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Authors: Margaret Daley

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BOOK: Cowboy Protector
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He tapped lightly on a door then eased it open, peering inside.

“Is she here, Daddy?”

“See for yourself, munchkin.” He entered, stepping to the side so his daughter could glimpse her.

Hannah grinned and came into the room. “I’m Hannah, Misty. I hear you’ve been a brave little girl.” Crossing to the bed, she took the chair next to it.

Misty sat up, leaning back against the pillows, a pink satiny comforter pulled up over her hips. “Has Daddy showed you the horses?”

“I’ve seen some in the fields, but I haven’t seen any up close. Do you ride?”

The five-year-old nodded, strands of her long, black hair falling forward over her shoulders. “I have a horse of my very own.” Her mouth turned down in a pout. “I can’t ride now.”

Hannah slid a glance toward Austin, not sure what to say to that comment.

“You will when you get better.” He clasped the bedpost that supported the canopy. “Candy is waiting for you. I’m taking special care of her until you can.”

Misty’s warm milk-chocolate eyes lit at the mention of Candy. “I want to see her. I miss her.”

“I’ll arrange something later today. Maybe bring Candy up to the house and let you show Ms. Williams.”

“Oh, please call me Hannah.” She swiveled her attention back to the little girl. “And you, too, Misty.” Hannah was so much easier for her to remember to respond to than Ms. Williams. One of the toughest things she’d had to do was not to forget her new name, which was difficult since it was changing in some way about every six months. “I don’t stand on formality.” She looked again at Austin.

“We don’t here, either. Do we, munchkin?”

“What’s for-ma-now-tee?”

“Remember a few months back when we went to Grandma Kline’s house and had dinner with all those fancy dishes and white lace tablecloth. That’s formality.”

“Oh. I couldn’t talk at the table.”

Austin frowned. “Well, Grandma Kline likes things done a certain way. She never believed children should speak till spoken to.” He moved to Misty and ruffled her hair, then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” Then to Hannah, he said, “When you’re through, come to my office at the back of the house.”

“Will do.” Hannah scooted her chair up to the bed while he left the room. “Tell me about Candy. Why did you name her that?”

Misty bent toward her, cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth as if to impart a secret. “I love candy. I love horses.”

“That makes sense. I love candy, too. Maybe too much.” She patted her stomach.

“I ate too much once and got sick. Daddy told me too much of a good thing can be bad for me.”

“Yeah, he’s right.”

Misty’s pout returned. “I haven’t seen Candy in a long time. Daddy says she misses me. But I miss her more.”

Like I miss my mother and little brother
. All Hannah wanted to do was hug them again. She’d never let them go. She could still remember the fight her brother and she had gotten into the day before everything in her life had changed. She’d never really apologized and told him she was sorry, not face-to-face. A letter wasn’t the same thing.

Misty hung her head and twisted her hands together. “I miss Mommy, too. She’s with Jesus now.”

Hannah laid her palm against the little girl’s arm with the cast up to just below her elbow. “Honey, of course you do.”

Misty sniffled and knuckled her tears away. “I shouldn’t cry.”

“It’s okay when you’re sad.”

The little girl looked right at her with huge brown eyes, a glistening shine in them. “It makes Daddy sad when I do.”

Hannah’s heart cracked at the pain she heard in the child’s quavering voice. She leaned close to Misty as though telling her a secret. “I won’t tell if you cry when I’m with you.”

The little girl’s forehead crinkled, and a baffled expression entered her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell?”

“Nope. Sometimes girls just need a good cry. Men don’t always understand that.” She wished she had someone who would understand her tears. Someone she could explain the constant fear she lived with. But most people would never understand. Her life was the result of a split-second decision that had wiped everything she was familiar with away.

 

Austin stood at his large picture window in his office staring at the meadow where some of his horses grazed. He closed his eyes and a picture of Hannah Williams appeared—green eyes like two pieces of crystal, a sparkle in their depths, long, wavy hair the color of cinnamon and delicate features shaped into a beautiful countenance. The kind of beauty that screamed at him to run as fast as he could away from the woman. His deceased wife had that kind of beauty, and her restless spirit had driven her to lengths he’d never imagined when he’d married her.

When he glimpsed one of the mares teasing a stallion even with two fences and a road between them, he knew he wouldn’t hire Hannah, although Saul sang her praises. Pivoting away from the window, he kneaded the tight cords of his neck. Ms. Hannah Williams was hiding something. He felt it deep in his gut, a warning he wished he’d had before marrying Jillian. A bitter taste coated his tongue. His wife’s deceit destroyed any desire to leave himself open to that kind of betrayal. All he wanted to do was bury himself in his work and concentrate on Misty getting better.

