With his star pinned to his shirt and his gunned clipped to his belt, he looked every inch the tough Texas Ranger…except for the infectious smile

Skye walked straight into Sam’s arms, and before she knew it, she was dancing as she’d never danced before, feet flying and laughter bubbling from her like an artesian well. One dance led to another and another. She could have danced all night.

Suddenly a woman screamed and a fight broke out at the bar.

Skye froze. Panic hit her like a lightning bolt as the place erupted into pandemonium.

She had to get out!

Dear Reader,

For those of you who have been following the Outlaw family books, this is the last of the four brothers and a sister, all named for famous outlaws, following a tradition established by their grandfather. Sam Bass Outlaw’s story, The Texas Ranger, like Belle’s story, The Rebel, is set mostly in Wimberley, Texas, a real small town in central Texas known for its guest ranches, artisans and picturesque surroundings.

When I lived in Houston, a talented artist friend used to wax poetic about spending weekends in their river cabin in Wimberley, and other friends used to rave about the charming village, but I’d never been there until we moved to Austin. Cypress Creek and the Blanco River are the stuff of picture postcards, and when the wildflowers bloom it’s breathtaking.

Since a big hunk of my heart remains in East Texas with its tall pine trees and the rest of the Outlaw family, we’ll revisit Naconiche and the magic of The Twilight Inn Motel as well as meet the newest members of the clan.

In this book, I’ve also returned to my roots in psychology and hypnosis to deal with some special issues that haunt a heroine I’ve come to adore, Skye Walker. And I’ve always been a sucker for tall, dark, handsome Texas Rangers.

Enjoy!

Jan Hudson

The Texas Ranger

Jan Hudson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jan Hudson, a former college psychology teacher, is a RITA® Award-winning author of thirty books, a crackerjack hypnotist, a dream expert, a blue-ribbon flower arranger and a fairly decent bridge player. Her most memorable experience was riding a camel to visit the Sphinx and climbing the Great Pyramid in Egypt. A native Texan whose ancestors settled in Nacogdoches when Texas was a republic, she loves to write about the variety of colorful characters who populate the Lone Star State, unique individuals who celebrate life with a “howdy” and “y’all come.” Jan and her husband currently reside in Austin, and she loves to hear from readers. E-mail her at JanHudsonBooks@gmail.com.

Books by Jan Hudson

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

1017—THE SHERIFF *

1021—THE JUDGE *

1025—THE COP *

1135—THE REBEL *

SILHOUETTE DESIRE

1035—IN ROARED FLINT

1071—ONE TICKET TO TEXAS

1229—PLAIN JANE’S TEXAN

1425—WILD ABOUT A TEXAN

1432—HER TEXAN TYCOON

For the heroic Texas Rangers, past, present and future.

And for the eight great in Travis Country.

Thanks y’all.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Chapter One

When he spotted the blonde across the room, Sam felt as if he’d been hit upside the head with a tire iron. For a minute all he could do was stare at her. And she stared back. He wasn’t sure what was going on between them, but he aimed to find out. She was a beauty.

Sam made a beeline through the crowd toward her. The closer he got, the more sure he was that he might have to arrest her. He figured she must have stolen those eyes from heaven. They were big and blue and reeled him in as pretty as if he were a black bass on a twelve-pound line.

“Hello,” he said to her, flashing his best smile. “I’m Sam Outlaw, Belle’s brother.” He figured that the blonde knew Belle since this shindig was given in honor of her buying and becoming publisher of the Wimberley Star newspaper.

She smiled back. “I’m Skye Walker, Gabe’s sister.”

“Gabe’s sister?” Gabe Burrell was an old friend of Sam’s, the host of the party and the guy who was hot for his sister, Belle. “If I’d known that Gabe’s little sister looked like you, I’d have been beating down your door. Wonder why he never told me?”

She laughed, a soft chuckle that was both sweet and sensuous. “He told me about you. And so did Belle. You’re the youngest of the Outlaw brothers and a Texas Ranger.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me. How about a dance?” It was the best way he could think of to get her into his arms.

Skye’s eyebrows lifted as she glanced around the room. “There’s no music and no dance floor.”

“Darlin’, I’m not one to let a little thing like that stop me. There’s an empty spot behind the buffet table, and I’ll hum.” He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him.

A big German shepherd who’d been lying beside her suddenly rose, hackles up. His teeth were bared and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

“Take your hands off me,” Skye said.

“Honey, I’m harmless. Honest.”

The dog growled again.

Sam dropped his hands.

“Sit, Gus.”

The dog sat. But he didn’t take his eyes off Sam.

“He yours?” Sam asked.

She nodded. “He’s very protective. Excuse his manners. Gus, Sam is a friend.”

No stranger to animals, Sam tentatively held out the back of his hand for the dog to sniff. Gus didn’t seem interested in getting acquainted. He merely eyed him suspiciously, as if waiting for a reason to take a plug out of his butt.

“May I get you a drink?” he asked.

She held up her wineglass. It was full.

“Okay. How about you get me one?”

Skye looked amused. “What would you like?”

“Anything you want to give me.”

She caught the eye of a kid with a tray and motioned for him. She plucked a glass from the tray and handed it to Sam. “Champagne. In honor of Belle’s new position. Cheers.” She clinked her flute against his.

Sam sipped. “Mmm. The good stuff. Have you raided the food yet? I just got here, and I’m starved.”

“Can’t have that. Let’s find something to take the edge off.” She walked to the spread on the table. He and Gus followed. She handed him a plate and took one for herself.

“Skye, dear, who is this darling man? I swear he’s as tall as the door. And just as solid I suspect.” The middle-aged woman dressed in purple sparkles flashed a big smile up at him and held out her hand. “I’m Flora Walker, Skye and Gabe’s mother. I’m guessing that you must be Sam. I must have missed you when you came in.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sam Outlaw. I just got here.”

“You look a lot like your daddy,” Flora said. “And your brother Cole.”

“Yes, ma’am. All the Outlaws look pretty much alike. Mama says we’re like peas in a pod.” He grinned. “Except for a few things. Cole’s the oldest. Frank’s the prettiest.”

Flora laughed. “And you’re full of the devil.”

“No, ma’am. That’s J.J. I’m the sweetest.” He winked.

Flora cocked her head this way and that, studying him for a moment, then she reached up and patted his cheek. “You are sweet, dear boy, but you’ve got a streak of the devil in you, too. I like you, Sam Outlaw. You must let me paint you sometime. Look after Skye. I don’t doubt that you can. I’m going to circulate.” She fluttered her fingers and waltzed off to a group nearby.

Feeling as if a whirlwind had just picked him up and set him down, Sam watched Flora go. “Fascinating woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Skye said. “Salmon?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Would you like some salmon?” She’d shoveled some up on a serving spoon.

“Sure.” She put some on his plate.

“Aren’t you having any?”

She shook her head. “I’m a vegetarian.”

