HER CHRISTMAS PROTECTOR

When his former crush is suspected of funneling drugs through her ranch, it’s DEA agent Nathan Williams’s job to find out if Becca Price is guilty. But after Becca is attacked, his top priority becomes protecting her. Convinced she’s innocent, Nathan is determined to find the real culprit before the escalating threats become deadly. An ex’s betrayal has left Nathan wary, and falling for the suspect he’s secretly investigating is a no-win move, so he must keep an emotional distance. But with criminals preparing for a fatal showdown, can he find the truth in time to save Becca’s life?

The white truck drew closer.

Becca pressed the gas pedal then let off. She’d let the truck go around her if he was in that much of a hurry. She slowed. He closed in fast. Too late, she realized he wasn’t going to pass her. Instead, he rammed the back of her truck.

Becca cried out and spun the wheel to keep the vehicle on the road. Another slam sent her into a spin. She screamed and stepped on the brakes. Her truck slowed, but the pedal felt squishy and then went to the floor.

In horror, she realized she was headed straight for the side of the mountain. Becca spun the wheel one more time and managed to keep from going over, but it put her face-to-face with the person trying to kill her.

He gunned the engine of his vehicle and Becca slammed hers into Reverse then hit the gas. She lurched backward, and the attacker flew past her.

Becca hit the brakes, and this time the pedal didn’t even pause as it slammed against the floor.

She continued to move backward and dropped over the edge of the mountain road.

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for coming back to Wrangler’s Corner with Becca and Nathan’s story. They’ve become two of my favorite characters. Probably because I got to work on this story with my favorite daughter. Okay, my only daughter, but she’s still my favorite. This was truly a very special story for me because we brainstormed it together. When the Killer Voices contest was announced, Lauryn (then fifteen years old) decided she wanted to give it a try. She came up with the characters and wrote the first page to be submitted. Of course I helped her out by telling her what to include in the first page, like a lot of suspense, and she took it from there. She based Becca’s character on her own experience with a fall from a horse and the misery of a sprained back and a concussion. She then added her years of experience riding horses (since she was about four years old) and voilà, had a great heroine for the story. I came up with the hero for the most part, and then she and I brainstormed how the story should unfold. Lauryn then wrote the next two chapters, which I helped her edit, and she went through to the last round of the contest, where she was asked to submit a full manuscript. Well, her schedule was such that there was no way she was going to be able to do it. Exams in May, then a very busy summer with mission trips and so on. So, the story was shelved. About six months or so ago, I asked her if she was ever going to finish the story and she said, “No, probably not, but you can if you want to.”

And so I did. I tweaked it a bit to make it fit the Wrangler’s Corner series, but I felt she deserved her name on the cover due to all the initial hard work she put into it. We hope you love Becca and Nathan’s story as much as we do! Have a blessed Christmas and very happy New Year. May you never run out of books to read!

Much love and blessings,

Lynette

Dear Reader,

This book was originally supposed to be entered into the Killer Voices contest back in 2014. I started working on it at the beach during spring break of my sophomore year of high school because it was too cold and rainy to go out and do anything. I intended to just write and enter the contest for pleasure, but the Lord obviously had other plans. I sent my mom the first chapter, and she encouraged me to keep writing, so I did. Brainstorming with her for the rest of the book was fun because she is so passionate about writing and gets excited about the characters and story line. She’s the most creative person I know (which was annoying in high school when I wanted to stay out late with friends and she was worried I was going to end up kidnapped at gunpoint), but if it wasn’t for her encouragement, the chapters and ideas probably would have wound up being deleted and that would have been the end of it all. I did learn that while writing fiction can be fun, it is also very difficult. Writers have my full admiration and appreciation. And while working on this story with my mother was fun, it looks like I’m going to be transferring my writing to everything that comes with law school. Maybe I’ll write a book again one day, but for now, I’m just so proud to say that I got to work on this project with her (even though she did most of the work). I hope you all enjoyed the story!

God Bless!

Lauryn Eason

LYNETTE EASON and her daughter, LAURYN EASON, teamed up to write Christmas Ranch Rescue after Lauryn made it to the final round in the 2014 Love Inspired Suspense Killer Voices contest. Lauryn is now a sophomore in college and plans to major in international studies and communications. Lynette is the bestselling, award-winning author of almost forty books. She writes for Revell and Harlequin’s Love Inspired Suspense line and can be found online at www.lynetteeason.com.

Christmas Ranch Rescue

Lynette Eason & Lauryn Eason

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

—Psalms 91:1–2

To the amazingly smart, supercute, sweetest little three-year-olds ever, Lynette’s niece and nephew and Lauryn’s cousins, Shelby Elizabeth and Thomas Lane. We love you to the moon and back and pray you grow up to realize how wonderful our crazy family is in spite of all our imperfections.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader by Lynette Eason

Dear Reader by Lauryn Eason

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Becca Price’s slowly healing back shouted its discomfort as she heaved the water hose into the horse’s stall to fill the bucket. She ignored the pain and listened to the old barn creak. The feeling of someone watching her spiked the hairs on her neck and she shuddered.

Someone watching, waiting. Not exactly how she wanted to start her Monday morning.

The ominous feeling had just grown stronger over the past few weeks ever since her fall. She glanced around and did her best to shake off the creepiness.

Again.

Unfortunately, she just couldn’t quite manage it. A shiver rippled up her spine and it had nothing to do with the forty-degree temperatures outside.

“Nathan? Is that you?” Nathan Williams, her former best friend and reformed practical joker, was back in town and asking to see her. Maybe he’d come early and was reverting to their teenage days.

Silence echoed back at her. She wished Jack, her five-year-old golden retriever, had followed her into the barn. He’d tell her if someone was out there. But he’d taken off across the backyard and through the pasture.

She shook her head. “Focus on the horses,” she muttered. Owning her own barn had been a dream since childhood. A little pain—and paranoia—wouldn’t stop her from giving her clients what they’d paid for. “One down, eleven more to go.”

She moved to the next stall. The pretty paint nickered and nuzzled up against Becca’s face. Absently, she stroked the animal’s warm neck. She couldn’t help but scan the open area between the stalls once more, even as she took comfort in the horse’s calming presence. He didn’t seem worried. Becca stepped back and her foot caught the edge of the bucket, dumping what she’d just filled.

She sighed and righted the pail to start over. Even with all of the hard work, she wouldn’t do anything else, have any other career—not even use the medical degree she’d been arm-twisted into getting. At least, not right now. Right now, horses were her passion.

No matter the backlash she got.

Becca tightened her jaw. She’d succeed. She would. She’d find the money to keep the barn going. Somehow, someway. And she wouldn’t ask her parents for help—that was for sure. She’d go back to working a full-time job before she’d ask them for help. Which they wouldn’t give her anyway.