The sound of his grandmother’s cane on the hall’s hardwood floor alerted him to her approach. He wiped his expression clear. Everything that had happened to Misty had exacted a toll on Granny, too.

She came into his office, a smile on her face. “I hope you hire Hannah.”

“I know Saul recommended her, but I think I’ll pass on her. We need someone who is older.”

“I would want her even if Saul hadn’t been the one to recommend her. I was going to escort her here to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with
Misty. I heard your daughter actually laugh at something Hannah said. Did you hear me? Misty laughed. I haven’t heard that sound in ages. I want that back in this house.”

So do I
. But if he hired Hannah, he’d go against his better judgment. “I don’t know, Granny. I think she’s hiding something.”

“Check out her other reference. But I’ve got a feeling about Hannah that has nothing to do with what my friend said about her. She’d be perfect for Misty. That child needs her.”

“Still…”

“All of us have something to hide from others. Can you honestly say you’re totally above board with everyone you meet, especially the first time?”

“Well, no.” He cracked a grin. “I at least wait till the second meeting before giving them my whole life history.”

His grandmother flipped her wrist, her palm up. “There. That’s my point. I’ll keep an eye on her, but you know I’m rarely wrong about a person and I trust Saul’s opinion. The Lord has sent her to us. I know it in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart.

“I’ll pray about it and check her other reference before I make my final decision.”

“That’s all I ask, Austin. I’ll go get her. Try not to scare her off.”

“I’ll keep my growl to a purr.”

As his grandmother left the office, Austin twisted back to the picture window. A snowflake cascaded down to the ground. Here it was the end of February and winter still had its grip on them, probably would for at least another month or longer. This was a busy time at the ranch with the births of the calves and foals. He still had a few more
people to hire for the spring and summer. He didn’t want to worry about who was taking care of his daughter.

Lord, if the other reference gives Hannah a glowing one then I’ll hire her. But if it’s less than glowing, I’ll take that as a sign from You to find someone else
.

A sound—a soft rap on wood—caught his attention, and he rotated toward it. His quick movement caused Hannah to step back, her body to tense, her eyes to widen. For a second fear flashed across her expression before she schooled it into a neutral one, the tension in her body melting away. His gut constricted as he sat and waved for her to have a seat in front of him.

“Hannah, is there anything in your past I should be aware of?”

TWO

S
crabbling for a safe answer to his loaded question, Hannah swallowed hard but kept her gaze trained on Austin, sitting behind his desk in his office. She wished she could share her past with someone because there were days the pain of loss beat her down, but that would be a foolish, dangerous move on her part. “No. I love what I do. My job is important to me.” Helping others was what kept her going on those days when thoughts of her past threatened to overwhelm her.

He nodded. “Do you have any questions about the job? About Misty?”

“She’s adorable, and I think I can help her.” The child was hurting physically, and emotionally, too. Although her mom was still alive, Hannah could identify with losing a mother.

“Then I’ll have an answer soon for you.” He stood, snatching up his set of keys. “A storm is moving in, and I want to make sure I get you back in time for your bus.”

Pushing to her feet, she started to tell him she could stay another hour and still get back before the bus to Billings left. She would like to spend some more time with Misty, but she was being dismissed. When she got back to Billings, she needed to look seriously for another job.

 

Later that night when Hannah finally fell into bed, sleep came quickly but so did the dream. Back in her rental house as if two years hadn’t happened, Hannah heard the crashing sound of glass breaking. The noise of footsteps.

They’ve found me!

The words screamed through Hannah’s mind, wrenching her from the nightmare that gripped her. Her eyes flew open, her limbs all tangled in something confining. Her thoughts jumbled, she fought for release. Frantic, she rolled, trying to get away.

The breath-jarring impact with her bedroom carpet totally woke her up. Her sheet held her prisoner in its snarled mess. Lying next to her bed, she shifted until she faced the ceiling and saw the lights from outside her apartment dancing on its spackled surface.

Drawing in deep gulps of air to calm her racing heartbeat, she tried to reassure herself that her nightmare hadn’t been real—at least not the part about her being tackled by some unknown assailant. But the break-in two years ago had been very real. Real enough for her to flee the town where the Witness Protection Program had settled her, and when her time to report in with the U.S. Marshals had come last year, she’d let it pass without calling. She didn’t know if the break-in had anything to do with her being in the program or not. She hadn’t waited around to discover the truth because if it had been connected she would be dead by now.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Slowly the thundering of her heart eased. But as she scanned the dark recesses of her room, she could imagine some henchman lurking in one of them, waiting to pounce. A shiver chilled
her. She dragged the tangled sheet about her shoulders and huddled under its warmth, wishing she didn’t have such a vivid imagination.

