Praise for
LINDSAY MCKENNA

“McKenna’s latest is an intriguing tale…a unique twist on the romance novel, and one that’s sure to please.”

—RT Book Reviews on Dangerous Prey

“Riveting.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Quest

“An absorbing debut for the Nocturne line.”

—RT Book Reviews on Unforgiven

“Gunfire, emotions, suspense, tension, and sexuality abound in this fast-paced, absorbing novel.”

—Affaire de Coeur on Wild Woman

“Another masterpiece.”

—Affaire de Coeur on Enemy Mine

“Emotionally charged…riveting and deeply touching.”

—RT Book Reviews on Firstborn

“Ms. McKenna brings readers along for a fabulous odyssey in which complex characters experience the danger, passion and beauty of the mystical jungle.”

—RT Book Reviews on Man of Passion

“Talented Lindsay McKenna delivers excitement and romance in equal measure.”

—RT Book Reviews on Protecting His Own

“Lindsay McKenna will have you flying with the daring and deadly women pilots who risk their lives… Buckle in for the ride of your life.”

—Writers Unlimited on Heart of Stone

Deadly Identity
Lindsay McKenna

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

I’m very excited to offer the second book in my new series set in Jackson Hole, Wyoming! This place is a little-known gem in the Rocky Mountains and is near the Grand Tetons, a magnificent row of dragon’s-teeth mountains. Jackson Hole is fifty miles south of Yellowstone National Park. And, if you have been to the Grand Tetons National Park (only fifteen miles north of Jackson Hole), then you’ve been through this town created by fur trappers. Jackson Hole, the Palm Springs of the Rockies, has an amazing mix of ranchers, cowboys, miners, oil barons, new millionaires, old money, Washington, D.C. power players, Hollywood stars and international tycoons, all thrown together with fascinating results.

Many of you have continued to read my Morgan’s Mercenaries stories. Don’t worry! More stories are on the way. In the meantime, Deadly Identity introduces you to sheriff’s deputy Cade Garner, who has just adopted his best friend’s baby girl and needs a nanny. By sheer luck, he runs into Rachel, a beautiful young woman who is new to town. The only problem is that Rachel is not who she seems to be. Cade falls for her beauty and gentleness. Her love of his new daughter is genuine. And yet, something is wrong. Can he sort out this mystery before danger strikes? Turn the page and find out!

Lindsay McKenna

To the Teton County Sheriff’s Department.

Thank you.

And to Tara Parsons, Senior Editor for HQN Books, who is giving me a chance to spread my wings even more.

DEADLY IDENTITY

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER ONE

“YOU’RE A DEAD WOMAN if you don’t get over here.”

The voice sent a chill down Susan’s back and she did all she could to keep from screaming. As they stood in the kitchen, her husband of five years, Dirk Payson, cocked his fist. She had just dropped the plate with his breakfast eggs on them. The moment it shattered on the floor, Dirk leaped up from the table, rage in his face. It had been an accident, and yet, as she peered into his wild-looking blue eyes, she knew. A sickening dread washed over her while she quickly picked up the pieces of the broken plate off the floor.

“I—I’m sorry, Dirk…it won’t happen again,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she gathered up the pieces. One of the shards of the glass plate cut her index finger. Susan didn’t feel the pain or the warm blood that flowed from the deep cut. The agony and fear clutching at her heart took most of her attention—that and not making Dirk even angrier. Breathing like an enraged bull, he stood near the table, as if frozen for a second. Was he ready to hit her again? Oh, God, no!

Susan’s mind sought the closest escape. She was six months pregnant and had to protect her growing baby. The last time Dirk had struck her—two months earlier—he’d broken her nose. Why did he want to hurt her like this? Why couldn’t she do anything right for him? No matter what Susan did, it was wrong for Dirk. And Dirk was there to correct her with his fists.

“You bitch!” he rasped savagely, taking a step forward. “You ruined my breakfast, dammit! I was hungry!”

“I—I’m sorry, Dirk. I—I’ll make you another plate of eggs. Just give me a chance?” Her voice sounded breathless and frightened. Susan placed pieces of the plate on the granite counter. With a dishcloth, she rapidly cleaned the eggs up off the floor, as well. Susan could feel adrenaline shooting through her. She needed to run! The look in Dirk’s eyes was deadly this time. He wanted to do more than break her nose. Mouth dry, her hands shaking, Susan cleaned herself up under a stream of water from the faucet.

“Please…give me just a few minutes, Dirk. I’ll fix some more eggs just the way you like them.”

“I’m tired of you. I bet that baby isn’t even mine!” That’s when he lunged.

Susan screamed as his fingers wrapped around the long, blond hair that hung down her back. Wrenched backward, she felt her feet fly out from beneath her. Red-hot pain radiated from her scalp. She slammed onto the cold, hard floor. Susan threw up her hands to try and stop Dirk’s other fist from striking her face.

But as she tried to twist away, he leaned over, his fist sinking hard into her protruding belly.

“No!” Susan shrieked from the impact, the pain flooding her. On instinct, she pulled out of his grip, strands of her hair still in his fist.

“Bitch! You’re gonna die!”

Everything became slow motion for Susan. Somehow, she found the strength to rise, her hand across her belly where her baby lay. The pain was far too intense but she had to get away. She grabbed the handle of the black iron skillet and swung it at Dirk as he launched himself at her once again. Her entire arm vibrated from the sudden impact with his skull.

To her disbelief, he fell like a pile of rags on the floor. He had a huge gash across his brow, but at least she’d stopped him. Maybe forever. Tears splattered from her eyes. Tears of pain. She could have stood there for hours but for the sudden ripping sensation through her abdomen.

Please don’t let me lose my baby! A baby she’d wanted all her twenty-three years of life. Susan had endured Dirk’s beatings just to bring this beautiful, clean, innocent baby into the world.

Gasping, Susan saw everything begin to gray before her eyes. She had to escape! She had to get out of here before Dirk woke up! When he did, he’d kill her and her baby. Something raw and primal surged through her. Susan staggered forward, both hands covering her belly. Though she prayed to God that He would save her baby, Susan felt she might die.

Sobbing for breath, Susan tried as best as she could to get out of the five-million-dollar Miami estate that had been her home for all of seven months. Why hadn’t she realized sooner that Dirk was a drug dealer with the Mexican cartel? That he was beyond dangerous? She’d come from a small Iowa cattle farm so what did she know? Now she was running for her life.

Warmth flowed between her legs. She knew it was blood or worse, the fluid surrounding her baby. Save my baby…save my baby… Susan wove unsteadily past the palm trees at the front of the house. Her world began tilting, and more fluid flowed down her legs. Sobbing, Susan ran as if drunk toward the sidewalk below. She nearly fell but she made it to the concrete walkways of the rich community. Help! She could never go back into the estate that reminded her of a prison. She had to escape Dirk! She had to save her baby girl that she’d named Sarah.

Cars slowed down, and drivers gawked at her. Susan wove on rubbery legs, her hands stretched outward to keep herself upright. Gasps and sobs exploded out of her mouth as the pain made her hunch over. Help!

Susan knew no one in Miami. Dirk had kept her inside that mausoleum, not allowing her to make friends with anyone. Her strange marriage went against her grain. At home in the small community of Greenfield, Iowa, people knew each other. They were a tight-knit community. They supported and helped one another. Susan hated Miami, hated that she’d made the stupid decision to marry Dirk Payson. At eighteen years old, when she’d fallen in love with him, she’d thought she knew everything. Against her parents’ wishes, she’d run off and married him. How she regretted her choice now.

Everything had gone wrong. Susan bent over, her hands cupping her belly. Suddenly, she heard the screech of tires nearby. Looking up, Susan noticed a dark blue car stop and a man running toward her. Susan didn’t know who he was, but she sank to her knees. She was too weak to stand, too weak to see if he was friend or foe. Yet, the look in his green eyes told her he was there to help her.

Then, as if someone had lowered a black curtain across her vision, Susan crumpled to the sidewalk. She knew nothing more.

Five years later…

“SUSAN, SOMETHING has happened,” FBI agent Brenda Wilkins said, gesturing for her to sit down in a chair within an enclosed glass office.

“Oh?” Susan frowned and, automatically, her heart began to beat harder. It was snowing outside and getting to this building in six inches of snow had taken a long time. After pulling off her black wool coat and removing her red scarf, Susan placed them on a nearby hook.

The news had to be about Dirk. She had lost Sarah, her baby, and nearly her own life thanks to her ex-husband. When she’d awakened in the hospital, Brenda Wilkins had been at her bedside. The red-haired woman, in her forties, with thick glasses perched on her large nose, told Susan that the FBI needed her help. For the past five years, Susan Donovan had no longer existed.

After testifying against Dirk, she’d entered the federal witness protection program and become Susan Johnson.

Brenda offered her some water from a pitcher. Palms sweaty, Susan took the glass and murmured her thanks.

“What’s wrong? You seem upset,” Susan said. As she looked around the small, spare office, she noticed instantly that all the blinds had been drawn except at the front door. Brenda was meeting her in a special FBI front that sported another name: Garrison & Sons Life Insurance Agency.

Brenda had literally saved Susan’s life. Indeed, the FBI agent had been her gateway to a life without fear of being hunted down and killed by Dirk’s Mexican drug-cartel connections, even though he was in prison. Oh, there was no question in Susan’s mind that Dirk had sent out hit men to find her. So far, he hadn’t succeeded.

The first thing Susan had done was to dye her hair from its original blond color to sable. And she trimmed it to shoulder-length to add more change. Brenda gave her a new name, social security number and all the rest to complete the transfer to begin living a normal life of sorts. All these things ran through Susan’s mind as she studied her handler. Brenda’s red mouth was pursed. Adrenaline started to pour through Susan.

“Dirk escaped,” Brenda said bluntly.

“What?” The word exploded from Susan’s lips.

She was on her feet with nowhere to go. The panic came back with a vengeance. “What? How could that be?”

“I know, I know. Come sit down, Susan. Please…” Brenda waved toward the chair.

