Saved and seduced...

by Wingman Security’s sexiest agent

Stuck in a raging snowstorm, Laura Collins can’t refuse shelter in Rico Metez’s Colorado mountain cabin. She’s been on the run with a child and will do anything to save her. But as he puts everything on the line to protect Laura, Rico senses she’s got deeper secrets that involve the little girl. Can he learn the truth before his own past gets them killed?

BEVERLY LONG enjoys the opportunity to write her own stories. She has both a bachelor’s and master’s degree in business and more than twenty years of experience as a human resources director. She considers her books to be a great success if they compel the reader to stay up way past their bedtime. Beverly loves to hear from readers. Visit beverlylong.com, or like her author fan page at Facebook.com/beverlylong.romance.

Also By Beverly Long

Wingman Security

Power Play

Bodyguard Reunion

Snowbound Security

Return to Ravesville

Hidden Witness

Agent Bride

Urgent Pursuit

Deep Secrets

The Men from Crow Hollow

Hunted

Stalked

Trapped

The Detectives

Deadly Force

Secure Location

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Snowbound Security

Beverly Long

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07893-1

SNOWBOUND SECURITY

© 2018 Beverly R. Long

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Suddenly, I feel like living dangerously.” He deliberately stared at her mouth.

“Really?”

She sounded breathless. Was it from walking up the hill? Or the idea of what his living dangerously might mean for her?

“Yeah,” he said. “What do you think about that?”

She stared at him. Her cheeks were red and her hair was flying around her face, full of static electricity from her cap. “Living dangerously. I’ve spent a lifetime doing just the opposite, being very careful to do just the right thing.”

“And now?”

“And now, I think I might be done with that.”

What was she saying? There could be no room for misinterpretation here. He leaned close, whispered in her ear so the little girls could not hear. “I want you in my bed, Laura.”

“I’m not in a place where I can make any commitments, Rico.”

“I’m not asking for any. Or expecting any,” he added. Hoping, yeah, but he didn’t need to say that.

“Then I say yes.”

* * *

Don’t miss the next romance in Beverly Long’s exciting miniseries, Wingman Security!

Dear Reader,

Thank you for the opportunity to share Laura and Rico’s story. I’m super excited that it’s set in Colorado. My grandparents homesteaded on the western slope of Colorado in the early 1930s. My mother, who claimed she could ride a horse before she could walk, had wonderful stories about her childhood on the mountain ranch. She left Colorado to marry my dad and they settled in Illinois. My grandparents, however, continued to live in Colorado until their deaths many years later.

In the summers, my parents would load up the Buick LeSabre with their five children (yes, those cars really were big enough for seven) and we would drive from Illinois to Colorado and spend two weeks with my grandparents. The excitement of seeing the mountains and knowing that we were close is a feeling that I will never forget. By then, my grandparents had left the ranch and were living in town. Aunts and uncles and cousins, who all still lived in Colorado, would arrive. We’d play canasta, catch frogs in the drainage ditch and pick tomatoes out of the garden that were delicious with just a little salt.

For me, Colorado is about family and that’s the theme that resonates in Snowbound Security. The importance of family, the risks one will take to keep family safe, the sacrifices one will make. The love that binds a family together.

I hope you enjoy!

All my best,

Beverly

To Lydia, who has helped me to know how very much my grandparents must have loved me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Laura Collins awoke when a small hand poked her in the nose. She opened one eye, then the other. Hannah stood at the side of the bed, her head at an angle, her long curly blond hair in even more disarray than usual. Likely from having it wadded up and stuffed underneath her small baseball cap for too many hours the day before.

“Wake up,” said the four-year-old.

Laura smiled. She felt as if she could sleep for weeks. But Hannah was likely not having any of that. She’d gotten regular naps snug in her car seat in the back of the white Mustang while Laura had driven for seventeen hours, her tense fingers clenching the steering wheel.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” They had some food left but Laura knew that she’d need to make a trip to the grocery store soon. There had to be one somewhere.

Hannah nodded, her big blue eyes solemn.

She was too serious. Maybe she understood more than Laura thought she did. She hoped not. One day she’d tell her the truth. But not now. She was too young. There was too much at risk. “Peanut butter toast and an orange?” she asked.

“Pancakes,” Hannah said.

Laura shook her head. Not without eggs or milk. It was what she’d offered or nothing. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was so cold. She immediately looked down to see if Hannah had socks on. She did not. She reached down and scooped her up, then pretended to toss the little girl over her shoulder.

Hannah squealed in fun.

“You need slippers, little one.”

“Cold piggies,” Hannah said.

“Yes, you have cold piggies,” Laura said, rubbing the child’s soft feet. She carried her into the smaller bedroom and gently dumped her onto the bed. Then she opened the sack containing Hannah’s new clothes. She yanked at the thin plastic connecting the two slippers and once it broke, she put one on each foot. They were a little loose but it had been a pretty good guess.

She hoped she’d done as well with the rest of the clothes. She tore the tags off everything. It wasn’t as if she was able to take any of them back if they didn’t fit. They would have to do. “Here, sweetheart. Put this sweater on over your pajamas.”

The cabin was colder than it had been last night when they’d arrived. Laura had considered lighting the fireplace that took up almost one wall in the living room but had ultimately been too tired. It had been a struggle just to make the two beds with the linens that had been waiting in totes left at the footboards of both. There had been thick comforters and she’d been confident that Hannah would be warm enough.

But now she was going to have to get her act together. She needed to cut and darken Hannah’s hair and lighten her own.

“I want to watch TV,” Hannah said.

In her bedroom, there was a DVD player and about a thousand different titles, but she didn’t want Hannah to get used to the big screen. She’d be disappointed when they had to leave it behind. “You can watch my computer,” she said. She’d downloaded some movies that would keep the little girl entertained for a while.

The child nodded. Laura sighed. There would be so many compromises in the future. If only she could be assured that Hannah would be as accepting of all of them. But she couldn’t worry about it now. One day at a time.

When her good friend Melissa Trane had said Colorado mountain cabin, Laura had imagined a small space, probably a little rundown, maybe not primitive but certainly rugged. All the way from Tennessee, she prayed that the place wouldn’t be overrun with rodents. She’d thrown her dad’s old rifle in the trunk but had worried that she might have been better prepared if she’d included mousetraps.

Once she arrived, she realized that if there were mice here, they likely lived better than most people. The place was luxurious.

A little rested now, she was ready to explore.

The living room and kitchen was all one big space, but the furniture was oversized and arranged in such a way that it felt like two very separate areas. There were two couches in the living area, and she got Hannah settled on one of them with her computer. The couches sat in a V in front of the stone fireplace, with a big wooden end table between them. Both the couches were a rich brown leather with lots of comfy pillows. The rug on the glossy hardwood floor was a mix of browns and burgundies and gold that tied the space together.

In the middle of the dining area there was a big table. Lots of dark wood and six comfortable-looking fabric chairs in the same sort of colors that were in the living room. There was a runner down the middle with a gorgeous brown and gold blown glass bowl in the center.

The kitchen was what you’d expect to find in an upscale home, not in a cabin. Stainless steel appliances, big sink with a tall, arching faucet, and more rugs on the polished wood floor. Granite countertops and expensive-looking glass-fronted cabinets. Inside of them she could see plenty of dishes and glassware.

The only thing that seemed out of place was the rather plain telephone hanging on the wall—such a throwback to another time. She lifted the receiver, listened for the dial tone and smiled. It worked. How nice.

Not that she had anyone to call. She’d left her cell phone behind and had picked up a prepaid phone at the same time she’d purchased Hannah’s clothes. She’d activated it and then later made just one call—to let Melissa know they’d arrived safely.

Now if there was only a coffeepot hiding in one of the cupboards that hung above the countertop, she would consider it a sign that she was in the right place. Once she’d made the quick decision that she and Hannah had to leave Nashville, she’d thrown just a few clothes into a backpack, wanting to be able to travel light. Coffee and filters fell into the essential category and she’d brought them along.

She had very little in her apartment in Nashville. She’d rented it furnished and moved her own possessions in a couple boxes, leaving most everything behind in Memphis, where she’d lived for the last four years after leaving Indiana. She’d always intended to return to Memphis.

That would never happen now. The life she had known before had been pushed out of reach.

She opened one cupboard and found a toaster. That was good; she would need that, too. There were also a few canned goods on the shelf. Soup, vegetables, beans. She looked at the expiration dates. They were all good for at least the next six months.

She’d be long gone before then.

She opened the other cabinet and thank you, God, there was a coffeepot. It was clean and she quickly plugged it in, then filled the pot halfway full with water. Got a filter, put the grounds in and sighed when the first sizzle hit the bottom of the now-hot glass pot.

She toasted two slices of bread and peeled an orange. Once the toast popped, she slathered on the peanut butter, put a piece of toast on each of the small plates she found and divided the orange. “Here you go, Hannah.”

Hannah, already engrossed in the movie, blindly reached out for an orange slice. Laura sat at the table, eating her breakfast and drinking the black coffee that she’d have preferred with cream. This was the first day of their new lives. It should feel momentous.

But it just felt overwhelming. How the hell was she going to manage? How was she going to keep a roof over their heads and food on their table?

Hannah should be at her preschool at this very moment. She should be at work. Instead, they were both halfway across the country. Thrown together by circumstances too complex for many to understand.

By now the police would have been called.

Would the case wind its way to Detective August Phillips’s desk? Would he put two and two together and realize the connection to another of his cases, the deaths of Joe and Ariel Collins? The deaths she was sure were suspicious, although the seasoned veteran with thirty years on the force was not yet convinced.

He’d said he respected her opinion and that he’d keep an open mind.

But he likely wouldn’t think much of her now.

