Her Christmas Protector
Terri Reed

MILLS & BOON

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To my mother, Dorothy. I love you.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ONE

The scent of pine evoked memories of better times, times before…

The doors of the bus swooshed closed. The hulking vehicle rambled away, leaving Faith Delange in a wake of acrid exhaust.

Stifling a cough, she set her bags on the ground and tugged her wool coat tighter against the December chill. Though nothing could ever guard her against the isolation and fear of being found.

A “Help Wanted” sign hanging in the window of a little diner caught her attention and her stomach growled, spurring her onward. Her leather-soled shoes slipped slightly on patches of ice and sloshed in the dirty snow.

A clear, blue sky made a perfect backdrop for tall evergreens and the rustic little town nestled amid the snow-dusted greenery. In the distance, majestic mountains rose above the trees as if stretching toward heaven. Her gaze took in the town, which looked to be a refurbished antique of the old west decorated with holiday cheer. A sense of well-being swirled around her. A spark of hope leaped to life deep within her soul.

Faith liked what she saw. Here, she could be anybody. Here, she could be safe, if only long enough to rest and eat.

Maybe here, God might answer her prayers. The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

With the side of her hip, she pushed open the door of the restaurant and walked into a replica of an old dining car. Over the striped wallpaper hung festive cutouts. A small Christmas tree sat on the counter near the cash register. A bright yellow box with the word “toys” blazoned across the front sat overflowing with wrapped presents to the right of the door. Booths upholstered in red vinyl lined the walls. In the corner, a jukebox played a slow country melody, the words of love and loss bringing a pang to Faith’s heart.

A frazzled, gray-haired waitress smiled from across the room. “Come on in, honey.” The waitress wiped a hand across the skirt of her apron, adding another greasy stain to the front. “Sit where you’d like.”

Every head in the diner swiveled in Faith’s direction. She dropped her gaze to the floor and wished people would go back to what they were doing. She just wanted to blend in, be another faceless body.

Who was she kidding? Not only was she a stranger in this small community, but she looked awful, having worn the same clothes for the last three days.

The smell of bacon drifted past her nose, reminding her of her goal. Food and a job. But the last open booth seemed a mile away from where she stood.

She tightened her grip on her tattered suitcases and started forward just as an older, grizzled man in a plaid shirt vacated a spot at the counter. Moving quickly, Faith claimed the stool and set her suitcases on the floor at her feet.

In her peripheral vision she noticed the man to her right and his openly curious stare. She tilted her head away and picked up the menu.

The waitress wiped down the counter. “What can I get for you, dear?”

Her mouth watering and her stomach cramping with hunger, Faith succumbed to the temptation to order a full meal. “I’ll have the eggs Benedict, please.” She set down the menu. “And coffee.”

“Ethel, here, brews the best coffee in the whole state,” the man stated.

Faith nodded her acknowledgement but kept her gaze forward. She didn’t talk to strangers. Especially men.

Ethel beamed. “You’re a charmer, L.C. Your order will be right up, dear.” The waitress moved away with a spring in her step.

The warmth of the diner seeped into Faith’s skin and her coat became too much. She shrugged it down her shoulders and released her left arm from the sleeve. Gingerly, she tried to push the right sleeve down without having to raise her arm.

“Here, let me,” the man, L.C., offered as he reached for her coat.

Faith jerked back at the unexpected move. She stared at him. He had close-cropped dark hair and a ruggedly handsome face with a strong jawline. The slight bump along the ridge of his nose gave his face character, and she wondered how he’d acquired the break. His clean-shaven cheeks barely hinted at the dark shadow she guessed would appear by the end of the day. Dark eyebrows slashed over the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

Just because he was handsome didn’t mean she could trust him. She knew better than most what evil could lurk behind a beautiful facade.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, holding up calloused hands.

“Th…that’s okay.”

“May I?” he asked and nodded his head toward her arm.

Not wanting to draw more attention, she slowly nodded. One of his big hands caught the end of her sleeve, his fingers lightly brushing against the back of her hand, setting off a maelstrom of tingles up her arm. His other hand grasped the collar of her coat. In a smooth motion he slipped the coat down her arm. Faith winced slightly as her shoulder moved.

“Did I hurt you?” L.C.’s rich, mellow voice held a note of concern.

She swallowed and tried to find her voice. “Old injury.”

“Would you like to hang your jacket up?” He motioned toward a row of hooks on the wall near the entryway.

“No, thanks.” She took the coat and laid it across one of her bags.

He turned his attention back to his breakfast. Faith studied him from the corner of her eye. He wore dusty cowboy boots, faded jeans and a blue denim shirt. A cowboy? In Oregon? She’d pictured the mountains of the northwest full of lumberjacks, not cowboys.

Ethel placed a large plateful of steaming hot food in front of Faith. Faith’s stomach reacted to the aroma with a loud rumble.

At the man’s deep chuckle, a sheepish smile touched her lips. “I’m hungry.”

“So I heard.” He flashed a grin.

Heat crept up her neck.

Ethel leaned her hip against the counter in front of the man, drawing his attention. “How’s your mother coming along?”

He sighed. “Better. Reva’s been tending to her, but Mom isn’t happy about it. She wants me to find someone else to come in and stay with her.”

Ethel snorted. “I don’t blame her. Reva would be the last person I’d want hovering over me. She’d be enough to bring on another heart attack.”

Faith glanced at L.C. to see how he’d take Ethel’s disparaging remarks about this Reva person. His expression remained calm and composed. So not like other men she’d known in her life.

Luke shrugged. “Reva means well. Though, I came into town to put an ad in the paper for someone else to help out.”

Faith almost choked on her food. He needed someone to help with his mother. For one insane moment, she almost said she’d take the job. But she needed a way to get cash fast. Just what the job in the diner would offer.

