a tired smile. “Look, I’ve got to pack and you’ve got to leave.” She walked to the front door, her movements graceful and fluid. Even if he hadn’t known she’d studied dance for twelve years, he would have thought she was a dancer. She carried herself with understated confidence that he’d always found alluring.
“I’ll leave when you do.”
“You don’t have to stick around, Ford. The marshals will be here any minute.”
“Maybe I should rephrase that. I’ll leave with you. I didn’t spend all this time searching for you to let you disappear again. Wherever you go, I’m coming.”
“You can’t.”
“Of course I can,” he responded. He’d been offered a place in the witness protection program after Martino’s men had nearly killed him. When he’d learned he wouldn’t be placed with Olivia, he’d refused. Finding her had been his first priority. His only one. Now his priority was making sure he didn’t lose her again. No one, not the Martinos, not the FBI and not the U.S. Marshals would keep him from doing that.
“So let’s say you can. That doesn’t mean I want you to.”
“You’d rather I let you face this alone?”
“I’d rather you’d stayed in Chicago. I’m sure your business is suffering without you there.”
“I don’t care about my business. I care about you.”
She laughed, the sound short and sharp. “We both know that isn’t true.”
“Olivia…”
A quick rap at the door interrupted his words, and Ford was almost glad. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many ways he’d imagined saying them. Somehow, though, none of them seemed like enough. Not to convey what he felt or to express his sorrow for the pain he’d caused Olivia.
She started toward the door, but Ford put a hand on her arm. “I’ll get it.”
He was a foot away when the door swung open and two men stepped inside. Tall and dark-haired, the older of the two flashed his badge. “I’m U.S. Marshal Sebastian James.”
“Ford Jensen.”
“And I’m Olivia Jarrod,” Olivia said, offering her hand to the tall, dark-haired marshal as if having marshals barge into her home was an everyday occurrence. For all Ford knew, it was.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Jarrod. Marshal McGraw said he’d contacted you about relocation?”
“That’s right.”
“Good. You’ve got ten minutes to pack a bag. Then we’ll head out. Mr. Jensen, you’ll be going with Marshal Louis. He’s going to escort you to Billings where you’ll be briefed to enter the witness protection program.”
“Sorry, but I’m staying with my wife.”
“Wife? You two are separated, right?” The second of the two men spoke up, his gaze shooting from Ford to Olivia and back again.
“We are,” Olivia said.
“We were.”
“Sorry to have to break off the discussion, but we’ve got to get moving. Headquarters wants you both out of Pine Bluff. The sooner the better.” Marshal James smiled but there was a hardness to his expression that Ford didn’t miss. He seemed on edge, his gaze darting from one corner of the room to another as if he expected to find danger hiding there.
“You think the Martinos know Olivia is here?” Ford asked, his muscles tensing at the thought. The men they’d sent to question him about Olivia had been more than willing to murder to get what they wanted. That knowledge had driven Ford from Chicago to Atlanta, from there to Maryland and finally to Montana following leads from the private investigative firm he’d hired to help him with the search.
“If you found her, someone else might. Better to relocate now than regret that we didn’t tomorrow.”
“I just need to pack a few things, and I’ll be ready to go,” Olivia said, cutting into the conversation and stepping toward the hall.
“I’ll give you a hand.” Ford followed, ignoring the hard look she shot in his direction.
“Thanks, but I’ve been packing for myself for a long time.”
“An extra set of hands will get it done more quickly, and I agree with the marshals. The sooner we all get out of here the happier I’ll be.”
“I’ll work more quickly without a distraction.”
“Is that all I am?” he asked quietly so that only Olivia could hear.
“We’re in a hurry, Ford. I don’t have time for word games or deep discussions about what you are to me.”
She was right. They didn’t have time to hash things out, but they would. There were things he needed to say, promises he still needed to keep. He’d been given a second chance. He wouldn’t waste it. “Go ahead and pack. I’ll wait here.”
She nodded and disappeared into a room at the head of the hall. He wanted to stand in the threshold, watch her pack and assure himself that she wasn’t going to disappear the way she had in December, but there’d been too many times in their marriage when he’d disregarded her feelings and ignored her requests. He wouldn’t do it now.
“Mr. Jensen, I’m going to put in a call to our Billings office. We may be able to get the okay to move you and Ms. Jarrod together. I can’t promise anything, though.” Marshal James pulled a cell phone from his pocket.
“It doesn’t matter what the Billings office says, I’m going with Olivia.”
“Look, I understand how you feel, but—”
Glass shattered and something exploded, the living room filling with smoke and flames. Thrown backward by the force of the explosion, Ford slammed into the wall, the breath forced from his lungs. If he was hurt, he didn’t feel it. All he felt was the panicked need to get to Olivia, to make sure she was alright. He scrambled to his feet, weaving a little as he moved into the hall.
“Olivia!” He shouted, the words lost in the crackle and hiss of the fire that was spreading toward him.
Olivia raced from the room, her face a pale oval in the thickening gloom. “What happened? Where are the marshals?”
“I don’t know, but we’ve got to get out of here. Is there a back door?”
“Through the kitchen.”
“Come on then,” he grabbed her hand, tugging her past hot flames and into the kitchen. He’d never been a praying man, had never believed in anything but his own strength and determination, but over the past few months he’d started doing what he’d never thought he would, asking for a miracle. He’d gotten it. He’d found Olivia. Safe. Alive. Was it too much to ask for more?
Please, just let me get her out of here.
He pulled her through the kitchen, opened the back door, inhaling cool, fresh air.
“Ford, no,” Olivia shouted. “They might be out there. Let’s wait for the marshals. They’ll know what to do.”
The marshals.
Ford hadn’t seen either since the explosion.
Were they alive?
He couldn’t leave the house without being sure. Couldn’t abandon two men to the flames.
“Wait here. I’ll go see if I can find them,” he said, stepping away from the door and the sweet promise of escape.
“You can’t go back in there. The smoke is too thick. You’ll never be able to find your way through it.”
“I can’t leave two men to die. Give me two minutes. If I’m not back by