Rancher's Refuge (Whisper Falls)

by Goodnight, Linda

  The last part stuck in his craw, a wad thick enough to choke him.

  She stared at him across the cup that joined their hands. A tiny muscle twitched beneath her cheekbone. Finally, she licked her lips and whispered, “Boyfriend.”

  Austin released the cup along with the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He vacillated between relief that she wasn’t tangled up with an abusive husband and fury at her jerk of a boyfriend.

  “He broke your arm and dumped you out at the waterfall?”

  “I ran. He pushed me out of the car and tried to…” She bit down on her lip, eyes wide with the painful memory. “I ran into the woods, praying he wouldn’t follow me.”

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t think so. I think he’ll go back to San Diego without me.”

  “San Diego?” That explained a few things. His mystery lady was a long way from home.

  “We were on our way to a conference in Nashville. James likes to drive, to make a vacation out of business trips.” Her lips twisted. “To rip off the big bosses anytime he can, although he has all of them fooled. I saw the sign about the waterfall and wanted to see it.”

  “What happened?”

  She lifted one shoulder as if the load she carried was too heavy. “James doesn’t need much to lose his temper. Hopefully, he went on to the conference.”

  “But you aren’t sure? He could still be around, maybe in town waiting for you to show up again?”

  “Possibly.” Her lip trembled.

  Great. Just terrific. “Was this the first time he hurt you?”

  “No.” Her face darkened with a fierce determination. “But it’s the last. I won’t go back. I won’t see him again. No matter what he does.”

  Rage boiled in Austin’s gut. If he could get his hands on that jerk… “Maybe you should call the cops.”

  Not that he wanted anything to do with cops.

  Hands raised in a defensive gesture, she jerked back in panic. “No! Please. I can’t. Don’t say anything. I’ll leave here today and won’t bother you again. Only promise you won’t tell anyone, especially the police.”

  “A scum like that shouldn’t get away with hurting a woman.”

  “The police won’t help. Trust me. I’ve tried.”

  In a way, he understood her reluctance. The police weren’t always helpful. Sometimes they were dead wrong.

  Austin gazed into her pretty face and saw fear. He heard the tremor in her voice and the desperation.

  A heaviness came down around him, a cloak of responsibility and dread. He knew what he was about to do and he didn’t like it one bit.

  No matter how much he wanted Annalisa Keller to leave, he couldn’t send her away.

  For the next few days or weeks or months, until his conscience would let her go, Annalisa was here to stay.

  Chapter Four

  Annalisa braced the broom beneath her cast and swept the porch with her good arm. Tootsie, the funny little poodle, darted back and forth, growling and nipping at the broom straw.

  Three days had passed. Three days that would have been pleasant if not for the ax hanging over her head. Her time at the Blackwell ranch was up and she had nowhere to go.

  Each morning, Cassie went off to work at the Tress and Tan Salon and didn’t return until dinnertime, usually with a pizza or other fast food. Last night, after a meal of takeout tacos, she’d painted Annalisa’s toenails. Annalisa glanced down at her bare feet, smiling a little at the orange-and-black tiger stripes. She’d forgotten how much fun a friend, or a sister, could be. She and Olivia had done that kind of thing. A long time ago.

  With a sad ache beneath her rib cage, she paused to look out over the peaceful yard, thinking about the strangeness of life. She missed Olivia with a depth as raw as her emotions. How had she let anything or anyone come between her and her only blood kin?

  She had a plethora of questions, most of them for herself. How had she ever come to be here, in this place, at this moment? If she hadn’t asked to see the waterfalls, James wouldn’t have gotten angry, and she would have gone right on to Tennessee and then back to California. Maybe. Or maybe he would have become angry about something else. Sooner or later, he always did.

  Yet in some twisted way or for some twisted reason, she’d thought herself in love with him. What was wrong with her? Where had her life gotten off course?

  “God, I am so broken,” she whispered to the wispy clouds. “How can I ever put myself back together when half the pieces are missing?”