“Really? You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met a vegetarian before.”

She smiled. “I can’t believe that. They may be scarce in Naconiche, but Austin is full of vegetarians.”

“Guess we don’t eat at the same places. I’m big on barbecue, Tex-Mex and hamburgers. And I don’t live in Austin anymore.”

“Oh, that’s right. Belle said that you’ve been transferred to San Antonio. Do you like it there?” She piled his plate with roast beef and hers with some pasta salad.

“Haven’t seen enough of it yet to tell.”

When their plates were full, they found a quiet table in a corner and sat down. Gus tagged along. He didn’t look any friendlier.

Trying to make points with the dog, Sam broke off a piece of roast beef and held it out to Gus. He ignored it.

“Is he a vegetarian, too?”

Skye laughed. “No. But he’s been trained not to accept food from people.”

Sam shrugged. “If our shepherd had been trained like that, I’d have been in a mess growing up. I hated liver, and I always sneaked mine under the table to him.”

“I think Belle did, too. He must have been very full on liver day.”

“J.J. fed his to the cat. I think Cole and Frank had to eat theirs.”

She laughed. “Growing up in a big family must have been fun.”

“It had its moments. Do I remember Gabe telling me that you’re a veterinarian?”

“I am. I’ve been in practice for several years.”

“Somehow I can’t picture you walking around a cow lot in rubber boots.”

“I treat cows sometimes, and I’ve delivered many a calf, but mostly I see small animals in my practice. Cats, dogs, birds. Pets. Do you have a pet?”

“Not since Bounder died a couple of years ago. He was my bird dog. But I could get one. What would you suggest?”

She cocked her head at him the same way her mother had. “Hmm. A toy poodle maybe.”

He must have looked horrified because she burst out laughing.

“Bite your tongue, woman. Do I look like the poodle type?”

“Poodles are very smart and very lovable. And quite fearless.”

He grinned. “That’s me. Smart, lovable and fearless.”

“Is that part of the Texas Ranger code?”

“Maybe the smart and fearless. But I don’t know of a single Ranger who has a poodle. Wait. I take that back. I think Carson’s wife has a poodle. Or is it a Pekinese?”

“The breeds aren’t very similar.”

“Except that they’re both little yappers. Want some more champagne?”

“Thanks, no.” Skye glanced toward the door. “Are those your other brothers?”

“Where?” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll be. They’re here. I thought J.J. and Frank weren’t coming because their wives are expecting.” He stood. “Come on and meet them.”

She hesitated. “Go ahead. I’ll meet them later.”

“Don’t you run off now, darlin’. I’ll be right back.”

Skye watched him as he strode across the room and slapped backs with his brothers. They did look very much alike. They were all tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired and quite good-looking. Sam was a charmer, just as Belle had said. And he seemed to have a well-defined sense of himself. He certainly didn’t suffer from low self-esteem. Maybe that came from being a Texas Ranger. She’d bet that he didn’t lack for female companionship. He surely made her heart skip a beat.

He caught her watching him and winked.

Heat crept up her throat, and she glanced away.

“You okay, Dr. Walker?” Pete asked.

Skye glanced up at Pete, one of four security guards working the party. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

He nodded and stepped back to his post, his eyes scanning the crowd.

In a moment, Sam was back. “You look like an orphan sitting there by yourself. Come on and join the party.” He pulled her to her feet.

Gus growled again.

“Gus, hush!”

Sam eyed the dog. “Listen, fella, you and I are going to have to have a serious talk.”

Gus didn’t relent. Skye squatted down and ruffled his scruff. “Gus,” she whispered, “you’re embarrassing me. Behave yourself. Sam is a good guy. He won’t hurt me.”

Gus licked her chin.

As she rose, Sam put his hand to her elbow to help her up. “Come meet J.J. and Frank. Did you know that Gabe sent a private jet after them? Their wives hated to miss the party but figured that they could do without the guys for a few hours. Cole’s wife Kelly is their doctor, so they’re in good hands in case one of them goes into labor.”

Sam guided her to where his brothers were talking with Gabe and Belle. Gus pushed his way between them and walked along, too.

Flora had taken Nonie and Wes Outlaw, Sam’s parents, under her wing and was escorting them around the room, chatting with this small group and that. Skye wished she was as socially adept as her mother. Even though she knew almost everyone in the room, she was still uncomfortable in the crowd, feeling not only awkward but a little panicky as well.

Gus bumped against her trying to move her apart from Sam, but for some reason she clung to his arm, feeling safer when she could touch him. Odd for her. She was usually wary of strangers.

Skye had already met Cole, the oldest outlaw brother and a former cop who was now taught criminal justice. He’d driven his parents to Wimberley, and they were staying with her family for the weekend. Sam introduced her to his brother Frank, a judge, and to J.J., a sheriff.

“Leave it to you, baby brother, to latch on to the prettiest woman in the room,” J.J. said.

“Gee, thanks,” Belle said, punching J.J. on the arm.

“Sorry, Madam Publisher, but sisters don’t count. Did I hear there was some grub here?”

Frank smiled at Skye. “And leave it to J.J. to find the food. Pardon his manners.”

“Skye,” Gabe said, “would you show J.J. and Frank to the buffet? I see a new batch of folks arriving. Looks like the mayor.”

Frank and J.J. each offered Skye an arm, and they headed to the food with Gus and Sam trailing behind. The dog was careful to stay between Sam and Skye.

What was it with that dog? Sam wondered. Gus didn’t seem at all disturbed by Frank and J.J. being around Skye, just him. Sam was a little pissed about it. Dogs and babies always liked him.

Between his family and the rest of the people at the country club party, he didn’t get any more time alone with Skye. A couple of elderly ladies, twins from the look of them, cornered him and grilled him for half an hour about the Outlaw family and about being a Texas Ranger. He really didn’t mind. Lots of folks were fascinated with both the story of his family’s names and occupations as well as everything about the legendary Rangers, but he’d rather have been spending his time with Skye.

“Well,” Sam said, “My granddaddy was Judge John Wesley Hardin Outlaw, and he figured it was a political asset to be named for a famous outlaw. He named his boys John Wesley Outlaw, Jr. and Butch Cassidy Outlaw and encouraged them to go into public service. My daddy, who’s known as Wes, was sheriff of Naconiche County for years, and Uncle Butch was in the Texas legislature. My daddy just followed the custom in naming his kids.”

“And your uncle?”

Sam shook his head. “Died a bachelor.”

“We know that Belle is Belle Starr Outlaw and that she was in the FBI,” one sister said.

“Yes, ma’am. She’s the one who finally bucked tradition when she left the bureau. My brother Cole used to be a homicide detective in Houston, but he teaches criminal justice in college now.”

“Cole. That’s for…?”

“Cole Younger Outlaw. J.J. is Jesse James Outlaw and he’s a sheriff. Frank James Outlaw is a judge, and I’m Sam Bass Outlaw, Texas Ranger.”