“Now, you tell her hello for me. Tell her we miss her at choir practice and I’ll try to get out to the ranch this week for a visit.”

“I will, Ethel, thanks.”

Ethel turned to Faith. “How’s your breakfast, dear?”

Faith swallowed before answering. “Wonderful.” And to the man beside her she added, “And the coffee is great.”

“Told you so.” He gave her a crooked grin, knocking the breath from her lungs. As a teenager, she’d dreamed of smiles like his.

She’d also dreamed of a happy, normal marriage. Now all she had were nightmares.

“L.C.?”

He extended his hand. “Luke Campbell, at your service, Miss…”

Tentatively, she took his hand. The kiss of the sun had tanned his calloused fingers, a stark contrast to the paleness of her own hand. “Faith Delange.”

She bit back a gasp of anxiety at giving out her real name. Having used so many aliases over the last three months she sometimes forgot who she was supposed to be.

But he’d distracted her.

A big no-no.

She couldn’t let her guard down. Not for a second. She could never be sure who would be the one to give her away.

“Well, Faith, what brings you to Sisters?”

He leaned back and eyed her with an intensity that brought a heated flush to her cheeks. Her heart beat erratically at the probing question. “I’m just passing through.”

“That’s too bad.” He cocked his head to one side and studied her. “Where are you headed?”

Good question. She didn’t want to say, where I can’t be found, so she shrugged. “I’m just traveling around, seeing America.” That sounded innocuous enough.

“Really?” His gaze shifted to her suitcases on the floor.

She asked quickly, “What do you do, Mr. Campbell?”

“Please, call me Luke.”

Her gaze dropped to her plate. “Luke.”

“I…well, for the moment, I’m a rancher.”

“Why just for the moment?”

“I’m a captain in the army. My father recently passed away and my mother suffered a heart attack not long after. Thankfully, I had enough unused leave to come home and help.”

Her hand went to her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been hard.” Luke noticed the delicate shape of her fingers, fine-boned and petite. The kind of fingers meant for diamonds. Hers were bare.

He could tell she’d been traveling hard. Her wrinkled clothes looked well-worn, and the dark circles beneath her eyes told him she needed rest. He studied her face, liking the high cheekbones, wide, generous mouth and catlike eyes. Those eyes shifted ever-so-slightly toward the door. Luke twisted around to see what she found so fascinating, but there was nothing there. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“No.”

“Are you alone, then?”

She stared hard at him for a moment before slowly answering, “Yes.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Oh, I’m not.” She spoke quickly, “I’ll be catching the next bus out.” She pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear.

He shouldn’t care. He wasn’t staying much longer himself. But there was something vulnerable about her that didn’t sit well. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to stop and stay in one place for a while? Sisters has a lot to offer.”

She glanced at him sharply and wiped daintily at her mouth with a napkin. “I can see a lot from a bus window.”

“Must get terribly uncomfortable.”

She shrugged.

“How long do you plan to keep traveling?”

“As long as it takes.”

“Where to next?”

She thought for a moment. “Alaska.”

“As in tundra?”

She gave him a pointed look. “You ask a lot of questions.”

He grinned. “Guilty as charged.” People tended to open up if the right question was asked. Sometimes it took a lot of questions. “I’m a curious man.”

She leaned in close. “Haven’t you heard the one about curiosity killing the cat?”

Following her movement, he leaned closer. “Will my curiosity kill me?”

Abruptly, she sat back. Her expression took on a pained, faraway look. “It could, I suppose. I really don’t know.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

Her expression became guarded. “About what?”

Every nerve ending went on alert. She was hiding something. Luke stifled the urge to press and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t need this. Her. He had enough guilt for not being there for his father to take on another person’s problems.

Ethel stopped before them. “Would either of you like anything else?”

Faith’s expression changed and became hopeful. “Do you have pie?”

At least she had good taste and a healthy appetite. “Good choice.”

Faith liked the way Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners. But his questions still made her uncomfortable and she was thankful he let the subject drop. The last thing she needed was to have someone probing into her life. Making judgments or, worse yet, pitying her.

He pulled out his billfold from his back pocket and laid cash down on the counter.

“Here’s our homemade apple pie,” Ethel announced, setting the pie on the counter before moving away.

Luke rose and took a thick brown, shearling-lined leather coat from the hook and placed a traditional cowboy hat on his head. With an engaging grin he tipped the brim. “Faith, nice meeting you. Have a safe trip to Alaska.”

Safety. If only she had a guarantee she’d find it in the tundra, she’d actually head that way. “Thanks.”

As she watched him walk out, a familiar sense of loneliness assailed her. Only now it was more pronounced. For a moment, talking to the man, she’d felt normal. Mr. Campbell had been kind and thoughtful. Something she’d found too little of lately. Would she ever get used to the isolation?

“How’s that pie?” Ethel asked, as she refilled Faith’s coffee mug.

“Delicious,” she replied. “I…I wanted to…inquire about the job?”

Ethel’s expression went blank.

“The ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window,” Faith prompted.

“Oh, lands sakes.” Ethel shook her head. “I’m sorry, dear. That should have been taken down two days ago.”

Disappointment rolled through Faith with the force of a thunderstorm. “Oh, I see.”

“I’ll go take care of that sign right now.” Ethel hurried away.

Setting down her fork, Faith pulled open her handbag and brought out a small leather pouch. She tugged out the bills and let the change fall to the table. She didn’t think she’d have enough left after she paid her bill to buy another bus ticket.

Okay, time to regroup. The waitressing job wouldn’t have been an ideal choice anyway. She’d be too visible here, too easy to find. The town was too small.

She scoffed at the irony her life had become. Instead of tipping the server, she was the one in need of the tip. Her grandfather would be so disgusted. And he’d left her all that money. But she couldn’t dip into her inheritance without throwing up a big red flag.