Don’t let me give up, please God. Give me strength. The prayer felt weird, and she felt almost guilty for praying it. Her parents had both been born in Wrangler’s Corner and grown up not too far from where Becca now lived. But they’d had bigger dreams than horses and ranching. Not only for themselves, but for her, too. Their only child. So they’d packed her up and moved to Nashville when she was seventeen years old.

She still wasn’t sure she’d forgiven them for that—even though she’d gone along with it without outward argument.

Somehow she’d survived the move, the new school, and the never-ending social engagements she’d been required to attend. She’d excelled at pleasing her parents.

Until she’d had enough.

A year ago, she’d bought this place with the small bit of money her grandmother had bequeathed her and moved home.

The barn door squeaked again and she jumped. “Nathan? If that’s you, it’s not funny.”

Silence echoed back at her. Nathan used to like practical jokes, was always pulling off some stunt when they were in high school, but he’d never been mean or deliberately creepy. Even he wouldn’t take it this far. When he’d called this morning and asked to see her, she’d been stunned. Pleasantly stunned for sure, but she knew she hadn’t hidden her surprise well. “I’m back in town,” he’d said, “and I need some work. Do you think I could come talk to you about a job?”

She stumbled through a yes and he’d promised to be there shortly.

But even he couldn’t have gotten here that fast. So that meant someone else was there. But who and why wouldn’t that person answer her?

Her pulse began a swift beat and her nerves shivered. Becca kinked the hose and the water flow stopped. She stepped from the stall and looked out into the open area. Nothing. Again. She shuddered and bit her lip, chastising herself for jumping at her shadow. No one was there after all.

The door to the barn creaked but didn’t open. She stomped her foot and turned back to stare at the door. She’d moved too fast. Pain shot through her and she grimaced. “Hello?”

Only the sounds of the horses answered her. Her nerves stretched and she moved from the stall to the center of the barn. Her boots crunched on the combination of dirt and scattered hay as she stopped and listened. Before the accident, she would have marched up to the door and thrown it open. Now, fear invaded her body, and she shivered. It didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t shrug it away.

She reached for the pitchfork she’d leaned against the stall opposite the paint’s.

A flash of memory taunted her. Pounding hooves and a horse’s crazed whinny. She gasped and knew the memory was from the day of her fall. She had very little recollection of what had happened that day.

Four weeks ago, when she’d awakened in the middle of the field, the pain had taken her breath away. Christine Hampton, her trainer, had been on the phone screaming at the 911 dispatcher.

Now it seemed as if someone was trying to get in her barn. And Becca didn’t know if she had the strength to defend herself if that someone had evil on his mind.

* * *

Nathan Williams watched the trees pass by as his anger simmered beneath the surface. The conversation with Clay Starke had riled him, and he almost missed the turn for Becca Price’s gravel drive. He pressed the brake hard and made a quick turn in the right direction.

Once he knew he was back on track, he let the conversation he’d had not twenty minutes earlier run through his head. He’d been in Clay’s office, sitting across from the man who’d just asked him to spy on the woman who’d been his best friend since childhood.

Granted, they hadn’t spoken much in the past several years, but she’d meant the world to him once upon a time, and he was kicking himself over what he’d just agreed to do.

When Clay Starke, sheriff in the small town of Wrangler’s Corner, Tennessee, located about an hour outside of Nashville, had called asking for his help, Nathan had listened with the intention of letting Clay down gently.

However, when his friend had told him about Becca’s accident and that she was desperate for help, he hadn’t been able to say no. He’d come home and found out what was really going through Clay’s mind. “It’s possible she’s running drugs off her ranch and I need it proven one way or another.”

“There’s no way that’s possible.” He’d immediately defended Becca. “I’m not going to do it.” He’d shoved the chair back and stood, anger thumping through him. Betrayal burned in his belly. “You lied to me.”

Clay had leaned forward, regret and determination stamped on his lined face. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything because I knew this would be your reaction. I remember how crazy you were about Becca in high school.”

“Yeah, well, she wouldn’t give me the time of day, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” At least not in the romance department. But she’d loved hanging out with him at his house and playing Sunday afternoon football in the big backyard with him and his dad.

Clay had sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m at the end of my rope, Nate. People are dying. The last victim of an overdose, Donny Torres, was only nineteen years old. And while he had a rap sheet as long as your arm, he didn’t deserve to die.”

“I agree.”

“I talked to Donny’s parents. I’ve known them for a while now, and I knew Donny well. He was a hard case, I’ll admit. He didn’t hang around with the good guys, and his name has popped up several times in my various investigations. I think he knew a lot more about the drugs in this town than he was letting on. And...”

“And?”

“He had Becca’s cell phone number in his phone. When I asked her who he was and why he would have her number indicating a call from her, she said she didn’t know. I mean, she knew Donny, of course, it’s a small town. But she said she had no idea why he had her number in his phone and that she’d never called him.”

“Maybe she didn’t.”

“I pulled her records and they had a ten-minute conversation the day of her accident. Two days before that, they talked for six minutes, and a week before that, they talked for four and a half minutes. And there was a text message to him that said, ‘Shipment 125 4AM.’”

Nathan had frowned. Okay, that was kind of weird. “What did she say when you told her you had a record of the calls and the text?”

“She just shook her head and denied knowing anything about them. And honestly, she did look completely confused. But...I don’t know, Nate, I just don’t know. You and I’ve worked the bigger city crimes. You know what good actors some people are. My gut is saying she’s innocent, and my heart wants to agree, but the evidence is saying otherwise.”

“Did you get a warrant to search her place?”

Clay had grimaced. “Yes. Last week. I thought the message about the shipment might mean December 5, at four in the morning. I staked the place out that night and never saw a sign of anyone. But I’d already put off the search as long as I ethically could, so I had no choice but to go in. Rumors were swirling, and people were demanding something be done—especially Donny’s parents. I can’t say I blame them.”

“And?”

“And, I’m happy to say, we found nothing.”

“Did you use a drug dog?”

“Yes. I had a buddy bring one in from Nashville. The dog got a little antsy in the barn but never alerted to anything. We searched the barn anyway. Tore the place apart and still found nothing.”

“Then...could someone have it out for her and be trying to set her up?”

“Of course it’s possible, but again, I just don’t know. I mean, if someone was going to set her up, I would think we would have found something, not come away empty-handed.”

“Yeah. True.”

“I do know she’s hurting for money, and sometimes desperate people do desperate things.”

“Hurting for money?” Nathan had raised a brow. “With her parents? That’s not how I remember things. Her parents are loaded.”

“Becca and my aunt and uncle had a falling-out when she quit her job at the hospital and moved back to Wrangler’s Corner. I’m not sure they’ve spoken over the last year.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Clay had sighed and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Look. Whoever’s running these drugs through my town has to be stopped. If it’s Becca, then so be it. I need you to do this because I can’t be objective.”

“And you think I can?”

“You have to.” He’d pierced him with a hard look. “High school was a long time ago. You’ve moved on. You were engaged to another woman, which means you were over Becca.”