“How every interesting,” one of the ladies said.

“Is it true,” the other one asked, “that there are only a hundred Rangers in the entire state?”

“Used to be,” Sam told her, “but we’ve added a few more. There are a hundred and sixteen of us now.”

“I don’t see your badge,” the other one said.

He pulled back his suit coat to show them the distinctive silver star on his shirt.

The first one leaned closer for a look. “Marvelous. Alma, look what it says.”

Alma leaned closer, too. Two old ladies reading his chest wasn’t Sam’s idea of a good time, but his mama had trained him to be polite. He waited until they’d studied his badge before he let his coat fall back into place.

“Oh, there you are, Sam,” Flora said, sweeping into their threesome. “Ladies, will you excuse me if I borrow Sam for a minute? There’s someone I want him to meet.” Without waiting for a reply, she whisked him away as pretty as you please.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Flora tittered. “You looked in pain. Alma and Thelma Culbertson mean well, but they can be a trial sometimes. They adore Belle. She met them in her pottery class.”

Flora led him to a corner where Skye was talking to a sharp-looking dude in an expensive suit. Sam didn’t like the way the dude was standing so close to Skye or the way he was looking at her. He noticed that Gus didn’t seem to care.

“John,” Flora said to the guy, “I’d like for you to meet Sam Outlaw, one of Belle’s brothers. Sam, John Oates is the mayor of Wimberley.”

The two men shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries.

Flora took John’s arm, and said, “I don’t think you’ve met Belle’s other brothers, John. Come along and let me introduce you.” She waltzed him away before he had time to protest, leaving Skye and Sam alone.

“Hi, again,” Sam said.

“Hi, again, yourself.”

“Did your mother just engineer that?”

Skye smiled. “She did. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not a bit. I was trying to figure out a way to escape the twins and make it back to you. Sure you don’t want to dance?”

She laughed again, and the sound of it reminded him of the wind moving through a stand of pines on a spring day.

“Who’s John Oates?”

“He’s the mayor.”

“I mean besides that.”

“He’s a building contractor.”

“Is he married?”

Skye shook her head. “Divorced. We went to school together. I’ve known him most of my life. I treat his dog Commander.”

“Will you treat my dog?”

“I thought you didn’t have a dog.”

“I’m going to get one.”

Chapter Two

“You sure do seem to be humming a lot these days,” Suki, the housekeeper, said as she placed Skye’s breakfast on the table.

“Must be the lovely weather.”

“Humph. I’d bet my last dime it has more to do with a tall drink of water named Sam Outlaw,” Suki said.

Gabe lowered his newspaper. “Something going on that I don’t know about?”

“Lots of things going on around here that you don’t know about,” Suki replied. “You spend more time at Belle’s place than you do in your own house. You ought to marry that gal if you ask me.”

Skye smiled as Suki stomped from the kitchen. Suki and her husband Ralph had worked for Gabe for years, Suki as housekeeper and Ralph as overseer of the compound, and were more like part of the family than employees. Ralph was a big, easygoing man, but Suki was a tiny thing with flashing black eyes who didn’t hesitate to speak her mind about everything. Skye adored them both.

“Yeah,” Skye said, “when are you and Belle going to get married?”

“As soon as she says the word.”

“And what word is that?”

“Yes.” Gabe folded his newspaper. “Don’t change the subject, baby sister. What’s going on with Sam?”

“Nothing’s going on with Sam. I’ve only seen the man once in my life. At the party.” She dug into her cereal. “He seems nice. I liked all of Belle’s family.”

“So did I. And don’t get me wrong, Sam’s a great guy, but I don’t think he’s your type.”

A sudden flash of anger jerked her head up. “Really? And exactly what is my type?”

“Whoa. I didn’t mean to insult you, honey. I just meant that he seems a little rowdier than someone I’d pick for you.”

“Define rowdy.”

The doorbell rang, and Gabe seemed decidedly relieved. “That must be Napoleon.”

“Suki will let him in. Define rowdy.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly mean rowdy. Maybe high-spirited would be a better term. He’s a rough, tough kind of guy in a rough, tough occupation.”

“And you don’t think I would appeal to a man like that?”

“Skye, I think you’re a lovely woman who would appeal to any man. It’s just that you haven’t shown any interest in anyone since…well, in a long time.”

“It’s Carlotta ringing the bell,” Suki shouted. “And looks like Napoleon is coming up the drive.”

Skye sighed and rose. “I guess you’re right, Gabe. Let me go tend to Carlotta.” She grabbed a banana, then she and Gus headed for the door.

Carlotta was her banana-loving pal, a llama that nobody wanted any longer and had ended up in their pasture. In a moment of mischief, Skye had taught the smart creature to ring the doorbell. It ceased to be amusing after she started escaping from the pasture frequently and trying to get into the house.

“I thought you said Carlotta was going to quit getting out and pulling them shenanigans when you got those sheep for her to tend,” Suki said.

“You’ll have to admit she’s better nowadays. This is the first time she’s rung the bell in a long time. Napoleon and I will put her back in the pasture.”

She stepped out on the porch and patted Carlotta as the llama nuzzled close to Skye and sniffed the banana.

“She get out again?” Napoleon asked.

Napoleon Jones, an ex-tackle from Texas State and a hulking brute of a guy, climbed the steps to the porch. Not only was Napoleon her bodyguard, but he was also her assistant at the clinic. Even as fierce-looking as he was, animals adored him, and he was loving and gentle with every fury and feathered creature she treated. He picked her up every morning, drove her the quarter of a mile to the clinic, and stayed by her side until he dropped her off after seeing the last patient in the evening. He’d been with her since before she opened her practice, and she’d be lost without him.

Carlotta’s soft lips nibbled the piece of banana that Skye held out to her, and she and Napoleon easily got her back into the pasture with the two sheep. Skye had gotten the sheep for Carlotta to tend and keep her from being lonely. It had worked until today, and the arrangement would continue to work as long as Skye remembered to give her a bit of attention now and then. And a banana.

As Napoleon drove her over to the clinic in the Jeep, Skye thought about what Gabe had said. Sam might have made her as giddy as a teenager with her first crush, but she couldn’t imagine him fitting in with her lifestyle. Sometimes she got so angry and disgusted with herself that she wanted to scream. Maybe she should consider therapy again.

SAM WAS STANDING AT THE SINK shaving when he heard the siren outside his townhouse. He dropped his razor and grabbed his gun as he hurried to the door.

An ambulance had stopped at his elderly neighbor’s home. Two EMTs raced for the house while her maid stood on the porch calling, “Hurry! Hurry!”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“It’s Mrs. Book. I think she’s had a stroke.” The woman was bug-eyed and wringing her hands.

A small hunk of fur came racing out of Mrs. Book’s place, shot between Sam’s legs and zipped inside his house.

“Oh, that dog! She’ll be the death of me!”

