing around Hank’s thumb.

  Long ago this had been Hank’s dreams, his hopes. A wife, a child, the kind of family he’d never had when growing up. Rebecca had carried the seeds of his dreams when she’d been killed. The drunk had gone to jail on two counts of vehicular manslaughter, one for Rebecca and another for the unborn child she’d carried. He should have had a third charge against him, for on that rain-slick night, a vital part of Hank had died, as well.

  Colette had managed to stir the flames of his passion, something he’d never thought would happen again, but she would be crazy to try to breathe new life into his heart. He’d stopped caring five years ago, and nothing and nobody could jump-start a heart irrevocably broken.

  He opened his eyes as the baby shifted positions and started to cry. “Shh.” He patted her little back, wondering if she, too, suffered bad dreams like her mother.

  “She’s probably hungry. Give her a bottle and she’ll go back to sleep,” Colette muttered, still half asleep.

  Hank reached into the duffel bag and withdrew the bottle, then rearranged the baby so he could feed her. As she sucked on the nipple, she stared up at him.

  Not blinking, not wavering, her gaze seemed to peer through to his very soul. And even though he knew he was being silly, even though he knew she was just a baby, nothing more, he felt as if he saw judgment in her dark eyes. With the eyes of an innocent, the eyes of truth, she’d found him a coward.

  Fifteen more days, he told himself. Fifteen more days and this would all be behind him. Colette and Brook would be out of his life forever.

  * * *

  “SHE CALLED THE RANCH.” The cowboy waited for Collier’s reaction, proud that he’d decided to sit tight at the ranch, knowing Colette would let her sisters know where she was at the first opportunity.

  “And?” Collier said impatiently.

  “And she told her sister she’s being taken to a safe house in San Bernardino.”

  Collier laughed, the cold sound rippling the skin on the nape of the cowboy’s neck. “Good, good. I’ve got a man on the inside of the police department. He’ll be able to get me the address of this ‘safe’ house. Finally I see the end of this untimely inconvenience.”

  “Mr. C. When you get the address, give it to me. Let me be the one to take care of this.”

  “And why should I do that? You’ve managed to screw this up a number of times. I won’t go to prison and right now Colette is the only person who can put me there. This matter should have been disposed of months ago. I can’t afford another screw-up.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Then I repeat, why should I give it to you?”

  The cowboy gripped the phone receiver more tightly. “Because I want her dead as much, if not more, than you do.”

  Again Collier laughed. “Okay, call me in an hour and I’ll have the address, but I’m warning you…if you blow it this time, I’ll personally put a bullet in the center of your forehead.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dawn brought with it a renewed conviction in Colette, the knowledge that she’d made the right choice in deciding to testify no matter what the consequences. Splashes of gorgeous colors lit the eastern sky, filling her with an optimism she hadn’t felt for months.

  Within hours they would be at the safe house. Safe. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly safe. She frowned, realizing that wasn’t exactly true.

  She could remember the last time. She’d felt safe while in the circle of Hank’s arms. She looked over to him, her heart expanding as she stared at the picture he made with her daughter sleeping soundly on his chest.

  The pale predawn light softened the harshness of his features. Forbidding when awake, slumber brought a more subdued strength coupled with a relaxed softness that touched Colette in her heart.

  At that moment Colette knew she’d done the unthinkable. She’d broken her promise to him. She didn’t understand his rules of seduction at all. She’d someh
ow managed to fall in love with him.

  Leaning her head against the seat, she closed her eyes and swallowed a moan. How could this have happened? How on earth in the space of two days had she managed to lose her heart to Hank Cooper?

  She frowned. Had it happened in two days? Or had the seeds of love been planted before she’d lost her memories, in those days she and Hank had shared while in hiding?

  He’d told her they’d basically been strangers, forced into pseudo-intimacy because of their positions. Yet, when she’d made love with him, she’d felt the stirrings of familiarity, as if they’d been lovers many times before.

  She looked at him again. Lover or liar? And if he was lying about their past relationship…why?

  She suddenly found herself staring into the dark depths of his eyes. “You’re staring,” he said.

  “Yes…I…” She flushed, grateful he couldn’t read her mind. “I’ll take Brook now. You held her nearly all night.” She took the baby from him and cuddled her sleepy warmth close.

  She stared out the window, confused by her thoughts. She didn’t want to be in love with Hank. He was nothing like her idea of the prince she’d dreamed of as a young girl.

  She wanted to be in love with Brook’s father, whoever he was, wherever he was. She needed to believe that Brook had been conceived from the fire of a forever kind of love, not the temporary spark of a one-night stand or a lust connection.

  Hank had made it very clear from his rules of seduction that he wasn’t looking for any kind of a relationship. He’d made it perfectly clear he was a loner and intended to stay that way. He wouldn’t want a wife, to raise another man’s daughter. He certainly wasn’t a forever kind of man.

  Perhaps she was just fooling herself and pretending to love Hank, she thought. After all, at the moment he was the only stable, safe harbor. Probably her feelings for him were natural under the circumstances. With this thought in mind, she relaxed somewhat, hoping it was just a matter of time before she found Brook’s father, found her one true love.