Susan couldn’t calm down. Dirk had sworn to kill her. He had promised to track her down and finish the job he’d started at their Miami home five years ago. Grabbing the arms of the wooden chair, Susan felt her knees weaken. She sat down before she fell down. Beads of perspiration dotted her wrinkled brow, her gaze burrowing into the FBI agent’s eyes. “How could this have happened? Do they know where he is? Are they going to recapture him?” Her mind flew like a tornado around the possibilities.

“Take some slow, deep breaths, Susan. Please. You’re looking pale and I don’t want you to faint on me.” Brenda reached over and gripped the hand that was clenched on the arm of the chair. “Come on now…breathe, breathe…”

Gulping convulsively, Susan tried. She was gasping, her breaths shallow and rapid. Just the steadying touch of Brenda’s hand helped her focus. Oh, God, no! The very worst nightmare that had dogged her heels all these years had finally come true. Dirk would be looking for her. Even though he didn’t know where she was or what she looked like, Susan knew he’d stalk and find her. Fear of dying made her choke. She coughed violently several times, her hand pressed against her constricted throat.

“Come on,” Brenda muttered, holding the glass of water toward her. “Sip this. You’re hyperventilating. You’ve got to settle down, Susan. Not everything is lost.” Brenda sat back down, her hands folded, her red nails shining against her dark green suit.

The water was cool and soothing. Susan took several gulps. Her tightened throat began to relax, but her heart pounded like a freight train in her chest. “Tell me what happened.”

Frowning, Brenda picked up the report. “Dirk escaped. No one knows how. Guards suspect he was taken out in a laundry bag to the laundry truck, and he took off from there. No witnesses, though. This is all possibility, not fact. He had to have help. His cell buddies are being interrogated as I speak. And his visitors are being questioned.”

“What does this mean for me?” Susan whispered. “I have a new name, a new identity. He doesn’t know I’m living here in New York City.” It was a long way from Miami, Florida. Dirk hated the northeast because of the cold winters.

Lips twisting, Brenda said, “Hon, I know you’ve made a great life for yourself as a nanny here, and you’re doing well in art school. I know you want to become a children’s book illustrator someday.” With a deeper frown, Brenda added in a softer voice, “But for your own safety, Susan, you’re going to have to leave New York City for a while.”

“But…”

Hand held up, Brenda said, “Listen to me. You’re easy to find here. There’s a lot of vermin, too. My boss also feels you would be safer away from the east coast. In a place where you can disappear. Don’t worry, we’ll do all the moving for you.”

“Where?” Susan felt trapped.

“Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It’s out in the middle of godforsaken nowhere. And knowing Payson’s hatred of cold places, it’s perfect for you. Plus, with him on the loose, you don’t want him to flash a photo of you at the school and have someone recognize you. New York is a big town but it can be a small town. That’s why we’re moving you, hon. You need a new place and a new identity.”

“That means you don’t anticipate finding him soon,” Susan said in a low tone. That meant her mother, who was also in the witness protection program, was affected. But so were her brothers, who lived on the family farm where she’d been born in Iowa. “You promised if he ever broke out of prison, you’d protect my family. What about my mom? My brothers at our farm? Are you doing that?”

“Already done,” Brenda assured her. “We’re working with local and state police. Your family has been warned in Iowa. And your mother is fine. We’re not moving her. We feel she’s fine where she is. They know Dirk escaped, and your brothers will be guarded 24/7 by those police agencies.”

Relief poured through Susan. “Are you sure they’ll be—”

“I am.” Brenda sat up. “Listen, you need to move, Susan. I can see in your face that you don’t want to, but you have to. We can’t risk Payson finding you here.”

“I don’t think he will,” Susan said, her voice strong. “I have my friends, Brenda. I have a publishing contact, the art department and—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Susan’s stomach knotted. “The last five years of my life I’ve found some peace, Brenda. I—I still haven’t come to grips with losing my baby girl.” She wanted to say the baby’s name, but the word Sarah froze on her lips. To say it would make her lose all control. “I’m putting myself through art school with your help. I have a job I love and I’m good at it. I’m a nanny, but I want to tap into my other talents. I make ends meet without FBI financial assistance except for the school tuition. I shouldn’t have to do this! Everything that makes me secure is here. I’ve just begun to feel safe.”

Brenda’s eyes narrowed. The woman’s heavily made-up face seemed as if it would crack from tension. Already, Susan was crying inwardly. Brenda had saved her life, gotten her through the court hearings, the trial and then swept her into the witness protection program. In some ways, Brenda was like a mother to her.

“I’m sorry, Susan. I know how much you’ve blossomed here in New York. But I can’t be persuaded to let you stay here. If Payson gets hold of you, he’ll kill you. We both know that. His threat to you is part of the court testimony. Don’t you want to live?”

“I want to live, not hide!” Susan cried out, her hands convulsing into fists in her lap. “I’m tired of this charade, Brenda. I want so badly to visit my mother, my brothers, but I can’t. All I’m allowed is a monthly phone call with my mother. I can’t ever see them! Do you know what that’s like? I feel like I’m dead already!”

Brenda sat back, tapping her red nails on the glass over the desk. “I do understand,” she said gently. “Isn’t half a life better than no life?”

Shutting her eyes, Susan fought back tears. She’d cried hardly at all since waking up in the hospital, but the grief was still locked up within her. The shock, the stresses and pressures of the hiding, the FBI agents always in the next room protecting her, the nightmares and PTSD symptoms conspired against her. Right now, Susan felt on the edge of nothing. She could close her eyes and see her pathetic, thin figure balanced on her toes over a precipice that had no bottom.

“Susan?”

Opening her eyes, she drilled Brenda with a glare. “I’m the victim here. I was the one who was gut-punched. Dirk killed our baby.”

“He damn near killed you, too. If that FBI agent who was there for surveillance hadn’t pulled over after you stumbled out of that house with your nose bleeding, you’d be dead. When the agent saw you, he moved into action. He saved your life, Susan. You owe it to him and your family to keep going. I know it’s hard. I know you want to see them. But right now, you must move. We have to put you out in the middle of nowhere. We’ve had a team on this for six hours trying to figure out, based upon Payson’s profile, where in the U.S.A. he would not look for you. Wyoming tops that list.”

Nodding, Susan looked down at her white fingers. Once again, her world was coming to an explosive, chaotic halt. Once more, her life was in jeopardy. Worse, this time it involved her mother and her brothers. Would Dirk go after them? He didn’t know where her mother was, thank God. But he did know where her brothers lived. They had refused witness protection.

The FBI had persuaded her mother to disappear and she’d reluctantly agreed. Would Dirk kill her brothers to get even? A cold, aching chill wove down her spine. Susan had weekly nightmares of Dirk stalking her family and killing them, one by one. This mess was all her fault, and yet, her family had stood by her. They’d believed in Susan, and in her testifying to put Dirk away for good. None of them had entertained the thought of him ever breaking out of prison.

“My mother knows I’m moving again?”

Brenda nodded. “She feels it’s the right thing for you to do, Susan.”

Clearing her throat, she whispered, “All right. Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”

“Yes.” Brenda sat up, relieved. She handed Susan a file. “We’ve rented a small house for you. It’s a cabin on a ranch. You can continue with your art career online and work long-distance with your teachers. We’ve changed your name, and all your records will reflect that. At least that stays solid and reliable.” She managed a thin smile, hoping to cheer Susan up. “You can pick up a job there as a nanny. Your new name,” she said, pulling over a file and opening it, “is Rachel Carson. We have a completely new identity for you, including a new social security number, driver’s license and a deep résumé should people check it.” Brenda handed her the envelope with the information.

“Then…I can’t tell my friends I’m leaving, can I?” It seemed unconscionable. None of her friends knew who she really was or what had happened to her. None ever would. Yet, to leave them like this—without a word of explanation—was cruel. Susan shook her head. “This is awful. They’ll think the worst of me.”

“Maybe,” Brenda said with sympathy. “But if they were in your shoes, they’d do what they had to do to survive, Susan.”

Susan glared at the FBI agent, her wound as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Her unborn baby, Sarah, had been dead when she’d miscarried her in the emergency room. Dead from Dirk’s fist. Her baby could have lived had it not been for massive brain trauma. That was one of the few times Susan had cried. She had passed out from loss of blood and they had taken her dead daughter away.

When she regained consciousness two days later, Susan had wanted to see Sarah, but they’d said she was already in the morgue and had undergone an autopsy. She had sat in that private room, her arms aching to hold the daughter she’d carried. Something vital had fled from her spirit. She’d never got to say goodbye to her baby. Susan hadn’t cared if she lived or died that day. But Brenda pulled her through.

Depression settled in on Susan as she recalled those stark, terrible days after her miscarriage. Looking at the folder, she slowly opened it with trembling hands. “I guess a sane person would be scared, wouldn’t they? I mean, of Dirk being on the loose again.”

Shrugging, Brenda murmured, “Hon, you’re still going through the grief of losing your baby. I can see that. Grief has a funny way. Sometimes, it’s fast. Sometimes, it’s long and drawn-out.”

“It will be forever for me, Brenda,” she said, skimming the information in the file.

“Your heart was ripped out.”

Just the warmth burning in Brenda’s eyes made Susan rally. “It still feels ripped out. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever heal.”

“When you meet the right man and get pregnant and have a second child, your healing will begin,” Brenda answered softly. The silence settled between them. Finally, the FBI agent continued, “I already have a moving team over at your apartment. They’re boxing everything up for you. All you have to do is take this airline ticket and go. I’ve got a driver waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.”

Stunned, Susan realized she wouldn’t even be going back to her apartment. Her cocoon was gone. Destroyed, once more. Once again by Dirk Payson. Feeling horribly vulnerable, Susan rubbed her arm. “I can’t even go home….”

“Home is in Jackson Hole, hon. Look at it this way, you get to spend Christmas in a gorgeous postcard place. Don’t worry, you’ll make friends and things will buck up. We’ll keep you apprised about Payson. If I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

CHAPTER TWO

CADE HATED CHRISTMAS EVE. Hand tightening around the wheel of the Sheriff’s Department’s Chevy Tahoe, he forced himself to pay attention to the road. It was snowing, but not a blizzard. Still, at 8:00 p.m., the recently plowed roads shone with potential black ice.

