Cornered At Christmas. Barb Han

      “I cared.”

      “Actions are more important than empty words,” he stated. She wasn’t getting off this easily.

      Another gust of wind blasted against the kids’ window, and Kimberly looked like she was ready to jump out of her skin. It was clear to him that something had her spooked, but without any real answers—and she’d been dodging his questions so far—he couldn’t make a decent decision. And then there were the men who had been after her earlier. He’d noticed their intent and it had brought out his protective instincts before he’d confirmed she was his supposedly dead wife.

      Yet going with her on a whim seemed extreme.

      “Tell me why you’re running and who’s after you.” He decided to play along. During the time they had been together, he’d never picked up on a hint of her losing touch with reality. No matter what else he felt about her, he knew she wasn’t the type for drugs or alcohol. So if she was sane and not under the influence of any substance, he probably should at least hear her out. His heart clenched at the sight of her, and being this close without answers or explanations caused his fists to tighten.

      “I can’t.” Her gaze darted around like she expected someone to blast through a wall or window at any second.

      “Why are you really here?” he asked. Surely it wasn’t to save him and the twins from some unknown threat. That would mean she cared.

      “I already said.” She could be stubborn. He’d believed it to be sexy before. And, hell, it was now, too. Even though nothing in him wanted it to be.

      “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with the heifer we found near the base of Rushing Creek?”

      “No. These men wouldn’t touch your livestock.”

      “Tell me who’s after you.” Maybe he could put the pieces together to see if there was a connection. Or maybe she could tell him something that would make the killing make sense.

      “I can’t.” A look of something—such as frustration or fear—marred her beautiful features.

      “Well, then we don’t have anything else to talk about.” He faced her down, not budging an inch.

      “I leave here and they’ll show.” She glanced at the wrist on which she used to wear a watch, but there was nothing there. “It’ll happen and you won’t be prepared.”

      “You’re not giving me anything to work with. I can’t evaluate a threat if I don’t know what it is.” No way was he softening his stance. Of course he’d do anything to protect the little ones in the next room. And after her visit he planned to take extra precaution. But he wasn’t convinced that leaving the ranch was in the twins’ best interest.

      “I’m being honest. I can’t tell you who’s after me or why,” she said on a sharp sigh. It was more than she’d planned to say. He could tell by her tense body language.

      “How do you know someone’s targeting you then?”

      “It has to do with Randy Bristol, my foster father, but that’s all I know.” Thunder clapped and it got her feet moving into the babies’ room again. “I know you wouldn’t put either of these two in harm’s way, Mitch. Believe me when I say trouble is coming your way whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. That part’s up to you, but I can’t let them get to my babies.”

      “You lost rights to these two when you died,” he fired back.

      “It’s pretty plain to see that I’m still here,” she said.

      “Not in the court’s eyes,” he shot back.

      “Try and stop me,” she dared to say.

      “Take another step toward those cribs and I’ll do just that. Then I’ll call Zach.” He referred to his cousin, the sheriff, to rattle her. “He’ll arrest you, which is something you said you can’t afford.”

      She issued a sharp grunt but stopped. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

      “Try me.”

       Chapter Five

      Kimberly stared at Mitch. His set jaw and narrowed gaze challenged her. Her back was against the wall, because that look said he wasn’t going anywhere until she confessed. The only progress she’d made so far was the fact that he was listening to her.

      “Someone is trying to get rid of me. This is somehow related to my foster father, but I don’t know how or why. He warned me, sort of cryptically right before he supposedly drowned but was really killed, and then the deputy who interviewed me strongly insinuated that I benefited the most from his death. That night someone came after me directly,” Kimberly admitted, and it was like a huge weight lifted off her by being able to say those words out loud.

      He looked at her like she was crazy. She couldn’t exactly blame him.

      “I never knew you were in the system.” He paused a minute as though to let his brain click puzzle pieces into place. “You said your parents died when you were a teenager, and you had to spend high school living with a sick aunt who’d since passed away.”

      She shot him a look. “I’m sorry that I lied before. He is the only father I’ve known. It wouldn’t have helped if I’d told you the truth.”

      “How can you say that?” he shot back. “It seems to me that it matters a whole helluva lot that I had no idea who my wife really was and now my life is in danger.”

      How stupid had she been to think she could pull off a marriage and family when the creeps were never far behind? Granted she hadn’t known she was marrying one of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelors in Texas at the time. His downplayed clothing, calloused hands and rugged good looks made him seem like a salt-of-the-earth type, a cowboy and not a wealthy ranch owner.