Lassoed

BJ Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The one thing no one told me was how many good

writer friends I would make on this journey.

This one is for Amanda Stevens, who is always there

when I need her. I should add, she is also the scariest

person I know and if you don’t believe it, wait until

you read her new Graveyard series.

Chapter One

The lights came out of the darkness like an oasis in the desert. Billie Rae glanced at the gas gauge on the old pickup, then in her rearview mirror.

She hadn’t seen a vehicle behind her for miles now, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t dare. The pickup engine roared loudly, the speedometer clocked at over a hundred, but it was the gas gauge that had her worried.

She was almost out of fuel. Which meant she was also out of luck.

At the speed she was traveling, the lights ahead were coming up fast. At first she thought it was a small town. She hadn’t seen one for more than fifty miles. But as she sped toward the glittering lights, she realized it wasn’t a town. It appeared to be a fairgrounds aglow with lights.

Suddenly fireworks shot up from the horizon, bursting in the huge ebony sky stretched over this vast Montana prairie. She stared in surprise, realizing with a start what day it was. July 2. Two days away from the Fourth. She let the pickup slow to eighty as the booming fireworks burst around her, momentarily blinding her. The engine coughed. She glanced at the gas gauge. The pickup was running on fumes.

In her headlights she caught sight of the sign to the Whitehorse fairgrounds and another sign that announced Rodeo July 2–4. As the pickup engine coughed again, Billie Rae knew she’d just run out of options as well as gas.

She turned onto the dirt road that had a handmade sign that read Rodeo Parking and let the pickup coast in past dozens of trucks and horse trailers parked in the field around the rodeo arena. Just as the engine died, she pulled the truck into a spot between two pickups and turned off the headlights.

The highway she’d just come down had been nothing but blackness in her rearview mirror. Now, though, she wasn’t surprised to see a set of headlights in the far distance. She’d known she didn’t have much of a head start. Just as she’d known nothing short of dying would keep him from coming after her.

Billie Rae sat for a moment fighting tears. Her chest ached from the sudden loss of hope. Without gas she wasn’t going any farther—as if she really believed she could ever go far enough to get away from Duane. She slumped over the steering wheel.

She’d left the house with only the clothes on her back, and now it was just a matter of minutes before he found her. Duane was no fool. He’d know the pickup would be running low on gas by now and that she hadn’t stopped to fill it up since she had no money. She’d had to leave her purse behind—not that there was any money in it, thanks to Duane. He had kept her a virtual prisoner since their wedding six months ago.

None of that mattered now, though. She should never have run. Duane was right. There was no getting away from him. He’d get a good laugh out of her thinking she could. Hadn’t he said he would follow her to the ends of the earth?

But it was what else he’d said when she’d told him she wanted out of the marriage that made her now begin to tremble in the dark cab of the pickup.

He had grabbed her by the throat and thrown her down on the bed. “You ever leave me and I will hunt you down like a mad dog and hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Her heart began to pound now with both fear and outrage. Duane had been so sweet, so loving, so caring before the wedding. Her mother had just died and she’d needed someone strong to lean on. Duane had provided the broad shoulder. He’d helped her through a tough time.

And then she’d made the mistake of marrying him. It wasn’t that he’d suddenly changed. It was that once he put that ring on her finger, he’d finally revealed who he really was—a bully, a bastard, a batterer.

Her hands were shaking as she let go of the steering wheel. Her fingers ached from gripping it so tightly. Was she just going to sit here and wait for him to find her? He’d done his best to beat her down, but there was still a little fight left in her. She’d left him, hadn’t she? That proved she had more courage than she’d thought and certainly more than Duane had thought.

She wasn’t going back. Nor was she going to let Duane kill her. She had been a young, foolish, enamored woman when she’d married him, but once she’d seen behind the mask to the monster, there was no going back after that. She wasn’t one of those women who thought their husbands would change. Or that it was her fault when her husband took out his bad moods on her.

But there was no denying she was in trouble.

Opening the door, Billie Rae climbed out of the pickup, surprised how weak her knees felt. Between booms of fireworks she heard a vehicle slowing on the highway before the small community fairgrounds. She didn’t dare look and what was the point? She knew who it was.

She quickly worked her way through the pickups and horse trailers, following the sound of the oohs and ahs of the audience in the stands as the fireworks continued to explode over her head. The fireworks were going off closer together. One huge boom rattled in her chest after another. Soon the crowd would be dispersing and leaving.

She felt all her bravado leave as well. Soon everyone would be gone. Maybe she could find a place to hide where Duane wouldn’t … Who was she kidding? Duane was going to find her, and when he did …

Glancing back through the parked vehicles, she caught a glimpse of a large black car driving slowly into the lot. Duane. He’d find the old classic Chevy pickup that had been his father’s pride and joy. He’d find her.

She raced behind the grandstand in blind panic, knowing what he would do when he found her. She shouldn’t have tried to leave him. She should have waited until she had a plan. But when Duane had come home earlier and she’d seen the rage building in him, she’d known how the evening would end and she couldn’t let him hurt her again.

Billie Rae ran, blinded by tears and terror. If she could reach the stands, maybe she could disappear into the crowd—at least temporarily. Eventually, though, the stands would clear out and all that would be left would be her—and Duane.

As she came around the end of the grandstand, she collided with a tall cowboy. She’d been running for her life, glancing back over her shoulder and not looking where she was going, so she was hit hard, with her breath knocked out of her and her feet out from under her. If he hadn’t caught her, she would have fallen to the ground.

“Easy,” the cowboy said, his big hands gripping her shoulders to steady her. Tears continued to spill and she couldn’t quit trembling. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out as she looked up into the man’s handsome face.

He was dressed in boots, jeans and a fancy Western shirt. A gray Stetson was tilted back on his dark head. But it was the kindness in his brown eyes that had her riveted as the fireworks’ grand finale continued.

Huge booms reverberated through her as brilliant colors showered the sky around the two of them in breathtaking beauty. For a few moments, it seemed they were the only two people in the world. As if this show was only for them alone. The cowboy smiled down at her and she felt a hitch in her chest.

The fireworks show ended in hushed dark silence, then the large lights of the fairgrounds blinked on and Billie Rae heard the crunch of gravel under a boot heel at the other end of the large grandstand.

As if coming out of a dream, she swung her gaze to where a dark figure was heading their way. Duane. She would recognize that arrogant gait anywhere.

She tried to pull away from the cowboy, needing to run, but he held on tight to her as the crowd suddenly swarmed around them.