He had duty until midnight, and that was fine with him. He didn’t feel like going back to his home on his parents’ ranch to celebrate Christmas morning with them. In fact, the heavy blanket of sadness enveloped him as it always did at this time of year. Cade knew he wasn’t fit company even for the town drunk. His radio crackled with traffic from the dispatcher. There was an accident ten miles south of Jackson Hole. With this kind of weather and snow, it was messy for any driver unlucky enough to be out in it.

The highway leading back from Star Valley, about fifty miles from Jackson Hole, was dicey. Most of the deputies lived there and drove that distance to work. They couldn’t afford the posh digs of the rich and famous who had taken over the sleepy ranching town of Jackson Hole. Cade considered himself lucky: his parents were from a long line of cattle ranchers come from earlier trappers. He had a home on their ranch, and it was a short drive from there to the sheriff’s office.

Cade looked at his rearview mirror and didn’t see any traffic. As he drove slowly up around the mountains, with the river on the other side of the roadway, Cade focused on his driving. Rounding a curve, he saw a dark SUV that had skidded into the jagged mountain cliff. Next to it, a car with its flashing lights was parked. Though visibility was poor, he noticed a woman in a black coat at the driver’s side of the smashed SUV. She was trying desperately to open the vehicle’s door.

After flipping on his lights, Cade quickly called in his position and requested an ambulance. As he drove closer, his heart began to pound with dread. He knew this kind of scene far too well. Worse, he recognized the dark blue Chevy SUV up ahead. It looked like Tom Hartmann’s vehicle. Tom, his best friend and a deputy, had been killed six months earlier in a shoot-out with drug dealers driving through Star Valley with their cocaine.

Cade tried to bury the memory as he pulled up to the other side of the wrecked vehicle. As he passed it, he saw the familiar license plate and a new wave of pain flooded him. It was Hartmann’s SUV and his widow, Lily, was the driver. Was their infant, Jenny, in there, too? Another nightmare, the one from two years ago, threatened to stagger Cade to the point where he couldn’t think straight. He was a deputy sheriff. He should know to stay calm during this kind of crisis. But he’d lost too much. Wrenching the wheel, he placed his vehicle on the upside of the wreck so no car coming around the curve would run into it.

Cade grabbed his coat and radioed in once more to the dispatcher. He gave the information about Lily Hartmann’s car and asked for a fire truck. Choking on bile, Cade swung the door open, unlatched his seat belt and pulled on his heavy nylon jacket. He ran carefully on the side of the road, mud splattering across his polished black boots, and aimed for the driver’s side of the door.

As Cade rounded the SUV, he saw the woman in the black wool coat and a red knit cap trying to tug open the smashed door. With his flashlight, he approached.

“I’m Deputy Garner, Ma’am. Step aside so I can see what’s going on…”

Rachel willingly leaped back. She’d cut her hand on the twisted metal. It was dark. All she could see were the blazing lights of the sheriff’s cruiser on the other side. The man was tall, his voice deep and calm. “I—I’m so glad you’re here. I was following this SUV and it suddenly swerved and crashed into this cliff.”

Cade barely heard the shaken woman’s hoarse voice, but he was aware of the terror in her large eyes. The door couldn’t be opened unless they used the Jaws of Life. The fire department carried two sets and they would bring them out. The window, however, was smashed in. As he flashed the light into the cab, a scream lurched into his throat, but Cade swallowed the sound.

Lily Hartmann, the wife of his best friend, lay bloody and unconscious, the air bag half empty on top of her. She hadn’t worn her seat belt. Cade saw the hole in the window above the steering wheel. Lily had struck with such impact that her head had gone through the windshield. He thrust his hand through the shattered window and placed his fingers on her neck, searching for a pulse. As he shifted the light, Lily’s black hair shone across her white, still face.

Oh, God, she’s dead….

“There’s a baby in the backseat!” the woman cried with renewed urgency. “You have to help the baby! I can’t get the door open!”

Shaken, Cade combatted his personal horror over Lily’s death. Nothing would bring her back. He had to act now! He jerked his hand out of the window and twisted around. As he moved swiftly to the other side of the vehicle where the other door might open, the woman followed him closely.

Cade remembered Tom and Lily, before they married, asking if he would be the godfather to their children. They’d witnessed the devastation of Cade’s world, the loss of his wife, and wanted everything in place should something terrible happen to them. Cade had agreed to be their godfather. He’d never thought he’d ever have to make good on it.

“Hold the light,” Cade commanded the unknown woman. After he thrust the flashlight into her hands, he gripped the handle on the door and jerked hard. It gave, and then, with more effort, Cade was able to pry the back door open just enough to get into it to see how the baby was doing. He breathed hard, his heart pounding with anguish as he wedged himself into the vehicle where Lily had put her daughter in the car seat. Tiny Jenny Hartmann with her black hair and blue eyes blinked up at him. With the light flashing into the backseat, the baby began to cry.

“Thank God,” Cade whispered unsteadily. His hands shook as he disconnected the harness from around Jenny. Turning, he called out, “I’m bringing out the baby. She looks okay. I’m going to bundle her up and we’ll all go to my cruiser. It’s warm in there. Okay?”

“Y-yes…I’m so glad she’s all right. What about the mother?”

“Dead,” Cade answered, his voice flat.

“Oh, no…” she whispered, her hand across her mouth.

Cade turned and gently eased his large hands down around the well-bundled Jenny. As soon as he picked her up, she stopped crying, her eyes huge. He cradled her snugly into the crook of his right arm. Opening his jacket, he nestled the three-month-old into the folds for warmth and protection against the falling snow.

“I’m backing out,” he called to the woman over his shoulder. Immediately, she stepped away, keeping the flashlight trained so that he could ease out of the vehicle.

The woman stood mostly in shadow but he could clearly see the strain on her oval face, her full lips pursed and eyes dark with worry. “Come on,” he urged her, “follow me…”

Rachel followed and kept the beam of light in front of the deputy. He walked as if he were stepping across eggs, his precious cargo in his arms. The baby was completely protected by his dark brown nylon jacket, but she no longer had a mother. It was beyond tragic. Rachel felt tears jam into her eyes and quickly swallowed them.

“Open the passenger-side door,” Cade ordered her. They walked on the berm next to the cliff. Cade didn’t want to take a chance of trying to climb into the driver’s side with the baby. If a car came around that corner, it could clip him and kill both of them on a night like this.

Rachel pulled it open. “Now what?”

“Get in. I’m going to hand you the baby once you’re inside. Then, I’ll go to the other side of my cruiser and get in.”

Rachel climbed into the passenger seat. She left the flashlight on the dashboard so the deputy had light and they both could see. She watched as he tenderly brought out the baby wrapped in a pink, yellow and green quilt. Opening her arms, Rachel received the infant.

“I’ve got her,” she quavered. A baby in her arms for the first time. Images of lying in the hospital dazed and wanting to hold her Sarah flashed through Rachel’s mind. Gently, she adjusted the baby into her arms. The deputy closed the door. She watched him walk around his cruiser.

Cade climbed in and immediately radioed what had happened. The dispatcher told him help was on the way and it would take at least thirty minutes to get there due to the icy conditions on the highway. He turned up the heater and pressed on console lights. The darkness disappeared. Turning, he looked into the eyes of the woman who had been the first on scene. She held Jenny in her arms and gently rocked her. The infant had closed her eyes. Her tiny hands were visible beneath the sleeves of a crocheted pink sweater that Lily had made for the christening. Cade wanted to cry for the little girl.

Jenny was now without parents. Cade knew Tom and Lily had both been adopted only children and there was no family to take Jenny. That was why they had wanted Cade as the legal guardian for Jenny if the worst happened. The adoptive parents had agreed to Tom and Lily’s request. Legal papers had been signed. Well, it had happened. Mind spinning with the implications, Cade realized he was a father…again.

“Let’s see if Jenny is okay,” he murmured, holding out his hands. “She was strapped in the right way, but I want to make sure nothing’s broken. The ambulance is on its way, but it will take at least thirty minutes under these weather conditions to arrive on scene.”

“Of course,” Rachel said. She managed a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’re trained because I’m not.” She passed Jenny to the deputy.

Cade carefully began unwrapping the infant who now stared up at him with curious eyes. Jenny recognized his voice. She should. He’d been a daily fixture in the Hartmann home. He’d wanted to be around Jenny as well as support Lily, who had been very depressed since Tom’s death. The baby, miraculously, had made Cade feel again. She helped him want to live once more, rather than just exist like a robot going through the motions. Lily seemed to have realized that and urged Cade to come over and simply hold Jenny and rock her. He’d taken over as a pseudo father and was determined to help Lily through this terrible period of loss and grief. He pulled out of his own mire of sadness and focused on the heroic woman sitting beside him. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Rachel Carson.” She watched as the large hands of the deputy carefully pulled the quilt aside. “I just landed at Cheyenne airport and rented a car to drive out here.”

“In the middle of this storm?” Cade gave her a glance. Obviously, she wasn’t from Wyoming or would have known to stay put in Cheyenne until the front passed and the roads were cleared by the snow plows.

“I didn’t know. This is my first time out west.”

Nodding, Cade muttered, “Well, can you tell me what happened here?” Jenny began to coo as he gently took each small arm and tenderly tested it. She was cute in the pink crocheted sweater and trouser set. His worry over the baby receded. She seemed fine.

“I was driving up the mountain at a very slow speed,” Rachel said, gesturing out into the blackness. “This SUV came out of nowhere and passed me going pretty fast. It scared the crap out of me before it disappeared. When I crept around this corner, the SUV had already smashed into the side of the cliff. I got out, ran over and tried to help.”

“You did what you could,” Cade said, his tone heavy. He wrapped Jenny back up in the blanket. There was so much to do. “Want to hold her again? Her name is Jenny Hartmann.”

Surprised, Rachel nodded. “Sure. How could you know her name?”

“Long story,” Cade grunted. He took the flashlight off the dash and said, “I have to be outside for a bit. Just remain in here. Okay?” He eased out of the cab and shut the door.