That was true. And, had he married Sylvia, he wouldn’t have thought twice about Becca. But Sylvia’s betrayal had shifted something inside of him. Made him long for the innocence and sweetness that had encompassed his relationship with Becca. He’d liked being with her, had respected her and, yes, wanted more than friendship, but knew she hadn’t, so he’d been content just to hang out with her. Until she moved.

He realized Clay was waiting for him to respond. “Yes, I was over Becca. What I felt for her was a teenage crush. And, yes, I truly loved Sylvia.” Which was why her betrayal had nearly gutted him. “But—”

“No buts. You need to keep your feelings out of it. She’s off-limits until we know for sure she’s not involved.”

The shock of Clay’s omission about Becca’s suspected involvement had faded, leaving a simmering anger. Nathan had jabbed a finger at the man he’d always looked up to and trusted. “You said you needed my help. You said there was a drug ring operating right under your nose. And you said that Becca was hurt and I could work for her while I decided whether or not I wanted to go back with the DEA. You just said you wanted me to investigate. You didn’t say anything about going undercover or suspecting that Becca was involved in the drug running.”

“Nath—”

“You want me to lie to her and I won’t do it.” He’d ended his tirade and rubbed his left shoulder, the ache a constant reminder of why women were off-limits.

Especially Becca.

He’d once thought himself in love with her, a middle school crush that had grown as they’d moved into their teenage years. But he’d gotten over her and moved on.

Or so he’d thought.

The feelings that had raced through him once he realized the intent behind Clay’s manipulation made him understand he’d been fooling himself. And that made him mad. He had no intention of fanning an old flame, but the desire to see Becca and protect her from whatever was going on unsettled him. Sylvia had taught him that romance was a waste of time and should be avoided at all costs.

And yet...Becca would never do what Sylvia did.

Would she?

He hated the small kernel of doubt that sprouted its ugly head, but he couldn’t help it. People changed, he knew that. But was it possible for Becca to change that much?

For the most part, Nathan had physically healed from the gunshot wound to his shoulder, but emotionally healed was another story.

After he had refused to budge on his insistence that Clay was wrong and he’d have no part of the scheme, the man had finally said, “Then prove she’s innocent.”

Those four words were why he’d called her and asked to see her, and why he now found himself in Becca’s driveway, fingers still clamped around the wheel of his pickup truck.

* * *

A hand slapped over her mouth and jerked her head back. Pain assaulted her and Becca let out a squeal as the pitchfork slid from her fingers to bounce on the dirt. Jack, her golden retriever, bounded into the barn, barking and lunging at the man behind her.

“Shut up!” He danced sideways to avoid Jack’s snapping jaws, keeping Becca between him and the dog.

Becca struggled, her back screaming in protest at the rough treatment. She finally managed to jam an elbow into his torso. He gave a low grunt and his hand slipped enough for her to open her mouth and bite down.

Yelling, he shoved her away from him. Becca kept her feet beneath her and stumbled for the door while her back spasmed and her head spun. Then the pain overwhelmed her and sent her to her knees. She cried out, unable to do anything except pray her attacker was done.

“Hey! What’s going on in here?”

Jack continued his frantic barks, but she knew the voice that had come from behind her. She rolled, gasping at the arch of fire that burned up her back.

Her attacker had grabbed the pitchfork and was headed toward her friend. “Nathan, watch out!”

With the black ski mask covering his features, she had no way of knowing who he was, just that he was getting ready to stab Nathan.

Nathan waited until the man almost reached him, then spun and kicked out, giving a grunt of satisfaction when his foot connected. The pitchfork flew from the attacker’s hands.

The masked man lunged for the door. Nathan let him go and raced to Becca’s side. He dropped to his knees. “Becca, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” she gasped. “Don’t let him get away.” Jack ran after the escaping intruder. “No! Jack, come!” The dog stopped and returned to Becca. He paced in front of her, his concerned brown eyes never leaving her face.

Nathan’s blue eyes snapped to the barn’s exit, then back to her. “I’m more concerned about getting you to a doctor, but stay put. I’m going to check on him and call 911.”

She nodded and closed her eyes, nausea sweeping over her. Residue from the pain and fear, she was sure.

“I’ll be right back, I promise. Just going to try and get him.”

Nathan raced away from her and she tried to roll to her side. The lightning flash of pain that swept through her stopped that idea. She lay still, swallowing, doing her best not to be sick. Desperation and fury washed through her. She’d reinjured her back. All the therapy and exercises and taking it easy had been undone in the blink of an eye. If she got her hands on the person responsible—

“He’s gone,” Nathan said, coming back into the barn. “He had a car stashed out of sight, backed into the woodsy part near the top of your drive. I would have chased him but didn’t want to leave you here alone and hurt.” He held out a hand. “Can I help you up or would you rather wait for the ambulance to get here?”

She stared up at him, considering her options. “I think as long as I don’t move, I might manage to keep from hurling.”

He squatted, his jeans pulling tight against the muscles in his legs. His boots had seen better days and the cowboy hat hid his eyes. She reached up and flicked it off. His blue eyes set in his permanently tanned face stared down at her. He blinked and then smiled. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you.” She took a deep breath and moved slowly. Her back muscles twinged but didn’t lock up on her. She held up a hand. “I’ll take a little help if you can pull nice and easy so I don’t have to use my back.”

He did. Pretending she had a metal rod in place of her spine, she got to her feet. No bending, no moving fast, no twisting. Her head beat a fast rhythm of pain along with the throbbing in her back. “Thanks.”

Jack whined and nudged the side of her leg. She absently gave his ears a scratch, and that seemed to pacify him.

Sirens filled the air around them. She took a deep breath and a step forward. It hurt, but at least it didn’t feel like she had a knife wedged in her back anymore.

“You need to get to a doctor and have that checked out.”

She didn’t bother telling him she was a doctor. He knew that. Not a back doctor, true, but... “I know what’s wrong and I know how to fix it. Rest and physical therapy.” She grimaced. “Neither of which I like very much.”

“I’m thinking a pain pill wouldn’t hurt.”

She tightened her jaw. “I don’t do drugs—in spite of what everyone in Wrangler’s Corner thinks.”

He lifted an eyebrow and studied her. “I wasn’t suggesting you did. I saw Clay earlier and he told me you had a serious back injury.”

“I do. Did. It’s in the healing process. Or it was before just now.” She’d done the narcotics in the beginning, just to get through the day, but fearing addiction, she’d weaned herself off, and before the attack, had been at the point where she could just take something over the counter when she needed it. Like when she overdid it. Although she had to admit, the pain now was bad enough to have her thinking twice about finding her prescription bottle.

Nathan hovered at her side. “I’m glad you showed up when you did,” she said to him.

“I’m glad I did, too.”

She tilted her head. “Why do you need a job? I thought you were some big bad DEA agent in Nashville.”