TANNER CHISHOLM WOULD HAVE scoffed at even the idea of love at first sight—until a few moments ago. When the woman had come running out of the darkness behind the grandstand and into his arms in a shower of fireworks, noise and beautiful lights, he’d taken one look at her face and fallen.

Time froze with fireworks going off all around them. When she’d crashed into him he felt as if his whole life had been leading up to that moment. He’d known in an instant that it was no accident that this woman had run into his arms on this warm summer night.

He stared into her wide brown eyes, as her dark curly hair floated around her shoulders. He saw the terror etched in her tear-streaked face, felt her trembling and realized that come hell or high water, he’d do his damnedest to move heaven and earth for this woman.

It was crazy, wonderful and totally out of character. He wasn’t the kind of man who fell in love in a split second. But any man would have seen that this woman was running for her life.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she fought to pull away from him and run. He saw her look behind him again. A man was headed in their direction, fighting the crowd to get to them in a way that left no doubt the man was furious—and coming after the woman in Tanner’s arms.

“Come with me.” Tanner took her hand and pulled her through the crowd. He knew these rodeo grounds like the back of his hand because he’d grown up here, played under these grandstands, ridden in junior rodeo and had later ridden bucking broncs out in the arena.

The woman resisted for only a moment before she let him lead her through the crowd and the darkness toward the shadowy fairground buildings beyond the rodeo arena. From the way she was still trembling, he suspected that the man chasing her meant to hurt her. Or at least she thought so. The fact that she was more afraid of the man than a complete stranger told him the woman was desperate.

As he drew her between two of the fair buildings, he spotted the man fighting his way through the rodeo crowd. Tanner caught the man’s expression under one of the large lights. The heightened fury he saw on the man’s face made him worry he might have made things worse for the woman by trying to protect her.

Too late now. Whatever had the man all riled up, he wasn’t going to be taking it out on this woman. Not tonight, anyway.

Tanner led her between two more buildings, weaving his way through the maze of dark structures, until he reached one he knew would be unlocked. Pulling the door open, he drew her inside, closed the door and turned the lock.

“Who is that out there?” he whispered, still holding her hand in the blackness inside the building.

Silence, then a hoarsely whispered, “My husband.”

Tanner mentally gave himself a swift kick. He really had stepped in it this time. Only a fool jumped into a domestic argument. “Why’s he so angry?”

She started to answer but he felt her freeze as she heard the same sound he did. Someone was running in this direction on the wooden boardwalk in front of the buildings. He didn’t have to tell her to be quiet. He knew she was holding her breath.

The footfalls came to a stop outside the building, the last along the row. Past it was a line of huge cottonwoods cloaked in darkness. With luck, the man would think that was where they had gone.

Tanner could hear the man’s heavy breathing and cursing, then his angry voice as he muttered, “You may have gotten away this time, Billie Rae, but this isn’t over. When I find you, I’m going to make you wish you were dead. That’s if I don’t kill you with my bare hands.”

The man stood outside the door panting hard, then his footfalls ebbed away back the way he’d come. The woman he’d called Billie Rae let go of Tanner’s hand, and he could hear her fumbling with the door lock.

“Not so fast,” Tanner said, reaching around her to turn on the light. They were both blinded for a moment by the sudden light. “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on, because you heard what he just said. That man plans to hurt you. If he hasn’t already,” Tanner added as he saw the fading bruise around her left eye.

WHAT BILLIE RAE HAD HEARD her husband say wasn’t anything new. He’d threatened her plenty of times before, and the threats, she’d learned the hard way, weren’t empty ones.

“I appreciate what you did for me, but I can’t involve you in this,” she said, finally finding her voice.

The cowboy let out a humorless laugh. “I’m already involved up to my hat. Do you have someplace you can go? Family? Friends?”

Billie Rae opened her mouth to lie. Duane had moved her away from what little family and friends she’d had right after the wedding. She’d lost contact over the past six months. Duane had made sure of that. Just as he had thrown a fit when she’d suggested going back to work.

“Your work is in this house, taking care of me. That’s your work.”

“You don’t have anyone you can call, do you?” the cowboy said. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be all right. I know a place you can stay where you will be safe.”

Billie Rae wanted desperately to take the cowboy up on his offer but realized she couldn’t. It had been bad enough when Duane had been after her alone. Now he would be looking for the cowboy he’d seen her with. “No, you don’t understand. Duane will come after you now. I’m so sorry. I should never have put you in this position.”

“You didn’t. I’m the one who dragged you in here,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone.

She tried to protest to whatever he was about to do, but he shushed her.

“I need a ride,” he said into the phone.

She heard laughter on the other end.

“I need you to bring me my pickup. That’s right, it’s parked right where we left it before the rodeo. No, I can’t come get it myself, Marshall, or I wouldn’t have called you. The keys are in it. I’m in the last fairground building. There will be two of us. Make it quick, okay?” He snapped off the phone and gave her a reassuring smile.

Billie Rae wondered if she’d just jumped from the skillet into the fire. But there was something about this man that made her feel safe. It wasn’t just the kindness she saw in his brown eyes.

There was a softness to his voice and his movements that belied his size and the strength she could see in his broad shoulders, muscled arms and callused hands.

This was a man who did manual labor—not one who either sat behind a desk or rode around all day in a car.

“I’m Tanner Chisholm,” he said and held out his hand.

“Billie Rae Johnson.” She realized she’d given him her maiden name instead of her married one.

“My brother Marshall is coming to pick us up in my truck, then we’ll go out to the ranch where my stepmother, Emma, will make you feel at home. She’ll insist you have something to eat. She does that to everyone. Humor her; it is much easier in the long run.” He smiled. “You’ll like Emma. Everyone does.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose—”

“Trust me, it is impossible to impose at the Chisholm ranch. If anything, Emma and my father, Hoyt, will want to adopt you.”

She felt tears well and quickly brushed them away. “Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re in trouble and I’m a sucker for a woman who needs my help,” he joked. “Seriously, whatever is going on, you need someplace to stay tonight at least and to give your husband a chance to calm down.”

As if Duane was going to calm down, she thought with a grimace. All of this would have him foaming at the mouth with fury.

“I assume you drove to the rodeo?”

“A pickup. It’s out of gas. But—”

“My brother and I will see to it tomorrow. It will be safe here tonight.”

Maybe the truck would be safe but the brothers wouldn’t be if they came to fetch it tomorrow. Duane would be watching it and waiting.