Pushing away the pie plate, she dropped her head into her hands. Oh, God, please help me.

What was the point? God had abandoned her long ago. She supposed her grandfather’s steadfast belief kept her wanting to believe. But so far God hadn’t heard her prayers.

Lifting her head, she stared through blurry eyes at the money lying on the table. What was she to do?

An image of Luke drifted across her consciousness and she recalled his conversation with Ethel. He needed someone to care for his mother. An idea blossomed in the back of her mind.

He didn’t exactly say he was looking for a nurse, just someone to help his mother recover.

She could do that.

After all, she’d been the one to care for her grandfather after he suffered his heart attack. She’d watched the team of nurses come and go, seen the services they’d provided. She’d jumped right in when the nurses had refused to stay.

She had owed her grandfather that for having taken her in after her parents died. Gerald Emerson Delange had been a Bible-thumping, judgmental and unyielding man. But she’d loved him and no one could be as difficult to care for as he’d been.

Oh, yes, she could care for Luke’s mother.

But would it be a wise choice?

She wouldn’t be visible, she’d have a place to stay and the job would probably pay decently. If no one knew she was there, maybe she’d even be safe for a while.

She stretched the aching muscles in her back. She couldn’t go on like this. Fatigue was making her mind fuzzy, not to mention her dwindling funds. And the longer she stayed in the open, the more chance she’d be found.

What choice did she have?

Faith paid her bill, gathered her belongings, and hurried from the diner to find Luke.

She caught a glimpse of him as he turned the corner, disappearing behind a building a block down the street. Even from a distance he made a striking picture. Instead of the expected easy-rolling gait of a cowboy, he walked with a purposeful stride. Head up and shoulders back. Very controlled. In fact, everything about Luke spoke of a forthright and self-controlled man.

I’m a captain in the army.

She had the feeling that with Luke you got what you saw. Faith liked that. It was so opposite of what she’d lived with for so long.

Desperate to catch him before he disappeared altogether, she jogged down the sidewalk, her bags jostling at her sides.

She turned the corner as Luke climbed into a dark green Bronco. An instant later, the engine roared to life. He backed his vehicle out of the parking place, the tires crunching on the snow-covered gravel. Faith dropped her bags and ran toward him.

“Luke! Luke, wait!”

The Bronco screeched to a stop. Luke rolled down his window. “Faith, are you okay?”

His deep voice washed over her, smoothing the rough edges of her nerves.

Nodding, she blinked up at him. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

He gave her a curious stare. “Ask away.”

Anxiety threatened to wrap itself around her throat, but she bolstered her courage and plunged ahead. “I’d like to apply for that job you mentioned earlier.”

A confused frown marred his brow. “Job?”

Faith took a deep breath. “For your mother. The helper you needed.”

“I thought you were just passing through?”

“I changed my mind. The country air agrees with me.” She breathed in deep, the cold air filling her lungs and making her cough. It was either the air or she was losing her mind.

She probably was nuts to be doing this, but would she be found in this out of the way town in the middle of the Oregon Mountains? And on a ranch?

No, she didn’t think so. She was ninety-nine percent sure she’d be safe.

She’d worry about the other one percent later.

TWO

Hire her, Luke thought to himself immediately, and then heard himself say, “You’re hired.”

Her eyes rounded in surprise. “Just like that?”

Luke hesitated. He knew next to nothing about this woman and yet, when he looked into her eyes, the haunted expression that had bothered him earlier seemed to recede. “Just like that.”

“I’ll…get my bags.”

“Here, let me,” Luke offered as he opened the door. But she was already hurrying away.

Luke drummed his fingers on the door. Okay, Lord. I trust You know what You’re doing. Whatever You have planned, I’m with You.

Still, he couldn’t shake the unsettled knot in the pit of his stomach.

As Faith approached, Luke climbed out from behind the wheel and took her bags. He put them in the back and then helped her into the rig. “You travel light for someone who’s been out touring the country.”

“Easier to pack up and go.”

Luke climbed back behind the wheel and wondered what made her need to “pack up and go.”

He clamped his jaw tight. Why couldn’t God have provided some nice grandmotherly type, someone he could easily dismiss from his mind?

Luke slanted Faith a glance as he pulled out onto the street. Something about the way she held herself spoke of a quiet strength he found appealing. He wasn’t immune to her physical charms, either.

He liked the straight line of her nose and the stubbornness of her jaw. Her blond hair swung about her shoulders and he could almost imagine the feel of the silken strands gliding across his palm.

Resolutely, he shook the sensation away. He really didn’t need this.

Suddenly, Faith moved, throwing herself on the floor and he nearly careened into a building. He eased up on the gas pedal. “What are you doing?”

Her hunted expression reappeared, making her look wide-eyed and scared. “I…think my…ear…earring fell out,” she stammered and patted the floorboards.

For several seconds she continued to search the floor.

There’d been no jewelry adorning her ears. Interesting. “Find it?”

“Yes.” She attempted to sit up but her purse went flying to the floor, scattering paraphernalia at their feet. Diving down, she retrieved her goods.

Luke could have sworn she’d nudged her purse off the seat on purpose. Curiosity burned in his gut. “Room and board.”

He glanced down at her bent head. He noticed one hand held her purse while the other put air into the purse’s opening. His curiosity cranked up a notch and his brows drew together.

She peeked at him through a veil of blond hair. “Excuse me?”

She was acting so…odd. Luke forced his attention on the road ahead of them. “I said, room and board. Plus two-hundred dollars a week.”

“That sounds perfect.” Her muffled voice held relief.

They passed through town and he waved at several people. Then the realization hit him. She didn’t want anyone to see her leaving with him.

Why?

Luke turned the truck onto the road leading to his parents’ ranch. “We’re out of town. You’re safe now.”

Faith started and sat up. Her face flushed a deep crimson. “What do you mean?”

