Forever Hers
Also in the series:
SLOW BURN (book 1)
MINE UNTIL DAWN (book 2)
KISS ME CRAZY (book 3)
DANGEROUS LOVE (book 4)
Reproducing this book without permission
from the author or the publisher is an infringement
of its copyright. This book is a work of fiction. The names
characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to any actual events or persons,
living or dead, actual events, locale or
organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Firetrail Publishing
P.O. Box 3444 Logan,
UT 84323
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Copyright © 2012 E. B. Walters
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0983429758
ISBN-13:
978-0-9834297-5-3
§
Edited by Melissa Maytnz
Cover Design by Margaret McFarland. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
Whatsoever without permission, except in the case of brief
Quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Firetrail Publishing
publication: October 2012
DEDICATION
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This book is dedicated to my niece, Brenda
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
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To my editor, Melissa Maytnz, thank you for tweaking the plot
and streamlining the manuscript. To my beta-readers, Katrina Whittaker,
Jowanna
Delong Kestner, Toni Steiner and Julie Barrett, what would
I do without you guys. You are gurus at finding typos and inconsistencies,
going through the final product and giving it the stamp of approval.
I couldn’t have polished this book without your keen eyes. Thank you.
To my critique partners, Dawn Brown, Teresa Bellew,
Katherine Warwick/Jennifer Laurens, you guys are amazing at
removing the junk and being there when my muse goes missing.
We are more than writing partners.
To my husband and my wonderful children,
thank you for your unwavering love and support.
You inspire me in so many ways
Love you, guys.
Amy Kincaid gripped the steering wheel and glared at the police car pulling her over. Had her ex-husband found them?
She’d anticipated his every move, bought a used car in advance and stashed it at a public storage facility in the neighboring state. She’d also used cash since she and Raelynn left her hometown in Virginia. Even if he had found the car dealership she’d sold her car to, there was no way he could have traced their drive across the country.
Amy glanced at the back seat and sighed with relief. Raelynn was asleep, Mr. Rabbit, her favorite plush bunny, clasped against her chest. Her daughter often cringed whenever she saw a cop or even a police car. No child should grow up afraid, especially of the people who were supposed to protect them. And all because of one man—Nolan Reither—her ex and Raelynn’s stepfather. Amy would make sure her daughter healed.
The cop was still inside the squad car, probably running Amy’s plate. What if Nolan had discovered her new car and put an APB on it? The local police would contact his precinct and he’d fill them with lies. Cops had some kind of code they lived by, which made them stick together like Post-it pads. The same code had prevented them from believing her when she’d filed a spousal abuse complaint against Nolan.
Amy pulled out her fake ID from her wallet and the car’s registration from the glove compartment then studied her reflection in the rearview mirror. Everything was in place. Her light-brown hair didn’t show under the black wig and the brown contacts hid her blue eyes. She took a deep breath then pressed down the button for the window and went back to drumming her fingers on the steering wheel while watching the police car through her side view mirror.
You can do this, Amy. Be calm. Smile and act natural. You’ve been doing this for days now.
It seemed like forever before a female officer stepped out of the squad car and started slowly toward Amy’s.
“Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asked as she studied Amy then the sleeping child in the back seat.
Amy forced a smile. “No, officer.”
“Your left tail light is out. May I see your I.D. please?”
Amy handed over the fake I.D., smiled right back at the officer.
“You are a long way from Virginia, Mrs. Franklin. Moving to Sandpoint or passin’ through?”
Oh, she’d seen the suitcases in the back of her station wagon. Amy was tempted to ask her what a busted tail light had to do with where she was from. She swallowed her irritation and strived for civility. Her new job was outside Sandpoint, but her path and the cop’s might cross again.
“I’ll be staying,” Amy said.
The officer smiled. “Then welcome to Idaho. I’ll let you go with a warning, but take care of the light as soon as you settle in. Jack’s Auto is only a few blocks from here, and he’s the best. Tell him Sally sent you.” She smiled.
“Thank you, officer.”
“It’s Sally. Take care of the light or I’ll cite you next time, Mrs. Franklin.”
Amy let out a breath she’d been holding and relaxed her shoulder when the cop walked away. They had made it. They were finally free.
1
Amy hated carrying a gun around her daughter, but how was a single mother supposed to protect herself and her child? At five-foot-six, she’d need to grow at least four more inches to knee a grown man without falling flat on her butt. That left her with a Glock 19, except guns reminded her of her not-so-distant ugly past.