None of that mattered. Hannah was safe. And Laura intended to keep it that way. The alternative was simply too horrible to bear.

* * *

Rico Metez wasn’t supposed to be driving. His doctor had said to wait another two weeks before getting behind the wheel or returning to work, but the hell with that. He was tired of babying his injured ankle, tired of being at less than 100 percent.

He was headed home. To the Colorado mountains. To his cabin. He’d been saddened to hear from Georgina Fodder that she wasn’t feeling well enough to make her scheduled trip. He’d known her cancer was rapidly advancing but had hoped she’d have one more visit to the mountains. After the conversation had ended, he’d made a few follow-up calls to ensure that she had everything she needed to make her final days as comfortable as possible. Her son had sung the praises of Melissa Trane, a home care worker who’d become indispensable to Georgina.

And when he’d decided that he wasn’t going to let the cabin simply sit empty, his partners had almost cheered his decision. “We owe you,” they’d said. And they did. Because he’d had the bad luck to be available when Mora Rambeilla had needed executive protection a few months ago. It was really good money but, unfortunately, had been more drama than it was worth.

She’d been demanding and prone to hysterics. Her ex-husband postulated conspiracy theories that had no basis in fact, and she had manipulative adult children who should have had their own lives but apparently didn’t. It had been a daytime soap opera that had consumed him for two months prior to his accident. Royce Morgan, Trey Riker and Seth Pike had all felt as if they’d escaped a bullet.

He’d packed a bag, put gas in his SUV and had been grateful when Las Vegas was not even a speck in his rearview mirror. Now, nine hours later, he was close. And as luck would have it, Jennie Jones’s little store was still open. Jennie had to be at least seventy but she still worked twelve-hour days, selling groceries and gas to the locals and anybody passing through that didn’t mind paying a premium of 20 percent for the convenience of not having to drive all the way down the damn mountain to get to a big store.

He pulled in and killed the engine. Lucky, who’d been sleeping in the passenger seat, immediately perked up and started to whine.

“No, you’re staying here,” Rico said. “This is a quick stop.”

The dog cocked his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was being left behind.

“I’ll get you a treat,” Rico said before opening his door. Then he pulled the crutches that he’d come to despise after him. He negotiated the two steps easily—after all, he’d been using the crutches for weeks now. When he opened the door, Jennie looked up from the cash register.

“Saints preserve us, is that you, Rico?” she asked, coming around the counter. She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. “What happened?”

“Chasing chickens,” he said. It was an old joke. When he’d been a little kid and wandered into Jennie’s store and stayed too long, she’d send him on his way and say, “Just tell your parents that you got busy chasing chickens.”

His parents, who had picked fruit for a living, had smiled, grateful that Jennie had watched over their boy while they were busy in the fields, and heated up dinner for him.

“How long are you staying?” she asked.

“Couple weeks,” he said. He reached for a plastic basket.

“You point and I’ll fill your basket. But make it fast, Rico. I was just about to shut down the store. My youngest granddaughter, Ari, is visiting.”

“How old is she now?” he asked, pointing at boxes of whole grain cereal.

She dropped them in his basket. “Six. Paddie is watching her while I’m here.”

Paddie and Jennie had been together for as long as Rico could remember. They had never married. “I’ll bet she’s a beauty,” he said.

“She is. What else do you need?”

“Skim milk. Green tea. Any fresh fruit or veggies that you might have.”

There were red grapes and apples as well as asparagus, mushrooms and carrots.

“Perfect,” he said. “Still carrying the whole wheat pasta?”

“Just for you,” Jennie said. “Nobody else seems too interested.”

He smiled. “Throw in a loaf of your seven-grain bread and a dozen organic eggs and I’m out of your hair for a few days. Oh, almost forgot. Do you have any of those dehydrated apricots? I need something for Lucky.”

“I wondered if he’d made the trip.” She grabbed a bag from a shelf near the front, then joined him at the cash register. No scanners for Jennie. She punched the numbers in by hand.

He put the items into plastic sacks and then handed her cash.

“I can carry those out to your car,” she said.

“No need.” He grabbed the sacks with his free fingers, using just his thumbs and the heels of his hands to negotiate the crutches. That would be the day when he couldn’t manage to get himself and a few groceries to the car. “Thanks, Jennie. Good to see you, as always.”

“You, too. Don’t be a stranger while you’re here.”

Once he was back in his car, he opened the apricots and gave Lucky one. “Am I forgiven?” he asked.

Lucky, never one to hold a grudge, licked his hand.

It took Rico another fifteen minutes to wind his way up to his cabin. As was his habit, he looked through the trees as he rounded the last curve, always eager to catch his first glimpse.

And immediately slowed his SUV down. There was a light on. Actually, two. The blinds were drawn but not quite tight enough. There was definitely light coming from the main living area and from the large bedroom. What the hell?

He pulled off to the side of the road and quietly opened his door. He reached under his seat and pulled out the handgun that he always carried.

Lucky, as if sensing that something was very wrong, growled.

“Be quiet,” Rico said. “Stay.”

Then he grabbed a small flashlight from the middle console. Considered his crutches and discarded the idea. His doctor said his ankle could start taking a little weight.

He limped up the driveway. There was a vintage white Mustang with Tennessee plates and a kid’s car seat in the back. For just a minute, he wondered if it was possible that Georgina had been able to come. But he almost immediately discounted the idea. She was too sick.

He climbed the two steps to get onto the front porch. There were no rocking chairs to navigate around—those were in the back, where a person could sit and see the lake. He moved close, in an attempt to see inside the cabin through the small slit the almost-closed blinds offered.

He was pretty sure the family room/kitchen was empty.

He was going in. He tried the door. Locked.

No problem. He started to punch in the code on the keypad near the door. Stopped when he heard a noise behind him.

“Put your hands up,” a female voice said.

Well, hell. This was interesting.

The accent wasn’t Colorado. So not a local.

He considered his options. He was a good shot, and fast, but he wanted to let this play out a little. He slipped his gun into the front of his pants and pulled his shirt to cover it. “I’m putting my flashlight on the ground,” he said. He bent, did what he’d said, then straightened. Then with his hands in the air, he slowly turned.

It was dark in the mountains because even on moonlit nights, the trees were so tall that they blocked the light. But he’d pointed the beam to try to pick up the woman behind the voice.

There she was. She stood about fifteen yards away, and he could just make out her frame and what he thought was a rifle.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Rico,” he said.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Just trying to get into this cabin,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m staying here.”

There was a pause. “That’s impossible,” she said. “I rented it.”

He knew that wasn’t true. But he was intrigued. “Oh, this isn’t good,” he said. “You don’t think there was a screwup and it got rented to two different people for the same week?”

She didn’t answer for a long minute. “I don’t know. But I’m already here. You’ll have to find someplace else.”

He didn’t think so. “When did you arrive?”

“Yesterday,” she said.

“I get that I’m the latecomer and I’d like to be a good sport and leave you to it, but I’m in a lot of pain. I don’t think I can go any further tonight.”

“Pain?”

“Yeah. Ankle injury. My crutches are in the car and right now, I could use them.”

Silence. “What kind of injury?”

“Fracture of the lateral process of the talus.”

She did not say what the hell, which was what most people said. All she asked was, “How did you do that?”

“Caught a bad wave while waterskiing.”

He half expected her to dismiss the injury. A little like his dry cleaner and his barber had done. You play, you pay. Their responses had been some version of that. But she said nothing.

“Look, do you think I could sit down somewhere?” he said finally.

Again, it was such a long pause that he wondered if she intended to ever respond. Finally, she said, “Enter the code if you’ve got it.”

He turned, hoping like hell he hadn’t misjudged the situation and she decided to shoot him in the back. He entered the code, heard a click, and he opened the door. He took five steps in before making a big deal out of collapsing onto the nearest couch.

She did, indeed, have a rifle. But she didn’t seem comfortable carrying it. He gave that only cursory consideration before examining her more closely. She was...he supposed striking was the best word. Tall, maybe close to five-ten, slim but not skinny. She had some curves. She wore boots that looked new, jeans and a flannel shirt that was not totally buttoned up. He managed to tear his eyes away from that and got stuck on her face. Strong bone structure. Green eyes and fair skin with a smattering of freckles that made him think redhead, but instead, her thick shoulder-length hair was ash-blond. She was very pretty.

He guessed her age at midthirties. “Hello,” he said. “Thanks for the couch.” He drew in a lungful of air. His cabin smelled like bleach. The cleaning crew he hired would have cleaned it after the last visitor, but he’d never noticed the smell before.

“Did you have surgery?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. Because it seemed important to her, he leaned down, pulled his jeans up and his sock down. “Three weeks post-op,” he lied, shaving off two weeks.

She nodded and he caught a quick flicker of unease in her eyes as she quickly glanced toward the second bedroom. There was definitely someone else in the cabin. There were two plates and two glasses drying on a towel next to the sink.

“This is a heck of a problem,” he said. “I’m really sorry about it.” He stopped. “You’re not allergic to dogs, right?”

She blinked, as if she was having trouble following him. Shook her head.

“Great. That’s great. Look, the only thing I know for sure is that I need a place to crash and get my leg up for the night. My dog is in the car and I’ll need to bring him in, too. My info on this place said there were two bedrooms and some couches that pulled out.” He made a pretense of verifying that the one he was sitting on did. “Yep. I’d be happy to just flop here for the night and we can figure this out in the morning.”

* * *

What he was suggesting was impossible. He was a stranger.

But she was fairly confident that he’d told the truth about his injury. The incision was consistent with surgery to fix a fracture of the lateral process of the talus. And that kind of injury could indeed happen in a waterskiing accident. Three weeks post-surgery, he definitely should not have been driving. No wonder his ankle was hurting.