He nodded toward the floor. “You find everything?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. Thanks.” She turned away from him, her hands clasped into a tight knot.

Seeing her knuckles turn white, he felt the need to assure her and calm her fears. “Relax, Faith. It’s going to be okay.”

The fearful expression in her eyes told him she wasn’t convinced.

A little small talk might ease the situation. “Where are you from?”

“Back east.”

“Back east is a big place,” he stated with wry amusement.

One corner of her mouth lifted. “New York.”

He arched an eyebrow. “It’s a big state.”

She slanted a glance his way. “Yes. It is.”

He’d bet she came from money. The graceful table manners she’d displayed and her cultured speech oozed private school, which only left him more intrigued.

“The countryside is so beautiful and peaceful,” she commented, then asked, “Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Born and raised.” He didn’t mention he’d left at eighteen and only recently returned.

“How long ago did your mother have her heart attack?”

“Two weeks.” He’d wanted a nurse to care for his mother just in case she suffered another attack, but the doctor had assured him she would be back to normal soon. All she needed was rest and a little exercise. And someone constantly making sure she was doing just that. Someone besides Reva May Scott.

“What does your family think of your see-America jaunt?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together and shrugged. “Who’s Reva?”

She was good at changing the subject. “That’s a complicated question.”

He thought for a moment how best to answer. “Her father and my dad were good friends. When her mother took off after she was born, her dad started drinking. My dad tried to step in as much as possible for them.”

“That was generous. So you two are like siblings then?”

He let out a short laugh. Reva would disagree. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I take it from what you told Ethel, Reva and your mother don’t get along.”

“No, they don’t. Mom tried real hard with her when Reva was a little girl, but…” He shrugged. “Reva would never accept my mom.”

“That’s too bad,” Faith commented, her expression thoughtful. “I hope your mom will be okay with me coming home with you.”

Letting up on the gas, the Bronco slowed as he turned onto the gravel drive. “I wouldn’t be bringing you home if I didn’t think I was making the right decision.”

She turned away to stare out the window. Stretching before them in wild splendor was his family’s five-hundred acres. At the end of the drive sat a two-story farmhouse, flanked on either side by a pair of large, red barns, one of which had four apartments on the second floor. A paddock and corral sat off to the right side of the barn while the other side was open grazing land with sage brush and bare trees sticking up through the layer of snow.

“Oh my, is this your ranch?” Her voice filled with awe.

“Welcome to the Circle C,” Luke said with pride.

Faith twisted to look back the way they’d come. “The road is very visible. I suppose you can see cars coming long before they arrive?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She sat forward. “That’s good. You’re pretty safe out here.”

He arched a brow. “What are you afraid of?”

A huge caramel-colored animal ran along the fence.

“You raise llamas?” She turned her curious gaze on him and left his question unanswered. Again.

The depths of her hazel eyes pulled at him. He debated pressing for an answer, but there would be time enough later. “Llamas, cattle and horses.”

“I’ve never seen a llama up close.”

“They make great pets. We raise them for their coats. Raising llamas is a hobby for my mother. She used to show them, but then people started wanting to buy them so we expanded the operation.

“Our stable is small compared to others who solely raise llamas. Few people realize that Sisters is the llama capital of the United States.”

“Why here?”

“Central Oregon’s climate is similar to that of Peru, where llamas originate. Sisters is ideal, open and temperate.”

“I agree. This place is perfect.”

Luke had a feeling she meant more than just the climate. He stopped in front of the house and his golden retriever bounded up to the Bronco. Opening the door, he received a series of wet dog kisses. “Whoa, girl. It’s good to see you, too.”

Suddenly, the dog’s ears perked up and her head lifted. She dashed out of view before Luke could react, and Faith became the recipient of the retriever’s sloppy love.

Luke rounded the corner of the Bronco and stopped. Faith kneeled with her arms around his dog. The sight made him smile.

“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

“Brandy.”

“Luke, what’s going on?” A female voice brought all three heads around to face the house. Reva stood on the porch, her hands on her hips and her red lips pressed into a stiff line.

Irritation pulsed through Luke, but he shook off the feeling. It was only natural Reva would be curious, but her question seemed more accusatory than not. He glanced at Faith, who now stood with her hands clasped together and a polite smile plastered on her face.

He silently retrieved Faith’s bags and guided Faith toward the house. Brandy, he noted, stayed close to Faith.

“Who is this?” Reva asked, her eyes wide, as she looked Faith up and down.

“A guest,” he answered, wishing Reva wouldn’t act so territorially.

Brandy growled then let out a loud bark. Luke understood the dog’s urge to protect Faith. He felt the same protective instincts roaring to life in his veins.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” Vince Palmero demanded of the man on the phone.

Bob Grady cleared his throat. “Sorry, boss. We lost her trail in Portland, Oregon.”

Vince clenched his fist. “How incompetent can you be?”

“We’ll get her. I’ve got men combing the city and checking the trains, buses and airport.”

“Time is running out. Find her!”

Vince slammed down the receiver and pushed back his leather chair from the expansive mahogany desk. He tugged on the collar of his Italian handmade dress shirt feeling as choked with rage as if the Armani striped tie around his neck was being cinched tight. He couldn’t believe she’d done this to him. If he didn’t find her and bring her back soon, his whole life would go down the tubes.

He stared at the framed photo on his sidebar. A stunning smile and hazel eyes burned into his mind. He’d loved her, offered her everything and she’d betrayed him.

She’d pay. Oh, yes. When he found her, she’d pay.

Faith’s sweaty palm stuck to the banister. She wiped her hand on her pant leg as she followed Luke and Reva up the stairs to his mother’s room. Although the initial meeting with Reva went well—the woman had been pleasant enough—Faith could tell that Reva didn’t like having another woman in what she obviously considered her domain.