His eyes shuttered and his jaw tightened. “I am. Was. Am. Not the big and bad part. Just the agent part.”

“So which is it? Am or was?”

“Was. I quit.” He pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it’s more like an extended leave of absence, but I have an open invitation to return anytime.” He sighed. “I got shot and decided to come home to recover. I have more time off than I need, I’m just not ready to—” He stopped and shook his head. “I’m healing nicely and boredom has set in.” He gave a small shrug. “I heard you needed help, I’ve got some medical bills to pay, so I’m here to apply.”

He’d been shot? How had she missed hearing about that one? No doubt because she lived like a hermit most of the time. She looked him over carefully. “You don’t look hurt.”

“It wasn’t a bad wound, and like I said, I’m healing. Actually, the shoulder is pretty much healed. I’ve done the physical therapy and I’m cleared to go back to work. I just don’t want to yet.” His eyes darkened and he glanced away. “Besides, hurt comes in many different forms,” he murmured.

Two Wrangler’s Corner police vehicles pulled to a stop in her drive, and she walked toward them, keeping her pace even, careful with each step. She recognized Trent Haywood and Parker Little. A third car pulled in behind them. Clay.

Clay stepped out of the third car and Becca kept her gaze on the man. Hurt comes in many different forms. Well, that was true enough.

Sheriff Clay Starke was her cousin. The one she’d chased around his parents’ ranch when they were kids, and the one who’d beat up the bully for her when she was in second grade. He was also the one who’d questioned her about a man who’d died of an overdose with her number in his cell phone and who’d gotten a warrant to search her place. Thankfully, as she’d expected, he’d come up empty-handed.

But still.

The anger and hurt were fresh and she didn’t know when she’d get over it. She glanced back at Nathan. “You’re hired.”

He blinked. “That was easy.”

“I need help and you want to work. I know you and I trust you. I was going to have to put an ad in the paper and start interviewing.” She grimaced. “I want to do that about as much as I want another fall. I’d be a fool to turn you down.”

* * *

I know you and I trust you.

Nathan stared at the bottom of the bunk above him, his mind spinning, guilt eating at him. Becca thought she knew him. She thought she could trust him. Little did she know she’d just let a spy into her midst. She knew he worked for the DEA and yet hadn’t thought twice about letting him onto her property or hiring him. That spoke volumes to him.

He grunted and rolled to his side, winced at the pressure on his shoulder and decided he was most comfortable on his back. God, I think I’ve managed to get myself into a mess. Please don’t let me do anything that’s going to hurt Becca. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, but Clay’s asked me to do this. And while I don’t think Becca’s guilty, if Clay says the drugs are coming from this area, then I need to find out. And find out if Becca’s gotten mixed up in the middle and doesn’t know it. He sighed. “Although, I’m guessing she might know it after today,” he muttered aloud. It had been a bold move for the masked man to attack her in the barn in the middle of the day. That very fact scared him. For her.

Which made him wonder if the failure to get what he wanted would result in the attacker’s return.

Nathan slapped the pillow in frustration. Sleep wasn’t going to happen. His nerves still jumped from his showdown with the man in the barn, his worry over Becca, and his desire to tell her exactly what he was doing sleeping in her bunkhouse and working at her barn.

He swung his feet to the floor and grabbed his jeans from the foot of the bed. So he’d tell her. Right now. Nathan glanced at the clock and winced. It was shortly before midnight. He’d have to wait until morning. She’d had a long day and needed her sleep. “And so do you, Williams,” he muttered. “Lights out.”

Nathan wasn’t sure how long he laid there, thinking, running different versions of a confession to Becca about his presence through his mind, but when the floorboard creaked, his eyes popped open. He lay still, barely breathing, not moving.

Another soft creak, the thud of a footfall. Someone was in the bunkhouse. But who? And why? It wouldn’t be Becca, she would have texted or called to let him know she was coming down.

Had her attacker returned after all?

Nathan sat up and reached for his gun.

TWO

Becca checked the clock once more and sighed. Midnight. She couldn’t get her nerves to calm down long enough to let sleep take over, which was why she now sat in the dark kitchen sipping hot decaf tea and looking out over her property. Jack lay on the floor at her feet, his presence a comfort.

The half-moon cast a faint glow and shadows danced in the distance. But at least the pain in her back had eased and she was able to move without the constant ache. Apparently, her attacker hadn’t done as much damage as she’d feared and she’d bounced back quickly. She just wished her brain could do the same. Unfortunately, the attack kept playing over and over in her restless mind.

Becca shivered and pulled the blanket she’d snagged from the den tighter around her shoulders.

Was he out there? She sipped the tea and took comfort in the fact that her Winchester .45 leaned against the wall nearby.

She still had a hard time processing that she’d been attacked. On her property, in her barn.

Anger mingled with remembered fear. She’d never felt afraid in her home before and now she jumped at every familiar noise.

The moment she’d heard the Updikes were selling the property, she’d known what she’d wanted to do. Her parents had balked. She’d been an equestrian champion as a teen, then graduated at the top of her class from medical school.

On the fast track to following in her father’s impressive footsteps, she was supposed to become a surgeon just like him and continue making them proud while giving them bragging rights at all of their snobby social functions. Well, her father anyway. Her mother hadn’t been quite as vocal—and wasn’t nearly as snobby.

And while Becca loved medicine and the thrill of helping someone heal, she’d also had other dreams.

Like a stable of her own. Riding lessons and trail rides. The squeal of children’s laughter. When she’d finally had the guts—and the means thanks to her grandmother—to chase those dreams, she’d done it. And since her father had paid all of her medical school bills, she’d had no debt to tie her down initially. She’d set up a stable, took advantage of the fact that she knew everyone in the equestrian business and built her clientele so fast it made her head spin.

However, she had to admit, her favorite part was her special needs riders. No amount of money, no ribbon or trophy gave her the satisfaction like seeing a child’s eyes light up while on the back of a horse.

Her eyes grew heavy and she drained the last of the tea from her cup. As she rose to carry it to the sink, a flash of light caught her attention. It came from the bunkhouse. Probably Nathan being as antsy as she. But she couldn’t help the sliver of uneasiness that inched its way up her spine.

Jack lifted his head, his ears perking, his attention on the door.

What if her attacker had come back? What if he decided to incapacitate Nathan while he slept and then came to find her? She tightened her jaw and went to slip her feet into the boots she’d left by the back door, being careful not to jar her back. “Come on, Jack, let’s see what’s going on.” Grabbing the rifle, she slipped out into the chill of the night with the dog at her heels.

* * *

Nathan had lost track of how long he’d stayed quiet, his fingers curled around the grip of his weapon. He kept his back to the wall, eyes on the door in front of him. The floor had creaked a couple more times, then silence. In spite of his pulse pounding and his adrenaline rushing, his senses were sharp, focused.