“What can I do to help?”

“Lord, I don’t know. They’ll be taking Mrs. Book to the hospital, and I need to go along with her. Can you see to Pookie?”

“Sure,” Sam said.

In a couple of minutes, the EMTs wheeled out his neighbor, loaded her in the ambulance and took off, siren screaming. The maid slapped a key in Sam’s hand, ran to her car and peeled out behind them.

Sam checked to make sure his neighbor’s door was locked, then went back inside to finish shaving the other half of his face. Slapping on some aftershave, he walked around calling the dog.

Why in the hell would anybody name a dog Pookie?

He was sorry about Mrs. Book’s stroke—if that was the problem. Since he hadn’t lived there long, he didn’t know any of his neighbors very well, mostly just enough to nod to them. He’d met Mrs. Book when she’d pecked on her window one day as he’d walked by. She’d needed a light bulb changed and wondered if he’d mind doing it. She’d seen his Ranger badge and gun and figured he was safe. Since then he’d done another small favor or two for her, and she’d baked him cookies. Good ones, too. Chocolate chip with pecans.

She didn’t have much family except a nephew who never came around. Pookie was her constant companion. The dog was cute, spoiled rotten, and the little rag mop had taken to Sam. Every time he grilled on the patio, she managed to crawl through a little hole in the fence between their places and dance around his feet until he gave her a bite of whatever he was cooking. She was partial to rib eyes.

“Pookie! Where are you?”

Sam heard a faint whimper under his bed and got down to check. He found the dog there, cowed down and shaking like a leaf. “Come on out, girl.” He scooped her from her hiding place, held her in the crook of his arm and stroked her. “It’s all right, darlin’. I know you’re scared. Just calm down.”

He could almost hear the dog sigh as she relaxed, and she rooted closer to him.

In a few minutes, Sam set her on his bed. “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He went next door and gathered up Pookie’s stuff, including food and bowls, her toys and bed. He even found a small carrying crate and lugged it back to his house as well. He figured he could handle one small dog for a day or two. At least she liked him. Most animals did. Except for Gus.

Thinking about Gus reminded him of Skye. Then, of course, lots of things reminded him of Skye. She’d been in his thoughts a good deal.

He glanced at his watch. Damn! He was going to be late. He finished dressing and turned to look for Pookie. He couldn’t find her anywhere.

Oh, well, she’d come out sooner or later.

He left out plenty of food and water in the kitchen and left her bed and toys in his bedroom. She’d be fine until he returned.

SAM WAS LATER GETTING HOME than he figured on. And later than Pookie had figured on as well, from what he found on the floor. Honestly, he’d forgotten about the dog, so he didn’t scold her. Instead, he let her out the back door and cleaned up the mess without too many cuss words. He’d try to remember to come by home a couple of times during the day tomorrow to let her out.

When he checked on her a few minutes later, the patio area was empty. As he went outside to search for her, he heard whining and scratching. He climbed up and looked over the fence and saw Pookie crying and clawing on Mrs. Book’s back door.

He felt sorry for the little thing and went and got her.

“How about you and me going to get a hamburger?” he asked her. “I’m hungry.”

She seemed happy enough when she stood in his lap and looked out the window as they went to the fast food place a few blocks away. She hadn’t touched the dry food he’d left in her bowl, but she downed a good portion of his second hamburger—except the pickles and onions.

Pookie even whined her way into his bed that night. He could understand that she was confused and probably slept with Mrs. Book.

The next day he called the hospital to check on his neighbor, but the one he’d assumed she’d been sent to didn’t have any record of a Mrs. Book. He tried a couple of others with the same result. He couldn’t contact the maid; he didn’t even know her name. Nor did he know the name of her nephew. Sonny, she’d called him.

Sam was even more concerned when he came home at noon the next day to let Pookie out and saw a van in front of Mrs. Book’s house with the name of an auction house on its doors. He walked over and spoke to a man who was there, hoping it might be Sonny.

“I’m doing an inventory for the estate sale,” the man said.

“What estate sale?” Sam asked.

“Woman who lived here died. Her nephew said to auction off everything.”

That was fast. Disgusted with Mrs. Book’s family, he managed to get the nephew’s name and phone number. When Sam called Sonny to find out what to do with Pookie, the man said, “I don’t give a damn what happens to that dog. Send it to the pound if you don’t want it.”

Sam slammed down the phone and looked at Pookie, who sat watching him, her head cocked to one side, an imploring look in her eyes.

Hell, he couldn’t have anymore sent her to the pound than he could have sent his own mother.

He called Skye Walker’s clinic in Wimberley and made an appointment for Saturday, then he went to the building supply store and bought the stuff to make a doggy door.

WHEN SAM GOT TO WIMBERLEY and stopped at the gate, he wasn’t sure he had the right place. Why in the world was there a manned guardhouse? He first thought it might be the entrance to a park or something.

Sam rolled down his window. “I’m looking for the veterinary clinic.”

“And your name is?”

“Sam Outlaw. I have an appointment.”

The man checked a list. “Yes, sir. I have you here. Go straight down the road and take a right at the Y. You’ll run into the clinic.” He punched a button and the metal barrier opened.

Must be an upscale place, Sam thought as he drove through. He’d heard of gated communities, but he’d never been to a gated vet’s office. He parked in the lot in front of a white Austin stone building with a red tile roof, retrieved Pookie and attached a leash to her collar. When he got to the front door, he was even more mystified. The door was locked. What the devil? Had they closed already?

He rang the doorbell, then knocked.

He waited. And waited. The door opened a crack. “Mr. Outlaw?” a woman asked.

He started to say, “Joe sent me,” but, instead of smarting off, he answered with a simple, “That’s me.”

The door opened wider. “Please come in and have a seat. Dr. Walker will be with you in a moment.”

Pookie balked at the threshold, and Sam had to pick her up and carry her inside. She was shaking again.

“It’s okay, girl,” he said, stroking her. “Dr. Skye’s one of the good guys. She won’t hurt you.” How was it that animals always knew when they were going to the vet? He’d had to drag Pookie from under the bed this morning when he was ready to leave.

He heard voices at an interior door, then it opened and the mayor walked out with his Doberman. Wouldn’t you know? The dude glanced at Pookie and smiled. “Cute dog.”

“My neighbor’s.”

“I see,” the mayor said. “Sam, isn’t it?” He held out his hand.

“Yes.” Sam stood and shook hands with him.

A guy roughly the size of a tank followed the mayor out of the interior. He checked the peephole in the front door, then flipped a switch on the wall, unlocked and opened the door for the mayor.

“Good to see you again,” the mayor said.

John? Jim? Sam couldn’t remember. He only remembered that he didn’t much care for his toothy smile.

As soon as the lock clicked into place and the switch was flipped back up, the tank turned to Sam. “I’m Napoleon, Dr. Walker’s assistant. Come with me, please.”