As they’d passed through the living room, Faith noted the lack of Christmas decorations. Maybe these people didn’t celebrate the birth of Jesus. Whether they did or not wasn’t relative to her safety.

Luke knocked on a door at the end of the hallway. Little butterflies fluttered in the pit of Faith’s stomach. If Luke’s mother didn’t like her, then what would she do? The ranch represented a security she’d only hoped of. She wanted to stay. Please, oh, please, dear Lord, let her like me.

At his mother’s muffled, “Come in,” Luke pushed open the door and stepped aside so Reva and Faith could enter. As Faith passed him, he gave her a reassuring smile and some of the butterflies in her stomach danced for an altogether different reason.

A blast of heat hit her in the face as she stepped into the room. The bedroom was at least ten degrees warmer than the rest of the house. Sweat beads broke out and trickled down Faith’s neck. The dark haired woman lying on the canopied oak bed looked wilted and weak beneath the heavy covers pulled up to her chin.

“Ugh, Reva, it’s hot in here,” Luke exclaimed. “I’ve told you a hundred times not to touch the thermostat.”

“But, Luke, honey, the doctor said she wasn’t to get a chill.”

In long strides, Luke moved to one window and yanked it open. Almost immediately a cooling breeze entered the room.

“Oh, that feels wonderful.” Mrs. Campbell sighed. “I kept asking her to turn down the heat, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

Luke paused in the act of pulling the quilt off his mother and looked at Reva. The color of his eyes had darkened to a steely blue and his jaw tightened in anger. Faith stepped back.

“I was only doing what I thought best. She’s still recovering from her ordeal,” Reva said defensively.

“The way she makes it sound, I’m still knocking on death’s door,” Luke’s mother muttered.

“It’s only been two weeks. You know—”

“Enough, Reva.”

Luke’s command abruptly stopped Reva mid-whine. She made a face and sat on the edge of a small desk by the window.

Faith marveled that at least one grown man was mature enough to contain his anger.

“Mom, I have someone here I’d like you to meet.” Luke’s voice softened.

The eager-to-please tone and the way his voice dropped a notch brought a pang to Faith’s heart. This big man loved his mother and it showed. She’d loved her parents like that. If only they were still alive.

He motioned for Faith to step closer.

“This is Faith. I’ve hired her to help care for you.”

Faith approached the bed. The gentle eyes regarding her made her think of her own mother. It had been years since anyone had looked at her with such kindness. She knew instantly she’d like the older woman.

Taking the offered hand, she noticed Mrs. Campbell’s skin felt hot and clammy against her palm. “Mrs. Campbell, Luke tells me you’re recovering from a heart attack. My grandfather suffered an attack and I cared for him. I—I hope you’ll allow me to care for you.”

“Please, call me Dottie. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

From behind her, Faith heard Reva snort in disbelief. She turned to stare at Reva. Such disrespect was reprehensible.

“Reva, please,” Luke warned.

Studying her nails, Reva said, “Luke, dear, the housekeeping still needs to be done. Or are you expecting her to do that, too?”

“No, I’m not expecting Faith to do the housekeeping.”

“Good.” Reva hopped off the edge of the desk and stood. “I’m sure Blake would be happy to know I’m helping out. I’ll just stay on and do the housekeeping.”

Faith glanced at Luke. His annoyance was evident in the creases along his brow. Turning his gaze to his mother, he raised a brow as if to ask what she thought. Dottie grimaced with a shrug.

Suddenly, Reva was standing close, pinning Faith against the bed. Trying to gracefully disengage herself from Dottie’s hand, Faith shifted to allow Reva more room. Dottie’s grip tightened and for a second Faith thought she saw a trace of apprehension in the older woman’s blue eyes. She guessed there was more going on between the two women than met the eye.

Though the danger was minimal, the familiar need to protect rose sharply. Patting Dottie’s hand reassuringly, Faith stood her ground, becoming a physical barrier between Dottie and Reva.

“Your dad promised me I’d have a place here, Luke. He did consider me a part of the family, especially after you took off.”

The muscles in Luke’s jaw visibly tightened. “My father and I came to an understanding long ago.” Glancing at his mother, he asked, “Mom? This is your house now.”

“If she wants to do the housekeeping, I suppose that’s fine,” Dottie muttered.

Luke gave a curt nod. “Fine. Just stick to the housekeeping, Reva.”

“Of course, dear.”

Faith noticed the small, triumphant gleam in Reva’s gray eyes. She decided she didn’t like the woman very much. She would have to be careful and keep her distance. Faith couldn’t trust that Reva wouldn’t look for an opportunity to get rid of her.

“Do you smell something burning?” Dottie struggled to sit up. Luke immediately reached to help her.

“Oh, my word! My casserole,” Reva exclaimed. “There’s something wrong with that oven,” she muttered as she headed for the door. “It’s forever burning things.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my oven,” Dottie groused at Reva’s retreating back. “I’ve never burned anything in it.”

“Of course not, mother.” Luke’s smile reflected in his eyes.

Dottie smiled back, and for a moment, the two silently communicated, their bond evident. Feeling like an intruder, Faith moved to the desk and ran a hand over the polished wood.

Deep inside, she felt a familiar emptiness. She would give anything to have someone love her the way Luke loved his mother. In her heart she longed for children, a family. But the possibility of having them was out of reach. She could be discovered at any time, and then what? A shudder racked her body.

Picking up the pitcher that sat on the desk, she poured a glass of water and carried it back to the bed. “Would you like some water, Dottie?”

“Thank you, dear.” Dottie smiled and took the glass. “Sit and tell me about you.”

Faith pulled up a chair. She couldn’t very well tell Dottie the truth. So she did what she normally did and changed the subject. “You have a very nice home, Dottie. I noticed several good antique pieces.”

Dottie’s face lit up. “You know antiques? How wonderful.”

A safe subject. Thank goodness. Faith smiled. “Yes, I do. You have good quality pieces.”