Creaks came from the back patio again and a bolt of panic rippled through her, locking her knees. Each heartbeat pounding like a sledge hammer at her temple, Amy held her breath and listened. Were they gone? Or were they waiting for her to come out? Since she arrived in this quiet town by Lake Pend Oreille, six houses had been burglarized, two on this side of the lake and four across it. She refused to let the bastards add her new home to the list.
Cocking the gun, she slowly crept out of her bedroom, one hand on the wall to steady herself, her feet dragging on the floor. It was dark, but after three months, she knew the layout of the house and could move around blindfolded.
She reached the end of the hallway and froze. Two figures shrouded in darkness were visible through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. They moved cautiously toward the door. Why the owners didn’t bother with draperies was beyond her. Then something else registered. The security lights weren’t on. They were supposed to turn on when someone stepped on the patio.
The sound of the dead bolt clicking as the burglars tried to open the locked door echoed through the silent room and Amy jumped. A rational part of her urged her to call the police and let them deal with this. The irrational part saw it as a cop out. The police had never been there for her when she needed them. No matter how scared she was, she had to take care of her family.
In the kitchen, she stayed low as she rounded the island, until she reached the light switches and flipped one up. Nothing happened. She tried the second switch and light bathed the side of the house. The beam of light didn’t reach the patio, but the two would-be burglars took off, their footsteps headed toward the front side of the house. Amy waited until the sounds disappeared, then she surged against the kitchen floor, her body shaking.
That was close. “At least the bastards know the house is occupied. Hopefully, they won’t come back.”
Hearing her voice made her feel better, but it wasn’t enough. She needed to connect with someone. Sighing, Amy reached for the phone and dialed Lauren’s number.
Lauren Holliday was her sorority sister and the woman responsible for Amy’s long drive across the country to Idaho. To safety. To freedom. Lauren owned Waterfront Resort Rentals, a company that managed summer and winter homes around Lake Pend Oreille and Schweitzer Mountain. Without Lauren, Amy would not be housesitting one of the homes now.
The phone was picked up after two rings. “Amy?”
“Did I wake you up?”
“At eleven? Nah. I’m still catching up on paperwork. Is everything okay?”
“Two guys were outside the house tonight,” Amy said, walking to the fridge for bottled water. Her mouth was dry. Fear often did that to her.
“Are you okay?” The concern in Lauren’s voice was genuine and Amy smiled.
“I’m fine. I have the Glock.”
“Told you it would come in handy someday.” The gun-loving Idahoan chuckled with glee. She had loaned the Glock to Amy and showed her how to use it. “Are you going to call the police?”
“What for?” Amy twisted the lid off the bottled water and took a swig. “I didn’t see their faces. They did something to the patio light bulbs. Probably smashed them.”
“You know, not all cops are like
him
.” Lauren’s voice softened and dropped an octave.
Amy chugged the water again and grimaced. Lauren knew most of the sordid details of Amy’s marriage. “I know.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No, I’m fine. I just wanted you to know in case they came back and someone got hurt,” Amy said, hoping she sounded confident. She must have because Lauren laughed again.
“That’s the Amy I knew in college. We should go out and celebrate your first vigilante showdown. My mom can keep an eye on Raelynn for the evening. We can hit the spa or catch a movie.”
The thought of leaving her four-year-old daughter with anyone filled Amy with dread. She wasn’t ready to trust anyone with her most precious possession. “I’ll think about it. Goodnight.”
“You’re hedging. Every time I suggest going out, you shut me down. It’s been a year since your divorce, Amy.”
Amy bristled at the subtle criticism. “So?”
“So there are men out here who would love to have a date with you. Nice men. Gentlemen. That super brilliant little girl of yours will need a daddy someday.”
“Whoa, Ms. Speedy. I’m not looking for a husband and Raelynn doesn’t need a father. The two of us are doing just fine. Oh, I think I heard her calling. Gotta go. Goodnight.”
“Chicken.”
Amy hung up before guilt set it. Lauren’s heart was in the right place and Amy owed her, but she could be pushy. Amy refused to be bullied into going out or rushing into anything.
She finished the water, put the bottle in the recycle bin under the sink and headed back to her bedroom. On her way, she checked the lights at the front of the house. The security lights turned on as soon as she opened the front door. At least they hadn’t smashed them too.
Amy tiptoed across the bedroom and opened the door to the adjoining room, where her daughter slept peacefully, thank goodness. The first month after they moved in, Raelynn had nightmares and woke up screaming. It reached a point when Amy just slept with her. But the past month, Raelynn had started sleeping through the night and in her own bed.
Amy slid under the covers and released a shaky breath. Times like this reminded her of things she’d rather forget, past mistakes she now regretted. She missed her life before Nolan, before she’d bought into his heroic persona. Amazing what a woman was willing to see when she was pregnant, alone and scared.