Sam didn’t argue. He was meaner looking than any man he’d ever seen on death row, and, although Sam didn’t often meet anyone who made him nervous, the tank put him on guard. This guy didn’t look like he’d go down unless you shot him—a bunch of times.

He was led into a room where Skye waited. Gus lay quietly in a corner. Gus raised his head and glared at Sam—or did something that passed for a dog-glare. His lips twitched back over his teeth.

Dressed in a blue smock, Skye stood by a tall examining table, scanned a chart. She glanced up when he entered and smiled. “Well, hello, Sam. What brings you here?”

He held out the dog. “Pookie.”

Skye took her, and the dog almost went into ecstasy, wiggling and licking Skye. “Hello, sweetie. How are you?”

Pookie arfed. Twice.

Skye cuddled her close. “Somehow I never figured you for the type who’d choose a Lhasa apso named Pookie.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Me, neither.” He told her the story of how he came to be her new owner. “I don’t know anything about her. I didn’t even know what kind of dog she was until you said. She just looks like a dust mop to me. I don’t know about her health or if she’s had her shots. She hides under the bed a lot.”

Skye checked a tag on her collar. “Here’s the number of her vet in San Antonio. Why didn’t you call the office and ask?”

Feeling a little dumb, Sam managed to grin. “Never thought of it. Guess I was looking for an excuse to drop over and ask you to lunch.”

She laughed, took a cell phone from her pocket and punched in a number. She identified herself and asked for information on Pookie. After a few moments, she hung up and told Sam, “All her shots are in order, and she’s a bit overweight but basically healthy. Let me examine her to be sure.”

Skye set the dog on her examining table, whispered something to her, and Pookie’s wiggling stopped. She stood statue-still while Skye looked her over.

After a few minutes, Skye said, “She’s fine, just a little sad about the loss of her mistress. It’s to be expected. She likes you.”

“I feed her hamburgers and steak.”

“Leave off the hamburgers and steak, or she’ll be a real roly-poly.”

She named a dry food that she recommended for small dogs. “She can have a treat occasionally.” She ruffled Pookie’s coat. “Show dogs of this breed really do look like dust mops, and they have to be carefully and frequently groomed. Her coat has been kept clipped, and I’d recommend continuing that for her comfort and your convenience. She needs a haircut and grooming now before she starts getting painful mats.”

“Where do I get that done?”

Skye glanced at Napoleon. He nodded. “Napoleon will get her fixed up. Every few weeks you can take her to any good groomer near you.”

Skye handed Pookie to Napoleon, and the dog went into her wiggling and licking routine again for him. She didn’t seem to mind his looks. The man spoke to her softly as they left the room.

“Sam, I think it’s very sweet of you to take in Pookie.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to take her to the pound. Do you know of anybody who might like to have her?”

Skye looked concerned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to traumatize her further. She’s probably best off with you.”

Sam nodded. Looked like he now had a dog. “How about joining me for lunch?”

“How about you join me at home instead? You and Pookie. Belle is coming over to go swimming this afternoon.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

“I’m sure one of Gabe’s will fit.”

“It’s a deal.” The thought of Skye in a bathing suit had him salivating. He’d bet she was a knockout in a bikini.

“You can have a seat in the waiting room until Napoleon is finished with Pookie,” she said. “I have a couple more patients to see yet.”

SKYE FELT AS GIDDY AS A CHILD at Christmas. She was sure that Mrs. Westmoreland thought she was nuts because of the way she kept smiling during the account of Puffy’s numerous hair balls. And certainly nothing was funny about George Bill’s parrot, who had picked out half his feathers, but she could barely keep her mind on her patients. She wanted to break out into song and dance around the examining tables.

Sam Outlaw was here, here in her office. She’d thought about him all week, wondering if she would ever see him again. Gabe had said that Sam wasn’t her type, but she had to disagree. Sam was exactly her type. No man that she’d met in years had made her chest tighten and her stomach do back-flips.

She wanted to kiss little Pookie for bringing him to her office. And she could hardly wait to see Sam in a bathing suit. He was sexy enough with all his clothes on. Bare-chested, she’d bet he was a serious stud-muffin.

She giggled as she hung up her smock. Where were all these thoughts and feelings coming from? It was as if all her pent-up desires were rattling their cages and clamoring to get out. She’d have to watch herself or she’d scare the poor man to death.

Holy smoke.

Chapter Three

When Sam pulled himself out of the pool, looked at her and grinned, Skye nearly melted into a little puddle. Even his teeth were perfect—as perfect as his abs. He could have been a model, except he probably thought models were sissies. And maybe they were. Sam was all man for sure, and she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him since they’d left her office. He was gorgeous, and sexuality oozed from him like honey from a comb. She wanted to run her tongue over his chest to see if he tasted sweet.

Suddenly embarrassed by her thoughts, she forced herself to look away and say something to Belle. But Belle was looking at Gabe as if he were an eclair on a doily and not paying the least bit of attention to Sam and her. Gabe was just as rapt with Belle.

Maybe that’s why Skye had gone so goofy over Sam. She was envious of her brother and Belle, and wanted the same thing they had. Boy, had she picked a doozy for her first foray into romance in years. Why couldn’t she be attracted to somebody sane and simple? Like John.

But no. John didn’t make her heart rev up like a race car.

“Come on in the water,” Sam said.

“I don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“It’ll dry. Come on in. Or can’t you swim?”

“Of course I can swim. I’ve got a box full of ribbons somewhere that says I can.”

Sam walked toward her, trailing water. “Guess I’ll just have to toss you in.” He grabbed her.

“No-o-o-o!” she screamed. “Don’t!”

He laughed, hauled her up and jumped into the pool with her in his arms.

Gus barked, Gabe yelled and she hit the water in a panic.

When she surfaced, Gus had Sam by the arm, and both Gabe and Belle were in the pool yelling and splashing. Pandemonium.

“Gus! Release!” Skye shouted.

Gus let go of Sam’s arm, but Gabe grabbed it. “What the hell are you doing?” He drew back his fist.

“Let go of my brother,” Belle yelled at Gabe. “What the hell are you doing?”

Gabe stepped back. “Sorry. Skye, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Gabe. I’m fine. Out, Gus. Sam, are you hurt?”

Sam looked down at his forearm. “I was expecting blood, but he didn’t even break the skin.”

“Thank, God,” Skye said. She heaved herself onto the pool apron and, knees still wobbly, went to talk to Gus, who sat by the chair she’d vacated, looking very pleased with himself. She wasn’t sure whether to praise him or scold him. She settled for ruffling his coat. “Sam’s a friend, Gus. Get that? A friend.”

Why was Gus so wary around Sam? It was as if he really thought Sam would hurt her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gabe said.

“I’m sure.” She wasn’t sure at all, but her brother looked so concerned that she didn’t want to make a big deal of it. She hadn’t felt comfortable in the water for years. Being in the pool made her feel vulnerable—a feeling she avoided in any way possible.

