by Barb Han
Her gaze darted around in an effort to find evidence as to which one he was.
To the other side of the doorway sat a duffel bag that had been zipped closed. She fought against her worst fears that there were torture instruments in there.
The stranger turned around and she could barely make out his features for all the facial hair. His build was football player big and he had to weigh in at well over two hundred pounds. He was pure muscle and his size was intimidating. That thought sent a trill of awareness skittering across her skin. Under different circumstances, she could appreciate the athletic grace with which he moved. Ella’s five-foot-five-inch frame was no match for this guy. Working the ranch kept her strong and in shape but she was small by comparison.
The lawn chair scraped against the hardwood flooring, drawing her attention.
“You didn’t tell me your name,” she said.
Another grunt came in response as the large figure moved toward the bed. Ella scrambled backward—pain shooting through her with every movement—until her back was against the wall. She fisted her hands, ready to swing if he gave her any indication that his intentions had changed.
There was something in his hand as he moved toward her, the light to his back. His sheer size blocked out the sun rays coming from the window and bathed her in darkness. Her body was ironing board rigid.
“Be still. And relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, and he looked offended as his features came into focus.
“If that’s true, why won’t you tell me your name?” she asked, not ready to trust him.
“You’re better off not knowing.” His side was turned to her and his face was partially hidden. He didn’t make eye contact. Up close, she could see that he would be quite attractive if he cleaned up that beard or shaved it off altogether. More than attractive, actually, she thought as her stomach did an inappropriate little flip when he turned and she could really see into his eyes.
The man was clearly hiding something and an attraction was so out of the question that she had to choke back a laugh. Her emotions were all over the map. How hard had she hit her head?
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, seeing how far she could push her luck.
The layer of blankets dipped where he sat.
Her heart pounded in her chest and it felt like there was glue in her mouth for how dry her tongue was. Her entire body was strung tight.
“Let me see that gash on your forehead,” he said in his deep baritone. It had an amaretto-over-vanilla-ice-cream feeling and had that same warming effect on her insides. This close, she could see that he had deep-set, serious eyes that were the lightest, most pure shade of blue that she’d ever seen. A square jaw was covered by that dark beard. He had thick, curly hair the shade of a dark cup of coffee.
“What happened to me?” She inched toward him, not ready to give much more.
“I’m a man of my word. I already told you that I wouldn’t hurt you and I won’t. So move a little faster, will you.” He sounded frustrated and impatient.
“Well, excuse me if I don’t jump into the arms of a complete stranger when he beckons,” she snapped back. Talking made her skull hurt. Could her brain be in actual pain? Speaking of which, now that blood was returning to her limbs, her entire body was screaming at her.
A smirk lifted the corner of the stranger’s mouth. He quickly reeled it in.
“I have two pain relievers in my hand if you’ll sit up and take them,” he said, holding out his flat palm.
Okay, so he wasn’t lying about the twin tablets. But who knew if they were OTC or not.
“What are those?” she asked.
“Ibuprofen,” he stated. His tone was about as flat as stale beer.
She stared at them like they were bombs about to detonate.
“There’s a bottle of water on the floor,” he said, leaning toward her.
She let out a yelp that caused his entire face to frown.
“I’ve already said that I won’t hurt you. I brought pain relievers and a wet napkin to clean some of the dried blood from your forehead so I can get a look at your injury. I didn’t do it before because I didn’t want you to wake with a stranger standing over you.” He shot her a look of aggravation.
That actually made a lot of sense and was considerate when she really thought about it. She wasn’t exactly ready to relax because he could still be a weirdo, and she was too weak to put up much of a fight. Besides, what was with the secrets? Sharing his name would go a long way toward winning her trust. Instead, he acted like a criminal. If he wasn’t one, he needed to come clean.
“I’d apologize personally if I knew your name,” she said, matching his level of irritation. He wasn’t the only one who could be frustrated.
“What were you doing out here all alone?” the stranger asked.
“I don’t know,” she responded. If he wouldn’t give out any information, neither would she.
He shot her a look that cut right through her.
“I was hiking. I must’ve lost my footing and hit my head,” Ella said, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “It’s all still a little fuzzy.”
Brooding pale blue eyes examined her and she saw the dark circles cradling them. Whoever this guy was, he had a lot on his mind. There was something else there, too, but she didn’t want to analyze it because it made awareness electrify her nerve endings. It also made her aware that if she’d been asleep for two days she must look like a train wreck and have breath that could wilt a flower.
Blue Eyes dabbed the wet cloth on her forehead above her right temple. She winced.
He muttered a curse and pulled his hand back. “That hurt. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Why was she reassuring him? Reason took over, reminding her that he seemed intent on helping her. She was in a vulnerable state and while she couldn’t exactly trust him, she also had no reason to think he had plans to hurt her.