Rachel was happy to stay where it was warm and safe. Jenny felt good in her arms. Protectively, she nestled the cotton quilt around the baby’s head to keep her warm. Rocking her, Rachel felt as if she were still in deep shock. Yet, there was a baby in her arms. Alive. Jenny smiled up at her and cooed. This was a happy baby, one who would never see her mother again. Eyes closed, Rachel fought back so many of her own suppressed emotions. Her welcome to Jackson Hole had been a horror. She hadn’t wanted to come here anyway, but Brenda had left her no choice. It was one hell of a welcome. And on Christmas Eve, to boot. How depressing.

Rachel lifted her head and watched as the efficient deputy put out flares around the vehicle and behind his cruiser. She could see his dark shape in the rearview mirror as he walked up beyond the curve to place the bright red flares. While she doubted much traffic was out in this storm, those flares would warn whatever there was to slow down. The last thing Rachel wanted was to be hit from behind. Her arms tightened a bit around the infant who was now making noises and waving her hands. Smiling, Rachel leaned down and pressed a kiss to the baby’s brow. Her fragrance breathed unexpected life back into Rachel. She loved the infant’s sweet scent and inhaled it again. The perfume of life. The innocence of birth. Gazing down at Jenny, she couldn’t help but smile. The infant’s bow lips drew into a smile.

The deputy came back. He opened the door and quickly climbed in. His hair was wet and gleaming. The snowflakes were falling at a heavier rate. His nylon jacket had dark splotches all across the shoulders. He put in another radio call, then snapped off the light. Turning, he said, “I’m Deputy Cade Garner. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rachel said. Even in the muted light, she was drawn to his square face, strong jaw and large gray eyes. His pupils were large and black, giving him an intense and intelligent look. A few strands of his military-short black hair had fallen across his broad brow and Rachel felt it made him seem less formidable and a little more like the rest of the human race. With his khaki trousers, shirt and a gun strapped to his waist, he exuded a kind of cowboy appeal. It had to be her overactive imagination, Rachel decided.

As he took a quick side glance, Cade noticed how happy Jenny was in her arms. “Are you a skier on vacation?”

Carefully, Rachel gave him the rehearsed version of her story. Even to law enforcement she could never confide that she was in the FBI witness protection program. “I’m moving to Jackson Hole. I have a cabin rented on the Moose Head Ranch, just outside of town.”

Surprised, Cade sat back. He’d definitely had this woman pegged wrong. Not that it mattered right now who she was. He felt grief-stricken over Lily dying, but now he had this new responsibility to Jenny. And then there was this woman with shoulder-length brown hair with such a tender look in her blue eyes. Rachel Carson had something soft and vulnerable in her manner. And Jenny obviously responded to that sweetness within her. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and Cade didn’t see a wedding ring on her left hand. “Moose Head Ranch?”

“Yes. Why?” She noticed how his eyes widened with surprise. There was a rugged quality about Cade Garner, no question. And Rachel sensed him to be a man of quiet authority, though her judgment of men was faulty. She could never forget that. After all, she had picked Dirk Payson. Still, Cade invited her trust even if she couldn’t figure out why just yet.

“That’s my parents’ ranch. They have a group of cabins they rent out by the day, week or month.” Cade usually didn’t know about the visitors because he was busy with his own life. His father ran that part of the business while his mother ran the quilting store in town. Between these different income streams, they were able to stay afloat financially and keep their one-hundred-acre cattle ranch in the valley.

“Really? Do you live there?” Rachel asked. It was too personal a question, but the words flew out of her mouth.

“Yes,” he said with a partial smile. “What do you do for a living?”

“Well,” Rachel said, smiling down at Jenny, “I’m a nanny.”

“A nanny?” Cade’s mind raced. Either it was a coincidence or a godsend—probably both. He wouldn’t have time to sit home with Jenny even though she was his legal responsibility. The captain could give him time off, but the winter was so demanding, Cade would have to locate a babysitter quickly for Jenny while he was on duty. Or there was this angel who’d come out of nowhere.

“I’m Jenny’s legal godfather. And now, I’ll be taking care of her until she’s eighteen.” Cade stared deeply into Rachel’s widening eyes. “Since you’re already at the ranch, would you consider being her nanny? Or do you already have a job lined up here in town? I know this is awkward, and possibly premature…”

Rachel felt as though Providence had just delivered this gift. “I don’t have a job right now. I was going to come here and then start looking around. Yes, I’d love to take your offer. I can give you my references and contact information for the family I worked for.”

Cade felt instant relief. Yes, he would check out her references. “Thank you…”

“I love children.” Rachel’s heart beat a little harder. Out of such a tragedy came this gift. Just having Jenny in her arms and knowing that she’d be able to take care of her in the future made staying here an incredible blessing to Rachel. “I’d be delighted to work for you, Mr. Garner.”

CHAPTER THREE

RACHEL WAS SITTING in a curtained hospital cubicle with Jenny in her arms. Oddly enough, the hustle and bustle of the small Jackson Hole hospital made her feel more safe. After the ambulance had arrived and the baby had been checked over, Deputy Garner had asked her to go back with the ambulance crew to the local hospital. Clearly, he was worried about Jenny.

“Ms. Carson?” A young red-haired nurse came into the cubicle and smiled.

“Yes?”

“Jenny Hartmann has a clean bill of health. The doctor is signing the paperwork now.” She frowned. “Do you know where to take the baby?”

“She’s coming home with me, Dottie,” Cade said as he halted next to the slender nurse. He felt his heart expand for an unknown reason as he got his first good look at Rachel Carson. She sat in the chair, her legs crossed, the baby in her arms. Jenny was asleep despite the noise in the emergency room. The two looked as if they were mother and daughter. Despite the trauma, Rachel appeared calm and almost happy with the baby in her arms. Cade nodded to her and gave her a slight smile.

“Rachel has rented one of my parents’ cabins at the ranch. Legally, I’m Jenny’s guardian, and Rachel has agreed to be her nanny until I can get everything straightened out.”

Dottie nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll tell Dr. Sherman to put down your mom and dad’s ranch address and that you’re her legal guardian. I wasn’t sure if we needed to call in Child Protective Services or not.”

Cade rested his hands on his hips. “No, you don’t have to in this case.”

Dottie frowned. “It’s so sad, Cade. First Tom. Now Lily. Poor baby Jenny has no one.”

Cade felt grief moving in his chest. “Now she has me.” He’d just come from the crash site. Lily had been taken to the local morgue where the medical examiner would proclaim that she’d died of massive head trauma. There was so much to do. He needed to call Tom and Lily’s adoptive families and friends to set up a funeral. Cade hated having to make the calls on Christmas Day. They would never have another Christmas without remembering that phone call, but he couldn’t put it off. Tom was already buried at a cemetery outside of town. At least now, he and Lily would be together.

Placing her hand on Cade’s damp nylon jacket, Dottie said, “I’ll be right back.”

Cade nodded and pulled the white curtain closed over the front of the cubicle. He felt strangely excited. Maybe it was a release from the day’s tragic circumstances. Maybe it was because finally, after two awful years, someone needed him again. Bringing a chair with him, he went over to where Rachel sat with the baby.

“How are you doing?” he asked, searching her face. Cade began to realize how beautiful Rachel Carson really was. She had an oval face with softly arched eyebrows, full lips and a straight nose that looked a bit crooked at the top. Cade wondered how she’d broken it. As a deputy sheriff, he was used to studying people’s faces. In some cases, it had saved his life. There was nothing threatening about Rachel. It was her large, expressive blue eyes that drew him. In them he could see both a flare of hope and utter exhaustion.

Rachel smiled a little. “Just a little stressed out but glad that Jenny is okay. That’s what is really important here.” Cade Garner’s presence was palpable. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and in his sheriff’s uniform, the black holster and all the other gear, he looked like a dangerous, modern-day warrior. Heart beating a little harder, she couldn’t stop looking into his narrowed gray eyes. This man missed nothing. For a moment, a sizzle of panic grabbed her stomach. At some point, he might put her FBI cover in jeopardy. But then, Rachel sternly told herself, this man knew nothing about her nor would he ever guess that she was in the witness protection program. Her résumé and references were solid.

Reaching out, Cade barely touched Jenny’s soft black hair, fuzz across her skull. “Poor little tyke. She got a raw deal, losing both her parents.”

He was so dizzyingly close that Rachel inhaled sharply. There was a quiet, tightly sprung power around Cade. She saw it in his work-worn hands, his steady and earnest gaze. There was nothing meek or citified about this man. For one wild moment, she wanted to reach out and sift her fingers through his damp, short black hair. Just once, she yearned to touch a man who was both tender and strong—as Cade seemed to be. She watched as he gently curved his hand across Jenny’s tiny head, his tough sheriff-deputy demeanor melting away.

Rachel witnessed a miraculous change in Cade’s face as it transformed from an unreadable cop’s expression to a man who clearly loved this baby. His mouth had been tense, and now, it softened and curved in a subtle smile.

“Have you ever noticed how sweet and clean a baby smells?” He lifted his head to meet her blue gaze.

“I know. I love it,” Rachel whispered.

Cade felt himself getting lost in the family scene—tailor-made for future heartbreak. He had to get a grip fast and keep this semiprofessional. Sitting back, he lifted his hand away from the baby. “I had one of the firefighters drive your rental car into Jackson Hole. I’d like to drive you and Jenny to my home on my parents’ ranch north of town. My captain has given me the rest of the night off because of the situation with Jenny. As her legal guardian, I’ve got paperwork to fill out at the courthouse the day after Christmas.”

Rachel looked up in wonder. “That’s right…it is Christmas, isn’t it?”

Cade looked at his watch and said gruffly, “Just another day as far as I’m concerned.”

The abruptness, the tightening around his eyes and mouth spoke volumes, but Rachel didn’t know exactly how to interpret it. Maybe Cade didn’t celebrate Christmas. It wasn’t her business to ask. Everyone kept secrets. God knew, she had enough of her own to handle. Looking down at Jenny, she said, “Dottie said that Lily Hartmann fed her goat’s milk, that she’s allergic to cow’s milk.”