He was being pretty nice considering that he had to be irritated that there’d been a mix-up with the reservation.

She’d known this was a possibility. But Melissa, who worked as a home health aide, had made it sound so good. “There’s a cabin, in Colorado,” she’d said. “I don’t know much about it except that one of the patients that I’m assigned to was supposed to go there. But she’s too ill. Just canceled this morning.”

At first, Laura had discounted it. How the hell was she going to get to Colorado?

But then Melissa, who’d been assisting the patient with accessing her emails, had offered up the entry code. As well as her ex-husband’s car that was currently in storage. Clovis will never know it’s gone.

It had seemed like a good option, certainly the best option she had on short notice.

She hadn’t counted on the rental company being able to get another guest on such short notice. He was apologetic now, but when this man called in the morning, it would become very clear that she was the interloper, not him.

She should go now. But the truth was, she was exhausted and desperately needed some sleep. She was still recovering from the marathon drive and, quite frankly, it had been horribly stressful to cut Hannah’s long hair. She’d wanted to cry when she saw the long blond curls lying on the floor. Had thought about saving some but then immediately dismissed the idea. She needed to be vigilant about not leaving clues, and a lock of hair would be a stupid mistake. So she summoned her nerve, finished the haircut, swept up the hair and burnt it in the fireplace. Then put a medium brown dye on Hannah’s remaining short hair and dried it with a hair dryer to keep it smooth.

Fortunately, Hannah hadn’t seemed to mind any of it. Her best friend at daycare had short brown hair and Hannah had been delighted that they were going to look like twins. Laura knew she’d never see that other child again but said nothing.

There’d been no opportunity for a nap later, not even when Hannah had slept because Laura had dyed her own hair during that time. She hadn’t wanted the little girl to see her doing it. It would have elicited too many questions, made too big of an impression. Was much better that Hannah woke up and Laura passed off her new hair with a simple, “Now I’m blonde like you used to be. We both changed our hair today.”

And if she were to leave now, there was no way she’d get Hannah into the car without waking her. Would she go back to sleep right away, or would she be awake for hours, concerned that they were once again in the car?

How much change and disruption could the little girl take? Taking off in the daylight, after she’d had a good night’s sleep, had to be less startling, less scary.

Laura wasn’t physically scared of the man. Yes, he was tall and fit but so was she. He had a definite liability with the ankle injury. One well-aimed kick from her in that vicinity would bring him to his knees. But she didn’t want him on the couch. There was a front door and a back door and he’d be squarely between both. Not good if she needed to leave quickly in the middle of the night.

Why would you need to do that, a little voice nagged at her. She should be safe here. But just in case, she said, “You can stay. There’s no need for you to sleep on the couch. Give me a minute to get settled. The bedroom with the open door will be yours.”

She waited until he nodded.

“And just in case you’re wondering,” she added, “I’m a light sleeper. I’m taking my gun with me. If you try to come in, I’m going to shoot first and ask questions later.”

Chapter 2

When Rico woke up, he could smell coffee. He took an appreciative sniff. Didn’t drink the stuff, never had. But thought it smelled pretty damn good.

He glanced at his watch. Just after seven. Which was late for him. But he’d been sleeping badly these last few weeks. He’d roll over without thinking and boom, there it was: the weakness, the tenderness, all telling him that the bone wasn’t quite healed.

But it was better than he’d let on last night. Because he’d been fairly confident that the woman would have demanded he leave had he not appeared to be significantly impaired.

It had taken her just one trip to move a few items out of the larger bedroom and into the smaller one. Then she’d closed her door.

He’d made two trips to his vehicle. The first time, he’d moved his SUV into the driveway, parking it right next to her Mustang. Lucky had tumbled out of the car, so damn excited to finally be there. He loved his time at the cabin.

Rico had let him sniff around and do the things dogs do outside while he unloaded. Finally, he had his crutches, his duffel bag and all the groceries inside. But before calling Lucky in, he took a second to enter her license plate into his phone.

Back inside, he’d made sure the door was locked. Lucky had immediately made a path to the doorway of the second bedroom and stood at the door, softly whining. “I’ll introduce you in the morning,” Rico had whispered. “Settle down.”

The dog had stopped whining and moved to the living room where he plopped down on one of the leather couches. Rico had quietly put away the perishables into the refrigerator. There’d been nothing in there but a few apples and oranges. The woman had said she’d arrived yesterday. He had wondered what she’d planned to eat if she stayed awhile. He’d left his remaining groceries on the counter, not wanting to open and shut cupboards and drawers.

When he got into the bedroom, he saw a pile of sheets in the corner. Knew that his cleaning crew would never have left them there and was confident that she’d stripped the sheets off the king-sized bed and put on a clean set from the tote. Interesting. Had no qualms about being in the cabin without permission, but didn’t want him to sleep on used sheets.

He probably wouldn’t have minded. He’d caught a whiff of her scent as she’d come in the door behind him and it had been sharply sexy.

Last night he’d examined both the front and back doors of the cabin and all the windows. Hadn’t seen anything that led him to believe that she’d broken in. If she hadn’t forced her way in, then she’d had the entry code for the door. Only a couple ways she could have gotten that.

He supposed it was time to figure out the mystery. And Lucky was likely more than ready to go outside.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, moved his ankle gently to loosen it up and stood. He’d slept in his clothes because...well, just because he’d wanted to be prepared for anything. It was the same reason his gun had been under his pillow. Now he slipped said gun into the waistband of his jeans and made sure his shirt was covering it.

She seemed normal enough, but there were a bunch of crazies in the world and he wasn’t going to be stupid about sharing his cabin with a stranger. She’d been vocal about her intent to shoot first and ask questions later. He’d been more reticent, but that didn’t mean he was a trusting fool.

He grabbed the crutches that he’d left leaning against the headboard. He was really curious to see what her story was this morning. Would she suddenly remember that she had a commitment somewhere else and hustle to get on the road? Would she continue to pretend that she had every right to be in the cabin, that he was the one who’d made the mistake?

And who had been in the bedroom? He suspected a child, given the car seat in the back of the Mustang.

A rifle-toting woman traveling alone with a child. Interesting. Staying someplace she had no right to be. Even more interesting.

He opened his door at almost exactly the same time the second bedroom door opened. Out walked a beautiful child, her short brown hair tucked behind her ears, wearing lion pajamas. She looked up at him, smiled and said, “Hello.”

“Hello, Lion,” he said.

She patted her belly, where the lion’s face was prominent. “I’m not really a lion.”

“That’s good. I think I might be afraid of lions.”

“Hey, sweetie,” the woman said, coming fast behind the child. She scooped her up and held her close to her body.

“Pancakes, today?” the child asked.

The woman shook her head. “Soon.” She looked at Rico over the child’s shoulder. “Morning,” she mumbled.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “Cute kid.” He barely got that out before Lucky came skidding around the corner. Barking. So damn excited that there was company.

The kid squealed and the woman lifted her higher.

“Stay down,” he said to Lucky. “He won’t bite,” he said to the woman.

“A dog,” the child said, voice full of awe. “We have a dog?”

“He’s not our dog,” the woman said.

“What’s his name?” the child asked.

“Lucky,” Rico said. “Because he was lucky I kept him after he chewed up two pairs of really nice shoes.”

“Shoes,” the kid echoed, all big-eyed.

And part of a couch, he added silently, but didn’t see a need to mention that. Lucky was a longhaired, midsized mutt who had been left to die near Rico’s condo building. He’d taken him in about two years ago, regretted it every day for the first three months and now couldn’t imagine life without him.

The woman and child walked down the short hallway and into the living area. She put the little girl on the couch and handed her a laptop computer. “You can watch a little of your movie while I get breakfast ready.”

Rico opened the door for Lucky. When he turned back around, he saw that she was pouring a cup of coffee that she’d either started earlier or had left on a timer the night before. She took a sip, then set it down. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out an orange. Efficiently peeled it, separated it into pieces and put it on a paper towel. Then she put a piece of toast into the toaster and, when it popped, spread peanut butter on it. Added it to the paper towel, which she carried over to the child, along with a glass of water in a plastic cup with a lid and a straw.

She was basically acting as if he wasn’t there.

Well, two could play that game. He found his teakettle in the cupboard, filled it with water and set it on the stove to heat. Then he circled the interior of the cabin, pulling up the shades on all the windows. Immediately, the cabin was flooded with natural light. “Looks like a nice day,” he said conversationally.

“Yes,” she said. She topped off her cup of coffee and he saw that her hand was shaking slightly. It made him think that she wasn’t nearly as calm as she was pretending to be. She wore the same clothes that she’d had on last night and he wondered if she, too, had slept in her clothes. Prepared. And by the way she’d sprang after the child this morning, he figured it was for anything that was necessary to protect the little girl.

There was only a double bed in the smaller bedroom, which meant that she’d either snuggled close to the child or slept on the floor. He had a crazy suspicion it had been the latter, with her body squarely in front of the door to prevent it from being opened and surprising her.

Mother bears always fascinated him.

“I...uh...didn’t mention...” she waved in the direction of the couch “...last night.”

He shrugged. “The bed in the room you gave up is a king. The two of you should have slept there.”

“We were fine,” she said, dismissing his comment.

“Crazy situation we got here, but I know I’ve got the rental company information in my contacts so that we can get this straightened out.” He looked at his watch. “They probably open at nine.”

She looked around. “It’s a really nice place.”

She didn’t sound that happy about it. Ten years ago, Rico had looked for months for just the right property. And when he’d seen this place, he’d fallen for it. The exterior logs had been solid and didn’t require much. He’d gutted the insides, replacing everything, and adding a laundry room off the kitchen and a second bath off the master bedroom. Now, it fit his needs almost perfectly. It was a good size for him and enough room that when his parents or his sister’s family visited, it was big enough.

