front of the fire? I can do the dishes later.”
She nodded, but he noticed she didn’t make a move toward the chairs near the fire. She stood waiting, as if frightened to step in front of him. He moved around the table and went to put another log on the fire. As the wood crackled and popped, he closed the screen and turned to face her.
Looking like a lost child, the bulky purple sweater covering her, Katherine sat in a wing chair with her legs curled up beneath her.
“Are you really divorced?”
“Yes. At the time I asked for the divorce, Sloan had another woman in his life.” She looked down at her hands in her lap while Colin listened. He noticed her nails were neatly clipped and she had long, slender fingers. “Sloan wasn’t in the public light then. I asked for the divorce at the right time and he said yes. I got the divorce as quickly as possible. He regretted it almost instantly. It seems he wants what he can’t have,” she added bitterly.
“I gave up any money from him, but I had a little money left from savings and I took that with me. At the time of the divorce Sloan’s parents were in Europe, or his father would have stopped him from getting the divorce. His father had political ambitions for Sloan long ago.”
His back warmed by the fire, Colin moved to a wing chair, turning it to face her. If she was telling him the truth, she shouldn’t be so frightened and she should go to the police and get help.
“Katherine,” he said gently, fighting the urge to touch her lightly, jamming his hands into his pockets instead while fire heated his side. “If Sloan has given you a divorce, he can’t force you to come back.”
A look of pain crossed her features and was gone.
“He’s a powerful man and his father is as well. They would bribe and pressure people to get what they want. He has friends in high places, friends at court. He’s bribed people before to get what he wants in business.”
“Then he sure as hell shouldn’t be elected governor.”
Her expression was pained. “I can’t fight him. He would turn everything against me.”
“It won’t look good to have it come out that he’s abusive or that he’s trying to force you to return. If those thugs following you take you by force, that’s kidnapping.”
She faced him with a steady gaze. “My father was sent to prison for embezzlement I have bad blood in my family, as Sloan has so often reminded me. We’re Old South with relatives who were in the Confederacy, so I was acceptable to his parents and in certain social circles in New Orleans, but Sloan has said he can make me look like the most evil bitch from a corrupt family. Now I have the baby to consider.”
As Colin swore softly, Katherine bit her lip and looked down, rubbing her arms again. He reached out to tilt her chin up, but the moment he stretched his hand out and lightly touched her, she flinched and jerked away. He put his hands into his pockets again.
“Katherine, I will never hit you,” he said quietly, silently cursing Sloan Manchester. “I have never in my life hit a woman. Not even in the line of duty.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at him and the fear dissipated in her expression. She bit her lip. “It’s an automatic reaction.”
He wanted to reach for her, to draw her into his arms and just hold her and reassure her that she was safe. The cynical side of him gave a silent laugh. Sure, Whitefeather, safe as a mouse in a building with a cat. Those three guys had not given up their hunt. The snow might slow them, but eventually they would find out who drove a blue pickup and where he lived. And they might do it in spite of the storm.
What was it about this woman that had brought out the protective instincts in him from the first moment he had seen her? She was almost as tall as he was, taller than nearly all the women he had ever known. She was independent, resourceful and capable of caring for herself. Capable of eluding the three hoods after her, so why did he have all these protective feelings on full throttle? And if she didn’t stir his protective instincts, she stirred his desire, which should have been even more unlikely in her garish makeup and baggy clothing. The fuzzy sweater looked like a molting bear. And she had to be six months pregnant!
Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “I think some lawmen I know would listen to your story.”
She shook her head. “Sloan’s got powerful friends. You’d be surprised what he can do. I used to think I could find protection from his brutality, but everyone covered for him.”
“He might not be so powerful here.”
“The first thing you know, I’d be whisked right back to Louisiana and placed in an institution and the public would be told I’m ill or mentally unbalanced. Sloan would manage it. I don’t want to go to the police.”
“All right, no police, but I think you’re making a mistake.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “I know what’s happened in the past when I’ve tried to get help.”
“How do you think you’ll get away from him?”
“I’m going to California where I have a friend who will help me. Sloan won’t find me there. It’s a matter of time. Once Sloan is defeated or elected, he’ll forget about me. If he’s defeated, it won’t help to get me back. If he’s elected without me, he won’t care what I do. Right now he wants me at his side. He thinks it will give the proper image for him. And he’s annoyed he can no longer control me.”
“Are you really divorced from him?”
“I’m telling you the truth. Yes, I am.”
“If you’re divorced, it’s a matter of public record and the reporters should have already picked up on his marital status.”
“He has contacts at newspapers and he can give them a story about my mental condition. It’s still early enough that he’s not in the limelight yet.”
Colin Whitefeather’s expression was a thundercloud that made her feel like running.
“I didn’t mean to bring trouble down on you and I’ll be gone tomorrow,” she said swiftly, trying to appease his anger. “Then those men won’t bother you.” Her pulse skittered as she watched him. He looked fierce and angry, and she had no doubts about his strength.
“They’ll find out who drives a blue pickup in this area.” The moment Colin said the words, she flinched as if he had struck her. “They can’t find us tonight. I can guarantee you that.” His gaze flicked over her figure again. “When’s the baby due? About March or April?”
“No. Actually, the due date is next week.”
“Next week! You don’t look that far along,” he said bluntly.
“That’s probably because of my height.”
He barely heard her answer. Anger rose in him, that she was being so careless about the coming event. “You shouldn’t be on the run. You need to be with relatives or a friend. You need to have a hospital lined up and not be racing across country with three goons chasing you.” As a cop, he had seen too much death and destruction. He had reached a point where he treasured birth and life, feeling a quiet joy with every foal or calf dropped on his place. He wanted to shake some sense into the woman, but the last thing this woman needed was to be shaken. She needed a loving husband’s strong arms and support. “Where’s your mother?”
“She died a year ago. I don’t have any family. But I’ll be all right. When the time comes, I’ll go to a hospital,” she answered stubbornly.
“Have you even seen a doctor?”
“Yes, I have regularly. I go to clinics in cities where I’ve traveled.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, your baby’s due—you’re not carrying any clothing except whatever you have stuffed in your big purse. What will you do for diapers and formula? You know