and all coherent thought fled. Someone was in the house she had locked up securely and double-checked. And she was all alone.
She eased open the door, wincing as it creaked into the silence. She stopped, waited.
But as she listened, her ears hyperaware, she heard the sound of the floor creaking under cautious footsteps.
She might have a chance of getting out of the house. And then what? Run mindlessly through the yard as the intruder ran after her brandishing a knife?
Should she be praying right now?
If You help me through this, Lord, I’ll go to church, she promised, drawing in a long slow breath for courage. I can’t promise much more than that.
She paused, wondering if she would hear an answer. Then, realizing she couldn’t leave everything up to God, she slowly worked her way down the stairs, her hands clutching the broom in a death grip. She kept her back to the wall, her eyes darting around the gloom. The only things she could make out were the hulking forms of the couch and chair in the living room.
Oh Lord, I just want to get out of here alive. That’s all. Her prayer was instinctive but, at the moment, heartfelt.
The sudden flash of light blinded her. She held up her broom, took a panicked step toward the door and tripped over the hem of her housecoat.
This is it, she thought as she fell, a dark figure hovering over her. This is how it ends. In an isolated country house, in the middle of nowhere.
Hands caught her, hauled her up.
She made an ineffectual jab with her broom at the dark figure holding on to her.
“Hey, easy with that,” the intruder said, blocking her jab with one arm. “Someone could get hurt.”
Hannah blinked at the sound of the voice.
Ethan.
Chapter Five
“What are you doing?” he asked, still holding on to her.
She pushed at his hands, stumbled again as he let go of her. But as she regained her balance, fear gave way to anger.
“No. You don’t get to ask questions. I get to ask questions.” She blinked, her eyes adjusting slowly to the beam of light shining down on the entranceway. She dropped the broom and yanked on the ties of her housecoat. “And my question is, what are you doing here?”
“I forgot my coat.”
“But I locked the house.”
He held up a key chain. “Sorry. I have my own keys.”
Hannah’s overworked heart still hammered in her chest. “You shouldn’t do that. I thought—”
“You thought you were going to beat me to death with that broom.”
“That thought did cross my mind,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry.” Ethan’s smile faded away and Hannah felt a moment’s regret. She hadn’t seen him smile since the first time they had met on the street corner. “Did you really think I was burglar?”
He had adopted a more neutral expression, but she knew he was still laughing at her.
“What else was I supposed to think? Usually when a person locks their door, it stays locked.”
“And here I was worried about waking you.”
Hannah swallowed, her heart finally returning to a more normal rhythm. “Well, I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Coyotes keep you awake?”
“Was that what that howling was?”
“Yeah. They were actually pretty quiet tonight. Usually they’re singing all around the yard.”
Was she imagining it or did his voice hold an extra note of glee?
“I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” She didn’t have a choice now, did she? “So what did you want?”
“My coat.” Ethan slipped it over his shirt and shoved his hands in the pockets. “Sorry I disturbed you. I won’t do it again.”
His casual dismissal, on top of the roller coaster of emotions she had just endured, kindled her anger.
“Maybe you should give me the keys and then it won’t happen again,” she said.
Ethan stopped, slowly pivoted back to face her, his expression grim. “What did you just ask me?”
“I’m sure you heard me. You’re only a couple of feet away.”
Ethan closed the small distance and came to stand directly in front of her. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was almost succeeding. Almost.
“This farm isn’t yours. Yet. And if I have my way, you won’t be able to lay any claim to it. But until the title is transferred to your name, I have as much right to come and go in this house as you do. I’m sorry I scared you and in the future I’ll try not to disturb you. I’ll respect your privacy, but I’m not giving you the keys to my house.”
Hannah tried to stare him down, her anger with him shifting and settling. “Fine. But I’m holding you to the promise to respect my privacy.”
“You don’t need to. Unlike most women, I keep my promises.”
She didn’t know where that came from. “Then you are a rarity among men,” she snapped back. “A lot of the men I know don’t comprehend the meaning of the word.”
They faced each other down, their words heavy with unspoken meaning.
“I’ll leave the dog here for you. He’ll keep the coyotes at bay.” Then Ethan gave a short laugh, turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Hannah leaned against the wall, her arms and legs rubbery with delayed reaction.
“See,” she said to Scout, who was standing beside her, filling the ensuing silence with false bravado. “Nothing to be afraid of after all.”
Something warm was lying alongside her.
Hannah slowly opened her eyes, feeling disoriented. The room was full of light. The door was all wrong. Where was she?
She heard a light snuffle, then a sigh and her heart jumped again as she sat up, pulling her blankets up and around herself.
A pair of brown eyes, almost buried in long brown hair stared back at her. A pink tongue hung out of its mouth.
Scout. The dog angled its head to one side, as if studying her.
“I’m guessing you’re used to sleeping here,” she said, reaching out to stroke its head. “But I’m afraid that you’re going to have to get unused to this. I don’t share my bed with anyone, or anything. Period. You understand?”
The dog turned his head, as if listening for something only he could hear.
“More coyotes out there?” Hannah fondled his ears, smiling.
But the dog jumped off the bed and stood by her bedroom door, whining.
Hannah got up and checked her watch. “Six o’clock? Are you kidding me?” It was too light for six o’clock. It was too early for six o’clock.
She trudged to the door, opened it, and the dog scampered out of the room, his feet pounding down the stairs.
“Hey, there, Scout,” she heard Ethan whisper.
“You don’t need to be all quiet. I’m awake,” Hannah called, pushing down her annoyance that he had gained entrée into the house yet again.
“Good morning,” Ethan yelled from below. “I’ve just come to get my