He picked up his phone. “Cell service seems to suck. Guess it’s good that the place comes with a landline,” he added, looking at the phone on the wall.

“I think we’re going to run to the grocery store this morning.”

So that was how it was going to go. “Jennie’s is about fifteen minutes east. You can get the basics there. Otherwise, you’re looking at forty-five minutes down the mountain the other direction.”

“Jennie’s will be fine,” she said. “Maybe we’ll do a little sightseeing at the same time.”

Which was code for the trip might take a while. Plenty of time to get far away before he knew for sure that they weren’t coming back.

“How old is your little girl?”

She looked over her shoulder, as if to confirm that the child was engrossed in whatever was on the computer. “Boy,” she correctly softly.

“Sorry,” he said. He evidently had some things to learn about kids. He had a nephew and a niece and he’d always been able to tell the difference. “He’s cute,” he said.

“Thanks.”

His sister had never stopped talking about her kids when they were young. He’d known what they were doing, new words they were learning and sometimes even their bowel habits. This woman evidently wasn’t chatty.

She put her coffee cup in the sink. “Finish up,” she said to the child. “We need to go to the store.”

“I want to stay here,” the kid said, not looking up from the screen. “Please, Laura.”

Laura. Last night she’d asked him his name. He’d offered up his first. She hadn’t drilled for more, likely because she hadn’t been willing to reciprocate. He hadn’t pushed for the information, had sensed that she might guard her name the same way she was willing to guard the door of her bedroom—with a rifle.

“Sorry,” Laura said. She walked over to the couch and picked up the computer.

“Hey,” was the immediate protest.

“Come with me. You can watch it in the bedroom while we get ready for the store.”

They left Rico standing in his kitchen, mulling the situation over a cup of green tea, whole grain cereal and organic blueberries.

And ten minutes later, they came out of the bedroom, both with backpacks that looked pretty full. He suspected they contained everything that they’d arrived with.

The woman had not changed her clothes. The child was dressed in a plain gray T-shirt, blue jeans, and wore a baseball cap.

“So I’ll make a call once the office opens and should have some info for you by the time you get back,” he said. “I’m headed for the shower now.” He picked up his crutches.

“How’s the ankle?” she asked.

“A little swollen,” he admitted.

“Keep it elevated and put cold on it—twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. Ibuprofen might help, too.”

“Are you a doctor, a nurse?”

Panic flashed in her eyes. “No, nothing like that.” She picked up the child. “Well, see you later.”

Right. “Good luck,” he said. “At the grocery store,” he added.

She didn’t answer. The door slammed behind her and she and the child made their way to the Mustang. He watched them get to the end of the lane and turn left.

And was still standing at the window ten minutes later when he saw the Mustang pass by the end of his lane again, this time going the opposite direction. Away from Jennie’s. Had she decided to go down the mountain, to the bigger store?

Maybe. But he didn’t think so.

Laura was running. And unless he was crazy, she was trying to pass a little girl off as a little boy.

Had she stolen the child? He didn’t think she was a stranger to the child who had given no indication that she didn’t want to be with Laura or that she was frightened of her.

Laura didn’t have to be a stranger to have wrongfully taken the child. She could be a noncustodial parent. But would the child call her by her first name and not Mama?

The woman was out of his hair. He should let it go. But he knew there was no way.

He called Lucky back in, grabbed his keys and his crutches and they were out the door in less than a minute.

* * *

She hated that they’d had to leave the cabin. But Rico was going to make his call and it was going to be painfully obvious that she didn’t have a right to be there. She thought about calling Melissa and warning her that her patient might be getting a call from the rental company wondering if she’d happened to give out the code to the door. But she discarded the idea. If the elderly woman got called, she likely wouldn’t even answer the phone since she wasn’t feeling well. If she did, she’d tell them that she didn’t know what they were talking about and that would be that.

The nearest town was Moreville. She had enough cash that she could get a hotel room for a couple days until she figured out a better long-term solution. Hannah was chattering to her doll in the back, oblivious that they were once again on the run.

She wondered what Rico’s story was. No wedding ring. She’d noticed that when he was making his tea. It surprised her because he was very handsome with his dark hair, olive skin and very dark eyes. The image of him, only in swim trunks, holding on to a ski line, was very appealing.

How long would he wait before coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t coming back? To knowing that it hadn’t been an honest mistake but that she’d been a mere squatter who’d had the bad luck to get caught?

How many lies was she going to have to tell? How many people was she going to have to deceive?

What would she stoop to?

She glanced in her rearview mirror. Hannah caught her eye and smiled.

There was her answer. She would bend, stoop, even crawl. Go as low as she needed to. For Hannah.

She drove for an hour before she got to the outskirts of the town. It took another ten minutes to find a hotel. It was two stories with the rooms all having exterior doors.

She parked in front of the office and shut off the car. She opened her purse and pulled cash out. Then tossed her purse onto the floor and covered it up with a Colorado map. “We have to go inside here,” she said to Hannah.

“Can I take Ja-Ja?”

“No, sorry.” While it should not, a little boy with a doll might garner attention they didn’t need. “Pretend that she’s sleeping.”

“Okay.” Hannah kissed Ja-Ja’s forehead and laid her down on the seat.

It made Laura’s eyes fill with tears. Hannah was such a sweet child. She unbuckled her seat belt, got out, did the same for Hannah. Tugged at the little girl’s baseball cap to make sure it would stay on.

A bell jingled when she opened the door. A woman was behind the counter, reading a newspaper. Her face was lined and she was very thin. She stood and set aside the paper. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Laura said. There was an old couch with two chairs. She gave Hannah’s shoulder a gentle push toward the furniture. “You can sit over there while I do this. Here’s a pen and paper.” Hannah loved to draw and, most of the time, tuned everything else out while she was doing so.

Laura waited until she got up on the couch before turning back to the woman. “I’d like to rent a room.”

“How many nights.”

“Three,” she said. She had to have a plan by then.

“How many people?”

“Just the two of us,” Laura said, waving in Hannah’s direction.

The woman nodded and started tapping keys on what appeared to be an ancient computer. “License and credit card?”

Laura smiled. “I’ve had the worst luck,” she said. “My purse was stolen. I’d be happy to pay in cash in advance.”

The woman studied her. “We need the credit card in case there are damages to the room.”

“How about I give you an extra hundred to cover that? When I leave, you can give it back once you’ve checked the room.”

The woman sighed, glanced over at Hannah. Looked back at Laura. “That’ll do,” she said. She gave Laura a plastic card. “Upstairs. Room 204.”

“Thank you,” Laura said. She walked over to Hannah. “Time to go. You can finish these upstairs.” She gathered the paper and pen.

Was almost out the door when the woman said, “O’Grady’s on the corner serves up a nice breakfast and lunch for a reasonable price. And Pastor Rome, he’s got the church a block down on the right, has been known to be helpful to folks, too. Plus there’s some swings and a slide on the playground next door to the church.”

Laura swallowed hard. “Again, thank you.” She grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her out the door.

“I want to see the playground.”

“Maybe later. Let’s get Ja-Ja and your clothes and see our room.”

“I liked the room we had. Why did we have to leave?”

“We just had to,” Laura said. “Come on.”

“I liked Lucky,” Hannah said, obviously not willing to let it go.

“Yeah. Nice dog. But you’ll meet other nice dogs.”

“I will?”

“Of course.” Wasn’t that what people said when one thing ended and you were waiting for the next thing to begin? It certainly had been when she and Will had split up. You’ll meet another guy. That’s what her friends had said. Her hairdresser. Her landlord who got used to seeing Will around.

Had that happened last night? Had she met a nice guy last night? Had it been an error to run from him this morning? Could she have told him the truth?

No. Because the risk of others judging her actions too harshly was too big. So it didn’t matter how nice he might be. She was on her own. For the foreseeable future.

She got their things out of the car, stuffing her purse into her already-full backpack at the last minute so the woman in the office wouldn’t see it if she happened to be watching them. They got to the concrete exterior stairs and Hannah reached up and put her hand in Laura’s. The little girl’s skin was soft and warm.

No, not alone. She had Hannah. Blood of her blood.

It was more than enough.

She inserted the key card into the door and when the light flicked green, she turned the handle. And her heart sank. It wasn’t horrible, but compared to the beautiful sunny cabin that they’d left behind, the dark room, with its dark green and purple carpet and its brown bedspread and matching curtains, was like a tomb.

Hannah spied the television. “Can I watch?” she asked.

Laura nodded, grateful for the respite. “Sure. For a little while.” She turned it on, found an appropriate show and got Hannah settled on the bed, with her arm around her doll. She made sure the bolt lock on the door was engaged and the chain hooked.

Then she went into the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the faucet in the sink and started to cry.

Chapter 3

One thing about mountain roads, they made it relatively easy to follow somebody without having to get too close. He was able to stay a nice comfortable mile behind the Mustang without losing it as she covered the steep inclines and declines that the Rockies were known for.

Felt justified when he saw her breeze past the grocery store that was on the edge of town. He’d been right. Shopping wasn’t her priority. But then he quickly got frustrated as he lost her for just a few minutes once she got into the guts of Moreville, a town of maybe fifteen thousand. But he persisted, traveling the five-block business section, the side streets leading off the main street and then finally the perimeter of the town. That’s where he found her. At the Wagon Wheel Delight.

He saw some wagon wheels propped up next to the side of the office, but he didn’t see anything delightful. Other than her cute little Mustang. Which was parked but empty. There was no sign of her or the child. He suspected they were already in a room. He could go knocking on doors. He looked at Lucky. “I think we should just wait.”