“Well, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ll go get some work done.” Luke kissed Dottie’s cheek.

“You go on, son. We’ll be just fine.” Dottie settled back with a grin.

To Faith, Luke said, “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs in the office. First door on your right at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” He ran a hand over his short hair and for a moment just stood there staring at her.

Faith raised a questioning brow.

“See you later.” He smiled before sauntering from the room.

“That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen from Luke since he’s come home.”

“Come home?” Faith asked, still staring at the spot where he’d disappeared through the door, feeling a little unsettled.

“Luke’s a captain in the army,” Dottie announced with obvious pride in her son.

“Right.” Faith smiled at Dottie.

Dottie continued, “He graduated top of his class at West Point. I’m very proud of my son. He followed his dreams.”

West Point. Impressive. “I’m…familiar with the school. My grandfather’s house sat on the opposite bank of the Hudson River. From the top-floor window we could see part of the academy. Had I been born a boy, my grandfather would have insisted I attend West Point rather than my mother’s alma mater, Cornell.”

“I’m sure your grandfather was very proud of you. Blake didn’t want Luke to go. It caused a rift in their relationship for years.”

“That’s too bad.” Faith hoped the rift had been mended before Blake’s death, but she thought it tactless to ask.

As if reading her unspoken thought, Dottie said, “Luckily they patched things up between them a few years ago. Blake was very proud of Luke, too.”

“Was Luke able to see his father before he passed on?” Faith asked gently.

“Yes, thankfully.” Her expression became troubled. “He wasn’t supposed to stay this long but…I had my attack and…well, Blake’s health had deteriorated over the last couple of years, so the ranch had been neglected for the most part.”

Dottie paused to take a deep breath. “The hands that stayed on have kept things going, but it was Blake who made sure the upkeep and repairs were taken care of. Dear Blake just couldn’t give up control. Not even when it became impossible for him to do more than sit and watch.”

Compassion filled Faith. From her own experience with caring for her grandfather she knew how hard it was to watch someone you love die. Especially when that person was as strong-willed as her grandfather had been, and as Blake must have been. Faith held the older woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, dear. I take comfort in knowing Blake’s with Jesus and someday we will be together again.”

Conviction shone bright in Dottie’s blue eyes, like beacons of light directing the way.

Faith blinked back sudden tears. She wished desperately that she could be as assured of her own place in heaven and to be reunited with her family. But why would God take her to live with Him when He’d shown no interest in her on earth?

Dottie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you feeling okay?”

Faith cleared her throat before speaking. “Yes. Fine, thank you.”

“You must forgive me if I tend to rattle on.”

Thinking it infinitely better for Dottie to talk, she said, “Oh, please. Rattle all you’d like.”

And she did. For Faith, the next couple of hours were a breath of fresh air. They discovered many common interests such as antiques, art, theater and cooking. And Faith was more than happy to exhaust all subjects except the topic of her own life. Soon Dottie was yawning and her eyelids drooping.

“Goodness, I don’t think I’ve had this much to talk about in years.” Dottie beamed as Faith helped her settle back into a reclined position.

“Nor have I.” Faith fluffed the pillows beneath Dottie’s head. “You need some rest now. I’ll come back later and we can pick up where we left off.”

Dottie’s eyes were already closed. Unsure what she should do now, Faith wandered over to a window and stood gazing out at the expanse of land that made up the Circle C Ranch. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find sanctuary in the home of a cowboy.

Could it be possible that God was watching out for her after all?

THREE

“Have you found her?”

Vince glared with loathing at his older brother, Anthony, slouched in the leather chair facing Vince’s desk. He looked awful. Like he hadn’t showered or shaved in weeks. His hair was too long and his clothes ratty. Vince struggled to understand how they’d come from the same gene pool. “Not yet. I can’t believe your stupidity.”

“How was I supposed to know she’d divorce you and take off? I mean, what did you do to her anyway?”

Vince curled his fingers into a fist. “Nothing.”

“Something,” Anthony shot back.

Ignoring the barb, Vince asked, “What did you tell Fernando?”

“What you told me to. He said he’d wait until New Year’s Day. If we don’t return the money, he’ll kill us.”

Vince spread his hand on the desk and leaned forward. “He can kill you with my blessing.”

Anthony’s dark eyes held malice. “Just remember what I did for you.”

Vince swore and moved to the window.

They’d been teens, running with the other punks in the neighborhood, dealing dope, stealing what they could just for something to do. One night they’d knocked off a liquor store, but before they could get away, a cop showed up and caught Anthony. He’d gone to jail and never ratted on his baby brother.

Anthony never let Vince forget that if he’d had a rap sheet, he wouldn’t have been admitted into law school.

But after twenty years, that card was wearing thin.

“I’ll find her and get your money.” Vince turned toward his brother. “And then we’re even.”

Anthony stood and walked to the door, his tennis shoes leaving smudged tracks in the cream-colored carpet. “Yeah, whatever you say.”

After he left, Vince picked up the picture of his wife. “I will find you. And you will never leave me again.”

Luke couldn’t concentrate.

Every time he tried to focus on the paperwork lying on the desk, his mind conjured up the image of a cat-eyed blonde. Once again his curious nature wanted to know what was going on with Faith Delange.

He shouldn’t be spending time thinking about Faith. There was still so much to do on the ranch. He’d lost two hands last week because they’d wanted to find a warmer place for the winter. His foreman, Leo Scruggs, was having a hard time finding replacements. The roof on the house and one of the barns needed fixing and a llama would be birthing soon.

Ever since he’d returned to the ranch, his life hadn’t been his own. Every day he found himself becoming more like his father. And the more he enjoyed being a rancher, the more scared he became.