“That’s right,” Cade said. “Well, no problem there because my folks have some goats and Lily was getting the milk from their nannies. So, I’ll just go out and milk them daily and put enough in the fridge so Jenny has a good supply. That’s an easy problem to take care of.”

“I’ve never milked a goat,” Rachel admitted. She almost slipped by saying that she’d come from a farm in Iowa and had milked cows. Compressing her lips, she vowed not to allow anything of her past to leak out. Cade would have to think she was born in New York City and let it go at that. Still, something about Cade made her want to share details about her life—her real life. She was on dangerous ground with the deputy.

He straightened and smiled tiredly at her. “I have a house at the family homestead. The cabin you’ve rented won’t be that far from my house. How about we get you to your new home? I can take Jenny and care for her and you can get yourself a hot bath and go to bed.”

Alarmed, Rachel stood as he did. “But she needs feeding every two to three hours.”

Cade noted the concern in her upturned face, couldn’t help looking at her fully. She was slender and about five foot seven inches tall. She had a model’s body, not curvy at all. “I think I can handle taking care of Jenny. I want you to rest. Tomorrow morning, at nine, if you’re up and moving around, come on over to my house. I have the day off and can help you get oriented with Jenny.”

Rachel nodded. Cade pulled the curtain aside and she went with him to the nurse’s desk where he signed some papers. As she kept pace with him, worry ate at her. Even though Cade seemed self-assured and capable of taking care of the baby, she felt anxious. Holding Jenny close, Rachel followed Cade out the sliding doors and into the night. It was snowing heavily now, the sounds around them muted. No one was up and about this early on Christmas morning.

Cade led Rachel to the cruiser and placed his hand on her elbow to help her climb in. For a second time, he felt as if an angel had dropped out of the night to help him with the infant. But she would just be Jenny’s nanny—nothing else. With that thought, he shut the door and walked around the cruiser. Despite the shock of Lily’s death and his sudden fatherhood, some of the emptiness deep inside him diminished. Why? He was too exhausted to consider answers right now.

Cade climbed into the vehicle. After going through the many radio calls, he then drove them out of the slushy parking lot and headed out toward the main area of Jackson Hole. Beneath the streetlights, Cade saw Rachel’s profile go from dark to light and back. There was an incredible vulnerability to her. And her eyes haunted him. Cade could swear he saw fear in their recesses. Fear of him? More than likely, she was still in shock. Anyone witnessing such an accident would have a hell of a reaction. He’d seen so many he’d grown a bit immune over the years. In his line of work he couldn’t afford to be emotionally over-wrought. He had to think through his feelings and do the right thing at the right time. Yes, law-enforcement people had to have that edge.

“Where are you moving from?” Cade asked as he turned onto the empty main street.

Instantly, Rachel’s gut tightened. Trying to keep her face unreadable, she stuck with her cover story. “New York City.”

“This is quite a departure from city life,” Cade murmured. He slowed for a stop light. The snow flakes continued to fall in lazy, twirling motions. At least this wasn’t a blizzard coming through, and for that he was grateful.

“Uh, yes it is.”

“What drew you here?”

Rachel cringed inwardly. Of course a deputy would ask a lot of questions. The FBI witness protection program had drilled her new life and past history into her until she could recite it in her sleep. “I felt a need to get out of the city. I wanted to explore the west. It’s called to me for a long time. The family I’d worked for moved back to Italy. It seemed like fate that I make good on my dream.” She managed a smile. “Besides, I love animals and I’ve never seen a moose. I thought this would be a good place to see them.” None of that was a lie, thank goodness. For whatever reason, Rachel hated lying to Cade. He seemed so steady, reliable and honest that her conscience raged at her.

“You moved here because you hadn’t seen a moose?”

Disbelief was evident in his low voice as well as shadowed in his eyes. Rachel shrugged. “I was getting tired of the big city. I yearned for those wideopen spaces. Cowboys have always intrigued me. Call it a sudden, illogical move.” Yeah, right. Dirk Payson had broken out of prison and was hunting her. She could say nothing. And Cade would have been the ideal person to confide in. He might have gotten information on Payson through the law-enforcement sharing policies. He might have a photocopy of Dirk’s face on his desk.

“Are you given to spontaneity?” he wondered, worrying that Rachel might be gone in a few months and he’d have to look for another nanny for Jenny. Cade could not stay home and take care of the infant. He had a job and crazy hours, as well. He liked Rachel and she appeared reliable and calm. Just the type of person he’d envisioned to help care for Jenny.

“Oh, not often. The only reason I did it was because my job had ended.”

“Phew,” he said, “I was worried that you’d up and take off in a couple of months.”

“No,” Rachel said. “I won’t leave you or Jenny in the lurch.”

“That’s good to hear,” Cade said, relieved. “A deputy sheriff’s hours are always changing. We have three shifts in a twenty-four-hour period. I don’t want to think of Jenny left alone for eight hours.”

“She won’t ever be left alone,” Rachel promised him. Looking down at the baby girl sleeping soundly in her arms, Rachel silently vowed never to abandon her.

“I’ve got so many logistical problems running around in my head right now,” Cade said, pointing at his brow. “Your cabin is about two hundred feet away from my home. I figure you could stay at my house the nights I have the graveyard shift.”

“That would be fine. Or I could bring Jenny over to the cabin to stay with me.”

“I’d like everything for the baby in one place. You’re going to be busy enough without carting stuff back and forth.”

“It’s settled, then,” she said.

Cade’s mouth quirked. Her sable hair was shoulder-length and thick. It framed her face and brought out the assets of her eyes and lips. There was nothing to dislike about her. And for whatever crazy reason, he liked her—personally. “Your full name is Rachel Carson. Right?”

“Yes.” Rachel didn’t ask why he asked. She knew. If she were in Cade’s shoes, she’d be doing a background check. He’d find her new life and information. All she had to do was remember it precisely because this was a man who missed nothing. And yet, in an odd way, Rachel felt safer with him than she ever had since Dirk had abused her. She sensed that Cade was the kind of man who would protect his woman and his child at any cost to himself. In a way, she mused, he was like the knights of old going around the countryside protecting the weak, the old and the poor.

“Where did you get your education as a nanny?”

She told him.

“Is that a dream you’ve had? To be a nanny?”

Rachel watched as they left the Christmas-decorated town behind and climbed a long hill devoid of all traffic. “I love children. Nothing makes me happier than being around them.”

Cade smiled. “Well, you’re Providence dropping into my lap. I’m grateful that you’ll be Jenny’s nanny. So much has happened so fast.”

Rachel was gazing down at Jenny and her loving smile made him ache. When she looked up and met his eyes, Cade felt at a momentary loss for words. Rachel seemed like the perfect nanny for Jenny, and this belief shook him deeply. Truth was, he found himself drawn to her as a woman. He tried to shove those feelings away.

“I’m in shock over all this, too,” Rachel admitted in a soft voice. “I’m exhausted and yet, I feel like I’m still on pins and needles.”

“It’s the accident,” Cade soothed, watching the twin headlights stab into the black night. At the top of the hill the highway would straighten and level out. The snow began to ease. “You’re still in shock. I’ve got tomorrow off and the next day. Come on over when you feel like it.”

“You seem to know a lot about Jenny.”

Cade sighed. “Tom and Lily Hartmann were my best friends. Tom died six months ago, murdered by drug dealers. He was a deputy sheriff. Before he and Lily were married, they asked me to be godfather to their future children. If anything happened to them, I’d be the guardian. They had asked me because they came from adoptive families. Their adoptive parents supported their request. I said I would. I didn’t realize it would really happen.”

“Oh, dear,” Rachel murmured. Without thinking, she reached out her hand and laid it on his broad, capable shoulder. When she realized her intimate action, she quickly withdrew her hand. “I’m so sorry. You must be in shock, too. It’s awful to lose people you love.” How well she knew. She’d lost her mother and brothers. It hurt not to be able to call them, to see them or to visit the farm where she’d grown up happy and secure.

“I’m okay,” Cade said gruffly. “But my focus is on Jenny. After Tom died, I was over at their home nearly every day. I helped Lily take care of Jenny as much as I could because I know Tom would have wanted it that way.” Cade shook his head, his hands tightening momentarily on the wheel. The wipers provided a calming effect on him as they whooshed slowly back and forth across the wet windshield. “I just never figured things would go the way they have. I couldn’t believe it when I drove up in the cruiser and recognized Lily’s SUV. I—this is just a crazy time in my life, I guess.”

Rachel sensed the deep emotions barely under tight control within him. “At least Jenny is unhurt. And she’s safe with you. She’ll have a real father in her life and that’s important.”

Running his fingers through his hair, Cade grimaced. “Instant parent. I just never thought of myself in those parameters, Rachel.” And he gave her an intense look. “I’m just glad you showed up. I’m sorry you had to see that wreck. I know it will haunt you for some time to come. Jenny’s obviously happy and feels safe with you.”

“That’s a good sign,” Rachel agreed, gently touching Jenny’s soft, unlined brow.

“It is,” Cade said with a genuine sigh. “My mother, Gwen, runs Quilter’s Haven, a small fabric and quilting store in town. My father, Ray, runs the hundred-acre cattle ranch and I help out on days when I’m off duty. So, we’re stretched thin.”

“Yes, you are.” Jenny stared at his hands. No wonder they looked roughened by hard, constant work. He was a cowboy when he wasn’t a deputy sheriff. His work ethic made her proud of his responsible lifestyle. “Jenny has a father who will truly care for her in the long term.”

Cade nodded. “Yes, but becoming a parent suddenly is jarring. My parents are going to be shocked, too. They’ll be happy to help with Jenny, but they can’t care for her, either.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Rachel said, meaning it. Again, she saw the relief in Cade’s shadowed eyes. His law-enforcement facade had dropped away. She was privy to the man, not the deputy. And what she saw called to her on such a deep level that it surprised her. Since the abuse by Dirk, Rachel had undergone years of therapy. She recognized the extent to which she was an abuse survivor. It had left her wary of men in general. She’d had a few men who were pals, but never a lover. Rachel wondered if she would ever be able to love a man. The scars from her marriage with Dirk Payson had been a prison sentence in so many ways.