The dog blinked but offered up no argument. Put his head in Rico’s lap so that Rico could scratch behind his ears.

He had calls to make anyway. He pressed a button on his phone.

“Rico,” his mom said. “How is the poor ankle?”

Those had been the first words out of his mother’s mouth every time he talked to her since his injury. “It’s good. Almost healed,” he said. “How’s Dad?” His father had been suffering with chest pains, which he claimed were indigestion but Rico was worried. He wanted to send him to one of the premier heart doctors in the United States, but his dad wasn’t having it. So instead, Rico gave Nathan, his sister’s seventeen-year-old son, a weekly allowance to make sure that he checked in on his grandfather daily. Nathan had also been responsible for all the lawn mowing this past summer and would do all the snow shoveling this winter. He gave some cash also to Aleja, his sister’s thirteen-year-old daughter, to make sure that his mother wasn’t lonely.

“He’s ornery,” his mom said. “And worried about the early snow that’s coming. But Nathan stopped by and they’re playing checkers. Aleja is coming later and we’re baking a cake.”

Excellent. His nephew and niece were good kids who would probably do the right thing for their grandparents anyway, but he didn’t like leaving things to chance. And his dad was right to be worried about the snow. Rico had checked the weather before leaving Vegas. Only a fool drove into the mountains in October without doing that. Snow was definitely coming to Colorado and he’d packed accordingly. As long as he was here in Moreville, he would stock up with extra food just in case.

“What are you up to?” his mother asked.

“Not much. Giving the ankle a rest,” he said. He felt badly about lying to his mother. He was less than an hour away from their small house where they’d lived since retiring three years earlier. But if they knew that he was at the cabin, they would be hurt if he didn’t visit. And right now, he wasn’t up to a fight with his sister, who lived next door to his parents. She was angry with him because he wouldn’t help her lazy husband.

“You help everyone,” she’d yelled the last time. “But you won’t help him.”

He helped people who couldn’t help themselves. People who were sick, like Georgina Fodder who was fighting a hell of a battle with cancer.

Charro’s husband, Peter, was just the opposite. He was healthy, had some skills, could work and simply chose not to. Charro had been supporting her family for years, and it was time for her to dump the freeloader.

Demonstrating tough love, however, was tough. And he did not want Charro’s children to suffer, which was why the extra money to Nathan and Aleja worked out nicely for everyone.

“Stay inside when the weather gets bad,” he said.

“We will. I’ve already been to the store. We’ll have no reason to go anywhere.”

He ended the call and stared at the hotel, trying to imagine what Laura and the child were doing in their room. He’d seen the inside of hotels like this and, quite frankly, they generally weren’t that nice. His cabin was better.

He picked up his phone again and dialed. Thought it was going to flip over to voice mail but was answered on the fourth ring.

“Rico Metez. I heard you mixed it up with a boat and the boat won.” Bobby Bayleaf was a twenty-year veteran of the Las Vegas Police Department who didn’t take crap from anyone. He’d been his partner Seth Pike’s best friend since they’d been kids. Seth had introduced Bobby and Rico a couple years ago. Now all three of them played volleyball in the same league.

“But I got a couple good punches in,” Rico said.

“That’s my boy. All better now?”

“Getting there. I’m working on something and could use a little assistance off the record.”

“I’m listening.”

Bobby generally played by the rules. He wouldn’t agree to anything until he knew what the request was.

“Just need a plate run. State of Tennessee.” Rico had taken the time to enter the plate in his phone but didn’t need that now. He was close enough to read it. He rattled it off to Bobby.

There was a pause. Then Bobby spoke. “Registered to a Clovis Trane. Lives in Nashville, Tennessee. Same address for years.”

Clovis Trane. “Is there a Laura Trane?” he asked, hating the sound of that.

“Not seeing any Laura. Looks like there was a Melissa Trane on the registration at some point but dropped off a few years ago.”

Melissa Trane. Where had he heard that name recently? Then it came to him. The home health worker taking care of Georgina Fodder. Suddenly things made more sense. Laura would not have needed to break in if she’d gotten the code from Melissa, who’d somehow gotten it from Georgina. But Melissa was no longer on the registration. “Maybe a divorce?” he asked.

“Death or divorce. That’s usually the reason somebody drops off.”

Melissa Trane wasn’t dead but he didn’t say anything. He now had more information but he really didn’t know much more. “Thanks, Bobby. Do me a favor and win some money from Seth the next time you play cards. His ego is getting too big for our doors at Wingman Security.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ll do my best.”

Rico hung up and stared at the white Mustang. He was still staring at it when a door opened on the second floor and out stepped Laura. She’d changed into a green T-shirt that likely did good things for her eyes. Her hair was now in a ponytail and she was wearing a ball cap, with the tail hanging out the back.

She seemed to glance around before letting the child come out behind her. He expected them to head for the car but instead, they walked past the car, past the office of the hotel, and turned right at the end of the driveway. They were on the sidewalk and he quickly lost sight of them.

He let them get a fair distance ahead of him before he started his vehicle. When he pulled out of the driveway of the hotel, he quickly slid into an open spot on the street when he could see them. They were about a block ahead.

Were they going to church? On a weekday?

Nope. They walked past the church, to the park next to it. He waited a minute before pulling out of the space. He drove slowly down the street, past the park. Made a turn. Parked where he could see them, but they remained oblivious to him.

She was pushing the kid in the swing.

And they were both laughing. And the image pulled at him. Laura, who’d been attractive in a kind of look-but-don’t-touch way, seemed way more approachable, way more likeable, way more loving.

He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

From the swings, they went to the slide and the kid climbed the steps and came down, squealing like it was the most fun ever. And Laura clapped her hands, the first time and the fourteen other times, as if it was a spectacular thing the child was doing.

Then it was to navigate a set of horizontal bars, but the child was way too short and Laura had to hold him or her—he still wasn’t quite sure—up while the child got across. Then the kid must have convinced Laura to try because Laura jumped and reached and her shirt came with her, showing a wide expanse of fair skin.

From a distance, she was fit and athletic and he wished he were closer to see if there were a smattering of freckles on her belly, like there were across her pretty little nose.

All too soon, Laura reached for the child’s hand and they started walking. He thought they might be headed back to the motel but instead, they walked into O’Grady’s, which appeared to be a small restaurant across from the park.

He took that opportunity to let Lucky out to do his thing and expend some energy. Then it was back in the SUV.

Thirty minutes later, Laura and the kid walked out of the restaurant. He started his car and drove back to the hotel the way he’d come, intending to be in his spot, waiting for them.

But when he arrived, he saw a police car parked behind Laura’s Mustang. There was an officer out of his car, looking into the windows of the vehicle.

What the hell?

It took Laura and the kid twenty-four seconds to round the edge of the driveway. They were holding hands. And then it was like he was watching something in slow motion, the movements were so exaggerated.

The shocked look on Laura’s face. The quick jerk of the arm. The turn. Them going back the direction that they’d come.

He wanted to race after them but he knew he could catch them easily enough—he had wheels and they were on foot. Right now, he wanted some information.

He got out with his crutches—always better to look a little nonthreatening when approaching a cop. He made his way to the car. “Afternoon, officer,” he said.

“Afternoon. This your car?”

“No,” Rico said. “It’s a beauty, though.”

“I know. That’s why I stopped. My wife wants one. We’re celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary next month and I’m thinking of surprising her.”

“Sweet,” he said. He put his hand on the white paint. “I’d go for this in red.”

The cop smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Have a good day,” Rico said, and proceeded to walk toward the hotel office. He opened the door and a thin woman behind the counter stood. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a restaurant called O’Grady’s,” he said.

She used her thumb to point north. “A block up.”

“Thanks,” he said. He turned. The cop and his car were gone.

He went back to his SUV, started it and drove down the street. Laura and the child were moving fast, considerably faster than they’d walked before. He saw a parking spot thirty feet ahead of them and pulled in. Got out. Was leaning up against his vehicle when they got close enough that Laura could see him.

Recognition. Then panic. He watched it play out across her face. It dawned on him that she probably thought that he had something to do with the cop being there. Like maybe he’d called the police after finding out that she’d been at the cabin without actually renting it.

Before he could explain, she bent down, scooped up the child and started running. And she was smart about it. She got off the sidewalk and started running between houses, making it difficult for him to follow her in his SUV.

In a foot race, even carrying a child, she had the advantage. His ankle would not stand up to that much activity.

He got behind the wheel and took off, making several quick turns. Not knowing the town well made it hard to predict where she might emerge. He went the wrong way on a one-way, and just when he thought he might have lost her, he saw her pop out from an alley in his rearview mirror.

He jammed his car in Reverse, backed up in someone’s driveway and floored it. He caught up with her just as she was about to cross the street. He pulled in front of her, leaned across the seat and opened the door.

“Get in. Please,” he added. “That cop wasn’t after you. He was just admiring your car.”

He saw what might have been hope in her pretty eyes. But mistrust quickly crowded it out. “Are you following me?” she asked.

He considered lying but thought there was already plenty of that in the mix. “Yes. When you left this morning, I saw you turn toward the store but then shortly after that, you reversed directions. I was intrigued.”

“You said you were going to take a shower.”

She’d been counting on the fact that he wouldn’t be at the window, watching the road. “I know. My name is Rico Metez. I own the cabin that you were staying in last night. So I know there was no mix-up on the rental. I think you’re in trouble, Laura.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Because when you were getting ready to leave, he—” he nodded his head toward the child “—called you Laura.”

He could read the dismay on her face. She’d been tripped up and hadn’t even realized it at the time. Perhaps because she didn’t pay attention to small details. Perhaps because her brain was going a mile a minute, trying to find a solution to whatever problem she was dealing with. “I’d like to help you,” he said.