He gave her an apologetic look.
“Best as I can remember, I was hiking pretty far out on the trail. Most of how I ended up here is fuzzy. Am I allowed to ask what you were doing out there?” Ella flinched again when the cold, wet cloth touched her skin.
“No more questions,” Blue Eyes said. He made a move to stand.
Ella caught his elbow.
“Please don’t leave. My father was killed and that’s the last thing I remember. I have no idea what happened or how I got here. I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I’ve just been told that I’ve been out of it for two days. I have a gash on my head that I don’t even know how it got there, and I’m so thirsty I could suck a cactus dry, and despite that, I really need to go to the bathroom,” Ella said, letting all the words gush out at once like a geyser whose time to erupt had come.
“Can you manage on your own?” He motioned toward the door and there was a storm brewing behind those blue eyes at the mention of her father.
“I believe so,” she said.
“Toothbrush and toothpaste are on the sink. Bathroom’s outside.” He turned and walked out.
Chapter Two
Holden needed air. He lifted his face to the sun. The Texas heat beat down on his exposed skin, warming him. Maverick Mike was dead?
For a split second Holden feared that he could be the reason, that the men who were after him had somehow connected him to his father’s friend. But that was impossible.
This was a wake-up call. Helping Ella had been a knee-jerk reaction and Holden could feel himself sliding down a slippery slope with nothing solid to grab hold of. He owed her father for offering him a place to stay when Holden was at a low point, and that was the reason he’d told himself that he stepped in with Ella. Speaking of her father, the news still hadn’t quite absorbed. Holden rubbed his chin through the overgrown scruff. How could Butler be gone?
The door opened and Ella froze
as soon as she saw him standing there.
“I’ll give you privacy,” he mumbled. Someone needed to toss him a lifeline because the woman stirred feelings he hadn’t allowed in longer than he could remember—feelings he never wanted to experience again. Then there was the obvious fact that he couldn’t afford those feelings. They’d have him wanting to stick around and protect Ella Butler while they figured out who wanted to kill her. Holden reminded himself that he’d done his part. He’d kept her alive.
“Why did you help me? You could’ve walked away. Left me there. No one would’ve known any different.” She positioned her hands on either side of the doorjamb.
“No, I couldn’t have.” He made a move toward the door to indicate that he was done talking. She didn’t flinch.
“Sure you could. It would’ve been easy. My body would’ve been found eventually and no one would be the wiser that there was someone who could’ve saved my life.” She stared at him for a long moment without saying another word. “Something tells me you know how to cover your tracks, so there must’ve been some reason.”
“You’re welcome for saving your life,” he said, debating whether or not he should tell her everything. She needed to know that her fall had been no accident, but he’d keep the part about his connection to her father to himself. “Now that you’re up and around, I’ll drop you off in town tonight.”
“And then what? You’ll disappear?” Her gaze zeroed in.
She shouldn’t care what happened to him because she needed to be concerned about herself.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said.
“Too late for that.” She issued another pause while staring at him. There was something about her cornflower blue eyes that he couldn’t afford to notice. “I’d like to properly thank you for what you’ve done to save my life. Any chance I can convince you to come back to the main house with me?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I really don’t need—”
“Obviously, you need a place to stay.” She glanced around as if for emphasis. “We’re always looking for a good pair of hands around the ranch. It’s clear to me that you’d make a good addition and we need more men like you.”
“You ought to be careful who you go offering jobs to,” he stated.
“I trust you.”
“That’s a mistake,” he said plainly.
“No, it isn’t. But even if it was, it wouldn’t be my last.” One of her balled fists was on her hip now. She had a lot of sass for someone in such a vulnerable position. He’d give her that.
This conversation was going nowhere so Holden did what he did best: went silent as he stared her down. She should be more afraid of him than she was acting. She had been earlier when she’d opened her eyes, and as much as he didn’t like it at first, her reaction was for the best. What had he done to make her so comfortable now?
“You want coffee?” he finally asked, shaking his head. She was as stubborn as the stories he’d heard about her father.
“That would be amazing, actually,” she said with a small smile.
“Then get out of my way.”
She twisted her mouth in a frown at his sharp tone but stepped aside. He walked straight past her without making eye contact even though she stood there expectantly for minutes afterward. And then she slammed the door shut. Not only was Ella stubborn but she had a temper. The nuances of her personality were none of his business. Period.
Holden refocused on the facts. Ella Butler had been missing for two days. His position at the cabin had been compromised from the moment he’d witnessed the attack, and he could see now that it was a miracle no one had shown up. The situation was declining. Fast.
There’d be a search underway by now. The news that “Maverick” Mike Butler was killed would be enough to create a full-scale media circus in Cattle Barge. Add a missing heiress to the equation and Holden couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around how out of control the coverage would be. He’d been so far off the grid that he’d missed all of it.