She had to stop this now. She knew Duane, knew what he would do to this cowboy. “You have to let me go,” she said as she reached for the doorknob again. “You don’t know my husband. He’ll come after you—”

“I think I do know your husband,” Tanner said and gently touched her cheek under her left eye with his fingertips. She flinched, not because her bruised cheek still hurt, but because she’d forgotten about her healing black eye and now this kind cowboy knew her hidden shame.

At the sound of a truck pulling up outside the building, Tanner said, “That will be Marshall.” He opened the door a crack and looked out as if checking to make sure the coast was clear. “I come from a large ranch family that sticks together. I have five brothers. Your husband isn’t going to take on the six of us, trust me.”

Before she could argue, he quickly ushered her out to a large ranch truck. She noticed the sign printed on the side: Chisholm Cattle Company. Tanner opened the truck door, then taking her waist in both of his large hands, lifted her in before sliding into the bench seat next to her.

“Marshall, meet Billie Rae. Billie Rae, my big brother Marshall.”

The cowboy behind the wheel grinned. Like his brother, Marshall had dark hair and brown eyes reflecting his Native American ancestry. Both men were very handsome but there was also something kind and comforting in their faces.

“I’d appreciate it if you got this truck moving,” Tanner said, glancing in his side mirror. He turned back to Billie Rae, plucked a cowboy hat from the gun rack behind her and dropped it onto her long, dark, curly hair.

Marshall laughed. “So you got yourself into some kind of trouble and apparently involved this pretty little lady in the midst of it, huh?” He shook his head, but he got the truck moving.

As they drove out the back way of the fairgrounds, Billie Rae stared through the windshield from under the brim of the hat, afraid she’d see Duane in the dispersing crowd. Or worse, Duane would see her—and the name of the ranch painted on the side of the truck.

Chapter Two

Duane Rasmussen leaned against his father’s pickup, arms crossed over his chest, his heart pounding with both anger and anticipation.

The fairgrounds were still clearing out. His head hurt from searching the crowd and waiting to see Billie Rae’s contrite face.

She would come crawling back, apologizing and saying how sorry she was. She’d be a lot sorrier when he got through with her. The thought kicked up his pulse to a nice familiar throb he could feel in his thick neck.

As his daddy used to say, “A man who can’t control his woman is no man at all.”

He used to think his old man was a mean SOB. But Duane hadn’t understood what his father had to contend with when it came to living with a woman. Sometimes just opening the door and seeing Billie Rae with that look on her face …

Duane couldn’t describe it any other way than as a deer-in-the-headlights look. It made him want to wipe it off her face. He hated it when she acted as if she had to fear him.

He had told her repeatedly that he loved her and that the only reason he had to get tough with her sometimes was because she made him mad. Or when she acted like she was walking around on eggshells, treating him as if she thought he might go off at any moment and slap her.

Didn’t he realize how that would make him even angrier with her?

Duane shook his head now. He’d never be able to understand his wife.

Like this little trick she’d just pulled, taking off on him. What the hell was she thinking? She’d been so sweet and compliant when they were dating. She’d liked it when he took care of her, told her what was best for her, didn’t bother her with making any of the decisions.

He couldn’t understand what had changed her. It was a mystery to him especially since he’d given the woman everything—she didn’t even have to work outside the home.

He’d squashed all talk of her looking for a job after they’d moved. No wife of his was working. Every man knew that working outside the home ruined a woman. They got all kinds of strange ideas into their heads. Let a woman be too independent and you were just asking for trouble.

With a curse, he saw that the parking area was almost empty. Only a few stragglers wandered out from the direction of the rodeo grandstands. The rodeo cowboys had loaded up their stock and taken off. The parking lot in the field next to the fairgrounds was empty.

A sliver of worry burrowed under his skin. Where was Billie Rae? Still hiding in those trees to the west of the fairgrounds? The night air was cooling quickly. She wasn’t dressed for spending the night in the woods, not this far north in Montana.

That was another thing that puzzled him, the way she’d taken off. She hadn’t planned this as far as he could tell. He’d found her purse and her house key. She hadn’t even taken a decent jacket, and it appeared she’d left with nothing more than the clothes on her back. How stupid was that?

He settled in to wait. When she got cold and hungry she’d come back to the pickup. She’d know he would be waiting for her, so she’d come with her tail between her legs. He smiled at the thought. Of course Billie Rae would come back. Where else could she go?

EMMA CHISHOLM TOOK ONE LOOK at the woman her stepson had brought home from the rodeo and recognized herself—thirty years ago. It gave her a start to have a reminder show up at her front door after all these years.

All of it was too familiar, the terror in the young woman’s eyes, the fading bruises, the insecurity and indecision in her movements and the panic and pain etched in her face.

The worst part, Emma knew, was the memory of the tearful promises that would be forgotten in an instant the next time. But it was those tender moments that gave every battered woman hope that this time, her lover really would never do it again. They called it the honeymoon period. It came right before the next beating—and that beating was always worse than the one before.

It made her heart ache just to look at the woman. A part of Emma wanted to distance herself, deny that she had been this young woman, but if there was one thing she’d learned, it was that all things circled back at you for a reason.

“This is Billie Rae Johnson,” Tanner said. “Her car broke down at the rodeo. I told her we had plenty of room and that we’d get her fixed up in the morning.”

Emma smiled and held out her hand to the young woman. “I’m Emma. We are delighted to have you stay with us as long as you’d like.” Her gaze shifted to Tanner.

He’d never been one to exaggerate or lie, but she didn’t believe his story for a moment. Billie Rae was on the run. Emma knew the look, remembered it only too well. Her heart went out to Billie Rae.

“I don’t want to be an imposition.” Billie Rae was a beauty, but Emma knew that her stepson had seen beyond that. Tanner was like his father, who brought home those in need. Was that one reason Hoyt had fallen in love with her? Because he’d seen the need in Emma herself?

“I promise you it is no imposition,” Emma said. “I love having guests, especially female ones. I’m so outnumbered around here.”

“Thank you,” Billie Rae said. She looked exhausted. No doubt she’d been running on adrenaline and fear for hours and was about to crash.

“Why don’t I show you up to one of our many guest rooms?” Emma said quickly. “Since all six of the boys have their own places now, we have more empty bedrooms than you can shake a stick at. Then I’ll get you a snack. It always helps me sleep.”

Billie Rae glanced at Tanner, who smiled and nodded, then she followed Emma without a word.