  The sky didn’t answer and the gnawing emptiness in her chest spread. Fear and yearning had been her companions for such a long time that they’d supplanted more positive emotions. She’d become a black hole, devoid of joy.

  Yet, two strangers had thrown out a life preserver. Reluctant though he may have been, Austin Blackwell and his sister had done more for her in three days than the man to whom she’d given her love and her life.

  But her time was up. Somehow she had to find a way to make it on her own without help, without James.

  At the memory of her ex-boyfriend, dread, like an iron weight, pressed down on her shoulders. Tension tightened the muscles of her neck.

  She glanced to the right and then the left, irrationally afraid that James would come crashing through the brush and find her.

  A slight breeze ruffled the leaves of a nearby chinquapin oak, bringing with it the scent of moist, fertile earth and gathering autumn. Peace and quiet reigned here in the remote Ozarks, but she struggled to relax for more than a moment at a time.

  If she was jumpy here, how would she feel once she left this ranch and the people who’d given her a modicum of safety?

  Acorns thudded to the ground and a pair of squirrels raced down the shingled bark after the feast.

  Tootsie gave them little more than a glance.

  By sheer force of will, she focused on the poodle and closed the mental door on James.

  “Lazy,” she murmured, gently touching the dog’s paw with her toe. Tootsie rewarded her with a doggy smile and bright button eyes. “Nothing like your master.”

  Each morning after a shared breakfast, Austin made himself scarce. She wondered if he always worked without stopping, or if he was avoiding contact with her. She felt guilty to think she might be keeping him from his usual routine. This was, after all, his home, his solitude, which he apparently preferred to her company.

  Who could blame him for that? She was the interloper. No doubt, Austin Blackwell considered her a pathetic excuse for a woman and couldn’t wait to get her out of his house. She’d talked to him about James which was probably a mistake. She still didn’t know why she’d opened up, considering she’d never told anyone.

  “Desperate measures,” she murmured and earned a cocked ear from the comical dog. She’d needed the Blackwells. She needed them still, but the fact remained, Austin had given her three days.

  To repay their kindness, she’d cleaned and cooked and done laundry. None of that was enough, of course. She had to move on. Even though Austin hadn’t mentioned the three-day limit again, self-preservation dictated finding a job before he showed her the door.

  Rubbing at the itchy juncture of cast and upper arm, she wondered who would hire a one-armed employee with no references or identification?

  If she wasn’t such a coward she’d call James and demand he send her belongings.

  Not that he’d ever responded to any of her demands. The more she wanted something, the more stubbornly James held back.

  She wondered where he was now and what he was doing. Would he look for her? What would he say to their friends and colleagues when she didn’t return? She’d put him in a difficult situation and she knew very well he wouldn’t take her betrayal lightly. That’s the way James thought. This was her fault. Sometimes she wondered if he was right.

  With a soul-heavy sigh, she looked out at the quiet acreage flowing away from Blackwell Ranch in shades of green and gold. Black cows dotted green fields. A pair of calve
s bucked and played, tails twitching over their backs. Miles of fence disappeared into the woods that led to Whisper Falls, the falls where she’d hidden from James and prayed.

  She thought about that prayer, had thought about it a lot. Just as she pondered the man who claimed to love her and the cowboy who’d rescued her that day.

  Tootsie suddenly yipped and spun to face the tree-covered mountain, floppy ears lifting out to each side. Annalisa reached behind her to the door handle, ready to escape inside. She’d heard nothing from James, but she was not brave enough to believe he would let her go without retribution.

  The two big dogs, Hoss and Jet, broke through the distant woods and raced across the pasture pink tongues flapping, toward the quivering, prancing Tootsie.

  Some of her tension drained away.

  When Austin and his horse appeared directly behind the dogs, Annalisa’s scalp prickled. Her grip tightened on the door knob. Too much thinking about James had made her unduly jittery. She had no reason to fear the cowboy. He might be abrupt but he’d also been kind. So far.