“Why would you do that?” she asked.

“Because it’s what I do. I help people.”

“Modern-day Robin Hood?”

It was a rather apt descriptor. “Nothing so fancy. I own a security company.” He pulled a business card from his visor and tossed it to her. It had his picture and Wingman Security’s business address.

“Why would I trust you?” she asked.

“Because I think you need to trust somebody,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I’m your best bet right now.”

He could tell she still wasn’t convinced. He looked into his rearview mirror. “And don’t look now, but that cop is headed our direction.”

She did look.

He hadn’t been lying. The cop car was approaching.

It she was on the up-and-up, it was the perfect opportunity for her to flag the officer down.

Instead she opened the back door on his four-door SUV and she and the child got in.

Chapter 4

Lucky was barking and acting like this was the best day ever. He thought the dog was about five seconds from vaulting into the back seat and licking Laura and the kid to death. “Settle down,” he told the dog, and got a look back that said, Don’t you get how exciting this is? We just picked up friends.

Laura wasn’t looking at him as if he was a friend. Her face was white and pinched, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t breathing.

“Nice day for the park,” Rico said. He glanced in his rearview mirror. “I’d feel better if you both buckled up before we take off. I’m sensitive lately to collision issues.”

Laura buckled the child into the middle seat and herself into the one on the passenger side. The kid said nothing but his eyes were very big.

“Do you crash frequently?” Laura asked. He could hear the tension in her voice.

“Well, never in a car yet,” Rico said. The cop was driving by. He turned his head slightly to look at Rico but didn’t seem to recognize him from their short conversation at the hotel. He gave the back seat occupants no attention.

He could almost see the air come out of Laura in relief.

“But that’s how I got my ankle injury. I mentioned that I was waterskiing. I fell because somebody almost crashed into the boat that was pulling me.”

“Accidentally?” she asked, maybe hearing something in his voice that he tried to hide but wasn’t always successful. The circumstances of the accident bothered him beyond the fact that it was a giant pain to have been hurt.

“You would hope so,” he said. But it had been all so damn odd. The approaching boat had changed course so drastically, so quickly, that the driver pulling him had had no choice but to jerk the wheel.

“Did they arrest the other driver?”

“No. Didn’t catch him.” If he’d have been driving the boat, the guy wouldn’t have gotten away. He’d tried to insist that the driver pursue the boat, but everybody had been too damn worried about him.

He’d wanted the idiot caught.

And had been so frustrated afterward when it seemed that nobody could agree on what color the boat was, what size or anything about the driver. There had been three people in his boat and he’d gotten three different versions of everything. As was generally the case, firsthand witnesses were not much help.

He, unfortunately, to his great irritation, hadn’t been much better. The sun had been in his eyes and he’d hit the water hard. But he was fairly confident the boat was red with a silver stripe, even though none of the other people in his boat agreed with him.

He eased out of the parking space.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

She sounded as if she was about ten seconds from throwing herself and the child out of the car. “Relax,” he said. “Back to your car.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she added.

“I want Ja-Ja,” the kid said.

“We’ll get her,” Laura assured.

“Ja-Ja?” Rico asked. Was there a child he’d somehow missed?

“Ja-Ja is a doll,” Laura said.

He supposed boys played with dolls. Why not? “So you took the long way to the store?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. She shook her head in disgust. “Listen, I’m sorry I lied about renting the cabin. I drove a long way yesterday and, quite frankly, didn’t think I could get back into a car and drive any farther. And we really needed to have a good night’s rest.”

“How did you get the entry code?”

“I didn’t,” she said quickly. “The back door was open.”

He didn’t think so. It technically was possible. He had somebody who came in and cleaned the cabin and brought fresh linens between guests. They could have left the door unlocked. But he didn’t think it was a coincidence that she was driving a car that had been at one time registered to Melissa Trane, who had been providing care for Georgina.

“So you just happened to be driving through the mountains and decided to see if my particular cabin was unlocked?” he asked, poking at her a little more.

“It was the first one that I saw where there were no cars. I thought I’d take a chance. I got lucky.”

Right. It was time to get to the important stuff. “Are you his mother?”

She shook her head. “Caretaker.”

“Where are the parents?” he asked.

“Traveling. Asia.”

He was pretty sure she was lying. The explanations were succinct and coming easy. Made him think she’d practiced them.

He pulled into the lot of the hotel, near her car. “You said that you’d driven all day. Where from?”

“Tennessee.”

That was probably true, since the car was registered to somebody who lived in Nashville. “So you drove from Tennessee to Colorado because...” He let his voice drift off.

“I’ve always wanted to see these mountains.”

Okay, it was time to cut through the crap. He shut off his SUV and turned in his seat so that he could see her. “Why did you run when you saw the cop looking at your car?”

* * *

Since the minute she’d gotten into his SUV, she’d been expecting the question. And she’d read that the best lies were those that were closest to the truth. But Hannah couldn’t hear this particular explanation—it would confuse the poor child too much. So far the fact that they were referring to her as a he hadn’t registered, probably because the little girl was fascinated with the dog, but it was only a matter of time before she would pick up on that, too.

“I panicked,” she said.

“Why?”

She deliberately glanced at Hannah. “I’d be happy to tell you but it’s naptime right now. If you want to wait a few minutes, we can talk then.”

“Sure,” he said, as if he had nothing better to do. But she didn’t buy it. He’d followed her for an hour. He was asking questions about her and Hannah’s relationship. She wasn’t going to be able to shake him, so she needed to give him an explanation that he’d believe.

She opened the door and got her and Hannah out. She didn’t look back as they walked up the stairs to their room. Once inside, she had the little girl go potty, washed her hands and face, and tucked her in, with Ja-Ja at her side. “Sleep tight,” she said, and kissed her on her nose.

Hannah was tired from the park and she didn’t even offer a token protest. Just stuck her thumb in her mouth and rolled onto her side. She was asleep in minutes.

When Laura opened the door, she saw that Rico was out of his SUV and sitting at the picnic table near the office area. His crutches were leaning against the table. Lucky was on a leash, sitting next to his right leg.

He’d seemed to buy the explanation that the cabin was open. There was no way that she was burning her friend Melissa. The woman needed her job more than ever since her husband had found somewhere new to take off his boots.

She closed the door and made sure it was locked. Then walked down the stairs and toward him, pretending that she had nothing to hide. She wrapped her arms around herself, thinking that it was much colder than it had been when she and Hannah had walked to the park. And the sun had disappeared behind the clouds.

“Already asleep?” he asked.

“Went down easy. Being outside and running around the park does that.” She sat across from him, where she could see her room.

He nodded. “Works the same for Lucky.”

She smiled. “I suppose it does.” She stared at her hands.

“I think you were just about to tell me why you ran when you saw the cop looking at your car.”

“It’s sort of a long story,” she said.

“I’ve got some time,” he said easily.

She pulled up her sleeve, showed him her elbow. Where her scar was still pretty fresh looking. “Six months ago I was running and I fell.” True. “I had to have surgery.” True. “I unfortunately developed an addiction to pain medication and after a while, my doctor wouldn’t prescribe any more.” True as well, just not her story. But she knew the details. Had confronted the patient about his addiction. “I broke into my friend’s house, because I knew she had some, and I stole them. She blamed her teenage stepson.”

She stopped. He said nothing.

“Because I’d gotten away with it once, I went back a second time. But she came home early and I got caught. I begged her not to call the police but she was so angry. I was arrested, ultimately posted bond, and I had a court date. But I...failed to appear in court. There’s a warrant out for my arrest. That’s why I don’t really want to do a meet and greet with the police.”

He studied her. “Where are you getting your pills from now?” he asked.

“The experience scared the hell out of me. I kicked the habit. It’s been a couple months now. It was a stupid thing to do and I felt like a fool. Before all this happened, my good friends had asked me if I could watch their child when they went to Asia on business. They don’t really have anybody else that they trust. I intend to go back to court, but I couldn’t risk doing it before their trip in case it would mess up my ability to babysit.”

“Failing to appear in court doesn’t endear you to the judge.”

“I know. And when they are back, I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to do the right thing.”

Right now she was doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.

He looked up at the sky. “Did you happen to check the weather before driving from Tennessee?”

She shook her head. There’d been no time for that.

“Are you familiar with Colorado weather?”

Again, a shake.

“Winter can come early. Almost every year, we’ll get an early snow in late October. Sometimes it’s just a couple inches and sometimes, like what we’re expecting now, it snows a couple feet.”

“Feet?” she repeated.

“Supposed to roll in within the next few hours. Trust me on this—you’re not going to want to be on the road.”

“We’re staying here for a couple days,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

“You got a stove and refrigerator in your room?” he asked.

“No. But there’s a restaurant close by.”

“If they’re open. It’s going to be blizzard conditions. Not great for taking out a child. Not that I’m trying to scare you or anything, but I wouldn’t want you to be caught unaware.”

Well, she’d stepped in a pile of it, as her dad would have said. And then he’d have helped her find a solution. But he and Mom weren’t here anymore. Robbed, absolutely robbed of their lives, by a drunk. And she’d lost not just her parents; their deaths had been the divide that had separated her and her brother for so many years.

Hannah didn’t have boots or a winter coat. She had a fall jacket, but that likely wasn’t going to cut it. She needed to find a store, get the right clothes for both of them and get some food in case they couldn’t leave the room.

The idea of staying in that hotel room was a bleak one, but it beat being on the road. The mountain passes were scary enough on dry roads on a clear day.