“You have this whole wing to yourself,” Emma said when they reached one of the rooms that was always made up for guests. “So please, make yourself at home and if there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t be here more than tonight.”

Emma smiled. “Get some rest. Sometimes it takes more than a night. You are welcome to stay as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

Billie Rae nodded, tears coming to her eyes. “You’re very kind.”

“No, I’ve been where you are right now.” Admitting it was easier than she’d thought it would be.

For a moment, the young woman looked as if she was going to deny it or pretend she didn’t know what Emma was talking about.

“I was with a man who kicked the hell out of me on a regular basis,” Emma said, surprised how easily too the anger came back. “Oh sure, he was always sorry. It was for my own good. He loved me. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t for my own good, just as it wasn’t my fault and that nothing I did or could do would change him. He didn’t love me. He didn’t know what love was.”

Tears spilled over Billie Rae’s cheeks. “I’m just so embarrassed.”

Emma took her hand and they sat down on the edge of the bed. “Embarrassed? Oh, sweetie, you have done nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I married the wrong man. He … fooled me.”

She nodded. “But you got smart and left him.”

“He told me he’ll kill me and I don’t doubt it,” Billie Rae said, brushing angrily at her tears.

Emma shook her head. “He isn’t going to find you here. Tomorrow you can decide what to do next.”

“You don’t know Duane. I’m afraid he’ll find out that you all helped me and do something terrible to you.”

“Honey, that’s why there’s a shotgun in this house. Trust Tanner. He’s a good man.” She studied the young woman for a moment. “I don’t know if you believe in fate or not, but I can tell you this. Tanner finding you and bringing you here was no accident.”

AS DUANE SAT IN THE empty fairgrounds in the dark, he knew where he’d made his mistake. If he’d gotten Billie Rae pregnant right away, none of this would be happening. But instead he’d listened to his wife, who’d wanted to wait until they were “settled in as a couple,” as she called it.

With a surge of angry resentment, he realized she just wanted to make sure the marriage was to her liking. That he was to her liking.

Duane swore under his breath. Wait until he got his hands on her. He’d show her. She would never pull a stunt like this again. He’d kill her if she did. That was if he didn’t end up killing her this time. He flushed, embarrassed to be put in this position, as the scent of fried food still drifted on the breeze coming through the open window of his Lincoln.

The last of the lights of the rodeo vehicles had dimmed away to darkness in the distance, all headed west. From the faint glow on the horizon, Duane figured the closest Montana town had to be up the highway. He was hungry and tired and even his anger couldn’t keep him going much longer.

Duane looked around. It was just his car now and his father’s pickup.

Where the hell was Billie Rae?

He waited until the night air cooled to a chill before he put up his car window, started the engine and drove down to park by the pickup. Billie Rae would be coming back soon and he didn’t want to miss her.

A thought struck him like a blow. Unless she’d left with someone.

That cowboy he’d seen her with?

He couldn’t get his mind around that. But then he’d thought he’d made it clear to Billie Rae what would happen to her if she ever tried to leave him—or to anyone who helped her. She’d made a friend who thought she could come between them. That friend was no longer anywhere around, now, was she?

Duane had thought Billie Rae had learned her lesson that time. But apparently that hadn’t stopped her from “befriending” someone else who thought they could interfere in his marriage to her.

None of this was like Billie Rae, he thought as the hours wore on, and he felt an uncertainty that rattled him. For the first time, he wasn’t sure he knew his wife as well as he thought he did.

AFTER HER TALK WITH Emma Chisholm, Billie Rae showered, slipped into the cotton nightgown left for her on the huge bed and slid between the sheets that smelled like fresh air.

Emma had also left her a glass of milk and a plate of sliced homemade banana bread. Billie Rae had eaten all of it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was or that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she could breathe as she got up to brush her teeth with the new toothbrush Emma had set out for her. The cool night air blew in through the open window next to her bed as she crawled back under the covers. The breeze billowed the sheer white curtains. She could see the outline of mountains in the distance, smell sage and hay beyond the fresh clean scent of the line-dried linens on the bed.

But it was the sweet scent of freedom that she gulped in as if she was a drowning woman finally coming up for air. She was still half-afraid to believe it, but lying here in this house, she was filled with a sense of peace like none she had felt since she’d married Duane.

Don’t rest too easy. I’m still out here looking for you. And when I find you—

She took another deep breath, chasing away the sound of Duane’s voice. Like Scarlett O’Hara, she wouldn’t think about tomorrow. For tonight, she was alive and safe, and that was more than she had hoped for.

At a tap at her door, she said, “Come in,” thinking it would be Emma.

“I just wanted to check on you and make sure you have everything you need,” Tanner said, peeking around the door.

“I’m fine.” More than fine. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said. “I’ll be just down the hall.”

She couldn’t help her surprise. Emma said that all the Chisholm sons had their own places now. “I thought—”

“I decided to stay here tonight.” He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “In case you …”

“Needed anything,” she finished for him, smiling.

“Good night, then,” he said and closed the door.

Billie Rae lay in the bed still smiling, remembering what Emma had said. Trust Tanner. She did. She closed her eyes, dead tired, aching for sleep, but quickly opened them as Duane’s image appeared as if waiting to taunt her in a nightmare.

Trust Tanner? Do you really think that cowboy or his whole damned family can save you?

She touched her diamond engagement ring in the darkness, the thick band of white gold next to it a reminder of who she was. Mrs. Duane Rasmussen, as if she could forget it.

Were you listening to that preacher? Till death do us part, Billie Rae. And that, sweetheart, is the way it is going to be, come hell or high water. You understand me, or am I going to have to refresh your memory?

As she spun the band in a circle, she thought about what Emma had said about fate. Did she believe in fate? Tanner had saved her tonight, he’d brought her to this house, to his stepmother, Emma, who had known instinctively what Billie Rae was going through.

Maybe fate had brought her together with this family tonight, but Billie Rae knew she had to run again come morning.

Slowly she took off the rings to set them on the bedside table. The diamond winked at her in the light of the star-filled night coming in through the sheer, billowing curtains.

You really think it’s that easy to be rid of me?

She got up, stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do with the rings. Her first impulse was to throw them away, but common sense won out. The rings were worth money and she was going to need some if she hoped to stay free of Duane. She put them in the pocket of her slacks.

As she climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers up, she felt stronger than she had since she married Duane. It had been fate that she’d met Tanner Chisholm and that he’d brought her to this house. She’d been ready to give up and go back to Duane, believing she had no choice.