If Becca’s attacker had returned, Nathan was determined to make sure he didn’t get another chance at her. Although why would he come into the bunkhouse if he was after Becca?

Nathan moved to the door, his socked feet silent on the hardwood. He had a momentary memory blip of the crack house he’d helped bust two months ago and his breath caught. It had been a setup. They’d known he and his team were coming thanks to Sylvia’s betrayal. The only reason Sylvia and the others had been there was because the team had moved their timetable up three hours.

But the drug dealer had been prepared with a full arsenal of weapons and people to use them.

The bullet had come out of nowhere, catching him in the shoulder. He’d gone down in a blinding flash of pain and awareness that if he didn’t do something, he was dead.

Nathan swallowed against the memories. His blood roared in his ears as he planted his back against the wall and closed his eyes. He ordered his heart to slow while he focused on the present. Right now, he needed to figure out who was making the floors creak. The Glock felt comfortable in his grip.

A grunt and a sigh reached his ears. Nathan frowned. Not the noises of someone trying to be quiet. He stepped into the short hallway, grateful for the dim glow from the night light plugged into the outlet. He tried to stay in the shadows but knew if someone looked down the hall, at the very least, they’d see his profile.

The bunkhouse was fairly large, probably about a thousand square feet total. Three small bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and living area. He’d chosen the bedroom nearest the front door. The noises had come from the bedroom to his left. Nathan slipped down the hall, alert for any movement. A flashlight beam bounced off the wall to his right. It came from the bedroom where he’d heard the noises.

“Who’s there?” he called out, then moved into the bathroom located in between the bedrooms in case someone decided to shoot for his answer. Everything stilled. “Answer me.”

Light footsteps from inside the bedroom reached his ears. He hefted the weapon and aimed it at the door.

Which someone pushed closed. Nathan stared.

At the other end of the bunkhouse, the front door shut with a quiet snick. So quiet he almost wondered if he’d heard it. But knew he had.

He spun to face this next threat, his gaze bouncing between the entrance to the hall and the bedroom with the closed door. Light footsteps fell softly on the hardwood. He moved from the safety of the bathroom and into the hall that led to the large living area and the front door. He peered around the edge and saw a dark shadow moving across the floor toward him. He swung his weapon up. “Freeze.”

* * *

Becca froze. “Nathan?”

“Becca?” His arm lowered the weapon away from her. His shoulders relaxed a fraction in the dim light.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered. Jack bounded up beside her and she placed a hand on his head. “Jack, shh!” He settled at her side.

“Someone’s in the room at the end of the hall,” Nathan said.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I was getting ready to find out when I heard you sneak in. Why didn’t you knock?”

“I saw lights flickering and thought I saw someone sneaking around the bunkhouse. I wanted to make sure you were all right without letting whoever was here know that I saw him.”

They kept their voices low as they moved toward the hallway that would take them to the back bedroom. Nathan stopped. “Stay here,” he whispered.

“No way.”

“If someone starts shooting, I don’t want you in the way.”

She hefted the rifle in her right hand. “Thanks, but I know how to take care of myself. Let’s figure this out together.”

She thought she heard, “Stubborn woman,” before he moved to the door and stood to the side. He lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles on the wood. “Open up and come out! Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Silence.

Becca frowned. Who could be in there? Why would her attacker go in the bedroom and shut the door?

The mental light went on. “Wait a minute,” she whispered. “I know who’s in there.”

“Who?”

“Brody MacDougal. We call him Brody Mac.”

“Who’s that?”

“One of my lesson students turned volunteer turned part-time worker.” She moved around Nathan and reached for the knob. “Brody Mac? Is that you in there? Come on out, hon, this is Becca.”

Shuffling sounded from inside. Slow, soft footsteps made their way to the door. The knob turned slowly and she moved back. Nathan caught her by the upper arms and she paused, waiting.

The door opened and Becca tensed. “Brody Mac?”

“Becca?” He had a deep but gentle voice.

Her muscles relaxed and she stepped into the doorway. She looked up. At six foot three, he had the build of a linebacker, the heart of a marshmallow and the mind of a ten-year-old. Brody Mac’s head hung low and he peered at her through his lashes. “Hi, Becca.”

“Brody Mac, what are you doing coming in here at midnight and scaring everyone?”

He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shuffled his feet. “I didn’t have nowhere else to go.”

“Anywhere,” she corrected automatically.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I meant.”

“Come out here and sit down for a minute, will you? I need to get my pulse back under control.”

Brody Mac stepped into the hall and spotted Nathan. He gasped and ducked back into the room, ready to shut the door. Becca followed him before he could. “Brody Mac, this is my friend, Nathan. Get back out here and meet him, will you?”

“Is he going to shoot me? I saw his gun.”

“No, of course he’s not. I have my rifle, too, but no one is going to do any shooting, okay?” She noticed Nathan had the weapon out of sight and was walking toward the seating area in the large room.

Brody Mac exited the bedroom, his tentative footsteps snagging her heart. She held out a hand and he took it, his palm dwarfing hers. She led him to the sofa where he sat down and released her hand, keeping his gaze on Nathan. Jack bounded over to him and licked his wrist. Brody Mac laughed and scratched the dog’s ears. “Hi, Jack.”

Becca patted his arm, pulling his attention from the animal. “This is Nathan Williams. Say hi.”

“Hi,” Brody Mac said. He extended his arm but then pulled it back. Nathan held his hand out and waited. After a brief hesitation, Brody Mac gave a small smile and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Brody Mac,” Nathan said. “I didn’t mean to scare you with the gun. I’m a cop.”

Brody’s almond-shaped eyes went wide. “A cop? For real?”

“For real.”

“That’s super cool. I like cops. They keep me safe.”

“Yeah,” Nathan said, his voice soft. “We sure do try to do that.”

“Now,” Becca said, “tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I had to leave home.”

“Why?” she asked, but had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“This afternoon, Daddy came home and started yelling ’cause the tractor wouldn’t start. Mama told me to go find someplace to stay. I was at the library for a long time then I walked here. I got lost a couple of times so I had to go home and find the way through the woods. That’s why I got here so late.”

Becca rubbed her eyes and glanced at Nathan. “There’s a shortcut between his land and mine.” To Brody Mac, she said, “Are your things still in the bedroom?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. You know you can stay here.”

Nathan lifted a brow at her and she shrugged. “His daddy’s not such a nice person, but Brody Mac here is a great guy.”

Brody Mac shuffled and rubbed the palms of his hands up and down the sides of his legs. “But my daddy doesn’t like me. He says I’m stupid.” His lower lip quivered. “I’m not stupid, am I, Becca?”

Rage at the man’s careless and needless shaming of Brody Mac burned in her heart, and her tongue wanted to blast the man. With effort, she controlled both and forced a smile. “Of course, you’re not stupid. I know he’s your daddy, but sometimes daddies are wrong,” she said. “About a lot of things.” She looked at Nathan. “Brody Mac’s a hard worker and helps out around the ranch when school’s not in session. He lives here in the bunkhouse during winter break and the summer.” She bit her lip and studied her friend. “Looks like you might need to move in a little early?”