“I appreciate the heads-up,” she said. “And...and I’m hoping that you don’t feel compelled to report me to the police. I know you don’t have any reason to feel kindly toward me. After all, I shouldn’t have slept at your cabin. I should have immediately told you the truth. But I did leave as soon as I could. I intended to get and stay out of your hair.”

“I’m not interested in turning you in. There’s no reward, right?”

It took her a minute to realize that he was teasing. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t. But thank you. Again.” It seemed she’d stumbled upon a really nice guy. “Do you happen to know this town? Is there an area where I can find a few stores?”

“You passed them on the way in,” he said.

She felt her face heat up. “Great.” She stood. “I should get back up to the room. It was a...pleasure to meet you, Rico.” It was true. Bad circumstances and all, but he’d been very decent.

She got about two steps before he said, “I think you should come back to the cabin.”

She turned. “What?”

“It’s going to be a hell of a storm with heavy snow and high winds. Very possible that the hotel will lose electricity. If that happens at the cabin, I’ve got a backup generator and a big fireplace.”

It sounded...safe. But what was he getting out of the deal? Just because he seemed decent, it didn’t mean he wasn’t a serial killer. But wouldn’t he have killed them the first night?

Ridiculous question. Ridiculous idea to go back. ‘I can see where that might be a good deal for me, but I’m unclear as to why you’d make the offer.”

He shrugged. “Like I said earlier, I like doing things for people when they need a hand. And with my ankle, I’m not all that crazy about being at the cabin by myself in this kind of storm. If something happens, it would be good to have another adult there, somebody who could carry wood inside, shovel snow, scrape ice off windows or any number of things that might be hard for me to do in bad weather.”

It made sense. After she’d injured her elbow, she’d been terrified that she’d do something to reinjure it before it was fully healed. It had been such an unexpected reaction. But good came out of most things, and she’d come out of the injury with a better understanding of why some patients were reluctant to push themselves in therapy. Had realized that it wasn’t laziness but rather fear.

“How long are you going to be staying at the cabin?” she asked.

“Couple weeks.”

That would be so wonderful. Time to pull together a plan. “I could pay you something,” she said.

“No need. You can buy a few groceries if it makes you feel better.”

She’d be saving all the money that she’d spend on the hotel. “May I borrow your phone?” she asked.

If he was surprised by the request, he didn’t show it. Simply handed it to her. She opened the browser. Typed in Wingman Security. Quickly read the home page. Personal and property security. Discreet. Trusted. Recommended. All the keywords jumped out at her. She went to the bio tab.

There he was. Rico Metez. Former air force communications specialist.

He was what he’d said he was. He’d been polite, helpful, and he had a valid reason to be offering up a room in his cabin. She was going to have to take the chance.

“I’d really love to,” she said. But it was going to be impossible to continue the subterfuge about Hannah being a boy. “I have another confession,” she said. “I think I should tell you now so that you don’t think I keep springing these things on you. Hannah, that’s her name, isn’t a little boy. She’s a girl.”

He didn’t look too surprised.

“You knew?” she asked.

“I thought,” he clarified.

“I was worried that once you found out that we were in the cabin without permission, that you might call the police. You’d have sent them looking for a woman with a little boy, not a little girl. That would have given me a small advantage.”

“I could have easily described your car,” he said. “It’s unusual.”

Yes, she really wished Clovis Trane drove a tan Chevy. But that likely wouldn’t have been in storage and immediately available. Everything was a trade-off. “You’re right. I didn’t think of that. I guess I’m not all that skilled at this.”

He looked at his watch. “I hate to wake Hannah in the middle of her nap, but we should probably get going if we’re going to stop at the store first and then head back.”

“She’ll go back to sleep once we’re in the car,” she said. “It will take me just a minute to pack and then I need to stop by the hotel office.” She’d paid for three nights plus the security deposit. The woman could legitimately charge her for one night, since the room would have to be cleaned after them, but that still meant that she was due a healthy refund. A refund she was likely to need down the road. “Be right back.”

Chapter 5

Rico had no idea how much of what she had said was true. But he was fairly confident that she wasn’t a danger to the child or to him. Neither of those things was proof that she had a legitimate right to have Hannah. That and the possibility that she might be in a very bad situation overrode any hesitation to simply wash his hands of them.

He sat in his SUV, watching over the hotel as she went back upstairs and once again came out with their meager belongings. She put those in her car. Then it was into the office. That took less than five minutes. Then it was back upstairs and when she came out this time, she was carrying Hannah.

He cursed his ankle. He wanted to get out and help, to carry the child. But because of the stairs, the little girl—thank goodness that had been cleared up, he’d thought he could tell the difference—was undoubtedly safer in Laura’s arms. Laura who? He had still not asked for her last name, and she had still not offered.

He started his vehicle and pulled up next to her. “For now, I’ll lead the way to the store. We can get whatever you need as well as stock up on some groceries.”

She nodded and got in the Mustang. They drove, with her staying close on his tail, as if she was afraid she’d lose him. When they got to the small shopping area and he got out, he saw that Hannah had already fallen back asleep. The alternative to waking her up again was for him to stay in the car with her and he knew Laura wasn’t going to go for that. Or Laura could stay while he shopped, but he really had no idea what she wanted or needed.

“We keep interrupting her nap,” he said, as he stood by the car, waiting while Laura got Hannah out of the car seat.

“I know. She’s a good sport about it, though,” she said. “She’s a really great kid.”

He heard something in her voice. Pride. Love. He was more confident than ever that she wasn’t a danger to Hannah.

Keeping up the pretense that his ankle was much weaker than it was, he reached for his crutches. When they went into Bratt’s Mercantile, which was Moreville’s answer to the looming presence of the superstores that were sixty miles away, in that it offered a hodgepodge of items, ranging from clothing to car batteries to sheets to fresh fruit, she reached for a cart.

“I’ll push,” she said. “We’ll try to keep things separated to make it easier to figure out who pays for what at the checkout.” She put Hannah in the up-front portion of the cart.

The selection was broad but not deep, and when she got to the children’s aisle, there were just a few snow pants and coats to choose from. Hannah, however, seemed delighted when Laura picked out size five snow pants and a matching winter coat. Purple with pink trim.

“For me?” the little girl asked, sounding very excited.

“Yes. It’s going to get cold and snow,” Laura said. “You’ll need these.”

“Snow?” repeated Hannah, as if it was something quite magical.

He understood. She’d probably seen snow on television but if she’d been in Tennessee her whole life, she had absolutely no idea of what was coming.

“We’ll build a snowman,” Laura promised. She moved over to the mittens and hats, then to the children’s boots. The cart was starting to fill up. After she added a couple pairs of pants and more socks, she looked up. “That should be good. We can get groceries.”

“What about winter clothes for you?” he asked.

He could see the indecision cross her face. “I suppose,” she said.

And when they got to the women’s aisle, she quickly found some black snow boots and a lined brown barn jacket. Here she checked prices before she put the items in her cart. As if she hadn’t cared so much what she was spending if it was for Hannah, but for herself, she was going to watch her pennies.

Mother bear. Putting her cub first.

She grabbed gloves and a scarf. “Okay,” she said.

“I need a couple things,” he said, pointing toward the men’s aisle. In minutes, he’d picked up insulated underwear and a hooded sweatshirt. All in a size much too small for him but he didn’t think she noticed. She likely had no idea how bitingly cold a Colorado wind could be, and he did not want her to be caught unprepared.

Then it was to the automotive area where he picked up a snow brush and an ice scraper. “You’re going to need these,” he said.

She nodded and put them in the cart. At the end of the aisle was a display of shovels. He put one in the cart. He had several at his cabin but she could take this one with her. Winter was just starting; she’d have plenty of opportunity to use it if she stayed in Colorado.

When they got to the grocery aisle, he turned to her. “I don’t want to have to think about who bought what before I eat it. So I’m happy to get the groceries.”

“I can pay for our share,” she said. It appeared she didn’t want to be in his debt.

“We’ll figure that out later,” he said. “Let’s just get what we need. I want to get home before the snow starts.”

The grocery section of the store was busier, as if other people had the same idea. Bread, eggs and milk were flying off the shelves. He got some of each, as well as some packages of chicken and ground turkey, before heading toward the fruits and vegetables. He took some of most everything before moving on.

They rounded the last corner of the four-aisle section and almost ran into another shopper.

“Rico Metez, is that you?” a woman asked. “And why are you on crutches?”

It took him a minute but he realized it was Maddy Bristol. He’d gone to high school with her. Thin, with long dark hair, she still looked very much the same as she did when she was eighteen. “Maddy, nice to see you. Just a little ankle thing, no big deal.”

“Are you back in the area?” she asked.

“Just visiting,” he said.

She turned to look at Laura. “Hi. I’m Maddy. I went to school with Rico.”

He was just about to jump in when Laura smiled. “Was he a health nut even then?” she asked, waving a hand toward the cart.

“Only if you consider chili fries and chocolate shakes healthy.”

“Basic food groups,” Laura said. “Nice to meet you. Good luck in getting home before the snow starts.” She pushed her cart forward.

“Absolutely.” Maddy pulled a card from her purse and held it out to him. “Keep in touch, all right?”

“Of course.” Rico took the card and followed Laura. Nicely done, he thought. She’d managed to be polite and engaging without giving up any information about herself or Hannah. His partners always teased him about being a smooth talker, but he was pretty sure he might have found his match.

At the checkout, he used a credit card for all the groceries and his items; she paid cash for her and Hannah’s clothes, carefully counting out the one hundred and fifty-nine dollars. So few people paid cash for anything anymore. But if she was on the run from the law, she likely didn’t want anybody to be able to find her by tracing her credit card activity.

And she’d borrowed his cell phone earlier, leading him to believe that she didn’t have one. It was dangerous to be traveling, especially with a child, and not have some way to call for help. But had she dumped that as well because of the risks of being tracked?