But now she felt as if she could do this. She would do this. She had let Duane Rasmussen bully her for too long.

This time when she closed her eyes she pictured Tanner Chisholm’s face. But she didn’t kid herself that Duane wouldn’t be nearby waiting to ruin her sleep.

TANNER WOKE TO SCREAMING. He bolted upright in bed, confused for a moment where he was. As everything came back in a rush, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his jeans and ran barefoot down the hall.

His conscious mind told him it was impossible that Billie Rae’s husband had found her here. That there was no way the man could be in the house. Worse, that he could have found the bedroom where she slept and—

He shoved open the door. Faint light shone through the sheer curtains at the large window next to her bed. A shaft of light from the hallway shot across the floor, making a path into the room. Tanner felt his heart break at the sounds coming from the bed. He rushed to Billie Rae.

She came out of the dream swinging her arms wildly. He didn’t have to guess who she was trying to fight off.

“It’s me, Billie Rae. Tanner. Tanner Chisholm.”

Her eyes were wild with panic. She blinked at the sound of his voice and slowly focused on his face in the dim light before bursting into tears.

“You had a bad dream, but you’re all right,” he said as he sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. As he stroked her hair, he whispered, “It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re all right.”

She clung to him, sobbing, her breathing ragged. He could feel her damp cotton nightgown against his bare chest. She was shivering uncontrollably from the cold, from whatever horror still clung to her from the nightmare.

He held her close, continuing to stroke her hair and whisper words of comfort while all the time he wanted to kill the man who’d hurt this woman.

“Your nightgown is damp with sweat,” he said after her breathing became more normal. Shadows played on the walls, the breeze whipped the sheer curtains and outside the window, a branch scraped against the house.

As he started to pull away, she cried, “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get you something warm and dry to sleep in.” He hurried to his room, rummaged through a drawer where he’d left some of his old clothing. He found a large soft-worn T-shirt and hurried back to Billie Rae’s room.

She was sitting up in the bed, clutching the covers to her chest. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her again. “Here, take off the nightgown and put this on.” He turned his back. He heard her behind him struggling to get out of the damp nightgown and knew she was still trembling from her nightmare.

What had her husband done to her to make her so frightened? He recalled what he’d heard the man say outside the door at the fairgrounds. But he’d thought them merely angry words. It wasn’t until he’d seen the bruised area around Billie Rae’s eye that he’d realized why she was so afraid of her husband.

Now he heard her pull on the T-shirt and lay back against the headboard.

He turned to look at her, jolted again by that strong emotion he’d felt under the lights of the exploding fireworks. Her face was lovely in the faint starlight. He couldn’t imagine her ever looking more beautiful or desirable. Or vulnerable.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asked, starting to get to his feet, knowing what could happen if he stayed.

Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He slowly sat back down.

There was a pleading in her brown eyes, along with flecks of gold.

“You want me to stay?”

She swallowed and he could see the battle going on inside her reflected in those big eyes. As he looked down, he saw that she’d taken off her wedding rings. There was a wide white mark where they had been.

He raised his gaze to her eyes again. “Slide over. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”

He saw relief, gratitude and something he didn’t dare think about too long in those eyes.

She slid over and he lay down next to her. She moved closer as if desperately needing to know he was still there. He put his arms around her and drew her to him. She fit against him perfectly. He nestled his head against the pillow of her dark, luxurious hair and breathed in her scent. She smelled of soap and summer. He closed his eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart in sync with hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I—”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

BILLIE RAE WOKE IN THE wee hours of the morning from a wonderful dream. She lay very still, keeping her eyes closed as she tried to get back into the dream. But it stayed just out of reach, slipping further away, and she finally opened her eyes.

She thought she was at home, so when the horrible dread she always woke with settled over her, she closed her eyes again, pleading silently for the dream and the man in it who had made her feel so loved. Like in the dream, the arms around her didn’t hold her as tightly as Duane’s did. Tanner held her gently, not as if he feared she would get away, but more like he wanted to keep her safe.

With a start, she came fully awake. She had gotten away from Duane.

Tanner shifted in his sleep and for a moment she feared he would let her go. She had never met anyone like him. She hadn’t dated all that much before she met Duane. In college, she’d had to get good grades to keep her scholarships and still help her mother, who had by then been diagnosed with cancer, so she’d had no time for a social life.

She’d never been held this tenderly, never felt this safe and secure, never felt … the emotions she was experiencing at this moment—not even the first time she’d gone to bed with Duane. He’d been disappointed she wasn’t a virgin and that had spoiled their lovemaking for both of them. After that, he was always much rougher as if he was punishing her for losing her virginity to the boy she’d dated all through high school and thought she was in love with.

Scott had been a nice boy, but just that—a boy.

After high school, they’d gone to different colleges. They’d stayed in touch for a while, but had grown apart. Billie Rae had been thankful for that since she’d known by then that Scott wasn’t the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

She’d met Duane right after her mother died. Looking back, she saw that he had taken advantage of the vulnerable state she’d been in. She’d needed someone to lean on and Duane had made sure he was there, taking over her life, running it.

The problem was that when she no longer needed him in that way or wanted him to run her life, it was too late. By then, she’d needed and wanted something different from him. But Duane wasn’t a giving, loving man. Nor was he going to let her go. He’d whisked her off to Vegas for a quickie marriage, selling it as romantic.

Hadn’t she known that night, standing in a gaudy wedding chapel on the strip in front of a justice of the peace and his wife, that she was making a mistake? She remembered feeling as if she might faint. Duane had told her she just needed food and that he would feed her right after the ceremony.

Instead, they’d flown straight home as the sun came up and he’d sprung the news on her. They were moving to North Dakota.

Tanner shifted again in his sleep. Billie Rae held her breath, afraid he would awaken and leave her. A part of the dream returned, startling her because there was no doubt that the man in it had been Tanner Chisholm.

She sensed him coming awake and turned in his arms to face him. It was still dark out. In the faint starlight, she could see his bare chest, a light sprinkling of dark hair that formed a V disappear into the waistband of his jeans.

She met his gaze and felt a bubble form in her chest. Her heart began to beat faster.

He started to pull away, but she cupped his jaw and he froze. “Billie Rae—”

Her thumb moved to his lips and she shook her head, her gaze holding his. She hadn’t felt desire in a long time. It felt raw and powerful and urgent. Under normal circumstances she would have never acted upon it with a man she hardly knew.

