Margaret Daley

Cowboy Protector


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lying to him, but how was she supposed to tell him that she had some evil people after her who would love to know where she was? Thankfully the nearly two years she’d been on her own without the Witness Protection Program, Devon Madison’s goons hadn’t found her because she was very careful. Staying in one place for three years could have possibly led someone to her front door. The key was constantly moving every few months, changing her name a couple of times, using cash and not leaving a paper trail in any name.

      Finally rising, she shed her sheet and donned her lime-green terry-cloth robe. She needed coffee then a shower. She still had a job at Saul Peterson’s. He’d told her to stay until she found another one. But she couldn’t stay too long even if she didn’t get a job right away. She had some money saved, if need be.

      After fixing a pot of coffee and pouring a mug full, she parted the drapes in her living room overlooking the street in front of her apartment building. Only a few inches, but enough she could check out the area. She often found herself doing this when she was home, a habit she’d picked up early in the Witness Protection Program. One she wasn’t going to give up even if she felt secure in her new identity.

      She usually peered up and down the road, searching for any car parked that didn’t belong. When she discovered one, she would note its tag number, description and keep tabs on it. She’d moved once in the middle of the night when a vehicle kept appearing out in front of her place. Discreet questions with her neighbors had left her puzzled with who was the owner of the Chevy. Later, she’d discovered quite by accident it was a man having a secret affair with a neighbor. That incident had reinforced her need not to panic, to use a clear-thinking judgment. Panic could lead to a mistake and, according to the man who’d helped her with her new identity in the beginning, could get her killed.

      A sigh escaped her parted lips when she saw an empty street, except for a truck that traveled toward the east. The sky brightened to a rosy hue, splashing an array of colors from a pale baby blue to a lemon yellow. Time to get ready for work.

      Taking several sips of her coffee, she surveyed the road one last time. A black Ford SUV drove around the corner and onto her street. It slowed and pulled into a spot across from her building. No one got out. She stepped back and farther to the side, then inched the curtains apart.

      When ten minutes passed, she started to reach for her pad to write down the tag number, but a young woman came jogging down the sidewalk from the apartments across the street and slid into the passenger side of the SUV. It sped away.

      Hannah collapsed against the back of the chair behind her, still clasping her mug between her hands. Would this constant fear ever go away? Probably not.

      In her mind she truly believed that she was safe, but in her heart she couldn’t quite shake her gut reaction to different situations—like an unknown vehicle on her street. She had to continue to work on that, or she would never have any kind of life. Any kind of peace.

      Hannah got off the bus in front of Mama’s Diner and hurried inside. She headed to a booth in the back near an exit and slipped onto the black vinyl cushion, worn in spots. Being a little late, she noticed the morning crowd was thinning. Her usual waitress gave her a smile, finished pouring some coffee for one of her customers, and then threaded her way through the maze of tables to Hannah.

      “I thought maybe you’d taken a new job and had left Billings,” Olivia Jarrod said as she set a mug on the table and filled it.

      “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Olivia was the closest person to a friend she’d had in a long, long time. From the beginning two months ago when Hannah had come into the diner for breakfast before going to Saul Peterson’s around the corner, they had hit it off. It had been Olivia’s first day on the job, and she’d been nervous, making a lot of mistakes. A few customers hadn’t had much patience, but Hannah saw a person in need of a kind word. From that point on, she’d always sat in Olivia’s area, and her friend had sometimes been able to join her for a cup of coffee if the crowd wasn’t large. She’d miss Olivia. There was a connection with Olivia she couldn’t explain.

      Her hands still cold from a north wind bringing frigid weather, Hannah wrapped them around the navy-blue ceramic cup. “Ah, this feels good. It’s cold out there.”

      “Yeah, I’ve felt it every time the door has opened.” Her friend looked around. “I’m due a break. I’ll join you for a few minutes while you eat. Your usual?”

      “Of course. I hate change and what I eat for breakfast I can control.” So little else was totally in her control.

      “Be back in a minute then.”

      As Olivia made her way to the counter, she stopped and gave her last customer his check, then she proceeded to the kitchen. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail while her blue eyes always held a touch of regret. That look of vulnerability spoke to Hannah on a level that prompted her to tell Olivia her story. She couldn’t, of course, but the words had been on the tip of her tongue several times in the past couple of weeks when she realized she would have to move on soon.

      “You look lost in thought.” Olivia placed before Hannah a plate with one egg over easy and some whole-wheat toast with honey on the side. “And those thoughts are sad ones.”

      She smiled. “Who me? I’m heading off to a new adventure soon.”

      Olivia slid into the seat across from her. “I don’t know how you do it. Picking up and going someplace new every few months. You seem to thrive on change whereas I don’t.”

      She wished that really were the case. Hannah studied that sadness that gently etched her friend’s features with pain. “Is that what you think?”

      “Yes, or why would you do it? You could stay in one place. There’s a need for experienced home health care providers in Billings.”

      To stay alive, Hannah wanted to confide to Olivia. “What’s changing for you?”

      Her friend bent forward, peering at the near-empty tables around them. “I’m pregnant.”

      “You’ve never mentioned a man in your life. Is there a husband? Boyfriend?”

      That pain magnified Olivia’s gaze even more. “I haven’t spoken to my husband in months and he doesn’t even…” Tears glistened in her eyes, making the powder-blue color stand out more.

      “Know that you’re having a baby?”

      Olivia nodded.

      “Is it his?”

      Her friend bit her lower lip, a tear leaking out and running down her pale cheek. Again she gave a nod.

      “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Why haven’t you told him?”

      “I can’t contact him. I can’t…” Her words came to a spattering halt. Fear chased away the pain for a few seconds. She quickly darted a look around the diner. “My husband didn’t want a child.”

      Hannah straightened, all thoughts of her now-cool egg fleeing. “Did he abuse you? Are you running away from him?” She held her breath almost afraid of the answers.

      “No, he never hurt me like that. He wouldn’t. He isn’t that kind of man.” She peered toward the customers still in the diner. “I’m gonna move, too. I want to settle in a smaller town before the baby comes. I love children and hope I can do something with them. I’d rather do something other than be a waitress. I’d better get back to work.” Olivia slid to the end of the booth and started to stand.

      Hannah laid her hand over hers. “Don’t leave just yet. I think you need a friend right now. Let me be that person. Where are you from?”

      “Chicago.”

      “Does he have any idea where you are?”

      Olivia shook her head.

      “And you can’t give him a call?”

      “I won’t force him into a life he doesn’t want.”

      Hannah