She didn’t have this nightmare much except when she planned to move to another location and for maybe the first week in the new place. But the trip yesterday to Bitterroot Valley and the Triple T Ranch had stirred up all her fears. Once she was settled she’d be okay—that was if Austin Taylor decided to hire her.

She had her doubts after the last meeting in his office and the silent trip back to Sweet Creek and the bus depot.

When he’d asked her if she had anything to hide, she’d hated lying to him, but how was she supposed to tell him that she had some evil people after her who would love to know where she was? Thankfully the nearly two years she’d been on her own without the Witness Protection Program, Devon Madison’s goons hadn’t found her because she was very careful. Staying in one place for three years could have possibly led someone to her front door. The key was constantly moving every few months, changing her name a couple of times, using cash and not leaving a paper trail in any name.

Finally rising, she shed her sheet and donned her lime-green terry-cloth robe. She needed coffee then a shower. She still had a job at Saul Peterson’s. He’d told her to stay until she found another one. But she couldn’t stay too long even if she didn’t get a job right away. She had some money saved, if need be.

After fixing a pot of coffee and pouring a mug full, she parted the drapes in her living room overlooking the street in front of her apartment building. Only a few inches, but enough she could check out the area. She often found herself doing this when she was home, a habit she’d
picked up early in the Witness Protection Program. One she wasn’t going to give up even if she felt secure in her new identity.

She usually peered up and down the road, searching for any car parked that didn’t belong. When she discovered one, she would note its tag number, description and keep tabs on it. She’d moved once in the middle of the night when a vehicle kept appearing out in front of her place. Discreet questions with her neighbors had left her puzzled with who was the owner of the Chevy. Later, she’d discovered quite by accident it was a man having a secret affair with a neighbor. That incident had reinforced her need not to panic, to use a clear-thinking judgment. Panic could lead to a mistake and, according to the man who’d helped her with her new identity in the beginning, could get her killed.

A sigh escaped her parted lips when she saw an empty street, except for a truck that traveled toward the east. The sky brightened to a rosy hue, splashing an array of colors from a pale baby blue to a lemon yellow. Time to get ready for work.

Taking several sips of her coffee, she surveyed the road one last time. A black Ford SUV drove around the corner and onto her street. It slowed and pulled into a spot across from her building. No one got out. She stepped back and farther to the side, then inched the curtains apart.

When ten minutes passed, she started to reach for her pad to write down the tag number, but a young woman came jogging down the sidewalk from the apartments across the street and slid into the passenger side of the SUV. It sped away.

Hannah collapsed against the back of the chair behind her, still clasping her mug between her hands. Would this constant fear ever go away? Probably not.

In her mind she truly believed that she was safe, but in her heart she couldn’t quite shake her gut reaction to different situations—like an unknown vehicle on her street. She had to continue to work on that, or she would never have any kind of life. Any kind of peace.

 

Hannah got off the bus in front of Mama’s Diner and hurried inside. She headed to a booth in the back near an exit and slipped onto the black vinyl cushion, worn in spots. Being a little late, she noticed the morning crowd was thinning. Her usual waitress gave her a smile, finished pouring some coffee for one of her customers, and then threaded her way through the maze of tables to Hannah.

“I thought maybe you’d taken a new job and had left Billings,” Olivia Jarrod said as she set a mug on the table and filled it.

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Olivia was the closest person to a friend she’d had in a long, long time. From the beginning two months ago when Hannah had come into the diner for breakfast before going to Saul Peterson’s around the corner, they had hit it off. It had been Olivia’s first day on the job, and she’d been nervous, making a lot of mistakes. A few customers hadn’t had much patience, but Hannah saw a person in need of a kind word. From that point on, she’d always sat in Olivia’s area, and her friend had sometimes been able to join her for a cup of coffee if the crowd wasn’t large. She’d miss Olivia. There was a connection with Olivia she couldn’t explain.

Her hands still cold from a north wind bringing frigid weather, Hannah wrapped them around the navy-blue ceramic cup. “Ah, this feels good. It’s cold out there.”

“Yeah, I’ve felt it every time the door has opened.” Her
friend looked around. “I’m due a break. I’ll join you for a few minutes while you eat. Your usual?”

“Of course. I hate change and what I eat for breakfast I can control.” So little else was totally in her control.

“Be back in a minute then.”

As Olivia made her way to the counter, she stopped and gave her last customer his check, then she proceeded to the kitchen. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail while her blue eyes always held a touch of regret. That look of vulnerability spoke to Hannah on a level that prompted her to tell Olivia her story. She couldn’t, of course, but the words had been on the tip of her tongue several times in the past couple of weeks when she realized she would have to move on soon.