“I’m sure glad,” Cade said, smiling. “Once we get things set up, you’ll need a car, won’t you?”

“I will, yes. In New York I never needed one. I can drive, but it was nice not having a car payment.”

“Maybe I can help you there. My dad has a small pickup truck he no longer uses.”

Rachel laughed. “A pickup? I’m sure I can get used to driving it. That would be helpful because then I don’t have to have a car payment on top of everything else.”

“I’ll make sure you get paid properly,” Cade promised her. He made a right onto a road that was nothing but muddy ruts. “This is the way to the Moose Head Ranch. It’s about a mile down this bumpy road, so hold on to Jenny.”

The blackness was complete around them as he carefully threaded the car through the muddy ruts. The snow had stopped falling and as Rachel looked out, she realized that her life was changing remarkably and with shocking swiftness. And yet, a sweet joy thrummed through her heart as she held Jenny in her arms. It wasn’t her baby, but that didn’t matter. Her other jobs as a nanny had been with older children. Closing her eyes for a moment, Rachel savored the sense of utter safety she felt despite the turmoil in her life. Was it due to Cade’s nearness? She thought so. How handsome he was. And then, Rachel wondered if he was married.

Opening her eyes, she glanced at his hands on the wheel. He didn’t wear a wedding ring. A lot of men didn’t so it meant nothing. Wetting her lips, she said, “For some reason, when I first saw you out there tonight, you looked married.”

Cade’s mouth thinned. “I was married,” he said abruptly. Realizing he’d snapped at her, he added more softly, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Taking his unexpectedly grim answer in stride, Rachel realized that was a closed topic between them. Yet, as she looked over at him, she saw a terrible grief in the deputy’s eyes. What was that all about? She didn’t dare ask at this point.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her apology seemed to deflate the tension that had suddenly ballooned between them. Cade was like Fort Knox, Rachel decided: closed up and private.

Cade’s mouth thinned. “I’m the one who should apologize. I was married,” he said, voice strained. “Abby and my baby girl, Susannah, were killed in an auto accident two years ago.”

CHAPTER FOUR

RACHEL WAS TOO STUNNED to assimilate Cade’s awful admission. He had lost his family! To some degree she understood his pain, like a knife in the heart. No wonder Cade looked so anguished.

His mother and father, Ray and Gwen, met them at Cade’s sprawling three-thousand-square-foot single-story log home. It was nearly one in the morning. Rachel felt exhausted and yet super alert as Cade opened the car door and helped her out.

Gwen, a woman in her fifties with curly, short silver-and-black hair, led Rachel into Cade’s home. Her gray eyes were sharp and filled with care. Ray went to the kitchen while Gwen took Rachel and the baby toward the back of the house.

“I don’t know if Cade told you, but he lost his wife and daughter two years ago,” she said. Motioning down the hall to an open door on the right, she added, “This was Susannah’s nursery. Cade just hasn’t had the heart to touch it yet. Little Jenny will claim it now. Come on in, I have everything ready.”

Rachel saw the pale pink nursery with the crib and everything a mother would need to care for her infant daughter. The crib even had a baby quilt inside. Gwen took Jenny from her. The infant was just waking up, her eyes half-open.

“Cade said you were going to be the nanny,” Gwen murmured, gently unwrapping Jenny and placing her beneath the colorful baby quilt. “There.” She straightened and turned to Rachel. “I think you should stay in the guest bedroom. There’s a door between it and the nursery.” She motioned toward the wooden pine door.

“But I was going to stay at the cabin I’d rented.”

With a brusque nod, Gwen turned out the light. A wall light shed enough of a glow into the room so that no one would trip or fall. “Yes, I know. Right now, Cade’s in shock. He’s lost Tom, his best friend. Now, Lily.” She hustled out of the room and left the door partly open. With a gesture, she took Rachel to the next room. “He’s going through a lot and he’s going to need help. My husband and I don’t feel he’s in the right state of mind to be caring for this baby yet. We need your help for now, Rachel, if you’re okay with that?”

Entering the bedroom, Rachel nodded. “Of course. I’m the least affected by all of this, so I’ll focus on Jenny’s care, feeding and bathing.”

“Excellent,” Gwen said, giving her a warm smile. She pointed to the queen-size bed. “This is a nice large room. If I were you, I’d keep the door open to Jenny’s room.”

“Oh,” Rachel assured her, “I will. I’m so wired right now, I can’t sleep, anyway.”

“Hmm, aren’t we all.” Placing her hands on her hips Gwen looked around. “I’ve put towels, wash cloth and soap on your dresser over there. The bathroom is right across the hall. Cade’s master-bedroom suite is on the other side of the nursery with a master bathroom. This will be all yours.”

“A hot bath sounds good,” Rachel said. She loved the wedding-ring-design quilt across her bed. The curtains matched the fabric in the quilt. The entire room, even the floor, was knotty pine. A braided green-and-white area rug completed the rustic look.

“I’m sure it does. Just one more thing and we’ll leave you alone. Jenny needs goat’s milk.”

“Cade told me.”

Nodding, Gwen lifted her hand. “Let me show you where we keep the bottles out in the kitchen. And then we’re going home to get some sleep after this crazy night.”

Rachel liked Gwen’s brusque, efficient manner. In some ways, she reminded her of her own mother, Daisy. Both women were short and lean. Gwen’s hands were reddened and chapped. Farm and ranch work took a lot out of the owners and Rachel knew that from experience. Gwen walked quickly to the kitchen.

Cade looked up. He’d been speaking to his father, Ray, at the counter.

“I’m just showing her where Jenny’s goat’s milk is,” Gwen explained, opening the refrigerator.

Rachel noticed the weather-lined face of Ray Garner. He was as tall as his son, but more wiry. He wore a blue-and-white-plaid long-sleeved shirt, jeans and a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. His gray felt Stetson lay on the round table at the end of the kitchen. Gwen slid her hand around Rachel’s arm and pulled her closer to the fridge.

“We milk our goats twice a day. Cade was keeping a good supply for Lily and would take the bottles to her every morning before he went to work. Lily was very health-conscious and Jenny was thriving on goat’s milk.” She shut the fridge and led Rachel to the cabinets near the kitchen sink. “Lily was very old-fashioned. She insisted on glass milk bottles, not the plastic ones. They’re in here.” She pointed up to them in the cabinet. And then in a lower tone, Gwen added, “Abby, Cade’s wife, believed in glass bottles too, and that’s why we have them.”

Heart aching, Rachel realized that Cade had not removed his lost family from the house. Could she have done if it had happened to her? She didn’t think so. “That’s fortunate,” she told Gwen, taking some of the bottles and placing them on the countertop. “Did Abby put the goat’s milk in the bottle and then set it in a pan of water on the stove to heat?”

Grinning, Gwen patted her shoulder. “You’re very bright. Yes. Neither Abby nor Lily believed in using the microwave. They worried it might change the cellular structure of the goat’s milk. So, this might be old-fashioned, but we know it’s completely safe for the baby.”

Rachel nodded. “I was nanny for a little boy from India, and his mother insisted on glass bottles and no microwave, either.”

“Whew, that’s good. I don’t have to train you up in this, then.”

“No, you don’t.”

Patting Rachel on the back, Gwen said, “Listen, this is all you need to know tonight. And by the way, there’s nothing but cotton diapers, no disposables, in the nursery. You okay with that, too?”

Rachel grinned. “No problem. My Indian family was the same way.”

Gwen rubbed her hands. “You and I are going to get along just fine! Go get your bath and hit the hay. I’ll pour some goat’s milk in three bottles and put them in the fridge. That way, when Jenny wakes up hungry in an hour or two, you can stumble out here and get it ready for her.”

“Sounds good,” Rachel said. She walked over to Ray Garner. “Mr. Garner, I’ll say good-night for now. It was nice meeting you.” She held out her hand to him.

Ray nodded, gave her a tired smile and shook her hand. “It’s nice meeting you too, Ms. Carson. I don’t know what we’d do without your coming like a rescuing angel into our lives right now.”

“I’m not an angel by anyone’s definition, Mr. Garner,” Rachel protested. Not after the awful mistakes she’d made.

Ray Garner gave her a kind yet appraising look. Cade was also watching her, making her even more self-conscious. In the middle of so much upheaval, she hated to admit how attracted she was to him. She tried to ignore the feeling and managed a smile. “Cade, I’m going to get a bath and Gwen wants me to stay in the guest room next to Jenny’s nursery. You okay with that?”

“That’s fine,” he said. “It’s a better idea under the circumstances. I appreciate you doing this. Mom said that in about a week, she can transfer you over to your cabin. You don’t have to stay here forever. Once I get legalities out of the way, I can start taking care of Jenny at night when I don’t have duty.”

“We’ll sort this all out as we go along. Good night….”

CADE SAT ON THE EDGE of the bed. He’d just taken a tension-releasing hot shower. As he dried his hair with the white terry-cloth towel, he listened to the quiet of the house. With Jenny and Rachel nearby, the ranch home felt different. He tried to figure out why, but couldn’t.

Reeling from exhaustion, he noticed it was nearly 2:00 a.m. He’d made the call to Lily’s adoptive family earlier, which had left him feeling worse. He padded into the bathroom, hung up the towel and turned off the light. Slats of moonlight filtered into the huge master bedroom through the venetian blinds.

After climbing into bed, Cade pulled up a quilt that had been made by his mother as a wedding gift to Abby and him. His hearing automatically keyed to the partly opened door to the nursery. When Abby had become pregnant, Cade had cut a door into the nursery from their bedroom. Closing his eyes once he punched the pillow into place, Cade remembered the many nights that they would take turns getting up to care for Susannah when she cried out in hunger. Sleep deprivation had been a way of life, but he’d never minded that.