She brushed a lock of dark hair back from Tanner’s wonderful face, feeling as if she knew him soul-deep. Her fingers tingled at the touch. By the time the sun set tomorrow there was a good chance Duane would have caught up with her and, if not killed her, definitely hurt her.

There were some things she couldn’t live with. Duane was one of them. The other was not acting on what she was feeling at this moment, knowing it might be her last day alive.

Slowly, she leaned toward Tanner and brushed a kiss over his lips. Her pulse thundered in her ears as he gently drew her to him. His kiss was light as the summer breeze coming through the window. His hands came up to cup her face in his warm, callused palms.

Desire burned through her veins like a runaway train on a downhill track. As the kiss deepened, his fingers burrowed into her wild mane of hair. She shoved back the covers, needing to feel the warmth of his body against her, desperate for his human touch after months of flinching whenever Duane reached for her.

Tanner drew her to him, rolling over on his back and pulling her on top of him. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

She kissed him, sat up and then grabbing the hem of the large T-shirt, she pulled it up over her head and tossed it away. She heard Tanner moan, and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his thumbs gently teasing her nipples, which were already hard as marbles.

He drew her down again, kissing her softly. She rolled off him and wriggled out of her panties, desperately needing to feel his warm flesh against hers. She heard him slip out of his jeans and then he was pulling her into his arms. He brushed a tendril of hair back from her cheek.

Their eyes locked as he slowly and sweetly began to make love to her.

Chapter Three

Duane woke in his car, cramped and out of sorts. He couldn’t believe he’d had to spend the entire night in a fairgrounds parking lot in the middle of nowhere.

As he climbed out, he looked into the front seat of his father’s classic pickup, expecting to see Billie Rae curled up there. He’d been so sure she would return, probably with some cowboy with a can of gas for the pickup and some romantic ideas for her.

But he hadn’t heard a sound all night and the pickup front seat was empty. No Billie Rae. With a curse, Duane realized he was going to have to call his boss and ask for some time off.

As for his wife, he didn’t know what to do. First, he supposed, he would search for her himself. Someone had to have seen her. If that failed … Well, he might have to contact a couple of associates he’d met through his work. The nice thing about his job was that he met people who could and would do things for him that he’d rather not do himself. A little pressure here, a little pressure there, and people knew better than to say no to him.

He pulled out his cell phone, swearing under his breath as he punched in the number and asked for his boss. The last thing he’d do was admit the truth. He didn’t want anyone to know what the bitch had done, how she’d made him look like a fool, let alone that he couldn’t handle his own wife. He’d never live it down if his buddies found out about this. Other men lost respect for a man whose wife ran off on him.

No, he would take care of this himself and no one back home would be the wiser. That is, as long as he found Billie Rae fast. And one way or the other, he’d have to convince her never to pull something like this again. Either that or his lovely wife would end up dead, a terrible accident that would leave him a grieving widower—and free to find him a wife who knew her place.

He came up with a lame excuse, but his boss seemed to buy it. As he hung up, he told himself it was now time to deal with the mess Billie Rae had made. Walking around to the driver’s side, Duane unlocked the pickup with his key and stared into it for a long moment, thinking about Billie Rae taking it. The truck had been his father’s, purchased new almost fifty years before. His old man had loved this pickup and cared for it like a baby.

Hell, Duane had never even gotten to drive it until the old man died. His mother had been the one to give it to him—had his father known he was going to fall over dead with a heart attack he would have made other arrangements for his beloved classic pickup.

But Duane’s mother hated the truck and resented the time and money and care the old man had put into it. She’d given it to Duane out of spite, knowing his father was now rolling over in his grave to think that his son had the truck. Which made Duane even angrier that Billie Rae had the impudence to take it. The woman must be crazy. No one drove this pickup but him.

As he slid behind the wheel, he saw that she’d left the key in the ignition and swore. Her lack of respect … He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

He reached to turn the key and saw that it was the spare he kept locked up. She’d broken into his desk? He hadn’t even been aware she knew where he kept the spare key.

Duane felt that strange chill creep over him again. Billie Rae had been watching him, paying more attention than he’d thought.

He turned the key. The engine refused to turn over. That’s when he saw the gas gauge. She’d run out of gas. That’s why she’d stopped here.

The tap on his side window startled him. For an instant, he’d expected to see Billie Rae standing there instead of some old guy in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap.

“Trouble getting her started?” the old man asked.

Duane realized the man must be the caretaker in charge of the fairgrounds. He hadn’t heard him drive up. Duane climbed out, pocketing the truck key.

“The wife. She didn’t check the gas gauge before she headed to the rodeo.”

The old man laughed and shook his head. “I’m surprised you let her drive this. A 1962 Chevy Fleetside Shortbed with a Vortec 350, right?”

Duane nodded as he watched the caretaker run his hand over the hood. His old man had to be turning flips in his casket. He’d never let anyone touch his truck.

“You don’t happen to have a few gallons of gas I could buy from you to get her into town, do you?” Duane asked.

“I haven’t seen her around town,” the man said frowning, still talking about the pickup. “You new to Whitehorse?”

So Whitehorse must be the closest town. “You could say that. If I had a hose, I could siphon some gas out of my car,” Duane said impatiently.

“No need for that. I keep some extra gas for the lawnmower.”

Duane followed the man back to a shed, waited while he unlocked the padlock on the door and went inside, returning with a small gas can that felt about half full.

“I’ll bring this right back,” he said, hoping the man wouldn’t come with him. He hurried off, returning shortly, and handed the man the gas can and a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks for your help.” He had a thought. “Hey, is there any chance I could leave the pickup in one of your barns out here. My wife is tied up and I need to get back to her. I can’t come back to get the truck for a while.”

“No problem. You can just pull it in that one,” the old man said pointing at the closest barn. “It will be plenty safe there until you can pick her up.”

“Great,” he started to turn away telling himself he had no choice since he couldn’t drive two vehicles and who knew when he’d find Billie Rae. Nor did he want anyone else driving the truck.

“You’re going to have to teach your wife to watch that gas gauge,” the old man called after him with a chuckle.

He was going to have to teach his wife a lot of things when he found her.

“GOOD MORNING,” BILLIE RAE said shyly from the kitchen doorway.

Tanner looked up. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of coffee with Emma, who’d been chastising him.

He knew she was right. He’d fallen for a woman who was not just married—but in a very vulnerable state right now. He should have known better than to get more involved with her for not just his sake but hers as well.