This wasn’t the life he’d wanted. He’d wanted excitement and adventure. At eighteen, he’d taken his desires to the Lord and had been steered toward the military. Knowing he’d had God’s blessing, Luke had applied and been accepted at West Point. The years there were grueling, exciting and character building. He’d walked away with a degree in engineering. But the military still beckoned, even after his five-year service obligation.

Now, he held the rank of captain and his position of authority gave him more opportunity to make a difference in the lives of his men. From the beginning, he’d felt he’d been called to share his faith with his comrades, and now Luke was looked to as a source of comfort and hope.

He’d worked alongside the chaplain to form a Bible fellowship study, and he was constantly awed by the power of Jesus’s love working in the men’s lives. He didn’t want to give that up.

He wished his father were still here.

Luke hadn’t known about his father’s cancer until nearly the end.

Your father is ill, the note had read, come home.

He’d arrived just in time to see his father before he’d died. Guilt for not having been there ate away at him. If he’d only been a better son and kept in better touch. He’d have learned of the illness sooner and come home. He’d have been able to make his dad’s final days easier.

And now, Luke was running his father’s ranch and dragging his feet about leaving when all he really wanted was to get back to his own life, his unit stationed in the Middle East. He only had another twenty days of leave left.

He fired up the computer and looked up Faith on Google. A list of articles came up. Mostly charity events where Faith and her grandfather were present. One photo showed Faith in a gray business suit standing beside her grandfather who sat in a wheelchair. He was old and hunched with strong features. The caption read, “The Delanges to start a foundation for overseas missions through a local church.”

Philanthropy, faith, family and money. What was she running from?

A soft knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Faith stepped in. He clicked off the web page.

“I don’t mean to bother you. But…well, your mother’s asleep and I don’t know what I should be doing.”

Luke hadn’t the foggiest what she should be doing now, either.

She smiled uncertainly.

Luke stood and moved around the desk. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Faith followed him. “I think this place is wonderful. So warm and cozy.”

“My parents have lived here since they were married. I don’t think Mom has bought anything new since.”

Faith stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Her finger traced a carving in the banister.

“Did that when I was ten. Dad just about blew a gasket.” He laughed slightly. “I can still remember how he lit into me, saying, ‘If you want to carve your name into a piece of wood, there’s a whole stack of firewood out back that you can carve up after you split it all.’”

“He sounds like he was a good father.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was. Strict, but always fair. Even when we didn’t see eye to eye, I never questioned his love.”

But his father had questioned his son’s love. How many times had Luke turned his back on the advice and instruction his dad offered? Luke would give anything to have that time back, to show his dad how much he loved him.

“That’s wonderful,” she stated, wistfully.

“Did you question your parents’ love?” he asked.

Sadness entered her gaze. “My parents were killed when I was eleven.”

“That must have been tough. Who raised you?”

“My grandfather.”

“The one that had a heart attack?”

She nodded. “He passed on almost two years ago.”

“Have you been traveling since then?”

Her expression became guarded. Wary. “No.”

She moved away from him to stand beside her suitcases where he’d left them in the entryway.

As she bent to pick them up, he said, “Here. Allow me.”

Taking her bags in hand, he led her upstairs, entered the sewing room and breathed in the scent of gardenias, his mother’s favorites, perfuming the air. A dried bouquet of the white blossoms sat atop the dresser. He made a mental note to order fresh ones.

“This is lovely.” Faith walked in and surveyed the room. She gently brushed a hand along the black sewing machine resting on an old wooden table. “Your mother’s, I assume.”

“Yes, Mom loves to sew. She’s made most of her own clothes for years.” Luke could remember wanting her to go shopping like other mothers, but Dottie had always been a frugal woman who insisted her own creations were as good as those found in some over-priced dress shop.

“I like your mother. She’s nice.”

“Thanks. She likes you, too.” Luke was thankful for that. It would make leaving that much easier.

Walking to the closet door, he put his hand on the knob. “Here’s a closet. It’s yours to use and you can clear out the drawers in the dresser.”

“Thank you. You’ve been so kind.”

He acknowledged her gratefulness with a nod. “My room’s next door and the bath is across the hall.”

Faith blinked and asked, “Where does Reva sleep?”

“She has her own house to go to.” Thankfully.

“Besides caring for your mother, is there anything else I can do?”

“You can relax.” He thought back to her strange behavior on the way to the ranch and his observation that she didn’t want to be seen. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re running from?”

Her eyes got big. “I’m…I don’t know what you mean?”

“Faith, it was obvious you didn’t want anyone to see you leave with me. Why?”

She looked at her hands. They were shaking. He took them in his, noticing how slender and vulnerable she felt. “Tell me this. Are you in trouble with the law?”

She lifted her head. “No.”

He could see the truth in her gaze. “Okay. I’ll stop pushing for now. But, Faith, if you need to talk, I’m here. You can trust me.”

Faith nodded, her expression unreadable. “I’ll go check on Dottie.”

The second she left the room, Luke dropped his head on the doorjamb. Great. Now he was offering to be there for her when he knew he would be leaving soon. He shouldn’t let himself get tangled up with her. As along as she posed no threat to his mother. He wasn’t going to get involved.

He just had to stay strong, remember his goals, and not let himself get diverted from his path. Pushing away from the door, he headed out to visit the llamas and to let God know just how much he needed His strength.

After making sure Dottie was comfortably settled for the night, Faith went back to her room. She sat on the bed, elbows propped on her knees and her chin resting in her palm. The afternoon had flown by as she and Dottie talked. There hadn’t been any sign of Luke, not until dinnertime. He’d come upstairs carrying two plates heaping with a delicious-smelling rice-and-chicken casserole, which she assumed Reva had cooked.

When Dottie had asked why he wasn’t eating with them, Faith noticed he’d glanced at her before saying he was going to eat in his office while finishing up some work. She’d been able to eat very little of the meal.