“Don’t be such a mother hen, Gabe,” Belle said.

Skye felt awful for more than Gus’s attack. She didn’t want to be the cause of an argument between her brother and someone she hoped would be her sister-in-law. She stood and pasted a big smile on her face. “Yeah, Gabe. Don’t be such a mother hen. Gus, stay.”

She forced herself to walk to the diving board, mount it and execute what she hoped was a perfect jackknife into the deep end of the pool. Slicing cleanly into the water felt wonderful. A ton of old memories flooded her, good ones, as she pushed up and broke the surface. She hadn’t forgotten how to dive.

Or swim, she thought as she began a slow crawl down the length of the pool. When she got to Sam she stopped.

“I’m really sorry about Gus attacking you. When I screamed, he thought you were hurting me. Is your arm still okay?”

“Not a problem.” He smiled.

She returned his smile. “Good.” She shoved the heel of her hand through the water and splashed him with a face-full of water. Then she laughed and surfaced-dived, heading away from him.

He grabbed her foot. She kicked furiously at him and popped to the surface, anxiety almost overwhelming her. She fought the dreadful clawing in her chest, fought the urge to cry out.

“Please don’t grab me,” she said quietly. “I have a thing about being grabbed. It makes me go a little nuts.”

“Sorry,” Sam said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t know. But I understand. With me it’s being tickled. My brothers used to hold me down and do it. J.J. especially. I become a wild man when anybody tickles me in the ribs.”

“Tell you what,” Skye said. “I won’t tickle you if you won’t grab me.”

“It’s a deal. Sorry I upset you and got your hair wet.”

“It’s okay.” She flipped onto her back and sculled along, enjoying the feel of the water against her skin, and, surprisingly, feeling safe with Sam close by. Maybe it was because he was bigger than life or maybe it was because he was a Texas Ranger, but he exuded an aura of power and control that was extremely comforting as he paddled along beside her.

It was a lovely feeling.

For the first time in many years she felt free to relax and enjoy swimming, an activity that had once been an important part of her life. For that alone, she wanted to hug Sam.

But there were others reasons, too. She laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Everything. Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

ONCE SHE GOT INTO THE WATER, Skye hated to get out, but she was turning into a prune, so she reluctantly dragged herself from the pool and everybody went inside to change. The guys were going to grill steaks and veggies while she and Belle made salad and dressing.

Maria, the cook, and her husband, Manuel, had the weekend off, and Suki and her husband, Ralph, had gone to visit her sister for the weekend. Only Flora and the two couples were around—except for the guards, who were always on the grounds.

When she came downstairs, Skye found her mother in the kitchen with Pookie and Tiger, her tiny Yorkshire terrier, dancing around her feet.

“I just put the icing on a chocolate sheath cake,” Flora said. “Maxine is picking me up any minute.”

“Aren’t you going to stay for dinner?” Skye asked.

“No, dear. Maxine and Bess and I are driving over to San Marcos for dinner. It’s Bess’s birthday. Didn’t I tell you?”

“It must have slipped my mind. The cake looks scrumptious.”

“Mmm,” said Belle as she joined them. “I adore chocolate.” She bent and scooped up Pookie, who had taken an immediate liking to Belle. “You are such a cutie pie, Pookie. I can’t believe you belong to Sam.”

“I’d be willing to part with her if you want her,” Sam said as he joined them.

“Sorry. Animals aren’t allowed in my townhouse.”

Gabe walked in. “Move back here, and you can have all the animals you want.”

Belle merely rolled her eyes at him.

The doorbell rang, and Flora said, “That must be Maxine. I’ll be going now. I should be back by nine.”

“I’ll walk you to the door and get the alarm,” Gabe said.

Skye kissed her mother’s cheek, and Sam followed suit. Flora looked extremely pleased by his gesture.

“Don’t you ladies get into any trouble now,” Sam said.

Flora laughed and patted his cheek. “I can’t make any promises, dear boy.”

Gabe and Belle walked out with Flora, leaving Skye and Sam alone in the kitchen with the dogs.

“My mother likes you,” Skye said.

“Good. I like her, too. And I like her daughter.”

For a moment Skye couldn’t make herself look up from the ears of corn she’d taken from the fridge. Then she told herself she was being as silly as a teenager. She smiled. “Do you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.” He touched her chin with his knuckle.

Gus growled.

Sam sighed and moved his hand. “Need any help with that corn?”

“Sure. We usually grill it in the shucks, but we have to remove the silks.”

Sam picked up an ear and skinned back the shuck. “Like that?”

“Exactly. But let me get some newspaper to catch the mess.”

“Wonder what happened to Gabe and Belle?”

Skye laughed. “Bet they’re making out in the entryway.”

“I wouldn’t cover that bet.”

By the time Gabe and Belle rejoined them, the corn was ready for the grill. The guys tended to the steaks while Belle and Skye handled the rest of the meal, including skewering an assortment of marinated vegetables for the barbecue.

In no time, their meal was done, and they were sitting around the table enjoying the food they’d prepared.

“I can’t believe that you’re not eating a single piece of this rib eye,” Sam said. “It’s fantastic.”

“Ugh!” Skye said. “Looks gross to me. Sure you won’t have more grilled zucchini?”

“Point taken.”

Skye glanced at Gus and smiled. She caught Sam’s attention and motioned toward her dog. Pookie was cuddled up next to Gus, sleeping.

“Looks like Gus has a new admirer,” Gabe said.

“He’s been awfully patient with her nipping and tumbling over him,” Belle added.

“With Tiger around, he’s used to it,” Skye said. “Plus he’s around rambunctious animals all the time at the clinic.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s only me he doesn’t like.”

“I’m really sorry about what happened at the pool today,” Skye said.

“No harm done.”

After dinner, everybody pitched in to clean up, then Gabe found an old Trivial Pursuit game, and they played until Flora came home.

“I need to get going,” Sam said, standing. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“Not much chance of that,” Gabe said.

“I don’t know,” Belle said. “He eats a lot.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Belle laughed. “I need to get going myself. A publisher’s job is never done, and I have paperwork that I’ve ignored too long.”

Sam scooped up Pookie, and everybody moved toward the front door except Skye. As was her custom, she hung back a bit. Sam hung back with her. “I’ve really enjoyed the day. Could we get together next weekend?”

“Sure,” Skye said, her anticipation almost palpable. “I’m almost always here or at the clinic.”

“I’ll give you a call.”

Skye wanted to touch him, to brush her fingers over the rough stubble beginning to show on his face, but she settled for stroking Pookie. “I enjoyed the day, too. Good night.”

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, not too long after he arrived at work, Sam’s lieutenant, Heck Pruitt, called him into his office. He had a fat stack of files on his desk.

“Have a seat, Sam,” Heck said. “I wanted to talk to you about this case that’s been referred to us. Rather, it’s a series of cases. Didn’t I hear you say that you and Gabe Burrell over in Wimberley are friends?”