When he met her gaze now, he was afraid he would see regret in her eyes. The morning light brought out the gold flecks in those eyes. With relief, he saw that they were free of regret. Their eyes locked and, after a moment, a slight flush came to her cheeks before she looked away.

They’d made love and fallen back to sleep in each other’s arms. When he’d awakened this morning, she’d looked so beautiful and so serene lying there, he hadn’t wanted to wake her.

He looked down into his coffee cup now, checking his expression as he felt Emma’s watchful gaze on him. She’d already given him hell, telling him that she couldn’t bear to see him get his heart broken and Billie Rae wasn’t ready for another relationship.

“Sleep well?” Emma asked smiling as she handed Billie Rae a mug of coffee.

“Yes, thank you,” Billie Rae said dropping her gaze and blushing as she took the mug and sat down in a chair across from Tanner.

Tanner smiled across the table at her. She looked a hundred percent better than she had last night at the rodeo. There was no longer that deer-in-the-head-lights look in her eyes. Her long dark hair was still damp from her shower. He caught a whiff of her now too-familiar scent. She smelled heavenly. He couldn’t help but think about their lovemaking and wish he had awakened her this morning.

Emma refilled his coffee cup, giving him another of her knowing looks. This one held a warning he couldn’t ignore. He knew making love with Billie Rae shouldn’t have happened. Legally, she was a married woman. But to his way of thinking, Duane had broken the vows, destroying that fragile thing that made a marriage.

He knew Emma was worried about him getting too close to Billie Rae and getting his heart broken. But he wondered if it wasn’t already too late. Damned if he would ever regret what had happened between them, no matter what today brought. He didn’t kid himself. He knew that Duane was still out there looking for Billie Rae—and that she knew it as well. Whatever was going to transpire between them, it wasn’t over yet.

Emma kept up a cheerful chatter as she and the cook, Celeste, served homemade pancakes with huckleberry syrup. Tanner watched Billie Rae put away a dozen of the silver-dollar-sized cakes, smiling to himself. A good appetite was a sure sign that she was bouncing back.

“She doesn’t want to hear any of this,” Tanner said after Emma told a particularly funny story she’d heard about him as a boy. Billie Rae was smiling, looking relaxed, looking as if she belonged in this kitchen.

“I wish you’d gotten a chance to meet my husband Hoyt,” Emma was saying. “He could tell you some stories about his boys. But Hoyt’s off digging fence post holes with Tanner’s brothers.”

Hoyt hadn’t been home last night when Tanner and Marshall returned from the rodeo with Billie Rae. Tanner’s father, according to Emma, had been at a ranchers’ association meeting about some rustlers operating across the border in Wyoming.

It was odd, though, that Hoyt had already taken off so early this morning. Tanner hadn’t even seen him before he left. His father had been putting in long hours recently, almost as if avoiding home.

He frowned at the thought and hoped everything was all right between his father and Emma. He and his brothers hadn’t been happy when their father had sprung a new wife on them. But once they’d been around Emma for five minutes, they too had fallen in love with her.

Tanner was told she was nothing like Hoyt’s other wives. He’d been too young to remember Laura, his father’s first wife. She’d drowned in a boating accident. Tasha, his father’s second wife, Tanner had heard was killed by a runaway horse.

A third wife, Krystal, had disappeared shortly after Hoyt had brought her to the ranch. Tanner vaguely remembered her. After all that tragedy, his father had gone years without a woman in his life.

Then, out of the blue, he’d come home with Emma. She was older, closer to Hoyt’s age, more full-figured, redheaded and had a fiery temper that had earned her respect from all of the men in the family. She’d changed things around here, but in a good way. And Tanner had never seen his father happier. Until recently, when he seemed to be avoiding being home.

“What would you like to do first this morning?” he asked Billie Rae after breakfast.

“Is there a pawnshop or jewelry store in Whitehorse?”

Tanner shook his head. “But there are several in Havre. I’d be happy to drive you.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly ask you—”

“You didn’t ask. I’m volunteering, unless you need to go back to the fairgrounds for your vehicle?”

“The pickup I was driving isn’t mine.”

“Then I guess we don’t need to worry about it.”

She nodded but he saw the dark cloud move over her eyes. She had a lot to worry about. They both did. She was worried about Duane, and Tanner was worried that this woman who had come crashing into his life would leave it just as suddenly.

“It’s a nice drive to Havre,” he said. “We’ll have lunch and shop for whatever you need. I could use the day off, but don’t tell my stepmother.”

Emma swatted him as she passed.

Billie Rae nodded, tears in her eyes. “You have all been so kind. I really wish—”

“No regrets.” Emma stopped next to her chair to lay a hand on her shoulder. “No tears, either, not on such a beautiful morning,” she said. “You two best get goin’. Make sure Billie Rae gets whatever she needs in Havre.” Emma pressed a wad of cash into Tanner’s hand along with another silent warning look.

He was to make sure nothing happened to Billie Rae and that he didn’t make things worse for her—as if he hadn’t already.

“We’ll be fine,” he told his stepmother. He had a shotgun in his pickup, and this morning he’d put a pistol under the seat. He wasn’t taking any chances—he’d already done that last night.

SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD looked up to find a young woman standing in front of her desk.

“There wasn’t anyone out front,” the teenager said, looking nervous. She was slightly built, though tall and regal in appearance. Her straight shoulder-length hair was white blond, her eyes a clear, disarming blue. She had a pretty face that belied how young she really was, since on closer inspection McCall realized she was no more than a girl, probably not even out of high school.

“Can I help you?” McCall asked the girl.

“You’re the sheriff?” She glanced at the open door and the name stenciled on it. “I thought the sheriff’s name was Winchester?”

“I recently got married.” It had been more than a year and a half, but McCall was wondering why she’d bothered to change her name, since everyone in town still called her Sheriff Winchester. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what seems to be the problem.”

“It’s my aunt, Aggie Wells,” the girl said as she pulled up one of the orange plastic chairs across from McCall’s desk and sat down. “She’s missing.”

“How long has she been missing?”

“Several weeks now.”

Several weeks? “Why have you waited this long to report her missing, Miss … ? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cindy Ross. My aunt is gone a lot with her job. But this time she didn’t call or come home.”

“Where is home?”

“Phoenix, Arizona. That’s where I live with my father.”

“And your aunt?”