“Can I, Becca?”

“May I.”

“Okay. May I? I’m almost done with school this year. I graduate in—” Brody Mac screwed his face up, then shrugged “—three weeks, I think. Just in time for Christmas.”

“Something like that,” Becca agreed.

“They have graduation in December?” Nathan asked.

Becca smiled. “This school does.”

“I would have graduated in May, but they let me stay until Christmas. I’m twenty-one.” He clapped his hands and grinned. “I’m all legal now.”

“Congratulations,” Nathan said.

“Thanks.” Brody Mac grinned.

Becca stood. “All right, big guy, you’ve got three more weeks of school so that means getting up and getting there on time if you spend the night here. Can you do that?”

“I can. I can do it. I have my alarm clock by my bed. I can set it and everything. I’ll show you.”

“I believe you.” She settled a hand on his massive shoulder. “All right, be sure to tell your mother what you’re doing. She can choose whether or not to fill your father in. As for getting you to school, you can use the moped to get to the bus stop. You know where it is.”

“Thank you, Becca.”

“Sure, and just remember—”

“Roll the moped outta the barn so I don’t scare the horses when I turn it on. I promise.”

“Right. You’ll do great.”

He looked at Nathan. “I learned that last summer.”

Becca couldn’t help the slow curl of her lips. “The hard way.”

Brody’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yeah. The hard way.” He rubbed his nose. “I don’t think that horse likes me anymore.”

“He likes you. Be sure to take the lock so you can chain up the moped.”

“I will. Becca says some people have sticky fingers,” he told Nathan. Then looked at his hands. “My fingers aren’t sticky.” He wrinkled his nose. “They only get sticky when I eat pancakes and ice cream.”

Becca could see Nathan fighting a grin and something inside her shifted. He’d been her best friend growing up, the brother she’d never had and always wanted. Only right at that moment, she saw him in a different light.

And it wasn’t as a brother.

She cleared her throat. “It’s been a long day, guys. I’m heading to bed. Brody Mac, Nathan is staying here, too, so please don’t use all of the hot water in the morning, understood?”

“Understood.” He nodded then frowned. “You think my mama’s going to be all right?”

“She always has been.” Why the woman put up with her husband who took off for weeks on end then came home to drink and verbally abuse her and Brody Mac, Becca would never understand. But she could give Brody Mac a safe place to stay and make sure he had a full belly every day until his father decided to leave again. She ushered Brody Mac back to the bedroom. “Get some sleep, all right?”

“Thank you, Becca.” The gentle giant hugged her, and Becca felt her throat grow tight as tears threatened. How anyone could be mean to this man-child was beyond her understanding. He shuffled into the room and shut the door.

“I’ll get Clay to send someone out to his house tonight to check on his mother,” Nathan said softly when she walked back into the den area.

“That’d be good,” Becca agreed. “I can call her, too, and let her know where he is for tonight. Brody Mac’s father isn’t violent—not in the sense that he uses his fists on anyone. At least I don’t think so. But he’s sure got a mouth on him. Last time he was home, he came looking for Brody Mac and he and I got into it. He threatened to see me ‘get mine’ if I kept interfering in his family business.”

Nathan stiffened. “What did he mean by that?”

“I have no idea and I didn’t ask. I just wanted him off my property ASAP.”

“I see. So why does he care where Brody Mac is if he just wants to belittle him?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it’s because Brody Mac is his. His to boss around, his to be mean to. He wants to control him and make him feel stupid while making himself feel powerful. It’s how he gets his kicks.”

“Sad.”

“I know. And it’s the same way with his wife. She’s not exactly a mouse, but I think she’s afraid of him—and he leaves her alone for extended periods of time so I think she just puts up with it when he’s home and sighs in relief when he’s gone.”

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t understand people like that. Even though I’ve worked with them and arrested a few, I just don’t understand them.” He paused. “Do you think that could have been him in the barn? The one who attacked you?”

She thought about it and shivered. “Maybe. But, like I said, as mouthy as he can be, I’ve never heard of him hitting or hurting anyone. I guess there could always be a first time, but I couldn’t say for sure it was him in the barn.”

“I’ll get Clay to check into the man’s whereabouts during the time of the attack. What’s his name?”

“Jeff MacDougal.” She gave a slow nod and picked up her rifle. “Checking his whereabouts during the attack might be a good idea.” She frowned and looked at him.

“What is it?”

“I’m glad you’re here, Nathan.”

He blinked and his jaw tightened. “Why’s that?”

“Mostly because it’s good to see you, but I can’t deny that having you here will let me rest easier.” She walked to the door. “But I’ll warn you. If Brody Mac’s dad knows he’s staying here—and he’ll probably guess he is—he’s likely to show up.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “Then we’ll be ready.”

THREE

Early the next morning, Nathan stood in the door of the bunkhouse and watched Brody Mac leave on the moped. He liked the guy and was grateful that he hadn’t used all the hot water just as he’d promised. He’d even cleaned up the sink and set out clean towels for Nathan. A roommate Nathan could appreciate. Unlike the guy he’d shared a dorm room with in his sophomore year at Vanderbilt. Nathan grimaced at the memory.

Turning slightly, he could see Becca out in the pasture filling up water troughs for the horses. She moved slow and a little stiff and he figured her back was bothering her. Nathan slipped on a pair of work gloves and headed out to help her.

As he walked down the dirt path that led to the pasture, a truck rumbled up the drive and pulled to a stop at the barn. Jack barked twice, then went to greet the newcomer.

Becca looked up, then set her bucket on the ground and pressed a hand to her back. “That’s Zeb,” she called. “Tell him I’ll be there in a second, will you? I have two more troughs to fill.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

She waved a hand. “I’ve got it.”

“Becca—”

“I’ve got it. Thanks.” She picked the bucket up and headed for the next trough.

“Stubborn woman,” Nathan muttered as he headed toward the truck. A man in his early thirties climbed from the driver’s seat. His stylishly-cut sandy brown hair dipped into his eyes.

Nathan nodded to the stranger. “Hi, there. I’m Nathan Williams.”

Dark brown eyes met his and the man held out his right hand. “I’m Zeb Culbreth, Becca’s vet. You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“Just to the barn, but I was born and raised in Wrangler’s Corner.”

Zeb nodded. “I haven’t lived here long myself. I moved here a few months ago when Aaron Starke hired me to work with his veterinarian practice. It’s a friendly place and I’ve been making friends ever since, but I knew I hadn’t met you before. Where’ve you been?” He smiled and Nathan couldn’t help but like the guy.

“Nashville. I moved back here about a week ago,” Nathan said.

“What was in Nashville?”

“Work, mostly. I decided I needed a break so came home while I try to figure out my next step. Becca hired me to help her out around here.” It was true enough.