“That’s right. We’re fishing buddies, and he’s my insurance agent. I expect that he might become my brother-in-law one day soon.”

“Oh?” Heck raised his eyebrows. “Do you know his sister?”

“Skye? Sure do. She’s my…veterinarian. Why?”

“Do you know about what happened to her some years back?”

Puzzled, Sam said, “I guess not. Was she involved in a crime?”

“She was a victim, one of several victims of a kidnapper, but she was the only one who lived. Remember the coed kidnappings?”

“Oh, my God. The papers were full of it for months. That was Skye? Gabe’s never mentioned a word about it to me.”

“Take these files and read over them,” Heck said. “We have to decide if we can find any reason to reopen the case. It’s been stone cold for a long time. If we could get some help from Skye Walker, it could make all the difference.”

“Skye’s a really nice woman,” Sam said. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to help any way she can.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Read the files first, then we’ll talk some more.”

Chapter Four

Sam read through the files that covered a period beginning ten years before and became more concerned as he read. In each case, a young woman had been kidnapped from a university in Texas and her family contacted for ransom money. The money had been paid in every case but one, the third abduction, where a girl had been taken from Rice University in Houston. She’d been on scholarship, and her mother couldn’t afford to pay. Coeds, from freshmen to grad students, had been taken from seven major schools: SMU in Dallas, Rice in Houston, University of Texas in Austin, Stephen F. Austin in Nacogdoches, Baylor in Waco, North Texas in Denton and, finally, Texas A&M in College Station. All except Pamela Fairchild, the junior at Rice, were from well-to-do families. None were ever seen again. Except one.

Skye Walker. The seventh case.

According to the file, Skye had left that morning for a run with her dog. When she didn’t return, her roommate became concerned and went looking for her. She’d found the dog, a German shepherd, unconscious from a tranquilizer dart. She’d called the police. Later that day, Gabe had been contacted by phone and instructed to pay a ransom for Skye’s return. An FBI comparison determined that the calls and ransom procedures were the same as in the previous coed kidnappings. Gabe had paid the ransom, but Skye wasn’t returned as promised.

The next day her dog had somehow located her and attracted attention by digging and barking. Skye had been found in a plywood box in a shallow grave in a secluded area about a mile from where she’d been abducted.

“My God!” Buried alive. Sam rubbed his hand over his face and swung his chair to face the window. She must have died a thousand deaths in that box. No wonder the security around her was so tight. And they’d never caught the bastard. He was still out there somewhere. Sam wondered if he’d moved to another part of the country to keep up his abductions. Of course he’d netted a fair amount of money. Maybe he’d just retired to Mexico.

He turned around and went back to his reading.

Skye had been dehydrated, severely traumatized and hoarse from screaming when they’d found her. Her fingers had been bloody from trying to escape. And she hadn’t been able to remember a thing about her abductor. She’d had total amnesia for the incident, but had worked with psychologists and hypnotists trying to remember.

Nothing.

Of course her abductor hadn’t known that she couldn’t remember. Sam figured that when had news hit about Skye’s recovery, the perp had made tracks.

Bastard. Sorry bastard.

Without information from her, the cases had gone nowhere. He gathered up the files and went into Heck’s office.

“Well, what do you think?” his lieutenant asked.

“I think the chances of ever finding the guy who did this are pretty slim unless Skye gives us something to go on. Looks like every lead at the time was exhausted.”

“I agree. I’d like for you to talk to Skye Walker again and see if you can come up with anything that would warrant us reopening these cases. She and her brother were cooperative at first, but they later pulled back, and he’s been very protective of her.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sam said. “If it had happened to my sister, I’d do the same. Sure, I’ll talk to her. But I’ll check with Gabe first. I’ll call him now.”

Sam caught Gabe at his office.

Gabe was guarded when Sam brought up the subject of the coed kidnappings and his unit’s interest in reopening the case.

“Sam, Skye can’t remember the man. The last thing she remembers is leaving her apartment that morning. She was in therapy for years afterward, and she’s still traumatized over what happened to her. Her life is workable now, and I don’t want to rock the boat. You can’t imagine what it was like.”

“I’ve just read the case files. It blew me away that she managed to live through it. Seems to me it might help her if we could reopen the case and nab this guy. Do you mind if I ask her?”

“Let me talk to her first,” Gabe said. “I’ll get back to you tonight.”

SKYE’S FIRST REACTION WAS SHOCK, then anger. Was this the reason that Sam had been so interested in her? Was she simply an interesting bug under a microscope and a means for him to become big dog by solving an unsolvable old crime? “So much for my sex appeal,” she muttered.

“Whoa,” Gabe said as they sat alone in his study after dinner. “I hope you’re not thinking that Sam’s only interest in you is because you were a victim.”

“Sure sounds that way.”

“Skye, he didn’t even know about your abduction until this morning.”

“And you believe that?”

“Of course I believe it. Sam’s an honorable man. And, from the looks of him last Saturday, one who’s interested in getting to know you better in lots of ways. If you don’t want to talk to him, just say the word, and I’ll tell him. He’ll respect that. But I should warn you, if it’s not Sam, it may be another ranger from his unit. I gather that the team has been asked to review the series of abductions for further investigation. It’s what they do—reinvestigate cold cases. Need some time to think about it?”

Skye didn’t answer right away. She looked down at her hands, fingers laced and gripped in her lap. Tension sent every muscle in her body into its knotted mode. Was this any way to live? Locked in, a bodyguard at her side, jumping at the least little thing? For the longest time, all she wanted to be was safe. All she wanted to do was forget. But she couldn’t completely forget. She had a feeling that the nightmares she’d been having were repressed memories trying to surface.

And they scared her.

Terrified her.

But living the rest of her life in limbo was just as terrifying. And knowing that Gabe deserved to be out from under the responsibility of keeping her safe weighed heavily on her thoughts. She was a drag on his happiness, his and Belle’s. She knew that. Security had become a prison of her own making.

A prison? Maybe so. But was she ready to leave its safety? She didn’t know. But she knew that talking with Sam could be the beginning of a monumental change in her life. He would want to drag it all out. Every last bit. Even the parts she had buried so deeply that not even she knew what terrible things were there. No psychologist, no hypnotist had been able to reach it. It must be horrible.

Skye took a deep breath and looked up at her brother. “Tell him that I’ll talk to him tomorrow afternoon. Does he know that I have amnesia for the…event?”

Gabe nodded. “He knows.”

She left, went to her room and threw up.

SKYE DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH THAT night. Gabe had to come into her room twice to awaken her from a nightmare. An intercom connected her bedroom to his, and her screaming or Gus’s barking always brought him to soothe her back to sleep.

She’d been distracted at yoga class with Belle and at lunch later with Belle and Gabe.

“You don’t have to do this,” Gabe said as they drove home from town.

“Yes, I do. It’s time.”