The news that her father had been murdered before an attempt had been made on her life sat in Holden’s gut like he’d eaten a pack of nails. The media attention surrounding her disappearance—and that would be big news—must be the reason the person who’d chucked that rock at her hadn’t returned. Holden had been watching out for the culprit.
She needed to know that the blow to her head wasn’t an accident. He wasn’t sure how she’d react, especially given the fact that she’d just lost her father. Normally, he’d suspect someone close to her, a family member. Money or greed would be motive for murder, and especially when considering the amount Maverick Mike had amassed. His fortune was legendary but so were his antics. He had a lot of enemies. Holden wanted to ask about the circumstances surrounding her father’s death but decided against it for the time being. He shouldn’t show too much interest in the Butler family. Once he settled into a new location far away from Cattle Barge, he could find out what had happened. Mike Butler’s death would be all over the news, so it would be easy to find.
Holden glanced at his watch. Ella had been gone a full ten minutes. Should he check on her?
A thousand thoughts rolled through his head. Adjusting while in action had always been Holden’s strong suit. He told himself this time would be no different. The door opened at about the time he’d made up his mind to mount his own search. She looked at him boldly.
“Coffee’s getting cold,” he snapped. She needed to be afraid. He set her cup on the table that he’d made by hand after he arrived last month. The cabin was the first place he’d bothered to put together anything that resembled furniture. His thinking had always been “get too attached to any one place and leaving would be that much more difficult.”
His plans had really gone south in Texas—but then he was beginning to see why the place was so appealing with its wide-open skies and thousands of stars at night.
Ella moved to the table and picked up the tin mug. She cradled it in her hands like it was made of pure gold when she sipped. A little sound of pleasure drew from her lips. “This is really good. How did you do this?”
“You haven’t had any for too long. Muddy water would taste good to you right now.” Holden kept the part that he liked giving her that small moment of happiness to himself.
“I promise the coffee’s not this good at the main house.” She paused and then her eyes brightened. “I don’t know what I’ve been thinking. My brothers and sister are probably frantic with worry right now. There’s no chance you have a working cell phone, is there?”
“No.” He was completely off the grid. There was no way to track him using technology.
“I need to reach them and let them know that I’m okay. I know what I said earlier about our money being tied up, but if you’re in some kind of trouble I can help.” The determined set to her jaw said she meant it.
Holden shook his head. The less she knew about his circumstance, the better.
“I’m more concerned about you right now,” he said. “Besides, you’re news and that’s bad for me.”
“You’re on the run from something.” She had part of that right.
More like someone.
Her gaze penetrated deep into him. “You know who I am, don’t you? You’ve always known.”
He nodded.
“And you’re not out to hurt me. So far, from what I can tell, you’ve been helping me,” she continued.
“I want you to listen carefully to what I’m about to say. What happened to you out there was no accident,” he warned.
She gasped. “Not you...”
“No, it wasn’t me. But someone did that—” he motioned toward the gash on her head “—on purpose.”
He let the revelation sink in for a minute.
“It wasn’t you and it wasn’t an accident,” she said so quietly th
at he had to strain to hear.
Holden handed her another cup filled with beans he’d warmed in the fire. “You’re used to better food, but this is protein and it’ll keep your stomach from growling.”
Ella took the offering with trembling hands as his message seemed to be taking seed. “Who would want me dead?”
He didn’t like that momentary lost look in her eyes.
“I’m telling you because you’re going to want to be careful from now on. Take necessary precautions and don’t wander off alone.” Holden leaned his hip against the counter.
She took a bite of food and chewed.
“You said that your father was killed,” he continued.
“Yes.”
“You’ll want to look at people who stand to gain from your death after his to start. Scrutinize those closest to you,” he said, figuring with her money she could hire proper security who could keep her safe until the law found the man trying to kill her.
“I have no idea. I mean, I think what you’re saying is that my brothers or sister might want me dead to get me out of the way or take my share of our inheritance, but I trust them with my life,” she said.
“What happened to your father?” he asked. The look he shot her must’ve been interesting.
“He was shot twelve times while he slept naked in the spare bedroom attached to his office in the barn,” she informed.
“No one heard anything?” he asked, thinking that someone had wanted to make a point. An act like that came across as anger motivated.
“The barn isn’t near the main house. Dad liked to keep home and work separate,” she said.
“Which is difficult, considering you do live your work when you own a ranch,” Holden said. “Your family would know everyone’s sleeping patterns and where your father would be on a given day.”
“He spent a lot of nights in the barn. What makes you so sure it’s one of them? Did you used to work in law enforcement?” She turned the tables.
“No.” Holden had no plans to elaborate on his background. The less she knew, the better for both of them.