“Good for her. It’s about time she hired some help. She’s needed it ever since her accident and hasn’t had enough of it. Her neighbors to the left are the MacDougals and they have their issues.”

“Yeah, I’ve met Brody Mac.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“Actually, he’s a man.”

Zeb blinked. “Yeah, I guess so. Seems more like a kid, though. Anyway, her neighbors to the right are the Staffords. Jean and Hank pitched in quite a bit right after her accident and still check in on her.”

“The Staffords? Are they new to town? I thought the Howards lived there.”

“The Howards moved a little over a year ago, and the Staffords moved in about six months ago. Nice people. Jean used to do some pro equestrian work. Was in shows and everything. So she and Becca hit it off famously.”

Nathan shot a glance and a scowl toward the MacDougal farm, then turned his attention back to the vet. “It’s nice to know Becca’s got at least one good neighbor.”

“Yep. Of course, her cousins pitched in almost immediately after her accident—and they’d still be right over if she asked, but they’ve got their own businesses and whatnot and had to get back to them once Becca was on her feet again.”

“And I feel sure Becca’s not going to ask.”

Zeb’s eyes narrowed. “You know her well?”

“We were in high school together and were good friends before she moved to Nashville.”

But this guy had only known her a few months and he sure had a lot of information on her. Had the man done his own research or had Becca shared it all with him?

A surge of jealousy flickered through Nathan and he shoved it away. He didn’t have any right to feel jealous. She had moved on with her life and that was the way it was supposed to be. It was a small town and people talked. A lot. It wouldn’t take Zeb long to get the scoop on Becca if he asked all the right questions. And besides, Nathan didn’t have any interest in resurrecting feelings she didn’t return.

Better to keep a protective barrier erected around his heart this time. Once she found out what he was up to, she’d hate him forever anyway. He did find it interesting that there’d been no mention of her parents helping or even visiting.

He couldn’t help wondering where they’d been during such a hard time for her and what kind of severe falling-out would keep them from putting their anger aside to come to their daughter’s aide. Surely her leaving the medical profession wasn’t justification for cutting her out of their lives, was it?

He wanted an answer to that, but he wasn’t going to ask Zeb. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to check on Pete, the horse that threw Becca.”

“What caused him to do that, anyway? Becca’s been on horses her entire life. I can’t see her getting thrown—especially by a horse she knows very well.”

“Even the most experienced riders can get thrown, but I know what you’re saying. It does seem strange. Everyone still talks about her awards and everything. She’s made the town proud. Well, until the drug rumors started.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors.” And he didn’t want to discuss that either, but if he was here to investigate...“What do you think about those rumors? Any truth to them?”

“That Becca’s involved?”

“Yeah.”

The man scowled. “Absolutely not, so don’t go saying she is or asking questions, understand? No need to get that all stirred up again. Not that it’s exactly died down yet, but still...”

Nathan raised a brow at Zeb’s quick defense and lifted his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t stir that up.” Interesting. The man’s instant defense of Becca sparked his curiosity. But he’d think about that later. “So what about Pete?”

“From what I can tell, poor Pete had an abscess up under his hoof and was in major pain. When she tried to jump him, he balked.”

Nathan nodded. “Makes sense. Just a freak accident, then.”

Zeb shot him a funny look. “Yes, why? Is there some reason you think it wasn’t?”

Nathan shrugged. “Nope. Guess not.”

“Hi, Zeb, glad to see you here,” Becca said as she joined them.

“No problem. I heard you had some commotion out here yesterday. Are you okay?”

Her smile flipped. “I’m doing fine. People in town are talking, huh?”

“Of course. When anyone mentioned it to me, I told them to get the facts before they opened their mouths.” He shrugged. “Some will, and sorry to say it, but some won’t.”

“I know. The fact is, I was attacked in my barn and Nathan here scared him off. Probably some junkie looking for something to sell.”

“You need security out here,” Zeb said. “It’s not safe. Especially since your two helpers had to quit.”

Becca frowned.

“What are you talking about?” Nathan asked.

She sighed. “I had two teenagers working for me, but...”

“But what?”

“But Clay came out to search my ranch for drugs because he found my cell phone number on a dead man’s phone.” Her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. “That’s not exactly confidence inducing for the parents who were allowing their kids to work for me, so they made them quit.”

Nathan winced. “Ouch.”

“Yes.” She shrugged and looked at Zeb. “I’m safe enough. Yesterday was a fluke. Nathan’s living in the bunkhouse for now, and Brody Mac will soon be here for winter break. I’ll be fine.” She nodded toward the barn. “You know where the horses are. How long do you think you’ll be?”

“A few hours. But I won’t get in the way of anyone you’ve got coming in.”

“Great.”

Nathan handed her the cell phone he’d found on the table in the bunkhouse. “Are you looking for this?”

She rolled her eyes and took it. “Thanks. I’m always looking for that.”

Zeb gave her a salute and headed off to do his job. Nathan looked at her. She had a streak of dirt across her forehead. “How’s your back?”

“Hurting a little.”

“I thought so.”

She gazed out over the pasture. “It’s not terrible, but I guess I’ll take you up on your offer to finish up out there. Four horses are in the north pasture and I need them brought down. I need to conserve my strength for this afternoon, so I’m going to go sit and pay bills.”

“What else is on the schedule today?”

“A special education class from the elementary school is coming out for a tour and some pony rides. There are six students and three teachers.” She pressed a hand against the side of her head and looked around. “I should have put up some Christmas decorations to make the barn look more welcoming, but I just haven’t felt up to digging them out.” She sighed. “Oh well, I guess it doesn’t matter. It won’t affect the riding. After they leave, I have a physical therapy appointment then lessons this afternoon. One group lesson and two private.”

“Head’s hurting, too, huh?”

“I’ve had the occasional migraine since the fall.”

Her grudging admission sparked his curiosity and he wondered why it was so hard for her to ask for help. “Is this one of those occasions?”

“Looks like it’s going to be.” She grimaced.

He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the house. “Go, forget the bills, take some medicine and lie down for a bit. I can handle things here.”

“But—”

“I grew up on a horse ranch, just like you. I know what to do.”

She sighed. “I know you do. Okay.” She started toward the house, then turned back. “But promise you’ll come get me if—”

“I promise. Go.”

She went.

“I know you said you went to high school together, but do you have a history beyond that?” Zeb asked.

Nathan spun to find the vet behind him, wiping his hands on a cloth. “A history?” He shrugged. “No. Why?”

“Because I’m interested in her and wanted to make sure you weren’t the competition.”

Well, he’d thought he liked the guy, but Nathan had to bite his tongue on the first words that wanted to slip out. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and smiled even while he reminded himself that he wasn’t interested in Becca. “No competition here,” he said. “I’m just the hired help.” Becca had a mind of her own. If she chose to date the vet, Nathan wouldn’t get in her way.