They left the store and put everything in his SUV. He got behind the wheel and tossed Maddy’s card onto the console. While they’d been in the store, the wind had changed. It had picked up, was colder, and it looked as if a wall of gray-colored clouds was rolling in from the northwest.

“You grew up around here?” she asked, standing by his still-open door.

“Yes.” He wasn’t inclined to share details. He might be willing to expose himself to whatever threat she posed, but not his parents.

“Colorado seems like a good place to be a kid. Mountains. Lots of sunshine.” She glanced at the sky. “Usually, right?”

“More than three hundred days of sunshine a year,” he said. “Just not today. Do you want anything to eat before we take off?” he asked.

She again looked at the sky. “Hannah and I had something earlier,” she said, sounding nervous. “But if you need to eat...”

“I’m fine,” he said. “This time, you lead and I’ll follow you.”

“Sort of like before,” she said wryly. “Except I didn’t know you were there.”

He liked that she was a little scrappy. “Right. Easier now that I don’t have to stay so far behind you.” He closed his door and rolled his window down a couple inches.

She walked to the Mustang, buckled Hannah into her car seat, then got behind the wheel.

“Do you have a phone in case I need to call you?” he asked before she pulled her door shut.

“Just blink your lights and honk your horn. I’ll pull over.”

If she had a phone, she wasn’t copping to it. And her method wasn’t ideal on mountain roads where the shoulder was oftentimes narrow, but it was unlikely that he was going to have to contact her. “Okay. I’ll see you at the cabin.”

* * *

I’ll see you at the cabin. She was headed back.

It would be a safe place for Hannah. Out of the storm, out of the public eye.

But was it as safe for her? She doubted that. Rico had already beat her at the game once by seeing her reverse her direction and then deciding to follow her. However, him catching up to her and letting her know that the cop wasn’t interested in her car had been a godsend. Otherwise, who knows how long she’d have wandered the streets with Hannah, afraid to go back for her car.

She knew she’d been frightened before. After all, one couldn’t get to the ripe old age of thirty-three and not have had the pants scared off of them at some point. But rounding that corner and seeing that cop looking into her car had been terrifying. Then minutes later, seeing Rico casually leaning next to his car, her only thought had been to run.

She’d cut through yards and alleys, but he’d trumped her again.

She’d wanted to tell him to go to hell but when she’d seen the cop car coming toward them, she’d had to take the chance. Had intended to get in his vehicle, apologize and be done with him. But then he’d offered her refuge at the cabin. I help people. That’s what he’d said.

And how had she repaid that kindness? By continuing to lie to him. By twisting the real life story of one of her patients about being wanted for narcotics theft and telling him that Hannah’s parents were in Asia.

Both whoppers.

But he’d seemed to accept the explanation. Hadn’t even asked too many clarifying questions. And now, as she negotiated the mountain curves, she had plenty of time to stew on that. Was he not naturally curious, or did he easily just accept things at face value? Or was he playing her in some way?

Hannah had fallen asleep again about ten minutes into the drive. She’d wanted to hold on to her new snow pants and after showing Ja-Ja, she now had them wadded up in a makeshift pillow.

Laura felt pretty damn stupid for not having paid more attention to the weather. It was no excuse that in Tennessee, they never really had to worry about big snowstorms. She wasn’t in Tennessee anymore.

Wouldn’t likely be back for a long time. Maybe never. That was sad but not her biggest loss.

She felt the deep ache in her chest that had been there since she’d made her decision, since she’d scooped up Hannah and they’d ran. She was never going to be able to practice as a physical therapist again. To do that, she’d have to use her real name, her real license, and even if she was halfway across the country, the risk was too great.

It had taken her so many years to earn her degree, to find just the right job. And now that was over. She’d thought she was leaving it temporarily when she’d gotten the job at the daycare. Had never dreamed it would end this way.

But maybe, just maybe, even if she couldn’t use her license, she could still provide some private care, maybe for someone who’d been in an accident or had a stroke. For someone who might be more concerned about her ability to help them versus her credentials.

She would work it out. She had to.

She would find a place for them to live, a place where Hannah could go to school, and a place where she could earn a living to support the two of them.

There was no other choice.

It started to snow when she was still twenty minutes from the cabin. Big fluffy flakes. She almost called out to Hannah, to wake up and see the snow. But then realized that the little girl would have plenty of opportunity if Rico was right. It was going to snow for hours, maybe even a full day.

She couldn’t, quite frankly, imagine.

By the time she pulled into the driveway of the cabin, the ground was already covered. She was grateful that they had made the drive in the daylight. A couple times, her back end had slipped just a little on the roads and if that had happened at night, it would have scared her to death.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said. “Time to wake up.”

The little girl stretched in her seat, opened her eyes. And a big smile lit her face. “Laura, look at the snow,” she said. “Can I play in it?”

“Of course,” Laura said. Behind her, Rico was turning into the lane. He’d kept a safe distance behind her, not hurrying her but not allowing cars between them. She was confident that his SUV had handled better than the Mustang.

He beeped his horn at her and she looked in her rearview mirror. He motioned for her to pull into the detached garage that sat fifty yards away from the house. The big overhead door was already going up. She pulled in and he pulled in next to her.

“Hannah, I’m going to carry you inside so your shoes don’t get wet. Once we get your new snow stuff on, including your boots, you can go outside and play.” She’d learned a great deal about small children in the nine weeks that she’d been working at the daycare. After a nap and usually a small snack, they were raring to go again, and if you didn’t give them something to do, it didn’t usually go well. There’d be pushing and shoving and a few tears. Here, because there weren’t any other kids, there’d probably just be a meltdown.

And Rico might decide that he’d made one big mistake in offering up his home to them.

Speaking of Rico, he was waiting outside the garage, leaning on his crutches, watching her. He had snowflakes in his dark hair and with his mirrored sunglasses, jeans and boots, he looked rugged and very male. But she needed to stop ogling and start doing the heavy lifting.

“I’ll get the sacks,” she said. “That was our deal, that I’d do the things that you shouldn’t be doing. And be careful with your crutches in this snow. If you fall, it won’t be good.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just wait for Lucky.” The dog was already out, draining his bladder on the roots of a tree in the middle of the yard.

“Let me put Hannah inside first,” she said. “Then I’ll be back for the sacks.”

They all got inside. Laura put Hannah on the couch. “I’m going outside to get the rest of the groceries. Just stay here, right here, where I can see you through the window. When I get back, we’ll put away the groceries and then get you dressed to play outside.”

“I’ll watch her,” Rico said.

She hesitated.

“Really,” Rico said. “I’ve got this.”

* * *

How hard could it be? he thought.

Relatively hard, because Laura was no more out the door before Hannah was off the couch. She grabbed her backpack and trotted back toward the bedroom.

He followed her, wincing slightly. His ankle was sore from the driving. Laura was probably right. He better use his crutches for a while.

By the time he got there, she had the backpack unzipped and was dumping it out onto the bed. There were some clothes, all in grays and dark blues, a few books, colored pencils and construction paper, and a big plastic sack full of trolls. There must have been six or seven of them.

“You like trolls?” he said.

“They’ve never seen snow.”

He heard the front door open, thought that Laura was likely to come charging down the hallway with a shovel in her hand. “I’ve got her,” he called out. “She’s showing me her trolls.”

“Okay,” she yelled back.

“You know what you can do in snow,” he said.

She shook her head.

“You can build a snowman. Or a snow lady. Or a snow kid.”

“A snow family,” she said, proving that she was tracking with the conversation.

“A snow dog,” he said.

She giggled. “A snow cat. With a big long tail. And mittens on his paws.” She clapped her hands together.

She really was a cute kid.

And when Laura came in five minutes later, after bringing everything in and putting away the groceries, he and Hannah were sitting on the floor, drawing said cat.

“It’s a snow cat,” Hannah explained.

“With a tail long enough to wrap around that apple tree?” Laura asked, examining the drawing.

He’d been responsible for the tree. “Longest tail in the world,” explained Rico.

“Of course,” she said. “Hannah, if you want to go outside and play, we probably need to get you dressed. It’s going to get dark in an hour or so and then you won’t be able to go outside.”

Hannah reached for the sack that held her new outside clothes. She yanked everything out and tossed them in Rico’s direction. “Get me dressed,” she said.

He glanced at Laura and could see the indecision cross her face. But then she nodded. Didn’t leave the room, but simply stayed by the doorway.

He held up the snow pants and Hannah stepped into them. Then it was the new coat, the mittens, the hat. He removed the tags as he went. Finally, he put her boots on. She immediately started stomping around the room. “Let’s go,” she said.

“I’ll take you, sweetheart,” Laura said. “Rico has a sore ankle.”

“Did you hurt it?” Hannah asked, her little forehead scrunched in concern.

“Yes,” he said. “You two go outside. I’ll start something for an early dinner.”

Hannah kept up the stomping while Laura got ready. It took her just minutes and then they were out the door. Rico went to the window, the same one he’d stood at just that morning when Laura had driven away. The same one he’d been standing at ten minutes later, when she reversed directions and he’d decided to follow her.

Sometimes things worked out well.

He’d been surprised that she’d agreed to come back to the cabin. He thought it had a great deal to do with the fact that she perceived him to be somewhat of an invalid. Good grief, he hadn’t even been allowed to carry in a sack of groceries. Made him feel a bit emasculated but if it gave her some comfort, then he wasn’t opposed to keeping up the pretense.

There was about an inch of snow on the ground. Not enough to build a good snowman, or even a snow cat, but plenty to lie in and make snow angels. They did a bunch of that and then caught flakes with their tongues and ran around, laughing and giggling.

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