It was happening all over again, and now Cade felt groggy as the night’s events deluged him. What luck to find Rachel. His father had been right: she was an angel in disguise, regardless of how she saw herself. A sigh tore from his lips as he buried his head more into his pillow. It was Christmas morning. What kind of gift had just dropped into his life? Emotions churned through Cade, bringing up the past, the remnants of grief he still felt on some nights in the quiet home. Now, his house was a home once again with a beautiful young stranger and Lily’s baby. What kind of strange, twisted fate was this? Cade couldn’t stop the onslaught of his grief over Lily’s death. Jenny would never know her mother. And suddenly, he was a father without a wife. He had legally sworn to take care of Jenny. Cade wasn’t sure what these Christmas gifts meant. In minutes, he dropped into a deep, badly needed sleep.

THE PHONE WAS RINGING, and Cade jerked awake. He fumbled for the landline on the nightstand. Bright sunlight burst around the wooden venetian blinds.

“Garner here,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes to wake up. Usually the sheriff’s department used this phone to get hold of him when he was off duty. Tossing off the blankets, Cade swung his bare legs out of bed. His feet landed on the warm sheepskin rug next to the king-size bed.

“Cade? This is Gary.”

Blinking, Cade pushed his hair off his brow. Gary Henderson was the commander of the sheriff’s department, his boss. “Yes, sir?”

“Did I wake you up? It’s ten o’clock. Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Late night,” Cade mumbled thickly.

“Yes, that’s why I’m calling. I wanted to make sure little Jenny was okay.”

That was like Henderson. He was a father of two teenage daughters. His wife, Tracy, was a first-grade teacher. “Fine…the hospital doctor said Jenny was fine.” Another scent filled Cade’s nostrils: that of bacon frying. And then he groggily recalled Rachel was here, in his home. Was she out in the kitchen making breakfast? That brought back a sheet of warm memories to Cade.

“Good to hear. Well, listen, you’re going to have court papers to file the day after Christmas because you’re Jenny’s legal guardian. Plus, I’m asking two other deputies to go over to Lily’s home. We need to locate her will and find out what her requests were and try to fill them now that she’s gone.”

“Yes, sir, I know.” And he filled him in with the calls to Lily’s adoptive parents. “There’s a lot on my plate right now.”

“I’m authorizing you a week’s leave with pay, Cade. Your life has suddenly taken a new road and there’s a lot you have to get in order.”

“Thank you, Captain. I really appreciate that.”

“No problem. I guess in one way, Jenny is a Christmas gift to you. If there’s anything you need, just let me know. We’re here to help.”

Grateful, Cade hung up the phone, and felt as if he needed another twelve hours of sleep. He didn’t hear any noise from Jenny’s nursery. Knowing Rachel was up, he grabbed his dark blue terry-cloth robe and pulled it on. He opened the door and walked into the nursery, but Jenny was gone. Probably out with Rachel in the kitchen. Standing there, Cade realized he had to get dressed. He couldn’t just waltz out there like this. Rachel wasn’t his wife. She was an employee.

He turned and went back into the master bedroom. As he pulled on a pair of jeans, blue socks and a blue T-shirt with the words Teton County Sheriff’s Department on it, Cade couldn’t ignore the bubbling happiness simmering in his heart. Abby had always made him breakfast when he’d had the day shift. She had been one hell of a cook. And now he smelled bacon frying once again. More warmth filled his chest.

As crazy as his world was right now, Cade couldn’t ignore the contentment he felt. It was a completely unexpected emotion. Since Abby and Susannah’s passing, he’d felt less than whole. Less than a man. Just a robotic nomad wandering the jungles of life without any real passion or focus, with no dream to work toward. As he finished combing his hair, shaving and brushing his teeth, Cade realized darkly that he’d stopped dreaming after their deaths. Now, the dreams had returned. How odd, how…wonderful.

RACHEL HEARD CADE COMING into the tiled kitchen. It was easy to hear the scuff of boots on the polished pine floor that led into the sunny yellow room. Turning, she saw Cade saunter through the archway. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. How different he looked from Dirk. Cade Garner was clean, neat and shaven. All the things Dirk wasn’t. The contrast was startling as well as powerful.

“Good morning,” Rachel called from the stove.

Cade nodded and saw she had brought Jenny out in a portable bassinet that sat on a chair at the pine table. “Good morning. How’s our girl?” He walked over to see the tyke sleeping soundly. Rachel had changed her clothes and now had her in a green flannel onesie. He tried to pay attention to the baby, but he wanted to stare at Rachel.

“She just gobbled down about four ounces of warm goat’s milk,” Rachel said, smiling as she put the last strips of the fried bacon onto a paper towel. “She’s doing fine.”

“Done her business?” Cade asked, tucking the corner of the baby quilt down a little.

“Oh, yes, that, too. She’s a good girl.”

Lifting his head, Cade studied Rachel. She looked fetching in a pair of cranberry slacks and a long-sleeved pink sweater, with her sable hair tied up in a ponytail behind her head. His body went tight on him. Surprised, Cade straightened and said, “Good.”

“You look exhausted,” Rachel said. She pointed to the table. “I figured you’d be up sooner or later. Would you like some breakfast?”

The table had been set with the white china plates and flatware. The salt and pepper shakers were nearby. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” Cade said. “I never expected it.”

Shrugging, Rachel opened the carton of eggs next to the stove. “I’m here. I have to eat. Why not cook for two instead of one?” Besides, that was what she’d done in her former life: cooked for two. It felt good to do it again. “How do you like your eggs? And how many?”

Moving over to the stove, Cade saw she had found a red-and-white checked apron and had tied it around her waist. His mother had sewn that for Abby. “I’ll take three eggs scrambled.” He went to the toaster and opened up the whole-wheat loaf. “Toast?”

Rachel smiled. “Yes, two slices, please.”

Cade liked the simple partnership that had naturally sprung between them. “You got it,” he said. Out the kitchen window he could see the new snow across the backyard and beyond into the empty cow pastures. The sun was bright, the sky an amazing turquoise color above the rugged Tetons off to the right. Things were looking up. How could they not after what they’d witnessed yesterday?

He brought the butter out of the cabinet and placed it on the table. Going to the fridge, he turned and asked, “Do you like jam on your toast?”

“I do. What kind is in there?”

Searching, Cade leaned down and looked. “Some strawberry and a bit of apricot.”

“I love apricot.”

“Apricot for the lady,” he murmured, pulling it off the shelf.

“I’ll bet you’re a strawberry-jam guy.”

Grinning, Cade said, “Does it show?” He took both jars from the fridge and shut it with a nudge of his hip. When he looked up, her eyes were warm with laughter. There was an incredible ease between them, as if they had known one another forever.

“Mmm, you just remind me of a country-boy type,” Rachel said, breaking the three eggs into the black iron skillet. She grabbed a fork, broke the yokes and rapidly mixed them all together.

“Ah, I see,” Cade said, his mouth lifting. “What does a strawberry-jam man look like?”

She grinned. “Like you, I suppose. As an artist I see the colors, connections and symbols between things.” And because of her abuse from Dirk, Rachel had become hyper-alert and missed nothing. Brenda had told her she had post-traumatic stress disorder. It came from feeling so threatened that she feared for her life. And although several years had gone by without such a threat, the hyper-alertness never left. It was always there, like a frightened animal on the verge of running away in order to survive a coming attack.

“So, cowboys and deputies are strawberry-jam men?” He ambled over and poured himself some coffee. Rachel already had a cup of her own next to the stove. He was interested in how she perceived him. Still, Cade reminded himself that he was going to do a background check on her. Over the years he’d learned never to judge a book by its cover. As he leaned against the counter and watched her scramble the eggs, he hoped the report would come out clean. If it did, then he could trust his eyes…and his heart.

“I guess so,” Rachel said with a shy smile. The way Cade stared at her made her feel incredibly feminine, which was new to her. There was no question Cade Garner was a fine-looking man. Handsome in a rugged, outdoors sort of way, with straight brows above his intelligent gray eyes. The way he slouched comfortably against the counter—that lazy kind of masculinity beckoned strongly to her. Would she be able to keep these new feelings at bay while working for him?

Cade noticed she wouldn’t often meet his eyes. She was shy. Maybe she was an introvert by nature. He supposed that could account for her demeanor. “Are you okay being here in this house with me?” he asked her.

Rachel’s hand poised over the skillet for a moment. Startled, she asked, “Why…yes. Is anything wrong?” She scooped the scrambled eggs onto the plate he’d brought from the table.

“No, no, everything’s fine. I realize we’re strangers and a lot is being asked of you out of the blue. A woman might feel uncomfortable with a man she doesn’t know, more so sleeping in the same house with him.”

“Thanks for your sensitivity,” she said. Breaking two more eggs, Rachel quickly scrambled them for herself. “I always had my own apartment in New York City but sometimes I’d stay overnight at my employer’s home when they were out of town. I’m okay with the arrangement.” Cade couldn’t know that she’d awakened at 7:00 a.m. feeling joyous and safe. Two emotions she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And Rachel knew it was due to that protection that emanated from Cade like a powerful beacon. That and the baby. For Rachel, Christmas had given her the one thing she yearned for the most: a baby to care for. It didn’t matter that Jenny wasn’t her biological child. Just getting to take care of a baby fulfilled her in a way she would never be able to put into words. Maybe, too, it was because of her large, tight farm family in Iowa.

“Thanks,” Cade said. He put the toast on his plate and loaded two more slices into the toaster. “So, if I’m a strawberry-jam man, then that makes you an apricot-jam woman. Right?”

Laughing softly, Rachel brought her scrambled eggs over to the table. Cade positioned himself next to Jenny’s bassinet and Rachel sat down opposite him. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought of myself in that way.”

Buttering his toast, Cade studied her. Rachel’s cheeks were flushed, almost as if she were unaccustomed to this kind of attention. Either that or she was hiding something. He realized upon closer inspection that sable was not her real hair color. She was more a blonde. “I hadn’t, either,” he chuckled.

The toaster popped. Rachel stood and retrieved the browned slices. When she sat back down, her expression was more serious. “Today is Christmas.”

“I know. Merry Christmas. Bet you didn’t think it would be like this, did you?”

She buttered her toast. “I feel like I’m in some kind of dream.” She looked out the window. “And your ranch is like a beautiful picture-postcard to me. This area of the country is truly breathtaking. If you take out yesterday, it’s a merry Christmas for me.”