  Loose and easy in the saddle, Austin rode the horse directly to the edge of the porch, bringing with him the smells of deep woods and heated horseflesh. Annalisa propped the broom in the crook of her cast to stroke Cisco’s velvety nose.

  “You all right?” Austin leaned forward in the saddle, leather shifting as he patted the horse’s neck.

  A funny little hitch caught in Annalisa’s throat. That was always the first thing he asked and somehow, the thoughtful question made her feel something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She felt cared about and protected—by a man she barely knew. “Except for this awful itching on my arm, I’m fine. Are you hungry?”

  Offering to feed him was her defense against the rush of emotions welling up inside her. For the past three days she’d wondered if she was having some kind of nervous breakdown. At the smallest kindness, tears came unbidden. Yet, she felt pathetically starved for kind words.

  “Thanks, but I’m good.” Stirrups groaned as he grasped the saddle horn with one gloved hand and swung easily to the ground. “I’ll grab something in town.”

  The pair of big dogs flopped onto the porch with a groan. Tootsie danced around their noses only to be sniffed once or twice and then ignored.

  “You’re going into town?” Stupid question. He’d just said as much.

  “In a bit.” He removed his hat and gloves and tossed them onto a wooden Adirondack chair next to the back door. His black hair curled around his ears and stuck up in one spot where his hat had pulled. Annalisa found that one stray curl immeasurably and uncomfortably appealing.

  “Shouldn’t you tie the horse?”

  “He won’t go anywhere.” But he turned back long enough to drop the reins to the grass. “See? Ground tied.”

  “Good horse.”

  “You know the old saying. A cowboy is entitled to one good horse, one good dog and one good woman. Cisco’s my one good horse.”

  She didn’t recognize the adage, but for the sake of conversation, Annalisa glanced at the pair of dogs spread like rugs next to the door. “If you can only choose one…”

  Austin grinned and shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

  Annalisa marveled at the change in Austin when he smiled. The simple act of upturned lips, of a softened face wielded such power. Attractive power.

  By this time, Tootsie had given up on playing with Hoss and Jet to dance a circle around Austin on her hind legs. He scooped her up and rubbed her ears. “It’s sure not you, old girl. You’re not even a real dog.”

  “I won’t tell Cassie you said that.” Annalisa opened the back door and stepped inside the kitchen, acutely aware of the handsome cowboy at her back. Her pulse fluttered, but this time the reason had nothing to do with fear. His comment about “one good woman” rattled around in her head. Was there a woman in Austin’s life?

  “Cassie and Darrell wanted kids, but when that didn’t work out, she bought this dog.” Austin stooped to release the poodle, looking chagrinned. “Sorry. My mouth runs away sometimes.”

  Annalisa almost laughed. The man was as tight-lipped with personal conversation as an undercover cop. “Cassie told me.”

  “She did?” He scratched at one ear. “Darrell’s accident hit her hard. She doesn’t usually talk about it.”

  From Cassie, she’d learned about her new husband’s death in a boating accident. She’d also learned that Cassie didn’t discuss the tragedy with Austin because she thought her grief upset her brother. “Understandable, don’t you think? They’d been married what? Four days?”

  “Yeah.” Shoulders tense, Austin went to the refrigerator and took out a container of juice.

  Annalisa could tell he was every bit as uncomfortable discussing Darrell with her as with Cassie. She changed the subject.

  Even though worried he’d refuse, she had to ask, “Would you mind a hitchhiker when you go into town?”

  He poured a tall glass of OJ. “You sure it’s safe for you to be seen in public?”

  “I can’t hide in your house forever, Austin. Nor can I continue to impose on your hospitality indefinitely.”

  He scowled and those black eyebrows came together in a forbidding vee. “You’re not imposing.”

  “My three-day limit is up today.”

  The scowl deepened. “Did Cassie tell you that?”

  “No, you told me.”