Much. Maybe.

Zeb held up a hand. “You’re sure? I mean, I’m only asking because I don’t want to interfere. Just tell me the word and I’ll keep everything strictly professional with her.”

Okay, so maybe the guy wasn’t so bad after all.

“There’s nothing between us,” Nathan said. “Nothing but friendship.”

Liar, his heart whispered.

* * *

Becca wasn’t sure how much time had passed from the moment she took the migraine pill to her roll over to look at the clock, but she thought it might have been about an hour and a half. She was just grateful the pounding had eased to a dull throb and the nausea had faded. Her back even felt much better. She eased her way from the bed and into the bathroom. One glance in the mirror made her grimace. She might feel better, but she looked like she’d been run over by a truck.

She washed her face, brushed her hair and her teeth and decided she wouldn’t scare the children too terribly bad.

And what about Nathan?

Why did she care? She sighed. Because she did. Ever since he’d rescued her in the barn, her heart had started doing strange things around him. Things she didn’t have time to investigate but found herself wishing she did.

A knock sounded on her front door. Becca slapped a hat on her head and made her way down the hall and into the foyer. She almost opened the door without looking but thought better of it. Glancing out the side window, she saw Nathan standing on her porch.

Tall, good-looking Nathan, with a dimple in his right cheek and shoulders just made for nestling against. She swallowed and wondered what was wrong with her. She’d never thought of Nathan in that way before. Why start now? Refusing to dwell on her crazy thoughts, she yanked the door open. “Hey.”

“Are you feeling better? Your guests are here.”

“I’m better, thanks.”

“I’ve got Mason and Dixon saddled up and ready to go. You had them listed next to the kids’ names on that clipboard in your office.”

She wanted to hug him. “You’re an answer to my prayers, Nathan Williams.”

He flushed, endearing him to her even more. He ducked his head in exaggerated embarrassment. “Aw shucks, ma’am.”

She swatted his arm and shut the door behind her. One glance at the sky spoke trouble. Clouds hung heavy and low. “It’s going to storm.”

“Yep.”

“Well, let’s do what we can do while we can do it. Once lightning starts, we’ll have to close up.”

Becca stepped out of her house and headed toward the group of kids. One of her greatest pleasures was helping the little ones ride. She gave the group of students and teachers a wide smile. “Welcome to Priceless Riding School. It looks like it’s going to rain, but does anyone want to see if we can beat the storm and get some riding in?”

Five hands shot into the air. One young little girl, about eight years old, ducked behind one of the adults. Becca smiled. She hoped the child would watch her classmates having fun and decide to give it a try, but she wouldn’t push her. “All right then, let’s go out to the arena and do some riding.” She glanced around and prayed whoever had attacked her the day before was long gone. She shivered at the memory but refused to let it ruin her day. With Zeb and Nathan nearby, everyone should be plenty safe.

Two hours later, the rain started with large drops, but the children had all ridden several times. All except the little girl. She’d watched and cheered for her friends but refused to get in the saddle herself. Maybe another day. Becca ruffled the girl’s blond curls and led the group into the barn. Everyone laughed as they dashed for cover.

Nathan had the horses and Becca herded the children into the large room she’d set up for birthday parties and other fun activities. Today, they’d have snacks and drinks and restroom breaks. Crayons and pictures of horses were set out to be turned into masterpieces.

“Thanks for doing this, Becca.” Sharon Hyatt, one of Becca’s friends from high school, sidled up beside her. She also boarded a horse at the barn.

Becca smiled. “My pleasure.”

“We almost cancelled, you know.”

“What? Why?”

Sharon shrugged. “Because of what happened yesterday—and the rumors that the sheriff actually got a warrant to search your property for drugs.”

“Right. Well, those aren’t rumors, they’re facts. He did search it.”

“I told the powers that be if there was any danger, you would have called, and that if there were any drugs, the sheriff would have found them. But I didn’t see any point in cancelling. They didn’t like it much, but they like me, so...” She shrugged.

“Thank you for defending me. Yesterday was just a fluke thing.” She hoped. “Someone looking for something to sell—or the drugs I’m rumored to have on the property. I just happened to be in the barn at the time he came looking.” She forced a smile to stiff lips. “There’s no danger here.” Please God, let that be true. “And there are no drugs, absolutely none.” She knew that was true.

Why Donny had had her number in his phone, she didn’t know, and likely never would. Just a strange coincidence. Or maybe he’d called her about boarding a horse and she’d called him back.

She talked to a number of people on a daily basis—new people calling to ask questions about finding a barn or lessons she taught. She didn’t always remember their names. But it didn’t explain the other two times he’d received a call from her number. Or the text. It was just strange. The fact that he’d been in trouble with the law on drug charges before bothered her, of course, but there was no way to connect everything. And that bothered her, too, because she was probably missing something. But what? If Clay couldn’t figure it out with all of the resources at his disposal, what was she supposed to do?

“I’m going to come ride Lady Lou tomorrow afternoon,” Sharon said. She looked up and frowned at the overhanging clouds. “I don’t think today’s going to work, but tomorrow should. It’s been too long since I’ve given her a good workout.”

“She’s a gentle soul and was glad to see you today. Thanks for letting us use her for the kids.”

“Of course.”

Jack walked over and Becca scratched his ears, grateful that everything had gone well with no strange or dangerous incidents. It seemed since her accident, there had been a series of “mishaps.” The mower’s busted brake line, a missing feed bin she knew she’d just filled right before her accident, catching glimpses of strange lights in her barn but no one being there when she investigated. Just weird stuff. Nothing to be afraid of—except the attack earlier—but she had to admit, it was all starting to worry her. “I’m glad the kids were able to ride before the storm hit.”

Sharon nodded and stole a glance at the sky through the barn door. “We’d better get going, though. It’s just sprinkling right now, but the bottom is getting ready to fall out of those clouds.”

Within minutes, the adults hurried the children through the light rain and herded them onto the small bus. All except one. “Wait a minute,” Becca said, “where’s the little blond girl? Jessica?”

Sharon frowned and did a quick head count. “She must still be in the barn. I’ll get her.”

Thunder boomed and they flinched as they ran back to the shelter of the barn. “Jessica?” Becca called.

No answer. Sharon added her voice to Becca’s. Nathan stepped inside and shook his head. Water flew from his hair. “What’s going on?”

“We’re looking for Jessica.” Becca felt a flicker of worry. “Check all the stalls.”

Nathan frowned. “I’ll look around outside. She liked watching the horses in the pasture.”

“But it’s raining,” Sharon said, “she wouldn’t go back out in this.”

“Never know with a kid.” He ducked back out into what had become a downpour.

Becca turned back to checking the stalls. A horse’s agitated whinny brought her attention to the third stall from the end. She hurried to the door and looked in. Jessica stood there, pale and trembling, her terrified eyes locked on something on the ground.

Becca followed the child’s gaze and froze.

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