Had she made him rethink hiring her? She hadn’t meant to be so obvious in the car. But the fewer people who knew where she was the longer she’d be safe. And the longer she’d be able to stay.

She finished unpacking and was about to crawl into bed when she heard the creak of floorboards outside her door.

Old fears surged, her muscles tensed. Was someone coming for her? Would someone bust through the door?

No! She was safe. It was only Luke going to his room.

Ugh! She couldn’t jump at every sound. She’d drive herself nuts for sure doing that.

When the house finally grew quiet and still, she turned off the light. As tired as she was, it would be a long while before she could banish the awareness of the cowboy down the hall.

Early morning sun streamed through the barn windows, casting long, bright rays over the horses and the stacks of hay. The smell of the animals mingled with the hay.

Luke rested his hands on the pitchfork. Every morning he came out to the barn and fed the horses. He could assign the job to one of the hands, but the chore had been his when he was younger and somehow the task helped to relieve his grief over his father’s passing. Hard physical labor helped get him through the worst of the pain.

When he’d first arrived, his father had barely been alive. If only he’d come home earlier, Luke thought for the millionth time as he pitched hay into the first stall. Those last few hours together hadn’t been enough time to say all the things Luke had wanted to say. He hadn’t told his father how much he admired him or how grateful he was to have had him as a father. Luke would always regret the years apart. The years of silence.

Once the funeral was over, Luke had harnessed his energies to the ranch. Luke started the re-fence on the entire acreage, started repairs on the barn and the corral. Chores that should have been taken care of long ago.

His next project, he decided, would be the main house. It needed a new roof and the porch could stand some work. Staring at the structure through the double doors of the barn, he pictured a swing on the front porch. His mother would like that. Luke shook his head in wry amusement. He shouldn’t be looking for more reasons to stay.

His unit needed him.

It was past time for him to wrap things up on the ranch so he could leave right after Christmas. He could hire out the work that needed to be done. And for sure hire some more hands to replace the two that had left. His foreman needed a vacation, as well.

The burden of responsibility made Luke’s shoulders ache.

At least he’d done something right by hiring Faith. For the past three days she’d been a constant companion to his mother. When he left he would be assured that his mom would be in good hands.

He picked up more hay with the pitchfork just as Faith stepped out onto the porch into the sunshine. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the view, noticing the way winter sunlight danced off her golden hair, reminding him of Christmas lights. Bright and shining. Beautiful.

Her light wool coat, buttoned to the top, looked warm, but wouldn’t hold up once it snowed again. She wrapped slender hands around a steaming mug and walked to the porch railing. Leaning her hips against the wood, she stared out at the scenery and sipped from the cup.

Luke knew what she was seeing; he’d stood in the exact spot too many times to count. From that vantage point, one could view the cattle grazing and the Three Sisters Mountains—Faith, Hope and Charity—rising majestically in the distance.

Studying Faith’s profile, he wondered, what’s your story? A part of him wanted to delve deep and find out what she was hiding from. But he’d already decided he wasn’t going to get any more deeply involved.

Faith turned her head toward the barn and Luke knew the exact moment she saw him. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and her generous mouth curved upward into a stunning smile. His pulse quickened. For a heartbeat, Luke almost convinced himself she was glad to see him.

Feeling like a schoolboy caught staring at his teacher, he raised his hand in greeting, and sucked in his breath when she sat the mug down and pushed away from the railing. Mesmerized, he watched her walk across the porch and down the stairs, every movement flowing from her with graceful ease.

From around the corner of the house Brandy bounded up to Faith, who bent to nuzzle the dog’s neck. A ridiculous sense of jealousy tore through Luke. He rolled his eyes. You can’t be jealous of your dog. But he would’ve given anything to be on the receiving end of Faith’s affection.

Faith and Brandy came forward and stopped steps from where he stood.

Luke tipped his hat. “Morning.” Up close, she was even more attractive.

“Good morning, Luke.”

He tore his gaze away from hers with effort and stared down at Brandy. “Seems you found yourself a friend.”

Her hand stroked behind the dog’s ears. “Yes, I have.”

“It’s good to have friends,” Luke remarked, once again plagued by questions about this woman.

“Uh-huh.”

The noncommittal answer made him frown. “Did you leave many friends behind?” he asked.

Visibly tensing at his words, she clasped her hands together, the knuckles turning white. “Some.” The single word echoed in the barn.

“It’s hard leaving behind the people you love.” He said it more as a statement than a question, knowing firsthand how hard it was to walk away from the important people in his own life. And how difficult it would be to do again.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, her expression wary.

“I’m a good listener.” What was he doing? He’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this.

She gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. Actually, I was hoping you’d help me get your mother downstairs when you have a chance. She’s been walking around upstairs but she’ll need help negotiating a flight of stairs. The first time we try, I feel you should be present.”

“Sure. When I finish here I’ll be right up.”

“Great. Dottie will be so pleas—” She stopped and cocked her head to one side.

The crunch of gravel sounded on the drive. But from where they stood they couldn’t see the vehicle.

“Are—are you expecting someone?” Faith’s voice changed.

Luke heard and saw the fear sweeping over her. “No, but people—friends—stop by all the time.”

The vehicle on the drive stopped and the sound of a door opening and closing echoed in the chilly air.

In one swift, graceful motion, Faith darted to a darkened corner of the barn where she pressed her back against the wall, her hands fisted at her sides.

“Faith, you’re safe here—” Luke was silenced by the finger she put to her lips and the look of terror on her face.

“Okay, God, please cover me,” Luke mumbled and moved closer, positioning himself between Faith and the door. A brief look of comprehension passed across her features before they heard the heavy footfalls coming toward the barn. Each step drew the unknown closer.

Luke tensed in response to Faith’s palpable apprehension. But how could he protect her when he didn’t know what she was afraid of?

A small, panic-born whimper escaped her as a man stepped into view.

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