Seventeen
Whoever said mistakes don’t define a person didn’t have a clue. Holden Crawford stood over the petite woman curled in his bed, figuring that helping her would cost him dearly. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She’d already been in and out of sleep for a day and a half, and he was beginning to worry that she’d taken a harder knock to the head than he initially assessed. As soon as she woke and he made sure she was all right, he’d drive her close to the sheriff’s office. Then he’d disappear. Again.
Holden had recognized Ella Butler immediately when he saw her hiking. She was the daughter of the wealthiest man in Cattle Barge, Texas—a man who was helping Holden out while he needed a hand and a protected place to stay off the grid.
His daughter was trouble times ten. His best bet would be to leave her in the cabin with a few supplies and take off before anyone connected the dots that he’d been there. And yet, abandoning her while she was so vulnerable wasn’t something he could do. Even someone as hardened as him couldn’t walk away like this.
Holden ignored the annoying voice in his head that tried to convince him sticking around might be an option. His duffel was already packed and sitting next to the door.
He’d told himself that staring at the wavy-haired beauty as she hiked along Devil’s Lid was for survival reasons and not because those long, silky legs of hers were highlighted perfectly in pale pink running shorts. He’d needed to see if she would detour to the cabin on the outskirts of her father’s property where he stayed and expose his hiding spot. Hell, it had been his sanctuary.
Out of nowhere, her head had snapped to one side and then she’d lost her footing. She’d free-fallen a good ten feet before hitting the hard clay soil. She’d rolled another twenty before meeting an equally rough landing at the bottom of the gulch.
It had been no accident.
At that point, Holden had had two choices: help or walk away. Tracking the responsible party hadn’t been a serious consideration, although Holden didn’t doubt his own skills. It was more important to make sure she was safe first. But there was a problem with helping her.
Ella Butler was news.
If it hadn’t been ninety-five degrees at eight o’clock in the morning, he would’ve cleaned her wound and then left her with a couple of water bottles for when she woke. August weather was too unforgiving to leave her stranded and the gash on her head was serious. Holden had had no choice but to bring her back to the cabin.
To complicate matters, she’d blinked up at him. He had to know if she remembered him when she woke because if she could give his description to law enforcement, the real trouble would begin.
Holden walked another circle around the room.
Questions ate at him. First of which, what kind of fool hiked alone in one of the most remote and barren places of the Butler property? There were all kinds of dangerous creatures out there, and he should know because he’d found a scorpion in his boot yesterday morning and had crossed paths with a coral snake by lunch. He recalled the childhood saying he’d been taught to tell the difference between a coral and a harmless snake with similar markings: red on yellow, kill a fellow; red on black, venom lack. This part of the country had no shortage of venomous creatures.
There were other concerns about leaving her alone. Did she know there was no ready water supply? He’d had to hike for miles to locate a decent place to dig to find the lifesaving liquid when he first arrived. Making the trek had become part of his daily routine after morning push-ups and was the reason he’d seen her in the first place. His daily schedule had been the dividing line between life and death for Ella Butler.
Holden had kept an eye on her to ensure that she didn’t get too close to his camp. The place sat on the westernmost boundary of the Butler property referred to as Tierra del Fuego, meaning land of fire in Spanish.
If he was being completely honest, he’d admit to being intrigued by Ella. He’d chalked it up to too many days without female companionship and his dread at realizing the time had come to move on from Cattle Barge.
He’d spent a little more than two years on the run. Two years of not speaking to another person. Two years of eating every meal by himself without anyone to share his life with. And yet in a strange way, Holden had felt alone his entire life.
Scouting a new location was a lot of work, but his diligence had kept him alive so far. He’d been on the move twenty-five consecutive months, never pausing for more than a pair of weeks in one spot. This was the longest he’d stayed in one place, and his instincts had told him that it was time to go even before he’d witnessed the assault.
The problem was that he liked Cattle Barge. Holden felt an unexplainable connection to the land. He’d let his emotions win over logic in staying on too long. He’d erred by not listening to his instincts. And there’d be a price to pay for that lapse in judgment, he thought as he looked down at her.
* * *
ELLA’S EYES BURNED as harsh light and a sharp pain in that spot right in the center of her forehead, like a brain freeze, nailed her. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blur. The outline of a very large man looming over her came into focus, causing very real fear to surge through her. Ella tried to force herself awake but darkness pulled. Her mind screamed to get up and run. Her limbs couldn’t comply and so no matter how hard she fought against it, her eyes closed and she gave in to sleep.
It was dark by the time Ella woke again. She vaguely remembered being helped outside to go to the bathroom once, or maybe it was twice, but then she might’ve dreamed the whole episode.
Glancing around, she tried to get her bearings. Her head pounded as she strained to figure out where she was. The bed was hard but comfortable. There was a blanket draped over her. It was clean and soft.
Instincts kicked in and she felt around to make sure she had clothes on. Movement sent shards of pain needling through her skin. A flicker of relief washed over her when she realized her shirt and shorts were on. The respite was short-lived. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness when she saw the silhouette of a man folded forward in a chair in the corner. Based on his steady breathing, she surmised that he was asleep.
Ella couldn’t make out his face from across the room but a warning buzz shot through her at the sheer size of him. Questions raced through her mind but she couldn’t bring one into focus. Exhaustion kicked in again and it felt like she’d run a marathon in the August Texas heat. All she could do was close her eyes and rest. So she did.
“What time is it?” Ella asked, unsure how long she’d dozed. She’d been awake for a few minutes, assessing whether or not it was safe to talk. The sun was up. Her thoughts had been engaged in a battle of good versus evil, debating the intentions of the stranger in the room. Eventually, logic won out. If this man had wanted to hurt her, he could’ve done so already. Still, she’d walk a fine line with him and make sure she didn’t provoke him.
“You’re asking the wrong question,” the strong male voice said—a voice that sent electric chills up her back.
“What should I be asking then?” She tried to push up to sit but her arms were too weak. The male figure made no move to help her.
“It’s Thursday.” He turned his back to her in a surprising show of trust and picked up whatever was on his plate. He popped something into his mouth. It must be what smelled so amazing. Her stomach growled despite being convinced that she wasn’t hungry.
She scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon while he wasn’t watching. Her vision was improving even though looking around still made her eyes hurt.