  He rocked back on his bootheels. “Me? I never said any such thing. I said…”

  She let him off the hook. “Look, Austin, I know you didn’t want me to stay here. I understand.” Sort of. “That’s why it’s imperative I either find a job in Whisper Falls or…”

  “Or what, Annalisa?” His voice was soft, and the ever-ready tears pushed up behind her eyes again. Even though Austin didn’t know it, he’d tapped into one of her deepest worries. Her choices were few. She had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to other than to a man who abused her, and no accessible money.

  She’d called her bank in California, only to discover she could not retrieve her account without the number—a number found on her checks and bank cards, all of which were in James’s possession.

  “I have money in the bank. I just can’t get it out without going back to my apartment or calling James.” Her stomach churned to think of having a conversation with James at this juncture.

  “James.” Austin’s lips parted, teeth bared like a wolf warning off a predator. “The boyfriend?”

  “Yes, James. He has my purse, remember?” All her other belongings, too, but she wasn’t ready to share every detail of her misspent life with a man on whose charity she depended. Charity. The word stuck in her throat like a swallowed bug. “That’s why I have to find work. I can’t even buy another set of clothes, and I can’t keep borrowing from Cassie.”

  “We’ll figure out something.”

  “It’s not your problem.”

  “You made it my problem when you whacked me with that rock.” He tossed back the juice glass for a long swallow. His throat, strong and sun-browned above the open neck of his button-up, flexed as he drained the glass.

  Attraction fluttered, an unwelcome moth in her belly. Annalisa forced her attention away from the masculine sight. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.”

  Annalisa’s gaze flew back to his. Was he angry? Would he— The thoughts skittered to a halt. She drew in a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves. Austin Blackwell was nothing like James.

  Austin gave her a long, appraising look before saying, “I’m leaving in thirty minutes. Be ready.”

  *

  At Cassie’s request, Austin dropped Annalisa at the beauty salon first. Then he’d stopped at the feed store before heading over to the Iron Horse Snack Shop. He strode inside, drawn by the smell of owner Evelyn Parsons’s homemade apple pie and the need to ask a few questions. If anyone in town knew where a woman with a broken arm could find work, Evelyn or her husband, Digger, would know.


  Austin suffered a twinge of guilt over his eagerness to be rid of his troubling visitor. The guilt was followed quickly by the more confounding worry that nagged him like a toothache. James the jerk was out there somewhere and by now he could be heading back this way from Tennessee. The question remained: If Annalisa’s boyfriend showed his face in Whisper Falls, what then? Would Austin’s conscience, the squealing troublemaker, allow him to throw Annalisa to the wolves?

  Probably not.

  She’d been nervous when he’d ridden in on Cisco this morning. He’d spotted the white-knuckled hand on the doorknob and the way she’d stood, hyper-alert.

  The man he had once been wanted to protect her. The coward he’d become wanted her gone.

  “Austin, how are you doin’, boy?” a chipper voice called. “Hadn’t seen you in a coon’s age.”

  Uncle Digger Parsons manned the snack bar today, a white dish towel slung over one ample shoulder. As far as Austin could ascertain, Uncle Digger was no one’s uncle but everyone called him that. The sixtysomething man ran the town’s tourist train, a daily three-hour excursion through the Ozark Mountains that had grown in popularity since the Whisper Falls marketing ploy. People came from miles around to board the train and spend their money while Uncle Digger spouted railroad sayings with the same gusto as the bright red engine spouted smoke.

  Uncle Digger, along with Evelyn, or Miss Evelyn as she was known to the locals, also kept the depot museum in shape and knew practically everything about the town’s history. When his wife wasn’t around, Uncle Digger served up coffee and premade sandwiches, fruit and snacks, and of course, Miss Evelyn’s almost-famous homemade pie along with a hearty dose of country wisdom.

  Even though Austin steered clear of too much community involvement, he got a kick out of visiting with Uncle Digger. In striped overalls and a gold-braided conductor’s cap, the portly gent was a little wise, a little crazy and moved with the speed of a turtle. To him, the world of railroad dominance had never ended so he lived and breathed railroad history.

  “Been busy.” Austin threw a leg over a bar stool and removed his hat.