“She stays with us when she’s in town. Like I said, she travels a lot but she calls me every few days from wherever she is and always calls on Sunday.”

“So you haven’t heard from her since …”

“The second week of May, that Sunday. She called to say she would be flying home that afternoon.”

“Called from … ?”

“Here. Whitehorse. She said she was driving to Billings, leaving her rental car and would be coming in on the last flight. I was to pick her up but she wasn’t on the plane.”

“And there has been no word?”

“No. My dad said something must have come up with her job.” The girl looked down in her lap. “But when I called her office, they said she’d been fired a long time ago.” She looked up, tears in her eyes. “I’m afraid something has happened to her.”

“What does your father think?” The girl met her gaze, but didn’t respond. “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

“He says Aggie can take care of herself and that she’ll turn up. But I have a bad feeling …”

McCall didn’t like the sound of any of this. She picked up her pen. “Your aunt’s name is Aggie Wells?”

“Agatha, but she’s always gone by Aggie. She’s an insurance investigator. That is, she was.”

“What was she doing in Whitehorse?”

“She said she was trying to prove that some man murdered all three of his wives.”

McCall’s head shot up from taking notes.

The girl nodded knowingly. “I thought you might know about the cases. The man’s name is Hoyt Chisholm. Aggie told me that he killed his first three wives and now he has married again. Her last appointment was with him and his new wife. She said they’d invited her out to their house for supper.”

McCall was unable to hide her surprise. Everyone in town knew about the deaths of Hoyt’s first two wives, and the disappearance of the third one.

The recent scuttlebutt throughout the county was about his new wife. McCall had heard that some residents were taking odds over at Whitehorse Café, betting how long this wife would be alive.

“My aunt told me that if anything happened to her, I was to make sure that Hoyt Chisholm didn’t get away with another murder.” The girl burst into tears. “I know he killed her.”

BILLIE RAE FOUND HERSELF enjoying more than the ride to Havre. Tanner pointed out landmarks and told her stories. She knew he was trying to keep her entertained, to distract her from thinking about her life and Duane.

But the one thing she couldn’t stop thinking about, sitting this close to Tanner, was last night. He had been so tender, so heartbreakingly sweet. She had cried after they’d made love.

“What is it?” Tanner had asked, sounding stricken.

How could she tell him that she felt she’d ruined her life by marrying Duane? That she’d lost her chance to be with someone like Tanner. Duane was going to kill her. Or at the very least, have her living in fear and on the run the rest of her life.

She could never be with Tanner again. As it was, she feared she had already put him and his family in danger.

“I forgot what happiness feels like,” she had finally choked out. He’d held her and she’d spooned against him, relishing the warmth of his body and the way this man made her feel, dreading when the sun would come up and she would have to leave him.

“That’s the town of Wagner down there,” Tanner said now, pointing at the few buildings left. It appeared most of the towns along the Hi-Line were shrinking, some little more than a sign and a couple of old buildings.

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid held up a train not far from here,” he said. “It was allegedly their last robbery before they headed to South America.”

The day had dawned clear blue, sunny and warm. The land was a brilliant spring-green and, with the windows down, the air blowing in smelled of summer. It was the kind of day she remembered from when she was a girl and still had her illusions about life.

Billie Rae breathed in the sweet scents, catching a hint of Tanner’s masculine one. When she was with him, she felt her strength coming back. Duane had done his best to beat it out of her. She was almost surprised that she could feel like her old self. But Tanner reminded her of who she’d been. Who she could be again—except for Duane who was determined to kill every ounce of independence in her.

She tried not to think about where he was or what he was doing. She knew he would be furious wherever he was. Just as she knew he would be frantically looking for her and wouldn’t stop until he found her.

She shuddered at the thought.

“Warm enough?” Tanner asked, noticing.

“Someone just walked over my grave.” She regretted the quick retort immediately. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he said and quickly pointed out an old Spanish mission on the road ahead. She was glad he didn’t mention Duane, but neither of them had forgotten about him, she knew. She’d caught Tanner checking the rearview mirror occasionally—just as she had been doing in the side mirror.

Duane would not give up. She just had to make sure he never found her—or learned that Tanner Chisholm had been the one who’d saved her last night.

Hopefully Duane would also never learn about this trip to Havre. She hated involving Tanner Chisholm in the mess she’d made of her life any more than she already had. But she needed to sell the rings. Hopefully she could get enough to buy an old car and enough gas to put a whole lot more distance between herself and Duane before she found a job.

“You’re going to have to deal with him, you know,” Tanner said as if realizing she hadn’t been listening about the old mission they’d just passed.

Billie Rae nodded. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help thinking about him.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Six months. We met in Oklahoma, where I was teaching kindergarten. Right after we eloped, Duane sprung it on me that he’d gotten a job in Williston, North Dakota, and we had to move at once. I didn’t even get to finish the school year.”

“You had friends in Oklahoma?”

She nodded. “I lost track of them once we got to North Dakota. Duane made sure of that. It’s hard to accept that I’m the classic case. The abused wife. But Duane wasn’t like this when we were dating. He was …” She let her voice trail off. “That’s not true. The signs were there. He was controlling but I wanted to believe it was because he cared and just wanted what was best for me, like he said.” She laughed at that. “I was such a fool.”

“We’ve all been fools,” Tanner said. “Myself included. But you realized your mistake and got away from him.”

If only it were that simple.

“You don’t know my husb … Duane,” she said. She couldn’t bear to call him her husband anymore. She hadn’t only left him, hadn’t merely taken off her wedding rings. In her heart she was no longer Duane Rasmussen’s wife, and last night with Tanner she’d felt like a free woman, even though she’d only been kidding herself.

Under the law, she was still Duane Rasmussen’s wife. Only technically, she thought, because there was no love in her heart for him. When had she stopped loving him? She didn’t know. Just as she didn’t know when she’d begun to hate him.

“He’s … dangerous,” she said, thinking that was putting it mildly.

Tanner let out a dismissive sound. “Only to a woman who can’t fight back.”

She shook her head. “He carries a gun, he kills people.” And when he caught her, she wouldn’t be the first person he killed in a rage. “Duane’s a cop.”

Chapter Four

It hadn’t taken long for Sheriff McCall Crawford to verify what Cindy Ross had told her. Agatha “Aggie” Wells hadn’t used her plane ticket—nor had she returned her rental car—a white SUV. Aggie had also been fired from the insurance company seven years ago.

“Can I be honest with you, Sheriff?” Wells’s supervisor asked.

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