As he salted and peppered the steaming pile of scrambled eggs on his plate, Cade felt a wonderful familiarity settling over him. Rachel was bright, quick and easy to talk with. Suddenly, breakfast was something special once more. And with baby Jenny sleeping between them, Cade swore he felt giddy. He hadn’t felt this way since his family’s death. “Well,” he said, “at least you didn’t wake up this morning thinking you were in a nightmare.”

Rachel forced a smile. Cade would never know about her nightmare. Slathering a thin layer of apricot jam across her toast, she murmured, “Oh, no, this is a dream. A wonderful one.”

One that Rachel wanted to last forever. But could it, with Dirk Payson out to kill her?

CHAPTER FIVE

DIRK PAYSON SMILED a little. He sat in a motel in Des Moines, Iowa, thumbing through a roll of hundred-dollar bills. He picked up his cigarette, took a deep drag and let the smoke drift out of his thin lips. Everything was going along fine. The Mexican drug cartel had welcomed him back like a long-lost brother. Of course, Dirk knew that that was because he’d been one of their best movers of cocaine into the U.S.A and Canada.

His contact, Pedro Morales, had the Iowa territory to ply his cocaine to the hooked addicts. He gave Dirk ten thousand in cash to reestablish his life after the prison escape. The green felt fine between his fingers. He was free and he had money. Life was good. He was letting his blond beard remain on his face. Last night, he’d bought some dark brown hair coloring. Every day he’d have to add it to his scraggly beard. And he was allowing his blond hair to grow. Luckily for him, he only had to dye it a couple of times a month. Now he knew what a woman went through. Shaking his head, he stood up and put most of the bills in a money belt beneath his red long-sleeved sweatshirt. The rest he put into a billfold.

Looking out the venetian blinds, he saw snow flakes twirling outside. Iowa at Christmas sucked. He hated the cold and snow but he had to connect with Pedro in order to get back into the organization.

His mind turned, as it always did, toward Susan. His sources in prison had been trying to get a lead on her since she’d entered the witness protection program. And on her mother, Daisy Donovan. So far, no luck. But he knew the Iowa farm where Susan had been born was nearby. In the phone book, he’d found the three Donovan brothers, Robert, Marvin and Donald—Susan’s three big brothers. She had been the baby and only girl in the family.

As he moved back to the bed, Dirk turned over possibilities. Because Susan had testified against him as his wife, the FBI had given her and her mother, Daisy, witness protection. The sons had refused it because they didn’t want to leave their five-generation family homestead. Good for them. He grinned, the cigarette clamped between his lips. The smoke made his eyes water.

Having had plenty of time to understand the federal witness protection program, Dirk knew that neither Daisy nor Susan could ever contact their family. Did Daisy and Susan talk, though? Were they allowed to do that? Dirk had not yet been able to find that out. Now that he was free, he would turn to other field assets, a group of computer-hacker friends.

Dirk paced the small room carpeted with a brown rug that had seen much better days. He knew one thing: he wanted to kill Susan. She was the initial target. His mind ranged over trying to find Daisy, but she was of much less interest to him. The three sons lived on the farm with their families. Could he believe that Daisy and Susan never contacted them? He found that tough to swallow. Susan was so tight with her Iowa farm family that she squeaked. And her loyalty to her family had always made him angry.

Sitting down, he snuffed out the cigarette in a yellow glass ashtray on the nightstand beside him. He was just the opposite of Susan: a kid from a broken home with a meth mother and father who were still serving prison time in Alabama. His Southern heritage, however, came in handy from time to time, he’d discovered. With his soft, Southern drawl and good manners, Dirk could fool everyone. His mother, her face pockmarked with craters the size of those on the moon’s surface, had taught him guile and manipulation. That was the way she was and Dirk had learned at an early age how to get his way.

He was the ultimate chameleon—able to bend, shift, change and become what people wanted him to be. It was all a huge manipulation dance, of course, but he’d learned from the best: his mother, Enid. Taking out the phone book, he thumbed through it some more. He wrote down the address of the farm, the full names of the Donovan brothers, and closed it.

First things first. He needed to get a PC laptop. Pedro had given him an email address and a couple of throwaway cell phones so that they could remain in touch. Pedro paid hackers a lot of money to get info, to break into banks and other repositories in order to steal social security numbers. He’d given Dirk a new name and the stolen number of someone who had recently died. Now, he was Steve Larson. Liking his new moniker, Dirk chuckled. Once more, he was a fish in the big sea of drug-running. A chameleon fish.

What to do now? His stomach growled. Across the street was a chain restaurant. Having money to buy food made him feel euphoric. He went to the closet and shrugged into his black parka, pulled a knit cap over his head and tugged on the leather gloves. He’d go eat and enjoy his freedom. Dirk sighed and smiled. How damn good it felt to be out of prison! Knowing the authorities were looking for him, Dirk stayed on the move. He didn’t look anything like his prison picture so the authorities were going to be hard-pressed to find him. All he had to do was stay smart, not drive the rental car over the speed limit and get stopped by some cop.

From the dresser drawer, he pulled a .45 pistol. Pushing it into his coat pocket where it would be unseen, Dirk felt secure now. A gun always made the difference. He took a wool muffler, wrapped it around his neck and tucked the ends of it into the front of his coat. Now, he was prepared to go out into this below-freezing snowstorm.

Trudging through the few inches of snow that had fallen last night, Dirk made it to his Toyota Corolla. The dark blue car was nondescript and that’s how Dirk wanted to be: unseen and unnoticed. He’d have preferred to get a bright red sports car, a Corvette, but that was out of the question. No, he was smart enough to know when to blend in instead of standing out.

Over a Christmas breakfast in a nearly deserted restaurant, Dirk felt the joy of his freedom as never before. Few patrons were around on Christmas morning. As he savored each bite of his ham, cheese and onion omelet, Dirk remembered the holiday with simmering anger. His parents, who were meth dealers, had always been so out of it they didn’t know when a day was or wasn’t a holiday. Dirk recalled the year he was nine years old when his parents had completely forgotten Christmas. When he’d gone back to school after break and all the children were excitedly sharing what they’d gotten, he’d avoided them. Worse, no tree had been put up and decorated, either. Dirk knew about these things because he’d go visit friends and see those glittering, beautiful trees in their homes. Aching to have that in his home, he’d made the mistake of asking his father, Joe, about it.

Dirk tried to avoid that memory—but it stuck with him like a festering cancer. Joe had jerked him off his feet by his T-shirt and slammed him against a wall. The power of his throw had broken the drywall where Dirk had struck it. For that question about Christmas, he’d received several fractured ribs. His mother had been shocked by her husband’s anger. But then, Dirk realized later, his father was high on meth. And meth users were very emotionally un stable when high. Dirk always tried to walk on egg shells around his father during those times. Except for that one mistake when Christmas had seemed really important to everyone except his family and he’d opened his mouth. Dirk learned after that to ignore Christmas and make up lies to his friends at school about the presents he received. Each year, it became easier. The experience taught him how gullible people really were. No one ever checked out his story. This one lesson was intrinsic to his ability to manipulate others to do his bidding. And it had made him a rich man until Susan had squealed on him. The bitch. I’ll find you. And then, I’m going to kill you…an inch at a time. Nothing fast. Just real slow. I want to watch the fear come to your eyes when I walk up to you. I want to hear you beg, see your tears and watch you scream.

IN THE LATE AFTERNOON, after clearing off the sidewalk of snow, Cade entered his home to hear singing. Halting on the mud porch, he listened to Rachel’s bell-like voice. Cade simply stood and listened. When he realized she was singing one of his favorite Christmas songs, “The Angel’s Song,” his heart burst open with an outpouring of gratitude. Abby had had a beautiful voice and belonged to the local church choir. This brought back poignant memories to him.

After Cade removed his boots and walked into the kitchen, warmth surrounded him. Rachel’s alto voice was clear and moved him. He walked quietly to the entrance to the living room and saw Rachel in the rocking chair with Jenny in her arms. She was feeding the baby and singing to her. If anyone was an angel, it was Rachel. Her profile was clean, the soft smile on her mouth made Cade realize just how lost he’d been until just now.

The baby suckled happily on the bottle, her arms waving back and forth. Rachel had a diaper thrown over her shoulder. She took the bottle away from Jenny, lifted her and placed her gently over her shoulder. Her soft, gentle pats on the baby’s lower back brought up several burps.

Laughing, Rachel lifted her up. “My, what a big voice you have.” She grinned at the baby who met her eyes. A smile bloomed on Jenny’s bow-shaped lips. “Hungry for some more now?”

Gurgling, Jenny lifted her hands after Rachel placed her back into the crook of her left arm. The infant suckled strongly and Rachel closed her eyes, feeling as if she were in bliss. Or, maybe it was heaven. Whatever it was, she was happy. Happier than she could recall.

“So,” Cade said, walking into the room, “you’re a singer, too.”

Cade’s gray gaze burned into Rachel. He had just come in, coat in his hand and in his sock feet. There was something vulnerable about Cade despite his remoteness and it tugged at Rachel’s heart. “Oh, I’m no great singer. I just love to sing is all.” She was struck by the sudden thaw in his expression. Generally, when she had seen him, he was scowling. “There’s a difference, you know.”

Crouching down in front of her, Cade gently brushed his index finger along the chubby curve of Jenny’s flushed cheek. “I’d be happy, too, if you were singing to me. My favorite song is the one you were just singing. It’s a Christmas carol we sing in church at this time of year.”

Rachel sucked in a breath as Cade leaned down. His closeness made her heart beat faster. She could feel his warmth, his masculine strength, and, hungrily, she absorbed Cade’s unexpected closeness. Her knees almost brushed his. As male as he was, he was so tender as he grazed Jenny’s cheek and then smoothed her fuzzy black hair across her tiny skull. He’s the opposite of Dirk. Rachel felt her stomach muscles lose their tension over that realization. How could she have been so blind as not to see Dirk for who and what he was? It was a question she’d asked herself a thousand times without a good answer. Her mother and brothers had warned her not to marry him, and she’d ignored their pleas. She’d paid the price.

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