She’d gone up to her sitting room to read, but she was still on the same page a half hour later when there was a knock on her door.

Startled, her heart pounding, she said, “Yes?”

“Skye, it’s me. Sam.”

Rising quickly, her book fell from her lap, knocking over a vase of gerbera daisies on the coffee table. Water went everywhere. “Oh, damn!”

Another knock came.

“Just a minute!” she yelled and ran for a towel from the bathroom.

Unsettled, Gus ran with her, barking.

Sam knocked again. “Skye, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she called. “Just a minute. Gus, sit!”

Gus sat, but he obviously didn’t like it and snarled at the door while she mopped up water from the table and tried to blot it up from the floor. “Oh, double damn!” She stuck the flowers back into the narrow-necked vase and tried to replace it on the table, but without the water to balance the weight, it kept listing, and she’d have to grab it to keep it from falling over.

Finally, holding the vase, she stomped to the door and swung it open.

Sam grinned and glanced at the flowers. “For me?”

“I—I had an accident. Let me put some water in these. Have a seat.” She gestured to the couch and chairs in her sitting room. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time she’d returned with the vase, Sam was sitting on the couch, his white hat in his hand. Gus still sat where she’d ordered, but he made low rumblings in his throat as he eyed Sam. Sam stood, and Gus’s ears went back.

“Gus, down. Stay. Quiet.”

Gus followed her commands, but he kept an eye on Sam. What was it with that dog and Sam?

“Sorry that Gus is being rude, Sam. I got upset over this blasted vase of flowers, and I suppose that he associated my agitation with you.”

“No problem.” Sam laid his hat on the coffee table. “Skye—”

“May I get you some coffee? Or a Coke?”

“No, thanks. Skye—”

“I’ll bet that there’s some juice in the fridge if you’d rather have that.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

She jumped to her feet. “I think I’ll have something.” She hurried to the mini-fridge disguised as a small chest and opened it. Grabbing a bottle of orange juice, she said, “Sure you don’t want something?”

“I’m sure.”

She opened the bottle and took a couple of swigs. Her hands shook, and she dribbled juice down the front of her blouse. “Triple damn! Excuse me.” She hurried to the bathroom again and blotted at the juice stains. They still showed on her white shirt. Quickly she changed her shirt and left the juice in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” she said when she returned. “I’m such a klutz sometimes.”

“I think you’re nervous.”

She took a deep breath. “I think you’re right.”

“I won’t bite. I promise.” He grinned.

How could she resist that expression? It was the epitome of the term boyish grin. She smiled. “I know you won’t.”

“Do you mind if I take notes and record our conversation?”

“No, but you won’t have much. I don’t remember anything.”

“Nothing?”

She shook her head.

Sam set a small tape recorder on the table and took a pad and pen from his pocket. “What was the date?”

“May 8. Six years ago.”

“See. You remembered that.”

She made herself take deep breaths and unlace her cramped fingers. “The last clear memory that I have is waving to my neighbor as Kaiser and I began our run.”

“What was the neighbor’s name?”

“Mrs. Howard, I think. I’m sure it’s in the police report. She said she was baking some gingerbread and that I should stop by for some after my run. I love gingerbread, and I can remember the smell of it.”

“So you can’t remember the man who grabbed you?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Sometimes I think I see his face in my dreams, but when I wake up, it’s gone.”

“Do you remember any of your time…before you were rescued?”

“I have vague memories of fear and panic, that terrible fear of being trapped and unable to escape. It’s not clear. Nothing is clear except the feelings. They’ve never left me. If I could remember anything helpful, Sam, I’d tell you. God knows, I’d like to know that the man responsible is locked away behind bars. He needs to pay for all the horror he inflicted on the other women he abducted. The ones who didn’t escape. If it hadn’t been for Kaiser…”

“Kaiser?”

“Kaiser was Gus’s sire. Somehow he managed to track me. I remember hearing him bark, and I screamed and screamed. And I can remember suddenly seeing the sky. Then nothing until later in my hospital room. Gabe and Mother were there. Big blocks of time are gone. The doctors say it’s not uncommon and that I may never remember.”

“Did you see a therapist afterward?”

“For years. Two different ones.”

“Did you ever try hypnosis?”

Skye nodded. “Early on. It didn’t help.”

“Would you be willing to try again now?”

She hesitated and swallowed down the bile building in her throat. “I would need to think about it. It’s not that I don’t want to be helpful. It’s simply that I became extremely agitated during the hypnosis and I had terrible nightmares afterward.”

“I’m certainly no expert in the area, but I understand that we can secure one of the best in the state who has helped in numerous cases.”

“But any information that I might give you while under hypnosis isn’t admissible in court, is it?”

Sam frowned. “I’m not sure about that. But I do know that right now we have absolutely no leads at all. Any information you could give us would be better than what we have now. Maybe we could build a case without your testimony. Let me ask you something. Do you remember anybody hanging around your apartment before that morning? This guy had to have been watching you.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.”

Sam asked her several other questions, and she answered as best she could, but mostly she was a blank. Her head began to pound. She hadn’t had a migraine in a while, but she could feel one coming on.

“Sam, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I can talk about it anymore. I’m getting a splitting headache.”

He closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. “I understand. I’ll leave now. Maybe we can get together this weekend.”

“I don’t think I’ll have any more to tell you.”

“I wasn’t talking about the case. I meant maybe we could go out or something.”

That should have pleased her, but the pain in her head took all her attention. “Call me,” she said, and fled to her bedroom for medication.

SAM TALKED WITH GABE for a while about Skye’s kidnapping, but he didn’t have anything to add that wasn’t in the reports he’d read. Except recounting the horror of it.

“Was Skye able to tell you anything helpful?” Gabe asked.

“Not really. She was nervous as a cat, and just talking about it gave her a bad headache.”

“A migraine. Damn. It’ll lay her low for several hours. She hasn’t had one in a while.”

“Man, I’m sorry about that. But I had to talk to her.”

Gabe shrugged. “I’m not blaming you for doing your job.”

After Sam left, he headed downtown to see Belle’s office. He’d been promising her that he’d drop by sometime. Wimberley was a pretty little town full of old rednecks, an artsy crowd plus a new influx of retirees and folks attracted to the charm of a small town and the bucks to be made with the booming tourist trade.

He followed Ranch Road 12 toward the square, passing over the bridge where Cypress Creek had smoothed the limestone boulders along its bumpy path. Not that he could see anything square about the square. There was a crooked Y in the road and a couple of streets off to one side with a bunch of shops and restaurants painted different colors. His mother would call the town picturesque.

He found the Wimberley Star office down one of the side streets and parked out front. Belle liked it here. Mostly he figured that Belle liked it here because Gabe was here.

Gabe was a good guy.

And Skye…

Skye was spectacular. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. Sam wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to do it, but somehow, some way, he was going to track down the bastard who had screwed up her life and put him behind bars.

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