“You look lost in thought.” Olivia placed before Hannah a plate with one egg over easy and some whole-wheat toast with honey on the side. “And those thoughts are sad ones.”

She smiled. “Who me? I’m heading off to a new adventure soon.”

Olivia slid into the seat across from her. “I don’t know how you do it. Picking up and going someplace new every few months. You seem to thrive on change whereas I don’t.”

She wished that really were the case. Hannah studied that sadness that gently etched her friend’s features with pain. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes, or why would you do it? You could stay in one place. There’s a need for experienced home health care providers in Billings.”

To stay alive, Hannah wanted to confide to Olivia. “What’s changing for you?”

Her friend bent forward, peering at the near-empty tables around them. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’ve never mentioned a man in your life. Is there a husband? Boyfriend?”

That pain magnified Olivia’s gaze even more. “I haven’t spoken to my husband in months and he doesn’t even…” Tears glistened in her eyes, making the powder-blue color stand out more.

“Know that you’re having a baby?”

Olivia nodded.

“Is it his?”

Her friend bit her lower lip, a tear leaking out and running down her pale cheek. Again she gave a nod.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Why haven’t you told him?”

“I can’t contact him. I can’t…” Her words came to a spattering halt. Fear chased away the pain for a few seconds. She quickly darted a look around the diner. “My husband didn’t want a child.”

Hannah straightened, all thoughts of her now-cool egg fleeing. “Did he abuse you? Are you running away from him?” She held her breath almost afraid of the answers.

“No, he never hurt me like that. He wouldn’t. He isn’t that kind of man.” She peered toward the customers still in the diner. “I’m gonna move, too. I want to settle in a smaller town before the baby comes. I love children and hope I can do something with them. I’d rather do something other than be a waitress. I’d better get back to work.” Olivia slid to the end of the booth and started to stand.

Hannah laid her hand over hers. “Don’t leave just yet. I think you need a friend right now. Let me be that person. Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“Does he have any idea where you are?”

Olivia shook her head.

“And you can’t give him a call?”

“I won’t force him into a life he doesn’t want.”

Hannah wanted so badly to help Olivia as best she could, to be a friend because she had so few since her plight five years ago. “It sounds like you still love him.”

Her tears swimming in her eyes, Olivia bowed her head. “Yes, but it’s too late for us.” She lifted her gaze to Hannah’s. “It’s best this way. I live my life and he lives his.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s irrelevant.”

Hannah could identify with that. Nothing she wanted was possible for her now.

Olivia rose. “I’m moving on to a new adventure as a wise woman once said to me.” A smile peeked through the sadness. “I won’t forget you. Who knows? Maybe one day we’ll run into each other.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Hannah wouldn’t ask Olivia where she was going, and she wouldn’t tell her friend where she was going. But before Olivia walked away, Hannah added, “You take care of yourself and your baby. I know you believe in the Lord.”

“Yes.”

“Then believe He’ll take care of you.” And Hannah prayed that were the case although in her own situation she had her doubts. She’d believed once, but now she felt abandoned, left like the Israelites when they’d wandered for years in the desert.

After Olivia returned to her waitress duties, Hannah quickly ate her cold egg and toast, got a refill on her coffee to go, then paid her check and left before she confessed why she moved around a lot. She hurried around the corner to Saul’s apartment and let herself in. The older gentleman sat in the living room with his coffee on the end table next to his lounge chair.

He dropped the newspaper he was reading, shaking his head. “It’s just not safe anymore. They still haven’t discovered who killed those three young women. Such a shame. I wish they would assign the story to Violet Kramer. She’d get to the bottom of everything. I’ve been impressed with her reporting lately in my hometown paper. But I guess there’s nothing this old bag of bones can do to change anything, especially since little information is being given out about the murders.” Saul folded the
Missoula Daily News
into a neat pile, then stuffed it in the trash can by his side.

Hannah shrugged out of her heavy overcoat and hung it up in the hall closet before sitting on the couch across from him. She’d heard Saul grumbling every time a murder went unexplained. He was a big mystery buff and wanted to solve each case. “I’ve read that the police like to hold back clues to help them apprehend the killer. That’s probably why we aren’t getting much on the crimes.” Personally she’d had her fill of anything having to do with murders.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” He beamed with a grin. “Your interview yesterday must have gone great. Austin called this morning when he couldn’t reach you at your apartment. He figured you were here working. He wants you to call him.” Saul dug in his shirt pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. “This is his cell number. He told me you could reach him anywhere with that. I hope it’s good news. I tried my best to convince him and Caroline you would be perfect for the job.”

“Thanks.” Hannah rose, took the note and retrieved her purse on the table in the hallway to get her cell.

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